Fresh! Results19th July 2005
An Old Past Conflicts With A New Present
FEATURING: TIM SHIPLEY AND PIERCE LAVELLE
AUTHOR: LARA CLARKE
We open inside the Tennis Country Club in San José, Costa Rica - which is holding tonight’s show of Fresh! Pierce Lavelle strides up the hall, dressed in very casual attire, his duffle bag slung over his shoulder. Fans take a second from queuing for their seats, to take a glance at the big screen which now shows a rather large image of Pierce Lavelle.
Pierce Lavelle nods to some of the backstage staff and enters his locker room, which he now shares with Tim Shipley. Tim Shipley is seated on the small pull out chair, rather uncomfortably, his wrestling gear slung over his suitcase. He doesn’t acknowledge Lavelle as he enters.
Pierce Lavelle: Tim? You alright?
Tim Shipley sits back a little and looks at his fellow partner in the face.
Tim Shipley: I’ll be fine To -
Lavelle gazes at Shipley, who freezes on the ‘To’ and looks away. An uncomfortable silence fills the room as Lavelle throws his duffle bag onto the floor and pulls out his royal blue tights.
Tim Shipley: I’m sorry … I didn’t mean to, erm, well you know.
Pierce Lavelle: Yeah, I know.
Lavelle does not dwell further on his answer and begins to strip down into his boxers, as he begins to change into his ring-attire.
Pierce Lavelle: So, you have some pre-match nerves?
Shipley doesn’t answer, but nods.
Pierce Lavelle: I know the feeling. On my very first show here in the AWC, I was entered into the Zero to Hero tournament. I went through three matches, in one night. Granted I didn’t win the third, but that was the first time I had ever wrestled in an arena filled with people. You should know that no matter what you feel now before the match, the nerves soon leave once you get past the black curtains and walk out into the bright lights and screaming fans.
Lavelle is now standing before the camera, dressed in his blue tights and black wrestling boots. Tim Shipley, on the other hand, has yet to change into his attire.
Pierce Lavelle: If you don’t feel like doing this match, then walk. Nobody is rushing you, Tim.
Shipley is now looking blankly at the television monitor. Pierce sits back down and straps on his black knee pads.
Tim Shipley: I‘m fine, Pierce. I‘ll - I‘ll be fine for the match.
Pierce Lavelle: That’s good to know. Besides, you know more about this type of wrestling, than I do. You were the great Tim Shipley from Core.
Shipley blushes a little and begins to pull out his wrestling attire.
Tim Shipley: Yeah, Tony and I worked well together.
Lavelle looks up from strapping on his knee pads and gazes at Shipley, starting to become a little impatient with his behaviour.
Pierce Lavelle: I’m not Tony, Tim. He’s gone … I’m really sorry for your loss, but I cannot replace him … I won’t try to, but I don’t like this negativity towards me because I’m not him.
Shipley frowns and stands up and walks into the dressing room. Lavelle looks away, obviously annoyed, and flicks on the TV. Shipley emerges from behind the dressing room, now fully clothed in his ring attire. Lavelle glances at Shipley and looks away.
Tim Shipley: I‘m sorry, Pierce. We‘re not The Pioneers, I know that. We‘re The Academy and tonight we can start to create our own legacy.
Lavelle smiles and switches off the TV.
Pierce Lavelle: Glad to hear it!
Shipley is seated on the small blue chair, and begins strapping on his own knee pads. Lavelle stands up and pulls out his mobile.
Pierce Lavelle: I have some business to take care of. I need to contact someone. I’ll be right back.
Shipley just waves his hand in approval and Lavelle leaves the room.
Introduction
FEATURING: TIM SHIPLEY
AUTHOR: PIERRE HYDE
The screen goes to black then fizzles to life suddenly, the letters “AWC” flashing across in a brilliant white light. A moment of silence dominates, then, backed by “Way Away” by Yellowcard, images of AWC’s superstars appear, one after the other. The guitar plays softly first, then goes straight into a strong, powerful riff.
I think I’m breaking out
I’m gonna leave you now
There’s nothing for me here
It’s all the same
The new Transatlantic Champion Pierce Lavelle is shown collapsing into the arms of Senior Referee Michael Ryan as he is handed the title following the Inferno match at Solarized. A pulsating white light continually lights up the screen, as shots of many AWC superstars in action are shown: The Educator, Ellis Nash, Drake Coleman.
And even though I know
That everything might go
Go downhill from here
I’m not afraid
A quick collection of highlights from recent shows flash across the screen as the song moves into its chorus. Gabriel hitting Satan’s Wish on The Farmer last week; Krimzon jumping ladders and inadvertently crushing his partner The Educator between a ladder and a table, the table breaking, at Solarized; UWF North American champion James Varga emerging from the entrance-way seven days ago on Fresh!.
Way away, away from here I’ll be
Away, away, away, so you can see
How it feels to be alone and not believe
Feels to be alone and not believe
Anything
Truth Waters: We’ve live, live, LIVE from San Jose, Costa Rica! This, my friends, is Fresh!
George Cassidy: The pyrotechnics are exploding behind us, the fans are shouting at the top of their voices just to get the chance to be on television, and we’ve got a whole host of potentially awesome matches lined up for tonight!
Truth Waters: That’s right, Cassidy. In total, there are seven matches tonight on Fresh! That’s more than ever before. The fans wanted more; we have delivered. We’ll be kicking off with the unorthodox duo Rainbow Flag taking on Kris Krimzon and Jonny Sake in tag action!
George Cassidy: We’ll be following that up with a number of singles matches showcasing the new talent in AWC, as well as some oldies. Erm, Pact.
Truth Waters: Stars such as the Illustrious Face-Eater, Jack Moses, Andy Murray, Amy Silveira and Mike Wade will be trying to impress tonight in their debut matches! It’s bound to be a good show.
George Cassidy: Let’s get straight down to the action before Truth shares some of his favourite ways to shave his underarm hair with us. Come on, it’s definitely something he has regular conversations about!
Truth Waters: Hey! I’ll have you know my underarm hair is shaved every… oh, never mind.
Mission: Impossible
FEATURING: DAVID "PEARL" HARBER, KRIS KRIMZON
AUTHOR: PIERRE HYDE
David “Pearl” Harber is walking down a nondescript backstage corridor, whistling an unidentifiable tune as he passes a door reading “LAVELLE/SHIPLEY”. A little further down the corridor, another door opens and Kris Krimzon exits, looking furtively around, perhaps in order to avoid Jonny Sake, who turned on him in their match earlier tonight. Harber stops and looks at him.
Pearl: Kris, I was looking for you.
Krimzon leaps out of his skin.
Kris Krimzon: Who’s that?
Pearl: Kris... I’m right here.
Having exhausted every other possible square inch of space in the corridor, Krimzon’s eyes finally spot Harber, who is now standing all of three feet away from him.
Kris Krimzon: (whispering) Pearl! Did you hear that? Someone just said something!
Pearl: Kris, that was me.
Krimzon stares at him.
Kris Krimzon: It was? You had better not be kidding me –
Pearl: Look, Kris, I don’t have time to waste.
Kris Krimzon: I’ll be going then –
Pearl: No, I’ve got something I need you to do.
Krimzon’s eyes light up, anticipation fuelling him.
Kris Krimzon: A mission?
Pearl smiles.
Pearl: Of sorts. What do you know about the Livewire and Frontier title belts?
Krimzon grins.
Kris Krimzon: They’re made of plutonium.
Harber, dumbfounded, shakes his head. How could he have employed someone this stupid?
Pearl: No, Kris, that’s not it. What’s happened to them both recently?
Kris Krimzon: They –
Deciding against waiting for another idiotic answer, Pearl just tells him.
Pearl: They’ve both been stolen by The Educator, your former partner in Krimzon Karnage Inc..
Kris Krimzon: Yeah, that too, but –
Pearl: Never mind the ‘but’. Your mission, Kris, if you choose to accept it – in fact, no, it isn’t optional, you’re under contract – is to get me those belts back.
Kris Krimzon: Huh?
Pearl sighs.
Pearl: Just get me those belts, OK? I have no clue what’s going on with you and him and Sake, but just work out a way. No one else is gonna be able to do it, he’s too careful. I need those belts back.
Krimzon, looking more serious now, shakes his head. There is no way The Educator is even going to let him near those belts...
Kris Krimzon: But... why? I mean – why should I do it?
Pearl: You want an incentive? You’ve got it. I’ll give you two weeks. If you get me both those title belts back by the end of the August 2nd Fresh! show, I’ll give you...
The Entertainment Manager pauses, assessing the fool standing in front of him.
Pearl: A Transatlantic title shot.
Krimzon’s face falls.
Kris Krimzon: Oh. Fine, then...
Ignoring this unexpected reaction, Harber walks off, then turns his head back as he remembers something.
Pearl: Oh, and get your nose checked out, will you?
Kris Krimzon: My nose hurts.
Pearl: Well, yeah...
A frustrated exhalation of air, and off he goes.
Defiance
FEATURING: THE EDUCATOR
AUTHOR: LEON CRUISEY
Just as Pearl walks off, the camera focuses on a screen looking in at the events that have just happened. The camera begins to pull back and the figure of The Educator is revealed, watching a monitor. He rubs his hands together and places them against his chin in thought. He quickly takes off his glasses and brandishes a handkerchief to clean them with, whilst still looking at the monitor.
The Educator: So that's Harber's plan is it? He thinks that by using that moron, he can take away MY belts? The belts that I earned!
The Educator gets up and walks over towards the back of the dressing room. The image of the Frontier and Livewire belts hung up on one of the wardrobes is revealed as The Educator gets down on his knees.
The Educator: Nobody will take away my belts, nobody!
The Educator bows his head as if weeping before getting up again. He starts to pace back and forth in the dressing room, occasionally stopping as if thinking of something.
The Educator: I'm far too important to have to take care of Mr. Krimzon myself. But the fact remains that I need him out of my clean and pristine hair.
The Educator runs his hand through his hair as if to check that it is indeed, still pristine.
The Educator: But who else could I use?
Rainbow Flag vs Kris Krimzon/Jonny Sake
STIPULATION: TAG TEAM MATCH
REFEREE: LARS LARSSON
AUTHOR: PIERRE HYDE (ENDING BY JAMES JOHNSON)
“That’s The Way Love Goes” by Janet Jackson begins to play, to immediate catcalls from the crowd.
George Cassidy: What the hell is this?
Truth Waters: I think I can guess...
James Brunt: The following is a Duo Tag match. Introducing first, both from Leetown, Missouri... Sam and Pat, RAINBOW FLAG!
George Cassidy: Don’t they weigh anything, then?
But before Cassidy’s derogatory comments can go any further, out from the curtain come one white man – Sam – and one black man – Pat – who are holding hands. An immediate cascade of boos washes down on the approaching duo from this intolerant Costa Rican crowd.
Truth Waters: Oh, that’s just wrong...
George Cassidy: Oh come on, Truth, don’t live in the past.
Waters stares at his co-commentator.
Truth Waters: I was talking about the fans!
Rainbow Flag stare defiantly out at the crowd, and Pat suddenly swoops on his partner (in more than one sense of the word) and kisses him full on the lips. This only serves to antagonise the crowd more. Cans begins to be thrown.
Truth Waters: I cannot think of a worse place for these two to debut... the fans here in San José just do not seem to understand homosexuality.
George Cassidy: I’m reeling. Really. You have the reputation as quite the homophobe, Truth.
Truth Waters: Come on, Cassidy. Neon saw I was strong-minded and wanted to exploit it. The Neon Wrestling Truth Waters was just a character... just a role I was playing. I have nothing against people who decide to spend their lives with others of the same sex... just as I have nothing against people with a different colour of skin, or no penis.
George Cassidy: You have to say, though, Rainbow Flag are inciting the crowd.
Pat gasps as a cup of liquid is thrown over his bare back. Sam tries to drag him onward, but Pat scrambles to shove the front-row fan in the chest, sending a couple of chairs flying and angering the fans further, who vigorously defend their own. Chants of ”HOMO! HOMO!” begin.
Truth Waters: Can we just... not have this match, please?
George Cassidy: The thing is, Sam and Pat just seem like average guys. Look at them – what they’re wearing, their build, how they’re acting. It all just screams out “average”. But here, where homophobia is deeply-rooted in many of these fans... just that one thing about them is causing the fans to hate them, and them, therefore to hate the fans.
Truth Waters: This is sad to watch.
George Cassidy: AWC got it wrong introducing these two tonight.
Rainbow Flag finally reach the ring, and Janet Jackson’s – um – dulcet tones cut out, replaced by the – um – crap that is “Ohio Is For Lovers” by Hawthorne Heights.
James Brunt: And their opponents, from St. Louis, Missouri and Manhattan, New York respectively, at a combined weight of 576 pounds... KRIS KRIMZON and JONNY SAKE!
Minority cheers are the only reaction to the entrance of The Big Daddy and his mentor.
Truth Waters: There’s been some friction between these two in recent weeks...
George Cassidy: Sake didn’t even get a look in on their tag match last week, when Krimzon insisted on staying in the ring the whole time – and he lost!
Truth Waters: Sake sure looked unhappy about that, and with The Educator planting words of venom in his head, I wouldn’t be altogether surprised to see more problems between Sake and Krimzon tonight.
The referee for this match, Lars Larsson, forcefully separates the competitors. Sake steps into the centre of the ring and stares at Krimzon, as if daring him to question his right to start the match off. Krimzon shrugs and exits the ring.
George Cassidy: Starting off this match will be Jonny Sake and Pat.
The bell rings, and immediately the 7’2” Sake grabs Pat by the throat with two hands and throws him sideways towards the corner. Pat lands on his knees and gets right back up but Sake is there with a raised boot to the face. A stunned Pat crashes back into the corner.
Truth Waters: Sake is using his size to his advantage.
Sake runs into Pat with a left-arm clothesline from only a short distance, but Pat still feels the 346-pounder crash into his torso. The Big Daddy Irish-whips Pat to the opposite turnbuckle; Pat rams straight into it without turning, and now stumbles backwards with the impact. Giving him a long, hard glare first, Sake tags in Kris Krimzon.
Truth Waters: The teamwork does appear to be there tonight.
Krimzon runs at Pat just as he turns round, and hits a swinging neckbreaker. Pat sits up after the impact, and Krimzon nails him in the back of the head with a quick dropkick. He now hits the ropes and flips himself over into a senton splash, before making the cover.
Truth Waters: Quick work and good agility by Kris Krimzon.
George Cassidy: Now he looks for the pin.
ONE!
TWO!
Pat kicks out.
George Cassidy: Kickout by one half of Rainbow Flag.
Not losing his focus, Krimzon brings Pat to his feet and chops him hard in the chest. While the sound is loud, the impact is not quite what Krimzon hoped, and Pat profits from another knife-edge attempt by his opponent as he grabs the arm and moves into a Japanese armdrag. Continuing his hold on Krimzon’s right arm, he hits a leg drop either side of the shoulder joint and goes straight into an armbar.
George Cassidy: Armbar locked on by Pat!
Truth Waters: Finally, he gets on the offensive, with a punishing hold.
Krimzon yells in pain as Pat, showing off his amateur background, positions his body for the maximum angle on the joint.
Truth Waters: He’s really wrenching away at Krimzon’s shoulder.
Heavy booing is issued by the fans, seeing a man they unfairly despise keeping down a firm-rooted fan favourite.
George Cassidy: Can Krimzon hold on?
Krimzon lets out a shriek.
George Cassidy: Somehow, I doubt it –
Truth Waters: Here comes Jonny Sake!
Sake bundles his way into the ring, determined to impose himself. Lars Larsson gets in his way, though – not scared of The Big Daddy, he shoves him towards his corner. Sake’s eyes open wide as he stares at the referee.
Truth Waters: Larsson may be in a spot of bother here.
Pat now rolls away from Krimzon and runs at Sake, kneeing him in the gut. However, this does not appear to have an effect – Jonny Sake simply swipes him across the face, and to cheering from the crowd, Pat falls away. Sam launches himself into the ring, hurtling in at speed with a clothesline across the breastbone (this being as high on Sake’s body as he can reach) – no effect. With a roar, Sake slams a forearm across the top of Sam’s head, and Sam crumples.
Truth Waters: Jonny Sake destroying all comers!
Larsson makes one more effort to eject Sake from the ring, and Sake grabs him by the throat with one hand, lifting him high.
Truth Waters: No!
George Cassidy: He can’t do that! He’ll get himself fired!
Truth Waters: I’m more worried about what he’ll do to Lars Larsson – OH!
Sake completes a powerful choke slam. The referee lies prone, totally out of it.
George Cassidy: Can’t somebody stop this, and disqualify him, or something?
Sake now bends down and helps his partner up, to cheering from the fans in the Tennis Country Club. Krimzon has his back turned to Sake, and while his back is turned Jonny Sake bounces off the ropes and big-boots Krimzon in the back of the head.
Truth Waters: What?!
George Cassidy: Sake just turned on his partner and – COUGH – mentor!
Truth Waters: A dangerous big boot to the back of Krimzon’s head. I think he knocked him clean out, but why would he do this?
George Cassidy: Wouldn’t you? It’s KRIS KRIMZON!
Jonny Sake falls to the floor, pretending that the clearly-knocked-out Pat, who is laying in front of him, attacked him. Spitting blood and barely moving, Krimzon manages to pull himself to his feet using the ropes.
Truth Waters: Why Is he pretending that Pat attacked him? He clearly attacked Krimzon.
George Cassidy: Maybe because he wanted a cheap shot... well, duh.
Truth Waters: Why would Sake, the gentle giant, do that to his own partner? I just can’t believe it.
