FEATURING: DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!, MIGUEL "THE MIDGET" RODRIGUEZ, HANS HEINEMANN
AUTHOR: PIERRE HYDE
Just the noise of a helicopter accompanies us as we travel on a hyper speed journey through Britain. From the snow-capped mountains and bottomless clear blue lakes of Scotland, over the startlingly beautiful interlocking spurs of Northumberland’s hillsides, passing over the wastelands of England’s industrial centre, Leeds, Sheffield, Manchester, and now west over the sea, into Ireland, all green fields and lifeless towns, now back across the channel and into Wales, Cardiff, Swansea, and south, to Cornwall and Devon and surfing and tin mining, swooping along the coast to beach resorts like Bournemouth and Eastbourne, up the east to the Norfolk Broads and the Wash, and now a beeline for London, the new Wembley Stadium, the London Eye, the Millennium Dome, Big Ben, Tower Bridge, Buckingham Palace, the Houses of Parliament – and Earl’s Court.
Inside, it’s mad. Pitch black. Screaming, cheering, whistling. Waiting. Waiting as the video feed ends. Waiting for the fireworks, the music, the strobe lights and the excitement.
Then.
Then the spacey beginnings of “Club Foot” break the silence. Kasabian’s grungy Leicester beats are just the excuse the fans need to break into spontaneous head shaking, body popping and beer throwing. In the words of the band themselves, they “play fucking quick music”. A typical gig incites plenty of bottle-throwing and mosh-pit headbutts, and any parents in the crowd begin to worry for their children’s safety. In the darkness of Earl’s Court, anything can happen.
One!
Take control of me
You’re messing with the enemy
Said it’s two!
It’s another trick
Messing with my mind
I wake up
Chase down an empty street
Blindly snap the broken beats
Said it’s gone with the dirty trick
It’s taken all these days to find you
Oosh!
I – I – I – I – I – I –
I tell you I want you
Oosh!
I – I – I – I – I – I –
I tell you I need you
A silver light bathes the empty stage, and the crowd roar is comparable to some of the loudest Earl’s Court has ever received. Muse, winners of the Best Live Act at last year’s Brit Awards, sold out this venue on two consecutive nights last December for the most raucous, exciting and LOUD concerts in recent memory. This is louder.
Friends take control of me
Stalking across the gallery
All these pills – got to operate
The colour quits and all invade us
There it goes again
Take me to the edge again
All I got is a dirty trick
Chasing down the walls to save you
Oosh!
I – I – I – I – I – I –
I tell you I want you
Oosh!
I – I – I – I – I – I –
I tell you I need you
Oosh!
I – I – I – I – I – I –
The blood ain’t on my face
I – I – I – I – I – I –
Just wanted you near me
Now it’s time. Pyros, strobes, action. 15,000 flashbulbs, one London, one AWC. This... is The Battle Of Britain.
Miguel Rodriguez: MY FUCKIN’ BEEG BOY IS ABOUT TO EEXPLODE!
Back to reality...
Hans Heinemann: Six huge matches are lined up as AWC aims for its best pay-per-view yet!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: And obviously it will be; it’s the first that we’ve commentated on, right, Miggy?
Miguel Rodriguez: It burns, it burns!
Hans Heinemann: The story of the night could well be The Educator’s. David “Pearl” Harber has put him in THREE matches tonight, and while the Entertainment Manager sees this as a punishment for the Livewire champion, I’ve heard from a source that Adam Masters is relishing the opportunity! He –
FEATURING: THE EDUCATOR
AUTHOR: LEON CRUISEY
"School of Hard Knocks" by POD begins to blast out over the PA system.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Is just about to tell us about it... damn.
Surprisingly, and perhaps for the first time in AWC history, this music is greeted by cheers from the fans.
Hans Heinemann: The Educator has never disguised the fact that he is English and it seems as though the Earl’s Court faithful appreciate it.
Then with the Livewire title around his waist and a microphone in hand, The Educator makes his way out from the back to even more cheers. He's wearing his trademark black suit with matching glasses. This time however, he has complemented them with a rather geeky and uncharacteristic Union Jack tie. He walks towards the ring, waving and smiling to the crowd as he goes.
The Educator enters the ring and pauses to stare at the crowd as shouts of "Edu-cator, Edu-cator, Edu-cator" fill the arena
The Educator: Thank you, thank you, you’re too kind.
The Educator takes a bow before continuing.
The Educator: It's refreshing to finally be around people who recognise talent.
The crowd cheer even louder as The Educator receives the biggest pop of his life.
The Educator: I used to come to this arena as a child to watch wrestling. Now here I am. Part of the show myself. And you know what?
The crowd suddenly become a lot quieter to hear what The Educator has to say.
The Educator: If you all got off your lazy asses then you might be able to actually achieve something in your pathetic lives yourselves!
There's a pause, then a gasp before the cheers suddenly turn into jeers.
The Educator: I'm sorry, I couldn't go on with that anymore. It took all my effort not to gag when I came out and saw you people!
The Educator then takes off the Union Jack tie and throws it into the crowd in disgust.
Hans Heinemann: That’s his story, huh.
The Educator: There you go, sell that on eBay and get enough money to move out of the piss pot you’re most likely living in now.
The Educator leans back laughing as a few people actually begin to fight for the tie.
The Educator: You people are a disgrace. I USED to be proud to be British. But this once great island has decayed into the state that it's in thanks to people like you.
The Educator points into the crowd as the boos begin to surround him.
The Educator: ...Ugly, ignorant, uneducated, bloodthirsty ruffians! I mean how much did you all pay for your tickets? Whatever it was you've been ripped off by Mr. Harber.
The Educator winces at the mention of the AWC owner.
The Educator: I mean, a Giant Haystacks Invitational? What the hell is that? Why does Giant Haystacks even deserve an invitational? Some of you may believe that Giant Haystacks is a legend to British wrestling... puhleeze! The only legend to ever come out of this country is the man you see before you.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: What a load of potatoes.
The Educator smiles to himself before continuing.
The Educator: To pay so much for so little, to see such a sub-standard promotion, bar me of course. But I'm afraid that even my great abilities cannot disguise the fact that you've actually PAID to watch the rest of this show. But, therein lies why Mr. Harber is a very smart man.
Miguel Rodriguez: ...What? I thought those two hated each other.
The Educator: See, Mr. Harber took a look at his piss-poor excuse for a federation and thought to himself "How can I actually MAKE some money this time?" The answer? By booking the biggest draw, the most intelligent man in sports entertainment, in three matches.
Large sections of the crowd begin to laugh. Surely The Educator couldn't see being booked in three matches as a positive?
The Educator: Ah you see, you, along with Mr. Harber, believe that wrestling in three matches in one night is a disadvantage, but not when the said wrestler is as fine a physical specimen as myself.
More of the crowd begin to laugh. For such a self-titled "intelligent" man, The Educator sure did come out with a lot of rubbish.
The Educator: Surely, Mr. Harber, you should know that a man as smart as I, and a man with this amount of stamina and strength, could wrestle in ten matches let alone a measly three.
Hans Heinemann: I suppose he could...
The Educator: But that of course, is your flaw Mr. Harber. For every smart idea you have, it's usually followed by a multitude of idiotic ones. Take wrestling in London for example, a city dirtier than Kris Krimzon's underpants after being thrown off that roof!
The Educator doubles over and begins to laugh hysterically as every inch of Earl’s Court begins to shout abuse towards The Educator.
The Educator: Which brings me onto another point...
The Educator says before wiping a tear from his eye.
The Educator: ...We all know that Mr. Sake and Mr. Krimzon will not be joining us this evening, no matter what Mr. Harber says. My original plan was for him to lose money through all the refunds he'd have to give to you people but, frankly, I no longer believe you people deserve it. You'd only spend the money on something equally as inane, although I would suggest plastic surgery for most of you.
The Educator begins to laugh again as do some of the crowd, but neither are loud enough to drown out the rest of the crowd's boos.
The Educator: But no matter. Because I will have my revenge either way Mr. Harber. Because tonight will forever be known as The Educator's show. After tonight, when I am finally rid of two dead-weights in Mr. Sake and Mr. Krimzon, and gain two belts in return, I expect the first person to congratulate me to be you Mr. Harber.
The Educator then drops the microphone and blows a kiss to the crowd and is met with a chorus of boos as "School Of Hard Knocks" plays out The Educator's exit.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: We’ll just see about that, Educator.
Miguel Rodriguez: That man is a FOOL!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: He shouldn’t count his chickens before they hatch.
Hans Heinemann: Did you just get a saying RIGHT?
FEATURING: THE FURIOUS FISTS OF GOD, SARAH KENNEDY
AUTHOR: SAM LANDRY
The scene opens in a corridor in the backstage of the arena. Tim and Liam Martin are walking, towels draped over their shoulders. They are in their full wrestling gear as well, and they seem to be heading for their match. As they are walking they are stopped by…
Sarah Kennedy: Tim and Liam, can I get a quick interview.
The two stop for a minute as Sarah approaches them, dressed in a sort-of-revealing dress that makes her look beautiful. Liam sticks out his hand and starts shaking his head, though.
Liam Martin: *angrily* We don’t speak with whores, get out of our way!
Tim Martin: No, wait Liam!... this is that white-Lord loving Sarah Kennedy… I think we can give her a minute of our time!
Sarah Kennedy: (sort of confused) Um… err… hi, Sarah Kennedy here with Tim and Liam Martin of The Furious Fists of God, the new and talented young duo. How are you guys feeling tonight?
Tim Martin: Oh, the White Lord is in us tonight… I knew that he’d be here ever since this morning. I got out of bed, said my prayers, and I could FEEL him giving me power, giving me strength. You’re going to see a different Tim and Liam Martin tonight.
Liam Martin: …those fools we’re fighting better pray that the White Lord strikes them down before they get to the ring.
Sarah Kennedy: Um… speaking of which, your match tonight! You’re facing Bloodlines, Rainbow Flag, and Team Super Evil in a number one contenders match for the Alliance titles. What—
Liam rips the microphone out of Sarah’s hands; she has a shocked look on her face. Liam sort of pushes Sarah aside and jumps in front of the camera.
Liam Martin: I have something to say about those fucks… no, the White Lord has something to say about them! Tim and I are facing some of the most foul, demon-bred dregs to ever walk this earth! First, we have Bloodlines, which has a White Rat and some Asian scum teaming together. The White Lord didn’t bless us so we could spoil those Playstation-2-making freaks with his power, damn it! Then, we have Team Super Evil, the results of post-radiation. I’ve never seen so many god damn foreign rats given opportunities to steal OUR money before in my life… I pray to the White Lord that this be their last match. And, finally, those cock-gobbling, pussy-fearing homos, Rainbow Flag…
Sarah Kennedy: Don’t say that! You’re offending people!
Liam Martin: (angrily) First off, this is a pay-per-view, whore, so I can say whatever the fuck I want… so fuck you! Second, the only people I’m “offending” are those who offend our White Lord to begin with… so don’t feel sorry for them!
Sarah Kennedy storms off, shaking her head and muttering something about how rude and insensible they are.
Liam Martin: (yelling) THAT’S RIGHT! RUN OFF TO YOUR BROTHEL! SELL YOUR BODY TO THE DEVIL, SKANK!... anyways, Rainbow Flag… let’s just say… facing them will be a treat… and an exhibition of the White Lord’s power and how he strikes down those scrubs!
Tim Martin: May God have mercy on your souls!
The two walk past the camera and down the hallway, the scene fading out watching them walk.
BLOODLINES VS RAINBOW FLAG VS TEAM SUPER EVIL VS THE FURIOUS FISTS OF GOD
STIPULATION: BATTLE ROYAL - #1 CONTENDERSHIP TO ALLIANCE TITLES
REFEREE: MICHAEL RYAN
AUTHOR: MICHAEL DOHERTY
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Woo hoo! We’re about to kick off the Battle of Britain with our first match – I’m so excited!
Miguel Rodriguez: I’m so excited I just can’t hide it
Miggy pulls out his beeg boy for all to see
Hans Heinemann: Yes, literally. Anyway this match is an 8-man battle royal. The eight wrestlers fight it out and the last man left standing has a shot with his team at the Alliance championship on Fresh!.
"That's the Way Love Goes" by Janet Jackson begins to play and the crowd boos as the arena becomes suddenly bathed in rainbow lights. Sam and Pat prance out onto the stage hand-in-hand, look each other in the eye and engage in a long French kiss gaining more booing from the crowd as rainbow pyros go off and a huge rainbow flag unfurls from the rafters completely blocking the view of the set.
James Brunt: Introducing first, from Leetown, Missouri... Sam and Pat, RAINBOW FLAG!
The Flag skips to the ring.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: There’s something queer about those two you know.
Miguel Rodriguez: Well at least they’re gay with being queer.
Hans Heinemann: Sigh. These two are actually good technical wrestlers with impressive amateur records. Pity they’re homos…
“Dybbuk” by Gackt begins to boom now from the speakers and the fans get on their feet to welcome one of AWC’s newest tag teams, Team Super Evil. The duo of Gakuto and Tamura come out onto the stage and pull a pose much to the fans’ enjoyment. The two make their way to the ring to a chorus of cheers.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: They seem popular.
James Brunt: And from Osaka, Japan, at a combined weight of 383 pounds… Shinji ‘Gakuto’ Akima and Kafka Tamura… TEAM SUPER EVIL!
Suddenly a religious song begins to boom from the speakers and Liam and Tim Martin come out. The crowd go absolutely ballistic as they boo the racist duo. The two simply ignore the crowd and walk down to the ring.
Miguel Rodriguez: I hate those guys…
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: I’m guessing they hate me.
Hans Heinemann: Well they can’t hate me. I’m a German, one of the master race. Hail Hans!
James Brunt: Their opponents, from Boston, Massachusetts, at a combined weight of 607 pounds…Tim and Liam Martin, THE FURIOUS FISTS OF GOD!
“Vitamin R” by Chevelle begins to play and Ami Mizuno and Joshua Curtis come out to a decent reception from the crowd. The two wave and make their way to the ring.
James Brunt: Finally, from London, England and Tokyo, Japan respectively, at a combined weight of 360 pounds… Joshua Curtis and Ami Mizuno, BLOODLINES!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: This English crowd are certainly giving the local boy Curtis a good welcome. POTATOES!
Hans Heinemann: Bah! What do they know? Those two are brother and sister? I’ve seen a dog and a horse look more alike.
Miguel Rodriguez: Ami Mizuno makes my beeg boy feel tingly and warm…
The two climb up onto the ring apron together and both are entering the ring when they are attacked without warning. Liam and Tim Martin soon begin to throw punches into Mizuno’s face whilst Rainbow Flag concentrate their efforts on Joshua. This is welcomed with a chorus of jeers. Even Team Super Evil get into the action and both of them also begin to attack Curtis.
Hans Heinemann: Smart tactics by those three teams… eliminate the competition early.
Miguel Rodriguez: It’s not fair! Two guys are beating on Ami and FOUR on Curtis!
Liam Martin picks Mizuno up and puts her on her feet as Rainbow Flag lift Curtis up. Tim Martin then lifts Mizuno up with the help of Tim and delivers the Lord’s Wish. The sound of Mizuno’s neck snapping off Tim Martin’s shoulder is sickening. At the same time, Sam and Pat throw Curtis into the ropes and when they return, they hit a Wave 7. The double clothesline form hell causes Curtis to flip over onto his back. He lays there lifeless.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: CHRIST ON A CROSS! The siblings of Bloodlines have just been decimated in the middle of the ring!
Miguel Rodriguez: NOOOOOO! My poor Ami!
Liam drops to his knees and covers Ami, just as Sam does the same. The referee falls to his knees and begins a double count.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Both members of Bloodlines have just been eliminated!
Hans Heinemann: Well that didn’t last long.
Miguel Rodriguez: …maybe I should check on Ami. Heh.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Goddamnit Miggy! That thing’s poking me! GUINNESS!
Sam and Pat both roll the duo of Bloodlines out of the ring with their feet. Once they do this the three remaining teams turn around to face each other. Rainbow Flag begin to side step around side by side looking from one team to the other. Suddenly Sam nods at Liam and both Rainbow Flag and TFFOG run at TSE. Liam tackles Gakuto to the floor and immediately Tim kicks him sternly in the ribs. Sam mean while has Tamura held up by each arm while Pat delivers a flurry of punches to his midsection and chin.
Hans Heinemann: Do you reckon these two duos had a plan formulated?
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Bloody cheats! Let’s see what they do when they end up facing each other!
Liam now throws Gakuto off the ropes but he reverses it. Liam however grabs the top rope and then slides out of the ring as Gakuto runs to follow up. He stops at the ropes then turns around just as Tim as running at him with an intended clothesline. Gakuto however is quick off his feet and he flips Tim over the ropes and on top of Liam. Gakuto wastes little time. He runs off the opposite ropes, returns and then jumps through the ropes, catching both members of TFFOG with a body splash, much to the crowd’s appreciation.
Miguel Rodriguez: The little man has got the Furious Fists’ number. Viva La Midgets!
Hans Heinemann: Nah! I’ll just be big thank you.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: I’ll second that.
Miguel throws Dave a dirty look.
Miguel Rodriguez: (whispers) I thought we were friends.
Dave can only look back with a guilty expression.
Meanwhile Sam and Pat are still working on the 6-foot Tamura. The pair are busy stomping a hole in Tamura in a corner. Sam drops down and applies a half Boston crab on Tamura while Pat applies a backbreaker. Tamura however quickly grabs the bottom rope and the referee orders them to separate. The duo waits until four before letting go causing a writhing Tamura to shout in agony. As Tamura is getting to his feet, Sam kicks him in the ribs and Pat applies an armbar quickly. This is aggravated by a dropkick by Sam to Tamura’s shoulder.
Hans Heinemann: Good work here form these two amateur supremists. They are working as a team to break Tamura’s shoulder down. He may be big but he’ll be useless with only one arm.
Miguel Rodriguez: They couldn’t weaken me down like that. Even if I had one arm, my beeg boy would join in for the show. We’re a team unit here.
Pat suddenly releases the arm bar and goes for a clothesline but Tamura ducks it and comes back up with a devastating uppercut. Gakuto slides back into the ring and spears Sam out of nowhere just as he is about to tackle Tamura. TFFOG are meanwhile only getting to their feet outside the ring. The duo of Team Super Evil now begin an assault on Sam and Pat. Tamura kicks Sam in the gut and immediately hits an Implant DDT. At the same time, Gakuto jumps into the air and pulls Pat’s body around with a hurricanrana. Tamura runs over to the fallen Pat and holds him rigid on the mat. Gakuto runs to the turnbuckle, climbs it and jumps off, connecting with an athletic frog splash. Gakuto rolls off in pain so Tamura falls for the pin.
ONE!
TWO!
THR-
Sam is on his feet and breaks up the count with a stomp. Gakuto however is back on his feet and he punches Sam. Tamura climbs to his feet and he takes over, throwing haymakers, forcing Sam over to the ropes. Tamura goes for a clothesline and connects but Sam holds onto him and pulls him over the top rope with him to the outside.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Look who’s left in the ring! Gakuto and Pat who is still reeling from that frog splash.
Hans Heinemann: This clusterfuck may get somewhere now.
Gakuto sees that Pat is still out and he smiles to the crowd. He now climbs the top rope once again and salutes to the crowd. He jumps off once again and connects with Pat’s body with a Swanton bomb. Gakuto jumps to his feet and goes ballistic with his successful connection.
Hans Heinemann: You idiot! Make the pin! That’s how you win this match.
Gakuto turns around with the intention of pinning Pat but instead stops dead in his tracks as he sees Liam and Tim Martin standing before him smiling. Liam punches Gakuto before he can react then throws him off the rope as he’s coming back, Tim hits him with a devastating punch – the Fist of God. Gakuto falls down instantaneously, shaking as he does so. Tim and Liam now pin both fallen men at the same time.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Gakuto of Team Super Evil and Pat of Rainbow Flag have now been eliminated!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: This match is certainly moving along at a nice pace.
Hans Heinemann: That’s because the writer’s a hung-over, lazy motherfucker.
Miguel Rodriguez: …
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: …
Hans Heinemann: Never mind.
There are now four competitors left – Sam of Rainbow Flag, Tamura of Team Super Evil and both members of TFFOG. Liam and Tim Martin now stand in the middle of the ring and let the other two competitors fight it out outside the ring.
Hans Heinemann: Good tactics there by the Martins. They’re letting their opponents beat the hell out of each other leaving easy pickings later on.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Bloody cowards is what they are. FECKERS!
Miguel Rodriguez: Agreed. Beeg boy is not impressed.
Tamura at the minute is punching Sam up against the barrier. The fans seems to be getting in on the act now too as a few fans begin hitting Sam with their boards. Tamura now throws Sam into the steel steps but Sam reverses it and instead Tamura hits it shoulder first. Sam now begins stomping a hole in Tamura as the crowd jeer at him. Sam looks under the ring and pulls out a steel chair. He raises it over his head but the ref, from inside the ring reaching over the ropes, grabs the chair and tugs it off him. Sam won’t let go however and the referee has to pull it firmly making the chair jerk free and fall into the ring beside Liam Martin.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Uh oh! You don’t want to put an idea like that in his head.
Tim sees the plan and he swings the referee around and begins to distract him by complaining about the rope tension much to the referee’s bewilderment. Liam climbs out of the ring, steel chair in hand and sneaks up behind Sam. Just as Sam is picking Tamura up however, Liam swings the chair and bends the chair over Sam’s head. He falls against the ring apron so Liam gives him a push into the ring. Tim sees the weakened Sam and pulls him to his feet. Tim now runs off the opposite rope and on his way back, hits the dazed Sam with the White Light of God – a devastating chinbuster. Sam spurts blood from his mouth just before he drops to the ground. Tim is quick on him for the cover.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Sam of Rainbow Flag has been eliminated.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: And there goes Rainbow Flag’s dream of an Alliance title shot.
Miguel Rodriguez: They wrestled well –
Hans Heinemann: But The Furious Fists’ excellent tactics were too much for them. Now the Furious Fists, now they would be a model set of champions.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Yeah, I can see it now! Refusing to defend their belts against blacks, Asians, Irish. That means they’ll fight… no one.
Hans Heinemann: I know! It’s ingenious!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Sigh.
Liam is still on the outside with a floored Tamura now. Liam raises the chair above his head but Tamura swipes Liam with his powerful legs and Liam falls down. Tamura jumps to his feet and performs a leg drop on the back of Liam’s neck just as he’s rising up. Tamura now grabs Liam’s midsection and hits a gut wrench suplex which causes considerable damage to Liam. Tim now sees the action outside and runs in the ring. However, his attempt at a baseball slide is sidestepped by Tamura who hits Tim with an elbow through the ropes.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Look at Tamura go. He’s holding his own against these two racists… I’m sure they don’t like Japanese anyway.
Miguel Rodriguez: How could they? I love their food!
Hans Heinemann: That’s Chinese Miggy you idiot.
Tamura slides into the ring and begins to work on the rising Tim Martin. Tim attempts a rising clothesline but Tamura ducks and instead catches and executes a snap belly-to-belly suplex. Liam slides into the ring but is only on his feet a split second before he’s put back down with a spinebuster. Tamura jumps to his feet and stomps ballistically at the mat to try and get the crowd behind him.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Tamura knows if he’s going to beat two men, he’s going to need a little help.
Miguel Rodriguez: My beeg boy is game!
Tamura turns to Tim once again but just as Tim’s rising, he low blows Tamura. Tamura stays on his feet holding his crotch but he turns around just as Liam’s coming off the ropes and is hit with the Fist of God. Tamura falls to the mat in a heap.
Hans Heinemann: And that’s going to be all she wrote!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: They can’t end it like this!
Miguel Rodriguez: Yeah! Tamura’s going to be robbed.
Liam falls down for the cover.
ONE!
TWO!
THR-
Tamura kicks out!
Hans Heinemann: What the hell?
