WICKED - DVD TAPING #14 - From The Pure Arena 07/07/2016
Jun 25, 2016 1:08:17 GMT
Annabel Lee likes this
Post by The BombTrax on Jun 25, 2016 1:08:17 GMT
Live From The Pure Arena
Purity, LA
Thursday, July 7th, 2016 at 10 pm CST
Pure Amusement Wrestling
Proudly Presents:
BEFORE CURTAIN
Opening Bout
Singles Match
Annabel Lee versus Rachel Ellsworth
PERCY: So we're ready to delve right into the show this week in what I'm sure will be an exciting match up.
CAT: I'll be the judge of that, Percy. Now shut up so that Rhonda can do her thing.
RHONDA ARMSTRONG: The following contest is your Opening Bout of the evening, and is a singles match scheduled for one fall or submission.....
As the opening notes of “Best Day of My Life” hit the sound system Annabel appears at the entrance, a glowing smile plastered across her face as she starts down the aisle toward the ring.
RHONDA ARMSTRONG: Introducing first, weighting in at 121 pounds, and hailing from Portland, Oregon....ANNABEL LEE!!
Annabel can't help but start to dance along with the music about half way to the ring. She slaps a few hands before rolling in under the bottom rope and springing up to her feet. Pressing the fingertips of both hands to her lips, she blows a big kiss out to the audience and bounces up and down in her corner, loosening up for the match.
PERCY: Annabel Lee had a very successful debut last show when she defeated Roy Baker in what many would say was an upset.
CAT: Yeah, but now she's taking on a woman who's proved herself a thousand times over in Rachel Ellsworth, and we'll just have to see how bubbly she is when 'The Atomic Redhead' bashes her teeth down her throat.
Right on cue...
The chorus of 'Infra-Red' by Placebo plays as orange and red lights wash over the arena, the crowd cheering raucously for the young woman that is about to emerge. Not the sort to cool her heels backstage for long, Rachel Ellsworth steps through the curtain and onto the ramp, a mischievous smile on her lips that promises nothing good for the poor sap that's in the ring with her tonight. The feisty little redhead raises her fists above her head as she looks out over the crowd, garnering their support while also revving herself up for the match to come. This movement triggers a v-shaped formation of white pyros to go off behind her.
RHONDA ARMSTRONG: And introducing her opponent, coming to us from Cochranton, Pennsylvania, and weighting in at 154 pounds, she is 'The Atomic Redhead' RACHEL ELLSWORTH!!!
Heading down the ramp at a leisurely-enough pace to interact with the fans as she goes, she makes her way into the ring via sliding beneath the bottom rope. Heading over to the nearest turnbuckle, she mounts it and continues eating up the cheers that she's getting from the fans. Ultimately, though, she has to hop down and get ready for her match... and that is exactly what she does, doing a few stretches that could be considered provocative if one has a thing for rudimentary calisthenics.
PERCY: From what I hear, it was a huge check mark for Lady Munin when she signed Rachel Ellsworth. You know how she feels about the strong female dynamic.
CAT: Being one herself, that's not surprising. I'm excited to see what the Pocket Sized Dislocation Machine can do here in PAW.
A-Ref goes over the rules briefly, and then calls for the bell. Rather than start things off as most contests go, Annabel Lee marches to the center of the ring, and with a huge innocent smile, offers her hand to Rachel. Ellsworth looks down at the appendage for a second, cocks her head to the side, and then shrugs. She reaches out, taking Annabel by the hand, and gives it a good shake before releasing. Annabel almost appears giddy as she grins out the crowd, who clap for the show of good sportsmanship, a rarity here in PAW. Just as Annabel returns her focus to Rachel, However, Ellsworth answers that innocent smile with a strike right across her mouth. Annabel stumbles back shocked, and she looks up at the fiery red head, who only smirks and shrugs again, right before charging her with a boot to the midsection, and hooks her head to perform a perfectly executed singing neck breaker that sends both of them crashing down to the mat.
PERCY: WELCOME TO PAW ANNABEL LEE AND RACHEL ELLSWORTH!
CAT: That'll teach that greenhorn to dial back the enthusiasm!
Rachel swiftly rolls Lee over onto her back, and hooks her leg for a cover.
1...
2...
PERCY: Thre-KICK OUT! Big impact from the start, but still to early to gain the win that easily.
CAT: A few more moves like that, and it won't be.