Krimzon runs over to Sake to help him to his feet, clearly clueless of what has just happened. Krimzon wipes off the front of Sake’s torso, while Sake tries to shake him off of his front.
Truth Waters: Krimzon is wiping him down like his mommy used to do when he got out of the bath.
George Cassidy: I don’t think you’d be saying that about either man if they were stood here.
Truth Waters: I God-damn well would!
Sake and Krimzon pick up Pat from the mat, and get him upon the top rope, and go for a double superplex.
George Cassidy: With Lars Larsson laid out, and Krimzon unaware of Sake’s treachery, they attack together.
But as they go for the slam, Jonny Sake kicks Krimzon in the chest and slams him to the mat. He picks Krimzon up off of the floor and slams him to the floor for his finisher!
Truth Waters:FOR’SAKE’N!
George Cassidy:Wow! Jonny is really getting payback on Krimzon.
Sake grabs Pat and lays him on top of Kris Krimzon.
Truth Waters: Now we just need a referee to top it all off.
Miraculously, down the ramp comes Senior Referee Michael Ryan; he slides into the ring and goes for the count.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
George Cassidy: Krimzon is down for the count, and Rainbow Flag pick up the victory. Surprisingly this loss was due to Jonny Sake; I think he finally built up the nerve to take his aggressions out on Kris Krimzon. Who by the looks of it clearly deserved them...
Krimzon shoves Pat off of his body and clambers to his feet, staggering heavily from that brutal For’Sake’n, and looks at Jonny Sake, in a compassionate kind of way.
Truth Waters: How can he not be in a bad mood with Jonny Sake?! He just turned on him and hit his devastating finisher, the For’Sake’n!
Kris Extends his hand to Jonny Sake and nods his head toward his hand.
Mentor vs Mentee
FEATURING: JONNY SAKE, KRIS KRIMZON AND THE EDUCATOR
AUTHOR: ALAN IVERSEN
The scene sets on Kris Krimzon and Jonny Sake stood in the ring, both men are sweaty and have crimson faces, with blood trickling down like a spring filled with blood. Krimzon has an extended hand, waiting for a handshake off Jonny Sake. The match that had just taken place was a lot of work for both men, even though Jonny did not get much action.
Krimzon is nodding his head, in hopes that Jonny will accept his hand gestured apology for what has happened and set their relationship straight.
Kris Krimzon: C’mon Jonny, lets make a clean slate, a fresh start, a new glass of WOMBAT JUICE. I know why you did what you did, and I understand.
Jonny stands glaring at the sweaty palm of Kris, he cannot decide whether to go with his gut and take him down, or be the new Jonny Sake, the one that accepts mistakes and lets bygones be bygones.
Truth Waters: Do you think he’ll go for it?
George Cassidy: I just cant see why Kris wants to, the man just FOR’SAKE’N-ed him.
Jonny extends his hand, and makes it to about half an inch away from Kris’s hand, and then he brings his hand up into the air above Kris’s hand and bend his elbow to bring his arm back to his sweaty body. Jonny scans Kris’s hand, and turns to go out of the ring.
Truth Waters: I wonder why he is leaving, does he not want a clean slate with Kris.
George Cassidy: I think it should be Krimzon leaving, for ever.
Jonny lifts his leg over the top rope, and is getting ready to swing his other leg over when Kris comes over, with his hand still out, tapping Jonny on the shoulder and pointing at his hand.
George Cassidy: I think Kris really wants to start over, and make friends.
Truth Waters: I don’t think they should, like you’ve been saying George, Kris just got beaten and forced to lose by Jonny, the bastard got his revenge and cost himself a loss, and it will be a bigger loss if he does not accept this hand gesture.
Jonny Steps over and looks at Krimson’s hand again, this time the bloodthirsty look on his face has gone and he looks human again. Jonny extends his hand to shake with Kris, when suddenly he forms a fist and punches Kris right in the Jaw. Kris goes down and immediately Jonny leans over him and starts punching him in the face. He then brings him up on his knees, bounces back off the ropes and kicks Kris straight across the jaw.
Truth Waters: Will Jonny’s Brutal assault never end.
George Cassidy:I don’t know, but I guess the handshake is a no go.
Jonny Kicks Krimzon in the face again and takes him back to the floor.
Truth Waters:Its like an unscheduled match, Mentor Vs. Mentee.
Jonny leans over Kris pummeling him in the face, and kneeing him in his genitals. The members of the audience begin to look towards the entrance way in hope that someone will come out and stop this assualt on Kris Krimzon.
Then, it happens.
"School Of Hard Knocks" by POD begins to blare out over the PA system and all the crowd can do is groan in unison as the 6'4" figure of The Educator makes his way from out the back. He's got the Frontier and Livewire titles over each one of his shoulders and a big smile etched across his face. As he walks towards the ring where Jonny is still pummeling Kris Krimzon, boo's greet his entrance as he applauds and claps what he's seeing in the middle of the ring.
The Educator grabs a microphone before making his way into the ring. Jonny gets up and The Educator puts his hand on Jonny's chest, stopping any further assualt. For a fleeting moment it looks as though The Educator has come to stop Jonny, but that ideas immediately shot down as The Educator begins to put the boots into Krimzon's chest. The Educator bows down, grabs Krimzon's head and talks into the microphone.
The Educator: It's one thing to hold me back Mr. Krimzon. But to actually become Mr. Harber's own personal lap dog? That's just embarassing. So I'm here to make sure you hear this message loud and clear. Stay away from my belts, the belts that I, and I alone, EARNED! Neither you, or Mr. Harber can take them away from me, understand!?
Then with added venom, The Educator once again kicks Krimzon in the head, throwing the microphone down on Krimzon's prone body.
The Educator and Jonny Sake join arms and lift them up to all corners of the arena, to a chorus of boo's from the crowd as School Of Hard Knocks play's out once again.
A Family Affair
FEATURING: AMY SILVEIRA, HUGO SILVEIRA AND CATARINA SILVEIRA
AUTHOR: DAVID "DJ" HEDLEY
The scene opens in a fairly normal-looking dressing room, apparently belonging to the new AWC wrestler Amy Silveira. The contents of the room are fairly low; a sort of metal wardrobe, looking like a school locker, a bed and some chairs scattered around for use of the four persons present. One of them is Amy, sitting near to the wardrobe in fairly casual clothing - a t-shirt and pair of fairly normal looking jeans - her father, who is standing near to the door in neat attire, along with two girls, one presumably her sister Catarina due to her similar, but not identical appearance. Amy is looking a little nervous, but seems fairly normal, not letting it show as much as it would maybe be expected for someone making their in-ring debut within the next hour. Her father, facing the door, turns around to face his daughters, and smiles before asking a fairly rhetorical question.
Hugo Silveira: So.. are you ready?
Amy looks up, from her position looking at the floor, revealing her slightly made-up face, no doubt designed to help her visual appeal upon her debut. She smiles slightly, and although it looks a little forced, Hugo fails to notice.
Hugo Silveira: I take that as a yes, then? ......Good, good.
The room is plunged into silence for a few moments, Catarina standing up and looking inside the rather crude locker. She looks a lot like her sister, although appears to be slightly taller, with a slightly more tanned appearance, and blonde highlights in her otherwise dark brown hair. As she flicks through the clothes in the cupboard, Amy looks up again.
Catarina Silveira: So, what are you wearing to the ring? Got to look good for all those lads out there…
Amy Silveira: I dunno, I think I'll just wear a decent pair of jeans and a white top, seeing as I don't intend going to the ring looking like Aimz, or some other done up tart.
Catarina Silveira: Hey, theres nothing wrong with that…
Amy Silveira: For you, yeah.. But I'm not like you…
Catarina Silveira: I noticed.
The slight hostility between the girls is clear. The other girl, who looks American and has the lack of a tan like the Silveira sisters, sits on the bed watching their conversation. Hugo looks at his watch, and upon seeing the time, reacts quickly and speaks.
Hugo Silveira: Ok, darling, I think we'd better get a move on, because the second match is pretty much starting off now. You need to get changed, we need to make sure your ready, rehearse the entrance, and…
The other girl interrupts Hugo.
Other Girl: Mr. Silveira.. She'll be ok.
Amy Silveira: Thanks Carly…
Hugo Silveira: Bu…
Amy looks to her dad, interrupting him.
Amy Silveira: Dad, she’s right. We've gone over it all already - try chilling out for once, yeah?
Hugo forfeits the argument, smiling as he had tended to be doing everytime he addressed Amy thus far.
Hugo Silveira: Ok, just don't let the leprechaun hurt you, yeah?
Amy Silveira: Of course.
Amy smiles, standing up and re-opening the locker, taking out a pair of tight-looking but slightly suitable decorated jeans.
The Decision
FEATURING: JAMES BRUNT
AUTHOR: PIERRE HYDE
George Cassidy: We’re just going to take a short detour to the ring, where we hear James Brunt has an announcement to make.
The ring announcer steps into the ring, tonight’s sparkly suit reflecting light in all directions as the crowd hushes somewhat, awaiting what they assume will be the introduction of the next match.
James Brunt: Ladies and gentlemen, we have come to a decision regarding the actions of Jonny Sake earlier in the night!
Truth Waters: Ah...
James Brunt: Sake performed a brutal attack on an AWC referee, and as such, will be receiving a formal, written warning from our Entertainment Manager David Harber. He should know that were such a breach of conduct to occur again, his contract would be terminated without negotiation.
There are some mild boos from the crowd, who appreciated Sake’s choke slam on the interfering referee Lars Larsson, but most still haven’t decided what to make of Sake after he turned on the adored Kris Krimzon.
James Brunt: The match itself has been awarded to Rainbow Fag – Flag –
Brunt’s inadvertent slip causes no end of jeers and hoots from the rowdy fans.
James Brunt: – as a result of Sake being disqualified.
Truth Waters: That is fair enough.
George Cassidy: Certainly.
Brunt pauses, awaiting his next cue, which comes quickly.
The Illustrious Face-Eater vs Void
STIPULATION: SINGLES
REFEREE: AARON DAVIES
AUTHOR: JASON CHAE
Truth Waters:: I guess we’re just waiting for our first competitor. This next match is a singles match and is-
Once again, Truth is interrupted by the familiar presence of darkness as the arena lights dim to a cold position. George Cassidy: holds his thighs a little bit tighter in the grips of his palms. While the fans get a little antsy in their seat, in preparation of the next match, their woes are met with the sound of a voice that made an echo throughout the entire building.
Voiceover:: FOR CENTURIES MAN HAS BEEN PLAGUED BY CRAPPY FOOD!
On the screen, a montage is shown of a child eating Fast-Food Chicken Nuggets, dipping them in brand McCompost Sauce ™, before shoving them down his stomach.
Voiceover:: In a time where Oprah’s waistline is less than that of a rhino… A time where Dr. Phil hammers so many Low-Carb diet techniques in to your brain, that if they were nails you’d make Pin-Head from Hellraiser jealous! A time where processed meats and re-heated meals are as mediocre as a promo by Ellis Nash…
The screen fills with a person holding a picture close; a picture of Ellis Nash’s face. The hands then crumple the photo, and shove it in his mouth.
Voiceover:: There are only so many episodes of “30-Minute Meals” on in one day, and lord knows that Rachel Ray cannot save us herself. And fuck Ina Garten, she is neither Barefoot nor is her name Contessa! THAT FAT BITCH CAN GO TO HELL!
The fans become confused at the voice’s anger. Was he really getting upset over Food Network (aka the GREATEST channel ever)?
Voiceover:: Ahem, anyways, in a time where crappy eating habits plague our daily lives almost as much as the insecure Alex Stridder plague’s himself with lackluster accomplishments, there is a small group of people… who strive to survive.
On the screen, a solid graphic outlying the entire United States of America is shown. The screen zooms in on the country, focusing in on… Indiana.
Voiceover:: In the vast American Rain-forests of the Mid-West, there is a tribe of jungle-dwellers who find their nutrients through the form of a rare delicacy. They reside in the village of Gary, and are very respectful in their customs.
Again, the screen changes to a street-corner in Gary, Indiana, where a man dressed in a purple zuit-suit is vigorously shaking an Asian woman with one-arm.
Pimp: Bitch I done tell ya thrice! Now I’mma take that fat-ass you call a tri-pod, marinade ya head in some teriyaki, and I’mma EAT YO’ FACE!
The pimp grabs the Asian woman by her only arm, dragging her kicking and screaming in to the nearest building, labeled as a soup kitchen. Her fate, while somewhat puzzling, is very apparent.
Truth Waters:: Did that hooker have only one arm?
George Cassidy:: That’s my kind’a hooker!
Truth Waters:: You have to wonder what she actually did to lose her arm.
George Cassidy:: And now she’s going to be missing a face!
The screen flashes and shows another scene, a decrepit playground surrounded by weeds, deserted.
Voiceover:: In this wasteland of a town, the villagers act savagely and find the only raw source of nutrients they can in their own populace. Unlucky stragglers, or those unable to fend for themselves, are left to suffer a fate known most unfair. You may be left alive, once a victim to these predators, but the consequences of the act will also leave them emotionally and mentally devoid. No man should suffer this fate.
A person is shown, crying while hanging upside down on the monkey bars of the playground, with his back towards the scene. The view edges in, creating a more detailed and vivid scene with each foot it comes closer. The person turns around, with the flesh surrounding his face completely torn from the flesh. His eyes and mouth and nostrils were all visible, it was just a pool of red surrounding and dripping down, in to his hair. The upside down person cried vigorously.
Voiceover:: But the delicacy is considered grand, and there are some villagers who have taken precaution to insure that they would stay face among the savage face-eaters, one man specifically who has chosen to spread the gospel.
A black silhouette of a man is shown.
Voiceover:: This man has eaten more faces than Roseanne Barr did when she actually had a career, and then some. He has been elected the spokesman of his village, and wishes to spread the news.
Light shines from behind, giving color to the outline of the figure, but still, black surrounds his head.
Voiceover:: And now, he has come to the East Coast, to show everyone the joys and wonders of what magic his methods can bring.
And now, the man is revealed to be slightly scrawny, very pale, wearing a black cape and a black mask, leaving his mouth and eyes uncovered. Red and white splash all over the mask in a Hawaiian flower décor, and the man is smiling gracefully.
Voiceover:: The Face of the Atlantic Wrestling Club, now and forever more, shall be… EATEN!
Cue “Welcome Home” by Coheed & Cambria, and finally, the moment everyone has been waiting for….
AWC, meet THE ILLUSTRIOUS FACE-EATER!
James Brunt: The following is a standard singles match, introducing first from the state of Utah and at an unlisted weight… THE ILLUSTRIOUS FACE-EATER!
The Illustrious Face-Eater makes his way down towards the ring and while he does, Cohhed & Cambria changes to “Reflection” by Tool and another figure emerges.
James Brunt: His opponent from parts unknown, weighing in at 229 pounds… VOID!
Void comes running down towards the ring and slides under the bottom rope and into the ring, and he wastes no time going after Illustrious Face-Eater. Void lunges at Illustrious Face-Eater but Face-Eater just jumps away from him and kicks him in the face which sends Void backwards.
Truth Waters:: Face-Eater, while having a size disadvantage, doesn’t let that bother him as he makes it up for quickness.
George Cassidy:: He seems like a little shrimp to me that is going to get overmatched here.
Face-Eater runs at Void and goes for a spinning heel kick, but Void is able to duck out of the way and then grab Face-Eater and take him down with an overhead body slam. As he gets the Illustrious Face-Eater to the ground he doesn’t let up and grabs onto him again, this time from the reverse side. Void lifts Face-Eater and slams him down with a German suplex! Void gets on top of Face-Eater and hooks the leg for a pinfall attempt.
ONE!
TWO!
Not even close, as Face-Eater easily kicks out when Aaron Davies’ hand hits the mat for the second time.
George Cassidy:: I’m not sure what the point of that pinfall was, that early in the match.
Truth Waters:: I’ll agree with that, maybe Void is underestimating his opponent.
Void has still retained the momentum in the match as he pulls Illustrious Face-Eater up by grabbing his head. Void then gives him a swift kick in the gut and takes him down with a DDT. Void then drops an elbow to the head of Face-Eater and Face-Eater can do nothing but squirm in pain. Face-Eater doesn’t have time to recover as Void picks him up again and now is setting up for a suplex maneuver, but as Void lifts up Face-Eater he is able to get out of Void’s grasp and flip himself behind Void.
Truth Waters:: Finally, Face-Eater is able to get away from the physical beating he has endured from Void!
Face-Eater uses this opening to take down Void by the feet and then when Void gets back up, Face-Eater gets right in position to deliver a standing dropkick that sends Void right back down to the mat. Unfortunately for Face-Eater, Void gets right back up again and charges with a clothesline, but Face-Eater is able to duck underneath at the last moment. Face-Eater uses Void’s momentum against him and takes him down with an arm drag.
Truth Waters:: Good move by Face-Eater, as long as he doesn’t try and over power Void he should be in good shape.
George Cassidy:: Again, I’m not sure this guy has the size to be successful at the professional level, this isn’t some backyard amateur organization.
Face-Eater drags Void over to the corner and slams Void’s head into the turnbuckle. He grabs Void’s head again and slams it for a second time for good measure. Then he places Void on top of the turnbuckle and sets up for a superplex! With everything positioned correctly, Face-Eater lifts up Void in the air and both wrestlers are sent crashing down to the mat after the perfectly executed superplex! It takes a few seconds for Face-Eater to recover from hitting the mat, and he slowly gets up to his feet. Void soon follows and both wrestlers are now on their feet, and start to exchanging punches.