Miguel Rodriguez: That Japanese powerhouse just kicked out of the Fist of God! God is going to need a new finisher people.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: It’s resilience! Tamura is standing up to these racist bastards.
Hans Heinemann: Well he should have just laid down because Liam and Tim just look ANGRY now!
Hans is right. The shocked expressions of the Martins have just changed to determined and angry ones. They both pick up Tamura to his feet. He can barely stand so Tim holds him up. Tim now swings behind Tamura and lifts him up executing a 6 Feet Under.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Surely this will be enough!
Tim pins Tamura.
ONE!
TWO!
THR-
Tamura kicks out!
Hans Heinemann: What are they feeding that boy? I want some!
Miguel Rodriguez: Holy hell. Look at Tim! He looks like he wants to eat Tamura!
Liam himself is stomping in the ring like a child. He grabs Tamura’s hair and pulls him to his feet by his locks. Liam immediately puts Tamura’s head between his legs, hoists him up in powerbomb position but instead hits a Biblical Bomb, maintaining the pin.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Well…what can I say? Hardly the most honourable tactics out there.
Hans Heinemann: Yeah but they got the job done and that’s most important.
James Brunt: The winners, and new number one contenders to the Alliance championship... THE FURIOUS FISTS OF GOD!
Miguel Rodriguez: Poor Tamura put up quite a fight though. And look, the paramedics are coming out to help him.
Indeed, four paramedics are coming out with a stretcher to assist the motionless Tamura. They slide into the ring and after doing a few basic tests, hoist him onto the stretcher and begin to work on strapping him in and moving him out.
Hans Heinemann: So The Furious Fists Of God fight Emerald Isle II at Fresh! for the Alliance titles. Hope they take them off those no good gypsies.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: No. Paddy is a gypsy and The Farmer is a (guess what) farmer.
Hans Heinemann rolls his eyes.
FEATURING: RED ROCK, BOOLIE, JAMIE SHOCK (UWF)
AUTHOR: JOSH YOUNG
The scene cuts backstage to a corridor along the locker room area. Red Rock and Boolie walk on to the scene dressed in casual clothes. Red Rock holds his sports bag in his right hand and Boolie has a small backpack on. Red Rock arrives at the door of his locker room and to his shock and surprise the words “UWF SCUM” has been scratched in to the paintwork. Red Rock's facial expression morphs from a face of normality to an expression that says this act has touched a nerve.
Red Rock: Oh...
Boolie: That's well gay!
Red Rock: Bloody hell, I knew this would happen the minute that loon Varga turned up here.
Red Rock sighs and shakes his head and pushes the door of his locker room open
Red Rock: Oh... FUCKING BASTARDS!
Red Rock looks around his locker room to find it trashed with tables overturned and plants smashed and over on the wall opposite to Red Rock a sign reads in big clear letters “UWF OUT”.
Red Rock: What tha’ dickens is this?! UWF out?
Boolie: Look over there they wrote “Boolie is a knob”.
Red Rock: Oh that was me, because you are!
Boolie: Oh!
Red Rock: I only went round the corner for five minutes! Is this what it's going to be like?
Red Rock sits down on a bench, which has a broken wooden beam across it. Red Rock groans and buries his head in his hands.
Voice: HEY you!
Suddenly Red Rock hears a familiar voice; he looks up and right in front of his eyes he sees the UWF World Heavyweight championship. Red Rock slowly looks up and sighs.
Red Rock: Jamie Shock? What are you doing here?
Jamie Shock doesn't reply and lashes out at Red Rock, he violently grabs him by his shirt and hauls him to his feet and throws him across the room making Red Rock fall down on the floor.
Red Rock: JAMIE?! What the FUCK?
Jamie Shock strides over to Red Rock and grabs another handful of Red Rock's shirt and pulls Red Rock so he is face to face with Red Rock.
Jamie Shock: Listen up you fucking shit! Before this whole AWC/UWF thing kicks off I just want to make this VERY clear! You better decide where your loyalty lies! OK?
Red Rock: Err.. .
Shock bounces Red Rock's head off the wall before he can reply.
Jamie Shock: I hope this is bloody clear enough!
Jamie Shock releases Red Rock and walk out of the room as Boolie stands looking very shocked before running to Red Rock's aid.
Jamie Shock: TWAT.
STIPULATION: THREE WAY FURY
REFEREE: LARS LARSSON
AUTHOR: LARA CLARKE
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: A first title defence for The Educator tonight.
Miguel Rodriguez: This will be an interesting match. All three of these men have a heated past together.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: That’s true.
Hans Heinemann: And we are about to kick things off. We didn’t even think this match would ever happen, but it seems Pearl’s managed to get Sake out of prison and Krimzon out of hospital. Remarkably, Krimzon doesn’t look too bad for wear despite falling through a car.
James Brunt climbs into the ring, dressed in a daring suit, as always. This one features a UK flag.
James Brunt: The following is a Three Way Fury match for the Livewire championship.
“Summer of 69” by Bryan Adams blares out of the speakers around the Earl’s Court arena. Jonny Sake walks from behind the curtains and gets a heated reaction from the fans – he laughs and watches as a couple of pyrotechnics go off for special effect.
Miguel Rodriguez: He got new music!
Hans Heinemann: A lot of boos for this man.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: I think I’ll switch me Irish accent to a more English one… Any preferences?
Hans Heinemann: How about sign language!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: (raises his middle finger)
Hans Heinemann: Funny…
James Brunt: Introducing first, from Manhattan, New York, weighing in at 346 pounds... JONNY SAKE!
The fans continue to boo as Jonny Sake slides into the ring, shakes his shoulders and gets into a fighting stance as he awaits the next challenger for the Livewire title.
Miguel Rodriguez: Jonny Sake is now in the ring, I wonder if we’ll see some double-teaming tonight.
Hans Heinemann: I can’t hear you over the fans… speak up Miguel!
Miguel Rodriguez: I SAY… I WONDER IF THERE WILL BE A DOUBLE-TEAM!
Hans Heinemann: I doubt it, they all hate each other now. I know, it’s confusing.
Miguel Rodriguez: There was lots of double-teaming in my bed last night...
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: *waving his hands in a sign of cuckoo (mad)! *
“Ohio Is For Lovers” by Hawthorne Heights blasts out of the speakers as Bryan Adams’ song ends. The fans erupt into cheers as Kris Krimzon comes marching down the ramp, followed by a spectacle of flashing lights and some pyrotechnics.
James Brunt: And his opponent, from St. Louis, Missouri, weighing in at 230 pounds... KRIS KRIMZON!
Kris Krimzon receives an elevation of cheers, but a tiny amount of boos can be heard coming from a group of men wearing “The Educator” t-shirts. Krimzon smiles, ignores them and slides into the ring.
Hans Heinemann: Well, now we have two challengers, bring out the champion.
Miguel Rodriguez: Oh, The Educator is actually from England… I bet he’ll get the best reaction yet.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Why? Just cause he’s English? Well, that’s not fair, is it?
Hans Heinemann: Life’s not fair, Dave!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Quite the pessimist aren’t we!
Hans Heinemann: Oh, shut up and commentate.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: HUUUUUUGE POTATO.
Miguel Rodriguez: Why are you speaking with a Newcastle accent?
Hans Heinemann: It’s called a Geordie accent...
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Thought it might be fun!
POD’s “School of Hard Knocks” crackles against the sound system, the fans in Earl’s Court remain quiet as a few dazzling light effects circle the arena. The Educator comes from behind the black curtain, brandishing the Livewire title over his shoulder, kissing it as he moves slowly to the ring. The fans immediately boo the wrestler from Surrey.
James Brunt: Finally, from Surrey, England, weighing in at 220 pounds... he is the Livewire champion... THE EDUCATOR!
More mixed boos and cheers follow and some “ED-U-CATOR!” chants begin. The Educator climbs into the ring, unhooks the belt and hands it to referee Lars Larsson. Jonny Sake and Krimzon now slide into the ring too. All three men eye one another.
Miguel Rodriguez: You could cut the tension with a knife.
Hans Heinemann: I would not want to be in Larsson’s boots right now.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Cabbage crates over Blighty! What, what, I do say, golly gosh!
Hans Heinemann: What was that gibberish?
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Well, I thought it fit to switch to an old British accent, like in the original Battle of Britain… makes it seem more real. The “cabbage crates” at the start was a little old saying amongst RAF pilots and bombing brigades. It means, in layman’s terms – German planes over England.
Miguel Rodriguez: How do you KNOW this?
Hans Heinemann: I resent the fact you chose GERMAN PLANES.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Why? It was after all the Germans that bombed England. Was it not?
Hans Heinemann: (quietens) Yes… we don’t talk about that.
Miguel Rodriguez: Hans is not a Nazi!
Jonny Sake pushes Kris Krimzon roughly, and The Educator seems to enjoy the quarrel between the two challengers. Suddenly Krimzon erupts and takes Sake down with a vicious clothesline. Lars Larsson calls for the bell and the match gets underway. Krimzon turns around to face Educator, Krimzon charges, using all of his momentum connects with an Impaler (bubba cutter). Educator hits the mat; by this stage Jonny Sake is up. Krimzon and Sake lock eye-to-eye. Sake throws a few discouraging words, but they seem to have no effect. Krimzon with the help of the fans begins to discourage Sake. Sake becomes livid, and stomps his feet.
Krimzon tries a tie-up, but Sake reverses and connects with an airplane toss. Krimzon lands hard and out flat. Sake is about to pin Krimzon, when Educator come up from behind and delivers a reverse suplex. Sake doesn’t realise what’s going on and Educator executes the move perfectly.
Miguel Rodriguez: This match is intense, we’ve already seen an airplane toss, a Bubba cutter and now, well, the simple move, but effective, reverse suplex.
Hans Heinemann: And, the pin… wonderbar.
The Educator lifts up Sake’s leg and drapes across Sake’s chest. Larsson kneels down for the count.
ONE!
Krimzon dives in on top of Educator, clipping Educator’s head with his knee. Larsson breaks the count and watches as blood drips from Educator’s nose. Krimzon is up, and on the attack immediately. Krimzon grabs Educator and hoists him up onto his feet. Krimzon Irish-whips The Educator into the ropes. Sake is up and moves into the path of Educator. Both men collide. Krimzon is left standing and confused.
Miguel Rodriguez: Replay that. That is something you don’t see everyday.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Aye, that was bloody brilliant.
Hans Heinemann: I never thought I’d say this (shakes head), but I want the ol’ Doooooblin Dave back!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Old? Humph! I’m young, just the beer and cigarettes that makes me look older than I am.
Miguel Rodriguez: Denial!
Krimzon looks around and takes a few moments to catch his breath. Sake and The Educator are beginning to stir, both shaking their heads to clear the cobwebs. The Educator is up first and Krimzon is immediately alert. Krimzon goes for a grapple with Educator, Educator Irish-whips him. Krimzon ducks Sake’s attempt at a clothesline and leapfrogs Sake’s back and connects with a hurricanrana on The Educator. Sake looks on, confused. Krimzon rolls over and tries for the pin.
Hans Heinemann: The agility of an ‘injured’ Krimzon. Leapfrog into a hurricanrana.
ONE!
Sake clips the back of Krimzon’s head and sends Krimzon over the top ropes to the floor below with an Irish whip followed by a clothesline. The Educator is up and smirks as he watches Sake turn around; Sake delivers some quick, furious punches to Educator’s chest, Educator seems to tighten with each punch and out of nowhere takes Sake down with a DDT. Sake collides with the mat. Educator grapples Sake and picks him up into a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker.
ONE!
TWO!
Krimzon flies off of the top rope with a 450 splash! He clips Educator and lands against Sake. All three men lie out flat.
Miguel Rodriguez: Whoa, what a move. I wasn’t expecting that.
Hans Heinemann: A two count for Educator, who met the fate of a 450 splash from Krimzon, breaking up the pin.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Larsson beginning the count, erm, right?
Lars Larsson begins to count.
1
2
3
4
5
6
Jonny Sake raises his body off the mat with a little help from ropes one and two. Krimzon begins to stir, as does The Educator. Sake and The Educator suddenly seem to agree on something and for some strange reason Krimzon begins to back away. The Educator and Sake come at Krimzon strong, with a double clothesline, Krimzon ducks and runs against the ropes and performs a missile dropkick to Sake. The Educator runs off the ropes and both he and Krimzon end up over the top rope and hit the mat.
The Educator is up quickly and Irish-whips Krimzon into the barricade.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: That barricade must get more action than you Hans!
Hans Heinemann: Why I ought to…
Hans stands up and attempts to slap Dave.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Erm, POTATOES!
Miguel Rodriguez: (cough) Educator and Krimzon on the outside.
Jonny Sake sees the two men on the outside. Educator has now sent Krimzon flying into the steel steps. Jonny Sake runs past Larsson, and jumps through the second and third rope and hit’s The Educator with a flying headbutt.
The fans are constantly booing as Sake and Educator lie out flat. Krimzon slowly rises to his feet and gets a couple of cheers from the surrounding fans. He slides into the ring to break the count. Jonny Sake is rising to his feet slowly, taking a couple of nice comments from surrounding fans. Sake sees Krimzon in the ring and follows. Krimzon grabs Sake, in his wobbly state, and sends him into the turnbuckle. Krimzon tries to hit the 10-punch, but Sake reverses and delivers a powerbomb to Krimzon. Sake lands on Krimzon, in a not so appealing position. Referee Lars Larsson counts:
ONE!
TWO!
THR-
Hans Heinemann: Close!
The Educator flies into the ring, a little dazed, and yanks Sake off Krimzon; breaking-up the pin. Krimzon rolls to a corner and takes a breather. The Educator shoves Sake roughly in the shoulder, Sake responds with his own shove. Both men shove one another back and forth, when suddenly Sake lunges at Educator and drives him back with a shoulder push. Educator runs to the other side of the ring, and attempts a clothesline, Sake ducks, but isn’t quick enough, Educator grabs the back of Sake’s hair and connects with a backbreaker. The Educator attempts to kneel down for a pin, when Krimzon knees him in the face, again. Krimzon runs against the ropes and performs a running leg drop on top of Educator. Sake is up, and a little more focused.
Hans Heinemann: This match is fairly equal.
Miguel Rodriguez: Reminds me of tennis, ball goes back and forth. In fact, my beeg boy...
Rodriguez trails off.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: (points at Sake) How’s he up so fast! Steroids…
Sake applies the full nelson on Krimzon and waits for Krimzon to rise again. Sake then applies the iron claw. Krimzon looks in shock as Sake takes momentum and tightens the grip. Krimzon grabs a rope and gasps. Sake refuses Larsson’s wishes and connects with a belly-to-belly on Krimzon.
Hans Heinemann: Harsh belly-to-belly suplex.
Sake, whilst running towards Krimzon is met with a blow to his gut, he reels, stumbles and falls against the ropes. Educator comes up, a smile on his face and he soon frog leaps Sake’s back, turns and grabs Sake’s head, pulling it into a guillotine onto the third rope. Educator, meanwhile, lands on his two feet and slides into the ring. Sake bounces backwards and falls, gasping for air. While Larsson checks on Sake, Educator removes the padding on the turnbuckle. Krimzon grips Educator’s tights, but Educator shoves him off and is greeted by a mass amount of boos. Sake rises and with the help of Larsson gets to his feet.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Ooh, Educator takes the padding off the turnbuckle. That looks dangerous.
The Educator throws the three pads to the outside and turns his attention to Krimzon. Krimzon and The Educator tie up, The Educator attempts an Irish whip, instead it backfires and Krimzon whips Educator right into Larsson, who is sent hurtling into the turnbuckle – the one without the padding. Larsson’s forehead is cut open.
Hans Heinemann: Not quite what Educator intended!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Oh, blood, yuck, somebody should see to that.
Miguel Rodriguez: What now? The referee is probably concussed.
Educator realises what he just did and looks around. Sake and Krimzon are arguing. Educator slides out of the ring and routs around for something, anything to use. He pulls out a lid of a dustbin, a kendo stick, brass-knucks and a chair. He looks at his weaponry and chooses the kendo stick. Sake, meanwhile, has taken the upper hand and hits Krimzon with a DDT. Sake spots Educator on the outside and tries another flying headbutt. At the last minute, The Educator brandishes the kendo stick and wallops it against the head of Sake. Sake’s eyes roll back into his head as he lies motionless on the mat outside. Educator now switches weapons and chooses the steel chair.
Hans Heinemann: Somebody call a medic, I think Jonny Sake is out cold.
Miguel Rodriguez: So is Larsson, this match has gone to an all out brawl.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Always good to see some weapons. A lot more enjoyable, don’t you think?
Miguel Rodriguez: For a viewer, yes. For a wrestler, no.
Hans Heinemann: I’d agree.
Krimzon is back on his feet and tends to Larsson, who seems to be rising from his feet. The Educator, drops the chair, opting not to get disqualified. Krimzon turns around and The Educator catches him with his boot in the gut. Krimzon reels forward and gasps for air. The Educator delivers a quick uppercut and whips Krimzon into the exposed turnbuckle. Krimzon screams in pain and the fans boo The Educator. The Educator charges, and squashes Krimzon against the exposed turnbuckle again. The Educator looks around and spots Jonny Sake, still out cold. Krimzon, rests his head on Educator’s chest. The Educator grabs Krimzon by the head and jumps, taking Krimzon with him.
Hans Heinemann: The Educator is beginning to dominate.
The Educator performs a jumping DDT from the turnbuckle, Detention. He hits it perfectly. Larsson wakes up a little and begins to count.
Miguel Rodriguez: Beautiful finisher from The Educator… he mastered this plan well. Sake on the outside and injure Krimzon on the exposed turnbuckle.
Hans Heinemann: Is it enough?
ONE!
TWO!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Is anything good enough for you, Hans?
THREE!
The bell rings and Larsson raises The Educator’s hand. The Educator immediately shakes Larsson off.
Hans Heinemann: He wins! Krimzon just got Detention.
James Brunt: The winner, and still Livewire champion... THE EDUCATOR!
Hans Heinemann: Part one of three... complete. Now he needs to rest up for his two other matches... wait, what’s going on?
Fans boo around the arena as The Educator’s music ends. He stares at the metal chair, still plonked in the middle of the ring. Krimzon is still out cold. Larsson is tending to Sake on the outside. The Educator brandishes the chair and slams it on the mat. Krimzon is alert, but not too focused on his surroundings, he wobbles a bit and stands up.
Miguel Rodriguez: What’s he doing? He won the damn match.
The Educator takes a vicious swing and connects with the side of Krimzon’s head and nose. Blood shoots out of Krimzon’s nose and mouth, a few teeth have fallen to the mat.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: UNCALLED FOR!
Hans Heinemann: That was vicious… he lost a few teeth, and by the looks of things, has a broken nose.
Miguel Rodriguez: There are TEETH on the mat! Er... MAMMA MIA!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: You’re not Italian, Mig.
Miguel Rodriguez: Er... BEEG BOY GROWING!
Krimzon falls against the ropes and hits the mat. The Educator, however, is not finished. He wraps Krimzon’s left leg in between the chair. The Educator climbs the ropes, getting booed on all three steps. He lunges off the ropes, landing two feet on the chair, a snap is heard and a loud scream from Krimzon, who passes out immediately. The Educator seems to be finished, grabs his title and his music hits the sound system once more. Medics and ambulance staff rush to the ring to tend to Krimzon and Sake.
Hans Heinemann: Oh... my God.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Educator crossed the line.
Miguel Rodriguez: Did you HEAR that snap? Krimmy is only just back from a dislocated shoulder and now he seems to have a fracture in his leg!
Hans Heinemann: There could be hell to pay after this.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: But at least it’s job done for Adam Masters. He can be rid of these two.
Hans Heinemann: And make his rightful progress up the ladder. You know, he could end up with three titles tonight!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: ...won’t.
FEATURING: PADDY O'SHEA, PIERCE LAVELLE
AUTHORS: LARA CLARKE AND MICHAEL DOHERTY
The scene opens in a backstage corridor. There are a number of staff loitering around the place including wrestling and non-wrestling personnel. A lot of commotion fills the backstage area what with it being PPV night. As another match has just ended, scenes of excitement and nerves are seen, as wrestlers rejoice at their wins and regret their losses. Technicians are running around tirelessly, ironing out last minute changes. However, in this beige coloured prison, Paddy O'Shea is seen, dressed in his ring attire, tending to a few lovely ladies and as calm as the day he was born. His attire tonight consists of his three quarter length khakis and for the first time, a tight white vest with “The Padster” inscribed into it.
Paddy O'Shea: Alright ye wee lovelies … I'll be with ye in a moment.
Paddy O'Shea picks up a small bottle of water with a smooth stretch and then winks at one of the ladies as he comes back up from his bend. He strolls away still looking the other way and turns the corner, only to bump into the Transatlantic champion, Pierce Lavelle.
Paddy O'Shea: Sorry, didn't see ye there Pierce.
Pierce Lavelle: It’s my fault, I was paying too much attention to the match that just ended.
Paddy O'Shea: Don't worry ‘bout it.
Both men look around a little awkwardly. They haven’t really talked much during their stints in the AWC so far and it seems conversation will have to be forced. O'Shea takes a sip from his water and stares at the belt slung over Lavelle's shoulder but makes sure to look away before Pierce catches his eye so as not to appear rude.
Pierce Lavelle: Thanks for the idea of rallying the AWC wrestlers to fight against Varga.
Paddy O'Shea: Don't mention it, aye thought we did a good job, pity nobody listened, really.
Pierce Lavelle: Yeah, I thought it could've gone better. Guess we'll have to try harder. I see we face each other tonight, for the second time. No hard feelings over our last match.
Paddy O'Shea: Ah, o’ course not. Aye know ye hadn’t got anything t’ do with Strider interfering. Tha’ can’ be helped.
Pierce Lavelle: Well, hopefully all will be fair tonight.
Paddy O'Shea shakes his head and looks around at the four ladies, giggling in the corner and flicks a smile. Pierce Lavelle follows Paddy O'Shea's gaze and stares at the four giggling women who wave at him courteously.
Pierce Lavelle: Oh, I see, well, I'll make myself scarce.
Paddy O'Shea: Oh, ye mean the gaggling geese's o’er there, they be not important.
Pierce Lavelle laughs, both men are getting a huge reaction from the surrounding fans. Pierce Lavelle listens to the "PADDY" and "PIERCE" chants that seem to be elevating. Pierce Lavelle grabs a bottle of water for himself and pops the lid into the bin.
Paddy O'Shea: Ye confident?
Pierce Lavelle: Excuse me?
Paddy O'Shea: Bout t'night…
Pierce Lavelle: I guess, but to be honest, I might have beaten you once, but it isn't just you and I. We have three more men to worry about. I think Hate will be my biggest problem. I beat him once too, but that was at the hands of Strider. I'm not too sure travelling and wrestling in a sightseeing bus is going to help my standards of wrestling.
Paddy rolls his eyes and nods. Paddy O'Shea: Don't mention the bus! Aye don't like the idea o’ this pay-per-view. It be all British, not an ounce o’ culture in it. Aye mean, the name is British, we are in a British arena and we have t’ travel and do sight seeing, fer our main event match. Aye’m not that enthusiastic about seeing "BIG BILL".
Lavelle laughs at the sarcasm from Paddy O'Shea but doesn’t correct him. Instead he moves to a more educational pose as he prepares to delve into some logic.
Pierce Lavelle: I take it you don't like the English!
Paddy O'Shea: Considerin' me history, and the history of me homeland, no’ really.
Pierce Lavelle: Wasn't that almost 500 years ago?
Paddy O'Shea: Some scars don’ heal… But ye know about Irish history? Comin' from an American that be weird. No offence.
Pierce Lavelle: None taken! It’s true, we do tend to stay in our little box. But I found European history to be more exciting and I took a few trips to Ireland when I was younger, got a little too enthusiastic about its history… I didn't find many books in America though.
