Fresh! Results19th September 2006
Cripple Him!
FEATURING: THE EMPIRE
AUTHOR: PIERRE HYDE
The Empire’s sky-box is a scene of serenity, but not an entirely comfortable one. While David Harber lounges in his reclining leather chair, tapping his fingers on the arm and checking his watch as he awaits the beginning of the show, Gabriel Afeaki is huddled in a corner with the hood of his jumper up over his head, looking sullen as he pumps music into his ears via two white earphones. LeVar Kintu sits motionless at the catering table, tonight ignoring the fantastic spread of food before him as he stares at a stationary point somewhere through the glass.
The silence is broken as one of the Drakewerx Pharmaceuticals guards opens the door to admit his boss, Dr. Kasidy Drake.
Kasidy Drake: David! LeVar!
Drake appears to completely ignore Afeaki, but there are explanations for this. For one, Afeaki is in the far corner of the room; Kasidy might not have seen him. For another, the Fijian Animal has earphones in; Dr. Drake might have noticed this, and chosen not to issue a greeting that the Relentless champion might not have heard. Nevertheless, the owner of Drakewerx Pharmaceuticals appears to completely ignore Afeaki.
Kasidy Drake: Where’s Pierce?
David Harber: He’s sorting something out for me. You were supposed to be here a half-hour ago, Kasidy.
Kasidy Drake: Yeah, I got held up. So, any news?
David Harber: Well, th---
Kasidy Drake: I’ve got a problem by the name of Ignatius Lisieux.
A little put out at having been interrupted, Harber nevertheless shuts up and waits for Drake to continue. Seating himself across the room from the Entertainment Manager, Drake stretches out and puts his arms behind his head.
Kasidy Drake: I'm sure you remember him attacking me at Coast To Coast.
Kasidy appears to be fishing for a reply, so Harber graces him with:
David Harber: Yeah.
Kasidy Drake: And right before that, him signing my contract?
David Harber: Yeah.
Kasidy Drake: Thing is, now that he’s gone and attacked me like that, I'm not even sure I want him around. But I thought, let’s wait and see, maybe he’ll be a good addition to our little Empire here. Then what does he go and do? Loses. To Jack Murphy, a washed up, what is he, 43-year-old?
David Harber: I think he’s 38.
Kasidy Drake: Either way.
Drake waves an arm.
Kasidy Drake: But in that contract – I got us a little get-out clause.
Now a smile begins to creep across Harber’s face. He’s tuning into Kasidy’s wavelength.
David Harber: Uh-huh?
Kasidy Drake: It was a little different to a normal contract in terms of injuries. In fact, the contract states that should he appear unfit to compete, the contract can be terminated just like that. Lisieux went ahead and signed – I'm not sure he even read the small print – and now we have the solution to our problem.
Harber grins and nods. The average viewer might not quite understand, because Ignatius Lisieux hasn’t been reported to have an injury.
No. Not yet.
David Harber: Gabs.
No answer.
David Harber: Gabs! I need you to---
Kasidy Drake: Never mind.
And as Afeaki finally removes his earphones to see what Harber needs, Drake’s already briefing Juggernaut Kintu instead.
Kasidy Drake: LeVar, I need you to do what we talked about. Do you understand?
Kintu nods.
Kasidy Drake: Really, though, do you? I mean it: cripple him.
And with those chilling words, we open the show.
Introduction
FEATURING: DAVE KERN, JEFF MARX
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
A pulsating white light continually lights up the screen, as shots of many AWC wrestlers in action are shown: Chainz, Garbage Bag Johnny, Gabriel Afeaki.
And even though I know
That everything might go
Go downhill from here
I’m not afraid
A quick collection of highlights from Coast To Coast 2006 flash across the screen as the song moves into its chorus. Pierce Lavelle speeding after Garbage Bag Johnny’s Segway; Josh Marquez’s giant Full House from the highest point of the boat; Mike Wade hitting David Harber with the TFW.
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
Jeff Marx: Fresh!er than FUSE, prettier than PRIME, it’s AWC!
Dave Kern: Yes folks, if you hadn’t yet heard, the brand-new system of rating television audiences in America came out with its first figures for the wrestling promotions last week. AWC was widely expected to come in at second place behind PRIME, but while we scored a respectable 3.3 on the Snow ratings, FUSE’s KillZone 11 just pipped us into second with a 3.4.
Jeff Marx: At least we DESTROYED GCW...
Dave Kern: Yes, by 0.1. PRIME ReVolution 104 was, as might be expected, way out in front scoring 5.8. A real strong performance by FUSE though; FUSE reminds me a little of what AWC used to be...
Jeff Marx: You mean, shit? Just wait for this week’s Snows, Dave. We had only four matches last week; Fresh! tonight is absolutely stacked and we’re sure to steal some of PRIME’s viewership.
Dave Kern: Well, the industry rumblings are that PRIME would’ve debuted even higher on the inaugural Snows last week, but for the stunt pulled by one-time AWC Transatlantic champion Adam Dick at Colossus III – and more accurately, because he appeared, most definitely alive, at Coast To Coast just days after supposedly ‘exploding’ on PRIME TV.
Jeff Marx: Yeah, that incident cost PRIME a lot of credibility...
Dave Kern: Which makes their heavyweight 5.8 all the more worrying.
Jeff Marx: Let the Fedwars begin~!
Ass Nightmare
FEATURING: LEAH ADAMS, JOHNNY LEXICON
AUTHORS: KRIS (KLONE) AND SITA
“Welcome to the Club. I'd like to say I'll go easy on you, but that'd be lying.”
Leah Adams' head snaps around at the sound of his voice. A snarl of disgust plays upon her lips as she glares at him... Johnny Lexicon. Her opponent to be. In mere minutes they'll be walking through that curtain and out in front of the fans.
Leah Adams: Baby I wouldn't want you to go easy on me even if you could. Let’s face it when push comes to shove I will not be sitting back and letting you win cause you got a pretty face. I don't expect you to take it easy on me in fact I demand that you do not cause it will make my win all the sweeter.
Johnny looks at the curtain as a smile plays at his lips.
Johnny Lexicon: Confidence is a good thing.
Glaring at him as he looks past her she sneers, a strong distaste for the man already being formed.
Leah Adams: You know you could look at me whilst you speak to me... that is unless you fear that by looking at me, sweetcheeks, you will want me so bad that you will start to drool and maybe betray that sweet little wifey of yours. Believe me your hands would want to wander and building the courage to fight me fair and square won't be the only thing you find hard around here tonight!
Johnny Lexicon: I don't like fighting girls. I don't wanna see your face on my opponent out there.
Snarling with anger and an utter dislike for her opponent other than his appealing features.
Leah Adams: Look hunny you don't have to look at my face cause I know you'll prolly just cum right here but take a good look at this ass cause it will be the last thing you see as I walk away from this match the winner. You think I'm just a girl... don't underestimate me Mr Lexicon I'm the nightmare where you get thrashed by a girl... and guess what, I'm here to make that nightmare reality... TONIGHT!
Johnny grins and we cut to a quick advertisement for AWC Untouchable before moving to the ring for our opening match.
Leah Adams vs Johnny Lexicon
STIPULATION: SINGLES
REFEREE: AARON DAVIES
AUTHOR: JAMIE ROGERSON
Pierre Perroquet: Ze following is a singles match! In ze ring, LEAH ADAMS, ‘oo ‘az no details! Zat is right – she is from nowhere and is weighing nussing!
The opening riff of 'Beautiful People' by Marilyn Manson trebles on the bass line as the screen flickers and fades into static.
'Patient zero has become infected.'
A robotic voice emulates fear.
'Self destruct sequence has been initiated.'
The same robotic voice ques in higher.
Johnny Lexicon: Oh that human element.
His baritone rolls.
There's a flash, a crash, the music picks up and Lexicon walks from the back in a pair of Trooper Shades framed by his shoulder length blond hair. He raises a rock on and points to his Pierce Lavelle T-Shirt that he is wearing as he heads ringside. His shades and shirt come off before he even climbs through the ropes, tying his bangs back out of his face. Johnny Lexicon enters the ring slowly, and walks right up to Leah Adams who is already waiting in the ring for his arrival. The two of them stare each other down.
Dave Kern: Interesting how Lexicon still sports a Lavelle t-shirt even after The Empire’s formation.
Jeff Marx: It’s because he realises Lavelle is ten times more badass now than he EVER was before.
Pierre Perroquet: And ‘er opponent, from Calgary, Alberta, weighing in at 245 pounds... JOHNATHON WILLIAN LEXICON!
As the match bell rings, the two continue the stare down until Adams gets impulsive and fires a right hand at Lexicon! The crowd erupts into a chorus of jeers, after that cheap shot, as Adams proceeds by sending Lexicon over the top rope he just came through with an impressive single leg dropkick. Leah Adams steps back, so she can admire her well-crafted work. She looks up at the crowd, and taunts to them.
Dave Kern: Adams is starting well, considering Johnny Lexicon has the weight and height advantage over her.
Jeff Marx: Look how cocky she is, though!
Dave Kern: I’m slightly turned on by it.
Jeff Marx: Your own mother turns you on.
Lexicon takes his time. With his ego a little dented he gets back into the ring. Adams looks down at Lexicon, who slowly gets to his feet. He walks right up to Adams and fiercely slaps her across the face. Adams tries the same method of attack, and tries to pummel down on him in return. This time Lexicon is ready, and ducks the attack. He goes for a neckbreaker, but Adams cleverly flips round, and reverses the move into an arm drag. Lexicon crashes into the apron as both of them get up. Leah Adams flashes a smirk in the direction of her opposition.
Jeff Marx: Leah Adams is getting more cocky by the minute.
Dave Kern: (groans and grunts)
Jeff Marx: What’s gotten into you?!
Johnny Lexicon dives into a lock up, but instead catches Adams with a knee to abdomen. He capitalises immediately from the impact of the move by following up with a clotheslines. It sends Leah Adams circling in the air before hurtling down face first into the apron. Lexicon launches himself upwards above Adams and performs a Senton Splash. He flips Adams onto her back and snatches her leg, as Aaron Davies acknowledges the cover.
ONE!
TWO!
THR--
Dave Kern: Surely that should have been it there.
Jeff Marx: Leah showed great inner beauty there, by kicking out.
Dave Kern: ...What’s gotten into you?
Adams pulls herself up and leans against the ropes, she pauses before sliding out of the ring. The crowd around the arena look confused, as she starts to walk up the ramp.
Jeff Marx: Where the hell is that idiot going?
Dave Kern: Isn’t idiot a bit harsh?
Jeff Marx: Your right, where the hell is that biatch going?
Adams turns round and looks back at Lexicon, who is standing in the ring with a confused look on his face. She smiles, and indicates for Lexicon to join her.
Dave Kern: It looks like these two are gonna take it out of the ring. Remember, folks, this is all legal.
Pierre Hyde: Uh, is it?
A reluctant Lexicon moves up the ramp, impatiently, but Leah Adams looks like she knows what she is doing. She scampers into the crowd and disappears before popping up on the shoulders of someone in the crowd.
Dave Kern: This could never have happened under Volkyeva rules.
Jeff Marx: This might get ugly.
Dave Kern: Some of these fellas don’t look like they’ve ever seen a woman before.
Jeff Marx: Neither have you.
Dave Kern: I’ve seen my mum naked and yes I was slightly turned on by her.
Jeff Marx: …
Dave Kern: The Scottish are rowdy, randy and several are puffing on pipes.
Jeff Marx: They’re just like the Irish, ignore anything they can't drink, smoke, punch or fuck.
She stands up above on top of somebody’s shoulders, as Lexicon slows down his pace. Both competitors are simply meters away from each other, when suddenly Adams dives off out of the crowd flattening Johnny Lexicon with a diving somersault plancha!
Dave Kern: Oh my! Did you see that?
Jeff Marx: That was… some move!
The crowd around the arena is going a little nuts. Several fans have even stooped so low that they are pulling their kilts up and showing the camera their nuts, too. Leah Adams slowly pulls herself up, as the referee, Aaron Davies, is looking a little timid in the ring. Eventually, he exits the safety of the ring and joins the action on the outside. Leah Adams looks at Davies and smiles. She sets herself up before rifling a dropkick into Johnny Lexicon, who was on all fours. She persists with the assault by mounting Lexicon and lifting his head up and slamming it down onto the steel rampway several times. Lexicon in desperation flings a forearm at Adams. It connects as she falls off of him onto the ground.
Jeff Marx: Johnny Lexicon is in the zone now. The adrenaline's pumped, he's ready to do anything!
Dave Kern: It just seems like Johnny likes to be on top.
Lexicon is dazed as he is on his knees. The relentless Leah Adams jumps onto him locking in a sleeper hold. Lexicon staggers towards the ring with Adams still choking away on him. With his back turned facing the ring, he rams Adams lower back against the ringside. She releases her grip as she rolls under the ropes. Lexicon catches his breathe before rejoining the action inside the ring with Davies following not far behind. With both competitors in the centre of the ring, Leah Adams gestures for Johnny Lexicon to move closer. Lexicon runs his hand through his long blonde hair and shakes the smile from his face.
Dave Kern: Why one earth does Adams want to square up to Lexicon?
He takes a leap forward and locks arms with Adams. The wrestlers push deeper into each, their foreheads clashing as they grapple across the ring. Lexicon gains the upper hand, pushing Adams under his arms and bounces her off the ropes. As she comes back he attempts ‘Pattern Perfect’ with Adams in the air she manages to reverse the move into a hurricanrana.
Dave Kern: Whoah!
Jeff Marx: Wow! Wow! Wow!
Dave Kern: Adams was lucky there, Lexicon was attempting to finish her off.
Lexicon jumps straight back into the action. She attempts a clothesline on a shaken Lexicon who ducks under it before twisting around and connecting with one of his own. Adams jumps up, momentarily stunned. Lexicon takes a step back and turns to Adams, who is up on one of her knees. Taking a tuft of Leah Adams hair, he attempts to lift his opponent up, but Adams hits a low blow!
Dave Kern: Now that's cheating. Great stuff.
Jeff Marx: Great stuff? Cheating just proves that the she can't win properly.
Dave Kern: Winning properly doesn't matter, winning on the other hand does though!
Lexicon drops to his knees in agony and rolls into the corner. The referee, Aaron Davies gives Adams a verbal warning, but she shrugs him away and moves to the corner, planting several stomps in Lexicons guts. As he sits up against the turnbuckle, she moves to the opposite side of the ring. She almost chuckles as she sprints across the ring diving full force into the air. With Adams in mid-flight Lexicon jumps up and spears her. He lands on top as the pin starts.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Pierre Perroquet: Zee winner… JOHNNY LEXICON!
Dave Kern: Lexicon has picked up the win here, which looked unlikely at one stage.
Jeff Marx: Leah Adams got too far a head of steam and she came crashing down.
Dave Kern: This match may have been a little tougher than Lexicon may have expected.
Jeff Marx: Looking at it on paper it seemed a sure thing, but he sure made hard work of it.
Oh Flower Of Scotland...
FEATURING: WESLEY RENO, CHARLIE HIGHLANDER
AUTHOR: DAVE LARKIN
The scene opens rather suddenly in the locker room of one Wesley Reno, who is busily preparing himself to wrestle in front of a packed house in Glasgow, Scotland. The fans’ roars can be heard from afar as Reno places his duffle bag down on the bench and begins to get dressed into his wrestling gear. Just as Reno is unbuttoning his clean white shirt, a raucous man enters the room, sporting a green and blue tartan kilt and bagpipes – your stereotypical Scot, basically.
Reno’s jaw drops as the crazed man, who he can only assume is Scottish, swings his hips, unfortunately showing off his posterior, which is bare under his kilt.
Wesley Reno: Okay, who are you?
Charlie Highlander: Laddy, lemme tell ye somethin’ ‘bout the wee Scooots here in Glasgooooo! We’re dafinately pumped and readah for your match toneet! So I suggest ye sing along wi’ mahself and geh goooin’!
Reno buttons his shirt back up and steps forward towards this strange Scottish man. A small patch of saliva has appeared on Reno’s bag, just below where the man is standing. It seems his constant spitting is the culprit.
Wesley Reno: What are we singing exactly? I mean, I’m on a tight schedule here. I--–
Before Reno can utter another word, the Scottish gentleman begins belting out the Scottish national anthem “Flower Of Scotland” at the top of his voice. Reno almost recoils in horror.
Charlie Highlander: Ooooh flower of Scohland!
Reno covers his ears as the man continues to whine and wail with little or no melody or tune in his voice. Reno walks towards the door, the man seemingly unaware Reno has decided to make a quick exit. As Reno turns back, the kilt elevates somehow, revealing the hairiest pair of buttocks in existence. Reno almost vomits at the sight of it, but opts to escape.
Charlie Highlander: Oi, little fella! I’m nae finished singin’ the anthem!
The man, who isn’t exactly the trimmest gentleman around, pursues Reno. Reno ducks out of the way behind a vending machine and watches the Scot pass by in a fury.
Charlie Highlander: Am Charleh Highlandah, kid, and I’ll find ye if it’s the last thing ah dooo!