Ellsworth , showing the patience that comes of experience, stays on Annabel, applying an arm wringer to pull Lee back to standing. The Atomic Redhead throws a few elbows to Lee’s arm, whips her by it, holds on , pulls Lee back in, sweeps the leg for a takedown and collapses into an armbar. Annabel lays stunned for a moment, pain in her arm obvious by the look on her face. She tries all she can to adjust position, doing whatever possible to relieve the pressure, but Rachel is one step ahead, keeping the pressure locked in tight. A-Ref goes to check on Lee just as she gets some leverage with her feet and rolls herself and Ellsworth into a ball, putting the vet’s shoulders on the mat.
1…
2…
Kickout!
PERCY: Ellsworth getting caught off guard by the rookie Annabel Lee for just a moment there, wisely releases the hold and get’s out of that pin.
CAT: That was a decent attempt at a reversal, but Lee still finding herself on the receiving end of most of the actual wrestling going on up there. She’s not careful, she might find herself hanging out with the Lost Boyz.
The Atomic Redhead looks appraisingly at Annabel Lee, both women having returned to standing. Ellsworth shoots in on Lee and grabs a standing headlock, cinching it in tight, using her extra height over Lee to pull her up and really make her carry all her weight on her neck. A push to the ropes bring Annabel Lee running at Rachel Ellsworth, who matches her run and takes her down to the mat with the Lou Thez Press, raining down blows to the unprotected head and face of Annabel Lee. Before too long A-Ref is there to call Rachel off, an order she complies with, though after a moment of consideration. Lee is still down on the mat though, and Rachel has no trouble following up with hard stomps to the arms and knees of Annabel Lee
PERCY: Ellsworth looking like she intends to pick apart Annabel Lee, going after arms and now the legs. If she keeps it up it’s a good strategy, forces Lee to try and guess what she’ll attack next.
CAT: Also sets up for the Red(head) Death down the line, something I know Annabel Lee wants no part of. Course, best I can tell what she does want a part of is sunshine and rainbows, so perhaps this lesson will be good for her.
Ellsworth backs off the stomps and drops down to a knee, delivering straight rights into Annabel Lee’s thigh. The second generation grappler grimaces in pain as the strikes seem to have their intended effect of knotting up Lee’s legs, letting out a scream of pain when ‘The Atomic Redhead’ Rachel Ellsworth transitions into a one-legged Boston Crab. Lee immediately tries to fight to the ropes, but the larger Ellsworth drags her back into the center of the ring. Lee continues to yell out, but shakes her head when A-Ref asks if she gives up. Rachel keeps the hold a moment longer, before letting go and rising up to deliver a stomp to the back of Lee’s thigh. Ellsworth pulls the smaller woman from the mat to her feet, and hits the ropes, charging in to hit another swinging neckbreaker, but Lee pushes out of the catch, nails The Atomic Redhead with a spinning kick to the head. Ellsworth is sent backpedaling into the ropes, rebounding off and into a second spinning kick. Rachel drops to her knees, eyes glazed over, as Lee hits the ropes and takes her all the way to the mat with a shining wizard.
PERCY: AnnaBELL Ringer followed up by a shining wizard, that’s a huge combination, and could be what Lee needs to get into this match.
CAT: What she needs is to make a cover, try and steal one while the vet isn’t looking.
Lee takes a moment to catch her breath as she lays on the mat post shining wizard, finally rolling over to make the cover.
1…
2…
Kickout!
PERCY: Rachel Ellsworth once again out at two.
CAT: Told you she needed to make the cover. Catch your breath when you’re dead, you got a match to win.
Lee takes a moment to look at A-Ref, begging with her eyes for a three count, but of course none is forthcoming. She reaches down grab Rachel Ellsworth and pull her to standing, keeping her hold on the arm and delivering a short arm clothesline into a somersault. The hold is kept and a second clothesline delivered, followed by a kip up. A third is attempted, but Ellsworth blocks with her free hand, slaps Lee across the face, pulls her arm free and engulfs Annabel Lee, snap suplexing her with authority to the mat.
CAT: Ellsworth is good at taking control here, especially after Annabel telegraphed that last clothesline. Rachel really putting Lee through her paces and making her pay for showing off. Just hit the damn move!
PERCY: Lee is refusing to give up or stop fighting, but it’s been The Atomic Redhead in the driver’s seat for the majority of this match so far. Looks like now she’s got Lee on the mat again Rachel’s going to transition back to a mat game.