Paddy O'Shea nods, a little surprised that the Transatlantic champion actually knows a little about the north and south divide of Ireland, the six counties and also the fact it’s ruled by England. A new wave of respect seems to have washed over him and he stands up properly making sure Lavelle knows he’s focusing on everything he says.
Paddy O'Shea: That be great… well, I look forward to facin' ye fer a second time.
Pierce Lavelle: Yeah, as do I. Maybe second time you'll get lucky!
Paddy O'Shea: Well good luck t'night.
Pierce Lavelle: Same to you … anyway, I'll leave you to your gaggling geese's!
STEVEN XANDROUS (C) VS THE FARMER VS PACT VS GROBSCHNIT VS JAMES VARGA (UWF) VS KRIS CARMICHAEL (HSW) VS CHRIS WEST (WoC) VS WILLIAM CURR (cW) VS ELIMINATOR (SCW) VS AL AMBROSE (FA) VS SEAN ASPINALL (FA) VS IAN ENGLISH (FA) VS THE REAL DEAL (FA) VS SEAN WHITE (FA) VS CHRIS METAL (FA) VS THE GIANT SPERM (FA)
STIPULATION: FARMYARD MATCH
REFEREE: JOSEPH REID
AUTHOR: YRAN
The camera opens as it pans slowly from left to right across the brick wall that surrounds the AWC farmyard that has been set up for the invitational.
Maddy Estelle: Welcome to the Farmyard!
Farmer Jones: RAR!
Maddy Estelle: Do all farmers growl?
Farmer Jones: RAR!
The camera continues to pan across the brick wall until the main gates comes into view. Through the metal gates it is clear that the wrestlers have already been let loose on the area already. The camera’s pace quickens as it moves in on the main gates to see The Farmer and Chris Metal stepping through the metal gates and looking around.
Farmer Jones: RAR! There’s my pick! The Farmer!
Maddy Estelle: He does stand a great chance, what with being a farmer and all!
the Horny Mathematician: Farmers are the centre point of zoophilia.
The pair talk to each other as they notice William Curr following them in. The Core Wrestling superstar hasn’t noticed the pair as they hide behind the pillar holding the gates up. William Curr takes a couple of steps in and surveys the structure that the AWC has built with the help of colour commentator Farmer Jones.
Farmer Jones: RAR!
Maddy Estelle: Metal and Farmer are teaming up as this match starts…
As Curr looks to move forward and enter the match, The Farmer and Chris Metal beeline for him clubbing him in the back of the head with double forearms and knocking Curr to his knees. William tries to stand up as he attempts to identify his assailants but his back is met by stomps from the mentor and student team.
Maddy Estelle: Poor William Curr… Seconds in and he is being beaten!
Quickly, The Farmer and Metal lift Curr to his feet before knocking him down with double clotheslines. Curr tries to battle away from the stomps but Metal and The Farmer increase their intensity of damage. As they do, Sean Aspinall is seen approaching the farmyard gates.
Maddy Estelle: Who’s this guy?
the Horny Mathematician: Sean Aspinall...
Maddy Estelle: Who?
the Horny Mathematician: Sean Aspinall... former Core Wrestling Classic champion...
Farmer Jones: RAR!
Metal and The Farmer continue to stomp Curr into the ground and lay in with a few right hands, keeping him on the dirt. The Farmer is forced to abandon the attack on William Curr as Sean Aspinall sprints through the gates and goes for the Relentless #1 contender. As Aspinall connects with a shoulder charge the gates of the farmyard swing shut, signifying everyone has entered the match and officially it is underway.
Maddy Estelle: Everyone is in… This match has started!
Farmer Jones: TEA!
Maddy Estelle: What? What are you? The English version of DOOOBLIN DAVE~!?
Farmer Jones: (whispers) Rar!
Sean watches as The Farmer stumbles backwards with the force of the shoulder block and then follows it up with another charge. The Farmer stumbles back again and Aspinall follows it up with a running DDT. The Farmer crunches the floor, as Chris Metal looks up and heads to support his protégé. Metal watches as Aspinall stands up from hitting his DDT, and Metal kicks him in the gut.
Maddy Estelle: Chris Metal is looking impressive on his return to wrestling…
Sean is doubled over as Chris Metal grabs his waist and tries to rock into a cradle piledriver, but out of nowhere, Ian English runs in and delivers a bulldog to the former PCWer. The bulldog on Metal sees Aspinall dropped forward, awkwardly onto his head.
Maddy Estelle: OUCH!
the Horny Mathematician: Ian English with a sneaky attack!
Ian English stands up and sees the four downed bodies and runs off. Aspinall is the first up of the four downed men; he targets Metal with a couple of stomps, before running off in pursuit of Ian English. Chris Metal is first up, as he sits straight up and then crawls over to his protégé. The Farmer is quickly up and the pair gets to work on William Curr again.
Maddy Estelle: Poor William Curr…
the Horny Mathematician: Stop saying that…
Maddy Estelle: Why? You try getting beat up by a drunk Irishman and Chris Metal and tell me you won’t feel worse because it’s those too…
They lay in fists on Curr’s midsection and then The Farmer takes a few steps back. He shouts at Chris Metal and Metal obliges The Farmer’s requests by whipping William Curr towards him. The Farmer swings his arm ready to deliver The Harvest to the Core Wrestling star, but Curr ducks underneath The Farmer’s huge arm.
Maddy Estelle: The Farmer misses his Harvest…
Farmer Jones: GRR!
Mickey Fitz turns round as Curr stops running and turns around. Curr runs at The Farmer, and before Mickey Fitz can react he is taken to the ground by Curr in a headlock takedown. As soon as the pair has hit the earth, Curr straddles The Farmer, pinning his arms to the soil. What follows can only be described as devastating as William Curr proceeds to throw fists at the AWC superstar who has no way of defending himself.
Maddy Estelle: What is Chris Metal doing?
Farmer Jones: Judas!
Standing five feet away, Chris Metal watches his face motionless and then turns and walks off.
Maddy Estelle: I suppose it is every man for themselves…
the Horny Mathematician: Or alien for themselves…
Maddy Estelle: Who?
the Horny Mathematician: Grobschnit!
Farmer Jones: Or sperms…
Maddy Estelle: God dam Varga and his stupid creations!
the Horny Mathematician: Hey! Leave my daddy alone!
The camera switches to see Sean Aspinall disappear in pursuit of Ian English before panning towards the tractors and quad bikes. Set-up for the wrestler’s benefit is three tractors and four quad bikes. As the camera moves round it picks up on Sean White and Pact trading blows in the seat of one of the tractors. White is seated in the driver’s seat of the tractor as Pact stands on the steps delivering punches to the driver.
White is trying to respond, but Pact is blocking his punches. The camera switches into “Tractor #1 Cam” and we are given a close-up of Sean White’s head being knocked back on its neck by the retiring Pact. White’s left hand, the one he is not using to try and punch Pact, is playing with the keys, trying to start the tractor.
Maddy Estelle: Pact is hanging off the tractor!
Eventually, the tractor can be heard growl into action. Pact’s unyielding attack is momentarily ceased as he notices the tractor slowly chugging into motion. Pact’s momentary lapse of concentration allows Sean White to get in a quick right hand on Pact, and then he begins clubbing on Pact’s arms as he holds onto the moving tractor. Pact tries to fight back but the driver has an advantage and manages to throw Pact from the tractor onto the dirt.
the Horny Mathematician: Dirt is the variance to a clean household…
Maddy Estelle: Huh?
Sean White drives off as Pact falls to the ground, his fall broken by Grobschnit who was wandering around. Pact’s clings to his damaged back as Grobschnit throws the falling superstar off him. Grobschnit stands himself up and dusts himself off, before realising the opportunity before him of eliminating the retiring superstar. Grobschnit runs off to find a haystack, as the camera decides to follow Sean White’s tractor. As the free agent chugs along in his tractor watching people brawling and fighting around him, another tractor approaches him.
A quick switch to “Tractor #3 Cam” reveals the driver of the tractor is The Eliminator from SCW. The two drivers pull their tractors to a stop and rev their engines. The pair are straight on with each other.
Maddy Estelle: CHICKEN!
Farmer Jones: TEA!
the Horny Mathematician: PENIS IS THE ORIGIN OF THE VAGINA!
Maddy Estelle: Huh?
the Horny Mathematician: Contract states I have to say it…
Another rev from each driver, and then pair accelerate once more, both heading the others direction. Now before you go thinking this is a high speed version of chicken, the two tractors are travelling at about 5 miles per hour, but this is now a matter of pride between the two. As the pair are about thirty seconds from impact The Eliminator pulls a brick out from behind him and reaches it down to the floor.
Maddy Estelle: What is he doing?
Farmer Jones: I think he is using the brick to keep the tractor going…
The Eliminator swings his door open and climbs from the driver’s seat. Sean White looks confused in his cab and watches his opponent climbing onto the engine casing of the tractor. The two tractors are metres from each other as The Eliminator crouches, and prepares himself.
CRASH~!
Farmer Jones: What happened?
the Horny Mathematician: The physics of the situation would indicate the end of the universe…
Maddy Estelle: So we’re going to die…
the Horny Mathematician: Yeah…
…
Farmer Jones: RAR!
A bellow of smoke rises from both vehicles as they grind to a halt in the crash. As the smoke clears, the camera switches between the two tractors cams. “Tractor #3 Cam” reveals the empty seat that once housed the Eliminator. “Tractor #1 Cam” an empty hole in the tractor. Sean White is gone. The chair is gone. The camera pans away from the two tractors and looks at the ground behind Sean White’s tractor.
Farmer Jones: RRRAAARRR!
Maddy Estelle: HOLT SHIT!
the Horny Mathematician: What? Did the universe end?
Maddy Estelle: NO! ELIMINATOR JUST SPEARED SEAN WHITE THROUGH HIS TRACTOR!
the Horny Mathematician: So I was wrong?
Lying on the ground, Sean is still seated in the chair. On top of him lies the driver of the tractor, Eliminator. The SCW superstar releases his spear clasp and stands up. He looks down at Sean White, and then surveys the area as though searching out a haystack. Moving away from Sean White the camera cuts to “Tractor #2 Cam.” As the picture switches to the seat, Grobschnit is seen climbing into the driver’s seat.
Maddy Estelle: Is Grobschnit going to bring the third tractor into things?
the Horny Mathematician: Isn’t one of the tractors broke?
Farmer Jones: RAR!
The camera switches to the outside of the tractor and we can see that the alien representing Andy Murray has loaded a Giant Haystack onto the front of the tractor. Turning the key, nothing happens for the Alien. Turning the key again, nothing happens.
Maddy Estelle: Doesn’t he notice the two tractors that have moved?
Farmer Jones: He’s an alien…
One final time Grobschnit turns the key on the tractor, unaware that the two working tractors have just crashed into each other only a few metres away. Grobschnit turns the key and it clicks.
Suddenly Grobschnit is thrown vertically upwards as the roof opens out and the ejector seat that was rumoured to have been fitted executes perfectly the alien.
Maddy Estelle: Hehe…
Farmer Jones: That was my idea!
The alien is thrown at least ten feet in the air and he lands only a matter of yards away as he plunges to the ground just in front of the tractor. The alien attempts to stand up, but can’t, the huge fall taking its toll on his body. Changing quickly from the broken body of Grobschnit, the camera is focusing on door of the tool shed.
At the door, trying to open the lock is Kris CarMichael and the AWC Relentless Champion, Steven Xandrous.
Maddy Estelle: There is the defending Champion!
AWC’s resident caveman has the lock in hand as KCM; the equivalent Champion is HSW watches for any potential attackers. Xandrous lets go of the lock and sigh in frustration as KCM turns his head towards the lock. CarMichael takes over and begins to toy with the lock as Xandrous takes over the lookout for any attackers. Seconds later, KCM has success as the lock opens with some brute force and is dropped to the ground.
The two swings the door open and prepare to enter the toy room of the match. Suddenly out of the dark Al Ambrose runs out of the shed swinging a brush wildly. He connects with a handle shot to the midsection of Xandrous but as he tries to repeat the feet on KCM, the HSW superstar is able to counter the attack, grabbing the brush and yanking it from Ambrose’s grasp.
Maddy Estelle: A big tool shed and they use a brush?!?
KCM bears down on Ambrose with the brush as Al backs away, stumbling into the tool shed. The HSW FnX Champion holds the brush over his head and crushes it down Al Ambrose, knocking him senseless with one swift shot. As Ambrose drops to the ground, KCM steps over his unconscious body and into the tool shed to find himself a toy.
Into the picture runs Ian English as he looks over his shoulder. The Tsar of 5-Star sees the open door and steps into the dark tool shed. Behind the former PRIME superstar, Sean Aspinall runs into camera shot. He looks around himself and then runs off out of the picture.
A crash is heard in the tool shed.
Maddy Estelle: Uh-oh!
Out of the darkness a figure is seen being thrown out. Out of the dark light Kris CarMichael crashes to the dirt with a spade in hand. The HSW superstar is out cold before he hits the ground.
Maddy Estelle: Ian English is just getting in every bodies business!
Seconds later, Ian English walks down dusting off his hands. He looks down at Al Ambrose, smiles and walks off. English is followed out as The Giant Sperm rolls out of the darkness and over the body of Al Ambrose.
the Horny Mathematician: My Brother!
Maddy Estelle: You’re brother is the Giant Sperm…
the Horny Mathematician: We are all one big Varga family…
Changing cameras, we are welcomed to the sheep field for the first time in the match. The field is plush grass with a number of the white fluffy animals going about their business. The camera pans around as the Giant Sperm seen seconds earlier rolls into view, stops, changes direction and rolls out of picture. Seconds later the Sperm bounces onto screen and Sean White follows, appearing as though he just kicked the giant fertility wonder.
the Horny Mathematician: My poor brother!
White is chasing the Sperm across the field as it bounces until White is speared to the ground by James Varga.
the Horny Mathematician: DADDY!
Maddy Estelle: For a horny mathematician you have got far too excited about Varga…
The master of character creation begins to pound Sean White, as the Giant Sperm rolls off. White manages to push Varga off and responds by jumping onto the UWF superstar and using his tactics of continuous punching. This continues for a few seconds until The Real Deal runs and jumps up, splashing both men.
White is forced to roll away in pain and TRD drags Varga to his feet. As TRD attempts a suplex, Varga counters and plants him with a DDT and then runs towards the sheep. After a few seconds of chasing the fluffy animals, Varga manages to grasp one.
the Horny Mathematician: This one time at math camp I chased a sheep…
Maddy Estelle: Math camp?
the Horny Mathematician: Yeah… It was last week…
Farmer Jones: Do we want to hear the end of this?
the Horny Mathematician: Smell my fingers!
Varga quickly returns as Sean White stands to his feet. Varga swings the sheep, hitting the free agent in the head and knocking him to the ground.
Maddy Estelle: It’s wooden!
Farmer Jones: Dammit! If it was a real sheep I was going to sue!
TRD stands up and receives the same fate as Varga shows off his wooden sheep that he planted in the field. Seconds later Varga is bundled to the ground as the Giant Sperm jumps on him.
the Horny Mathematician: Why would he attack our father?
Maddy Estelle: Every man, alien or thing for themselves…
The “monster of making babies” goes on the offensive as he jumps on the bodies of all three men that are down. Going between all three, the Giant Sperm is able to splash all three.
Thankfully, in a moment that will hopefully save the AWC buy rates Varga is able to lift his foot and kick the Giant Sperm out of the picture. An explosion of white semen covered the surrounding field but “luckily” missed the three wrestlers as James Varga pulled himself.
Maddy Estelle: Did he just puncture the Giant Sperm…
Farmer Jones: RAR!
Varga laid in a couple of boots to The Real Deal and Sean White as The Farmer runs into picture. The Farmer stops twenty feet short of Varga and looks over his shoulder.
The Farmer: LADS! HE’S ‘ERE!!!
The Farmer runs at Varga as the AWC superstar, Pact and honorary stars of Grobschnit and Chris Metal ruin into shot on the same quest as The Farmer.
Maddy Estelle: Varga is a wanted man…
the Horny Mathematician: You’re damn right!
Varga spots the on-comers and the man that has invaded AWC twice leaves the scene of the two downed superstars and runs off. Cutting away from the field the camera is seen in the small barn for the first time in the show. Already in the barn “Insane” Chris West is brawling with Steven Xandrous on top of a haystack.
The two men are having difficulty standing as the hay is giving way to their feet and Xandrous slips a little West takes advantage pushing the Relentless champion from the mound they are on to the barn floor five feet below.
Maddy Estelle: OUCH!
Farmer Jones: RAR!
Xandrous is motionless for a couple of seconds as the Insane one looks down on the fallen Relentless Champion with a smile. Chris steadies himself and then launches himself off the top of the haystack with a huge elbow drop.
Maddy Estelle: If there was a crowd here they would be loving that shit!
the Horny Mathematician: Shit is the production of the addition of penis and rectum…
The WoC employee crashes onto the Relentless Champion. He rolls off seconds later and lays motionless for a couple of seconds. He opens his eyes and panic crosses his face as a Giant Haystack falls from the balcony in the barn.
West is unable to crawl out of the way as the Haystack encompasses him and Steven Xandrous. The camera pans up as Eliminator and William Curr stand proudly at the origin of the haystack.
Maddy Estelle: Has Xandrous been eliminated already?
Farmer Jones: RAR!
The two men look down as the Haystack lies still for a couple of seconds before rustling and then rolling off Xandrous and West. Standing up, Steven Xandrous and Chris West point up at the two men and encourage them to come down.
Xandrous and West nod at each other in a look of alliance for the moment anyway, as they try to beckon down Curr and Eliminator. Curr and Eliminator look at each other and shrug and then disappear into the first floor of the barn out of the sight of the camera.
Maddy Estelle: Are they coming down?
A few moments later a second haystack is sent flying from the barn roof.
the Horny Mathematician: My calculations point to “no”…
The “Insane” one and the Relentless Champion are able to dodge it as they see it coming. Curr and Eliminator appear once again, checking to see if their plan worked and they caught the two men off guard. Both look unhappy as they see Xandrous and West staring back. Curr shrugs and begins to descend the ladder, deciding he has to face the two men eventually.
Maddy Estelle: Here they come…
Eliminator follows but as the pair make their way down the ladder, Eliminator sells Curr out, kicking him in the face and sending him five feet down to the ground.
the Horny Mathematician: Eliminator with a nice kick to his “partner”…
The WoC star pounces quickly and Xandrous goes in pursuit of Eliminator who quickly climbs the ladder again. Chris West pulls William Curr from the Haystack and drops him to the floor with a quick DDT. This is followed up as West rolls onto Curr and begins to pound his face with left and rights. Meanwhile, Xandrous has clutched the foot of the Eliminator, who had been leisurely climbing the ladder thinking he had sent Curr to the wolves.
Maddy Estelle: Eliminator thought he was safe for the time being…
Xandrous pulls and pulls and manages to cause Eliminator to release his grip. Xandrous tugs again and the Eliminator falls backwards landing in the Haystack that had a minute ago been occupied by William Curr.
Maddy Estelle: HOLY SHIT!
the Horny Mathematician: I have calculated that was a fifteen feet drop…
Maddy Estelle: You read the sheet of dimensions…
the Horny Mathematician: At least I can read…
Maddy Estelle: I can read…
the Horny Mathematician: Sorry…
With a grin on his face, Xandrous follows hitting a leg drop on the SCW superstar. The “Insane” one’s beating of William Curr is stopped as he notices the two bodies falling to the Haystack. Both remain motionless for several seconds as the impact of the fall takes it toll.
Chris West steps off Curr and pulls Xandrous off the Haystack, helping his “partner” to stand. Xandrous struggles at first but with the help of the self-proclaimed hardcore legend the Relentless Champion is soon standing. As Xandrous finds his footing, Eliminator drags himself off the Haystack and ready to face West and Xandrous. With Xandrous and West standing strong, Eliminator looks helpless as they stand in a triangle.
Maddy Estelle: Eliminator is a wanted man!
Farmer Jones: RAR!
Eliminator bee lines for Xandrous, Xandrous bee lines for Eliminator and Chris West bee lines for XANDROUS!
Maddy Estelle: SWERVE~!
The Relentless Champion is knocked backwards by right hands from both Eliminator and West as they attack. Xandrous is forced to retreat and quickly he is able to run out of the barn with West and Eliminator in pursuit.
Farmer Jones: Xandrous is going the smart thing and getting out of there…
the Horny Mathematician: In your opinion of smart he is doing the right thing, but I am a mathematician and I know the real smart… He should kick both men at twelve point five degree angles, therefore effectively imploding the universe…
Farmer Jones: How is that smart?
the Horny Mathematician: Did I say “smart”?
Farmer Jones: Yes…
the Horny Mathematician: No I didn’t… LISTEN!
William Curr drags himself to his feet and follows, slowly.
The camera follows the running Xandrous and opens in the courtyard of the farmyard. Steven Xandrous comes running out of the second barn with his two attackers in tow as James Varga comes running from the sheep field with AWC in pursuit.
Steven Xandrous and Varga cross paths as Xandrous stop with all the AWC superstars at one end of the courtyard. James Varga stops with Chris West and Eliminator as the three visitors to the AWC Pay-Per-View face the AWC superstars.
Maddy Estelle: Gang warfare!
Farmer Jones: RAR!
Pact leads the AWC forces as they step towards the three visitors. Pact is forced to stop as William Curr appears out of the barn and stands behind the visitors. Curr is followed by Sean Aspinall and Al Ambrose who appear from different corners of the farmyard.
The AWC group seem unfazed. The Farmer, Chris Metal, Steven Xandrous, Grobschnit and Pact stand tall as the visitors numbers increase.
The Real Deal and Sean White appear in shot brawling with each other. They stop as they notice the convention of stars in the courtyard. The pair look at each other, nodding their truce and then join the ranks of the visitors. Kris CarMichael walks into shot, stepping right through the AWC team forcing them to part to allow him through. His actions cause a growl from The Farmer.
Maddy Estelle: That’s everyone isn’t it?
the Horny Mathematician: Ian English isn’t there!
Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Ian English comes running into view and gets the imminent brawl under way by clotheslining Chris Metal.
Maddy Estelle: Surprise from English!
With a HUGE roar from The Farmer, AWC attack going straight for the heart of the assembled group.
Farmer Jones: RAR!
William Curr is the first victim of the onslaught as he is flipped onto his head by a monstrous Harvest clothesline from The Farmer. Xandrous follows suit as he knocks Chris West to the ground with a powerful clothesline. And Pact has the pleasure of taking out two men as cleans Al Ambrose and Sean White out with jumping lariat. Grobschnit is unable to connect with an attack as Kris CarMichael flips him onto his back with a monkey toss.
Maddy Estelle: AWC are initially on top for this…
the Horny Mathematician: My calculations indicate that James Varga will destroy all!
Chris Metal stands back up after the surprise attack from Ian English, who has subsequently and unsurprisingly fled the scene. Metal looks around and then heads for The Real Deal who is heading his way. The pair connects with right hands on each other and the brawl ensues, both men refusing to let up on the barrage of punches they deliver to each other.
The Farmer’s initial distraction taking out William Curr has left him open to a second superstar and Eliminator has taken that opportunity as he begins to pound on Mickey Fitz. James Varga joins in as he and the SCW superstar use the numbers game to their advantage.
the Horny Mathematician: The advantage of increasing numbers… I taught him that…
Moving to the side, the camera picks up on Steven Xandrous’ merciless attack on Chris West. Xandrous’ earlier clothesline has given free reign on West’s body as the WoC is struggling with his consciousness. Pact continues to deliver boot to the bodies of Sean White and Al Ambrose as he keeps them at by, but his dominance is cut short of Kris CarMichael knocks him to the ground with a sweetly executed dropkick.
Chris Metal and TRD are still brawling as either can take an advantage, as one more Ian English runs in, hitting both with a lead pipe and knocking them out cold.
