Fresh! Results26th July 2005
Introduction
FEATURING: MIGUEL "THE MIDGET" RODRIGUEZ AND DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!
AUTHOR: DAVE LARKIN
The screen goes to black then fizzles to life suddenly, the letters “AWC” flashing across in a brilliant white light. A moment of silence dominates, then, backed by “Way Away” by Yellowcard, images of AWC’s superstars appear, one after the other. The guitar plays softly first, then goes straight into a strong, powerful riff.
I think I’m breaking out
I’m gonna leave you now
There’s nothing for me here
It’s all the same
The new Transatlantic Champion Pierce Lavelle is shown collapsing into the arms of Senior Referee Michael Ryan as he is handed the title following the Inferno match at Solarized. A pulsating white light continually lights up the screen, as shots of many AWC superstars in action are shown: The Educator, Ellis Nash, Drake Coleman.
And even though I know
That everything might go
Go downhill from here
I’m not afraid
A quick collection of highlights from recent shows flash across the screen as the song moves into its chorus. Gabriel hitting Satan’s Wish on The Farmer a few weeks back; Krimzon jumping ladders and inadvertently crushing his partner The Educator between a ladder and a table, the table breaking, at Solarized; UWF North American champion James Varga emerging from the entrance-way two weeks ago on Fresh!.
Way away, away from here I’ll be
Away, away, away, so you can see
How it feels to be alone and not believe
Feels to be alone and not believe
Anything
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Welcome, one and all, to Fresh! We’re live tonight from Malaga in…
Miguel Rodriguez: In Spain, Dave! We’re in Spain. Good evening, ladies and gents. My name is Miguel “The Midget” Rodriguez and this is my partner, DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: POTATOES! GUINNESS! FIGHT FOR THE IRISH!
Miguel Rodriguez: As you can see, I’m in for a hard night. Rest assured, though, you’ll all hear plenty about my beeeg boy!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: He prides himself on his genitalia, you see. Well, for the next few weeks you’ll all have to listen to us commentate on all of AWC’s matches. Don’t worry - we’re a hell of a lot more entertaining than those West Atlantic suckers.
Miguel Rodriguez: Damn straight we are! They were just here to warm our seats, you see. AWC started off with the second rate announce team; now they’ve moved on to the main course. Us!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Obviously, our reputation precedes us. So watch and learn as DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~! and Miggy show you how it’s done!
Miguel Rodriguez: We’ll see action tonight, folks. That includes Pierce Lavelle and Ellis Nash fighting it out for the Transatlantic championship! Oooh, beeeeg boy!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: And the former Transatlantic champion Alexander Strider will be facing The Full House in a handicap match. There are some rumours going around, though, that The Full House won’t be able to make it tonight to the arena.
Miguel Rodriguez: Oh, what a pity. Oh well, easy win for Strider.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: POTATOES! Our first match is Bloodlines versus the monstrous Hate in a handicap match. Geez, somebody likes handicap matches. There’s two of them tonight. Conspiracy, anyone?
Miguel Rodriguez: It’s not a conspiracy, you clown.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: We’ll see about that one, Miggy.
Miguel Rodriguez: Quit calling me that. Call me Miguel.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Sorry, Miggy is now your nickname. It can’t change.
Miguel Rodriguez: (sighs) Okay, whatever. Let’s get down to the action!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: AC-DIDDLY-ACTION JACKSON~!
The Return of an Old Friend
FEATURING: JOSHUA CURTIS
AUTHOR: JOSHUA CURTIS
Immediately following the show’s open the camera pans around the crowd and looks at some of the signs that the fans had brought to the arena and the shirts that they are wearing when the song “Memories” by “Within Temptation” begins to play and out walks a person in a black cloak-like outfit with a hood and as gets to the top of the ramp he stops and smiles before turning around to apparently wait for someone…
As he turns around the song “Otome No Policy” from Sailor Moon begins to play and out walks a man that looks almost like the first but wearing a glittering suit jacket and the jacket looks to have gold sparkles on it to go with the contrasting black pants and the white shirt underneath. As the two walk down to the ring the crowd stands in applause as they start to realize who exactly the two men are making their way to the ring and it becomes more evident when the one man hands a rose to one lucky female fan while the other man gets the microphone from the ring announcer and makes his way into the ring closely followed by the other and as the music stops the first man begins to speak….
Man #1: Good Evening fans of the AWC. My name is “Dark Angel:rk Angel” and this man standing to my immediate right is named “Golden Boy”. We come as emissaries of someone that we know that you know quite well…
Golden Boy: The man is someone that we are grateful that he allowed us to “come out” and see you fans one more time. He is someone that unlike one tag team that you have in this company right now can be proud of that he is a part of your company as well as his boyfriend. God that man is soo nice that I kind of envy him!
Dark Angel: Shall we get to it Golden Boy?
Golden Boy: Let’s!
Dark Angel: Ladies and Gentlemen to be accompanied to the ring tonight by Zack Johnson ,Milliardo Peacecraft and Quatre Raberba Winner from the “Army of Old School” I proudly present to you fans Joshua Curtis!
Golden Boy: And his tag team partner to be accompanied by Lady Une ,Michiru Kaiou and Lucrezia Noin I proudly present to you Ami Mizuno and together they make the tag team BLOODLINES!
And with that the two “personas” of the one and only Joshua Curtis walk out of the ring as “Vitamin R” by Chevelle begins to play over the loud speaker and the eight individuals come down to the ring to a thunderous ovation from the crowd as Joshua comes out waving the flag from England and the crowd literally explodes from the sight of seeing the flag again. When the two make it down to the ring Joshua and Ami take their time to say “Hello” to all the fans again before entering the ring and getting the mike from Dark Angel and as the song ends Joshua smiles and just listens to the chants of “WELCOME BACK!” and “OLD SCHOOL!” ,which brings a tear to his eye but he quickly regains his composure and brings the mike to his lips to begin to speak…
Joshua L. Curtis: I don’t know what to say after hearing you fans give that thunderous reception. I guess the best I could say is thank you…
The crowd gives another quick pop before quieting back down so that Joshua can speak again.
Joshua L. Curtis: You know its been nuts for me in the past couple of months as I’ve bounced around feds and looked at how I’ve been treated by some of the people within those places and I have to say that when the one promotion known as NEON shut down we were devastated just like everyone else was to the point where ,truth be told, I have lost all focus for a time and I let owners bully me and push me around and I let people who were really in good with owners dictate how I could be happy and when I could be happy. I am so sick of that and now that’s why I’m glad that I’m back in AWC where at least the fans appreciate what is done by myself and my family ,”The Army of Old School”!
At the mention of the “Army” the crowd begins a chant in honor of the faction and beens that they are in Spain they do it in Spanish and Joshua hands the mike off to Ami during the chant and she begins to speak…
Ami Mizuno: (Laughing) You know if you keep this up we won’t be able to get to the rest of the show!
As Soon as Ami says that the crowd stops and Ami continues…
Ami Mizuno: Tonight is a special night for me and my brother Joshua. First off we get to compete in our first match together in a handicap match against “Hate” but we also have a special surprise for the fans later on in the night as it pertains to our friend Quatre.
Joshua L. Curtis: - But before we get there we got to deal with the here and now and that means a little bit of venting. You see fans of AWC I came from a fed where I was liked by a select group of people and the others really didn’t bother with me. They have a guy in that fed that has SUCH a big ego that you couldn’t be his friend for any reason! How the hell this one guy that I know from that fed is friends with him I have no clue! What did he have to pay that person to be his friend? I doubt I could have paid it that’s for sure!
Ami Mizuno: But the one guy that you know from there is a really nice guy right brother?
Joshua L. Curtis: - If you mean who I think you mean then yes he was a really nice guy.
Lady Une: Do you mean…
Joshua L. Curtis: - Yep I mean Ken Partridge Jr. but you can’t mention him without making mention of his girlfriend Gunner Addison!
The crowd in Spain gives a small reaction to the name of KPJ and that is when Quatre begins to speak…
Quatre Raberba Winner: Greetings friends my name is Quatre Raberba Winner and I am the man responsible for overseeing what goes on in the fed for the faction and that was my role when we had to go to that horrible place called “GW”.
The crowd boos at the mere mention of the Las Vegas-based federation and Quatre notices this and smiles warmly before speaking again…
Quatre Raberba Winner: Ah I see that I’m not alone in the way people view that fed and it hurts me that I had to watch my leader and one of my best friends outside of Trowa be thrown out of a fed for no reason! It hurts that I had to watch this and it hurts worse that a so-called friend of Joshua’s had to betray him! I know that this fed won’t betray him and I also know that Joshua has something to show you all later on down the line…Yes Master Joshua what seems to be on your mind?
Joshua L. Curtis: - Well first off I think the fans are sick of hearing us run our mouths and its time for us to take some action so Zack ,Quatre ,Lucrezia Noin would you do us the honor or standing at ringside for our first match while we take out Hate?
The trio nods and the rest of the gang heads back to the locker room awaiting Joshua and Ami’s triumphant return to the cheers of the crowd.
Silveira Meets FREDROCK~!
FEATURING: AMY SILVEIRA, HUGO SILVEIRA AND FREDROCK~!
AUTHOR: DAVID "DJ" HEDLEY
The scene opens in the fairly normal-looking dressing room of Amy Silveira. Silveira is the only person present in the room, which lacks many contents, with the only items present being a single bed, a metal double wardrobe, a few metal chairs and a mop in the corner. Silveira is lying on the bed, wearing a small blue top which exposes her belly button, and a fairly short white skirt. Her wrestling attire can be seen in the corner, folded over one of the chairs.
Amy is looking up at the ceiling thinking, with her hands behind her head. Suddenly a loud bang is heard on the door, and as it persists Amy begins to get up.
Amy Silveira:: Ok, ok.. Wait a minute..
Suddenly the door bursts open after the person finds the doorhandle, and after a few seconds FREDROCK~! walks through it.
Amy Silveira:: Uh..
Amy looks FREDROCK~! up and down, confused as to what he wants and probably what he is. FREDROCK~! does the same to her, looking frustrated.
FREDROCK~!:: Have you seen my MOP~!?
Amy scratches her head.
Amy Silveira:: Er..
Amy looks around, spotting a mop in the corner behind the chair with her wrestling attire on. She points at it.
Amy Silveira:: Is that it?
FREDROCK~! looks, and upon spotting the MOP~!, creates a big smile across his face. His eyes light up, and he runs across the room toward MOP~!.. Only to fall over the chair in front of it. Amy smiles a little, looking down, and walking over to FREDROCK~!
Amy Silveira:: Er.. Are you ok?
FREDROCK~!:: Yes, but where's my MOP~!?
FREDROCK~! points at the mop.
Amy Silveira:: Er, its right in front of you.
FREDROCK~! looks, and tries to get up quickly. After a few moments he looks back to and up at the standing Silveira, who watches him with amusement.
FREDROCK~!:: I've fallen, and I can't get up.
Amy helps FREDROCK~! up with both hands, and after noticing that she's holding him, FREDROCK~! squeezes her closer and manages to wrestle her back on to the bed, nestling his head in her exposed chest.
Amy Silveira:: ..Ahh!
FREDROCK~! continues to wrestle with Amy and her chest area, for no apparent reason but to feel her. Hugo Silveira suddenly appears at the door, and upon seeing the bald creature on top of her, runs in and lifts him off her, quickly carrying him out of the room, throwing him down into the corridor, and shutting the down. He turns back to his daughter.
Hugo Silveira: Are you ok?
Amy looks up, smiling at him, and looking back the doorway which FREDROCK~! is standing in again, only this time with no arms. Hugo looks back, about to go for him.
FREDROCK~!:: Can I have my MOP~!?
Hugo looks confused, glancing at his daughter, who points to the mop in the corner. Hugo moves over to the MOP~!, throwing it at FREDROCK~!, hitting him in the head, and knocking him and MOP~! out of the room. He then looks at his daughter confused.
Hugo Silveira: Who.. what the hell is that?
Amy shrugs her shoulders, sitting up on the bed and brushing herself down.
The Agitator
FEATURING: HATE, MINIONS
AUTHOR: JAAKKO OKSA
The scene begins backstage in the Martin Carpena arena. At first, nothing can be seen, and then suddenly a group of black-clad men, who can be instantly identified as the minions that have tormented Paddy O’Shea and his relatives in the past weeks. Behind them marches Hate, with his trenchcoat open and the black gas mask covering his face. Hate walks behind the group of minions, but then stops as he passes the camera and turns around. Hate grabs the lens with his hand and points the camera straight at his mask. When Hate speaks, his voice is cold and emotionless, but nervertheless holding back great rage. His features cannot be detected through the mask, but his eyes shine through from the holes in the mask like fires of Hell.
