Fresh!burst Results25th September 2005
Introduction
FEATURING: TRUTH WATERS, GEORGE CASSIDY
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
Pierce Lavelle is shown delivering his Whiplash finisher on Paddy O’Shea and then holding aloft the Transatlantic title, which he now possesses for the second time. A pulsating white light continually lights up the screen, with shots of many AWC superstars in action being shown: Mike Wade, Patrick Mapleleaf, Titan.
And even though I know
That everything might go
Go downhill from here
I'm not afraid
A quick collection of highlights from recent events flash across the screen as the song moves into its chorus. John Edwards delivering the Moral Judgment on Juri Hyobanshi; Paddy O’Shea clotheslining both members of T.T.S.; The Illustrious Face-Eater scoring his Eaterplex ’05 on Andy Murray to take his Frontier title.
Way away, away from here I'll be
Away, away, away, so you can see
How it feels to be alone and not believe
Feels to be alone and not believe
Anything
Truth Waters: IT’S TIME FOR THE BUBBLE TO BURST!
George Cassidy: You make me squirm, Truth, you really do.
Truth Waters: Welcome to Fresh!burst, the final AWC event before Testimony, and a packed house –
Truth Waters surveys the two-thirds full Dodge Theater.
Truth Waters: OK, perhaps we couldn’t quite sell out tonight…
George Cassidy: Not surprising; a half-length show with Jonny Sake main eventing, and other thrilling matches on offer including Titan against the almighty… John. Really, who WOULD come?
Truth Waters: That’s not the point though Cassidy, the point is that we are DAYS away from Testimony with the hype machine in full swing! Tim Shipley will have his LAST match in AWC this Friday when he takes on The Illustrious Face-Eater in a 10-Count match, after which Face-Eater will take off his mask and finally reveal his identity!
George Cassidy: It’ll be a huuuuge letdown.
Truth Waters: Oh, I don’t think so, Cassidy… have you seen the internet this week? All sorts of rumours floating about… one of my favourite being that Face-Eater is Flaymin Aymin of PCW fame!
George Cassidy: That makes no sense. What could he have against Shipley?
Pause.
Truth Waters: Ah, I suppose you’re right.
George Cassidy: More importantly at Testimony Pierce Lavelle will defend his title against Hate, in a monstrous No Escape match! He’ll be shut up in an enclosed steel cage with The Fifth Horseman, and the question is not can he escape with his title… it’s can he escape alive?
Truth Waters: Er… no. He can’t escape at all. That’s why it’s called a No Escape match.
George Cassidy: …Alright let’s stop undermining each other and get to the action.
Truth Waters: Not before I make a quick announcement regarding the status of Andy Murray, our former Frontier champion. Murray went for scans on his shoulder after taking the Eaterplex ’05 in losing his title on Fresh!, and right now the results are inconclusive, so the Scotsman will be out of action until we have further news. Regrettably, he won’t be at Testimony.
George Cassidy: Nor, of course, will those who parted with AWC by mutual consent this week. If you aren’t an internet whore, I’ll now reveal that those people are Adalia Delorian, Katerina Zagarovsky, Deliverance, Team Super Evil and our favourite Educator.
The... Duct Tape’s Out Of The Bag
FEATURING: RED ROCK
AUTHOR: JOSH YOUNG
Red Rock comes walking on the scene by himself slowly all alone with his head hung down. He looks rather upset as his friend Boolie had been kidnapped by an unknown kidnapper. He has his Livewire title draped over his right shoulder and in his left hand he is holding The British Bomber's bag, which he has still yet to return to him. Red Rock stops and sits down on a bench and ties up his boot laces.
Red Rock: Hanging out backstage sure is crap without Boolie.
Red Rock sighs to himself and fastens his boot lace whilst looking at The British Bomber's bag.
Red Rock: I suppose I better find Bomber, he'll probably be looking for this.
Red Rock gets up and picks up the bag but notices a strange smell from the bag. The smell makes Red Rock feel a little bit light headed so he covers his mouth with his shirt.
Red Rock: What has he got in here?
Red Rock looks at the bag and notices a big wet patch growing on the side of the bag.
Red Rock: Bollocks! I've broken something!
Red Rock unzips the bag to remove the leaking object as he unzips the bag he is met by a huge shock.
Red Rock: WHAT THE FUCK?!
Red Rock reaches in and picks up a bottle with some kind of sedative used to knock people out. Red Rock continues to search through the bag only to find various other items like: rope, duct tape and an old smell rag. Red Rock begins to seethe as he realizes who has been tormenting him the whole time, the one who sent the letters trying to drive him of AWC and the one who kidnapped Boolie.
Red Rock: Motherfucker!
Red Rock grabs the back and marches off in search of The British Bomber.
The Confrontation (A)
FEATURING: HATE, AZAGTOTH, PADDY O'SHEA, IRISHMEN
AUTHOR: JAAKKO OKSA
Truth Waters: Well, I think it’s about time to get on with our program…
Waters is cut off by Agoraphobic Nosebleed’s ”North American Corpse Desecration”, which sends the crowd into a booing fit. The masked Hate, with the black-clad Azagtoth by his side, appears in the entranceway, raising his arm in the air in a wicked claw as a way to greet the booing fans.
George Cassidy: What the hell is this now? Hate isn’t scheduled to be here tonight!
Truth Waters: Well, he heard last week that he is going to have a match at the pay-per-view, and for the Transatlantic title no less!
George Cassidy: Well, shouldn’t he be preparing for it then?
As Hate makes his way to the ringside, some of the fans pick up on a ”We want Sake!” chant, in an effort to piss him off. Hate answers by pulling off his gas mask, revealing a series of stitches running from the corner of his right eye to behind his right ear. Azagtoth walks a few steps besides his leader, snarling at the front-row fans as he passes by. Hate slides into the ring while Azagtoth fetches him a mic, both ignoring the booing and laughing crowd.
George Cassidy: Last Fresh!, Jonny Sake shocked the AWC crowd by pinning Hate in the middle of the ring for the one, two, three… Although it wasn’t the cleanest pinfall of all time.
Truth Waters: You can see just how clean it was by looking at Hate’s head. That’s the way a human head looks like after being hit three times with a baseball bat.
Hate grabs the microphone presented to him and calls for silence with a motion of his hand, but fails to subdue the unruly crowd. Waiting patiently, Hate outlasts most members of the jeering mass and then begins speaking with a cold, angry voice, not raising the volume but merely pumping his words as full of malice as he can.
Hate: I know none of you cretins were expecting me to be here. And quite frankly, I did not expect myself to be here either. I was expecting to be far away from the spotlight, forgotten and ignored by our great entertainment master David Harber. But Fate has wonderful ways of working in the favor of those who wait, no? For not soon after I have been assaulted and ripped away from my pride that our BELOVED Transatlantic champion Pierce Lavelle walks into Harber’s office and demands for me to be put against him. Demands it? I was shocked, yet honored. That such a willing victim would walk in for a slaughter is a rare day indeed, like the proverbial lamb in front of a pack of wolves.
The fans start booing Hate again, who cuts his monologue for a second to let the crowd calm down, while Azagtoth sits in the corner and nods at every word Hate utters.
Truth Waters: Pierce Lavelle wants revenge on Hate for costing him the championship at The Battle Of Britain… And who can blame him? Hate tossed him off the back of a bus for crying out loud and nearly ended his career!
George Cassidy: Still, allowing himself to be locked inside a cage with Hate isn’t really the wisest choice for Lavelle at this point.
Hate: Now, Pierce… You must remember what happened at The Battle Of Britain. I beat you, Pierce. Simple as that. I took your useless carcass in my hands and broke you until you could not hang on. It took a lot, Pierce, but I did it. I desecrated you, smashed your legacy in a single night by showing the world just what kind of a man you are, by showing them how spineless you become under REAL pressure. This is nothing to be ashamed of, Pierce: there are plenty others who have felt the same. Namely… Paddy O’Shea.
The fans begin to cheer at the mentioning of Paddy’s name, and for the first time of the night Hate seems to be a bit taken aback, snarling at the cheering fans.
Hate: SILENCE! Silence! Paddy O’Shea, much like myself, isn’t supposed to be here tonight. A pity, as I would have liked to say a few words to him too, face to face, man to man… But seeing as the gypsy isn’t man enough, I have no option but to ’spill the beans’, so to speak. A pity indeed.
George Cassidy: Face to face?… When has Hate cared about meeting someone face to face?