Maddy Estelle: Ian English is using a good old hit and run attacks…
The two men fall like a sack of potatoes and the former PRIME-ate runs off. As Xandrous stops punching the now lifeless body of Chris West, he notices Eliminator and Varga kicking The Farmer in his “zone of preciousness.”
Farmer Jones: TURNIPS!
Xandrous quickly rises off West’s body and using the hunched over Chris Metal as a launching pad lands a springboard cross body on both men. All three crumple to the floor as The Farmer clutches his “fathering equipment.”
The camera quickly pans around again as Kris CarMichael surveys the broken bodies and then bounds away from the courtyard towards the tool shed. Sitting up, Steven Xandrous watches the HSW FnX Champion run away and realising they are two of the few members still able to move, the AWC Relentless Champion follows. The Farmer has finished massaging it testicles and watches Xandrous leaving.
He climbs to his feet and follows as “Insane” Chris West begins to stir.
Cutting to the second barn camera, the picture shows Ian English hiding behind a stack of haystacks.
Maddy Estelle: Sneaky bastard!
the Horny Mathematician: My calculation point to…
Farmer Jones: Let me guess… Universal implosion…
the Horny Mathematician: A James Varga victory!
Maddy Estelle: So yes… Universal implosion…
Ian English sheepishly peers out around the haystacks but no-one comes. The Tsar of 5-Star then ducks his body behind the haystack as the camera snaps away.
Cutting to the second barn, Pact is brawling with The Real Deal on the top level of the barn. TRD is struggling to deal with Pact’s hard right hands. TRD is knocked back a couple of steps edging closely to the edge of the level as Pact runs at him with a shoulder block.
Maddy Estelle: The Real Deal could be finished here…
The 48 year old veteran connects sweetly with his shoulder and TRD is sent plummeting to the ground. Pact watches as TRD falls to the hay below. Pact turns around and starts to push a haystack over the edge.
Maddy Estelle: Could we see our first elimination?
Farmer Jones: RAR!
Pact struggles with the hay as TRD begins to stir down below. As TRD looks to move, Pact manages to push the hay over the end. The haystack falls onto TRD as one of the referees administers the count from a safe distance.
Maddy Estelle: Pact may be retiring but he gets the first elimination!
ELIMINATED: The Real Deal
Pact looks pleased with himself on top of the level as Al Ambrose and Chris West comes brawling into the barn. The “Insane” one begins to take control and he pushes Ambrose back towards the haystacks at the back of the barn.
CRASH~!
Maddy Estelle: What the…?
A huge haystack falls onto the two men as they were brawling, catching both completely off guard. The referee counts as the camera tries to find the origin of the haystack.
ELIMINATED: Chris West
ELIMINATED: Al Ambrose
Panning quickly around, it is noticed that the haystack was in a net attached to a rope.
Maddy Estelle: Ian English!
the Horny Mathematician: Had he planned this?
Maddy Estelle: Clearly…
Looking around, Ian English is spotted in the corner of the barn, a knife in his hands and the end of the haystack rope dangling from a pulley on the wall. The former PRIME star runs off as The Farmer and Chris Metal through William Curr through the barn door.
Maddy Estelle: Poor William Curr!
Farmer Jones: RAR!
The Core Wrestling superstar is suffering the same punishment he received as the beginning of the match, as The Farmer notices Pact still standing on the top level of the barn. Shouting up, The Farmer instructs Pact is send over a haystack as Chris Metal positions Curr. Pact obliges as he disappears to push a haystack over.
Maddy Estelle: AWC are getting rid of these blow-ins… wait. Where’s Sean White?
Pierre Hyde: Seems like the match writer forgot him. That’s a bit harsh, seeing as he actually roleplayed, but the match has been delayed enough. I’d better write him in quickly.
The Pact-assisted haystack appears over the end of the shelf and begins to fall as The Farmer pushes Chris Metal into the path of the Giant Haystack. Just then, Sean White falls from the sky – unfortunately, right in its path.
Farmer Jones: RAR! The Farmer is going to win!
The haystack crashes onto Curr’s limp body and the surprised Chris Metal and Sean White.
the Horny Mathematician: Nice calculations by The Farmer! He clearly knows where the vagina is…
Maddy Estelle: …
Farmer Jones: Rar?
ELIMINATED: William Curr
ELIMINATED: Chris Metal
ELIMINATED: Sean White
The Farmer smiles as he turns around to leave the barn. Pact remains upstairs in the barn, clearly deciding that is his new strategy but he fails to notice Sean Aspinall climbing the ladder. Aspinall doesn’t waste anytime as he runs at the retiring superstar but Pact responds at the very last moment, using Sean’s momentum to hip toss him from the top of the barn to the hay below.
Maddy Estelle: The veteran still has the reflexes of a twenty-something…
Pact follows it up with a haystack to claim his fifth elimination.
ELIMINATED: Sean Aspinall
As Aspinall is counted out by the referee, the camera cuts to the main barn where Kris CarMichael is brawling with Grobschnit. The alien connects with a solid right hand that knocks the FnX Champion back a couple of steps.
Maddy Estelle: Grobschnit is looking strong…
Grobschnit follows it up by spearing the HSW superstar to the mat and following it up with a barrage of fists. In a carbon-copy moment of the Chris West and Al Ambrose elimination, a haystack crashes onto the two superstars.
Maddy Estelle: One guess…
Farmer Jones: Ian English…
The haystack is set-up as the previous one and the camera quickly finds Ian English, beside the same set-up as the other barn.
Maddy Estelle: Both men are gone!
ELIMINATED: Grobschnit
As the ref prepares to eliminate KCM, a hand appears under the haystack, and a few seconds later KCM pulls himself out from underneath the haystack.
Maddy Estelle: What the…?
KCM lies in pain as Ian English disappears out the barn door.
Farmer Jones: RAR! KCM = Beast!
Kris tries to take a moment as another haystack lands on the FnX Champion.
ELIMINATED: Kris CarMichael
Maddy Estelle: Kris CarMichael survives a haystack falling on him but is no opposition to a second haystack!
Panning up, James Varga and The Giant Sperm are noticed upstairs in the main barn.
the Horny Mathematician: DADDY!
As Varga looks down with a smile on his face, The Giant Sperm is knocked from the top level. Varga turns around to be lifted into the air by The Eliminator.
Maddy Estelle: Look-out!
In one of the swiftest executions of a Death Valley Driver you will ever see, Eliminator throws James Varga off the edge and crashing to the haystacks below. Varga is forced to fall into the huge hole that the Giant Sperm caused and the two cause the haystacks surrounding them collapse on top of Varga and his creation.
ELIMINATED: James Varga
ELIMINATED: The Giant Sperm
Maddy Estelle: And then there were five…
the Horny Mathematician: Five is the square root of orgy…
Farmer Jones: RAR!
The picture changes to see The Farmer walking towards the tool shed. The Irish-man is looking around for someone as out of the shadows runs Steven Xandrous.
Farmer Jones: GRR!
The Farmer doesn’t see him coming and is speared to the ground by Xandrous. As Xandrous straddles the Eire Og member is weapon that he is carrying becomes apparent.
Maddy Estelle: What is that?
Farmer Jones: My branding iron…
the Horny Mathematician: Branding iron is the hypothesis of the third nipple…
Xandrous begins to beat on The Farmer, hitting him in the head numerous times with the iron weapon, bloodying the AWC superstar and leaving him unconscious. As Xandrous relents, he looks up with a grin on his face and gets off the Farmer.
Maddy Estelle: What is he doing?
He notices a small fire that has been burning at the side of the tool shed that no-one has noticed.
the Horny Mathematician: My calculations point to a branding…
Maddy Estelle: Don’t be stupid…
Xandrous sticks the branding iron in the flames as he looks back at The Farmer to make sure he is still out of it.
the Horny Mathematician: Told you!
Deciding it is hot enough, Xandrous returns and plants the “X” shaped iron onto the right shoulder of the Irishman, destroying the Ireland flag tattoo that The Farmer possessed.
Maddy Estelle: HOLY SHIT!
the Horny Mathematician: (singing) I was right… I was right… I was right…
Maddy Estelle: Is this the first time you have been right?
the Horny Mathematician: Yeah… So?
The heat causes The Farmer to come back around and he screams out in pain, steam rising from the burn.
Farmer Jones: That just looks plain wrong…
the Horny Mathematician: The Farmer is gonna be so pissed…
Maddy Estelle: Gonna? I think he might be a little annoyed right now… Don’t you think?
Although The Farmer had come back around, the pain causes him to pass out again and Xandrous throws the burning weapon to the side. Lifting The Farmer onto his shoulder, Steven marches off with a lifeless Farmer on his back.
Maddy Estelle: Xandrous is digusting… If he wins I will leave the AWC…
Farmer Jones: He’s valiantly holding the side up for AWC.
Maddy Estelle: Since when do you know long words like “valiantly”?
Farmer Jones: Since when do YOU? RAR!
Cutting away the camera opens up in the second barn as Pact is climbing down from the top level. As he touches the ground, Ian English strolls in looking around him. Pact notices the Tsar and runs at him at full speed. English reacts in time but is no match as the veteran tumbles him to the ground. Pact starts to punch English in the face, but English wriggles out of it but throwing Pact off.
Maddy Estelle: Ian English is refusing to stick around for a fight…
English stands up and runs off.
Cutting to the main barn, Xandrous is carrying The Farmer, with his new branding, as Xandrous throws Mickey Fitz to the ground and instructs the waiting Eliminator to throw down a haystack.
the Horny Mathematician: Bye bye Farmer…
Maddy Estelle: Xandrous is disgusting…
Eliminator obliges and the haystack lands comfortably on The Farmer.
ELIMINATED: The Farmer
Xandrous challenges Eliminator to come down as Ian English runs in, with Pact in pursuit. English manages to dodge a Xandrous clothesline, but Pact is victim to Xandrous and a superkick.
Maddy Estelle: The final four are in the same place…
Pact crumples to the ground as Eliminator seizes the opportunity and picks up his fourth elimination.
ELIMINATED: Pact
Maddy Estelle: Surprise, surprise… Ian English has run away…
Looking around, Xandrous realises that Ian English has ran off, as Eliminator climbs down the ladder at a quick pace. As Eliminator reaches the bottom Xandrous welcomes him to the ground floor with a dropkick through the runes of the ladder.
Farmer Jones: RAR!
Eliminator falls back to the ground as Xandrous climbs up the ladder. The AWC Relentless Champion moves with swiftness as he reaches the top and then pushes a haystack down the ladder.
Maddy Estelle: Xandrous is looking fresh after so long in the match!
Eliminator is moment from crawling away as the haystack crashes onto the SCW superstar.
ELIMINATED: Eliminator (haha, haha)
Xandrous follows the haystack and climbs down the ladder. Steven reaches the ground floor and goes in pursuit of the last remaining opponent in the Farmyard Invitational. Leaving the main barn, Xandrous looks around at every moment knowing that the lying, cheating, cowardly English is around somewhere.
Maddy Estelle: I don’t know who I want to win… What Xandrous did was plain wrong… But English is just pathetic…
Farmer Jones: I want English.
the Horny Mathematician: I calculate a Varga victory…
Maddy Estelle: I think you were closer with universal implosion.
As Xandrous stands at the bottom of the pyramid of haystacks he looks around as a haystack falls down the levels.
Maddy Estelle: Holy shit that is moving fast!
Farmer Jones: He won’t out run it!
Xandrous tries to run away but doesn’t react in time as the haystack crashes onto him.
ELIMINATED: Steven Xandrous
Maddy Estelle: English did it!
Farmer Jones: RAR!
the Horny Mathematician: At least Ian English won the match in England…
Panning up, the camera notices the winner of the match. Standing atop of the haystack pyramid, his arm raised in victory… Ian English!
Maddy Estelle: So is he the NEW AWC Relentless champion?
Farmer Jones: I assume so…
the Horny Mathematician: I calculate that that will be Varga…
Maddy Estelle: (sighs)
FEATURING: SARAH KENNEDY, PIERCE LAVELLE, FANS, TIM SHIPLEY
AUTHORS: LARA CLARKE AND PIERRE HYDE
We return backstage after some of an already eventful pay-per-view. The backstage area is alive with music and hysteria. Sarah Kennedy is perched on a stool, surrounded by a group of young men, all enjoying her pleasurable company.
Pierce Lavelle, the Transatlantic champion, comes around the corner, his title slung over his shoulder; he's dressed in his usual ring-attire – royal blue coloured tights, boots and knee pads. Sarah Kennedy smiles at the champion on his travels, but makes no further attempts to contact him.
Fan: ...excuse me, em, eh...
Lavelle turns around to see a small boy, probably around 9 or 10, dressed in a black "The Battle Of Britain" t-shirt from the merchandise stand. Lavelle smiles at the kid and watches as he pulls out a small notepad and a biro.
Fan: Could you, em, sign this, please?
Pierce Lavelle: Sure, what's your name, kiddo?
Fan: Jack Lambert.
Lavelle scribbles his name onto the white notebook and hands it back to Jack Lambert.
Pierce Lavelle: You enjoying the show?
Fan (Jack Lambert): Yeah, it's really good. Best event I have seen…
Pierce Lavelle: Yeah? Well, I'll pass on your comments to Pearl.
Fan (Jack Lambert): Whoa! Really?
Pierce Lavelle: Heh, sure.
Jack Lambert turns around and looks over at a group of school children. He motions with his right hand and about thirty children, from the ages of 10 to 17 circle around the Transatlantic champion. Pierce Lavelle lets out a sigh and suddenly notices the amount of notebooks being thrown at his face. Meanwhile, Sarah Kennedy and the group of men watch in awe at the sight before them.
Pierce Lavelle: Whoa, one at a time, one at a time.
A few moments pass and the crowd slowly begins to disperse a little. Two fans tug on Lavelle’s tights.
Pierce Lavelle: Okay, that’s the last of them.
Sarah Kennedy and the group of men watch as each walks away merrily with a signature to their name. Lavelle slumps back on a spare chair.
Sarah Kennedy: Looks like you got the golden touch.
Pierce Lavelle: Huh?
Sarah Kennedy: You are the main event champion, and you are great with fans. Therefore, you’ve got the golden touch.
Pierce Lavelle: Nice way of putting it, but my hand hurts!
Kennedy raises a loaded eyebrow before continuing.
Sarah Kennedy: So, are you looking forward to your match?
Pierce Lavelle: I’ll tell you one thing, this is probably the most historical name that a pay-per-view could ever have. Just imagine, almost 80 years ago, many English men were rallying into small planes to fend off a German invasion of Luftwaffe; most of them never got off the runway. There is so much history to the name, The Battle Of Britain, and it’s a privilege to be able to take part in something named that. Of course, Winston Churchill isn’t the British Prime Minister and we’re not fighting for our lives, but I am fighting to retain this title, against some of the best… on a bus.
Lavelle smiles and turns to Sarah Kennedy again; she laughs.
Pierce Lavelle: So, for me, it is truly an honour.
Sarah Kennedy: That is a really nice way of putting it! (laughs) Do you think you’ll have a tough time tonight?
Pierce Lavelle: As one of the great Churchill speeches goes, “I have nothing to give but blood, toil, tears and sweat”. An appropriate phrase for this match tonight, I am confident though – if I can’t give my all then I shouldn’t be Transatlantic champion, but, I feel confident tonight. This is something that all champions have to face and I look for to this match, it is... different.
The hangar bay style door to the arena opens and a gust of cool air sweeps into the room. Lavelle stands up and stares at the two, tubby English men, dressed in blue jumpsuits with stains all over them. Sarah Kennedy signs a document and the two men leave six crates of water.
Sarah Kennedy: You want to give me a hand?
Pierce Lavelle: My hand hurts!
Sarah Kennedy: I’ll give it a cool compress later; but I’m a woman, and my back already hurts with my large breasts, so how about some sympathy.
Lavelle looks at Kennedy, slightly shocked.
Pierce Lavelle: Em, yes ma’am.
Lavelle grabs two crates and hoists them up higher onto his chest, his back bent backwards, ever so slightly. Kennedy uses a small trolley to carry her three. Lavelle waddles forward, his legs buckling under pressure.
Pierce Lavelle: Hey, don’t close the –
A door shuts on Lavelle’s face, almost knocking the crates out of his hand. Kennedy is still a little far behind him. Tim Shipley is seated in an adjoining room watching the 24 hours news channel, Sky News, and spots Lavelle in a state of difficulty. He stands up and holds open the door.
Pierce Lavelle: (muttering) Thanks...
Lavelle slips under Shipley’s arm and continues down the corridor. And that’s it? That’s it for the first time they speak since the break-up of The Academy? No way, says Tim Shipley. He just has to talk to him – so he blurts this out.
Tim Shipley: Er... good luck tonight.
Lavelle stops dead in his tracks, a few moments pass and he turns around, a hint of a smile on his face.
Pierce Lavelle: Thanks, you too.
Shipley holds the door open for Kennedy and then lets it shut.
Sarah Kennedy: I was worried I would have to get in between you two.
Pierce Lavelle: Who? Shipley and me? No, no... it’s just history...
Lavelle packs the crates on top of the other three and turns around to find Kennedy slumped against the wall.
Pierce Lavelle: Your breasts weighing you down again, hmm?
Sarah Kennedy: That is no way to speak to a professional...
Pierce Lavelle: If you say so.
Lavelle walks past Kennedy, and is suddenly planted with a kiss on the cheek. Lavelle’s face turns a crimson red and Kennedy leaves ahead of him.
Sarah Kennedy: Eh, golden boy, you’ve got a match to get to...
STIPULATION: THREE WAY ELIMINATION
REFEREE: AARON DAVIES
AUTHOR: DAVE LARKIN
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Oooh, I can feel that special pay-per-view atmosphere in the air. It’s all around me! Wait. Isn’t that deodorant?
Miguel Rodriguez: (spraying deodorant on himself) You gotta smell good for these things, but thanks for the compliment on my choice of scent. It’s Armani “Shock” – the newest fragrance from those geniuses at Armani.
Hans Heinemann: Your deodorants don’t concern me, gentlemen. What concerns me is your severe lack of mental stability. Can you at least pretend to be interested in this match?
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Well, we always seem to fool you when we pretend each and every week, so I’m sure this time will be no different.
Miguel Rodriguez: It’s Timothy Shipley, the Frontier champion, facing quite possibly the biggest challenge of his short reign as champion. Tonight, Shipley wrestles not one, but two men – The Illustrious Face-Eater and The Educator.
Hans Heinemann: Indeed. Shipley has been having issues with Face-Eater for the past few weeks all over his deceased tag team partner, Tony Aliso. Just goes to show that if you torment someone with a championship, you’ll be granted a shot at the title.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Well, not necessarily. POTATOES!
Miguel Rodriguez: Anyway, the point we trying to make here is not one about potatoes. No, it about a battle between three men, all vying for a chance to be Frontier champion.
Hans Heinemann: Very dramatic, Miguel. Perhaps overly so, but you seem to get it, unlike our other colleague over here.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Who? Hans?
Hans Heinemann: No! You, you imbecile!
Miguel Rodriguez: Hey, he’s not an imbecile. He’s a sensitive and cool guy to hang out with. Hans, you have got to meet up with us after the show sometime.
Hans Heinemann: I’ll pass. I’m never going anywhere with you two. Ever.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Suit yourself. You’ll miss all the fun.
Heinemann raises an eyebrow as the lights dim and focus on the big screen. One circle of light stays focused on the big screen as “School Of Hard Knocks” begins to play over the PA system.
The immaculate Educator walks through the black veil from the back to a chorus of boos and holds his arms up to the audience, lavishing what he believes to be praise from the audience as he smiles and beams with pride whilst getting pelted with AWC merchandise from the fans. He is wearing a wrestling singlet with the Union Jack emblazoned on it. He takes one look down and kisses part of it to show his patriotism.
Hans Heinemann: Just listen to this reception from these English fans! They love this man, and so they should!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Well not all of them. It’s strange though... the thing I always found about The Educator is his mood; he’s always happy about something.
Miguel Rodriguez: Once he spots me at ringside, he smiles. He looks forward to coming out here and smiling at me.
James Brunt: Introducing first, from Surrey, England, weighing in at 220 pounds… THE EDUCATOR!
The Educator enters the ring, looking slightly tired from his earlier match in which he defended his Livewire title belt. The crowd give him a largely positive response, but there are the inevitable boos from some sections of the crowd. The Educator warms up in the ring as he awaits the next contender.
Hans Heinemann: Does The Educator look pumped and ready or what? I mean, he’s just the picture of prepared.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: That could be his new nickname. I agree, Educator wants to win back the title he gave up in a deal with Pearl – after of course he STOLE it in the first place. He’s cashing in the other side of the deal tonight – shots at the Frontier and Transatlantic championships. NO WAY can he win both. Smart thinking by Pearl.
Miguel Rodriguez: I’d say Face-Eater’s up next. Yet another fan of my beeeeg boy!
“Welcome Home” by Coheed and Cambria plays over the P.A. system, and amidst an array of dazzling light effects, The Illustrious Face-Eater appears from behind the curtain to a chorus of boos from the crowd. Face-Eater eats the boos up and strolls down the ramp way as many fans hurl abuse at him. Face-Eater seems super confident going into this Frontier championship match. He enters the ring casually and gives The Educator a passing nod as he poses for photographs beside the ropes.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Face-Eater’s confident tonight. I bet he’s expecting to win and eat someone’s face while he’s at it.
Hans Heinemann: Can’t you respect this man for his in-ring ability and not his… his face-eating abilities.
Miguel Rodriguez: I can respect him for his appreciation of the arts.
Hans Heinemann: He appreciates the arts? Which one?
Miguel Rodriguez: The art of my beeeeg boy!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: POTATOES!
James Brunt: And his opponent, from Utah... THE ILLUSTRIOUS FACE-EATER!
All the arena lighting goes out. The big screen flashes into life, with a piece of rapid video taking a first-person trip through a conceptual maze of light in space. The text 'Astral Conversations With Toulouse Lautrec' buzzes repeatedly across the screen, as the song of the same name by Northern Irish rock group Ash starts up with a re-recorded robotic voice-over announcing: "Please welcome: Tim Shipley. Error. Does not compute. Does not compute..." The basic two-chord opening begins, with Tim Wheeler's melodic "Uh. Uh uh" leading the song into the slightly heavier section as the guitar joins in.
James Brunt: Finally, from Milton Keynes, England, weighing in at 201 pounds... he is the Frontier champion... "Summer's Son" TIM SHIPLEY!
White spotlights dance around the arena, and now two blue spotlights, emitting light from the ringposts, slowly rotate down from the arena roof to focus on the stage, where Tim Shipley is now standing, scrunching his hands together, looking apprehensively out at the fans, who give the newcomer a sizeable pop following his recent actions. The white lights dance more and more frantically before simultaneously all coming to a stop to also focus on the stage and Tim Shipley, just as another piece of robot-squawk ends to be replaced by the more simple "Uh. Uh uh" and the video feed changes to a shot of a conceptual spaceship racing through a tunnel. Shipley, finally taking his cue, comes slowly down to the ring, looking around in wonder at the fans.
Hans Heinemann: This kid constantly looks stoned. What is up with that?
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: It’s not that; Shipley’s just in awe of the fans watching him every time he steps into an arena. Either that or he’s thinking about his tag team partner.
Miguel Rodriguez: What I wanna know is, how can Shipley possibly stand a chance of defending his championship with this mental turmoil of his going on at the same time? It’s going to be hard for him.
Aaron Davies quickly takes control of the three men involved in the match, doing his best to separate them and prevent any pre-match fighting. Davies calls for the bell to get the match underway. Shipley hands Davies his Frontier championship and Davies raises it to the thousands of fans packed inside Earl’s Court. A strong chant for Shipley begins.
“LET’S GO SHIP-LEY! LET’S GO SHIP-LEY!”
Shipley seems taken aback by the overwhelming response from the fans supporting him. Suddenly the cheers turn to boos as The Educator takes a cheap shot at Shipley, knocking him down from behind. The Educator and Face-Eater share some words with each other and decide to team up against Shipley.