Hate: Paddy O’Shea… Last week, your father’s life hung in my hand. And as long as I’m alive, I can do it again, and again, and again… I can keep this up forever. But you can’t. O’Shea, if you don’t wish for the happenings of last weeks to repeat, you WILL come to the ring tonight. I will be waiting for you after my match.
Hate makes a simple gesture where he touches his forehead with his index and middle finger and then presses the fingers against the camera lens before uttering two phrases, chilling in their effect.
Hate: Cleanse the impure. Raise the warcry.
Hate pushes the camera off of himself and then walks down the corridor, to a hallway that’s labeled ”To the arena.” As Hate steps into the hallway, Agoraphobic Nosebleed’s ”North American Corpse Desecration” can be heard playing on the background and a thunderous booing from the crowd trying to drown it out.
Bloodlines vs Hate
STIPULATION: 2 ON 1 HANDICAP
REFEREE: LARS LARSSON
AUTHOR: DAVE LARKIN
Miguel Rodriguez: We’re kicking off Fresh! tonight with a handicap match, my partner in crime! How does it feel to be announcing your very first match in AWC with me, Miguel “The Midget” Rodriguez?
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Pretty… damn good. POTATOES!
Miguel Rodriguez: Okay, just so you know. During the match, if you start to say potatoes or Guinness or anything like that, I’ll break your face off. Got it?
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: I suppose so, yeah. I can’t help it, though. It’s like… an obsession.
Miguel Rodriguez: Just follow my lead, DOOOOBLIN DAVE~!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: I’ll try… (under his breath) midget.
Miguel Rodriguez: (sternly) I heard that, you know!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Then hear this!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~! releases a horrible, drawn-out fart from his butt, causing “The Midget” to fall off his seat in disgust. The fart makes a wet, droning sound as DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~! smiles proudly.
Miguel Rodriguez: A little help, please?
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~! helps “The Midget” back into his seat kindly, but shoots a sly grin at him as he does so. Miguel “The Midget” Rodriguez removes his jacket and rubs his hands together, ready to go.
Miguel Rodriguez: You ready to upstage those West Atlantic twerps?
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: POTATOES! GUINNESS! DRINK, DRINK, DRINK!
Miguel Rodriguez: That’s great, big guy. Let’s get down to the action, shall we?
Hans Heinemann, quite possibly the moodiest ring announcer in the wrestling world today, does his best to make a good first impression by smiling awkwardly at the fans in attendance. Some of the fans mock Heinemann’s foolish attempt, and begin to chant something in Spanish. Heinemann, although German, understands it, and begins to shout and stomp the mat in anger. After his tantrum is over, Heinemann takes his microphone and gets down to it.
Hans Heinemann: The following contest is a 2-on-1 handicap match and it is scheduled for one fall!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Hear that? It’s only one fall this time.
Miguel Rodriguez: Umm, it’s always one fall. That’s in the rules of wrestling. The only exception would be in two out of three falls matches.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Whoa, slow down a bit. There’s only one fall?!
Miguel Rodriguez: Oh boy, it’s gonna be a long night…
Without any warning, Agoraphobic Nosebleed's "North American Corpse Desecration" begins to grind away at the speakers, filling the audio system with utter aural chaos. Hate appears in the entranceway, with a black gas mask covering his head and wearing a long, black trenchcoat. As he walks to the ringside, Hate shouts verbal abuse at the fans through his mask before removing it at the ringside, revealing his painted head. Hate slides into the ring and takes off his trenchcoat before putting both the coat and the mask away, utterly concentrated on the match ahead.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Hate looks freaky in person.
Miguel Rodriguez: A formidable opponent for anyone, no doubt about it. Hate is out to prove a point tonight against the new duo of Bloodlines. He certainly made quite an impression last week. In summary, he -
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Allow me. Last week on Fresh!, Hate revealed himself to be the one who had been tormenting Paddy O’Shea for weeks on end about his father. Hate captured O’Shea’s daddy and O’Shea will be out for revenge tonight!
Hans Heinemann: In the ring, from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, weighing in at 225 pounds… HATE!
Miguel Rodriguez: And here comes the new duo, Bloodlines, making their debut tonight on Fresh!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Joshua Curtis and Ami Mizuono make up Bloodlines. One’s from London; the other’s from Tokyo. How cool is that?
“Vitamin R” by Chevelle begins to play on the P.A. system, and Bloodlines emerge from behind the curtain together. The new team is hyped up to be facing a high profile opponent such as Hate. Curtis and Ami make their way down to the ring, greeting the Spanish fans on the way. At last they reach the ring, where the dominating figure of Hate awaits. Bloodlines enter the ring together, and Lars Larsson stands between Hate and Bloodlines to prevent any pre-match aggression.
Hans Heinemann: And his opponents, from London, England, and Tokyo, Japan, respectively, the team of Joshua Curtis and Ami Mizuno… BLOODLINES!
Mizuno and Curtis appear to be mentally prepared to face the behemoth that is Hate. Hate stares at the duo with rage in his eyes. Mizuno volunteers to begin in the ring against Hate, but Curtis persuades her to let him enter the ring. Mizuno reluctantly agrees, offering some advice to her brother as the bell rings. Curtis and Hate square up to each other in the ring, neither showing any signs of backing down.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: It’s a stand off between Curtis and Hate! Which one will crack first?
Miguel Rodriguez: Oh, don’t be so dramatic.
Curtis tries a right hand, but Hate catches it and head butts Curtis. Curtis falls to one knee, and Hate delivers another massive skull-crushing head butt to the London native. Hate takes Curtis up and whips him against the ropes, catching him on the rebound with a side slam. Hate makes a lazy cover on Curtis as Mizuno shouts at Curtis to kick out.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: You know, Hate could win right here and now.
ONE!
TWO!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Two more counts left…
Miguel Rodriguez: No, there’s one left! One!
Curtis kicks out before the three count, but a sick smile from Hate to Mizuno says it all: Hate is in full control already. Curtis fights back against Hate with some jabs to the face, though, and manages to take the big man down with a drop toehold. Curtis drops an elbow onto Hate’s back, but a second elbow drop attempt is thwarted by Hate, who rolls out of the way. Hate gets back to his feet instantly and floors Curtis with a big boot. The crowd are sympathetic to Curtis’ predicament.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: These fans are feeling Curtis’ pain. How will he escape this? How?!
Miguel Rodriguez: Calm down, you crazy Irishman! He’ll be fine. Remember, pain is temporary.
Hate wrestles Curtis back up to his feet, but a lightning quick kick to the head from Curtis takes Hate down to his knees and allows Curtis to make the tag at last to his sister, Ami Mizuno. Mizuno enters the ring cautiously, circling Hate as he stands up. Mizuno positions herself behind Hate and delivers a few hard kicks to the back of Hate’s knees. Hate goes down, and this gives Mizuno the opportunity to hit an impressive standing dropkick on Hate. Mizuno doesn’t make the cover, however. Instead, she goes for the high risk.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Mizuno’s gonna risk it all here to try and put Hate down for the three count! But does she really think she can do that? We’re dealing with a man who wears a mask and can capture people’s parents here!
Miguel Rodriguez: I doubt she’s considering that, man. She probably just wants to show off her aerial ability and at the same time beat Hate! To me, that’s a plan that could work.
Mizuno prepares herself on the top rope. When her opening arrives, she dives off for a cross body on Hate, but the monstrous Hate catches her in mid-air. In one powerful move, Hate choke slams Mizuno to the mat. Hate places his arm over Mizuno for the cover.
ONE!
TWO!
Curtis breaks up the count before the three, eliciting a massive pop from the crowd. Hate turns to Curtis with fury in his eyes as Curtis returns to the apron. Mizuno is flat out on the canvas and unlikely to get up anytime soon. Hate takes Curtis by the neck and flings him over the top rope inside the ring like a rag doll.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: You can feel his pain, can’t you? But at the same time, he’s a Londoner, and somebody told me once that Londoners don’t feel pain.
Miguel Rodriguez: Where in the blue hell did you hear that piece of garbage?
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: People told me… you know, people.
Miguel Rodriguez: You just get weirder by the minute.
Hate whips Curtis off the ropes and delivers a huge clothesline known as Hatebred to him, almost taking his head off his shoulders. Curtis is down and out, and despite the fans’ encouragement, it doesn’t look good for Bloodlines. Hate lifts Mizuno to her feet now and sets her up for The Abomination Hold. Hate teases it for a moment, then locks it in with great effect.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: The Abomination Hold has been locked in! All Curtis can do is look on at his sister being broken in half by this malicious so-and-so!
Miguel Rodriguez: This could very well be the end of the line for Bloodlines!
Mizuno’s limp body can no longer handle the hold, and referee Lars Larsson lifts her arm up once. It falls. Curtis is beginning to show some signs of life. Hate grins devilishly as Larsson lifts it a second time. It falls. Curtis bounds up in a burst of energy and dives on Hate, ripping him off Mizuno before her hand falls for a third time. Curtis drills Hate with a reverse DDT and covers the giant.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: What a revival by Curtis!
Miguel Rodriguez: Could he have Hate here?
ONE!
TWO!
Hate manages to kick out before the three count, and with authority. Hate sits up, and then gets back to his feet just as Mizuno begins to regain her bearings. Mizuno attacks Hate with a right hand, but Hate counters with a head butt, sending Mizuno down to the mat. Hate kicks her out of the ring as Curtis blindsides Hate with a corkscrew moonsault from the second rope. The crowd explode into ecstasy as Curtis once again covers Hate.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: C-c-c-c-orkscrew moonsault!!!
Miguel Rodriguez: You damn right! Let’s see if this is it!
ONE!
TWO!
TH-
Hate barely kicks out before the three count, and the fans in the arena are shocked that he got a shoulder up. Curtis, too, cannot believe it. Curtis tries to bring Hate back up to a vertical base, at a loss for what to do next. Curtis looks around for his sister and tag team partner, but she is nowhere to be seen. Hate seizes this opportunity and kicks Curtis in the stomach.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Hate’s got it primed and ready! POTATOES!
Miguel Rodriguez: It looks like it’s time for the fearsome Eleventh Commandment!
Hate delivers his finishing move, the Eleventh Commandment, to Curtis, and the London native is left motionless in the middle of the ring. Hate makes a cover and Larsson goes down for the count.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Hate wins! Hate wins! Hate wins!
Miguel Rodriguez: Okay, okay, I get it. Yes, Hate has beaten the team of Joshua Curtis and Ami Mizuno here tonight. Who knows what kind of diabolical things Hate has planned for the future?
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Well, he made short work of Bloodlines tonight, that’s for sure!
Miguel Rodriguez: Bloodlines gave it their all, but that was a difficult match to begin their AWC career. They’ll have fewer monsters to deal with in the future, I’m sure.
Hate puts his mask back on his sweat-covered face, surveying the damage he has done both inside and outside the ring. Hate nods and makes his way to the back, seemingly pleased with the victory.
Hans Heinemann: Here is your winner… HATE!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: A victory for the monster.
Miguel Rodriguez: And a convincing one at that. Now, onto the next match. You’re not going to annoy me again, are you?
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: I’ll do my best, Miggy.
Miguel Rodriguez: M-Miggy?! Ah, forget it.
Strength Of One Can't Compare To Strength Of Ten
FEATURING: HATE, MINIONS, AZAGTOTH, PADDY O'SHEA
AUTHOR: JAAKKO OKSA
Just after the bell has rung, Hate walks to the center of the ring and raises his arm in the air, with the hand crooked into a wicked claw. The crowd responds to his taunt with boos, but Hate doesn’t seem to mind. As if on cue, four black-clad minions appear in the entranceway and quickly make their way to the ringside, scaring some of the first row Spanish fans with their mannerisms. As they reach the ringside, two of the minions slide into the ring while two of them stay outside, watching out for trouble.
Hans Heinemann: After that lackluster piece-of-crap show of ”wrestling” we just witnessed, we still have to witness more of this theater? At least it’s not those God-awful American cookie-cut goodie boys that do the talking.
Miguel Rodriguez: If you weell just shut the heell up, Heinemann, so it’s just Hate we have to heer bitch.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: What the Midget says, GOES! Let’s hear what Hate has to say!
One of the minions on the outside pushes a mic into the ring, and a skinny minion picks it up. He then turns to Hate and kneels down, bowing his head as he presents the mic to Hate with both hands, palms outstretched. Hate grabs the mic as the crowd boos loudly, but he seems unfazed and begins to speak in a harsh tone.