Truth Waters: It’s a different thing hitting a guy and then throwing thrash at him. You want them both to hurt as much as possible: that’s why you do the other from the front, the other from the back.
George Cassidy: Like women and men, then?
Truth Waters: …
As Hate begins to speak again, Christy Moore’s ”Raggle Taggle Gypsy” hits the speakers and the crowd explodes in a humongous pop for Paddy O’Shea, who emerges from behind the curtain with two members of his family. O’Shea isn’t smiling despite the overwhelming response he’s getting, and his eyes are instead focused on Hate in standing in the middle of the ring. The three Irishmen begin walking to the ringside area while Azagtoth slowly straightens up and begins pulling something out of his jacket, but Hate stops him with a motion from his hand.
George Cassidy: Well, Hate got what he asked for, and that’s Paddy O’Shea straight in his face! He just has to hope that it doesn’t backfire on him right now.
Truth Waters: The Hate vs Paddy O’Shea match for the PTC Super Series is all but confirmed, as I believe it may be only one or two contracts away from being THE official AWC match-up for the show… But what if they decide to blow it right here and now?
George Cassidy: Yeah, blowing early, a problem that affects you too, Truth.
O’Shea and his escorts slide into the ring, the family members keeping a watchful eye on any suspicious activity on Hate’s part. Azagtoth pulls back to Hate, kneeling down and baring his teeth at the Irish, opting for the two escorts of Paddy to start laughing along with the crowd. Hate and O’Shea, however, have locked their eyes in a psychological contest, trying to stare each other down. Finally, Hate moves, raising the mic back up from his side.
Hate: Ah, pig. How nice of you to drop by to see me. I am a truly delighted man, and honored, to have you here with me. You see, pig, I have something important to suggest you, so listen carefully…
Moving swiftly, Paddy O’Shea steps forward and snaps the mic out of Hate’s hand, eliciting a round of applause from the crowd. Azagtoth looks ready to assault O’Shea, but Hate holds him back by grabbing him by the hair. O’Shea slowly raises the mic, his hand shaking with rage, which comes out as his furious, shaking voice barely containing the emotion within.
O’Shea: No, Hate, ye listen t’ ME! Ever since aye met ye, ye haven’t been nothing but trouble fer me an’ me family! Ye kidnap me dad, ye try to kill me in a wrestling match, ye nail a dead pig on me wall, an’ finally ye put me whole family in danger when ye BLOW UP MY FECKIN’ HOUSE! I don’t wanna hear what ye have t’ say, Hate! Aye’m sick and tired o’ this bullshit! Me only hope, th’ only thing that keeps me sane right now, is th’ knowledge that a’ SUPER SERIES, aye can finally kick yer ass to Kingdom Come! So Hate, YE listen, an’ listen good too! Aye got somethings t’ suggest fer ye too! GO T’HELL, YE BASTARD!
O’Shea throws the mic at Hate’s feet and stares at his nemesis, while the crowd start cheering his straight words. Hate just shakes his head, while Azagtoth glares at the Irishmen from across the ring, looking like he will go even more insane if he’s not let loose soon.
Truth Waters: Paddy O’Shea has about every right in the world to say that, George. The things Hate has done to him in the past few months are almost too horrible to be recounted. O’Shea has been beaten, bloodied, harassed, threatened and nearly made an orphan by Hate and his cohorts!
Hate slowly picks the mic up, and again the crowd start a ”We want Sake!” and a ”Let’s go Paddy!” chant to try and drown out his voice. However, Hate’s powerful voice cuts through the din of the crowd like a sword, cold and sharp.
Hate: I must say, it is refreshing to hear you speak straight words, pig. As soon as you learn to speak English, it will be even better. But as far as your wishes go… I do not think I will be going to Hell. Hell is a metaphorical place for those who believe in the existence of sin, the existence of right and wrong. I am not one of those people. That which I don’t believe in cannot harm me. But now, if you have gotten all that useless drivel out of your system, let me proceed with what I originally came here for. Pig, you don’t like me, and quite frankly, I don’t like you. You have been a thorn in my side, pig, a thorn that I cannot reach no matter how deep I dig and dig. No matter what I do, you refuse to stay down. I cannot stand such foolhardiness. And now, last week on Fresh!, you even decided to mount a sort of a revenge on me! How ludicrous! I must say, you did a number on my head with that bat of yours. But you didn’t put me down and out.
The crowd boos Hate, who merely smiles and taps the stitches on his skull to signify that they’re really nothing. O’Shea looks on, anger distorting his face like a madman.
Hate: And that is what will be your downfall. Because you are unable to compete at my level, unable to grasp the level that I am at, you will come crashing down, pig. PTC Super Series, pig. You know that they want us there: they want us there to beat the ever-living crap out of each other. And I have nothing against it, you know that. If I am paid to beat someone up legally, I won’t give up the chance. But when it’s you I get to face… I’m almost tempted to do it for free. Just to see you bleed. Just to hear you scream. Just to see you cry and whine for mercy like the little pig you are, livestock whining in front of the butcher… At Super Series, pig.
George Cassidy: Doesn’t he know O’Shea’s ACTUAL name?
The fans show their support to Paddy O’Shea by chanting his name, which doesn’t help the Irishman’s mood at all. He’s still staring Hate down, neither man looking away from each other even for a second. Their respective henchmen are getting even more restless, pacing around and checking the front row and the entranceway to determine if there are any ambushing attempts to be made.
George Cassidy: …Hate sounds like he has lost it.
Truth Waters: When doesn’t he?
Hate: There are two things I want from that match, pig. Two things that will seal my victory over you in a final, uncontestable way. First of all, I know that your filthy beggars-for-relatives won’t be able to keep their diseased fingers out of the pot. They will be out there, as you will call for them when your heart bleeds out onto the mat. So I suggest this: let them come to the ringside, from the beginning. Gather ten of your strongest cousins and lovechilds, pig, and I will gather ten of my strongest men. They will act as ’lumberjacks’ on the ringside: free to attack whoever’s on the outside. That way, we don’t have to fear about the match ending in interference of any kind. Sounds like fun, no? The second part… I know that the fans love you, pig. It is painfully obvious they cannot see beyond your empty moral shell and hail you as a hero. It sickens me, the way you mislead these people, make them think thoughts that are not of their own choosing. Since you so enjoy doing it, how about we let them choose again. Let them choose the very tools of your own undoing. I invite any of the fans to bring their homemade weapons for the bout: there is nothing like seeing their hero being destroyed with tools made by the hands that love him.
The crowd begins to cheer Hate, oddly, probably because of a little ECW spirit that lives in every one of us. They quickly boo Hate, though, not letting him forget just where he stands.
Truth Waters: Fan-made weapons?
George Cassidy: Fair enough, I think. Fan participation is always appreciated.
Truth Waters: But what if one of them brings like, say, a shotgun. What would that smartass do then?
George Cassidy: …Duck for cover I presume.
Hate puts his hand out, offering the mic to O’Shea, who grabs it without much hesitation and then proceeds to speak in a dark, determined voice, addressing his words directly to Hate and no-one else.
Paddy O’Shea: Hate, yer full o’ shit as usual. Aye’m fine wif me cousins an’ brothers bein’ there. Yer the one who’s gonna be needin’ backup. Yer gimped goons cannae hold a candle next to me kin! An’ what comes to th’ weapons, aye will accept that too. Wha’ever these people bring us, aye’ll use it to feck ye up, Hate. Aye’ll take half o’ that stuff an’ shove it down yer throat, while th’ other half aye will shove up yer ASS! Ye don’ have to ask any more questions, Hate. Ye know aye’m ready, aye’ve been ready since th’ day ye first showed yer face. Aye knew that one day, aye’d be forced to punch that ugly bastard in his face. An’ now the day has come, Hate. Aye’ll be ready fer ye, an’ I’ll give ye the thrashin’ of ye life! Ye’ll see how a GYPSY fights fer a change!
O’Shea drops the mic to the mat, not even making a move to give it back to Hate. The fans start to strongly cheer his words, as Hate crosses his arms over his chest and smiles at O’Shea, again shaking his head. Both Azagtoth and the two Irishmen tense up, awaiting a brutal encounter, but instead Hate walks back and slips through the ropes to the floor, the confused Azagtoth following him.
George Cassidy: Well, it’s on now, Hate versus Paddy O’Shea in a Fans Bring The Weapons Lumberjack match, if I caught Hate’s suggestions correctly.
Truth Waters: They’re billing it as the Hardcore Lumberjack match on the Super Series site, but we all know it’s going to go beyond hardcore. These two men just loathe each other. I will be surprised if both of them are able to walk out of the building.
