FEATURING: TRUTH WATERS, GEORGE CASSIDY
AUTHOR: PIERRE HYDE
We begin zoomed in on a computer-generated metal plaque, reading “DIVIDE AND CONQUER” in the same stylings as on all the official paraphernalia. Then the guitars of AFI’s “Miss Murder” kick in, and the plaque swings away like a door to reveal video portions of AWC in action. Short pockets of fighting are punctuated by one-second stills of either David Harber or Sasha Volkyeva bursting alternately onto the screen; rips of fire shoot across our vision with each ”Hey!” of the chorus. Then things quieten down both aurally and visually; we follow Pearl in candid-type footage; at the airport, in his car, in his apartment. Switch to Sasha at the theatre, walking the streets with a bodyguard, arriving at the arena. The implications are obvious: for all the highlights of tonight’s card, the undercurrent is about two people. These two.
A wrestling ring appears on the screen; Pearl walks into the shot from left, Sasha from right. Then just as they about to meet, a whoosh of fire separates them, the picture freezing and fragmenting, dropping away like broken glass to expose again the metal “DIVIDE AND CONQUER” plaque.
To the MTS Centre, with music and fireworks and fans.
Truth Waters: THINGS ARE HEATING UP IN THE MTS CENTRE! WE’RE HERE LIVE FOR DIVIDE AND CONQUER!
George Cassidy: ELLIS NASH VERSUS ANTON ASSAULT! DARCY CRISIS VERSUS GARBAGE BAG JOHNNY! You’re seeing everything tonight!
Truth Waters: Everything but the Transatlantic title! Adam Dick still doesn’t have a challenger and we’re looking at going through our first pay-per-view without the top belt on the line! But never mind, because we have an epic schedule lined up for you!
George Cassidy: And even better, you’ve got George Cassidy to take you through it all!
Truth Waters: George Cassidy and Truth Waters on the air!
George Cassidy: Oh, yeah, Truth too.
Truth Waters: Let’s kick off by seeing a meeting between the injured Shawn Harris and Harber earlier today!
FEATURING: SHAWN HARRIS, DAVID "PEARL" HARBER
AUTHOR: JEFFY
We cut to backstage earlier today at the MTS Centre in Canada. Shawn Harris is seen limping through the main doors, his kit bag strapped to his back and using crutches to walk. On his left knee is a knee brace, with tape under it. Every step Shawn takes, he cringes in pain, he heads to the locker-room area, David Harber is waiting outside of the community locker-room, and he opens the door for Shawn, Shawn looks up at Pearl and nods in appreciation. Shawn walks into the locker-room and slowly sits down. Harber walks over to him with a concerned look on his face.
Pearl: So much for walking it off Shawn. There’s no way I can let you go out there tonight, not like this.
Shawn Harris: What are you talking about Dave, I’m feeling great, did you not see me run into the locker-room?
Pearl rolls his eyes.
Pearl: Sure, never seen anyone do slow motion in real life before. Listen, just give it a few weeks until you feel better than I’ll put you in a match with Vince; we can find a replacement for you tonight.
Shawn Harris: No way Dave! Have you seen Vince recently, he cries like a little girl when something doesn’t go his way, he wants the sympathy vote before this match so people will actually root for him, but you see Dave, that’s not happening, it must be pretty hard for him when the only person that likes him is that crack whore Jasmine. The time to take down Vince is now damn it! He claims to be from the streets, I was on the streets for half of my life, he thinks I’ve had an easy life Dave and for four months now, I’ve strained myself, pushed myself and forced myself to get myself ready… for the AWC. I’ve waited for this day since February and I’ll be damned if you’re going to pulled me from the card just because I have a little sprained knee.
Pearl: It’s me that’s going to be liable if something happens to you tonight, one bad move and you could blow out your entire leg. You pull out tonight, you’ll be ready for ring action in about three weeks; you wrestle tonight and you could be out for months: everyone will forget about the name Shawn Harris.
Shawn Harris: If it’s liability you’re worried about, I’ll sign a waiver, I’m not bothered, I have faith that I’m going to pull through this match, my father wrestled with a cracked skull, broken ribs, injured shoulders and he still won. I don’t plan on just going through with this match tonight Dave, I plan on kicking his ass, he walks around holding a baseball bat, the only way he can win matches is using weapons, it shows you how much of a lemon you hired with that guy, hell I’m more gangster than he is. Tonight I’ll be winning the match, cementing myself as one of AWC’s best.
Pearl looks reluctant but can see the determination in Shawn’s eyes, after a few moments of silence; he nods his head in agreement.
Pearl: Alright fine. Go through with the match, but if you get injured don’t come running to me.
Shawn Harris: If I get injured, I won’t be able to run anywhere will I? Thanks Dave, I appreciate it.
The two men nod at each other, Pearl then turns around and walks out of the locker-room, Shawn then takes off the knee brace and begins rubbing his knee with a semi worried look upon his face.
Truth Waters: That was earlier on! Now take a look at what Harber’s up to!
FEATURING: DAVID "PEARL" HARBER
AUTHOR: PIERRE HYDE
Silent movies were great, for what they were. Silent segments have their purpose, too.
David “Pearl” Harber walks along the corridor, expressionless, and pins an A3 sheet of paper, landscape, up on the main noticeboard backstage. With it securely in place, he departs, affording the camera a good view of the typed sheet. It is split down the middle – the left side reads “WEST ATLANTIC” and the right “EAST ATLANTIC”, up at the top. Each side has a list of “Confirmed” names – then in larger font is a message: “Those unconfirmed as yet need to sign up to one of the tours by the end of the night!”
A permanent marker dangles from on high.
We wait.
STIPULATION: SINGLES
REFEREE: AARON DAVIES
AUTHOR: JEFF
The lights in the arena dim and a small fog begins to rise lining the ramp way leading down to the ring. All of a sudden a loud, booming, demon- like voice bellows out the message...
"PREPARE TO ENTER MY HELL, MY REALM, AND MY GAME..."
as the words flash up on the screen in pulsing red letters. The message quickly fades away and the voice bellows out the message...
"...ENTER THE VIOLENCE"
...as the words appear on the video screen embossed by flames. All of a sudden a loud gunshot rings out through the arena. The opening chords of 'Thug Luv' begin to play as the oh so familiar voice of 2Pac is heard throughout the arena…
Fool, we doin' this shit from Cleveland to L.A.
Whatever you bitches want. We bringin' it!
Thug luv, bitch! What time is it?
Yo, I don't give a fuck where you lay at, fool!
It's time to slay these Bitch-ass killas
They ain't even knowin' what type of thugs we is. Where my thugs at?
The sound of a cocking of a gun, followed by gunshot repeated throughout is heard ringing out in the arena.
Bone thugs-n-harmony
I know you fools been waitin' for this shit for a long time
Well, here it is! Here it is!
What you gonna do with it?
James Brunt: Making his way to the ring, from New York City, New York... weighing in at 269 pounds, "THE VIOLENCE” VINCE JONES!
"The Violence" Vince Jones emerges from the entrance and makes his way to the edge of the rampway with a black baseball bat in hand followed by the lovely Jasmine. He stops and raises the baseball bat in the air and flashes the hand sign of his old gang from New York as red pyro explodes behind him. He slowly makes his way down ringside totally oblivious to the flickering camera flashes and the hatred of the crowd. He slides into the ring, climbs the nearest turnbuckle and looks out at the crowd as if he's in a trance, drawing in energy from the hatred the crowd has for him. He finally awakens and points the baseball bat out at the members of the crowd and once again raises the baseball bat above his head and flashes the hand sign of his gang. He then climbs back down to the mat and awaits his opponent.
Truth Waters: This match should be intense tonight Cassidy.
George Cassidy: There is a lot of hatred between the two men, there is no doubt about that Truth, but with the injury to Shawn’s knee, Vince will have the upper hand tonight. There is no telling how much pain Shawn is in.
Truth Waters: Unless he is juiced up on painkillers, he won’t have much of a chance, the hamstring is a muscle you don’t want to injure, and it’ll stop you walking that is for sure.
“Trip With Jesus” by The Union Underground starts up as the crowds boos turn to cheers, the lights begin flashing throughout the arena and pyro goes off around the stage area, an Evolution chant starts up from the crowd.
James Brunt: And his opponent, from Las Vegas, Nevada, he weighs in at 220 pounds, “THE NEW F’N EVOLUTION” SHAWN HARRIS!
Shawn Harris limps out from the back, wearing his usual ring attire; his knee is obviously heavily bandaged, under and over the tights, complete with knee brace. Shawn winces in pain as he limps down the ramp, Vince stands there looking at him with a huge grin on his face.
Truth Waters: Look at him Cass, he can barely stand!
George Cassidy: I think he made a mistake going ahead for this match, David Harber didn’t want it to happen, but with Shawn only just coming back from injury, and he couldn’t look weak in front of everyone else...
Truth Waters: True, but he’s going to get his knee in a lot worse condition before tonight is over with.
Shawn gets to the bottom of the ramp and hops up the ring steps, he then enters the ring and looks Vince right in the eye, Vince begins pointing and laughing at the crippled Shawn, Shawn retaliates with a middle finger salute. The bell rings and the crowd starts up another “Evolution” chant, as soon as the bell rings Vince charges towards Shawn, Shawn ducks a clothesline and cracks Vince hard in the jaw, Vince comes back with an elbow to the face then kicks Shawn right in the knee, knocking him down. Shawn begins holding his knee in severe pain as the crowd boos.
Truth Waters: And there you go right there, one kick to the knee and it’s over with.
Vince picks Shawn up and hits him with a vicious shin breaker, he then begins laying in the boots, Shawn uses the ropes to pull himself outside the ring. Vince follows him but Shawn propels himself and hits Vince with a dropkick. Shawn hops up to his one good leg and gets back inside the ring, Vince gets up and gets back into the ring also, as Vince slides under the bottom rope Shawn holds onto the top turnbuckle and begins kicking Vince in the back of the head, the referee warns him to stop, Shawn tells him to piss off however, the distraction is enough for Vince to get back to his feet, he runs at Shawn but Shawn dodges him, Vince changes direction and gets Shawn with a chop block to the back of the left knee, Shawn goes down yet again, Vince then locks on a single leg Boston crab, Shawn screams out in pain but quickly makes it to the ropes, he clutches on for dear life as the referee breaks the hold.
Truth Waters: Harris hasn’t got a chance here, all that high risk he’s used to is out the window here, the referee needs to stop this.
George Cassidy: Don’t count Shawn out yet, he’s a Harris.
Truth Waters: Exactly.
Vince turns his back to Shawn and begins taunting the crowd, receiving quite a few boos, Shawn uses the rope to pull himself up, he then jumps at Vince and takes him down with a bulldog, and Shawn spins himself around then locks on an ankle lock, Vince is quick to power out of it, Vince gets to his hands and knees, Shawn is quick though to lock on the Chain Reaction (crippler crossface), Vince cries out in pain and gets to the ropes, Shawn refuses to release the hold until the referee gets to the count of four, Shawn then lets go and gets to his feet, he rubs his knee, Vince quickly gets to his feet as well and runs at Shawn, Shawn dives out of the way and Vince goes crashing into the referee, the ref’s head bounces off the turnbuckle, Vince turns around and is met with an Evolutionized Dropkick, as Shawn lands his left knee gives out again and Shawn goes down also in pain.
George Cassidy: Shawn Harris is putting up a valiant effort here, that left knee isn’t doing him any favours in terms of momentum.
Truth Waters: Nice use of submission moves though. Mat work is how Harris is going to pull through this alive.
Vince rolls out of the ring and is handed his baseball bat from Jasmine, he gets back in and waits for Shawn to get to his feet, as he does Vince swings for his knee but Shawn jumps over the swing and connects with a jumping roundhouse kick, Vince drops the bat, Shawn then picks it up and goes to crack Vince over the head with it, Vince blocks the shot and snatches it off of him, Shawn rests against the ropes, Vince runs at Shawn waving the bat about but Shawn pulls the top rope down, Vince then falls over the top and goes crashing to the outside.
Truth Waters: Low Bridge! That was a cheap tactic.
George Cassidy: So is bringing the bat into play!
Shawn gets up and uses the ropes to vault himself to the outside and crash into Vince, Vince and Shawn both get to their feet and begin slugging it out, Vince then boots Shawn in the knee once again but instead of going down, an enraged Shawn dives a Vince with a spear and takes him over the security barrier and into the crowd, Shawn then begins hitting lefts and rights, Jasmine hops the fence with the bat but Shawn gets to his feet and turns around, he grabs the bat off of Jasmine and threatens the hit her with it, causing her to go back over the barricade, Shawn follows up and then gets into the ring, he goes to the top rope and balances himself with one leg, he then leaps into the crowd with a shooting star press, the crowd cheer in delight while moving out of the way, Vince then does the same causing Shawn to land hard on several steel chairs, he left leg wrapped in one of them. The crowd begin a “Holy Shit” chant.
Truth Waters: My sentiments exactly! That was brutal, it’s a shame that he missed.
George Cassidy: It is a shame; his leg is caught in one of those chairs, look at him writhing in pain though Truth, we need to get someone down here.
Vince turns around and looks at the fallen Evolution, he then stamps on the chair, Shawn yelps out, tears begin forming at the eyes of Shawn as he grabs a hold of his knee. Vince picks him up and slams him over the crowd barrier, Vince climbs back over to ring side, he then throws Shawn into the steel steps, Vince sees the referee beginning to get back to his feet, and Vince picks Shawn up and throws him into the ring.
Truth Waters: The Violence has massively over powered The New Evolution so far in this match, ever since he crashed and burned off the top rope like that especially.
George Cassidy: Indeed he has, Vince has more size and weight to the young Harris.
Vince picks Shawn up and hits him with a Sambo suplex, hits a fist drop then locks on the NYC Crippler, Shawn turns over and breaks out of the hold, Vince quickly grabs Shawn’s foot and locks in the figure four leg lock. Shawn begins tapping furiously but with the referee not fully conscious, Vince decides to let go of the hold, he walks over to the referee and tries to revive him, Vince then goes back over to Shawn and goes to the top rope.
George Cassidy: Here goes Vince Jones getting a little high risk.
Shawn gets to his feet again and Vince comes jumping off with the Neck Cutta, Shawn moves out of the way, Vince lands on his feet and goes for The Silencer, Shawn reverses out of that as well, he turns to face Vince and goes for a super kick, his left knee gives out on him again however and he falls to the mat, he begins banging the mat in frustration and starts shouting obscenities at seemingly nothing.
Truth Waters: Down again Cass! He’s having a tantrum.
George Cassidy: I don’t blame him; I would be too if my body failed me like that.
Shawn rolls over onto his back and flips to his feet, using his right leg to balance himself, he then goes for the super kick again, this time however he executes it beautifully and Vince falls to the mat, the referee finally regaining his composure, Shawn goes for the pin and Aaron Davies goes for the count.
ONE!
TWO!
…Kickout!
Shawn gets up and goes for a middle rope moonsault, Vince gets the knees up which Shawn goes crashing into, Vince then hooks the leg of Shawn and goes for the count.
ONE!
TWO!
Kickout!
Vince gets to his feet and picks Shawn up, Shawn elbows Vince in the cheek, Vince retaliates by pie facing Shawn, Shawn gets back up and jumps at Vince, Vince catches him however and hits him with a power slam, he goes for the count but Shawn kicks out straight away, Shawn gets up and goes for another super kick, Vince catches Shawn’s left leg and goes for a dragon screw, Shawn hits hard and grabs the knee in pain yet again, Vince goes outside and grabs the baseball bat, he gets back into the ring and looks at Shawn as Aaron Davies screams at him to put it down.
Truth Waters: What the hell is VJ doing?
George Cassidy: I don’t think Vince Jones is bothered about winning the match; he just wants to get rid of Shawn Harris once and for all.
Truth Waters: But he can’t get disqualified after all that!
Vince raises the bat over his head, the referee then grabs it off of him, Vince is about to hit the ref when Shawn gets up and hits Vince with a reverse DDT, Shawn pulls himself to the top rope and manages to land for 450 splash, he then goes for the pin.
ONE!
TWO!
…KICKOUT!
A frustrated Shawn gets up and begins climbing the ropes, Jasmine slides the slugga into the ring then gets up on the apron and distracts Davies, Vince grabs the bat and gets to his feet, he whacks Shawn in the back of the left knee with the bat then hits him with a diving neckbreaker, Vince kicks the bat to the outside, he goes for the figure four leg lock once more, but as he swings round Shawn leans forward and gets Vince in a cross face chicken wing type move, the referee still distract, gives Vince to position himself and elbow Shawn right in the balls. The crowd begin booing heavily as Vince breaks free of the submission.
George Cassidy: What a low blow that was!
Truth Waters: Shawn’s going to be talking like a 6 year old girl for a few weeks.
George Cassidy: That was pure desperation coming from Vince right there. Shawn has proved that even with the one good leg he is still a deadly force.
Jasmine is sent to the back by Aaron Davies much to the crowd’s delight, Vince begins kicking the knee of Shawn continuously, he tears off the knee brace and the bandages, he places Shawn’s leg on the bottom rope, stands over it, jumps up and lands on it sitting down. Shawn cries out in pain, Vince stalks Shawn like an eagle stalking its prey, Shawn gets up to one knee, Vince grabs Shawn then hits him with the Silencer, the crowd begin booing as he goes for the pin.
George Cassidy: Silencer!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Truth Waters: And Vince Jones gets the victory, Shawn put on one hell of an effort but it wasn’t enough to stop the Violence.
George Cassidy: I’m surprised Shawn did as well as he did, that knee must be in agony though.
Truth Waters: Agreed, but to hell with Harris, Vince Jones is our winner.
James Brunt: The winner... “THE VIOLENCE” VINCE JONES!
“Thug Luv” by 2Pac starts up as Vince gets to his feet, Jasmine makes her way back down the ramp and gets into the ring to hug him, she then raises Vince’s arm in the air, Vince looks down on Shawn and laughs at him, Vince is handed the slugga and he proceeds to slam it into Shawn’s knee once more before leaving the ring.
FEATURING: DAVID "PEARL" HARBER, SASHA VOLKYEVA
AUTHOR: PIERRE HYDE
“Sasha!”
Sasha Volkyeva is striding haughtily up a breezy corridor close to the open back doors of the MTS Centre when David Harber’s address makes her jump. Taking a pause to regain her ice-cold composure, she surveys her colleague with impassive eyes.
Sasha Volkyeva: What do you want?
No greeting; no familiarity. Tonight is one of division and conquest – as the name implies. And all the posters tell us AWC’s divide centres on two people – and these are those people. As Pearl goes West, Sasha goes East. The way things began, so they return. Harber, of California; Malibu is not on the planned tour, but the allure of the US is enough for him. And Volkyeva, from an unspecified village deep in the freezing Soviet wastes, privately relishing the chance to take AWC to her homeland.
Pearl looks harried, frantic, red-faced. While Sasha’s been dealing with her heels and fur coat, Pearl’s been doing the nitty-gritty. And it seems, not with much success.
Pearl: Have you heard from HSW?
Sasha Volkyeva: (coldly) Who?
Harber stares at her.
Pearl: Headstrong Wrestling. They’re supposed to be sending a duo for the Rumble.
Volkyeva sends her eyes up in their sockets as far as the stalks will allow and shakes her head a little. What does this man expect of her?! No, of course she hasn’t heard from HSW; she hasn’t heard of HSW!
Sasha Volkyeva: I have had no communication from this Headstrong Wrestling.
Pearl raises a hand to his tired face and begins to absent-mindedly feel the shadow stubble on his cheeks.
Pearl: Not a word... not a word...
Sasha Volkyeva: (sharply) Is there a problem?
And again, there’s that sort of silence. Incredulity on the part of David Harber, that his colleague can be so naïve and still have this job. So why is he so worried about this trial period, that will end with the dismissal of one Entertainment Co-Manager? Why does he believe that there’s even the slightest chance it’ll be him?
Pearl: What do you think?
Sasha Volkyeva: Oh, never mind! I concern myself with more... important matters, David. This is down to you.
Pearl: Maybe it isn’t down to anyone.
A gleam in his eyes.
Pearl: Maybe I’ll just leave it, and we’ll see what happens.
Volkyeva makes a noise. It sounds like she’s chuckling. But women don’t chuckle.
Sasha Volkyeva: Whatever you want, David.
And that’s all of her time he’ll get.
FEATURING: JAVIER SIKKAN
AUTHOR: OBINNA O.
Truth Waters: Well, AWC fans, we're gonna be continuing the action with---
The big screen turns on to static and a loud screeching pierces the ears of everyone in attendance at the MTS Centre.
George Cassidy: What the hell is going on here!?
Truth Waters: I've got no idea, Cassidy, but it doesn't sound too pretty!
The screech slowly fades and the black-and-white clears up to show the interior of a locker room. Seated on a long, black leather couch inside are three people. On the left side is a scrawny man dressed in a black Ol' Scratch t-shirt and black jeans; his hair is dyed green and drawn up into liberty spikes and his already pasty face is painted over with a white skull. On the right is an incredibly well-curved Latina, golden hair coming down in ringlets to frame her face. She wears a shimmering red dress that reveals mile upon mile of gorgeous legs. And in the center… well, in the center is a man dressed in a chic black silk shirt and dark blue pants. His long black hair hangs behind his shoulders and his chin is adorned with a neatly-trimmed goatee. And he's looking straight into the camera with an evil smirk.
Center Man: Hello, Atlantic Wrestling Club. They call me… well, they call me a lot of things. But you, you can call me Javy Sick.
Truth Waters: So that's who it is!
The man shifts a bit, leaning forward.
Javier Sikkan: I know you're all excited about my match later tonight, huh? Yeah, I mean, Total J Cup semi-finals. To decide who's gonna go on to win the pre-mier accomplishment in all of light heavyweight wrestling, the top crown, the one that Typical Mediocrity won last year. Now, since he went out real early in this thing, we know we've got ten times better a field this year. And you, AWC, are lucky 'nuff to have two guys who are at the top of that crowd in your ring tonight.
Javier grins and looks from the man on his left to the woman on his right before looking at the camera again.
Javier Sikkan: I mean, in one corner, we got the English guy. He's, you know, from England. And you know what they got in Britain? John, tell 'em what they got in England.
The skull-faced man sighs.
John: …Englishmen?
Javier Sikkan: Exactly. And what else, Marianna?
Marianna makes a show of thinking, putting a finger to full lips and pouting cutely.
Marianna: Uh, English muffins?
Javier slaps his knee and chuckles.
Javier Sikkan: Exactamundo! Any guy from a land with Englishmen and English muffins has got to be somethin', right? Right. So, in one corner, we got Michael fuckin' Kae, Englishman extraordinare, consumer of English muffins. And in the other corner, we got me.
Javier uses both hands to indicate himself, leaning backwards arrogantly.
Javier Sikkan: The suicidal, homicidal, genoci… I mean, the deviously notorious, the arrogantly uproarious, the with-your-mom-he'll-score-ious, the Sikk One, the Man of Your Dreams, the Top Rope Wonderkid, Alexander's Heir, King Mandingo, the Real Motherfucking Pope of Evil, Javier Sikkan. And I mean… Englishmen and English muffins are all fine and dandy. But when you're up against Javy Sick, that doesn't quite cut it.
Javier chuckled, shaking his head.
Javier Sikkan: Ah, Canada. You know, most of the TJC's been down in Mexico, on the other side of the good ol' USA. But Canada… I love Canada. You know why? Well, let me tell you. Mexico's got this little rule… a rule against the martinete. The piledriver. But in Canada… in Canada, they don't have that rule.
Javier nodded as if to affirm what the audience is supposed to not be able to believe.
Javier Sikkan: Oh yes. So Michael Kae had better take a bit of advice: be afraid. 'Cause in the ring, I'll be bringing a lot of what I couldn't earlier. And yeah, we've got a neckbrace for you, man. Don't worry about it.
Javier smiles and waves as the camera cuts back to static.
STIPULATION: SINGLES - WINNER JOINS EAST ATLANTIC TOUR
REFEREE: JOSEPH REID
AUTHOR: MARQUETTE
The letters that make up the words that make up the paragraphs that make up this match are written... they're just waiting to be put together.
FEATURING: ???
AUTHOR: ???
It was the first time he had been back in an arena for almost two years. It felt foreign, it felt dirty, it felt… somehow wrong? There were so many unanswered questions. There were so many unanswered problems. In general, everything had no answer.
Who had brought him here?
Who was he to target?
What was this list?
Who was the voice on the other end of the phone?
He’d already been here once before. It was one of those quick hits he’d always been preached too about. Get in. Get out. No cleanup. No fuss. No nonsense. No nothing. He didn’t know the mark – hell, he didn’t even know the person issuing the orders. The only thing that stood to reason was that this person had considerable sway back home.
That Jay Gatsby figure and the Suit… they must have known something.
They must have known something…
They must know.
Answers were like good food in this part of the world: scarce. What he would do for some food not smouldering in its own juices and fat…
Kill?
No. Don’t be so silly.
His footsteps carried him through corridor after corridor, it all looked the same. Some giant experiment where he was the mouse, or even worse he was stuck on some island under scientific observation. He couldn’t complain about American television – Lost had gripped him. It reminded him of his own upbringing, though the Masai tribes of Africa were a damn sight more friendly than these ‘others’ appeared.
He stopped to gauge his reflection in a nearby window. He was no narcissus, just the whole new image, keeping in line with the whole new person he technically was was frightening. His unkempt mane of dreadlocks was now tipped with blonde, his tattoo reminding him of his heritage removed… there were more scars now.
That Penguin…
FEATURING: THE NEW BLACK
AUTHOR: SIMON HUNTER
“It took twenty minutes to get you out of the car. Do you honestly think I’m going to let you go anywhere on your own? I’ve spent far too much money on you to leave it now.”
Sorrow shook his head, removing his long brown hair from his face with the back of a huge hand. He didn’t like looking after people, it involved far too much compassion and patience. He much preferred telling people what to do, and now he was taking this tactic with Lacuna.
Lacuna Debris: I’m sure there are laws against these kind of things
Lacuna was concentrating her large brown eyes intently on her booted feet, her tanned arms folded tightly over her chest. Her voice was almost monotonous, and she was clearly not interested in being here. Sorrow shrugged and sighed audibly.
Angelus Sorrow: We’re in North America, my dear. We’re cousins, by their standards we should be married by now. I’d have you on a lead if there weren’t so many connotations. Let’s face it, you aren’t going anywhere darling.
Clearly defeated, and not having the impetus to continue arguing, Lacuna decided to glare at her feet for a while longer. She wasn’t going to be dragged anywhere against her will.
Angelus Sorrow: Come on, you used to live for this. I’m sure you’ll love it once we find someone for you to kick in the nads. Just like the good old days.
Lacuna, however, wasn’t so sure and decided to continue with awkwardness for a while longer.
Lacuna Debris: I just want something to eat.
Angelus Sorrow: Easily sorted, if you’ll just follow me…
Sorrow beckoned her through a thin wooden door and towards a buffet table. Lacuna began to look less and less interested, but Sorrow beamed.
Angelus Sorrow: Ask and ye shall receiveth. Or something.
Feigning a look of hurt, Sorrow turned back to face Lacuna. His face had become so pitiful that she smirked, despite her mood, and Sorrow took it as a sign of progress. Spotting him smile, Lacuna turned her head back to her feet.
Lacuna Debris: I’m not hungry now.
This didn’t deter Sorrow, who had the bit between his teeth and was hungrily scoffing down handfuls of chips, or fries, whatever you want to call them.
Angelus Sorrow: I saw how much you enjoyed last week. We’ve come a long way, duck, so lets not mess it all up by playing these silly games. You can’t pretend to be bored all of your life, especially not when you clearly love wrestling again.
He caught sight of Lacuna retreating back into herself and decided to change tact.
Angelus Sorrow: I’ll tell you what, we’ll go and fine a stereotype to abuse. You always enjoyed lording yourself over people. Superiority complexes are fun, you want to give it a try?
Lacuna nodded, suppressing a smile as Sorrow turned his attention back to the buffet. They had unfinished business.
STIPULATION: SINGLES - TOTAL J CUP SEMI FINAL
REFEREE: SELENA SUMNER
AUTHOR: OBINNA O.
An unfamiliar chugging guitar riff sounds through the PA system as the lights flicker green and red; the heads of the crowd turn towards the entrance area.
Truth Waters: We got something special for you AWC fans tonight. A showcase of international light-heavyweight talent, the semi-finals of the Total J Cup!
George Cassidy: Oh, really? So… none of these guys are AWC?
Truth Waters: Well, no, but---
George Cassidy: But what? But this is bogus! What the hell is Pearl thinking?
Truth Waters: Shut your mouth, honky.
Michael Kae steps out onto the entrance ramp — dressed in green MK trunks, red knee- and elbow-pads, green boots, and a red robe — and glances out at the crowd curiously, folding his arms across his chest as "Bored" by the Deftones continues to play. He starts down the ramp at a quick clip, sliding into the ring and popping up to his feet. Excited, the crowd gives him a mild pop.
James Brunt: This match is a Total J Cup semi-final contest! In the ring now, weighing in at one hundred-and-ninety pounds and hailing from London, England… MICHAEL KAE!
George Cassidy: "Mortal Kombat" Michael Kae in the ring now and we're just waiting on his opponent!
Truth Waters: … I'm sure he doesn’t call himself "Mortal Kombat," Cassidy.
George Cassidy: Oh yeah? How do you know that!?
Kae tosses his robe off and looks back out at the entranceway just as the lights cut out, leaving the arena in darkness. On the big screen, a wildly flapping, bleeding white dove appears on a field of black. And then the screen goes completely to static.
George Cassidy: What in the hell is---
SICKMAA-AAAN!!
SICKMAN
sickman
sickmaaaaan…
The lights flash rapidly, inducing epileptic seizure as "Sickman" by Alice in Chains tears its way across the PA system. And you think it's done, but---
AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!
The lights cut again as the song drops into a dark, meandering riff with Layne Staley singing over it. A spotlight shines down on the stage, showing an assembly of three figures standing alone.
James Brunt: And his opponent, approaching the ring now accompanied by Marianna and John Skeletonface… he weighs in at two hundred and four pounds and comes to us from Corpus Christi, Texas. He is… JAVIER SIKKAN!
Truth Waters: Sikkan's pretty cocky tonight, looks like. He does have good taste in women, though.
George Cassidy: I can agree on that.
The man with the green hair molded into liberty spikes and face painted with a white skull led the procession, looking out sullenly at the crowd as he headed to the ring. Behind him was the man himself, Javier Sikkan in baggy leather pants and skull-painted black leather gloves, and hanging on his arm was Marianna in a brilliant red dress. Kae curled his upper lip as the trio headed to the ring. Marianna and John walked to one side as Javier leapt up to the ring apron.
George Cassidy: He's in the ring now and both men are squaring off…
DING! DING! DING!
Kae leaps forward and snares Javier around the neck, twisting and hurling the Latino into the corner. He goes to slam his elbow into Javy, but Javier rolls out of the way. He pops to his feet just as Michael turns around and throws himself into a back handspring, swinging his legs through and kicking Kae in the face. Kae stumbles backwards as Javier comes to his feet. He turns to Kae and howls---
Javier Sikkan: SOBER UP!
Truth Waters: Nice kick from Sikkan there and he's going to town now!
George Cassidy: This Kae guy can't… ahh, armdrag into the buckles!