A few stomps to the gut keep Lee from getting her wind back, followed up by an elbow drop to the sternum from Ellsworth. The Atomic Redhead pulls Annabel Lee upto a sitting position and delivers a trio of elbows right between the shoulder blades. Ellsworth shoots in and fights Lee into an underhook, before sitting back and locking in the Scarlet Fever.
PERCY: That Scarlet Fever hold is brutal,working the arm and head, and just plain hard to escape from.
CAT: Annabel Lee keeps finding herself in these tricky holds, center of the ring. She’s got to pay more attention to where she is, or she’ll wear herself out. Don’t blow up, rook!
Lee yells once again, fighting Ellsworth to reposition, but having trouble getting out of the grip of the stronger woman. She grits her teeth and shakes her head when A-Ref comes to ask if she gives up, but still can find no escape from the hold. Yelling out once more, Lee gets a leg extended all the way out behind her and begins to push, taking both women to their sides. Rachel is quick to let go of the Scarlet Fever and roll over Lee’s back, locking in a sleeper hold.
PERCY: Out of the frying pan, into the fire, Lee escapes some of The Atomic Redhead’s signature offense only to find herself locked in the sleeper.
CAT: I hope Lee is taking notes, because this is what you want to do to win a match, not showboat and play to the crowd.
Lee struggles against the hold but Rachel Ellsworth has it in tight; soon the fighting fades as the veteran technician locks in the hold to cut off blood flow to the brain. A-Ref checks for a verbal response from Lee and gets none, so he raises the arm and lets it fall to the mat, for a count of one. A second check of the arm yields the same result, the arm flopping to the mat as if nothing more than dead meat. A-Ref lifts the arm a third time and lets it fall, the Pure Arena crowd chanting Ann-a-bel to try and bring her back. Mere inches from the mat the hand stops, and the cheering gets louder as Lee begins fighting her way to standing. Ellsworth tries to redouble he strength on the hold, but a rain of elbows to the midsection from Lee soon put an end to the hold all together. Possessed of a second win and the support of the crowd Lee hits the ropes and comes tearing out to deliver a headscissors to Rachel Ellsworth. As The Atomic Redhead stumbles back to her feet she walks into a second running headscissors, sending her back to the mat. Annabel stalks Ellsworth now, stomping the mat and signalling for the crowd to get louder, a challenge they rise to. Ellsworth is no sooner to her feet and turning to face her opponent than Annabel Lee takes her down with a running sit-out facebuster. Lee goes for the cover.
1…
2…
Th-kickout!
PERCY: Very near fall there for the rookie, she is doing all she can to not just stay in this match but to win it.
CAT: That she is, but all the cheering crowds in the world won’t heal Lee from the stretching she’s been taking. If she doesn’t end it soon, she’s toast.
Lee looks at A-Ref in disbelief, asking him if he’s sure it was only three. A-Ref confirms the two count to her and begins telling her to get back to the match at hand. As Lee tries to bring Ellsworth back off the mat she is instead greeted by a rising European uppercut, sending her stumbling away. Ellsworth is quick to press the attack, laying in a stiff kick to the already abused thigh of Annabel Lee to keep her from pulling away. Rachel is quick to follow up with a double axe handle to Lee’s left shoulder, grabs the arm to apply a wrist lock, and flips Lee into a cross arm breaker.
CAT: Doesn’t always matter how much heart you have. Sometimes, you just need to know the counter, and it doesn’t look like Lee does.
PERCY: Give her credit, Cat, Lee is trying to roll into the hold to relieve the pressure. She doesn’t want to give up.
CAT: No one ever wants to give up, Percy.
Lee sets to rocking back and forth, getting a little higher up each time until finally rolling all the way into the cross arm breaker to stop the pain. Ellsworth is quick to break the hold and roll back to her feet as Lee begins to rise. A soccer kick to the gut takes the wind out of Lee and gives Ellsworth the chance to once more take control. Rachel takes a moment to roll her neck, trying to mitigate the damage done by her young challenger, before hauling Lee up and tossing her to the corner. The Atomic Redhead follows in with a European uppercut and a slap to the face. Rachel get’s right up in Lee’s business, taunting the younger grappler to stop her if she can. Ellsworth backs off a step and comes running in with a charging knee, but Lee drops and Rachel finds herself slamming chest first into the turnbuckle. Lee two hand pushes Ellsworth hard back into the corner, takes a few steps back on unsteady legs, and crushes Rachel with a crossbody to the corner. Lee backrolls to her feet as Ellsworth stumbles out, hits the ropes and catches The Atomic Redhead with her tilt-a-whirl small package roll up.