Hate: I did not come out here to entertain you godly pagans. I did not come out here to earn money for myself. And I did not come out here for sports and games. I came out here because I wanted to show you and I wanted to show the high offices of AWC what kind of a man I am. I am a MONSTER. You put a big man in front of me and I beat him down. You give me two men at a time and I beat them both down like nothing. Why am I being fed such worthless sacks of flesh? Do you wish to test the machine that is the Fifth Horseman and see more of your kin ground into the gears of the Juggernaut of hellish proportions before you realise what sort of a thing you are dealing with?
The crowd soaks Hate in jeers, but they sound a bit taken aback with Hate’s boasting as it hasn’t been in his nature to do such things before. Hate seems completely uninterested at the reactions he’s getting, but he glances over his shoulder at some of the more voiceful Spanish fans.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Oh, great, POTATOES! It’s an ego trip!
Hans Heinemann: Dave, you simpleminded fool, he has the right to boast. Even if they’re crap quality-wise, it takes something to win a handicap match.
Miquel Rodriguez: I gots something right heer in my pants.
Hans Heinemann: It hasn’t been even 20 minutes and already I hate our little ensemble more than anything else in the world.
Hate: There is one man here who has felt the Nondivine Juggernaut worse than anyone else. I am talking of that lower-class mammal, Paddy O’Shea, and his equally genetically degenerated bunch of friends and family. I was THIS close to annihlating the creature he calls his father for a lack of a better word. If I had been given the chance, I would have dropped him. Dropped him like nothing.
The crowd boos Hate more enthusiastically this time, clearly not favoring his words. Several ”PADDY!” chants break out in the crowd, which causes Hate to twist his face into a snarl and spit on the ring canvas before continuing.
Hate: I must be unfortunate, for I do not see these things the way you see them. You see the Antichrist himself, rising up from the depths of Hell to punish an innocent victim and tormenting him with sick mind games. I must be twisted and an outcast, for I do not see it that way. For all the blabbing you do about fair play and sportsmanship and wrestling being a legitimate sport, you sure take badly to my acts. What I am doing is simple competition. I am eliminating the weak in a manner fit for those cockroaches. You see it as evil. I see it as pure, elegant genius.
The crowd really starts laying into Hate verbally, who just lets his arm drop to his side. Hate then turns to the entranceway, as if expecting for something… Or someone.
And soon enough, Paddy O’Shea walks through the curtain, steaming with rage. O’Shea paces back and forth in the entrance aisle as the crowd gives him full support, and Hate’s minions on the floor seem a bit overwhelmed by the reception O’Shea is getting. Hate, however, doesn’t seem disappointed, and instead raises the mic back to his mouth.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: BY GUINNESS! GOD! PADDY O’SHEA! MY FELLOW! MY MATE!
Miguel Rodriguez: Now O’Shea is gonna give Heet what he gots coming for ’imself!
Hate: Ah, Paddy. So nice that you got my message. I am pleased to see that you decided to take the time and come down here to slight the ”wrongs” I have done to you. I want nothing more than settle things with you. FIRST, however…
Hate points at his minions one at a time, who crack their knuckles and stretch their necks on cue, trying to intimidate O’Shea.
Hate: You have to make it to the ring to strike me down. Are you man enough to do it, Paddy? Your father sure wasn’t.
Hate hasn’t even let go of the mic before Paddy O’Shea rushes to the ringside and runs head-on into the two minions standing on the floor. A brawl ensues as the crowd gets up to chant Paddy’s name and shout encouragement for him as he fights with the two larger men. A huge right hand from O’Shea knocks one of the minions silly, and he starts working on the next one in a quick fashion. As the third big minion rolls out of the ring to confront O’Shea, leaving Hate and the thin minion in the ring looking on at the fight, O’Shea disposes of his second opponent with the Feck It on the floor before lunging and spearing the third minion down, punching him wildly in the head.
Miquel Rodriguez: Hate could have booght ’imself some minjoons who got some BAAALLS, essa.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: It’s total ownage at the ringside, like me at CS Source! FIGHTING IRISH! POTATOES!
Paddy O’Shea finally lets the third minion fall on the floor, lifeless, and immediately slides into the ring. The one remaining minion tries to interject, but O’Shea shoves him aside and rushes at Hate, who merely stands there, arms folded across his chest. O’Shea rains a few punches to the screaming red head of Hate, who seems to be slightly irritated but otherwise OK. O’Shea doubles the intensity of his punches, but not for long as the thin minion stands up and pulls out a tire iron hidden in his sleeve. The minion cracks it against the back of O’Shea’s head and the Fighting Irishman drops like a sack of potatoes. The minion pulls off his mask, revealing long, black hair and a face that has been painted completely white like a corpse.
Miguel Rodriguez: ISSA TRAP! ISSA TRAP!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: HELL’S BELLS!
Hans Heinemann: Honestly, you DIDN’T see this coming a mile away? You American fools.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Actually, I’m Irish.
Miguel Rodriguez: I come from Mexico.
Hans Heinemann: … I hate you.
In the ring, the thin man known as Azagtoth steps on Paddy O’Shea’s back and slips the tire iron under O’Shea’s throat, choking him in a Camel Clutch-type hold. Hate looks on, licking the busted lip O’Shea gave him, before he barks an order and Azagtoth immediately pulls O’Shea’s head back. Hate then gives O’Shea a solid kick to the face with his combat boots, drawing blood as O’Shea suffers a busted eyebrow. Azagtoth lets O’Shea fall on his back, where he lays, holding his face in pain.
Miguel Rodriguez: Ay ay! This is not a wreestling match, this is a gaang beeting!
Hans Heinemann:… BEETING?
Miguel Rodriguez: AY CARAMBA A GANG BEETING!
Hans Heinemann: Forget I even asked.
Hate looks on as Azagtoth turns O’Shea around and stands on his back, licking his lips in glee. O’Shea tries to stand up, but Hate almost casually gives him another kick to the head to keep him down. As O’Shea collapses, Azagtoth kneels down and pulls out a wicked-looking knife, causing a sharp gasp to go through the crowd.
Miguel Rodriguez: OH NO HEE DOON’T!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: My God it’s like a Belfast GUINNESS mugging!
Azagtoth kneels down and with a few expert cuts, a crimson letter appears above the shoulderblades of Paddy O’Shea. O’Shea yells out in pain, but Hate muffles him by stomping the back of his head. As Azagtoth does the next letter, several people burst through the curtains, spearheaded by the massive Bruno Hague. The fans scream for the security team to save O’Shea, and they do so, running towards the ring. Azagtoth quickly carves the last letter on the flesh of Paddy O’Shea and then Hate grabs him by the hair, pulling his minion through the ropes and to the floor. As Hague and the security team hit the ring, Hate and Azagtoth quickly jump the rail and make their escape through the crowd, throwing some audience members out of their way to get away. The other minions either run away as well or remain on the ground, getting a few kicks from the security guys to make sure that they stay down. The camera gets into the ring a few seconds before the medical crew, and gives a nice zoom of theback of Paddy O’Shea as he lies on the mat, shaking in pain. The letters ”D-I-E” are sliced onto O’Shea’s back, bleeding crimson as the medical team runs in and covers his wounds.
Miguel Rodriguez: That is seeck and depraved. SEECK AND DEPRAVED!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: O’Shea has been BUSTED WIDE OPEN! IN THE BACK! BACK BUSTED OPEN!
Hans Heinemann: Brutal and effective from that attrocious wrestler Hate. Can’t love his technique but I can love his techniques, if you catch my meaning.
The show cuts on a brief commercial as the staff helps Paddy O’Shea to the entranceway, into the waiting arms of his father and The Farmer.
Remorseful
FEATURING: PIERCE LAVELLE, ALEXANDER STRIDER AND SARAH KENNEDY
AUTHOR: LARA CLARKE
Pierce Lavelle is seated in a slumped position, on a blue fold out chair. His hair a little ruffled compared to its usual gelled perfection. His eyes slightly red and his fists clenched. His body movement shows no signs of discomfort or angst. On his left lap lies his Transatlantic Championship.
Pierce Lavelle: Why did I do that?
Pierce mumbles to himself, staring at a small video cassette on the edge of a small table. Shipley’s duffle bag and gear remains on a separate side to the locker room, but Tim Shipley is nowhere to be seen. Pierce stands up quickly, hoists his title onto his shoulders and opens the door, into the brightly lit halls.
Keeping up a quick pace, Pierce dashes by many a fellow wrestler, ignoring their presence. His mind draws a blank. Sarah Kennedy is seated with a group of backstage workers, sipping some coffee. Pierce turns the corner, and immediately, she’s up.
Sarah Kennedy: Pierce?
Pierce stops, dead in his tracks, a look of concern flows over Sarah Kennedy’s face.
Pierce Lavelle: I - em - er - I am looking for Alex Strider’s dressing room. You know where it is?
Sarah Kennedy has a look of disappointment on her face as she points down the hall.
Sarah Kennedy: Third room on the left.
Sarah answers, her tone, dull and depressing. Fans can be heard cheering around the arena, but Pierce does not acknowledge them.
Pierce Lavelle: Thanks, Sarah!
Pierce says and quickly makes his way down the hall and takes the third door on the left. In bold writing in the centre of the door, he reads aloud: “ALEXANDER STRIDER”. Pierce knocks four times before there’s an answer. Strider swings the door open, dressed in a black shirt and trousers, a gold Rolex reflecting the lights above.
Alex Strider: What? Can’t you see I’m -
Alex stares at Pierce Lavelle. Realising that he was the one banging on his door.
Alex Strider: What is exactly that you want? It better be good.
Pierce straightens his posture and looks around at all of the backstage staff, now focused on the two arch rivals.
Pierce Lavelle: I - em - well…this isn’t easy to say, so I’m just going to spill it and leave. Alex smirks and leans against the doorframe.
Pierce Lavelle: Two weeks ago, during our little confrontation in the backstage area, I said something’s that well, shouldn’t have been said. I never meant to say those things, but I did say them and I am deeply sorry. I shouldn’t have brought up that case of yours or your personal life. That was a major flaw on my part…
Alex straightens up and tries to speak, but Pierce cuts him off.
Pierce Lavelle: I let the strain in my own personal life, influence my anger and hatred toward you and I shouldn’t have done that. It was completely unprofessional of me and completely disrespectful to those related to the -
Alex Striders: You can’t say it, can you? Pierce Lavelle stuck for words. You thought by coming down here and apologizing I would just forget everything you said, guess again, chump!
Strider pokes Lavelle’s championship belt and moves forward into the hall, backing Pierce into a wall.
Pierce Lavelle: At least I am apologizing for something’s that shouldn’t have been said. I think you should do the…
Alex Strider: How very noble of you, Pierce. But, quite frankly, what was said was said and I couldn’t give a damn about your little tag-partner. I don’t really care about your apology Pierce. You’re just a stupid kid, who flew to the top big time and let all the power and glory take over your little morsel for a head, and now that you are seated on the ground, you realise that you messed-up and have reverted back to the plain, simple, so called kind person you once were.
Pierce Lavelle pushes Strider off him, roughly. Strider wobbles backwards a little but regains his balance, he begins to laugh.
Pierce Lavelle: Suit yourself Strider! I don’t care anymore.
Pierce looks around at all of the viewers, just waiting for the two arch enemies to battle it out. Referee’s and ring officials have already gathered around.
Pierce Lavelle: You don’t need to be here! I’m finished with everything I needed to do here.
Pierce Lavelle looks at Strider and begins to walk up to him.
Pierce Lavelle: I said my apology, whether you accept it or not, that’s your choice to make.
Strider shoves Lavelle out of his way and makes his way back to his locker room, shutting the door behind him. Pierce looks on and shrugs. The surrounding backstage staff act as though they heard nothing and continue on with their work. Sarah Kennedy looks on and smiles, Pierce passes her by and waves his hand, before disappearing around the corner. The camera fades to black.
Alexander Strider vs The Terrific Two
STIPULATION: 2 ON 1 HANDICAP
REFEREE: JOSEPH REID
AUTHOR: ERIC HALLORAN JR.
“Will You Smile Again For Me?” by ...And You Will Know Us By The Trail of Dead plays. The arena lights dim, and the crowd begins to stir. Bright red lights circle around, ultimately highlighting the dark entrance to the ring.
A silhouette appears in the entrance to the ring. As white and yellow pyro rains down around him, Alex Strider stands still, head down to the world. As the pyro ends, we see Alex is dressed for ring action.