Javier is hung upside down in a tree of woe position by that surprising armdrag from Michael Kae. Kae backs up across the ring and charges, jumping forward and nailing Sikkan in the face with a baseball slide! The crowd groans as Javier topples off the ropes and onto the canvas. Kae lifts him up and whips him hard into the ropes. As Javy comes back, he turns and springboards off the second rope, looking for a moonsault attack. Javy ducks it and Kae lands on his feet, but Javier is still running; he springboards this time, curling back in the air and driving the soles of his boots into Kae's chest!
Truth Waters: Sikkan can't keep the Kae man down for too long. Kae's back up on his feet now and they're trading blows…
George Cassidy: Drop toe hold from Kae to the Sick Man, hanging his neck on that middle rope! OOH, slingshot legdrop to the apron practically cuts his head off!
Truth Waters: And Kae's real quick about getting back into the ring and avoiding the count out.
Kae drags Sikkan up to his feet and quickly sends him back down with a snap suplex. Nimbly, Michael Kae twists and locks in a rear chinlock. Sikkan manages to push himself onto a knee and throw a few wild elbows into Kae's ribs. The Englishman relents and Sikkan rolls forward, coming to his feet just as Kae does. Sikkan rushes past Kae and hits the ropes; bewildered, Kae turns around right into a flying forearm!
George Cassidy: Kae smacks the mat like a wet piece of ham and Sikkan's going for the cover!
ONE!
KICKOUT!
Truth Waters: Kae rolls away and leg drop!
George Cassidy: Cover!
ONE!
KICKOUT!
George Cassidy: Javy Sick pulls his head up… calf branding!
Truth Waters: Relentless!
ONE!
TWO!
KICKOUT!
The crowd roars as Javy flips his black hair out of his face, howling with frustration. He lifts Kae to his feet finally and shoots him into the ropes. He turns to receive the Englishman, but Kae grabs his hand and slides under his legs. Before Javy can blink, Kae is up and sending him over with a massive exploder!
Truth Waters: And what a way to come back! Kae hits the ropes and here's a rolling senton!
George Cassidy: This is way too fast a pace, Truth. I can barely keep up!
Kae pulls Javy to his feet and shoves the Latino into a corner. He takes a few steps back before surging forth, leaping up for a monkey flip, but Javy fluidly slips between the middle and bottom ropes! Kae falls awkwardly back to a standing position and turns to find Javy slingshotting himself over the top rope and landing on Kae's shoulders. Kae instantly takes control and slams Javy back to the mat with a powerbomb! Kae glances back at the turnbuckles, intending to slingshot Javy onto them. He lifts back up to do so, but Javy swings his legs backwards and brings Kae back down to earth with a massive facebuster!
George Cassidy: Javier Sikkan and Michael Kae are just in a tremendous back-and-forth here. They aren't letting up for a second!
Truth Waters: Sikkan's got him up… CRUCINVERSION II! Tremendous belly-to-back mat slam from the Sikk One.
Sikkan gets up and brushes his hair out of his face, casting a gleeful grin at the crowd as he scales to the top rope. Recklessly, he flings himself backwards off the top rope, and he pays for it when Kae rolls away and lets Sikkan's moonsault crash hopelessly into the stiff canvas! Javier pops up, clutching his chest and groaning. Kae grabs him by the neck and lifts him up just enough to plant him back down again with a DDT. Rising to his feet once again, Kae lifts Sikkan up and slings him across his shoulders.
George Cassidy: Rolling forward Samoan drop from Kae and now he's into the ropes and comes back with a shivering leg drop!
Truth Waters: He's up and he hits him again! And again!
Sikkan rolls over groggily as Kae pulls him up to his feet and sends him to the ropes. Kae slings him over quickly with an arm drag and then, as both men rise to their feet, the Englishman leaps up into the air and scores with a backbrain kick! Sikkan drops onto his knees and Kae lifts him up, booting him quickly in the stomach. He brings his arms up to hook Sikkan's, but the crafty Latino fires a quick shot into Kae's stomach! Coughing, MK doubles over. Sikkan pushes himself up, running into the ropes and coming back at Kae's head.
Truth Waters: Sikkan grabs his neck as he flips over and ARSON IN THE DOCKYARDS!
George Cassidy: Neat flipover shoulder neckbreaker from Sikkan and now he's got him grounded with a hammerlock and he's kneeing him in the head!
Truth Waters: Sikkan's just being brutal tonight, Cassidy. He wants this win.
Sikkan lifts Kae into a seated position and charges into the ropes, this time coming back with a dropkick to the face that snaps Kae onto his back! Sikkan stands quickly and turns his back on the Englishman, soaring backwards into the air and grasping his ankles, only to land on raised knees! Sikkan rolls backwards, the wind knocked out of him. Kae takes the initiative and rises to grab Sikkan's hair, but the Sikk One pulls him face-first into the turnbuckles!
Truth Waters: Unorthodox tactics from Sikkan, but they ain't illegal.
Sikkan grasps the top rope and pulls himself up, jumping off the second rope and driving his heel into the back of Michael Kae's head! Kae slumps forward and Sikkan grabs him under the arms, tugging him up and pushing him away from the ropes. Sikkan slips out onto the apron and climbs up to the top. Kae regains his senses and climbs up to the second rope, shooting stiff punches to Sikkan's jaw. Sikkan's eyes head snaps backwards and he responds by thumbing Kae in the eye. Kae's hands come up and Sikkan leaps forward, wrapping his legs around Kae's neck and turning for a top rope twisting hurricanrana!
”HO-LY SHIT!
HO-LY SHIT!”
George Cassidy: Michael Kae isn't looking too good and Sikkan is having some trouble of his own!
Truth Waters: But holy hell, Cassidy, that was incredible! And these two are still going at it!
Sikkan leans against the ropes and Kae has already pulled himself to a kneeling position at the opposite corner of the ring. Sikkan closes the gap quickly and Kae slips out of the ring to spare himself a bit. This doesn't deter Sikkan, though; Javy Sick pulls himself up to the top rope and springboards forward, executing a perfect shooting star press that catches Kae and sends both men crashing into the cage!
Truth Waters: Wow! I can't… they might not know this, AWC fans, but I feel it's fair to remind you: they only get a five count here!
George Cassidy: Scramble back in!
The referee counts two as Sikkan and Kae do their best to get back up. As he hits the three, Sikkan turns and clocks Kae once more in the temple before turning and rolling back into the ring; the crowd, understandably, boos this show of unsportsmanlike conduct. The referee restarts the count for Kae. Kae rubs his head, but he manages to get into the ring, only to be caught by a jumping elbow drop from Sikkan!
George Cassidy: Javier Sikkan has Kae under his thumb right now!
Sikkan flips his hair out of his face and pulls Kae up to his feet. He hits him with a few stiff forearm shots and backs him up into the corner. Sikkan blows out some air and then gets out onto the apron, climbing up to the top rope behind his victim. He goes to grab Kae by the head, but the Englishman spins around and slams his knuckles into Sikkan's jaw! Kae completes the spin, his back to Sikkan as he reaches up and grabs Sikkan by the shoulder and wrist. He steps up onto the middle rope and pushes forward, tugging Sikkan down to the mat with a high-impact armbar takedown!
Truth Waters: Kae taking this match back into his territory, kicking at that shoulder relentlessly!
George Cassidy: OOF! An elbow drop for good measure! And another!
Kae spits out of the ring and pulls Sikkan to his feet. Still holding the arm, Kae bars it across his body and lifts Sikkan up, bringing him to the mat with a single-arm DDT that sets Sikkan to howling! Kae wrenches back with the armbar, trying to inflict every bit of pain he can on the Latino semi-finalist. Kae finally brings Sikkan to his feet again and scoops him up into the air. He takes a step forward, looking for the shoulder breaker, but Sikkan slips out the back! Kae rises and gets a faceful of knuckles for his trouble!
Truth Waters: Sikkan asserting himself, but Kae with the armbar takedown again! He's gonna pull that arm straight out the damn socket!
Kae slams his forearm like a tomahawk repeatedly into Sikkan's shoulder, making Sikkan writhe with pain. Sikkan manages to wrench his arm away, cradling it close like a child. Kae leans into the ropes and stomps towards Sikkan arrogantly before driving his bootheel into Sikkan's eye! Sikkan yelps and rolls away, trying to get as far from Kae as he can. Kae chases him across the ring and leaps forward, shoulderblocking his head into the bottom turnbuckle! The crowd groans as Kae lifts Sikkan off the mat and looks to whip him across the ring, but yanks him back into a short-arm Northern Lights suplex!
ONE!
TWO!
THR-
NO!
Truth Waters: Shoulder up for Sikkan!
George Cassidy: If Kae keeps working him like that, he's not gonna be able to use his shoulder even for that!
Kae shakes his head as he brings Sikkan to his feet again, this time actually whipping him into the ropes. He goes for the back body drop, but Sikkan leaps forward, grabbing him for the sunset flip. Kae manages to continue to roll through, coming up to his feet; the momentum carries him backwards and through the middle and top ropes onto the apron. Heartened, Sikkan rises to his feet, but he turns around and sees Kae's greeting: a slingshot somersault double axehandle smash that drops him like a bag of rocks! Kae goes for the cover again.
ONE!
TWO!
DENIED!
George Cassidy: Kae's gotta pick his spots. He's got the match in the bag now, but he's being a bit too eager.
Truth Waters: Best point you've made… ever.
George Cassidy: Shut your mouth, honky.
Truth Waters: Hey, I… what?
Kae slaps the mat angrily and drags Sikkan to the middle of the ring by his hair. He cocks his elbow and goes to drop it on Sikkan, but Javy manages to roll out of the way just in time. Kae gets up and stalks after him, but just as he reaches Sikkan, the Latino slams his knuckles just below Kae's kneecap! Kae stumbles and falls to one knee, allowing Sikkan to get to his feet. This is short-lived, though, as Kae surges forward and pushes Sikkan into the corner.
Truth Waters: Kae's a madman, Cassidy! He's going with lefts and rights and lefts and rights and… OOH, knee to the ribs!
George Cassidy: Let's not mince words, Truth: that was a low blow!
Kae snarls and grabs Sikkan by the arm, whipping him hard to the other corner. He follows him at a quick run, intent on inflicting as much pain as he can on the Sikk One. Sikkan isn't planning on dying any time soon, though; he runs up the buckles nimbly. Rather then stepping up and off the top, though, he pushes backwards and executes a somersault, catching a surprised Kae by the neck and rocking him with a cutter!
George Cassidy: RED PLANET BLUES! Picture-perfect imploding star cutter and that has got to be it!
Truth Waters: Javier Sikkan is hooking both legs here!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Truth Waters: And there we have it!
James Brunt: The winner… JAVIER SIKKAN!
"Sickman" strikes up again and Sikkan releases Kae, rolling out of the ring and quickly being embraced by Marianna. He lifts his hand up in victory as they start up the ramp, John Skeletonface following sullenly.
George Cassidy: A win in spectacular fashion for Javier Sikkan and he advances to the Total J Cup finals!
Truth Waters: And now we get back to AWC action!
FEATURING: MIKEY O'REILLY, THE NEW BLACK
AUTHORS: JEREMY J. AND SIMON HUNTER
Mikey O’Reilly is seen leaving his locker room, ready to compete in his return Bare-Knuckle match in just a few minutes. With his recent marriage to Stacy McFarland last week, Mikey is ready to get back into the ring and have himself a good ole fashion fistfight with whomever has the guts to face him in his own match.
About halfway to the ring, he runs into two people he isn’t familiar with: Angelus Sorrow and Lacuna Debris, the team of The New Black. Mikey has no idea who Angelus is, but he’s heard a little bit about Lacuna.
Now, Mikey O’Reilly is a good-sized wrestler: 6’1” 230 pounds, basically that of an average sized wrestler. But he’s small compared to Angelus Sorrow, being 6’8” 328 pounds. Yeah, Mikey’s giving up a lot of size to this aging wrestler.
Angelus Sorrow looks down at Mikey O’Reilly, grinning from ear to ear. When he speaks, he has this faux pas Irish accent, as if mocking the Belfast-born individual in front of him. Now seems like a good time to get Lacuna more interested in things again, starting with a spot of sport.
Angelus Sorrow: Top o’ th’ mornin’ t’ ya!
Angelus chuckles at Mikey O’Reilly, then he looks over at his cousin, Lacuna Debris, speaking in his booming English accent.
Angelus Sorrow: Look, Lacuna, it’s everyone’s favorite Irish stereotype, Mikey O’Reilly. Been ripping off the movie Snatch I gathered. ‘Tis a pity really, portraying himself as a drunken bare-knuckle boxing gypsy. I do wonder what the hell anyone would want to be Irish for, especially when its so easy to hide. Its like some big American thing… apparently it’s cool to be Irish or something..
Lacuna Debris: Yes, ‘tis a huge pity, to be sure.
Angelus Sorrow: I’ve got one for you, always a favorite back home. Why do the Irish always use two condoms? To be sure, to be sure! He snorts with laughter, and even Lacuna can't disguise the grin that was beginning to creep over her features. Sorrow loved Irish-bating, regarding it as one of his favourite ways to pass the time. Mikey O’Reilly looks up at Angelus Sorrow, then to Lacuna Debris, and then to Angelus again. He raises an eyebrow, trying to figure out why these two individuals would have a problem with O’Reilly. As far as he knows, he has done anything to these two new AWC superstars, let alone actually meeting these two new AWC superstars. Judging by the sheer size and the current demeanor Angelus is in, Mikey doesn’t want to do any hasty. He has a Bare-Knuckle Boxing match coming up in a few minutes. He does want to make it to the match in one piece.
Mikey O’Reilly: I don’t believe we’ve met. Name’s Mikey O’Reilly---
Angelus Sorrow: Look! It talks! Give the gyppo a potato! Now he and his kids can eat tonight. You Irish are so fun.
Mikey O’Reilly: I don’t know why you have a problem with Ireland, or why you have one with me. I don’t even know you. Though I am familiar with Lacuna Coil. That’s an awesome band. Cristina Scabbia is quite the looker.
Mikey looks over a Lacuna Debris.
Mikey O’Reilly: Your looks aren’t as good as hers.
Lacuna ponders this, scratching her chin in mock confusion. She tried looking hurt, but it didn’t quite work so she returned to looking blank, although the urge to kick Mikey somewhere unpleasant was rising in her.
Lacuna Debris: I think you’ll bloody well find that I was born before they named themselves. I don’t really understand the ties here. You look at me and think I should be one of them? You lot never did make much sense. Angelus Sorrow: I’d watch it if I were you, son. I don’t so much have a problem with Ireland, I just don’t like the ignorant little shits that come out of it. You can get lippy, but I don’t fancy your chances of coming out the other side with all your teeth in place. As far as I’m concerned you can stick your Emerald Isles up your arse. I just thought I’d make that known.
Mikey O’Reilly lets out a sigh. Who the hell are these people and why do they have a problem with him? Instead of answering that question, he tries to move past them, which, surprisingly, they allow Mikey to leave freely. Mikey stops a moment, looks behind him, shakes his head and heads towards the curtain.
What a weird time for Mikey O’Reilly to return to the AWC.
FEATURING: THE FURIOUS FISTS OF GOD
AUTHOR: SAM LANDRY
The scene stats off in the Furious Fist locker room. I would describe what they were wearing, but now that I have those sweet fucking posers, it’s not necessary, so just look at those from now on fuckers. The Fists, anywho, are both sitting on a bench, staring at the camera intently. In between them is a boom box with a wire going to an iPod.
Tim Martin: Lies. Deceit. Cheap shots. Cheating. Hell.
Liam Martin: Lordy, no!
Tim Martin: Yes, brother, those are the qualities. The qualities that a sinner would use in a match.
Liam Martin: A sinner like…?
Tim Martin: Like that Adam Dick. Three times we defeated him, crushed him and showed him the power of our White Lord…
Liam Martin: HALLELUJAH!
Tim Martin: No, brother, no! For you see, this is a world of “What have you done for me lately?” And we have, erm, done not a thing.
Liam Martin: Oh. Yes. Right.
Tim Martin: Mhm. But the Fists are taking a different road. This Dick must’ve been using incredible things to defeat a Godly force like us. He must’ve been using devil weed or something…
Liam Martin: Him and that Yardland Wag Connie.
Tim Martin: Mhm, exactly. 10-0, or whatever the fuck it is? 18 trillion belts? We know these fools…
Liam Martin: HEATHENS!
Tim Martin: …yes, heathens, could be using the power of the White Lord. So, we’ve concluded that, indeed, the devil weed has helped them. But it can’t JUST be the devil weed.
Liam Martin: No?
Tim Martin: Yes, no. So, we asked some reliable sources, aka no good hood rats, and asked them, what do they listen to?
Liam Martin: We received the answer “The fuck y’all cracka muh’fuggas askin’ fo’, y’all muh fuggas…”
Tim Martin: It goes on. But, we guessed that Adam Dick uses the power of…
Liam Martin: Don’t say it…
Tim Martin: RAP MUSIC!
Liam covers his ears.
Liam Martin: ARGHHH!
Tim Martin: It’s ok, brother! It’s ok! Now, why are we talking about this? Why do we bother bringing this up? Well, you see, we have an idea. Maybe…
Liam Martin: …JUST MAYBE…
Tim Martin: If we dissect that hip hop style of music, we can show the Dick that his music really holds no powers! He is done, nothing… see you fucking later!
Liam Martin: Liza Minelli’s vagina awaits you in hell, sinner!
Tim Martin: So, for starters, we’ll go “old school” with the rapper the… the GZA… how the fuck… do you pronounce…
Liam Martin: Gzshhhhalahba.
Tim Martin: I think not. Well, as it goes, let’s play this screeching hell-hole sound machine to play this song…
When the MC's came, to live our their name
And to perform (forrrrm)
Some had, to snort cocaine (caiiinnne) to act insane (sannne)
with before Pete Rock-ed it on, now gone
that the mental plane (plaaanne) to spark the brain (brainnn)
with the building to be born
Yo RZA flip the track with the what to guy
Check em check chicka icka etta UHH
The song stops. Tim and Liam stare crazedly at the boom box.
Tim Martin: Live out their name? Pete Rock-ed? Mental plane to spark the brain?
Liam Martin: It all makes sense now! These black rats APPEAL to the Bobby Mag Tonnies and the Adam Dicks out there! All the drug talk…
Tim Martin: Then I need to hear NO MORE! YOGGY SAG! ADAM DICK! HEAR ME OUT AS THE VOICE OF THE WHITE LORD! RUN AWAY FROM THAT BLACK MUSIC AND COME BACK OVER HERE! ARRIVE AT HEAVEN’S GATE! YOU STILL HAVE TIME!
Liam Martin: Watch us tonight… and see what the TRUE power of the White Lord can do. And… wait… you said that Froggie Jag Blondie listens to rap?
Tim Martin: AND FEEL THE WRATH… wait, what? He does, right?
Liam Martin: He seems more “hippy” ish…
Tim Martin: Wait… devil weed users DON’T only listen to the RAP music?!
Liam Martin: Uh… is that a problem…
Tim Martin: ARGH! YES! WE’RE RUINED, LIAM! HOURS OF LISTENING TO THIS! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MUCH I DON’T WANT TO BACK THIS ASS UP? DO YOU?!
Liam Martin: Well, um…
Tim Martin: I DON’T! ARGH! Well… are these “hippy” music people anything like “rap” music?
Liam Martin: Uh… want me to lie or tell you the truth?
Tim screams and throws his arms out to the side, knocking Liam off the bench backwards.
Tim Martin: Never will I have those hours back, ever… Juvenile, you have stolen parts of my life away! NOOOOOOOO!!!
The scene ends with the camera above Tim as he gets on his knees and screams towards the sky with Liam at the top of the screen, rubbing his head.
FEATURING: MIKEY O'REILLY, ???
AUTHORS: JEREMY J. AND PIERRE HYDE
“The Enemy” by Team Cazares begins to play as Mikey O’Reilly makes his way down to the ring, ready to have his Bare-Knuckle Boxing match. Due to confusion, no one knows whom Mikey O’Reilly is going to face; hell, Mikey is left in the dark as well.
James Brunt: Making his way to the ring... MIKEY O’REILLY!
Truth Waters: As you can see, Mikey O’Reilly is coming down to the ring for his scheduled Bare-Knuckle Boxing match. But the question remains - who is he gonna face?
George Cassidy: I have no idea. Ever since Anton Assault won his Four Way match to face Ellis Nash for her Frontier title in tonight’s main event, no one has accepted Mikey O’Reilly’s challenge. Perhaps this match won’t take place if no one steps up to face him.
Truth Waters: And who would? Mikey O’Reilly is a former eight-time Irish bare-knuckle boxing champion in Samuel Hagen’s bare-knuckle boxing outfit. He inadvertently killed his best friend and rival, Ian McLeod, in a match several years ago. Maybe because of his early reputation as a bare-knuckle boxer is making everyone spooked. Perhaps I’ll take the challenge...
George Cassidy: I already told you, no!
Truth Waters: Worried about me, huh?
George Cassidy: I just want to see O’Reilly’s reaction when he realises he doesn’t even get a match!
Mikey O’Reilly rolls inside the ring and asks ring announcer James Brunt for his microphone. Brunt gladly hands the microphone over. Mikey turns to face the stage, seeing if anyone is going to come out to face him. When no one comes out, Mikey starts to speak.
Mikey O’Reilly: All right, I’m out here, I’m dressed and I’m ready to take someone’s head off tonight. Since I have no idea who I’m facing and no one was man even to step up to the plate, I’ll take on anyone in the AWC locker room.
Still no one shows up. This is making Mikey O’Reilly very aggravated. He has the impulse to leave the ring, find the nearest person in the backstage area and drag his ass out to the ring to beat up in a bloody pulp.
Mikey O’Reilly: C’mon it’s not that complicated. Lest you forget, this bare-knuckle boxing match is an open challenge where anyone can face me, whether it be from someone in the AWC locker room or anyone from PTC, it doesn’t matter to me. The rules are simple: you keep fighting until you knock your opponent out. No time limit, no rounds. So who’s it gonna be?
Everyone looks to the stage, anticipating someone to answer Mikey O’Reilly’s challenge. Seconds tick by and no one has accepted Mikey’s challenge. Instead of losing his temper, Mikey keeps his composure in check and resumes speaking.
Mikey O’Reilly: So that’s how it is, huh? That’s what I thought. Anyone would be glad to face me in a match where I can “job” to them, but no one has the balls to face me in a bare-knuckle match? Then so be it. Looks like I win my forfeit.
Mikey O’Reilly hands James Brunt back his microphone and is ready to leave the ring...
Until...
music.
George Cassidy: What the...
We know it. We know it well. And there is the most almighty cheer in the MTS Centre. As a mobile home bursts through the curtain, there are actually tears rolling down cheeks with sheer joy at the return of...
Truth Waters: PADDY O’SHEA!
“Raggle Taggle Gypsy” is the music, and O’Reilly is white-faced, mouth open in complete shock as O’Shea throws open the door of the caravan and hops out to a rapturous reception. He soaks it all in for just a second... and then sprints to the ring to shut Mikey O’Reilly up, once and for all.
STIPULATION: BARE-KNUCKLE BOXING
REFEREE: RICHIE TRAVIS
AUTHOR: ???
Paddy O’Shea’s hands blur into one whirling dervish as blow after blow rain down upon the exposed ribcage of Mikey O’Reilly. O’Shea grips the back of O’Reilly’s skull before measuring a shot of immense proportions which sends a lifeless O’Reilly to the canvas.
Dave Kern: Wow, O’Shea is really taking it to the Tha’ Fokin’ Pikey.
Jeff Marx: Dave, your accent sucks.
Steven Smith: Just like your third wife.
Jeff Marx: But I’ve only been married---
Steven Smith: Sucks, SUCKS I SAY~!
Jeff Marx: Only I may tilde it up. Never ever tilde… ever.
Pause.
Truth Waters: ...Hey!
Jeff Marx: Oh shut up a moment, they flew us in for this one.
George Cassidy: Huh?
Steven Smith: Canadian law. You need to go take your rest break.
George Cassidy: Hell yeah!
Jeff Marx: Heh. Told you it’d work.
Dave Kern: Jeff...
O’Shea plays to the crowd. They are in shock at the return of the Man from the Caravan. This match was suited to him. He hoped for a glorious return.
Dave Kern: O’Reilly finally stands…
O’Shea, unaware that the copycat Pikey doesn’t stay down for too long, is facing the ring ropes goading the crowd into a rapturous reception. Bad move. O’Reilly charges in from behind with an old school granddad! Or, to you and me, a knee to the hamstring.
Steven Smith: A granddad! Old School!
Jeff Marx: A what?
Steven Smith: You wouldn’t understand…
O’Shea limps into the ropes and is greeted by a tastefully applied head butt. O’Reilly’s skull crashes forth into the back of O’Shea’s head sending the Irishman to the floor. The crowd responds with boos.
Jeff Marx: I wish they’d all shut up - this isn’t fairy boy boxing… this is men fighting Irish style.
O’Reilly isn’t in any mood to let the crowd dictate to him his style of fighting as he picks O’Shea up. He lays an elbow straight into the nose of O’Shea before following up with a left and right jab combination landing squarely on the face. A sweeping left hook finds itself connecting with an exposed jaw before two sickening thuds to the stomach of O’Shea which a certain Ricky Hatton would have enjoyed send O’Shea to the floor on one knee as he doubles over.
Dave Kern: Absolutely vicious onslaught from Mikey O’Reilly.
Jeff Marx: He looks beautiful in there… no wonder he wanted this kind of match.
Steven Smith: Now who’s stealing whose thunder?!
Jeff Marx: Uhm… I meant in a poetic fashion… his boxing skills… artistically…
Steven Smith: Come out the closet Jeff…
O’Reilly takes one look at the doubled over O’Shea before launching himself into the ropes and returning with a resounding overhand right to the crown of O’Shea’s head. Mikey O’Reilly gets to his feet and turns toward the crowd, making it known in no uncertain Irish terms who is going to win tonight’s encounter.
Dave Kern: O’Reilly certainly looks the part - simply amazing use of fists and power.
O’Reilly moves to pick O’Shea up from his fallen position. Possum time. O’Reilly lifts Paddy to his feet and winds up a big right hand.
Jab.
Jab.
Crack.
Dave Kern: What a recovery from O’Shea!
Jeff Marx: That Irish bastard…
O’Shea continues the retort with a blistering flurry of highly improvised strikes. Each one causing O’Reilly to recoil in pain. He certainly didn’t expect that. O’Shea rallies further landing a solid left hand to the chin of O’Reilly which sends the Pikey to the ground. O’Shea drops down to one knee to catch his breath.
Dave Kern: This match has been a slobber knocker so far folks!
Steven Smith: JR…
Dave Kern: Who?
Jeff Marx: I hope O’Shea gets tired… send him back to the caravan from whence he came!
Steven Smith: Whence? You sure you’re not trying to come out of anywhere…?
Mikey O’Reilly rallies to his feet as both Irishmen square off against each other in the middle of the ring.
Dave Kern: Mexican standoff!
Jeff Marx: It’s at least an Irish one…
O’Shea looks to the crowd for some inspiration: it was all O’Reilly needed. Perfectly executed double legged takedown. O’Reilly quickly surpasses O’Shea’s defence attempt and mounts him. O’Reilly’s elbows become a machine - blow after blow of nefarious infliction crashes into the face of O’Shea.
Jeff Marx: O’Shea is getting torn a new nostril…
O’Reilly quickly and somewhat sloppily applies a guillotine chokehold. O’Shea, slowly feeling asphyxiated, unleashes a plethora of shots to the abdominal area, trying in someway to break the relentless hold of O’Reilly. Forcing his way to a standing position O’Shea is still locked in the guillotine hold. O’Reilly looks around before dropping O’Shea to the ground with a DDT.
Dave Kern: Ouch. Vicious guillotine DDT there, that’s got to hurt.
O’Reilly jumps out the ring as the referee Richie Travis looks on.
Jeff Marx: Where’s the pikey going?
O’Reilly reaches under the ring apron and pulls out two tables which he duly throws into the ring, a steel chair and a trashcan.
Dave Kern: Irish rules I take it?
Jeff Marx: O’ top o’ the morning’ to this beejesus…
Steven Smith: I’m sorry?
O’Reilly rolls into the ring clutching the steel chair, tapping it on the ground he waits for O’Shea to turn…
CRUNCH.
O’Reilly drops the chair as he holds his Irish jewels in both hands. Swift low blow from O’Shea.
Jeff Marx: That’s cheating!
Dave Kern: It’s an Irish bare knuckle boxing fight… did you ever see Snatch?
Jeff Marx: No, but I saw your wife’s Snatch!
O’Shea unleashes a Flurry of Punches sending O’Reilly down to one knee. In one fluid motion O’Shea catapults off of the ropes launching himself back with a missile like knee, striking O’Reilly on the temple. As O’Reilly falls to the mat O’Shea jumps on top of him trying to lock in a choke hold of some sort. He locks in something resembling a dragon sleeper camel clutch, and slowly pulls O’Reilly back, wrenching on his neck.
Dave Kern: Dragon sleeper!!! This one could be over soon.
Jeff Marx: A dragon sleeper? Meh… it looks like a camel clutch.
Steven Smith: Looks like a camel toe to me…
O’Reilly sensing he may be in trouble desperately claws at O’Shea’s arm. With an amazing show of dexterity he manages to pull O’Shea forward just enough to lock in an improvised armbar. O’Shea quickly releases the choke hold as O’Reilly rolls toward the ropes to catch some air.
Dave Kern: That was impressive… and he tells us he can’t wrestle.
Jeff Marx: Huh? But he can… oh wait I see…
Steven Smith: I like that colour on him.
O’Shea realising the need to keep the pressure on jumps to his feet and turns… whack. O’Reilly crushes the trash can over O’Shea’s skull sending him reeling into the corner. O’Reilly steams in and begins to relentlessly pound O’Shea with flurries of lefts and rights, the occasional knee to the ribs begins to take it’s toll on O’Shea as he sinks to the second turnbuckle. Grabbing O’Shea’s skull, O’Reilly plants the sweetest of head butts on O’Shea’s nose. An explosion of crimson flies into the air drawing gasps from the nearby crowd.
Dave Kern: He’s busted his nose… god almighty…
Jeff Marx: Ooh… that was worth the admission fee alone.
O’Reilly runs to the other side of the ring and sets a table up against the opposing turnbuckle. Grabbing the chair he runs into O’Shea, levelling him with a sickening shot. Picking up off the ground in a seemly effortless show of strength, O’Reilly walks toward the opposite corner with O’Shea strung vertically above his head.
Dave Kern: Stalling suplex?
O’Shea realising something is about to go catastrophically wrong manages to fall to his feet, locking a front face lock on O’Reilly as he falls. O’Shea lands two well placed knees before destroying O’Reilly through the table with a release belly to belly suplex.
Dave Kern: Oh my… what a counter from the Caravan Man.
Jeff Marx: I feel cheated. Where’s the boxing?
O’Shea explodes to his feet and checks his nose to ensure it still is on his face. Setting the other table up in the centre of the ring he tosses the quasi limp O’Reilly on top.
Dave Kern: This can only be a bad thing.
Jeff Marx: Get up Mikey, get up!
O’Shea slowly climbs the turnbuckles drawing a huge ovation from the crowd. O’Shea turns to the prone O’Reilly and goes airborne!
…
…
…
Destruction.
Dave Kern: OH MY GOD, WHAT THE HELL JUST HAPPENED?!