PERCY: Annie-oop in the middle of the ring!
CAT: No way! Ellsworth’s gotta kick out!
1…
2…
3!Kickout
*Ding*
Ellsworth pops up off the mat to get in A-Ref’s face, the displeasure at her surprise loss evident on her face. Annabel Lee meanwhile looks ecstatic, bouncing up to celebrate, though throwing her arm up in victory seems to hurt her. After a moment Annabel sees the look on Ellsworth’s face as she argues with A-Ref and rolls from the ring.
RHONDA ARMSTRONG: Ladies and Gentlemen, your winner by pinfall, ANNABEEEEELLLLLLL LEEEEEEEE!
Annabel continues up the ramp, slapping hands with the fans until finally reaching the stage. She turns for one last fist pump into the air before disappearing behind the curtain. The scene fades to commercial.
PERCY: And we're back. That was one heck of an opener, wouldn't you say Cat?
CAT: No doubt, but this next match should be interesting in it's own right.
PERCY: That's right. Munin calls this her 'WINNER' match, as both of these men gained victory last show, and are set to duke it out for a higher position on the card.
CAT: Well, what are we waiting for. Take it away Rhonda!
RHONDA ARMSTRONG: This match is scheduled for one fall or submission...
“Courage” by The Minutemen blares out of the speakers and Aokigara Zombie comes out with his hands in the air. He lets out a roar and points at the ring with a wide grin. He struts to the ring and high fives a couple of fans.
RHONDA ARMSTRONG: Coming to the ring first, hailing from Yamanashi, Japan, and weighting in at 230 pounds, here is… AOKIGAHARA ZOMBIE!
CAT: Ooooo, a zombie! Scary.
PERCY: The Martyr himself is here ladies and gentlemen. At Wicked number 13, Zombie and Lex Collins put on what was arguably the match of the night.
CAT: Then why wasn’t it the main event?
PERCY: Because… well because how is anyone supposed to know how the matches are going to turn out before we watch them, Cat?!
CAT: Maybe they’re rigged? Maybe this whole federation is a work. Ever think of that, huh?
PERCY: You’re going to get us fired.
CAT: Whatever. Get back to the whole pre-scripted lead-in to a match that’s obviously been predetermined by phone-in votes a-la American Idol or something.
PERCY: You’re evil…
CAT: Prove me wrong, wrestlers! Prove. Me. Wrong.
PERCY: There’s no teleprompter. This is not scripted. Forget her, folks.
CAT: Impossible.
The arena is silent as the lights dim. Suddenly, there’s the announcement of a motorcycle engine. The sound grows until finally a 1975 Norton Commando emerges from the entrance. Atop the bike is none other than Strick Plissken. He stops on the entrance ramp and lets the engine roar. Some audience members are forced to cover their ears due to the loud pops of the exhaust. Finally, Strick lets loose and the motorcycle roars down the ramp and he brings the bike to an abrupt sliding stop, parallel with the ring apron.
RHONDA ARMSTRONG: Introducing his opponent, hailing from Virginia, and weighting in at 205 pounds... here is SRICK PLISSKEN!
Strick kicks out the kick stand before stepping off of the motorbike. He takes his jacket off and drapes it over the seat. He takes off his rose colored sunglasses and sets them on the speedometer of the bike before walking to the ring steps. He wipes his boots on the ring apron before stepping into the ring. He’s ready to go and it looks like he’s eager to get things done as he waits.
PERCY: Zombie’s opponent tonight, Strick Plisken, similarly pulled off an impressive victory over Nova Wonder on Wicked 13.
CAT: She was robbed.
PERCY: Very possible.
CAT: You admitted it!
PERCY: *sigh* Anyway, tonight, with these two set to go head-to-head, it’s a battle of the undefeateds here at Wicked 14 and only one of these two can remain that way.
CAT: Unless there’s a draw.
PERCY: I-- Well, sure, but--
CAT: Or a double disqualification.
PERCY: Sure, I guess--
CAT: You guess?! Just fess up, Percival. You already know the outcome. This match, like our legal system, is RIGGED.
