Fresh!west Results18th July 2006
Introduction
FEATURING: TRUTH WATERS, GEORGE CASSIDY
AUTHOR: PIERRE HYDE
The screen goes to black then fizzles to life suddenly, the letters “AWC-West” flashing across in a brilliant white light. A moment of silence dominates, then, backed by “Way Away” by Yellowcard, images of AWC-West’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 Fresh!west superstars in action are shown: Ellis Nash, Captain Suleimon, Red Rock.
And even though I know
That everything might go
Go downhill from here
I’m not afraid
A quick collection of highlights from last Fresh!west show flash across the screen as the song moves into its chorus. Vince Jones attacking members of the public; the Martin brothers catching Captain Suleimon in mid-air as he attempts a cross-body; Garbage Bag Johnny taking out Mikey O’Reilly with the Whirling Debris.
Way away, away from here I’ll be
Away, away, away, so you can see
How it feels to be alone and not believe
Feels to be alone and not believe
Anything
Truth Waters: Dude! It’s the old intro music! Harber has taken this retro, and I like it! Welcome to Fresh!west ladies and gentlemen!
George Cassidy: The show without Pierce Lavelle!
Truth Waters: Let’s not worry about what we don’t got; it’s all about what we do got! We do got for ya a huge Battle Royal match where every single AWC-West wrestler is invited to compete for the number one contendership to the Transatlantic championship – Transatlantic belt, that is!
George Cassidy: Yeah, in case you missed it last week, there’s some retarded angle splitting it in two. Sound familiar?
Truth Waters: The winner will face off against whoever wins a similar match next week at Fresh!east, and that Transatlantic title belt decider will be in two weeks’ time at Fresh!west’s special show: Live From Huntington Beach! It’s gonna be...
George Cassidy: Rad.
An Awkward Arrival
FEATURING: VINCE JONES, VALERIE LAYNE
AUTHOR: JAY
The camera slowly fades into the Stegeman Coliseum parking lot where 'The Violence' Vince Jones can be seen emerging from a black rental car with an angry scowl upon his face and a cellphone to his ear.
Vince Jones: No! (pause) Fuck no, Reno! For the last time, V. Jones is doin' a whole hell of a lot better without yo bitch ass holdin' him down and shit! (pause) V don't give a damn if you on your fuckin' knees and cryin' in the corner of your office right now! Business is over between you and V so get the fuck over it! (pauses and shakes his head) We done talkin', mahfucka! V's hangin' up the phone! (slight pause) Reno, V hangin' up the fuckin' phone right now! Click!
Vince snatches the cellphone away from his ear, slams it shut, and shoves it into his pocket. He leans into the rental car and soon emerges with his black duffle bag thrown over his shoulder, and the Countdown Trophy in hand. He looks around the vicinity, shakes his head, and slams the door in frustration.
Vince Jones: (muttering under his breath and looks down at the Countdown trophy) And what up with this scenario, huh!? Jasmine said she'd be right here waiting for V when he arrived! This is some fuckin' bullshit, man! Of all the nights, she decides she wanna pull this tonight! Jasmine better bring her sorry ass ASAP! V ain't playin' games! Man got business to take care of in the ring and the bitch wanna try and play hardball and shit with with The fuckin' Violence of all people! Its whateva!
Vince marches his way across the parking lot furious at the state of affairs and reaches the Stegeman Coliseum where he is greeted by Valerie Layne on the West tour. She extends her hand towards Vince with a dour expression on her face. Vince stops in his tracks and just glares at her.
Valerie Layne: (robotically) Greetings! My name is Valerie Layne and I...
Vince slaps her hand away in disgust.
Vince Jones: Fuck off, bitch! Don't got the time for this shit!
He shoves his way past her – or at least, tries, but Layne’s bulk nearly knocks The Violence backwards.
Shawny Wee-Mouth
FEATURING: PWC
AUTHOR: KERRY RITTER
Kris Krimzon: Loooooovin yeeeeew is easy cause your bubhgbgre-full…
The camera rounds the corner of the locker room and Kris Krimzon, holding a mop in his left hand and a beer in the right, is “singing” along to “Loving You” by some bitch nobody really knows.
Kris Krimzon: Yew know what, mopper? I gotsta pisssssssssssss… Hahahahahahaha!!
Kris drops and mop and takes another swig of the beer. He unzips his pants, pulls his cock out, and begins to piss in the corner as Shawn Harris enters the locker room.
Shawn Harris: What the FUCK!?
Kris turns his body around, now peeing in the middle of the room.
Kris Krimzon: OH HEY’S SHAWN!! Shawn-o… Shawn-ee… hahahahahaha…
Shawn takes a step back to avoid getting piss on him.
Shawn Harris: Kris, are you drunk?
Kris Krimzon: ME!? DRUNKED!? I’m offen’id.
Shawn sighs.
Shawn Harris: Hey Kris can I have a beer?
Kris Krimzon: Sure think bu’y.
Kris, STILL pissing, turns again and walks toward a cooler. He grabs an open, but full, beer and tosses it to Shawn. Shawn takes one swig of it and spits it out.
Shawn Harris: What the fuck brand is this?
Kris Krimzon: I’unno…
Shawn Harris: Why’s it so warm?
Kris, STILL pissing, gasps.
Kris Krimzon: Oh shizzit, wrong bo’le. You just drunked some good ol’ fashion KRIMZON PISSMON. HAHAHAHAHA!
Shawn drops the bottle instantly. The pee spills from the bottle as Kris finishes peeing and zips up his pants.
Kris Krimzon: Hahahahaha you’re Shawny Wee Mouth hahahaha.
Shawn sighs.
Shawn Harris: Kris, just mop the floor please.
Kris laughs as he grabs the mop. He begins to wash the floor with the mop upside down, the pole rubbing up against the floor. Kris slips and falls face-first into the piss. Shawn laughs, but out of friendliness to his partner, he helps him up. Kris begins to laugh insanely.
Kris Krimzon: HEY WHY’S THE FLOOR ALL WET?! HAHAHAHA!! Hey Shawn.
Shawn Harris: What?
Kris Krimzon: Fancy you a spo’ o’ tea, mate?!
Shawn Harris: Uh, sure.
Kris Krimzon: (yelling) AI’YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP! YOU’RE AMUMERICAN GO’ DAMN IT! WE DON’T DRUNK NO FUCK’NIN TEA GO’ DAMN IT!
Shawn Harris: …right… Let’s get out of here, it smells like piss.
Kris Krimzon: WHA’ THE FUCK YOU PISSIN’ ON THE FLOO’H FO’H DAMN IT!
Ellis Nash vs Emo Kid
STIPULATION: SINGLES
REFEREE: RICHIE TRAVIS
AUTHORS: LIA AND COCAINE
James Blunt: you're beautiful!
James Brunt: The following match is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, from Cortland, New York, weighing in at 126 pounds... ELLIS NASH!
George Cassidy: We're back, folks. Tonight we kick off the show with a bout pitting the beautiful, talented, brilliant, dazzling, delectable, gorgeous, ravishing, splendiferous, I-can-never-get-enough-of-her Ellis Nash against one of AWC's newest signings, Emo Kid.
Truth Waters: Can we even call him a legit signing?
George Cassidy: Who cares? Have my babies, Ellis!
James Blunt: you're beautiful!
James Brunt: The following match is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, from Cortland, New York, weighing in at 126 pounds... ELLIS NASH!
The pert electronics of "Oblivious" by Aimee Allen hit the speakers, spurring a mixed receptivity from the horde.
George Cassidy: And we're back, folks. Tonight we kick off our show with a bout pitting the beautiful, talented, brilliant, dazzling, delectable, gorgeous, ravishing and splendiferous Ellis Nash against one of AWC's newest signings, Emo Kid.
Truth Waters: Can we even call him a legit signing?
Beat.
George Cassidy: Who cares? Have my babies, Ellis!
Instead, Ellis saunters down the ramp, looking almost too pleased with herself. She effortlessly hops up onto the apron and triple-flips into the ring.
George Cassidy: (dreamy sigh)
Then, the arena goes dark.
I open my eyes
I try to see,
but I'm blinded by the white light
I can't remember how
I can't remember why
I'm lying here tonight
James Brunt: And her opponent... from Emoville, Emochusetts, weighing in at 92 pounds… EMO KID!!!
Emo Kid pushes back the curtains but ends up getting tangled. He crumbles to the ground and bursts into tears.
And I can't stand the pain
And I can't make it go away
No I can't stand the pain
Truth Waters: .....
George Cassidy: ...........
Ellis Nash: WTF??
Emo Kid draws in a deep breath and recollects himself. He staggers to his feet and furiously wipes at his eyes, refusing to let the beastly curtains get the best of him. He won’t let them get to him. No. Not tonight.
Tonight, he has a match to win.
Tonight, he will break the dictatorial boundaries of his young, teenage life.
Tonight, he will finally prove himself to his father.
Tonight.
Now.
Now.
Emo Kid nods, dauntless.
Then he trips over his feet and rolls the rest of the way down the ramp.
How could this happen to ME
I've made my MISTAKES
Got no where to RUN
The night goes ON
As I'm fading AWAY
I'm sick of this LIFE
I just wanna SCREEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMMMMMMM
How could this happen to me?
At the bottom of the ramp, EK bangs his fists against the ground, sobbing. Mascara runs down his cheeks, creating deep rivers of unfathomable despair.
He pulls out his laptop and logs onto MySpace.
About to post his blog, Emo Kid remembers something at the last minute.
Now satisfied, EK snaps his Apple shut and slides it back under the ring. He stands up and moves towards it, intent on finally climbing in.
Ellis deems otherwise.
Truth Waters: Baseball slide!
Emo Kid staggers backwards, falling on his ass. Richie Travis sighs and signals for the bell before ambling over to Ellis, ordering her away from the ropes. Ellis argues at first: HELLO?! That was like, the longest entrance ever! Richie argues back: Well, I don’t know, LXG’s is kind of long too... to which Ellis responds: ...that’s true... and then shrugs, complying with Richie’s original request.
In the meantime, Emo Kid, fresh tears obliterating his view, totters to his feet. He grabs the middle rope warily before hoisting himself up onto the apron. Gingerly, he clambers in.
The Athens throng has since erupted into a cacophonous ”EL-LIS!” chant, already exasperated with girly-man. Emo Kid sucks in a breath and balls his fists, tenacity arising, but does nothing. Ellis, bored, knows just the trick.
She pulls a megaphone from her shorts.
Ellis Nash: BRIGHT EYES SUCKS.
Click.
Emo Kid’s eyes grow wide.
Emo Kid: You don’t even know Conor! Conor’s a lyrical genius! He’s a LYRICAL GENIUS! Conor Oberst is a lyrical genius! You can’t say that about him! You don’t even know him! You don’t know the real him! You don’t know the real Conor Oberst! Conor Oberst is a lyrical genius!
Click.
Ellis Nash: CONOR OBERST SUCKS.
Click.
Emo Kid decomposes into sobs.
Emo Kid: STOP! JUST STOP! PLEASE! I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE! I HATE MY LIFE!!!!! GRIEF, SADNESS, THEY ENGULF ME LIKE THE WAVES OF A HURRICANE!!! WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS!??!!! WHAT DID I DO GOD??????????????
Truth Waters: Is that...
George Cassidy: What?
Truth Waters: The Emonator!
Ellis shifts awkwardly as Emo Kid pauses to write a poem on his arm:
the days are long with depression and pain,
it feels like i’m forever in the rain,
will my demons ever be slain?
or am i here to be here in vain?
George Cassidy: WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!?
Truth Waters: Deep Depression, Cassidy! It’s his set-up!
Emo Kid recaps the Sharpie and promptly launches back into The Emonator.
Emo Kid: MY INSECURITIES EAT ME ALIVE!!! ALL I WANT TO DO IS LIVE!! ALL I WANT IS TO FEEL ALIVE FOR ONCE!!!!!!! ALL I WANT IS MY FATHER TO LOVE ME!!!!
Emo Kid sinks into the corner, cupping his face. His shoulders shake uncontrollably. Ellis looks around.
Ellis Nash: ‘K um... does this mean I can pin him now?
Richie Travis: IDK.
Ellis shrugs. She grabs EK by the arm, drags him into the center of the ring and hooks the leg, all the while EK writhing with weeps. Travis drops for the count.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
.......
Truth Waters: That’s it!?!
George Cassidy: Ellis Nash picks up the easy win!
“Oblivion” hits, signaling the conclusion of the match. Travis raises a grinning Nash’s arm, while Emo Kid flails like a fish around the ring, smacking his palms against the mat.
Truth Waters: I guess that’s it!
George Cassidy: Like you really expected this to be a real wrestling match? You know Lia can’t do those.
Truth Waters: True, true. Stay tuned, folks! There’s a spectacular night ahead of you!
Interviews & Ultimatums
FEATURING: MIKEY O'REILLY, TRACY STANTON, ZSASZ
AUTHORS: JEREMY J. AND MIKE S.
Mikey O’Reilly sits in his locker room, preparing for his Countdown trophy match against Vince Jones. If Mikey wins the trophy, that means he’s on both shows, defending the title to the best of his abilities up until Coast To Coast. There is a sour look on his face as he tapes his fists. After what happened two weeks ago in the Battle For Independence match, you’d be in a sour mood.
Mikey is beginning to wonder what kind of an establishment the AWC is. What kind of an establishment uses dump trucks, a fictitious machine like Metal Gear and a John Deere construction vehicle? Perhaps this is the kind of place where people can run amok whenever they see fit and lose all realism in the sport of Professional Wrestling. As everyone knows, entertainment overrules wrestling by a wide margin.
This week is different for Mikey. Mikey is actually in a wrestling match against another wrestler. This will not be like that whole Battle for Independence debacle or the Bare-Knuckle Boxing mockery back at Divide And Conquer, no, this is a wrestling match. It’s for a trophy, which holds no real value in Professional Wrestling in Mikey’s eyes, but it’s a wrestling match nonetheless.
He gets up from his bench, loosening himself up and does a little shadow boxing in the corner. That usually gives him focus before a big match. He used to sit in a corner and pray, but that doesn’t do it for him anymore. Prayer doesn’t get you through a match; only you have that capability.
A few moments later, Mikey hears a knocking on his door. This vexes Mikey. He just got into his shadow boxing and now someone is interrupting him. Already, Mikey thinks this week is going to Hell in a hand basket.
Letting out a sigh, he sits back down, fishing a pack of cigarettes from his tote bag, and lights himself up a Marlboro 100, looking over at the door.
Mikey O’Reilly: Come in.
The door opens slowly and a familiar face enters Mikey’s locker room. It surprises Mikey to see Tracy Stanton stepping into his locker room. With Tracy being a new interviewer on the West Atlantic tour, perhaps Tracy wants to conduct an interview with Mikey. For Tracy, it’s something for her to do to get her mind off her boyfriend, Chainz, who is going crazy over on the East Atlantic tour, waiting for Sasha Volkyeva to either get him on the West Atlantic tour, or to get Tracy over on the East.
Tracy is looking lovely as usual, dressed in a denim miniskirt, a white blouse and strappy-looking high heels. She’s looking better, gaining a little weight after her horrific ordeal of Zsasz torturing her with pictures of Chainz’s violent past. It appears that Tracy is going to do just fine; she’s a lot stronger than most people thought.
Getting to his feet, Mikey O’Reilly greets Tracy Stanton with a smile and holds out his hand, gesturing a handshake. Tracy shakes Mikey’s hand. She likes Mikey; he isn’t anything like his sick, sadistic manager. Mikey O’Reilly is perhaps the nicest person she’d ever met, and she feels comfortable around the Irish-American.
Mikey O’Reilly: Hello, Tracy. You look lovely this evening.
Tracy flushes a little after that comment. She notices that Mikey’s eyes are on hers, unlike the rest of the horn dogs in this company. She likes the fact that Mikey is a gentleman, not staring at her ample-sized breasts. With a chest that big, it’s hard not to look at it, but Mikey’s doing just fine. If he wants to look at breasts, he’ll stare at his wife’s chest.
Tracy Stanton: I’m doing well. Say, I have a question for you...
Mikey O’Reilly: Okay. Let’s have it, then.
Tracy Stanton: Did you know that Zsasz was going to be in Paris? Since he’s your manager and all...
The last vestige of his smile disappears. Mikey had a feeling that Tracy was going to ask that question. It was only a matter of time.
Mikey O’Reilly: Truthfully, I didn’t know he was going over to Paris last week. In all honesty, I don’t pay attention to what he does nowadays. We don’t speak much and that’s all right with me. He does his own thing and I do mine.
Tracy searches his face to see if he is telling the truth. His eyes are telling her that he is, indeed, telling her the truth, but the thought of both men doing things alone doesn’t exactly make her a believer. The only thing that matters now is that Mikey is telling her the truth about Zsasz’s appearance in Paris last week. Who knows, maybe Zsasz is still there, doing business or hackling her boyfriend...
She pushes the thought out of her mind. It’s best not to think about that.
Mikey O’Reilly: Is that why you came in here or did you want an interview or something?
She looks up at Mikey, nodding her head.
Tracy Stanton: Umm...yeah, I want to conduct an interview with you, just to get some practice in.
Mikey smiles and sits back down, giving her his undivided attention.
Mikey O’Reilly: Okay. Interview away, Tracy.
Tracy Stanton: Umm...
She thinks about how she will conduct this interview. She’s only been an interviewer for two weeks and she doesn’t have any real experience yet. Tonight will be her first crack at being an interviewer, and she hopes that she’s good enough to be one.
Tracy Stanton: Tonight, you’ll be facing Vince Jones in a Countdown Trophy Match for the trophy... What are your thoughts on the match?
So far so good. Maybe she has a knack for this after all.
Mikey O’Reilly: After the last matches I had, it’s good to actually be in a wrestling match. I mean, let’s go back to two weeks ago, shall we? What the hell was that? It’s obvious that this company doesn’t know what “wrestling” means. You don’t use John Deere equipment, a dump truck or some made-up machine in a match. I wasn’t happy with this match, not because I lost, but because this match was a damn travesty! I don’t know which was worse: my Bare-Knuckle boxing match against Paddy O’Shea for that Battle for Independence mess!
He takes a drag of his cigarette and exhales. Tracy lets out a couple of coughs and Mikey puts out his cigarette, apologizing to Tracy for his smoking. She tells him not to worry about it.
Mikey O’Reilly: Anyway... about this match I have against Vince Jones. I’ve noticed that he’s had a brush of luck as of late, beating Shawn Harris, Teresa Tomas to win the Countdown trophy and Leviathan to retain the trophy. To be honest with you, Tracy, it doesn’t matter to me if I win or lose this match. If I win, hey, I get to defend the trophy on both tours. If not, oh well, Vince Jones deserves to keep the trophy. I’d rather be wrestling for a title rather than a trophy, you know what I mean?
Tracy Stanton: I know Mikey, don’t worry I’m sure you’ll do fine. You’re a gifted wrestler and don’t let anyone say that you’re not. I’ve seen you put a hundred percent into every match and I’m sure you’ll break out in a big way soon. Mikey looks at Tracy, thinking how a psycho like Chainz can have such a kind hearted and beautiful woman like Tracy. Before she asks another question, Mikey’s door open and a voice is heard.
“What’s going on in here?”
That evil, baritone voice sends shivers up and down Tracy’s spine. It’s a voice she’s all too familiar with. She turns around to see Zsasz staring down at her, his sapphire eyes giving her that signature malicious twinkle, and his pearly white smile doesn’t hold any warmth or greeting. Then his face mutates into an ugly sneer, making Tracy feel like she’s done something wrong, when in actuality she didn’t. She is simply doing her job, and now it feels like she’s picked the wrong time to do said job.
Zsasz: I don’t believe I authorized an interview for my client this week, Ms. Stanton. So if you value your life, I suggest that you evacuate from this locker room and never have a thought in your head to return.
Tracy Stanton immediately runs out of the locker room, weeping loudly. Mikey O’Reilly gets to his feet, giving his manager a vexed look.
Mikey O’Reilly: That wasn’t necessary, Zsasz. Tracy wasn’t doing anything wrong.
Zsasz: Her fraternizing with you is doing something wrong, O’Reilly, whether it be doing her job or not. She is not to be around you. I forbid it!
Mikey O’Reilly: God, you sound like my old man. Give it a rest, will ya? I’m 33 years old; I’m a big boy now.
Zsasz lets out a little chuckle.
Zsasz: My apologies. I simply do not like that little harlot. Stupid little girl; can’t separate her feelings from what her boyfriend truly is. Oh well, that’s her prerogative if she wants to be murdered by Sloan because she didn’t listen.
Zsasz looks over at his client, motioning him to sit down. Mikey does so, and Zsasz pulls up a chair next to Mikey.
Zsasz: I want to talk to you about something. During your time here in AWC, my investment on you has gotten... abysmal. When my investments do not meet my standards, I get rather angry, and with your track record here in this company, profits haven’t been exactly stellar. Now, I know you’ve been wrestling for six years, but I’ve expected more from you, O’Reilly.
Mikey O’Reilly arches an eyebrow.
Mikey O’Reilly: What are you saying, Zsasz?
