AWC Fresh!
"Fuck your grand scheme of things." - Murphy
Fresh! 30 July 2010
Scottrade Center (capacity: 19,250) -- St. Louis, MO
Closed for Repairs
AUTHOR: Hyde
“God, this is so good...”
Liam Martin groans with ecstasy, shovelling toasted ravioli into his mouth from a cup emblazoned with a local eatery’s logo (Ritter’s Deli: We’re Ritter Than You!). The St. Louis specialty absorbs the former AWC Alliance Champion’s attention as he troops contentedly up the spiral staircase to begin another night as a glorified security guard for the AWC branch of United Primetime Wrestlers, under Jack Murphy’s stewardship.
L. Martin: Thanks be to God, for this fucking delicious pasta.
His face flecked with tomato sauce, Liam looks to the sky in reverence as he folds his packaging and, not seeing a bin within reach, tosses it surreptitiously into a corner, where it stains the wall red. Ignoring this, one half of the Furious Fists marches up to the door to the Legends’ Lounge and raises his fist to knock, only at the last moment noticing the problem.
Reams of yellow and black tape criss-cross each other over the entrance. The window in the door is blocked out with cardboard. A hastily Sharpied sign reads “CLOSED FOR REPAIRS”.
Martin sneers, trying the door. It’s locked. He pushes it, hard, but it won’t budge.
L. Martin: Tim, are you in there?
He presses his ear to the door, hearing no reply.
L. Martin: Jack?
Seconds pass. Liam Martin shrugs, making for the stairs, but on a whim he stops and collects his discarded packaging, punching the listed number into his phone.
L. Martin: Yeah, can I get another order of the ravioli? Manna from heaven, man. From heaven.
Introduction
AUTHOR: Hyde
The repeated piano line of “All My Friends” by LCD Soundsystem underlies a montage of some of the most famous AWC moments, pay-per-view by pay-per-view.
That’s how it starts
Pierce Lavelle taps out to the Life Support, trapped uselessly in Alexander Strider’s arms, and the bell is rung to declare Strider winner of the original Zero To Hero.
We go back to your house
Paddy O’Shea and Crimson O’Malec mounting opposite turnbuckles either side of the ladder they just mounted to become the inaugural Alliance Champions at Solarized.
You check the charts
The red-painted head of Hate at the wheel of a double-decker London bus, smashing full on into the outer wall of Earl’s Court to conclude The Battle of Britain.
And start to figure it out
The Illustrious Face-Eater pulls off his mask at Testimony. And when no one really knows who Adam Dick is, he begins to yell, and stamp his feet, and then gathers up his mask and cape and leaves.
And if it’s crowded, all the better
The first Triangles match, with nine competitors crammed into the unique triangular structure. We see Jack Murphy’s Bull Charge on Alcaeus, while Adam Dick and Tim Martin team up on Pierce Lavelle.
Because we know we’re gonna be up late
Mike Wade slashes desperately at Chainz’s chest with a jagged shard of glass, but Chainz pulls out a tazer and sends Wade into unstoppable convulsions in the sick Cup of Blood match that stole the show at Winter Warfare.
But if you’re worried about the weather
Red Rock shuts Captain Suleimon in the Iron Maiden to win the Ottoman Torture Chamber match at Bloodlust, burning Suleimon’s desperate hand with a red-hot poker to clinch victory.
Then you picked the wrong place to stay
“I’m sorry,” Chainz mutters to Tracy Stanton, “I’ll always love you.” And he hurls himself off the hotel room balcony, hitting the concrete with a slap, the rain pouring down in the shocking finale to Twilight of the Gods.
That’s how it starts
Mike Wade rips the crown off Adam Dick’s head, clocks him in the face with it at the Zero 2 Hero Fan Festival, marking the end to the reign of the Unfuckables.
And so it starts
Garbage Bag Johnny’s Tragically Hipbuster on Kip Brown, securing him Hero status for 2006 and a Transatlantic title shot for Coast To Coast.
You switch the engine on
Adam Dick hits Mike Wade with the Finger Poke of Doom and Wade drops for the three, signalling one last Unfuckable swerve before Wade’s retirement and induction as a Legend at Divide & Conquer.