PERCY: NO I DO NOT KNOW THE OUTCOME! Pity me, folks. Please.
DING! DING!
PERCY: There’s the bell! Let’s see what happens, WHICH I don’t already know, before my announce partner implies that I do.
CAT: More lies.
In the ring, Zombie and Strick step into the center ring and begin the slow, methodical circle of one another. The ring boards rattle and jostle as Strick rolls his neck and puts to use some footwork as Zombie follows him slowly. Strick puts his guard up and lets loose with a straight jab, another, and another quick jab, his fists striking Zombie in the face and rocking his head back.
CAT: Is this a boxing match?
PERCY: Almost looks like it. Strick might be testing the waters a little.
CAT: Doesn’t Zombie like… absorb punishment or something?
PERCY: Again… testing the waters, Cat, means Strick’s feeling his opponent out.
With Strick shifting gears and striking Zombie with a few rights, then lefts, knocking some solid fists into Zombie’s face, Zombie very quickly lunges in for a straight tackle that plows into Strick and lands them both on the canvas. Zombie rises and begins laying fists into Strick in retaliation. Strick lifts his knees and quickly pivots Zombie sideways, laying a fist of his own into Zombie before kicking away and rolling gently back to his feet as Zombie does the same.
CAT: On paper, these two are like the exact same person.
PERCY: Very true, Cat. But might I suggest reading BOTH biographies rather than the same one twice?
CAT: Oh. Touche.
While Cat arranges her research notes and Percy shakes his head in dismay beside her, in the ring Strick has once again taken to taunting Zombie with quick fist strikes, leading Zombie after him either on purpose or haphazardly.
PERCY: Strick keeps dancing with the footwork, though I’m not sure the boxing is having much effect on Zombie.
CAT: How could it? The guy is dead.
Zombie moves in quick for another spear, but Strick is able to get a hold of him and plants a rising knee right into Zombie to straighten him back up then straight-arm clotheslines the Zombie down FLAT and quickly goes in for a cover.
1…
PERCY: Quick kick-out there by Zombie!
Zombie rises slowly with Strick leading him to a stand only to be surprised with a sudden scoop slam that rattles the ring! Zombie wastes no time laying into the fallen Strick with several footstomps, then an elbow drop. Zombie rises to stand in wait as Strick rolls to his knees and glares at Zombie.
CAT: Zombie seems like the type of opponent that would smell, don’t you think he looks like he smells? Like he has a B.O. problem? Don’t you think so, Percy?
PERCY: I don’t smell anything. And I hardly think that’s going to hinder him from combatting Strick, tonight if that were the case, Cat.
CAT: Oh, I don’t doubt it. Maybe the offensive B.O. is what gave him the edge over Lex Collins. Ever think of that? Maybe that’s why he’s as good as he is.
PERCY: The only one who’s being offensive here, Cat is--
CAT: PAY ATTENTION!
Zombie gives the ring a rattle after a wicked DDT on Strick and Zombie methodically drags Strick back to his feet only to be greeted with some seated punches to stagger the Zombie. Strick wastes no time with a sudden jawbreaker that further staggers Zombie backward! Strick climbs to his feet, a little slower than before on account of the DDT but quick enough to charge at Zombie with a running cross-body block that topples the Zombie. Strick hooks the leg for a quick cover!
1..
2...KICKOUT!
CAT: Silly Strick. Zombies don’t die.
PERCY: You’re really taking his name literally.
CAT: Shouldn’t I be?
PERCY: … I… Guess…
CAT: Do you research, Percy. When all else fails, call the match!
Strick rubs his face, and drags Zombie to his feet, laying another couple of punches into Zombie but Zombie quickly grabs Strick’s arm and tosses him to the canvas and doesn’t let go, locking Strick into a fujiwara armbar as soon as he’s down!
PERCY: Dangerous place to be!
CAT: You’re telling me! Strick looks ready to tap out!
PERCY: Close to the ropes! He’s just gotta reach them!
As Strick’s arm is bent at an angry awkward angle, he reaches with his other arm for the ropes just inches away from him. Strick reaches but Zombie TORQUES on the arm harder, wrenching more pain into Strick’s shoulder.
CAT: That looks like it hurts.
PERCY: It should. And it probably does. Akogihara Zombie is a man out for pain tonight!