Zsasz: I’m saying if you don’t win anymore matches, I no longer wish to be your manager. I will not have you further deteriorate my reputation because I’m associated with a... what’s the word I’m looking for... a “jobber.”
Mikey O’Reilly feels his temper rising after hearing what Zsasz just said. A jobber? How dare he refer to him with such a label?
Mikey O’Reilly: Now wait just a damn minute! I’m busting my ass for you and I’m doing the best I can for you, Zsasz!
Zsasz simply scoffs at his client.
Zsasz: Really? Let’s take a trip down Memory Lane, shall we? You’ve lost to a mere woman, lost to Chainz twice, and he’s not that complicated to defeat. You see, if you want to make a name for yourself, you have to win matches. If you want to go somewhere in this business, you have to win matches. If you want to get title shots, you have to win matches. Having four wins, four losses and one draw doesn’t get you anywhere, make a name for yourself or get title shots!
Mikey sits there and says nothing. It’s obvious that his manager has defeated him after saying all he said.
Zsasz lets out a sigh and looks at his client.
Zsasz: All I have to say to you is this: win this match against Vince Jones, or I no longer have anything to do with you.
Zsasz gets up from his chair and walks towards the door. Before he leaves, he turns to face his client one more time.
Zsasz: I have some business I need to take care of. Remember what I said, O’Reilly. If you want me to be continue being your manager, start winning matches.
He pulls the door open and steps out of Mikey’s locker room, closing the door behind him.
Mikey lets out a sigh, shakes his head and lights himself up another cigarette. He has a few minutes to himself before his match against Vince Jones. He might as well sit here and collects himself before going out to perform.
Screw Zsasz. If he loses his match against Vince Jones, it’ll be a blessing that Zsasz walks out on Mikey O’Reilly. He hasn’t done anything for Mikey anyway.
Was Out Getting Some Coffee...
FEATURING: VINCE JONES, JASMINE
AUTHOR: JAY
The camera fades into the hallway of the Stegeman Coliseum where Vince Jones can be seen pacing back and forth across the floor like a wild animal ready to strike any and all if provoked with his Countdown trophy in one hand his trusty Louisville Slugger bat in the other.
Vince Jones:(frustrated) C'mon, Jasmine! This shit ain't cool! You were supposed to be here awhile ago! Where the fuck are you, huh?
All of a sudden Vince stops in his tracks as Jasmine finally appears with a cup of coffee in hand. Vince folds his arms across his chest and she just looks at him and smiles as if nothing happened.
Vince Jones: So...
Jasmine: So what, V?
Vince Jones: Where the fuck you been, huh?
Jasmine: (smirks) What? A woman can't get a cup of coffee?
Vince Jones: (nods) So, you mean to tell V that you've been gone all this time gettin' a fuckin' cup of coffee? V got a match comin' up in a few and you totally MIA on V and shit! What up with that, huh? You're late! You're beyond late!
Jasmine: Yeah. Well, atleast I showed up, unlike some people that'll leave a beautiful girl like me sitting at a restaurant alone while probably running around women named LaShonda...
Vince Jones: Why we talkin' 'bout old shit, huh?
Jasmine: So, you did fool around on me with a girl named LaShonda?
Vince Jones: Fuck no!
Jasmine shakes her head and takes a long, deliberately slow, sip of her coffee.
Vince Jones: Whateva! Let's go!
Vince is about to leave, but Jasmine just stands there and continues to sip on her coffee in defiance. Vince turns around and motions for her to get going, but she just stands there and continues sipping on her coffee.
Vince Jones: Hey! Let's move it!
Jasmine: Oh, I'll be there when I get there. Right now I'd like to finish (raises her cup) my cup of coffee here if you don't mind. Thanks you.
Vince Jones: Aiight! Well, make it quick!
Jasmine: Oh, am I holding you up? I bet you didn't rush that bitch, LaShonda!
Vince Jones: Yeah, yeah, yeah! Just drink yo damn coffee so we can get the hell on!
Jasmine takes slow sips while keeping her eyes locked on Vince. Vince stands there and just shakes his head impatiently. She finally lowers the cup from her mouth.
Vince Jones: You finished now? Let's go!
She looks down into her cup and smirks.
Jasmine: My bad, V. Looks like I've got another sip to go.
She takes her last extremely slow sip as Vince begins pacing again in frustration. She looks into her cup one last time and smiles a deliberately toothy and mocking grin.
Jasmine: Alright. I think I'm finished now. Let's go.
Vince Jones: Its about fuckin' time!
The two of them march down the hallway as the camera slowly fades to black.
The Chosen Ones vs The New Black
STIPULATION: DUO TAG
REFEREE: JOSEPH REID
AUTHOR: JEREMY J.
Truth Waters: Coming up in a few short minutes, Jose Lopez and Sentice Vargas, the team of the Chosen Ones, are making their debut tonight against a team that’s making a name for themselves: Angelus Sorrow and Lacuna Debris, the New Black.
George Cassidy: You damn right, Truth! The New Black was the only team to hang with Furious Fists of God at the Sudden Death Alliance Invitational at Divide And Conquer. Even though the Martin Brothers walked away with the Alliance titles for the second time in their career here in AWC, it’s evident that the New Black is the team to be reckoned with.
Truth Waters: I can’t argue that, Cass, the New Black is a great duo and can be the next Alliance champions. But before that happens, they’ll have to get past the debuting duo tonight. Will the Chosen Ones defeat Sorrow and Debris, or will the New Black continue to lay a path of destruction? Let’s answer those questions tonight!
James Brunt: The following is a Duo Tag Match...
“Bombs Over Baghdad” by Outkast begins to play on the PA as Jose Lopez and Sentice Vargas make their way onto the stage, looking out into the fans, getting a rather nice ovation. They make their way down to the ring, focused on their debut match.
James Brunt: First, making their AWC debut, from Trinidad and Tobago, at the total combine weight of 515 pounds... Jose Lopez and Sentice Vargas... THE CHOSEN ONES!
When both men get into the ring, they climb corners on the opposite sides of the ring and raise their arms, getting more pops from the Athens crowd. They jump off the turnbuckles, get into their corner and wait for their opponents.
Truth Waters: Both of these men are ready for competition! Look at the focus and intensity in their eyes!
George Cassidy: Shh... Brunt’s about to announce my team.
James Brunt: Their opponents...
The chaotic opening chords of The Blood Brothers’ “Ambulance vs. Ambulance” bursts from the PA as Sorrow paces slowly and confidently from behind the curtains, with Lacuna dragging along reluctantly behind him.
James Brunt: Making their way to the ring, from Derbyshire, England... Lacuna Debris and Angelus Sorrow, THE NEW BLACK!
Ambulance X extracts several consultants
from the slow gumming death at the office orifice.
Ambulance Y imprisons the sigh of the recent amputee
and dumps her in the xylophone trees.
Ambulance X scours the tanning complex for repunzels
rotting in their skin cooking coffins.
Ambulance Y drops the body off at the door step.
Lacuna looks up and surveys the crowd, a smile spreading slowly over her face as the adrenaline kicks in and she charges towards the ring. Sorrow continues his strut, himself smiling too.
Ambulance X pulls you out of the party
and rubs your freckles like a DJ to his records
but Ambulance Y teaches you the word goodbye
and cuts your hands to show you where you stand,
under the monolith of what is love and what is scam,
what is sun and what is tan.
The Ambulance Angels pull up to your doorstep
the sirens flash emergency,
“you’d better come quick.”
The Ambulance Angels chisel a crack in your mouth,
and then they paint a landscape with your regret and shouts.
Lacuna jumps off the turnbuckle and performs a perfect backflip, pointing at the roaring fans as Sorrow stands and smirks to himself, flexing his huge arms and cracking his neck in anticipation.
George Cassidy: There they are - a very dominant team in Angelus Sorrow and Lacuna Debris. Sorrow is a former LOW Extreme champion, a former superstar in DWO and Debris is a former UWF Television champion, so both of these wrestlers have been to the dance before.
Truth Waters: Indeed they have, and now they’re looking to get AWC Alliance gold, and I think they can do just that, and to do so, they’ll have to get past this new team.
Angelus Sorrow and Jose Lopez decide to start the ring. Both men are in the center of the ring, getting ready to lock up. The collar and elbow tie-up has been administered and Sorrow throws J-Lo (his name is Jose Lopez, so I’m gonna call him J-Lo. Don’t like it? Call someone who fucking cares) onto his ass. J-Lo looks up at Sorrow in surprise, never realizing how strong his opponent is. He gets to his feet, walking towards Sorrow, about to mount some offense, but Angelus beats him to the punch. Before J-Lo can do anything to the English giant, Sorrow throws a Big Boot right in Lopez’s face, taking him down to the mat. “The Unbeliever” gets heckled by the fans as he taps his temple, indicating that he’s smarter than his opponent.
Truth Waters: What a huge boot by Angelus Sorrow! He could’ve knocked Jose Lopez out!
George Cassidy: And look at Sorrow flaunting his intelligence to the fans! I love it!
Angelus Sorrow grabs a handful of hair, picks up his opponent and whips him into the ropes. Upon rebound, Sorrow delivers a monstrous Clothesline, turning Jose Lopez for a loop and almost lands on his head. With a smug look on his face, Sorrow drops on top of Jose, going for the first pinfall of the match...
ONE!
TWO!
Angelus Sorrow breaks up the count by forcibly sitting his opponent up. “The Unbeliever” gets to his feet, throws Jose Lopez into Sentice Vargas’ corner and beckons Vargas to enter the ring, wanting to take him on. Sentice is reluctant at first, but eventually tags himself in, and enters the ring, keeping his distance away from the 6’8” 328-pound Derbyshire monster. Growing rather bored with his timid opponent, Sorrow tags himself out, allowing his cousin to get in on the action. Lacuna Debris jumps over the top rope and enters the ring, her eyes locked on her opponent. Feeling more comfortable with his opponent, Sentice locks up with the smaller opponent and gets the upper hand with a Side Headlock.
The headlock is short lived, however, as Lacuna Debris escapes the headlock and throws Sentice Vargas into the ropes. “Miss England” goes for a spinning roundhouse kick, but Sentice goes south, driving his shoulder into Debris’ exposed leg, taking her down to the mat. Lacuna lets out a bellow, clutching her knee. Before Sentice can capitalize, Angelus Sorrow enters the ring and attacks Sentice from behind, taking him down with a Clothesline. This prompts Jose Lopez to enter the ring. He throws himself at Sorrow, but Sorrow is ready for the 275-pound human projectile, catches him in midair and throws him over his head with a Fall Away Slam! The power behind the throw is great enough to send J-Lo over the top rope, crashing onto the floor below.
Truth Waters: Good Lord, Angelus Sorrow just threw Jose Lopez over the top rope with a Fall Away Slam! That’s 275 pounds! All hell is breaking loose!
George Cassidy: And Joseph Reid is getting order restored in the ring. Aw, c’mon, Reid, let ’em go! That ref is no fun.
Referee Joseph Reid finally gets Angelus Sorrow out of the ring. Lacuna Debris gingerly gets to her feet, testing her hurt knee to see if it can stand her full weight. Satisfied with the results, she half-walks, half-limps over to her opponent and gets Sentice Vargas to a vertical base. As she does, Sentice buries a knee into her gut and goes for a Front Face-lock. The “Lioness” manages to muscle Vargas up and over with a Northern Lights Suplex.
Truth Waters: Beautiful Northern Lights Suplex by Lacuna Debris! And it looks like her knee took a nasty toll by executing that move on the 240-pound Sentice Vargas.
George Cassidy: You have a fetish for announcing people’s weights, don’t you?
Truth Waters: It accentuates the commentary, Cass. Get with the times.
After performing the move, she clutches her knee again, pain registering on her face. Shaking the pain off, she picks up Sentice Vargas and whips him into a corner. With a head full of steam she charges at her opponent and goes for a Spinning Heel Kick. But Vargas catches her in midair and drops her across his knee with a Capture Backbreaker. Debris yelps, now clutching at her lower back as Vargas goes for the pinfall...
ONE!
TWO!
George Cassidy: Lacuna Debris gets the shoulder up! Good girl, Lacuna, good girl.
Truth Waters: Lacuna Debris manages to kick out after the Capture Backbreaker by Sentice Vargas. It looks like she’ll have back and knee problems by the time the match is over.
Sentice Vargas gets to his feet, grabs Lacuna Debris’ hurt leg, turns her over and sits on the small of her back, administering a Single Leg Boston Crab. The “Lioness” is screaming in pain, trying to break free from the submission maneuver. Fortunately for Debris, her cousin, Angelus Sorrow, comes to her rescue and breaks up the submission by kicking Sentice in the back of his head. The Athens crowd jeers at Sorrow’s conduct as he exits the ring. Unbeknownst to Sorrow, Jose Lopez has finally recovered from the Fall Away Slam courtesy of Sorrow previously, and pulls Sorrow off the ring apron, bouncing his jaw off the apron. Afterwards, J-Lo sends Sorrow shoulder first into the ring steps! The fans are on their feet, cheering for Lopez.
“LO-PEZ! LO-PEZ! LO-PEZ! LO-PEZ!”
Truth Waters: Jose Lopez has gotten some payback on Angelus Sorrow by throwing him into the steel steps.
George Cassidy: Jose Lopez has got cojones the size of grapefruits after doing that to Sorrow. It won’t be long until Angelus Sorrow rips Lopez’s head off.
Jose Lopez goes back to his corner as Sentice Vargas continues to work on Lacuna Debris’ injured knee. He has the knee in a Leg-lock, twisting and turning on it, inflicting enough pain as possible. Lacuna quickly sits up and rakes Vargas’ eyes, temporarily blinding her opponent and escapes the Leg-lock. She rolls over to her corner to tag in Angelus Sorrow, who’s getting to his feet, rubbing his shoulder. Sorrow tags himself in and rolls into the ring, only to have Vargas ready for him, dropping an elbow on Sorrow’s hurt shoulder. Sorrow doesn’t even feel the elbow drop as he gets to his feet, but a hard kick to the face by Sentice is enough to send Sorrow back onto the mat. He goes for the cover, hooking the leg...
ONE!
Angelus Sorrow kicks out with authority, throwing Sentice Vargas off. Vargas is the first man to his feet. He runs over to his corner and tags in Jose Lopez. J-Lo is in the ring now, dropping a knee on Sorrow’s shoulder as Sorrow tries to get to his feet. “The Unbeliever” bellows with rage, pushing Lopez away. Slowly, Angelus is on his feet, working his shoulder to see if there’s any damage. Whilst he’s doing so, Lopez charges at the large adversary, about to deliver a Clothesline, but Sorrow counters Lopez’s Clothesline with a one-armed Spine Buster! Sentice Vargas’ eyes are as wide as silver dollars as he watches his partner get drilled onto the mat by Angelus’ inhuman power.
Truth Water: Jesus Christ! What a display of strength by Angelus Sorrow! He just picked up a 275-pound individual with a one-armed Spine Buster! Angelus Sorrow is one scary mofo!
George Cassidy: True dat, playa! Holla at’cha boy!
Truth Waters: Ugh. How many times do I have to tell you, Cass? You be too white to be Gangsta!
Now there’s anger registered on Angelus Sorrow’s face. He gets to his feet, slaps his large right hand around Jose Lopez’s throat and jerks him to his feet. J-Lo is trying to break free from Sorrow’s vice like grip but to no avail. Sorrow lifts Jose high into the air and then drives Lopez’s back onto the mat with a Choke Slam! Not letting go of Lopez’s throat, he jerks Lopez to his feet again, lifts him high into the air and delivers another Choke Slam!
Truth Waters: Angelus Sorrow has done lost his mind! He’s gonna break Jose Lopez in half with those Choke Slams!
George Cassidy: Angelus Sorrow just delivered his third consecutive Choke Slam and Jose Lopez isn’t moving! It’s official: Angelus Sorrow has killed Jose Lopez! One less spic to worry about running around in AWC.
Truth Waters: That was uncalled for, Cass!
George Cassidy: Hey, I calls them as I sees them.
Angelus Sorrow goes for the cover, hooking the leg...
ONE!
TWO!
THR--
Truth Waters: Sentice Vargas has broken up the count!
George Cassidy: And Lacuna Debris is in the ring, taking Sentice Vargas’ head off with a spin kick!
Angelus Sorrow sets his sights on Sentice Vargas now. He picks him up, kicks him in the gut and sets him up for a Power Bomb. He picks him up for the Power Bomb, does a 90-degree spin and sits down, drilling Vargas’ spine onto the mat.
George Cassidy: The Unbeliever by Angelus Sorrow! Sentice Vargas is done!
Lacuna Debris picks up Sentice Vargas and whips him into a corner. She raises her arms outwards in a crucifixion, springboards off the middle rope and does a backflip, kicking Vargas right in the jaw with both feet.
Truth Waters: My Wings by Lacuna Debris! Sentice Vargas is knocked out cold!
George Cassidy: Angelus Sorrow drills Jose Lopez with the Unbeliever for good measure!
Truth Waters: Here’s the cover...
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
George Cassidy: It’s all over! The New Black have kicked the Chosen Ones’ asses!
“Ambulance VS Ambulance” by The Blood Brothers starts to play as Angelus Sorrow slowly gets to his feet, raising his arms into the air. Ring announcer James Brunt announces the winners.
James Brunt: The winners of this match... Lacuna Debris and Angelus Sorrow... THE NEW BLACK!
Truth Waters: The New Black dominated the match and destroyed the Chosen Ones!
George Cassidy: So much for calling Jose Lopez and Sentice Vargas the Chosen Ones. They’re the Chosen Ones alright... chosen to get their asses handed the them by the New Black!
Truth Waters: Don’t go anywhere! Vince Jones is defending his Countdown Trophy against Mikey O’Reilly! Next!
Tag Team 101
FEATURING: THE COALITION
AUTHOR: DAVE LARKIN
The scene opens backstage at AWC’s Fresh!west broadcast inside a locker room. At this stage, it is unclear to whom it belongs. The locker room is by no tidy; several cans of soft drinks have been thrown on the floor in a haphazard fashion; a smart suit and tie combination have been hung up on a towel rail and there is an overwhelming stench of body odour.
As the camera pans across to find Phil Allen, one half of The Coalition, it becomes clear where the smell is coming from. Allen is sitting barefoot on a bench preparing himself physically for his first match back in professional wrestling since his early retirement. Allen exhibits a surprising air of calmness.
The door bursts open suddenly, but Allen does not flinch. He knows without even looking that it is his somewhat reluctant tag team partner, Wesley Reno. Dressed in a black shirt and red wrestling tights, Reno looks awkward to say the least.
Phil Allen: Finally decided you’d come back from your woman-chasing, eh? I’m glad the commitment to the cause is there, Wes, because we’re gonna need that tonight. Then again, maybe by the end of tonight you’ll be more worried about – oh, I don’t know – your ability to father children in the future. Reality check, Wes! It’s less than twenty minutes until our match!
Reno pauses for a moment, taking in what Allen has just said.
Wesley Reno: Philly, I’m not stupid. I know I’ve been a pain in the ass this week in training, but if there’s one thing politicians are good for, it’s giving it their all. This match is the equivalent of an election to me. Don’t get the wrong idea, man. I’m in it to win it tonight.
Allen gives Reno the once-over and chuckles to himself.
Phil Allen: And this is coming from a kid who’s wearing red tights which look like they belong in some low budget drag movie.
Reno rolls his eyes and sits down beside Allen as he takes a sip from his bottled water.
Wesley Reno: Philly, I’m all about compromise. If you want this team to work out for you, for both of us, we need to cooperate properly. This team is gonna benefit us both if we quit the petty arguments and just get down to business. And sure, we’re facing the Alliance champions tonight. Big deal, right? The Coalition, my friend, are…
Reno stammers, trying to come up with an attractive one-liner.
Phil Allen: I’ll do the one-liners, kid. How ‘bout the Coalition will put them in their position? That’s cool, right?
Reno shakes his head, embarrassed at Allen’s awful effort.
Wesley Reno: That’s poor, Philly, at best.
Phil Allen: Forget that, anyway. I know you’ll probably resemble a fish out of water in that ring, but I’ve put together a small presentation to help you out.
Allen walks over to what resembles a stencil and flicks the first page over quickly. It reads “Tag Team Wrestling – Hardman Style”. Reno visibly shudders at the prospect. Allen enthusiastically points out various illustrations in the diagram.
Phil Allen: Once you’ve got this kind of information in that head of yours, you’ll be fine. Just do what I tell you at all times and when I do tag you in, tag out as fast as possible. Keep in mind, though, I’m not the Duracell bunny! I will need you to get some of those moves I taught you in.
Wesley Reno: Yeah, I got you. Now can we just chill out and have a beer or something?
Allen slams the stencil with his palm to get Reno’s undivided attention, not satisfied with this response.
Phil Allen: Boy, do we have a lot of work to do…
Reno focuses on Allen’s crude illustrations of different tag team situations, though it appears that even now Reno is not paying much attention. The scene fades out as Allen begins to hop inexplicably and motions tagging one’s partner.