O’Shea flies off with amazing hang time with a top rope splash attempt… at the last minute O’Reilly moves catching the flailing arm of O’Shea in an armbar sending O’Shea chest through the table, his arm locked in place by O’Reilly.
Dave Kern: Absolutely UNREAL counter from O’Reilly.
Jeff Marx: Some counter… they’re both out for the count.
Amidst the carnage a bloodied O’Shea and a now battered O’Reilly lie practically unconscious. The destruction in the ring can be seen all too well on the faces of the Irish.
Dave Kern: O’Shea looks to be getting to his feet somehow…
Both O’Shea and O’Reilly begin to stand, O’Shea somewhat wobbly on his feet as he swings for O’Reilly. A quick parry and counter jab sends O’Shea reeling. O’Shea unloads a sluggish hook attempt but O’Reilly is already inside his range and crashes a knee straight into the abdominal region before a crushing uppercut sends O’Shea into the corner.
Dave Kern: O’Shea’s looking tired…
Jeff Marx: It’s hard work being Irish.
O’Shea swings out with a boot, more in desperation than anything else. O’Reilly, like a well trained lion swats the leg toward the ground - a well measured elbow sends O’Shea to the floor. O’Reilly goads the ringside crowd.
Dave Kern: O’Reilly looking dominant in the latter stages.
O’Shea searches the floor beside him… bingo… the steel chair. O’Reilly is completely oblivious to all around him as he enters a discussion with a nearby fan on the merits of Irish and Scottish whiskey. O’Shea crawls to a vertical base and begins to tap the chair on the ring canvas - he’s looking to end it all here.
Dave Kern: He’s looking to end it all here…
Jeff Marx: That’s what he said…
Dave Kern: Who?
Jeff Marx: You know… him…
Steven Smith: Him who is called I am.
O’Shea whistles toward O’Reilly causing him to spin. Both men charge to one another…
CRACK~!
As O’Shea swings the chair towards a possibly death inducing shot to the cranium O’Reilly unleashes a punch of hellish proportions to the chair… the metal contorts under the sheer forced of impact. O’Reilly’s hand smashes through the chair and straight into the face of O’Shea. Goodnight nurse.
Dave Kern: OH MY GOOD GOD!
Jeff Marx: I see now why we’ve been especially flown in for this match… for we have skills.
Dave Kern: O’Shea is down… and quite possibly out.
Mikey O’Reilly holds his hand and yells the ref to begin the count. The One Punch Pikey~! has certainly lived up to his billing.
1...
2...
3...
4...
No show of emotion from O’Reilly as a blood smeared face of O’Shea is strewn on the floor.
5...
6...
7...
8...
9...
10...
Dave Kern: Mikey O’Reilly produces the punch of all punches to send O’Shea out for the count in this one.
Jeff Marx: What a punch that one was…
Dave Kern: We’re out of here then I take it?
Truth Waters: Yeah. The road manager was giving me creepy looks.
FEATURING: MYSTERIOUS SILHOUETTE, LIMO DRIVER
AUTHOR: ???
The camera catches a mysterious silhouette standing in a shadow talking to a man in a driving uniform. The first man hands the second one an envelope.
Mysterious Silhouette: Just drive him around for a while, and if he asks any questions, shoot him.
Driver: Shoot him?
Mysterious Silhouette: Well, okay. Don’t shoot him, but just distract him. He’s easily confused.
Driver: Alright, but where should I drop him off?
Mysterious Silhouette: I don’t give a flying fuck. Just get him away from here, you understand?
The driver nods, and starts walking away.
FEATURING: ???
AUTHOR: ???
He kept to the shadows, his thick pacific skin blended naturally with the darkness.
So too did his soul…
He had been skulking the whole night, avoiding all contact with anyone backstage. His clandestine attitude was one which was wrought with a maladjusted personality developed from those two years in the box.
He had not uttered a word all night, nor would he. He was under strict instructions to not talk to a soul or any other person without one. The letters MRSV were repeated to him, but their significance meant as little as when they were spoken as they do now.
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
He was told to look for a piece of paper.
Great.
Details were something clearly lacking in this relationship.
Just then, when all doubt crossed his mind, there it was – a signup sheet of sorts.
He’d been told what to do.
He gripped a handful of dreadlocks, it was a nervous habit.
Looking right and left, he walked briskly toward the sheet. His eyes flitting across the paper:
East Atlantic…
Just like he’d been told.
Grabbing a pen from his pocket he signed in an eloquent hand two letters.
GA
The ink had barely left his pen before the figure had once more delved back into the shadows.
He was no Batman, but something in AWC was about to change.
FEATURING: ZSASZ, CHAINZ
AUTHORS: JEREMY J. AND MIKE S.
“Conquer All” by Behemoth starts to play as the narcissist himself, Zsasz, slowly steps out onto the steps, showing off his superior flawlessness to the Canadian fans, which results in a chorus of jeers. Zsasz simply smirks at the Canadian peons as he makes his way to the ring. He steps off of the ramp, saunters up the steel ring steps and enters the ring. When he steps into the center of the ring, he reaches inside his dress jacket and produces a microphone.
George Cassidy: Zsasz is in the ring and is ready to speak. This ought to be good.
Truth Waters: We’ll see what’ll happen, Cass.
Before Zsasz speaks, the beautiful smirk on his face now turns into an ugly sneer.
Zsasz: Greetings all you Canadian miscreants! As you bore witness to last week’s Fresh!, I had a little fun with Chainz’s little girlfriend, Tracy Stanton. It’s always a pleasure to see that little girl suffer. Anyway, I told Tracy that I had a challenge for her boyfriend, and tonight is the night to issue said challenge. So Mike Sloan, if you be so kind to come out to the ring so we can get this show on the road.
A few seconds pass with no signs of Mike “Chainz” Sloan. Finally, “Cure” by The Wild Colonials start to play as Chainz steps out onto the stage, rather hesitant to walk down to the ring and face Zsasz. Ignoring the boos from the fans, he slowly walks down to the ring, keeping his guard up. He rolls into the ring, getting face to face with his bitter rival. Chainz really wants to tear Zsasz limb from limb, instead he keeps his composure, waiting for whatever Zsasz has to say.
Zsasz: So good to see you again, Sloan. It’s been... what... three months since our last encounter?
Chainz: Yeah, if I remember last you were crying your eyes out ‘bout that piece of shit wife of yours. What’s the matter, is that a rough spot for you? So now you call me out and if I wanted I could rip your dick off and shove it down your ass, but I’ve got more attractive people to feel on tonight so make it quick.
Zsasz lets out a small chuckle at Chainz’s comments. Obviously Chainz will never let Zsasz live down the fact that he’d tortured him before Twilight Of The Gods.
Zsasz: I see you haven’t changed one bit Sloan. Still in rare form, I see. Anyway, I’ve called you out here because I want to unleash your full potential. For three months, I’ve been reliving the torture you’ve given me, and I’ve been concocting plans to make you suffer. Well... make your little girlfriend suffer, but I digress. About me unleashing your full potential, I want to challenge you to a match, but not just any match... a Gauntlet match!
Truth Waters: Zsasz to face Chainz in a Gauntlet match? That ought to be good!
George Cassidy: Sounds good to me, but what army is he going to hire?
Chainz: So let me get this straight you want to face me in the ring? You know I’m not like your bitch Mikey O’Reilly in the ring. You stepping into my ring is laughable, just as laughable as you thinking you can come between Tracy and I.
Zsasz: ‘Tisn’t my fault that Tracy is too naive to see the truth of your sickening ways. Obviously she lacks the intelligence and the common sense to know she’s in a dangerous relationship with a whelp like you. But I’m not here to exchange witty banters and childish remarks with you. After hearing your rather disappointing remarks, I take it you don’t want to face me. What’s wrong? Not man enough to accept my challenge?
Chainz: Why the hell would I accept a gauntlet match to get at you when I can strike you down whenever I please?
Truth Waters: He does have a point there. Chainz never follows authority. No one can stop this man!
Chainz walks around the ring smiling and chuckling to himself.
Chainz: I’m smarter than you and I know it’s a hard thing for you to comprehend, but you’re playing mind games with a superior mind. Don’t fuck with me boy, don’t try and get inside my head cuz it ain’t gonna happen. Save it for the rest of these motherfuckers that walk around the back. As for your challenge, I’ll decline and offer you a challenge. Why don’t you try fitting my dick inside your mouth.
Zsasz now laughs at Chainz’s vulgar remarks. Then he abruptly stops, staring into Chainz’s sadistic green eyes.
Zsasz: Lest you forget, Sloan, it was me who saved you from your losing streak. If it weren’t for me, you’d be a worthless jobber who becomes everyone’s bitch!
Zsasz regains his composure. A fistfight isn’t what he’s looking for with Chainz, not that he isn’t afraid to trade blows with the monster in front of him, but it wouldn’t be smart. Chainz continues to bury his gaze into Zsasz sapphire blue eyes, mustering up everything in his power not to dislodge Zsasz’s head from his shoulders.
Zsasz: Besides you haven’t heard the full extent of my challenge. In this Gauntlet match, I’ve hired accomplices for this match. You won’t know who they are until the match is set. But... here’s the grand prize: if you can get past my hired assassins, you get to face me in the climax of the Gauntlet match. I know it’s what you want, Sloan, I can see it in your eyes. As to quote a popular game show, what do you say... deal or no deal?
Chainz isn’t amused with Zsasz’s challenge. He’s far smarter than to fall into this trap.
Chainz: What do you take me for, Zsasz? Do I have “imbecile” tattooed to my forehead? I’m not gonna play these little games with you. No fucking deal!
The fans boo as Chainz leaves the ring, making his way up the ramp way. Zsasz sadly shakes his head.
Zsasz: You never struck me as a coward, Sloan. Obviously your balls haven’t dropped from their sack.
Chainz isn’t listening to Zsasz. He isn’t in the mood to play these insipid games. He has better things to do.
Zsasz: Evidently that bitch Tracy isn’t worth avenging for.
Chainz stops in his tracks and puts his hands on his hips. He knew Zsasz was going to go there, but it still stung him. Chainz turned around and walked back into the ring. He faces Zsasz and claps his hands together.
Chainz: Nice try, but like I said, fuck these little mind games. Yeah, you got to Tracy but don't you forget who the fuck it is you're dealing with. Your boy Mikey could become just another victim, another statistic if you will. And if I'm not mistaken he just got married; bet his wife tastes just like strawberries, what with her red hair and all I bet she’d melt in my mouth.
Zsasz’s grin fades, but doesn’t disappear completely.
Chainz: And his children, I bet they’d have all sorts of fun playing with me. So you keep talking, but realize I got shit on you too. You wanna start a damn war, I’ll bring it like you wouldn’t believe.
Chainz backs out of the ring once more.
Zsasz: I could give a damn bout Mikey, he can take care of his own. However, after seeing your fiancée’s naked body I suddenly have the urge to defile her body... perhaps I shall partake in such a manner.
Zsasz’s signature grin returns to his face as he witnesses anger in Chainz’s eyes. Chainz comes back into the ring again, getting face to face with Zsasz.
Zsasz: This isn’t about Mikey O’Reilly, his recent marriage, his kids or your diseased-riddled girlfriend, this is about you and me settling a score. I’ve been looking to have one big match to have against a bitter rival and you’d be perfect for me to administer the greatest ass kicking of your career. Accept my challenge, Sloan. I want to see what you’re truly made of.
Zsasz extends his hand, wanting to shake his rival’s hand. Chainz looks down at it, scoffs and then shakes his head. He’s developing a headache spending more time than he desired with Zsasz. He lets out a sigh, looking back at the narcissistic monster in front of him.
Chainz: You want me to kick your ass, fine I accept. When do you want me to dismantle your faggoty “assassins” and then ass-rape you into an oblivion?
Zsasz: When I choose to set the match. Could be a week from now, a month from now or it could be a year from now. But know this... always keep your guard up, Sloan. You’ll never know when I’ll strike. When you think everything is quiescent, I’ll be looming in the shadows. Both you and your beloved girlfriend will be nothing more than fair game.
For Chainz’s rebuttal, he slaps the taste out of Zsasz’s mouth, rocking the narcissist hard. Zsasz falls to one knee as Chainz looms over him, smiling. He then spits on him, makes his way out of the ring and exits to the backstage area. Zsasz recovers from his slap, looking over at the departing Chainz with blood trickling down his mouth. What makes this whole even more scary is that Zsasz is smiling after what had happened.
Truth Waters: Chainz has accepted Zsasz’s challenge for the Gauntlet match! But when is this match gonna happen?!
George Cassidy: I dunno, Truth, but when it happens, it’s gonna be a powder keg waiting to explode.
FEATURING: PADDY O'SHEA, MIKE WADE
AUTHORS: MIKE AND MICHAEL DOHERTY
The scene switches backstage to the locker room. We see Paddy O’Shea, seated. A door opens and shuts again. Whoever enters causes Paddy to stand to attention. The look on his face isn't one of welcome that's for sure.
Paddy O’Shea: You...
The camera pans back to reveal it's Mike Wade. We can hear a bustle from the crowd inside the arena, the news has switched from smarks to marks about Mike’s retirement.
Mike Wade: Me!
Paddy O’Shea: Wha' the hell do ye...
Mike stands off a bit, clearly not wanting any hassle.
Mike Wade: Hey Paddy, in fairness, we've been there, we've done that.
Paddy O’Shea: Aye...
Paddy seems genuinely surprised with Mike’s genuine attitude.
Mike Wade: I'm a changed man Paddy, no Facey polluting my mind.
Paddy O’Shea: Ye can understand how hard it is fer me to look at ye. All that shit ye put me through. Hitting me with a fecking Transit van, TFWing me girlfriend, stealing me girlfriend only fer ye t' TFW her again. The list goes on!
Mike covers his face, clearly hiding his laughter and enjoyment at what he's put Paddy through.
Mike Wade: Good times.
Paddy O’Shea: Oi! They were not good times!
Mike Wade: You know what you're right. I was an arsehole. But at the end of the day I can't take any of it back all I can offer you is this...
Mike extends a hand to Paddy. Paddy is taken aback. We've never ever seen Mike Wade extend a hand of friendship and actually mean it. Can His Swerviness be trusted?
Mike Wade: No swerve, I promise!
Paddy accepts the handshake, timidly, but accepts it none the less.
Paddy O’Shea: It takes a big man.
Mike nods. He goes to leave but his hand is still locked in handshake position. Paddy pulls him forward as the two meet nose to nose.
Paddy O’Shea: Aye respect ye, but know this, aye will NEVER forgive your arse!
Mike Wade: I don't ask you to. But tonight isn't about me and you, I've got another fish to fry. It's time to finish this once and for all.
Paddy O’Shea: And for that, aye wish ye good luck. Cleanse yourself of your sins and do the right thing.
Mike Wade: Count on it!
Paddy breaks the handshake. Their noses part.
Truth Waters: Whoa.
George Cassidy: Did you feel that?
Truth Waters: The intensity actually nearly broke through my screen. Wade a man on a mission tonight. And if this "fish" he says he has to "fry" is who I think it is it's gonna shake the entire foundation that AWC is built upon.
STIPULATION: SPECIAL SUDDEN-DEATH FOUR WAY ELIMINATION - COUNTDOWN TROPHY
REFEREE: AARON DAVIES
AUTHOR: JEREMY J.
Truth Waters: All right, we are back for more action here in Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada! In just a few short minutes, we are gonna bear witness to one of the most insane matches ever created: the Countdown Trophy match! George Cassidy, why don’t you tell everyone at home how the rules work?
George Cassidy: Um, no.
Truth Waters: Alright. The beginning of the match has a five-minute, regular sanctioned time limit. Winner scores pinfalls and submissions. After the five minutes are up, we go into a thirty-second sudden death sanction time limit where you win with a one-count pinfall. The match keeps going with these insane rules until one person is standing. That winner will go on to Fresh! and defend the Trophy right through until Coast To Coast.
George Cassidy: Damn that’s a lot to remember. Let’s go down to the ring and see what kind of a cluster we’re gonna see!
Truth Waters: Take it away, James Brunt!
James Brunt: The following is a Special Sudden-Death Four Way Elimination match for the Countdown Trophy!
“Thrice” by Music Box starts to play as AgentDash steps onto the stage and marches down to the ring. The Canadian fans are mildly cheering the AWC superstar.
James Brunt: Making his way to the ring, from Berkeley, California, weigh 190 pounds... AGENTDASH! “Thrice” then switches to “Live to Die” by Since October, and the Canadian fans are on their feet, cheering for Kip Brown. The Canadian girls are going out of their minds seeing the actor-turned-wrestler walking down to the ring.
Truth Waters: These girls are bugging out seeing Kip Brown coming down to the ring.
George Cassidy: I don’t see what the big deal is. He’s a former actor entering the wrestling world. And unlike that gay East Atlantic broadcaster, Steven Smith, I don’t cream my pants every time I see a superstar walking down to the ring.
Truth Waters: Thank God for that! Otherwise I’d have to kill ya.
George Cassidy: Homophobe much, Truth?
Truth Waters: Well, I... NO!
James Brunt: Making his way to the ring, from Conroe, Texas, weighing 225 pounds... KIP BROWN!
Kip Brown enters the ring, looking over at AgentDash, goes over to his respected corner and climbs it, raising his arms in the air. More cheers from the Winnipeg fans, while the girls are squealing in delight. Brown blushes a bit and gets off the turnbuckle.
Truth Waters: Now I’ve seen everything, ladies and gentlemen! Someone threw a bra at Kip Brown. Luckily the fencing stopped it getting there... He’s getting more action than a teen star!
George Cassidy decides not to comment. It is probably best that he doesn’t comment. With Kip Brown and AgentDash in the ring, “Turkish March” by Mozart plays as Captain Suleimon steps onto the stage, getting hugely jeered by the Winnipeg fans. The Captain sneers at the Canadian fans, then makes his way down to the ring.
James Brunt: Next up, from Istanbul, Turkey, weighing 198 pounds, he is “The Sultan of Smackdown...” CAPTAIN SULEIMON!
George Cassidy: Here comes a definite favorite in this match up, Captain Suleimon!
Truth Waters: I think Kip Brown or Teresa Tomas have better chances of winning this match. Speaking of Teresa...
The famous horn of the Dukes of Hazard’s General Lee seeps through the P.A. system, blasting “Dixie.” This is followed by Waylon Jennings picking the intro to “Good Ole Boys.” A record scratching abruptly stops the Southern anthem, followed by utter silence. Without warning a cannon is heard blasting through the speakers and the lights begin to flicker violently, “Big Guns” by AC/DC floods the building. Teresa Jane Tomas, Top Rope Temptress, THE American Woman, and AWC’s own Redneck Princess marches down the entrance ramp with a bottle of Jack Daniels in hand.
James Brunt: Making her way to the ring, from Nashville, Tennessee, weighing 145 pounds, she is “THE American Woman...” TERESA TOMAS!
She stops mid-way, takes a long swig and chucks the nearly full bottle of booze over her shoulder into the crowd for a thirsty fan to enjoy before she completes her journey to the ring.
George Cassidy: One of these days, she’s gonna kill someone with that Jack Daniels bottle, then she’ll have a real murder charge on her hands!
Truth Waters: HEY! Don’t be like Jeff Marx! It’s bad enough I heard all that “murderer” crap from him and I don’t need it from you! Besides, she was acquitted of all charges, so get over it!
Everyone’s in the ring to start to this clusterfuck of a match. All four competitors are keeping their eyes on one another as referee Aaron Davies calls for the bell. The first five-minute interval starts.
05:00
Truth Waters: Here we go, ladies and gentlemen! Let the match begin!
Captain Suleimon goes after Teresa Tomas while AgentDash goes after Kip Brown. The Captain flies at Teresa with a Dropkick, but Tomas evades the Dropkick. Dash has better luck with Brown, catching him with a Head Scissors Takedown, sending Brown out of the ring. “The Agent” sets his attentions on Tomas, charging at her, but “THE American Woman” is ready for him, executing a Drop Toehold, following up with an STF! She has the submission maneuver locked in tight, trying to make Dash tap out! Before Dash can tap out, “The Sultan of Smackdown” plants both feet in the side of Tomas’ head. “The Top Rope Temptress” breaks the STF and rolls onto her back, giving Suleimon an opportunity to put Tomas away...
ONE!
TWO!
Kick-out by Teresa Tomas!
04:28
Truth Waters: What action we’re seeing thus far! Captain Suleimon couldn’t put Teresa Tomas with a seated Dropkick, AgentDash took Kip Brown outta the ring with a Head Scissor Takedown! It’s a clusterfuck, a clusterfuck, I tell you~!
George Cassidy: Only a nerd uses a tilde.
Truth Waters: The hell is a tilde?
George Cassidy: That curvy line thingy to empathize words.
Truth Waters: Ah. I learn something new everyday... Wait, DID YOU CALL ME A NERD?!
Kip Brown is seen on the top turnbuckle after Teresa Tomas kicks out of Captain Suleimon’s pinfall attempt. The Captain is on his feet and sets his attention on Brown, who is now flying at him. Brown takes Suleimon down with a Hurricanrana, drilling him on his head and folds his legs underneath his armpits for the pinfall attempt...
ONE!
TWO!
THR---
Kick-out by Captain Suleimon before three.
03:19
Truth Waters: Nice Hurricanrana by Kip Brown!
George Cassidy: Fortunately for Captain Suleimon, he kicked out before the three and is still in this match-up.
Meanwhile, AgentDash has recovered from the effects of Teresa Tomas’ STF. He gets to his feet and picks up Tomas, who is stirring from Captain Suleimon’s seated Dropkick to the side of the head. He gets the “Redneck Princess” to a vertical base, kicks her in the gut and drives her head into the mat with a DDT. Afterwards, he sends her out onto the floor. When she gets to her feet, Dash bounces off the ropes, hurls himself through the middle ropes and catches Tomas with a Suicide Dive!
George Cassidy: Suicide Dive by AgentDash onto Teresa Tomas! Tomas got her clock cleaned!
Truth Waters: Teresa Tomas is clutching her back after that exchange. AgentDash drove all his weight into Tomas, sending her back first into the security wall.
02:45
With both AgentDash and Teresa Tomas briefly incapacitated on the outside, Kip Brown and Captain Suleimon battle it out in the ring. Brown kicks Suleimon in the gut and sends him into the ropes. He goes for a Clothesline, but the Captain goes low, executing a low Dropkick, catching Brown in the right kneecap. KB drops onto the mat, clutching his right knee, unable to defend a reverse spinning roundhouse kick, courtesy of the “Pride of the Ottoman Empire.” Instead of going for the cover, he sends KB onto the outside, quickly following suit. “The Sultan of Smackdown” goes underneath and rummages around, evidently looking for something to use. A few moments later, he pulls out a steel chair and a table.
Truth Waters: What the hell is Captain Suleimon up to? Is he gonna get himself disqualified or what?
George Cassidy: I doubt that, Truth. There’s always a method to the Captain’s madness.
01:52
After nearly braining Kip Brown with a steel chair, Captain Suleimon steps up a table and puts it in the front row, placing Brown on top of it. With chair in hand, the Captain slides back inside the ring, sets up the chair near the ropes and bounces off the opposite ropes. Afterwards, Suleimon jumps onto the chair, jumps on the top rope, springboards and does a Somersault Plancha with no hesitation! Unfortunately for the Captain, he goes through the table, with nobody home on that exchange!
“HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!”
Truth Waters: Triple Jump Somersault Plancha! HE WENT THROUGH THE TABLE! GOOD LORD!
George Cassidy: I think it’s safe to assume that Captain Suleimon has taken himself out of the match after doing such a stupid stunt!
Truth Waters: You can see why Captain Suleimon isn’t a aerial spot wrestler anymore - it’s moves like that that gets him injured!
01:00
As you can see, only sixty seconds remain for the five-minute regular sanctioned portion of this match up. Kip Brown and AgentDash are the only two “healthy” superstars who have made it in the ring. Dash is overzealous when he charges at KB. KB is ready for him and executes a Arn Anderson-style Revolving Spine Buster! He goes for the pin...
ONE!
TWO!
AgentDash kicks out of the pinfall attempt. Kip Brown picks up Dash, about to do another offensive maneuver, but “The Agent” racks Brown’s eyes and does a Step-over Inzuigiri!
DING!
00:30
Truth Waters: Here we go, the first sudden death interval of this match up!
George Cassidy: Immediately, AgentDash goes for the first sudden death pinfall, but couldn’t get the lateral press after his Step-over Inzuigiri!
AgentDash fails to get the one-count sudden death pinfall on Kip Brown. He gets him to his feet, picks up KB and is ready to whip his opponent into the ropes. Kip counters, picks Dash up into an Inverted Argentine Rack Backbreaker, swings him around and plants Dash with an Inverted DDT!
Truth Waters: Virtuoso by Kip Brown! He hit Virtuoso on AgentDash! He’s going for the pinfall attempt!
Kip Brown goes for the lateral press and hooks a leg. Referee Aaron Davies checks AgentDash’s shoulders and slaps the mat for the one-count!
ONE!
AgentDash has been eliminated! DING!
05:00 Truth Waters: AgentDash has been eliminated before the thirty-second sudden death interval was over! This leaves Kip Brown, Captain Suleimon and Teresa Tomas!
George Cassidy: It’s up to Captain Suleimon to pull off a victory in this match up now! But he’s still on the outside writhing in pain!
Teresa Tomas rolls into ring, still feeling the effects of AgentDash’s Suicide Dive. She’s face-to-face with her former Duo partner. They walk towards each other and start to go to town, throwing right hands, forearms, kicks - you name it, they threw it. Being slightly bigger, Kip Brown gets the upper hand by burying a knee into Tomas’ solar plexus then whips her into the ropes. After rebound, KB attempts a Tilt-a-Whirl Backbreaker, but “THE American Woman” counters with a gravity defying Tornado DDT!
Truth Waters: Tornado DDT by Teresa Tomas! What a move on her former Duo partner! She’s going for the cover: One... two... three! No! Kip Brown manages to get the shoulder up!
George Cassidy: Damn I thought she had him!
Truth Waters: Me too, Cass.
03:17
The “Redneck Princess” Teresa Tomas gets to a vertical base, picks up Kip Brown and sends him into the ropes. KB switches gears by jumping onto the top rope, springboards, turns in midair and catches Tomas square in the with a Springboard Dropkick! He goes for the cover...
ONE!
TWO!
NO! Teresa Tomas gets the shoulders up. Kip Brown gets to his feet, picks up “THE American Woman,” goes for a Virtuoso attempt, but “Double T” slips behind her former Duo partner and goes for a Schoolgirl Rollup!
ONE!
TWO!
THR---
Kip Brown manages to kick out!
02:59
Truth Waters: Both Teresa Tomas and Kip Brown are pulling out all the stops to succeed in this match!
George Cassidy: Here comes Captain Suleimon! He’s recovered from his botched aerial spot!
Indeed he has, George Cassidy. Captain Suleimon gingerly slides into the ring, gets behind Teresa Tomas, locks in a double chicken-wing under-hook and executes a Dangerous Tiger Suplex, damn near spiking “The Top Rope Temptress” on her head! The Captain is on his knee, clutching at his back after executing such a high velocity maneuver! Tomas is laying on her front, motionless after receiving the Dangerous Tiger Suplex.
Truth Waters: Good Lord! What a maneuver by Captain Suleimon! Teresa Tomas’ neck has got to be broken!
Captain Suleimon gingerly goes over to Teresa Tomas and does a lateral press, hooking both legs...
ONE!
TWO!
Kip Brown breaks up the count!
01:48
Truth Waters: Kip Brown breaks up the count! I think he forgot that this match is every man and woman for themselves!
George Cassidy: Kip Brown is an idiot! He must’ve thought he was saving his former duo partner! This isn’t a Duo Match, you douche!
Kip Brown picks up Captain Suleimon, about to whip him into the ropes. He is stopped, however, by Teresa. Somehow, she manages to use the top rope as a springboard, flies at KB and connects with a Springboard Dropkick, sending KB face first onto the mat. Afterwards, Teresa grabs his right arm, twists it and turns so he’s on his stomach with his arm twisted. Then she sits down so she's kneeling facing away form Brown, grabs his leg and pulls it back.
Truth Waters: Southern Comfort on Kip Brown! She’s got it locked in tight!
George Cassidy: Kip Brown taps out to the Southern Comfort maneuver, with only sixty seconds remaining for this second five-minute regular sanctioned interval!
Kip Brown has been eliminated!
Truth Waters: It’s down to Teresa Tomas and Captain Suleimon now!
Kip Brown rolls out of the ring, making his way to the back, while Captain Suleimon attacks Teresa Tomas from behind, taking her down with a Bulldog Headlock! He goes for the cover...
ONE!
TWO!
THR---
No! Teresa Tomas gets the shoulder up! Captain Suleimon gets to his feet, runs over to the ropes, springboards off the rope and delivers a Springboard Somersault Leg Drop. He goes for another cover, hooking both legs...
ONE!
TWO!
THR---
NO! Teresa Tomas kicks out again!
DING!
00:30
Truth Waters: You know what that means - it’s time for the second sudden death interval! Captain Suleimon thinks he has won the match, but referee Aaron Davies is telling him otherwise.
George Cassidy: It’s kinda hard to keep your head straight with all these rules.
Captain Suleimon is on his feet now, running over to the ropes, does a springboard off the middle ropes and tries for a Moon Sault, but Teresa Tomas rolls out of the ring, watching the Captain eat nothing but canvas. Quickly getting to her feet, she rolls the “Pride of the Ottoman Empire” onto his back and goes for a pinfall attempt, but the Captain presses her off before referee Aaron Davies can administer the pin. “THE American Woman” picks up Suleimon and tries to whip him into the ropes. The Captain reverses the Irish Whip and sends Double T into the ropes. He catches Tomas with a Tilt-a-Whirl Backbreaker!
DING!
05:00
Truth Waters: What a Tilt-a-Whirl Backbreaker by Captain Suleimon, and we come to an end to our second sudden death interval of the match, and starting the third five-minute regular sanctioned interval.
George Cassidy: Captain Suleimon is going for the pinfall...
ONE!
TWO!
NO! Teresa Tomas shoots her shoulder up! Captain Suleimon takes her down with a Snapmare, kicks her hard in the spine and then does the Turkish Special! (seated opponent flip-over Neck Breaker Curt Hennig style.) He looks down at “The Top Rope Temptress” and then out to the fans, using the cutthroat sign. He goes over to the lower left-hand corner of the ring, climbs the turnbuckle and steadies himself. Instead of doing a Moon Sault, he does a reverse Senton Bomb, going for his Leap Across the Continents, but hits nothing but canvas! He’s flopping around on the mat, bellowing out in pain.
03:47
George Cassidy: Captain Suleimon missed the Leap Across the Continents! He definitely hurt himself on that exchange!
Truth Waters: This maybe the opening Teresa Tomas needs to finish off Captain Suleimon!
After evading the Leap Across the Continents, Teresa Tomas gets to her feet, runs over to Captain Suleimon and locks in Southern Comfort! The Captain is roaring in pain, trying to hang on for dear life! Seconds tick off in this third five-minute regular sanctioned interval. “THE American Woman” is pulling back on Suleimon’s leg, yelling at him to tap out. Unable to hold on any longer, Suleimon taps out.
Captain Suleimon has been eliminated!
Truth Waters: Teresa Tomas wins! She has won this Countdown Trophy Match! Oh my God, what a match!