Zombie wrenches hard on Strick’s arm as Strick muscles through it, powering forward inch by terribly painful inch with his fingers just bouncing off the ropes before he manages to grab the bottom rope and A Ref forces the rope break on Zombie who reluctantly releases Strick’s arms, rolls his neck and comes to a stand to look down on Strick who writhes in pain on the canvas.
CAT: Really wouldn’t want to be the medical tech who looks at Strick’s arm after that.
PERCY: Neither would I. Zombie is a lethal combination of methodical and punishing here now!
Zombie lays into the downed Strick with more vicious stomps that flatten Strick onto the canvas before dropping another elbow right onto Strick’s spine!
PERCY: Zombie really digging the tip of his elbow into Strick’s spine there.
CAT: This is like Strick’s second wrestling match ever and he’s gonna die. Way to go, PAW! Killed a man’s dreams.
PERCY: He knew what he was getting into when he signed on the dotted line.
CAT: Actually his manager Tony Chu signed for him.
PERCY: Oh…
From his position at Strick’s back, Zombie suddenly locks on a crossface and WRENCHES back on Strick’s neck and spine.
PERCY: Zombie must realize Strick’s still close to the ropes.
CAT: Of course he does, Percy. He wants to kill Strick, that’s all. Remember?
Strick once more reaches for the ropes beside him, but Zombie tugs back ever harder on his neck and manages to make the rope break that much further away!
CAT: Dirty!
PERCY: Perfectly legal! Strick could tap out here!
Instead, Strick lifts onto one elbow and fires a surprise elbow right back into Zombie’s throat that catches him offguard and disrupts the crossface. And Strick isn’t finished. Launching a second elbow, this one glancing off Zombie’s nose that successfully dislodged him from gripping Strick and sends the Zombie reeling and rolling away.
PERCY: Strick and Zombie both in pain.
CAT: But Zombie’s rising first.
PERCY: So is Strick!
Together, with the help of the ropes on either side of the ring, both Zombie and Strick come to a stand. Both managing to loosen up and shrug off the previous altercation to meet once more in the ring. Strick pops off a sudden rapid fire sequence of punches that snap Zombie’s head back, but seem to have little effect beyond that.
PERCY: Strick’s going to have to switch up his tactic here if he hopes to survive another onslaught from OH SWEET MOTHER OF ENOLA GAY!
Strick fires off a powerful series of blows; rights, lefts, a swinging roundhouse punch into a high thrusting sidekick that fells Zombie like a mighty oak!
CAT: Quite the series!
Strick looks focussed on Zombie as he wastes no time gripping Zombie by the arm and swinging him back up to a stand and promptly and swiftly kneeing Zombie and doubling him over and without much further fanfare Strick draws Zombie up and PILEDRIVES Zombie down headfirst into the canvas!
CAT: Strick with the cover!
1…
2…
THR- KICKOUT!
PERCY: Impressive display of perseverance by the Zombie. That’s not an easy kickout to make!
CAT: I don’t think Strick is overly enthused by that outcome, either.
An agonizing moment for Strick Plissken, as he braces the shoulder the Zombie has already spent bending at an awkward 90 degree angle watches as the Zombie slowly rolls his way to the ropes and uses them to help him climb to a knee. Strick moves in like lightning with a charging knee lift the Zombie dodges his face out of the way of and promptly drives his elbow into Strick’s spine, knocking him off balance. Zombie climbs the rest of the way to his feet and BULLDOGS Strick’s face into the canvas.
PERCY: Zombie’s got the resilience of an armored tank!
Once more Zombie angles to grab Strick’s arm, but before he can go back to work on the armbar, Strick rolls out, spins on his back and kicks the soles of his ring boots into Zombie’s chin. Then it’s a scramble as Zombie drops backward as Strick shuffles through an obvious grimace of pain to grip Zombie’s leg and twist it backward into a single-leg boston crab with Strick’s knee braced tightly and painfully into Zombie’s spine!
CAT: These two look like Spider-Monkeys.
PERCY: Whatever they look like, it’s been a gritty, raw battle. You can SEE the pain in Zombie’s eyes as Strick Plissken torques hard on his knee.
Zombie rolls and fights as Strick angles Zombie’s foot backward at an awkward angle like he means one to touch the other. Zombie growls in protest and A Ref swings in ready for a tap out that Zombie refuses to give! Zombie rolls from side to side, his hand reaching back instead of for the ropes and manages to catch a grip of the back of Strick’s head, by the hair and starts to wrench back in much the same fashion as Strick is on Zombie’s leg!