He walks down to the ring with a different air, as he occasionally peers out at the audience with a genuine smile. He looks odd, still with a white bandage covering the bridge of his nose. As he enters the ring, Strider raises one hand in the air, waving to the audience, who do not buy his unassuming friendly nature, as it just seems unnatural coming from him.
Alex Strider: “Hola”, Malaga, Spain! It is my pleasure to be here. It is my serious, serious pleasure to be here to celebrate my craft and perform for you tonight.
The audience continues to jeer at the former Transatlantic champion.
Alex Strider: That is fine. I wouldn’t expect you to believe me. But it’s true. Even though I’m here in Malaga, and I can’t safely drink water from the tap without fear of infecting my bowels with mutant bacteria, I am happy. Despite that I am wrestling here in the Atlantic Wrestling Club while my personal life crumbles into dust back in America, I could not be happier. No, it’s true!
”The Midget” I’ve been watcheeng heem for a while, now. I don’t buy eet.
”DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!”: Yeah, I can’t imagine he’s a happy man. He needs therapy.
Alex Strider: Just because I lost to Ellis Nash two weeks ago doesn’t mean my life is over! I am not going to fall down into this world of depression that you’ve seen others fall into. Yes, I’m referring to Tim Shipley and his partner, Pierce Lavelle. Sure, losing your loved one “tag partner” or not having the love of your father or whatever is bugging Pierce is a big deal. But while THEY are not strong enough to deal with their own demons in private, you won’t see that happen to me. While THEY pull their demons out of their pocket like this was a damn freak show, I’ll gladly keep my business my own, and put on this happy face for you, the paying audience.
Alex Strider smiles, twisted and angry.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Ugh... what a horrible smile.
Alex Strider: Because that is what you’ve come here to see. Not some after-school special on “The Dangers of Drugs”. Or “Don’t Have Sex With People You Work With”, which is, I think the lesson we’re supposed to be learning from Pierce and Tim, but you can never tell with those two. I know, I know. Are they “on again,” off again, just get married you two kids! It’s legal here now!
”The Midget”: Is he sayeeng what I’m theenk he say?
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: He's saying two guys can get married in Spain! POTATOES!
”The Midget”: But… does that mean that they are?
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Hope not...
Alex Strider: You know, everyone thought that my career here in AWC would just be over since I’ve gone on what can only be called my first REAL losing streak. That I would curl up and die. That I can only go on tormenting innocent bystanders like Crimson O’Malec for so long before I get bored with it and realize… that the problem I have is not with him. Well, you were right on one count. The problem I have is NOT with Crimson O’Malec, so I am going to take this opportunity, to apologize to my short Irish co-worker. This might not mean much to you, shorty, but I’m sorry I have been messing with you. It was wrong of me. Sincere apologies.
”The Midget”: That’s nice of heem.
Alex Strider: And now that I’ve gotten that out of the way… I am NOW going to start the NEW Era, a NEW start, a more energetic me. We have a special promotional match with two of Spain’s finest Lucha-styled wrestlers tonight. I am going to be wrestling in a handicap match and I thank you all for your support in these troubling times.
“Really Hard Rocking Spanish Music” plays in the arena, which the crowd eats up. Hans Heinemann tries to enter the ring, but Alex waves him off.
Alex Strider: Don’t worry James, I got this one covered, Kay, babe? Hailing from RIGHT HERE, in SOME TOWN IN SPAIN, weighing in at ALMOST… ONE HUNDRED, TWENTY POUNDS… They are the biggest thing to hit the wrestling scene since Pierce Lavelle’s Teenage Angst…Please give a warm, Malaga welcome for…THE TERRIFIC TWO!
Alex points toward the ring entrance. A moment later, two midgets wearing mucha-lucha masks step out, appearing ready for action.
”The Midget” Oh…this can’t be good.
”DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!”: Maybe it will be good.
Alex Strider steps out of the ring and rings the bell himself. Kicking the bellkeeper aside, he grabs the steel chair and slides it into the ring with him. The two TERRIFIC TWO stand in the middle of the ring, staring out into the audience in awe. They both turn to each other, discussing who would wrestle Strider first. Alex doesn’t give either of them a chance as he rushes them from the side, swinging the steel chair down across the skull of both men.
”The Midget” Oh Nooo! Bad!
”DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!”Bad, indeed. This is wrong.
Both midgets are laid out in the ring from the one strike, but Strider doesn’t stop there. He keeps slamming the metal chair across his fallen foes, leaving stains of blood across the mat. Strider lifts one midget in the air, and back body drops it across the other motionless midget. Strider then covers the midgets.
”The Midget” There ees the coveer.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Strider counts with his free hand. Standing up, he raises both hands in sweet victory. Running to the outside of the ring, he rings the bell again. Then, he points at James Brunt with an icy stare.
Hans Heinemann: Uh… and the winner, by uh, pinfall… “THE MONGOOSE” ALEX STRIIIDER!
Alex waves to the crowd, and slowly makes his exit.
”The Midget” Can wee geet and amabulance for those two? I think I might be related, and I don’t want to help pay for their funerals.
His Swerviness Speaks
FEATURING: MIKE WADE
AUTHOR: MIKE WADE
“Jump Around” by House of Pain hits and a sour mood swims over the crowd as the anticipate the arrival of Mike Wade.
Miguel Rodriguez:: What the hell is this?
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!:: Why it’s Mike Wade! What a rush!
Miguel Rodriguez:: He’s not scheduled for now….He’s not scheduled for tonight at all!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!:: All the better then.
The figure of Mike Wade appears, stepping through the curtain and entering the arena to a sea of boos from the crowd. Mike, as always, is accompanied by his ever present midget manager, Mickey Moore. Miguel Rodriguez:: Jeez Wade has only been here like 3 weeks and already these fans are all over him.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!:: Typical Miggy, just typical of these people. They finally have someone they can get behind and support and look up to and this is what he gets.
Miguel Rodriguez:: Are you talking about the same guy here?
Wade is now making his way up the aisle and posing and taunting young fans on the way to the ring. Finally Mike steps into the ring with Mickey and is tossed a mic. Miguel Rodriguez:: OK let’s see what he has to say.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!:: Shhhh!! GUINNESS!
Mike Wade: Gre…….One sec.
Mike pauses and reaches into his pocket. He then pulls out a surgical glove and places it over his finger. He then proceeds to rub his index finger along the canvas of the ring and brings it up to his face to inspect it. He grimaces and tosses the glove away as the crowd get very hot and on his case.
Mike Wade: Just as I suspected. Even the rings in Spain are f**king dirtholes!!
The crowd almost explode with anger at Wade for this comment as he simply laughs it off.
Mike Wade: Now for those of you who don’t know me, you’re stupid. I’m Mike Wade. “His Swerviness” the master of everything that is good in the world. I am the greatest specimen and performer you will ever witness in your lives. You of course are nothing but worthless, sweaty spicks and don’t even deserve to be graced with my presence. But I thought I’d come out here anyway, just to show you what a gringo that’s not a tourist looks like. Now being that this is a wrestling federation and this is a wrestling show you will hear a lot of guys come out here and talk tough and act tough. Hell you’ll even see some guys BEING tough. But I’m not out here to claim any of these things, not out here to challenge anybody. I’m not really even out here to abuse you people, that’s just a given you’re even embarrassing yourselves just sitting there!
Suffice it to say Mike isn’t winning the popularity contest and some Spanish profanity chants fill the arena.
Mike Wade: No I’m not talking tough ,acting tough or picking on some, I’m just PISSED OFF. You see I came here to AWC, I graced this federation with my God-like presence in the thought that here I would be given opportunities. Maybe treated like the star that I am. But of course that didn’t happen. Last week I mopped the floor with Muff Kackslade, the week before I electrify some shithole down in South America and this week in the EU’s worst decision since electing Ireland to host it’s presidency (and I’m from Ireland!) they don’t even give me a God-damned match. Can you believe it they didn’t want you people to see me!! Now I know most of you don’t have the capacity to understand English and sunbathe at the same time but try and follow me here!
The chants still haven’t died.
Mike Wade: Now I’m not gonna come out here like the usual gobshites and demand title matches and demand things like that. I’m saying I wanna prove myself. If that’s what it takes. If the AWC hierarchy are not smart enough to see I’m a star I’ll show them I’m a star. To be honest I ain’t got much else to say and the smell of B.O. from you Spanish hairy women is creeping me out. So I’m taking my midget and going home! You people couldn’t get laid in a whore house with a 1000 peseta note hanging out of your crotch so don’t even bother joining the Parade! Hit my music!
“Jump Around” by House of Pain hits and Mike drops the mic and basically storms out of the arena with Mickey in tow. Of course he doesn’t forget to flip off our Spanish fans first!
Miguel Rodriguez: Mike Wade, seemingly is not a happy camper!
The Illustrious Face-Eater/Amy Silveira/Andy Murray vs Rainbow Flag/Jack Moses
STIPULATION: TRIO TAG MATCH
REFEREE: AARON DAVIES
AUTHOR: LARA CLARKE
The arena lights flash around the stadium. Doooooblin Dave and Miguel Rodriguez are seated, comfortably in their commentator chairs; their headsets resting nicely over their heads as the fans begin a chant for both men. Suddenly their chants are swayed as soon as Hans Heinemann stands up, in his tuxedo and makes his way into the ring.
Hans Heinemann: The following match is a six-man Tag.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Well we’re about to kick things off tonight. A six-man tag match.
Miguel Rodriguez: The contenders in this match are up-and-coming superstars, I think this will be a match to make history.
Suddenly the commentators microphones fall silent, as “Welcome Home” by Cohead & Cambria hit’s the sound system in the Matin Carpena arena. The Illustrious Face-Eater makes his way down to the ring, fully clothed in his ring attire. The fans boo him continuously but he just shrugs it off with his new comment “WHAT!”.
Hans Heinemann: Making his was to the ring from Utah, THE ILLUSTRIOUS FACE-EATER.
The Illustrious Face-Eater just slides into the ring, taunts the crowd and then takes his position at the ring post.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: What kind of name is THE ILLUSTRIOUS FACE-EATER? I am truly confused! Although he seems likeable.
Miguel Rodriguez: Em …
An AWC edited version of the Prodigy's "Girls" begins playing over the loud speakers, the theme of Amy Silveira: receiving cheers from the attending Spanish crowd, most of whom have only seen her in action once.
Imagine how it would be
To be at the top, making cash money
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: It’s last weeks’ Fresh!man, Amy Silveira:! Can’t wait to see her in the flesh.
Miguel Rodriguez: I’m with you on that one, Dave. (drools)
And tour all around the world
Tell stories about all the young..
The heavy beat of the theme kicks in, and the arena effects begin to produce flashing lights in various colours, lighting up the entrance way in shades of blue, green, orange and red in fast bursts. Upon the beat kicking in, the proud-looking Portuguese manager Hugo Silveira appears to the entrance, next to his daughter Amy, and after a moment or two looking around and taking in the cheers he leads his daughter to the ring. Amy walks about a pace behind him, looking around in a serious manner, albeit more laid-back than in the previous week.
James Brunt: The following is a singles match. Entering first, weighing in at 116 pounds and accompanied by her father Hugo, Amy Silveira!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: I wonder if she can impress tonight as much as she did last week. This six man tag she’s involved in won’t be easy.
Miguel Rodriguez: Hey, stop sounding so professional. I’m the one who sounds professional; you’re the dork who acts dopy.
Upon reaching the ring, Hugo takes a seat at the ringside in a chair near to the commentary team. Amy steps through the middle ropes of the ring, taking a seat on top of the turnbuckle, and looking around slightly whilst also focusing on the entrance way, awaiting the other competitors in the match.
“Bat County” by Avenged Sevenfold hit’s the sound system and the Scot’s man, Andy Murray gets a warm reception from the Spaniards as he makes his way past the infamous black curtain and down the ramp, slapping the hands of some fans.
Hans Heinemann: Making his way to the ring, from Aberdeen, Scotland. ANDY MURRAY.
Murray joins his fellow team-mates, Silveria and Face-Eater as they await their opponents. The Spanish boo Face-Eater slightly and Amy smiles under her long hair.
“That’s the way love goes” by Janet Jackson hit’s the sound system and Rainbow Flag are now standing on the ramp, Sam and Pat smile at the amount of people in the arena and begin a slow decent, together down the ramp.
Hans Heinemann: Making their way to the ring, SAM AND PAT, RAINBOW FLAG.
Sam and Pat shrug off the boos and wait on the outside for their tag-partner.
Janet Jackson’s music ends and “Dreams” by Game has now burst its way into the stadium. Jack Moses stands on the stage and receives a mixed reaction from the fans. Not really paying too much attention he walks down to meet his team-mates.