“Big Guns” by AC/DC starts to play as ring announcer James Brunt announces the winner of the match.
James Brunt The winner... and new Countdown trophy holder... TERESA TOMAS!
Teresa Tomas is on her knees, tears rolling down her face as referee Aaron Davies raises her arm up in victory and passes her the golden hourglass.
Truth Waters: This is the biggest win of her career thus far, ladies and gentlemen. She’ll go on to the first Fresh! after Divide And Conquer and defend the Countdown Trophy! Congratulations, Teresa Tomas, you deserve this victory! Coming up next, Red Rock is defending his Relentless title against Jack Murphy in a Weapons match!
George Cassidy: I can’t believe Captain Suleimon lost to a girl!
Truth Waters: Aw, you’ll get over it, Cass.
FEATURING: MIKE WADE, ADAM DICK, DAVID "PEARL" HARBER
AUTHORS: MIKE AND PIERRE HYDE
The scene switches to backstage. Mike Wade is seen walking along through the corridor. He comes to a door marked "Adam Dick", obviously the dressing room of Adam. He refutes the chance to knock and storms straight in, the camera following him. A buzzing begins in the arena in anticipation of a stand off. Adam is seated in the room as Mike enters, he springs to his feet. Surprisingly he's alone.
Adam Dick: What the fuck do you want?
Mike Wade: You know what it is I want!
Mike reaches down to the bench that Adam was sitting on and lifts up the Transatlantic title.
Mike Wade: It's always been this.
Adam snatches straight from Mike’s hands.
Adam Dick: This is something you have to earn, peanut-brain. You never quite could earn the big one could you Mike?
Mike Wade: You're right. I guess I couldn't. I only ever did get that one chance, one bad mistake will cost you a match. But I noticed you were nowhere to be seen that night, after I helped you train for your first Transatlantic match.
Adam Dick: What would it have mattered if I did? You'll never be at this level Mike, maybe you should go ask Red Rock for a shot at the Relentless title again, or maybe ask Pearl to bring back the Livewire belt.
Mike Wade: It's funny you should mention Pearl because I was just going to tell him about my challenge to you, for TONIGHT!!
Adam Dick: Tonight?
Adam backs off.
Mike Wade: There's a problem all of a sudden?
Adam Dick: No problem. I'll fight you anytime you want. It's just the title of course can't be on the line.
Mike Wade: I see, I was wondering why you grew a set of balls all of a sudden.
Adam Dick: That's not what your mother said last night.
Mike Wade: You're not enticing me to fuck you up anymore then I already will. Don't forget your mind games are my mind games, they don't work on me.
Adam thinks; he knows Mike is right.
Adam Dick: PEARL!!!! Pearl!!!
Like a spoilt child calling for his Mommy Adam yells for Pearl to solve this. Mike joins him.
Mike Wade: PEARL!!! PEARL!!!
Pearl seemingly responds to the call as he enters the dressing room too.
Pearl: What the hell are you two doing?
Adam Dick: This idiot comes in here and...
Mike Wade: I want to challenge, HIM, for his title here tonight! This is my retiring wish Pearl, I want this guy once and for all one on one.
Pearl pauses. His eyes light up knowing such an impromptu main event would be HUGE. Then he realises what Wade said.
Pearl: You’re RETIRING, Mike?!
Wade looks confused.
Mike Wade: But you knew that...
Pearl: Well, yeah... but no one else did.
Mike Wade: Oh right.
Wade looks into the camera.
Mike Wade: I'm retiring tonight.
Then he swallows, and sniffs in a satisfied manner, and looks at Pearl.
Mike Wade: So how about it? Pearl: The Unfuckables finally against each other? Oh ho...
Adam Dick: But Garbage Bag Johnny's the number 1 contender!
Adam thought of his way out.
Mike Wade: Feck that. He's #1 contender at Coast To Coast not tonight. He fights whoever the champion is.
Adam Dick: Nope. He's my number 1 contender - it wouldn't be fair on him.
Mike Wade: That's bullshit Pearl, he's backing out of the match!
Pearl: He's right Mike.
Adam Dick: Ha ha. I was always the smarter one, you were just my sidekick.
Mike Wade: Shut up you idiot I’m trying to think. Pearl, what if I beat GBJ tonight? That’s how you gain your Claim To The Throne, right? Can I have the match then?
Adam Dick: NO!!
Pearl: (eyes gleaming) Of course! I don't see why not.
Adam Dick: NO!!!
Mike Wade: See you later Facey, shine that belt up real nice. It'll make a great retirement gift! And here's me thinking you didn't care anymore...
Red Rock (c) vs Jack Murphy
STIPULATION: WEAPONS
REFEREE: LARS LARSSON
AUTHOR: LARA CLARKE
Truth Waters: What an interesting show so far, Cassidy.
George Cassidy: Uh-huh…
Truth Waters: What’s with the long face? Estelle reject you again?
George Cassidy: Huh, that bitch ain’t worth my time.
Truth Waters: Good, cause you’re married.
George Cassidy: What, STILL?!
Truth Waters: Now cop on, because we have a show to do.
Cassidy turns around, fixing his luxurious suit coat as the pyros explode followed with the piercing electric guitar for “Burn” by Throwdown. The fans all rise, ecstatic with the approach of ‘The Bull’ Jack Murphy. Murphy saunters out to the staging area, his mind focused and his eyes void of any emotion.
Truth Waters: This will be a great match. The last time we saw a Weapons match, it was between Chainz and O’Reilly. A bitter rivalry; this time, it seems we are in for a treat.
George Cassidy: That match was far superior to this, take for instance Michael Sloan. He is, in fact, a legend of this company…
Truth Waters: He’s a sick maniac.
James Brunt: The following is a Weapons match for the AWC Relentless championship! Introducing first, the challenger, from Kildare, Ireland, weighing in at 278 pounds, The Bull, JACK MURPHY!
The fans cheer to the announcement of Jack Murphy’s approach. Murphy slides casually into the ring, his mind seemingly elsewhere as looks around the hundreds of fans, each with a different t-shirt and logo to their name, their eyes yearning for a bloody and gruelling battle.
The arena falls deadly silent as they await the arrival of Red Rock. Murphy begins to flex his muscles, his eyes gazing toward the stage with confusion.
Truth Waters: Is Red Rock aware he’s in a match?
George Cassidy: Probably chicken!!!
“Blame Thrower” by Reuben electrifies the PA sound system as the fans rise to an elevation as the pyro’s shoot off the stage.
Truth Waters: He’s been on a roll as of late, it’ll be a great match! Seven consecutive victories...
George Cassidy: Sure, but come on, Murphy will crush Rock.
Truth Waters: Geez, Cassidy, have some faith in our Relentless champion!
The commentators lay their gazes toward the entrance, but Red Rock has yet to move, Murphy moves toward the front of the ring. Slowly, quietly, and without the element of surprise, Red Rock emerges carrying a trolley filled with weapons.
George Cassidy: Christmas has come early.
”RED ROCK! RED ROCK!”
The fans all chant in unison as he smiles, walking with the trolley, Murphy smiles and waits in the corner of the ring.
James Brunt: And his opponent, from Aldershot, England, weighing in at 195 pounds, the AWC Relentless champion... RED ROCK!
George Cassidy: Talk about weight difference, see Truth, Murphy will crush him.
Truth Waters: Always the pessimistic type.
George Cassidy: Glass half empty, Truth.
Red Rock halts the trolley by the ring steps and begins chucking each item into the ring – trash can lid, trash can, kendo stick, bowling ball, baseball bat – the list continues, Murphy remains adamant as he watches Red Rock from inside the ring. Brunt begins to move with a solemn pace toward the ropes as Red Rock slides in, brandishing some numb-chucks.
The Anti Hero, Red Rock, gathers his momentum as he approaches the centre of the ring, offering his hand to Jack Murphy. Murphy reciprocates the hand shake and the bell rings. Each man begins to circle the other, eyes remaining focused on the array of items surrounding each other.
Murphy charges and Red Rock ducks, gripping onto Murphy’s tights, Red Rock pulls a simple schoolboy and Lars Larsson hits the mat.
ONE!
Murphy kicks out and the quick paced Red Rock is once more on the offensive, grappling Murphy’s hair, Red Rock tries for a DDT, but Murphy’s overwhelming strength holds Red Rock in a suplex formation, the two topple over, Red Rock’s back colliding with the trash can.
OUCH
The crowd yell as the camera zooms in on Red Rock’s face, a slight hint of pain squinting through his eyes as he gazes around the ring, holding his back. Murphy looks toward the dented trash can and lifts the lid. He awaits, his knees bent, ready to charge.
George Cassidy: Here we go, see, simplicity.
Murphy charges, the bin lid raised in his hands towards the now standing Red Rock. In a last quick approach, Red Rock launches his body into a dropkick, his feet connecting with the bin lid. Murphy stumbles backwards, the bin lid connecting with his face, but not enough to take him down. Red Rock is up and propels himself off the ropes he charges, arms outstretched.
BAM
Red Rock and Murphy collide over the rope to the mats below, clothesline from Red Rock. Murphy’s body rolls right into the commentators table. The fans are on their feet, enjoying the quick paced momentum of Red Rock and Murphy.
Truth Waters: Excellent counter by Red Rock. What was that Cassidy? Oh yeah, simplicity!
George Cassidy: He got lucky, Truth.
Red Rock is up and rooting around the ring, his hands grip a metallic object and he yanks, a ladder emerges from under the ring, Red Rock, clearly not happy with the selection drops it and turns to see Murphy, now rising. Murphy is up and taking steady breaths as he listens to the fans around him.
”LET’S GO MURPHY! LET’S GO MURPHY!”
Red Rock smiles and adheres to the chants of his own fans he mounts the side of the ring and runs, launching his body toward Murphy. Murphy grips Red Rock’s body, the two stumbling, but Murphy holds strong, grappling Red Rock in a tight bear hug, he shifts his weight and turns, planting Red Rock through the commentators table.
”HOLY SHIT!”
The fans chant to the scenes of displeasure for Truth and Cassidy who have now lost their video coverage. Murphy stands up and stumbles backwards, his back hitting the ring.
Lars Larsson looks on shocked by the carnage of the match already. He slides out to check on Red Rock. The fans are on their feet once more, each chant outweighing the other.
”MURPHY!”
“RED ROCK!”
“MUPRHY!”
“RED ROCK!”
Murphy slides into the ring, but as his back is turned, Red Rock shoots up, completely unfazed by his recent predicament charges with a spear to Murphy’s lower back. Murphy reels in pain as Red Rock grips the apron and continues ramming Murphy’s back, trying to form a weak spot.
George Cassidy: I think Red Rock needs to take a urine sample.
Truth Waters: Cassidy, Red Rock is running on adrenaline, the kids talented.
George Cassidy: The speed at which he got up. Granted Murphy’s ancient, but the kid flew.
Truth Waters: Maybe a bit too much Fanta!!
Murphy spins his elbow and it connects to the side of Red Rock’s face. Murphy now agitated and sore, grips the back of Red Rock’s head, he charges, dragging Red Rock with him and connects Red Rock’s face with the ring post. Blood spatters from Red Rock’s nose as Murphy plants Red Rock’s face with the ring post once more.
Lars Larsson breaks it up and orders Murphy into the ring; Murphy follows his orders and slides into the ring. Red Rock looks bleary eyed toward the fans surrounding him, he waddles sideways for a second, regaining his momentum and slides into the ring, but Murphy is up and lunges his foot into Red Rock’s abdomen, the Antihero spews air as he becomes winded as Murphy’s large boot connects again.
Truth Waters: Vicious!
Murphy rolls Red Rock over and tries for a quick pin.
ONE!
TWO!
Red Rock kicks out and rolls himself away from Murphy, turning his back to the referee, Red Rock leans out of the ring and takes hold of the bowling ball. Murphy listens to Lars Larsson speaking and ignores his words of caution, gripping Red Rock’s hair, Murphy pulls him up. Red Rock shifts his weight and swings blindly with the bowling ball, the silver coloured ball connects violently with Murphy’s face, blood splatters onto the ball as Murphy falls over, gripping chin and nose he yells in pain.
”HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!”
Red Rock stumbles, his fingers dropping out of the bowling ball’s holes.
George Cassidy: Now that was good.
Truth Waters: That should be illegal, it’s a bowling ball!
George Cassidy: For a minute there, you enjoyed it!!!
Red Rock slides to his feet and grips Murphy’s leg, pulling Murphy into a pin. Lars Larsson has no choice but to count.
ONE!
TWO!
THR---
Murphy kicks out and spits some blood out as he pushes Red Rock off of him. Red Rock now looking with a clear vision grips the corner of the table and stands it against the turnbuckle, waiting for Murphy to stand. Murphy rises to his feet, his tongue licking his burst lip. Angered, he turns sharply but becomes winded as Red Rock delivers a sharp toe-kick to Murphy’s abdomen.
Truth Waters: This could be a turning point for Red Rock. He has after all been on a roll as of late.
George Cassidy: Please, Truth, spare the hopes and face the facts.
Red Rock grips Murphy’s wrists and attempts to Irish Whip him into the table, but Murphy counters, his agility and power forcing Red Rock against the ropes and directly into Murphy’s boot. Red Rock coils on impact and takes a second to catch his breath. Murphy has other things on his mind and lifts Red Rock into a suplex formation, but instead switches to a piledriver. The fans go crazy with the realisation of what was happening.
George Cassidy: See that, told you, it’s all over now.
Murphy plants the Fall From Grace with pristine agility. Red Rock falls to the mat, his arms and legs spread eagled. Murphy mounts Red Rock for the pin.
ONE!
TWO!
THR---
Red Rock kicks out, just in the nick of time, the fans are ecstatic. The chants for Red Rock and Murphy elevating with each punch, kick and bloodied weapon. Red Rock shakes off the cobwebs and looks up to see a shocked and tired Murphy.
George Cassidy: He… But… He…
Truth Waters: Red Rock kicked out of the Fall From Grace.
George Cassidy: Impossible! Improbable! Seriously he’s on steroids… Telling you.
Truth Waters: Murphy seems to be just as shocked, Cassidy! But Red Rock has proven time and time again that he has to be taken seriously!
Murphy kneels into a standing position, shock written all over his blood covered face as he looks toward Red Rock, who has now joined the land of the living and grapples onto the ropes for support.
Both men look at one another, Red Rock begins to notice the exhaustion in Murphy and plays to its advantage as he begins to bounce off the ropes, encouraging the crowd.
George Cassidy: Now what is he doing? I feel like I’m babysitting at Disneyland.
Red Rock turns sharply and punches Murphy with a swift right; Murphy blocks the left and delivers his own punch, both men continuing back and forth, unwilling to stand down. The fans backing either man, the chants nauseating to the ears of Waters and Cassidy who sit ideally by and watch the chaos unfold.
Murphy grips Red Rock’s hair and slams his knee into Red Rock’s face, more blood cascades down Red Rock’s nose and onto Murphy’s knee pads. Red Rock recoils and rakes Murphy’s eyes.
Truth Waters: Quick retaliation from Red Rock.
Murphy squints to maintain his blurred vision, he swings right and left, but connects with the air. Red Rock is now by the ringside, this time however, he does not turn away the ladder - he pulls it out and begins to stand it up. The fans are curious and silence falls onto the arena.
Murphy’s vision returns and he sees Red Rock outside the ring, mounting a steady stance, Murphy charges and slides, hitting a baseball slide on Red Rock. Red Rock falls and connects with the rubble of the commentator’s destroyed table. Murphy slides out of the ring and marches toward Red Rock; Red Rock begins kicking ferociously; beginning with Murphy’s lower legs, Red Rock begins to slide and kick. Murphy steps back and runs for the ring, sliding in and ignoring Larsson’s count.
George Cassidy: Was that the Funstigator?
Truth Waters: No idea! Such a quick paced match. Neither man willing to stand down.
George Cassidy: Only a matter of time before I am right, Truth.
Red Rock rises, shaking down dust from his attire he gazes toward the ring, both men look toward the other. Blood dripping from their faces, fans chanting around them, but everything seems to become slow and inexorable for Red Rock who begins to walk slowly toward the ring, his hand gripping a handle of a kendo stick.
Murphy, unaware that Red Rock has a kendo stick, takes charge once again and slides toward Red Rock, his legs slightly spread. Red Rock raises the kendo stick and connects it with Murphy’s groin region.
OWWWWWW
The crowd reel in pain with Murphy, who screams, and rolls. Piece of his tights lay pinched between the thin strips of bamboo. Red Rock cringes as he looks toward Murphy, his hands cupped around his groin.
Truth Waters: Awe, even I felt that.
George Cassidy: Kendo Stick to Murphy’s jewels!
Red Rock slides into the ring and waits for a very flustered Murphy to rise. Murphy is up, but limping with his face cringed in pain, he steps sideways and watches the fans all reel and chant. Red Rock now gripping the kendo stick with more reverence slices the air and connects with Murphy’s forehead.
Murphy stares blankly for a moment until he falls backwards. Red Rock seeing a window of opportunity looks toward the standing ladder. He runs toward the ring and slides out. The fans are in wonder, Larsson checks on the wound now forming on Murphy’s head. Red Rock begins to climb the ladder, staring bleakly toward Murphy, who lies motionless in the centre of the ring.
Truth Waters: Surely he wouldn’t attempt…
Red Rock stands his body with grace at the top of the ladder and takes a deep breath. He lunges with his arms above his head, twisting his body in mid air he lands perfectly on Murphy with a body splash. The fans are all on their feet now, all chanting Red Rock.
George Cassidy: Christ, the kid’s nuts!
Truth Waters: Body Splash from the top of a ladder, his ribs are probably broken!
Red Rock doesn’t move, he remains and manages to grip Murphy’s knee pad pulling Murphy into a pin.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
James Brunt stands up from the small fold out chair, still in shock, takes hold of his microphone.
James Brunt:The winner, and still AWC Relentless champion... Red Rock…
George Cassidy: I… What…
Truth Waters: Once more Red Rock wins! This winning streak is phenomenal. Eight now! The Relentless champion taking charge.
George Cassidy: Sorry, what?
Red Rock slides off of Murphy and Larsson rises Red Rock’s hand, the fans all cheering in unison for both men, the match proving to be a success. Red Rock’s music hits and he slides out of the ring, clutching his ribs.
Murphy awakens and shakes his head, completely confused over his loss.
George Cassidy: Old age might be getting to him! He’s no bright young thing at 38.
Cassidy’s comment goes unheard as the fans cheer Murphy for being a good sport, Murphy slides out of the ring, wiping the sweat from his forehead.
Truth Waters: Excellent match. This pay-per-view is proving to be a phenomenal success.
FEATURING: DAVID "PEARL" HARBER
AUTHOR: ???
David “Pearl” Harber strode around the backstage area looking highly pleased with himself: the night was going well.
The piercing shrill of his cellular phone shattered whatever sense of occasion that was slowly building.
The caller ID:
The Broker.
Pearl: Did the plan work?
…
Pearl: Fantastic! No one else has gone for that option right?
…
Pearl: That’s more like it…
…
Pearl: Oh those…? Never mind, you’ll figure it out soon enough.
…
Pearl: I’ll contact you again soon. Take it easy.
…
Pearl: All will be revealed soon enough.
And with that… the phone was whipped back into his pocket. With something up his sleeve, Pearl walked off into the distance. A spring in his step.
Sudden-Death Invitational Alliance Rumble
STIPULATION: SUDDEN-DEATH ELIMINATION
REFEREE: RICHIE TRAVIS
AUTHORS: PIERRE HYDE AND ???
James Brunt: The following match is the Sudden-Death Invitational Alliance Rumble, for the vacant AWC Alliance championship!
George Cassidy: Welcome back everybody, to cluster central. This match promises to be one small step for Pearl... one giant mess for AWC.
The video screen now reads a static 00:30 as we await the first entrants.
Truth Waters: The invitation has been out since Fresh! for anybody and everybody to enter this match. It’s not just for permanent duos; anyone can team up for the night to take their sudden-death shot at the belts.
James Brunt stands in the ring, the Alliance title belts over each shoulder as he waits for music to give him his cue.
George Cassidy: All pins for one count only... a new duo out every thirty seconds; but how many do we really have?
Truth Waters: It looks like we’ve lost our planned outside representation; we saw Harber on the phone earlier on and our supposed “secret” delegation from HSW hasn’t shown up, which might throw a few plans.
George Cassidy: I hold out hope for Clyde Walkins and James Farwell! Those Forsaken goofs would get their asses handed to them by the Martin brothers.
Truth Waters: The Furious Fists Of God are clear favourites for the championship tonight... but could there perhaps be an outside bet on The New Black? They defeated Singleton & Slade pretty conclusively on Fresh!burst, and Lacuna Debris in particular has her own legacy...
George Cassidy: Don’t rule out a one-off team taking it! Imagine if Adam Dick and Ellis Nash were to team up, they’d be unstoppable...
Truth Waters: Or Red Rock with Garbage Bag Johnny – “The Kings Of The Win Streak”!
George Cassidy: Truth, your duo names utterly suck.
Truth Waters: Red Rock’s a possibility, though; he’s always expressed an interest in tagging up, and now with Paddy O’Shea having made his sensational return to AWC – well, those two were always tight...
George Cassidy: Except Red Rock just went through hell miraculously defending his Relentless title against Jack Murphy---
Truth Waters: And making it a streak of EIGHT in the process! He’s on a fantastic run---
George Cassidy: ---of incredible luck.
At last, “We Going To Be Alright” by 112 starts to play, indicating that Pleasure And Pain are to be the duo starting us off tonight.
Truth Waters: Sorry for the delay, y’all – it seems we were expecting the HSW duo to actually be first out, so they’ve had to do some shifting around and all...
George Cassidy: Instead we have to sit through the Russells’ redundance for an extra 30 seconds.
Tiara Belle Russell leads her husband Wayne through the curtain, to a respectable cheer from some of the fans nearer to the entrance-way. Wayne grins and gives a thumbs-up to the fans; Tiara Belle just heads for the ring, not wanting to lose her concentration.
James Brunt: Introducing our first duo, both from Newton, Massachusetts, at a combined weight of 451 pounds... Wayne and Tiara Belle Russell... PLEASURE AND PAIN!
Tiara Belle Russell comes up the ring steps and waits for Wayne, who goes straight past her and through the ropes. Looking a little affronted, Tiara says something to him; Wayne quickly moves back to hold up the top rope for her to step under but it’s too late, the damage is done.
Truth Waters: Tiara Belle doesn’t look too happy with Wayne Russell, going straight past her and entering the ring first!
George Cassidy: Seriously, who cares?
The bell rings.
George Cassidy: What? But they’ve got no opponents!
The clock begins to count down from 30 seconds as the crowd begin chanting for their favourite duos and anticipated wrestler pair-ups.
Truth Waters: Cassidy, it looks like each other is opponent enough for Pleasure And Pain!
As Tiara Belle Russell places her hands on her hips and asks the referee why they’ve got to just wait out here – it’s ruining their mental preparations, or something – Wayne Russell steps up and puts a supportive arm around her shoulders. Tiara shrugs him off. Richie Travis gives an “I don’t care” shake of the shoulder and steps back, realigning the needless sunglasses he wears. Tiara Belle turns and begins a heated exchange with Wayne.
”BORING! BORING! BORING!”
George Cassidy: I cannot believe we’re having to sit through Pleasure And Pain’s marital problems.
”FUR-IOUS FISTS! FUR-IOUS FISTS!”
”DARCY AND AIMZ! DARCY AND AIMZ!”
”EMERALD ISLE! EMERALD ISLE!”
Truth Waters: I'm picking up on a crowd chant for Emerald Isle; Cassidy, you don’t think Paddy O’Shea might have brought Crimson O’Malec or The Farmer along with him tonight...?
George Cassidy: God, I certainly hope not. I'm up to here with Irishmen.
Truth Waters: It’d certainly perk up this crowd, at least.
Still with fifteen seconds on the clock, Richie Travis turns and looks at the crowd, resorting to hottie-spotting. He has barely issued a half-dozen toothy smiles before, ten seconds early, The New Black’s entrance music begins.
Truth Waters: They’re sick of waiting! Here come Sorrow and Debris!
Some old-timers in the crowd rise to give a standing ovation to Angelus Sorrow and Lacuna Debris, legends in some pockets of the wrestling world, particularly Lacuna.
George Cassidy: Sorrow’s not gonna go down easy tonight. But Debris proved this past Sunday that she’s quite capable of handling herself too.
Truth Waters: Capable? My black ass; she’s more than capable! I only gotta mention her past achie---
George Cassidy: Please, don’t. Meaningless acronyms make me nauseous.
James Brunt: Introducing our second duo, both from Derbyshire, England, at a combined weight of 460 pounds... “Miss England” Lacuna Debris and Angelus Sorrow... THE NEW BLACK!
Truth Waters: Debris looks to have come down in the world a little; you might remember her as an idle rich-bitch type... Devries looks fresh outta being planted in a load of her own Debris!
George Cassidy: Er, quite.
Debris breaks into a run halfway down the ramp; Sorrow reaches out an arm but meets thin air as his partner is already past him and on her way, eyes gleaming. “Ambulance vs Ambulance” abruptly cuts as Debris slides into the ring and begins brawling with her counterpart Tiara Belle, just as a new countdown begins.
Truth Waters: Here we go!
George Cassidy: Sorrow is less than happy about Lacuna Debris racing into the ring to get things started!
Truth Waters: Damn straight Cassidy; these sudden-death falls can happen so fast!
Wayne Russell has a bit more class than that though, standing off and watching keenly as his wife struggles with Debris rather than gang up on the proud lady. Debris switches their grapple around, planting TBR right back against the ropes before delivering a left legged high kick; Richie Travis makes as if to intervene but then his attention is diverted by the lumbering entry into the ring of Lacuna’s partner.
George Cassidy: And here is Angelus Sorrow! Easily parries the right arm from Wayne Russell and clocks him with an immense forearm! Russell is flat-out and Sorrow pulls him away from the ropes...
Escaping under Debris’s arm, Tiara Belle sacrifices the chance to turn things around on her end of the fight to instead launch herself at Sorrow from behind before he can attempt a pin. She jumps up on 6’8” man’s back, in some vague semblance of a sleeper hold; Sorrow simply waits patiently, his telepathic connection with Debris calling for a dropkick from Miss England to eliminate the slight inconvenience that is Tiara Belle Russell. Lacuna duly delivers, before going straight into a pinch neckbreaker on the female half of Pleasure And Pain. Wayne begins to struggle to his feet but Sorrow plants a powerful boot in his chest, forcing him back down. Angelus keeps his boot there and looks pointedly at Travis; the referee is already on his way down.
ONE!
Truth Waters: P&P sent packing!
00:09
George Cassidy: There’s just time for The New Black to regroup before the next duo comes out.
Truth Waters: That is, if Pleasure And Pain will let them!
While Wayne Russell appears happy to roll out of the ring, Tiara Belle is back on her feet and catches Debris unawares with a clothesline. Richie Travis calmly ushers her away, but Tiara Belle gives him a shove!
Truth Waters: Travis ain’t playing games honey! Tiara Belle has gotta go!
Russell (fem.) continues her protest; in the end Sorrow, with a resigned look on his face, scoops her up in a fireman’s carry and begins to carry her towards the corner of the ring, ignoring Tiara’s kicking and screaming. As he does this, “Raining Blood” by Slayer starts up.
George Cassidy: Singleton & Slade next out. Shaping up for a repeat of the Fresh!burst match.
The ex-4WW duo make their way out, flanked by manager The Hunter and the sidekick whose name I can’t quite remember.
James Brunt: Introducing our third duo, being accompanied to the ring by The Hunter, both from Oakland, California, at a combined weight of 454 pounds... SHAWN SINGLETON AND RUSTIN SLADE!
George Cassidy: Hmph. Looks like Brunty can’t remember the name of that fourth guy either.
Truth Waters: If Debris and Sorrow can continue along the same lines and dispatch of the guys from Unnatural Selection quickly, it might not matter a hell of a lot!
Angelus Sorrow dumps Tiara Belle, not carefully but not brutally, onto the ring steps just as a perfectly coordinated Singleton & Slade burst into the ring. Slade grabs Debris and turns her around; Singleton knees her in the gut and brings her up into the air as Slade positions himself opposite.
George Cassidy: Already looking for a double powerbomb!
But Sorrow charges over like a steam train, first bull-charging through Slade with ferocity before clasping his arms around Sorrow’s elevated waist. Singleton raises a leg to kick Sorrow blind, but Sorrow barely notices the blow as he drives his knee forward into Shawn Singleton’s gut. The Tactical Assassin doubles up as Angelus lowers Debris safely to the mat. She turns away, a little hurt that she needed his help.
Truth Waters: It’s Angelus Sorrow to the rescue again!
00:20
Debris immediately reapplies herself, dropkicking Singleton’s head as he remains in a hands-and-knees position. He crumples to the canvas; Debris springboards off the second rope and lands a flying backwards elbow drop, to applause from the fans.
George Cassidy: Lacuna Debris with some nice agility.
Truth Waters: Who’s out next, Cassidy? Any ideas?
George Cassidy: Jesus Christ.
Truth Waters: Oh forget it; only trying to make conversation---
George Cassidy: No, really: Jesus Christ. He’s got a great gimmick, y’know.
Rustin Slade gets up just as Sorrow comes over. An attempted punch by the heavy competitor is dodged, and Slade grabs the arm while moving into a modified drop toe hold to bring Sorrow crashing to the mat.
Truth Waters: What is it?
George Cassidy: Son of God.
Truth Waters: Well Hoyt Williams has that one covered already! That’s gimmick infringement! BAH GAWD, you better tell this “Jesus” guy that Hoyt’s gonna bring the wrath of God upon him!
Debris gives up on hooking Singleton’s leg to instead spring over to the Slade/Sorrow situation and spinning-heel-kick Rustin in the back of the head before he can attempt to score a fall on Angelus. As she drops to the canvas, Sorrow pulls himself to his feet with the use of the ropes and “Our Revolution” by Halifax starts up. The fans in the MTS Centre begin to cheer.
George Cassidy: What in God’s name...
Truth Waters: That’s Kris Krimzon’s music! Looks like we have a one-off duo for ya!
But no figures appear at the curtain as the music continues. While Shawn Singleton attempts to confront Lacuna Debris and finds himself between her and her partner, James Brunt tries to push things along by beginning the introduction.
James Brunt: Introducing our fourth duo, from St. Louis, Missouri and Las Vegas, Nevada respectively...
Brunt pauses, looking along the ramp. Nothing.
James Brunt: At a combined weight of 450 pounds...
Still nothing. The music blares on. Sorrow corners Singleton in the turnbuckle and almost reluctantly, gets on all fours facing away from him. Debris backs up.
James Brunt: Kris Krimzon and---
Brunt stops, seeing a startled Kris Krimzon suddenly burst through the curtain as if pushed. He immediately turns right around and begins to yell through the curtain at someone unseen. Krimzon’s face looks flushed.
Truth Waters: Kris Krimzon is right here in front of us, but there’s no sign of his partner!
George Cassidy: That must be whoever he’s shouting at, Truth.
Krimzon becomes vaguely aware of his surroundings and turns slowly around, his mouth in a surprised “o”. Then he raises his outstretched hand up perpendicular to his chest, makes a circle with the thumb and forefinger of his other hand, and pushes them together.
George Cassidy: Is that... a signal?
Debris runs up, bends, pushes her arms off Sorrow’s shoulders, flips through the air – and hits the turnbuckle, hard, inverted, as Singleton spins out of the way. But nobody really notices.