Short Mothafucka
FEATURING: KRIS KRIMZON, LITTLE BOY
AUTHOR: KERRY RITTER
Kris Krimzon stumbles outside into the streets of where the fuck the show is. He falls down on a sidewalk, not spilling either of the beers he is holding, and a young boy, who can’t be older than 5, walks up to him and attempts to help him up but Kris will have none of it.
Kris Krimzon: (yelling) NO I GO’H IT! STAY AWAY FRO’ MAH BEERS GOD DAMN IT!
Kris stands up as the little boy steps back a little bit. Kris’s mood warps instantly as he breaks out in laughter.
Kris Krimzon: Hey duuuuuuuude, you wanna beer man?!
Little Boy: Umm… no… I heard it does baaaaad things.
Kris Krimzon: NAAAAH MAN!! The only thin’ it does to me is make me rape my wife!
The little boy’s eyes widen.
Kris Krimzon: Well I guess rape ain’t the right wor’… its more like, random sex!
The boy grimaces. He didn’t want to hear this shit.
Kris Krimzon: Yeah man I take mah cock out and put it right in’er ‘giner and just BAM! BAM! BAM!
With each “BAM!”, he crotch thrusts forward right in the little boy’s face. The boy nearly throws up.
Kris Krimzon: Yeeeeah du’ I fuck the shit outta’er for like HOURS MAN. But here, du’.
Kris hands the little boy a beer.
Kris Krimzon: Go drink that beer, its good for ya! ‘elps build characta!
The little boy takes the beer and begins to walk away.
Kris Krimzon: HEY DUDE!
The boy turns.
Kris Krimzon: You are one short muthafucka you know that?!
The boy turns and runs away whining. Kris watches as the little boy runs up to an older woman, the beer in hand. The older woman slaps the shit out of the boy, takes the beer, and chugs it in seconds. Kris breaks out in laughter.
Carry That Weight
FEATURING: CAPTAIN SULEIMON, GENERAL RAHMAN, JACK MURPHY, DAVID "PEARL" HARBER
AUTHORS: TOM HOLZERMAN AND FERGUS THE LOON
The arena is buzzing, waiting for what's coming up next. With the onset of "The Turkish March," the fans now know and unleash massive heel heat on the next two people to step out of the curtain. From out of the back first comes General Rahman, waving the Turkish flag. Following him, in full Ottoman military officer regalia is Captain Suleimon. He walks stridently to the ring, sneering back and forth at the fans on either side of him.
Truth Waters: Once again, the AWC crowd is letting the Captain know what's up.
George Cassidy: The only thing they're letting anyone know is how ignorant they are of other cultures. Pure heathens.
Truth Waters: Yeah, that's really it. It couldn't be because this man berates the fans at every turn just because of what their blood is. Pitiful George, I'd think you'd have a lot more sense than that.
George Cassidy: I'm the one with no sense? I'm cultured! I'm refined! In fact, I had a Turkish Delight backstage before the show.
Truth Waters: You know that ain't even Turkish, right?
The Captain gets into the ring and takes the microphone from James Brunt. He taps on it, and he's about to speak before the crowd drowns him out with their boos again. He takes the mic away from his mouth, lowers it until the boos subside a little and then puts it back.
Captain Suleimon: No, go ahead, I can wait. I have all the time in the world, and I refuse to speak over a bunch of mouth-breathing Americans.
More boos, very intense. Suleimon smirks, knowing he's getting under the skin of everyone in attendance.
Truth Waters: Y'see? That's exactly the kind of thing tha makes him so reprehensible to the fans. Not just because he's a Turk.
Things settle down a little.
Captain Suleimon: There, much better. It's good that you filthy pig-dogs know at least some consideration.
Here we go again. Massive heat, Suleimon waits for it to subside.
Captain Suleimon: None of you, not a single one of you was ever taught respect at home! I bet all of you were raised by MTV and other programs of mindless dreck that pass for television over here. None of you! Not a single one! Nobody has any consideration, respect, couth. You are all as civilzed as Jack Murphy is capable as a tag team partner.
Truth Waters: What? He must have been watching a different match after getting his bell rung, because what I saw two weeks ago was Murphy CARRYING that team.
George Cassidy: Yeah, I'm a fan of the Captain here, but he's out of line. I don't think you want to be calling out the Bull like that.
Captain Suleimon: If you watched the Fresh!West program two weeks ago, you saw me, the Turkish Warrior, the Pride of the Ottoman Empire, fight tooth and nail against the mindless Christian thugs and their White Lord, dragging the so-called Bull kicking and screaming. I had everything under control, but then, Jack Murphy had to go and get himself pinned like the weakling he is. I was so embarrassed that the pity in my heart prevented me from giving him forty lashes with my belt...
Cue up Throwdown's "Burn." The fans' reaction is mixed, mostly cheers though.
Truth Waters: Let's see the so-called Sultan of Smackdown run his mouth now.
Jack Murphy steps out of the back, stopping right after he exits past the curtain. He has a microphone in hand.
Jack Murphy: Wait one second there my friend... you're trying to tell each and every person here that I was the reason we lost last time? I was the single reason that we lost to the current tag champions? I don't know what kind of place you're coming from on that one. Maybe you should take a look at how selfish and arrogant your own actions were in that Duo Tag match and see truly what the cause of our loss was.
Captain Suleimon: Selfish? Arrogant? Pfft, please, I scoff at your accusations as nothing more than a drunken, embittered Irishman. Your ineptitude is the stuff of legends, Murphy, and the only reason we were able to come close to defeating those dullards was due to my strategy. Perhaps you ought to go home and take another swig of that Jameson swill that passes for whiskey in your pathetic homeland.
Jack Murphy: Nationality is such an easy way out for you Sully isn't it? I'm just a stereotype to you? Well, while you've been stuck down with the dregs of this establishment, I had better things to be doing with myself than drinking. Like... winning the Transatlantic gold? Maybe it's just a paltry relic to you but to me it represents the honour and dignity of our sport... something you are clearly lacking.
Captain Suleimon: Oh don't you give me that pap about honor and dignity. What have honor and dignity ever gotten anyone? Honor and dignity hold people back, they keep people from reaching their true potential, which sadly for you as an Irishman, is only to be a flash-in-the-pan, one month titleholder who only got there because you were sleeping with Sasha Volkyeva! You tell me that nationality is a crutch, but I tell you it's the key. Your country produces drunks and bog bodies. Mine produces sultans. If I don't have honor and dignity according to your stilted, Western definitions, then so be it, but in the end, it shall be I who attains the most, not some two-bit thug like yourself. You have no business being in the same arena as I am, let alone being my tag team partner.
Murphy chuckles along soon after the Captain finishes his speech.
Jack Murphy: You call it the key? Well then tell me something, why aren't we under the great rule of the Ottoman Empire? If your sultans are so powerful... why do they sit like roasting pigs, waiting for the taking of the Americans? I find it insulting that you reference me to some overarching ideal, when it's clear that you live in it just as much as I do. If anything, you are the one restricted by Western definitions... for if your sultans were oh so powerful, what need would there be to even travel to America to ply your trade? Or am I wrong?
Captain Suleimon: Yes, you are wrong. Dead wrong. You know full well why the sultans are gone from the Earth. Western powers got too afraid of our power and conspired to hold us down after World War I, after Germany and Austria failed to hold up their end of the bargain in the Triple Alliance. It was collusion and greed that did my fair country in. Our people are under the spell of the West, and only now, with people like myself leading the charge, can we get back to where we belong, and that is dominating the likes of you. And as for why I'm here plying my trade... I am doing whatever it takes to meet my ends. You don't have the drive to do whatever it takes, and that's why we lost. That's why your dead weight was too heavy to carry, because you don't know how to do whatever it takes, because it interferes with your ideals of dignity and honor. PTOOEY! I spit at your values! They make you nothing more than a weakling!
Jack Murphy: Live in the past, that's what my people did for hundreds of years. It took a bunch of people crazy enough to just do something. If you doubt my drive, that's ok, I don't need any vindication from a wrestler who disgraces this sport with every tread of his boot that he lays in this ring. I think there's only one way to solve this whole business between you and me... don't you think? Forget history, forget values and morals and all the other convoluted bullshit we can speak here endlessly. All that matters to those people out in the audience is one thing...can you beat me or will I beat you? So what do you say? I've gotta believe you've got at least one trace of integrity to you to follow through with this... or is tagging me blind only the tip of the iceberg in so far as cowardice?
Suleimon puts the mic to his mouth, but before he can speak, "Bohemian Like You" hits up over the PA and on the screen comes David “Pearl” Harber.
Pearl: Will you two shut up? You're both giving me a headache. Seriously, this blame game and history lesson stops now. In fact, since you two have annoyed me so much in the last fifteen minutes, I'm going to make sure you're going to get annoyed. So the next time we run a show, you two bozos are going to team with each other. That's right, your little team will have another go around.
Captain Suleimon: But... but...
Jack Murphy: Hey, what happened to doing what you had to do?
Captain Suleimon: Oh... alright. But I expect to be paid double for carrying you again.
Jack Murphy: We'll see about that.
Pearl: Then it's settled. Have fun boys.
Harber comes off-screen as Suleimon stares hard at Murphy. Murphy exits the ring area as Suleimon and Rahman follow suit shortly thereafter.
George Cassidy: That was... pretty intense!
Truth Waters: Pearl forcing Jack Murphy and Captain Suleimon to team up again next time out!
Vince Jones (cth) vs Mikey O'Reilly
STIPULATION: COUNTDOWN TROPHY
REFEREE: MICHAEL RYAN
AUTHORS: LARA C. AND ADAM?
A melodic, beautiful sound of a pair of acoustic guitars fills the arena with music. An Italian style solo plays, and then the introduction fades into hard, driving metal as 'The Enemy' by Team Cazares starts to play.
James Brunt: Making his way to the ring, formally from Belfast, Ireland, now residing in Boston, Massachusetts, weighing 230 pounds... MIKEY O'REILLY!
Mikey O'Reilly is seen slowly making his way onto the ramp. He looks out into the crowd, feeding off the mixed reaction, and throws a few punches, as to get some more shadow boxing in before his match. He then makes his way down to the ring as the yells of Mark Hunter fill the arena.
I finally found myself;
I tried to erase all this hate from my body.
I tried to end all the lies, all the pain that I caused everyone,
but it all seemed so fucking useless!
He rolls into the ring, climbing up one of the corners, raising his arms up.
I can’t forgive
and I can’t forget.
Don’t you know who the fuck I am?
I’m the enemy.
THE ENEMY!
The enemy.
THE ENEMY!
He hops off the corner, removes his leather, porkpie style hat, puts it in the corner of the ring, facing up. He removes his golden catholic cross, kisses it, places it inside the hat and removes his white wife beater, as he waits for his opponent.
Truth Waters: There is our challenger of the evening, the bare knuckle brawler from Ireland… Do you think he can hang with our trophy holder Jones?
George Cassidy Truth, trying to defeat Jones is almost impossible, especially by some Mick, who doesn’t even know what sport he is in… Who’s next? Paddy O’Shea? I mean come on…
The lights in the arena dim and a small fog begins to rise lining the ramp way leading down to the ring. All of a sudden a loud, booming, demon-like voice bellows out the message 'PREPARE TO ENTER MY HELL, MY REALM, AND MY GAME...' as the words flash up on the jumbo-tron screen in pulsing red letters.
James Brunt: Making his way to the ring, the current Countdown trophy holder, hailing from New York City, New York weighing 269 pounds... Vince Jones!
The message quickly fades away and the voice bellows out the message '...ENTER THE VIOLENCE' as the words appear on the jumbo-tron screen embossed by flames. All of a sudden a loud gunshot rings out through the arena and 'Thug Luv' by 2Pac and Bone Thugs N' Harmony begins to blare throughout the arena. 'The Violence' Vince Jones emerges from the entrance and makes his way to the edge of the ramp way with a black baseball bat in hand followed by the lovely Jasmine. He stops and raises the baseball bat in the air and flashes the hand sign of his old gang from New York as red pyro’s explodes behind him. He slowly makes his way down ringside totally oblivious to the flickering camera flashes and the hatred of the crowd. He slides into the ring, climbs the nearest turnbuckle and looks out at the crowd as if he's in a trance, drawing in energy from the hatred the crowd has for him. He finally awakens and points the baseball bat out at the members of the crowd and once again raises the baseball bat above his head and flashes the hand sign of his gang. He then climbs back down to the mat and stares down his opponent.
Truth Waters: The champ has brought his lucky charms!
George Cassidy: Oh yea? What are they?
Truth Waters: The trophy and his bat…
George Cassidy: Forgot about Jasmine? Luckily, they have the clock up on screen so we can stop listening to you.
Across the screen of the jumbo tron in big letters is 5:00 indicating that the next match will only last for five minutes as for all of the Countdown trophy matches. Referee Michael Ryan acknowledges the clock on the tron points towards the middle of the ring and then calls for the bell. The bell is rung and the clock starts to tick.
The two men start walking towards each other in the ring. O’Reilly swings with the first punch landing a hard left.
George Cassidy: Mikey not holding anything back lands the first blow.
Truth Waters: We should see some retaliation from the big black man from New York, I am sure he knows how to throw a punch.
Just as Truth expected Jones fires back with a right of his own, but Mikey O’Reilly does not hesitate to throw another, and then another, but yet again his two are followed up by two from O’Reilly. Referee Michael Ryan wondering if he should be stopping the punches.
Truth Waters: Ryan deciding not to stop the boxing match as it seems to have been just yet, looks up at the screen to watch the clock and seeing how much longer he must endure this.
George Cassidy: Mikey O’Reilly is showing his bare knuckling boxing skills tonight… If he can continue this he might be able to take it home.
Just as George says that, Mikey gets his opportunity by landing a left jab, then coming in with a right hook, and slowly finishing up with a punch to the sternum sending Vince Jones to the ground. The crowd shows a mixed reaction and Mikey is setting himself up for when Vince gets back up.
Truth Waters: Jones has already lost the boxing portion of this match, now he needs to switch it to be a wrestling match like it is supposed to be, not a boxing match.
George Cassidy: If it was that bad referee Michael Ryan would have stopped it before it got out of hand.
Jones scouts the ring, looking towards the only momentum he has – the ropes. Mikey’s legs spread slightly, his fists clenched and raised. His stance strong as he starts to circle Jones who remains on the ground, wiping his lip with his arm.
George Cassidy: Time’s a wastin’.
Mikey turns to move on Jones, but Jones spins hooking his legs round Mikey’s ankle, spinning and Mikey falls to the ground, using his hands to protect his face he hits the mat with an almighty wallop as he holds his stomach – winded on impact.
Jones gains momentum now, gripping Mikey’s foot he carries Mikey away from the ropes and hoists him into the air. With his back now turned, Mikey looks towards Jasmine who stands outside smug as usual.
Truth Waters: Jasmine distracting Mikey with some slander!
Mikey hooks his finger in an unmannerly fashion toward Jasmine, but as he does so, Jones runs off the ropes and hooks his arms around the back of Mikey’s head connecting with a neckbreaker. Mikey hits the mat and remains down as Jones slips around and pins.
ONE!
TW-
Mikey kicks out, both men turn to the screen as a figure flashes before their eyes.
3:58
Truth Waters: Time is passing and both need a win…
George Cassidy: Sit back and watch Jones master this one.
Realising time is being cut short, Mikey switches his momentum now focusing all his energy on the wrestling portion of the match. His eyes cunningly spotting a part of Jones’s body to use as a weakness.
Jones runs forward, arms open looking to connect with a hold, but Mikey swings his left hand knocking Jones in the nose. Jones stumbles cursing as he looks blurry eyed toward the figure moving toward him, Mikey now gaining the advantage, takes the offensive. Sending a swift boot to Jones’s sternum, Jones bites on air, coughing a wheezing with the brute strength. Mikey hooks Jones into what seems like an average suplex, but suddenly switches and connects with a Jackhammer Suplex, the ring shaking on impact.
George Cassidy: What in the blue blazes?
Truth Waters: Just an average Irish man, huh? That was power.
George Cassidy; Where’d that come from? He’s a bare knuckle fighter…
Truth Waters: Mentored by Zsasz…
As the two commentators debate Mikey’s stature within wrestling, Mikey slides around the ring and grips Jones arms and rolling him over, and applies a Fujiwara arm bar. Jones coils in pain, biting his lip as Mikey hooking his boot corners into the ring pulls up against Jones, reefing his arm backwards. Referee Michael Ryan looks on, thinking the arm is about to snap.
2:56
Truth Waters: This could be nasty.
Jasmine seeing Jones in trouble grabs his ankle and tugs, Mikey releases the hold and Jones hooks one arm around the rope while rubbing his shoulder.
George Cassidy: Close call, looked like Vince was ready to tap.
Truth Waters: Jones isn’t looking too hot.
Jones rises up onto his feet and stares coldly toward Mikey O’Reilly, who’s is now pumped and ready, become aggressive in his wrestling style. Shaking his shoulder, Vince charges, Mikey ducks, swivels his body and sends Vince flying with a hip toss. Vince flops onto his feet again and charges once more, another hip toss from Mikey.
Vince Jones tensing his muscles stands up again, and races towards Mikey, Mikey spreads his legs a little as Vince runs right into him, Mikey not flinching grips Vince in what appears to be a bear hug, but suddenly changes his stance and swings, sending Vince flying with a Belly-to-Belly suplex.
Scrambling onto his feet, Mikey crawls, hooking Vince’s leg for the pin.
ONE!
TWO!
THR--
KICKOUT
Jones kicks out, swinging his fist towards the temple of Mikey O’Reilly. Mikey rolls off of Jones and rubs the side of his head, a tingling sweeping down his jaw and along his cheek.
Truth Waters: Another close call, O’Reilly showing some good leverage.
George Cassidy: Luck of the Irish! I tell you… He’s just lucky. Jones is warming up.
Truth Waters: Mmm…
Ryan checks on the two and stands once more out of the way of Mikey’s violent throwing of Jones. Rising to his feet, Jones checks once more around the ring, steadying himself as he listens to Jasmines cheers and encouraging tone.
Both men circle one another again, Mikey throws a hard right, but Vince ducks delivering one of his own boots to Mikey’s sternum and with the quick offensive he connects with a mind blowing DDT. The impact of skull on leather reverberates around the ring as Mikey’s legs shoot out from under him.
George Cassidy: And we are back…
Jones takes the advantage to tend to his sore shoulder as he looks around the fans mixed reaction, cheers and boos intertwined, neither distinguishable. Mikey rolls over, rubbing his forehead as his eyes are blinded momentarily by the searing lights above him – Jones turns now as he sees Mikey starting to regain his equilibrium.
Mikey rises onto his feet and watches a trundling shade comes tearing towards him, Jones connecting a sharp clothesline as both are thrown over the elastic top rope to the harsh mat below. Mikey rolls as his back collides with the fencing surrounding the ring, Jones finds himself tied around the twisted ropes, his wrist caught in between the top and second rope as Ryan undoes the coil.
Truth Waters: Vince is a little tangled up right now.
1:50
George Cassidy: Time’s a wasting… Get a move on.
Seeing the clock ticking by at an alarming rate, Jones shrugs off the pain in his wrist and moves towards Mikey, delivering a hard knee into his chin sending Mikey rolling along the bottom of the fencing. Fans throwing their hands of the sides to touch Jones as he moves along, chasing his prey.
Mikey springs to his feet ignoring the blood oozing from his nose as he runs into the ring, breaking up Ryan’s count. Jones follows but finds a harsh stomp planted on his wrist, he screams with the pain.
Truth Waters: O’Reilly on the offensive.
Mikey now gripping Jones by the head lifts him to his feet delivering a few lefts and rights before sending him across the ring and connecting with the ropes, but Vince holds on. His arms gripping the ropes against the momentum of the spring. Mikey smug with himself takes a step back and regains his breath he charges forward, but his foot is caught. Jasmine grips his ankle and let’s go sending Mikey hurdling at full force against the mat, biting his lip on impact.
Ryan looks on confused and points a finger toward Jasmine – shrugging off the boo's and referees debacle, Jasmine retreats back to her corner and remains the ever gracious cheerleader for Jones.
George Cassidy: What’d I tell you, Jones is the man of the match here.
Truth Waters: Don’t give up on Mikey yet. He’s proving his worth here tonight.
Jones turns Mikey over but gets a strong fist in his nose, knocking Jones backwards, Mikey springs to life and waits as Jones stumbles forward, suddenly Jones finds himself being lifted into the air, the world before him upside down, his arms being raked behind him, his neck balanced precariously on Mikey’s neck.
Truth Waters: This doesn’t look good…
George Cassidy; Is… that… The… Falling… Of… Christ?
Truth Waters: It… is…?
Cassidy looks on like the rest of the arena as Jones sits in the air, upside down in Canadian Backbreaker, but suddenly as Mikey attempts to turn it into a Crucifix Pile Driver, Jones flicks his legs, landing on the ground and steadying his momentum he turns and delivers a low blow to Mikey O’Reilly.
Truth Waters: Did he just---
George Cassidy: (clapping hands) Indeed. Jones just reversed the falling of Christ. He REVERSED THE FUCKING FALLING OF CHRIST!
Mikey looking shocked and holding his groin region turns to Jones, standing smug before him as he wipes his nose with his arm, a trail of blood trickling along his arm as he does so.