George Cassidy:: Probably not the best idea to get into a brawling match with Void for this Face-Eater character.
Void quickly overpowers Face-Eater and backs him up into the corner. Face-Eater eventually has to lower his defense and is rendered helpless and Void is doing nothing but pounding away at him in the corner. Face-Eater is then whipped hard into the opposite corner. Void rushes at him going for a forearm smash to the head, but Face-Eater jumps out of the away and Void hits nothing but the turnbuckle. Face-Eater now takes control and grabs the stunned Void and slams him down with a reverse DDT!
Instead of going after a pinfall, the Illustrious Face-Eater starts climbing up the turnbuckle and gets on up the top. As he sets up, he gets in position and flies off for a moonsault and lands perfectly on the dazed body of Void!!!
Truth Waters:: Great high flying move by the Illustrious Face-Eater! I’m going to have to say that was very impressive!
Face-Eater wastes no time in laying on top of Void to try and get the pinfall.
ONE!
TWO!
THR-
But it wasn’t meant to be as Void is able to get a foot on the rope. Face-Eater gets up and starts arguing with Aaron Davies, saying that his foot didn’t touch the rope while Davies stands by his original ruling.
Truth Waters:: I think Face-Eater is now insulting Davies, asking if he’s even of legal working age!
George Cassidy:: He might have a point, I don’t know who this Davies kid thinks he is trying to officiate wrestling matches at his age.
While Face-Eater is arguing with Aaron Davies, Void gets back up to his feet and with Face-Eater’s back turned towards him he uses this opportunity to get a cheap shot on the unsuspecting Face-Eater. He charges at him, but Face-Eater is able to see Void come at him at the last second and moves out of the way. Void instead takes off Aaron Davies’ head with a vicious clothesline. Angry that he hit the wrong target Void turns around to face the Illustrious Face-Eater, who in the meantime is trying a running cross body against Void. Void manages to counter by grabbing Face-Eater in mid air and slamming him down to the ground. Void then realizing the referee is not yet regained his senses, slides out of the ring and grabs a steel chair from the outside.
Truth Waters:: What would a wrestling match be without the use of illegal weapons?
George Cassidy:: Boring.
Void just waits for Face-Eater to get back up and the poor fellow doesn’t know what’s coming to him. Void just rears back and swings and BAM! Down goes the Illustrious Face-Eater after a loud chair shot to his skull. Just for kicks, Void slams the chair over Face-Eater’s head while he is down on the ground. Void then tosses the chair out of the ring and pins Face-Eater.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Oh wait, there’s a problem. Aaron Davies’ still is feeling the effects from being whacked in the head by Void. Getting a little pissed, Void goes over to Davies and drags him over to the middle of the ring where he has the Face-Eater down and ready to be pinned and yells at Davies to start counting. Void then goes back down to the mat to pin Face-Eater.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
NO! Aaron Davies’ hand stops inches away from the mat, because the Illustrious Face-Eater was able to get his shoulder up! The crowd gives a mixed reaction.
Truth Waters:: Great job by Face-Eater to avoid defeat! And with neither of these guys really being what you can consider a fan favorite, it seems like the crowd is split on who to cheer for.
George Cassidy:: People are just plain stupid, they can’t make up their minds about anything. Especially wrestling fans, biggest bunch of morons I’ve had to deal with.
Void now frustrated because he feels he should have won this match by now, is setting up a reverse DDT which happens to be his set up move, the Soundless Requiem. He wouldn’t get a chance to pull it off however, as the Illustrious Face-Eater is able to use a free arm to drive an elbow to Void’s throat! With that, Void’s hold on Face-Eater is loose and Face-Eater is able to escape and quickly he delivers his set up move an Osama-rana!!!
Truth Waters:: What a beautiful reverse hurricanrana!!! Now it looks like the Illustrious Face-Eater is setting up for a suplex, this could be his finisher!
Indeed that was what he was doing, setting up for the Eaterplex ’05 which is a modified wristlock exploder suplex. A few seconds later, Void was nothing but a victim of the finish maneuver and the Illustrious Face-Eater was just seconds away from victory as he covered up Void for the pinfall.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
James Brunt: The winner, by pinfall… the Illustrious Face-Eater!
Truth Waters:: Impressive debut by the Illustrious Face-Eater! He is able.
George Cassidy:: Meh, I didn’t see anything that great.
Post-Match Syndrome
FEATURING: THE ILLUSTRIOUS FACE-EATER, VOID, JAMES BRUNT
AUTHOR: JOE SCHMIDT
The Illustrious Face-Eater pulled back on the ties of his mask, realigning his vision. He had to check and make sure what he was seeing coinciding with what was happening. Rushing to his knees and then his feet, the Illustrious Face-Eater looked down at Void with an expression that could only be described as blank (due to the mask). For a second, the way his eyes lit up from under the mask made him seem surprised, if anything.
Truth Waters: Well, an impressive... and eclectic match to see. Also an impressive first win for the Face-Eater here in AWC.
The Spanish crowd gave up a few cheers for the outing displayed, but Face-Eater was something else; overjoyed. His arms shot in the air overhead and he couldn’t stop shaking them.
Face-Eater: YES! YES! YES!
George Cassidy: That’s just wrong… he hasn’t popped his first cherry?
Truth Waters: George, that’s just tasteless...
George Cassidy: What?! I was talking about the match; he’s never won one before?
Face-Eater jumped from his knees and began running around the outskirts of the mat. The referee had finally become fed up with waiting for him to finish celebrating to raise his hands as the victor. Before Face-Eater could run across Void, the loser, rolled from under the bottom rope and to the outside, quietly leaving the arena.
”Welcome Home” began to play again, but Face-Eater wasn’t enjoying that.
Face-Eater: No! NO! NOT YET! Cut that shit off!
He ran over to the announcer’s station, where he was handed a microphone. The music was quietly muffled out over the Face-Eater’s own voice.
Face-Eater: That’s right! That’s right! Try and escape, unnoticed! You know what, Void, I might be doing the same thing had I lost HUMILIATINGLY to a newcomer, but guess what, I didn’t!
Truth Waters: Rubbing it in a little?
Face-Eater: Do you know why? Do you know why, Void? Because I PINNED you! That’s right! I pinned you, tonight, in this very ring! And that’s got to do wonders for your self-esteem; at least you tried, right? WRONG! You didn’t even try! You just sat there and let me slap you silly like you do for everyone else! But this time there was FEAR running through your veins…
Face-Eater: FEAR OF DA’ FACE-EATER!
Void was now at the top of the ramp, unable to say anything in the midst of defeat. He just gave the Face-Eater a very dirty look, and disappeared behind the infamous black curtain.
George Cassidy: Hah! This guy is alright.
Face-Eater: And that’s just, like, the fucking prelude! Oh shit, can I say fucking?
He looks across the ring and to the ring announcer, who just shrugs his shoulders unknowingly.
Face-Eater: Awesome, we’re good to go! Well, let me be the first to OFFICIALLY welcome you, Atlantic Wrestling Corpor –
James Brunt: Atlantic Wrestling CLUB.
Face-Eater stopped in his pre-speech, turning to the announcer who looked at him sternly, as if he were an idiot.
Face-Eater: What?
James Brunt: I said, the Atlantic Wrest –
Face-Eater: WHAT?!
Rudely interrupted, James Brunt just crossed his arms and refused to speak any more.
Face-Eater: That’s better! Well before asshole over there got beaten in his own game, I was about to make all you welcome me, warmly, to the ADubC. So how’s about a warm round of applause?
Luke-warm applause followed, which included the interaction of George Cassidy. Other fans were scarce among areas, and the heavy amount of claps came from the front few rows. Unfortunately, these were all the Face-Eater could hear, and he thought of them to be more than they were.
Face-Eater: Yes! Praise your new deity! I have all the freakin’ qualifications, too. I’m a former champion, PLUS, I eat people’s fucking faces! Don’t believe me? Just ask Mena Suvarri, star of the Box Office Smash, “American Pie”! I fed my entire country with her forehead alone.
Truth Waters: What the hell is he talking about?
Face-Eater: And if that’s just TOO EXTREME for you, if I am too IN YOUR FACE!, then just close your eyes. AND LET ME DESTROY YOUR EAR-DRUMS WITH MY RIDICULOUSLY AWESOME PROMOS! This is charisma you couldn’t find with the Educator, no way, I actually HAVE personality.
Mixed reaction. The Face-Eater still paced around the ring, addressing a certain section of the crowd with each part of his speech.
Face-Eater: But that’s okay, I don’t expect you all to take to me so quickly. So I’ll just be on my way… but not without a warning.
Truth Waters: I really don’t know what to make of this.
Face-Eater: This may be for the ADubC as a roster, or this may be for one very specific person, who knows. Alls I have to say is, ‘I went after your partner, and done away with him, and now I’m after you. I may be coming at you head-on, or my attacks may be as small as… oh, let’s say fire-ants.’ KAY! THANX! BYE!
“Welcome Home” played again, this time segueing right in to the massive guitar riffs and orchestral back-up. The Illustrious Face-Eater snatched his cape and left the ring, his arms high every step of the way.
Truth Waters: That was the most specific yet vague threat I’ve ever heard, as contradictory as it was.
George Cassidy: I know. Awesome, isn’t it?!
Jack Moses vs Pact
STIPULATION: SINGLES
REFEREE: MICHAEL RYAN
AUTHOR: LARA CLARKE
The lights around the arena begin to fade. Fans going about their daily business of buying popcorn and merchandise freeze in their tracks. Truth Waters and George Cassidy take their positions once again at the ring announcer table. Fans sit patiently. James Blunt makes his way to the ring.
Truth Waters: We’re about to kick-start our next match tonight, Cassidy.
George Cassidy: I wonder if I could get some of that popcorn, I’m starving over here.
Truth Waters: George, the match.
George Cassidy: Oh right!
“Dreams” by The Game blares out of the surrounding speakers. The fans are on their feet, anticipation growing. Jack Moses enters the arena from behind the black curtains and is greeted by a large chanting of cheers.
James Brunt: Making his way to the ring, from Edmunds, Washington. Weighing in at 215lbs. JACK MOSES.
Truth Waters: Jack Moses, another impressive new wrestler, signed by David “Pearl” Harber.
George Cassidy: These newcomers are like cockroaches. Our backstage locker room is invested with them.
The commentators’ microphones fall silent as the arena lights blacken. “King Kill 33” by Marilyn Manson haunts the speakers. Fans are on their feet, banners in hand as they wait for the ‘Nightstalker’ to enter. He pushes past the black curtains and is greeted by a cacophony of boos from the surrounding fans. Certain Pact fans try to drown-out of the booing from other fans, but their attempts fail. Pacts strides methodically down to the ring.
James Brunt: Making his way to the ring, from Yonkers, New York. Weighing in at 234lbs, PACT.
Truth Waters: Pact is the first man in AWC history to ever get ‘freshman’ in a row. No other man has gotten that.
George Cassidy: Stating the obvious, Truth. I can’t get over the harsh reaction from these fans. They just can’t appreciate all of the time and effort than goes into performing these matches.
Truth Waters: It’s all part of the sport, Cassidy. It makes it a lot more interesting. Not everyone is liked.
Pact slides into the ring and taunts the fans. Michael Ryan has taken the place of James Brunt. Jack Moses now slides into the ring and stares Pact in the face. Michael Ryan comes between the two men and announces the rules to both men. The bell rings and the match gets underway. Pact starts off with a quick solid take-down. Jack Moses gets straight back-up, not the slight bit rattled. Pact and Moses tie-up. Both men begin a battle of strength. The fans stare in awe as neither man budges. Moses begins a slow drive, forcing Pact into the turnbuckle. Pact raises his hands off Moses’s shoulders and covers his face. Michael Ryan begins a break-up count. Moses lets go and walks backward, ever so slightly. Pact takes his chance and dives at Moses, taking him not with a quick bulldog.
Truth Waters: Quick take-down from Pact.
George Cassidy: Moses let his own guard down, that’s the first mistake that one could make in these matches.
Pact gets back into an attack situation and begins pounding away at Jack Moses’ left leg. Pact grabs the left foot and lifts it into the air; Moses has no choice but to lift his weight with his arms. Feeling safe, just a little, Moses relaxes, only to have his knee slammed into the mat by Pact. Pact, relentless and determined continues to slam the knee into the mat. Moses reverses with his right foot and kicks Pact in the jaw. Moses slides out of the ring, and tends to his knee. Blood begins to trickle from Pact’s mouth.
Truth Waters: A sharp counter from Moses, causing Pact to bite his own tongue.
Pact performs a baseball slide, Moses ducks and Pact slides out of the ring to the outside, connecting with the mat. The fans ‘boo’ Pact, as Moses takes the upper hand. He begins to pick Pact up. The fans are now on their feet cheering Jack Moses. Jack Moses launches Pact against the outside turnbuckle; Pact’s shoulder connects as he spins around it and falls to the other side of the ring. Jack Moses begins to limp after the fallen Pact.
Truth Waters: Jack Moses limping a little, I think his knee may have sustained some injury.
George Cassidy: That is the risk involved in this business, Truth. You’ll always get injured.
Pact is back up and rubs his shoulder, cursing as he does so. Jack Moses has made his way to where Pact is seated and charges, Pact scouts his opponents charge. Jack Moses drives his knee toward Pact, however, Pact ducks and send Jack Moses’ knee into the steel steps. Jack Moses yells out in pain and rolls around, gripping his knee. Pact slides into the ring, just as Michael Ryan was about to begin a count.
Truth Waters: Pact is really working on that on weak spot.
Jack Moses stands up, using the steps for leverage. Pact slides back out, but Moses delivers a rake to the eye. Pact shakes his head and rubs his eye. Jack Moses kicks Pact in the gut and sets him up for a Powerbomb, he hit’s it on the outside. The fans are ecstatic, cheering immensely at Jack Moses. Jack slides into the ring. Michael Ryan begins the ten count:
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Truth Waters: A sudden adrenaline burst from Jack Moses, causing Pact to suffer with a devastating Powerbomb on the outside.
George Cassidy: Pact will rise soon enough, you’ll see.
FOUR!
FIVE!
Pact begins to stir; using his finger he grips the ring apron and pulls his limp body off the rubber covered floor. He slides into the ring on the 6 count. Jack Moses meanwhile has had time to recuperate and has pulled on a knee pad, offered to him by the ring medic. Pact stands up, fazed a little from the Powerbomb. Jack Moses charges and connects with a spear.
Truth Waters: This could be it for the veteran, Pact.
Jack pins Pact.
ONE!
TWO!
George Cassidy: Kick-out by Pact. It will take more than a spear to take this man down. He used to wrestle in Japan, that place has all sorts of strange matches.
Pact managed to get his hand up on the two count. Jack Moses stands up and questions Michael Ryan’s counting. Michael Ryan having none of it turns his back on Jack Moses. Pact suddenly delivers a low blow to the young newcomer. Jack Moses cringes and falls to the mat. Pact covers and yells at Michael Ryan to count.
Truth Waters: Desperate measures made by Pact.
ONE!
TWO!
George Cassidy: Now, that wasn’t desperate, just plain clever. Look he’s going to win. That’s where brain comes in over bran!
THR-!
In the last second Moses managed to reach the rope. Michael Ryan signals for the match to continue and stands up. Pact looks on at the rope that caused the break-up and mumbles something. He is soon standing, alongside Moses. Both men tie-up once more. This time Pact takes control and Irish Whips Moses against the ropes. Moses hurdles forward, full force. Pact catches him in a belly to belly and hits it perfectly, sending Moses flying across the ring in mid air. Moses cringes at impact but takes his pain and stands up again. Pact looks on with a cocky grin.
Truth Waters: Is it me, or did that belly to belly have no effect on Moses?
George Cassidy: …
Moses and Pact tie-up again. Pact begins a slight drive, Moses drops his grip and delivers a quick arm drag. Pact unfazed charges once more at Moses and connects with a flying lariat. Moses stands and Pact grabs his head, shakes it and then kicks him in the regions.
Truth Waters: Pacts common trademark, The Betrayal.
George Cassidy: I’d hate to be Moses in that situation. That was a clubbing blow!
Moses falls against Pact, Pact leans back and Moses falls. Wiping his shoulders, cockily, Pact pins Moses.
ONE!
Moses kicks out on the one count, Pact is not amused. Moses stands up again, with the help of referee Michael Ryan’s trousers. Whilest standing, Pact tries for an inverted Neckbreaker. Moses counters and sends Pact lunging forward. Pact turns around to face Moses. Moses jumps and hit’s a quick diamond cutter, he goes for the pin.
ONE!
TWO!
Pact kicks-out. Moses smiles at Pact and sits down on the second rope, whilest Pact begins to stand, checking his nose.
Truth Waters: The diamond cutter, a very favourable move among most wrestlers nowadays. Catches the opponent off-guard. Moses grabs Pact by the hair and pulls him into a crucifix DDT. Pact reverses and sends Moses over his head to the mat below. Pact stumbles backward and remains standing, unwilling to pin. He waits for Moses to rise once again.
Truth Waters: What is Pact doing?
Pact grabs Moses back the back and locks in a tazmission.
George Cassidy: A submission move by Pact.
Both men fall to the mat. Pact is unwilling to break the hold. Moses gasps for air, his arms flailing around the air, as though he were swatting bees. Pact pulls tighter. Moses arms fall limp. Michael Ryan checks on Moses and soon begins to raise his arms. His arm falls once, twice. Moses suddenly springs to life, a loud sigh from the fans in the arena. He elbows Pact in the gut and continues until Pact has no choice but to let go. Moses gasps for air and Pact holds his ribs.
Truth Waters: Both men are giving it their all out here tonight.