Reno scrambles back into his own locker room, wondering to himself how this man managed to infiltrate the building. Infiltrate was the operative word in this situation, as Reno didn’t believe there was any way he was a member of the arena staff. Reno locks the door behind him and takes a few breaths. He begins to mentally prepare himself for his upcoming match, hoping the return of the raving Scot isn’t on the cards.
The Last Word vs Delta Upsilon Iota
STIPULATION: DUO TAG
REFEREE: LARS LARSSON
AUTHOR: KRIS (KLONE)
'Underway' by The Muggs hits the speakers and The Last Word, Dex Lacey and Brody Jersch appear to a mixed fan reaction.
Dave Kern:Fresh faced rookies making their way to ring.
Jeff Marx:What's his last name, Yeursch?
The slide into the ring on their bellies and make way as the ref has a few words with them.
'Master of Puppets' by Metallica hits the speakers and the fans find their feet and their voices.
Jeff Marx:Listen to these knuckle heads.
Colby Korver and Hank Cobb make their way ring side, circle around slowly. Cobb slides into the ring and jumps to his feet the instant before Dex is on him. Brody bails from the ring as the ref calls for the bell.
Dave Kern:Dex Lacey starting things off against the much larger Hank Cobb.
Jeff Marx:Hey check it out.
*ZING*
Jeff Marx: Haha, it's a zinger.
Dex circles quickly, they lock up and Hank starts forcing Dex against the ropes. Lacey throws the arms wide and hits him with a hard left hand, Hank bounces back with a right and a left but Dex spins away from the ropes and makes a quick tag to Brody. Hank gets Lacey from behind, he sets up for a snap German suplex. Dex holds it! Brody hammers Cobb from behind, Lacey grabs his feet as Brody delivers a nasty neck breaker.
Dave Kern:An intense start to this match. Oh my, Cobb is having a hard time staying up!
Jeff Marx:That problem is completely natural.
Dave Kern:What?
*ZING*
Jeff Marx: Hahaha!
Cobb gets to his feet with a little help from Brody who throws him into the ropes, following in close he doesn't see the big boot until he's chewing leather. The fans sprout into cheers as Hank makes a quick tag to Colby. He drops on Brody hard, pounding him with hard right hands until the ref interjects with a five count. Korver pulls Brody to his feet and sends him into the corner. He follows in quick but nobodies there. Belly to back suplex.
Hank is in the ring fast, he hammers Brody with a hard forearm that sends him sprawling to the mat. Dex comes down off the top rope for a missile drop kick! Hank is on the outside and the ref ushers Lacey out of the ring.
Dave Kern:Impressive reaction time from The Last Word, DUI are on the ropes.
Jeff Marx:Not like it's something we haven't seen before.
Colby stomps on Brody, and again before pulling him to his feet and throwing him against the ropes. Solid scoop slam!
Colby goes for an easy pin and hooks the leg.
ONE!
Brody powers his shoulder off the mat and the ref breaks count.
Dave Kern:It could never be that easy.
Jeff Marx:Tell that to your mom.
Dave Kern:Hey!
*ZING*
Jeff Marx:Muahaha!
Colby gets off after adding a little pressure, pulling Brody to his feet he sends him into the corner hard. Back elbow! Colby steps away, the fans cheering as Brody slumps to the mat. Korver drags a shaky Brody to his corner and makes the tag to Hank, together they send Brody into the ropes.
He comes off fast and right into a nasty double clothesline. Holding his neck he writhes on the mat.
Dave Kern:He won't be swallowing for a week.
*ZING*
Dave Kern:What the heck?
Jeff Marx:Heehee, I didn't have to try with that one.
Hank drags Brody off the mat and throws him into the corner in one single motion, he position's Brody into sitting on the top rope and moves to the middle to join him.
Dave Kern:This is looking very bad for Brody!
Colby fights back! He hits Hank once, and again. He kicks Hank square and knockes him onto his back. Dex with a huge leg drop out of nowhere! He rolls off and just in time for Brody to hit an elbow drop!
Dave Kern:OH MY GOD!
Brody makes a weary pin attempt.
ONE!
TWO!
Colby drags Brody out of the count and retreats his corner. Both men are on their backs, Brody stirs first. Dex reaches and yells for the tag, Colby stomps and calls for Hank to come around.
Dave Kern:Both men balance precariously, both men need to make a tag. DUI is hungry to reestablish themselves in the duo division, The Last Word stand ready to make an impressive debut.
Jeff Marx:Inspiring.
Brody makes the tag as Hank is getting to his knees. Dex storms the ring hard, slamming Hank from behind with a hard elbow and following through to knock Colby clear off the ring apron!
Jeff Marx:Well look who's got a head full of steam.
Dex stomps on Hank a couple of times, retreating to the corner he ascends the turnbuckles and launches a quick back flip body drop. The fans erupt.
Dave Kern:Dex hits the Cobb hard!
*ZING* *ZING* *ZING*
Jeff Marx:I love my job.
Dave Kern:That's it I've had it! Give it to me. Give it TO ME!!
Jeff Marx:No! Get back!
Dave Kern:Give it!
Jeff Marx:Never!
*Zingggg...*
Colby struts for the fans while Brody shouts at him to make the pin.
Jeff Marx:You're an animal.
Dave Kern:Can we get back to work now?
Jeff Marx:A damn savage animal.
Dex, ignoring Brody, pulls Hank into a kneeling position and steps away. He runs into the ropes and comes back like lightening with a nasty drop kick but no! Cobb rolls out of the way and makes a diving tag to Colby Korver!
Dave Kern:Dex makes a mistake and it costs him as Colby comes out of the corner firing on all cylinders.
Colby hammers Dex into the corner, hammers with a elbow to the ribs and throws him to the mat face first. He hops up unto the middle turnbuckle, facing the ring and drops a leg across Dex's back. Brody stomps his foot angrily.
Dave Kern:Colby now manhandling Dex!
Jeff Marx:Zing... *sniffle.*
Dex is back on wobbly feet when Colby hits him flat line a solid with a running clothesline. He goes for the pin attempt.
ONE!
TWO!
Dex gets his shoulder up!
Dave Kern:Another round of cheers for the newcomer Dex Lacey. Colby's looking frustrated.
Colby gets his feet and hammers a blow down against Dex's back, battling for his knees. Colby kicks him in the side. Dex hops to his feet and blocks a big right hand, he answers with one of his own. Colby lands a blow. Dex lands one of his own. Colby gets another, Dex's knees look shakey but he hammers back, and again, and again! Brody, half hanging in the ring makes a blind tag!
Dave Kern:Brody tagging himself into the ring!
Jeff Marx:I've never seen you like that Kern.
Dave Kern:Enough about the zinger! We've got Brody hammering away on Colby Korver in the ring!
Jeff Marx:I was almost frightened.
Brody tosses Colby into the corner and knocks Hank off the apron! Colby comes off and right into a kick to the gut. Brody hooks his head between his legs, hooks each arm and lifts for a huge sit out power bomb! Dex off the top turnbuckle with a leg drop!
Dave Kern:I heard about it! And now I've seen it! Symmetry!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Hank Cobb is in the ring but it's too late, 'Underway' by The Muggs cues up over the speakers as Brody helps Dex get back on his feet. The ref cuts between them and hoists their arms into the arm. Their heads fall back as chins are raised.
Dave Kern:An impressive and hard fought battle by both teams, The Last Word walk away with a debut win.
Jeff Marx:You just... You just strangled the life out of it.
Bringing Sexy Back I
FEATURING: FREDROCK~!, EMO KID
AUTHOR: JAMIE ROGERSON
A camera is positioned in the fogginess of the evening. The "Invincible" FREDROCK~! and Emo Kid have just gotten off a bus full of nuns. It is clear that Emo Kid is undoubtedly irritated about something that has previously happened.
Emo Kid: I hate those motherfucking nuns on that motherfucking bus. I was about to slit my wrists.
FREDROCK~!: (sarcastically) You do that anyway, you freak!
Emo Kid: I’m the freak? You’re the sick freak! You actually tried it on with one of them.
FREDROCK~!: (modestly) I was just brushing up on my technique, that’s all.
Emo Kid: She only spoke to you because the soap dispenser was out.
FREDROCK~!: Wonder why that was?
FREDROCK~! is dressed in his customary janitor uniform. Which consist of a tight pair of baby blue thong trunks, with a little frizz peeping out around the edges. He is wearing no T-Shirt and has a nametag pinned into his upper chest, it also states his job in big bold writing. His body is covered from head to toe in patches of curly hair and sweat, making him sparkle under certain lights. In his left hand he is cradling onto a broom.
Emo Kid: Seriously, pulling your thong down and saying, ‘tug on this baby, I’m never out!’ wasn’t exactly appropriate.
FREDROCK~! nods surprising agreeing with what Emo Kid has to say.
FREDROCK~!: What you’re wearing isn’t exactly appropriate either.
Emo Kid: I’m raging against the system…
FREDROCK~! is baffled by what Emo Kid is saying, so he cuts him off.
FREDROCK~!: Any bloke that wears tight trousers clearly doesn't value his balls.
Emo Kid: Take that back.
FREDROCK~!: Make me!
Emo Kid: Your mom’s a whore.
FREDROCK~!: No… she’s a prostitute, she told me so.
There is a silence between the two as the camera moves further out. It comes apparent they are standing outside the Glasgow arena where the upcoming Atlantic Wrestling Club’s Fresh! is taking place.
FREDROCK~!: That nun so wanted me, though.
Emo Kid: Why did you hit on her again?
FREDROCK~!: Rehearsal!
Emo Kid: For what?
FREDROCK~! loses his focus as he is beginning to drool. He slurs out the word ‘Sarah’. When he comes round he wipes the foam and mucus surrounding his mouth away with his hand. Emo Kid on the other hand looks a little anxious.
Emo Kid: I don’t think this is going to work.
FREDROCK~!: Why?
Emo Kid: He will not take us seriously.
FREDROCK~!: We could always just write a letter. Place it in a small box, take a dump in it and E-Mail it to him. That’ll show him how serious we are.
Emo Kid: One problem, you have two left hands and you’re right-handed.
FREDROCK~! hangs his head down in shame. The camera zooms in on a tear that has formed around his eye. It drops down onto his cheek and begins to run. A thumb appears and wipes the smudge from his face.
Emo Kid: It’s okay, we all have our faults.
The camera pans out on the two as FREDROCK~! lifts his head up.
FREDROCK~!: Can you write?
Emo Kid: Is it a suicide note?
FREDROCK~!: Hmm… Not really!
Emo Kid is perplexed, writing words, which aren’t suicidal. FREDROCK~! frowns.
FREDROCK~!: We’re screwed. I might as well disassemble myself and go hibernate in my box.
He begins to wrench and twist away at one of his arms.
Emo Kid: Wait… We could just ask.
FREDROCK~!: That won’t work.
Emo Kid: Why?
FREDROCK~!: ‘Cause I’m the janitor and you’re Emo, all hair no personality.
A squishy pop is heard as FREDROCKS~! arm finally wiggles loose from its socket. He clutches his other arm and commences disassembling himself.
Emo Kid: Yeah… We’re screwed.
FREDROCK~!: Wait… I know… WE CAN DANCE!
FREDROCK~! pulls up his arms from the glistening pavement and pops them back in place. Emo Kid not to be out done, pitches his plan.
Emo Kid: If that doesn’t work, can we just slit our wrists?
FREDROCK~!: Couldn’t harm us to do that too.
Emo Kids hand twitches in the direction of his pocket.
FREDROCK~!: But not right now. Firstly, we need to BOOGIE!
The sound of a bagpipe echoes harmoniously in the background. As FREDROCK~! begins to sway from side to side with his hands in the air. He starts to sing as Emo Kid provides some high-pitched, ear-piercing screaming for the backing vocals.
FREDROCK~!: We’re bringing sexy back.
Emo Kid: I got you bade.
FREDROCK~!: Them other boys don't know how to act.
Emo Kid: I got my razorblade.
FREDROCK~!: We’ll bend you over and whip your back.
Emo Kid: I got you bade.
FREDROCK~!: Cause we’re bringing sexy back and that's a fact.
Emo Kid: I got my razorblade.
As FREDROCK~! and Emo Kid finish, they both turn and eye up one another. The camera begins to zoom in for a close up of their faces, as they admire each other’s physique and handsomeness. The two eventually make eye contact, and instantly began to do a weird eye gaze back to the other. Their faces move closer together.
FREDROCKS~! face scrunches as his eyes close and his lips pucker up, Emo Kid’s mouth gapes open. The scene is perfect, a firework goes off high above, well now it is. Their lips move to a millimetre of one another as FREDROCK~! lets one off. He opens his eyes and pulls back instantly.
FREDROCK~!: Sorry! I was just…
Emo Kid: (worryingly) Yeah, yeah, me too.
They both shrug their shoulders as an awkward silence comes upon us.
Emo Kid: Fred… I’m scared!
There is a short pause as FREDROCK~! turns and faces Emo Kid as he whimpers.
Emo Kid: Hold Me!
Emo Kid extends his hand out. FREDROCK~! gradually does so too, as their hands touch they smile. With a tight grasp in place, they begin to skip off into the distances. A shooting star flutters across the sky as the camera fades to black.
Wesley Reno vs B.O.T.
STIPULATION: SINGLES
REFEREE: RICHIE TRAVIS
AUTHOR: DAVE LARKIN
Dave Kern: We’re here in Scotland tonight, and my goodness these fans couldn’t get any rowdier if they tried. They’ve been cursing at us the whole night long. How come so many of them are wearing green and white?
Jeff Marx: Indeed. I could also put the question to you, Dave, why are so many of them wearing blue? It’s simple, really. You ever heard of a game called soccer?
Dave Kern: (facetiously) Of course not, I’m a complete tool!
Jeff Marx: I made you call yourself a tool! You’re gullible. Anyway, allow me to explain this complex and sometimes misunderstood game.
Dave Kern: Um, this is a wrestling show, Jeff. Wrestling, not soccer.
Jeff Marx: Basically, it’s a game whereby a score is obtained by kicking and/or heading the football into your opponents goal, making sure it has crossed the line. That’s the gist of it in layman’s terms. The reason these fans are wearing these colours tonight is because we’re in Glasgow, and believe it or not, Rangers and Celtic are the biggest teams here.
Dave Kern: The names ring a bell, but can we please –
Jeff Marx: They should ring a few bells. So, you’re incorrect when you say the fans are cursing at us; they’re actually cursing, and unsettlingly sometimes spitting, at each other. It won’t stop all night.
Dave Kern: Okay, before we descend into a meaningless rant about soccer again, we’ll send you straight down to ringside, where a match will take place momentarily, believe it or not.
Pierre Perroquet is standing in the middle of the ring, feeding his parrot some snacks. The parrot munches away at the snacks as Perroquet composes himself once more.
Pierre Perroquet: Ladies and gentlemen, ze following is a, ‘ow you say, oh yes I say zis all ze time, singles match and it iz scheduled for one fall!
Parrot of Perroquet: SHUTUPGAY!
Pierre Perroquet: Eh ben!
Parrot of Perroquet: My name ain’t Ben. SHUTUPGAY.
Pierre Perroquet: Comprendez-vous francais?!
As the song made famous by James Bond’s ventures on the big screen, “The World Is Not Enough”, begins to play on the P.A. system, golden lights descend on the stage, fluttering in all directions. Highlights of The Coalition’s success thus far appear on the screen above the entrance rampway as the confident Wesley Reno, tonight without Phil Allen, makes his way down to the ring. Reno walks in long strides, showing his eagerness to begin the contest.
Pierre Perroquet: Entering zee ring, from East Ruzzerford, New Jerzey… weighing in at 210 pounds… WESLEY RENO!!!
As Reno warms up in the middle of the ring, “Cowboys” by Portishead begins to play on the P.A. system. The crowd greet B.O.T. with a mixed reception, who emerges from behind the curtain like a man on a mission. Coming off a victory last week on Fresh!, the relative newcomer seems more than ready for the match.
Dave Kern: B.O.T. certainly looks prepared for whatever he has to face in this contest, doesn’t he?
Jeff Marx: What? Oh, yeah. I was too busy looking at the angry Scots shouting at each other to care!
Pierre Perroquet: And ‘is opponent, from Moorestown, New Jerzey… weighing in at 296 pounds… B.O.T.!
B.O.T. enters the ring and eyes up his opponent, who appears unfazed by the 6’8’’ frame of B.O.T. Reno steps forward to engage his opponent, in fact, and the two lock eyes in an intense stare. Richie Travis rings the bell to start the match off.
Dave Kern: It’s B.O.T. up against one half of The Coalition here, Jeff. How do you see this one panning out?
Jeff Marx: I gotta say, I’m loving the Scots here tonight. They’re a wild bunch of people.
Dave Kern: And the match? Is there anything you’d like to share with the fans?
Jeff Marx: Oh, it’s quite obvious that Reno will be brushed aside by the more powerful B.O.T. Just look at the guy! Not only does he outweigh Reno and have many more years of experience, but he’s six foot eight! Why does Reno ever bother showing up?
Reno and B.O.T. move away from each other, neither making a premature assault which could result in a disadvantage. After a brief square-off, Reno launches himself at the massive B.O.T., who absorbs Reno’s blow to the chest. B.O.T. picks Reno up by the neck, choking the life out of the newcomer. B.O.T. tosses Reno to the mat unceremoniously, instantly looking to lock in a keylock armbar. Before the damage can be done, Reno reaches the bottom rope, barely draping his foot over to break the hold.