All three members of either team are now standing in the ring. Amy Silveria and Pat remain as the first two to kick things off. The bell rings and Amy is straight on the attack, catching Pat completely off guard, she whips him into her fellow team-mates turn buckle, who hold him down as Amy charges with a shoulder to the abdomen.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: She’s an energetic little minx …
Miguel Rodriguez: Amy Silveria with some vicious shoulder blocks to Pat’s abdomen.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: You’re just going to ignore me?
Miguel Rodriguez: Shush … if we don’t commentate, we could be fired …
Face-Eater and Murray let go of Pat, who falls face first to the mat below. Sam bellows at the referee, but it does not pay off. Amy charges at Sam, and catches him off guard, sending him crashing to the floor below. Moses tries to grab Silveria, but Murray jumps into the ring and begins to pound away at Pat. Referee Aaron Davies breaks up Silveria and Moses, Murray hops back outside, leaving Pat along with Silveria.
Miguel Rodriguez: Some nice team-work from Silveria and Murray.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: That was brilliant … of course I would like to see a little more of the ladies on my first day here.
Miguel Rodriguez: Have you been drinking?
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Now why would you assume that?
Miguel Rodriguez: You’re Irish!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Well!!! If you must know … I was tending to my potato patch, not drinking, but I probably will drown my sorrows in the pub later …
Pat is now standing and Silveria and Pat tie-up. Pat with the clear weight and height advantage begins to slowly drive Silveria backwards, Silveria quickly adjusts her own momentum and delivers a quick arm drag. Scurrying over to her corner, she tags in The Illustrious Face-Eater.
Miguel Rodriguez: Face-Eater is now on the scene. Oh, wait, Pat has just tagged in Moses.
Moses hops the third rope and charges full force at Face-Eater. Face-Eater suddenly ducks the flying clothesline and smiles, Moses luckily rolls over and comes back again, but this time Face-Eater isn’t so lucky. Moses grabs the back of Face-Eater’s head and swings him around with a swinging Neckbreaker. He goes for the pin.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: First pin of the match.
ONE!
TWO!
Face-Eater grabs the bottom rope and pushes Moses off of him. Moses smirks to himself and tags in Sam. Sam carefully waits for Face-Eater to stand up. The two lock arms and begin to circle around. The fans are becoming slightly impatient and begin a “BORING” chant.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Miguel do something … the fans are bored. Quickly, speak some Spanish … soothed their horrible chants.
Miguel Rodriguez: They’re not booing us!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Oh, phew!
Face-Eater now has the upper-hand. Both me are being booed> Face-Eater tries a quick bulldog, but Sam reveres it into a belly-to-belly slam. Murray slaps the back of Face-Eater and makes a charge at Sam, but referee Davies says he saw no tag. Murray walks back to his corner. Sam and Pat are now in the ring and charge at Face-Eater. Face-Eater yells something at the two men.
Sam aggravated taps the back of Pat and the two charge, from either direction. Face-Eater ducks the WAVE 7 just at the last moment. Both men collide with a clothesline from hell. Pat rolls out to the ring, dazed. Sam is now out flat and Face-Eater pins.
Miguel Rodriguez: Did you see that? They both hit each other with a clothesline from hell.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Face-Eater is lucky, that could’ve been him squished in the middle of RAINBOW FLAG. Davies with the count.
ONE!
TWO!
THR-!
Murray breaks-up the count and drags Sam over to their corner. Face-Eater laughs and tags in Murray. Both Moses and Murray begin a stare down as Pat manages to make his way back onto the apron. Murray and Moses tie-up. Moses chucks Murray into the ropes with a vicious Irish Whip. Murray ducks Moses attempt at a big boot and grabs Moses with a german suplex. Moses caught off guard, screams as he’s lifted into the air. Murray and Moses collide with the mat, but Murray refuses to let go of his hold, he twirls his legs in the air and hoists a wobbly Moses into the air again for a second German suplex. The fans begin a “MURRAY” chant. Murray connects with a third and gets an ovation of a reaction from the Spanish fans, here in Madrid.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Three german suplexes, poor Moses might be a little dizzy.
Miguel Rodriguez: The fans are starting to get behind Murray.
Murray falls to his knees and rolls Moses over for the cover. Davies begins to count:
ONE!
TWO!
Moses gets his hand on the bottom rope with help from Sam. Murray smiles and delivers a shocking kick to the abdomen and walks over to his corner. Climbing the turnbuckle, he waits for Moses to get up.
Miguel Rodriguez: Assai moonsalt … Murray just hit Moses from half way across the ring with an Assai moonsalt.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Oh no, he also hit referee Aaron Davies.
Suddenly Pat and Sam charge into the ring and begin to pound away at Murray. Face-Eater hops the rope and charges at the two with a flying clothesline, knocking them over the top rope to the floor below. Amy Silveria is now standing on top of the turnbuckle and chucks herself off and collides with Pat and Sam. All three lie out flat on the mat outside. Face-Eater begins to wake-up referee Aaron Davies and waits for Moses to stand.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Did you see what Amy just did. My god, that girl has some courage.
Miguel Rodriguez: In case you missed it … Murray and Moses are still the legal men.
Face-Eater is now back at his corner, as is Silveria. Pat and Sam are crawling on hands and knees back to their ring post. Murray, using the ropes for support is standing, as is Moses. Both men lock-up again. Moses drives Murray forward. Driving his knee into Moses’ ribs. Murray Irish Whips Moses into his team-mates corner. Amy leans back, avoiding the flailing arms of Moses. Murray charges at Moses and tags in Amy Silveria.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Some great team work from Silveria and Murray. Face-Eater is the dominator it seems … the man running the team.
Miguel Rodriguez: Don’t doubt them yet, Doooooblin Dave.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Why would I doubt them. Amy Silveria is now the legal woman in this match.
Amy Silveria performs a high dropkick to Moses sending him flying forward, he collides with the mat, just close enough to Pat. Pat tags his fellow partner and climbs into the ring. Pat eyes Amy Silveria up and down and then charges, Amy falls to the ground and performs a leg sweep, tripping Pat up. Pat falls face first. Silveria now on the assault, straddles the back of Pat and catches him an STF. Pat reels in pain and looks for some support … a rope … or his team-mates. Murray cheers on Amy, as do the fans.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Amy applying the infamous STF to Pat. You know that can really pull a muscle, if you’re not careful.
Miguel Rodriguez: Aaron Davies now checking the signs of Pat. Will this be the end to the match?
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: I can finally return to my potato patch!
Miguel Rodriguez: This isn’t the only match tonight. We still have plenty more to come.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: It isn’t? Ah, damit … oh well!
Davies lifts Pat’s free arm and drops it. Pat’s arm hit’s the mat once. The fans burst for Amy Silveria. Davies lifts Pat’s arm twice and it hit’s the mat. Suddenly Sam lunges at Amy, with a sharp boot to the head. Amy’s neck jolts forward and then back and she collapses to the mat. The fans let out a sudden gasp …
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: OH MY GOD! HER NECK … MEDICS
Murray hops the rope and dives at Sam, knocking him over the ropes. He quickly checks on Amy, but Davies signals for him to go back to the ring-post. Face-Eater sits ideally by the ring post and waits for his chance to wreak havoc! Amy begins to stir and crawls over to the ring post, tagging in Face-Eater. Face-Eater charges into the ring, like a raging BULL!
Miguel Rodriguez: Face-Eater now into the ring. Medics have arrived on scene and are beginning to check on Amy Silveria.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: That was an unnecessary kick from Sam.
Miguel Rodriguez: Perhaps, but there are risks to this game. Everyone knows that.
Face-Eater plants Pat with an atomic drop and covers.
ONE!
Pat kicks out and grabs his lower area in pain. Face-Eater now standing charges at Pat once more. Face-Eater grabs him and connects with sharp DDT. Pat’s body lies face first into the mat, as Face-Eater sits up and taunts Sam and Moses. The fans boo Face-Eater.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: The Illustrious Face-Eater doesn’t have too many fans here tonight.
Miguel Rodriguez: I’m starving! I wonder if the popcorn vender will ever makes its way over here! My stomach is performing the conga line!
Davies checks on Pat, as Face-Eater tags in Murray. Pat suddenly lunges at Moses and tags him in, Sam sighs and helps his partner to the ring post. Moses and Murray tie-up once more. Murray turns sharply and catches Moses, twisting him over his hip, Moses lands of his rear and Murray grabs Moses’ arms, shoving his knee into Moses’s spine, Murray pulls back on Moses’ arms. Davies checks on Moses. Suddenly Sam lunges and clips the back of Murray’s head with a dropkick. Face-Eater is now after Sam, charging full-force. Face-Eater catches Sam, both men crash to the outside.
Miguel Rodriguez: Face-Eater and Sam are battling it out on the outside, completely oblivious to what is going on in the ring.
Murray slides over to Amy Silveria and tags her in. Suddenly Pat charges at Amy, she ducks and Pat connects with Murray, the two men fall through the second rope. Pat crashes against the steel steps as Murray lands on Pat’s limp body. The fans begin to “SILVERIA” chants.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Yes, Amy Silveria is about to kick things off. She’s quite an impressive superstar. That high flying assai thing was brilliant.
Miguel Rodriguez: Both Pat and Murray seems out-of-it!
Moses turns to face Silveria, but Silveria knees him straight in the crown jewels. Moses’s face cringes as he stares at Silveria, blankly.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Right in the lower regions … the one weakness of every man.
Miguel Rodriguez: Oh, Face-Eater has just sent Sam into the barricade with a vicious Irish Whip.
Davies distracted with the four men fighting outside, doesn’t realise that Moses has just scooped Silveria over. Davies turns around and Moses uses the ropes for support, the fans begin to boo.
ONE!
TW-!
Davies scoops Moses’s feet off the second ropes and cancels the pin. Moses’s curses a little and looks for support from his fellow team-mates, but they are too busy on the outside with Face-Eater and Murray.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: It’s just Moses and Silveria left.
Miguel Rodriguez: It would seem so, yes.
Moses looks around, Silveria is now up and standing, brushing her hair back behind her ears. Moses stands up and smirks, sizing up his opponent, Silveria. Suddenly Silveria turns on her foot and delivers a powerful spinning heel kick to the chest area. Moses gasps for air.
Miguel Rodriguez: White Lightning!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Miguel it’s sunny in Spain, there is no lightning!
Miguel Rodriguez: No, Silveria’s trademark move. Don’t you read the manual.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: ….
Silveria jumps at Moses, and wraps her legs around his head and connects with, Torcendo Moonsault. Davies looks around and then notices Moses out flat, “SILVERIA” chants soon echo around the arena.
Miguel Rodriguez: The agile ability of this young 18 year old.
Silveria rolls Moses over and pins.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
The bell rings, Davies helps Silveria up and raises her hand. Face-Eater slides into the ring, along with Murray and strangely enough Hugo Silveria is now standing and clapping his hands, he signals for Amy to leave the ring with him.
Hans Heinemann: Here are you winners, AMY SILVERIA, ANDY MURRAY AND THE ILLUSTRIOUS FACE EATER.
Burning Make-Up
FEATURING: PIERCE LAVELLE AND SARAH KENNEDY
AUTHOR: LARA CLARKE
Madrid’s streets are extremely quiet, as Fresh! begins its first show around Europe. The backstage locker-room is a hive of activity. People buzzing around, drinking coffee, chatting, backstage staff fixing wiring or electronics. Pierce Lavelle is seated on a box, dressed in a baggy pair of black ¾ length shorts. A stylist is floating around him, applying the necessaries before he goes out into the ring.
Pierce Lavelle: Will this take much longer?
Pierce looks around at all of the stylist staff, and spots Sarah Kennedy walking towards him, carrying a tray of make-up.
Sarah Kennedy: Hi Pierce … I see you are preparing for your match. Is it okay if I ask you a couple of questions?
Pierce Lavelle stares at the stylist and then looks at Sarah Kennedy.
Pierce Lavelle: Sure, I don’t see why not. Anything that will take me away from the humility of wearing make-up.
Sarah Kennedy: Well … I was wondering what are your thoughts on your match tonight against Ellis Nash.
Pierce Lavelle: You’ll have to elaborate that question, just a little.
Sarah Kennedy: What are your thoughts on facing Ellis Nash tonight, in defending your title against someone who beat you before?
Pierce Lavelle: That’s much better.
Sarah Kennedy blushes a little and looks back down at her refill pad. Pierce grabs his bottle of water and takes a sip before answering the question.