We set controls for the heart of the sun
Paddy O’Shea with a giant spin barrelling Ellis Nash into the swimming pool. Gabriel Afeaki bearing down on Johnny Lexicon. Nash with her own springboard frog splash off the diving board to catch Colby Korver. Josh Marquez with the Full House off the top of the climbing wall, crashing right through the deck of the Jewel of the Seas.
One of the ways that we show our age
Adam Dick, Garbage Bag Johnny and Pierce Lavelle drinking in a bar. Dick and Lavelle on scooters, charging down the Segway-bound GBJ. Lavelle and GBJ in a pool of marinara sauce, Dick arriving wearing only his boxers. The madness of Coast To Coast.
And if the sun comes up, if the sun comes up
If the sun comes up and we still don’t wanna stagger home
Aimz with the Darcinator on Darcy Crisis in the main event of Untouchable, right before Crisis proposes to her, to receive a kick in the groin that in their twisted world meant “yes”.
Then it’s the memory of our betters
That are keeping us on our feet
Triangles 2006: elevated Decree off the cage wall by Ellis Nash on Seymour Almasy; AgentDash with a huge bulldog on Johnny Lexicon; Jack Murphy’s Fall From Grace driving Darcy Crisis headfirst onto Pierce Lavelle’s body; Garbage Bag Johnny with the ENORMOUS Tragically Hipbuster off the top of the structure and driving Crisis through the announcers’ table... and then Juggernaut Kintu dismantling the cage bracket by bracket, with the competitors still fighting inside... and then Smiley is held firm by half the roster for Mike Wade to TFW him one last time... and then Dr. Kasidy Drake:
“I want to KILL this pathetic little promotion... As of now, AWC is CLOSED!”
You spent the first five years trying to get with the plan
And the next five years trying to be with your friends again
Shots of the reunion show, to this day untelevised, AgentDash winning two belts from Jack Murphy, GBJ regaining the Transatlantic Championship from Darcy Crisis.
But then where are your friends tonight?
Where are your friends tonight?
Where are your friends tonight?
And now shots from backstage, before the show, on the orange couches and leather seats, roster and staff alike, sharing drinks, listening to music, telling jokes, hugging old friends.
If I could see all my friends tonight
If I could see all my friends tonight
If I could see all my friends tonight
If I could see all my friends tonight
Face-Eater: Hey. WHERE AM I?
Waters: Welcome to AWC Fresh! here in St. Louis, Miss—
Face-Eater: Wait, WHAT? I thought the show was in Albany this week.
Waters: The website was wrong. And not for the first time.
Face-Eater: Oh, it’s luckily I was here in St. Louis in business and just happened to be sitting at the announce table in the Scottrade Center, then. Otherwise I might’ve missed the show!
Waters: And it’s not a show you’d want to miss – the last edition of Fresh! before we move into supershow mode, Dick!
Face-Eater: I’m looking forward to calling a show with more than two frigging matches on it. Harber’s flying us round the country on his dime for this sh—
Waters: ...SHOW which promises to be, er, truly spectacular! We have two new names facing off in Christian Montiero and Jonathan Carcer, and then unbeaten records go head-to-head as Diego Foster takes on Bone!
Face-Eater: That match is already giving me a BONER.
Waters: You’re gonna be intolerable tonight, right?
Face-Eater: Right.
One Night Pass
AUTHOR: Hyde
Waters: But before any of that it looks like we’re going to get a little more on this whole Legends’ Lounge issue. Liam Martin went by the Lounge just before we went on air only to find that it’s been boarded up and taped off!
Face-Eater: Yeah, and that ain’t right ‘cause I went in to refuel not an hour ago and there were platters laid out and everything. Good thing I stocked up on avocados...
He opens his suspicious trenchcoat to reveal myriad pockets stitched into the lining, out of each one pokes a dark green fruit.
Face-Eater: I’m gonna make a KILLING on these babies tonight.
Waters: Looking past the issue of fresh avocados at gouging prices, it makes you wonder whether something fishy ain’t going on with the Lounge.
The glass of Darcy Markson’s office door almost shatters as Jack Murphy slams his huge hand into it. Markson’s eyes open wide and he unlatches the door, waving Murphy in. His eyes are like thunder.
Markson: Have a seat, Jack.
Murphy: No.
The curtness of Murphy’s reply causes the Live Events Coordinator to raise his eyebrows.
Murphy: What the hell’s going on, Darcy?