Jeff Marx: Wes Reno living dangerously here already! He’ll have to be more cautious in his approach instead of just throwing himself at B.O.T.
Dave Kern: Ah, a good observation for once. So I take it you’ve finished checking out the Scottish dudes?
Jeff Marx: If they’re fighting, I’m watching.
Dave Kern: They’re not.
Jeff Marx: Then I’m watching the match, sadly.
Dave Kern: Good. OH MY GOD, WHAT A SHOT BY RENO!!!
B.O.T. collapses against the ropes, having been walloped in the face by Reno with a swinging right hook. Reno, perhaps slightly in awe of what he has just done, takes his time before capitalizing. Reno works on B.O.T.’s legs, looking to knock him down to the mat where he can do less damage. Reno delivers a knee into the back of B.O.T.’s leg, which sends the monster toppling down. Reno runs off the ropes, but B.O.T. predicts his intentions and meets him with a uppercut to the jaw.
Dave Kern: What a stunning shot to the jaw of Reno from B.O.T.! He’s certainly been on the back foot since that shot from Reno, but he could have found his way back into this now.
Jeff Marx: Was there ever a doubt, in truth? B.O.T. is asserting himself nicely on this match and in AWC.
B.O.T. wastes no time and before Reno has a chance to recover, B.O.T. delivers a stalling suplex, letting the blood rush to Reno’s head before dropping him onto the unforgiving canvas. The ring shakes, and the fans in the arena go eerily silent. Several rowdy Scottish fans somewhere in the back of the arena begin chanting Reno’s name, and soon everyone follows suit.
”RENO! RENO! RENO!”
Dave Kern: Reno has the backing of these great fans here in Glasgow. Can he regain the momentum he had been building earlier to take the victory here?
Jeff Marx: I’m convinced that these Scottish fans can make anything happen. A Reno victory, though, won’t happen. The Scots are multi-talented, but they are not gods.
B.O.T. looks to quell the support for Reno by delivering a few elbows to Reno’s stomach, sending him into the corner. B.O.T. plays up to the crowd before rushing into Reno’s midsection with a shoulder charge. The crowd let out a sympathetic “Ooh!” for Reno, who doubles over in anguish. B.O.T. further presses home his advantage by setting up the Indian deathlock on Reno.
Jeff Marx: Oh, this is perfect! B.O.T. has the kid right where he wants him. Now it’s simply a matter of making him tap out, the ultimate embarrassment for Reno in front of his loyal Scottish faithful.
Dave Kern: Reno’s as tough as nails, Jeff. He’ll do his utmost, Phil Allen or no Phil Allen, to win this!
As B.O.T. falls to the mat, the dreaded Indian deathlock now locked in, Reno screams out in pain. However, Reno begins turning his body weight to one side, attempting to reverse the hold into a figure four leg lock. The crowd will Reno on with chants as B.O.T. desperately tries to prevent Reno from turning.
Dave Kern: Reno’s got the reversal! He’s about to turn over…
Jeff Marx: No! How could he possibly turn like that against a 296 pound behemoth?
Reno has indeed managed to lock in the figure four leg lock on B.O.T., who appears to be struggling in the centre of the ring, stranded. B.O.T.’s huge frame allows him to edge closer to the ropes, but Reno breaks the hold himself before B.O.T. can gain any respite. Reno pulls B.O.T. by the foot back into the middle of the ring and slaps on the Sharpshooter on B.O.T. The fans resemble ravenous dogs as they whoop and cheer for Reno to finish B.O.T.
Dave Kern: It could all be over here! After a brilliant counter of the Indian deathlock by Reno, B.O.T. could be done and dusted here!
Jeff Marx: Pull yourself together, B.O.T.! He’s a puny kid; you should be destroying him!
Reno continues to apply the pressure with the Sharpshooter, not giving his opponent a moment’s rest. B.O.T. somehow manages to overpower Reno, however, and pushes him off of him and against the ropes. Reno charges back at B.O.T. as he regains his footing, and B.O.T. nails Reno with a knee to the sternum, bending him over. B.O.T. takes Reno by the neck and applies the Dragon sleeper. Reno’s arms flail all over the place as he realises he is in big trouble.
Dave Kern: Wesley Reno had control of this match, but B.O.T. has amazingly clawed his way back into it! Reno can’t take this for much longer!
Jeff Marx: Listen to the Scottish fans! There’s no arguing, there’s no spitting, there’s no noise! There’s shock at B.O.T. turning this thing on its head!
Dave Kern: RENO COUNTERS!!!
Jeff Marx: Whaaaaa –
Reno spins B.O.T. around and delivers a beautiful DDT, forcing B.O.T. to land on the top of his head. The crowd erupts with cheers as Reno locks in the Sharpshooter, just as he did earlier in the match. This time, B.O.T. doesn’t have the energy to resist.
Dave Kern: B.O.T. is finding it hard to hold on here.
Jeff Marx: Hang on, BOTster!
Dave Kern: That’s just… bad.
Reno relentlessly applies more pressure as B.O.T. reaches out for the bottom rope in vain. Richie Travis asks B.O.T. the question, and as Reno yanks back furiously one more time, B.O.T. finally taps out, giving the win to Reno.
Dave Kern: Wesley Reno has defeated B.O.T. in singles competition, and would you look at the fans here in Glasgow? They’re going absolutely mental with celebrations. I feel for B.O.T., who competed so well throughout the match, though.
Jeff Marx: B.O.T. is so unlucky not to have won this match, in my opinion.
Dave Kern: Oh, do you think so? Tell you what, Jeff, why don’t you jump into this crowd of angry Scots and you’ll see what unlucky is!
Jeff Marx: I know I complimented the Scots for being genius, but they’re kind of out of my league. (sheepishly) The answer is no.
Reno has his hand raised by Richie Travis as “The World Is Not Enough” plays. Reno looks exhausted, but more than happy with the win nonetheless. The victorious Reno heads up the rampway to rapturous applause.
My Heart's Desire
FEATURING: PIERCE LAVELLE, CHAINZ
AUTHOR: MIKE S.
Pierce Lavelle strolls through the backstage area, chewing on a delicacy from The Empire’s private sky-box. He walks, humming a tune and looking quite happy with himself… that is until he sees Chainz step into view.
Pierce Lavelle: Damn.
Chainz smiles as he sees Lavelle and approaches him. He looks down to see an apple in Lavelle’s hand and snatches it, taking a large bite out of it.
Chainz: So how goes it buddy?
Pierce Lavelle: We’re not buddies.
Chainz: Come now, is that any way to treat an old friend?
Chainz chews the apple some more as Pierce searches for the correct words.
Pierce Lavelle: Look, just because you think you know something, doesn’t mean me and you are friends.
Chainz: Maybe not, but you need me to keep my mouth quiet and as I see it, that puts you in my debt.
Pierce Lavelle: What do you want?
Chainz smiles an evil smile as he feels himself in complete control.
Chainz: You know what I want.
He licks the apple before taking a bite out of it. Of course Pierce knows what the sicko Chainz wants, he told him last week.
Pierce Lavelle: Why do you want a dinner date with Sarah?
Chainz: That’s none of your concern.
Pierce Lavelle: What will Tracy have to say about this?
Chainz tosses the apple aside.
Chainz: She’ll do as told and keep her mouth shut. Look, I don’t want to fuck Sarah… well, not at the moment anyway so if you want to keep it that way you’ll set it up.
Pierce Lavelle: But why?
Chainz: Cuz I fucking said so mother fucker. Why so many questions Pierce? Why so eager to open that mouth of yours? Maybe I should open my mouth and start singing a very interesting tune about you?
Pierce immediately looks away from Chainz, afraid to look his tormenter in his eyes.
Pierce Lavelle: No, you keep your mouth shut. We can work this out.
Chainz: Course we can, you know the lock to my mouth.
Pierce Lavelle: But - not that, not Sarah - anything else!
Chainz: There’s nothing else I want Lavelle. You make it happen or I’ll bury you. Believe me when I say it.
Chainz gently slaps Pierce a few times on the cheek and walks away, leaving Pierce scratching his head in worry.
Countdown To Confusion
FEATURING: MIKE WADE, MICKEY MOORE, JACK WADE, PADDY O'SHEA, GARBAGE BAG JOHNNY
AUTHOR: TONY (OOOHHH, PH34R HIS REAL NAME!)
"Wade’s Office"
it reads on the door. Inside it is less like an office and more like a Montessori. Mike Wade sits behind a rather dignified looking desk but it's the presence of various toys and pot plants that makes it look like a jungle. Mike’s ever present life partner Mickey Moore is on the floor playing with two new AWC action figures. Mike’s attention is not on the toys or perhaps watering his plants. It is on something he's got in his hand.
Mickey Moore: Bamn! Take that ya feckin gobshite!
Mickey slams the figures together.
Mickey Moore: Mike?
He gets no reply. It's nothing new. But this time Mike seems like he genuinely doesn't hear his 2 foot 5 inch friend. He's lost in a sea of tranquillity it seems.
Mickey Moore: MIKE??!!!
He breaks Mike’s trance.
Mike Wade: What is it my child?
Mickey Moore: My child? What the feck are you talkin about ya paedophile?
Mike Wade: Sorry Mickey. I was in a deep state of mind.
Mickey Moore: What are them things in your hand?
The camera zooms in on Mike’s hands to reveal some form of beads wrapped in them. A crucifix pokes its head out from beneath them.
Mike Wade: They're my rosary beads Mickey.
Mickey Moore: Are they them things you put up a girls arse when your ridin her?
Mike Wade: No Mickey this device I hold in my hand is not for anal penetration. The only things these babies penetrate is our Lord God.
Mickey Moore: You wanna fuck God?
Mike Wade: I would never do such a thing. Since I've been away from wrestling Mickey I've become more of a spiritual being. A man of God. That reminds me I've only had my body of Christ today, I need my blood...
Mike clicks his fingers and into the shot walks Mike’s less successful but way better looking older brother Jack Wade. Jack is still in tattered rags but is carrying a tray with a glass of red wine. Mike dashes for it and gets it down him, slamming the glass back down and ushering Jack out of shot.
Mike Wade: Needs me blood o' christ.
Mickey Moore: What's on the agenda tonight Mike?
Mike Wade: Send in Bin Bag Johnny and Paddy O’Shea please Mickey.
Mickey Moore: Where are they?
Mike Wade: Well I did ask you to summon them to my abode.
Mickey looks around. He's clearly done nothing. He looks down, grabs his action figures and raises them in the air.
Mike Wade: This is what you've brought me? I have a huge announcement and I have to make it to figures?
Mickey Moore: I can do the voices.
Just then as luck would have it. Paddy O’Shea walks in followed by Garbage Bag Johnny.
Mike Wade: I thought you forgot to call them.
Mickey Moore: So did I...?
Paddy O’Shea: Ye wanted t’ see us Mike?
Garbage Bag Johnny: What's this about? I was busy polishing my scale model of the Eiffel Tower.
Mike Wade: Well Garbage as you know you are the Transatlantic champion, congrads on that by the way.
Garbage Bag Johnny: Thanks! I also own a rather extensive collection of antique pendulums.
Note to Josh K. – never let Hyde write your character EVER again.
Mike Wade: And Paddy here is the number one contender after holding onto the Countdown trophy and you two will face each other at our upcoming pay-per-view – Untouchable!
Mickey Moore: Get to the feckin point.
Mike Wade: Mickey, big boys are talking. Anyway I've devised a stipulation that will work wonders with this match!
Garbage Bag Johnny: And what's that?
Mike Wade: I call it the 30 Minute Tally Match!
Paddy O’Shea: Wha’ the feck is tha’?
Mike Wade: Well you have thirty minutes to get as many pins as you can. Whoever has the most pins, wins!
An awkward silence follows.
Mickey Moore: So it's an Iron Man Ma--?
Mike Wade: Shut up Mickey! Don't. There's a twist. There's 5 minutes of normal action then one minute of Countdown rules. Which means it's one count to a fall. Then 5 minutes of normal, 1 minute of Countdown and so on and so forth till we have ourselves a winner. Because Paddy here won the shot by being Countdown trophy holder you see!
Paddy O’Shea: Sounds good.
Garbage Bag Johnny: I'm confused.
Mickey Moore: Me too.
Mike Wade: Got it? Good. Right lads out of here I've got Jack booked in to do my toenails in five; I gotta strip naked. Catch ye on the flipside. Love that twine belt you got holdin up them pants GBJ, keep it real. Paddy - well you know.
AgentDash vs Aimz
STIPULATION: SINGLES
REFEREE: SELENA SUMNER
AUTHOR: JOSH K.
James Brunt: The following contest is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, from Berkeley, California: AgentDash!
“Tie Me Up! Untie Me!” by mewithoutyou begins to play, and the fans boo, in part because AgentDash is listed as a heel - one who has been speciously absent as of late - and partly because of the overuse of certain pronouns in the title of his entrance music. Dash dashes down to the ring, fully charged and ready to make his attempt at a turnaround happen.
George Cassidy: Is this guy new?
Dave Kern: That’s AgentDash, currently known as Cedric Riley and formerly known as Charles Kensrue and Sean Aspinall – and he holds five victories in AWC!
George Cassidy: That’s far too confusing. Nonetheless, I don’t remember ever seeing him. Maybe he lost weight?
James Brunt: And his opponent, hailing from Halifax, Canada: The Red Raver, Aimz!
“Interlude 12/21” by AFI begins to play, and Aimz bounces out onto the ramp, pumped up and egging on the fan reaction even though it should be noted that Aimz hates AFI. Their choruses are too forcedly anthemic, their lyrics were plagiarized from every high school poetry class ever, and their haircuts should be outlawed. Aimz makes her way to the ring, still appearing a bit ginger from her bout with Chainz at Coast To Coast. Or maybe it’s just her hair.
Dave Kern: I don’t think Aimz is 100 percent yet, but Dash might have a bit of ring rust gathered up. That should make this a very even bout.
George Cassidy: So we’ve got Achy Breaky Fire-Crotch and Rusty McNamechanger going one on one? This should be a match of the year contender.
Dave Kern: Cut the sarcasm, George. Hang on… GEORGE CASSIDY?! What are YOU doing here?
George Cassidy: I have absolutely no idea. Oh I know. Jeff went to chat up underage girls, so I’m filling in for a bit.
Dave Kern: Right…
The bell rings, and AgentDash and Aimz circle each other, sizing up the situation. The two finally break into a collar and elbow tie up where AgentDash immediately uses his rare size advantage opportunity to power Aimz back into the turnbuckle. Dash lets go and swings with a knife edged chop, and Aimz grabs her chest in the corner. Dash hits another chop for good measure before whipping Aimz towards the opposite turnbuckle. Aimz reverses the whip and sends Dash reeling into the corner. As he bounces off, Aimz is there with the follow up to take Dash to the ground with a standing, jumping hurricanrana.
Dave Kern: Looks like Aimz has turned things around quickly on AgentDash here in the opening minutes of this match.
George Cassidy: (imitating a trumpet) Wah wah wah wah wahhhhhhh.
Dave Kern: I want Jeff back.
Aimz is up slowly after the hurricanrana, and Cedric Riley is back to his feet before Amy Campbell can capitalize. Aimz runs at Riley with a spinning heel kick, but Dash catches her in mid air and shoulders her before delivering a running spinebuster. Dash is quick to the top rope where he leaps off with a shooting star press, but Aimz rolls out of the way, and AgentDash eats canvas.
George Cassidy: I think Flip Lazlo was going for too much too soon.
Dave Kern: Who the hell is Flip Lazlo?
George Cassidy: AgentDash.
Dave Kern: AgentDash doesn’t go by Flip Lazlo.
George Cassidy: Not yet, but I’m sure he will eventually.
Dave Kern: I want Jeff back.
Aimz gets to her feet with Dash on his stomach in the center of the ring. She bounces off of the ropes for leverage and lands a sliding dropkick right to AgentDash’s face. Dash holds his face with his hands afterwards, leaving way for Aimz to bounce off of the adjacent ropes and land a flipping splash right across the back of the Agent.
Dave Kern: This one looks to be pretty fast paced, folks. Both competitors have a surprising amount of energy considering the states they should be in.
George Cassidy: That’s the problem with these high flyers. They try to dazzle you with flips and twists, but this isn’t the circus. I hate circuses.
Dave Kern: I want J---
George Cassidy: Jeff back?
Dave Kern: No, Juice. I want Juice.
George Cassidy: Oh, alright. Here you go.
Cassidy hands Kern a carton of juice.
Aimz rolls off of AgentDash and bounces off of the ropes again. This time, Dash, who is pushing himself up, drops back down and Aimz leaps over him. Aimz bounces again off of the ropes, and Riley is there to catch her with a powerslam. He hooks the leg for a pin.
ONE!
Aimz kicks out with relative ease, but Dash is still in control. He pulls Aimz back to her feet and whips her off of the ropes. Dash follows through with a lariat that Aimz successfully ducks under. The two bounce off the ropes and head to meet each other in the middle where Dash slides under a leapfrog. Aimz lands in place, and AgentDash quickly rises behind her, locking Aimz in for a German suplex. Dash bridges for the pin.