Hans Heinemann: A strategy has brewed already between these two outstanding athletes. By working together and pooling their strengths, they can eliminate Shipley early. Put him out of contention, fellas!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Nah, I’m a fan of the underdog. Go Shipley!
Miguel Rodriguez: You’re supposed to be objective, but I’m going for James Brunt. He seems pretty cool.
The Educator and Face-Eater work together, not wasting any time in the early going. Face-Eater delivers chops to Shipley’s chest, reddening it. Face-Eater then whips Shipley in The Educator’s direction and The Educator nails Shipley with a strong spine buster to the mat. Face-Eater and The Educator nonchalantly stretch, mocking poor Shipley, who is struggling to get back to his feet. Face-Eater blindsides Shipley with a kick to the head, eliciting boos from the crowd.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: A boot right to the face says it all - these two have and should have no regard for this little pipsqueak.
Hans Heinemann: I thought you were supporting Shipley.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: I was, but I’ve changed my mind. What’s the point in supporting the loser?
Miguel Rodriguez: Shipley’s mounting some offense!
Shipley gets a rush of much-needed adrenaline and fires at Face-Eater with a right hand. Throwing caution to the wind, Shipley hurls himself at his other opponent, The Educator, with a spear. Shipley mounts The Educator and attempts to gain some sort of advantage, but Face-Eater pulls him off and delivers a reverse DDT to the canvas. Face-Eater helps The Educator up and nods to Shipley. Out of nowhere, however, The Educator blasts Face-Eater from behind with a boot to the back of the head. Earl’s Court fills with boos for The Educator’s actions.
Hans Heinemann: You were doing great together! Why did you do that, Educator? Unless he’s got a plan…
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Are you kidding? He’s always got a plan! He’s the king of plans.
Miguel Rodriguez: Do I always have to be the one who directs your attention to the important things? Look at my beeeeg boy! IT’S BEEEEG!
Face-Eater is beaten on by The Educator with boots to the sternum and back. Shipley has rolled out of harms way, though, and finds himself back on his feet. The Educator turns around and gives Shipley a look as if to say “Don’t get any ideas”. Shipley runs at The Educator, hoping to catch the larger man with his speed. The Educator can’t counter Shipley’s run, and Shipley takes The Educator down with a quick clothesline. Shipley builds momentum now, hitting a second rope hurricanrana to his fellow Englishman.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: W00t! Come on Shipley!
Hans Heinemann: Still supporting the winner?
Miguel Rodriguez: Shipley seems to have taken full control since The Educator decided he didn’t need allies anymore. Bad move by supposedly the smartest man in AWC.
With The Educator reeling from the hurricanrana, Shipley delivers a dropkick right to his face, knocking him over the top rope and to the outside. The Educator lands in a heap to a massive cheer from the fans. Just then, Face-Eater comes up from behind Shipley and flattens him with a brutal neckbreaker. Shipley instantly grabs his neck, and Face-Eater is booed by the capacity crowd.
Hans Heinemann: Shipley’s momentum, whatever small amount he had, is now over.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: And with The Educator outside the ring, this has turned into a one-on-one match. Advantage Face-Eater!
Miguel Rodriguez: Maybe I’ll go over and give The Educator some tips.
Hans Heinemann: You’re not going anywhere!
Face-Eater picks Shipley up to his feet and takes this opportunity to lock on one of his signature moves, the Estrada Stretch. The painful submission hold causes Shipley to scream out in pain, as his body is stretched and pulled in ways it shouldn’t be. Face-Eater’s evil grin tells us he is enjoying punishing Shipley.
Miguel Rodriguez: This can’t be good for Shipley’s neck. First the neck breaker, then this. Whoa, he’s having a hard time out there.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: What Face-Eater doesn’t know is that The Educator is about to make a reappearance.
Hans Heinemann: Clever. Look at him!
The Educator re-enters the ring by sliding under the bottom rope stealthily. He sneaks up on Face-Eater and nails a clubbing blow to his head. Both Face-Eater and Shipley go down in a heap, but Shipley quickly rolls out of harms way to recuperate. The Educator’s dominating figure stands before Face-Eater. Face-Eater acts quickly, though, and blindsides The Educator with a thumb to the eye. Face-Eater whips The Educator off the ropes, but The Educator counters on the rebound with a running DDT.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: The Educator just pulled that DDT out of the blue, but it’s done wonders for his chances in this match! POTATOES!
Miguel Rodriguez: The question is, can he make the cover. Make it count!
Hans Heinemann: He damn well better! He’s still my number one man in this match!
The Educator manages to make the first cover of the match-up, but it is broken up before the one count by Shipley, who was waiting in the wings. Shipley makes the cover on Face-Eater after shoving The Educator aside.
ONE!
TWO!
Face-Eater kicks out, and instantly grabs Shipley by the throat. Shipley resists and counters quickly with a kick to the gut. Shipley then lifts Face-Eater up for the vertical suplex, delaying it for several seconds. Face-Eater is dropped to the mat by Shipley, and the crowd applaud Shipley’s efforts. The Educator is lifted back to his feet by Shipley, who puts The Educator in a side headlock. The Educator counters with elbows to the sternum, though, and back suplexes Shipley to the mat.
Hans Heinemann: It’s absolute carnage in there! Face-Eater’s down, Shipley’s down, The Educator’s halfway down. There’s no clear winner here yet - except The Educator!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Why be so presumptuous? CRUMPETS! TEA!
Miguel Rodriguez: Wow, you didn’t say potatoes. What’s the deal?
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: I must be adapting to my English surroundings by saying things associated with England. LOSING 4-1 TO DENMARK~!
Hans Heinemann: Now you’re talking…
Face-Eater is back up and ready, but The Educator disposes of him with a DDT to the mat. The Educator then tosses Face-Eater over the top rope, leaving just himself and Shipley in the middle of the ring. The Educator rubs his hands together as a prone Shipley lies on the mat. The Educator brings Shipley over to the corner and sets him up for what could be The Educator’s finishing move, Detention. The crowd buzz and boos fill the arena.
Hans Heinemann: Detention’s coming for Shipley! He’s been a bad boy and he’s about to pay!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Watch out behind you, Educator!
Miguel Rodriguez: Hey, yeah, look!
Face-Eater comes up from behind The Educator and delivers an amazing DDT from the turnbuckle pole right down to the floor below to The Educator. Shipley is let off the hook, and lands back inside the ring. The Educator, on the other hand, lies motionless on the outside after taking what could be one of the most brutal DDT’s ever seen in wrestling history.
Hans Heinemann: Did I just see that happening? That was quite possibly one of the sickest moves I’ve ever seen done in my career!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: I’m just in shock…
Miguel Rodriguez: It’s safe to say The Educator’s out of this one, then?
Face-Eater, after delivering the DDT, re-enters the ring to concentrate on his only standing opponent, Shipley. Shipley fights Face-Eater off with right hands, but Face-Eater shoves Shipley into the corner and begins stomping him violently to a chorus of boos from the crowd. Face-Eater picks Shipley up for a brain buster and nails it right in the middle of the ring to the young Englishman. Face-Eater makes the lazy cover.
ONE!
TWO!
Shipley’s shoulder shoots off the canvas, showing he’s got something left in the tank. Face-Eater looks like he’s eager to dispose of Shipley just as he has disposed of The Educator. Face-Eater sets Shipley up for the Eaterplex ‘05, but Shipley counters it into a back suplex. Shipley is quick to work on Face-Eater, nailing him in the head with a series of fist drops and elbow drops. Shipley lifts Face-Eater up to his feet, and despite from resistance from Face-Eater, Shipley manages to deliver a stump-pulling piledriver to Face-Eater!
Hans Heinemann: The reaction from the crowd says it all! They’re amazed at what’s unfolding before them here.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Oh, the brutality! CRUMPETS! TEA!
Miguel Rodriguez: This has turned into a one-on-one match, too, and it doesn’t look like The Educator will have a say in what happens during the rest of this match.
Shipley is given a huge pop from the fans inside Earl’s Court after the high impact piledriver. The crowd urge Shipley to keep it up, and Shipley obliges. Shipley whips Face-Eater off the ropes and catches him squarely in the jaw with a dropkick. Shipley decides to make the cover.
ONE!
TWO!
Suddenly, Shipley is dragged off Face-Eater… by The Educator. The Educator, somehow back on his feet and in some stable condition after the vicious DDT, lifts Shipley up and slams him down to the mat. The Educator gives a mock salute to the fans, then delivers a leg drop across Shipley’s throat.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: The Educator’s back! He’s - he’s invincible!
Hans Heinemann: Recovering that quickly from something like that must mean he has super powers, at least. But let’s not be absurd.
Miguel Rodriguez: No, let’s be absurd for once. He has super powers. End of!
The Educator deals with Face-Eater, throwing him over the top rope. However, Face-Eater lands on the apron and pulls The Educator’s neck down onto the rope. The Educator goes flying into the air holding his neck in pain. Face-Eater climbs to the top rope and dives off, landing on The Educator with a splash. Shipley quickly intervenes, though, and whips Face-Eater off the ropes. Shipley catches Face-Eater and executes a side backbreaker.
Hans Heinemann: Shipley desperately trying to re-assert himself in this contest, it seems. With these two opponents, though, he’ll be hard pressed to get the win.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: You gotta have faith, faith, faith! Like George Michael said, Hans.
Miguel Rodriguez: BAAAABY!
Hans Heinemann: Stop that now or die.
Shipley uses his technical expertise and locks on a Boston crab on Face-Eater. Face-Eater is trapped in the middle of the ring, with seemingly no route to escape the painful hold. The Educator is still outside the ring, most likely biding his time. Face-Eater looks ready to tap out when The Educator finally intervenes with a lazy boot to the back of Shipley’s head. Face-Eater escapes, going to the outside to recuperate.
Hans Heinemann: Clever move by Face-Eater. He needs to take his time and chill outside the ring for the moment. No rush whatsoever.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Shipley’s coming up from behind on Educator, though!
Miguel Rodriguez: Eek!
Shipley sneaks up behind The Educator and sets him up for a reverse DDT. However, The Educator reverses. The Educator lifts Shipley up for a body press slam to the amazement of the crowd. Shipley tries to wiggle his way out, but is propelled from inside the ring to outside the ring by The Educator. Shipley falls about ten feet, landing awkwardly on the barricade. The crowd boo The Educator as he turns around just in time to see Face-Eater balanced perfectly on the top rope.
Hans Heinemann: Face-Eater’s about to jump!!!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: NOOOOO!
Miguel Rodriguez: Don’t do it!
Face-Eater dives off, looking for a tornado DDT. The Educator has him scouted, though, and stops him in his tracks. With little effort, The Educator delivers the death blow, Detention, to Face-Eater. The Educator collapses in fatigue onto Face-Eater for the pinfall.
ONE!
TWO!
Hans Heinemann: Here’s Shipley crawling back into the ring!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Come on Shipley!
Miguel Rodriguez: He’s not gonna make it…
THREE! Hans Heinemann: That’s it for Face-Eater! Of course, this being an elimination match, The Educator still has to beat the severely weakened Shipley.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: No problem… but I’m sort of hoping Shipley has a revival.
Miguel Rodriguez: Here comes The Educator.
The Educator makes his way to the outside of the ring where Shipley lies motionless and beaten on the protective mats. The Educator hauls Shipley up and over his shoulder and throws him back into the ring like he was a rag doll. Chants for Shipley begin once more, but The Educator quickly delivers Detention to Shipley, flattening him on the mat like a pancake. The Educator makes the cover.
Miguel Rodriguez: DETENTION! CONNECTS AGAIN!
ONE!
Hans Heinemann: The Educator is on song!
TWO!
Hans Heinemann: Three! Come on!
THREE!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: The Educator wins! He’s the new Frontier champion!
Miguel Rodriguez: I always knew he’d win, to be honest. My beeeeg boy sensed it.
The Educator is handed the Frontier championship. He walks away with a cocky grin on his face and brimming with confidence. The crowd boo The Educator as he heads up the ramp way, title in tow.
Hans Heinemann: The Educator has deservedly won the Frontier championship tonight in what was a tough match. I’m over the moon he’s won.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: POTATOES! CRUMPETS! TEA! QUEEN!
Miguel Rodriguez: Next match for him is the main event… could we see a new Transatlantic champion, too? That would be incredible feet. Er, feat. We’ll find out later tonight.
FEATURING: ANDY MURRAY, SARAH KENNEDY
AUTHOR: ANDY MURRAY
Certainly not for the first time in the evening, we cut to the backstage area, where we find Andy Murray standing ready, decked out in his ring-attire, beside Sarah Kennedy, who looks primed and ready to give an interview.
Sarah Kennedy: Andy Murray, we're just moments away from the biggest night of your young AWC career thus far; the Best of British match, pitting you against Mike Wade, The British Bomber, and Adalia Delorian...
The crowd inside the arena give a pop as Bomber's name is read out.
Sarah Kennedy: ...do you think you can pull off the victory tonight? Not just for you, but for the Scottish nation?
Andy Murray: Well Sarah, I could stand here and rant all night about Scotland being the premier British country, but instead, let me recite you a fine piece of literature...
Murray delves down into his pocked, and soon pulls out a piece of folded up paper. He soon has the paper unfolded, and after clearing his throat, begins to read.
Andy Murray: The average Englishman – or Irishman, or Welshman, for that matter – in the home he calls his castle, slips into his national costume – a shabby raincoat, patented by chemist Charles Macintosh from Glasgow, Scotland. En route to his office he strides along an English lane, surfaced by John Macadam of Ayr, Scotland. He drives an English car fitted with tyres invented by John Boyd Dunlop, Veterinary Surgeon of Dreghom, Scotland, and at the office he receives the mail bearing adhesive stamps invented by John Chalmers, Bookseller and Printer of Dundee...
Andy pauses for a brief moment to gather his breath, before continuing...
Andy Murray: During the day he uses the telephone invented by Alexander Graham Bell, born in Edinburgh, Scotland. At home in the evening his daughter pedals her bicycle invented by Kirkpatrick Macmillan, Blacksmith of Thornhill, Dumfriesshire, Scotland. He watches the news on TV, an invention of John Logie Baird of Helensburgh, Scotland, and hears an item about the US Navy, founded by John Paul Jones of Kirkbean, Scotland.
He flips the paper over.
Andy Murray: Nowhere can a British man turn to escape the ingenuity of the Scots. He has by now been reminded too much of Scotland and in desperation he picks up the bible, only to find that the first man mentioned in the good book is a Scot – King James VI – who authorised its translation. He could take to drink, but the Scots make the best in the world. He could take a rifle and end it all but the breech-loading rifle was invented by Captain Patrick Ferguson of Pitfours, Scotland. If he escaped death, he could find himself on an operating table injected with Penicillin, discovered by Sir Alexander Fleming of Darvel, Scotland, and given Chloroform, an anaesthetic discovered by Sir James Young Simpson, Obstetrician and Gynaecologist of Bathgate, Scotland.
By now, any patriotic Englishman in the crowd is now jeering his or her heart out.
Andy Murray: Out of the anaesthetic he would find no comfort in learning that he was as safe as the Bank of England, founded by William Paterson of Dumfries, Scotland. Perhaps his only remaining hope would be to get a transfusion of good Scottish blood, which would entitle him to ask, "wha's like us?"...
Murray screws the paper into a ball, and tosses it over his shoulder aimlessly.
Andy Murray: ...Damn few, and they're all dead!
With that, Andy leaves the scene, fired up to be representing his country in tonight's match-up.
FEATURING: RED ROCK, BOOLIE, FREDROCK~!
AUTHOR: JOSH YOUNG
The scene cuts back to Red Rock's locker room, he has now cleaned up most the mess made by angry anonymous AWC superstars. Red Rock is now preparing himself for his match later tonight. He pulls up his brand new specially made wrestling tights. They are black with red white and blue stripes down the leg, representing the colours of Britain. He new boots are black with white laces and have RR in blue and white writing with red outlines.
Red Rock: Fucking Jamie Shock, I'll tell you what I'd like to kick his arse... fucking rasclart!
Boolie: Don't let him get to you Red, you got to focus on not get totally SPANKED~! tonight!
Red Rock: Yes thank you Boolie, I'll try not to get spanked by the idiot with the red head. Or what about the teacher?
Red Rock bends down to tie up his boots when they hear a knock at the door.
Red Rock: Oh no... I'm not in the mood to be taking more shit!
The door bursts open and into shot enters the invincible FREDROCK~!
Red Rock: OH thank God it's only you Fred Rock..
Red Rock sighs with relief as the presence of FREDROCK~! isn't that threatening to Red Rock.
FREDROCK~!: I got something to say to you!
FREDROCK~! speaks in a slightly angered tone, which grabs Red Rock's attention. Red Rock looks up at FREDROCK~! in disgust.
Red Rock: What?
FREDROCK~!: First you copy my name! AND NOW you take my rightful place in the main event tonight!
Red Rock winces his eyes at FREDROCK~! to try and make sense of what he is saying.
Red Rock: What they fuck are you going on about Freddy?
FREDROCK~!: Don't you dare call me FREDDY! It’s THE INVINCIBLE FREDROCK~! And if you think you deserve this shot you got another think coming!
Red Rock: Look Freddy, I didn't ask for the shot! It was all the luck of the draw! Maybe once you finally become Fresh!man you might have a shot! But that will never happen because you're the janitor! Now get the fuck out of here and go clean my fucking shit out of the bogs!
Red Rock shoves FREDROCK~! towards the door and slams it behind him.
Red Rock: I'm starting to doubt whether it’s even worth me bothering with this match Boolie, no one wants to see me in it!
Boolie: Don't be a prick Red! This is your chance to make a name for yourself! Why should you care what the janitor thinks. You're going to go in there and wipe your ass with them!
Red Rock: Yeah I suppose! I didn't just buy these swish new tights just to get the stuffing knocked out of me!
Boolie slaps Red Rock across the back in support.
Boolie: That's the spirit! Now go out there and clean house!
THE BRITISH BOMBER (ENG) VS ANDY MURRAY (SCO) VS MIKE WADE (IRL) VS ADALIA DELORIAN (WAL)
STIPULATION: FLAGPOLE MATCH
REFEREE: LARS LARSSON
AUTHOR: PIERRE HYDE
An image of the Union Jack fills the video screen, and the arena becomes silent as all attention turns towards it. A sudden explosion surprises many within Earl’s Court as the flag separates into its four constituent parts: those of England, Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland, though in fact it is not the flag of Northern Ireland but that of the Republic of Ireland shown here, as AWC continues to gloss over the fact that Ireland – to be represented by Mike Wade in the upcoming Best Of British match – is not actually a part of Britain.
Four headshots now appear superimposed over each flag in each screen quarter. First, The British Bomber, getting a small cheer as he is confirmed as England’s representative. The grinning face of the undefeated Andy Murray now appears over the Scottish flag, and his crowd pop for him is far more intense. These cheers turn to boos as Wade appears in front of the green, white and orange-gold of Ireland, and the reaction for debutant Adalia Delorian, playing for Wales here, is totally mixed.
Hans Heinemann: It’s now time for the Best Of British match.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: GO WADEY!
Miguel Rodriguez: But you no like Wade.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: I know... but he’s Irish, at least.
Miguel Rodriguez: But you like Murray a lot.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Yes, yes I do...
Hans Heinemann: Why don’t you two leave this for another time as we concentrate on the match rules? James Brunt is about to explain them to us.
Ring announcer Brunt steps into the ring – whose turnbuckles now each boast a different flag, on a short pole roped tightly to the ringpost – wearing a startlingly bright suit in the colours of the British flag: red, white and blue. Brunt himself is holding four flags, these only the canvasses without poles on which to display them.
James Brunt: The following is the Best Of British match! The rules for this match are as follows: all four wrestlers will be active at all times! There will be no disqualifications or count-outs! The match will end when one wrestler suspends his flag –
Brunt holds up his left hand, showing the four flags to the crowd.
James Brunt: – from the flagpole above the entrance-way!
Everyone looks at the entrance-way, and sure enough, built into the structure above the stage, there is a flagpole protruding about twenty feet up.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: How are they supposed to get up there?
The ring announcer’s next call unwittingly answers the commentator’s question.
James Brunt: One ladder will be provided for the competitors’ use.
On cue, Bruno Hague comes through the curtain with a ladder over his shoulder. He sets it down to one side of the stage and heads back where he came from. Next to come through the curtain is the referee for this match, Lars Larsson.
Hans Heinemann: Lars Larsson, who is a cut above all the other AWC referees, will take charge of this contest. He always gets the difficult matches.
Miguel Rodriguez: Exactly what is hard about thees match? There is no count-out, no disqualification... and no pin, no submission! There nothing for ref to do!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Yeah, and his name’s also a rip-off of yours, Hans.
Hans Heinemann: I fail to see it...
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Here, borrow my spectacles.
Silence.
Miguel Rodriguez: Dooby, you no have any spectacle.
Silence.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: This match will be a TRUE spectacle! I, for one, am looking forward to it –
God save our gracious Queen
Long live our noble Queen
God save the Queen
The British Bomber steps onto the stage, hand on heart, singing loudly along with most of the fans here in Earl’s Court to the English national anthem.
Send her victorious
Happy and glorious
Long to reign over us
God save the Queen
Miguel Rodriguez: Thank God, it’s ov –
Thy choicest gifts in store
On her be pleased to pour
Hans Heinemann: Aha! We have the second verse! Excellent.
Long may she reign
May she defend our laws
And ever give us cause
To sing with heart and voice
God save the Queen
The anthem comes to a close and the 15,000 fans in attendance burst into applause.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: National pride is running HIGH! POTATOES!
Miguel Rodriguez: Why aren’t my homelands represented in this match! DISCRIMINATION!
Hans Heinemann: Miguel... Portugal, Spain and Mexico aren’t in Britain.
Miguel Rodriguez: (paying attention to something different) Eleven! (seeing Hans) Que?
The British Bomber strides solemnly down to the ring and enters. Brunt’s call sounds wrong, made simply over the noise of the fans rather than any entrance music; of course he couldn’t make the announcement over the national anthem.
James Brunt: Introducing first, from Birmingham, England, weighing in at 230 pounds... THE BRITISH BOMBER!
Bomber garners far more cheers than his appearance on the big screen did earlier, primarily due to the spirit running through all the Englishmen inside the venue. He does still receive some vicious comments, though – ”Dirty Brummie!”.
Mae hen wlad fy nhadau yn annwyl i mi
Gwlad beirdd a chantorion, enwogion o fri
Ei gwrol ryfelwyr, gwladgarwyr tra mâd
Tros ryddid gollasant eu gwaed
Hans Heinemann: Quick translation for you: The land of my fathers, the land of my choice, the land in which poets and minstrels rej – oh, this is stupid.
Gwlad, Gwlad, pleidiol wyf i'm gwlad
Tra môr yn fur i'r bur hoff bau
O bydded i'r hen iaith barhau
Adalia Delorian stands on the stage, looking out, bemused, at the few bands of rowdy Welsh singing at the top of their lungs.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Why isn’t he singing? I thought all the wrestler were supposed to sing their anthems!
Hans Heinemann: David, Adalia Delorian is not Welsh. I cannot believe he is even out here... this has gone far enough. Our viewers who missed Fresh!burst must be updated now, I suppose: newcomer Adalia Delorian appeared on the scene just as Andy Murray’s hunt for a Welshman to compete in this match reached its peak of desperation, and deceitfully he claimed to be Welsh.
Miguel Rodriguez: No Hans!
Hans Heinemann: What do you think then, Miguel?
Miguel “The Midget” Rodriguez looks at his commentary partner, momentarily baffled.
Miguel Rodriguez: No no. No hands. Look! I spurt with no –
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: POTATOES!
Delorian, his eyebrow cocked, walks slowly down to the ring, clearly having second thoughts about having volunteered to represent Wales here.