Truth Waters: It looks kinda like a nine... or a backwards “p”, or even a lower-case “g”, maybe...
George Cassidy: What is that klutz doing?
Slade hurtles over to Angelus Sorrow and gets in a kick to the abdomen before the big man can react. And then Krimzon turns and dashes back through the curtain. Moments later, the music disappears. A new countdown begins.
Truth Waters: We got a no-show from our fourth duo, Cassidy! Who could Krimzon’s partner have been?
George Cassidy: Someone from Las Vegas, I’d wager. Considering that’s what Brunty said.
Slade turns and looks for a neckbreaker; he can barely reach Sorrow’s neck. Angelus wraps his enormous arms around Rustin’s trunk from behind and delivers a monumental atomic drop.
Truth Waters: Oh, what an atomic drop!
George Cassidy: That must have felt kind of like what Steven Smith dreams of. Only way, way preferable.
Truth Waters: I wouldn’t call an Angelus Sorrow atomic drop preferable to a whole lot, Cassidy---
George Cassidy: You heard it here first! Truth’s a homo! It’s the Truth; ahaha...
Sorrow stoops to make the lateral press, but before Travis can even count one Shawn Singleton grabs Sorrow in a half nelson and wrestles him to the mat. He presses Sorrow’s shoulders down and Travis’ arm nearly hits the mat before Sorrow throws the Tactical Assassin bodily away. He begins to sit up, as partner Debris does the same. Slade is still kicking his legs and clasping his coccyx.
Truth Waters: Singleton nearly had Sorrow there.
George Cassidy: Anything can happen under these sudden-death rules... they ruin the spirit of the game.
Truth Waters: They also make it a load more exciting!
00:17
Sorrow rises, and offers his great hand to Lacuna. After a moment’s hesitation, she takes it, and is pulled to her feet as gently as the giant can muster. Then they’re both punished for their casual outlook as Shawn Singleton delivers a double clothesline. Debris falls straight to the mat. Sorrow is barely fazed, and clasps Singleton’s arm to his chest, driving his elbow against the shoulder joint. Singleton yells in pain. Sorrow then turns him away from the turnbuckle and swivels into a single-arm DDT to land right on top of Rustin Slade!
George Cassidy: Angelus stacking up the bodies!
Turning his attentions to Lacuna, Sorrow squats down to see to her; she waves an impatient hand for him to instead get on with the match. Vaguely aware that there are pins to be made, Sorrow separates the wreckage and hooks Singleton’s leg.
ONE!
Truth Waters: New Black march on! But Sorrow exhibiting almost TOO much concern for Lacuna Debris there!
Breaking the sorrowful moment with a piercing chord sent down by the Lord himself, ‘Hallelujah’ blasts over the announcement system signalling the arrival of The Furious Fists of God!
Truth Waters: Here come the God Squad of Pain!
James Brunt: Introducing our fif--- fourth duo, both from Boston, Massachusetts, at a combined weight of 607 pounds, Tim Martin, Liam Martin, The Furious Fists of God!
Sprinting down the runway both Liam and Tim stop before entering the ring shooting one another a look of malign intent.
Truth Waters: Looks like they’re talking tic-tacs…
George Cassidy: Tic tacs? The minty mint that’s only one calorie?
Truth Waters: No… tictacs… a game plan, that kinda thing.
George Cassidy: Tactics?
Truth Waters: That’s what I said foo’.
Liam points at Angelus Sorrow shouting abuse making the big man come forward to the ropes to take a swipe at him. A well deployed diversion tactic… Tim Martin slides in the ring from behind and drops Lacuna Debris with a running forearm smash to the back of the skull. Angelus Sorrow spins round looking aggrieved and begins to charge at Tim. Ducking a clothesline attempt, Angelus Sorrow continues his momentum into the ropes.
George Cassidy: Here comes Liam to join the party.
Liam slides in under the bottom rope and meets Angelus Sorrow with a double shoulder tackle combining with his brother to send the big man to the ground. Wasting no time Tim begins to lay the boots into Angelus, stomping any part that dare move. Liam bounces off the ropes before landing a measured knee to the head.
00:25
Truth Waters: See, this is the tic-tac I was speaking of: take the big man down.
Lacuna Debris groggily claws her way to her feet and charges at Liam Martin ducking a clothesline attempt, she lands a swift stiff kick to the gut, doubling Liam over. She runs to the ropes springboarding back from the top rope with a jumping spinning sidekick, connecting to the temple of Liam Martin. Tim spins to see his brother slumped on the canvas and launches a wild right hand toward Debris. Lacuna is too sharp, cartwheeling away from the attempted strike and landing a solid heel to the head of Tim.
Truth Waters: Damn… she’s like a little cat or something… of that nature…
Tim turns slowly gripping the side of his head and is met by a perfectly executed running DDT – planting Tim’s skull into the middle of the canvas. Lacuna realising her need to keep this high octane offence up, bounces toward the ropes… only to be met by a stiff knee to the spine. Tim applies an inverted facelock onto Lacuna, before flipping her up onto his shoulder and desecrating her with a running powerslam.
Truth Waters: Cassidy my boy…
George Cassidy: What a show of raw power by Tim Martin.
00:12
Tim helps Liam to his feet as both look to Lacuna Debris… Angelus Sorrow rises to his feet behind The Furious Fist of God and taps Liam on the shoulder connecting with a big boot as he turns. Tim quickly turns and attempts a double legged pick up on Angelus. He only manages to drive him into the ropes but a few solid shoulder shots to the midsection absolve some of the struggle.
George Cassidy: The big man’s going over!
Liam joins in, picking the other leg of Angelus up in an attempt to eliminate him from the contest. Sorrow is sending wild fists here there and everywhere in an attempt to push the Furious Fists from off of him. Bouncing back into the ropes he musters the last vestiges of strength…
Truth Waters: Lacuna Debris… what the hell?
Debris is somehow on her feet and sprinting at the Martin’s leaping in the air with a split legged dropkick attempt. Angelus Sorrow explodes with a hellacious double clothesline! Debris dropkicks the Martin’s in the back of the knees as Angelus Sorrow takes their heads off of their shoulders sending them crashing to the canvas.
George Cassidy: Now, I’m not a teacher… but that certainly had to hurt.
Truth Waters: Why a teacher?
George Cassidy: I’m no fireman… but that’s what I’d be.
Truth Waters: Okay… time for a new duo!
There is no theme music as Aimz and Darcy Crisis make there way from the back: there is seemingly mixed opinions on the two as abuse is hurled in Aimz’ direction, and where the general consensus of fans are cheering for Crisis.
George Cassidy: What are they doing out here?!
Truth Waters: Looks like Crisis and Aimz are entering the Rumble! This could be a pretty deadly duo!
James Brunt looks caught off guard.
James Brunt: Uhm… Aimz and Darcy Crisis… weighing in at… uhm…
Truth Waters: I don’t think they told James Brunt about it!
Wasting no time Aimz soars to the top rope and launches a cross body plancha onto Angelus Sorrow…
ON-
Truth Waters: Hell no Aimz! Powered out by the big man.
Aimz is launched into flight as Angelus Sorrow powers through the pin attempt. Tim and Liam Martin slowly get to their feet and yank Darcy Crisis in from the apron. Tim lands some solid shots to the body of Crisis before Aimz running up the nearest turnbuckle lands a jaw dropping twisting senton, crashing straight into Martin brothers. Lacuna Debris dives on Aimz for a pin attempt, but it’s not enough as Aimz counters by rolling through with a bridge attempt, once more Debris manages to slide from the pin attempt and quickly springs to her feet. Angelus Sorrow picks Liam Martin up and sends him crashing to the floor with an implant DDT.
Truth Waters: I have no idea what’s going on anymore…
“Killing In The Name!” blares over the PA system as Ares and Susanowa make their way to the ring.
George Cassidy: Legion!
James Brunt: Introducing next…
Susanowa sprints down the ramp and springboards into the ring off the steps in a seated senton attempt… wrong move. Angelus Sorrow grabs the flying Susanowa mid flight and slams him into the ground with The Unbeliever: nefarious powerbomb…
ONE!
Truth Waters: Eliminated! Ares and Susanowa eliminated straight away!
James Brunt: Uhm… introducing next…
The theme music has not stopped as the other members of The Legion join them at ringside…
James Brunt: Horus and Vidar!
George Cassidy: What?!
Truth Waters: Another duo from The Legion! But don’t they have to wait 30 seconds?
George Cassidy: I don’t think anybody cares anymore!
Horus slides under the bottom rope only to be met by a sickening elbow drop from Tim Martin. Vidar does the same, yet Aimz and Darcy Crisis meet him with a baseball slide dropkick to the face. Angelus Sorrow sits in the corner catching his breath as he and Lacuna Debris do the smart thing and let the others do battle. Liam Martin lifts Horus straight from the ground onto his shoulders and with the power of a bull runs and powerbombs Horus straight onto his fallen comrades Ares and Susanowa, while Crisis pulls Vidar in and pins him.
ONE!
Truth Waters: My god… the Legion didn’t last long. New Black, Aimz/Crisis and The Furious Fists Of God are left now.
Crisis and Aimz jump to their feet and charge at the New Black… but WHAM~!
Truth Waters: THE FIST OF GOD, THE FIST OF GOD~!
Intercepting their charging motions with the most unholy of right hands, both Liam and Tim Martin end any hope of an Aimz and Crisis pairing taking gold. Lacuna Debris dives on top of Aimz…
ONE!
George Cassidy: This is it… just two more teams left. Who will take the gold?
Truth Waters: What devastating power in those hands…
Tim and Liam look at one another as across the ring, the New Black are what stands between them and their second reign of gold. Across the ring, Angelus Sorrow stares with an intent which only could ever serve a purpose of pain… Lacuna Debris charges in for one last swansong! Liam ducks under her forearm attempt and continues to charge into the unsuspecting Sorrow with a running knee straight to the abdomen. Liam begins to lay knee after knee into the ribs of Sorrow. Debris halts in her tracks and runs back to Liam Martin… she’s caught dead in her tracks as Tim Martin pulls her hair and flings her back into his arms and straight into the White Light of God! Debris lands squarely, her chin crushing almost on impact.
George Cassidy: That had to hurt…
Truth Waters: Because you’re not a teacher… right?
br> Debris is out cold, but now was no time for pin attempts, it was time to make a point here in AWC. Tim positions Angelus Sorrow between his knees in a standing headscissor. Signalling to the heavens he heaves the huge Sorrow up onto his shoulders as if to powerbomb him… Liam’s outstretched knee awaits… CRUNCH~! The exposed skull of Angelus Sorrow strikes down with an impact so great Liam crawls away in agony as Sorrow’s head is powerbombed straight into his knee. The Book Of Revelations – game over. Tim moves over to make sure Debris does not attempt any miraculous pin fall break up, whilst Liam winces as he covers Angelus Sorrow.
ONE!
Truth Waters: The Furious Fists of God have done it! What a finale… the Book of Revelations comes out of the locker room to put a stamp on a gruelling encounter.
James Brunt: The winners... and new AWC Alliance champions, for the second time... THE FURIOUS FISTS OF GOD!
George Cassidy: The Martins deservedly take the gold! The favourites pulled through despite abnormal stipulations to make it their second run with the belts!
Truth Waters: Having beaten Adam Dick twice, they were never gonna have it any other way – though The New Black were impressive, and ran them close!
FEATURING: DARCY CRISIS
AUTHOR: NATE
The scene opens in a pitch-black room. A voice can be heard counting in reverse:
3…
2…
1…
A lone spotlight suddenly flickers on, revealing the nature of the setting. A man clad in torn jeans, a midnight-dark T-Shirt loosely adorning his upper body, and long, flowing black hair covering his lowered face sits at a small card table, his hands clasped. He seems to make no response to the room moving from total darkness to the lone light source shining down on his visage. With the light now brightening him, his shirt can be seen to read “E.B.E.” in large white letters, with a smaller “Since 1999” clarifying how long whatever the hell the former had been established.
“We’re ready for you, Mr. Crisis,” the voice responsible for the countdown chimes in again. Upon hearing this, the man at the table flips his hair back and the face of Darcy Crisis is now exposed. Staring directly into the camera, he speaks.
Darcy Crisis: Good evening. My name is Darcy Markson. Some of you out there might know me better as Darcy Crisis. Then again… some of you may not know me at all.
The hair that Darcy flipped back begins to creep down again towards his face. Tucking the rebellious locks behind his ears, he continues.
Darcy Crisis: In which case, let me provide you with some background. Unlike many others in the business, wrestling hasn’t always been a part of my life. I don’t even consider it to be the most important part of it. But I can scarcely find the words to describe just how important it’s been in making me who I am.
Some footage begins to play of Darcy Crisis’ early wrestling days. Of note are clips of his debut in PSW, his winning of the North American Championship, and the subsequent epic feud over the title he’d had with fierce competitors such as Fazel and “Big Dawg” Jared Irons. Darcy continues to speak via voiceover.
Darcy Crisis: I used to work for a company called Pier Six Wrestling. It was there that I first gained a real footing in this business. It was there that I met the love of my life. And it was there… that I won my first World championship.
The clip from WrestleCade, PSW’s premier pay-per-view event, where Darcy Crisis won the PSW Title in the infamous 3 Cage Match is shown. The announcers fawn over the moment as Darcy is on his knees, clutching the title in front of raucous thousands.
Darcy Crisis: Very few people remember the fledgling company that went out of business years ago. Even fewer remember that day where I snatched the title on top of three steel cages. But those that do, the ones who were there… they saw something truly special happen. They saw a man who had earned the right to see his star shine among the true greats. But disaster struck…
The clip now runs when moments later, two members of the Elite, a group Darcy had been feuding with at the time, ambushed from behind and threw him from the top of the cage.
Darcy Crisis: I broke my fucking back on that day, the day that should have been the greatest of my career. I was forced away from wrestling because of what happened that day. Forced to retire at only 23. Forced to watch everything I had worked for fade into obscurity as others passed me by. And worst of all, forced to know that there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. You could very well say that on that day, the day I was supposed to become a hero… I was instead fated to be a zero.
Darcy looks down again, taking a few moments to recompose himself after delving into such painful memories. He soon looks up and presses on.
Darcy Crisis: Several years passed. I was able to make peace with the fact that this was my fate. But a funny thing happened. They say time heals all wounds…and this adage applied quite literally. The pain in my back that accompanied every new morning had subsided. I knew in my heart that I could compete again. And that’s what led me back to wrestling, what led me to the AWC. I had a few wrongs in my life that needed righting, most importantly that the legend of Darcy Crisis deserved a proper ending. I found myself back in the saddle just like old times. For the first time in what seemed like an eternity, I felt like I had unlocked something that had been hidden and buried inside of me, doomed to be destroyed and forgotten. I kept piling up the victories, knowing it was only a matter of time until my star rose again from the ashes.
Darcy Crisis: But then came time for the first AWC pay-per-view in my tenure, Bloodlust… and I was left off the card. I paid it little heed, simply believing that I had more to prove. I racked up more victories, even one over Jack Murphy, then Transatlantic champion. The stage was set for Twilight Of The Gods… and I was stuck in a FUCKING TRIVIA CONTEST with the latest no-talent ass clown from Ba-haka-laka-stan looking to make a name for himself by hating America. Meanwhile, a couple of classless jackoffs named Adam Dick and Ellis Nash, who spend all their time high as shit laughing their asses off about tropical fruit, and even, God help me… fucking on camera… somehow rose to the top of this company. Is that what warrants a championship reign these days? WHAT. THE. FUCK?!?!?!
Darcy leaps from his chair, clearly very animated.
Darcy Crisis: The way I see it, Adam Dick is not the Transatlantic champion. He stole that title from Jack Murphy under dubious measures, and he’s been holding the title hostage ever since. And he’s done his best to keep me away from him, placing his new buddy Garbage Bag Johnny in charge of setting traps, throwing zombies at me, hitting me in the back of the head with a FUCKING shovel! Are you afraid of me, King Dick? Is that what this is about? Is that why every time I pose a threat to you or your little doped-up queen, I suddenly find two, three, seventeen of your little hired scrotum-lickers on my back? You must think this is all some sort of game…
Darcy chuckles incredulously, before shouting at the top of his lungs:
“WELL IT’S NOT A GAME TO ME!”
Without warning, Darcy grabs the card table and violently heaves it away. It flips several times end over end before disappearing out of sight.
Darcy Crisis: I want you to listen to me very closely. I… will… NOT let you make a mockery of what I stand for, the sport that I love and the career that I’ve put on the line more times than I can count. And if I have to go through all the King’s horses and all the King’s men to get back into the title picture again, then that’s exactly how we’re going to roll. Johnny Hobo, tonight I pen the conclusion to this sad little tale, which I like to call “Backing the Wrong Horse: The Garbage Bag Johnny Story.” You’ve been a thorn in my side for way too damn long. But tonight I bust out the tweezers, the tweezers that will wrap around your neck and tug at your arm until you beg me, BEG me, Johnny, to bury you under that scrap pile you call a home! Tonight I divide the King and Queen that nobody asked for from their Royal Court once and for all when I conquer the Garbage Man and earn my claim to the throne! Tonight, the E.ast B.ay E.xecutioner puts a huge, gaping hole in the Court where their lead henchman used to be… And I defy anybody who’s looking to fill that hole , anyone who’s feeling the LEAST bit lucky, not to learn from the lesson I teach this hobo tonight about what happens when you STAND… IN MY… WAY!
With that, Darcy grabs the chair he’d been sitting on and heaves it into the spotlight. Glass shatters all around him, accompanied by a remarkable display of electrical sparks raining down on his vicinity. The last thing seen is flashes of the Darcinator in a fit of rage, staring a hole into the camera as the spotlight gives its last flickers.
fin.
STIPULATION: LANDFILL - CLAIM TO THE THRONE
REFEREE: LARS LARSSON
AUTHOR: JOSH NAY AND KATE
Truth Waters: And now, folks, it is time for AWC’s first ever Landfill match, and after winning all of his claim to the throne matches thus far, Garbage Bag Johnny is set to try and keep Darcy Crisis away from another shot at the Transatlantic Title.
George Cassidy: Last time Garbage Bag Johnny fought on the west side of the Atlantic, he beat three men to become AWC’s Zero 2 Hero winner, and since then, he’s only gotten better. I remember two months ago, everybody was kissing Darcy’s ass as the next big thing. Garbage Bag Johnny’s catapult to the top and his Zero 2 Hero reign so far have taken the wind out of Darcy’s sails, and I don’t think the Darcinator has what it takes to top my man, Garbage Bag.
Truth Waters: Crisis has been on an unlucky streak as of late. It seems he’s always been just inches away from getting that important victory. I think Crisis has a good a shot as anyone in this match. Ever since winning the Zero 2 Hero tournament, Garbage Bag Johnny has just gotten more arrogant and less focused. If Crisis can keep his concentration and not let Garbage Bag’s underhanded antics get to him, I think he can walk out of here tonight with a shot at the Transatlantic title.
The camera focuses on a removed section of the entrance ramp, where a pit is formed. Next to the pit, AWC crew members dump out bag after bag of garbage, forming a huge mound. James Brunt stands in the ring to announce the competitors as Lars Larsson stands in the ring.
James Brunt: The following match is a Claim To The Throne Landfill match! Introducing first, from East Bay, California, Darcy Crisis!
“Open Your Eyes” by the Guano Apes begins to play, and Darcy Crisis walks out to the ring, turning left and right while motioning to pump up the fans as he walks briskly down to the ring. He rolls under the bottom rope as the fans give him an ear shattering ovation. Darcy stands ready and waits for Garbage Bag Johnny.
James Brunt: And his opponent, the Hero of 2006, Garbage Bag Johnny!
“Garbage Bag Johnny Will Win Zero 2 Hero” begins to play, and brown strobe lights flash on and off through the arena. Garbage Bag Johnny, however, comes out from the side, and is first seen climbing the trash heap. He raises the Zero 2 Hero trophy helmet in the air, and the fans boo him loudly, although he’s too out of it to tell.
George Cassidy: This song has a really catchy chorus!
Truth Waters: I can’t imagine how long it took him to write the lyrics. He just repeats his name over and over again.
Garbage Bag reaches into the rubbish heap and grabs a bent trashcan lid. He walks around the ring, giving his trophy helmet to the timekeeper. Garbage Bag Johnny glares angrily at Lars Larsson in the ring.
Truth Waters: Garbage Bag Johnny wanted all referees banned from ringside, but Pearl ruled that there could be no sanctioned match without at least one referee to call for the bell. As a compromise, Pearl did ban any additional referees. GBJ is ridiculous.
Garbage Bag stops at the edge of the apron to slide the garbage can lid into the ring, but Darcy Crisis nails him with a baseball slide dropkick right afterwards. GBJ backs up and crashes into the AWC security fence, and Darcy slides out of the ring. Truth Waters: The bell hasn’t even rung yet, and Crisis’s already taking the action to the outside!
George Cassidy: Leave it to Darcy Crisis to hit a man with his back turned.
Truth Waters: He couldn’t have just hit Johnny right in the face if Garbage had his back turned.
Darcy, quick to get right on top of things, grabs a handful of Garbage Bag Johnny’s hair and throws him back into the security fence. Crisis starts reddening Garbage Bag’s exposed chest with a series of hard knife edged chops. The fans shout with each chop, and after the hardest yet, Garbage Bag stumbles away, holding his chest and trying to catch his breath. Darcy stalks right behind Garbage Bag Johnny. He grabs Johnny from behind and rolls him back into the ring. As GBJ gets up inside the ring, Darcy pulls himself up to the ring apron. Darcy steps in between the ropes, and the bell rings.
Truth Waters: The match is official now!
Garbage Bag throws a weak punch to fend off the oncoming Crisis, but Darcy blocks and sends Garbage Bag reeling with a harder shot. He follows up and backs Garbage Bag Johnny into the corner before Irish whipping him across the ring to the opposite buckle. Darcy Crisis charges with a running body splash, but Garbage Bag Johnny ducks and flips Darcy Crisis over the top rope. Darcy, in mid air, catches hold of the top rope and lands on his feet on the apron. Darcy quickly grabs the back of Garbage Bag Johnny’s head and pulls it down over the top rope into a reverse guillotine. Garbage Bag’s body flips back awkwardly and he lands on his front side in the ring.
Truth Waters: Darcy Crisis is starting this one off on fire.
George Cassidy: He’ll cool down, just like he always does. I wonder if Aimz is getting frustrated at Darcy’s inability to finish.
Darcy Crisis pulls Garbage Bag Johnny back out of the ring by his legs, crashing onto the floor outside. Darcy pulls GBJ up and slams his head down on the apron. Garbage Bag reels backwards, and Darcy Crisis kicks him in the gut and delivers a standing vertical suplex on the outside. Darcy then gets up and lines himself up on the apron, waiting for GBJ to slowly get back to his feet. Darcy takes off running and leaps off the apron at Garbage Bag Johnny only to be met with a desperation dropkick.
Garbage Bag crawls around to the other side of the ring, lifting the apron out and sliding out a table so he can get to a garbage can full of tools that’s stored behind it. Garbage Bag Johnny empties out the tools, a broomstick, a mop, and a shovel before readying the can above his head to smash Darcy with.
Truth Waters: Darcy Crisis just slid into the ring, and Garbage Bag Johnny is still waiting for him.
George Cassidy: You think Garbage Bag Johnny does too many drugs?
Truth Waters: That would be an understatement.
Darcy Crisis reaches over the top rope and grabs the can from a surprised Garbage Bag Johnny. Darcy puts the garbage can down so that it’s standing upright and pulls Garbage Bag by the hair. Johnny climbs up to the ring apron to alleviate the pressure on his scalp, but Darcy just flips him over the top rope and begins stomping on him. Darcy pulls Garbage Bag up, kicking him in the side before whipping him off of the ropes. Darcy ducks down right in front of the garbage can as GBJ returns, and flips him over with a shoulder tackle to the knees. GBJ flips over Darcy, his upper body landing in the garbage can and the momentum carrying it over. GBJ stays on the canvas with the trash can on his head.
Truth Waters: I like the look of that much more than the Zero 2 Hero Trophy Crown.
GBJ somehow manages to get up to his feet with the can still on his head. Darcy Crisis dropkicks the trash can, and GBJ bounces off of the ropes. However, GBJ uses his momentum and springs forward with a diving head butt, smashing the can on his upper body into Darcy Crisis’ face.
George Cassidy: Now that’s what I call ring presence!
Truth Waters: Well, GBJ does know his way around a trash can.
Darcy Crisis stumbles around as Garbage Bag Johnny takes the can off of his head and brains Darcy with it. Darcy goes down to the mat, and Garbage Bag Johnny puts the trash can down upside-down a few feet away from Darcy. He grabs the trash can lid that he slid in the ring at the beginning of the match and bounces off of the ropes. GBJ jumps off of the upside-down garbage can, slides the lid under his thigh, and completes a spinning leg drop, sending the trash can lid right into Darcy Crisis’ face!
George Cassidy: That’s my Bag!
Garbage Bag pulls Darcy Crisis up to his feet and kicks him in the stomach with a soccer kick. Darcy Crisis hunches over, and Garbage Bag lifts him up for the a stump piledriver. GBJ holds Darcy up by the pants, positioning himself, before sitting Darcy’s head down right on top of the garbage can. Darcy falls to the side, and Garbage Bag sits back up and knocks the can over. GBJ then pulls Darcy to his feet once again and runs him over the top rope to the outside.
Truth Waters: After a couple of high impact maneuvers, Garbage Bag Johnny is back in this.
George Cassidy: Crisis is already out of juice. Nobody fucks with Johnny!
Garbage Bag Johnny sees Darcy Crisis prone on the outside before grabbing the garbage can and ascending the turnbuckles. On the top rope, GBJ eyes Darcy’s position and puts the trash can over his head again.
Truth Waters: Has GBJ lost his mind?
George Cassidy: He’s just a man that appreciates fine headwear…and oh shit, he has lost it.
Garbage Bag Johnny dives blindly off the top rope to the outside with the already bent garbage can atop his upper body. His leap is amazingly accurate, but Darcy’s reflexes are sharper as he rolls out of the way, and GBJ crashes to the outside with the can on top of his head.
Truth Waters: I’m guessing that Garbage Bag Johnny’s in worse shape than that trash can right now.
George Cassidy: And that trash can has seen better days.
Darcy Crisis gets back to his feet and tosses the shovel halfway down the ramp. He tries to pull the can off of GBJ’s head, but the trash can is flattened around Garbage Bag’s features, so Darcy, not wasting any effort, grabs GBJ by the legs and begins to drag him up the ramp. About halfway to the shovel, Garbage Bag starts kicking his way free, the trash can still secured around his upper half. Darcy lets go of GBJ’s flailing legs, and GBJ is able to maneuver himself out of the can, still guarding himself with his legs up in the air. Truth Waters: GBJ and Crisis are in a standoff right now.
GBJ tosses the can at Darcy Crisis, who instinctually catches it before GBJ plants a boot to his midsection, taking the air out of him. Garbage Bag Johnny gets up as Darcy Crisis hunches over, dropping the garbage can. GBJ then suplexes Darcy Crisis onto the ramp, back towards the ring. George Cassidy: Garbage Bag Johnny is a crafty little bastard!
Truth Waters: Crisis’s back bounced right off of that ramp. Both of these competitors have sustained a lot of wear and tear early on in this one.
Garbage Bag Johnny walks around Darcy Crisis and sets up the table that lay outside the ring from earlier. GBJ finishes this task, and Darcy slowly gets to his feet. GBJ grabs Darcy by the head and pulls him towards the table, but Darcy responds by kneeing GBJ in the stomach before GBJ tries to roll him onto the table. Darcy then hits Garbage Bag Johnny with a knife edged chop before slamming his head down on the table. Garbage Bag bounces off and stumbles around the outside of the ring. Darcy follows him in hot pursuit.
Truth Waters: Darcy Crisis recovered pretty quickly from that suplex on the ramp.
George Cassidy: He must be on some kind of South American healing drugs, disqualify him! There’s no place for drugs in the AWC.
Truth Waters: Remind me who you wanted to win this match?
Darcy Crisis lifts Garbage Bag Johnny up for a back suplex, but instead of dropping backwards, Darcy throws GBJ forward towards the ropes. GBJ bounces off of the ropes as Darcy lets go and falls hard to his back on the outside. Darcy hops up to the apron, takes a few quick steps and leaps off, landing a diving elbow drop right into the black heart of Garbage Bag Johnny!
George Cassidy: Garbage Bag Johnny doesn’t have a black heart, just the black lung.
Darcy Crisis peels Garbage Bag Johnny off of the floor and rolls him back into the ring. Darcy climbs up the turnbuckle from the outside and stands on the second turnbuckle. He leaps off for the overcastle, but GBJ ducks under it and runs forward. Darcy quickly completes a somersault back to his feet as GBJ continues towards the turnbuckle, springboarding off the second rope for a turnaround cross body. Darcy catches him in the air!
Truth Waters: Nice catch by Darcy Crisis!
George Cassidy: It’s those Mayan drugs! They give him super strength, like Mark McGwire!
Darcy Crisis places Garbage Bag Johnny on the top rope. He slaps GBJ across the chest, and GBJ sways. Darcy swings GBJ’s feet over the adjacent ropes, and Darcy begins scaling the turnbuckle, hammering fists into Garbage Bag Johnny’s skull. Darcy then points to the table outside the ring, set up from earlier. He tucks GBJ’s head under his legs and tries to lift him up for a powerbomb while balancing himself with his left foot on the top rope and his right foot on the middle rope inside the ring.
Truth Waters: Darcy Crisis is going to paralyze Garbage Bag Johnny!
George Cassidy: He can’t do it! He needs more of his illegal jungle tea!
Darcy struggles, and doesn’t have enough balance to lift Garbage Bag Johnny from this position. GBJ, however, is able to hook his arms around Darcy’s waist and lift him over his shoulder. GBJ balances himself before stepping one leg over the top rope and pushing off backwards, nailing an Upside-Down Trash Compactor from the second rope through the table outside! Both men are down!
Truth Waters: Crisis and Garbage Bag both appear to have sustained a lot of pain from that impact! I don’t know if these guys are going to even make it over to the landfill!
George Cassidy: I have a feeling Pearl would be pretty pissed if Garbage Bag Johnny and Darcy Crisis convinced him to dump a hill of garbage on the stage unnecessarily.
Referee Lars Larsson is checking on the two men in the pile of table shreds outside the ring. They both appear to be alive, which is a good sign. Garbage Bag Johnny starts crawling around, as dazedly as possible. He reaches around and grabs the first thing that he can grab, the broomstick. He hastily mounts Darcy from behind and begins choking him violently with the broomstick.
Truth Waters: GBJ must have knocked another screw loose in that last maneuver. He’s gone foaming mad, and there’s nothing that referee Lars Larsson can do about it.
George Cassidy: Truth is telling his name. Garbage Bag is literally foaming at the mouth.
Out of concern, referee Lars Larsson starts to warn Garbage Bag Johnny. GBJ doesn’t heed the warning, and Lars Larsson starts counting to five before deciding to finally pull Garbage Bag Johnny off of Darcy Crisis.
George Cassidy: That’s not fair! This match has no rules!
Truth Waters: It doesn’t, but referee Lars Larsson is the most conservative, hard-line referee we have in AWC.