Markson: Well, I’m still trying to scramble together some matches for All Summer L—
Murphy slams his hands on the desk. A pencil jumps and clatters to the floor.
Murphy: With my Lounge!
Markson smiles, watching the Bull take heavy breaths. Eventually he points at the floor, not taking his eyes from Murphy’s.
Markson: You mind getting that? It’s the only one I have with an eraser on the end, you know...
Crisis trails off as Murphy drives his boot into the floor, splintering the pencil a hundred different ways.
Markson: Hey, I guess I can always pick up another.
Murphy: YOU did this.
Markson: I did... what, Jack?
Murphy: The Lounge. Give me the key, or I’ll knock the damn door off its hinges.
Markson: What – but then your little “meetings” wouldn’t be so private after all, Jack.
Markson rubs his temples with his fingertips.
Markson: We do apologise, Jack, that the Legends’ Lounge is unavailable for use tonight. Believe me, that sentiment comes right from the top. We invite you and all the other Legends here each week to use the facilities, and we’re deeply sorry that we can’t provide them tonight. Could I offer you a complimentary bottle of port?
Murphy: You can shove that complimentary bottle straight up your ass.
The Bull turns and slides the door open, but his words have brought Darcy to his feet, and his voice takes a harder edge.
Markson: Sit your ass down.
Murphy: Fuck off.
Markson: What did you say to me?
Murphy: I told you to fuck off. Till you open up the goddamn Lounge and let me do my job, that’s not gonna change.
Markson: Tell me, Jack. What is it that you do in there that’s so important... so private... so secret? You’re only a union boss, Jack. Only that. In the grand scheme of things—
Murphy shoves Crisis away.
Murphy: FUCK your grand scheme of things.
Crisis stumbles, hitting his elbow on the corner of the desk and wincing.
Markson: (rubbing his elbow) You know what, Jack... I’m this close.
Murphy: To what?
He spreads his arms wide.
Murphy: You want some, Darcy?
Markson: I told myself I wouldn’t. I promised everyone around me I wouldn’t. But you know what, Jack...
Markson fishes a pencil – eraserless – from his pocket, and scrawls a last addition to his booking sheet with a flourish.
Markson: You and me, Jack. All Summer Long. You down with that?
Murphy chuckles.
Murphy: You want to get the shit beat out of you, you got it. Hope you can borrow someone else’s spine for the night.
Markson: You know what, I’m already looking forward to this. And let’s put your precious Lounge on the line. You win the match, you can use that Lounge however you want without a word from me. I win—
Murphy: You win? Hahaha! You win, you name your price, Darcy, ‘cause it ain’t gonna happen. But one last thing. You made this about the Lounge, so let’s take this match to the Lounge too. I’ll give you a one-night pass into the place. You can see what you’re missing. You and me, in the company of Legends.
Markson scribbles on his sheet.
Markson: Done. Sign.
He slides the paper to Murphy, who signs, before breaking the pencil between just two strong fingers, with an audible crack.
Murphy: Hear that sound, Darcy? Remember it?
Markson looks away. He doesn’t want to be reminded how he’s made of glass.
Readings
AUTHOR: Jaakko Oksa
The scene opens up to Chase Harvey standing inside a lockerroom, his finger pressed to his ear in an apparent effort to hear through his singular earphone. He quickly snaps to attention, looking at the camera with a professional expression.
Harvey: Ladies and gentlemen, I am backstage with a contestant from the next scheduled bout, Mr. Jonathan Carcer. Mr. Carcer, on behalf of the whole of AWC, I would like to welcome you to the show here tonight.
The camera pans back a bit, revealing Jonathan Carcer standing next to the interviewer, his tanned figure cloaked by a robe with the hood pulled back. Carcer's lips are curled up into a smile and his right hand rests inside what appears to be a bowl of pebbles standing on top of a makeshift table, with an empty bowl next to it. Carcer nods to Harvey amiably and replies, with a hint of a German accent.
Carcer: Thank you. It pleases me greatly to be here.
Harvey: Your debut match is about to begin, against the TKO and XUW alumni Christian Montiero. Would you care to comment on your feelings going into this match tonight?
Carcer: Ah, your straightforwardness is refreshing. In fact, Christian Montiero is the reason why I requested to meet with you beforehand. I wanted a witness here tonight.