Pierce Lavelle: I guess I am a little nervous in facing Nash tonight, because, yes as you said, she did beat me before and I very aware of that little fact, but she also beat Strider, which makes it just that little bit more terrifying, perhaps. I wouldn’t really know how to look at this situation, to be honest. I could win or lose tonight … it’s very much 50/50. I mean we have a lot of weird stuff happening backstage at the moment too, which means that anything could happen at any given moment. Last week my own tag-team partner was covered in fire ants … so who knows! Stranger things could happen. As far as my thoughts on tonight are concerned, I’ll just go out there and give it my best shot, perform like a good champion and try to continue making a name for myself in this business. Yes, it would be an achievement to beat Nash … but as I said, it’s very much 50/50. What I am really looking forward to, is seeing all of my Spanish fans.
Sarah Kennedy: Speaking of Tim Shipley. Do you have any idea as to who could be behind all of these little stunts.
Pierce takes another sip of water and leans forward.
Pierce Lavelle: I have no idea who it could be, but it sure is rattling Shipley. He’s still in America at the moment, trying to figure out who it is that is behind all of this, and he has some issues with two men in a certain company that performed a little stunt last week. He wasn’t too happy about that.
Sarah Kennedy: Will we be hearing from Shipley?
Pierce Lavelle: I don’t know … maybe … maybe not!
Sarah Kennedy: Do you think whoever is behind these attacks, could come after you?
Pierce leans backwards now and runs his hand through his hair.
Stylist: No … don’t do that … you’ll ruin the make-up.
Pierce Lavelle: I never actually thought of that, Sarah. I suppose it could be possible, but I wouldn’t really know. I guess now I better watch my back.
Pierce laughs a little, but it seems to be more nerves. Sarah Kennedy sits back and crosses her legs. Pierce listens to the fans in the arena chanting his name.
Sarah Kennedy: Tonight you apologized to Strider, but it didn’t seem to go too well. Do you think perhaps they’ll every be a mutual respect between the two of you.
Pierce Lavelle: No, never, well, probably not, no. I apologized and my conscience is clean, it is Strider now who has to apologize to Shipley, but that is up to him. I was out of line two weeks ago, I admit that and I have apologized, Strider’s reaction to it, was a little strange, but a push from Strider is nothing …I just can’t wait for the next time I spar with him in a ring. I think we both have some unfinished business.
Sarah Kennedy: That would make great TV. Pierce Lavelle vs. Alex Strider IV. Well, now that you have had a chance to bathe in your glory of being Transatlantic Champion, what do you think of it?
Pierce stand up and quickly dips his face into the water basin.
Pierce Lavelle: DAMN IT BURNS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The stylist quickly runs over and checks Lavelle’s face, which has now turned completely pale red. His eyes are a little bloodshot. The stylist picks up a bottle of make-up remover and smudges it over his face. Lavelle dips his face back into the water and washes off the make-up.
Pierce Lavelle: It still burns … what did you use on my face?
Sarah Kennedy checks the bottle of bronze tint and sniffs it.
Sarah Kennedy: This isn’t the bronze tint!
Pierce Lavelle: What?
Sarah Kennedy: It smells … they don’t usually smell.
By this time, the Stylist has gone bright red in the face too, but hers is more embarrassment. Pierce’s face is still red and he is now biting his lips.
Pierce Lavelle: Who would sabotage a bottle of bronze tint. Damn … this hurts!!!!
A medic is soon on the scene and pulls off the tag on the bottle, to reveal another tag underneath: “SODIUM HYDROXIDE! NaOH” - “Warning - may burn or irritate if it comes in contact with skin, always wear gloves when handling”
Pierce Lavelle: Oh GREAT!
Medic: I have a lotion that will stop the burning, but you will need to take a shower to wash the rest of you make-up and ‘bronze’ tint off.
Sarah Kennedy: Pierce, do you think -
Pierce Lavelle: Yes … whoever is after Shipley, has just come after me. Just what I needed!!!!!! Well I hope I am not right …
Sarah Kennedy: Can I continue this interview later?
Pierce Lavelle: I have Sodium Hydroxide all over my face and you want to continue my interview … very well … I’ll contact you next week …
Pierce Lavelle dips his head, grabs a towel and an ice pack and follows the medic down the hallway. Some of the other wrestlers have stopped chatting and begin to check their own bronze tint and faces, for any burning or redness.
Acquired Musical Taste
FEATURING: JOSHUA CURTIS
AUTHOR: JOSHUA CURTIS
A cameraman comes backstage and heads to the locker room marked simply “Army” and after a light knock on the door the cameraman is greeted by Ami Mizuno ,the younger sister of Joshua Curtis and she waves him in and as she does so Joshua looks up from his drum kit before noticing the cameraman and speaking…
Joshua L. Curtis: - Well hello again fans. Joshua Curtis here and you are just in time for a little something that we do occasionally back at the “Complex” in which we do a little mini-concert of sorts and sometimes we invite people not in the “Army” to come and other times we just like to keep it private. Tonight you all get a treat because Michiru agreed to perform a medley of songs on her violin and then “Q” as we like to call him along with Trowa Barton are going to perform something that we like to call the “Sparkling Melody” for you all tonight. Again we don’t normally do “public performances” but you guys and gals are so cool that we thought we would grant you the access to the concert that no one else gets. So without further ado Michiru the floor is yours…
As soon as Joshua says that Michiru takes the violin and begins to play the medley which finishes in under 4 minutes according to the stopwatch that Joshua was using and then the “Sparkling Melody” began soon after which gets a BIG ovation from the fans in the arena and for this Joshua is on the drums in which the eruption is such that the roof is shaking! As the song finishes the camera goes back to the arena for the next match to begin.
The Farmer vs Kris Krimzon
STIPULATION: SINGLES
REFEREE: JOSEPH REID
AUTHOR: BRENDAN SLIGE
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Holy potatoes, Batman. We’re about to start our illustrious bullwhip match.
Miguel Rodriguez: I can whip it good, all night long.
Hans Heinemann: Does anyone else think it’s stupid to be having a gimmick match like this with out there being at least some sort of grudge between Krimzon and the Farmer?
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: GUINNESS! Yes!
Miguel Rodriguez: Who really cares these two are going to get it on like me and my babysitter in seventh grade.
Hans Heinemann: I would just much rather see a good technical match than this load of schnitzel.
The Farmer runs for the corner to get the bullwhip early but is caught by Krimzon who smashes him to the mat with a dragon sleeper type drop. The Farmer quickly rolls and gets up. He grabs Krimzon by the hair and slams his face into the turnbuckle from which hangs the bullwhip. Krimzon grabs The Farmer around the waist and whips all his body weight back causing an advantaged belly to back suplex.
Miguel Rodriguez: I like the little guy, but something tells me his little guy is not my big boy.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: My the road rise up to meet Krimzon, and may angels fly out of his ass. Now the little bloke is climbing up to the to top turnbuckle going for the bullwhip.
Miguel Rodriguez: Actually, he’s turning around, I think his brain is about the size of his testicles. Maybe he forgot where the bullwhip is.
Krimzon gets up from the assault and allows The Farmer to get up as Krimzon bounces of the rope and takes The Farmer back down with a leaping clothesline. Krimzon starts to apply a sharpshooter, when our agricultural hero kicks our comedic relief in the face. Krimzon shakes his head and tries again.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: As me Irish Dad always use to say, If ye plant two seeds one is bound to be a potato, just as Krimzon is planting two seeds in his sharpshooter.
Miguel Rodriguez: The Farmer just planted his foot into the seeds of Krimzon.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: I thought ye was going to stop with the farming things? You just said pitchfork.
The Farmer rolls out of the ring and speaks to his hands giving them a little prep talk. He slides back into the ring and begins throwing stiff shots at Krimzon. The Farmer manhandles Krimzon into the corner and begins to continuously punch Krimzon. Krimzon brings his arms to his face attempting to block the rolling blows but The Farmer only changes the concentration of his hands to Krimzon’s gut.
Miguel Rodriguez: It’s hard to avoid the blows when you got this beeeg boy.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Quit talking about that thing!
Miguel Rodriguez: MI DIO! Kris Krimzon is going to service The Farmer’s manhood right here.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Hey if this turns into a porno on cable I’m definitely adding a little cheesy beat box riff to this potato.
Krimzon having now seated himself on the mat grabs the foot of the Farmer who falls down immediately. Krimzon sits back against the turnbuckle and reclines himself.
Miguel Rodriguez: Krimzon needs to rest after a nice session like her just gave The Farmer, see it knocked the Farmer on to his ass.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: My mother always drinks a bit of Guinness after servicing my dad, she say’s it’s because she needs to catch up with him or something.
Miguel Rodriguez: I need to smoke on a nice beeeg old cigar after letting my beeeg boy out of his cage.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Now see he must be like my mother, because he is holding onto the ropes for support, he must be a little tipsy.
Miguel Rodriguez: He is, how do you American’s say it, Pimp Daddy! Pimp Daddy!
Krimzon, now on the mat, has become the recipient of blows to the face by the Irish brawler. The Farmer who is sitting on the chest of Krimzon, suddenly gets off of Krimzon. Krimzon remains dazed on the mat as the Farmer climbs the corner turnbuckle and grabs the bullwhip.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: It’s better to whip the cream the evening before that to whip the ass before you put it in your Irish coffee.
Miguel Rodriguez: Now The Farmer decided to return the favor of Krimzon’s earlier position on his knees, this time however, The Farmer decides to get kinky with it.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Ooooh…
Miguel Rodriguez: IS IT TOO KINKY FOR YOU LIL’ BOY!!! I’m telling you right now if the Farmer were hot like Penelope Cruz or something man beeeg boy would be giant boy for kinky sheet like ‘dis.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: STICK IT IN HER ROTTEN POTATO!!!
Miguel Rodriguez: I got turned down like this once, I pulled out my beeeg boy and I guess she got nervous so she started running.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: As they say in Ireland, the daisy blooms before the winter’s frost.
Miguel Rodriguez: I chased her all around the hotel room, but I finally pinned her down and got the job done.
The Farmer, still chasing Krimzon around the ring, whips his whip around the foot of Krimzon and pulls bring Krimzon down to the hard floor. The Farmer also looses his balance from this task and falls on his face.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: As they say on the Island, Guinness doesn’t deteriorate your mind - it just enhances your creativity.
Miguel Rodriguez: Me and my beeeg boy are sexy aren’t we?
By this time, Krimzon has made it up from being tripped by the whip and ventured his way over to wear his fault lies. Krimzon grabs the whip and smacks The Farmer across the back with it a couple of times. Krimzon suddenly stops as if he’s gotten and idea. He lifts the Farmer to his feet and ties the whip around the Farmer’s ankles. Krimzon walks away as The Farmer starts to follow. The Farmer falls to the floor. Krimzon points and laughs at the Farmer.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Man, I am enjoying this match!
Krimzon walks over to the Farmer and helps him to his feet again. Krimzon walks a little bit aways from him and motions for the Farmer to follow him. The Farmer this time does not move. Krimzon sighs a look of disappointment on his face. He walks back over towards the Farmer who lunges at Krimzon with left fist. Both men fall to the ground. The Farmer repositions himself so that he is on his side.
Miguel Rodriguez: Awww… they are going to have one of those “afterwards” conversations. You know those ones your woman wants to have when you want to go to sleep.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: I’m telling you this match is turning out to be more and more like the times my mom and dad camp out.
Miguel Rodriguez: Krimzon must be tired of the post-part-them conversation as he begins to roll away from the fists to his jaw.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: POTATOES! GUINNESS! LEPRECHAUNS! Knock her out and drag her back to the cave.
Krimzon grabs a hold of the top of the barricade and pulls himself up. He grabs his shoulder in pain. He bends down and unties The Farmer. Krimzon takes the whip and rolls back into the ring. The Farmer follows and is met with a round of fury from the raw hide in the hand of our cruiserweight. The Farmer begins to bleed from the back as he crawls towards Krimzon.
Miguel Rodriguez: Sometimes it takes a little liquor to get someone to do what you want with them.
The Farmer quickly gets up, although covered with blood, grabs the whip and begins unleashing all his might onto the flesh of Krimzon who turns many shades of crimson at the location of his lashings. The Farmer wraps the whip around the neck of Krimzon and drags him over to the corner. Using the rope rings to balance him, the Farmer lifts Krimzon and props him up against the corner. The Farmer begins to tie Krimzon to the corner ropes with the whip.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Leather handcuffs! Viva las Ireland!!!