George Cassidy: And speaking of walking, here we see Hate hightail it out of the ring after the verbal beating O’Shea gave him.
Hate walks to the back, not even looking back to the ring where Paddy O’Shea continues to yell obscenities at him. The Irishmen stay in the ring, playing to the crowd as we move our attention to the big screen.
The Confrontation (B)
FEATURING: RED ROCK, THE BRITISH BOMBER
AUTHORS: JOSH YOUNG AND NEIL PETERS
The scene cuts backstage in the social area for the superstars, there are a few tables set up there some of the crew are sat down talking with The British Bomber. He sips back his coke and jokes with them. They all laugh out loud when suddenly the door flies open and the wood smacks against the concrete making the noise reverberate around the whole room. Red Rock comes bursting through the door holding The British Bomber's bag he left behind last week. Red Rock is visibly irate as he makes a beeline for where TBB is sitting. Bomber looks over at Red Rock with a painfully worried expression on his face.
Bomber: I think he's pissed because I shot him down!
Crew Member: We're out of here
Red Rock: OI BOMBER!
Red Rock marches over to The British Bomber clenching his fists. Bomber gets up off his seat and holds his hands out in an explaining and calming manner.
Bomber: Look. Red I'm sorry I was so harsh but I don't swing –
Red Rock: Shut the fuck up Steven.
Red Rock unzips TBB's bag and spills it all over the table, inside is rope, duct tape, a rag and some sort of sedative. Bomber gulps and backs up a little bit.
Bomber: What’s all that stuff Red?
Red Rock: Don't fucking bullshit me! You're the CUNT who kidnapped Boolie!
Bomber chuckles to himself.
Bomber: Yeah, and if you hadn't figured it out I'm the one who has been writing you those letters.
Red Rock: You're him too?
Bomber: GAH you really are an idiot!
Red Rock: Why Steven? I thought you were supposed to be a friend?
Bomber: A friend yes, but then you started coming on to me. Friends don’t do that, after the first time you came onto me I devised a plan to get back at you, but the barrage of gayness kept coming at me from all angles and you wouldn’t stop either. So I came up with a plan to get rid of you, to get you out of this place. But you didn’t seem to take the bait with the letters, so last week things got more drastic and I went for an all out attack by kidnapping your precious Boolie. I am not gay Red! I have a kid! I have a girlfriend, if I wanted to give anyone bum love it would be her!
Red Rock pauses and his face slowly drops to complete shock. Red Rock slowly raises his finger and points at TBB with his jaw dropped.
Red Rock: You... think I'm gay? I'm not gay! Why do you think I'm gay?
Bomber: On Fresh you tried to tell me you loved me!
Red Rock: I was ASKING where Boolie was, looks like you knew that one!
Bomber: I heard you talking to Dr. Steven Burns about how Hate gave you a pounding in the arse and tossed you off and how you broke up with Paddy O'Shea!
Red Rock: NO! I said he gave me a pounding as in he beat me up! And he tossed me off the bus! AND about Paddy I was talking about betraying him and letting him get attacked by Varga!
Bomber: I don't believe you! You're just saying that because you can't have me and it makes you feel better about yourself!
Red Rock: You're a rasclart Bomber! I am going to fuck you up at Testimony!
Bomber: You wish! I'll make it so you'll never suck another cock again!
Red Rock steps forward face to face with Bomber glaring aggressively in to his eyes.
Bomber: Just remember Boolie is in the closet right now! So watch what you say!
Red Rock: I think it's you that's in the closet mate!
Bomber: I'M NOT A FUCKING POOF!
Bomber shoves Red Rock away from him as the two men stare each other down. Bomber snatches his bag off Red Rock and storms away as Red Rock stares daggers at TBB.
Tim Martin vs James Varga The Handler
STIPULATION: SINGLES
REFEREE: JOSEPH REID
AUTHOR: FERGUS
James Brunt: The following is a singles match. Introducing first, from Las Vegas, Nevada, weighing in at 130 pounds… JAMES VARGA THE HANDLER!
The lights fade out around the Dodge Theater and all goes quiet as ‘Ninja’ by 7 Seconds of Love begins to play. Varga comes flying through the backstage curtain and mimicking the cats in the video. Psychedelic lights brighten up the arena and the fans are taken by the strobe effects.
Truth Waters: Damn, all I can see are lots of colours!
George Cassidy: You’re telling me, this is insane!
Varga is bouncing around the aisle when the music video seems to come to life. Men, women, children, Vikings, cats; you name it comes out of the backstage and begins to juke and jive along to the music. Varga then leaps into the ring, motioning for his fellow dancers to come join him but they simply tour the edge of the ring before dancing all the way back up the aisle. Slowly the lights fade back up as Varga continues to dance in the ring, shimmying with his arms and legs to the beat, still in his head.
George Cassidy: We’re not on drugs right? I did see human sized cats frolicking with Vikings yeah?
Truth Waters: I think so…
James Brunt: And his opponent…
The lights begin to dim slightly as the AWC theme song plays out to the crowd. Out from the back comes the figure of Tim Martin, strutting down to the ring like a peacock. The crowd boos pretty decently and all Martin does is push up his nose that little bit further.
Truth Waters: He thinks he’s so big.
George Cassidy: Well he is, look at that nose.
James Brunt: TIM MARTIN!
In no time at all Martin is in the ring where referee Joseph Reid is saying a few words to Varga. Varga simply nods and accepts. Reid ambles over to Martin waiting in the other corner and gives him some instructions also.
Ding! Ding!
Truth Waters: And we’re off folks, welcome to Arizona and this is Fresh!burst ahead of next week’s Testimony PPV!
George Cassidy: And don’t worry, there’s plenty of commentary featuring me, George Cassidy.
Cassidy gives the camera a wink, his crooked smile and Machiavellian disposition in plain view. Waters just ignores him, flexing a muscle as the camera switches to the action.
Varga and Martin immediately rush at each other, locking up in a tie up. Martin sneakily uses a subtle poke to the eye, sending Varga stuttering back towards the ropes. Martin heads after, whipping him off the ropes.
Truth Waters: Tim Martin using any methods he can in order to get a grip on this match early on.
George Cassidy: And the Dark Helmet eats the big clothesline!
The camera zooms in as Varga’s neck is torn into by a big clothesline. Martin looks happy with himself and pushes his nose up again in disgust. The crowd eats it up, booing horrendously.
Truth Waters: Look at this guy, he’s in the match barely five seconds and already he’s taunting his opponent.
George Cassidy: There’s nothing wrong with that Waters, I’m sure you did your fair share of insult throwing when you were competing. I do stress were of course.
Truth Waters: The show’s barely started, don’t you start your jibes already.
Meanwhile, Tim Martin picks up Varga, taking him into a headlock. He casually holds onto Varga and taunts once again for all to boo and despise him.
Truth Waters: Sheer arrogance… but wait! He’s been too cocky!
Martin has no time to react as Varga dumps him unceremoniously over him into a suplex pin.
ONE!
TWO!
Martin is stunned at his opponent’s audacity and spins to his feet, turning only to receive a right hand to the jaw. This is quickly followed with some lefts and rights, pushing him into the ropes. Varga twirls and gives a crescent kick, knocking Martin right out of the ring and receiving a rapturous applause.
Truth Waters: Now that’s better, the Dark Helmet taking his chances now.
George Cassidy: What an idiot, does he know that he can’t dance or is he trying to insult us?
Cassidy is of course referring to Varga in the middle of the ring bouncing around just as he was in his entrance, feeling the beat once again. Using this momentum he spins into the ropes and rushes back towards the opposite ropes. Martin is meanwhile recovering and is just about to make his way back in the ring when…
Truth Waters: Shooting star press to the outside! Holy Moly!
The crowd screams out as Varga connects taking down both himself and Martin in the process. Both men lie in a bit of a heap as the crowd chants for Varga. In no time at all he gets to his feet, holding his hands up and clicking his fingers. He calls to everyone and urges them to follow. Waters can’t help but join in.
George Cassidy: What are you doing? I knew you were an idiot!
Truth Waters: I can’t help it! It’s just so infectious.
Varga channels the momentum, throwing Martin back into the ring. Pulling him to his feet, he aims an elbow to the face and then takes him into a swift headlock and subsequent DDT. Martin bounces off the canvas and has little time to react before Varga plants a big legdrop and cover.
ONE!