Chase Harvey looks a bit puzzled as Carcer holds up his hand, and with a flick of his wrist a photograph suddenly appears in it as if out of thin air. Turning it to the camera, we see that it is the official promo headshot of Christian Montiero, which Carcer proceeds to lay down between the two bowls on the table.
Harvey: Er, a witness to what, exactly?
Carcer: Why, me predicting the outcome of this little confrontation, of course. Dragging the prophetical truth out of the earth and the air. A geomantical reading of three figures, that will tell us the fate of myself and Mr. Montiero here.
Harvey: Um, wow. Now, how will you...
Carcer pays no heed to the amused interviewer, instead digging his taped hand into the bowl of pebbles and pulling out a fistful. He then proceeds to pour them through his fingers into the empty bowl, moving his hand in a spiraling motion as he silently mouths off words. Then, Carcer leans over the bowl, staring intently downward. After a moment of nothing happening, Chase Harvey peers closer as well, only to have Carcer snap his head back up, estabilishing direct eye contact.
Carcer: The first reading is done. Here, in the middle.
Carcer points at a cluster of pebbles in the middle of the bowl, carefully moving their apparently non-prophetic brethren to the sidelines. Harvey looks into the bowl for a moment, staring blankly, before Carcer speaks again.
Carcer: Fortuna Minor. The sign of 'Lesser Fortune'. The spirit of Sorath, the wisdom of Nakhiel and the power of the spine. This is a favorable omen, but nothing too extravagant. It means limited success, triumph in trivial matters: rather neutral, in fact.
Harvey: So... What you are saying, is that Christian Montiero is a trivial challenge?
Carcer: Now, I never said that, did I now?
With another crooked little smile, Carcer pours the pebbles back into the first bowl and pulls out another fistful, placing them down with the same incantation as before. Chase Harvey steals a few glances at the camera, not completely sold on the idea of the ritual, but keeping respectfully quiet nonetheless. Carcer is faster this time, again moving the rest of the pebbles away from a cluster of eight in the middle.
Carcer: Ah, now THIS, this is truly a favorable sign. Acquisito, 'Gain'. Spirit of Hismael, wisdom of Iophiel and the power of the hips and the thighs. An extremely positive sign. Not traditionally for the matters of men, such as warfare, but only a fool would scoff at a female figure. Acquiring recognition and fame, perhaps? Or respect?
Harvey: Well, I... I really don't know.
Carcer pours the pebbles back for the third and final reading. This time he works even faster, and doesn't even bother to separate the pebbles in the bowl, instead peering down into the bowl with an amused expression.
Carcer: Well, now. This is INTERESTING indeed.
Harvey peers into the bowl again, microphone close in hand, and then looks back up at the magician, his brow furrowed with slight concern.
Harvey: Err, to be quite frank, it's all looked like a mess of small rocks to me so far...
Carcer: Rubeus. 'Red'. Violence, lust, deception. The figure of the genitals, and of Graphiel and Bartzabel.
Carcer's voice grows quiet, but his smile seems to grow wider, and somehow more genuine.
Carcer: Now, I wonder how you would go about interpreting this?
Without uttering another word, Carcer pats Chase Harvey on the shoulder and moves past him. Harvey stares after the departing wrestler until we hear the slam of a closing door, and then looks back at the camera.
Harvey: Well... There you have it, straight from the... Bowls of Jonathan Carcer.
The camera fades back to the arena proper as Harvey peers into the reading bowl, poking the pebbles with his index finger.
Waters: What in the flying hell was all that about? I like the look of the kid, but holy shit.
Face-Eater: What's so hard to get about it? The dude knows magic! MAGIC!
Waters: I just think he's been dropped onto his head as a kid or something.
Face-Eater: Personally, I can't wait until he starts pulling rabbits out of his top-hat. That's always been my favorite.
Demands Denied
AUTHOR: J Christopher and Jon
Steve Harrison, in all his brilliance, walks triumphantly towards the door to Darcy Markson’s office. He pauses and pats his suit down in an attempt to get any wrinkles to go away. He smiles at himself seemingly approving his now wrinkle free suit and knocks on the door.
Before anyone can answer Steve walks into the office smiling and looking around the office as if it was his own office. Darcy looks up surprised at Harrison and sighs to himself.
Harrison: Ah Mr. Markson, I am so sorry I have not been able to grace you with my company before now.
Markson: Yea…
Harrison: I know, there is no need for introductions since everyone and their senile grandparents know of the greatness that is Steve Harrison.