The Farmer begins to reak havoc as he lays into Krimzon with his clenched hands. Krimzon swings with all his might but he is unable to move his arms from being tied down. Krimzon lifts a knee to get some space between him and the Farmer but the Farmer only begins to punch Krimzon’s knee. Giving up Krimzon begins to take the beating. The Farmer walks away from Krimzon and motions for Krimzon to come after him. Krimzon starts to walk towards the Farmer but feels a tug on his hand. Krimzon turns quickly to see who has grabbed him to realize he’s only still tied to the ring. The Farmer points and laughs at Krimzon.
Miguel Rodriguez: Wait what? These two are going to do it again? The Farmer is Pimp Daddy! Pimp Daddy! Pimp Daddy! Pimp Daddy!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Agh! This is outta control.
The Farmer remains on the floor as Krimzon attempts to get himself loose from his current predicament. All attempts to untie himself are futile. He snaps his body forward in a flipping motion only to twist both of his arms. Krimzon begins to scream in agony. The screaming seems to wake up The Farmer and he pushes himself up to a standing postion. Seeing Krimzon’s predicament The Farmer goes to untie the knots in the whip.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: The Farmer is looking around like he doesn’t know the different between a potato and a Guinness!
Miguel Rodriguez: Uh-oh. Spaggetio.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: The farmer shrugs and just starts throwing knuckles into the face of Krimzon.
Miguel Rodriguez: That’s it! Knock that bitch out, she won’t remember your name in the morning.
The Farmer continues the assault on Krimzon until Krimzon lies motionless in the corner. The referee comes to check on Krimzon. He grabs the arm of Krimzon to lift but realizes it is tied to the ring rope. He lifts the head of Krimzon and drops it.
ONE!
He lifts agains and drops it, Krimzon’s head falling once again.
TWO!
The Referee lifts for the last time and drops the head of Krimzon.
THREE!
Hans Heinemann: Here is your winner… THE FARMER!!!
Pierce Lavelle (c) vs Ellis Nash
STIPULATION: SINGLES - AWC TRANSATLANTIC CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH
REFEREE: MICHAEL RYAN
AUTHOR: DAVE LARKIN
Miguel Rodriguez: By Jesus, I do believe this is our first main event together, man!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: POTATOES! Oh, so it is, Miggy! And what a grand old main event we have tonight. It’s the Transatlantic champion, Pierce Lavelle, taking on “The Mouth of The South” Jimmy Hart, ladies and gentlemen!
Miguel Rodriguez: Umm, what did you just say?
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: I said, and listen carefully this time -
Miguel Rodriguez: (shouting) You just said that tonight’s main event is a match that it’s not, DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~! What kinda fool are you, huh? Let me do this thang, okay?
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: (feigning sadness) Well, okay. If - if you put it that way, I guess…
Miguel Rodriguez: Yes, yes. Now, tonight’s main event which you are about to witness will involve the Transatlantic champion Pierce Lavelle, and his opponent tonight is none other than Ellis Nash. Now, over the past few weeks, Ellis Nash has built up quite a reputation in AWC.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Indeed she has, Miggy. Just a couple of weeks ago, Nash beat the former champion, Alexander Strider, in singles competition. And to top it off, Nash has also beaten Lavelle! If she can do it once, then surely POTATOES!
Miguel Rodriguez: Surely potatoes?
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: I’m not repeating myself, Miggy.
Miguel Rodriguez: Right. Let’s move on, shall we? Time now to take you down, using our hi-tech camera technology, to our ring announcer this evening! Some call him “The Grumpy One”, some call him Hans, but I call him Heinz! Hans Heinemann, everybody!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: He cracks me up, you know. Look at the vein in his head about to pop!
Hans Heinemann stands stock straight in the ring, eyeing the fans all over the arena with contempt. Heinemann’s trademark bulging vein on his right temple has started to go into overdrive due to the boisterous crowd. Heinemann clenches his fist and raises the microphone to his mouth, trying to hold back the anger.
Hans Heinemann: If I could say a few words, please. I’d like to do my job, if you pests don’t mind!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Ouch! Calling the fans pests won’t score him any brownie points.
Miguel Rodriguez: I wish he’d just show some love for once.
The fans react with nothing but boos for the East Atlantic ring announcer. Heinemann’s frustration shows as he tries to announce the match once again. This time, he appears more composed.
Hans Heinemann: The following contest is scheduled for one fall and it is for the AWC Transatlantic championship!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Would you look at that, Miggy? He got it out at last.
Miguel Rodriguez: I knew he would, bro. Germans are like that; they just need a little time. Angry, angry people.
The Spanish fans come to their feet as they now know it is time for the main event. The support for Pierce Lavelle is overwhelming in the arena. All of the signs are in Spanish, however. Scattered around the arena are some Ellis Nash fans; most of the signs involving her also have a heart or some form of chat-up lines on them.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: You see that sign right over there, Miggy? You know, the naked picture of me.
Miguel Rodriguez: I’m not even gonna do you the honour of looking at that disaster!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: FYI, my body is too much for any woman to handle. One time, this one lass came over to me and actually offered to strip me naked. What do you think I said in reply?
Miguel Rodriguez: She’s all yours, baby? Something like that?
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Nope, I said something else. Something beginning with G.
Miguel Rodriguez: Guinness?
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: You got it in one.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~! gives Rodriguez a congratulatory slap on the back.
The lights on the stage go down, so that only darkness reigns. “Stockholm Syndrome” by British band Muse begins to play on the P.A. system and the fans explode. After a few dazzling light effects, the reigning Transatlantic champion steps through the curtain, brimming with confidence. Pierce Lavelle stands tall at the top of the ramp way, and waits a moment as his pyros go off behind him. Lavelle slides under the bottom rope and salutes the Spanish fans on every side of the ring. The fans give the young Harrisburg native a red hot welcome.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Spanish fans love Lavelle, Miggy. Not as much as they love me, but you know…
Miguel Rodriguez: I seriously don’t think anyone could love Lavelle more than you, man. You’re a lovable guy.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: That’s what I keep saying!
Miguel Rodriguez: Yeah, when you’re not saying potatoes.
Hans Heinemann: In the ring, from Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, weighing in at 245 pounds… he is the current Transatlantic champion… PIERCE LAVELLE!
The fans go into a frenzy of cheers for the young champion, obviously planning to get behind him in this upcoming contest.
The lonely intonation of a single violin hits the speakers, spotlights flickering white and violet in color against the stage. Suddenly, the melody is joined by the drums and guitar behind it and the chords become clear. As the music picks up in intensity, a large explosion engulfs the stage with white and violet sparks. In the background, "Angellore" by Tristania plays in a fury.
When summer's gone flee my angel
Winterwinds they might lead you far away
Beyond the pale horizon, a greaven silence
Over dreams to my heart yet not remain
Smoke bellows from the area where the explosion lit up the dark arena. As the smoke dissipates, Ellis Nash appears at the top of the stage, jogging in place. She drinks in the crowd's disapproval of her appearance with a simple smirk, the corners of her lips curling almost tauntingly.
Hans Heinemann: And his opponent, from Cortland, New York, weighing in at 117 pounds… whoa, that’s light… ELLIS NASH!
Miguel Rodriguez: A little comment there from Heinemann. I’m sure Nash won’t mind.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: But she is light! My upper body alone weighs more than that!
Nash heads down to the ring, keeping her eyes on Lavelle the whole time. Lavelle also remains focused on Nash. Nash reaches the ring, and rolls under the bottom rope. The fans give her a negative reaction as she taunts them once again. Heinemann leaves the ring and the bell rings just as Nash’s eerie theme music fades out. Referee Michael Ryan is handed the Transatlantic championship by Lavelle. The referee raises it into the air, showing off the biggest prize in AWC.
Miguel Rodriguez: It’s time, ladies and gents. So I suggest you kick back with your woman - or man, if that’s your thing - and enjoy. This one’s gonna be a cracker!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Made better by the fact we’re commentating. I mean, False and Flaccidy are okay, but we’re about ten times better. POTATOES!
Lavelle and Nash are told to begin by referee Michael Ryan. Neither one budges for several seconds, however. The two opt for a stare down to attempt to psyche each other out. After a minute of mind games, the competitors tie-up. Lavelle, the stronger of the two, easily pushes Nash down to the mat. Another tie-up, and once again Lavelle muscles Nash into the ropes. Nash backs off, formulating a new strategy to wrestle the champion.
Miguel Rodriguez: Clearly Pierce Lavelle is the stronger in this situation. He’s more than double her weight, and on paper this should be an easy victory for Lavelle.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Never underestimate the power of women, Miggy! It’s like that song says: the female of the species is more deadly than the male!
Adopting a more cautious approach, Nash pretends to go for the tie-up, but this time nails Lavelle with a boot to the sternum. Nash delivers a couple of stiff elbows to the chin of Lavelle, causing him to back into the ropes. The crafty Nash whips Lavelle off the ropes. Lavelle ducks the clothesline attempt, and rebounds with a shoulder block to Nash. Nash bounces up instantly, and the fans applaud the competitors show of quickness.
Miguel Rodriguez: It’s going to be dead hard for us to pick the favourite here. The bookies’ favourite is now Lavelle. Oh wait, it just changed back to Nash!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: The bookies aren’t betting on this, are they? What those guys really should be doing is betting on how many pints I can drink in twenty seconds. Now that is worth betting on!
Nash and Lavelle nod at each other now, obviously appreciating the skill and agility the other possesses. Nash keeps the fast pace of the contest going with a diving shoulder in Lavelle’s direction. Lavelle falls against the ropes from the impact, but recovers quickly. Lavelle locks Nash up for a belly-to-belly, and executes it perfectly. Nash lands awkwardly in the middle of the ring, holding the small of her back in pain. Lavelle brings Nash up to her feet and sets the challenger up for a brain buster.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: If that belly-to-belly suplex did damage to Nash’s back, this brain buster sure as hell will, too!
Miguel Rodriguez: Diagnosis: problem for Nash. How will she escape from this one?
Lavelle lifts Nash up to execute the brain buster, but encounters a bit of resistance from the challenger. Nash manages to use her strength to quickly roll Lavelle up into a small package.
ONE!
TWO!
Lavelle powers out quite comfortably before the three count, but the fans in the arena are all on their feet in concern. The look on Lavelle’s face says it all: he didn’t by any means expect that kind of counter from Ellis Nash.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Wasn’t expecting that at all, it seems. Kinda like you weren’t expecting me to say potatoes.
Miguel Rodriguez: When did you say potatoes? Listen, can we concentrate on this match? Unless, of course, you want to check out my beeeeg boy?!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: It’s okay, I’ll pass.
Miguel Rodriguez: I thought you would.
Nash runs at Lavelle, her knee catching the champion off guard in the chin. Nash uses the ropes to choke Lavelle out, but Nash relinquishes the choke hold before the referee’s count reaches four. Lavelle catches his breath now, using the ropes to get back to a vertical base. Nash nonchalantly does a twirl in front of Lavelle, then delivers a stunning jumping spin kick to the head, knocking Lavelle over the top rope to the outside.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Kicks like that can do damage to your brain, you know. Lavelle’s probably got little birds flying around his head right now.
Miguel Rodriguez: That only happens in the movies, man! Speaking of which, I once had a movie deal. It didn’t work out, though.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: How come?
Miguel Rodriguez: Said I was too short… erm…
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: (trying to hold back his laughter)
Miguel Rodriguez: Shut up, or else you’ll feel the wrath of my beeeeg boy!
Nash is in hot pursuit of the champion. Nash dives off the apron on top of Lavelle with a clubbing forearm smash, knocking the champion down to his knees. Nash takes Lavelle up by the head, lays him against the barricade, and lets loose with a series of knife-edge chops to the chest. Lavelle’s bare chest begins to turn a violent red colour. Nash finishes chopping Lavelle, rolling him back into the ring. Lavelle bounds up quickly in a burst of adrenaline, though, and surprises Nash with an awesome Fisherman suplex. Lavelle covers, hooking the far leg.
ONE!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Lavelle hit that Fisherman suplex out of nowhere! Will this be it for Nash’s hopes of becoming Transatlantic champion?
TWO!
Nash shoots the shoulder up off the canvas before the three count, but Lavelle seems undeterred by Nash’s kickout. Lavelle lays into Nash with several hard kicks to her right arm. Lavelle follows this up by locking on an armbar on the same arm. Nash’s cries of pain can be heard all over the arena, and many fans react with cheers for Lavelle. Nash manages to hold on, however, and edges her body closer to the ropes for a rope break. Lavelle, frustrated by this, has no choice but to let go.
Miguel Rodriguez: Pierce Lavelle is a man on a mission here, DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~! I think he’s finding it a little bit difficult to formulate a strategy against Ellis Nash.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: She’s a slippery one. POTATOES!