00:48
Truth Waters: Seconds left in the match…
George Cassidy: More than enough time.
Jones delivers a large upper hook turning Mikey on impact, steadying his stance Jones goes for the ending.
Truth Waters: Inverted Brain Buster…
George Cassidy: The Silencer…
Jones connects The Silencer on Mikey, who lies out flat as Jones goes for the pin.
00:20
Mikey doesn’t seem to be moving as his body lies limp, Jones coils his leg and applies all his pressure to keep Mikey’s shoulders pinned.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
George Cassidy: What’d I tell you…
Truth Waters: No need for Sudden Death! No need for the bat! Mikey O’Reilly taken down despite a decent performance, as Vince Jones has really adapted to these strict-time situations!
George Cassidy: The master of the Countdown.
Vince Jones rises to his feet, another victorious win as Countdown trophy holder. Ryan hoists him arm into the arm as Brunt takes a microphone.
James Brunt: The winner, and still Countdown trophy holder, “THE VIOLENCE” VINCE JONES!
Jones’s music hits, Jasmine awaits for him to walk out with her, leaving a rattled Mikey O’Reilly in the ring to pick up the pieces…
Urination Is Passing You By
FEATURING: PWC, DAVID "PEARL" HARBER
AUTHOR: KERRY RITTER
Kris Krimzon is back in the same room he pissed all over earlier although the room is cleaner. Shawn Harris is also in the room when David “Pearl” Harber walks in. Kris leaps up, slips, and falls back on the bench he was sitting on. Now laying on his back on the floor, his feet in the air, he yells.
Kris Krimzon: HOLY SHIT! IT’S A FUCKIN’ OCTOPUS!
Harris and Harber both look at Krimzon in confusion.
Pearl: What?
Kris Krimzon: (pulling himself to his feet) THE FUCKIN’ OCT’PUS CAN TALK!
Pearl: Kris, what are you talking about?
Kris gasps and squints at ‘the octopus’ curiously.
Kris Krimzon: How do you know my name Mista’ Octopus?
Pearl: Kris, quit fooling around.
Kris Krimzon: How can you sur’ive outta the watah?!
Pearl: Kris, you’re drunk. You have to leave. You shouldn’t even be here anyway, you’re on the East roster! People are talking, you know; I can’t let you keep coming to AWC-West if you’re just going to mess around; I know you’re a good guy… er… VERY deep down, but---
Kris Krimzon: I AIN’T DRUNKED GO’ DAMN IT!
Shawn and David look at each other and sigh. Kris looks at Shawn and slowly walks up to him, not taking his eyes off of Pearl.
Kris Krimzon: (whispering) He’ll die if he ain’t got watah… I’ll have to pee on him.
Shawn, barely holding his laughter, replies.
Shawn Harris: (whispering) You’re right man. Go for it.
Kris walks near Pearl.
Kris Krimzon: Okay mistah Octopus, you gotsta stay still for a sec’.
Pearl: What for?
Kris walks behind Harber, unzips his pants… Harber leaps in the air and runs as far as possible.
Kris Krimzon: DAMNIT OCTOPUS I SAID STAY STILL! Hey I ran out of wee-wee! Oh wait, here’s a bit…
Meanwhile, Shawn Harris is bursting out with laughter.
Shawn Harris: URINATION IS PASSING YOU BY, HARBER!
Pearl: That’s it! You can forget about special dispensation to be here - let alone participating in the Battle Royal! I’m getting your asses thrown out of here Kris!
Kris Krimzon: (peeing) WHAT FO’H MISTAH OCTOPUS!?
Meanwhile, Shawn Harris is bursting out with laughter. Kris turns towards Shawn.
Kris Krimzon: OH MY GO’H! IT’S A FISH!
Kris, now knowing what to do says…
Kris Krimzon: Okay mister Fishy, you gotsta stay still for a second.
Shawn Harris: …FUCK THIS!
Harris runs out of the room, as well does Harber. Kris stands in the middle of the room, hands on his hips, still peeing.
Trials And Tribulations
FEATURING: THE FURIOUS FISTS OF GOD
AUTHOR: SAM LANDRY
George Cassidy: Oh great, who’s this coming out now?
The arena doesn’t get dark, but the song “Hallelujah” starts to play and from out back Tim and Liam Martin, the Furious Fists of God, walk out with the Alliance titles on their shoulders. They stand at the top of the ramp for a second, taking it all in and scowling at all the sinners in the crowd.
James Brunt: Making their way to the ring, the AWC Alliance champions... THE FURIOUS FISTS OF GOD! Truth Waters: These crazy suckas, always preachin’ about keeping a nigga like me down.
George Cassidy: Truth, you can’t say that, you idiot!
Truth Waters: Shut up, fool!
Tim and Liam Martin walk down the ramp to a chorus of boos and a “GO TO HELL!” chant that the Fists are visibly ignoring. Eventually they get to the ring and slide in. Liam stands to the side while Tim is in the middle, pulling a microphone out of his trunks.
Tim Martin: Sinners of Georgia, I say hello. Hello to the gene pool, hello to wy idiots like Darwin ever had the thoughts he did. When are you idiots going to evolve anyways?
Crowd: BOOO!
Tim Martin: Apologies, for I am not here to rip into your shortcomings; St. Peter will do that when you arrive at heaven for the first and last time. Rather, I am here tonight to address some… how do you say… fucking idiots.
Truth Waters: I think he’s talking about The New Black!
George Cassidy: Or maybe he’s talking about that OTHER team that called out The Furious Fists last week, eh?
Tim Martin: The New Black, you speak so highly of yourself that I would think that Jesus Fucking Christ was going to rip the titles from my shoulder! You pinned or defeated or whatever you did, you did it to a trillion people. Mhm. Great.
Liam Martin: *muffled in the background* Lordy lord, fucking great!
Tim Martin: The thing is… who are you? No, really, WHO are you guys? I prayed to the Lord, I prayed long and hard for the answer, and when I opened my eyes, I saw the answer in front of me…
Tim pulls out a dollar bill.
Truth Waters: What he doin’, some cheap way to insult the New Black? They’re worth more than that!
Tim Martin: While this IS an accurate representation of your worth, you have to look harder, or rather right in the middle on a certain side of a dollar. Now, when we recount the Revolutionary War, we remember George Washington. Do we remember the soldiers who helped Washington?
Tim pauses for a minute.
Tim Martin: Of course we fucking don’t. Now, while the soldiers paved the way for Washington’s success, they are forgotten, nothing, and Washington comes out as the premier name. Now, The New Black, YOU are the soldiers. While you defeated all those teams, Liam and I jumped in as the real victors. Not only did we come out with the titles, but we had enough energy to go to mass that night. I think the sermon was on fucking dumb asses who can’t understand what we’re saying, so let me read a passage from it…
Tim pulls out a piece of paper from his back pocket.
Tim Martin: Ahem… um… The New Black, the Lord Said…
Liam grabs the microphone from Tim.
Liam Martin: Suck our fat dicks!
The crowd boos immensely
Tim Martin: Liam, please! *rips microphone away* That’s not what it said! Let me re-read it.
Tim pulls out some reading spectacles.
Tim Martin: Ahem… Suck our fat dicks! Holy shit, it did say that Liam! Hahaha!
The crowd boos.
Tim Martin: So, The New Black, what I GUESS I’m saying is that, no, The Furious Fists of God will NOT give you the titles, no, no, no. But… BUT BUT BUT! We do have an announcement.
George Cassidy: An announcement?
Truth Waters: Yes, sucka, shut up!
Tim Martin: You are going to be put through a test… a journey… a Crusade for Coast To Coast! Now, what will this be? What will you fucking idiots being doing? Well, announced on the two West shows leading up to Coast To Coast, we will put you through trials and tribulations. Hardships, I say, hardships! Here, you will show if you’re worthy or not for the Lord. If you are, you face The Furious Fists Of God for the Alliance titles. And if not…
Liam Martin: May God have mercy on your souls!
The Fists drop their microphones and walk out of the ring and step down onto the rubber. The crowd starts chanting “GO TO HELL!”, which the Fists just ignore.
Truth Waters: Trials and tribulations, hmm?
George Cassidy: The Fists have tests for Lacuna and Angelus!
Practise Safe Sex - Use Condiments!
FEATURING: ELLIS NASH, GARBAGE BAG JOHNNY
AUTHORS: LIA AND JOSH K.
Ellis Nash is still kind of pissed about Garbage Bag spewing a hot load of mustard into her eyes, which is probably why she isn't too taken about going to his locker room in the first place. Whatever though, now stupid Adam isn't around there isn't anyone else to jack a lighter off of.
She spares any sort of manners by simply throwing GBJ's door open. It slams against the wall, reverberating.
Ellis Nash: GBJ! Give me a lighter.
Garbage Bag fumbles through the pockets of his pajama pants, pulling out a wad of receipts and tossing them wayside before procuring a lighter and tossing it to Ellis.
Garbage Bag Johnny: I’m fine too, thanks for asking. Except, I had to get some X-Rays last week. The doctors say I might have a broken win streak.
Nash catches the lighter and ignites the cigarette. One drag later, she leans against the wall and looks down on Garbage Bag listlessly, ready to fire off a impassible response.
Then, she remembers Pearl's proposition.
Oh, sweet Lord. Here goes.
Ellis Nash: Sorry about that, cutie. You know how the game goes.
In slow motion, Ellis flicks the cigarette to the side. The couch catches on fire, but Garbage Bag doesn't notice. Is Ellis sauntering towards him?
Garbage Bag Johnny: Uh, Ellis, are you sauntering towards me?
Garbage Bag Johnny backs up, his mind whirring with uncertainty thanks to a cocktail of drugs that he may or may not be on at the time depending on the accuracy of GBJ’s short-term memory. Even so, Garbage Bag Johnny is Adam’s friend, and even if he weren’t, he knows he’s not the standard definition of an attractive man by any means, but he’s still a man, damn it! So GBJ just plays it cool.
Garbage Bag Johnny: So the KGB sent you to finish the job, huh? Well, you can go back and tell Comrade Putin that I knew this day would come, so I swallowed those documents… all 487 pages of them piece by piece. Took me twenty six days, it did!
Ellis Nash: .......
Anyway, Ellis keeps on sauntering until she's all sauntered up in Garbage Bag's personal space, ignoring the satiating stench of dumpster coming off in tsunami waves - we're talking 65+foot waves of ass. The reek, however, does not hinder Ellis Nash's quest for seduction in the most trashiest of forms......
A form that includes bending over ridiculously slowly in front of him, allowing the cushioning of womanly women breasts to become visible. In addition, Ellis places a palm on one of Garbage Bag's cheek, stroking with pseudo-relish through the greasy facial hair.
Ellis Nash: Gee, Garbage Bag... I never thought you'd be this handsome up close...
Garbage Bag nervously moves back, trying to balance his hands on the table behind him, knocking down numerous knick-knacks he has piled on top of it. Ellis Nash’s feminine wiles are all too much for Garbage Bag to resist though his trained olfactory sense stands to dispel the previously misleading rumors that he smells like waves of ass. The smell in question is that of neglected laundry, years of pot-smoke and bong water spills, and the collective musk of sweat and smoke that reefs around him like a storm cloud.
Garbage Bag Johnny: Are you feeling alright, Ellis? I, uh, I mean, uh, well… I did stand outside in the rain for three hours last night, you know, shouting at people.
Giggling painfully, awkwardly, but most importantly what she hopes to be adoringly, Ellis uses her thumb to caress GBJ's cheek. She tilts her head, mesmerized by...
Ellis Nash: Oh, Garbage Bag. Your eyes are so mesmerizing! I could get lost in them forever.
Garbage bag chuckles nervously, now fully aware of the strange surrealism of the situation.
Garbage Bag Johnny: Well, please don’t. One time, an ant crawled into my eye, and I freaked out. That’s why I can’t have curtains in my house no more.
GBJ chuckles again, creepily, like your crazy uncle does when he tells you stories about biker chicks he banged back in the 80’s when the whole world was on cocaine cooked with baking soda. It is painfully obvious how advantageous this peculiar rendezvous could turn out to be for GBJ… and if Adam were to find out, blackout drunkenness is the all too perfect alibi. Heh heh heh!
Ellis blinks.
The things she does for this stupid e-fed.
Deciding that this isn't working primarily because GBJ is not shoving his filthy tongue down her fertile throat yet, Ellis asserts herself in the only other way she knows possible: first, placing a hand on either of GBJ's knees. Then, sliding them up his... God, his thighs, and finally, suppressing the urge to retch, hoists herself onto his lap.
And GBJ, the smooth bastard that he is, dips his toe in the figurative pool to test the waters - see if the fish are biting, you know, because back in the day people didn’t use bait. They just stuck their feet in the water and the fish were so plentiful, they’d just latch onto one of your toes. But anyway…
Garbage Bag Johnny: What do you say we go over to the refrigerator and I cover you in honey dijon, head to toe?
Ellis teehees, albeit remotely disgusted. She traces a finger down Garbage Bag's chest, tilts her chin downwards, and purrs lasciviously.
Ellis Nash: I thought you'd never ask.
Garbage Bag places Ellis back down off of his lap before hobbling over to his mini-fridge. He opens the door and proceeds to pull out a bottle of squeezable mustard, doing some David Blaine shit because the bottle of mustard is noticeably larger than the refrigerator- almost as if it were being fed through a hole in the wall into the fridge by a member of the AWC stage crew or something.
Garbage Bag Johnny: I might need a stepladder for this...
And the camera cuts out before AWC gets sued.
The Coalition vs The Furious Fists Of God
STIPULATION: DUO TAG
REFEREE: RICHIE TRAVIS
AUTHOR: JEFFY
The arena goes dark. On the jumbo tron, a face that is half Liam, half Tim Martin shows up, with the words "The Furious Fists of God" coming up in Blood Letters. Then, pyros burst at the top of the ramp as the song "Hallelujah" hits.
Hallelujahhhhhh...
Hallelujahhhhhh...
James Brunt: The following is a Duo Tag match! Making their way down to the ring, at a combined weight of 607 pounds... the AWC Alliance champions... Tim and Liam Martin, THE FURIOUS FISTS OF GOD!
Out of the smoke and fire are Tim and Liam Martin, kneeling there in prayer. Above them video of the two executing moves against opponents are flashing by. Once they finish prayer, they walk down the ramp, side by side, to the ring. They climb in there and jump on the turnbuckles to a combination of church music and boos.
Truth Waters: They good look tonight, as they are set to take on a new duo debuting here tonight.
George Cassidy: The Coalition are up next.
"Eye of the Tiger" by Survivor starts up, the fans look on in excitement.
James Brunt: And their opponents, at a combined weight of 365 pounds, they are Wesley Reno and Phil Allen, THE COALITION!
Wesley and Phil make their way to the ring, they are met midway however as the Furious Fists of God waste no time in taking the fight to them, the music quickly stops as the referee tries to gain control.
George Cassidy: The Fists of God look ready tonight; they want to solidify their position as champions.
Truth Waters: Well yeah, but it’s a non-title match.
George Cassidy: Well that’s what I just said isn’t it? This new team doesn’t look half bad though.
Reno gets out the ring as Allen continues to pound on Tim; Liam tries to help but is also forced out of the ring. Allen whips Tim to the ropes then hits a powerful clothesline that sends Tim over the top rope to the outside, he goes to the top rope and jumps off with a top rope cross body block, he hits Tim and hits him hard as they almost go over the security barrier, Liam goes to help but Reno jumps off his side of the ring and runs over to Liam, he clobbers him in the back of the head then starts booting the hell out of him, he picks him up and throws him at the ring steps. He goes over to Tim and picks him up, he and Allen then whip him hard into the ring post, the two team members high five each other and get back into the ring. The referee warns the two to leave them alone then starts the ten counts.
ONE! TWO! THREE!
Truth Waters: Oh my God, Allen and Reno have just destroyed The Furious Fists of God as soon as the match began!
George Cassidy: They truly are a force to be reckoned with, but I have a feeling the Fists aren’t done yet.
FOUR! FIVE! SIX! SEVEN! EIGHT!
Tim gets to his feet and tries to crawl into the ring.
NINE!
Tim just makes it into the ring before the ten count can be reached.
George Cassidy: Hey, I thought we had a five-count?
Pause.
Truth Waters: Er, I think we do.
Pause.
George Cassidy: Maybe because Sasha’s on the other tour...
Pause.
Truth Waters: But we still have the high fences!
Pause.
George Cassidy: Hmm. It’s a mystery.
Tim Martin takes a few moments to collect himself as the referee starts shouting at Allen and Reno, they sidestep the referee and go after Tim who fights back by hitting Allen with a T-Bone suplex out of nowhere, Reno hits Tim in the face but Tim comes back with a massive clothesline, the crowd begin to boo even louder, Allen gets to his feet and hits him with a German suplex, but by this time, Liam is in the ring and hits a big boot to Allen, he throws Reno out of the ring and he goes to his corner trying to get the match back on track. Tim gets to his feet as does Allen, they begin to crack each other in the face hard, and Tim comes out the better though and throws Allen into the corner. He runs at him but Allen moves out of the way, as Tim hits the turnbuckle Allen slaps him hard around the back of the head then kicks him in the back of his right leg making him fall to the mat. Before Allen can do much of anything else Tim gets a drop toe hold and makes Allen hit his throat on the bottom rope, he holds his throat in pain and rolls about.
Truth Waters: It looks like this man just got choked out.
George Cassidy: I hope he’s alright, he’s doing quite well.
Truth Waters: Who are you trying to be? Steven Smith?
Tim crawls over to Liam and tags him in, Liam goes on the assault straight away by running over to Allen and landing an elbow drop to the back of the head, and he picks him up and hits him with a powerbomb. He then applies a leg lock but Reno gets in the ring and breaks it up, the referee tells him to get out of the ring but Reno just shouts at him which makes him retreat, he boots Liam in the side of the head which causes Tim to come to his aid by taking out Reno with a STO Slam, Reno retreats and Tim goes after him! He goes to the outside and begins hitting him with punches then puts him on top of the announcers table.
George Cassidy: Oh no! They’re right out in front of us here.
Truth Waters: I can see that, I hope our new table isn’t going to get broken.
Pause.
George Cassidy: Hold on, aren’t we sitting on the stage, rather than at ringside?
Pause.
Truth Waters: We’re definitely supposed to be...
Pause.
George Cassidy: Maybe it’s because Sasha’s on the other t---
Truth Waters: I CAN SEE WHERE I'M GOD DAMN SITTING CASSIDY AND IT’S NOT WHERE THIS MATCH WRITER THINKS!
Tim gets on the table also and picks up Reno, he hits the The Lord’s Wish but the table doesn’t break, as Reno lands right on his neck. Tim gets back into the ring and goes to his corner as Liam is up, he picks up Allen but Allen fights back hitting left and rights then kicks him in the crotch, he just stands there laughing at him obviously wearing a cup, that is until he hits him with a front dropkick and he goes down, Allen then locks on the Camel Clutch trying to make him tap but he just tries to make her way to the ropes and he does, gripping tightly, the referee forces Allen to remove the hold which he does. Allen gets to his feet and goes for the tag but realises that Reno is knocked unconscious on the announcers table, which gets pushed onto the floor by Truth Waters.
Truth Waters: That’s better, now we can see the match.
George Cassidy: That was a brutal move there by Tim, he just crumbled to the floor like a sack of potatoes.
By this time however Liam has made the tag to Tim who gets into the ring and squashes Allen in the corner of the ring. Allen holds his stomach but Tim hits the scissors kick to the back of the neck! He then locks in the figure four leglock, Reno begins to stir on the outside of the ring and slowly gets to his feet, Allen sits up and begins belting Tim in the side of the face with lefts and rights. Tim’s grip on the figure four loosens; Reno has finally gotten back to his feet, he slides into the ring and dives at Tim with an elbow to the face. The Coalition picks Tim up and goes for The Political View but Reno is pushed off the top rope by Liam and goes flying to the outside, Liam gets in the ring and grabs Allen, he whips him into the ropes, Tim quickly jumps to his feet, spins around and nails the Fist of God. Tim then goes for the pin.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
George Cassidy: Oh my! That came out of nowhere!
Truth Waters: It was a very close match but the Fists of God came out victorious yet again. Good showing by the Coalition though.
James Brunt: The winners... The Furious Fists of God!
A Gift From A Friend
FEATURING: LACUNA DEBRIS, ZSASZ
AUTHORS: JEREMY J. AND SIMON HUNTER
Lacuna Debris is standing next to a soda vending machine, drink a Coke and leaning against the wall. She is still feeling the affects of her Duo Tag match against The Chosen Ones, but she looks better than she feels. After having a shower, a small snack and now a Coke from the vending machine, she feels a little better about herself.
She’s been waiting on Angelus Sorrow for more than twenty minutes. He’s been going through some documentation over Lacuna’s rehabilitation and he told her he’d be out in five. That was fifteen minutes ago.
Draining the rest of her beverage, she tosses the can in the nearest trashcan. Since Angelus is taking forever with Lacuna’s rehabilitation papers, maybe Lacuna can find something to do to alleviate her impatience and boredom.