ONE!
Aimz kicks out again.
Dave Kern: It’s still too early in this match for Aimz to have lost much of her fight, but Dash seems to be taking advantage of his size.
George Cassidy: So what? Flex Poonthrower can suplex a woman. Is that supposed to be impressive or something?
Dave Kern: Aren’t you supposed to be cheering for the heel?
George Cassidy: Meh. I could go either way on this one.
Ghost of Steven Smith: Did someone say “go either way?”
George Cassidy: Uh, no…I said, uh, go a-way.
As the ghost disappears in a puff of pink polo shirted smoke, Dash pulls Aimz up again. He sends a boot towards Aimz’ gut, but she is prepared this time and catches his foot. Aimz spins Dash around, and upon his dizzying return, she kicks him in the gut and plants him with an implant DDT. This time Aimz goes for the pin.
ONE!
AgentDash kicks out as the two count nears.
Dave Kern: Aimz and AgentDash are both looking to get the win on this one fairly quickly.
George Cassidy: I just hope someone’s willing to take a loss fairly quickly as well.
Aimz gets back to her feet, awaiting Dash, who has rolled to the outside of the ring holding his head. He walks around to catch his breath, but Aimz gives him little to no recovery time as she suicide dives through the ropes and causes a heap of limbs outside the ring. Aimz pulls Dash up and tosses him shoulder first into the guard rail. Aimz tries to set Dash up for a front suplex onto the rail, but she can barely get him up. Dash shifts his weight and counters, suplexing Aimz into the front row of seats.
Dave Kern: I’m glad that security fence is gone. It made this whole place feel a bit communist.
Aimz pulls herself up on the guardrail, but she is sent back into the chairs with a smart sidekick that Dash had kept in store. Dash climbs over the guard rail and tosses some chairs aside before tossing Aimz over the guard rail again and following. Dash rolls in and out of the ring to break the ten count before pulling Aimz up and whipping her into the steel steps. Aimz collides with the steps knees first and flips over them onto her back, right in front of the announce tables.
Dave Kern: The action’s getting a little too close to comfort. Maybe we need that security fence.
George Cassidy: We need a security fence like we need a bag of assholes.
AgentDash climbs onto the apron and waits for Aimz to get back to her feet. Dash runs at Aimz and springboards with open legs over the top of the turnbuckle post before twisting into a corkscrew body press with Aimz on the receiving end. Both competitors stay down for a while as referee Selena Summers continues on with her ten count.
Dave Kern: Halfway through the count out, and it looks like AgentDash is the first to move, but Aimz isn’t too far behind.
The two pull themselves up on the apron, and an unaware AgentDash rolls in and out of the ring again to break up the count. Meanwhile, Aimz is waiting outside for him, and she kicks Dash in the gut and spins him so that his face is resting on the edge of the ring apron. She then climbs to the top of the nearest turnbuckle.
George Cassidy: I think she’s going to give Dash a curbie!
Aimz leaps off, attempting to flatten Dash’s skull, but AgentDash moves out of the way, and Aimz lands uncomfortably split-legged on the apron. Dash climbs up the apron behind her and folds her inside out, leaping off with a flipping neckbreaker from behind! Both tumble off of the apron. Selena starts counting again.
ONE! TWO! THREE!
Dave Kern: Now that was an impressive maneuver!
FOUR! FIVE! SIX!
AgentDash gets up and slides into the ring as the referee’s count nears eight. Aimz is just beginning to stir, but she gets into the ring by 9, much to the shocked chagrin of the livid AgentDash. Dash beckons Aimz to come after him, but Aimz hesitates, and finally Dash loses patience and charges at Aimz with a diving shoulder tackle. The tackle grazes Aimz enough for her to be pushed backwards into the ropes. She bounces off of the ropes and Dash nails her with the Agent Kick!
Dave Kern: Oh, Agent Kick, and Aimz goes stumbling against the ropes… STARSTRUCK!
George Cassidy: Huh? Oh.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Dave Kern: IT’S OVER! IT’S OVER! AGENTDASH TAKES A MASSIVE VICTORY AWAY WITH HIM! HE’S DEFEATED AIMZ WITH HIS STARSTRUCK FINISHER!
George Cassidy: Just like that?
Fucking Lions
FEATURING: SARAH KENNEDY
AUTHOR: PIERRE HYDE
Well Sarah Kennedy, she’s got her mobile phone to her ear, and Sarah Kennedy, she doesn’t sound too happy.
An exterior of calm, certainly, but if we could see inside... the words “Fit”, “of” and “pique” might come to mind.
Sarah Kennedy: And you didn’t say no.
The bitterness in her voice could counteract the sweetest of chocolates as the man we all know is on the other end of the line remonstrates with her. Bitterness breeds a sarcastic incredulity as the AWC interviewer repeats herself:
Sarah Kennedy: And you didn’t say no.
Now you can see, the chest rising and falling, the colour coming to her face... it’s only a matter of seconds before she really flips. And the next words pull the trigger.
Sarah Kennedy: What do you MEAN you need time to think? Think about WHAT, Pierce? Whether you’re going to throw me into a room with a rapist? Well throw me to the fucking lions for all I care; just know this: you’re NOT going to be the one to swoop in and save me, Pierce; not this time!
She snaps her phone shut.
Sarah Kennedy just broke out the “fuck” on TV.
That’s Sarah Kennedy.
AWC really must be going to the dogs.
Thanks And Threats
FEATURING: DARCY CRISIS, AIMZ
AUTHORS: NATE AND KATIE
“Superunknown” by Soundgarden abruptly overtakes the SECC, catching the Scottish fans off-guard.
Jeff Marx: What the… what year is this? This is 2006, right?
Dave Kern: Indeed it is, and it looks like we’re about to be joined by the new Frontier champion!
Jeff Marx: Ah, yes… Mr. Crisis changed his theme music. I don’t think he knows that music has been made since 1994. It’s not like they just stopped.
Sure enough, Darcy Crisis appears from behind the curtain, with his newly acquired Frontier Title resting atop his right shoulder. The normal explosion that complements his entrance to the ring is absent, but he moves down the ramp with the familiar sense of urgency as Chris Cornell chimes in.
If this isn’t what you see,
It doesn’t make you blind…
If this doesn’t make you feel,
It doesn’t mean you’ve died…
Dave Kern: Well the Darcinator isn’t scheduled to wrestle tonight, to the best of my knowledge. Any idea what brings him out here, Jeff?
Jeff Marx: I can’t say for sure, but I think I can guess. My sources tell me that almost everybody’s head in California literally exploded after the L.A. Dodgers hit four homeruns in the 9th inning the other night. He must be out here to issue condolences.
Dave Kern: Jeff, not only have you managed to top yourself in the “Ridiculous Things Said” department, you’ve also managed to alienate all of our European fans.
Jeff Marx: Oh, I’m dreadfully sorry. For all of you English folks at home, picture a striker bowling three snookers and an extra. THAT level of pandemonium.
Kern has no time to inquire as to whether Marx has even the slightest idea how to play cricket, as during their banter Darcy obtained a microphone and appeared ready to speak his mind. The look on his face is unmistakably somber, as if he’s ready to pour his heart out on live television. But with a wink, the Darcinator breaks into a grin and turns to face the crowd.
Darcy Crisis: Goooood eveniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing, GLASGOW!
The cheap pop attempt never fails, and Darcy receives a roar from the raucous Scotsmen (and lasses) in attendance.
Darcy Crisis: Right on! I’m glad to hear it. We’ve got a full card tonight, and from the way things usually go around here, plenty of shenanigans headed our way as well. So I won’t take up too much of your time, but there’s something I’ve really got to get off my chest.
Dave Kern: (quietly) What could it be?
Jeff Marx: I’m telling you Dave, all of California had a collective coronary.
Darcy Crisis: Last week on Fresh!, a man came out here and said goodbye to the AWC. The very man who took me to the wire at Coast To Coast, and a guy who’s really going to be missed around here. You know him, you love him… he was the Lion, Anton Assault.
An audible round of applause from the crowd can be heard, perhaps to posthumously congratulate the former two-time Frontier champion, and perhaps congratulating Darcy for taking the time out to recognize him. A small “ANTON! ANTON!” chant breaks out. Darcy then turns his gaze to the camera providing the television feed, staring into the screen.
Darcy Crisis: Lion, if you’re watching this tonight, there’s something I want you to know. I respect you for the apology you offered me last week, but here’s the deal: you have nothing to apologize for. Maybe the reasons you came to face me were, as you say, marred… and yes, maybe it was slightly tainted by the fact that Billy Mays is a fat fuck and Luis Ferrara reminds me of a cross between Tony Montana and Gargamel from the Smurfs…
Darcy deadpans it perfectly, and even straight-man Marx can’t help but chuckle at the comparison, as he shares a quick laugh with the crowd.
Darcy Crisis: But regardless of how it came to pass, it was a hell of a match, buddy. I’ve been in my fair share of championship matches… I’ve won a few. I’ve lost a hell of a lot more, I can tell you that. I’ve competed with and against the greatest names of this industry. But let me tell you, Lion… our match will be the one I tell my grandkids about. I could never have done what I did if you hadn’t pushed me to a level I didn’t know I had.
Dave Kern: Truly heartfelt words for Anton Assault!
Jeff Marx offers no reply, but a mysterious, quiet sob can be overheard.
Darcy Crisis: So Anton, I just want to say… thanks. Thank you for the match of my life, and on behalf of the AWC faithful, thank you for your time here. And just so you know, if you ever change your mind and decide to come back…
Darcy grasps the golden title from his shoulder, slowly raising it aloft.
Darcy Crisis: …if you want a rematch for the Frontier title, minus all the celebrity brouhaha… you just name the time and place, and you’re on!
Another round of cheers are elicited from the Glasgow crowd.
Darcy Crisis: Now, if I could just…
Suddenly, Darcy finds himself interrupted by a series of eerily ringing bells. The mystery is quickly answered as AFI’s Davey Havok croons the beginning of “Prelude 12/21.”
Dave Kern: Here comes the Frontier champion’s leading lady!
The haunting and obnoxiously catchy drum claps kick in, but as Davey presses on, he isn’t joined by the appearance of the Red Raver. The crowd seems baffled that Aimz hasn’t made her way onto the stage, but if Darcy shares them in their confusion, he doesn’t show it. His eyes locked on the stage, he stands motionless.
Jeff Marx: Leave it to a woman to keep us all---
Before Marx can finish his shock value sexism, Aimz does make her appearance – on the big screen. Both Darcy and the thousands in attendance stare up at Amy’s enormous visage.
Aimz: Hey, Darcy… remember me? Your girlfriend?
Darcy offers no reply, somehow gathering the idea that she wasn’t looking for an answer.
Aimz: Yeah, that’s right everybody. My ever-so-adoring boyfriend has done his best to keep it all under wraps, but things aren’t so great in Darcy-Amyland. In fact, this is the first face-to-face conversation we’ve had in almost two weeks.
Jeff Marx: He hasn’t talked to his lady in two weeks? I’d like to know how the hell he managed that! Darcy Crisis is my new hero!
Dave Kern: Jeff, please… try to show at least a semblance of class.
Aimz: You know Darcy, in spite of everything that’s happened lately, I was still so happy for you when you won that title you hold so proudly. I know how much it must have meant to you, probably more than anybody. But even then, after all we’ve been through, and how much I’ve fucking DONE for you, you still couldn’t find it in yourself to make this right. You said you needed space – I gave it to you. But you can’t do this to me anymore, dammit…
The Red Raver indeed still had her pride, which she was doing her best to maintain along with her composure. She appeared to be doing a good job, as the crowd seemed unaware, but Darcy knew the look she bared on her face well. It was the look she adorned when she knew her eyes were about to well up.
Aimz: Well unlike you, I have the balls to do something about this. I’m going to make it right, here and now…
The camera showing Amy’s image, pans back, showing that she is standing outside a locker room. And it isn’t just any locker room – the dark black label reading “CHAINZ” in a contrasting shade of white made that clear.
Aimz: You see Darcy, I’ve decided to forego the usual post-match shower and pay a visit to an old, dear friend. I’ve got it on very good authority that he enjoys the smell of competition. You have until the end of the night to stop me, Darcy. I believe you said something to me about having a “very important choice to make?” Time’s up, Darcy. Make your choice.
With that, Amy disappears from the screen. Every person who bore witness to what just transpired looks stunned. A bewildered murmur comes up from the crowd as Darcy, who looks like he just saw a ghost, slowly lowers his microphone until he drops it just to his left. Even Kern and Marx seem too taken aback to offer any commentary, as the Darcinator takes his leave of the ring and makes his way toward the back. Some of the folks in attendance pop for this, thinking he’s on his way to stop his girlfriend from making a terrible, unconscionable decision. But as he disappears behind the curtain, it’s anything but clear.
Chainz vs Teresa Tomas
STIPULATION: HAGGIS
REFEREE: JOSEPH REID
AUTHOR: PIERRE HYDE
Dave Kern: Now---
Jeff Marx: It’s time for a HAGGIS BEATDOWN! Ready? Let’s go!
Dave Kern: OK, but first up I'm informed that not all of our viewers worldwide will be quite familiar with the concept of a haggis. Here in Scotland, the haggis---
Jeff Marx: Come on Dave, everybody knows this! A haggis is a small, four-legged Scottish Highlands creature, whose limbs on one side are shorter than on the other.
Dave Kern: Er---
Jeff Marx: No, it makes sense – so they can run around the hills at a steady altitude; providing they’re going the right way. However if a haggis becomes disoriented and starts to run around in the wrong direction, it is easy to catch.
Dave Kern: Jeff?
Jeff Marx: Dave.
Dave Kern: A haggis is a Scottish dish made with the heart, lungs and liver of a sheep, along with spices and oatmeal, and boiled and served in the sheep’s stomach.
Jeff Marx: Hahahahahaha! That’s the funniest thing I’ve heard all day!
Dave Kern: Except it’s true. Folks, haggises – haggae? – are actually illegal in the US because of laws preventing us from preparing animals’ lungs for human consumpti---
Jeff Marx: Dave, you’re lying, and I have proof: I once went on a haggis-hunting trip in the Highlands.
Dave Kern: Jeff... I think you may’ve been conned there. Just maybe.
Jeff Marx: No, because – we were looking for disoriented haggises! That were running round the hills the wrong way – so they’re easy to catch, see!
Dave sighs.
Dave Kern: Anyway, let’s hand over to Pierre Perroquet and his trusty parrot...
Parrot of Perroquet: SHUTUPGAY!
Dave Kern: Hey!
Parrot of Perroquet: Heyyyyyy!
Jeff Marx: It sounds just like Fonzie! Hahaha!
Parrot of Perroquet: Heyyyyy!
Dave Kern: Oh shut up!
Parrot of Perroquet: SHUTUPGAY!
Pierre Perroquet: Ze following match...
“Cure” by The Wild Colonials begins to play as Chainz steps brusquely out through the curtain, a smirk on his face. Being led after him by the arm, having to half-trot to keep up with her lover’s big strides, is Tracy Stanton.
Dave Kern: I'm worried about Tracy. She looks horribly thin; you can kinda see her ribs...
Jeff Marx: She’s HOT!
Dave sighs.
Pierre Perroquet: ...it eez an ‘aggis match!
Parrot of Perroquet: MERDE! MERDE!
Pierre Perroquet: Eentroducing first, being accompagné by Tracy, from Beer-ming-ga’am, Alabama, weighing in at 295 pounds... CHAINZ!
Chainz turns and gives Tracy a rough kiss on the mouth before ascending the ring steps.
Jeff Marx: Where are the haggises? BRING OUT THE HAGGISES! I want to be proved right!
Dave Kern: You haven’t got a hope in---
Without warning a cannon is heard blasting through the speakers.
Jeff Marx: Hell!
With the lights dim and a red glow infusing the stage, white pyros explode from either side of the entrance ramp creating a thick blanket of white smoke. “Big Guns” by AC/DC floods the building. Teresa Tomas steps through the smoke. A cigarette hangs from the corner of her mouth. She is decked out in faded Levi’s and a black ¼-sleeve t-shirt with the words written in metallic chrome “What’s YOUR Excuse?” Teresa stops midway down the ramp to release a final puff of cigarette smoke before removing the cancer stick from her lips. She glances to her right, then to her left giving the fans an empty stare before dropping the burning butt to at her feet, then stomps it with her boot before making her journey to the ring.
Pierre Perroquet: (distastefully) And ‘is opponent... being accompanied by ‘er see-garette...
Parrot of Perroquet: DEGOUTANT!
Pierre Perroquet: ...from Nashville, Tennessee, weighing in at 145 pounds... TERESA TOMAS!
Dave Kern: Teresa Tomas, the Top Rope Temptress... one of the few women in AWC completely unfazed by the man she’s about to take on in this match.
As Tomas moves into the ring, Valerie Layne, head of AWC security, appears at the top of the ramp, pushing a large supermarket trolley ahead of her. It is piled high with haggises of every variety; big and small; cooked and raw; authentic, cheap, organic, and vegetarian.
Dave Kern: There’s our weaponry, folks – Jeff?
Jeff Marx: I... I don’t believe it... I... I'm GOING TO SUE THE HIGHLANDS WILD HAGGIS HUNTING AUTHORITY!