Darcy rolls his eyes.
Markson: Sure.
Harrison nods
Harrison: Now I know you have watched as ratings have skyrocketed since I have become a regular fixture, correct?
Markson: Um…I believe….
Harrison interrupts him.
Harrison: No need to compliment me, I understand. You see I know you want entertainment and you, like me do not consider TA Giles entertaining in the least. He is more like a leech that tries to get over by stealing the spotlight from other people. It must really anger you that such a lowly peon holds such a prestigious title here in the AWC.
Markson: Well…
Harrison interrupts again.
Harrison: I know, but don’t worry. I have come with a proposition that will help both of us get what we want.
Markson: You see Steve…
Harrison interrupts once again.
Harrison: I know it is brilliant just listen… you give me a match against TA Giles so I can take that belt off him and you get rid of a boring champion. IT IS WIN-WIN, MY MAN!
Markson shakes his head his face looking very angry.
Markson: Now look you arrogant jack ass. If you had let me finish too begin this conversation I would have told you that I saw your match last week.
Harrison: What a win, huh?
Markson: No you pulled the tights so at All Summer Long there will be a rematch, VIP vs. YOU!
Markson points at Steve and Steve balls his fists up angrily.
Harrison: I DESERVE A TITLE SHOT!
Markson: I think he has something to say about that.
Harrison turns around and is looking at VIP. Harrison takes a step back putting his hands up as if saying he did not want any trouble.
VIP: Hi Hater!
VIP grins, making sure that all of his pearly whites are showing at this particular time. There's a reason why he made such a quiet entrance.
VIP: See, here's the thing, Chester Cheater. I don't have a problem with you beating me last week on Fresh. I don't even have a problem that you, well, to be perfectly honest, you didn't suck as bad as I thought you were gonna'. Kudos, by the way. But the one thing… and I mean the one thing… you don't do is cheat.
VIP holds up his hand, just to make sure Harrison doesn't start rambling again.
VIP: Me? I don't care that you cheated. I knew you were a hater from the moment you opened your mouth. So I figured you would. BUT! You deprived my P1s of seeing me, Van Isaac Pryce, kick. your. ass.
Harrison: You had your chance, homeboy. It's time for me to move on. There are bigger and better things that I must accomplish while blessing this horrible federation with my epic presence.
Van takes a menacing step forward. Harrison takes another step back. Just in case.
VIP: I don't think you understand. There WILL be a rematch at All Summer Long. Whether it's you and me, in the ring, by ourselves. Or if it's you and me, in the ring, after Notorious T.A.G. wipes the floor with you. Or if it's you and me, in the parking lot, when you finally decide to show your ugly mug in the building.
Harrison: Now see here, I will not tolerate these threats. I'm the--
VIP holds a hand up in Harrison's face.
VIP: SHUSH!
Somehow, the crowd's joining in the SHUSH! has Harrison off guard for a moment. He actually does Shush.
VIP: Darcy? Make the match, my man. I don't care what it is. Long as I get the chance to show my P1s how we really do it.
Markson: You got it, Pryce.
VIP gets right up in Harrison's face. His eyes narrow with a bit of fueled anger, but it is controlled. His hand clenches into a fist at his side.
VIP: Bye Hater.
VIP smiles and turns to leave the office.
Harrison watches him leave and then looks at Darcy.
Harrison: It is your fault.
Markson: What?
Harrison cracks his knuckles.
Harrison: What I do to him is on you, Darcy.
Harrison walks out of the office angrily and slams the door.
Christian Montiero vs Jonathan Carcer
CHAMPIONSHIP: None
STIPULATION: Singles Match
REFEREE: Selena Sumner
AUTHOR: Jon D
We have a debut match here tonight between Christian Montiero and Jonathan Carcer. Carcer has already made an impact for AWC by getting himself a JUST Championship shot at all summer long against Dash Springfield. Tonight Montiero is hoping to make his impact as the bell sounds and referee Selena Sumner signals them to begin.
Right off the bat Christian arm drags Carcer to the mat and attempts an arm bar as the technician attempts to ground the awkward offense of Carcer. It does not last long though as Carcer is a submission specialist and he rolls through the arm bar and grabs the legs of Montiero and begins striking the inside of Montiero’s legs with vicious leg strikes. He stands Montiero up and goes his version of an Enziguiri and his knee explodes against the side of Montiero’s face. Montiero staggers backwards and falls to both his knees. Carcer goes to kick Montiero again but Montiero rolls out of the way and then comes back with a belly to belly suplex and goes for a quick pin but only gets a two count.