She doesn’t go very far in the backstage area when she feels a pair of eyes on her. She half expects Angelus Sorrow looking at her, telling her that he’s done and they can leave the building. When she turns to meet her cousin, she frowns, discovering that the person staring at her isn’t her cousin...
Lacuna is looking at a large, blonde-haired, blue-eyed man, dressed from head to toe in an expensive, tailor-made suit. He is walking towards her, carrying a crimson red velvet bag with tied closed by a white string. Lacuna stands her ground, looking around the area as if she’s in search for something, hoping that her cousin, Angelus, comes out to save her.
With Angelus Sorrow nowhere to be found, Zsasz stops about a foot away from Lacuna Debris. He has a smile on his face, as if he’s reacquainted with someone he hasn’t seen in years. His sapphire blue eyes are twinkling, his demeanor looks relaxed and he appears to be friendly. Too bad Zsasz isn’t friendly; he doesn’t know the definition of the word.
Zsasz: Greetings, Ms Devries. Might I say you look simply divine this evening.
Lacuna Debris looks around again, hoping that Angelus Sorrow comes out to deal with this large man in front of her. When he’s nowhere to be found, she keeps her composure, deciding to play this little game with this large man.
Lacuna Debris: No, you cannot, unless you want to kindly retract your nose from my arse. How do you know my name, have we met somewhere before? You’re a pimp right?
Zsasz ignores her, marinating a composed expression. Zsasz: Everyone knows who you are. You’re Lacuna Debris, former UWF Television Champion. And to answer your next question, I can be whoever you want me to be, depending how you treat me. You treat me with kindness, I’ll be a friend. If not...well...you don’t want to know that outcome.
The man is annoying Lacuna. She has a strong desire to dislodge his head from his shoulders, but thinks better of it. The last thing she needs is to fight with someone backstage and then get yelled at by Angelus.
Lacuna Debris: What do you want?
Zsasz: I’m here to give you a gift...a gift from a friend.
Zsasz holds out the red velvet bag to Lacuna Debris. Lacuna is reluctant, looking at the small bag, then back at Zsasz.
Lacuna Debris: Fan mail in the post, please. By the looks of you, I can do without that as well. I’m not sure I want to be taking your gift.
Zsasz: Sure you do. The contents in this bag are special, and just for you.
Letting out a sigh, she takes the bag from Zsasz, keeping her eyes on the large man in front of her.
Zsasz: Open it and see what’s inside.
Humoring him, she opens the bag and peers inside. For a moment, she doesn’t see anything, until she sees something glistening in the bag. Her body visibly shakes with fear and anger, letting out a shaky sigh. Removing her eyes from the inside of the bag, she looks at Zsasz, her eyes blazing with fire.
Lacuna Debris: I don’t do this anymore... Kicked my habit a year ago.
Zsasz simply smiles at Lacuna Debris. Now this is where the fun begins.
Zsasz: I’m highly aware that you’ve kicked the habit, but from what I see in the ring, you performance isn’t quite up to par.
Lacuna’s eyebrows knit unto a furrow. What the hell is this dude talking about?
Lacuna Debris: The hell does my ring performance have to do with my drug addiction?
Zsasz: It has to do with everything. Your addiction empowered you in the ring, made you do whatever you wanted and it made you successful. But alas...people started to despise you for your success... The more people hated you, the more you used, alleviating the pain you felt inside. They hated the fact that you were a spoiled little rich girl, laying in a pool of money and watch daytime television.
A knot of fear forms in Lacuna’s stomach. How does he know? How can he know?
Lacuna Debris: H-how do you know all of that? You don’t even know me!
Zsasz: Let’s just say I have ways of knowing things about people, Ms. Devries. I know where to find my research and pay top dollar for it. Now you’re back in wrestling, clean and sober for a year. If you start become a success again, what makes you think people aren’t going to hate you all over again? What about Angelus? How would he feel if you became a bigger star than you? He’d loath you, have nothing to do with you and walk out on you!
Her eyes are brimming with tears now.
Lacuna Debris: No... My cousin...he loves me... He’s helping me get better...
Zsasz flashes his sick smile. Torturing Lacuna Debris was easier than he had anticipated.
Zsasz: Does he now? How do you know that? What makes you think that he actually loves you? Because he tells you so? Open your eyes, Lacuna, he hates you just like everyone else. And what good is his help to you anyhow? You’re twitchy, you have the junk itch and it looks like you’re about to commit murder if you don’t feed your addiction. Sure, you can stay clean for a year, but what’s going to happen when people start hating you again? You need something to alleviate the pain do you not?
Lacuna doesn’t say anything. Instead, her eyes go back to the drug that made her feel good for a very long time. After all the trouble she’d gotten into with her addictions, they don’t seem to matter anymore. It’s better to live pain free rather to have someone judge you.
Zsasz has won. His eyes are glinting malevolently now, realizing that he has Lacuna Debris exactly where he wants her. Temptation glints in her eyes, along with the ensuing moral struggle. Old flames reunited, but not quite jumping straight back into bed.
Zsasz: That’s a good girl, Lacuna. Embrace it, reacquaint yourself with your old friend.
He turns and leaves Lacuna Debris where she is, chuckling evilly to himself.
Lacuna Debris is still peering inside the bag, trembling with excitement, grinning at her old past. For the second time in a year, she’s at the crossroads and is torn painfully by both tracks.
Red Rock vs Garbage Bag Johnny
STIPULATION: BEST OF THREE
REFEREE: MICHAEL RYAN
AUTHORS: PIERRE HYDE, JOSH K. AND JEREMY J.
Truth Waters: Now bah gawd do we have something exciting up next for y’all! How does a Garbage Bag Johnny match sound?
George Cassidy: Trashy.
Truth Waters: Garbage Bag’s undefeated record is on the line once again. He stands at 12 wins and a draw – Ellis Nash came out on top in the Battle For Independence two weeks ago, but technically GBJ wasn’t defeated. However right now in this Best Of Three match, he could at last meet his match, in the form of...
George Cassidy: Red Rock?
Truth Waters: That’s right! The Anti Hero’s got a real win streak going – eight out of eight wins.
George Cassidy: True, but wins over Collision Course actually count negatively, don’t they?
Truth Waters: Red Rock, the diminutive Anti Hero from Aldershot, England, has not lost a match since January! Can he halt the rise of Garbage in AWC?
George Cassidy: Just in case he does, by some sort of... clerical error... they’ve thankfully made it Best Of Three so that GBJ can turn things back on course.
Ring announcer James Brunt steps into the center of the ring, and the arena lights draw the attention of the crowd to him.
James Brunt: The following is a Best Of Three match!
The fans cheer, knowing what to expect.
Truth Waters: It’s like two main events here tonight, Cassidy! There’s this hotly anticipated match-up right now, and then the Battle Royal for Transatlantic belt contendership right afterward!
George Cassidy: So we could well see both these men lose their win streaks tonight... just one a little earlier than the other.
Brown lighting converges on the stage to pick out the crouching form of Garbage Bag Johnny as the aural assault of “Garbage Bag Johnny Will Win Zero 2 Hero” begins. Throwing off a brown cloak, Johnny pursues his stooped, winding course down the ramp way.
James Brunt: Introducing first, from Urbana, Illinois, weighing in at 219 pounds... AWC’s Hero of 2006, GARBAGE BAG JOHNNY!
Garbage Bag rolls into the ring and scratches furiously at his beard as his music ends. Reuben’s “Blame Thrower”, by now firmly associated with the Aldershot man to any fan of AWC, accompanies Red Rock on his solo way out.
We all have responsibilities,
we all have a social debt
and if there is a man free of guilt,
I haven't met him yet
George Cassidy: No ridiculous sidekicks for Red Rock tonight – and not even his Relentless title belt.
Truth Waters: No, he wants to concentrate!
George Cassidy: Ironically, I think the distraction factor of having D’avid at ringside to occupy the addled mind of Garbage Bag Johnny may well have been Red Rock’s only hope of getting a result in this match. And now he’s thrown away his secret weapon before the match has even begun.
So now you’re backed in a corner,
you’re under verbal attack
they’re pointing fingers like guns in your face and
nobody’s got your back
James Brunt: And his opponent, from Aldershot, England, weighing in at 197 pounds... the AWC Relentless champion, RED ROCK!
Truth Waters: That title’s not on the line tonight, folks. Red Rock is already said to have racked up more title defenses than any other champion in AWC history – can we get that verified? No? – so it looks like Garbage Bag Johnny will have to wait until another time for his first shot at gold in AWC.
George Cassidy: Doesn’t his Zero 2 Hero trophy count?
Truth Waters: Ah, er... yeah.
Michael Ryan, who has been senior referee all the way as AWC has gone from inception to domination – his long-time friendship with David Harber no doubt a contributing factor; this also explains the head official’s presence on just the AWC-West tour – casts a quick, but anything but cursory, glance at each competitor – Red Rock moistening his lips and rubbing together the palms of his hands; Garbage Bag Johnny picking a mole on his calf. Michael Ryan tells GBJ that farmyard animals are not allowed in the ring, and with all cattle banished, it is only the small burrowing animal that needs to vacate the wrestling area before the real action can commence.
Truth Waters: That last bit didn’t really happen, did it?
George Cassidy: Huh? Garbage Bag Johnny is scratching his leg.
Ding ding ding, the bell rings, and the ally of the King engages the man from nowhere near Tring. Penchant for crap rhyme satiated, Hyde proceeds to write the match, under no illusions that it is the heat and not insanity currently causing utter garbage (~!) to spew from his two well-worn typing fingers.
Red Rock has no time for nerves to get the better of him; his palms are clammy and his wrists shaking just a little bit with the knowledge that a win in this match would surely precipitate his stepping into the big-time (and surely big-money), but that sort of thing is useless when Garbage Bag Johnny selects from his arsenal, of all things, a tie-up. Momentarily, both men realizes that GBJ doesn’t really know how to tie up, and this is why Red Rock is able to crunch his forearm into Johnny’s face and go straight into a neckbreaker.
Truth Waters: Neckbreaker! Garbage Bag looked for a fast start but it backfired on him.
George Cassidy: His lack of technical expertise a dark shadow over his shoulder there.
Red Rock immediately mounts GBJ’s body and launches punches at his head, but only one can make a rough connection before Johnny turns over the predicament and launches a copycat attack on the Relentless champion. Less elegant but more intense is Garbage Bag’s decision to attack with both arms, making the canvas close to the ropes a blur of motion as GBJ’s arms wheel round and round, blows crashing into Red Rock’s defenseless face. But the Converse-wearer from Aldershot has (probably) taken his share of street beatings before; this is obviously the reason why he is quickly able to fling his left arm up and backwards to catch the bottom rope, so often a feature of gang-favored British streets.
Truth Waters: Red Rock’s got the rope; he’s got it. Garbage Bag Johnny was delivering a savage beating right there!
George Cassidy: He’s got Red Rock’s number already. “Best Of Three” might not be the epic you’re expecting; two quick falls for the Garbage man?
Truth Waters: Red Rock was swiftly overwhelmed, but no, I don’t see that that’s gonna faze him, Cassidy. His strengths lie in working his way back from a weak position.
George Cassidy: Ah, like AWC’s relationship with parents across America after a Chainz segment.
The man who is like AWC’s relationship with parents across America after a Chainz segment now pulls himself to his feet, only to see a knee coming at him; more precisely, Garbage Bag Johnny’s knee. Quickly evading the leg by using his handhold on the top rope to pull his body in close, Red Rock sees GBJ career into the turnbuckle and swings to lay a back elbow across the side of his head.
Truth Waters: He can play it dirty too.
George Cassidy: But not as dirty as the Dirtiest Dude in AWC! It’s his gimmick!
Red Rock bends down to thrust his shoulder into Garbage Bag’s abdomen, eliciting a loud grunt.
Truth Waters: I’d guess that GBJ is a little tender around the ribs from his reaction to the shoulder charge there.
George Cassidy: Did he get hit with anything in the Independence Day match, in his ribcage?
Truth Waters: (casting his mind back) Hmm... nothing coming to me.
Red Rock straightens up and gives GBJ a flat arm across the collarbone, before pulling GBJ out of the turnbuckle and setting himself midway up.
George Cassidy: Dude... I wish I could just cast my mind back like that...
Truth Waters: It’s easy. Did your daddy never take you fishing? It’s just like casting a line.
Garbage Bag looks to grab Red Rock, but the Anti Hero fights him off and thrusts his right boot into his chest. GBJ staggers back and drops forward onto hands and knees. Always adaptable, Red Rock changes his plans to instead leap off the second rope with a leg drop.
Truth Waters: Oh! Red Rock drove Johnny’s head into the canvas there!
ONE!
TWO!
Kick out.
Truth Waters: First pin attempt gets two.
George Cassidy: No, lines were never my thing... casting or snorting.
Truth Waters: The latter might be right up Garbage Bag Johnny’s street.
George Cassidy: Excuse me! Just because he smokes pot on worldwide television, it doesn’t make him a cocaine addict too!
Both men get to their feet, Garbage Bag Johnny the more on-the-ball as he pivots and drives a kick into Red Rock’s thigh. Demobilized by this, Red Rock cannot prevent a straining side belly-to-belly suplex powering his 197 pounds down into the mat. Johnny dodges behind, and as Red Rock sits up, two gangly arms are wrapped around his throat. A moment later, Red Rock is lifted six inches or so, and then experiences a particularly unpleasant sensation that initially leads him to believe that D’avid Bulrat has turned up after all, and switched allegiances.
George Cassidy: THE RECTAL FULCRUM!
The improvisation on the dragon sleeper induces a certain amount of panic in the Relentless champion, who waves his arms and struggles in order to get free. He can’t just yet, but there is a flaw in Garbage Bag Johnny’s hold; with Red Rock balances on his knee, there is more wiggle room due to the less stable base; Red Rock can effectively rock from side to side in an effort to work his way free.
Truth Waters: Red Rock’s really reacted to this sleeper hold; it’s clear he fears the less conventional parts of GBJ’s move set!
As Red Rock does this, Garbage Bag Johnny redoubles his effort to hold Red Rock in place; this diverts his attentions from elsewhere and crucially allows the Anti Hero the chance to throw his right elbow back into Johnny’s solar plexus. The damage done, Garbage’s grip is a pale shadow of what it had been, and Red Rock throws himself forward to break the grip and escape the Rectal Fulcrum.
George Cassidy: Elbow to the ribs and Red’s got himself out of it. Still, even that short application of the Rectal Fulcrum took its toll; Red Rock is sprawled on the canvas!
Not for long. As Garbage Bag gets up, Red Rock too jumps to his feet and aims a swinging kick into GBJ’s gut. Initially surprised by it and thus unable to dodge, Johnny is nonetheless able to grab hold of Red Rock’s boot and pull it towards him, trying to unbalance the Relentless champion, looking for him to collapse in an unsightly heap. Retaining his footing, though, Red Rock attempts something that he’s probably only ever seen on TV: the Enzuigiri. It doesn’t really work, but what he does do has arguably twice its effect.
George Cassidy: REGIONS SHOT!
Truth Waters: Down like a shot! A kind of Enzuigiri kick to the crotch... was that planned, Cassidy?
George Cassidy: No chance in hell.
Red Rock too has fallen back, but Garbage Bag is clearly the worse off, clutching frantically at his equipment. Michael Ryan looks a little flustered as he bends over him; clearly the referee did not see this misdemeanor.
George Cassidy: Oh come on now! That’s an instant disqualification surely! First fall to Garbage Bag Johnny! Come on, referee!
Truth Waters: He’s not giving anything.
George Cassidy: Honestly! Why do we employ these monkeys?
Truth Waters: Well it makes for better TV! If you’re just joining us, Garbage Bag Johnny has been poleaxed by... by the Rusted Enzuigiri Of Regions Near Milan!
George Cassidy: You’re gonna have to explain that to me later...
Truth Waters: Oh, check the website.
As Red Rock massages his rectum, Garbage Bag Johnny writhes around on the mat holding his crotch. Though this is somewhat normal for Johnny, this time, he’s rolling because of the pain in his throbbing testicles. Red Rock gets to his feet and pulls Garbage Bag Johnny up by the hair, hammering fists into Johnny’s skull that Johnny doesn’t defend, still clutching his swollen groin. Red Rock batters Garbage Bag Johnny into the corner and backs off before snapping Johnny back into the turnbuckles with a back kick right into Garbage Bag Johnny’s gut. Johnny hunches over, gasping for air, and Red Rock snap suplexes him into the center of the ring.
Truth Waters: Textbook suplex there by Red Rock.
George Cassidy: Looked more like a snap suplex to me.
Garbage Bag Johnny gets to his feet just a step behind Red Rock, and Red Rock is waiting to whip him back into the turnbuckles. Johnny hits the turnbuckles, and Red Rock charges, leaping at GBJ with a spinning roundhouse kick, but GBJ ducks under it, and Red Rock lands balls first on the top turnbuckle, facing the outside. The crowd pops at the exaggerated look on Red Rock’s face, his eyes as wide as canyons and his mouth open as far as his jaw can stretch. Red Rock’s reaction is cut short, however, as GBJ nails him with a dropkick to the back that sends Red Rock’s upper body crashing forward, his head bouncing off the ring post as his limp arms wrap around it.
Truth Waters: I think Red Rock’s in La La Land, right now.
George Cassidy: Where exactly is La La Land? Josh Kalvelage in a Rastafarian Hat, Joint Blazing: Right near da beach... BOYEEEEEE!
As security removes the random audience member who jumped the rail, put on a headset, and interrupted the flow of the match, Garbage Bag Johnny starts climbing up the turnbuckle behind Red Rock. He slams Red Rock’s head against the ring post again for good measure before maneuvering himself around with one foot on the second rope and the other foot on the top of the ring post as GBJ pulls Red Rock into an upright position on the turnbuckle again. GBJ, balancing himself with his hands on Red Rock’s head shakily gets both feet on the ring post. GBJ stands up, pulling Red Rock to a standing position on the top rope while under hooking one of Red Rock’s legs.
Truth Waters: What the hell is Garbage Bag doing? This isn’t safe at all!
George Cassidy: Ah, they’re trained professionals. They know what they’re doing.
In one quick snap, GBJ pulls backwards, falling back down several feet to the outside while flipping Red Rock over with the Trash Compactor! Red Rock’s back smashes into the security fencing before both wrestlers land in a pile on the outside!
Truth Waters: Pardon my French, but holy shit!
George Cassidy: Ah, they’ll be fine. That metal fencing broke Red Rock’s fall.
Truth Waters: Or his back.
With both men down on the outside this early in the match, Josh takes a break from writing the match to get some waffles.
George Cassidy: Are those blueberry waffles?
Truth Waters: I think they are, but that syrup is about five months past its expiration date!
And after that nonsensical tangent, Garbage Bag Johnny begins to stir. He gets to his feet, walking a disoriented zigzag path towards the ring with a scooped up Red Rock before rolling Red Rock into the ring. GBJ gets in and covers Red Rock with his feet on the ropes. Michael Ryan doesn’t see it!
ONE!
TWO!
THR---
Red Rock kicks out!
Truth Waters: Red Rock is friggin’ relentless, baby!
George Cassidy: Jesus, don’t ever say something like that again.
Garbage Bag Johnny is irate! He can’t believe it as he argues with referee Michael Ryan even going so far as making the point that it would have been impossible for Red Rock to kick out after two counts with his illegal pinning maneuver. Ryan lets GBJ off with a warning, and GBJ pulls Red Rock off of the mat. Johnny whips Red Rock off of the ropes and telegraphs a clothesline. Red Rock ducks under the clothesline and bounds off of the opposite ropes, coming back and hitting GBJ with a running body press. Red Rock rolls off of GBJ immediately and both men stay down, regaining their breaths.
Truth Waters: Red Rock’s only working on instinct at this point. Everything he’s doing right now is for his own survival.
George Cassidy: I’m still going with my main man Garbage Bag in two falls.
Truth Waters: Since when are you his main man? He probably has no idea who you are.
Red Rock and Garbage Bag Johnny get back to their feet at the same time, Red Rock takes a blind swing at GBJ, but GBJ ducks the punch, straightening up right behind Red Rock. GBJ connects with a snap dragon suplex! Red Rock flops around landing on his back, and GBJ climbs the top rope!
George Cassidy: Dumpster Dive! Dumpster Dive!
GBJ leaps off and connects with the Dumpster Dive!
George Cassidy: Crap!
…but he connects with Red Rock’s raised knees! GBJ flips around like a fish, holding his gut, and Red Rock crawls towards the ropes to pull himself to his feet. Garbage Bag Johnny gets up, clutching his stomach. He nears Red Rock and then throws up an eye rake, catching the anticipatory Red Rock off guard. Red Rock holds his eyes, and GBJ scoops him up into a fireman’s carry! Truth Waters: He’s going for the Tragically Hipbuster!
Red Rock slips out, landing behind Garbage Bag Johnny.
George Cassidy: Ah, you son of a bitch! You jinxed the Garbage Bag!
Red Rock quickly wraps Garbage Bag Johnny in a sleeper hold. RDT!
George Cassidy: Look what you did!
Truth Waters: I didn’t do anything!