Hans Heinemann: Delorian is seeing the flipside of injecting himself into a high spot on the card. He’s being booed by everyone here. The English supporters, the Irish supporters, the Scottish supporters, and the Welsh supporters, who can see him for what he is: a cheat! A liar!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Alright alright he made a mistake.
Miguel Rodriguez: Yeah! Give the n00b a chance!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: But... he doesn’t have a chance. Not against my boy Andy Murray, nor against Mike Wade, who is IRISH and therefore must have some good in him. You know, he needs to get a good Guinness down him...
Hans Heinemann: Isn’t “Good Guinness” an oxymoron?
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Good Guinness, no!
Miguel Rodriguez: Is that pun on “Good God”?
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Ya...
Miguel Rodriguez: It no work.
James Brunt: His opponent, from... er... Wales... weighing in at 201 pounds... “Absolute Zero” ADALIA DELORIAN!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Ooh, he’s got a fancy nickname.
Hans Heinemann: Fancy that.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Er, boom boom, Hans...?
We'll sing a song, a soldier's song
With cheering rousing chorus
DOOB~! squeals and falls off his seat. A moment later, he begins to “sing” at the top of his voice, causing numerous kittens to die. Including Steven Xandrocat. No one is going to get that “numerous” dig except Kerry and me, but who cares?
As round our blazing fires we throng
The starry heavens o'er us
Mike Wade makes his entrance at the top of the stage, his trusty sidekick Mickey Moore at his side, and sings along loudly.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Look, Miggy! He’s your height! He can be your friend!
Miguel Rodriguez: No, he has no beeg boy.
Impatient for the coming fight
And as we wait the morning's light
Here in the silence of the night
We'll chant a soldier's song
Hans Heinemann: Why aren’t they using the authentic Irish Gaelic version?
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: ...SONG – because tha’ gypsy Wade doesn’t understand it.
Soldiers are we
Whose lives are pledged to Ireland
Some have come
From a land beyond the wave
Sworn to be free
No more our ancient sire land
Shall shelter the despot or the slave
Tonight we man the gap of danger
In Erin's cause, come woe or weal
Amid cannons’ roar and rifles’ peal
We'll chant a soldier's song
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: DAMN STRAIGHT! IRRRRRELAND! GO GET ‘EM WADEY!
Miguel Rodriguez: Dooby, you no like Wade.
Hans Heinemann: Not this AGAIN...
Wade struts towards the ring, while his midget Mickey Moore takes a seat on a chair at ringside, swinging his legs well clear of the floor.
James Brunt: And their opponent, being accompanied to the ring by Mickey Moore, currently ‘vacationing’ in Miami, Florida, weighing in at 209 and three-quarter pounds... “His Swerviness” MIKE WADE!
Hans Heinemann: I hate that call. He’s taking a holiday in Miami – who cares? Tell us where he’s actually from.
The boos for Wade – which contrasted with cheers for Ireland in general – make way for a huge burst of cheering as new fan favourite Andy Murray appears on the stage, arms spread wide.
O Flower of Scotland
When will we see
Your like again
That fought and died for
Your wee bit Hill and Glen
And stood against him
Proud Edward's Army
And sent him homeward
Tae think again
Murray’s voice continues to roar out from the stage as all the Scots in the arena take up the opportunity to show their – uh – musical dominance.
The Hills are bare now
And Autumn leaves
lie thick and still
O'er land that is lost now
Which those so dearly held
That stood against him
Proud Edward's Army
And sent him homeward
Tae think again
Hans Heinemann: Well, the anthems are finally over... that’s good at least...
Murray, a tear in his eye, steps into the ring.
James Brunt: Finally, from Aberdeen, Scotland, weighing in at 270 pounds... ANDY MURRAY!
The Scottish King of Cool now points a hand at the Scottish flag drooping from one turnbuckle and makes a motion with his hand as if shooting a gun. With perfect timing, a jet of air shoots up from beneath, and the flag begins to flutter as if in the wind, to approving noises from the crowd.
Miguel Rodriguez: Wow! I did not know zey were going to do that!
Hans Heinemann: Thanks for that... nugget.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Nugget? WHO GOT MCDONALD’S AND DIDN’T TELL ME?
Fan In First Row: Oh, I did. Here.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Thanks!
DOOB~! crunches into his nugget as Mike Wade, Adalia Delorian and The British Bomber set off their own flags’ constant air streams in a similar way. They now stand in their respective corners, Lars Larsson in the ring’s centre, swivelling slowly to look at all of them.
Hans Heinemann: This is a solemn moment. This is more than a wrestling contest... this match will prove once and for all which country is the Best Of British!
Miguel Rodriguez: No it won’t...
Hans Heinemann: Correct, but let’s at least try and sell it.
DING! DING! DING!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: (though a mouthful of nugget) Woogh eurghableurgh.
Hans Heinemann: Yes, we’re underway...
Murray and Bomber automatically gravitate towards each other, the mutual respect between them commanding an immediate face-off. It is clear that this pairing will see the greater technical show in the early part of this match; Mike Wade’s movement towards the slightly lighter Adalia Delorian has already begun a sequence of fast punch-kick.
Hans Heinemann: Delorian showing little skill in his AWC debut...
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Hans, you’ve given him all of five seconds.
Hans Heinemann: Ja, but he has a woman’s name.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: I won’t dispute that.
Murray moves behind Bomber into a waistlock and now applies a full nelson hold. A moment later, he lifts the 230-pounder up into the air and completes the full nelson slam.
Miguel Rodriguez: Andy Murray uses the power that he has!
Hans Heinemann: Nice full nelson slam.
Delorian finds the spot with a thrust kick to the top of the thigh and Wade loses his balance, falling to the mat. Delorian immediately drops down with him and delivers some fast left-handed blows to the forehead, as Larsson watches with interest. Meanwhile, Murray drags TBB into the turnbuckle and gives him a kick to the ribs, smiling out at the crowd.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Go on Murrr! He’s already taken control. Strike while the lion is hot, that’s what I say.
Larsson warns “Absolute Zero” Adalia Delorian off for use of the closed fist; nodding, Delorian relents and stands. Wade suddenly lurches upwards and drives a fist into Delorian’s REGIONS~!
Miguel Rodriguez: I FELT THAT!
Wide-eyed, Larsson pulls Wade to his feet and lays down the law, barking harsh orders at him. With a gasp, Delorian staggers over to the corner and grabs the turnbuckle, holding his injured area with one hand.
Hans Heinemann: Mike Wade doing the typical Wade thing and resorting to dirty tactics.
Murray, with another kick to Bomber’s ribs enough to temporarily subdue him, turns round and goes after Wade, pushing past the referee to sling him into the ropes. On his return, though, His Swerviness is able to slide through Murray’s legs and leap forward into a jumping neckbreaker on the Scottish King of Cool.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Wadey takes Murray down with a nice neckbreaker.
Wade doesn’t see Delorian, though, who comes out of nowhere with a crescent kick to the crown of his head. His lights out, Wade staggers back against the ropes, and Delorian bends to lift him around the waist. With a slow turn, Delorian lifts Wade as high as possible and then dumps him down on the canvas with a punishing spinebuster, taking comfort from the Irishman’s muffled yell on impact.
Hans Heinemann: The faux Welshman is now asserting himself with more confidence.
Miguel Rodriguez: Hey Dave, you don’t happen to have a spare condo do you?
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: ...Do you mean a condom?
Miguel Rodriguez: Don’t mock me, I foreign.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Well, I don’t have any condos.
Hans Heinemann: ...Why are you even having this discussion?
The British Bomber brings Andy Murray up and backslaps him across the face.
Miguel Rodriguez: Ooh, that one was for England.
TBB pulls the SKC in towards him and executes a slow vertical suplex.
Hans Heinemann: Big impact from the suplex. Bomber did well to lift Murray’s 270 pounds –
Bomber is caught unawares by a running dropkick from Adalia Delorian.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: And did even better to ignore the Welshman.
Hans Heinemann: HE’S NOT WELSH!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Seeing is believing...
Hans Heinemann: ...?!
Mike Wade now comes slowly to his feet, but before he can take stock of his surroundings, Delorian is on him, holding his head with one hand and planting shots into it with the other. Absolute Zero now whips Wade into the ropes, but just as Wade rebounds His Swerviness is cut off with a stiff arm across the chin from TBB, causing Wade to slump into the ropes.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: The British Bomber with a tough clothesline.
Bomber now grabs Wade’s legs and flips them up and back, causing Wade to pivot on the top rope and go spinning to the outside. He lands on his feet, but can’t support his landing weight and crumples in a heap, to huge cheers.
Miguel Rodriguez: Mike Wade is not too well liked!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: You give what you get.
Bomber, laughing, turns back around to deal with Delorian, who runs at him with his head down. TBB dodges the attempted attack and allows Delorian to now fall through between the second and third ropes, himself collapsing to ringside right next to Mike Wade.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: POTATOES! They’re all going!
Hans Heinemann: It’s just Andy Murray and The British Bomber left in the ring now...
Miguel Rodriguez: But now Wade and Delorian can get their flags from Brunty! MUCH better idea!
James Brunt stands nearby, still bearing all four national flags. It seems that the wrestlers must first collect their respective flags from the ring announcer before attempting to win the match.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Watch Bomber!
The British Bomber, with Murray down, has now ripped the Scottish flag from its position in the turnbuckle and is taunting the downed Scottish King of Cool with it.
Miguel Rodriguez: HE RUB IT ON HIS BEEG BOY!
Murray, gritting his teeth, pulls himself to his feet and swings a big left arm at TBB, who easily ducks and trips Murray. Murray falls to his hands and knees, and Bomber brings the Scottish flag high overhead and slams it down, catching Murray with the metal pole portion!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Bomber brains Murray with his own flag!
Hans Heinemann: Now that is classy.
Wade and Delorian both get to their feet at ringside; Delorian hits a hiptoss and Wade yells as he hits the floor. Smiling at the fans’ positive reaction, Absolute Zero draws him to his feet and scores a side backbreaker, now letting him drop to the floor as he sees Brunt. Delorian holds his hand out for the Welsh flag, and Brunt hands him the rectangle of material which he must attach to the flagpole above the stage in order to win.
Hans Heinemann: Adalia Delorian collects his flag – well, it’s not really his.
Miguel Rodriguez: The flag of Wales, for he is representing Wales.
Hans Heinemann: ‘Representing’. Ja.
Murray takes Bomber down from the floor, pulling out his legs, and Delorian sees his chance. Dodging around the side of the ring, he hightails it towards the stage, and the crowd begins to roar. Unfortunately for the man representing Wales tonight, Murray hears it, and follows the screams of the fans to where Delorian has now grabbed the ladder. Without a moment’s doubt, Murray leaves the ring and strides up the ramp.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Cool as you like! There goes Andy Murray to sort him out.
Wade crawls to his feet at ringside and demands his flag from the ring announcer. James Brunt hands it over, but His Swerviness, seeing the potential battle over on the stage, chooses to slide into the ring rather than follow Delorian and Murray. Bomber is just getting to his feet, pushing himself up on his front, and Wade now sits over him and arranges the flag over his face.
Hans Heinemann: Mike Wade is shrouding The British Bomber’s face with the Irish flag!
Now that Bomber’s face is totally covered, Wade applies a camel clutch variation, pulling the cloth tight over TBB’s face.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: He’s got the lock in place, and Bomber is going to find it a big ask to simply breathe.
Miguel Rodriguez: Who cares about that? Look at the ladder!
Delorian, looking up at the flagpole’s central position, puts the ladder in place about six feet from the curtain and in the middle of the stage. Murray watches from behind, hands on hips, nodding his approval. The crowd, in on the joke, spur him on, until Delorian finally notices something is up and turns round – to a boot in the gut and Murray’s patented Wake Up!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: WAKE UP, BITCH!
Miguel Rodriguez: Monstrous DDT on the stage!
Hans Heinemann: The fans are raising hell as they cheer Andy Murray.
Back in the ring, Wade is slowly suffocating the struggling Bomber. Lars Larsson looks on in concern but can do little.
Hans Heinemann: Mike Wade is taking this too far. I was aware he and Bomber had a bit of a history, but... surely he doesn’t quite realise how far this has gone? Let go! Stop it!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Lars, do something!
Bomber’s arms give up the fight and slump at his sides as a snarling Mike Wade continues the offence to huge boos all around the arena.
Hans Heinemann: He can’t disqualify him for the use of a foreign object –
Miguel Rodriguez: YES HE CAN! THAT FLAG IS IRISH!
Hans Heinemann: No – no, Miguel...
Larsson finally decides he must intervene, and tries to drag Wade off him. Wade shrugs him off angrily and continues to apply the pressure. Larsson’s eyes flash and he grabs the material, tugging at it hard to try to create at least some kind of air gap for Bomber to breathe. The test of strength seems, however, to be going in Wade’s favour.
Hans Heinemann: He needs help!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: If only Truth were here...
Larsson gives it one last wrench, and suddenly the material rips across the centre. Larsson falls back and rolls into the corner with the sudden momentum shift, clutching one half of the Irish flag tight in his grasp. Wade looks in horror at the part-flag in his hands, and his attention turns to the referee.
Miguel Rodriguez: Larsson’s torn the flag!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Wadey needs that to win!
Wade throws down the material and stomps over to Larsson, picking him up and holding him, gorilla press style, above his head.
Hans Heinemann: OH MY GOD!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: He’s got the referee in the air!
Miguel Rodriguez: Put him down!
Wade sneers and drops Larsson from above; the referee crashes to the mat.
Miguel Rodriguez: GENTLY!
Hans Heinemann: This is a disgusting assault on the official.
On the stage, Murray had stopped to watch the action in the ring. Now he turns to Delorian, who is only just crawling to his feet, blood streaking his face from a horrible gash on his scalp.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Ooh... Delorian is bleeding heavily.
Murray knees Delorian in the gut and pulls hard, setting him up on his shoulders.
Miguel Rodriguez: Oh no! I see where the Scottish King is going with this!
Hans Heinemann: He’s not technically THE king...
Murray delivers the powerbomb!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: POWERBOMB ON THE STAGE!
The steel of the stage has dented slightly, Delorian now lying in a six-inch depression just where the stage becomes ramp. All the fans in Earl’s Court have come to their feet, some desperately clawing for cameras as Adalia Delorian lies flat-out, arms useless at his sides, eyes glazing over. Murray’s expression turns to that of concern as he sees how serious this may be.
Hans Heinemann: Andy Murray certainly didn’t consider Delorian’s well-being! But to his credit, he is doing so now.
Miguel Rodriguez: So now we have THREE to worry about... The British Bomber who seem unconscious, Lars Larsson our referee who is not moving, and now Alaidalalalia!
Hans Heinemann: ...Adalia Delorian.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Bless you.
Murray bends down, slapping Delorian’s face lightly to try to get some kind of response from the wrestler he just felled. Meanwhile, Larsson rolls onto his front in the ring, but Bomber is still unmoving as he lies on his front. “His Swerviness” Mike Wade has decided that he can use the turnbuckle flag as a substitute; he pulls the flagpole from its holder (now leaving only the English and Welsh flags fluttering at opposite corners) and unties the actual material of the flag from the pole. Rolling it up, he decides it will hamper his progress to hold it, and with a big smile shoves it into his tights.
Miguel Rodriguez: PLEASE DON’T TURN ME ON!
Wade now rolls out of the ring and runs up the ramp, his hateful eyes on Murray, who is bent down with his back to him, still trying to help Delorian. To kind cheers from the fans who can see it, Delorian flexes an arm and moves it, his eyes opening as he slowly nods in response to whatever Murray has said.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Delorian moves!
Miguel Rodriguez: Great!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: But of more immediate concern to Andy Murray, here’s Wade...
Murray smiles and stands, just as Wade taps him on the shoulder. Jerked into action, Murray spins backwards into a defensive pose and is able to block Wade’s attempted mid kick. In fact, he holds the boot, and Wade tries to use this to launch into an enziguri, but Murray ducks the swinging leg and allows Wade to fall into a heap, his legs tangled beneath him.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: POTATOES! Haha!
Hans Heinemann: Andy Murray outwits Mike Wade and leaves him lying on the ramp due entirely to his own foolishness.
Breathing heavily, Murray grins down at Wade’s body – and then turns his head slowly towards the ladder, and more importantly, what is at its top. The crowd roars.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: MURRR IS GOING FOR THE WIN!
Hans Heinemann: Er, no, David. He has no flag.
“Oh, shit!” Murray exclaims, and sprints back to ringside and James Brunt, who still holds the English and Scottish flags. Murray takes his flag – and impulsively grabs the English flag too and tosses it into the crowd, precipitating a huge scramble for this unique piece of memorabilia.
Hans Heinemann: He cannot do that!
Miguel Rodriguez: No chance for Bomber anyhow; he doesn’t seem to be conscious!
Finally, Matt Matthews and Jin Osaka emerge from the entrance-way, hurrying down the ramp to see to TBB in the ring, where Lars Larsson is now on his feet. Larsson taps Bomber on the back, but he doesn’t get a response, and begins to confer with the two medics.
On the stage, Adalia Delorian sits up.
Miguel Rodriguez: Well done Alidali!
Hans Heinemann: Delorian is OK after taking that powerbomb from Andy Murray.
Wade scrambles to his feet and puts a sleeper hold on Delorian.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: A sleeper from Wade...
Miguel Rodriguez: That is not what he needs.
Murray hurries back up the ramp, Scottish flag wrapped around his right fist, and leaps into a low dropkick to Wade’s head, pinging it away with pinpoint accuracy.
Hans Heinemann: Murray takes Wade out, not harming Delorian at all in the process.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Hey, it wouldn’t’ve mattered if he did. Sure, Murrr’s a nice guy, but nothing and no one is going to get in the way of him winning this match.
Delorian grins his sheepish thanks, but the Scottish King of Cool has already moved on and is a quarter of the way up the ladder to victory! The atmosphere in the arena is jubilant.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: MURRAY TO WIN!
Delorian and Wade both rush to their feet. Wade throws himself at the ladder, and with Andy Murray halfway up, it starts to topple!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: NOOOOO!
His eyes widening, Murray glances down. Seeing his steely fate, he leaps off, his heart in his mouth – and having judged the jump perfectly, crashes hard against the rigging alongside the entrance curtain! After a split-second to recover, Murray looks up and finds a handhold in the criss-crossing thin sections of metal, pulling himself up the wall!
Hans Heinemann: Murray cheats – well, not quite death – but is now finding an alternative route to victory!
Miguel Rodriguez: He swapped the ladder for the rigging in mid-air!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: All his 270 pounds crashing hard into that rigging – I’m a little surprised it didn’t collapse.
Delorian grabs the ladder and sets it up again right beneath the flagpole. His Welsh flag tied around his neck like – well, a necktie – he prepares to climb. Meanwhile, Mike Wade drops off the side of the stage and begins to rummage underneath. A second later, he brings out his prize – a folded-up table.
Miguel Rodriguez: Wade has a table!
Hans Heinemann: He knew that was there. He must have planted it earlier.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: But what are his intentions here?
In the ring, The British Bomber has finally been revived, no thanks to Matt Matthews who managed to douse everyone in anaesthetic. Nobody really knows why he even had anaesthetic out there with him in the first place, but the results is that Lars Larsson, Jin Osaka and Matthews himself are all looking extremely groggy. TBB crawls slowly away from them, even finding the strength to roll his eyes.
Hans Heinemann: It seems The British Bomber is OK.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Uh...
Miguel Rodriguez: THUMB UP!
Hans Heinemann: it’s “thumbs up”, Miguel.
Miguel Rodriguez: No no! I have my thumb up my –
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: ARSEnal have a big match coming up this Sunday. Do you follow football, Miggy?
Miguel Rodriguez: Football? What, pussy rugby?
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: No, I mean soccer football.
Miguel Rodriguez: Ah! Naturalmente!
Andy Murray is making slow progress up the rigging. Clearly tired out from the great effort he has to make in pulling himself up a structure that wasn’t designed for climbing, he’s still a good ten feet from the flagpole, protruding tantalisingly above him. Adalia Delorian, on the ladder, is making faster progress, and has caught up with Murrr, halfway up the ladder. Wade sets up the table between the ladder and the curtain, and begins to climb the other side of it, much to Delorian’s annoyance.
Hans Heinemann: It’s high stakes over on the stage...
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: I don’t even wanna think about what Mike Wade has planned for that table! One thing is for sure: it’s gonna be POTATOES!
The British Bomber pulls himself up, with the aid of the bottom and middle ropes. He is clearly in no fit state to compete, though, having been out of it for a good couple of minutes. In fact, TBB can barely stand, but he forces himself to do so, watching what he imagines must be the closing stages of this match.
And it’s Adalia Delorian who is closing in on glory. Rung by rung, foot by foot, the illegitimate entrant climbs – pulling well ahead of Andy Murray, who is struggling on the wall.
Hans Heinemann: Looks like Delorian can’t be stopped...
But Heinemann reckoned without Mike Wade’s special low blow through the rungs.
Wade stretches out a hand – forms a fist – through the rungs, and swings upwards. Delorian’s face turns purple for the second time in the match. His body threatens to topple, but his hands cling on tight. And once more, the ladder starts to fall. Wade is alert: he leaps off, emulating Murray’s dive from ladder to rigging, and in fact landing right on the Scotsman, clinging to his tights as he desperately struggles to avoid a fifteen foot fall. Delorian’s escape comes later in the day, but he is unhurt as he jumps away to land on his feet just as the ladder crashes to the stage floor and distorts on impact.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: The ladder falls!
Miguel Rodriguez: And it all bent now!
Hans Heinemann: It’s between Murray and Wade! Murray can’t advance as Wade as clinging to him so tightly!
Delorian determinedly throws himself against the wall himself and begins to climb, forcing his fingers between the metal mesh as Murray did before him. There seems no hope for him... or does there?
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Come on Murrr! Throw him off!
Kicking his legs just isn’t enough. Murray’s got to bring an arm off the rigging to strike Wade down. Just one blow to the head. That’s all he needs. But he’s got to be quick, or he won’t be able to retain his grip on the rigging, especially not for that split-second when he’ll be supporting two bodies.
Murray sighs – and makes his mistake.
He brings his stronger hand away from the wall to hit Wade – and his weaker hand can’t hold up the combined 479 pounds (hey, don’t forget the extra three-quarters). They fall. Fifteen feet. They crash through the table.
Ouch.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: CARNAGE!
Hans Heinemann: Murray and Wade just fell a legitimate fifteen feet through that table!
Miguel Rodriguez: That is five metres for the European fans...
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Wade ruined it for Andy Murray!
The British Bomber watches hopelessly from the ring, seeing Murray and Wade unmoving in a pile of table debris and bent ladder. Adalia Delorian can’t believe his luck.
Hans Heinemann: It’s open! It’s there for him!
Delorian climbs, and climbs, and climbs. Just a few more feet...
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Come on Murray! Get up!
Just a couple more feet...
Miguel Rodriguez: My beeg boy! It hurts!
Just one more foot...
And he’s there.
He unties the flag from around his neck.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Don’t drop it, now!
Adalia Delorian raises the Welsh flag over Earl’s Court.
He’s won the Best Of British match.
The Welsh are the superior race.
But Delorian isn’t even Welsh... is he?
Hans Heinemann: Whoa, whoa, whoa! Careful!
He topples! Is he to fall? Shaking, Delorian grabs the flagpole with both hands, and a second later, he’s hanging from it – dangling twenty feet above the dented stage. Twenty feet above the distorted ladder and broken table and shattered bodies of Andy Murray and Mike Wade.
He inches his way back along the flagpole. Stretches. Grabs the steel. And climbs down. Slowly. The crowd’s cheers washing over him more than the Oxwich Bay tide ever did.
James Brunt: The winner of the Best Of British match... Adalia Delorian, representing... WALES!
Delorian jumps the last few feet to the stage, where Murray and Wade are now starting to stir in the wreckage. James Brunt meets him here and raises his arm – and the debutant realises that, though he hasn’t quite achieved the popularity of vanquished opponent Andy Murray, he has won himself some fans with his gutsy performance on pay-per-view tonight.