Montiero has been able to use his strength advantage to keep Carcer down but a figure four attempt gets Carcer to the ropes. Carcer stands up and the two begin circling each other Carcer fakes a tie up and gets around Montiero’s back and then whips a spinning elbow to the side of Montiero’s head to begin the Trephination which leaves Montiero face down on the mat. Carcer goes for the pin but Montiero barely kicks out.
Carcer drags Montiero back up but before he can do anything Montiero begins swinging wild punches a few connect and Carcer backs up. Montiero sensing he has him where he wants him goes for one last punch but Carcer ducks and chops Montiero in the throat. Montiero bends down and tries to breathe which gives Carcer enough time to jump and connect with his finishing move the Byzantine Serpent, Montiero goes limp right away and begins yelling as he starts tapping on the mat. Selena calls the match and untangles the two as Carcer nods confidently to himself.
Jonathan Carcer has won his debut match making a great first impression. Hopefully Dash Springfield was paying attention.
Violent Switches
AUTHORS: Jon D and JC
The camera zooms in to a disturbance backstage. Steve Harrison is seen standing over the fallen body of Van Isaac Pryce. Steve is holding a chair and a smug grin stares down at VIP.
Harrison: I told you not to mess with me. This is my time to shine and I will not let you interfere in my plans.
Steve goes to swing the chair once more when suddenly something swoops down and begins pecking him on the nose. It is none other then Parrot of Perroquet, Steve Harrisons most hated avian creature. Steve swings his free hand at the Parrot but it flies away.
Harrison: WHAT THE HELL!
The Parrot swoops down again and pecks Steve on the neck.
Parrot: AWKKK...CHEATER...AWKKKK.
Steve growls and swings again at the Parrot but misses again.
Harrison: This is getting ridiculous who the hell let you out of your cage anyway?
Without Steve knowing VIP stands back up and is standing right behind Steve clenching his big right hand and ignoring the blood on his forehead. He taps Steve on the shoulder but Steve brushes it off angirly without turning around.
Harrison: Look I am trying to kill this flea ridden bird I can get you an autograph later you peasant.
VIP taps Steve on the shoulder again, Steve turns around his mouth drops in surprise.
Harrison: Oh...shit...
VIP nods.
VIP: Hi Hater!
BAM!
VIP punches Harrison across the face and then jumps on top of him and begins throwing wild rights and lefts as the Parrot flies overhead seemingly happy about what is happening.
VIP: See what happens when you mess with Philly The Kidd?! It's all about the birds, baby! Parrots! Eagles! It don't matter, boy!
Steve tries to cover up and just lies there. VIP laughs and stands up and stares down at Steve who is now in the fetal position groaning.
VIP: Class Dismissed.
VIP wipes the blood from his forehead, flings it down at Harrison and walks away.
Diego Foster vs Bone
CHAMPIONSHIP: None
STIPULATION: Singles
REFEREE: Lars Larsson
AUTHOR: Hyde
The conclusion of tonight’s Fresh! features two men with unspoilt records in AWC. But from the first bell, the contrast in quality cannot be more apparent. Diego Foster is all over Bone from the very beginning, firing furious shots that do not give him a chance to breathe. He whips Bone off the ropes and ducks under a punch to land his uranage backbreaker, an early high-impact move that draws a two-count.
Foster is unable to end the match this early, but his dominance continues and Bone can barely get a breather. The fans begin to get firmly behind the Prodigy, whose mix of athleticism and good technique produces an exciting and efficient package – notable especially when Foster follows a sequence of leg drags and a snapmare by hitting the ropes for a roaring elbow as Bone rises.
By now, the Transatlantic Championship contender is just baiting his opponent, and before long Bone finds himself locked hopelessly in for the Sit-out Tiger Driver. But with Bone helpless, Diego Foster isn’t finished. He looks out at the cheering crowd and picks Bone back up, nailing him with Garbage Bag Johnny’s own Tragically Hipbuster to send the defending champion a message ahead of their showdown at All Summer Long. After two devastating finishers, the three-count is academic.
- back to top -