Garbage Bag Johnny gets up, holding the broomstick. He looks angrily at Lars Larsson, backing him up. Lars puts his hands up in defense as Garbage Bag Johnny is still foaming and growling something about a “damned referee conspiracy.” Garbage Bag Johnny breaks the broomstick over Lars Larsson’s head, and Lars goes down hard!
Truth Waters: Garbage Bag Johnny obviously still believes that Darcy Crisis has some sort of tie with the referees!
George Cassidy: With the way Lars Larsson just interfered in the match, I don’t blame him!
Garbage Bag Johnny walks over to Darcy Crisis, who is still gasping for air. He stands over him, holding the two broomstick halves, when suddenly, referee Aaron Davies comes running out from the back to replace Lars Larsson. The young and up-and-coming referee naively stands a bit too close to Johnny, just to oversee the action, but GBJ, already infuriated by Lars Larsson steps over Darcy Crisis and lands a broomstick half right into Aaron’s stomach, finishing him up with a ninja-like half-broomstick combo.
Truth Waters: Poor Aaron Davies. He didn’t know any better.
George Cassidy: Poor Garbage Bag Johnny! This is turning into a handicap match!
Truth Waters: The referees aren’t Garbage Bag Johnny’s opponents!
George Cassidy: Aren’t they really?
Truth Waters: No, they’re not!
Garbage Bag Johnny waits for the next referee to come out, giving Darcy Crisis more time to catch his breath. Richie Travis walks out casually, but he stops when he sees Garbage Bag Johnny staring him down and beckoning to come out. Richie tries to reason with Garbage Bag from a safe distance, but it doesn’t matter as Darcy Crisis gets up and floors Garbage Bag Johnny from behind with the nearby, deformed trash can!
George Cassidy: That’s blatant cheating! Richie Travis was distracting Garbage Bag Johnny!
Truth Waters: Richie Travis was just doing his job! This match needs ONE capable referee. He can’t disqualify or fast count Garbage Bag Johnny, though, so Garbage Bag Johnny has nothing to worry about.
Darcy tosses the trash can, which is so bent out of shape that it’s not even a proper maiming tool anymore, and he picks up the shovel. Garbage Bag Johnny stumbles back to his feet, and Darcy levels him with a shovel shot.
Truth Waters: Darcy almost took Garbage Bag’s head off there! Johnny could be unconscious!
Darcy drags GBJ by one arm towards the stage, carrying the shovel in the other hand. This is a slow process, but Darcy gets GBJ to the edge of the pit and starts stomping him in the ribs until Johnny falls into the pit. Darcy Crisis sticks the shovel into the trash heap!
Truth Waters: Darcy Crisis is making the first attempt to win the match by trying to cover GBJ completely with garbage inside that pit!
Darcy scoops a big shovel of rubbish and tosses it into the pit, but the stench of the garbage revives Garbage Bag Johnny from his haze. Garbage Bag Johnny stands up inside the pit, and he knocks away a second shovelful of garbage before climbing out of the pit. Darcy turns around, and Garbage Bag Johnny kicks him in the stomach. Darcy hunches over and drops the shovel, and Garbage Bag Johnny knocks Darcy over with a running knee lift. Garbage Bag then sifts through the pile of garbage and finds a glass bottle. Darcy gets up and walks right into Garbage Bag’s swing. The bottle breaks over Darcy’s head, sending Darcy down to the ground and glass everywhere.
Truth Waters: Crisis is bleeding from the forehead here!
George Cassidy: Cover that she-male in trash!
Garbage Bag Johnny rolls Darcy Crisis into the pit before picking up the shovel and tossing two shovels full of garbage on the Darcinator, but Darcy powers through it, getting up with blood running down his face and climbing out of the pit. Garbage Bag Johnny turns around and swings with the shovel, but Darcy ducks under it. The shovel flies out of GBJ’s grip and skids across the stage. Darcy spinning heel kicks GBJ right into the trash heap before following it up with a running body avalanche!
Truth Waters: This is the first time I’ve ever seen two men go at each other in a pile of garbage!
George Cassidy: It’s too bad Steven’s missing this. It seems right up his alley… his GAY alley.
Truth Waters: That’s hardly appropriate.
Darcy and GBJ have rumbled their way to the top of the garbage heap, and Darcy has the upper hand after some traded punches. Darcy Crisis kicks GBJ in the stomach and executes a swinging, jumping DDT that plants GBJ’s head firmly beneath the garbage. GBJ is sticking straight up with his head in the mound of trash and his feet in the air. Darcy Crisis capitalizes by pulling a burnt out halogen tube and smashing it across Garbage Bag Johnny’s stomach. GBJ’s head becomes unearthed, and Garbage Bag Johnny slides down the side of the garbage heap.
Truth Waters: What a shot! Garbage Bag Johnny is down a heap, and it looks like Crisis has this match well in hand!
George Cassidy: If Darcy Crisis wins this match it will be the biggest travesty in history. The referees have screwed the Garbage Man worse than their distant cousins in the World Cup screwed the U.S.!
Truth Waters: …distant cousins?
George Cassidy: You need to take a look at the Referee Family Tree, Truth… look out!
Recovering from the tube shot, GBJ pulls himself to his knees, only to be floored by a low-level dropkick at the hands of the Darcinator. Garbage Bag Johnny rolls from the impact into the garbage pit, and Darcy immediately senses the opportunity. Wasting no time he immediately starts pushing as much rubbish as he possibly can to cover his opponent. What he doesn’t know, however, is that some dangerous trash already occupies the pit waiting for GBJ to take advantage of. He waits until Darcy’s head sticks a little to close to the edge of the pit before making his move… WHAM!
Truth Waters: OH MY GOD! Darcy Crisis absolutely LEVELED with a sheet of aluminum siding!
George Cassidy: It may have been of no use for whoever threw that out, but Garbage Bag Johnny definitely made use of it!
Darcy’s knees buckle as he slowly keels over. GBJ takes several seconds to pull himself out of the garbage pit, shaking his head in an attempt to regain his bearings. Eventually he does escape the pit and briefly considers attempting to place Darcy in the space he’d just occupied before noticing that Darcy has begun stirring as well. Sensing that he is in dire need of regrouping, GBJ heads away from the garbage pile altogether and makes his way back toward the ring. Rolling underneath the ropes and back within the confines of the squared circle, Garbage Bag Johnny pulls himself to his feet with the aid of the ropes and desperately attempts to regain his breath. The look of astonishment on his face, however, is evident in how far is jaw dropped to see Darcy Crisis has made it back to his feet as well, and is staggering back toward the ring himself, with the sheet of aluminum siding in hand.
Truth Waters: This match has been unbelievable so far…both competitors taking an unbelievable amount of punishment, and here comes the newly styled East Bay Executioner looking for more!
George Cassidy: How many nicknames does this guy have? I’m starting to think the “Crisis” in his name stands for an IDENTITY “Crisis…”
Truth Waters: Well let’s see… there’s “D to the C,” “D Masta---”
George Cassidy: For God’s sake Truth, it was a rhetorical question…
Darcy is staring a hole in GBJ from afar as he’s now approaching the ring with authority. Not wanting to allow him back into the ring with a significant advantage over him with the dangerous sheet of siding, GBJ concocts an all-or-nothing plan to cut him off. Just as Darcy is approaching ringside, GBJ sprints toward the opposite rope to gain a full head of steam. He bounces off and reverses direction, leaping above the top rope and stretching his body out perpendicular to Darcy’s in perfect flying cross-body formation. His aim true, Darcy has no choice but to absorb the impact as both GBJ and the aluminum siding crash into him, knocking all three hard to the floor.
Truth Waters: (gasping) Holy sh-… there it is! The Dumpster Dive! Well… kind of, if Darcy Crisis was on the ground. I guess that was just a regular cross body block over the top rope.
George Cassidy: Are you freakin’ KIDDING me?!
Truth Waters: Dumpster Dive, sort of, on Darcy Crisis, with an extra blow from the aluminum siding to boot! The Garbage Bag is known for taking big risks, and it looks like it might have paid off on this exchange!
George Cassidy: Neither men are so much as moving, but if I say so myself I believe this is the turning point… Darcy’s head snapped back hard after taking that Dumpster Dive type, uh, thing. He might be out cold!
For his part, Darcy is still clinging to his consciousness, but is definitely far worse for wear. After several long moments of no one even blinking, Garbage Bag Johnny finally begins to stir, clutching his stomach from the impact of absorbing the aluminum siding. Eventually GBJ is back to his feet, and angrily kicks the sheet of siding away.
Truth Waters: Garbage Bag Johnny the first to his feet, and it looks like he’s had enough of that aluminum.
George Cassidy: Actually Truth, you’re pronouncing it wrong. It’s “alu-MIN-um.” (try “alu-MIN-yum” -Ed.)
Truth Waters: …is that right?
George Cassidy: Yes, it’s not “a-LU-minum.” I had a chat with Jeff Marx (who is actually American -Ed.)… I may not like those limey bastards trying to steal my thunder across the ocean, but at least they have class.
Truth Waters: Well pardon my French Cassidy, but le screw that! This is Divide & Conquer! This is Winnipeg, in Manitoba, Canada, North AMERICA! And what this match may have lacked in class, it more than made up for in death-defying brutality!
Darcy Crisis has yet to move, and GBJ is kind enough to help the Darcinator to his feet. Not so kind, however, to give him any further time to recover. With a strong Irish Whip, Garbage Bag Johnny sends Darcy sprinting hard into the steel steps, where he crashes into a heap on impact.
George Cassidy: I told you Truth, this one is pretty much over. GBJ needs to get Crisis back up to that garbage pile and put him away! This match is his!
GBJ, however, elects to ignore Cassidy’s advice and inflict more punishment on his adversary. He again helps Darcy to his feet, and after hesitating slightly, lifts Darcy up into the fireman’s carry. The crowd begins to boo loudly as they see what the Garbage Man has in mind for Darcy Crisis…
Truth Waters: This doesn’t look good for Crisis! It didn’t look like he could lift him up, but Garbage Bag Johnny has Darcy Crisis set up for his signature maneuver!
George Cassidy: DO IT! Give him the Tragically Hipbuster!
GBJ looks to swing him over the second part of the move, a devastating sideways DDT… but Crisis is able to deadweight him and prevent the Tragically Hipbuster from being completed. Rather, Darcy uses all of his weight to force GBJ down with him, and in this Darcy manages to twist his legs around GBJ’s right shoulder…
Truth Waters: THERE IT IS! Crisis counters with the Darcinator!
George Cassidy: NO! Fight it, Johnny!
The crowd is screaming in delight as Crisis locks in his crippling finishing maneuver. Garbage Bag Johnny screams in pain, frantically tapping the concrete floor around him. Referee Richie Travis, however, can do nothing in this matchup with no pinfalls or submissions. Crisis takes advantage of the situation by rearing back and cinching in the hold as tight as possible.
Truth Waters: Darcy Crisis has the Darcinator locked in, and GBJ isn’t going anywhere! He might rip that shoulder clean off!
George Cassidy: This is sick Truth, how can you stand for this? Darcy Crisis can’t win by submission, he’s just looking to inflict unnecessary pain on poor Johnny!
Truth Waters: Well I can’t say it isn’t deserved! Garbage Bag Johnny has almost single-handedly worked on behalf of King Dick and his Royal Court to keep Darcy Crisis out of the Transatlantic title picture for over a month now… this is weeks of frustration, DESERVED frustration that Darcy Crisis is taking out on “Johnny Hobo!”
George Cassidy: This… this still isn’t right! I HATE Darcy Crisis! I hate his stupid long hair, his stupid girl name and GOD DAMMIT I HATE HIS STUPID BITCH GIRLFRIEND! And by the way, Garbage Bag Johnny is NOT a hobo!
Truth Waters: Sit down, Cassidy!
Darcy Crisis finally relents on his finishing maneuver, just before he would have inflicted possibly permanent injury on Garbage Bag Johnny. However, it appears he has no intention to give up on GBJ’s tender shoulder, as he yanks GBJ up by the arm that had been painfully locked into the Darcinator. He gives GBJ a couple of shoulder thrusts, with GBJ howling in pain after each one.
Truth Waters: Darcy Crisis looking to soften up that shoulder even further…
Crisis then gives GBJ an Irish Whip of his own, sending him crashing hard into the security railing just next to the entrance ramp. Garbage Bag Johnny unfortunately absorbs the impact softened-shoulder first, causing yet another unfortunate blow that causes him to shriek in pain. However, he is unwilling to give Darcy another advantage by falling to the ground, and he clutches desperately at the wire fence atop the security railing to pull himself quickly to his feet. This, however, appears to be exactly what Darcy Crisis was looking for him to do, as he drops into a crouch with one hand placed firmly on the ground to steady himself…
Truth Waters: A little known fact, Cassidy – Darcy Crisis used to play football during his high school years in his native East Bay!
George Cassidy: What does that have to do with anything?
Truth Waters: I think we’re about to find out!
Uncoiling like a panther ready to make the final close on its prey, Darcy pops up and sprints toward his homeless prey at full speed. Garbage Bag Johnny can do nothing but brace for the impact as Darcy nails him with a spear hard enough to tear through the security railing! Both men fall through the ripped-open barrier into a gaping section of the arena just outside the fan seating area.
George Cassidy: Jesus Tapdancing Christ! That barrier is reinforced by STEEL! How in the hell did Crisis get the strength to knock GBJ through that railing?
Truth Waters: This is pay-per-view, Cassidy! This is AWC! And this is a man who’s leaving nothing on the table! He wants this Transatlantic title shot, perhaps badder than anybody I’ve ever seen come through the ranks of AWC!
George Cassidy: But don’t forget how much Garbage Bag Johnny loves his undefeated streak. It’d be a shame if he was beat by a girl… well, kind of a girl.
Both men are down, and seemingly out as the impact of tearing through a steel security railing took its toll on Darcy Crisis almost as much as it did Garbage Bag Johnny. Both men are motionless for several moments until Darcy finally begins to stir. He gives GBJ several stiff punches to the jaw before getting to his feet over the fallen Garbage Man. He stares back up at the entrance ramp at the heaping pile of garbage, perhaps sensing that the end of the match is in sight. He makes a move back toward the ring when he feels a hand grab him by the ankle.
Truth Waters: I don’t believe it! Garbage Bag Johnny is conscious!
George Cassidy: And I don’t think he’s done, Truth!
With a surprising amount of strength for a man who was just speared through a security railing, GBJ uses his non-tender shoulder to remove Crisis from his footing. Unable to keep his balance, Darcy is forced to crash to the ground. GBJ looks as if he’s moving for an ankle lock before he reverses his position and locks in a signature submission move of his own…
Truth Waters: D.C. CRAB! D.C. Crab on Darcy Crisis!
George Cassidy: (snickering): How ironic! Darcy Crisis calls himself the “D Masta’ C,” but GBJ has Darcy in a very bad way with some D.C. mastery of his own! I love it!
Truth Waters: What does D.C. even stand for? Garbage Bag Johnny isn’t from Washington.
George Cassidy: It’s an homage to his favorite move, “D.C. Crab,” starring Mr. T and Gary Busey.
Darcy Crisis appears helpless as GBJ cinches back on the hold for some submission-style revenge of his own. He screams in pain, which only causes Garbage Bag Johnny to lock it in tighter, now sporting a smile on his face for the first time since he’d last had control much earlier in the match. However, he eventually lets go, knowing that his strength has been sapped, and that it could be quite difficult to drag Darcy from his current position all the way up to the ramp if Darcy is unable to move under his own power with an injured leg. He eventually releases Darcy from the D.C. Crab, but not entirely from his clutches. Grabbing him by the hair, GBJ forces Darcy back through the hole they made in the security railing and sends him running face first into the ring pole, where he crashes to the ground after making a sickening thud into the ring post. Angrily, GBJ picks Crisis up and leans him against the ring, launching elbows into his back as blood can again be seen dripping from the Darcinator’s forehead.
Truth Waters: Uh oh… Darcy Crisis is now sporting the crimson mask, busted open in two places now at the hands of Garbage Bag Johnny…
George Cassidy: BLEEEEED for me, Crisis! BLEEEEEEEEEED!!!
Truth Waters: Cass, if you’re trying to get that over as a catchphrase, I’ll have you know it just might be the worst in history.
George Cassidy: You’re just jealous because I’M going to get my own T-Shirt, and you’re not! Ha ha!
GBJ is unrelenting in his assault now on Crisis, continuing with stiff elbows to his back. With no place to go Darcy is forced to take the shots as his face is now dripping heavily with blood. He drops to a knee, seemingly ready to keel over from such punishment. GBJ will have none of it though, and lifts Darcy back to his feet to continue the assault. But Crisis catches him with a surprise elbow, leaving momentarily stunned. Darcy utilizes the opportunity to turn himself around, and just as GBJ has recovered from the elbow shot Darcy catches him with a slap to the face so loud it echoes throughout the arena. He catches Garbage Bag Johnny so hard that he nearly turns all the way around, giving Darcy the opportunity he was looking for. Before GBJ can fully recover Crisis catches him in a sleeperhold from behind, with one of GBJ’s arms locked only to flail helplessly above him as he struggles to escape.
Truth Waters: We’ve seen this numerous times from the Darcinator when the odds look stacked against him, and here it comes again!
George Cassidy: NO! Not the---
WHAM!
Truth Waters: THERE IT IS! MIND CRISIS!
Darcy Crisis absolutely floors Garbage Bag Johnny with the sleeper DDT, his patented Mind Crisis! However, Darcy is slow to get up after completing the move, possibly from the mounting loss of blood he’d suffered from in the past several minutes. The crowd is in a frenzy, absolutely on the end of their seats as they are anxious to see what will happen next. But then, a hush seems to overtake them as Darcy, now back on his feet, waves his arm at the fallen Garbage Man as if to say “the hell with this!” Darcy leaves GBJ behind as he trudges back up the ramp. The crowd is stunned as to what is going on, hoping that Darcy is heading toward the pile of garbage in search of another wasteful weapon. He disappoints, however, by instead turning back to look one last time at Garbage Bag Johnny, now beginning to stir, and waving his arm in disgust one last time before disappearing behind the curtain.
Truth Waters: What the hell is this? It seemed like Darcy Crisis was back in control, but now he’s walked out on the match!
George Cassidy: We should have known all along that this encounter would be a test of endurance! And it looks like GBJ, black lung and all, has endured all Darcy Crisis has to offer! What a chump!
Garbage Bag Johnny, now back to his feet, looks equally as shocked to see his opponent give up on the match. He turns to Richie Travis, who has been standing by himself in the ring with nothing to do for some time, wondering what will happen next. Travis shrugs, apparently equally as perplexed by this turn of events. GBJ rolls beneath the ropes and back into the ring, demanding that Richie Travis count Darcy out, and declare GBJ the winner of the match. Travis, however, starts shouting in return that the match can only end with one man buried beneath a pile of garbage, and there’s nothing he can do to end the match until that happens.
George Cassidy: More damned conspiracy by the referees! This match should be over! Why isn’t the referee making it official?
Truth Waters: You heard the stipulations! No pinfalls, no submissions, no DQs and no countouts! This match can only end one way, and Richie Travis, or any OTHER referee, for that matter, is handcuffed until that happens!
George Cassidy: Well it isn’t GOING to happen, Truth! Your precious little Darcy just gave up!
GBJ after lighting a nearly flat cigarette from a mangled box in his pocket, now has Travis grabbed by the shirt, essentially implying that his physical well-being depended on his making a decision in favor of the Garbage Man. GBJ backs Travis up, who looks positively petrified before a loud interruption hits the scene:
HONK HONK!!!
The entire arena looks stunned, wondering what the hell is going on now. Suddenly, through the curtain bursts a garbage truck, with Darcy Crisis at the helm! The crowd goes absolutely ballistic as Crisis sounds the horn again, slowly pulling the truck down the entrance ramp. GBJ releases Travis from his clutches, looking like he’s seen a ghost. The cigarette drops to the mat as GBJ’s jaw drops. Referee Richie Travis stamps the cigarette out quickly so nothing catches fire, and GBJ is too startled to yell at him for snuffing the smoke. Crisis pulls the truck to a halt several feet from the ring, and deftly exits the driver side door and swings around to pull himself on top of the truck. GBJ, his composure regained, beckons Darcy to come after him in the ring.
Truth Waters: I knew he wasn’t finished! Darcy Crisis has returned to this matchup, and he didn’t come alone!
George Cassidy: Unbelievable!
Darcy heeds the Garbage Man’s call, and flies off the top of the truck onto GBJ below. Crashing upon impact, Crisis is relentless with a flurry of punches toward GBJ’s skull. GBJ quickly reverses the situation, however, and unleashes a flurry of punches of his own. The two trade momentum as the crowd is sucked in by the sudden outbreak of action. Crisis forces GBJ off of him, who sprints toward the ropes to bounce back with added momentum. Crisis uses the momentum against him, however, with an arm drag that sends Garbage Bag Johnny flying through the ropes and again to the outside. Crisis’ entire face is still pouring blood, but he’s now moving with a speed that hasn’t been seen from him the entire match as he follows GBJ in pursuit.
Truth Waters: Garbage Bag Johnny’s getting into the garbage truck.
George Cassidy: This could be bad news for everyone. I’m not sure if Garbage Bag Johnny knows how to operate a vehicle!
Garbage Bag Johnny turns around and steps on the gas, and the truck starts moving forward. Darcy has to sprawl out of the way as the truck crashes into the ring at a slow speed. The ring visibly moves though, and the truck definitely felt the impact.
Truth Waters: He forgot to put it in reverse! This is why you shouldn’t operate cars under the influence of anything that Garbage Bag Johnny considers a hobby.
George Cassidy: Relax, Truth. He hasn’t killed anyone yet.
Darcy Crisis climbs in the passenger’s side of the truck while GBJ is figuring out how to operate the gear shifter. Darcy slams GBJ’s head into the steering wheel.
HONK!
GBJ falls over, and Darcy pushes GBJ out of the way, maneuvering the garbage truck himself back onto the entrance ramp. He stops the truck and puts in park right next to the hole. Richie Travis runs up the ramp to get a better view as Darcy Crisis pushes Garbage Bag Johnny out of the truck. GBJ falls right into the hole, caught by the garbage, with his upper body sticking out.
George Cassidy: Get up, Johnny!
Truth Waters: It looks like it’s over, all Darcy has to do is pile on a little more garbage. Darcy Crisis, wanting to end this with an exclamation point, repositions the truck. He parks it right in front of the hole and the garbage truck’s back begins to tilt upwards.
Truth Waters: MY GOD! Darcy’s going to win!
George Cassidy: Don’t count your chickens yet! The garbage spills into the hole filling it above the brim, but it’s too late. Darcy Crisis gets out and looks at Richie Travis, questioning him as to why the bell hasn’t rung. Darcy points at the heap.
George Cassidy: That crafty bastard GBJ was playing possum. As soon as Darcy got back in the truck he stood up, and as soon as the garbage truck stopped, he slid underneath it!
Truth Waters: I didn’t even see that!
George Cassidy: I don’t think most of the people here saw it! GBJ kicks David Blaine’s ass.
Garbage Bag Johnny slides out from underneath the garbage truck and waits right behind Darcy Crisis. Darcy turns right around into…
George Cassidy: The Vagina Punch!
Truth Waters: That was just a low blow! Darcy Crisis has testicles.
Darcy Crisis hunches over in pain, clutching his gonads, and Garbage Bag Johnny tosses him head first through the dump truck’s side window. The glass shatters as Darcy Crisis hangs halfway in and halfway out. GBJ reaches in to operate a lever that puts the back of the dump truck back in place.
Truth Waters: Darcy Crisis cannot be in good shape here, George.
Garbage Bag pulls Darcy Crisis out of the window and slams him on the truck’s hood. GBJ pushes Darcy up onto the truck’s cab then and follows until the two on top of the back of the truck.
Truth Waters: Darcy Crisis is getting up! There’s something left in him after all!
George Cassidy: It can’t be!
As Darcy struggles to his feet, pulling himself up by the legs of Johnny’s pants, GBJ tries hitting him in the face. Darcy’s numb face can’t feel it, and his stubborn will wouldn’t let it stop him anyway. Darcy pulls himself up and takes a mammoth swing at GBJ.
Truth Waters: Come on Dar…
But GBJ ducks the swing, and he cranes under Darcy’s arm to lift him up into a fireman’s carry. GBJ shuffles his feet to the edge of the truck.
George Cassidy: Holy shit! This is better than Christmas and Hannukah combined!
Tragically Hipbuster! Tragically Hipbuster off of the garbage truck right into the trash heap!
George Cassidy: HOLY SHIT! That was better than having lunch with Jesus!
Truth Waters: Both competitors are almost completely submerged in that garbage after that move! Who will be the first to stir?
That question is soon answered, as Garbage Bag Johnny’s arms sprout out of the trash heap to join his head. He pulls himself out of the pile, which is now overflowing from the hole. Darcy isn’t moving inside it. Garbage Bag goes to the remaining pile, throwing everything he can on Darcy Crisis.
Truth Waters: Come on, Crisis! Get up!
Pizza boxes, potato chip bags, old clothes.
George Cassidy: It’s not going to happen!
Old porno mags, dirty diapers, banana peels.
Truth Waters: Come on!
Everything but the kitchen sink… and GBJ’s win streak.
Truth Waters: NO!
George Cassidy: Haha! That’s my boy! Eleven and oh!
The bell rings. GBJ falls over into a pile of scattered garbage. Referee Richie Travis raises his hand from the ground.
James Brunt: The winner… GARBAGE BAG JOHNNY!
FEATURING: CHAINZ, AIMZ
AUTHOR: MIKE S.
Truth Waters: What a night of action we’ve already had and I’m sure it’s going to continue.
George Cassidy: Garbage Bag Johnny… well, what can we say?
Truth Waters: Yeah, what can you say?
George Cassidy: Don’t know, just...
Truth Waters: Wait a minute Cassidy, I’m getting word from the back that Aimz and Chainz have just run into one another.
The cameras quickly cut backstage so as not to miss anything. True to Truth’s words Aimz and Chainz are standing and exchanging pleasantries.
Aimz: I didn’t know they let pigs into the arena.
Chainz: And I didn’t know they let stinking pussy into the arena. Seriously, do you ever wash down there.
Aimz stands there steaming about ready to explode, but she remembers her earlier attempts at beating Michael Sloan and the futility of it all.
Aimz: Ah fuck it.
All reason aside Aimz bottles up her fist and throws it right into Chainz’s smirking face. The smirk remains, but is joined by a trickle of blood coming from his nose. Chainz wipes his nose and blows Aimz a kiss.
Truth Waters: That man is just revolting.
George Cassidy: What the hell are you talking about, this is just what this pussy ass pay-per-view needed. Finally some real action to go with that amazing Landfill match.
Aimz throws another fist, but Chainz catches her much smaller hand in his and holds it. She throws her free hand, but it is caught again. Chainz brings her in close to his own body, but instead of hitting her he begins to smell her hair. He must like what he smelled because he begins licking her neck and going lower to her breasts.
Truth Waters: This is getting very x-rated very fast. Though what else can you expect with Chainz on the screen. Pearl better get ready for another batch of angry phone calls.
Chainz: You smell so good and you taste just like a strawberry. I could take a bite of you and I bet you’d melt right in my mouth. You’d like that wouldn’t you?
Chainz goes to bury his face in Aimz’s breasts, but she manages to knee him in his manhood. Chainz drops to his knees as Aimz runs away. Chainz slowly raises, his lust insatiable, he starts to pursue her.
Truth Waters: Well that was a weird exchange and hopefully Aimz gets out of the arena before that freak can catch up with her.
George Cassidy: Damnit, it was just getting good.
Truth Waters: Lets move on to something that won’t make the censors hang themselves.
FEATURING: GARBAGE BAG JOHNNY, LIMO DRIVER
AUTHOR: JOSH K.
Garbage Bag Johnny exits the men’s restroom, zipping up his pants, after his grueling match with Darcy Crisis that he either won or lost, in which case he is either exhaustedly happy or angrily disappointed, respectively. Either way…
Garbage Bag Johnny: Nothin’ beats the feeling of a clean pair of testicles!
As the Garbagemeister is making his way back to the Royal Court’s locker room, he is intercepted by a man in a driving uniform.
Driver: Excuse me, sir. Are you Garbage Bag Johnny?
Garbage Bag Johnny: Yeah, why?
Driver: I’m your limo driver. Do you remember that contract you signed last week? I’m supposed to take you to your appointment at the day spa.
Garbage Bag Johnny: Day spa? But it’s clearly well into the evening.
Driver: It’s a twenty-four hour day spa. It said that in the contract.
Garbage Bag Johnny: Oh yeah! Now I remember. I distinctly remember something about a twenty four hour day spa, but I wasn’t sure if it really happened or if I just saw it in a movie one time.
Driver: Are you ready to go? The limo’s right outside.
Garbage Bag Johnny: Limos? Day spas? I think I could get used to living the high life.
Driver: Alright, sir, then just follow me, and we’ll be on our way.
The driver smiles, and GBJ follows the driver down the hallway and towards the parking lot.
Ellis Nash (c) vs Anton Assault
STIPULATION: SINGLES
REFEREE: MICHAEL RYAN
AUTHOR: PIERRE HYDE
Truth Waters: So Cassidy, it’s about time for our scheduled main event –
George Cassidy: – that isn’t actually the main event.
Truth Waters: Not quite. But it’s still gonna be a pretty enthralling match.
George Cassidy: Yeah, I guess so. Ellis Nash is the queen of all things holy in cheer shorts... and Anton Assault sure knows how to break a bone or three.
Truth Waters: His record’s not overly impressive at six-six...
George Cassidy: Oh but Truth, would you like to step into the ring with him?
Truth Waters: Hell yeah. I'm not scared of anybody!
George Cassidy raises an eyebrow.
Truth Waters: ...but Anton would probably be bottom of my list.
George Cassidy: That’ll do.
"WAAAAAARRRLOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRD!!!"
The guttural, almost desperate cry from Steven Rathbone announces Lair of the Minotaur's "Warlord" to an unsuspecting Canadian public. A long guitar slide sounds and then the song enters a fierce rampage, accompanied by flashing red lights and an image of a lion leaping into a pit of men and tearing into them wholesale, sending limbs flying and terrified bodies everywhere.
James Brunt: The following is a singles match for the AWC Frontier championship! Introducing first, the challenger, being accompanied to the ring by Luis Ferrara, from Paris, France, weighing in at 229 pounds... “The Lion”, ANTON ASSAULT!
Amid the crushing riffage, a form dressed in a multicolored dashiki steps out onto the stage: the one and only Anton Assault. Of course, right behind him is his manager, Luis Ferrara, drywashing his hands and casting an arrogant glance up onto the crowd. The Lion doesn't look incredibly intimidating, wearing a colorful dashiki and dressed in his black short trunks and boots under that, but his demeanor is ugly and aggressive.
Truth Waters: He’s not gonna pussyfoot around tonight!
George Cassidy: When does he ever? Anton looks focused and ready. I fear for Ellis a little, I really do.
Truth Waters: (bitterly) But no doubt Adam Dick will be there in her time of need...
George Cassidy: Oh, there is doubt, Truth... considerable, I might add.
Truth Waters: What do you mean?
George Cassidy: Oh, I can’t say anything now, Truth...
Luis leads his prospect down to the ring and he stands off to the side, letting Anton climb into the ring by himself.
Truth Waters: You’re bluffing.
George Cassidy: Would I?! I flatter myself that I know just a little more about AWC’s only royal relationship than you, Truth.