Parrot of Perroquet: SUCKER! SUCKER!
Dave Kern: I'm going to kill that bird!
The parrot wisely disappears in a flurry of feathers, while the odoursome Frenchman himself vacates the ring to allow Joseph Reid to step in between Teresa Tomas and Chainz – the latter licking his lips. Chainz is brought back to his senses a little by the sound of Tracy screaming her best wishes from the side of the ring; he turns and slowly nods to Stanton as the bell rings. Immediately Tomas rushes into action, knowing how important first strike can be against a monster like Chainz. Sloan is aware, though, and turns to face her straight on as she approaches; undaunted, Teresa converts her clothesline attempt to go down and slide through Chainz’s legs. Lumbering to turn around, Chainz is not quick enough and takes a snap kick to the chest from the enthusiastic Southerner.
Dave Kern: Teresa Tomas getting the better of Chainz in that early exchange.
Jeff Marx: She’d better enjoy it while it lasts.
Valerie Layne parks her trolley at ringside and begins tossing haggises indiscriminately into the ring. Tomas eagerly catches one and squats down to inspect it, tearing open the cardboard packaging. Chainz is getting to his feet, his hand to his chest where he was kicked, and a frown on his brow. Tracy Stanton storms over to Valerie Layne.
Dave Kern: I don’t think Tracy and Chainz are too happy that AWC’s Head of Security is taking it upon herself to dictate the frequency of haggis usage in this match.
Jeff Marx: Yeah, they realise that Chainz can destroy Tomas as it is, and any foreign weaponry can only help the cause of his smaller, weaker opponent.
Layne ignores Tracy and goes to throw another, this time not packaged, haggis over the ropes. Stanton shoots out her arms to stop her, blocking the throw and grabbing hold of one side of the haggis. With a frustrated scowl, Valerie Layne rips the filled sheep’s stomach out of Tracy’s puny arms. But Tracy knows that Chainz definitively does not want a ring invaded by a hundred haggises; and she’s going to follow those instructions to the damn letter. She hangs on doggedly, and momentarily the stomach lining rips open.
SPLAT.
Dave Kern: Oh my.
There’s offal all over the floor.
Valerie Layne: You fuckin’ stupid bitch! Clear that fuckin’ shit up right now!
Both women have now let the haggis drop and are staring at each other with hatred in their eyes. In the ring, Teresa Tomas tries to engage Chainz, but he knocks her away with an impatient arm and she rolls onto her back, breathing heavily. Chainz is too busy watching the confrontation developing below him.
Valerie Layne: You ‘eard me! Get down on yer hands and knees and scrub it good!
Chainz: She’s no scrubber!
Channelling the spirit of Britain’s own Libertines, Chainz shouts out in defiance and slides out of the ring, decking Layne with a stiff right arm. Joseph Reid begins to count Chainz out: ONE!.
Jeff Marx: Chainz just took Valerie Layne out!
Dave Kern: What a... er... heinous---
Jeff Marx: You mean, deserved?
Dave Kern: Well, yeah. Chainz had better be careful, now; the count-out...
TWO!
Jeff Marx: There’s no urgency, though; Sasha’s gone so we are back to a ten-count these days.
Dave Kern: That’s right.
Chainz puts his arms around Tracy, making sure she is OK, and then tells her to get out of the way. She does so. Teresa Tomas, now on her feet, saunters over and rests her arms on the turnbuckle as she watches Chainz crouch down and grab Valerie Layne. THREE! To huge cheers from the crowd, who absolutely hate the fat, abusive security lady, Chainz turns Layne over towards the remains of the haggis and...
Jeff Marx: RUB HER FACE IN IT! YEAH!
Dave Kern: Sickening! Unbelievable! Disgusting!
Jeff Marx: And damn satisfying! Valerie Layne’s getting what’s been coming to her!
Chainz forces Layne’s face into the offal, making sure it is smeared all over her. He now stands (FOUR!) and rolls back into the ring.
Dave Kern: AWC television has sunk to a new low.
Teresa Tomas immediately gets in some kicks while Chainz gets to his feet, but the 295-pounder is not to be deterred. Now starting to panic as Chainz rubs his bloody hands together, Tomas backs into the ropes and comes off with a clothesline. She connects... but Chainz isn’t even thrown off balance, let alone to the canvas.
Jeff Marx: He won’t go down! When Chainz is in the mood like this, nobody and nothing can stop him!
Both of Sloan’s hands suddenly shoot out, grabbing THE American Woman around the neck in a two-handed choke. Joseph Reid smirks, liking Chainz’s style, and doesn’t even bother to count him; Chainz slowly but consistently lifts the beetroot-faced Tomas off the mat.
Dave Kern: Chainz has Teresa Tomas in a chokehold! And the referee’s doing nothing about it!
Tracy urges Chainz on as he lifts Tomas even higher.
Jeff Marx: Look at her neck – as if it weren’t red enough from the imprint of Chainz’s fingers, blood is getting smeared all over it too from that ripped-open haggis outside the ring. That thing must remind Chainz of a certain Ally Nash---
Dave Kern: Oh, no, Jeff, not now, please. The less said about Ellis Nash’s sister and what happened to her, the better.
Chainz slams Tomas down to the mat in a powerful double-handed choke slam!
Jeff Marx: That’s what they call a power play!
Dave Kern: Ferocious choke slam.
Chainz makes the cover, his lateral press forcing down Teresa’s shoulders.
ONE!
TWO!
Dave Kern: Tomas thwarts the pin attempt.
Jeff Marx: A couple more big moves like that, though, and this lady’s beat.
Dave Kern: In the clash of short-term Countdown trophy holders, so far Chainz is looking the stronger.
Jeff Marx: Countdown trophy... God, I miss Vince Jones. When’s he coming back?!
Dave Kern: As far as we know, Jeff, he’s still missing... a terrible, terrible situation for that misguided young man, and of course for Jasmine---
Jeff Marx: What about LaShonda?!
Valerie Layne has now got to her indignant feet and is wiping the offal from her face with her fat fingers. Some blood has trickled into her mouth; a small bit of lung is stuck to her chin...
Dave Kern: ...I think I'm gonna hurl.
Jeff Marx: Dave, I know Teresa Tomas has a pretty fucked up face, but can’t you at least – oh.
Dave Kern: Yeah.
Chainz paces the ring, his formidable form dominant as Tomas sits up, still in a daze, her breath rasping through her throat in recovery from the lengthy choke hold. Layne yells to referee Joseph Reid to have the match terminated and awarded to Teresa Tomas; Reid turns up his nose and ignores her.
Dave Kern: I think Valerie Layne is trying to get Chainz disqualified for his attack on her!
Jeff Marx: No! That was her own fault, for even getting involved in the first place!
Chainz picks up a length of frozen haggis from the canvas and inspects it. Chainz has his back to Tomas, and as she rises she immediately galvanises herself into this opportunity... big mistake. Chainz twists like he’s doing the hammer throw, his arms extended to their full length to swing the rock-hard frozen haggis into the side of Tomas’ head. There is a loud and sickening thud, and Tomas falls flat on her face. Chainz doesn’t stop there, though; swivelling once more, he releases the haggis, again just as if performing the hammer throw in the Olympics, and it sails through the air before crunching against Layne’s head at ringside. Valerie Layne goes down with a big thud and Tracy leaps up and down on the spot, cheering and laughing.
Jeff Marx: Two birds with one stone! Two damnably ugly birds with one stone, that is!
Chainz then grabs the cardboard box next to him that contains a supermarket-prepared, microwaveable mini haggis. Ripping open the packaging, Chainz holds the small, vaguely tubular object up to the light, looking at it from every angle. Then, steeling himself, he bites into it.
Jeff Marx: Eww! That’s sheep heart in there.
Dave Kern: And lungs, and liver, and---
Jeff Marx: Enough!
Dave Kern: Well we wouldn’t have expected anything less from Chainz.
Chainz chews the mouthful slowly, then his face begins to grimace. Turning away, he spits the ball of barely edible food onto the mat, to huge jeers from the predominantly Scottish crowd. Yells of “Ya pansy!” are heard, while some bagpipes begin to play and everyone, for some unknown but premeditated reason, flashes what’s under their kilt.
Jeff Marx: Agh! I'm blinded!
Dave Kern: So is Chainz! This could be Teresa’s way in!
Crawling to her feet, oblivious to the ghoulies of a thousand angry Scotsmen, all Tomas knows is that Chainz is clutching desperately at his face. Tracy, meanwhile, has fainted. Teresa jumps into action...
Dave Kern: Dropkick to the back of the knee! That’s the set-up!
Jeff Marx: Fuck your Scotch single malt, because we’re going down for some Southern Comfort!
Tomas grabs Chainz’s right arm and wrenches it up and behind his back. Crossing her body over his, she now reaches for his leg – but Mike Sloan flicks it up into her face!
Dave Kern: Teresa taken by surprise with a kick to the face! Chainz could save this yet!
Still in a dominant position over Chainz, Tomas reaches once again for the leg of Chainz. But she is taken aback by the vociferous chants, the anger in the yelling of the names: ”GLENMORANGIE!” “GLENFIDDICH!” “GLENLIVET!”
Dave Kern: They’re fiercely proud of their whisky in Scotland! Fiercely! And I think Teresa’s just earned herself anoth---
Jeff Marx: NOOOO! Cover your eyes!
The Scotsmen do their bit – or rather their bits – and Tomas’ body collapses with a small shudder. Chainz rolls out from under her and easily manoeuvres his opponent’s limp body into position for his powerbomb...
Jeff Marx: It’s over!
Double powerbomb!
Dave Kern: THE CHAIN REACTION! ONTO A HAGGIS! AND IT’S BURST; IT’S SPURTING ALL OVER THE PLACE!
Jeff Marx: TERESA TOMAS LIES IN A POOL OF BLOOD, haha!
Dave Kern: At least it isn’t her own! And the pin!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Jeff Marx: Chainz wins! Chainz wins!
Dave Kern: The monster comes out on top in a crazy Haggis match, affected in no small part by some serious crowd participation here...
Jeff Marx: I'm not sure that I’ll ever recover!
Change Your Mind?
FEATURING: DARCY CRISIS, SARAH KENNEDY
AUTHOR: NATE
The feed switches to catch Darcy Crisis moving through the back with a definite purpose in mind. But with a gray “East Bay Execution” hoodie now adorned, as well as a duffel bag thrown around his shoulder, he appears headed not in Aimz’ direction… but the exit’s.
As he moves toward the exit, a frantic Sarah Kennedy catches up to him with a microphone in hand. Darcy, however, seems completely unwilling to break pace, and both the camera man and Sarah scramble to keep up with him as AWC’s leading question lady looks for some answers. Her personal life in turmoil, she buries herself in her job – the only way she knows to bury her feelings and keep them from spilling over.
Sarah Kennedy: Darcy, wait! Do you have any comment on the situation we just saw with you in the ring?
Without so much as glancing at Kennedy, the Darcinator gives his comment.
Darcy Crisis: If Amy thinks for one minute that I’m going to take this bait, she’s got another thing coming. She’s got some nerve pulling this kind of crap on live television, and I refuse to be part of it.
Sarah Kennedy: Where are you going?
Darcy Crisis: Airport.
Sarah Kennedy: But what about---
Darcy Crisis: Don’t care.
Sarah Kennedy: Not even---
Darcy Crisis: Nope.
The moonlit Scottish evening now in sight, Darcy redoubles his efforts to escape the terrible situation he was more than unwilling to face. He begins to distance himself from Kennedy, who appears reluctant to chase the man down, but suddenly interjects. She’s not normally one to offer her own commentary on a situation, especially one has volatile as the one facing the reluctant interviewee making his exit. However, given her own experiences with Michael Sloan, and especially what has happened tonight, she can’t help herself.
Sarah Kennedy: Darcy, wait just a minute!
Somehow, her words cause Darcy to stop in his tracks. He turns and closes the small gap between them rapidly as he gets closer to Kennedy than she probably wanted.
Darcy Crisis: What? WHAT?!
Sarah gulped, clearly unwilling to disturb the already disturbed Frontier champion any further. But she’s a professional, and she asks the question burning inside of her, as well as everyone else:
Sarah Kennedy: Darcy… are you really going to let her go in there… with that monster?
Darcy lets out a deep sigh. He knew his decision didn’t sit well with Kennedy, nor did it likely sit well with the crowd who’d seen what happened. To tell the truth, Darcy wasn’t so sure that he was okay with his own decision. But the man had made up his mind, and he wasn’t afraid to admit how he got there.
Darcy Crisis: I’ve known Amy for a long time. Longer than anybody here. And in that time, I’ve seen her make one bad decision after another. If she wants to make another… so be it. But I’m not going to stick around this time to see how it turns out.
Darcy gives one last glare at Kennedy before heading out the door, leaving both her and his estranged girlfriend behind… knowing full well it could be for the last time.
Tiny Little Fractures
FEATURING: THE EMPIRE
AUTHOR: PIERRE HYDE
David Harber: Really, where the hell is Pierce Lavelle?
There’s no answer from Juggernaut Kintu, who is staring out of the window again, nor from Gabriel Afeaki, who is sullen in the corner with his music again. Kasidy Drake’s not in the sky-box and for someone at the head of what is supposed to be a power stable, the power stable, the fucking EMPIRE, David Harber feels horribly alone.
David Harber: Does he not realise that being part of The Empire is more than just a paper accolade?
Kintu stares. Afeaki listens. Harber sighs.
David Harber: I mean, it’s difficult enough with you two but at least you’re here.
Kintu stares. Afeaki listens. Nobody cares.
David Harber: AWC Untouchable, Friday 13th... less than a month away. It’s supposed to be a display of power, of unity... that no one can touch The Empire. They all thought the name fitted... that AWC was riding a crest after Coast To Coast... but no, no, the crest is all about The Empire. David Harber... Kasidy Drake... Gabriel Afeaki, Juggernaut Kintu and – Pierce Lavelle.
Harber stands.
David Harber: Right, that’s it! Gabs! Juggernaut! Both of you, find Chainz! I'm sick and tired of that lumbering monkey occupying my Empire man night and day. Let’s see just how much of Pierce Lavelle’s time he’ll be able to occupy, even want to occupy, when you’re through with him!
LeVar Kintu stands to attention; Gabriel Afeaki sees this and scrambles to his feet, ripping the earphones out.
Gabriel Afeaki: What did you want?
Harber turns his eyes heavenward.
David Harber: I just briefed Kintu; he’ll fill you in. Now go!, find!, and teach Chainz a lesson. I'm going to... er...
Gabriel Afeaki: (with a trace of amusement) The toilet?
David Harber: (looking flustered) Well, yeah. Now get to it!
Defeat
FEATURING: AIMZ, CHAINZ
AUTHOR: MIKE S.
Aimz appears onscreen, looking slightly pissed, yet almost zombie like. There is no expression in her face as she stares into the camera.
The camera zooms in on the door behind her to reveal her standing in front of Chainz’s locker room. Footsteps are heard, and Aimz’s head turns, and a sweaty and bloody Chainz comes into shot, fresh from his Haggis match with Teresa Tomas.
Chainz: Well well well, red puss, what you want?
He chuckles as he towers over his adversary.
Chainz: You just can’t get enough of me huh?
Suddenly Aimz turns to face him. She looks him in the eyes and walks into his locker room, pulling him in behind her. The door closes behind the two.
Bringing Sexy Back II
FEATURING: EMO KID, FREDROCK~!
AUTHOR: JAMIE ROGERSON
Emo Kid and FREDROCK~! have been travelling aimlessly around the backstage area, since their earlier encounter outside the arena. Emo Kid is on one of his rants about nothing as his companion is nodding agreeing with him.
Emo Kid: White picket fences are the prisons of suburbia…
FREDROCK~! comes to a halt outside the men’s toilets. Emo Kid looks puzzled as he questions what FREDROCKS~! motive is.
Emo Kid: Why are we stopping here?
FREDROCK~!: This is where it is.
Emo Kid: David Harber’s office?
FREDROCK~!: No!
Emo Kid: You said you knew where he would be.
FREDROCK~!: Yeah I do, I just need a poo first.
Emo Kid: The Harber thing is a lot more important.
FREDROCK~!: I can’t boogie on a full stomach.
Emo Kid: Either way you suck.
FREDROCK~!: I’ll work my charm don’t worry.
FREDROCK~! wanders into the men’s toilets. He walks up to one of the urinals and pulls down his trunks. He smiles at somebody using the next urinal. The strapping young gentleman looks down in repulsion, seemingly holding back some vomit that was making its way up at FREDROCKS~! ‘I’m having a Poo-Poo face’. Emo Kid barges into the toilets.
Emo Kid: So what does this guy look like?
FREDROCK~!: What guy?
Emo Kid: David Harber!
The gentleman standing next to the two turns his head away trying to avoid being noticed.
FREDROCK~!: Oh, I have a picture in my pocket.
Emo Kid reaches into FREDROCK~! pocket as a gooey swish is heard.
Emo Kid: Eww…
FREDROCK~!: Well, yeah…
Emo Kid analyses the picture in his hand for several seconds, they both turn and look at the gentleman standing next to them. Emo Kid holds up the picture and compares it to the man. The gentleman quickly zips his pants up.