Hans Heinemann: That’s going to take one big clean-up operation. Luckily, the main event isn’t taking place in the arena. We’ll soon be seeing five men face off on a London tour bus! But for now, let’s just absorb this unique atmosphere of national pride, friendship and unity. Adalia Delorian wins... Adalia Delorian is king...
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: But he’s not even Welsh!
PIERCE LAVELLE (C) VS THE EDUCATOR VS PADDY O'SHEA VS HATE VS RED ROCK
STIPULATION: LONDON TOUR BUS MATCH
REFEREE: MICHAEL RYAN
AUTHOR: PIERRE HYDE
Miguel Rodriguez: Now the time comes for the last match of tonight!
Hans Heinemann: Yes, it’s about time to hand over to our mystery commentators who are standing by on the top deck of the traditional red double-decker bus outside the arena.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: This match is going to be incredible! Pierce Lavelle, Paddy O’Shea, The Educator and Red Rock –
Hans Heinemann: Who doesn’t have a chance...
Miguel Rodriguez: Come on come on, we use too much time! Let us make the switch over quickly. For I must fetch new underw –
Hans Heinemann: It’s goodbye from AWC’s official Battle Of Britain commentary team!
Miguel Rodriguez: Thank you... and...
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: POTATOES!
The video screen now shows an external view of Earl’s Court, zooming in from far away to show a roofless London tour bus parked just outside the entrance to the arena. As our shot moves closer, we can see that the letters “AWC” have replaced the usual numbers at the front and back of the bus, which is empty apart from the bus driver, who sits quietly in his seat, a flat leather cap perched over his head. He refuses to acknowledge the camera, evidently doing his job to the letter, and now the feed switches to another camera, positioned on the top deck, which sweeps along the aisle, showing the empty seats as it moves towards the back, now showing that a custom commentary set has been built into where the backseat would have gone. Multiple monitors sit on a cool metal surface, supported above the floor. Behind it sit the two commentators for the Streets Of London match – and fans the world over cheer the return of two well-known men to AWC duty.
Truth Waters and George Cassidy.
Truth Waters: It’s Truth and George, live on the bus itself, and I bet you weren’t expecting this!
George Cassidy: Neither was I, Truth, until I got the call earlier in the week from that disorganised David Harber...
Truth Waters: I’m not complaining. Fans the world over are going to witness one of the most innovative, exciting and...
George Cassidy: Touristy matches ever created.
Truth Waters: That’s right, and we get to call the action first-hand! Word from our driver is that we’re about to begin, so try to control yourselves as the camera moves off of me and downstairs, where tonight’s competitors are due to board the bus.
The camera does just that, as Pierce Lavelle steps into view, his Transatlantic gold on display as he unbuckles the title belt from his waist and hands it to Michael Ryan, who is standing by, with just a little hesitance.
George Cassidy: That’s Pierce Lavelle handing over his belt for the last time, and let’s hope a worthy champion can be crowned tonight.
Truth Waters: Lavelle has led AWC well –
George Cassidy: Harber knows as well as me that that isn’t the case! Why else did he book Lavelle against four other competitors for his title? And please note that Harber has finally paid attention to me and recognised the immense talent of The Educator, who receives a long overdue first Transatlantic title shot!
As if on cue, The Educator now steps up, beaming genially into the camera before following Lavelle aboard the bus.
Truth Waters: He hasn’t got a hope in hell, Cassidy. He’s been through two matches already tonight, thanks to Pearl’s clever plan to get back at him for stealing those belts!
George Cassidy: I maintain that it is a SCANDAL that The Educator was triple-booked for tonight when no one else is in more than one match.
Paddy O’Shea removes his leather hat and hands it to one of the crew before winking at the camera that focuses in on his face. He turns to board, but before he can do so a forceful fist knocks him to the ground.
Truth Waters: Hey!
Hate, wearing his trenchcoat and eerie gas mask, comes into view as he stomps hard again and again on the body of O’Shea, summoning up all the power he can muster to get the better of his bitter rival.
George Cassidy: It’s Hate!
Truth Waters: But... he got pulled from the match after that disgusting attack on Pearl by his... friend, Azagtoth!
George Cassidy: Seemingly he doesn’t understand that he’s not competing tonight.
Truth Waters: Oh I think he understands, Cassidy. He just wants to beat the hell out of the 5’9” Paddy O’Shea!
Hate continues the assault, laying in with kicks as O’Shea twists and turns on the floor trying to avoid the worst of it. Michael Ryan comes over and barks something at Hate, but the gas mask simply turns upwards to regard his face for a moment and takes no notice.
George Cassidy: Oh come on now, let’s at least wait until they’re all aboard...
Truth Waters: Hate isn’t on the best of terms with the Entertainment Manager Pearl right now, and with this assault he isn’t exactly going to endear himself to him. Someone please come and get rid of him!
George Cassidy: We have no security here. Radder, Yorke and Hague are all inside the arena!
Truth Waters: They can’t come quickly enough.
Suddenly, Pierce Lavelle leaps out of the door, hurtling towards Hate and clotheslining him from behind! The blow doesn’t fell Hate, who turns around, his appearance clearly startling Lavelle, who attempts a side kick that again has little effect.
Truth Waters: Lavelle came out to break this up, but the notion seems to be backfiring on him as Hate turns his attention to the Transatlantic champion.
Hate throws off his trenchcoat and shoots out an arm, grabbing Lavelle by the throat. The grip soon has Lavelle turning red, clutching at thin air with his useless hands.
George Cassidy: Hate is choking the life out of Lavelle with his powerful grip.
Truth Waters: He shouldn’t even be here!
O’Shea is now up, though, and a double axe-handle to the back of his head cannot be ignored by The Fifth Horseman, who relents with the chokehold to turn and face his enemy. Desperately, O’Shea launches himself into Hate’s midsection, managing to take the bigger man to the ground. Lavelle doubles up, spluttering and coughing.
Truth Waters: One thing Lavelle did achieve is splitting Hate’s attention, and the two of them together might just be able to suppress the man they call The Nondivine Juggernaut.
George Cassidy: Hate always seems so much heavier than his 225 pounds, don’t you think?
Truth Waters: It’s because of that raw power he possesses in his arms and legs.
Knowing that time is of the essence, O’Shea now rips the gas mask off Hate’s head and tosses it aside, throwing punches thick and fast into Hate’s painted face.
George Cassidy: The smile on Hate’s face belies the fact that O’Shea has the upper hand...
Effortlessly, Hate brings up a hand to block the next punch, wrenching O’Shea’s arm to the side. The Irishman cries out loud as Hate gets to his feet, still holding Paddy by the hand, and kicks hard at the back of his shoulder joint.
Truth Waters: Hate doesn’t often need tactics, but he’s weakening O’Shea’s right arm here. Which would make sense before a match, but if Hate isn’t even competing... you know, I think Hate intends to FORCE his way into this match!
George Cassidy: O’Shea relies far too heavily on his brawling. If Hate works on his arm, those big right hands from the little man are going to be a whole lot less effective.
Truth Waters: That’s right, but it’s not as if O’Shea hasn’t got other offence to fall back on.
George Cassidy: Truth... when you’re fighting Hate, you really don’t have the time to fall back on a second plan.
Lavelle, now up, takes Hate from behind and hits a Russian leg sweep, breaking the hold Hate had on O’Shea, who rolls onto his back, grasping his shoulder. Michael Ryan now tries to escort the champion onto the bus, intending to have the other fighters follow and separate them from Hate, but before this process can even begin, The Educator appears in shot in his trademark Union Jack wrestling singlet, wasting no time in kicking Lavelle in the gut and leaping into his Detention finisher!
George Cassidy: THAT’S THE EDUCATOR! And... DETENTION! The Educator makes an immediate impact!
Truth Waters: Lavelle crumples on the ground, his head being directed right into the tarmac by that jumping DDT!
George Cassidy: It’s every man for himself and the match hasn’t even begun!
Educator now grabs O’Shea by the head and forces him through the door of the bus; the Irishman collapses across the stairs as the redundant driver looks down at him with some kind of sneer.
George Cassidy: Even the bus driver has no respect for that gypsy.
Truth Waters: Hopefully we can actually start the match soon.
The Educator looks to the man he just felled, Pierce Lavelle, and repeats the course of action, forcing him in on top of O’Shea’s body. O’Shea hurries to his feet and gives Lavelle a hand up, staring at The Educator with distaste in his eyes.
Truth Waters: It looks like there’s a certain amount of unity between Lavelle and O’Shea, which may have developed after they combined to bring together the entire AWC roster against UWF a couple of weeks back.
George Cassidy: What happened there anyway? I wasn’t even aware there WAS a feud going on before that.
Truth Waters: We’re out of the loop, Cassidy...
George Cassidy: Well boo-hoo.
Truth Waters: There hasn’t exactly been an accord between the companies over this supposed feud... perhaps AWC is over-reacting. Our entire roster met over it, yet UWF didn’t even mention it at their Stable Wars VII pay-per-view that took place on the same day as Fresh!burst this week.
Hate reaches his feet and rips away his gas mask as The Educator steps onto the bus and pushes his way past O’Shea and Lavelle on his way to the top deck.
George Cassidy: He’s coming up here, Truth!
Truth Waters: I’m watching Hate... look at that glare he’s giving O’Shea and Lavelle. He still intends to get in on this match somehow, I’m sure of it.
George Cassidy: There’s a rulebook here...
The camera moves over to the small group of cars clustered a little distance away from the bus. This area was clearly not meant to be in shot – the camera crew’s debris is visible – but this is where our fourth and final competitor, Red Rock, is standing – or rather, being held by his friend Boolie as he struggles to escape.
Red Rock: I’m not doing it!
Boolie: You have to! This is the Transatlantic title!
Red Rock: But Hate’s going to beat the crap out of me!
Boolie: Red, Hate isn’t even in the match...
Red Rock: Oh... yeah. But still! Pierce Lavelle, Paddy O’Shea and The Educator! Boolie, I can’t stand up to those guys! I’m only new here!
Boolie: Are you being a pussy?
Red Rock stops struggling and stares up at the insanely tall man.
Red Rock: Course not...
Boolie: Then get on that bus.
Boolie gives Red Rock a shove away from him, and Red Rock starts to approach, but quails as Hate turns to face him.
George Cassidy: Folks, it seems the fourth wrestler competing in this match is too scared to board the bus...
O’Shea sees his friend and hops off the bus, sidling along out of Hate’s reach as The Fifth Horseman watches him coldly. O’Shea bravely ignores this and speaks to Red Rock.
Paddy O’Shea: C’mon, Red! You’ll be fine. It’s gonna be a’right.
Red Rock: Are you sure?
Paddy O’Shea: Positive; I guarantee ‘t, you –
O’Shea is cut off as Hate promptly punches him in the mouth. The Irishman falls to the ground, blood bursting from a freshly split lip, but there is no time to concentrate on that as Red Rock, his cheeks burning with anger, jumps on Hate and batters him to the ground.
Truth Waters: Red Rock jumps to the defence of Paddy O’Shea!
George Cassidy: It seems he’s finally worked up the courage to compete, but he may have bitten off more than he can chew with Hate – who, we remind you, isn’t even going to be in the match.
Lavelle and Educator sprint over, The Educator tearing Red Rock away from Hate and dragging him to the bus and Lavelle helping O’Shea up. The Irish gypsy staggers over to Hate and spits full in his face before jogging over to the bus.
Truth Waters: All four men are now on the bus. We can get started –
George Cassidy: Hate doesn’t look too happy that O’Shea spit in his face!
The roar of the engine starting is heard, and the double-decker bus begins to reverse out to spontaneous cheers from the TV crew.
Truth Waters: LET’S HIT THE STREETS!
Hate gets to his feet and watches as O’Shea slowly raises his middle finger at him from the open back of the bus.
Truth Waters: Haha, O’Shea is making the most of this.
George Cassidy: I wouldn’t say it’s so advisable...
The bus starts to pull away just as Hate makes a decision – and runs full speed towards it! O’Shea’s eyes widen with horror as he stands, glued to the spot, watching The Fifth Horseman advance on the bus.
George Cassidy: Hate is sprinting as fast as he can, trying to get on that bus, which is just leaving the car park!
The open tourists’ bus trundles out of the parking lot and starts to gather speed – but Hate hurls himself the last couple of metres and manages to grab hold of the pole at the back entrance! O’Shea stares down at the powerful hand gripping the pole right next to him at floor-height as the bus reaches 30mph, Hate’s knees bumping hard against the road.
Truth Waters: He’s got there! Can Hate hang on?
O’Shea grins down at the man who has made his recent life a misery and brings up his booted foot. But just as he is about to stamp hard on Hate’s fingers, Hate channels a godly strength to hurl himself forward and aboard!
George Cassidy: My God!
Truth Waters: Hate is on the bus!
George Cassidy: That was unbelievable strength. It was less pulling himself onto the bus... more pulling the bus back to allow him to slump onto that metal flooring at the back entrance.
The bus stops at traffic lights as it looks to turn into the Warwick Road, and O’Shea begins to lay into Hate’s floored body with hard kicks to the back. The Educator makes his way along the aisle and lands a sucker punch across the Irishman’s face, diverting Paddy’s attention, and his stagger is accentuated as the bus begins to move.
George Cassidy: The sudden acceleration nearly caused O’Shea to fall.
Truth Waters: Just like our last pay-per-view main event, the Inferno match, was a test of endurance in extreme conditions as much as a wrestling contest, this will be a test of how to manage fighting aboard a moving vehicle.
Further up the bus, Pierce Lavelle has pinned Red Rock back against the section of wall behind the driver’s seat, and the blows to the abdomen that he delivers are uncontested by the relative newcomer to AWC.
George Cassidy: Red Rock’s already getting his ass handed to him.
O’Shea lowers his head and drives hard at The Educator, surprising Adam Masters and forcing him back against the window with a crunch. O’Shea now plants his feet on the seat and rams forwards repeatedly, knocking the wind out of The Educator with repeated blows.
Truth Waters: And now we wave goodbye to the arena...
The shot switches to the upper deck, where Waters and Cassidy are both looking over their shoulders at the Earl’s Court centre disappearing to their right.
Truth Waters: Cassidy... we’re driving on the wrong side of the road!
George Cassidy: They do that here.
Truth Waters: Wha... don’t they crash?
Hate pulls O’Shea off The Educator; Paddy lands on his feet in the aisle only to receive a crushing knee to the mid-section. Lavelle now spins O’Shea round with his left hand; Red Rock’s head in his right; he brings the two together with an almighty blow.
George Cassidy: Smash of heads. Crude. Typical Lavelle.
Red Rock and O’Shea fall away, dazed, as Hate now moves in on the champion with a powerful punch to the gut. Lavelle absorbs it and claws across Hate’s head with a forearm. Snarling, Hate takes Lavelle’s arm and turns around, wrapping it the other side of a pole and thrusting forward with all his power. Lavelle yells as his shoulder is crushed against the metal.
Truth Waters: Hate uses the surrounding environment to take the fight to Pierce Lavelle.
The bus turns left into Old Brompton Road, the sudden lurch causing Hate to stumble backwards and trip over, landing heavily in a seat.
George Cassidy: This is no time to take a rest!
The Educator, seeing his chance, leaps off the opposite seat and rotates his body backwards, landing with his posterior on Hate’s chest and his legs either side of his head, crushing his torso. Educator rolls backwards, springing off Hate’s knees to land on his feet, and looks to the challenge of Lavelle.
George Cassidy: Brilliant move by The Educator! Didn’t I tell you he can hang with the top guys?!
Lavelle attempts a right hand, but his shoulder, only just hurt at the hands of Hate, doesn’t seem to agree, and Educator can easily knock it away – against the pole – and kick Lavelle in the mid-section. Now, with an opening, Educator quickly locks up and snap suplexes the Transatlantic champion down the aisle.
George Cassidy: Did we just see a wrestling move on the bus? DAMN STRAIGHT! And, what a surprise, it was my man The Educator once more. Just look at what he brings to this main event.
Turning into the small Collingham Road, we see a church to our left.
Truth Waters: George! Look! A real British church.
George Cassidy: Whoa. Look at that architecture. So... European...
With Waters and Cassidy in awe, the action continues down below. Red Rock and Paddy O’Shea, the two friends having seemingly signed a truce, rouse Hate from his slumber and place him standing in the aisle. Each taking an arm of his, they mount the seats either side of him and on the count of three, throw themselves backwards, Hate going to the floor in a sort of double elevated DDT.
Truth Waters: Conception and execution!
George Cassidy: The story of Henry VIII and his six wives isn’t appropriate at this time, Truth.
The Educator drags Lavelle up, looking out in wonder at the road moving past the open back of the bus. With a sudden inspiration, he pulls him over towards the edge and looks for a hiptoss out onto the tarmac, but the heavier Lavelle stays grounded!
Truth Waters: Lavelle knows how important it is to stay on his feet. At the back of the bus, the stakes are high.
The champion now hooks his legs around those of The Educator and twists them forward. The Educator falls, his front now hanging over the edge of the bus!
Truth Waters: We could be looking at our first elimination from the match here!
His eyes wide, Educator stretches out his hands as the bus slows and pushes off the road, trying to propel himself backwards, and manages to shuffle his body back onto the bus but only a little. Lavelle stands over him, his feet either side of Educator’s body at the very edge of the bus, and reaches down. The Educator swings a desperate elbow, but it can only catch Lavelle in the right knee.
George Cassidy: Lavelle doesn’t quite have it in him to finish this!
The bus comes to a halt at the Cromwell Road lights. Lavelle grabs Masters’ head and looks to manoeuvre him gently off the bus, but suddenly Hate comes from behind with a searing kick to the back of Lavelle’s head! Lavelle’s eyes glaze over as he topples forward, tripping over The Educator’s body and falling off the bus!
George Cassidy: LAVELLE IS OUT!
Truth Waters: Not quite, Cassidy; there’s nothing preventing him from getting back on, with the bus at a standstill. The rules state that the last man left on the bus – apart from the AWC representatives, i.e. the commentators and the referee – is the winner. That’s it. There’s nothing in there about eliminations.
George Cassidy: Sure, but with Lavelle out like a light I don’t quite see him reembarking.
Car horns begin to honk as those behind the bus in the queue for the lights notice the obstruction to their future progress. A man runs over from the pavement and raises Lavelle’s head, looking to see if he is OK. The Transatlantic champion has a very distant expression on his face.
Truth Waters: Can we get a mic down there? It looks like he’s speaking to him.
The fighting on board the bus has stopped. Hate stands at its edge, hands on hips as he watches proudly. O’Shea and Red Rock are behind him, craning their necks to see out. The Educator is still lying on the floor, but only because he has not bothered to get up, too preoccupied in seeing how the champion fares – as the lights turn amber.
George Cassidy: GO GO GO! Wait... what does that mean?
Truth Waters: That boy needs therapy.
George Cassidy: Huh?
Hate’s eyes flash as Pierce Lavelle is helped to his feet. Meanwhile, the cars at the front of the queue begin to move off in their respective directions.
Truth Waters: It’s a race against time for Pierce Lavelle. We’re about ten vehicles back here...
Man: Have you got a mobile, mate?
It seems we now have a microphone down at road level, where Lavelle shakes his head.
George Cassidy: He really does look dazed, having taken a couple of almighty blows to the head. First the Detention in the Earl’s Court car park from The Educator, and now that huge kick to the back of the head by Hate that sent him off the bus in the first place.
Pierce Lavelle: I... I’m fine. I just need to get back on...
Lavelle waves a hand at the bus. The fourth car in the queue is now moving, and the bus driver has put the double-decker in gear.
Man: No chance, mate! You must be concussed. Don’t worry, I’ve seen it on telly. Let’s get you the ‘ospital...
Lavelle throws away the man’s concerned arm.
Pierce Lavelle: I’m fine!
Man: Why aren’t you wearing anything on top, mate? It’s not exactly the best weather out here... and it’ll be dark soon. Where you from, anyway? Ameri –
The man’s words die in his throat as Lavelle makes a sudden dash for the bus, which has started to move. Channelling the spirit of the ‘surfer dude’, he leaps sideways onto the open back portion, just in time – or so he would have if Hate hadn’t grabbed him by the throat in mid-air. The bus turns onto Cromwell Road, home of the Natural History Museum, with Pierce Lavelle dangling precariously over the road, Hate holding him around the neck with one hand.
Truth Waters: Oh my God!
George Cassidy: Lavelle got back, or so he thought. Hate is in control!
Truth Waters: This could be life or death for Pierce Lavelle and it’s the Fifth Horseman to decide!
We pick up speed, but Hate’s intentions are thwarted as the other competitors suddenly remember they’re in a match. Educator, from the floor, lifts a foot hard into Hate’s REGIONS~! just as O’Shea and Red Rock advance with forearms across the back. Hate drops Lavelle, who looks to be hitting the road – but grabs the pole at the back. He holds on with all his might as the bus trundles down Cromwell Road, his legs dangling off the bus and trailing against the road, Lavelle wincing in pain.
Truth Waters: We’ve got another DANGLER!
George Cassidy: Why did they attack Hate? I don’t get it. He was just about to eliminate Lavelle.
Truth Waters: I don’t think any of them really registered that. They were all just too shocked at themselves for having stopped fighting to watch the champion’s progress out on the road.
George Cassidy: But Lavelle’s gone, now, surely...
Lavelle, however, is too sensible to just hang on, knowing that a boot across the hand is forthcoming, and quickly. Gritting his teeth, he swings his legs round, closing his eyes as they crash hard against the back of the bus. Tentatively, he takes a hand off the pole and scrabbles for a handhold on the back face. Finding just a thin ledge on which to place his fingers, it takes one huge leap of faith to transfer his weight to his bottom portion, which is laid over only a thin bumper, and then stand on it, flattening himself against the back of the bus.
Truth Waters: The great escape! That was... movieworthy.
George Cassidy: But... where does he go from here?
We have to wait for the answer to that question, as Hate is turned around by Red Rock and O’Shea who dual-whip him into the stairs. Hate goes over with a crash as the two friends and temporary partners now look at The Educator, who has just arisen.
George Cassidy: The Educator versus an Irish gypsy and an English... chav?
Truth Waters: What the hell is a chav?
George Cassidy: No idea, I read it in a magazine.
O’Shea moves forward but as fast as lightning Educator kneels and transfers him across his shoulders in a fireman’s carry. With O’Shea now near the edge, Educator appears triumphant, but O’Shea uses the still-intact handhold with him to drag his own body back into the bus. Red Rock capitalises by launching himself off the stairs and performing a high-impact knee-to-face variation!
Truth Waters: Red Rock just broke Ed’s face! Take that, Cassidy.
George Cassidy: What an amateurish move...
Truth Waters: Whatever. Took Ed out, didn’t it?
George Cassidy: His attention was taken up by Paddy O’Shea... he can’t concentrate on two men at once!
Truth Waters: Hence his not being cut out for this after all, hmm?
Red Rock revels in his glory, much to O’Shea’s dismay; he pays for this as Hate, from behind, shoves him hard in the upper back with both hands, sending Red flying forward into O’Shea and knocking him off the bus! Red Rock looks down in horror at what he’s done, and it’s all too easy for Hate to come up from behind. One snap kick to the back later, Red Rock has joined his friend just a little further on the Cromwell Road.
George Cassidy: Hate has knocked O’Shea and Red Rock off the bus!
The sound of car horns fills the air as Cromwell Road comes to a standstill, in one direction at least. O’Shea gets to his feet, a hand to his aching back, and yells obscenities at Red Rock before dashing over and giving him a hand up. They look up together with joint despair as the bus disappears into the distance.
Truth Waters: It doesn’t look like there’s a way back into this for Paddy O’Shea and Red Rock!
A hundred yards away, the bus prepares to turn left as it passes the three crown jewels of this sector of London: the Natural History Museum, the Science Museum and the Geological Museum. When the turn into the small road is completed, the Victoria and Albert Museum will also be visible, opposite these to the bus’s right.