George Cassidy: I was so sure that Moses would have given up on the tazmission.
Moses and Pact rise once again. Michael Ryan checks on both men and then signals for them to resume their match. Moses charges at Pact. Pact tries for a count Irish Whip, but finds himself sent into the turnbuckle. Moses charges but Pact delivers a boot to the face. Moses spins around, grabbing his nose. Pact flips his body onto the third turnbuckle and launches, hitting a shooting star bulldog. The fans look on in amazement. Pact hit’s the move perfectly and pins Moses.
Truth Waters: What a high-risk move from Pact.
George Cassidy: This man has a lot of potential, perhaps the fans won’t boo him anymore.
ONE!
TWO!
THR-
George Cassidy: I don’t believe it, he kicked-out, this can’t be!!!
Moses grabs the bottom rope with his free hand and pushes Pact off him. Pact slams the mat with his hand and runs his hands through his hair in frustration. The fans begin a mixed chant. Some for Moses and some for Pact. Pact turns to Ryan and blatantly shoves him out of his way. Ryan stumbles backwards and sighs. Moses is up and charges at Pact, connecting with an inverted swinging Neckbreaker. Pact connects to the mat and rolls to the outside. Moses smiles and follows in hot pursuit.
Truth Waters: Moses has the advantage now.
George Cassidy: It’s like a game of cat and mouse!
Pact suddenly shimmies around the steps and delivers a swift kick to the gut of Moses. Pact laughs and slides into the ring. Moses doesn’t see the humour in a cheap shot and manages to get his body into the ring, on the five count. Ryan checks on both men and resumes the match.
Truth Waters: I suppose you would say that Pact was playing a fair game when he side kicked Moses in the gut.
George Cassidy: Of course…
Pact taunts the fans, his back turned to Moses; Moses gritting his teeth charges at Pact. Pact turns around, but he’s too late. Moses grabs Pact’s head and spins his torso and hits his finisher, “The End”.
Truth Waters: An RKO from Moses.
George Cassidy: Don’t say it’s over! Not this way…
Moses goes for the cover and Ryan begins a count:
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
James Brunt: Here is your winner, JACK MOSES.
Michael Ryan raises Moses’s hand and his music blares from the surrounding speakers. Pact looks on in amazement.
George Cassidy: Beaten by the RKO!
Cut To The Core
FEATURING: TIM SHIPLEY, DAVID "PEARL" HARBER
AUTHOR: PIERRE HYDE
A door: “DAVID HARBER”, reads its plaque. A fist: knock, knock, knock.
Voice: Come on in.
We switch to a different camera, situated inside the office of AWC’s Entertainment Manager, David “Pearl” Harber. Tim Shipley strides in with unforeseen authority and takes a seat, not waiting to be asked to do so. Fortunately for him, Harber is one of the most easy-going bosses in the business, and he isn’t complaining. Tearing his eyes away from his computer screen, he meets Shipley’s stare.
Pearl: What’s up, Tim?
Tim Shipley: Mr. Harber, I’m sorry to have to ask this, but I’m requesting permission to fly out to Europe a week later for the tour.
Harber frowns and moves his chair right up close to his desk, clasping his hands together.
Pearl: Why is this?
Shipley sighs and looks down, trembling. He draws in his breath sharply through his nose, then brings his eyes back up.
Tim Shipley: It’s – it’s Core.
Pearl: Core Wrestling?
Shipley nods, raising his hand onto the desk for the first time, and in it is a video tape.
Pearl: What’s going on, Tim?
Tim Shipley: It’s bad enough that they humiliated me on live television. But... but they did the same to Tony...
He breaks off, unable to continue.
Pearl: What? What did they do, Tim?
Tim Shipley: I don’t think they even know he died! But – they must know – just not care...
Pearl: Tim – tell me what happened.
But Shipley cannot express himself clearly, instead waving the tape helplessly at Harber, who takes it.
Pearl: Can I –
He motions towards a VCR, conveniently connected to the PC monitor Harber had been studying. Shipley looks up and nods before burying his head in his hands.
The distorted guitar of The Bravery's "Unconditional" starts up and the house lights dim as a selection of red spotlights switch themselves on and off rapidly, creating the effect of a frantic dance of color which enraptures the crowd.
Eliza Fitzpatrick: But...
Taylor Snyder: Is AWC invading Core?
Eliza Fitzpatrick: Certainly Mr. Lanier hasn't signed back a man he despises?
Taylor Snyder: He keeps bringing back Jack Diamond.
Eliza Fitzpatrick: Good point.
The regular tapping of the snare drum begins, and the red lights continue as now a pulsing strobe of white light flashes from either side of the curtain in time with the beats on the drum, blinding the fans again and again as they strain to watch the entrance-way. Now the drums proper kick in, and the white lights speed up, now flashing just as frantically as the red ones, still leading their desperate dance around the arena. The music dies down, leaving just some quiet drums and one note held on the guitar, and The Pioneers step through the curtain together just as the vocals begin.
"I've spent my whole life surrounded"...and the crowd erupts into cheers and laughter.
Taylor Snyder: How do we keep falling for these things? Shouldn't we know better by now?
Eliza Fitzpatrick: I'm afraid to say this...but apparently we aren't as smart as Buddy Kingfisher.
Standing on the stage is Buddy Kingfisher in a college letterman jacket, or what appears to be a crudely made one, as it isn't a football one. No this is a college letterman, HOME ECONOMICS jacket. He smiles as he runs his hands through his badly done blond wig, and turns to smile at his friend Joseph who has his hair up in the same goofy look that Tony Aliso used to keep his while in Core. After a few moments the two... uh... Pioneers... members begin to walk down the ramp.
Eliza Fitzpatrick: I guess that is... Buddy Shipley and Joe Aliso?
Taylor Snyder: Why do I have the feeling this is something out of the Public Enemy vault?
Joe Aliso, as we'll call him, slaps the hands of some of the fans, smiling and laughing as he does what he loves. Buddy Shipley, we suppose, also breaks into a smile as the pair walk down to the ring side by side, looking confident but above all happy.
"And I've spent my whole life alone"
Vicki: Making their way to the ring, at a combined weight of seven hundred fifty two pounds, Joe Aliso... Buddy Shipley... THE WHINING-EERS!
"I wonder why I never wondered why the easiest things are so hard"
Taylor Snyder: Oh boy. I see lawsuits on our way.
Eliza Fitzpatrick: Come on Taylor get in the spirit. Buddy is just giving everyone an entertaining and good time. Besides we can't be sued for him telling the truth can w –
Pearl: That’s enough.
He takes out the tape, watching Shipley’s body tremble as he fights to hold the tears back.
Pearl: That was... beyond out of order.
Shipley nods and looks up at Harber, tears in his eyes.
Tim Shipley: I’ve got to go there. I’ve got to. How could they do that to Tony? How could they –
Pearl: OK, OK. That’s fine with me. You go, and you can join the tour one week later, for the show on August 2nd from... Madrid, is it?
There is a pause.
Pearl: (conversationally) So... uh... where do you need to be for this next show of theirs?
Tim Shipley: (immediately) Biloxi, Massachusetts.
Pearl: (grudgingly) I’ll arrange transport...
Shipley looks up at Pearl.
Tim Shipley: Thank you so much. I – I will repay you. I promise –
Pearl holds up a hand.
Pearl: Tim... don’t worry about it. You’re only here on a short-term contract anyway – I know we aren’t going to get a lot out of you. But what Core has done – what Core is doing – that’s beyond disgusting. I can’t believe that Buddy Kingfisher –
Shipley shakes his head.
Tim Shipley: It’s not just him. He didn’t come up with that, the writers did. It’s Core as a whole – the management right down to the fans. They don’t care about what Tony did for them – they don’t care that he’s DEAD!
Shipley’s head drops suddenly to the desk and the back of his body starts to convulse; he is clearly crying. Pearl sits awkwardly.
Pearl: (gently) Tim, I suggest you go to your locker room and relax a bit... forget about this. You need to relax. You’ve got a match later on...
Tim Shipley: (in a barely audible croak) Oh, God...
Pearl: Just go back to your locker room and recompose yourself. Find Pierce, he’ll help you with that –
Shipley stands and nods furiously.
Tim Shipley: OK. OK, I’ll do that. Sorry about... that...
He gestures non-committally towards the desk.
Tim Shipley: And – and thanks. For next week.
Harber nods again.
Pearl: Yeah, that’s fine. Just relax now, OK? And Tim... when you go to PRIDE... just be careful.
He grins weakly, and Shipley returns it before leaving the room.
Making Friends
FEATURING: ANDY MURRAY AND "THE FARMER" MICKEY FITZ-MCCARTHY
AUTHOR: ANDY MURRAY
We cut to the backstage area, where we find “The Scottish King of Cool” Andy Murray pacing the corridors, his “pet” fire-breathing badger Snowball on the end of a leash, plodding along contently. Eventually, Andy stops at a dressing room door.
Andy Murray: Hmm… I believe this is the right place…
Without hesitation he knocks on the door, after a few seconds it is answered by “The Farmer” Mickey Fitz-McCarthy, who is half-dressed in ring attire, half in casual attire; obviously, his match preparations had been interrupted by Murray.
The Farmer: Huh? What do ye feckin’ want?
Andy Murray: Good evening, Mr. Fitz-McCarthy! From Celt to Celt, I just come to wish you good luck in your bout later on this evening! Us Celtic badboys gotta stick together, know what I mean?
“The Farmer” raises an eyebrow, as Andy extends a hand. With a shrug, Fitz-McCarthy eventually shakes the Scotsman’s hand.
The Farmer: Well eh, thank ye…
Andy Murray: No problem! You kno-
The Farmer: What the!?! AHHHHHH!
The Farmer interrupts Andy, as he felt his left leg begin to burn. He looked down to find the last traces of a burst of fire emerging from Snowball’s mouth. Immediately, Mickey runs straight through the locker room, and straight into the shower area. With a grin, Snowball tugs on the leash, releasing it from Andy’s weak grip. Murray didn’t seem to notice, as he too rushes to the aid of the Farmer.
Andy Murray: Oh shit…
Mickey flung the shower on, and immediately flung his burning limb under the cool water. He scowled at Murray.
The Farmer: Feck! What was that, badger’s can’t breathe fire…
Andy Murray: Seesh, sorry about that amigo! Snowball does tend to get a little bit carried away every now and then…
Fortunately, Fitz-McCarthy manages to extinguish the last traces of the flames before any real damage can be done. Using his hand, he brushes some of the excess water away, before shaking his head.
Andy Murray: Please accept my most humble apology.
The Farmer: Pfft, alright, just make sure it doesn’t happen again…
Andy nods with a grin, but his grin is quick to fade as the look on the Farmer’s face again sours… he points over Andy’s shoulder.
The Farmer: FECKIN’ BADGER!
Murray glances over his shoulder, and notices Snowball sat dead in the centre of Fitz-McCarthy’s bag, having a good ol’ munch on what looks like a shirt. Mickey makes a made dive towards the badger, but fortunately Andy manages to get in front of him.
Andy Murray: Whoa, let me handle this…
Snowball is startled as Andy picks her up with both hands, holding her in front of him, face to face.
Andy Murray: What did I say about eating other people’s stuff?! NO! NO! NO! BAD badger!
He turns towards the Farmer.
Andy Murray: I’m so sorry… I’ll make sure this crazy motherclucker doesn’t bother you again!
With that, Andy turns to flee the room; definitely the best idea at this point in time, leaving the Farmer scowling and cursing.
Honey, I'm Covered In Red Ants
FEATURING: TIM SHIPLEY, ???
AUTHOR: PIERRE HYDE
Tim Shipley stands against the door of Pearl’s office, breathing hard. His eyes are red from the emotion of just a few minutes earlier. Taking deep breaths in and out, he resolves himself to do just what Harber advised him: go back to the locker room, find Pierce, relax.
Edging away from the door, he moves along the corridor, looking up with interest at the noticeboard as he goes. Seeing nothing that concerns him, he walks on, giving the camera at the end of the hallway a cautious smile – the fans give him a small cheer at this point.
Shipley turns left, heading for his locker room – but something is wrong. A low buzzing noise is coming from somewhere up ahead, becoming progressively louder as Shipley approaches. With a frown on his face, the younger half of The Academy starts to move more slowly.
The next door is ajar. Shipley notices this just as his mind makes an important connection – the noise is more than a buzz. It is the blare of a television – more specifically, the drone of commentary over a wrestling match. The commentators? Core Wrestling’s Taylor Snyder and Eliza Fitzpatrick. The match?
Eliza Fitzpatrick: And here comes William Curr!
Taylor Snyder: And they're not taking it easy on Tony Aliso's face!
He knows those lines. He knows that match like he knows any of his matches – more so, in fact, since its untimely rise to a new spotlight at the end of last week’s Fresh!. Tim Shipley and Tony Aliso versus Adam Dick and William Curr; PRIDE 19; February 9th 2005.
His eyes blazing, Shipley enters the darkened room, where the only light is the bright contrast of the television, playing back that Core Wrestling video tape. Angrily, Shipley sets himself on the TV set, wrenching out the video. Spools of tape fall to the floor. A moment later, the door slams shut.
Shipley’s body is outlined in the grey half-light of the television static.
There is silence, save for heavy breathing. From more than two lungs.
A large object shoots into view right above Shipley’s head.
He lets out a cry.
Moments later, a viscous fluid is running its slow way down Shipley’s body.
He makes a desperate dive for the door. Throwing it open, he bursts out of the room and takes a few steps down the corridor. Then he stops, looking down at himself – and realising that he is covered in honey.
Slowly – ominously – a red bucket creeps into the picture.
It is emptied over Shipley’s head.
The slam of a door is heard.
Shipley whirls around, but before he can do or say anything, the red ants coating every inch of his upper body start to do their work.
Wide-eyed, he sprints down the hallway towards the locker room.
Family Support
FEATURING: HUGO AND CATARINA SILVEIRA
AUTHOR: DAVID "DJ" HEDLEY
The show moves backstage, to the locker room of Amy Silveira. The door of the room is empty, and in the background the hurried preparation for the upcoming match is evident. The room is empty, apart from some clothes scattered around the room, and the now-sweating and slightly nervous Hugo Silveira. Hugo stands, facing the bed, adjusting himself in preparation for the match. He doesn't look worried, but possibly concerned, and is clearly focused on the white, peeling wall opposite him.
Hugo Silveira: I've been preparing and waiting for this moment for a long time.. And now.. And now I have this chance, I can only pray that it works out just as I'd dreamt all along. After all, I've put a lot into this, and now is when it has to pay off, for me, for my daughter, and for my family…
Hugo is clearly talking to himself, or rather to the wall, in a way that it is clear he is thinking out loud. It isn't loud enough to be heard unless someone is listening. He is interrupted by Catarina appearing in the doorway, looking less nervous that Hugo, and less than Amy had been earlier.
Catarina Silveira: Dad, they're asking for you.
Catarina disappears immediately, and Hugo responds by brushing himself down, turning around and making his way to the door. He stops as he reaches it, and grins.
Hugo Silveira: Let’s do this.
Hugo leaves the room, and the show cuts to the ring for the beginning of the match.
Amy Silveira vs The Farmer
STIPULATION: SINGLES
REFEREE: JOSEPH REID
AUTHOR: JAAKKO OKSA
Truth Waters: And up next, ”The Farmer” Mickey Fitz-McCarthy faces the debuting Amy Silveira, who at only 18 years of age is certainly the youngest wrestler on the Atlantic Wrestling Club roster.
George Cassidy: I hate to interrupt you, Truth, but I must once again question the sanity of this booking, or the lack thereof. Silveira is 18 years old, not even 120 pounds, and she’s facing The Farmer, who’s a legit 6’4” and 230 pounds, plus. Why is Pearl so set on destroying new talent? Last week it was Kuff McSlade and Hate, and now this.
Truth Waters: Or it could be that Pearl believes that Amy has what it takes to win this match, no matter if it is against a man the size of Fitz-McCarthy. Ass.
As Waters and Cassidy argue on the commentary, James Brunt takes his spot in the middle of the ring with the mic to prepare for his announcements. After tipping his top hat to the audience, Brunt launches into the first introduction.
James Brunt: Introducing first, from Lisbon, Portugal, weighing in at 116 pounds... AMY SILVEIRA!
An AWC edited version of the Prodigy's "Girls" begins playing over the loud speakers, with the previously unheard theme of Amy Silveira receiving slight response from the Costa Rican crowd.
Imagine how it would be
To be at the top, making cash money
Truth Waters: This match will be the debut appearance of Amy Silveira, a new signing to the AWC, and our second female wrestler.
George Cassidy: And inferior female wrestler, of course.
And tour all around the world
Tell stories about all the young.
The heavy beat of the theme kicks in, and the arena effects begin to produce flashing lights in various colours, lighting up the entrance way in shades of blue, green, orange and red in fast bursts. Upon the beat kicking in, the proud-looking Portuguese manager Hugo Silveira appears to the entrance, with his proud and confident stance clear as he begins the walk to the ring. To his left, and a pace or two behind him, is a serious-looking Amy Silveira, who is concentrating completely on the ring, with a concerned and less confident look on her face. Cheers of support are heard in the crowd as the two advance to the ring for their debut.
George Cassidy: Oh, great, another babyfaced, crowd-pleasing piece of eye-candy appears in AWC.
Truth Waters: We don't have, as far as I know, any babyfaced eye-candy at this point.
George Cassidy: ...Thats not my point here.
Amy reaches the ring, stepping in through the middle ropes, and learning against the turnbuckle, staring at the one opposite with evident inconfidence for the match.