Red Rock covers Garbage Bag Johnny, hooking the leg.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Truth Waters: Red Rock is the first person to pin Garbage Bag Johnny down for three seconds!
George Cassidy: Yeah, but he hasn’t defeated Garbage Bag Johnny.
Truth Waters: Not yet, anyway.
George Cassidy: What, are you some kind of clairvoyant?
Truth Waters: No, I’m just saying it’s poss---
George Cassidy: Then, shut up. You’re jinxing my number one hombre.
Garbage Bag Johnny angrily gets to his feet as referee Michael Ryan restarts the match with both men in opposite corners again. GBJ, a bit groggier this time, calls for another lockup. The two men hook into a collar and elbow tie up, but this time Garbage Bag Johnny emerges the victor, using his slight size advantage to muscle Red Rock into a standing side headlock. Red Rock tries to reverse by tossing Garbage Bag Johnny off the ropes, but GBJ stands his ground until Red Rock, now against the ropes lifts Garbage Bag Johnny up and backdrops him over the top rope and to the outside!
Truth Waters: Garbage Bag Johnny’s lucky this isn’t the Battle Royal!
George Cassidy: GBJ’s going to win the Battle Royal, too. I bet you five hundred dollars.
Truth Waters: If I was a betting man, I’d take you up on that.
Garbage Bag Johnny, who may well be as relentless as Red Rock, shakes off the fall and gets up to the apron, but Red Rock is already running off the opposite ropes. Red Rock comes back and slings himself off the ropes just to the side of Johnny before taking him down off the mat again with a running flying head scissors!
Truth Waters: Beautiful move! I just about shat myself!
George Cassidy: How incredibly unpleasant!
Red Rock gets up on the outside and pulls Garbage Bag Johnny to his feet. Red Rock whips GBJ into the ring steps, and GBJ collides with them, back first, shifting into a sitting position against the steps. Red Rock then charges at GBJ and low dropkicks his head right into the ring steps!
Truth Waters: I don’t know how many screws Garbage Bag Johnny has left to get knocked loosed. That might have been the last of them.
Red Rock gets back up again, unsatisfied that the ring steps and GBJ’s head are both still in one piece apiece. Red Rock charges again, this time with a running knee lift, but GBJ ducks down, and Red Rock jams his knee into the ring steps, flipping over the steel obstacle and clutching his knee on the ground on the other side.
George Cassidy: GARBAGE BAG! HEY! GARBAGE BAG! WORK ON HIS KNEES!
Truth Waters: Sit down, Cassidy. He can’t hear you anyway.
George Cassidy: Yeah, I wish these fans would shut the hell up.
Garbage Bag Johnny gets up, shaking cobwebs out of his head. He pulls Red Rock to his feet and lifts him up for a back drop, but instead of falling backwards, GBJ spins Red Rock’s knee right into the steel ring post before letting him fall to the ground. Red Rock clutches his knee in further pain, and Garbage Bag Johnny rolls him into the ring. GBJ then stands up on the apron. Red Rock hobbles over to GBJ only to have his right hook blocked. Garbage Bag pulls on Red Rock’s caught arm, dragging Red Rock forward before GBJ drops down with a shoulder to Red Rock’s diaphragm through the ropes. Garbage Bag slingshots over with a sunset flip pin, but Red Rock rolls through, backing off against the opposite ropes and stumbling right into an airplane flip from GBJ. Red Rock rolls out of the ring and lands on the outside as GBJ gets up and waits for Red Rock to get up before leaping over the top rope with a beautiful running flip splash that sends both men down again!
George Cassidy: Truth, I think I just shat myself!
Truth Waters: So that settles it. We’ve both soiled ourselves.
George Cassidy: And admitted it on national television…
Truth Waters: International.
George Cassidy: Crap.
Garbage Bag Johnny gets up and whips Red Rock back first against the apron. Red Rock cringes in pain as GBJ charges him. Red Rock ducks at the last second, however, as GBJ leapfrogs him and lands on the apron. Red Rock turns around and sends a balled up fist desperately into Garbage Bag’s Johnnies.
Truth Waters: Work those nuts, Red Rock!
George Cassidy: No! Don’t work those nuts, Red Rock! Get off them, you homo!
Garbage Bag Johnny is in pain now after getting a low blow shot from the current Relentless champion, Red Rock. Double R goes after his opponent, but The Wolf is playing possum! He kicks Red in the gut, sets him up in a Fireman’s Carry and drops him on his side with the Tragically Hipbuster!
George Cassidy: Tragically Hipbuster! He’s going for the cover!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Truth Waters: Garbage Bag Johnny has clinched the second fall of this match-up! Good Lord, what a match!
George Cassidy: The match is tied up now, 1-1. Garbage Bag Johnny can keep his winning streak intact if he pulls off another pinfall victory over Red Rock!
Truth Waters: ...And Red Rock can keep his winning streak intact if he pulls off another pinfall victory over Garb---
George Cassidy: We both know that is not gonna happen.
Referee Michael Reid gives both Garbage Bag Johnny and Red Rock a 30-second resting period after the second pinfall had been made. The thirty seconds have passed and the match is underway once more. Both GBJ and the Relentless champion are still on the mat, exhausted and possibly have no more energy to finish up this match. Finally, the 2006 Zero 2 Hero winner gingerly gets to his feet, limping over to his opponent, grabbing a handful of hair and getting RR to his feet. He kicks The Anti Hero in the gut, sets him up over his shoulders with a Fireman’s Carry, possibly going for another Tragically Hipbuster, but Rock slips behind GBJ’s back, slaps on a quick Inverted Headlock and falls forward, drilling the back of GBJ’s head with a Diving Inverted DDT! He drapes an arm across GBJ’s chest...
ONE!
TWO!
THR---
NO! Garbage Bag Johnny shoots his right arm up!
Truth Waters: BAH GAWD! So close! Red Rock could’ve beaten Garbage Bag Johnny with that move and ended his winning streak!
George Cassidy: NO! Red Rock cannot end GBJ’s undefeated streak! Garbage is too... godly to be beaten by that, er, garbage wrestler, Red Rock!
Red Rock is on his feet now, slowly getting Garbage Bag Johnny to his feet. Before he can mount any defense, GBJ comes back to life, kicking Rock in the gut, locking in a Front Face-lock with a leg cradle, and drops backward, drilling the Relentless Champion on his head with the Trash Compactor Cradle DDT! He takes one of Double R’s arms and drags him to one of the corners. Afterwards, he picks up the limp Relentless champion, sets him up on the top turnbuckle, and slowly climbs up with RR.
Truth Waters: What does GBJ have up his proverbial sleeve?
George Cassidy: Whatever it is, Truth, it’s gonna rock hardcore! ...No pun intended.
Garbage Bag Johnny stops midway onto the middle turnbuckle, gathering Red Rock over his shoulders in a Fireman’s Carry. He then adjusts Red Rock where his head is pointing towards the mat, his head cradled in the crook of GBJ’s left arm. After making it to the top turnbuckle, with no hesitation, GBJ jumps backward, sits down and spikes Red right on top of his head! The fans are on their feet, now, amazed at what they just saw...
“HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!”
Truth Waters: OH MY GOD! A top rope Upside-Down Garbage Disposal! Red Rock’s neck has got to be broken!
George Cassidy: GBJ’s going for the cover and for the win!
ONE!
TWO!
THR---
NO! Red Rock shoots the shoulder up, and the fans explode with cheers, chanting RR’s name...
“RED ROCK! RED ROCK! RED ROCK! RED ROCK!”
George Cassidy: How in the FUCK did Red Rock kick out of that?! THAT WAS IMPOSSIBLE!
Truth Waters: Anything’s possible in the AWC, and that proved it!
Completely beside himself, Garbage Bag Johnny is arguing with the referee, telling them he picked up the three-count. This gives Red Rock an ample opportunity to capitalize on GBJ’s misfortunes. The Relentless champion is on his feet, walks over to GBJ. He drops to his knees, gives GBJ a taste of his own medicine by delivering a Gooch Rake followed by a Schoolboy Rollup... with a handful of tights, no less!
Truth Waters: GOOCH RAKE! GOOCH RAKE!
George Cassidy: REF HE’S GOT THE TIGHTS!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Truth Waters: RED ROCK WINS! RED ROCK WINS! HE HAS ENDED GARBAGE BAG JOHNNY’S UNDEFEATED STREAK!
George Cassidy: NO GODDAMMIT! GBJ GOT FUCKING SCREWED AND YOU SAW IT!
“Blame Thrower” by Reuben plays on the PA system as Red Rock lays on the mat, too exhausted to celebrate in the ring after his victory over Garbage Bag Johnny!
George Cassidy: This is highway robbery, dammit! Red Rock screwed Garbage Bag Johnny out of this match and screwed him out of thirteen-oh!
Truth Waters: So what?! Garbage Bag Johnny screws people over, and it’s time for him to have a taste of his own medicine by getting himself screwed! Red Rock relentlessly marches on – nine wins in a row! After this match, how will it affect both men as they enter the Battle Royal to crown the number one contender for the Transatlantic title belt? Are they even up to it?
George Cassidy: Oh, Garbage Bag WILL be in there; he’s gonna bounce right back from this ABOMINATION!
Truth Waters: We’ll find out because that match is next! Don’t go anywhere!
OMG Atom Bomb
FEATURING: PWC
AUTHOR: KERRY RITTER
Kris is being ‘escorted’ by Shawn Harris to the bathroom. Shawn shoves Kris into a stall and holds the door shut.
Shawn Harris: Okay, YOU are going to stay in that stall until all that piss inside you goes away.
Kris Krimzon: BUT MISTAH FISHY, IF YOU DON’T GET WATAH YOU GONN’ DIE!!
Shawn Harris: Damn it, I’m not a fucking fish! Now PISS!
Kris sighs. The fish had got the upper hand. Kris turns, sees the toilet, and leaps back, slamming into the wall.
Shawn Harris: What the hell?
Kris Krimzon: IT’S AN ATOM BOMB!!!
Shawn Harris: …Kris, that’s a toilet.
Kris Krimzon: No no… its... OH GOD! ITS AN OH-EM-GEE ATOM BOMB!
Shawn Harris: …Kris, just pee.
Kris Krimzon: ON THE ATOM BOMB?!
Shawn sighs.
Shawn Harris: Kris, the only way to de-activate the atom bomb is to pee on it.
Kris Krimzon: THEN YOU PEE ON IT, MISTAH FISHY!
Shawn Harris: Uh, I don’t have to pee.
Kris Krimzon: Oh no’s! I guess I’ll have to save the world.
Kris unzips his pants and begins to pee on the toilet (on, not in) as trumpets blare and United States citizens celebrate. Shawn opens the door as Kris zips up his pants. Kris grins.
Kris Krimzon: I savededed the world.
Kris falls flat on his face unconscious.
The Power And The Glory
FEATURING: n/a
AUTHOR: PIERRE HYDE
THE TRANSATLANTIC TITLE BELT
An image of the belt itself floats into view through the grey haze.
SINCE THE BEGINNING, AND UNTIL THE END
AWC’s first ever logo is shown, with the image then morphing between the various incarnations, through “AWC in 2006” to the new AWC-West and AWC-East designs.
AN OBJECT OF INDEFATIGABLE DESIRE
Someone fire the video guy: he’s closed in on a white packet whose label reads “Prometheus”.
SOME HONOURED ITS NAME
Pierce Lavelle delivering the Whiplash; Jack Murphy delivering a promo; Alex Strider laughing at a downed opponent.
SOME TARNISHED IT
The Serum-aided Educator crawling out of the bus wreckage at The Battle Of Britain; Adam Dick watching with gleaming eyes as the original belt is melted down to form his Transatlantic crown.
BUT THROUGHOUT IT HAS REMAINED
A shot of hundreds and hundreds of gleaming, golden belts.
THE NUMBER ONE BELT IN PRO WRESTLING
The Transatlantic title belt begins to rise up out of the pile.
NOW
Light passes across the face of the belt; it shines with brilliance.
MORE THAN EVER, THE RACE IS WIDE OPEN
Fast-changing faces flick across the screen.
EAST AND WEST THEY CRAVE IT
The screen splits in two, action from Fresh!west and Fresh!east displayed either side.
TO RISE TO GLORY...
Darcy Crisis, Mikey O’Reilly and Teresa Tomas are shown prominently.
TO RETURN TO GLORY...
Jack Murphy and Pierce Lavelle replaces them on screen.
TO SELF-GLORIFY...
An image of Vince Jones lovingly caressing his Countdown trophy.
WHO WILL RISE TO THE CHALLENGE?
AWC-West Transatlantic Belt Contendership
STIPULATION: BATTLE ROYAL
REFEREES: JOSEPH REID AND MICHAEL RYAN
AUTHOR: PIERRE HYDE
George Cassidy: I don’t even get this whole Transatlantic caboodle, Truth. You want to explain it to me?
Truth Waters: Oh come on, it’s not difficult. Sasha screwed up the admin for making Dick’s crown official, so it got set up as a separate championship – but called the Transatlantic championship, just like the one associated with the belt. So we got two Transatlantic championships; one, the crown, is Adam Dick’s; the other, the belt, will be contested by the winners of the Fresh!west and Fresh!east Battle Royal matches – the first of which we’re gonna see right now.
George Cassidy: But King Dick’s left us, Truth! What does that do for the crown?
Truth Waters: Did you not pay ANY attention whatsoever last week? They can’t vacate the title without the consent of the champion, so for now Dick remains champion... and they’re gonna try to use Garbage Bag Johnny to get him back, for one match to drop the crown or something...
George Cassidy: King Dick, do the job for “Pearl” Harber? Nuh-uh!
Truth Waters: Well, we’ll see.
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: The following is the Fresh!west Battle Royal, for the number-one contendership to the Transatlantic championship belt! Introducing first, from Kildare, Ireland, weighing in at 278 pounds... “THE BULL” JACK MURPHY!
Truth Waters: Murphy’s starting us off then. The entry order for this Battle Royal was revealed backstage earlier in the night, so there won’t be any surprises, to the wrestlers, at least.
George Cassidy: This man had so much promise... and then, he got all popular.
Truth Waters: Murphy is a former Transatlantic champion and a real ring general, but by his own admission he’s not hunting for glory so much as in the past, happy to provide a stepping-stone to the big-time for younger talent – and taking the loss against Red Rock in his return at Divide And Conquer might have crystallised his new role perfectly, Cassidy.
George Cassidy: I don’t know, Truth – we just saw Garbage Bag Johnny somehow contrive to lose to Red Rock too! You think it’s rigged or something?
Truth Waters: Of course not. Red Rock has a ton of talent and is AWC’s future.
George Cassidy: Right.
Murphy steps down from posing to the fans on the turnbuckle, letting the cheers for him die down as Survivor’s campathon “Eye Of The Tiger” begins to play.
Truth Waters: That’s the music for the new duo The Coalition, who were unlucky to lose out to the Fists earlier on.
James Brunt: Introducing, from San Diego, California, weighing in at 255 pounds... PHIL ALLEN!
Allen strides down to the ring, head held high despite the earlier loss and the sweat patches on his white tank top. He enters the ring via the steps, and stares intensely at Jack Murphy. Murphy’s age is really starting to show in his face; the loss of his beard, rather than giving him a youthful air, betrays a sudden emptiness to his features, degrading as he rides the inexorable road to middle age. Still comfortable in the wrestling ring though, as he will always be, Murphy waits patiently for the ringside officials to signal a beginning to the match. Joseph Reid has the bell rung, and a 30-second countdown immediately pops up on the screen.
Truth Waters: Next time we hear that bell will be to signal the first elimination from this match! To be eliminated each wrestler must be dumped over the top rope and both their feet must touch the floor. The quest to find a new Transatlantic belt champion begins... HERE!
Allen and Murphy lock up with force. Allen looks to push things in his direction, working his right leg forward and leaning in to power Murphy off balance, but The Bull has the technical nous to drag his left leg back, drawing Allen in, and then suddenly bring it up to knee him in the abdomen. Phil Allen’s grip slackens, and Murphy draws his right arm up before delivering a clubbing blow across the back of the neck to send Allen down to the canvas.
George Cassidy: A bit of overambition from Phil Allen. Murphy shows him who’s boss!
00:20
Murphy immediately gets down on the mat and locks Allen in a tight reverse armbar. Allen struggles hard, but is patently unable to break free.
Truth Waters: This is a statement of intent right from the beginning by Jack Murphy. If he’s gonna help the new generation work their way to the top, they’ll have to earn it the hard way!
George Cassidy: On this evidence he’s lost none of his dynamism.
”MURPHY! MURPHY! MURPHY!” The chants ring out for the former champion; there was a time when the fans would relentlessly boo anything like this from The Bull but in time he won them over and now he has fans who appreciate his technical gifts just as much as the abrupt destruction of his Bull Charge and Fall From Grace.
George Cassidy: The clock is ticking down; I think Phil Allen’s just gotta wait it out until someone new enters to disrupt this dominance of Murphy’s!
The Bull still has the armbar locked in tight, but Allen refuses to wilt, gritting his teeth and maintaining whatever defences he can. A powerful wrestler, he has plenty of expertise in the art of sticking out submission holds, so Murphy will get nothing conclusive out of this; he couldn’t anyway, seeing as the only way to eliminate a wrestler in this match is over the top rope.
”THREE! TWO! ONE!”
Truth Waters: Here we are!
BUZZ!
A melodic, beautiful sound of a pair of acoustic guitars fill the arena with music. An Italian style solo plays, then the introduction fades into hard, driving metal as 'The Enemy' by Team Cazares starts to play.
Truth Waters: Oh, bejesus...
George Cassidy: It’s Mikey O’Reilly!
James Brunt: Weighing in at 230 pounds... MIKEY O'REILLY!
Mikey O'Reilly is seen slowly making his way onto the ramp. He looks out into the crowd, feeding off the mixed reaction, and throws a few punches, as to get some more shadow boxing in before his match. O’Reilly then peers into the ring, where Murphy has turned his head to check out the new arrival. It’s all Allen needs to work an arm loose and drive it into The Bull’s solar plexus. Before Murphy can resume the lock, Allen quickly rolls away under the bottom rope and rests out on the apron.
Truth Waters: Allen quick to feed off the distraction and force his way out of the armbar before getting out of harm’s way. Good use of ring knowledge.
George Cassidy: Er, OK.
Murphy gets to his knees and then his feet, pacing the ring expectantly as O’Reilly quickens his pace. But before he reaches the steps, O’Reilly changes his plans and grabs the prone Allen on the apron, pulling him out and letting him drop roughly onto the floor. Spitting bitterly, Allen rises up to his feet and takes an opening right arm from O’Reilly, but Tha’ Fokin’ Pikey underestimates Allen, who comes straight back at him with a driving right arm.
Truth Waters: Phil Allen is still in this match; he came out under the bottom rope.
Michael Ryan closes in and tries to shepherd the brawlers into the ring, but O’Reilly shrugs him off and cracks Allen under the chin with an uppercut. The Hardman staggers back into the ringpost, but as O’Reilly steps in, comes straight out with a shoulder charge, and O’Reilly falls flat to the floor.
George Cassidy: It’s intense, it’s brutal and it’s beautiful!
Truth Waters: Jack Murphy’s getting some rest as he watches this transpire!
George Cassidy: But he won’t have much longer; the new countdown started as soon as O’Reilly was announced.
00:10
Allen rolls back into the ring, and Murphy is immediately there to grapple with him as he gets up. An Irish whip sends Allen spinning into the ropes; he comes back with pace and goes over in a Jack Murphy hiptoss. O’Reilly gets to his feet and rushes into the ring.
”THREE! TWO! ONE!”
BUZZ!
We all have responsibilities,
we all have a social debt
and if there is a man free of guilt,
I haven't met him yet
Red Rock bursts out from behind the curtain with huge amounts of energy.
So now you’re backed in a corner,
you’re under verbal attack
they’re pointing fingers like guns in your face and
nobody’s got your back
James Brunt: Weighing in at 197 pounds... RED ROCK!
Red Rock is sweaty, bruised, bandaged and shaken after a monumental Best Of Three victory by two falls to one over Garbage Bag Johnny. Yet feeding off the insanely loud cheers from the crowd, the Aldershot man can readily summon up the energy to charge into the ring and take O’Reilly out with a facebuster.
Truth Waters: Here’s the victorious Red Rock with cruel intentions on his mind! Facebuster to O’Reilly! Still doubting the Anti Hero, Cassidy?
George Cassidy: He’ll have to do a hell of a lot more to dominate this ring; it’s Murphy in control!
Murphy drops Phil Allen to the canvas with a scoop slam, and backs away – right into Red Rock. Red Rock turns around. Murphy turns around. The two come face to face.
Truth Waters: Oh... this is the first encounter between the two since the Divide And Conquer Relentless title match!
Red Rock and Jack Murphy stare intently at each other, just a couple of feet apart as they breathe hard. Then Red Rock gives just the slightest of nods, and suddenly everything whirs into motion. Red Rock’s arm is up, flying towards The Bull’s face; Murphy blocks, driving a knee into Red Rock’s ribs; Red Rock bends, clutching his ribcage with his arms, but as Murphy reaches out the Anti Hero grabs him around the waist; Red Rock looks for a belly-to-belly throw, but he can’t lift Murphy; Murphy brings a double axe-handle down on the Relentless champion’s spine; DDT from The Bull!