TW-
Martin gets the shoulder up and pushes to his feet. Varga is right on top of him and goes for a right hand. Tim ducks and grabs at Varga’s neck, locking on a choke hold and not only this but pushing Varga on to the ropes for added pain. Reid immediately tells him to break it or be DQ’ed.
George Cassidy: I love this!
Reid is up to four at least before Martin relinquishes the hold and gives Varga a swift kick to the grapefruits. The crowd boo at this, seeing Varga lying on the canvas and clutching his precious cargo for all its worth. Joseph Reid admonishes Martin but he lets the action continue.
Truth Waters: Oh come on Reid! That’s a clear DQ, no question. Do your damn job you addict!
Reid quite clearly hears the remark but chooses to ignore it, instead returning to watching and observing the action. Martin now has Varga by the head and it’s easy pickings for him. Two rights and then another poke to the eye, this time unseen by Reid, are followed up by a wicked exploder suplex much to the crowd’s dismay. Varga flops onto the canvas like a rag doll, limbs flailing all over the place. Martin arrogantly covers Varga, one hand barely covering the body.
Truth Waters: This could be it.
ONE!
TWO!
With a split second reflex, Varga barely pushes his shoulder up and Reid calls the match to continue. Martin is furious and remonstrates with Reid who has no trouble sticking up for himself. All this goes until Varga again surprises Martin, this time with a roll-up.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
George Cassidy: ...
Truth Waters: It’s... over?
George Cassidy: What a weird finish! Tim Martin succumbing to a simple roll-up by the lightweight!
Varga leaps around like the lunatic he is.
James Brunt: The winner... JAMES VARGA THE HANDLER!
Laying Down The Law
FEATURING: PATRICK MAPLELEAF, POLICE OFFICERS
AUTHOR: PATRICK
A white limousine is seen pulling in front of the building. The driver gets out and goes around to the back passenger side. He opens up the door, and Patrick Mapleleaf steps out. He is wearing his long red robe with white trim and the Canadian flag imprinted on the back.
Patrick Mapleleaf: Think you could open it a little faster next time, Jerkie? I almost saw the flow of time passing by me like a Mack truck and a snail!
Driver: Sorry, sir.
Patrick Mapleleaf: And call me sir!
Driver: I did…
Patrick Mapleleaf: What did you call my mother?!
Mapleleaf brushes it off and walks into the arena. He is met with a series of boos.
George Cassidy: What is going on here? What is Mapleleaf doing here tonight? He’s off!
Truth Waters:: I don’t know, but you can bet that it’s not good, especially since he is heading this way!
Mapleleaf walks down the hall of the backstage area. He playfully pushes one of the lowly employees against the wall. His head meets the concrete in a graphic crunch that has Mapleleaf in stitches. Mapleleaf walks to the entrance to the ramp in the arena, and comes out on top of the ramp. The fans begin to boo deafeningly. Mapleleaf waves his hands as “Oh, Canada,” starts to play, as delayed as it is. He walks down the ramp, his robe flowing behind him.
George Cassidy: Am I the only one who notices that Mapleleaf is dressed in wrestling gear?
Truth Waters: He’s nuts. He probably actually thinks he has a match tonight!
Mapleleaf walks up the stairs into the ring. He grabs a mic from the corner and blows it off. The music cuts out.
Patrick Mapleleaf: Your new favorite wrestler…has arrived!!
The fans boo in response.
Asshole
Asshole
Asshole!
Patrick Mapleleaf: In my match tonight, I swear that I am going to show you all once and for all just what kind of man I am. If you all didn’t see it from last week’s little love fest between Laura Winters and I, then you all will sure as hell see just what I am aBOOT this week! Now then, who am I facing this week?
Crowd: No one!!
Patrick Mapleleaf: Come again? No one? You have to be kidding me! I even put on my lucky trunks, not that you people deserve to see them. Well then, I guess I have a week to prepare for Testimony. Who am I facing?
Crowd: NO ONE!!!
Patrick Mapleleaf: This is an outrage! I refuse to leave this ring until I have a match for Testimony!
The fans boo.
Truth Waters: And he means business.
Patrick Mapleleaf gets down on his hands and knees, then lies down in the middle of the ring.
George Cassidy: What is this?
Patrick Mapleleaf: Here I am! And I am not moving until I have a match at Testimony! Go ahead, try to have this show AROUND me! There is nothing in Heaven or Hell that will get me to get up from this mat unless I have a match for the Pay Per View event!
Two uniformed police officers appear and walk down the ramp. The fans cheer. Mapleleaf looks up, his eyes coming out of his head as he sees the men come into the ring and grab his arms, slapping them into handcuffs.
George Cassidy: I guess that got him to move! HAHA!
The cops grab him and escort him out of the ring.
Patrick Mapleleaf: Hands off! Get your hands off me, they are full of microorganisms and paramecium! I know I good lawyer, you waggle toothed pop-in-jay! Harber! Harber, you son of a bitch! You give me a match or else I will sue you, your company, your mother, father, and your Grade 3 teacher! You can all go suck a lemon!
The cops escort Mapleleaf up the ramp and out of sight.
George Cassidy: There’s one less nuisance to worry about.
Truth Waters: True, but this isn’t the end of this.
Two Of The Hardest Words Ever
FEATURING: DAVID "PEARL" HARBER, HATE
AUTHOR: JAAKKO OKSA
The scene cuts backstage into the office of David ”Pearl” Harber, where he is staring intently at the door. He saw earlier tonight that someone he really wouldn’t care to see was in the building, and just knows that therefore he has to meet them. The moments go by, and then the silence is cut by the sharp sound of two taps on the door. Pearl takes a breath before leaning back in his chair and pretending to be interested in his computer screen.
Pearl: Enter!
The door opens, and in steps all 6’2” of Hate, still clad in his trenchcoat. Hate, despite meeting with the man who has made his job difficult in the past month, is smiling, as if nothing that Pearl had done to hinder his career had had any effect. Hate walks straight up to Harber’s desk and stops, looking down onto his boss who is ignoring the red-headed cult leader.
Hate: Won’t you offer me a seat, Mr. Harber?
Hate speaks with a sweet, mocking voice, and Pearl looks up to him with nothing but disgust on his face. After the wordless reply from Pearl, Hate merely chuckles and starts pressing his knuckles against the table until he can hear the scarred and broken bones crack. Hate: Now, Mr. Harber, I come to you with a request…
Pearl suddenly turns to face Hate in his chair, and begins to laugh straight into Hate’s face. The Fifth Horseman is a bit taken aback as he straightens up, staring down at David Harber with the same disgust Pearl moments ago showed him. Pearl stands up himself as well, without fear, and stares straight into Hate’s eyes as he speaks.
Pearl: Let me tell you something, Hate. You are in no position to request anything. Or ask. Or demand. I will give you nothing you plead me to do. Time and time again, you have assaulted my staff, you have assaulted my wrestlers, you have broken my equipment… Tell me why I shouldn’t bill you for all the damages you have caused me? I could sue you and take your ass to the courts for every penny you have and will ever make. I could force you to live like a slave for the rest of your life, indebted to me beyond all mortal dreams. Is that what you wish?
Hate is surprised by Pearl lashing out at him, and closes his mouth as he is about to reply, instead merely staring into Pearl’s face, looking for a hint of what this all is about. Finally, Hate smiles mockingly again and presses both of his hands on the table, leaning closer to Pearl.
Hate: You wouldn’t do it. You don’t have the guts, Mr. Harber. Your punishments to me have merely been inconveniences. You had me arrested, Mr. Harber. You had me trailed by security guards. You had me serve that fat rodent O’Shea and you had me banned from a match I rightfully belonged to. You have done all this to me, and yet I am here. You know that merely terminating my contract or banning me from somewhere won’t stop me. I have shown it to you, time and time again. You cannot hold me down, Mr. Harber. What a delicate situation, am I right? Now, the reason I came here…
Suddenly, Pearl cuts Hate off by prodding him in the chest, cutting The Fifth Horseman in mid-sentence. Hate looks down at Pearl’s index finger like a bear who has just been attacked by a rabbit, not knowing whether it’d be worth eating the offending appendage or not. When Pearl speaks, it is again with a furious voice, booming over any other noise in the room.
Pearl: Hate, lets cut the bullshit. I will not listen to it no more. Not until I have the stranglehold on you. Therefore, I must restate my request. Either apologize for all the damages you have caused, or else you won’t be fighting on AWC events anymore.
Hate merely laughs at Pearl’s suggestion and shoves his arm aside, sneering at the entertainment manager.