Gentleman: Crap!
FREDROCK~!: There he is!
Emo Kid: Is that a 12-inch promise ring in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?
David Harber: Just get out of here!
FREDROCK~! uses his hand to wipe his arse clean before pulling his trunks up and extending it out to David Harber.
David Harber: Let’s make this quick or I might just have to set the boys on you. What do you want.
It sounds like more of a statement than a question. Hence my lovely punctuation.
FREDROCK~!: We want to become a duo but not in a gay way.
Emo Kid becomes slightly upset at the gay thing as David Harber begins to laugh hysterically. He pulls himself together and realizes the two of them aren’t joking.
David Harber: Err… no!
Harber tries to leave but Emo Kid stops him.
Emo Kid: Boogie time Fredrock~!
One of the cubical doors swings open as a guy sitting on the toilet starts to play the bagpipe. FREDROCK~! comically makes his way through vintage moves such as the robot, moonwalk and several moves he learnt watching Pee Wee's Playhouse. David Harber is staring stone-faced at the two before he makes a swift exit without being noticed. Several minutes later the music dies down as FREDROCK~! and Emo Kid nearly in tears realise they blew it. They make their way out of the toilets and into corridor. Mike Wade is leaning against the wall opposite to the toilets. He smiles and speaks to the pair of them.
Mike Wade: Evening lads…
Emo Kid and FREDROCK~! gaze bewilderingly at Mike Wade.
Mike Wade: I’ll make this short and sweet. I overheard you guys want a match together, right?
They both nod at the prospects that they might be able to wrestle.
Mike Wade: I'm the Commissioner around here. And I say sure: I can’t see any harm in that.
Mike Wade carries on his merry way as FREDROCK~! and Emo Kid both hug each other.
FREDROCK~!: Wow… he’s a nice guy.
Emo Kid: There’s one problem though; we can’t wrestle.
FREDROCK~!: I can!
Emo Kid: Yeah, but you’re shit.
The excitement quickly turns bitter as the happy campers of puff their cheeks out and huff, not realising what they’ve gone and got themselves into.
Futile Opposition
FEATURING: CHAINZ, TRACY STANTON, GABRIEL AFEAKI, JUGGERNAUT KINTU, PIERCE LAVELLE
AUTHOR: MIKE S.
Chainz rests in a chair in his locker room exhausted after his match earlier in the night with Teresa Tomas. He has showered and is dressed in a nice pair of black slacks with a nice dress shirt, obviously dressing up for somewhere after the show.
Tracy walks out of the bathroom, having her makeup applied. She’s looking stunning, decked out in a slinky one piece black dress that sparkles on her tan body. She looks worried as grabs her bag and approaches her fiancé.
Tracy: Michael, let’s get going.
Chainz: Why the rush baby, we’ve got all night.
Tracy: Look I was by The Empire’s sky-box earlier and I didn’t like the looks they were giving me.
Chainz: They’re just trying to imagine how it must feel like to be me at night.
She doesn’t appreciate the comment.
Tracy: Seriously Michael, I got some bad vibes from them. I have a bad feeling about this night which is why we need to hurry up and get out of here.
Chainz: Alright alright, let’s go.
Chainz rises to his feet and grabs his bag. As he turns to walk out of his locker room the door suddenly opens and the frame is completely covered by Gabriel Afeaki’s giant frame. The Fijian, looking completely disinterested, steps inside the locker room, leaving the frame to be covered by an even bigger man. LeVar Kintu ducks down a tad and steps inside the locker room as well, blocking the door frame.
Chainz is surprised to find himself actually having to look up at someone.
Gabriel Afeaki: (throwing back his hood) Hello Mr. Sloan. We need to have a chat.
Chainz: I’m a bit busy, if you could come back in a few minutes.
Gabriel Afeaki: I don’t think so.
Chainz looks a bit worried as he stands next to the monsters. The three HUGE men all stare at each other. Tracy seems like a toothpick in between the men with her 5’7” 100 pound frame. She gets close to Chainz, afraid of the men around her.
Chainz: It’s okay honey, why don’t you go get me a beer.
Tracy: But Michael…
Chainz: Go.
She looks up at Chainz’ determined eyes and then walks towards the door which is still blocked by Kintu. She stops in front of him and stares up at him with her big eyes. Kintu doesn’t move, keeping the door blocked.
Chainz nervously looks at Afeaki and Kintu, almost pleading with them to let his fiancée go.
Gabriel Afeaki: Alright, out.
Kintu steps aside and Tracy scampers out of the locker room, leaving the three men to their fate.
Chainz: I don’t know if you know who I am, but I’m someone you don’t want as an enemy.
His words have no effect.
Chainz: Alright, let’s do it.
Without warning Chainz spears Kintu into the door behind him. He releases Kintu and plants a boot into the watching Afeaki who stumbles back.
Chainz grabs a lamp and crashes it over Kintu’s head, bringing him down to a knee. Afeaki, now raring to go after Chainz kicked him, comes at Chainz and delivers some punches, but finally has one blocked. Chainz plants some blows of his own before lifting the Fijian and slamming him into a wall.
Chainz grabs a chair and as Kintu rises he cracks it over his head, sending Kintu to a knee. Afeaki rises and receives the same treatment. Both men are back on their feet in no time. Chainz delivers another chair shot apiece, but it doesn’t do much.
He sighs and drops the chair, realizing how futile his attempts are against the highly-trained Fijian Animal, and the Serum-pumped Juggernaut.
Chainz: Let’s just get this over with then.
Afeaki smiles and hits Chainz with a massive lariat that sends him to the ground. Chainz is quickly back to his feet and ready to take a beating. LeVar Kintu grabs Chainz and lifts him over his head, slamming him into the ceiling.
Chainz comes crashing down hard and lands on the ground with a thud. Afeaki pushes Kintu aside and drives his foot into Chainz’ gut repeatedly. Afeaki lifts Chainz and pushes him into a wall. He grabs a large piece of the broken lamp and busts it over Chainz’ skull drawing blood.
Kintu comes by and lifts Chainz in the air, dropping him through a coffee table in the middle of the room.
Chainz lies in a heap in the broken remnants of the table, bleeding all over the floor. The two men start to exit the locker room, but a noise stops them.
Chainz is back to his feet, bleeding profusely, but smiling nonetheless.
Chainz: Is that all you got?
Afeaki and Kintu smile as they turn around. Afeaki runs at Chainz and clocks him in the head with a fist. Chainz tries to fight back, but is no shape for combat. Afeaki grabs his head and head butts him to the ground.
Chainz drops and Afeaki begins kicking him. Kintu comes by and shoves Afeaki off of Chainz and begins stomping Chainz himself. He grabs the chair and drives it into the throat of Chainz.
Afeaki snatches the chair from Kintu and starts bringing it down over Chainz’ body and head.
Voice: That’s enough!
Pierce Lavelle bursts through the door and sees Gabriel Afeaki and Juggernaut Kintu completely destroying a defenseless Chainz.
Pierce Lavelle: Harber said to knock him down, not kill him! It’s enough!
Gabriel Afeaki: (inclining his head towards Kintu) Tell that to him.
Gabriel starts planting his boot into Chainz’ jaw causing a stream of crimson red to roll out of Chainz’ mouth. Pierce Lavelle grabs Afeaki and shoves him away from Chainz, taking an elbow in the process.
Pierce Lavelle: That’s enough for one night! Gabs!
Kintu pays no heed and starts clubbing away on the broken body of Chainz. Lavelle shoves Kintu away as well and stands between them and Chainz.
Pierce Lavelle: Like I said, Harber said to hurt him, not kill him. He wants to talk to you. And Gabs, you need to go. To your match.
Juggernaut Kintu turns without a word and heads off. Afeaki watches Chainz a little more, breathing in and out, then throws his hood back over his head, fires up his MP3 player, and strolls away as if nothing has happened.
Pierce Lavelle looks back at the bloody mess behind him and leans in.
Pierce Lavelle: I just saved you. We’re even.
Chainz coughs up some blood and smiles.
Chainz: Not… even… close…
He coughs some more.
Chainz: I… told… you… I… could… take… c-care… of… myself.
With those words Chainz passes out, leaving Lavelle pissed off.
Pierce Lavelle: Son of a bitch.
He stands to his feet and kicks Chainz in the gut before stepping away. Tracy bursts through the door and sees her fiancé on the ground. She runs past Lavelle and drops near her fiancé’s side, crying a river to adjoin his blood.
Tracy: Get some help!
Lavelle snarls.
Pierce Lavelle: He said he could take care of himself.
He leaves the bloody locker room as Tracy tries to awaken Chainz who seems completely unconscious.
Ellis Nash vs Josh Marquez
STIPULATION: FIRST FINISHER
REFEREE: RICHIE TRAVIS
AUTHOR: JAMIE FLETCHER
‘Holy shit’ is written all over this match. The slender, attractive but equally dangerous Ellis Nash going one on one with the risk taking manic, the man who values the fans ticket value above his body Josh Marquez.
Dave Kern: This match is going to be off the charts the build up between these two wrestlers has been intense and straight forward.
Jeff Marx: What my straight ass friend is trying to explain is that these two are going to beat the crap out of each other with little regard as to their own health. Which makes this match awesome if you love unintelligent gymnastics instead of wrestling.
Dave Kern: No! I was going to say Jeff Marx… Are you Betting On Red or do you think Ellis is going to pass a Decree of her own to AWC TONIGHT?
Jeff Marx: With age to get lamer or am I just getting even more brutal.
‘Oblivion’ by Aimee Allen screeches out of the public announcement system. The melodic tune sends the AWC faithful wild as the camera crew hunts the sell out crowd for different Ellis Nash signs and shirts.
Hit the…
Ellis Nash comes out onto the stage to a huge ovation…
MOSH PIT!!!
Ellis Nash marches down the ramp, getting to the bottom of the ramp, she dives under the bottom rope and makes her way to her corner as her music cuts out.
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! If you like to gamble…. !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
A dense smoke covers the entranceway and kart wheeling out of it comes the high flying, gambling, jet setting rich boy, Josh Marquez. Bolting down he ramp Josh slides under the bottom rope in similar fashion to Ellis Nash showing just as much enthusiasm as she did.
By now Ace of Spades had whipped the crowd into a frenzy and Josh Marquez characteristically fed off of the pop from the fans and as soon as he reached his feet sped across the ring. Josh jumps up onto the top cable and flips over himself, going against his own momentum. Then spinning facing all three sides of the fans he jokingly does mock heel poses for the thousands of camera phones lurking in amongst the crowd.
The ring announcer takes a centre position in the ring poising himself for his big moment before the action begins. Lifting the microphone up to his lips he softly blows into causing the crowd and the wrestlers to offer him their attention.
Pierre Perroquet: Mesdames et messieurs… ze following contest is a FIRST FINISHAIRRRR MATCH and ze winner will be determined by ze fairrst competitor to ‘it their opponent with zeir respectif finishairs only! Introducing first to my right…
Ellis Nash responds lifting her hands into the air.
Pierre Perroquet: ‘ailing from Cortland, New York, she weights in at 126 pounds and she brings with ‘er ze devastating DECREE… zis is Ellis Nash!!!!
Pop for Ellis. *Blush*
Pierre Perroquet: And ‘er opposition, ‘ailing from Sin City, he weighs 212 pounds and bringing wizzim as ‘is finishair tonight The Full House this is Josh Marquez!
The Ring Announcer leaves the ring and the ever laid back Richie Travis calls for the bell to be rung to get this shindig under way.
The Bell rings.
Jeff Marx: Do you think Richie Travis is voting democrat this November?
Dave Kern: What does that have to do with this match?
Jeff Marx: (ignoring Dave and ranting on) Or do you think that he is a Regan style republican?
Dave Kern: Huh?
Without notice Josh pounces at Ellis Nash with a traditional tie up. The two warriors combat one another, testing each others strength, Josh Marquez gets he earlier advantage using his superior height and weight. Asserting these qualities well Josh forces Ellis into the corner of the ring, pushing her up against the turnbuckle pads and giving her no room to breath. Ellis puts all her effort in launching a fight back but Josh is too strong and Ellis can’t fend him off. Spotting a big opening Josh jams his knee into Ellis Nash’s stomach intensifying the punishment. Not the best way to begin a contest.
He withdraws his right knee only to give himself more swing, at a thundering speed he drops his knee down allowing it to pierce into the stomach of Ellis Nash. Moving out of the way he watches Ellis Nash fall to the mat and spots an early opportunity to end the match. Up he goes, onto the top rope, the camera zooms in on his cheeky smile. Josh Marquez signals the end and jumps.
Dave Kern: Josh Marquez is going to fly less then two minutes into this match. He really does live by his high risk taking lifestyle when inside the ring.
Jeff Marx: Daddy didn’t love him? Maybe a bit of love would have prevented him from wanting to destroy his body at such an early age.
The cocky, rash and frankly insane move doesn’t pay off for Josh Marquez as Ellis Nash is able to sensibly role to her right and avoid any contact. She makes use of the ropes getting up the camera illustrates her relief while she moves away from Josh Marquez to regain her composure but Josh is not far off her. Josh having dominated the early proceedings was quick to reassert his authority over Ellis Nash, however she, has his number this time. Countering his attack which was based on the strategy of using his bigger body mass to force Ellis Nash down, original? Instead of being pushed down Ellis curls her body up and using all her force drives her elbow into the rib cage of Josh Marquez. Knocking Marquez far enough back to give Ellis enough room to pull off a text book drop kick. Up onto her feet, running like a steam train, Ellis jumps fearlessly up onto the ring cable closest to the fallen Josh Marquez.
Her judgment was off; Marquez smashes his fist down onto the top rope which causes Ellis to loss balance and fall back into the ring. Ellis tumbles backwards into the path of Marquez who efficiently locks her up in a sleeper hold but before he can completely assert his power, Ellis connects with a stunning low elbow which could almost be deemed illegal, if Richie Travis gave a crap.
Jeff Marx: People like Richie Travis are why people don’t take wrestling seriously outside of the business. He does nothing for its credibility.
The normal reaction of the low blow occurs and Ellis Nash has Marquez in a headlock but Marquez is pissed off and without hesitation begins a comeback. Like a lion roars, Marquez goes insane launching Ellis Nash into the ring ropes after his anger alone manages to loosen the grip she had with the headlock. Nash uncontrollable rebounds off of the ring cables walking into a spinning heel kick from Josh Marquez. The connection of the kick doesn’t slow Marquez’s onslaught down but instead he feds off of his success and gets up with ton more momentum. The speed of the move meant Ellis Nash flowed back onto her feet without the ability to stop herself. Walking right into Marquez path as he wholeheartedly charges at Ellis Nash head first but Ellis Nash side steps and Russian leg sweeps Josh Marquez into the ropes. In a moment of pure genius Marquez extends his hands and using his own strength handstands on them into the ropes. Flowing back he nails the unexpectedly Ellis Nash with a crushing elbow but it is not enough to ground Ellis Nash.
Dave Kern: Jeff, can you see how much this means to these two superstars they are really putting their a game on tonight.
Jeff Marx: Isn’t it great, a perfect example of Harberisation.
Dave Kern: What?
Jeff Marx: They are actually wrestling well because Dave will fire their asses if they don’t.
Turning Marquez hits Ellis Nash with his right fist trying to force her into a groggy state. The right fists continue pummeling Ellis Nash. Josh Marquez finally thinks he has Ellis Nash spaced out enough and runs off to the opposite ring cables. Back he flies, his knee high being directed at Ellis Nash’s stomach but Ellis Nash’s hands like the mouth of a venous fly trap seem to consume Josh Marquez’s leg, beautifully Ellis flows around and bring’s Josh Marquez’s advantage to a poetic halt. Marquez hits the mat after Ellis Nash successfully completes a quintessential dragon screw takedown.
On the mat Ellis Nash begins to stamp control over proceedings locking Josh Marquez in a painful ankle lock but Marquez is too close to the ropes and Richie Travis despite bathing in his own coolness sees reason to break it up.
Jeff Marx: pFFFFFt! Does that self obsessed bastard ever do any work?
Dave Kern: Did he get a better pay rise then you?
Jeff Marx: Piss off.
Annoyed Ellis Nash breaks the submission but she can’t help that feel slightly victimized by Richie Travis who normally couldn’t give a fudge, after all can you be disqualified from a Finisher First Match? However Ellis could not mope around for long because Josh Marquez is already back on his feet and rearing to go. Just as they did at the top of the match the two athletes tie up but this time Ellis Nash does not get exploited by Josh Marquez’s power and instead displays her staggering speed which she can use to take advantage of Josh Marquez’s greater height and bigger mass.
Dave Kern: The match is beginning to take have physical effects on Josh Marquez, it looks as if he is struggling.
She makes Josh Marquez’s head spin performing twirls around his body with the specific purpose of making Josh require a good old dose of paracetamol. Then finally when she thinks torture has been substantial enough on Josh Marquez until he loses complete control of his body. She then settles in the classic behind waist lock up and proceeds to struggle, but eventually succeeds in lifting Josh Marquez up into the air and then BANG! She brings Josh Marquez overhead with a slightly lifted German suplex but a German suplex that clearly shows the weight difference between the two warriors of the ring.