James Brunt: And her opponent, from Dowra, Co. Leitrim, Ireland, weighing in at 233 pounds… THE FARMER!
Pennywise’s ”Not Far Away” starts playing and The Farmer appears on the entranceway, all ready for a fight. He makes his way to the ring without a hurry, eyeing Silveira up from head to toe. Silveira, standing on the second turnbuckle, likewise returns the favor.
George Cassidy: Look at this! This is ridiculous. The Farmer could TOUCH her if he wanted to right now, standing outside of the ring. That’s how ridiculous this is.
Truth Waters: Well, do you see Amy run there? I don’t think so. Mickey’s gonna underestimate her, and that’s gonna cost him a great deal in this match. Mark my words.
In the ring, referee Joseph Reid quickly pats down both Farmer and Silveira and then has the bell rung to signal the start of the match. Amy Silveira stretches for a bit before she starts to circle The Farmer carefully, who just laughs and cracks his knuckles. As the two get closer, they almost go for a lockup until Farmer stuns Silveira with an audible ”’ey there, pretty lass.” Silveira stops dead in her tracks and turns to referee Reid, as if to make sure she heard Farmer right.
Truth Waters: Look at the balls on this Mickey! He’s engaging Amy in small talk in a WRESTLING MATCH. That shows you just what I was talking about, he isn’t taking this seriously.
George Cassidy: SHOULD HE take this seriously? It’s gonna be over in two minutes, tops.
Reid waves his hands at Silveira to tell her that there’s nothing he can do, and grumbling Silveira turns back to The Farmer. To Farmer’s surprise, Silveira wants a test of strength, and Farmer takes her up with the challenge while smiling in disbelief. For a second, the two stand in the middle of the ring before The Farmer effortlessly flings Amy Silveira to the ground, laughing as she bounces off the canvas and onto her feet.
George Cassidy: This power DISadvantage that Amy Silveira has compared to her opponent is quite saddening, actually.
Silveira doesn’t seem too disheartened with the happenings, and instead steps up to The Farmer again. The two lock up, and again Farmer throws Silveira aside. This time, however, she bounces back up and immediately lunges for Farmer’s legs, latching onto his right knee in an attempted martial arts takedown. The Farmer stands his ground for a moment before he realizes what is happening and starts laughing as he isn’t moving anywhere. From there, Farmer picks Silveira up by her shoulders and throws her across the ring again, to show off his strength advantage again.
George Cassidy: And just like that, The Farmer fights off the takedown attempt from Amy Silveira. She’s gonna have to come up with something different if she wants to win this match, and she’s going to have to do it fast.
Silveira gets up, somewhat slower now, and shakes her head while Farmer laughs on the other side of the ring. This seems to give Amy Silveira some resolve as she runs at Farmer and feints a spear before jumping at his legs again. This time, however, Silveira stands up while holding the right leg of The Farmer and then uses her whole body as a lever to crank Farmer down to the mat with a surprising dragon screw legwhip. As the crowd ooh’s the takedown, Silveira keeps her hold on the leg and latches on with a simple kneebar, nevertheless grounding The Farmer.
Truth Waters: Now look at that! Silveira has been doing her homework for tonight’s match, that’s for sure. I’m surprised, really, she wasn’t supposed to have that much experience.
George Cassidy: Well, that isn’t the fanciest way to take control, but simple and effective nonetheless. Quite a good move from Silveira.
The Farmer suddenly panics as he can’t move from his prone position and begins screaming at Joseph Reid that Silveira is breaking his leg. After a while, The Farmer clears his head enough to realize that he can get out by kicking, and after a few thunderous blows to the head from his free leg Amy Silveira is forced to let go. As she rolls away, The Farmer gets up and hobbles to the ropes, holding his right leg in pain and cursing in a thick Irish accent.
Truth Waters: That simple submission right there might have done more damage than The Farmer expected. He’s not a seasoned wrestler, so even the simplest hold can be effective against him. He also has to deal with limited mobility right now, which can only be good for Silveira.
Amy Silveira doesn’t lay around for long, though, as she immediately runs to The Farmer and attacks him again. Silveira rains heavy martial arts kicks at the leg of Farmer, and he only stays up because he keeps a hold on the ropes. Silveira suddenly busts out a standing dropkick that sends The Farmer bouncing off from the ropes, and as he comes back Silveira drop toe holds him down and straight into an ankle lock, forcing The Farmer into a submission hold yet again.
George Cassidy: Despite her backgroun, Amy Silveira has showcased a very technical wrestling style so far, and it has brought her results. Very intelligent for a first-timer.
Truth Waters: See, I told you. He underestimated her and now he’s gotta pay.
George Cassidy: Just you wait. She’s going to muck it up somehow.
Silveira wraps herself around Farmer’s leg and twists, but this time The Farmer is on it much quicker and starts kicking as soon as he gets the chance. However, because of his position of lying face down on the mat, it takes him a while to get Silveira off, and when he gets up it’s clear that his right leg is hurting. Seeing this, Silveira rushes in for a low dropkick, but The Farmer suddenly sidesteps and in a single move flattens the prone Silveira with a splash.
George Cassidy: See? She bit off more than she could chew. That’s the way it is.
The Farmer smiles and presses Amy Silveira’s shoulders to the mat as she gasps for breath after the violent slam. Joseph Reid kneels down to count.
ONE!
TWO!
Amy Silveira gets her shoulder up from the mat and The Farmer looks rather aggravated. He slowly stands up while Silveira remains on her back, taking deep gulps of breath while Reid quickly checks on her.
Truth Waters: It isn’t pretty, but when you get 230 pounds of man on top of you, it’s effective.
George Cassidy: That is so obvious I’m not even going to honor it with a retort.
The Farmer pulls Amy Silveira up from the mat and hooks her up without much effort. With a single push, The Farmer lifts Silveira up in the air and starts hanging her upside down in a vertical suplex position as the crowd ooh’s his strength.
George Cassidy: Everyone knows that the blood is rushing to her head, so I’m not gonna repeat it for the morons in the audience.
Truth Waters: His delayed vertical suplex is a really powerful move, especially when it has that much power packed behind it. Amy isn’t really looking good right now.
After what feels like an eternity, The Farmer drops back to finish the move. Instead of a regular suplex, however, The Farmer suddenly spikes Silveira’s head into the mat with a brainbuster-type move, and the crowd explodes into noise as she lands awkwardly on her neck.
George Cassidy: Holy hell!
Truth Waters: Mickey decides to play it safe and dumps Amy on her head! That was a nasty shot.
The Farmer gets up, and despite his right leg he starts parading around the ring while Silveira lays on the ground, holding her neck. Joseph Reid checks on Silveira to see if she can continue, and Silveira shakes her head to signal that she won’t quit. After The Farmer finishes his slow parade, he nonchalantly walks over to Amy Silveira and flips her over with his boot, covering her with minimal pressure.
ONE!
TWO!
THR –
Amazingly, Silveira gets her shoulder up from the mat just in the nick of time. The Farmer can’t believe it, and just stands on his knees looking at Joseph Reid while Amy Silveira rolls away, still holding her neck in pain.
Truth Waters: Well, there we go again with him underestimating Silveira’s fighting spirit.
George Cassidy: Maybe we should be a little more lenient with her. Even I’m impressed with her resilience.
The Farmer takes Silveira up by the head again. Silveira fights The Farmer off with a series of quick jabs to the face. Silveira follows this up with a spinning heel kick to the sternum, then delivers a DDT to The Farmer. This time it is The Farmer who is nursing his neck, such was the force of Silveira’s DDT. Silveira wastes no time in pressing home her advantage, heading straight up to the high risk zone.
Truth Waters: Is Amy Silveira crazy doing this? It’s all or nothing!
George Cassidy: Don’t do it, Silveira! She could blow it here and now!
Silveira dives off the top turnbuckle, meeting The Farmer with her patented Thunder Kick to the chin. The kick sends The Farmer sprawling down to the mat below, and he appears to be out cold from the sheer impact of the move. Silveira holds her neck once again, having strained it in the course of hitting the Thunder Kick, but reaches over to cover The Farmer.
George Cassidy: I can’t believe that! The Thunder Kick may have knocked The Farmer out!
Truth Waters: He’s not waking up anytime soon, anyway.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Truth Waters: Amy Silveira has beaten The Farmer in her debut in Atlantic Wrestling Club. What a victory for the young Portuguese starlet.
George Cassidy: I’m actually shocked that Silveira has beaten The Farmer. Maybe these Costa Rican people were shouting at her and telling her what to do.
Truth Waters: If I’m not mistaken, Costa Rica speaks Spanish, not Portuguese. You’re awfully dimwitted sometimes, you know that?
George Cassidy: Instead of criticising my knowledge of countries and languages, how about we turn our attention to the winner of the match?
Amy Silveira celebrates in the ring, bounding around the place like an excited puppy dog. Joseph Reid raises the young woman’s hand in victory, as she stares down at her opponent, The Farmer. Silveira gives The Farmer a cheeky wink, knowing full well that he can neither hear or see her. Silveira heads up the ramp way to applause from the Costa Rican fans.
Truth Waters: Amy Silveira has done herself justice here tonight with a win over The Farmer in her debut. I’m sure it will be one of many to come for this young lady.
George Cassidy: Maybe she’d like to win me sometime…
Truth Waters: You’re unbelievable!
George Cassidy: Amy Silveira may have won this one, Truth, but just how much damage was done to her neck? I mean, it could be irreparable.
Truth Waters: I don't even want to watch the replay of that sickening move performed by The Farmer. Does that man have any idea that he could easily have shattered her neck?
George Cassidy: He probably does, but I wouldn't be surprised if Silveira's feeling that neck pain for a long time to come.
A Post-Match Encounter
FEATURING: HUGO SILVEIRA, AMY SILVEIRA AND "THE FARMER" MICKEY FITZ-MCCARTHY
AUTHOR: DAVID "DJ" HEDLEY AND YRAN
The camera cuts to the backstage curtain as The Farmer makes his way to his locker room after his hard-fought match against Amy Silveira. Mickey is walking down the corridor, sweat rolling down his toned body when he hears a voice behind him, which had also emerged from the ring.
Hugo Silveira: Hey, Farmboy!
The voice of Hugo Silveira: causes Mickey to stop and turn around. The Farmer looks a little sceptical as he has just competed against his daughter. The Farmer merely nods, refusing to talk to Hugo.
Hugo Silveira: What were you playing at in there? You jus…
Hugo is interrupted by hearing his daughter approaching behind him, also from the ring. The Farmer's face is awash with confusion. Hugo Silveira:'s face is quickly turning red. Amy can be seen holding her neck, not looking a mess but seeming a little 'untidy'. Hugo turns, addressing her instantly.
Hugo Silveira: Amy, go to the nurse! Get your neck checked…
Amy looks to protest.
Hugo Silveira: Amy, just do it!
The raised tone in Hugo's voice, which Amy doesn't seem to be used to, makes her react and head down a different corridor. Hugo looks back to a waiting McCarthy.
Hugo Silveira: What are you trying to do, Farmboy?
Mickey shrugs, still looking confused, but knowing that it is related to her neck.
Hugo Silveira:: You trying to break my girl’s neck with that brainbuster of yours?
Mickey shakes his head.
The Farmer: What de feck are ye talkin’ about?
Hugo Silveira:: You're little brainbuster. You landed it on my little girl's neck.
Mickey smiles a smile of realisation. It was an honest mistake through wrestling inexperience, but he is being called up on it.
Hugo Silveira:: Don’t smile at me, Irish peasant!
And the smile on Mickey's face is gone.
Hugo Silveira:: Watch yourself…
Hugo’s face is still red, as he is clearly angry and possibly even concerned. He turns around and walks off following the direction of his daughter. The Farmer stands in his wake, in shock and disbelief at the probably over-reaction.
Andy Murray vs Gabriel
STIPULATION: SINGLES
REFEREE: AARON DAVIES
AUTHOR: ERIC HALLORAN JR.
He who makes a beast out of himself, gets rid of the pain of being a man…
The lights in the arena dim as the intro to Avenged Sevenfold’s “Bat Country” begins to play out across the arena. With a burst of pyro at the top of the ramp, the song kicks in and the lights flash on, as Andy Murray steps out from the back, lapping up the crowd’s cheers. He pauses at the top of the ramp, takes a good look around the arena, and lifts an arm in the air in jubilance, before making his way down the ramp.
Caught here in a fiery blaze, won't lose my will to stay, these eyes won't see the same, after I flip today. James Brunt: Making his way to the ring, from Aberdeen, Scotland, he is the “Scottish King of Cool”… ANDY MURRAY!
On his way down to the ring, Andy slaps hands with a couple of the fans, before finally reaching the bottom of the ramp, and leaping up onto the outside of the ring. Facing the entrance, he raises an arm up in the air once again, as white pyros ignite from the ring posts behind him.
I tried to drive all through the night, the heart stroke ridden weather, the barren empty sights… No oasis here to see, the sand is singing deathless words to me.
As the fireworks die down a little, Andy enters the ring between the middle and top ropes and paces across the ring, throwing both arms into the air for the fans at the other side.
Can’t you help me as I’m startin’ to burn? Too many doses and I’m startin’ to get an attraction. My confidence is leavin’ me on my own, too late to save me and you know I don’t want the attention.
Finally, the music begins to die down, as Andy stands in the centre of the ring, ready to go.
James Brunt: This is a singles match to be decided by… ONE FALL! Tonight’s first participant, already in the ring…hailing from Aberdeen, Scotland…weighing in at two-hundred, seventy pounds, he is ANDY MURRAY!
The Six-Foot-Seven Scot pumps his fists in the air, psyching himself up. It was clear that he was excited to be back in the ring from the energy he was exuded, running from one rope to the next.
James Brunt: And next, hailing from Brooklyn, New York…weighing in at two-hundred, thirty-five pounds…here is “The Angel of Death”, GABRIEL!
The lights dim ...and blue lights are flashed around the arena. The start of "Rape me" by Nirvana then hits. Gabriel walks out onto the stage dressed all in black with a hood over his head. His features arent visible in the darkness, and the crowd boos out vehemently. His black coat trails all the way down to the floor as he makes his way down the ramp. He then enters the ring and pulls his hood down...the lights turn back to normal as he stares down at Andy Murray.
The bell rings, and this match is underway.
Truth Waters: I think it’s safe for me to say, that tonight is one of the most exciting nights of wrestling we’ve had in AWC since the beginning… so many new faces, so much new talent to showcase! Hardly any of that soap opera B.S. to boot!
George Cassidy: You know, that stuff is interesting too.
Andy Murray and Gabriel meet head on in the middle of the ring. The new addition to AWC, Murray excitedly meets Gabriel with a few close handed slams to the head, sending Gabriel down to the mat. Gabriel pops up with speed, only to be pushed down again by the sheer force of Murray’s will. The crowd cheers along with the action, excited to see a pure display of energy. Gabriel stands up a third time, even more frustrated as he rushes headlong into his opponent, only to be met with a HUGE Big Boot. Gabriel is sent flying, landing hard on his back on the mat.
Truth Waters: And the offense surely is on the side of the newcomer, Andy Murray. His impressive size and energy sure has gotten the crowd behind him tonight.
Gabriel takes a powder to the outside, which the crowd lets him know is unfavorable as they jeer. Gabriel takes no notice, as he works out his frustration over not being able to get in any offense yet, this early in the match. Referee Aaron Davies begins to count the “Angel Of Death” out…
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
FOUR!
George Cassidy: Gabriel’s not the type of guy to let himself get stuck too early on, though, Truth. This is a nominal start, for sure.
Truth Waters: I think it’s cowardly to get out of the ring like that, I’ve never liked it, never will. You’re in the match for a reason, and that’s to wrestle. Take your beating if you can’t dish one of your own out!
Tired of waiting for his opponent, Andy Murray climbs underneath the ropes to chase after Gabriel. Avoiding confrontation for the moment, Gabriel dives back in the ring underneath the ropes. Andy Murray ceases the count, and would begin to start a new one, but Murray follows Gabriel’s actions to the T, rolling in from under the ropes. Gabriel takes the opportunity to lay some hard toe kicks into the back of his opponent, who attempts to rise to his feet through the stomping.
George Cassidy: So, you really like watching all these new guys wrestle? Don’t you miss any of our veterans, even a little bit?
Truth Waters: Come on, now Cassidy. You know I appreciate all good wrestling. A lot of our veterans have already had quite a number of showcases for their talent. Besides, later on tonight we’ll be seeing Crimson O’Malec back in action! I’m excited to see that.
George Cassidy: Uh huh. Yah, it’ll be interesting to see the fallout from his arrest two weeks ago.
Truth Waters: I think it’ll be INTERESTING to see the Alliance Champions in action against the Academy. That’s what I’m waiting for.
Gabriel grabs the dazed opponent as he rises to his feet, grabbing him in a Belly-to-Belly hold. Andy Murray attempts to break the hold, but Gabriel angrily flings aside the larger man with a Belly-To-Belly side-slam. Andy Murray holds his back in pain. Gabriel points out his target, Murray’s head, and drops himself to the mat, slamming his elbow into Murray’s head.
George Cassidy: So, but you don’t care that Lavelle’s not in action tonight? Ellis Nash? ALEX STRIDER?
Truth Waters: We’ll be seeing those two in action soon enough. And for your information, no, I really don’t care that Alex Strider isn’t here tonight. I don’t like him, I don’t like his tactics, and I don’t like what he stands for.
Gabriel drops another elbow across Murray’s head. Gabriel drops down for a count, hooking a leg… Ref Davies slams his hand down on the mat, beginning the count…
ONE!