Hate: Feh, like I said, Mr. Harber, it won’t work. I will find a way inside, and I will continue with my acts. You cannot stop me.
Pearl: This ban would get rid of you in the Testimony main event…
Hate: You won’t do it, Mr. Harber! I know you too well!
Pearl: … and would also ban you as the official AWC representative to the PTC Super Series against Paddy O’Shea.
Suddenly, with Pearl’s last sentence, Hate seems to freeze on the spot. His eyes flare wide open and he takes a few sharp breaths before staring Pearl down with a murderous glare. Pearl stands his ground, staring Hate right back.
Hate: You wouldn’t…
Pearl: On the contrary, I would love to do it! I merely have to make a single phone call and you’ll be off of the card. We’ll replace you with someone like The Illustrious Face-Eater, or Jonny Sake, or even FREDROCK~! For Christ’s sake. I don’t care, as long as it wouldn’t be you. And not even you could sneak into the Super Series. You would be denied of your shot at Paddy O’Shea, and I know how long you have been wanting to get your hands on his throat.
Hate takes a few steps back, obviously stunned by Pearl’s announcement. Pearl seems to warm up to his role even more, continuing his speech as Hate still stares at him, shaking his head in disbelief.
Pearl: All that work, all that talk, all that little backstabbing…. All that for nothing. You’d never face him, not in PTC, not in the AWC, nowhere. And that, my friend, is how I will get the stranglehold on you.
Hate: Mr. Harber, I suppose an explanation is out of place right now…
Pearl: Damn right it is! I’m tired of not having control over a member of my roster. I have always considered myself a good eye for talent, and the truth is, Hate, people will pay to see you to an extent. But your antics cause me harm to no end, and that has to stop. Apologize or I will pull you from the Super Series.
Hate still tries to stare Pearl down, but it is clear that the threat is hurting him bad. Hate twists his fingers and bites the back of his hand, hissing at Pearl with every breath. The entertainment manager maintains his cool, standing behind his desk with his hand on the phone. Finally, Hate lets out a sigh and then bows his head, raising his hand towards Pearl as his hate for Paddy O’Shea wins over his hate for Pearl.
Hate: Very well, Mr. Harber. I see there is no way around you this time. I admire a man who will stand behind his opinions, even if it costs them. I realize how much financial and personal damage I have caused you, Mr. Harber, by disrespecting your laws, your personnel and you yourself. For all that, I… I…
Hate goes silent for a moment, taking a few deep breaths again before continuing.
Hate: I… apologize.
Pearl nods approvingly as Hate lets his hand slide back down. Pearl sits down, but Hate doesn’t raise his head back up, instead keeping his stare fixed on the floor.
Pearl: Well, that wasn’t so hard was it? Alright, Hate, you have yourself a deal then. I will approve of your suggestions for your match at Super Series. Lumberjacks and fan-made weapons it is. I would wish you luck for your pay-per-view match, but I have to maintain at least some sort of a reputation around here.
Hate merely nods at Pearl and then turns around to walk out. While he’s stepping through the door, however, Hate stops and slams his hand against the wall of Pearl’s office, startling the entertainment manager. With his head still bent low, Hate speaks in a sinister, menacing voice.
Hate: This will not end, Mr. Harber. This will never end. The battle, the war… You know how it goes. Cleanse the impure, Mr. Harber…
Hate then walks out, leaving Pearl to ponder on his last words.
A Link To The Past
FEATURING: JOHN (T.T.S.), JOHN (JOHN (T.T.S.)'S FATHER - NOT REMOTELY CONFUSING
AUTHOR: ANGUS SINCLAIR
Most boys do it. In fact, I’d be surprised if by the age of thirteen every boy hadn’t done it. John did it. Our story is set in leafy suburbia, a nice house on the outskirts of London. John is something-Teen.
The grandfather clock in the hall rings out one, and John is in the lounge. His wide eyes are illuminated by the blue glare of the television set that lights up the teenage figure in pajamas, wrapped in a goose-feather duvet. The volume is low, although not entirely muted. It’s not the same without the sound. The fourth step of the Victorian staircase creaks upstairs. Alert, John’s gaze momentarily snaps away from the screen as he takes a breath. It had almost climaxed, he wants to finish, but he’ll be so embarrassed if he’s caught. John’s father, who incidentally is also called John, couldn’t sleep and as such is creeping down to the larder to fetch some cocoa. John the younger is now biting his lip in anticipation as he hears his father inching closer, a single bead of sweat crawls down his brow. Outside the lounge door the elder John hears the television set. The image on the television set is pounding away, faster and faster as John’s father inches closer to the lounge. In a huge release John something-Teen exhales as Johnny Saint beats Steve Grey to retain his world lightweight title. The lounge door opens as a static noise emits from the TV set. John’s father enters the room to find his teenage son up watching the afternoon’s rugby repeat on the television.
“Up watching rugger again eh? That’s my boy.”
The younger John smiles at his father.
“Get some bloody sleep boy, you’ve got Judo in the morning.”
“Yes Father.”
Like I said, most boys have watched wrestling by their early teens. God knows what John’s father would have said should he have caught him.
In A Change To Our Schedule...
FEATURING: T.T.S.
AUTHOR: ANGUS SINCLAIR
John wakes up in a cold sweat.
John: Harry, get your gear on.
“Get A Move On” by Mr. Scruff resonates the hall. Harry storms through the curtain complete with London Scottish Rugby tracksuit and gum shield. John, in tail, looks somewhat pale.
Truth Waters: It’s time for the next match, with John of T.T.S. taking on Titan.
In the ring now, John demands the ring announcer’s microphone.
John: As a Briton I am proud of my heritage. As a Briton I wrestle a British style. And as a Briton I wrestle under the Mount Evans rules, forged in the Houses of Commons in London way before you sniveling lower class...
John is drowned out by a plethora of boos and USA chants.
John: I don’t interrupt you when you flip burgers at your job, so don’t interrupt me while I’m talking at mine. As I was saying – being a traditionalist I refuse to wrestle a man who has a 29-pound weight advantage over me...
The fans now are rabid, crying out that John is a pussy.
John: As such, my lean mean trendy rugby machine will be wrestling Titan tonight!
Harry (T.T.S.) vs Titan
STIPULATION: SINGLES
REFEREE: AARON DAVIES
AUTHOR: PIERRE HYDE
George Cassidy: Looks like we’re seeing Harry take on Titan instead, then...
Truth Waters: What?! They can’t just change the card like that! It’s scheduled to be Titan against John of T.T.S., not Harry!
George Cassidy: What does it matter? They’re practically the same.
Harry now ambles down to the ring, absorbing some mild booing with nonchalance as he elaborately shakes John’s hand before rolling in under the ropes, John having exited to ringside.
James Brunt: The following is a singles match. In the ring, from London, England, weighing in at 284 pounds... a Trendy Twenty-Something, HARRY!
Truth Waters: I don’t like it. Blatant disregard for Pearl’s authority. I’ve got no idea why we were shown that flashback either...
George Cassidy: Would you just leave it? Let’s take this chance to assess one part of the duo that will be competing for the Alliance titles at Testimony.
Fireworks shoot off into the air at the entrance-way and "Let The Hammer Fall" by Hammerfall begins playing, the fans stand up now and the lights dim down just a little bit. From out of the back steps Titan as the crowd cheers at a moderate level and he makes his way to the ring.
James Brunt: And his opponent, from Toronto, Ontario, Canada, weighing in at 293 pounds... TITAN!
It’s getting closer now
The clock strikes midnight time
It is the tolling of the judgement bell
You fear the dead of night
There ain’t no place to hide
This is your point of no return
Now we are ready to strike, again
It’s getting far too late, my friend
Let the hammer fall
Titan is now in the ring and he climbs on the turnbuckle and raises his arm with a very proud look on his face, the fans again cheering and going a little more wild now though you can hear a few drowned boos in the crowd tonight. The music slowly fades out and the lights begin to dim back up as Titan steps down to the canvas.
George Cassidy: This man is very physically intimidating, and looked impressive on Fresh! in one of the Trio Tag matches, helping Deliverance to a victory over Jason Locke, Tim Shipley and Adalia Delorian, the last of which, you will know if you read the website, has parted ways with AWC.
Truth Waters: Indeed, he’s a promising talent. Though I draw the line at “intimidating”. Do I intimidate you, Cassidy?
George Cassidy: Er...
Truth Waters: Pussy.