Truth Waters: Wow! Look at the... museums.
Truth yawns.
George Cassidy: Don’t be flippant about these museums, Truth. The Science Museum! The Natural History Museum! Two of the most important buildings in the world. This match is at least providing some education for the rest of the world...
Truth Waters: I thought that was your buddy Ed’s job?
For now, though, the bus has stopped at yet another set of traffic lights – prime opportunity for us to check on Lavelle at the back of the bus.
He isn’t there.
That’s because he’s just hopped off and boarded again, of course.
The Educator and Hate, locked in a brawl which Hate is clearly winning, both stop and look to the side with horror as Pierce Lavelle’s battered frame comes back onto the platform. Their shellshock lasts too long for their well-being, as Lavelle is able to throw a punch into Hate’s stomach and lock him up. As they are near the stairs to the upper deck, there is no constraint of a low ceiling here, and Lavelle lifts The Fifth Horseman high overhead before dropping him down dangerously in a brainbuster!
Truth Waters: Pierce Lavelle brainbuster! Back on board and already making an impact!
George Cassidy: He’s lucky to be alive. The fool. Why not just give up instead of risking life and limb to cling to the back of a bus?
Truth Waters: Because it worked, Cassidy. It worked, and now he can defend that title belt instead of surrendering it to either Hate of The Educator – neither scenario being particularly desirable to our fans, who seemed to favour Paddy O’Shea to win.
George Cassidy: He’s well out of this, though...
On cue, the camera returns to O’Shea and Red Rock, still standing and watching as the bus turns the corner. Dispirited, they simultaneously turn and look behind them –
Cab Driver: Will you two get the fuck out of the way?
What was that, Paddy? A cabbie? Their eyes gleam as Red Rock comes over to the window.
Red Rock: You free, mate?
Cab Driver: Well, yeah...
Red Rock: Up for a chase?
Without waiting for an answer, Red Rock hops in the back, O’Shea following him.
Red Rock: Follow that bus!
Cab Driver: WHICH bus?
Red Rock: Just turned left up there, mate. Quick!
Cab Driver: What number?
Red Rock turns to O’Shea, unsure. But Paddy knows...
Paddy O’Shea: AWC.
The driver turns around with a sneer.
Cab Driver: Is this your idea of a joke? Stopping all the traffic, then pretending to want a ride... AWC is not a number. Now get the fuck out –
Paddy O’Shea: JUS’ DRIVE!
Cab Driver: What am I getting out of this?
Paddy O’Shea: Wha’ever t’hell y’ want. Jus’ ge’ us to tha’ bus!
The driver smiles and guns the engines.
Truth Waters: YEAH! O’Shea and Red Rock are coming back!
George Cassidy: As if they can catch us through all this traffic.
Truth Waters: We’ll see, Cassidy. Now, what’s going on here?
Pierce Lavelle becomes visible on the top deck for the first time, dragging The Educator with him. He slams his head against the railing that runs around the entire deck of the tourists’ travel bus and scoops The Educator up, slamming him across the front row of seats.
Truth Waters: Lavelle is on the upper deck! That’s the first action we’ve seen up here.
Lavelle looks to the back of the bus, catching Waters’ eyes and nodding. He now turns his attention back to The Educator, pulling him up and delivering some slow punches to the head.
George Cassidy: Lavelle sticking to his borderline-illegal basics.
Truth Waters: It’s smart. He’s keeping in control and not exerting much energy, just delivering occasional blows.
George Cassidy: Er, Truth? Where’s the referee?
Michael Ryan: I’m right here.
Both commentators jump out of their skin at suddenly realising Senior Referee Michael Ryan is sitting alongside them.
George Cassidy: Right you are...
Truth Waters: Uh... why aren’t you refereeing?
Michael Ryan: Well, I am, but it got far too busy downstairs. It’s easier to make sense of it from these monitors.
Hate suddenly appears in the stairwell.
George Cassidy: There’s Hate!
Truth Waters: Lavelle’s gonna be caught unawares...
Hate grabs Lavelle by the shoulders and slams him back, flat to the floor. He then places his foot over Lavelle’s face and shifts his weight onto that leg, twisting the boot to apply maximum damage.
Truth Waters: So what are you doing about that, Ryan?
Michael Ryan: I can’t disqualify in this match.
George Cassidy: ...No pins, no submissions and no DQs? Then why the hell are you even here?
Michael Ryan: I...
Hate now moves off Lavelle and onto the top deck proper, grabbing the woozy Educator and lifting him overhead.
Truth Waters: Whoa!
George Cassidy: Hate’s strength is... unprecedented. There is something dodgy about those muscles!
We pass the famous Imperial College, part of the University of London, on our left as Hate simply holds Educator overhead, breathing harshly in and out as he exhibits his fearsome ability.
Truth Waters: How can he... do that?
The bus moves on, the Royal Albert Hall on our left and the Royal Geographical Society on our right.
George Cassidy: We’re passing some decent sights but I can’t tear my eyes away from what is going on here... Hate’s just been holding Educator above his head, with that snarl on his face, for a good thirty seconds now.
Truth Waters: He needs to do something. This achieves nothing and saps the strength of The Fifth Horseman.
George Cassidy: I don’t think anything can sap Hate’s strength, Truth.
Lavelle struggles to his feet, glaring at Hate. Hate sneers and suddenly moves towards the railing, letting out a yell as he tosses The Educator up and off the top deck of the fast-moving bus. Educator’s body slams onto the pavement and rolls with the impact, coming to rest right alongside a gigantic pile of canine excrement.
Truth Waters: Oh my God!
George Cassidy: No! The Educator just got LAUNCHED off the top of the bus and – do you think he’s OK? He could be seriously injured!
Truth Waters: The Educator is surely out of this match.
The commentators have turned and are staring over the back of the bus as it stops for the Kensington Gore traffic lights.
George Cassidy: He’s not moving... the double champion is not moving! This could be curtains for AWC.
Truth Waters: Oh get over it Cassidy.
The bus moves on, and it’s Pierce Lavelle and Hate exchanging punches on the top deck. Both weary now, there is a good three second gap between each right hand strike as they slug it out – Lavelle, Hate, Lavelle, Hate. Neither will give an inch. That is, until the driver takes the bus left into Kensington Gore. Hate loses his footing and Lavelle’s eyes light up. He runs at The Fifth Horseman and clotheslines him down.
Truth Waters: Neither man would let those punches hurt – that is, until the bus wrong-footed Hate and Lavelle took advantage to score the clothesline.
George Cassidy: (still looking behind) I’ve lost sight of The Educator!
Truth Waters: Oh, darn it.
George Cassidy: But that taxi is catching up. Red Rock and Paddy O’Shea are – unfortunately – not out of this one yet.
Lavelle considers his next move but before he can make one, Hate lifts a leg and slams his boot into Lavelle’s breastbone. Lavelle is thrown back against the railing and for one horrible moment looks about to topple over it, but manages to right himself just in time. Shooting a meaningful glance at the Transatlantic champion, Hate descends the stairs.
Truth Waters: Hate’s going downstairs... for no apparent reason.
George Cassidy: Perhaps he prefers the more claustrophobic environment.
With a shrug, Lavelle follows him – not carefully enough. An uppercut knocks Lavelle back, stunned on the stairs.
Truth Waters: Now that gives a whole new meaning to the phrase “Death on the stairs”.
George Cassidy: Is that even a phrase?
Truth Waters: Oh, haven’t you been doing your research? I’ve updated myself with the London music scene, of course. “Death On The Stairs”; it’s a song by The Libertines, one of the most popular bands in the city.
George Cassidy: Truth, The Libertines split up a couple of years ago after one band member stole from another’s house to finance his drug addiction.
Truth Waters: ...Oh.
George Cassidy: (smarmily) Research.
Hate grabs Lavelle by the throat and pulls him up, only to headbutt him back down.
George Cassidy: Ooh...
Truth Waters: Headbutt across Lavelle’s nose. He’s bleeding now.
Hate now drags Lavelle to the bottom deck with him. We switch camera views to see Lavelle slammed up against the window and held there, Hate’s hands pressed against his throat, choking him out.
Truth Waters: Hate is eliminating any energy reserves Lavelle might have... and turning his face purple in the process.
Suddenly, with an almighty smash, Hate shifts his weight and throws Lavelle with the hold around the throat through the opposite window! Pierce Lavelle’s body spins as shards of broken glass fly everywhere, and the bus swerves as the driver’s shock is registered. Lavelle falls to the road and, fortunately, rolls onto the pavement, motionless and streaked with fresh lacerations right around his body.
George Cassidy: ...That’s it! It’s all over!
Truth Waters: Hate is the last man on the bus! He’s our new champion!
George Cassidy: No way!
Referee Michael Ryan rises from his seat and jogs over to the stairs before descending.
Truth Waters: What an amazing victory for The Fifth Horseman! And Pierce Lavelle – well – he took a bump.
George Cassidy: Come on, that pales in comparison to The Educator being THROWN from the top deck! Don’t fret, your buddy Lavelle will be just fine...
Cassidy looks positively distraught at this.
Michael Ryan comes up to Hate, who has a wide and scary smile on his face. However...
The referee is shaking his head.
Michael Ryan: Match is still going, Hate. You haven’t won yet.
Hate’s eyes start to blaze, but his voice is calm.
Hate: What?
Michael Ryan: Let me read you the rules –
Hate: I don’t have time for the rules, just tell me what the hell is going on!
The bus jerks to a halt as a murderous Hate glares at Ryan, who backs up the bus.
Michael Ryan: The match isn’t over, Hate, I –
A figure has appeared behind Hate. It’s the bus driver. And he’s holding a wrench.
Driver: The last man on the bus, aside from the commentators and referee, will be crowned Transatlantic champion. You aren’t the last man on the bus, Hate.
The Fifth Horseman spins to face his new enemy.
Driver: I am.
He clobbers Hate with the wrench. Hate falls to the floor as Michael Ryan moves away. The driver now rips off his hat and we can finally clearly see his face.
Anti-climax... it’s Hugo Silveira.
Silveira drops the wrench and starts to drag Hate by his shoulders towards the door. Hate appears to be stunned from the wrench shot. There is a horrible welt on his forehead where it hit.
George Cassidy: What does this mean?
Truth Waters: Hugo Silveira is the bus driver – and he’s right, the bus driver isn’t included in the list of those exempted from the definition of ‘men on the bus’! The match goes on, and it looks like Amy Silveira’s father is hell-bent on winning the Transatlantic title!
Hugo Silveira continues his slow pursuit. Hate’s body isn’t the easiest to drag. But he’ll get there. He’s just seconds from capturing glory for himself, after his daughter’s failure on Fresh! two weeks ago.
At last, the deed is done. Hate’s body adorns the road – on which a long line of cars has formed behind the stationary bus. But Hugo Silveira doesn’t care, as he steps back onto the vehicle he’s been anonymously driving for twenty minutes. He’s won the Transatlantic title.
George Cassidy: Truth, dare I say it... we have a new champion.
Truth Waters: Hugo Silveira isn’t even a wrestler! Surely this can’t be right!
George Cassidy: Oh. It isn’t.
Silveira’s eyes grow wide. A small pan out later, we see why.
Paddy O’Shea/Red Rock: SURPRISE!
Fists fly, and within seconds, Hugo Silveira’s body lands next to Hate’s on the road. But Hate’s getting up.
Red Rock: He’s getting up, Paddy! What do we do?
Paddy O'Shea: DRIVE!
O’Shea and Red Rock dive for the steering wheel, and both end up jammed onto the driving seat as the bus suddenly accelerates with huge power.
Truth Waters: It’s O’Shea and Red Rock... so... the match continues?
George Cassidy: Guess so, and – WHOA – we’re moving fast.
Truth Waters: The traffic’s still stationary behind us...
George Cassidy: Yeah, well look at where those two parked the taxi. I guess they got sick of waiting for the driver to get here himself.
The camera shows a taxi parked sideways, blocking the entire road. There’s no time to dwell on that, as the new driving duo of Paddy O’Shea and Red Rock takes us left. We zoom along the next street and turn right into Cromwell Road.
George Cassidy: We’ve been here before. They’re taking us back where we came from.
Truth Waters: I don’t think they’re all that certain of where they’re going, Cassidy!
Paddy O'Shea: Arr! We’ve shaken ‘em off. Right. What d’ we do now, Red?
Red Rock: We’re the only two left.
Red Rock stands up and moves into the aisle, while O’Shea continues to negotiate London’s streets.
Red Rock: It’s between us now, Paddy! We’ve done it!
Paddy O'Shea: Haha, so we have.
Red Rock: So now, just one of us needs to step out of the bus.
The bus comes to a screeching halt.
Truth Waters: FUCK! You can’t “fecking” drive.
Paddy O'Shea: Uh-huh.
Red Rock waits, looking pointedly at O’Shea.
Red Rock: (patiently) One of us needs to get off, mate...
O’Shea stands up and glares at Red Rock, his chin covered in dry blood after his lip was cut open earlier by Hate.
Paddy O'Shea: Well ye’d better hurry the feckin’ hell up and git off then!
Red Rock frowns.
Red Rock: Uh, don’t be gay. You’ll get another chance, Paddy. I need this. If I don’t win tonight, I’ll be going back to the bottom of the card, and don’t pretend you don’t know that, ya rasclart.
Paddy O'Shea: Excuse me! A’ least I’ve earned the belt! Ye’re new, ye’ve got time! Ye know it makes sense fer me to win this belt!
Red looks unhappily at O’Shea.
Red Rock: Then it makes sense for me to do this...
Red Rock throws a punch at his friend. His eyes flashing, O’Shea returns it, and an all-out brawl breaks out.
Truth Waters: They couldn’t decide which of them should win the damn title, and now they’re fighting over it!
George Cassidy: Good! At least they’re competing for the title. Imagine the prestige drop if some friendly “arrangement” decided the next AWC Transatlantic champion.
Truth Waters: Cassidy... if people work together, they can achieve great things. The problem is when greed comes into play; when individuals regard their goals as more important than those of the group. If the group works together, everybody gets something good. Problem is when one person wants something MORE than good... then they fail. And no one gets anything. Game theory. Now O’Shea and Red Rock are going to throw it away...
George Cassidy: (scornfully) Oh, right, I really see Lavelle and Hate getting back into this.
Lavelle steps into shot, cracks the two friends’ heads together, and knocks them to the floor.
Truth Waters: Yes, yes you do.
Lavelle is covered in blood having gone through a window at the hands of Hate. Licking his lips, he wastes no time in pulling O’Shea up and dragging him to the door. Only problem is, there’s someone at the door.
Hate.
He wraps his arms around O’Shea and throws him overhead in an enormous belly-to-belly suplex. The two fall in a heap but Hate gets up instantly and charges his way onto the bus, picking up Lavelle and smashing him against the window. Fearing a repeat of what happened just minutes ago, Lavelle tries to keep his weight down.
George Cassidy: He’s bloodied and battered, but the champion is hanging in there.
Truth Waters: Hate’s covered in blood; it’s Lavelle’s.
Hate drops Lavelle on the floor and suddenly Red Rock comes into view. He places a hand either side of his head, slams them together and raises the 197-pounder off the floor. Ignoring Red Rock’s flailing limbs, he carries him solemnly to the door and dumps him outside on top of O’Shea. Then Hate closes the door and gets in the driver’s seat.
George Cassidy: Once more it’s just Hate and Pierce Lavelle in the race to become Transatlantic champion.
Hate slams his foot down and the bus screeches into life, accelerating further down Cromwell Road. Satisfied at having left the other competitors behind, Hate leaps out of the driver’s seat, allowing the bus to gradually come to its own halt, and heads over to the rising Lavelle.
Truth Waters: We’re on the end of heaps of abuse up here. CAN’T YOU SEE THIS IS FOR TELEVISION?
George Cassidy: Oh, the English. They’ll never understand.
Truth Waters: I’m slightly worried we’re going to crash and die, Cassidy. If Hate gets in the driver’s seat one more time –
George Cassidy: Then you drive the fucking bus.
Truth Waters: Alright, I will!
Truth throws down his headset and runs to the stairwell. Checking it for Hate and Lavelle, and not seeing them, he bounds over to the steering wheel and begins to take the bus along Cromwell Road at a sedate pace.
George Cassidy: Ah that’s better...
Hate slams a fist into Lavelle’s face and carries him to the stairwell. He places him in a fireman’s carry across his shoulders and carries him up the stairs before dropping him across his knee in an inverted backbreaker.
George Cassidy: Hate is dominant now. He can end this at any time.
But Hate has other ideas. Storming down the aisle –
George Cassidy: What the – no!
– he reaches the end, where Cassidy is situated behind the commentators’ apparatus.
Hate: Watch out.
George Cassidy: Er... aaarghh!
Cassidy dives for cover, anticipating something explosive, but Hate just brings Lavelle along the aisle. He lifts him once more in that fireman’s carry and now steps up onto the back seat, right next to the cowering George Cassidy.
Lavelle croaks something to Hate.
Pierce Lavelle: No... please...
Hate laughs.
Hate: Ah, you don’t even know what I’m planning...
But it’s obvious what Hate wants to do. Having attained the maximum possible height, he’s now going to do his best to break every bone in Lavelle’s body – and ensuring that the current champion is then run over by a car behind the bus must also be high on his list of aims. Right?
Wrong.
Hate: Enjoy yourself, Pierce. Your fate is in your hands.
Hate lowers Lavelle over the back end of the bus, and then places Lavelle’s bleeding hands on the rail that hangs over the back. With Lavelle dangling in this position, breathing heavily and looking totally shot, Hate surveys the situation. He still isn’t happy.
Moving along the backseat to that in the very corner, he stamps hard on the edge of that railing. Once, twice, three times – and now it breaks off.
One side, that is.
The railing swings sharply to the right, finishing in a vertical position, with Lavelle hanging from its middle and desperately clinging to the hollow piece of metal that he is relying on. It’s the only thing stopping him from falling to the road below and potentially being run over by a passing car. Lavelle’s life or death might rely on this railing holding.
Hate likes that.
He turns around and walks off.
Downstairs, Truth looks in his rear-view mirror and jumps.
Truth Waters: Aaarghh! What the hell?
Your reaction might be the same if you saw Pierce Lavelle hanging on for dear life in your wing mirror.
But pretty much everyone in the world would choose that scenario as more desirable than the next for poor Truth Waters, as he is wrenched out of his seat by an angry Hate.
Truth Waters: Hey! Get your hands off of me!
Waters valiantly claws at Hate’s painted face, but it’s probably a bad decision as Hate shuts him up with an elbow to the temple and kicks his body down the aisle.
George Cassidy: What – TRUTH!
Compassion, Cassidy? How... cute.
Hate revs the engine. Lots.
Hate: Enjoy the ride, Pierce!
Lavelle’s eyes widen. Hanging behind the back window, he has a perfect view of Hate at the window, but can do nothing except hold on tight.
George Cassidy: This is a nightmare! Hate’s holding the cards! He decides whether Lavelle dies – and possibly indeed whether everyone else on this bus dies – Truth, Michael Ryan, me!
Speaking of the Senior Referee, he’s currently on the bottom deck, staring in horror at the pleading face of Pierce Lavelle.
Hate: Ready?
A sharp left turn, and Lavelle and his pole swing right out to the side, prompting “ooh!”s from passers-by. One wonders if the police have even been called yet.
George Cassidy: We’re in Earl’s Court Road... this is where it all began...
Michael Ryan has begun signing urgent instructions to Lavelle. Finally the message gets through. With much difficulty, Lavelle lodges his two feet against the back window, looking like an abseiler with his pole rather than a rope. He begins to stamp away at the window. Hate looks round.
Hate: No!
George Cassidy: The bus is – I can’t take this anymore! HATE, HAVE YOU GOT A DRIVER LICENSE?
Truth Waters gets to his feet. Shooting a glare at Hate, he sees the situation unfolding at the back of the bus and goes over to assist in trying to break the window.
Hate: Come back here!
We skid into the arena car park. Now or never. Hate applies the brakes, before suddenly accelerating violently, and Lavelle smashes through the window. Unfortunately, the pole breaks off too, and at the wrong end of the swing for Lavelle, who is pitched out of the bus, landing hard in the car park. He has no more to give.
But Hate hasn’t quite got this right, because the bus is still accelerating, as Hate, with his head turned round, shouts abuse at Lavelle.
Hate: Scum! Now I take what is rightfully mi –
Hate looks back at the windscreen, and screams.
Hate: AAAARGHHH!
The bus crashes into the side of Earl’s Court.
Hard.
Hans Heinemann: Hello? Hello? Is this – yes – OK, we’re on the air... well... I don’t know what to say. The events of the past minute or so – the bus just crashed – we have no idea what’s going on –
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: The arena wall is still intact. We know that much.
Miguel Rodriguez: But the bus! OOH, it was magnificent!
Hans Heinemann: It crumpled on impact, and I fear for the safety of those inside, I really do. Especially the driver, Hate...
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: He was right at the front... there’s surely no chance...
Hans Heinemann: Get some paramedics out there!
Medics of the ambulance crew that was already on hand for the event sprint over to the scene, and within minutes, Michael Ryan and Truth Waters are dragged from the back of the bus, each sporting some cuts but seemingly nothing too serious.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: That’s Mike Ryan and Truth Waters. They’ve both escaped without serious harm.
George Cassidy: Hey! Can I get some help up here? The steps – er – aren’t there!
The crew scrambles to find a ladder to fetch the unhurt George Cassidy from the top deck. Pierce Lavelle, meanwhile, has sat up on the other side of the car park, and is watching the proceedings with interest.
Hans Heinemann: Well, it seems inappropriate to state this at this point, but we do have a new champion. Hate’s won the match.
Miguel Rodriguez: But is he even ALIVE?
Nobody answers.
Hans Heinemann: Well, folks, I’m not quite sure how long this is going to take, but it’s right about time for the show to go off the air anyway. I don’t know when this will be resolved but keep checking the internet for updates and we’ll bring them to you when we –
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: HOLD UP! I’m getting something in from the ambulance crew...
A couple of medics are having an animated conversation at the back of the bus, looking very puzzled.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: They’re saying – no, that can’t be right!
Miguel Rodriguez: WHAT? My beeg boy is about to explode!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: They’re saying there’s another person there, at the back of the bus! It’s not Hate, we know that – he’s at the front – and can be identified easily, of course – ladies and gentlemen, another person is on board.
Hans Heinemann: That cannot be correct!
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: They insist on it! And he’s refusing to come out. This person is refusing to let paramedics help him. He’s insisting – he’s insisting that they see to the driver first –
Miguel Rodriguez: But Hate’s DEAD!
Hans Heinemann: Shush. We don’t know that.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Certainly not, because... well, look.
The medics turn as someone joins them from round the side of the bus. Only, this isn’t a medic. He’s topless and wearing dirty jeans. His torso is covered in blood, blood which is not his. It’s Hate.
And he’s unhurt.
Hans Heinemann: Hate!
Miguel Rodriguez: How the HELL did he do that?
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: I have no idea...
Hans Heinemann: So he’s unharmed! We have a new champion!
David “Pearl” Harber emerges from the arena and hurries over, after checking quickly on Lavelle. He’s carrying the Transatlantic title, which he now hands to Hate, and Hate raises it above his head, walking away into the car park. The copyright notice flashes across the screen.
DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~!: Now the medics are going in for the other man...
Miguel Rodriguez: Who cares? WE GOT A NEW CHAMP! Thank you and goodnight! Off the air in ten seconds...
Hans Heinemann: Hate has come through. Probably the favourite, he dominated the match, wreaking havoc and causing no end of injuries –
The medics help the other man out of the bus.
Voice: That’s very kind of you, Hate. You can hand that over to its rightful owner now. Thanks a lot!
Hate stares.
Pearl stares.
We all stare.
It’s The Educator.
Pearl: We – er – Hate, if you don’t mind?
Hate stares.
Pearl stares.
We all stare.
We’re off the air.