Miguel Rodriguez: Thanks for that contribution to the broadcast, man.
Lavelle, attempting to approach the match in a different way, takes Nash up quickly and delivers three vertical suplexes. Lavelle follows this up with an attempt at a german suplex, but Nash rolls through it into an ankle lock out of nowhere on the champion! Lavelle screams out in agony as Nash applies pressure on Lavelle’s ankle.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Emergency for Lavelle! Went for the german suplex, but fell victim to an Ellis Nash ankle lock!
Miguel Rodriguez: Therein lies the talent of Ellis Nash - her ability to surprise you and pick her spot perfectly.
Just as quickly as Nash locked it on, Lavelle counters the ankle lock by kicking Nash off of him. Nash runs back towards Lavelle while he is still down on his back, but Lavelle rolls Nash up into a boston crab submission hold, showing his technical brilliance.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: As quick as a flash, Lavelle has a boston crab on Nash! This is non-stop action right here.
Miguel Rodriguez: I think one fan in the front row just had a tiny, teeny orgasm.
Nash crawls along the mat on her belly to try to reach the bottom rope, but Lavelle’s clear weight advantage isn’t doing her any favours. Michael Ryan asks her if she wants to give up, but with a glance, she tells him “no”. Gritting her teeth and using all her strength, Nash at last reaches the bottom rope, grabbing it as if it were her saviour. Lavelle lets go after a painful few moments for Nash.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: All Lavelle has to do now is keep up the punishment on Nash. He’s certainly not holding back, is he? Unlike our former champion, eh?
Miguel Rodriguez: Damn right, man. Alexander Strider had to do that, though. The lawsuit, remember?
Nash holds the small of her back in pain, and Lavelle pulls her by the leg to the middle of the ring, hoping to finish it here and now. Lavelle looks around at his adoring fans, then points to the top rope to gauge their reaction to the move he plans to pull off.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: It can’t be…
Miguel Rodriguez: Lavelle’s up top! It’s going to be the…
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: SHOOTING STAR PRESS!
Lavelle dives off, twisting his body into a somersault in mid-air for the shooting star press, one of the most dangerous moves in professional wrestling. At the very last moment, Nash rolls out of the way, though, and Lavelle’s body crashes against the mat. The scene in the ring is not unlike a train wreck. Both competitors are down on their backs, Lavelle the worse for ware.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: OH MY GOD!
Miguel Rodriguez: Pierce Lavelle may have just shortened his career with that death-defying move. I’m telling you, folks. That move may look pretty and all, but it hurts like hell when you miss it!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: I’m a little overexcited here. What’s gonna happen now, Miggy? Will it be Nash or Lavelle to seize the advantage and possibly win the match?
Miguel Rodriguez: It’s looking likely it’ll be Nash as she’s now applying a sleeper hold on Lavelle.
Nash applies a sleeper hold to Lavelle to sap his strength. It appears to be working after a few seconds, as Lavelle reaches out to the air. The fans will Lavelle on, hoping he can escape this predicament. Chants for the champion break out all over the arena until the noise almost unbearable for Nash.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Nash’s becoming a little peeved with all these chants, I think.
Miguel Rodriguez: I’m fond of chants myself. Love them to bits.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Like this one: Midget! Midget! Midget!
Miguel Rodriguez: That hurt, DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~! That really, really hurt.
Nash becomes so vexed that she is caught off guard by the champion, who somehow fights Nash off. The champion, though favouring his leg and limping after the unsuccessful shooting star press, whips Nash off the ropes and takes her down with a back elbow to the crowd’s delight. Lavelle keeps whatever momentum he has going, delivering a swinging neck breaker to Nash. Lavelle lies flat on his back after the move, but knows he must cover Nash.
ONE!
TWO!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Ellis Nash just powers out! But did you really expect her to give up that easily, Miggy?
Miguel Rodriguez: Not particularly, no. She’s a strong competitor, but the fact that Lavelle is wrestling with an injury here is showing just why he deserves to be champion. He’s got everything a champion needs - guts, determination, a will to win.
Nash recovers quickly, taking Lavelle by the damaged leg and yanking him down unceremoniously to the canvas. Nash delivers a swift kick to the calf muscle, causing Lavelle to screech out in pain. Nash then goes for the figure four leg lock to a chorus of boos from the crowd. Her cockiness costs her, however, as Lavelle pushes her away. On the rebound from the ropes, Lavelle catches Nash and delivers a DDT. Nash’s head connects with the mat in a sick manner.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: What the ****?!
Miguel Rodriguez: Please, this is a family show. I’m not saying I don’t share your sentiment - that was one hell of a DDT!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: I wouldn’t be surprised if Nash was knocked out. TKO, ref! It’s over!
Miguel Rodriguez: Is it? Looks to me like Nash’s eyes are wide open, albeit a little glazed over. She’ll recover, though…
Nash looks like she’s not leaving la-la land anytime soon, as she stares blankly across the ring at her opponent, Pierce Lavelle. Lavelle picks himself up after the DDT on Nash and lifts her to her feet. Lavelle places Nash in the corner and delivers several stiff blows to the midsection. Lavelle then takes Nash down with a snap mare and follows up with a bulldog. Lavelle makes the cover once again.
ONE!
TWO!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Just short of the three count! Oh, and now I’ve learned it’s a three count, not a four count. Thanks for teaching me that, Miggy.
Miguel Rodriguez: Don’t mention it. Now, let’s see if Ellis Nash can withstand this Lavelle pressure and get back in the driver’s seat.
Lavelle seems frustrated that he can’t put Nash away. Nash surprises Lavelle with a sudden burst of adrenaline, though, as she explodes at him with a kick to the head. Lavelle falls to the canvas, and this gives Nash time to recuperate.
Miguel Rodriguez: Resourceful move by Nash there! This may give her the opening she needs.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Are you a Nashhead all of a sudden, Miggy?
Miguel Rodriguez: I’m just trying to be unbiased, but I’m fond of the chick, yeah.
Nash gets back to a vertical base just as Lavelle does so. Nash, now on the offensive, attacks Lavelle with some skilful kicks and punches. Nash whips Lavelle off the ropes, but Lavelle surprises Nash on the rebound with Black Out. The crowd sense it, and they begin to cheer for Lavelle to perform his finishing move.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: POTATOES!
Miguel Rodriguez: No, it’s called Whiplash!
Lavelle lifts Nash up high in the air, and executes a power bomb into the turnbuckle pad, causing her neck to bend. Nash lands awkwardly on the canvas, but the crowd are going crazy. Lavelle makes the cover.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Pierce Lavelle retains his championship in a hard fought match!
Miguel Rodriguez: It was certainly a treat to sit back and watch this one unfold. All good things come to an end, though. Next week, we’ll be back, of course. Will you miss me, man?
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Nope, not really.
Miguel Rodriguez: (taken aback) Oh… okay then.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: A successful title defense for Pierce Lavelle here tonight in Spain! Good night everybody! POTATOES!
Lavelle stands tall in the ring with his Transatlantic championship over his shoulder. The fans give Lavelle and Nash a standing ovation for their efforts. Lavelle smiles as he heads back up the ramp way, being applauded by his loyal fans all the way.
Fresh!man
FEATURING: DAVID "PEARL" HARBER
AUTHOR: DAVE LARKIN
The scene opens in the comfortable office of AWC’s Entertainment Manager, David “Pearl” Harber. Pearl is seated at his desk with his arms folded, and his appearance on the big screen gives rise to cheers and applause from the Spanish fans. Pearl has a positive demeanour about himself, and seems ready to announce this week’s Fresh!man. The TOP HAT O’ DOOM~! sits in the middle of his desk.
Pearl: Good evening, everyone. Or, as they say in Spanish, buenas tardes!
The Spanish fans pop huge for the first actual Spanish they’ve heard all night.
Pearl: Now, it’s time to announce this week’s Fresh!man. The Fresh!man is the person who, without a shadow of a doubt, has made the biggest impact on this week’s show. I’ve already made my decision. Let’s consult the TOP HAT O’ DOOM~!
Pearl reaches into the hat, and grins as he removes the joker prize, symbolised by a crude drawing of a clown with a skull in its hand. Pearl folds his arms diplomatically, and places the joker prize down on the desk.
Pearl: The person I deem to be Fresh!man this week is… HATE!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Hate is Fresh!man. I guess he deserves it after dominating earlier tonight against Bloodlines.
Miguel Rodriguez: You think? I think Pearl’s just being Pearl. Being unfair is part of his DNA.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: GUINNESS is part of my DNA.
Miguel Rodriguez: Do you even know what DNA stands for?
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Um, no.
Miguel Rodriguez: Sheesh. You’re one beeeeg loser!
Pearl lets it sink in for a moment, as the fans boo the mention of the monster, Hate.
Pearl: Hate, next week on Fresh!, you will be the personal servant of one superstar in the AWC that I choose. You’ll be hearing from me soon with the result.
Pearl shows off that trademark toothy grin, and the scene fades to black.
A Despicable Act
FEATURING: KRIS KRIMZON, JONNY SAKE, THE EDUCATOR
AUTHOR: KERRY RITTER AND JAMES JOHNSON
The camera shows the outside of the Martin Carpena arena, after the short interval that just took place in the last 10 minutes of Fresh!, The camera shows the large neon sign outside of the Arena that reads ‘AWC Fresh! Sold out tonight’ ‘Tomorrow, the explanation of Kris Krimzon’s Dumbness’. Above the Letter A on the large sign there appears to be two legs just taking the top off of the A. The camera lifts up to see the distorted and silhouetted figures of Kris Krimzon, The Educator and Jonny Sake. Jonny Sake seems to have Kris Dangling by the neck over the side of building. The camera zooms in more and looks at The Three from the side.
The Educator: You see Mr. Krimzon, when you try to hold me down, in my already legendary Career, you get consequences, and well this is one of them.
Jonny Sake looks at Educator and lets out a grunt and nods his head.
Kris Krimzon: Sorry man, I just wanted to be partnered with greatness, I never meant to hold you down. And Sake you faggot why are you doing what this knob head tells you, he has never helped you, and I taught you everything I know.
Jonny’s Face crumples up, his eyes turn bloodshot, and he has a scared look to him, he cannot decide whether there is truth in what Krimzon says, or what Educator has poisoned Jonny’s mind with is the truth.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: The Educator has poisoned Jonny’s mind with all crap about Krimzon.
Miguel Rodriguez: Heh, you can call It that, but I think The Educator is a wise man, what he says is true, Krimzon is a half-wit.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: What did Krimzon ever do to you?
Miguel Rodriguez: Join the AWC. But I guess, for the most part, he‘s pretty okay. I just dislike dumb people.
Jonny shakes Krimzon and dangles him further down. Krimson’s face turns a ruby red as blood starts to pour out of the forehead and nose of the half-conscious Kris.
The Educator: I would not try to insult us while you are in such a ‘life altering’ predicament.
Kris Krimzon’s face goes blank, not because he has a lot of blood missing from his body, but he just doesn’t understand the word Predicament.
Jonny Sake: He means, don’t mess with us or you are going to die or get seriously injured, and speaking of seriously injured, I think its time to fly.
Kris Krimzon: Fly? What do you mean?
Jonny Sake: Like this!
Jonny lets go of Krimzon’s Neck and leaves him to fall. His arm flail and his legs kick, as the weight of his body sends him hurdling toward the tarmac down below.
Jonny Sake: Oh, I forgot you cant fly!
Kris carries on plummeting toward a blue Ford Fiesta that has just parked directly underneath the falling path of Kris Krimzon.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Oh my god Miggy, that sadistic S.O.B just tossed Kris of off the side of the Arena.
Miguel Rodriguez: 10…9…8…7…6…5!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: What are you doing?
Miguel Rodriguez: Counting the seconds until Krimzon dies.
CRRRSH
The body of Krimzon plummets into the car and pierces through the metal bonnet of the Ford, his head is all battered and bloody, and his back is all misshapen, his leg is bent up toward his back and his arm is out of its socket.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Oh My God, I hope he is alright. POTATOES!
Miguel Rodriguez: I hope so, too. But let‘s be honest - would you really miss him?
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: You can’t hate him that much Miggy, you can’t wish he‘ll never return. Show a little sympathy for his situation.
Miguel Rodriguez: His face is on my dartboard, and my bedroom is painted in ‘Die Krimzon Die’ Graffiti.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Seriously?
Miguel Rodriguez: Nah, I have you on my dartboard! (laughs)
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: POTATOES! COME ON THE IRISH! Well, this has been an unpredictable Fresh! We'll see you next week!