Once inside the ring, Anton carefully pulls off his dashiki and hands it down to Luis, who rolls it up and heads over to set it with the timekeeper. Anton begins to limber up inside the ring, doing stretches and generally looking focused.
Truth Waters: So what you’re saying is that Dick won’t get involved tonight?
George Cassidy: (choosing his words carefully) There may be circumstances that prevent... such an occurrence.
Truth Waters: You’re more cryptic than Yoda.
“Oblivion” by Aimee Allen begins to play, and Ellis Nash emerges, Frontier title belt locked around her waist, laughing mockingly at all the signs she sees in the crowd on her way down to the ring.
Truth Waters: Mike Wade returned that championship belt via Garbage Bag Johnny on Fresh!burst. You’ve gotta wonder what his motives were behind stealing it in the first place.
George Cassidy: Mike Wade, Mike Wade... turning on King Dick was possibly his worst career move to date.
Truth Waters: I’d disagree; his popularity has---
George Cassidy: Screw popularity; being half-in, half-out of David “Pearl” Harber’s pocket is no desirable situation for any man.
Truth Waters: ‘cept perhaps Steven Smith.
James Brunt: And his opponent, from Cortland, New York, weighing in at 126 pounds... the AWC Frontier champion... ELLIS NASH!
George Cassidy: Ellis has now held the belt for three months, having beaten Mike Wade for it at Twilight Of The Gods.
Truth Waters: I still don’t quite understand how Aimz is still not Frontier champion yet!
George Cassidy: AWC’s #1 Whore had her chance to take yet another shot at Ellis tonight, but she blew it at Fresh!, submitting to Anton Assault to give Mr. CKD the #1 contendership.
Truth Waters: Now it’s up to champion Nash to tame the voracious Lion.
Nash removes her championship belt, and James Brunt leaves the ring with it. Michael Ryan takes a final glance at both competitors – intense glares adorning both their faces, despite Nash’s supposed aloofness – and calls for the ringbell.
DING! DING! DING!
Truth Waters: We’re underway with the Frontier title match at Divide And Conquer! And Nash is straight into action!
Nash skips forwards and immediately plants her fists in Anton’s ribs, quickfire jabs stunting the match beginning for the Lion. After a moment he spreads his arms over Nash’s back, but before he can make anything of it Nash brings him over in an unwieldy fireman’s carry takedown.
George Cassidy: I think that may be the first fireman’s carry Ellis Nash has ever peformed.
She takes advantage of Assault being briefly prone and shifts her weight onto one boot planted in his face, swivelling round in the ultimate heel (in more than one sense of the word) attack. Assault kicks his legs in anger, frustrated at being bested by such a crude and simplistic manoeuvre; the crowd aren’t happy with it either.
Truth Waters: The fans issuing their displeasure with Nash’s tactics, but they’re not particular fans of either of our competitors, are they, Cassidy?
George Cassidy: Some people have a completely irrational dislike for Ellis just because of her relationship with a man they truly hate, the Face-Eater. They overlook her myriad good qualities and condemn her by association.
Truth Waters: And Anton Assault, well, he’s winning his fans.
George Cassidy: Luis Ferrara doesn’t help that. He gets things done, but he’s seen as a slimeball.
Truth Waters: To be fair, he is a slimeball. A pussy too. But we digress.
Assault is now on his feet and maybe Nash would have done better not to anger him. Just like it’s a mistake to score against Brazil, it seems an error on the champion’s part to subject the Lion to such rudimentary offense; his sudden determination to avenge the loss of face (in more ways than one...) from being treated in that way is quite a surprise for Ellis. With no special consideration for her gender – and that’s fortunate, because sex discrimination is a hot topic in AWC with Filipe Alvaro’s mistreatment of Samantha Keane at Fresh!burst – Assault applies a strong grapple (Def Jam Vendetta-style) and thrusts a knee into Nash’s abdomen. George Cassidy goes white.
George Cassidy: Holy fuck, does he know what he’s doing?! This is bordering on criminal...
Truth Waters: Cassidy! Don’t be such a pussy, it was a knee to the stomach!
George Cassidy: Not... not just the stomach...
Truth Waters: WHAT ARE YOU NOT TELLING ME?!
Nash doubles up, and Anton hooks her arms before repeating the punishment.
George Cassidy: Somebody stop him! I knew she should never have gone out there in her condition!
Truth Waters: Wh – ohh... Cassidy, is Ellis---
George Cassidy: Shhhhhhhhhh!
Truth Waters: Well why’s she---
George Cassidy: I don’t know!
Truth Waters: Can’t we---
George Cassidy: No!
A further knee, and with Nash weakened sufficiently, Assault breaks out the first significant move of the match – a double underhook suplex.
George Cassidy: Suplex; now we’re getting to the meat and potatoes of the match.
Assault quickly bounds off the mat and goes to Nash’s legs, taking her boots as if looking to apply a submission, but Nash wriggles free and backs away. Now trapped in the corner, she pushes herself up on her arms as Assault advances over her. Then---
Truth Waters: OH!
George Cassidy: Regions shot! (Tildes are so last year!)
The Frontier champion belted Assault between the legs with a savage upward-thrusting kick! Leaping to her feet, she is straight into action with a rotating elbow to his anguished face, and grabs Assault’s arm as if for an Irish whip – but as she begins to sling the Lion back across herself, drops to the mat and performs a drop toe hold.
Truth Waters: That’s good thinking by Ellis Nash; it looked like the stronger Assault would reverse the whip, so she didn’t give him the chance.
George Cassidy: That’s why she’s champion; fleet of foot and sharp of mind...
Truth Waters: Anton’s pretty strong in the brains department too, you know, Cassidy. I have this feeling that Ellis Nash may just have met her match...
George Cassidy: You’re only saying that because he’s black!
Nash crawls over to the Lion’s upper body and hooks her arms under his, pressing his face down into the mat in a kind of grounded full nelson. Assault uses his legs to try and roll out of it; Nash straddles his body with hers to prevent him doing so, focusing on wrenching the shoulder joints.
Truth Waters: Nash sets to work on Assault’s arms, hoping to dim the threat of his powerful strikes.
George Cassidy: That’s wise. Those shoteis could break her pretty little body in half.
Once more Assault looks to channel energy to his legs; Ellis shifts her position once again, lacing her legs around his hips and between his legs, forcing them apart to try and nullify the escape opportunity. However, the champion inadvertently relents a little on the nelson, and Assault uses his immense strength to draw his own arms downwards, trapping Nash’s in the hold she started herself. She lets out a cry of pain.
Truth Waters: Anton Assault has turned Nash’s full nelson on the mat into a manoeuvre of his own!
George Cassidy: He could break her arms like that!
Nash slackens totally, throwing her body off Assault’s, and the Lion withdraws his arms, rolling onto his back to massage his neck after the brief stress of the nelson. He is on his way up as Ellis rubs some life into her arms, desperately aware that her improvisation backfired. Assault takes her boot and drags her away from the ropes; Nash kicks out and misses, Assault applying a leg grapevine.
George Cassidy: Anton’s got Ellis in a leg grapevine. He chose not to apply an armbar despite having weakened the arms...
Truth Waters: The Lion wants to keep the champ grounded. It’s as clear as day. She’s got to use her speed and agility to counter Assault’s close-quarters threat; Double A doesn’t want to let that happen.
The lock isn’t one of Assault’s most powerful, though, and if not at ease, Ellis Nash looks at least unworried about the stress the hold places on her legs. She bears it out, her efforts to forge an escape scuppered by the immense leg strength possessed by the Lion. It is not long before Assault relents the hold and drags Nash to her feet. As she stands, struggling to mount her guard, the Lion kicks out at her left shin before stepping back, ready on the balls of his feet. Nash absorbs the blow and comes at Assault with a high kick; Assault ducks under it and slams his boot against the standing leg. Nash crumples to the canvas but comes straight back up; Assault kicks her right shin twice with his right boot before switching onto his other leg for a spinning toe-punt into her left knee. Nash is hopping around trying to avoid the meticulously-placed kicks, and as Assault hesitates, she sees a chance. Turning her body sideways, she prepares a surprise superkick – but Assault clobbers her across the base of her jaw with a sharp shotei!
Truth Waters: We heard that snap over here! The Distraction Combo executed to perfection by Anton Assault!
George Cassidy: Ellis just took a serious blow to her jaw!
As Nash lies motionless on her front, Assault raises her right leg from the mat and then slams it back down, impacting her kneecap against the canvas. He does the same with her left, and then turns, crouching over Ellis’ body and applying a half crab.
George Cassidy: He’s really going to work on the legs. Half crab now.
”AN-TON! AN-TON!”
Pockets of crowd members enjoying Assault’s MMA stylings chant his name, while manager Luis Ferrara urges him on from ringside, slamming his hands against the apron and yelling obscenities left and right. Assault gives Ferrara a stoic nod, but a moment later his eyebrows knot with slight worry as he finds himself pulled backwards.
Truth Waters: Nash is going for the ropes!
With some considerable effort, Ellis Nash is slowly dragging the scenario closer and closer to the rope set ahead of her. Annoyed, Assault doesn’t wait for the inevitable rope grab; he stands up and drops a knee in the back of Ellis’ equivalent. She shouts in pain.
Truth Waters: That was smart! One more second of inconsequential half crab, or a devastating knee drop to the back of the thigh? The latter, and the Lion’s really cresting the wave of this match.
Ferrara applauds loudly from ringside, but Assault remains serious, as ever, and leans down to wrap his arms around Ellis’ slim body and hoist her to her feet.
George Cassidy: Oh, what I wouldn’t give to do that...
Assault slams a palm into her chest.
George Cassidy: And that...
Truth Waters: But a little more gently, I would hope.
Another quick shotei, and Ellis is reeling; she trips now over Assault’s neatly-placed leg. Her falls almost seems in slow-motion, or else Assault moves at the speed of light; either way, Assault spins into the air and thrusts his dangerous right leg, catching Nash in the left temple with the toe of his boot.
Truth Waters: Incredible!
George Cassidy: He could have knocked her out right there!
Truth Waters: Anton Assault is pulling out all the stops for the Frontier title at Divide And Conquer!
Nash has rolled to a stop just shy of the turnbuckle; Assault looks to Ferrara who is repeating “Pin! Pin! Pin!”. Anton considers it, then slowly shakes his head.
George Cassidy: What? Ferrara told Assault to make the pin just like everyone in the MTS Centre expects... and he said no!
Truth Waters: The Lion wants to be absolutely sure of it before he does so, I suppose. There’s no point getting a two-count and surrendering your momentum.
Instead, the Lion drags Nash to her feet and Irish-whips her to the opposite turnbuckle. In no state to offer any resistance, the Frontier champion goes crashing into the buckles and finds Assault crushing her against them momentarily with a leaping shoulder block!
Luis Ferrara: CRUSH!
Truth Waters: We’re looking at CKD right here!
George Cassidy: Crush, kill, destroy... that’s the way it’s going for Ellis Nash, and I'm afraid to say her title reign looks more precarious by the second.
”C-K-D! C-K-D!” The fans have picked up on the sequence, as Assault throws himself into Ellis’ abdomen with a considerable spear.
George Cassidy: No! I... I – he doesn’t know what he’s doing to Ellis!
Luis Ferrara: KILL!!
Truth Waters: One last move, and that’ll be Ellis Nash finished!
Assault bends and lifts Ellis Nash on his back as if for a Samoan drop. Ferrara starts leaping up and down with greasy Venezuelan excitement on the outside, clapping his hands and laughing with joy. Assault stalks about the ring with Ellis Nash up and helpless.
Truth Waters: Where’s Adam Dick? Where’s Garbage Bag Johnny? Where are the Royal Court? Ellis Nash has founded her Frontier title reign on equal doses of ability and cheatility, but the cavalry aren’t coming for her!
George Cassidy: Cheatility?!
Assault tips Ellis forward, her body about to come inverted over his ready for a Tombstone-style piledriver...
Luis Ferrara: DESTROY!!!
George Cassidy: I can’t watch!
But somehow Nash drives a knee into Assault’s spine! Assault tries once more to hoist her up, but a harder knee stuns him.
Truth Waters: She’s fighting back! Cassidy, she’s fighting back!
And somehow...
Somehow...
Truth Waters: DECREE! DECREE! DECREE!
George Cassidy: What?!
Truth Waters: She scored the Decree! Off of the Lion’s shoulders!
The crowd have sudden exploded into noise, having been a little muted during Assault’s dominance. This is what Ellis Nash can do. Turn a match around in one fell swoop.
George Cassidy: COME ON, ELLIS! If Brian McBride can soldier on then so can you, my darling, so can you!
But they’re both flat-out, and with good reason. While Anton Assault has just experienced something no one wants to experience – an ultra-high impact Decree – Ellis has been Crushed. She has been Killed. She has very nearly been destroyed. There’s no way she’s crawling the few feet to the Lion’s body to make the fall that would certainly retain her title. No way.
ONE! TWO! THREE!
Truth Waters: Ellis Nash is just unable to make a move! She’s helpless to take advantage of the best opportunity this match will present her! She just needs to move a couple of feet...
George Cassidy: ELLIS NASH I LOVE YOU REGARDLESS BUT YOU REALLY REALLY NEED THIS PIN!
FOUR! FIVE!
Assault, struggling, moves his arm to his neck and gingerly feels it. But Ellis sits up. White-faced, OK. But she sits up, and takes a look, and drapes herself backwards in the right direction. Michael Ryan curtails one count to begin another.
George Cassidy: She’s got it! She’s done it!
ONE!
TWO!
THR-
George Cassidy: Huh?!
Michael Ryan stops counting.
Truth Waters: BAH GAWD! He’s got his foot on the ropes! If the Lion won’t go down to a falling Decree off his shoulders... then what WILL he go down to?!
Nash sits up and wrenches Assault around, more distant from the ropes. Now she wearily hooks the leg.
George Cassidy: Another pin, maybe?
ONE!
TWO!
Assault kicks out.
Truth Waters: No dice!
George Cassidy: Unbelievable. Incredible resilience in this man.
Truth Waters: This is becoming an enthralling contest between two real stars of AWC.
George Cassidy: And the result is all the more important because this is Divide And Conquer: after tonight, the roster splits in two and as we’ve seen, Anton and Ellis will find themselves opposites sides of the Atlantic! It’s not as if a rematch could come by quickly for tonight’s losing party.
Truth Waters: Very true.
Ellis Nash is starting to get a little life back in her body as she gets to her feet now, trying her best to breathe evenly. Luis Ferrara has come round to this corner of the ring to issue encouraging words to his client; Nash gives him a dirty look and turns her back, not seeing the outrageous wink that she receives in return, to whistles from the fans.
Truth Waters: What a greaseball, Luis Ferrara. He and his client couldn’t be more different. Anton Assault has a genuine sense of honour, but Luis Ferrara...
George Cassidy: He’d do anything for his own ends, anything.
Truth Waters: Despicable.
George Cassidy: It takes a great man to have that kind of self-belief, Truth.
Truth Waters: Wise words from a commentator with a chip the size of Venezuela on his shoulder.
Assault moves onto his feet, and Nash is back in quickly, insistent that her challenger not be given a chance to regain a foothold in the match. She applies a side headlock; knowing that the power in her arms will not be in enough in this case, Nash begins to pummel Assault’s face with her free left hand.
Truth Waters: Now it looks to me like Ellis Nash is balling her left hand into a fist as she attacks the Lion...
Michael Ryan’s spotted the same, and claps his hands to grab Nash’s attention. A violent shake of the head and a wagged finger. Nash shrugs, punches him one more time, and sidles away. Assault drops to his hands and knees. Ellis launches herself off the cables and dives legs-first into a low version of the Fame Asser!
George Cassidy: Oh! Crushed Assault’s head between her jarring knees as they hit the mat!
Truth Waters: Neat manoeuvre.
Nash rolls onto her other side and applies an armbar to Assault’s right arm. The application is very considered, yet Nash’s technical expertise is insufficient for two things: one, to apply the armbar in the most devastating place; two, to make sure her opponent is clear of the ropes beforehand. Thus, as Assault flicks his leg effortlessly up onto the bottom rope, he is also able to get his head off the canvas and throw his free arm up to grab Ellis by the side of her shorts.
Truth Waters: Assault can easily work out of that Ellis Nash armbar...
George Cassidy: Hey, he’s copping a feel!
That’s certainly not the intention; as Nash breaks the hold on Ryan’s insistence, Assault is able to powerfully drag her backwards, causing her to rotate onto her back; the Lion now turns left and upward to cradle her legs and push forward in a pinfall:
Truth Waters: Oh we have a pinning predicament~!
ONE!
TWO!
Nash kicks out angrily.
George Cassidy: She was caught by surprise there! Anton dragging her back by the shorts!
Truth Waters: He wasn’t holding them during the pinfall, though. Anton Assault essentially plays it fair.
George Cassidy: You couldn’t say the same about Ellis Nash – REGIONS SHOT!
Just as Cassidy utters his fateful words, Nash leapt up; with Anton’s back turned, she dipped with relish and drove her balled fist up between his legs! Unsighted by Assault’s body blocking his view, Michael Ryan is powerless to do anything, until he’s called into action by her school-boy pin:
ONE!
TWO!
THR-
Truth Waters: KICKOUT!
George Cassidy: Champ nearly retained just there!
Truth Waters: After a low blow! Cassidy, your precognitive abilities are outstanding!
George Cassidy: They wanted me for Minority Report, don’t you know.
Frustration stating to set in, Nash moves over to the ropes and steps up onto the second turnbuckle, turning as she does so. Holding the perpendicular top ropes either side of her hands, she is leaning forward and poised to spring.
Truth Waters: The Lion’s getting up and he needs to take in the view – too late!
Nash buries her paired boots in Assault’s chest!
George Cassidy: Leaping dropkick to knock the challenger back down!
Nash follows straight up, mounting Assault’s body and starting to throw forearms into his head. Assault takes the blows, growing in number impressively as Nash refuses to tire.
Truth Waters: That must be at least a dozen punches by now, and Anton Assault isn’t moving a muscle...
George Cassidy: He’s at her mercy! Finish him, Ellis!
Looking a little baffled now, Nash nevertheless continues to plug away, knowing that the head damage will hinder Assault’s thinking as well as his balance – not to mention the direct pain it will also invariably cause him. This almost seems too easy now, after that horrendous spell earlier when Mr. CKD was all over her...
Truth Waters: But you know how lions are... quiet... not a movement... and you think they haven’t seen you, but lions see everything. And you get more and more daring, and go closer and closer, as far as you dare, and then...
Assault suddenly turns the tables, rolling sideways so that Nash falls under him in a reversal of the same position. He clasps his hands and as he shoots his legs backwards, drops to nail Ellis in the forehead with twinned elbows!
Truth Waters: ...they pounce!
George Cassidy: Look who’s the precog. Nice, Truth! Not so nice for poor Ellis.
Truth Waters: The Frontier champion grossly misjudged the situation there!
Assault pops back onto his feet and grabs Nash’s legs, folding them quickly into a Texas cloverleaf!
George Cassidy: Texas cloverleaf from Anton Assault! Textbook submission hold!
Truth Waters: I'm almost disappointed; Assault usually uses such varied submissions...
George Cassidy: Oh, he won’t finish her like this Truth! The Lion’s just trying to wear Ellis’ legs down once more, eliminating the aspect of her game that best serves her against him. Not just the kicks, but the speed, the leaping off the ropes...
Truth Waters: He’s a beast, but a tactical beast, Mr. CKD.
Nash is wilting in the hold, but the Lion’s oversight is clear – she’s within a few feet of the ropes. As yet the champion has not quite registered this, concentrating on keeping her joints flexed to minimise the pain.
Truth Waters: This isn’t too taxing for Assault. Look at his face. He’s already thinking ahead; always two, three, five manoeuvres ahead of himself. That’s his gameplan.
George Cassidy: But that can leave him exposed, Truth. If for some reason things don’t go quite to plan, Anton Assault can take time to get back into it, because that’s a five-manoeuvre plan he has to scrap. He’s not as spontaneous a fighter as Ellis Nash.
Nash now becomes aware of the proximity of the ropes; not because she was looking, but because Luis Ferrara’s voice had suddenly become pretty loud; too loud to block out. Nash looked up with annoyance on her face at his petulant punning, and seeing the ropes within feet, began to inch forward. Now she stretches out an arm, and it’s nearly there.
Luis Ferrara: Come on, Lion! Put ‘er away!
She makes another move. Ellis is a little closer. Assault is starting to lose his grip. Nash stretches out her arm...
Truth Waters: FERRARA SLAPS HER HAND AWAY! Luis Ferrara just stopped Ellis from getting the ropes, and Michael Ryan’s seen it!
Boos and whistles engulf the MTS Centre as the senior referee heads over to remonstrate with Assault’s manager. But his job is done. Assault uses the distraction to wrench Ellis away and into the ring centre; her resistance evaporated on the shock of Ferrara’s getting involved. Now she cries out, in exasperation more than pain, but the Lion suddenly drops the hold, casting a significant glance at Michael Ryan’s turned back. Now in his element, Ferrara is pointing his finger in Ryan’s face, jibber-jabbering loudly about something or other. It’s enough to keep the senior referee blissfully aware of the goings-on in the ring – or rather, on its periphery, as Assault, to the bemusement of many, scoops Ellis up and places her on the top turnbuckle, facing away from the ring. Michael Ryan gives them a cursory glance; nothing seems out of order and Luis Ferrara has brought up yet another issue so it looks like he’s occupied for now.
Truth Waters: Michael Ryan isn’t paying the slightest bit of attention! This is page one of the heel manager textbook and the referee has fallen hook, line and sinker for it!
George Cassidy: And Assault has Nash on the top and I know exactly where this is going, and I can’t even watch; this is bad bad news for Ellis Nash! See you in heaven, El!
Assault hooks Ellis in a hammerlock and drops to lock his legs behind the rope, simultaneously swinging Nash backwards over his head to suspend her in an inverted mid-air hammerlock!
Truth Waters: That’s what he calls Strappado! For anyone watching, this is an illegal manoeuvre! Assault is using the ropes; he’s got his legs trapped between them to give him the ability to somehow suspend Nash upside down with a hammerlock on her arm!
George Cassidy: Broken elbows are not at all on common from this move! Anton Assault has resorted to the Strappado – I can barely believe it myself!
A few seconds are all it takes; Nash topples over and falls to the canvas high on her back; she’s not using that right arm again, not tonight. Assault lets his body drop to the mat next to hers, braced for the fall and immediately rebounding from the canvas to hook both legs away from the turnbuckle and pin Ellis Nash. Luis Ferrara shuts up and turns away, leaving Michael Ryan to notice the predicament and count the fall:
Truth Waters: This is certainly isn’t how we imagined Ellis Nash’s title reign ending!
ONE!
George Cassidy: She is going to be bitter as HELL... and that arm just a little swollen...
TWO!
Truth Waters: Anton Assault is the new Frontier ch---
THR-
Truth Waters: ---amp... NO!
Ellis. Kicks. Out.
George Cassidy: REWRITE THE BIBLE! WE’VE SEEN A MIRACLE!
Truth Waters: ELLIS NASH KICKING OUT AFTER HAVING BEEN BRUTALLY, IMPOSSIBLY SUSPENDED BY HER RIGHT ARM IN MID-AIR! STRAPPADO HASN’T FAZED THE FRONTIER GIRL FROM CORTLAND!
George Cassidy: She’s curled up into a ball and Anton Assault is storming away, irate!
Ellis Nash curls up into a ball and Anton Assault storms away, irate, because George Cassidy is always right. Except a lot of the time. But right now, nobody knows what’s right and what’s wrong, because everyone knows kicking out like Ellis just did is simply not right. Yet she’s done it. And that’s why she’s the Frontier champion; because at five feet something and a compact one-twenty-six she can upset the odds any time she likes.
But she’s not out of the woods yet. Uprooted, the Lion plants new seeds, and if Ellis thought the worst was over, she couldn’t see the forest for the trees; Nash has more trunks to fell before she can pick apart the leaf litter on Anton’s ground. Starting with this one: the Tiger Trap Leg Scissors.
Truth Waters: There’s no relent here! Assault has Ellis by the foot and he’s dragging her away from the ropes!
George Cassidy: But she’s clinging onto the turnbuckle! Ellis has both hands desperately around that ringpost, kicking her legs...
Not for long. Assault pulls harder, and Nash is helpless as her sleek trousers offer little resistance as they slippy-slide over the canvas at the Lion’s command. Assault leaves her and backs off, checking his distances. Dead centre, that’s where he wants her. A little to the right, he thinks. He moves Ellis a little to the right. Luis is screaming for him to “Do it already, you fuck, Lion, you fuck!”, but Assault is in a world of his own. If what he did previously couldn’t pick the lock of Ellis Nash, then he needs to find the perfect key. And he can’t risk the key snagging in the lock, so he’s got to cut the metal just right. Dead centre means dead centre. No other way.
Truth Waters: Meticulous preparation here from Anton Assault... I’d guess that Ellis faces another submission hold...
George Cassidy: It’ll be the legs, Truth; he was working on the legs earlier for a reason.
Truth Waters: Or the arms... that right arm is helpless, dangling from Ellis’ collarbone like a doll from a little girl’s hand.
George Cassidy: You think Hyde’s going a little overboard with the metaphor tonight?
Truth Waters: Actually that was a simile, dickface.
The Lion grabs Nash’s leg, lifting it and pushing forward, forcing a bend at the knee. Nash is still too out of it to react. He plants his left leg across it, alongside her hip. He starts to lean further forward, compressing the thigh backwards.
George Cassidy: It’s the Tiger Trap we’re looking at, Truth, and if he gets this locked on... Jesus...
But he doesn’t. Ellis Nash senses the urgency of the situation, and draws her right leg up, kicking out blindly with it; she connects with hip, gut, and the trusty regions. The third one does the trick; Assault paces backwards, Tiger Trap forgotten, eyes watering. Nash rolls onto her side and tests her dead right arm. It’s still her dead right arm.
Truth Waters: Ellis gets out of it! If she’s going down, sugar, she’s going down kicking and screaming.
George Cassidy: This match means more to Ellis Nash than she’ll ever admit. She’s determined not to let Assault finish her off, and if she can just get a little bit of luck... well, who knows...
Luis Ferrara engages Michael Ryan again. I'm not sure why; maybe he’s just a little bored, maybe frustrated that Assault hasn’t polished this off yet. Assault approaches Nash, more tentatively now, thinking how best to exploit any distraction. But he hasn’t the time. The referee is more sceptical now, and in only seconds Ferrara is dismissed, Michael Ryan turning his attention back to the action. The Lion dispiritedly pulls Nash up by her arm. Bad move – accentuated by a smack in the mouth.
Truth Waters: Oh what a shot!
Blood spurts straight out of Assault’s lip as it bursts, staining Nash’s knuckles. Her left hand isn’t even her strong hand, but the right’s out of action, and it was shock more than power that did its job. That was all she needed. Step back; kick in the abdomen. DDT.
George Cassidy: DDT! DDT! The little bit of luck is present and correct!
Ellis acts on impulse, and in this case, impulse is drawing her to the skies.
Truth Waters: Ellis looking to ride that little bit of luck right to its crest!
Top rope. ”EL-LIS! EL-LIS!” Exhausted. White-faced. Determined. Frog splash...
Missed.
George Cassidy: NOOOOO!!
Truth Waters: Ellis misses the frog splash! Assault threw his body aside and Nash met bloodstained canvas! She’s there for the taking!
George Cassidy: Flamboyant surrender from Nash! Assault has everything in place for him!
The Lion hears one voice above all the others, and it’s that of Luis Ferrara:
Luis Ferrara: Lion! Tiger! Lion! Tiger!
It sounds nonsensical. It’s precisely the opposite.
Assault lifts Nash’s leg, drags her to the middle of the ring, steps over and through, crosses over. It’s there.
George Cassidy: TIGER TRAP LEG SCISSORS!
Truth Waters: Assault has it! Surely Ellis has nothing left!
Very little. The last fuel in the tank goes to her left arm, for the faintest of movements. She’s tapping out.
DING! DING!
James Brunt: The winner... and new Frontier champion... ANTON ASSAULT!
Truth Waters: He’s done it! Anton Assault defeats Ellis Nash!
Luis Ferrara grabs the title belt and dashes into the ring to celebrate. Assault relents his hold and looks intensely down at Nash, curling into a foetal position. Her crushed, killed, destroyed body. Her screwed-up eyes and her useless right arm. She’s given it everything, but this time, it’s not been enough. Anton nods.
With homage to the vanquished paid, he turns his head to the sky, and closes his eyes. This is his moment. His to savour. He tunes out the crowd. He tunes out Luis Ferrara, yelping like a maniac right next to him. And all he knows... is peace.
FEATURING: AIMZ, CHAINZ, MADDY ESTELLE
AUTHOR: MIKE S.
George Cassidy: Holy shit, I’m getting word that Aimz and Chainz are back at it again.
The cameras quickly cut backstage again where Aimz and Chainz are exchanging blows. Chainz gets the better of the exchanges and grabs Aimz by the throat, chugging her into a wall. He goes for a superkick that would have smashed her head, but luckily she moves right at the last second. Chainz hits the wall hard and comes back holding his knee. He tries to walk it off, but Aimz quickly cuts him from behind. He falls to one knee as Aimz quickly grabs a chair and plants it into Chainz’s face. She pulls back and tries again, but Chainz just swats the chair out of her hands and shoves her to the ground.
Truth Waters: Chainz is just too much monster for the Red Raver to overcome.
George Cassidy: She should have learned that last time.
Chainz crawls on top of Aimz, grinding his pelvis right into her most private of areas. She tries to squirm away, but Chainz is too heavy and strong.
Chainz: Now where were we before you left so unceremoniously.
Chainz goes to place a hand inside of Aimz’s pants but once again is interrupted.
Maddy Estelle: Eww, what are you doing?
Chainz looks up giving Aimz the perfect chance to knee him in the groin once more. Chainz falls over again, more annoyed than anything. Aimz gets up and kicks him in the face before running off once again.
George Cassidy: Damn it, every time Chainz is about to have some fun he’s interrupted and blasted in the balls.
Truth Waters: He can forget that child he always wanted. Seriously, though, why are we screening this? It’s sick and perverted! Chainz should be under arrest!
Chainz slowly gets up and looks around seeing the last inches of Aimz’s red hair as she turns a corner down the hallway. Chainz grabs Maddy Estelle by the back of the neck and brings her terrified face within inches of her own.
Chainz: Fucking whore, look what you did. Well since you’re here might as well have a taste.
Chainz buries his face in between Maddy’s two puffed up tits and buries a hand down her skirt. Maddy Estelle: Ohh, so nice.
Chainz recoils suddenly.
Chainz: Fucking taste like ass.
Maddy Estelle: Ugh, how’d you know.
Truth Waters: Great question.
Chainz doesn’t respond. He shoves Maddy to the ground and follows his red haired prey.
Truth Waters: This is perhaps the most bizarre thing I’ve ever seen. How many illegal things have we seen him do already?
George Cassidy: Lost count, but that’s why I love Chainz. This is turning out to be a great pay-per-view.
Truth Waters: Sigh, let’s go to the ring!
STIPULATION: SINGLES - CLAIM TO THE THRONE
REFEREE: MICHAEL RYAN
AUTHOR: MIKE
"Jump Around" by House Of Pain hits and the arena stands on their feet at the arrival of Mike Wade.