Murray kicks out emphatically. Gabriel hops to his feet, waiting for his opponent to meet him standing up. Murray rises to his feet as fast as the pain in the small of his back will let him, and is met with an open hand to the chest by Gabriel. A loud SMACK is heard all around the arena, and the crowd “Oohs!”
George Cassidy: Now you’re just being a jerk. Even you have to admit that Strider’s great to watch in the ring.
Murray responds with a hard slap across Gabriel’s chest. The crowd “Oohs!” along with the trades of smacks, and red welts visibly begin to appear on each of the men’s chests. Murray finally gets the upper hand, as Gabriel finally has had enough of the pain, and turns around to avoid another smack.
Truth Waters: He wasn’t that great last week.
George Cassidy: What are you TALKING about? Just because he LOST? The man broke his nose! It was still a good match. Ellis was on her A Game, she’s prime A material! She’s got great legs! He still wrestled hard!
Truth Waters: And he lost. He’s done better, and you know that, Cassidy.
Murray grapples Gabriel from behind, lifting him up in the air before bringing him down to the mat with a Back-Slam. Murray isn’t finished with the offense, as he pulls Gabriel to his feet. Gabriel smacks Murray’s hands away, readying himself for the offensive Strider.
George Cassidy: I wouldn’t count him out just because of that.
Gabriel knocks a reinforced elbow across Murray’s face, and grapples his taller opponent. Quickly maneuvering himself behind his foe, Gabriel locks in a Half Nelson…
George Cassidy: Nice half nelson applied by “The Angel of Death”.
Truth Waters: Face is, Cassidy, Strider’s slipping! He’s been beaten by Lavelle, and now Ellis Nash. He started off as the champion, and now he’s not even the top contender for the belt! What does that tell you? Strider should stop being such a dick and just concentrate on wrestling his matches the way he did when he first stepped foot in the AWC. Who knows? Maybe we could be seeing the next Alex Strider or Pierce Lavelle in action tonight?
Inside the ring, Gabriel still has his half nelson firmly held in strong, but that isn’t good enough for Gabriel. Gabriel is attempting to adjust himself to slam Murray backwards, but can’t quite get the strength to toss his opponent overhead. Murray lifts a leg, blocking the last attempt. Set loose from the half-nelson lock, Murray Tilt-A-Whirl clotheslines around him, sending Gabriel knocked back into the ropes.
George Cassidy: I’d like to see more of Ellis Nash though. Meee-Owww!
Truth Waters: Well, she’s got her title match coming up against Pierce Lavelle. Pierce will have to overcome some adversity to retain his title against a woman on such a hot streak as Ellis Nash.
Rebounding off of the ropes, Gabriel is sent back dazed into the waiting arms of his opponent. Murray quickly grapples Gabriel, lifting his opponent in the air with the help of momentum.
Truth Waters: Military Press here… Gabriel’s being held about 9 feet off of the ring…
Murray presses Gabriel up and off. Gabriel comes screaming down to the mat, face first.
George Cassidy: Here’s a cover now…
ONE!
TWO!
Referee Davies notices that Gabriel has lifted a leg onto the bottom rope, and ceases the count.
Truth Waters: Two count there, close to the end for Gabriel.
George Cassidy: Smart wrestling, gotta love that.
Gabriel and Murray rise to their feet. Gabriel strikes at Murray. Murray responds with a strike of his own. Gabriel sends a kick at Murray. Murray catches the boot in his under-arm. Moving quickly, Murray pulls Gabriel in with his leg, and grasps his opponent from around his neck. Murray tosses Gabriel overhead with a modified Fisherman’s Suplex.
Truth Waters: Some VERY NICE suplexes in this match…There’s the technical skill you’ve been asking me about, Cassidy. Doesn’t have to come from an established AWC star for me to appreciate it.
George Cassidy: Bah.
Gabriel is back up to his feet, rolling with the suplex as best he can, though the wear of the match is beginning to show on his feet and in his step. Murray rushes over to meet Gabriel with a RUNNING BIG BOOT…
But Gabriel pulls the top rope down, dodging the kick. Murray is hung by his crotch on the top rope.
George Cassidy: Hung out to dry by his nuts. Murray’s in a world of hurt, unless he’s a eunuch. In which case, he’s just hung out on the ropes.
Gabriel jumps to the second rope, rebounding off with a one legged jumping kick to Murray’s head. Murray goes tumbling off the ropes to the outside, falling with a thud. His head doesn’t seem to be bothering him as much as his testicles, which he holds as he lays on the ground.
Truth Waters: I doubt he’s a eunuch. Look at his face, his balls are obviously in pain. Damn.
Gabriel climbs out to the ring apron to look down at his fallen opponent. He leaps up to the second rope, SPRINGBOARD MOONSAULT down to the mat, landing perpendicularly across Murray on the outside…
Davies begins to count both men out…
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
FOUR!
Gabriel is quicker to rise than his opponent. Pausing for a moment, Gabriel contemplates just ducking inside the ring to take a possible count out victory. Deciding against it, he pulls Murray to his feet, and pushes him under the ropes. Gabriel follows quickly, looking to capitalize.
Gabriel pulls Murray to his feet… Gabriel locks in a side headlock.
Truth Waters: Murray powers out of the side headlock…
Murray headbutts Gabriel hard across the forehead. His opponent dazed for the moment, Murray moves quickly, angry from the embarrassing nut shot he took from the ropes. Applying his own front headlock, the crowd cheers. Murray raises Gabriel high above him in a vertical suplex…
George Cassidy: What’s this then?
Murray SLAMS Gabriel to the mat from out of nowhere with a Side-Brainbuster…”The Highland Hangover”…
Truth Waters: It’s all academic from there…
Murray covers his opponent, hooking a leg. The crowd cheers on from the surprising show of power.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Truth Waters: And Andy Murray picks up his first win in AWC here tonight against a Gabriel, who performed his best.
Make Up The Breakdown
FEATURING: TIM SHIPLEY, PIERCE LAVELLE
AUTHOR: PIERRE HYDE
The noise of a power shower comes to an end as the camera pans away from the white curtain separating the viewers from the person inside. The shower curtain is partly brushed aside as an arm shoots out to grab a plush towel from the rail on the white-tiled wall. A few moments later, Tim Shipley emerges from the shower, dripping, with a towel around his waist. His short straw-coloured hair has turned dark with its state of saturation, and the sight of water running down his impressive torso is enough to elicit some whistles from the female members of the Costa Rica crowd.
Voice: Tim?
Tim Shipley: Yeah, I’m finished...
Shipley comes through into the adjoining dressing room to meet his tag partner, the ladies’ favourite Pierce Lavelle, AWC’s Transatlantic champion, who is attired in his royal blue tights ready for the main event.
Pierce Lavelle: Are you OK?
Shipley sighs and then nods.
Tim Shipley: Yeah, I’m fine. Someone’s playing games... some seriously sick games... but they’re not going to get the better of me.
Lavelle nods, satisfied, and tosses Shipley his white ring tights.
Pierce Lavelle: You’re going to have to hurry –
Shipley’s eyes widen.
Tim Shipley: What time is it? I’ve lost track...
Lavelle shakes his head hurriedly.
Pierce Lavelle: No, there’s plenty of time, don’t worry, I didn’t mean to worry you –
Tim Shipley: I can’t – I can’t just go out there and wrestle!
Shipley sits down on the bench alongside Lavelle, his head in his hands. Lavelle stares at him.
Pierce Lavelle: You’re not going to wrestle?
Tim Shipley: How can I?
Shipley looks up at him.
Tim Shipley: Every moment of my existence here is plagued by some sick, sick person insistent on bringing up Tony at every possible moment. Every twist and turn of my tiny little career in AWC is being defined by this one person whose agenda, whose identity I don’t even know!
Pierce Lavelle: It’s gotta be Core, Tim...
Shipley shakes his head.
Tim Shipley: I don’t know... they’re touring the US. Who’s going to fly out here to Costa Rica, and Honduras last week, just to haunt me with the past?
Lavelle considers.
Pierce Lavelle: Well, there’s Jack Diamond, he hasn’t been at PRIDE recently –
Tim Shipley: Oh, so Diamond has something against me now too?! Well that’s just great, the whole world’s against me, the whole world hates me –
Shipley gets to his feet, but Lavelle interrupts.
Pierce Lavelle: Don’t be stupid, Tim. That isn’t true.
Shipley whirls around, raising his voice at his fellow Academy member.
Tim Shipley: Then tell me why, Pierce. Why is all this happening to me? I should never have come back to wrestling...
Shipley throws himself to the floor and lies there flat-out. Lavelle sighs.
Pierce Lavelle: I understand, Tim, but we’ve still gotta compete tonight. We need to get our career as a duo off to a good start against the Alliance champions Emerald Isle – and besides, we’re contractually obliged –
Shipley sits up suddenly.
Tim Shipley: So that’s all this is to you? A contract? I live for this. Wrestling and college. That’s it for me!
Pierce Lavelle: But –
Tim Shipley: Tony died! He was killed because of this game! Sure, he didn’t die in the ring, whatever, but he would have done! He loved the sport, just like me, and if you don’t share that view, then I suggest you just leave!
Lavelle stares at him in shock. Shipley groans and returns to prone, shaking his head and massaging it with both hands.
Tim Shipley: (in a low voice) I didn’t mean that...
Pierce Lavelle: If that’s how you feel...
Tim Shipley: No, I didn’t. What I just said was bullshit. Tony didn’t live for this game. He had so much else going for him. Wrestling was more than a job and money in the bank, granted, but he could have lived without it. (with horror) I was just using him to make a point! God! What has happened to me?!
Shipley stands and backs up against the wall, still with a shocked expression on his face.
Tim Shipley: How could I do that? How could I be so disrespectful to his memory?
Lavelle rises.
Pierce Lavelle: Tim...
Tim Shipley: Just leave it, Pierce. Just don’t worry about me. It’s my problem. Let me sort it.
Pierce Lavelle: Perhaps you need to talk to someone...
Tim Shipley: I need counselling? Is that it?
Pierce Lavelle: Tim, no matter what you think about me tonight, I have lived for wrestling since high school. Since I was kid I have been in and out of a ring; granted, it was a different style, but this is what I am. You can sit there and think otherwise, sure, but tonight you're not alone. I will be here for support, Tim. Whether you need it or not. I don't think I deserve to play second fiddle to your problems, I didn't ask for you to bring up –
Shipley sighs and looks up at the ceiling.
Tim Shipley: Pierce, I’m going to say this one more time. Just leave me be. We’re just partners, OK? You don’t know me. Not well, anyway. Not like – not like T –
Pierce Lavelle: Don’t say it.
Shipley collapses to the floor, his head once more in his hands, as Lavelle crouches down to comfort him. After a few seconds, he begins to speak to him quietly.
Pierce Lavelle: So what’s the story, Tim? Forget the past; forget the future. What are you going to do now? What are we going to do tonight?
Shipley exhales deeply.
Tim Shipley: I’ve said what I needed to say. I’ve remembered what I needed to remember. I’ve felt what I needed to feel. I can wrestle. I will wrestle. I’ll be fine, Pierce – we’ll be fine – The Academy will be fine.
The Transatlantic champion nods, and rises to his feet in silence, giving Shipley a hand up.
Pierce Lavelle: Just so long as you’re sure.
Shipley pauses before swallowing and giving his answer.
Tim Shipley: I’m sure.
London Calling!
FEATURING: MADDY ESTELLE
AUTHOR: DAVE LARKIN
Tonight’s Fresh! broadcast is interrupted as “Live from London” appears in a window at the top right hand corner of the screen. The screen itself remains black for a few moments, before AWC interviewer Maddy Estelle’s face prompts the fans to hoot and whistle at the attractive young woman. Estelle seems completely unprepared, but feigns her best professional face as she only now realises the cameras are rolling. Composing herself, Estelle looks behind her and clears her throat.
Maddy Estelle: Good evening, AWC! I´m Maddy Estelle and I´m here live in the capital of England, London, with an announcement to make!
The fans react positively to news of an announcement. Estelle winks at a Londoner who walks past her, and the cheeky Cockney slaps Estelle´s butt on the way by. Startled and embarassed, Estelle continues.
Maddy Estelle: Pfft, London men. I don’t think any of them have manners. Anyway, back to business.
Just as Estelle prepares to continue, a rowdy Londoner once again interferes, shouting and yelling at the top of his voice.
Londoner: Oi, gorgeous! Get ova here and gimme a kiss, will ya. I’m starving for some action, roight!
The Londoner steps in front of Estelle, forcing himself on her playfully with a kiss on the cheek. The rather tubby man is wearing an Arsenal Football Club shirt, and is chewing gleefully on a kebab. He pushes Estelle aside and relishes his moment in the spotlight.
Londoner: I’m the most handsome geezer here in London, mate! Arsenal are gonna win the Premiership this season, I can feel it!
Estelle manages to move the tubby Arsenal fan out of the way, and finally seems to be poised to make her announcement. She is a woman with a temper now, as she yells at the Londoner to leave her alone.
Maddy Estelle: I wanna get out of this hellhole desperately, so I’ll just spit it out! AWC’s next pay-per-view extravaganza will be live from London, England. Fans explode at the mention of AWC’s next pay-per-view. Maddy Estelle: It will be called The Battle Of Britain, and it will be held live in Earl’s Court! As long as there are no people like him at the event, we should be all fine.
Estelle puts on the fakest smile in history, as the Londoner tries to feel her bottom. Disgusted, but aware that any resistance would be futile, Estelle finishes up.
Maddy Estelle: Thank you very much for your attention. I’m Maddy Estelle, reporting from London, England!
The Arsenal fan advances on Estelle and chases her down the street with the cameraman in tow as the screen fades to black.
Mike Wade vs Kuff McSlade
STIPULATION: SINGLES
REFEREE: LARS LARSSON
AUTHOR: PIERRE HYDE
Truth Waters: Well, what about that! AWC is going to London, baby!
George Cassidy: Ugh. Dirty, smelly and crowded.
Truth Waters: Oh, forget it. Up next we have Mike Wade against Kuff McSlade. That’s got a nice ring to it.
George Cassidy: Yeah, just what I thought...
The lights dim to darkness. “Come With Me” by Puff Daddy blasts over the PA system. Once the song kicks in, red pyros explode, shooting in an X fashion over the ramp.
James Brunt: The following is a singles match.
Kuff McSlade appears through the smoke, followed by Sean Quinn and Bostwhick.
James Brunt: Introducing first, being accompanied to the ring by Sean Quinn and Bostwhick, from Atlanta, Georgia, weighing in at 287 pounds... “The Mecca” KUFF McSLADE!
The three walk slowly to the ring, Kuff nodding to a few of the fans. He climbs onto the ring and steps over the rope.
Truth Waters: The veteran is looking confident. Let’s hope he can wipe the smirk off Mike Wade’s face.
House Of Pain’s “Jump Around” begins to play, and a decent-sized chunk of the 4000 fans squeezed into the Tennis Country Club begin to boo heavily, disliking Wade intensely after his first appearance on AWC television last week.
George Cassidy: These fans either have really good memories, stretching back to PCW, NTICW and PRIME, or he genuinely offended them last week.
Mike Wade appears and comes down to the ring with a big smile on his face.
James Brunt: And his opponent, weighing in at 209 and three-quarters pounds... “His Swerviness” MIKE WADE!
George Cassidy: SWERVE~!
Truth Waters: Yes, yes, Cassidy.
Wade climbs into the ring and McSlade is on him at once, dropping a knee to the back of the ribcage. Wade is knocked flat to the mat, and McSlade profits with a couple of stomps to the head as the bell rings for the match to begin.
Truth Waters: Kuff McSlade is wasting no time in exerting his authority on Mike Wade. He’s got a big weight advantage in this match.
Lars Larsson, having recovered from his earlier choke slam at the hands of Jonny Sake, has a quick word with McSlade, encouraging him to allow Wade to get up. McSlade takes no notice, but nevertheless relents for a second, allowing Wade onto one knee, before kicking him lazily in the side of the head. Sake sways, but manages to stand, only to receive a hard side snap kick to the ribs from The Mecca. Sake cries out and drops to his hands and knees.
George Cassidy: Wade isn’t being given a chance.
Truth Waters: McSlade is using his martial arts abilities. He’s got such a varied, powerful offence –
George Cassidy: So you always say.
Truth Waters: Well, he is my –
George Cassidy: Favourite wrestler, yeah. We know.
McSlade pulls Wade back up and drops him to the mat with a faceplant DDT. He hooks the leg:
ONE!
TWO!
Wade kicks out on the second count.
George Cassidy: McSlade looked for an early pin, but Wade matched him with an easy kickout.
McSlade pulls Wade back to his feet and ties up.
Truth Waters: The Mecca is easily retaining control of this match.
McSlade knees Wade in the gut and looks for a swinging neckbreaker, but to some boos, Wade jabs him hard in the stomach and slaps the bigger man around the face.
George Cassidy: Mike Wade finally gets in some offence!
Wade follows up with a jab kick to the abdomen and hits a stiff neckbreaker; McSlade’s head bounces up off the mat and he slumps onto his back.
George Cassidy: Nice neckbreaker, and the pinfall...
ONE!
TW-
McSlade breaks it.
Truth Waters: Lars Larsson only gets to the second count as McSlade escapes.
Wade now works McSlade towards the corner with a few right hands. Noticing that he is in trouble, McSlade manages to block the next attempted punch before landing a left hook of his own. Wade staggers, and McSlade plants his right boot on the second turnbuckle before launching himself at Wade with a cross body block.
Truth Waters: All 287 pounds of Kuff McSlade coming down off the second rope there.
ONE!
TWO!
Wade kicks out.