Tip up, Ellis Nash runs off to the ropes, up she goes onto the top ring cable, this time Josh Marquez doesn’t spoil her party and she scores, a perfect springboard moonsault. Ellis Nash modestly celebrates her success before picking Josh Marquez off of the ground. She guides his head into the turnbuckle with great pleasure causing Josh Marquez to scream with pain. Taking the hint that it is hurting Ellis continues without mercy, repeatedly drilling Josh’s head into the corner turnbuckle pad. Loving it! Ellis Nash moves away from the corner and then charges at Josh who is facing away from Ellis after her brutal assault.
Jeff Marx: Ellis is really delivering sick punishment to Josh. Josh will not make it out of this one fine.
Jumping up with both knee’s she inserts them into the back of Josh Marquez. Marquez crumbles to the ground and Ellis Nash smiles as she once again retreats across the ring to get a run up. She sprints back, using Josh as a stole she leap frogs up onto the top turnbuckle and then from there jumps back down… the crowd oooow and aaaa as Ellis Nash strongstyles the SHITZ! Out of Josh Marquez who is know a broken man down on the mat. Again using Josh Marquez as a submissive foot stole Ellis Nash climbs back up to the top turnbuckle. AND A FRICKEN GEN!!!! Her feet almost breaking Josh Marquez’s spine in half.
Jeff Marx: Is she actually a woman?
Dave Kern: Pardon?
Jeff Marx: Someone promise me this woman will never have the ability to reproduce, sick bitch. Without the King here she just doesn’t know her place.
Ellis Nash is in complete control as she slowly but deliberately scoops Josh Marquez up off of the mat. However Ellis Nash thinking straight knows Josh Marquez is by know means ready for her finisher yet so she sticks him in a front face lock and using Josh Marquez lack of control over his own body raises him into the air.
Spins him around in the air, but she can’t CAPITALISE!!! Josh Marquez like an oily fish in an anglers hands slips free off Ellis Nash’s suplex and lands behind her. His arms easily wrap around Ellis Nash but his effort is low and as he throws her forward into the ropes all she needs to do is reach out. Grabbing the top rope Ellis reverses all of Josh Marquez’s energy transferring it into her elbow but Marquez ducks the elbow and locks a front waist lock on Ellis Nash. Moving a few steps back Ellis Nash is taken by surprise as Marquez hits her with a dragon suplex…. But Ellis Nash manages to crab it, her feet land first saving her back from any pain.
Dave Kern: HOLY SHIT that was awesome.
Jeff Marx: What are you a commentator or fanboy?
Dave Kern: (sniggering) Both!
UP! UP! UP! SHE GOES Ellis Nash bridges Josh Marquez’s suplex and flips him over shoving Marquez under her legs but Marquez is so much bigger and he convincingly back body drops Ellis Nash up and off of him.
In what resembles a scene from Passion of the Christ Josh Marquez beats down on Ellis Nash. It is a belly churning experience watching the high risk devil beat Ellis like a step child. She can’t find an answer as Josh Marquez displays a rear glimpse of his brawling skills which seem pretty dandy themselves.
Ellis is up but out of touch and stumbling around. Spotting the opportunity Josh gets up onto the top rope and flies… reverse rewind hurricarana.
Why? He could have just hit a normal hurricarana but no!!!! too easy! Eh? The young punk had to showboat.
Josh Marquez picks Ellis Nash up and disposes of Ellis Nash like trash throwing her across the ring but Ellis hurtles back. Hunching Josh lifts Ellis Nash up onto his shoulders, setting her up for the...
Jeff Marx: These two are just revserising one anothers finishers.
NO! She falls off of Josh and Josh is in the shit as Ellis Nash delivers a stiff knee to his stomach. Front face lock!!!! And Ellis Nash is setting Josh Marquez up for the...
Dave Kern: His... His... His...
No! Josh Marquez’s right foot finds the bottom rope and he wiggles and giggles enough to slip out of the front face lock. Ducking Josh wraps his right arm around Nash and up...
He throws Ellis over... he’s won!!! But Ellis Nash lands on her feet, her extreme agility saved her day. Josh spins, Ellis is waiting...
One right!
Two right!
Three right!
Jeff Marx: Watch that man like strengh previling again.
She twirls, gaining massive momentum and... bang roaring punch, sends Josh Marquez out of control but before he can hit the ground Ellis Nash grabs him in an inverted face lock.
Dave Kern: Surely?
Nash is going to do it, the match is only seconds away. Josh Marquez is still to close to the ropes. Marquez running on his last drops of energy climbs the ring ropes and flips over onto his feet... Marquez has Ellis Nash in an inverted face lock but he can only win if he hits his own finisher, he drags Ellis Nash into the middle of the ring avoiding the same mistakes as her.
Jeff Marx: It’s over.
Dave Kern: No, it has to be their own finisher.
Grabbing Ellis Nash’s leg Josh Marquez hoists her up onto his shoulder blades as for the third time he is so close to finishing Ellis Nash. He flips her over... and down comes the knee... Bet On... ELLIS NASH ROLLS OUT OF THE WAY AND Josh Marquez knee crashes into the ring mat.
Dave Kern: Oh my god! These two have cemented themselves as wrestling legends as they continue to reverse one another’s finishers.
Ellis Nash is up first, she is behind Josh Marquez as she locks his head under her arm in another inverted DDT surely this time it is over. Sweating, dripping and feeling the pressure she finally lifts Josh Marquez up but before she can get any further with her finisher Marquez uses her pull to lift his whole body weight up and wrap his legs around Ellis Nash’s head.
He realses his leg hold, freely roles forward, turns and charges at Ellis Nash like a rhino hoicking Ellis Nash up onto his shoulders. But before he even nails the firemans carry portion of his Bet on Red, Ellis Nash places her arm around Josh Marquez’s neck and after a little struggle throws her body around Marquez... TORNADO DDT!!!
Ellis Nash keeps Josh Marquez under her lovly arm and lifting him up, she twists him around...
Dave Kern: DECREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
DING !
DING !
DING!!!
It’s over!
Pierre Perroquet: Zee winnair, ELLIS NASH!
Jeff Marx: Marquez went so close!
Dave Kern: But Ellis Nash picks up yet another victory, and surely another Transatlantic title opportunity is not too far off for this remarkable young lady!
Money Talks
FEATURING: TERESA TOMAS, THE EMPIRE
AUTHORS: SONYA AND PIERRE HYDE
Teresa Tomas stands before a closed door. This same door opens to the sky-box Harber and his Empire have adopted as their headquarters. The only things that are preventing Teresa from opening this door are a set of plastic suited buffed-up men carrying guns. A minor obstacle.
Drakewerx Guard: No entrance without a card.
Teresa gives the guard a once-over wondering which galaxy he got his suit from, as she reaches into the back pocket of her faded jeans for her wallet. The guard examines Teresa’s AWC photo ID closely, then gives the nod to the other guard to allow her entrance.
No sooner the door shuts; she feels a hot breath tickle the hairs on her neck. Teresa slowly turns her head and immediately jumps back. Hovering over her like an annoying gnat is Juggernaut Kintu, except he’s the size of a large grizzly bear. Gabriel Afeaki is absent, as is Dr. Drake. Across the room David Harber sits behind a wooden desk fumbling through some papers. He raises an eyebrow to Teresa. He looks a bit annoyed.
David Harber: Can I help you Teresa?
Teresa gives Kintu a hard glare and approaches her boss’s desk; Kintu isn’t far behind.
Teresa Tomas: Well yeah, that’s why I’m here isn’t it? Listen, Sasha garnished my check after I ran over her limo.
David Harber grins and nods.
David Harber: Yes, I remember that. One of her more lucid moments. Let me guess, you want the garnishment removed? You want to start actually receiving your wages again? Must I remind you Miss Tomas, when I regained complete control over this roster, I erased everything that bitch did?
Teresa takes a sigh of relief already thinking of a new paint job for her pick up truck.
Teresa Tomas: Yeah, I remember. Thanks Pearl… ermm Mr. Harber.
When Teresa turns to leave, she walks right into the barrel chest of Kintu. He simply glares down on her as if ready to attack.
David Harber: (grimly) Not so fast Teresa. We’re not finished.
Teresa turns around to find her boss scribbling on a piece of paper. He hands her the paper and leans back in his leather chair.
David Harber: Yes, your garnishment is lifted. However, it so happened that your contract expired last month – did you even realise that? No? Well luckily for you I’ve taken the liberty of drawing up a new contract for you – of course, with some necessary adjustments made to your wages. What I have given you is your new rate in pay. I feel it’s suitable for you concerning all you’ve done for AWC.
Teresa reads the dollar amount then wads the paper in her hand. She tosses it at Harber and with fire in her eyes takes a leap over his desk at him. Just before Teresa’s hand can reach Harber’s throat, Kintu grabs Teresa by the waist with one arm and wraps his other arm around her throat. The Redneck Princess wriggles in his tight grasp; her face turning red.
Teresa Tomas: You – son of a – bitch! That’s no more than Sasha gave me even when I was paying for her limo… Hell, it’s less! How can a person live off that?
Harber sits up straightening his tie and shakes his head.
David Harber: I’d choose my words carefully if I were you Teresa. All I have to do is give LeVar the word and he’ll put your white-trash-ass to sleep just like that. (snaps fingers) If you ever come to me again uninvited, I won’t be so nice. Kintu, let her go.
Just as Harber orders, Kintu releases Teresa but keep his ever watchful eye on her.
David Harber: Now have a think about that contract, and get back to me. You can either re-sign with AWC, or try your luck elsewhere in PTC – I’m sure they’ll be clamouring to have you, given your track record. Oh, and did I mention Sasha had you added to the PTC blacklist after you crushed her limo? Yes, yes. I didn’t bother removing you… do you think I should?
Harber looks expectantly at the Top Rope Temptress. Teresa glares at her boss for a moment contemplating on her next move. Instead of attempting another leap across his desk, she storms out of the sky-box mumbling curses that would put a sailor to shame. She’ll ‘thank’ the man later.
What's New, Pussycat?
FEATURING: GABRIEL AFEAKI, JOHNNY LEXICON
AUTHORS: KRIS (KLONE) AND JOE (MAGA)
As quiet as a jungle cat the indomitable Gabriel Afeaki appears on screen. Marching down the hall his expression holds that same cold malice, in his right arm he carries his newly won Relentless title. Never was there more an apt title for such a character: relentless in his pursuit of the truth, and relentless in the vicious onslaught he threw at each and every opponent, this belt brought GA closer to those cages... A figure appears behind Afeaki, blonde hair, denim jacket, and boots. Johnny Lexicon looks ready to go home, but when he calls out to The Enforcer of The Empire, Gabriel's expression switches, that sickening grin creeping slowly across his lips like thieves in the night.
Lexicon stood taller that Afeaki, but he was nowhere near as wide as the Fijian. He’d have to be daring to catch his attention, in turn, Lexicon strides mere feet away from GA.
Johnny Lexicon: Ah, “The Fijian Lion”, Mr. Afeaki, we meet finally, face to face. In the savannah a female lion chases her prey down, taking their legs from behind…
Gabriel’s face is pervaded as usual by his black hoodie; his red pupils stare out emotionless toward Lexicon, his shoulders recoil and his left fist tightens. He was of course, ever the ready cat. Afeaki turns slowly to see Johnny Lexicon, ah… another bitch, but a crazy one at least.
Johnny Lexicon: You're always busy being the corporate pussy cat I haven't had a chance to catch you. I wanted to talk to you about something.
Johnny moves closer, almost threateningly so.
Gabriel Afeaki:… and you are…
Johnny Lexicon: Johnny Lexicon.
Lexicon interrupts Afeaki finally ceasing the smile.
Gabriel Afeaki: What may I do for you Mr. Lexicon, I’m a busy man.
Johnny Lexicon:: I have a debt.
Afeaki raises an eyebrow…
Johnny Lexicon: That belt looks good on you, you did real good at Coast To Coast. You earned every moment. And I got a glimpse of what you are.
Afeaki slowly lowers the hood from over his face, allowing his eyes to mindfuck Lexicon’s.
Johnny Lexicon: You're an animal. Where I come from when an animal gets out of control, it has to be put down.
Johnny’s smile disappears.
Gabriel Afeaki: Just turn around before I hurt you.
Afeaki turns to go away but Lexicon’s hand stops him… bad move?
Johnny Lexicon: I'll do what it takes…
GA stops in his tracks… he’s itching to throw him into a wall but it soon subsides.
This kid had guts at least, he could respect that.
Johnny Lexicon: You play Batman, I'll play wrestler. I come to you alone because my own honour dictates that I tell you: I will come for you. If I have to go through every opening act curtain jerker, win or lose, I will come for you.
Gabriel Afeaki: Done?
Johnny Lexicon: Yup.
Gabriel Afeaki: Good.
With that said he was gone. No Batman. No nothing. Just walked away. His heart wasn’t in it tonight… the words of Lexicon ran through his mind… corporate pussycat… he wouldn’t admit it, but he was right.
And that made him angry.
For Tariq Suleimon... this did not bode well.
The Shape Of Things To Come
FEATURING: RED ROCK, MIKE WADE, D'AVID, MICKEY MOORE
AUTHORS: JOSH YOUNG AND TONY
We now cut to some unimportant area backstage where we see a close up shot of Red Rock showing his head and shoulders. He sports a saddened and desperate expression and appears to be looking at somebody else. The camera, at this point swiftly tracks back to reveal Mike Wade no less!
Red Rock: Wade... I've hit bad times... I lack direction and I need guidance...
Mike Wade: Guidance? Red, Red, Red it pains me that you've come to me so late.
Red Rock: Come to you?! I was going to ask if you knew anyone who could help...
Red Rock shrugs.
Red Rock: I guess you make a point though!
Mike Wade: Red, Red, Red Rock. No. You held the Relentless title for months. But you went around like a headless chicken. You lack direction. You just lost the belt that I made famous and what the feck are you planning to do to get it back? Wander around with your little friend D'avid and pull him?
Red Rock: I think you'll find D'avid is trying to pull me... and Teresa Tomas and... err, anyway! I kind of feel like I’m in this situation where I have the biggest penis in the world but don't have a clue how to use it! I know I could be really good but... how?
Mike Wade: Well the thing with peni'- I believe that’s the plural- is you need to get an erection first. You talent is like an un-erect penis. You need someone to turn you on, someone to masturbate you into greatness. I am that men Red.
D'avid pops out of nowhere wearing nothing but his underwear.
D’avid: Heh... Ooooh! Is this a private party?
Mike Wade: You see. Red this is your problem.
Red Rock: Yeah D'avid fuck off you bumbaclart!
Mike Wade: Your entourage consists of a gay guy in his underpants. Who's gonna take you as a threat?
Out of nowhere, dressed in full leprechaun garb pops Mikes manager, the 2 foot 5 inch Mickey Moore.
Red Rock nods, greeting Mickey Moore.
Red Rock: Mickey.
Mickey returns the gesture.
Mickey Moore: Howya.
Red Rock: Basically what I need is for you to show me how to use my penis the way you did which launched you to success!
Mike Wade: If there's one thing I can do Red, it’s show a man how to use his cock. They don't call him Adam DICK for nothing you know.
Mike throws his arm around Red Rock as they walk into the sunset.
Mike Wade: Let me tell you the time about when I rode The Educator’s mother...
Gabriel Afeaki (c) vs Captain Suleimon
STIPULATION: WEAPONS
REFEREE: MICHAEL RYAN
AUTHOR: JEREMY J.
Dave Kern: Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached the Main Event of the evening! The Empire representative, Gabriel Afeaki, defends his Relentless title for the first time against Captain Suleimon. Mike Wade, who is our new Commissioner since Coast To Coast, booked tonight’s Main Event much to the chagrin of AWC Entertainment Manager, David Harber.
Jeff Marx: Indeed he did! His Swerviness shocked everyone by joining - and then turning his back - on The Empire and now he’s doing whatever he wants! I think I’ll like to have the former Frontier, Relentless and Alliance champion as our Commish. Not to mention he booked a blockbuster of a Main Event!
Dave Kern: Yes he did! Can Captain Suleimon dethrone the “Fijian Animal” or will Gabriel Afeaki remain the Relentless champion? Let’s go down to the ring!
James Brunt: The following Main Event is for the AWC Relentless championship!
“The Turkish March” by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart begins to play on the PA system as Captain Suleimon walks down to the ring with a steel chair in his right hand. The fans are buzzing; the majority of them are jeering the AWC superstar while the rest give him a mixed reaction.
James Brunt: Making his way to the ring, from Istanbul, Turkey. Weighing 198 pounds, he is the challenger... CAPTAIN SULEIMON!
Dave Kern: Captain Suleimon has been on a high ever since he defeated former Livewire and Transatlantic champion, Jack Murphy, and he’s looking to continue his high by capturing the Relentless title.
Jeff Marx: The Captain is a tough bastard, but I don’t think he can beat that monster known as Gabriel Afeaki. He’s the cornerstone of The Empire and David Harber’s deadly assassin.
James Brunt: His opponent...