The bell rings. Aaron Davies, in charge for this match, motions for the competition to begin, and the two powerhouses square up at once, Harry throwing a clubbing blow at the taller Titan. Titan takes it and punches Harry square in the jaw, rocking the T.T.S. man; Titan follows up with a whip into the ropes and subsequent scoop slam.
Truth Waters: The heavier you are, the more a basic body slam hurts.
George Cassidy: With these two around the same weight, it’s going to be a battle of muscle. I might just leave...
Truth Waters: Most of us would see it as a blessing that we’ll be able to avoid any leg grapevines or single leg takedowns in this match.
Harry rolls to his feet and raises a knee into the ribs of Titan, jarring the bigger man. Not wanting to miss this opportunity, Harry rears back to deliver a knife-edge chop across his chest, before performing a rough vertical suplex.
George Cassidy: Titan goes down hard from the suplex.
Titan rolls over onto his front, a hand to his back, as John shouts encouragement from ringside to his partner, who is putting the boots to Titan enthusiastically. Harry steps off, allowing Titan to pull himself up, and shoves him up against the turnbuckle, throwing a hard right hand into his forehead.
Truth Waters: Who can punch harder?
Titan once more doesn’t let the blow affect him, rolling a haymaker into the side of Harry’s head. It’s only a minor punch, though, and Harry brings up his right leg to look to choke out Titan. Before there is the need for a call for official assistance, though, Titan grabs hold of the leg and twists it sharply, causing Harry to cry out in pain and lose his footing. With Harry grounded, having spun into a position with his head nearest Titan and the corner, Titan can push himself up onto the second turnbuckle and drop off with a leg landing over the collarbone.
George Cassidy: Titan hit the mat with a thud. I bet Harry felt that.
Truth Waters: So did the crowd. The entire arena floor moved with the impact, as evidenced by an audible “OOH” from behind us.
Looking anxious at ringside, John chews on his fingernails as Titan moves slowly to his feet, bringing Harry with him. A couple of uncontested head punches later, Titan wraps his big arms around Harry’s equally considerable body and lifts him overhead in a devastating belly-to-belly suplex!
George Cassidy: Now THAT rocked the ring, a little more realistically, Truth!
Truth Waters: What a belly-to-belly... all two-eighty pounds of Harry going overhead and slamming down. Titan could have it early.
Titan’s lateral press gets the first count of the match.
ONE!
TWO!
Harry kicks out.
George Cassidy: Kickout, but barely.
Truth Waters: John is looking twitchy.
Snarling at his partner’s inability to make much of an impact so far, John storms across to the announce table.
John: Gi’s a chair, mate.
Truth Waters: No chance.
George Cassidy: Stupid Brit.
In the ring, Titan slings Harry against the ropes and nails him with a clothesline, before looking for another pinfall.
ONE!
TWO!
Kickout.
John: Look, I ‘aven’t got all day, Harry’s sinking in there.
Truth Waters: Jolly good! Haha. See what I did there Cass –
WHAM! A fist across the face from John, who drags the commentator off his chair and removes it for his own use. Sliding it into the ring, he makes to go after it, but he’s made one big mistake.
You don’t mess with Truth Waters.
George Cassidy: Leave it, Truth!
Waters grabs John and throws him hard against the ringpost, his head connecting with a sickening smack. Observing the gash on the fallen T.T.S.’s forehead, Waters nods slowly and plants a boot into his chest for good measure. The crowd is going crazy for the African-American announcer: ”TRUTH! TRUTH! TRUTH!”
George Cassidy: Have you lost your mind? Remember the trouble you got into the last time?
Titan fends off the weak challenge from Harry, blocking a punch and spinning him round. He now lifts him up on his back and just as the focus returns to the action, hits a ferocious Titan Buster on the steel chair!
George Cassidy: TITAN BUSTER! Onto the chair that was intended for Harry’s use!
Waters watches from ringside with no expression on his face as Davies makes the count.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
George Cassidy: It’s over here, the outcome hinging in no small part on my co-commentator’s involvement! I assure you that this was not pre-meditated, he simply retaliated to John provoking him...
Cassidy looks on with... is that anxiety in his eyes? Surely not... John gets to his feet and shoots a look of pure venom at Truth Waters as he enters the ring, blood running freely from his hairline gash, to console Harry. Titan is meanwhile having his arm raised.
James Brunt: The winner... TITAN!
Mirror, Mirror, On The Wall
FEATURING: PADDY O'SHEA, MIKE WADE, THE FARMER, AZAGTOTH
AUTHOR: MICHAEL DOHERTY
The scene opens up backstage in the locker room of Paddy O’Shea and Mike Wade. Since Mike Wade has joined the Irish clique in the AWC, The Farmer has protested by refusing to share a locker room with him. Right now only Paddy O’Shea is in the room, watching a recorded match of Hate vs. Kuff McSlade, looking for weaknesses before their upcoming match at Super Series. He is sitting attentively, watching the action unfolding before him, watching Hate hit the Eleventh Commandment, watching his every movement.
Paddy is dressed in only casual clothes, as he isn’t booked tonight. However, he felt compelled to make an appearance tonight. He can’t appear to be avoiding Hate. He can’t appear to be fearful no matter what his gut is telling him.
Suddenly the door flies open and Mickey Fitz-McCarthy is standing in the doorway with annoyance etched on his face.
The Farmer: Aye hope ye seen tha’ match last week!
Mickey walks in and closes the door behind him. He then takes a seat beside Paddy and waits for an answer.
Paddy O'Shea: What are ye on about now?
The Farmer: Mike Wade! Beating me with a chair shot!
Paddy sighs long and hard which seems to annoy Mickey even more.
Paddy O'Shea: Look Mickey, it was a WEAPONS match therefore ye can use weapons, like a cane fer example. Aye mean, aye didn’t want ye’s fightin’ but ye insisted. He wanted t’ prove he could be trusted an’ he did! He clobbered Ian English who was going t’ attack ye!
The Farmer: Wha’? And ye believe tha’ bull? It’s a show Paddy, he’ll turn on ye an’ when he does it’ll be me who has t’ pick up the pieces!
Paddy O'Shea: Look Mickey, aye think ye should leave. Aye don’t want t’ deal with this right now! Aye’ve got a match t’ prepare fer!
Mickey opens his mouth to say something as the rage builds up yet he closes it instead. It hasn’t been easy for him these last few weeks. He’s constantly put Paddy first with the Hate situation escalating. Now he’s trying to protect him once again but his ‘friend’ won’t listen. Fine, let him make buddy buddies with that weasel. The Farmer gets up and leaves the room. A few seconds later and Mike Wade comes in with a smile on his face.
Mike Wade:What’s up Paddy me man?
Paddy O'Shea: Oh nothing, nothing at all.
Mike sees the frustration on Paddy’s face and puts a hand on his shoulder.
Mike Wade: Look if it’s about Mickey, he’ll come around eventually. He just doesn’t realise we’re friends.
Paddy looks up into Mike’s smiling face and smiles back.
Paddy O'Shea: Thanks Mike.
Mike Wade: Look, aye’m going t’ get some drinks, ye want anything back?
Paddy shakes his head but smiles at him in gratitude. Mike takes the hint and exits them room cheerfully. Once the door closes behind him Paddy gets up and turns off the television. He’s studied that monster enough today and he needs a rest.
Paddy walks over to the mirror hung on the wall and stares at it with weary eyes.
Paddy O'Shea: Wha’ am aye goin’ t’ do?
Paddy drops his head but then raises it with a snap when he hears a voice.
Voice: Die.
Paddy looks around to see who said it but he knows already where the voice has come from…behind the mirror. Paddy stares closely at the mirror, so close his nose is touching the glass. He opens his mouth to speak but he’s cut off when the glass suddenly sprays over him. Paddy falls to the ground motionless and Azagtoth steps through, a hammer held in his grasp, bloody at the part, which shattered the glass then connected with Paddy’s face, a menacing smile on his face.
Azagtoth: Just a message from my master. Come Super Series, you WILL meet your demise.
Azagtoth carefully steps over the top of Paddy’s motionless body and exits the room with a chuckle. The camera zooms into the bloody face of Paddy O’Shea as the door closes with a click.
The Confrontation (C)
FEATURING: TIM SHIPLEY, THE ILLUSTRIOUS FACE-EATER
AUTHOR: PIERRE HYDE
Tim Shipley: “Omniscient”? Do you even know what that means, Face-Eater?