George Cassidy: Mike Wade is not allowing McSlade an easy victory here.
A touch annoyed, but controlling himself, McSlade grabs Wade and Irish-whips him to the ropes. Wade rebounds into a raised boot from McSlade, its power reversing Wade’s momentum and making him fall backwards.
Truth Waters: Power Of The Dollar!
George Cassidy: I have to say, that was one HUGE boot to Mike Wade’s chest.
Truth Waters: McSlade has phenomenal power in his legs.
McSlade drops quickly to his knees and uses a lateral press.
ONE!
TWO!
Wade again escapes the pin.
George Cassidy: He was right by the ropes then, so McSlade was clever to hold the arms down as he could have just reached out and grabbed the bottom rope.
Truth Waters: Unfortunately, it was only a two-count anyway.
McSlade gives Wade a couple of kicks to the ribs as he comes to his feet.
Truth Waters: McSlade seems to be concentrating his attacks on Wade’s torso.
George Cassidy: Perhaps he wants to minimise the chances of Wade taking a risk from the top rope with one of those body splash manoeuvres.
Truth Waters: But would Wade even realise how much more danger he’d be putting himself in?
George Cassidy: Hey. He’s not stupid.
The Mecca looks for a mid kick, but Wade, prepared, manages to block and grab hold of the leg. Twisting it round, he causes McSlade to face away from him, hopping on one foot.
Truth Waters: McSlade is scrambling to keep his balance.
With a shout, Wade thrusts the leg up and away from him as powerfully as he can, but McSlade, rather than just dropping to the mat, is able to roll into a standing position. Wade may have anticipated this, as he is already running by the time The Mecca rights himself, and now His Swerviness dropkicks McSlade’s legs out!
George Cassidy: Running dropkick to the knees.
Truth Waters: McSlade drops forward.
Knowing he does not have much time, Wade quickly ascends the turnbuckle, and there is barely time for a roar of anticipation from the crowd before McSlade rolls onto his front and Wade flips himself over in the air, landing an immense 450 splash!
George Cassidy: FOUR-FIFTY!
Truth Waters: High risk paid off!
Having rolled off McSlade’s body with the impact, Wade ignores the pain in him to crawl back on top of it and hook the leg.
George Cassidy: This could be the end.
Lars Larsson drops to make the count:
ONE!
TWO!
THR-
Truth Waters: Kickout!
The crowd are now on their feet, with a feverish atmosphere among the fans in the Tennis Country Club.
Truth Waters: Despite the entertainment that Wade provides with his high-flying, risky antics, the majority is willing McSlade to regain control of this match.
Both men get slowly to their feet, Wade caressing his chest.
George Cassidy: Wade does look like he’s having problems with his ribcage, as we mooted earlier might be the aim of Kuff McSlade’s work.
McSlade comes up to Wade and locks up, launching him into the air with a vertical suplex. However, Wade manages to slip out of his grasp in mid-air. As he hands, McSlade turns to face him in a fury, and Wade kicks him in the gut.
Truth Waters: Wade wriggled out of the suplex...
George Cassidy: And I know what’s coming!
Wade hooks McSlade’s arms and leans backwards, planting The Mecca’s head into the mat with a double underhook driver!
George Cassidy: THE TEE EFF DUBBAYOU!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
George Cassidy: It’s finished! Wade with a swift pin after the TFW driver, and he wins his debut match.
Wade jumps to his feet and celebrates.
James Brunt: The winner... “His Swerviness” MIKE WADE!
Truth Waters: Kuff McSlade with a second unlucky loss. Hopefully next week he’ll achieve his first victory in AWC.
Sean Quinn slides into the ring and hauls his friend and former tag partner in Project X, Kuff McSlade, to his feet with a commiserative smile.
George Cassidy: Let’s just face it, Truth, I can pick ‘em better. Strider – former Transatlantic champion. Ellis Nash – number one contender. The Educator – double champion –
Truth Waters: Er, Cassidy? Nathan Benedict.
Lavatory Robbery
FEATURING: KRIS KRIMZON, THE EDUCATOR
AUTHORS: KERRY RITTER AND LEON CRUISEY
Backstage, The Educator, baring both the Frontier and Livewire championships on his shoulders proudly. The room he is in is empty of any man or woman, with the exception of his being of course. The room is obviously a men’s restroom due to the fact that the room holds urinals as well as stalls. The Educator clears his throat and steps into the stall.
George Cassidy: Why are we watching The Educator take a shit?
Truth Waters: Who knows, but if there are any grunts or groans, they better cut the feed...
A split second after Educator entered the stall, Kris Krimzon pops up from the one next to it, leaning over the wall between to two stalls. He instantly looks away, grimacing. Then in one very unsubtle move, Kris lunges inside the stall, yelling crazily, followed by Educator’s screams. Kris then emerges with the Frontier title in hand.
Kris Krimzon: (yelling) I GOT IT~! I GOT IT~!
The Educator: (muffled) WHAT THE HELL!?
Kris opens his stall door and runs out of it quickly, the Frontier title in his hands. The Educator opens his stall door and wobbles out, his pants not fully up. He attempts to chase his former partner, but stumbles to delight of the crowd.
George Cassidy: HEY! He can’t do that! This is a robbery! An unfair robbery I tell you!
Truth Waters: Oh shut up… Kris, get runnin’ boy!
The Academy vs Emerald Isle
STIPULATION: TANDEM TAG TEAM MATCH
REFEREE: MICHAEL RYAN
AUTHOR: DAVE LARKIN
Truth Waters: After a night made up of completely unpredictable and awesome matches, we’ve at last reached the main event of this evening. It’s the first time Pierce Lavelle, the AWC Transatlantic champion, will team up with his new tag team partner, Tim Shipley. Their opponents, you ask? The recently crowned Alliance champions, Emerald Isle.
George Cassidy: This match is significant for both teams. Imagine the embarrassment Emerald Isle would face if they lost to a rookie team. On the other hand, Shipley and Lavelle could realise that this “Academy”, as they call it, might never work. The way I see it, they’re destined for disaster no matter what happens.
Truth Waters: Ever the optimist, eh, Cassidy?
George Cassidy: I like to think so, yes.
Truth Waters: Both teams have done intense preparation during the week leading up to this match. The Alliance championship is not on the line in this match, by the way. However, it will be a great main event to finish off a night of action like we’ve never seen before in AWC.
George Cassidy: I’m not so sure about that, Truth. The debutants weren’t that impressive.
Truth Waters: James Brunt is waiting in the ring. Let’s go down to him now!
George Cassidy: Geez, calm down.
The handsome Englishman, famous for his TOP HAT O’ DOOM~!, stands proudly in the ring. A few women in the crowd begin to wolf whistle and hoot at Brunt, who blushes at the attention from the opposite sex, something he is not accustomed to.
James Brunt: The following contest is a tandem tag team match and it is scheduled for one fall!
The opening chords of “Stockholm Syndrome” by Muse plays around the arena, and the fans come to their feet in unison to welcome the sparkling duo of the Transatlantic champion Pierce Lavelle and his partner, “Summer’s Son” Tim Shipley. After a few seconds, Lavelle emerges, championship raised above his head. Shipley follows behind Lavelle, looking apprehensive about his return match. The duo enter the ring brimming with confidence. Shipley and Lavelle scale turnbuckles and receive a wonderful ovation from the fans.
James Brunt: Introducing first, from Milton Keynes, England, and Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, respectively… “Summer’s Son” TIM SHIPLEY and the AWC Transatlantic champion, PIERCE LAVELLE!
There are massive cheers all over the arena for The Academy. Lavelle and Shipley shake hands as they talk strategy before their opponents arrive. Mentally, The Academy couldn’t be more ready, it appears.
Truth Waters: A great reaction for The Academy here tonight, it has to be said. They’re certainly popular with the fans. Then again, it is the team of arguably the most popular wrestler in the AWC, Pierce Lavelle, and the innovative youngster, Tim Shipley.
George Cassidy: Oh puh-lease, Truth. Why do you dump praise on these two like they’re gods or something? It’s their very first match as a team! What makes you think they can overturn… (sighs) Emerald Isle? I’m not fond of them either, but anything’s better than The Academy. They’re nothing but pretenders to the crown and a temporary outfit who will achieve nothing.
Truth Waters: Wow, you like to blab on, don’t you? I suggest you give them a chance before judging them, Cassidy.
George Cassidy: Give them a chance? Heh, I don’t usually do that. But since you asked so nicely, why not? Who knows, it could end up being hilarious. Shipley might poo in his pants during the course of the match – he’s a nervy one, you know.
Truth Waters: That’s just… horrible.
The call of the uilean pipes booms from the speakers and fills the arena in a short solo of beautiful intent. As the crowd look on in awe, the video screen slowly fades from black into the flag of Ireland - the green, white and gold of the tri-colour, rippling in the wind.
The spotlights suddenly pan down to the entrance, just as the uilean pipes are replaced by "Raggle Taggle Gypsy" by Christy Moore. The roar of an engine is heard, just before a mobile home emerges, being driven by Paddy O'Shea, who has a somewhat unnerving smile affixed to his weather-torn face. Beside him is his tag team partner, Crimson O’Malec, who has his Alliance championship draped over his shoulder. The mobile home comes to a halt, and the team of Paddy O’Shea and Crimson O’Malec, better known as Emerald Isle, emerge. Both have beaming smiles on their faces. The fans in attendance give the Alliance champions a raucous reception.
James Brunt: And their opponents, from Galway, Ireland, and Daytona Beach, Florida, respectively… they are the AWC Alliance champions, PADDY O’SHEA AND CRIMSON O’MALEC!
O’Shea and O’Malec wave to the fans as they approach the ring. Lavelle and Shipley back off to allow the champions to enter the ring. O’Shea and O’Malec play to the fans, with O’Shea doing a quick Irish dance in the middle of the ring. The crowd, amused by this, begin to laugh and clap along with O’Shea and O’Malec. Shipley and Lavelle look on at the display, but seem to be itching to get the match underway.
Truth Waters: I’m a fan of Irish dancing and tradition, but this is a wrestling match. Come on guys, let’s get down to it.
George Cassidy: Shush! They’re just getting to the good bit.
O’Shea and O’Malec go for the big finale and receive a standing ovation from the crowd, who appreciate their dancing skills. The bell rings at last to begin the match, and all four men enter the ring. O’Malec and Lavelle close in on each other, as do O’Shea and Shipley. The crowd are not sure which team to support, so they remain quite silent.
Truth Waters: Whoa, the crowd are suddenly dead.
George Cassidy: They’ve probably just realised that Tim Shipley is in the ring. Give them a few moments to calm down.
Truth Waters: Of course, this is a tandem tag match, so there are no tags. This type of stipulation may benefit The Academy more so than the Alliance champions. Emerald Isle are more used to tag team matches, but with all four men in the ring at the same time, it may be more difficult to operate.
George Cassidy: Well said, Truth. However, I would hope that The Academy find it hard to operate. Diabolical, aren’t I?
Truth Waters: To an almost frightening degree, yes.
George Cassidy: It’s how it should be.
All hell breaks loose suddenly, as Lavelle and O’Malec exchange blows in the middle of the ring. This act prompts Shipley and O’Shea to do the same, but Shipley’s technical mind goes for another option. Shipley catches O’Shea off guard with a drop toehold and delivers a leg drop across the back of his neck. Meanwhile, Lavelle clotheslines O’Malec out of the ring to a big pop from the crowd. Lavelle feeds off the crowd’s encouragement and baseball slides O’Malec into the barricade. Shipley scales the second turnbuckle, and adding to his team’s already effective momentum, delivers a dropkick to the oncoming O’Shea.
Truth Waters: Shipley takes O’Shea down with a dropkick, and The Academy are off to a flying start!
George Cassidy: I was afraid this was going to happen.
Lavelle delivers right hands to O’Malec, then knife-edge chops which echo throughout the arena. O’Malec fights back with some knife-edge chops of his own, but Lavelle hits a kick to the sternum and rolls O’Malec back into the ring. Shipley and Lavelle concentrate on O’Malec now, lifting him up to his feet and whipping him off the ropes. The duo take O’Malec down to the mat with a double hip toss to applause. O’Shea surprises Lavelle from behind with a reverse DDT, then eliminates the threat from Lavelle by throwing him over the top rope to the outside.
Truth Waters: Emerald Isle have clearly been taken off guard in the opening stages of this match, Cassidy. They may have some breathing space here, though.
George Cassidy: That’s right. Paddy O’Shea just got rid of Lavelle; now is the time to whack that college kid, Shipley.
Truth Waters: Shipley would want to watch his back right about now!
George Cassidy: O’Shea’s gonna pull his pants down!
O’Shea does no such thing. Shipley turns around to face O’Shea, and the Irishman locks Shipley up. O’Shea uses his strength to nail a Caravan Slam on Shipley, and goes right into the cover.
Truth Waters: Here’s the first pinfall of the match!
George Cassidy: Fingers crossed.
ONE!
Lavelle intervenes, breaking up the cover before the two count. Shipley kicks out anyway, however. Lavelle grabs O’Malec and takes him into the corner, nailing several kicks to the gut, and grounding the former Relentless champion. On the other side of the ring, O’Shea delivers shoulder blocks to Shipley’s midsection. Lavelle whips O’Malec against the ropes, and flattens him with a dropkick straight to the face. Shipley is whipped into the opposite corner by O’Shea, and O’Shea follows up on Shipley with a running knee lift. Lavelle taps O’Shea on the shoulder. O’Shea turns, only to receive a massive atomic drop from Lavelle right in the REGIONS~!
George Cassidy: Blatant low blow right there, referee! Disqualification!
Truth Waters: Michael Ryan didn’t think so, Cassidy. The match continues.
George Cassidy: Ah, poppycock.
Truth Waters: (baffled) Yes…
O’Shea collapses to the mat, holding his testicles in his hands gingerly. O’Shea almost involuntarily rolls out of the ring to nurse his REGIONS~!, while O’Malec falls victim to a double clothesline from The Academy. Shipley, fired up, takes O’Malec by the hand, bounces off the top rope, and takes him down with a textbook hurricanrana. The fans applaud the youngster’s efforts. Lavelle follows this show of technical wrestling prowess up with a dragon suplex to O’Malec, who is taking a ton of punishment.
Truth Waters: Paddy O’Shea has yet to recover from that shot below the belt. One can only imagine the pain he is going through.
George Cassidy: Screw the pain, Truth. It’s about time he got in there and saved his partner before it’s too late!
Truth Waters: Looks like that’s what he’s thinking, too!
O’Shea waves to the fans on the top rope, and dives off with a high risk double hurricanrana to The Academy. Shipley and Lavelle are reeling, while O’Shea receives a positive reaction from the fans. O’Shea checks on O’Malec, who assures him that he will be fine. O’Shea brings Shipley back to a vertical base, and delivers a kick to the gut. Shipley is whipped against the ropes, but counters by going under O’Shea’s legs and dragging him down into a boston crab. O’Shea instantly shouts out in pain, and almost looks about to tap, but O’Malec clotheslines Shipley out of his boots in desperation. Emerald Isle take a rest for a moment as Lavelle gets back to his feet at last. Chants for the Transatlantic champion begin.
”LET’S GO LA-VELLE!
George Cassidy: The fans predictably getting behind the champion.
Truth Waters: Pierce Lavelle is an outstanding athlete, Cassidy, and he deserves the cheers he gets. Whether you like it or not, he is the Transatlantic champion.
George Cassidy: (sardonically) He is the Transatlantic champion. Give me a break, Truth.
Truth Waters: I wish for once you could just shut that hole in your face, Cassidy.
George Cassidy: Try to ignore this little spat, viewers. It happens all the time.
Lavelle feeds off the hyped crowd, delivering right hand after right hand straight to O’Malec’s midsection. With fury and determination in his eyes, Lavelle rushes at O’Malec and knocks him over the top rope to the outside with a big boot. Shipley is helped to his feet by Lavelle, and The Academy go their separate ways. Lavelle goes to the outside, drilling O’Malec with a rake to the eyes and whipping him against the barricade; Shipley wanders over to the prone O’Shea, picking him up and slamming him down with a picture perfect vertical suplex.
Truth Waters: The Academy seem to have the crowd on their side right now. Could that be the deciding factor in this already tense and balanced match?
George Cassidy: It could well be, but I doubt that a few whiny kids in the front row shouting what sounds like “Lapew” could possibly do to hinder Emerald Isle’s chances of getting the win here.
Shipley takes his offense on O’Shea to the top rope, bringing O’Shea over with him as he goes up top for a high risk move. Despite the nervous look on his face, Shipley goes for a belly-to-belly suplex on O’Shea, who looks to be in no condition to counter. Out of nowhere, O’Shea reverses the move, nailing Shipley with a whirlwind backbreaker, or “Paddy-Go-Round”, right in the middle of the ring. Chants of “Holy s*it” begin all around the arena in response to the gutsy counter.
Truth Waters: What an outstanding counter by Paddy O’Shea! Can Shipley recover from this or is this the end for The Academy?
George Cassidy: It may be academic from here. No pun intended.
O’Shea musters the strength to put an arm across Shipley’s chest, and Michael Ryan drops down to the mat for the cover. Lavelle rushes into the ring to break up the count before the referee’s hand meets the mat for the first count. Lavelle looks to gain the advantage for his team, drilling the weakened O’Shea with a DDT. O’Malec, meanwhile, re-enters the ring and tackles Lavelle roughly, knocking both of them outside the ring. Shipley is left lying on the mat with O’Shea, both men exhausted.
Truth Waters: Turning point in the match right here. Only one of these men will have what it takes to stand up, fight, and win the match for their team.