00:20
Truth Waters: DDT!
George Cassidy: Murphy to the fore!
Truth Waters: ALLEN TO THE FLOOR! Look at that! Mikey O’Reilly just arm-tossed an advancing Phil Allen over the ropes!
DING!
James Brunt: Phil Allen has been eliminated!
O’Reilly turns just to receive a running clothesline from Murphy!
George Cassidy: Taken down by Murphy! And Red Rock’s still down!
”THREE! TWO! ONE!”
BUZZ!
Truth Waters: It’s all getting frantic!
Hallelujah, hallelujah...
George Cassidy: FISTS!
Truth Waters: Just one, to be precise!
Liam Martin appears in the entrance-way.
James Brunt: Weighing in at 301 pounds... LIAM MARTIN!
George Cassidy: He’s had a Transatlantic title shot before, Liam Martin, in that strangely-booked Four Way Fury match that looked a hell of a lot more like a tag match on the schedule... Dick, Nash and both Fists...
Truth Waters: The Furious Fists Of God had beaten Dick two weeks running in Handicap matches but that time Dick pinned Liam to retain his title. It gave the Alliance champions a taste of a higher plane though, and they’ll both be desperate to win here tonight.
Jack Murphy frog-marches Red Rock towards the corner of the ring. Before he can set him up, though, O’Reilly takes Murphy in a waistlock from behind. Murphy drives an elbow back into O’Reilly’s face, turning to watch his fellow Irishman fall, but the damage is done; as he turns back, Red Rock springboards off the second rope and falls across The Bull in a cross body block!
Truth Waters: Springboard cross body by Red Rock!
Phil Allen, the first to have been defeated in this Battle Royal, trudges back up the entrance-way, passing without a word his opponent from earlier in the night. The younger Furious Fist now steps up onto the apron and straddles the top rope to enter.
George Cassidy: Watch out Liam there’s RED ROCK!
Red Rock leaps at Liam with a forearm smash! Still only half in the ring, the Martin brother’s momentum is reversed and he begins to tumble backwards out of the ring!
Truth Waters: Liam’s on his way!
He takes a strong hold on the middle rope as he falls, collapsing into an inverted position with one leg either side of the top rope, but both hands securing his position with the middle rope grip. Red Rock, eager to finish what he started, aims a boot alternately at each of the Fist’s fists, but as he feels his precarious grip becoming endangered, Martin wraps his legs more tightly around the top rope, crossing them over the top.
George Cassidy: Liam Martin’s secured a pretty tenuous defensive position here, but he is still in this match!
Truth Waters: I don’t know what he can do from there though...
George Cassidy: I guess the aim is to let himself down onto the apron gently, as soon as he’s given a free second, but Red Rock’s not gonna give him that!
Meanwhile across the ring from them O’Reilly throws a punch at Murphy. It connects; a second follows but is blocked and converted into an arm drag by the ring general. O’Reilly, unfazed, comes straight back up and gives him a pair of jabs to the face.
BUZZ!
Garrrbage Baaaaaaaag Johhhnnnnnnyyyyyyy...
Truth Waters: Here comes the fallen!
O’Reilly knocks Murphy down and then moves to Red Rock, spinning the Relentless champion around, unaware of his progress in being just about to eliminate one half of the Alliance champions from the contest. O’Reilly Irish-whips Red Rock to the opposite ropes and momentarily follows it up, sprinting at Red Rock with his arm outstretched for a rebound clothesline. Displaying great awareness, Red Rock ducks into the ropes, coming off them beneath O’Reilly’s arm; as Mikey O’Reilly plunges out of the ring between the top two ropes (Joseph Reid quickly signals to his refereeing partner that it is not a legal elimination), Red Rock continues his run. Liam Martin has dropped onto the apron and is just about to roll back into the ring under the bottom rope when Red Rock arrives with a momentous baseball slide!
DING!
James Brunt: Liam Martin has been eliminated!
George Cassidy: What? But that was under the bottom rope!
Truth Waters: No sir! Martin originally went out over the top rope and hadn’t quite gotten back into the ring yet!
Liam Martin gets up quickly and casts an angry glare at Michael Ryan, but before he can take it any further, Garbage Bag Johnny’s pushing past him, having for some reason chosen to enter the ring from the farthest side, carting an enormous tall and thin cardboard box with him.
James Brunt: Weighing in at 219 pounds... GARBAGE BAG JOHNNY!
George Cassidy: What the heck is that box he’s carting?
Truth Waters: There’s some writing on the side...
THE SA2EHOUSE SHELTER
This emergency Sa2ehouse Shelter is impenetrable! Recommended to ensure your personal safety from nuclear attack or battle royal elimination. Caution: stock with supplies before locking from the inside!
Flat-packed for convenient self-assembly.
P.S. Sa2ehouse is like Safehouse, but it’s the brand name, and not a typo, see?
George Cassidy: Oh, right, one of those.
Garbage Bag Johnny attempts to enter the ring, but Michael Ryan stands in his way, demanding he hand over the flat-packed fallout shelter. GBJ shrugs and does so. As Ryan turns his back to stack it against the security fence, Johnny quickly reaches under the ring and pulls out something that appears to resemble a deep-sea diver’s breathing paraphernalia, before tossing it into the ring and quickly sliding in after it.
George Cassidy: What the heck is that?
We won’t find out just yet; Jack Murphy is taking the game to Red Rock as O’Reilly unsteadily rights himself outside the ring. Murphy, relatively fresh not having had a match tonight, beats Red Rock back into a corner as GBJ attaches the contraption to his back, strapping himself in by the waist and shoulders.
Truth Waters: it looks like Garbage Bag has already come up with a novel way to bounce back after his first loss – after a phenomenal twelve-win streak, that is by far the best opening for any newcomer in AWC history, and also happens to be the lengthiest winning streak of ANY wrestler in AWC history. But we’re not entirely sure what it---
A loud expelling of air is heard, followed by a mechanical grinding and a spacey whoosh. Murphy thrust-kicks Red Rock in the trunk, causing Red to fall to a seated position in the corner, before turning to check out what’s going on. He whirls around, disoriented. He can’t see Garbage Bag Johnny anywhere.
Garbage Bag Johnny: Up here, assface!
George Cassidy: IT’S A JET PACK?!
THE J3TPACK
This classy J3tpack is incredible! Recommended to ensure your personal safety from any situation in which you might be falling to your doom (for example, battle royal matches). Can also be used for mountain exploration. With built-in heater and waste dump. Caution: be sure to recharge batteries before use!
Zero to maximum thrust in 0.3 seconds!
P.S. J3tpack is like Jetpack, but it’s the brand name, and not a typo, see?
George Cassidy: Oh, right, one of those.
Truth Waters: Ladies and gentlemen, Garbage Bag Johnny is hovering twenty feet above the ring through the use of a jet pack!
Mikey O’Reilly doesn’t care, because he doesn’t like stupid gimmicks, so he thunders into the ring and takes out the awed Jack Murphy with a back drop suplex! Meanwhile...
BUZZ!
“I Dreamed I Died” by Devildriver hits.
James Brunt: Weighing in at 328 pounds... ANGELUS SORROW!
Angelus Sorrow heads out through the curtain – and pauses. Because standing right in front of him is Liam Martin, Alliance co-champion. The Martins have the belts that Sorrow and Lacuna Debris believe they deserve. Add that to the equation that already features an aggrieved Liam Martin and a pumped-up Angelus Sorrow and you’ve got a recipe for carnage.
Truth Waters: Liam Martin and Angelus Sorrow are going at it on the stage! OOH – Martin slams Sorrow’s head into the steel piling!
George Cassidy: Back in the ring – well, GBJ’s still hovering, quite literally...
Truth Waters: He thought this through, you know – figuring he’d be pretty beat up after the match with Red Rock, Garbage Bag realised his best chance in the Battle Royal would be to play it quirky, use all his little tricks... and right now no one can touch him!
The fans are split: half, enraptured by his ingenuity, chant ”GARBAGE BAG! GARBAGE BAG!”; others disapprove of his heelish tactic of staying out of the warzone. Below him, O’Reilly is bringing Red Rock out of the corner, and now sets him over his back to bring him up for the O’Reilly Bomb!
Truth Waters: O’Reilly’s looking for something big here!
Red Rock somehow manages to tumble sideways out of the fireman’s carry, though, and via a grip on O’Reilly’s arm brings the bigger man down with him. Red Rock pulls himself free and stands, ushering O’Reilly back into the corner. He sets Mikey’s legs either side of the bottom rope...
Truth Waters: Here’s the setup for the Rusted Guns Of Milan! O’Reilly’s at Red Rock’s mercy!
George Cassidy: But Jack Murphy’s up! Murphy is poised right behind Red Rock, waiting for him to take out O’Reilly before he takes it to him!
Red Rock drives his boot deep into O’Reilly’s regions, but there’s little crowd reaction, which causes him to frown. Perhaps it’s because Mikey O’Reilly actually has a vagina? In fact, it’s because the fans are watching and waiting in anticipation of Murphy’s next move, right behind Red Rock...
Or because Garbage Bag Johnny is now harnessing the power of his jet pack to descend upon where Michael Ryan deposited his flat-packed shelter, and now, hovering a few feet from the floor, grabs hold of the cardboard and rips the box open...
Or because Liam Martin has just propelled Angelus Sorrow harshly against an enormous piece of sound equipment, causing the big man to let out a loud, defeatist grunt.
Red Rock turns...
George Cassidy: MURPHY!
Truth Waters: BULL CHARGE!
George Cassidy: Red Rock taken out!
With O’Reilly and Red Rock incapacitated, Murphy looks briefly around, probably wondering where all his other opponents are, before dragging Red Rock to his feet and pushing him against the ropes; meanwhile, GBJ is clutching an armful of equipment and flying back over to the ring before letting it drop near one corner. Garbage Bag gracefully descends, before getting to work constructing the shelter.
George Cassidy: Doesn’t he realise that he’s got two motionless opponents to take advantage of? He could have his revenge on Red Rock but no, he’s got his idea of how to win this match and he’s set on it!
Truth Waters: He is constructing that shelter at a miraculous rate...
A ramshackle-looking mini-hut begins to develop in the ring before our eyes. It looks anything but safe against nuclear attack; fortunately, Athens isn’t expecting one tonight. Across the ring, Murphy has Red Rock by the back of his jeans, bent over the top rope. Ignoring the eye-stinging pain in his vagina, Mikey O’Reilly creeps up behind and grabs The Bull by the
Truth Waters: O’Reilly wants two for the price of one here!
With one giant heave, O’Reilly pushes upwards and sends 278 pounds of Bull spinning through 197 pounds of Red Rock and to the floor. Red Rock is dogged, clinging with both hands to the top rope, looking down in horror to see his Converse shoes just inches from the floor, but he hoists his legs back up and finds a hold on the apron. Murphy has no such luck, smacking the ground with frustration.
DING!
James Brunt: Jack Murphy has been eliminated!
George Cassidy: An early exit for the former champion!
Up on the stage, the already eliminated Liam Martin is continuing his demolition job on Angelus Sorrow, hoisting in an incredible display of strength the slightly heavier man up above in a gorilla press position.
”THREE! TWO! ONE!”
BUZZ!
Engerica rock the speakers.
Truth Waters: It’s Sorrow’s partner! Lacuna Debris on her way out!
Debris rushes through the curtain and straight into a dropkick at the knees of Liam Martin. Martin buckles, crumbling to the stage floor with Sorrow’s weight impacting on top of him!
George Cassidy: Debris to the rescue!
Compulsorily, Debris now sifts through the debris to find a hand belonging to her tag partner; with plenty of difficulty she hoists the other half of The New Black to his feet and assesses his condition.
Truth Waters: I think Lacuna Debris is asking Angelus Sorrow if he’s actually fit to go on and enter this contest, after the beating he’s just received!
Sorrow nods, but his first movement is not towards the ring, but to Liam Martin. Sorrow brings the younger Fist up, and Debris snap-kicks him in the abdomen. Spluttering, Liam doubles up; Sorrow draws him in between his legs, lifts him high and turns him to the side...
George Cassidy: THE UNBELIEVER!
Truth Waters: That’s the way to do it! Sitout powerbomb with a quite literal twist! Martin slammed down onto the staging area and quite frankly I'm surprised it withstood the impact!
As O’Reilly stomps over towards Garbage Bag Johnny, Red Rock steps back into the ring, breathing heavily with the realisation of a very lucky escape. O’Reilly grabs Garbage from behind and spins him round, jabbing at the face to set into motion a complex bare-knuckle combo. Unable to block or counter, GBJ takes the blows.
George Cassidy: If there’s one thing Garbage Bag Johnny can do, Truth, it’s withstand punishment. He’s amazingly resilient.
Truth Waters: I suppose that’s what years of abuse; self-abuse and otherwise; does for ya.
O’Reilly beats GBJ back into a corner and then turns away, storming over to the partially constructed, flimsy-looking shelter. Sneering, he swings his leg at it. There is a loud clunk, and a moment later O’Reilly is hopping all over the ring, eyes popping, clutching madly at his now injured right foot.
Truth Waters: That thing’s stronger than it looks!
George Cassidy: Not even a dent in the Sa2ehouse from Mikey O’Reilly’s boot!
Red Rock spots Garbage Bag in the corner and heads over, eyes gleaming, as The New Black head down to the ring together.
Truth Waters: It’s about time for someone new...
BUZZ!
George Cassidy: What?! Neither of the last two entrants has even got in the ring yet!
“I'm A King” by T.I. starts to play.
Truth Waters: Ah! This is the music for Jose Lopez, one half of The Chosen Ones!
George Cassidy: Man. The Chosen Ones kind of suck.
Truth Waters: Give them a chance! You’ve seen them once!
James Brunt: Weighing in at 275 pounds... JOSE LO---
Brunt stops, because the hulking figure that bursts through the curtain with a steel chair in his hands is not that of Jose Lopez.
George Cassidy: THAT’S TIM MARTIN!
Truth Waters: What’s he doing? That was Lopez’s cue!
George Cassidy: He’s out to avenge his brother!
Checking his run briefly to look down at his still motionless brother, Tim Martin sprints down the rampway towards Lacuna Debris and Angelus Sorrow, both totally oblivious to his presence. Not for long. Martin swings the chair, and there is a succulent smack as it connects with the back of Sorrow’s skull. The Fist turns to Debris, but her reaction was even faster than Tim expected; one step back and a thrust kick sends the chair out of the older Martin’s hands and into his own face!
George Cassidy: Tim Martin just brained Angelus! And then got a chair to the face from Lacuna’s superkick!
Tim Martin falls back against the security fence, wiping at his face with the back of his hand – blood is running from inside his nose. Debris kneels down to turn Sorrow onto his back and check on his condition, but with revenge overriding care in her mind, it’s not long before she shoots to her feet and strides towards Tim Martin with bad intentions on her mind.
James Brunt: ---PEZ!
Jose Lopez now emerges from the ramp, looking a touch overawed as he sees the carnage before him: Liam Martin motionless on the stage; Tim Martin slumped against the barrier; Angelus Sorrow out cold. Lopez hesitates a little, but Debris goes right past him before savagely booting Tim Martin in the face. Lopez breaks into a run and slides into the ring.
George Cassidy: Sweet revenge for Lacuna!
Truth Waters: Jose Lopez now entering the ring.
Red Rock, having just grounded Garbage Bag Johnny with an extended Funstigator much to the crowd’s delight, now turns to Lopez, the only other inhabitants of the ring being Mikey O’Reilly, who is crouched in a corner seeing to his foot, and GBJ’s in-progress nuclear fallout shelter – whose legitimacy is still being questioned in a long conversation between Joseph Reid, who seems all for it and the added excitement it brings, and Michael Ryan, who’d rather figure out a way to remove it, but without having to get in the ring during such a fast-paced match. Lopez greets Red Rock with a big right hand, which is so obvious that it’s not obvious at all, and Red Rock takes it full in the face. Having only minutes ago come out on top in a gruelling Best Of Three match, the blow sends Red Rock to the mat; Lopez follows through with a leaping body splash.
Truth Waters: Lopez using his bulk to crush Red Rock’s chest cavity!
Liam Martin starts to sit up on the stage, seeing his seated brother getting the proverbial shit kicked out of him by an enraged Lacuna Debris but unable to channel the energy to do anything about it. Debris now grabs Tim’s head and drives alternate knees into it.
Truth Waters: Lacuna Debris intent on mashing up Tim Martin’s facial features!
George Cassidy: They weren’t all that to begin with.
O’Reilly gets gingerly to his feet, but is too unsteady to do anything about the clubbing blow that Jose Lopez sends his way. Ascending the nearby turnbuckle, Lopez raises his arms, trying to soak up some kind of appreciation from the fans, but to little avail. In the ring, Red Rock and GBJ have both worked their way to their feet, and exchange by coincidence the same little glance at the cocky newcomer on the turnbuckle. Without a word they head over and, grabbing one leg each, calmly eject him over the top rope. Lopez tumbles down the ring steps and lands safely, punching the side of the steps in anger.
Truth Waters: Jose Lopez, gone!
ENTER THE VIOLENCE
George Cassidy: What?! Vince Jones is coming out? But he’s Fresh!east!
Truth Waters: I guess the Countdown trophy holder’s been granted special dispensation to compete in this battle royal, considering he has been a part of the AWC-West show tonight!
DING!
As “Thug Luv” hits to announce the entrance of Countdown trophy holder “The Violence” Vince Jones, James Brunt confirms Lopez’ elimination:
James Brunt: Jose Lopez has been eliminated! Weighing in at 269 pounds... “THE VIOLENCE” VINCE JONES!
Meanwhile, Red Rock and GBJ’s impromptu alliance has come to a sticky end as Red Rock buries a fist in GBJ’s skinny abdomen. Johnny reacts by shoving Red Rock into the turnbuckle, but Red comes straight out with a clothesline. Johnny hits the mat hard, then rolls over and looks over his shoulder in horror that he might have damaged his jet pack. Crossing his fingers, Garbage Bag gets to his feet as Red Rock rebounds intentionally off the ropes to charge at the man whose win streak he ended earlier on. GBJ awaits his approach, and then at the last moment, putting his trust in the equipment he hopes is not damaged, fires up the jet pack. He shoots up into the air, laughing with glee as Red Rock meets thin air with his kitchen sink knee attack. Bewildered, Red Rock looks around and then up at GBJ – whose laughter intensifies as Mikey O’Reilly takes Red Rock into a Canadian backbreaker from behind.
Truth Waters: O’Reilly has Red Rock at his mercy! THE FALLING OF CHRIST!
George Cassidy: O’Reilly delivers! Red Rock is out for the count!
Suddenly, a click is heard. GBJ’s grin turns to a frown as he plummets from the sky.
Vince Jones stops to watch as Liam Martin, having neutralised Lacuna Debris seconds ago, now lifts her up on his shoulders and with brother Tim’s aid, slams her hard onto the ramp!
Truth Waters: DOUBLE POWERBOMB! THE FURIOUS FISTS OF GOD COULD’VE JUST BROKEN LACUNA DEBRIS IN HALF!
Jones nods in approval as the Fists congratulate each other. Then they hear a roar. BAM. Clothesline to Tim. BAM. Kick to Liam’s mid-section. BAM. Unbeliever.
George Cassidy: THE UNBELIEVER! LIAM MARTIN TAKES THE UNBELIEVER FOR THE SECOND TIME TONIGHT FROM ANGELUS SORROW!
Sorrow immediately crouches down to see to Lacuna, brushing her hair out of her white face and cupping her head in his hands. A loud ‘tut’ is heard (well, it’s a little noisy for that, but just pretend). Sorrow looks up in confusion, to see Vince Jones, arms crossed, shaking his head slowly. Rolling his eyes, Angelus goes back to easing Debris’s discomfort; The Violence tuts again. Then with a shrug of the shoulders, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you” (but in gangsta tones), Jones descends on Sorrow from behind and knocks his body forward before grabbing his ankle!
Truth Waters: NYC Crippler! Jones going for the kill from the word go! Sorrow is begging for mercy!
George Cassidy: We’ve got a real backlog of entrants waiting to actually get into that ring; it’s carnage out on the ramp!
Tim Martin gets to his feet and exchanges a word with his brother; as if having obtained his blessing, he walks casually away from the car wreck and approaches ringside. In the squared circle, Garbage Bag Johnny turns an O’Reilly Irish whip to ground the Belfast Battler with a wrap-around DDT!
George Cassidy: GBJDDT!
Jones still has Sorrow in the NYC Crippler; Sorrow is sprawled out all over Lacuna Debris, crushing the already broken Lioness beneath his heavyweight body but able to do nothing about it as The Violence cranks up the pressure. Liam Martin is white-faced and still; already having been eliminated from this Battle Royal, it is looking increasingly likely that the younger of FFGod will play no further part in the antics on the rampway.
BUZZ!