The arena plummets into darkness, leaving the unsuspecting crowd wondering what is going to happen next as multiple flashbulbs partially illuminate ringside. A few moments later, the Atlantic Tron flickers to life, showing only a black, empty screen. Immediately, there are two sets of silver points a few inches away from each other drawing outlines of the human eye. When the drawing is complete, the outlines open, revealing a pair of orange eyes with white irises and no pupils. Evil laughter fills the arena as the orange eyes slowly transform into lion eyes: a pale yellow-green base with feline irises. Underneath the eyes, these words in a blood red color appear...
The lights flicker back on as the evil, demonic introduction of Thorr’s Hammer Troll begins to play. From the curtain emerges a large chiseled Fijian man, dressed in black hoodie, and has the Relentless title secured around his waist, slowly walks down to the ring as the fans watch in awe, as the lyrics of the Haka play over the harrowing sound of Troll fill the arena.
The Fijian steps off the ramp way and looks out into the fans, relishing the fear he’s bringing to each and everyone one of them. He slowly makes his ascent up the ring steps.
James Brunt: Making his way to the ring, from Fiji, weighing 285 pounds... he is G to the A, and now the new Relentless champion... GABRIEL AFEAKI!
Gabriel Afeaki enters the ring, looks over at ring announcer James Brunt, the assigned referee of the match, and walks over to his corner, jumps onto the top turnbuckle and sits there patiently, waiting for his victim as the song slowly dies down and the lyrics finish... The music dies down as an acappela Haka war chant slowly finishes...
The Maori voice peters out as Afeaki sits on the turnbuckle waiting for the match to commence. He removes the Relentless title and places it on his lap.
Dave Kern: Gabriel Afeaki looks focused and ready to take on Captain Suleimon. Wait a minute! Suleimon is going for the attack!
Jeff Marx: And Suleimon’s attack has been thwarted by GA.
Indeed he does, Jeff Marx. Before ring announcer James Brunt can get out of the ring, Captain Suleimon charges at Gabriel Afeaki, who is still sitting on the top turnbuckle, dressed in his hoodie and has his Relentless title across his lamp, and throws the chair right into Afeaki’s face. Unfortunately for the Captain, GA swats the chair away like a vexing gnat, but Suleimon is still charging at him. He hurls himself at the Relentless title holder. Afeaki catches the man in midair - and still seated on the top turnbuckle, mind you - tosses the 198-pound Turkish superstar across his shoulders and tosses him out of the ring. The fans gasp as Suleimon lands on the concrete floor hard back first. He bellows in pain, arching his back, as the Relentless champion hands over the title belt to referee Michael Ryan, removes his hoodie and the referee calls for the bell.
Dave Kern: My god! A Fireman’s Carry from the top turnbuckle! Captain Suleimon’s back has got to be broken!
Jeff Marx: And Captain Suleimon’s pain isn’t over just yet. Gabriel Afeaki is exiting the ring to stalk his prey.
Gabriel Afeaki leaves the ring, looks down at Captain Suleimon and lifts him to his feet. He picks him up in a Bearhug fashion, charges towards the steel ring post and slams Suleimon’s back into the cold, unforgiving steel. “The Sultan of Smackdown” wails in pain as Afeaki slams his back repeatedly into the steel ring post. After the fifth steel post slam, the Relentless champion pops his hips and throws the Turkey native over his head with a Overhead Belly-to-Belly Suplex. Suleimon bellows out in anguish, clutching at his lower back.
Gabriel Afeaki, Empire representative and Relentless champion, goes into a low crouch, waiting for his opponent to get to his feet. Captain Suleimon gingerly gets to his feet, a hand on his lower back. He makes the mistake by turning to face GA. A split second after Suleimon turns to face the Relentless champion, the “Fijian Animal” explodes from his crouching position and runs Suleimon over with a powerful Lariat! Suleimon literally does a backflip and lands on his chest. The fans are booing Gabi as he grabs Suleimon by the nape of his neck and tosses his limp 200-pound body one-handed into the ring.
Dave Kern: Oh my god! I think Gabriel Afeaki killed Tariq Abdul Wahad Suleimon with that Lariat, and nonchalantly tosses the Captain into the ring with one hand! I sometimes wonder if he actually did commit murder when he was in Fiji. With that savagery, I’d find him guilty!
Jeff Marx: I’ll have to give David Harber props for signing this Fijian monster. If I didn’t, he’d probably fire me.
Gabriel Afeaki rolls back into the ring, gets to a vertical base and tilts his head down to look at his downed opponent. At six feet, three inches tall, his ramrod posture makes this hulking Fijian look like he is standing seven feet tall. GA studies Captain Suleimon with slight amusement as he tries to get to his feet. When the Captain sits up, Afeaki steps forward, and throws one hell of a cutting kick right into Suleimon’s face! The shin connects with Suleimon’s nose, shattering it instantly. He falls backward, holding his face and screaming in pain. To make matters worse, the Relentless champion leaps into the air and drops a knee onto Suleimon’s covered face. This might result in a couple of broken hands.
Dave Kern: Good god! Gabriel Afeaki is decimating Captain Suleimon! Pin the man already, Afeaki! He’s defenseless!
Jeff Marx: Looks like he heard you, Kern! He’s going for the cover...
ONE!
TWO!
NO! Captain Suleimon kicks out! This amuses Gabriel Afeaki as a smile curls his lips. He can play with his victim some more. The Relentless champion palms - yes, I said palms - the top of the Captain’s head and sits him up. Before he can make another offensive strike, he doesn’t see - or has time to defend - a thrust chop to the throat. GA relinquishes Suleimon’s head, places his hands around his own throat. This allows his challenger to recuperate, get to his feet and throw a boot right into Afeaki’s face. Suleimon, eyes blurry with tears and starting to swell as the result of his broken nose, runs over to pick up his chair, runs back over to his opponent and does a Somersault Arabian Buster with the chair! The fans are on their feet cheering as Suleimon goes for the cover, hooking the leg...
ONE
Gabriel Afeaki immediately kicks out with authority, pressing Captain Suleimon off. The Scottish fans are silenced after what they’ve just witnessed.
Jeff Marx: Well, Gabriel Afeaki knows how to silence a crowd.
Dave Kern: No kidding! Gabriel Afeaki’s strength is damn scary!
Captain Suleimon is on his feet with his chair in his possession. Gabriel Afeaki sits up, ready to get to his feet, but Captain cancels his plans by throwing a Dropkick to the side of GA’s head...using the chair as an exclamation point! Afeaki sways to the side, but isn’t completely grounded yet. Suleimon picks up his chair, raises it over his head and throws it down across Afeaki’s face! The fans explode with cheers as Suleimon exits the ring to find some goodies underneath the ring. He flips the apron over, rummaging around and finds a trashcan full of mayhem goodies, tosses it in the ring, a ladder - that goes into the ring too - and sets up a couple of table on the outside and slides a couple into the ring.
Jeff Marx: Oh, here we go! Let the carnage commence!
Dave Kern: Captain Suleimon always feels at home when he brings in weapons to use in Relentless Matches!
Captain Suleimon gets into the ring, picks up the ladder and sets it over his right shoulder. Gabriel Afeaki - who is now bleeding from the side of the head; the same laceration he sustained last week - gets to his feet and looks like a beast with his eyes blazing at his opponent. Suleimon charges at Afeaki, ladder in possession, but Afeaki kicks the ladder away - yes, KICKS the ladder away. When Afeaki kicked the ladder away, the back of it smacked the back of the Captain’s head, sending him onto one knee. Using his Savate skills, GA clocks Suleimon in the face with a Revers thrust kick right in the face. He grabs Suleimon’s arm, yanks him to his feet and executes a Ura Nage using a side collarbone clutch and throws “The Pride of the Ottoman Empire” over his head.
The “Fijian Animal” kips up to his feet, looking over at his opponent. He picks him up, goes for the Tomoe Nage (Circle Throw - think of it as a Monkey Flip), rolls on top of Suleimon, crosses both forearms together to make an “X” and applies a Blood Choke!
Dave Kern: Blood Choke applied by Gabriel Afeaki! You see that kind of choke used in the military! Michael Ryan needs to break up that maneuver!
Jeff Marx: He can’t! This is a Relentless Match for the title! There’s no disqualifications!
Captain Suleimon is turning a bright red as Gabriel Afeaki is cutting the air supply with his massive forearms. In desperation, the Captain’s knee finds Afeaki’s uprights and slams it home! Afeaki rolls off his opponent and clutches at his family jewels. The challenger is coughing and sputtering, trying to get air into his lungs. Every time he takes a breath, it stings his lungs and trachea. He slowly gets to his feet, pours out the trashcan full of hardcore goodies and picks out the deadliest of them all: a barbwire 2x4! The fans are on their feet when he raises the barbaric weapon into the air. But he doesn’t stop there, oh no! He reaches into his cargo pants, pulls out a small bottle of gasoline and squirts the barbwire. He then takes out a lighter, setting the weapon ablaze, getting a raise out of the fans!
“WE WANT BLOOD! WE WANT BLOOD! WE WANT BLOOD! WE WANT BLOOD!”
Dave Kern: The fans are getting into his match now, and...OH MY GOD! CAPTAIN SULEIMON JUST STRUCK GABRIEL AFEAKI IN THE HEAD WITH THAT WEAPON! THE FLAMING BARBWIRE WEAPON IS STUCK IN HIS FOREHEAD!
Jeff Marx: SULEIMON RIPPED THE WEAPON OUT AND HIT AFEAKI IN THE HEAD AGAIN!
The fans are on their feet at the brutality they are witnessing! Captain Suleimon raises the flaming weapon, about to strike Gabriel Afeaki again, but Afeaki counters with a spinning back kick, disarming his opponent and doubling him over. He picks up the flaming barbwire 2x4, raises it over his head and hits Suleimon across the back with it! The flaming razor wire slicing deep into his back and almost cauterizing the wounds! He drops the flaming weapon, goes for a side collarbone clutch and slams “The Sultan of Smackdown’s” back onto the flaming weapon with a Uranage Suplex!
Gabriel Afeaki sees the table laying on the canvas. He goes over to it, picks it up and goes over to a corner of the ring. He sets up the table, props it up against the corner and goes over to his opponent, who has rolled off the flaming barbwire 2x4. He picks him up, goes for a close range double leg takedown and scoops him up into his arms. The Relentless champion then does a 180-degree turn, runs over to the table and slams the Captain through it! The table literally explodes into pieces!
Dave Kern: OH MY GOD! Gabriel Afeaki has broken Captain Suleimon in half!
Jeff Marx: I think we know what the outcome of this match up is now.
Gabriel Afeaki nonchalantly drags Captain Suleimon by the into the center of the ring and goes for the cover, not bothering to hook the leg...
ONE!
TWO!
THR---
NO! Captain Suleimon shoots the shoulder up!
Dave Kern: CAPTAIN SULEIMON IS STILL IN THIS MATCH!
Jeff Marx: BUT HOW?! THERE’S NO WAY!
Gabriel Afeaki is starting to get annoyed with his opponent now. He grabs his leg as if going for a Figure-Four Leg Lock, but Captain Suleimon kicks him away. Suddenly, a masked man clad in a grey jumpsuit bursts out through the curtain.
Jeff Marx: Er… hello?!
Dave Kern: Who the hell is this?!
Jeff Marx: Looks like a Power Rangers baddie!
Dave Kern: … Jeff is there something you’d like to tell us?
The man sprints to the ring and Afeaki, distracted, faces the man, ignoring Suleimon and adopting a fighting stance. At the last moment, there is a blur of motion in the crowd and a huge dark man barrels his way out to knock the intruder out of the way.
Juggernaut Kintu.
“Hey!” yells Afeaki in his stable-mate’s direction. “I had that!”
Kintu doesn’t hear the Relentless champion, or perhaps he just ignores him. The Serumed-up competitor grabs the man by the front of his jumpsuit and hurls him bodily across the ringside area; he smashes so hard against the side of the steel steps that they are knocked out of their bracket and clatter aside!
Jeff Marx: JUGGERNAUT KINTU HAS BROKEN THE INTRUDER IN HALF!
Dave Kern: Take his mask off! He’s got to – no, he’s leaving! LeVar Kintu is leaving without unmasking the man in grey, who lies, broken, at the side of the ring! And Gabriel Afeaki’s mind must be boggling, because it was clear to me that he had eyes only for the Fijian Animal!
Jeff Marx: You’re right; Gabs was about to put the cap on this match and the aim of the intruder was clearly to stop him. But now he’s motionless just yards from us – Dave, I want to go see who it is!
Dave Kern: No, watch!
Suleimon rolls backward, gets to his feet, and sees Afeaki exploding towards him with a charge. Suleimon quickly gets out of the way, forcing the Relentless champion to go shoulder first into the steel ring post! Bone meets steel with a sickening THUD and GA rolls out of the ring and lands onto the tables. Seeing what the Captain can do, he sets up his chair close to the ring ropes, bounces off the opposite ropes, jumps off the chair, jumps off the top rope, springboard into a Somersault Plancha...
“HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!”
Dave Kern: Triple Jump Somersault Plancha through the tables! OH MY GOD! BOTH MEN HAVE BEEN WIPED OUT!
Jeff Marx: This is insane! Captain Suleimon just risked his body to take out Gabriel Afeaki, and I think he was--- Oh hell, no! There’s no way!
Dave Kern: Gabriel Afeaki is getting to his feet! How is Captain Suleimon going to stop the Relentless champion?!
Gabriel Afeaki gingerly gets to his feet, winces as he bends over to pick up Captain Suleimon, and throws the Captain’s limp carcass into the ring. Afeaki now looks round, heading over to where the man in grey is lying…
Jeff Marx: He’s not there! Where’s he gone?
Dave Kern: He rolled under the ring! But Afeaki hasn’t a clue!
GA rolls into the ring, gets to his feet and folds the steel chair Suleimon used for his Triple Jump Somersault Plancha. He raises it up in the air, brings it down and strikes “The Pride of the Ottoman Empire” in the ankle! Suleimon screams in pain as Afeaki strikes his opponent three more times in the ankle with the chair. Suleimon is writhing on the canvas, clutching at his ankle now. Gabriel drops the chair, grabs the injured ankle, drops backward, wraps his legs around Suleimon’s leg and traps Suleimon’s foot in GA’s armpit. Afterward, he applies pressure on the foot by twisting it medially.
Dave Kern: He’s got the Heel Hook! The Fijian Leg Lock! Tap out, Tariq! You can’t win now!
Jeff Marx: Captain Suleimon has tapped out! Gabriel Afeaki has retained the Relentless title.
“Troll” by Thorr’s Hammer plays on the PA system as James Brunt announces the winner...
James Brunt: The winner and still the AWC Relentless champion... GABRIEL AFEAKI!
Gabriel Afeaki has won the match, but he doesn’t let the Fijian Leg Lock go. He’s inflicting more pain on Captain’s Suleimon’s ankle, as if he’s going to break the man’s ankle! Referee Michael Ryan gets in to break up the hold, but Afeaki’s thick, chiseled body doesn’t budge an inch. Referee Ryan motions to the back for help, and officials are pouring out from the back, along with security to break up the hold.
Dave Kern: This is ridiculous! Gabriel Afeaki has won the match and doesn’t break the hold! The referee should reverse the damn decision!
Jeff Marx: Gabriel Afeaki has broken the hold finally and, perhaps, broke Captain Suleimon’s ankle in the process. And the masked man… he’s STILL underneath the ring!
It takes 10 people to pull Gabriel Afeaki off of Captain Suleimon and to break the Fijian Leg Lock. With both men separated, EMTs are on the scene, checking on Captain Suleimon. Suleimon is wailing in pain, saying that Afeaki broke his ankle over and over again. Things aren’t looking good for “The Sultan of Smackdown.”
Dave Kern: My God, what a brutal match! Gabriel Afeaki retains the title by making Captain Suleimon submit, but it looks like he might have broken the man’s ankle. Hopefully, that isn’t the case.
Jeff Marx: Captain Suleimon put up a good fight but Afeaki dominated the Captain and won in the end. The Empire has become a scary force with Gabriel Afeaki as a member and the Relentless champion. AWC isn’t going to be the same ever again with The Empire at the helm.
Dave Kern: You’re right there Jeff, but someone had something to say about that; someone wanting to help out Captain Suleimon! And that someone is still waiting under the ring, hiding, and no one’s realised it, and – and now we’re not going to find out; not before we go off air, anyway, because it’s time!
Celebration...?
FEATURING: GABRIEL AFEAKI
AUTHOR: JOE (MAGA)
Bursting through the backstage area he was already adorning his trademark hoodie as he slung the Relentless title across his left shoulder. He was angry, but he didn’t know quite what at.
He stopped.
Why?
Letting out a roar of fury, Afeaki sends his fist slamming straight into the wall leaving an imprinted Fijian paw… heads turned…
Gabriel Afeaki: What the fuck are YOU looking AT?!
He sunk to his haunches… what the fuck had he become?
What would Mei say? His mother… his father… Atapa…
Gabriel Afeaki: WHO AM I?!
He roared once more…
Gabriel Afeaki: What the fuck am I doing here… this isn’t me…
It was the first sign of emotion. He was a fucking human being… barely…
The cackles of the Penguin and his merry gang reverberated around his skull like an incessant orchestra.
Hurtling the Relentless title across the floor… tears crept down the side of Afeaki’s face… as if they were scared of touching his skin… acid to the touch.
Here lies your fucking Lion…
Freedom was a bitch.