George Cassidy: Only one… not Shipley, then.
O’Shea and Shipley are willed on by opposing sections of the crowd. Shipley reaches out to the air for support, probably expecting Lavelle to be there to help him up. O’Shea rolls onto his back and uses the bottom rope to get up to one knee. Eventually, both competitors are up on their feet, albeit neither of them look comfortable. Their groggy stances are quite obvious as they exchange blows. Shipley whips O’Shea off the ropes and delivers his Chaos Theory out of the blue, taking the wind out of O’Shea’s sail. Shipley collapses to the mat in fatigue, as does O’Shea.
Truth Waters: Shipley hits O’Shea with Chaos Theory, and both men are right back where they started - on the mat!
George Cassidy: Why can’t Shipley just crawl away into a little hole and stay there? Honestly, the kid is annoying me now.
O’Malec and Lavelle are still battling furiously on the outside. O’Malec manages to surprise Lavelle with a thumb to the eye, then throws him back into the ring. O’Malec follows, stomping down on Lavelle to prevent him from assisting Shipley. O’Malec picks Lavelle up, whips him off the ropes, and back drops him up, making him land right on top of his partner, Shipley. The crowd let out a sympathetic “Oooh!”. O’Malec goes for the cover on Shipley.
ONE!
TWO!
The resilient Tim Shipley kicks out before the decisive three count. O’Malec doesn’t let up on Shipley, however, lifting him to his feet and delivering a scoop slam. O’Shea is back up, and Emerald Isle deliver a tandem elbow drop to the prone Shipley. The Transatlantic champion suddenly stands up, however, and stalks O’Malec.
Truth Waters: Lavelle has something in mind here, Cassidy! Looking to end it right here, perhaps?
George Cassidy: Who knows? Do you?
O’Shea works on Shipley’s legs with kicks, and looks to look on the figure four leg lock. The crowd stir now, willing Shipley on. The excitement continues, as Lavelle delivers the Black Out to O’Malec. The crowd explode in support of The Academy, as Lavelle hits his finishing move, Whiplash. In the middle of the ring, Shipley has reversed O’Shea’s figure four into Newton’s Paradox, Shipley’s own variation on the tried and tested submission move. O’Shea and O’Malec are both on the verge of tapping out.
Truth Waters: It’s absolute chaos in the ring right now! Both members of Emerald Isle are trapped in submission moves; which one of them will tap out?!
George Cassidy: It’s tense, no doubt. I see O’Malec’s hand reaching into the air!
O’Malec’s hand reaches up into the sky, but there is still a fight in the former Relentless champion. O’Shea desperately tries to reverse Shipley’s Newton’s Paradox, but to no avail. Shipley’s legs are too strong. Finally, Crimson O’Malec’s hand signals the tap out, as Lavelle applies more and more pressure to the neck. Referee Michael Ryan calls for the bell and the victory for The Academy.
Truth Waters: And it’s over, ladies and gentlemen! The Academy have, by the skin of their teeth, perhaps, pulled out a victory here tonight. It certainly wasn’t easy against the Alliance champions, though.
George Cassidy: I’m disappointed The Academy won, in fact, because they didn’t quite deserve it. The turning point came when Shipley nailed Chaos Theory. From that time, The Academy had the clear advantage. At some points, however, Emerald Isle looked set to win.
Truth Waters: As tight as it was in the race for the victory, only one team could win this tandem tag match, and it was The Academy. Tim Shipley and Pierce Lavelle’s first time teaming together, and it’s a win. Great coup for them.
George Cassidy: Yeah, well… big deal.
The celebrations begin inside the ring, as the fans pop huge for The Academy. O’Malec and O’Shea are in disbelief about their loss, but seem to take it on the chin. The two teams, in a show of true sportsmanship, shake hands following the contest. Emerald Isle are given a round of applause from the fans for their efforts, too. Muse’s “Stockholm Syndrome” begins to play around the arena as Shipley and Lavelle savour the victory.
Truth Waters: Great win tonight for those two great athletes, and hard luck to Emerald Isle.
George Cassidy: Oh, they’ll have their revenge. Can you say “beer bath”?
Truth Waters: Cassidy, get a life. From Truth Waters and George Cassidy, it’s good night!
The Reason
FEATURING: ALEXANDER STRIDER AND CRIMSON O'MALEC
AUTHORS: ERIC HALLORAN JR. AND BRENDAN SLIGE
A gigantic smile appears on the jumbo AWCTron. Perfect teeth smiling out. They are a dentist’s wet dream, pearly white and perfectly straight. The camera pans back to reveal the evil grin belongs to none other than Alex Strider. He’s wearing his traditional black suit while he stands next to his diamond white Cadillac Escalade EXT. Alex has a conspicuous white bandage taped across the bridge of his nose.
Alex Strider: “Eire Og! Eire Og! Eire Og!”
His mocking cheers are met with resounding boos, the fans not appreciating his sarcasm.
Alex Strider: You know, I just think you guys are doing a great job. A real swell job. I’m just sorry I couldn’t be at tonight’s Fresh! to experience your awesomeness firsthand. I get chills when I think about the three of you. It’s no wonder you’re the hottest thing in the AWC right now. Wait, scratch that. Actually, it is a pretty big wonder. But even if I weren’t back here in America, trying to sort out my personal affairs, I still wouldn’t think about it too much. You’re not worth much more effort than swatting a fly.
George Cassidy: I think he looks better with the bandage on his nose.
Truth Waters: You find him attractive Cassidy, and there is something wrong with that.
George Cassidy: Shhh, no, I don’t. If it’s anything, it’s a non-sexual crush. Quiet, he’s still talking.
Alex Strider: Now, it’s no secret that I’m facing a civil trail for the culpability of something…tragic. It’s backroom fodder for you gossiping grandmothers. It’s a mark of shame for me to bear, and none of you can understand what I’m going through.
Alex pauses, a quizzical look passing over his face.
Alex Strider: Well, wait a second! Crimson, you’ve been in jail for almost two weeks, right? Now, I am POSITIVE that the fans of AWC want to know just what that was all about. Are you going to tell them? There’s no time like the present.
Jeering at Strider, the crowd is torn as they try to support Crimson. Standing in the middle of the ring, Crimson looks up at the large screen with a blank expression. Paddy tries to encourage his teammate, but Crimson does not seem to hear the words he’s saying.
Alex Strider: No? That’s too bad. I mean, I guess I see where you’re coming from. I mean, I just have to worry about a “civil trial”. There’s no chance I could get locked away for it. Everybody knows I didn’t do it. I didn’t actually kill anyone. I have no idea how guilty I’d feel if I’d actually, really… murdered somebody.
Truth Waters: What the hell is he talking about?
George Cassidy: I dunno, actually.
Alex Strider: It’s probably that kind of… dark, deep depression that you can’t ever quite shake. The kind of bleekness that corrupts your soul, and no matter how much therapy you might have, no matter where you are, you’re never really cured. You pass by something that reminds you of what happened. A spot of blood on your face when you cut yourself shaving.... Driving by a Lowe’s… Maybe…something as simple as…
Alex raises his hand from out of camera view. He loosely swings a rusty lead pipe to and fro, before holding it out, like a piece of court evidence being introduced at trial.
Alex Strider: …seeing A lead pipe?
Back in the ring, Crimson shrugs his shoulders at his comrades. Having no idea what Strider is referring too, he laughs as Paddy makes a few rude comments in the general direction of Alex Strider.
Alex Strider: But what would I know about anything, right? I must be crazy, grasping at straws like this. Anyhow, I suppose that when you feel ready to share with the world why you were arrested two weeks ago that will be the right time. You’ll feel much better about it when you get it all off your chest, though, Crimson. You don’t want to face the truth right now. I know what you’re scared of. I know that you think you’d lose everything. You’re scared your friends would abandon you. You’re scared the fans would abandon you. You’re scared you’d be left alone, all by yourself. And you don’t want to go back to that.
Alex smiles coldly, cocky.
Alex Strider: Hey, however things turn out, I’m sure they’ll be for the best. But maybe, you should just forget about me, forget that I cost Paddy his chance to be world champion. Forget that you promised to protect those around you from me. Forget that your word is your life, and just focus on what’s really important: Digging a hole in your head deep enough for you to forget what you really are. A murderer.
Truth Waters: What? WHAT? Crimson O’Malec?
George Cassidy: I KNEW it!
Alex Strider smiles his ice cold smile, looking down knowingly.
Truth Waters: This is PREPOSTEROUS! There’s no way AWC would let a murderer work here. Look at that, Crimson knows it isn’t true, he’s actually laughing!
George Cassidy: Yeah, I really don’t know where Strider’s going with this one. Ah, murder’s a pretty big deal, you know? I can’t blame Crimson for laughing at him.
Inside the ring, Crimson just shakes his head, smiling with his two friends, completely unperturbed by Strider’s wild allegations.
Fresh!man
FEATURING: DAVID "PEARL" HARBER
AUTHOR: DAVE LARKIN
The scene opens backstage in the office of AWC Entertainment Manager, David “Pearl” Harber. Pearl is seated at his desk, arms folded, waiting to announce this week’s Fresh!man. There is an air of content and coolness about Pearl tonight for some reason. He takes a sip of his steaming cup of coffee and reaches under his desk for something. The item he removes from underneath the desk is none other than THE TOP HAT O’ DOOM~!
Pearl: Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. What a fantastic night of action you have all just witnessed. Congratulations to the winners of tonight’s matches; they have all done themselves proud.
The fans pop for Pearl’s appreciation of the AWC superstars’ efforts tonight, obviously agreeing that it was a fantastic show.
Pearl: Of course, Fresh! wouldn’t be what it is without a Fresh!man. This person has risen above their peers this week and shown me - and the fans as well - that this person has what it takes to make it in this business. First, let me draw the number from THE TOP HAT O’ DOOM~!
THE TOP HAT O’ DOOM~! gets a generous pop from the fans for its comic value. Pearl reaches into the hat and pulls out a laminated picture of the AWC Livewire championship. The fans react with a positive response.
Pearl: Whoever I have chosen to be Fresh!man this week joins Pact and Steven Xandrous on the contender’s list for a shot at the Livewire championship. Without further ado, I am pleased to announce that this week’s Fresh!man is…
Pearl leans forward in his seat with a beaming smile on his face.
Pearl: Amy Silveira!
Truth Waters: What?! Silveira is the Fresh!man? Or Fresh!woman, as the case may be.
George Cassidy: I believe Fresh!girl would be more appropriate.
Truth Waters: It doesn’t matter what she’s called. Amy Silveira has impressed tonight and deserves to get a shot at the Livewire championship down the line, in my opinion.
George Cassidy: Beating The Farmer certainly warrants it, anyway.
Pearl grins, and the fans applaud the Portuguese starlet’s efforts, and her Fresh!man title.
Pearl: That’s it for tonight, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for joining us for Fresh!
The feed cuts.
The Public Execution
FEATURING: PADDY O'SHEA, MASKED MAN, MINIONS, THE FARMER
AUTHORS: MICHAEL DOHERTY AND JAAKKO OKSA
George Cassidy: This match is over but Paddy O’Shea is still in the ring. That Irish waster must have taken some hammering to the head. The back is that-a-way you idiot.
Truth Waters: No look, he’s signalling for a mic
Paddy O’Shea has let his partner Crimson O’Malec leave to the back and The Academy members have followed suit. Paddy O’Shea is now the only one standing in the ring. He is exhausted and has a hand propped onto the top rope for support. James Brunt hands Paddy a mic and he raises it to his lips.
Paddy O’Shea: Okay. Last week, tha’ piece o’ scum tha’ kidnapped me father said he would be here tonight. No’ the show is nearly over so show yer face ye bastard. Come on out, bring yer feckin’ wee cronies too, aye’ll take yer beatin’ but be warned, tha’ won’ keep me down and tonight yer fecked.
George Cassidy: Can he say that?
Truth Waters: Come on Cassidy, a little bit of sensitivity. For all viewers who don’t know what has led up to this, I’ll give you a brief summary of the last few weeks’ events. Three weeks ago, it was reported O’Shea’s father was kidnapped. Then on the following Fresh! a certain masked man that is connected to the AWC revealed himself to be the culprit and then a minion of his brutally attacked Paddy O’Shea with a wrench, leaving him hospitalised. Then last week, this man and a number of minions invaded Paddy O’Shea’s hospital room and taunted him with his father.
George Cassidy: And the masked man claimed tonight would be the last night Paddy would see his father but as of yet there’s been no show.
Paddy O’Shea: Come on ye bastard. Show yerself!
All of a sudden all the lights in the arena go out leaving it in complete darkness. After a few seconds the lights come back on and the ring is filled with masked men, minions to the leader. They are all wearing black boiler suits, black balaclavas with holes cut for the eyes and mouth. To disguise their eyes, they are wearing sunglasses. Four minions are holding Paddy with two gripping each arm and forcing him on his knees.
Truth Waters: Jesus Christ! How the hell –
George Cassidy: Truth, this man is one smart cookie but don’t you think it’s a bit stupid that Paddy O’Shea didn’t think this would happen?
Masked Man: Ohhhhh…Paddy.
Paddy O’Shea lifts his head to look to the source of this voice. He looks broken in the ring knowing how easily he was beaten. Yet O’Shea can’t see where he is.
Masked Man: Up here Paddy. Look on top of the big screen.
The camera swings around to the top of the screen and right enough, the masked man is there standing at least 50 feet from the ground. He is dressed in the same attire as the minions and is holding the same voice changer he has been employing lately. As usual, his voice has been made robotic because of it.
Masked Man: Why hello Paddy once again. You are looking fantastic today. And on your knees? Who’s the lucky man then?
There is shrill laughter from the other masked men at this cheap joke.
Masked Man: Well Paddy, I said last week this would be your last chance to see your father didn’t I? Well Paddy I don’t lie as you will soon see.
The masked man turns around and pulls a figure from the darkness. It is Danny O’Shea, Paddy’s father. His face is swollen grotesquely in some areas and dried blood decorates his face. His ankles and hands are tied together and his mouth is gagged. However, more disturbingly, there is a rope around his neck that is connected to the frame of the big screen.
Truth Waters: Oh dear Jesus!
George Cassidy: A public execution? No way!
Truth Waters: This has gone further than anything should EVER have gone! Someone call the cops! This man is beyond sick; he’s going to be a murderer!
Paddy begins to struggle like a maniac in the ring. He is livid and it takes another four men to hold him down. Even as he lies pressed onto the mat he is struggling, his faces turning more intense colours of red as time passes. The masked man laughs at Paddy’s reaction.
Masked Man: Hello Danny. You’re going for a little fun today aren’t you? Yes that’s right people because Danny O’Shea is going to bungee jump for the very first time!
The minions in the ring once again laugh in their shrill voices.
Masked Man: Unfortunately for you Danny boy, I couldn’t find a bungee cord so I’ll have to use a rope. It goes around the neck right?
Truth Waters: I cannot believe what I am seeing...
George Cassidy: This is surely the end of AWC...
The masked man laughs heartily at his own joke then grabs Danny around the scruff, forcing him with difficulty to the edge.
Masked Man: So Paddy, wish your father good luck and goodbye. I’m sure you’ll see him again one day… or not. And Paddy, before we go, just remember, this is only the beginning...
As the masked man says this, his voice has become cold and stern. He stands now with Danny O’Shea’s life in his right hand, ready to drop him over the edge to his death.
George Cassidy: Seriously... NO! He can’t do this!
Then there’s a cheer from the crowd. At first, the masked man and the minions can’t understand what’s wrong until out of the darkness behind the masked man comes The Farmer with a baseball bat!
Truth Waters: Get him Mickey! Kill him! KILL him!
George Cassidy: What?! You can’t say that!
Truth Waters: Just THINK about what this sick, sick man was going to do!
The masked man still isn’t sure what’s wrong until a few minions begin shouting to look behind him. He does so but only receives a baseball bat blow to the top of the head for his troubles. The man slumps down into a pile. Danny O’Shea slips from his grasp and seems poised to fall over the edge until The Farmer grabs him and puts him safely inwards.
Truth Waters: He saved him. Now unmask him Mickey!
George Cassidy: Oh… the suspense.
The crowd seem to be echoing what Truth Waters has said and they begin screaming at Mickey Fitz-McCarthy. The Farmer’s face is stern and cool. He turns to the masked man, grabs him by the neck and roughly pulls him to a sitting position. He then grips the top of the balaclava and after a few seconds delay pulls it off revealing...
Truth Waters: HATE! IT’S BEEN HATE ALL ALONG!
George Cassidy: Go figure.
Hate is still knocked out as The Farmer prepares to hit him again with the baseball bat. Suddenly he wakes up. After a few split seconds where he remembers what he’s doing here, the lights flick off. After a few seconds of delay, the lights come back on. Hate and all his minions are gone now leaving O’Shea in the ring alone and the Farmer and Danny on top of the screen.
Truth Waters: So Hate was behind it along then? I wonder why he has this vendetta against Paddy O’Shea... it’s something SERIOUS if he was prepared to kill O’Shea’s father. I mean... this is beyond hatred, if you’ll excuse the unintentional pun. What has O’Shea done to Hate? I dread to think.
George Cassidy: That guy doesn’t need a vendetta. He’s a blood sucking moooonnnnster!
Truth Waters: Well at least Paddy O’Shea has his father back, thanks to The Farmer, but if O’Shea thinks Hate’s going to stop now, I think he’s mistaken. We’ll see you next week – that is, if we even have a SHOW next week. This has gone too far...
George Cassidy: Luckily, we’re in Costa Rica, Truth. Sad truth – haha – is nobody cares.
The copyright notice appears, and Fresh! fades to black.