Truth Waters: You talk about a complete turn around Cassidy, look at this crowd react to Mike Wade.
George Cassidy: Mike Wade turned his back on what he was Truth and for that he should be booed out of this building. Poor Adam Dick might have to defend his title tonight. And GBJ has to fight twice because of him, he's a troublemaker.
Truth Waters: Troublemaker or not these people love him. This of course may be the last time they ever see him as he is retiring from active competition for personal reasons.
George Cassidy: Good riddance to bad rubbish.
Truth Waters: Would you stop!
James Brunt: The following is a singles Claim To The Throne match! Coming down the aisle, weighing in at 209 and 3/4 pounds, currently vacationing in Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada... MIKE WADE!
The crowd let a huge cheer out, partly to his cheap pop. Mike rolls into the ring and lifts his arms in the air. His face cracks his usual trademark cheeky smile but his eyes show a steely determination.
"Garbage Bag Johnny Will Win Zero 2 Hero" hits and the focus is turned towards the entrance way.
Truth Waters: Here comes his opponent. I still can’t imagine how GBJ is going to come out here and fight, having just been through hell with Darcy Crisis...
James Brunt: And the opponent, from Urbana, Illinois, weighing 219 lbs... here is Garbage Bag Johnny!
Truth Waters: Mike Wade maybe hasn't made a great decision here. GBJ is undefeated here in AWC.
George Cassidy: Ha ha desperate times Truth.
As Truth and George rabbit on the camera still focuses on the entrance way where there is no sign of Garbage Bag Johnny.
Truth Waters: Wait a second where is Garbage Bag Johnny?
George Cassidy: He'll be here.
The camera goes back to Mike Wade in the ring who is smiling from ear to ear. GBJ's music stops and Michael Ryan shrugs his shoulders. He rings the bell.
Truth Waters: He's starting the match?
George Cassidy: He can't do that.
The referee begins his count.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
FOUR!
FIVE!
George Cassidy: He can't do this!
Truth Waters: I believe he is.
SIX!
SEVEN!
EIGHT!
Truth Waters: I remember now! Garbage Bag's gone to that "health spa", haha! Wade's had this planned since last week! He knew Dick would make him face Garbage Bag Johnny!
George Cassidy: NO!!
NINE!
Truth Waters: YES!!!!
TEN!
James Brunt: The winner and new number 1 contender for the Transatlantic title, MIKE WADE!!!!
"Jump Around" hits and Mike bounces around the ring laughing as the crowd pop. He's the #1 contender!
Truth Waters: Unbelievable! A first blemish on Garbage Bag’s record, through an unintended no-show his winning streak ends! I believe that means that later tonight it's Mike Wade vs Adam Dick for the Transatlantic title! I never thought I'd say that sentence.
George Cassidy: It's obvious what's gone on here, damn that Mike Wade to hell he should go ahead and retire right now!!!
Truth Waters: Maybe, just maybe tonight is Wade's night, he'll finally win the big one and the Grand Slam!!
FEATURING: AIMZ, CHAINZ, TRACY STANTON
AUTHOR: MIKE S.
George Cassidy: Well that was boring, I literally fell asleep.
Truth Waters: What are you talking about Cassidy, just because it lacks the sexual perversion that you’re used doesn’t make it boring.
George Cassidy: It lacked anything at all, seeing as GBJ didn’t show! I was looking forward to some more Garbage. Speaking of sexual perversion though, I’m getting word that Chainz has caught up to Aimz once again. Damn that girl is slow.
Aimz runs through a door and as if by magic she’s standing inside of Chainz’s locker room. Chainz comes inside laughing.
Chainz: Not the brightest girl in the world huh?
Tracy emerges from the bathroom fixing her hair as she walks out. Her eyes light up as she sees both Aimz and Chainz breathing hard and ready to fight.
Tracy: What’s going on?
Aimz: Your fiancé is trying to rape me; it gets kinda lame after a while…
Chainz: Nuh uh, she’s fibbing.
Aimz: You sick fuck! You tried to rape me!
Chainz: You need it, Darcy ain’t giving it to you at home. Plus I need to give you my gift so you can be like me.
Tracy: Michael!
Aimz: I always got told not to accept gifts from strang---
Chainz lunges at Aimz and tries to grab her, but Aimz shoves Tracy in the way and Chainz ends up tearing a piece of her shirt off.
Tracy: Ugh, what are you doing?!
Aimz lunges at Chainz, but Tracy is in the way and he tears off some more of her shirt. Chainz grabs the remainder of the shirt and rips it off of Tracy. He wraps it around Aimz’s neck and starts choking her.
Tracy: Damn it, that was one of my favorite shirts Michael!
Aimz gets her knee in between her and Chainz and shoves him off of her. Chainz tumbles to the ground and reaches out as he does; grabbing Tracy’s skirt and ripping it right off her body in the process.
Tracy: AHHH!!!
Tracy is left standing in her skimpy bra and panties as Chainz gets up from the ground.
Chainz: Damn whore, look what you did. You ruined my girl’s clothes.
Aimz grabs a chair and throws it at Chainz connecting with a direct shot to his face. She smiles and she grabs Tracy’s bra from behind and rips it off her body. Tracy covers her chest before the camera can see anything. Aimz throws the bra at Chainz who snatches it and smells it. As he does Aimz kicks him in the balls again sending him to the ground.
Tracy runs back into the bathroom screaming that she got stripped once again. Aimz chuckles and leaves as Chainz mumbles on the ground. He slowly gets up and follows her once more.
Truth Waters: This is turning out to be the beating that Chainz deserves.
George Cassidy: That’s just not right, all of the men in the arena are in pain from those three shots to Chainz’s jewels.
Truth Waters: Please, he deserves everything he gets.
George Cassidy: I guess.
Truth Waters: Tracy, on the other hand... mmm...
FEATURING: ADAM DICK, DAVID "PEARL" HARBER
AUTHOR: PIERRE HYDE
Adam Dick: Shitting fuckgay!
Pearl: Hmm?
Pearl’s office, backstage. Dick comes in, pushing the door so hard it slams against the filing cabinet behind it and knocks several folders off the top. David Harber keeps calm, though; an interesting contrast with the Face-Eater’s highly irritated aura.
Adam Dick: It’s a conspiracy! Garbage isn’t even here; how was he supposed to contest that match with Wade?
Pearl: Obviously, he considered a visit to that day spa more important than defending your crown for you...
Harber casts his eyes up to the crown perched precariously upon Dick’s angry head, eyes twinkling. Dick jabs a finger close to Harber’s face.
Adam Dick: YOU did this!
Pearl: Not at all. You’re just gonna have to suck it up and go out there---
Adam Dick: No. I won’t be disrespected like that – I won’t let GBJ be disrespected like that! I want that match wiped from the records! He can face Wade on Fresh! instead.
Pearl: I’ll wipe the match from the records, sure – but only if you’ll agree to face Mike Wade tonight, anyway.
Adam Dick: For th---
Pearl: For the title.
Adam Dick: So you’d---
Pearl: Wipe his loss, yes – put Garbage Bag Johnny pack to eleven-and-oh.
Dick rolls his eyes. He’s in a no-win situation here. He needs to keep GBJ in his good books; that’s all Part of the Plan. Eleven wins, no losses is a lot more mighty than he’s ever managed himself; he doesn’t want to compromise the larger picture by being responsible for the first blot on Johnny’s record.
Adam Dick: Fine. I’ll take it. But I don’t like it.
Pearl: (coolly) You only like it when you’re calling the shots... so now, you’re shooting the calls. But I’ve learnt my lesson well. You’re facing Wade tonight, for that title. End of.
FEATURING: SASHA VOLKYEVA
AUTHOR: ???
It was coming toward the end of the night and Sasha Volkyeva was visibly tired. It had been a long day, and things had not gone as smoothly as she would have liked tonight. It would have been no great surprise if no one at all had signed up for her branch of the show.
She massaged her temples with one hand as she approached the signup sheet. Pearl’s side of the tour had all the usual faces on it. Maybe her hardball approach was not the way forward? She scan read the sheet… with a sigh of relief, the list was adequate, in length at least.
Wait…
It could not possibly be.
She flicked her head as if to shake out the proverbial cobwebs.
The letters still remained…
GA
The same letters that she received the other week…
What, or I suppose now who, this GA character is was the only thing Sasha could think of… there was no wrestler called GA? No one even had those initials? It had to be some sort of joke from Pearl.
GA…
GA…
The two letters revolved around her skull, repeating like a salient part in a novel – the denouement, or some other twist.
She now had someone on her tour, or at least she thought it was someone, she had never met, heard of, seen or any other tangible means of discovery.
This tour was going to be hell… or was it?
Sasha Volkyeva: I need some sleep…
She spoke as if an audience was watching her every word – she was alone, she knew it. She hated it. She hated it. She wouldn’t show it. She couldn’t, could she?
GA… the letters occupied her thoughts… as she strode away…
Who are you, she wondered.
Who, or indeed, what...
Adam Dick (c) vs Mike Wade
STIPULATION: SINGLES
REFEREE: MICHAEL RYAN
AUTHOR: PIERRE HYDE
James Brunt: The following is a singles match, for the AWC Transatlantic championship!
Truth Waters: It’s time, Cassidy! We’re going to see Adam Dick versus Mike Wade! A dream “impossible” match-up for so long, will somehow come to fruition! In j---
“Image Of The Invisible”, by Thrice.
George Cassidy: Er, Truth, isn’t that...
Truth Waters: That’s The Unfuckables’ theme music! That hasn’t been heard since the team split!
George Cassidy: They’re coming out together!
Dick and Wade stride through the curtain simultaneously from either side, not looking at each other and staring impassively at the ring ahead of them as they slowly walk towards it.
James Brunt: Er, introducing the challenger... Mike Wade... and the Transatlantic champion... Adam Dick!
Dick and Wade simultaneously climb into the ring and simultaneously take their stances and simultaneously look at each other. Simultaneously, the music cuts out and the bell rings. Wade advances.
Truth Waters: I'm not quite sure what to exp---
George Cassidy: FINGER POKE OF DOOM! Dick just hit Wade with the Finger Poke Of Doom!
Dick makes the cover:
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Truth Waters: NO! NO! NO!
The Unfuckables stand... and embrace.
FEATURING: CHAINZ, AIMZ
AUTHOR: MIKE S.
George Cassidy: What a great match that was! Amazing! The Unfuckables are back and ready to run riot over AWC again!
Truth Waters: It was despic--- wait! I’m getting word that Chainz and Aimz are running riot right now!
Once again the cameras cut to the parking lot where Aimz and Chainz are fight. They seem to be a lot more serious now though; Chainz is no longer smiling and is landing some brutal blows.
Chainz: You’re still holding back, can’t you see I’m doing this for your own good.
Chainz grabs Aimz by the hair and throws her on top of a car and buries an elbow in her stomach.
Chainz: Fight me, show me the demon inside. Show me what you’re made of.
Aimz: OK, but that’s all I’m showing you.
A kick to the face shows Chainz what she’s made of. Aimz jumps down and spears Chainz into another car, breaking a window in the process. She takes Chainz down to the ground and grabs a piece of glass and slices his arm as he tries to defend himself. Aimz gets up and opens the trunk of a nearby car, obviously her own. She pulls out a tire iron and as Chainz rises to his feet she hits him in the back with all her force. Chainz grabs his back and stumbles about.
Truth Waters: Good god, his back could be shattered from that blow!
George Cassidy: Come on Chainz, teach that bitch a lesson and show us some tits.
Chainz turns around and is nailed in the head with the tire iron. He drops and is mounted by Aimz who begins throwing punches into her nemesis, but to her chagrin he just smiles. She stops and looks at her bloodied hands and the crimson mask that used to Chainz’s face.
Chainz: I knew you had it in you.
She punches him once more and gets off of him. She looks stunned at what she’s done as she quickly runs to her car. She gets inside and drives off, but before she exits the parking lot she stops. Quickly she returns and gets out of the car.
Aimz: Fuck you.
She kicks Chainz in the balls once again before she gets into her car and drives off leaving a bloody and wounded Chainz rolling around the parking lot in pain.
Chainz: Well at least she’s learning.
George Cassidy: Learning, what did she learn?
Truth Waters: I don’t know Cassidy, that Chainz is a sick freak and nothing he does makes sense?
George Cassidy: Sigh, and no titties…
FEATURING: ADAM DICK, MIKE WADE, DAVID "PEARL" HARBER, AWC
AUTHOR: FERGUS
To say that the crowd is unhappy would be a little bit of an understatement. In fact, that statement is understated. Right now, it looks like the front five rows are getting ready to rip those barricades away and re-enact the riot that the Unfuckables caused many months ago. Adam and Mike are standing in the ring, giving each other a hug and standing triumphant, their trickery having won out again.
George Cassidy: (wiping tear) It's pure beauty...
Truth Waters: You make me sick, just like them.
George Cassidy: I don't care... this is bliss.
The Unfuckables are right up against the barricades now, Dick parading the ringside area and flaunting his crown. Wade meanwhile is baiting the crowd, dancing and hollering at them. The two men get to the rampway when 'Bohemian Like You' by the Dandy Warhols hits the PA.
Truth Waters: Looks like Pearl is gonna have something to say about this!
George Cassidy: What can he do?
Truth Waters: Rematch.
George Cassidy: Which will do what exactly?
Truth Waters: I don't know...
George Cassidy: I win!
To enormous cheers, Harber strides out from the back, in no mood to entertain such absolute disgrace.
Pearl: No, this is not going to happen. I've put with so much of your bullshit over God knows how long and I'm sick of it. I've put up with riots, trickery and all sorts... but a wrecking of the main event of Divide And Conquer? Not a chance!
The Unfuckables shout towards Harber, mocking him and saying he can do nothing about it.
Pearl: You think you've got it all figured out huh? Well, let's see. Michael? (pointing) Your job here is done for the evening, thank you.
Michael Ryan looks slightly confused as to what's going on, but doesn't argue. He makes his way, looking disgustedly at the pair as he heads out.
George Cassidy: Hah! He's given up! He recognises there's no way they can have a match now.
Truth Waters: But what the hell is gonna happen? Don't let this be a stripping Pearl, not a stripping of the title.
Pearl: Now, you two have clearly shown your uncooperative nature... however I think I know one person who can keep this thing going.
The Entertainment Manager looks towards the entrance and almost immediately the response is forthcoming. Jack Murphy strides out onto the rampway, nicely decked out in a full referee suit.
Pearl: So, I think you gentlemen know your special guest referee so I think we should get on with it now. Standard match for the Transatlantic championship, pinfall or submission. No need for introductions again James, let's just get this one going. These people paid for a main event and they are going to get one!
Truth Waters: This match is on!
The crowd roars its approval as the Unfuckables look to each other, conspiring already to try and figure this one out. Murphy meanwhile strides forward, getting right up to them. The two men look at Murphy and are about to take shots when a commotion from the entrance is seen. As the camera switches, the entire locker room empties out onto the stage, forming a semi-circle behind Murphy.
Truth Waters: Look at that! Each and every AWC star packed at the top of the ramp, backing up Murphy so that this match will happen. Dick and Wade are freaked out!
George Cassidy: This is blatantly unfair!
Truth Waters: This is the only way it'll be fair!
The Unfuckables try to make a break for it but the locker room surges forward, corralling to the two men into the ring. Both of them try to scale the barricades but wrestlers like Darcy Crisis and Vince Jones bring them crashing back to earth and into the ring. Finally the entire ringside area is closed off by the locker room, with Murphy standing tall in the centre of the ring, hands on hips as Adam and Mike slump in opposite corners.
Pearl: Gentlemen?
The Unfuckables turn to the stage.
Pearl: (smiling) Good luck.
'Bohemian Like You' hits the PA once more and the crowd is rabid for the turn of events, shaking the barricades and waiting for the match to begin.
Truth Waters: What a start and this match hasn't begun!
George Cassidy: It should be over already!
Truth Waters: Well we're about to find out everyone the one thing that's been preying on people's minds over the past weeks... who is the better Unfuckable? Adam Dick, the Illustrious Face-Eater? Or Mike Wade, the Grand Slam hopeful?
Adam Dick (c) vs Mike Wade
STIPULATION: SINGLES - SPECIAL GUEST REFEREE
REFEREE: JACK MURPHY
AUTHOR: FERGUS
Murphy looks to Brunt at ringside and he derives so much pleasure from calling for the bell. The Bull paces the ring and first of all lifts Adam off of his feet. The King of AWC takes an objection to this and promptly punches Murphy in the face. The former champion doesn't take too kindly and elbows Adam forcefully, letting him know what the story is for this evening's contest. Wade is about to sneak up and mount a double team attempt but Murphy is able to turn round to see Wade skulking back into his own corner.
Truth Waters: Well, this is going to be interesting. It doesn't look like Adam wants to fight.
George Cassidy: And why should he? These two are blood brothers, how can you hit a blood brother?
The tension of the crowd is paramount and the locker room surrounding the ring makes it all the more explosive. Both men know they can't go anywhere until there's a winner... but neither of them want to be a loser. Seeing this could go on for a bit, Murphy offers them a simple solution. As he mouths a phrase to the two of them, Adam's mouth opens, followed by a distinct 'sorry' to Wade. Mike has no problems as the two of them collide in the centre of the ring.
George Cassidy: What did he say? What did he say?
Truth Waters: Pretty straightforward Cassidy.... either they find a winner in a fair way... or Murphy and the rest of the locker room will do it for them!
Lefts and rights, rights and lefts hammer into the two stablemates. No love is lost as the two fight for their respective goals. Dick is the first to get the upper hand, sweeping Mike right off of his feet to the canvas. Face-Eater follows up with some elbows to the gut and kicks, trying to break down Wade as quickly as possible and get this over with.
Truth Waters: Dick looks like he's in a hurry.
George Cassidy: Course he is, he doesn't want to have to hurt Mike Wade. This going to be as quick and as painless as possible for him. Because let's face it, Mike just isn't in the same league as Adam.
Truth Waters: Off the fence now then are we?
George Cassidy: I was never on the fence!
Truth Waters: I don't know, about two minutes ago you were professing that they wouldn't hurt each other because they were 'blood brothers.' What's happened to that now? Doesn't look like blood brothers.
George Cassidy: Shut up.
Truth Waters: Case in point.
George Cassidy: I said shut it!
Adam picks his partner off the canvas, whipping him into the ropes. Wade bounces back from them, right into a knee to the gut. He slumps but doesn't fall, instead grabbing the leg and dragon-screwing Dick to the mat. The crowd pops at the move, clearly in favour of Mike Wade on this night. He kicks right at the held leg and the champion winces in pain. Wade goes to slug Dick right in the face, but an eye poke halts that transaction. Murphy is right on it and barks at Dick who merely sneers at the comments.
Truth Waters: Blatant cheating.
George Cassidy: It's the Unfuckables, what do you expect?
With Wade on the floor and not looking to get up any time soon, Adam saunters over, casually covering him.
ONE!
That's all he gets though as Wade powers out of the cover and back onto his feet. He's still a little blurred however in the vision stakes as you can he isn't quite sure where to look. Laughing, Adam picks his spots and reducing the Wade Parade to mush on the canvas, cradling himself and biding time for his vision to return fully.
George Cassidy: Come on Adam!
Truth Waters: Alright you can pick your favourites but you're supposed to try and be impartial Cassidy!
George Cassidy: Yeah right!
Wade begins to push himself off of the mat, but Dick is unrelenting in his punishment. He grabs Mike roughly by the hair and locks him in with a front-facelock. A couple of knees to the gut are forthcoming, with Wade trying to evade them as best he can in such a position. Dick is happy enough slowing the pace down to this level, but he doesn't count on the Swervy one when Wade lifts Dick up and over in a spinebuster fashion. The dump to the ground is sickening and the crowd oohs at the move.
Truth Waters: Wade fighting back as best he can folks.
Both men scrabble to their feet and it's clear Wade has shook off the effects of the eye poke by his quick punch to the face of Adam. He recoils into the ropes and Wade uses the momentum to get a whip into the corner as hard as he can. Adam's spine jolts into the turnbuckle and he comes back out holding his back in pain, only to be met by a storming clothesline from Wade.
Truth Waters: Listen to this crowd! They're giving their all for Wade!
George Cassidy: They're so goddamned fickle these ingrates.
Truth Waters: You changed your mind oh... about five-ten minutes ago about Wade, what can you say?
George Cassidy: Technicalities.
Truth Waters: Huh?
George Cassidy: I call technicalities.
Truth Waters: Right...
Wade is pumped by the crowd. Some of the wrestlers on the outside are even chanting along, urging Wade to finally finish off the self-proclaimed King of AWC. He is conscious of the need to press the advantage that's for certain as he pulls Adam to his feet. Whipping him hard again, Mike backs him into the corner. He mounts the second rope, attacking with punch after punch after punch to the face of Dick. Murphy is right there with them though and he counts, however reluctantly, to get Wade to stop. This he does so, only to get punked out by the Face-Eater.
Truth Waters: This match is going to go the distance here for the rest of the evening and it doesn't matter how long it takes folks, we're staying live until it finishes!
George Cassidy: Of course we are! Why would we quit the crowning glory of the fed, the Unfuckables?
Truth Waters: There's plenty of detractors about that statement...
George Cassidy: Well, name one?
Truth Waters: Ellis Nash.
George Cassidy: That is true...
Truth Waters: Garbage Bag Johnny.
George Cassidy: I already got the point after the first one you dolt!
Murphy admonishes Dick again who proceeds to spit right in his face.
George Cassidy: Sweet retribution! Thank you Adam!
The Bull is not happy one bit and looks to attack. He relents however, understanding his duties as a referee. In a moment's thought he finds an alternative however as he shoves Adam right out of the ring. Dick stands up, to find several people who will gladly do the job for Jack.
George Cassidy: How's that for impartial!
Truth Waters: I didn't see anything.
George Cassidy: They're all beating the crap out of him, Mike Wade should be disqualified.
Truth Waters: Seems like it's a lumberjack match to me...
George Cassidy: What? Now you're making it up!
Regardless of who's right, right now Adam Dick is being pounded on by Darcy Crisis, Aimz, Red Rock and several others of the locker room, each of them enjoying the chance to get a little revenge on the man. This is broken up however... but not by what you'd expect.
Truth Waters: Well it loo--- OH MY GOD!!!
George Cassidy: NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!
Wade has come crashing from off screen with a suicide dive from the top, crushing Dick and the others in one foul swoop. The crowd explodes, cheering even harder for Wade and they roar when he is the first one on his feet. He acknowledges the crowd with a thumbs up before rolling Dick back into the ring. A cover quickly follows.
ONE!
TWO!
No more though as the champion manages to halt the grand slam hopes of Mike Wade. Not at all frustrated, Wade picks his longtime partner off the mat and continues the attack. Swift punches are followed by a snap suplex. Holding on Wade goes for another one, bringing the pain and the dominance. It takes a low blow from Dick to stop his momentum, bringing it to a crashing halt.
George Cassidy: Now that's how to do it!
Dick sneers at the boos and then breathes heavily in the ring, regaining his composure after the explosive outburst from Wade. He brings the tempo down again, slowing it to a crawl as he locks on a sleeper in the centre of the ring.
Truth Waters: The champion here is limiting Wade from being able to take his exuberant style to get into gear. Dick is clearly well aware of how unstoppable his former partner can be.
George Cassidy: I think Adam knows something we don't as he seems to be cackling madly in this sleeper. Perhaps Wade is weak against the submission?
Truth Waters: Maybe he's picked up an injury recently and Adam's right on to exploit it. Murphy is checking Wade again and takes the hand. He raises it...
George Cassidy: That's one Truth!
Truth Waters: He's going for it again...
George Cassidy:TWO! HAHA! Bye bye MR. WADE!
The crowd is booing again as Dick looks about ready to reclaim his crown and continue his reign of terror. The spark left in Wade is strong however and he powers up off his feet before the third drop happens, electrifying the crowd once more. He shrugs Dick off of him and begins trading blows with him again. The crowd is getting into it and calls for Wade to bring it home.
He gets a kick to the gut, just what he wants.
And what follows is the TFW.
The crowd explodes.
Hell the locker room explodes.
A cover.
ONE!
TWO!
NO!
Truth Waters: No way! He kicked out of the TFW?!
George Cassidy: Oh yes he did!
And then it all goes down the tubes.
Dick is the first up, followed by a kick to the gut of Mike Wade.
The Eaterplex '05.
A cover.
ONE!
TWO!
NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!
The crowd is like a bomb going off. The noise is so loud that it's impossible to hear Truth and George's reactions beyond their own screaming into the mic. As Adam Dick looks shocked by the moment, his eyes glaze over with rage. He violently picks up his former partner and goes to finish him off once and for all with another Eaterplex.
No such luck.
A roll-up by Wade.
ONE!
Reversed by Dick.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
The crowd is instantly deflated as the King returns to his throne, his crown intact.
George Cassidy: HE WINS!
Truth Waters: Dick… won with… a roll-up pin…!
Dick falls off of Wade and literally flakes out. Murphy is sickened to have to have counted but makes no bones about it. He gets the crown from James Brunt, who is refusing to call out the name of Adam. Murphy drops the crown onto Adam's stomach and leaves the ring, leading the rest of the locker room out of the arena.
Truth Waters: Look at this Cassidy, the locker room is showing its distaste for Adam Dick. They're leaving the arena without congratulating him.
George Cassidy: He doesn't need them Truth, he's got the one thing that matters: his crown!
Both men are now lying on the mat. Both exhausted. Both completely and utterly spent from the match. Sure it wasn't a technical classic... but it came from the heart.
FEATURING: DAVID "PEARL" HARBER, SASHA VOLKYEVA, MIKE WADE, AWC
AUTHORS: PIERRE HYDE AND MIKE
“Wait, all of you! Don’t go yet!”
The voice is Pearl’s, appearing at the curtain to halt the Murphy-led army of dissent’s march from ringside.
“There is just one little thing first...”
And this voice is that of Sasha Volkyeva, walking out behind him.
Truth Waters: What’s this?! Pearl and Sasha cooperating?!
George Cassidy: On a night that’s nominally about precisely the opposite!
Harber and Volkyeva stand at the head of the ramp and wave the roster back to the ring; gradually they all move back to surround the ring in which Dick and Wade are just starting to get to their feet in opposite corners. Jack Murphy mounts the ring steps and leans on the turnbuckle, watching both, particularly Dick, like a hawk. Pearl and Sasha walk down the ramp as if having parted the sea, side by side for one moment at least, because for all their enmity, unity is crucial to make the following as special as it should be.
Pearl: In one week’s time...
Harber starts to speak, and pauses as he steps up onto the apron, retaining his gentlemanly traits to hold up the rope for Sasha to enter the ring. He then does so himself.
Pearl: ...it will be five months to the day since I made Pierce Lavelle the first AWC Legend.
Harber looks up... not at Adam Dick, but at Mike Wade. And in just a second, the roar is deafening. A slow smile begins to spread across the face of His Swerviness. Pearl brings the microphone to his lips, but just tosses it aside and spreads his arms to give Wade an enormous hug.
Truth Waters: He doesn’t need to put it into words! Mike Wade is a Legend, and we all know it.
George Cassidy: Oh yes.
Sasha Volkyeva watches with a smile, clapping slowly. The commentators, having adjudged the moment sufficiently poignant to stop speaking over it, do the same. The roster members surrounding the ring pick up on this, giving Wade a round of applause. Moments later, the fans join in, and Wade has thousands of people united in solemn applause for him. Adam Dick isn’t clapping. He’s the only one.
James Brunt enters the ring, and holds out both his hands to Wade as the man who went so close to picking up his AWC Grand Slam breaks apart from David Harber, so often his enemy in his AWC tenure. Brunt’s hands are laden: his left contains Wade’s gold Roll of Legends medal; the right, a microphone. The wrestlers outside the ring begin to chant: ”SPEECH! SPEECH! SPEECH!”
A speech, they’ll get.
Mike Wade: What do you say to something like this? How can you possibly start? I look at Pierce Lavelle, a man who literally dominated AWC, and see that he is the man inducted before me. How can I follow that? A former two-time Transatlantic champion, something I could ever only dream about. I look on myself as always the bridesmaid, never the bride and maybe that's why I'm here, maybe it's part of my charm I don't know. Whatever it is that got me here doesn't matter – the fact is I'm standing here before you accepting the greatest honour I never thought would be bestowed upon me. Being inducted to the AWC Roll of Legends means more to me then anything I've ever won in my life. Simply because this means the acceptance of my peers. For any occupation that is the greatest compliment one can get. Whether you be a professional athlete or a dustman.
Mike Wade: As everyone knows by now I am retiring from active competition. To receive this honour on my final night makes me want to shed tears, but I won't do that. What else can I say? Look at this my crowning moment and I finally get lost for words! I just want to thank Adam Dick, my partner since the start, if it weren’t for him I would never be here. He instilled in me the confidence to go on to win not one but three titles all at once and make me think that I deserved to be in that spot. For that I can never repay him.
Wade pauses, looking tentatively up at the Face-Eater. Facey stares back – and then, finally, begins to clap. Adam Dick smiles. Wade smiles wider.
Mike Wade: To Paddy O’Shea for having the best feud of my career with me and for making up with me after all we've been through, he knows what I mean. To everyone who believed in me and thought that I was the slightest bit talented - I thank you from the bottom of my heart.
Mike Wade: My insecurities forced me to quit PRIME before and nearly the business, I've battled with them throughout my career and they almost drove me out of AWC, but now tonight I go on my own terms. To those of you who begrudged me, I'm gonna take the high road. In closing I ask only one thing of all of you. My biggest fear is to be forgotten, with this unbelievable honour I think that will not happen, never forget the stupid things I've done and said and remember that AWC will forever be my home. My words, no matter how long or thought out cannot do justice to what I feel inside right now on achieving this honour. Thank you all, good night, God bless and goodbye.
Wade hands Pearl the microphone and raises his arms to the crowd as fireworks go off on the stage – green, orange and gold, for Mike Wade, His Swerviness, the second of the AWC Legends.
James Brunt: Ladies and gentlemen... inducted into the AWC Roll of Legends... MIKE WADE!
The perfect end to an imperfect night.
But it’s not the end.
FEATURING: ???
AUTHOR: PIERRE HYDE
The sign-up sheet, again. It’s adorned with black scribbles, signatures, crossings-out, corrections. Some fans are pressed against their TV screens, trying to decipher the names; they don’t need to worry, they’ll be up on the website in due course. According to plan – not like many things tonight.
But nevertheless, it’s been a good night. Spontaneity, crudity, destruction, shock, blood, sweat and garbage. We’ve overrun significantly, but fortunately pay-per-view allows us to keep broadcasting. Which is more than fortunate. Because things are, for the umpteenth time tonight, about to not go according to plan, and people would be angry if they’d missed it.
A shadow falls across the noticeboard.
A hand enters the visible field, then a forearm – a relatively freshly scarred forearm.
The permanent marker has its lid removed with a POP!
The hand positions the pen against the paper... deliberates between the two sides. Then over on the left side of the page, right at the bottom, still virgin white, untouched and unsmudged, slowly and carefully stencils a “P”.
It’s large. Far larger than anyone else has written; it’d have to be, for us to read it this easily.
The “P” by itself isn’t all that interesting. What’s interesting is what the writer follows it with. Going right across the page, spanning left to right, West and East Atlantic, he writes: “I”. “E”. “R”. “C”. “E”. “L”. “A”. “V”. “E”. “L”. “L”. “E”.