The Furious Fists Of God theme music begins to play again, and Tim Martin, standing right outside the ring, slowly smiles. Here is his cue; Joseph Reid steps aside to now allow the elder Martin into the fray.
James Brunt: Weighing in at 306 pounds... TIM MARTIN!
George Cassidy: There’s no one coming out, Truth...
Truth Waters: That’s because Tim Martin’s already out here! And now he enters the ring!
With Red Rock just coming to his senses after the devastating impact of the Falling Of Christ and O’Reilly rolling onto his front having just taken a wrap-around DDT, it is the executor of that DDT who gets the full attention of Tim Martin. Puzzling over the user manual for his Sa2ehouse, Garbage Bag Johnny doesn’t recognise Tim Martin’s approach until he is over his back in a fireman’s carry. Martin stalwartly marches Garbage Bag over to the ropes, and unceremoniously dumps him sideways over the top...
George Cassidy: Oh and GBJ’s eliminated! Just like that!
GBJ desperately works at something with his hand as he falls, and just in time, curled up into a ball to maximise the time for fire-up before his feet hit the floor, the jet pack roars to life, sending Garbage Bag Johnny up into the air and saving him from his fate!
Truth Waters: His feet didn’t touch! That jet pack has given Garbage Bag a second life in this match!
George Cassidy: Are you sure they didn’t...? We need to get another look at that!
Truth Waters: But we don’t do replays! For some reason!
George Cassidy: What are the referees saying?
Reid and Ryan are in deep consultation. Meanwhile, Garbage Bag is lowering himself into position next to his shelter, not wanting to risk his jet pack conking out mid-air again after the fall he had to take before. Tim Martin has engaged Mikey O’Reilly, and the two seem content to slug it out, Martin’s advantage in brute force equalised by O’Reilly’s superior striking technique.
Truth Waters: Garbage Bag Johnny stays in the match! He’s safe!
Knowing how he close he came to elimination, GBJ redoubles his efforts on shelter construction. Amongst the component parts he finds a bag of homophobia, which he lobs at the back of O’Reilly’s head, but Mikey neutralises the effect by actually having a vagina (anything that GBJ’s roster page says must be true) and Garbage Bag may well like lesbians.
George Cassidy: O’Reilly repels the homogay attack!
Out on the ramp, Lacuna Debris is struggling to escape from beneath the bulk of her partner Angelus Sorrow, who is still sprawled over her body trapped in Vince Jones’ ankle lock. Debris frees an arm and looks to hit out at Jones; she can’t quite reach, but The Violence, happy to cut his losses, stands and gives Sorrow’s ankle a final tweak for good measure before walking, and then running, to the ring. Inside, O’Reilly comes back off the ropes after an Irish whip to take a vicious clothesline from Tim Martin!
Truth Waters: Tim Martin almost took O’Reilly’s head clean off!
Martin now turns to deal with Garbage Bag Johnny, who is putting the final touches to his Sa2ehouse, but Tim Martin is assaulted from behind by “The Violence” Vince Jones who brings a crashing forearm into the back of his neck.
Truth Waters: The Violence finally in this ring and takin’ the fight to Martin!
”THREE! TWO! ONE!”
BUZZ!
“The World Is Not Enough”, the theme song from the Bond movie of the same name, begins to play.
George Cassidy: Isn’t this the music for a movie?
Truth Waters: That’s Wesley Reno coming out.
The politician-cum-wrestler gets little reaction from the fans as he strides briskly past the tangled tag team The New Black.
James Brunt: Weighing in at 210 pounds... WESLEY RENO!
George Cassidy: Phil Allen didn’t last long earlier on; let’s see if his partner can do any better.
Truth Waters: I would have held out more hope for Allen, considering how little wrestling training Reno’s had. Signed on promise, evidently...
George Cassidy: Or, dare I say it, for political reasons?
We cut to Garbage Bag Johnny, who is looking alternately at his instruction sheet and the almost-finished article in horror. A piece is missing. He looks around frantically, totally ignoring that he is in the middle of supposedly wrestling a Battle Royal – Vince Jones drops Red Rock to the mat with a sidewalk slam right next to him without GBJ batting an eyelid – and finally spots the offending component: a small, dirty padlock sitting carelessly adjacent to the cardboard packaging on the outside of the ring. Screwing up his eyes in hope, GBJ fires up the jet pack, successfully, and rises into the air just in time to avoid a charging Vince Jones spear of which he was completely unaware. Tim Martin takes advantage to nail Jones with a neckbreaker as Garbage Bag manoeuvres his way carefully out over ringside and begins to lower himself downwards.
Truth Waters: He’s a real expert with the jet pack...
On the ramp, Debris and Sorrow at last get to their feet – Debris brushing Sorrow’s arms away as he tries to help her – and The New Black begin to carefully, finally, approach ringside. Liam Martin, incidentally, is refusing the aid of a stretcher from the local medical team as he leans heavily on a nurse while keeping his dignity while walking to the backstage area to receive medical attention after having taken two huge Unbeliever powerbombs on the steel ramp.
Truth Waters: Liam Martin’s just taking his leave and with The New Black finally heading to the ring for the first time, having purportedly been active in this match for a good while already, the rampway is starting to clear up.
George Cassidy: Instead of commenting on the state of the Fresh!west set, Truth, wouldn’t it make more sense to inform the viewers that Tim Martin is trying to force Vince Jones out over the top rope?
Truth Waters: Ah well, er, Vince Jones is Fresh!east, so he isn’t REALLY supposed to be in this match, so I thought I’d... er...
George Cassidy: Shut up Truth.
Jones stalls for time, able from his position bent halfway over the top rope to score a few weak knees into Martin’s abdomen. The elder Fist still looks in control, though, but a stalemate is on show for now as Jones does well to keep his weight down.
Truth Waters: Doesn’t look like The Violence is going anywhere.
Meanwhile, Wesley Reno approaches the ring – but as he does so, has a change of heart, seeing Garbage Bag Johnny descending carefully towards the floor to collect the final piece of equipment for his Sa2ehouse shelter. Tucking his legs in, The Wolf licks his lips as he carefully controls the thrust of his jet pack to be sure not to touch the floor as he stretches out his arms towards the small bronze padlock he needs. Approaching quietly from behind, Reno watches with a trace of amusement, then casually reaches forward and plunges, grabbing Garbage Bag around the knees as he throws himself to the floor. Yelling out, GBJ has no time to avert the drop being so close to the floor, and cannot prevent himself tumbling to the floor with Reno.
George Cassidy: RENO’S GOT HIM! Reno got him.
Truth Waters: It’s all over for Garbage Bag Johnny! He used his jet pack to fly on out, WELL over the top rope, and now his Sa2ehouse will never be complete as Wesley Reno nets himself an elimination not even having gotten in the ring yet!
DING!
James Brunt: Garbage Bag Johnny has been eliminated!
George Cassidy: Having gone months without a loss, Garbage Bag’s now got to suck up his first two in one night!
Garbage Bag throws the jet pack furiously off his pack and lays back on the floor, breathing heavily and soaking in the feeling of losing... again.
BUZZ!
Truth Waters: Incredible! Garbage Bag Johnny, the clear favourite to win his second Transatlantic title #1 contendership to go with that for the crown, is eliminated as a result of his own self-preservation attempt that ultimately seriously backf---
George Cassidy: Shh Truth, Ellis is coming out... let’s soak it in.
Waters turns away embarrassed as George Cassidy tries to give Ellis Nash a subtle wave as she appears on the stage to the backing of Aimee Allen; Cassidy is immediately derided by the fans seated immediately behind him.
Truth Waters: Betcha glad we got us those security fences now, huh?
James Brunt: Weighing in at 126 pounds... ELLIS NASH!
George Cassidy: With Garbage Bag gone, Ellis, a former Frontier champion Truth!, has to be the favourite to win this! And she’s fresh...
Truth Waters: ...well she had a match earlier...
George Cassidy: ...a ‘match’, against Emo Kid...
Truth Waters: She’s fresh.
Nash trots gaily down to the ring, quickly intercepted by Garbage Bag Johnny who tries to hand her his jet pack. Turning him down as gracefully as possible, the Queen of AWC – or is that former, now that Dick has gone? – slides neatly into the ring and assesses her situation. It’s all very frantic in there, so it was obviously a good decision to write about Nash coming to the ring instead of the action within. The three big men, Angelus Sorrow, Tim Martin and Vince Jones, are in a three-way brawl whose punches are getting stronger and harder to the extent that large pockets are the crowd are ”OOH!”ing with every shot. Mikey O’Reilly has taken charge of Wesley Reno, battering tonight’s debutant back into a corner with stiff punches. Red Rock is in trouble at the hands of Lacuna Debris, the sprightly Lioness taking advantage of his near-exhaustion to run rings around him with a series of kicks. Oh, and the Sa2ehouse has disappeared; quite literally as GBJ hit the ‘off’ button on a remote control in his pocket. This part of the ring is where Ellis sees her calling; as friend GBJ departs dispiritedly up the ramp she speeds up to the corner, springs off the turnbuckle and takes Red Rock out for the time being with a falling neckbreaker.
George Cassidy: Ellis... leaping bulldog!
Truth Waters: Watch vinCE JONES!
Having staggered out of the front line, Jones watches Martin and Sorrow throw punches until they close in to each other right next to the ropes; seeing his chance, The Violence runs in and issues a powerful double clothesline sending both over the top.
Truth Waters: THAT’S APPROACHING 700 POUNDS OF WEIGHT FLYING OVER THE TOP THERE!
DING! DING!
James Brunt: Angelus Sorrow and Tim Martin have been eliminated!
Without a second glance at the ring action, Sorrow and Martin comma tee continue slugging it out at ringside, ignoring Joseph Reid’s remonstrations. Jones marches over to O’Reilly and turns him around, hooking him into a...
Truth Waters: SAMBO SUPLEX!
George Cassidy: Vince Jones ruling this ring!
Lacuna engages Nash with a dropkick; Nash only staggers and Debris, bringing herself straight back up, leaps into a hurricanrana. Nash manages to forward the momentum through, coming into what would be a pinning position of this match were that way arranged; it is not, and Ellis moves away immediately before fearlessly approaching Jones.
George Cassidy: Ellis reverses the hurricanrana and now she’s taking on The Violence!
In a straight put-down to the hottest PTC thread of recent times, Nash immobilises Jones with a spiked kick to the abdomen before dashing around him and flicking her left leg across the backs of his knees; The Violence tumbles backwards, cursing as he falls to the mat. Not wasting a moment, Nash throws herself into the ropes –
Truth Waters: Senton splash! In three manoeuvres Nash has completely compromised Vince Jones!
George Cassidy: About time too; this match is approaching 8,000 words!
O’Reilly grabs hold of Reno in the corner but Reno switches it around, planting O’Reilly into the corner before signalling to the crowd, and then bending to forcefully thrust his shoulder into the mid-section of Tha’ Fokin’ Pikey.
Truth Waters: That’s The Quota! That’s Wes Reno’s setup for his finisher, the Reno Readjust!
Reno sets MOR up for a suplex, and hooks the leg – but Red Rock tumbles into him, taken down by Lacuna Debris’s drop toe hold! Red and Reno collapse in a pile as Debris takes over the attack on O’Reilly, a knife-edge chop backing him against the ropes, and then grabs the top rope to hoist herself up, bouncing off the second rope to flip backwards, her legs shooting out to catch O’Reilly under the chin in a modified version of her finisher My Wings! O’Reilly is thrown back over the ropes and hits the floor!
George Cassidy: O’Reilly and out! My Wings spectacularly sending Mikey over the ropes!
DING!
James Brunt: Mikey O’Reilly has been eliminated!
Truth Waters: He went close to beating Vince Jones earlier for the Countdown trophy but he can’t make headway here! And I'm getting word that... that we’re expecting our final contestant out next!
George Cassidy: Oh man, here comes the Captain! This could be his time!
BUZZ!
See you at the crossroads, crossroads, crossroads...
But that certainly isn’t Captain Suleimon’s music.
Truth Waters: That certainly isn’t Captain Suleimon’s music.
James Brunt: Weighing in at 240 pounds... SENTICE VARGAS!
George Cassidy: Another Chosen One? Oh great. Truth, you were misinformed...
Truth Waters: No, I’ve got confirmation – Vargas is the last entrant! Look, the timer’s disappeared.
George Cassidy: But... but Captain Suleimon!
Truth Waters: Indeed... missing. And AgentDash, another notable abs---
George Cassidy: This is an outrage!
Truth Waters: Maybe he just didn’t want to enter, Cassidy! Didn’t want to risk any damage to his, er, three-nine record...
George Cassidy: Of course he would’ve wanted to enter. Institutional racism in AWC, THAT’S WHAT IT IS!
Truth Waters: Yeah, so they hired me.
Vargas enters the ring, and is immediately confronted by Vince Jones, determined to assert himself after having been embarrassed by Ellis Nash. His chauvinistic attitudes fuel his fire to great effect; Vargas manages only one mediocre block before being forced to succumb to Jones’ violent advances. A few big right hands later, Vargas is being sent overhead with a powerful T-bone suplex!
Truth Waters: VJ shatters Sentice Vargas with the T-bone.
Wesley Reno ties up with Lacuna Debris, who immediately dodges out of the grapple and sideswipes his legs. Reno stumbles back into the arms of a bemused Red Rock, who pushes him forward again; Wes Reno scrabbles to break his fall and inadvertently ends up nailing Debris with a face crusher!
George Cassidy: Not sure how much of that Reno meant but he’s taken Lacuna down!
Ellis Nash arrives with haste and drags Lacuna back to her feet, striking her across the forehead with her arm.
Truth Waters: And now she’s in trouble...
Debris stumbles blindly into the rope; Nash gives Red Rock a mock high-five and they take a boot each forcing the Lioness over the top and to ringside!
DING!
George Cassidy: Last hope extinguished for The New Black!
Truth Waters: Debris told she has no place in this ring... and I think she got the message!
James Brunt: Lacuna Debris has been eliminated!
George Cassidy: Five left here; Wes Reno, Red Rock, Vince Jones, Ellis Nash and Sentice Vargas.
Truth Waters: Are any of those genuine contenders, Cassidy?
George Cassidy: Uh, Ellis, duh.
Truth Waters: Heck yes, but what about Red Rock? He defeated GBJ...
George Cassidy: We’re not doing this again.
Truth Waters: “The Violence” has a chance too; he’s asserted himself impressively, the Countdown trophy holder. And all without his bat!
That same batless New Yorker is in the thick of it now as Wesley Reno, having been scoop slammed by Sentice Vargas, nips straight back up and slings his assailant into the ropes then ducks under his return just like Phil Allen taught him to do. This sends Vargas careering inexorably towards Vince Jones; Jones sidesteps smartly and arm tosses Vargas all the way to hell – or, at least, ringside.
George Cassidy: OH! Did you hear the noise as Ice Vargas hit the floor?!
Truth Waters: I certainly did Cassidy and it wasn’t pretty! The Chosen Ones are gonna have some issues with “The Violence” Vince Jones when this is all over! But for now we’re down to four, and this is really gettin’ hot!
DING!
James Brunt: Sentice Vargas has been eliminated!
Back on his feet, Reno watched Vargas go; a mistake as Red Rock spins him around and he and Nash, still purportedly working together, send him into the ropes with a double Irish whip. Nash scoots along behind and crouches low on one leg, shooting the other high up under Wes Reno’s chin as he turns! Reno is thrown back against the ropes and Red Rock follows up with a clothesline!
George Cassidy: Red Rock – clothesline! All the way to Reno!
Michael Stipe: You’re gonna be a star!
DING!
Nash goes from grin to grimace and grabs the back of Red Rock’s arm, trying to force him over after Reno.
Truth Waters: Ellis Nash has turned on Red Rock!
James Brunt: Wesley Reno has been eliminated!
She can’t lift him that easily, though; Red Rock struggles out of her grip and grabs Ellis’ shoulders. Before he can do anything with it, The Violence comes steaming in!
George Cassidy: Running knee from Jones catches Red Rock! Jones brings him up on his shoulders...
Jones has collected Red Rock onto his shoulders as if for a Samoan drop; the 269-pounder now turns and dumps the Relentless champion backwards over the ropes. Red Rock hits the apron and Jones turns away, thinking his work done, but Red shoots out an arm to grab the bottom rope!
Truth Waters: Red Rock’s still in this – on the apron!
George Cassidy: Ellis has it on lock!
Nash grasps the middle rope with both hands and swings her legs beneath the bottom rope. Her boots plant firmly in Red Rock’s back and shunt him safely off the apron and to the floor.
DING!
James Brunt: Red Rock has been eliminated!
Truth Waters: Our Relentless champion can withstand a hell of a lot, but he’s finally given in tonight! We got ourselves two left – Countdown trophy man Vince Jones, and Ellis Nash!
George Cassidy: Vince Jones in particular has been a star of this match. His powerful style really suits this kind of match.
Truth Waters: That might give him the edge in the closing st---
LOW BLOW AS ELLIS RISES!
George Cassidy: THAT’LL GIVE HIM AN EDGE!
Michael Ryan and Joseph Reid are able to do nothing about the misdemeanour from ringside; besides, they have their hands full with the sudden spate of eliminated wrestlers littering the floor. There are, however, no outbreaks of violence like earlier; the only outbreak of Violence is that of Vince Jones into a flurry of expletives as he gasps with pain, ghosting back into the ropes.
Truth Waters: Ellis Nash shamelessly using the oldest trick in the book to gain what might be a crucial advantage here!
Riding the isolated chants of ”EL-LIS! EL-LIS!” - neither of these wrestlers is particularly popular with your archetypal fan, but real wrestling smarks rate both Nash and Jones very highly – Nash guides Jones around so that his front is facing the turnbuckle, and side-kicks him in the lower back, throwing The Violence against the corner post. Nash then leaps up and forward, securing her arm across and under Jones’ chin, and pushing her legs off the bottom turnbuckle for added momentum...
George Cassidy: DECREE! Decree!
Truth Waters: BANG, that’s it! Ellis Nash scoring a high-angle Decree to damn near knock The Violence out! But bah gawd, she’ll have a struggle to get him over the ropes!
The audience, sensing the end is approaching fast, are all on their feet as Nash rights herself from her knees, before bending to grasp Jones under his arms. Straining her body, she slowly but surely pulls a limp Vince Jones to his feet.
George Cassidy: That’s the easy part! Go Ellis! Do it like you did Adam!
Truth Waters: ...
Perspiring freely (but she’s indifferent, remember), Nash shoves Jones out of her grip and against the ropes front-first. Nash bends low to wrap her arms around both Jones’ legs, and then with one giant heave...
George Cassidy: NO!
Jones kicks out into Nash’s chest!
Truth Waters: Fightback by Jones!
Nash loses her grip and The Violence twists around. Grabbing her by the arms, he brings her up and clasps Ellis to him, before trying to force her up and sideways, over the top rope, with a modification of a side belly-to-belly suplex!
Truth Waters: Ellis Nash over the ropes! And Jones, an East Atlantic star, is gonna win the West Battle Royal...
But as the former Frontier champion tumbles over the ropes she grabs onto anything she can, and that happens to be Jones’ neck. Her momentum carrying her downwards, she digs in her nails, doing whatever she can to cling onto survival in the match. Jones is dragged down to the top rope, his neck muscles not powerful enough to stand the weight of Ellis’ entire body, and as Nash scrambles to get her feet up onto the apron she is effectively choking Vince Jones out via the rope!
George Cassidy: By the skin of her teeth!
Truth Waters: By the length of her nails! Nash is ripping right through Jones here!
George Cassidy: The Violence can’t even take a breath, Ellis is clinging that desperately to his throat!
Finally, Ellis is able to swing her legs up onto the apron; but she’s not done yet. Propelling them upwards and putting further pressure on her hold on Jones’ throat, she thrusts both legs between the ropes and buries them in VJ’s gut.
Truth Waters: Straight dropkick through the ropes!
She then lets her legs hit the mat within the ring, and as a winded Violence collapses onto the swaying top rope, carefully slides her body through, leaps to her feet – spinning heel kick...
George Cassidy: OH HE NEARLY WENT OVER!
The heel kick to the back of the head doesn’t quite send Jones over the ropes, but followed up with a determined grip on the back of his trunks, and a firm, final flourish...
Truth Waters: BYE BYE VINCE JONES! Ellis Nash wins! Nash wins!
George Cassidy: We have our new contender!
DING! DING! DING!
James Brunt: Vince Jones has been eliminated! The winner... ELLIS NASH!
Truth Waters: She will face the winner of the East Battle Royal at Huntington Beach! Vince Jones was so close! He proved he can mix it with the best of ‘em!
George Cassidy: But in the end Ellis had what it took! Finally, surely, she will get the Transatlantic title---
Truth Waters: Title belt that is...
George Cassidy: ---that she has always, ALWAYS so richly deserved!
Nash gives James Brunt a spontaneous hug as he comes to raise her arm, elation overcoming her desire for outward indifference.
Truth Waters: That’s all we have time for! Be sure to tune in to AWC-East next week from Moscow...
George Cassidy: Actually, don’t. Just leave it fourteen days and you’ll see us again – Fresh!special, Live On Huntington Beach, Ellis freakin’ Nash – you can’t miss it.