Shipley sneers, confident from the off tonight. He’s got his old trainer Six Knots back and has been working rigorously towards his match this Friday – as his contract dictates, his last in AWC, and his last in pro wrestling; if not forever, at least for a good while. He wants to go out on a high – he’s just got to. Win or lose, he’ll find out who’s been tormenting him all this time, but after three losses to The Illustrious Face-Eater without reply, Shipley’s got to get his own back, or his crippling lack of self-confidence might set in just when he’s leaving the business. His swansong might be his downfall.
Tonight, therefore, he’s brash and upfront. He’s on top of the world at the moment, basking in the fans’ adulation and confident that he’s finally going about this feud the right way.
Unfortunately, it seems he just took a wrong turn.
Face-Eater: I have no idea what you’re fucking talking about.
This throws Shipley. All along, Facey’s been happy to take credit for his efforts. But now, in the familiar confines of a locker room – yes, that’s all it is, and it’s even crummier than usual in tonight’s venue of the Dodge Theater – TIFE is claiming no knowledge of the word daubed on the door of the room of Summer’s Son at last week’s event.
Tim Shipley: You know exactly what I'm talking about, since you wrote it on my door.
Face-Eater looks at Shipley testily, getting up from his seated position and advancing on Shipley – who, now thoroughly confused, is looking more and more like the proverbial rabbit in the headlights he’s always been. Backing off, backing off, as TIFE takes charge.
Face-Eater: If you have a point, make it. If you don’t... FAKE IT!
Shipley raises his eyes to the heavens – but now, his sarcasm is not without caution.
Tim Shipley: I – er – the letter you left... “Always lurking in secret”...
Face-Eater: Put them together, Shitley. “Always lurking in secret”... “Omniscient”... can’t you see it? Though it beats me who’s doing it. Point is, I don’t care, nor will I ever. If someone wants to use my heat to get at you, they can get the fuck out of the way till I'm through with you. And Shitley?
Tim had turned to leave, looking thoroughly disappointed. He turns back.
Face-Eater: Do I look like I “lurk in secret”? Get a clue.
The plot thickens.
Face-Eater: And Timmy?
Shipley sniffs.
Face-Eater: I'm gonna FUCK your FACE next week!
He sniffs again.
This time in disdain.
And leaves.
Watching To Learn
FEATURING: THE BRITISH BOMBER
AUTHOR: NEIL PETERS
We cut back to the locker room which has the name “The British Bomber” inscribed on the nameplate which was stuck on the door. We go inside and sat down in front of a monitor was the man himself, The British Bomber.
Bomber: So here we are, Fresh!burst, and Red Rock just about to begin his match. You have to wonder how focused he is, how much his mind is on the match. You see after I took Boolie away from him on Fresh! last week his mind must have been all over the place. Then this week, tonight, he found out that it was me. I mean how stupid have you got to be, I sent him the letters, and he never even thought to check my bag.
Bomber continued staring at the monitor as it shown Red Rock preparing for his match.
Bomber: See, now if I was Red I would be wanting to avoid this match at all costs, and try to get my head round what has happened during this evening. But no, like the big shot he wants to fight.
Bomber chuckles as he continues to watch.
Bomber: And now, that raging gaylord is going to get his hands on another poor guy! Then at Testimony, me and Red Rock, in a table match. Boy I can't wait for that match, even after the bell rings at the end of the match, I will continue to put Red though table after table until he learns it is not right to touch up other grown men!
Bomber then turned to face the camera.
Bomber: At Testimony this Friday, Red Rock better be ready because if he fails to beat me, he will never see Boolie again... And Red, I hope you take this in when you see the tape, because I will mail you each and every part of Boolie that I cut up. I’ll see you Friday.
Bomber turns his attention back to the monitor ready to watch Red’s match.
Red Rock (C) vs Jonny Sake
STIPULATION: SINGLES
REFEREE: LARS LARSSON
AUTHOR: MICHAEL DOHERTY
Truth Waters: Now for the main event. Jonny Sake has the chance tonight to claim the Livewire title after beating Hate two weeks ago.
George Cassidy: And what a shocker that was! Hate, a man who destroyed everyone in the Streets of London match being beaten by… The Big Daddy!
Cassidy leans back in his chair and begins to bark laughter. Waters looks on annoyed.
Truth Waters: I thought we would have got past that joke by now.
George Cassidy: Nope.
The plodding keyboard of Linkin Park’s nu-metal anthem “In The End” now announces the entrance of Jonny Sake.
James Brunt: The following is a singles match for the Livewire championship! Introducing first, from Manhattan, New York, weighing in at 346 pounds... JONNY – “The Big Daddy” – SAKE!
Sake emerges from behind the curtains to a chorus of boos. Sake walks to the ring shouting various derogatory comments to the masses and then slides into the ring with a frown.
Truth Waters: We haven’t really seen Jonny Sake since he helped hospitalize Kris Krimzon nearly two months ago. But these people haven’t forgotten what he did. Look at the reaction to him!
George Cassidy: Jonny Sake did what he had to do. Imagine having a guy like Krimzon prancing about the show all time. These people just don’t realise Sake done them a favour!
Truth Waters: Oh please. No one deserves what happened to Kris Krimzon. Sake was involved in The Educator’s conspiracy and he threw him off a building! It’s only fair that he’s treated like this!
The opening feed back of "Blame Thrower" by Reuben hits as the lights lower to darkness. The opening riff hits and the lights flicker red, and Red Rock's logo hits the tron. The heavy riff kicks in...
We all have responsibilities,
we all have a social debt
and if there is a man free of guilt,
I haven't met him yet
... and Red Rock bursts out from behind the curtain with huge amounts of energy. His Livewire title is held proudly around his waist.
So now you’re backed in a corner,
you’re under verbal attack
they’re pointing fingers like guns in your face and
nobody’s got your back
Red Rock walks down to the ring with a cheeky smile on his face giving members or the crowd a nod and a thumbs up but making an effort not to touch anyone. Red Rock reaches the ring and pulls himself up on to the apron and hops over the top rope and poses to the crowd, pouting with his hand on his hip.
James Brunt: And his opponent, from Aldershot, England, weighing in at 197 pounds… the Livewire champion, RED ROCK!
George Cassidy: Oh look, Red Rock…yay.
Truth Waters: I think the crowd have picked sides in this match. What support from the fans!
The two square up in the centre of the ring. The 5’10 Red Rock has to strain his neck just to eyeball Sake. Lars Larsson rings the bell and the match kicks off.
Truth Waters: This is these two guys first meeting so it’s going to be a difficult match for both of them. Right now, none of them really know the others weaknesses.
Red Rock offers Jonny a test of strength. The two look hands but Sake immediately fires a boot into Red Rocks gut then a short uppercut, knocking Red Rock to the mat. Sake walks over casually and begins stomping a hole in the champion’s chest.
George Cassidy: Why do guys always do that?
Truth Waters: Do what?
George Cassidy: Tests of strength? I’ve never seen one where they actually carry it out.
Truth Waters: Maybe it’s just Red Rock’s good sportsmanship side shining through, who knows?
Sake pulls Red Rock onto his feet and delivers an elbow to the side of RR’s head. He then throws him off the ropes and catches him with a huge clothesline on his return. Red Rock slowly gets to his feet but he’s put back down with a vicious kick to the ribs.
George Cassidy: Ouch, that’s going to leave a mark.
Truth Waters: Red Rocks finding it difficult to cope with Sake superior size and strength at the minute. It’s early days yet though.
Sake starts to work on the champ. He swings him around and plants him into the turnbuckle and begins a blatant chokehold. The referee is quick on the scene and intervenes instantly. Sake finally breaks the hold and then applies a series of hard chops to Sake’s chest to the enjoyment of the crowd. This is indicated by the repeated chants of ”WOOO!”
George Cassidy: I thought these fans were cheering Red Rock! These masochistic morons just love seeing people in pain, that’s all!
Truth Waters: Since when did you become so moral?
George Cassidy: The year was 1987 and it was a chilling night that woul-
Truth Waters: Forget it. Just watch the match Shakespeare.
Sake is about to drive a shoulder into Red Rock’s gut when the champion jumps out of the corner with a spear, flooring his opponent. Red Rock shouts to the crowd and receives a huge pop. Red Rock then climbs up on the second rope and drops a leg over Sake’s chest. Sake had tried to move out of the way but the Big Daddy wasn’t fast enough. Red Rock grabs a handful of Sake’s hair and hoists him to his feet. He then executes a sloppy yet effective roundhouse kick that catches Sake on the chin.
Truth Waters: That kick had some height on it.
George Cassidy: It would have to! Look at the size of that thing!
Truth Waters: Well, all the same, good athleticism by Red Rock, demonstrating exactly why he has the title.
Sake is on the mat now so Red Rock applies an armbar submission hold. Lars Larsson immediately asks Sake if he wants to tap but he shakes his head in determination. Red Rock leans forward to apply more pressure but Sake immediately punches him while the opportunity is there.
Truth Waters: Red didn’t see that coming! And now he’s released the hold!
Red rolls away from Sake and springs to his feet while Sake is getting up. However the more nimble champion dropkicks Sake in the knee and he falls back down. Red Rock then hits several swift falling elbows to keep the big man down.
Truth Waters: Good work by Red Rock, using his speed to his advantage.
George Cassidy: Now if Sake didn’t have mantits, he would have gotten up faster!
Red Rock pulls Sake to his feet. Sake tries to capitalise by swinging a clubbing forearm but Red Rock easily ducks it and counters with a sitdown neckbreaker. Sake bounces back up in a daze so Red throws him into the turnbuckle. Red Rock goes to the opposite corner, runs diagonally and connects with a big splash. Sake stumbles out of the corner so Red climbs the second rope as Sake turns back around; Red executes a perfect flying DDT, planting Sake head into the mat.
George Cassidy: Nice string of moves by Red is has to be said.
Truth Waters: Yes. Sake looks out for the count here.
Red Rock takes a second to pose to the crowd then makes the pin on the fallen Jonny Sake. The referee gets down quickly to make the count.
ONE!
TWO!
Kickout!
Red Rock seems a little annoyed at Sake’s resilience. However, he gets straight back to work and pulls Sake to his feet. However, Sake is immediately put back down with a double arm DDT.
George Cassidy: Sake falls onto his head… memories of a broken childhood, eh?
Truth Waters: That’s just… lovely George.
Red goes over to the ropes to take a breather for a few moments and then turns and stalks Sake. Sake gets to his feet with a little bit of trouble and Red runs at him with a spear. However, Sake catches his body as it zooms toward him and lifts him up and puts him down with a snap powerbomb.
Truth Waters: Very good counter there by Sake and once again he has the upper hand.
Sake goes down quickly and lies down Red Rock up for a pin.
ONE!
TWO!
THR-
Kickout!
Truth Waters: Half a count away from Sake being the new champion.
George Cassidy: Holy hell! Okay, I don’t like Red Rock but if Sake won the universe would surely implode! Hey wait that wouldn’t be so bad…
Sake begins to pound the mat in frustration, which results in a laugh from the crowd. This fires Sake up and he grabs Red Rock roughly around the waist and hoists him up. Sake throws the champ off the ropes and he runs towards the other. They meet again at the centre of the ring and Sake nails Red with a running DDT. Red Rock holds his head on the ground and shouts in agony. Sake is quick and lifts him up again and applies another devastating move: a belly-to-belly 90-degree overhead.
Truth Waters: Sake is really bringing out the big guns on Red now who is being completely dominated
Instead of attempting another pin, Sake lifts Red up once again and throws him into the turnbuckle. Sake takes to steps back, taunts the crowd by imitating a train engineer make a horn sound. He runs at Red who sidesteps him resulting in Sake bouncing off the turnbuckle. Red Rock runs at the ropes with the intention of clotheslining Sake but Sake ducks and clobbers the champion instead on the back of the head as he turns around.
Truth Waters: Sake’s superior strength and good ring awareness is stopping the Livewire Champion, Red Rock from getting anything from this match.
George Cassidy: Fine, fine. Hurry up and win Jonny then, I have a dentist appointment.
Sake waits for Red to get up then grabs him from behind, obviously to attempt a German suplex or some variation of it. However, Red Rock mule kicks Sake in the groin who falls to the mat in pain.
Truth Waters: The Big Daddy just became infertile!
George Cassidy: How come Larsson couldn’t see THAT!
A rejuvenated Red Rock now points to the turnbuckle. He jumps onto the top rope and leaps off with a cross body splash, which he nails. Red Rock pulls Sake to his feet and then eye racks him following up with a headbutt. Sake staggers back and Red Rock quickly pulls Sake down to the mat with a flying head scissors.
Truth Waters: Sake is really being schooled here.
George Cassidy: Ha! That’s a first for Jonny. That idiot signs all documents with an X. Remember kids, illiteracy equals homelessness.
As Sake slowly pulls himself to his feet once again, Red Rock connects with his set up move the Funstigator (a combination of nasty kicks starting at the legs grounding the opponent to the knees and ending with a punt to the side of the head).
George Cassidy: Damn, looks like Red Rock’s going to retain.
Truth Waters: Sure does, you know what comes next don’t you?
However, when Red Rock reaches down to pull Sake to his feet for his finisher, the RDT, Sake drills a stinging straight punch to Red Rocks nose and he falls back in pain. Sake struggles to his feet and out of desperation, nails a DDT, though his weak state makes the move only half as effective as it should be. Sake climbs on top for the pin.
ONE!
TWO!
Kickout!
Truth Waters: What resilience here from Sake. If nothing else, that has to be admired.
Sake is now obviously frustrated and he lazily slides out of the ring. Searching underneath he finds a steel chair then slides back into the ring just as Red Rock’s getting to his feet. Just as he’s about to connect with his head, the referee pulls the chair from Sake’s grasp. Sake turns around in a furious rage and begins to get in the Lars Larsson’s face.
Truth Waters: Sake obviously knew he couldn’t win this match fairly and was going to DQ himself. Good referring from Larsson there.
George Cassidy: Now look at Red Rock, he’s standing right behind Sake.
Instead of wait for Sake to turn around Red Rock kicks Sake in the groin once again as the refs turned around disposing of the chair. Red Rock then pushes Sake into the turnbuckle so his back is facing him and hits him with the RDT – a running spinning heel kick to the victim followed by a sleeper hold which gets turned in to an elevated DDT. Sake falls down hard on his head and Red quickly hooks the leg for the pin.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
George Cassidy: No way! How couldn’t the referee see that? That low blow was CHEATING!
Truth Waters: Ah sit down you big lug. Wow look at Jonny Sake. He’s not happy.
James Brunt: The winner, and STILL Livewire champion... RED ROCK!
The crowd pops hugely as Red Rock holds the title above his head proudly.
Red Rock rolls out of the ring before Sake can get up. Sake jumps to his feet, his face red in anger. However the mocking smile on Red Rocks face only annoys him more.
Truth Waters: Look at Sake huff!
George Cassidy: You would too if a damned clown cheated you out of a win! He lowblowed him I say!
Truth Waters: A successful first title defence for Red Rock, retaining after the RDT put Sake out of commission. We’ll see you in five days’ time when we’re going to Vegas… baby!
George Cassidy: Hate and Lavelle… Face-Eater and Shipley… it’s certainly got a lot going for it.
Truth Waters: That’s AWC Testimony, live on pay-per-view on Friday September 30th!
Smuggled In
FEATURING: PADDY O'SHEA, DAVID "PEARL" HARBER
AUTHOR: MICHAEL DOHERTY
The scene opens in the parking lot of the arena. There is an ambulance parked just beside the entrance. Sitting on the step of the opened backdoor is Paddy O’Shea whose nose is being treated by two medics. Suddenly, a door from the arena swings open and Pearl comes rushing out, carrying a brown parcel.
Pearl: I just heard Paddy! I’m not exactly sure how they did it Paddy but all I can say is sorry.
Paddy coughs a little blood and spits it on the tarmac. His face tells Pearl everything he needs to know. Paddy is angry and he can’t wait to Super Series. However Paddy says nothing.
Pearl: Okay, I know you can’t wait for Super Series, and I know that you’ll be fine for the pay-per-view, but I can’t book you against him. You’re fighting with Mickey, against T.T.S., and he’s fighting Pierce Lavelle.
Once again Paddy looks at Pearl’s face, never breaking contact. His nose is broken but it’s been broken before so nothing’s new. The real pain is the fact that he is constantly being outsmarted. If he wasn’t so trusting this would never have happened.
Pearl: However Paddy, I’ve come up with something that I’m sure will satisfy you at least until Super Series. It’s a way of getting you into the Testimony main event.
Pearl tosses the brown parcel into Paddy’s lap then begins to walk back towards the building. Paddy pulls the wrapping away to reveal… a referee shirt. And for the first time that day, Paddy smiles. Still walking towards the building, Pearl calls with a chuckle.
Pearl: I happen to think you’d make a great referee Paddy.