CAT: Nasty! This ain’t no catfight!
PERCY: I don’t think Zombie cares, it’s a tactic that’s working. Strick’s letting go!
Forced to let go, Strick drops an elbow onto Zombie, forcing Zombie to let go of Strick and the two awkwardly roll away from one another and lock eyes from across the ring as either men rise to a knee.
CAT: Oooooooo the staredown.
PERCY: The animosity is real and palpable, Cat.
CAT: I think love is in the air, actually.
PERCY: You’re quite the contrarian tonight.
CAT: I live for conflict.
PERCY: Well, more is incoming.
As both men slowly climb to their feet, more sluggish than when this match began, it’s obvious they share a hesitance at going all in. Once met in the middle, Zombie fires off a few quick jabs that Strick deflects with his guard up and fires a few off of his own that Zombie shrugs off as easily as the others.
PERCY: Strick’s strategy seems to be to force Zombie into making a mistake, but so far Zombie’s proving to be a tough nut to crack.
Strick fires a few more shots that finally staggers Zombie, some hard rights that knock him off balance. Strick closes in, draws his knee up into Zombie but once he’s in close enough Zombie hauls off a wicked headbutt that staggers Strick right back!
CAT: He plays possum well!
PERCY: He does. Strick’s going to have to think on his feet if he wants to decode the riddle that stands before him.
With Strick staggered, Zombie sends a few wicked chops into Strick’s chest that keeps the larger man backpedaling towards the corner where Zombie aims to trap him, launching into a wicked series of kicks to pin Strick into the corner before backing up and running in for a splash but Strick dodges out of the corner and Zombie collides hard with the turnbuckle and bounces out into the waiting arms of Strick for a nasty looking reverse neckbreaker!
PERCY: Nicely done by Strick!
CAT: Know what? Strick is a right stupid name.
PERCY: This is hardly the time for a critique.
CAT: I know but, I hear you calling the match and it’s like GRATING on my nerves. Call him Kyle.
PERCY: Why? Ex-boyfriend?
CAT: No, silly. The name Strick is giving me a headache.
PERCY: Like the one Strick’s working on giving to our good friend Zombie?
CAT: Helluva a segue, Percy.
PERCY: I try.
Strick has mounted Zombie and delivering shot after brutal shot before quickly aiming to curl around Zombie and knock him out with a rear-naked choke. But before he can get into position Zombie’s delivering elbow shots into Strick’s ribs that are forcing the bigger man to retreat off Zombie.
CAT: Does anything keep Zombie down?!
PERCY: It’s hard to say, isn’t it?
Strick’s forced retreat comes with Zombie once more sluggishly crawling his way to a stand. Strick charges in to try to keep his opponent grounded only to find his running knee blocked, grabbed and swung towards the canvas and Zombie doesn’t let go, keeping a grip on Strick’s ankle and trying to flip him onto his stomach for a single-leg boston crab of his own but Strick fights his way loose with some furious kicks that throws Zombie off him.
PERCY: The struggle is real!
CAT: I’ve never seen two grown so seemingly incapable of agreeing on the rules of combat, Percy.
PERCY: Strick and Zombie are evenly matched brawlers trying to beat each other at each other’s game it seems!
Strick brings himself to his feet and the energy in the ring is kinetic as Strick and Zombie meet once more, this time with speed and force as Strick launches another salvo of punches that Zombie opts instead to dodge and weave away from, once more getting in close and KNOCKING Strick senseless with a headbutt, then Zombie ties Stricks arms up into a belly-to-belly clutch and SUPLEXES Strick across the ring!
CAT: Brutal!
PERCY: Zombie with the cover!!
1…
2…
Thr-KICKOUT!
CAT: Damn! I thought Zombie had him!
PERCY: Still convinced the matches are rigged here in PAW, Cat?
CAT: Of course. I just want to play along.
Zombie rolls out of the cover still gripping Strick by the back of the head, and the seat of his pants and DRIVES Strick shoulder first into the corner where Strick collides with the turnbuckles, and knocks into the corner post. With Strick in immense pain, Zombie is about to capitalize but Strick kicks the heel of his boot upward into Zombie’s chin and knocks him flat onto his back! Strick drops from the corner, clutching his shoulder.
PERCY: The same shoulder Zombie’s gone to work on earlier!
CAT: That’s gotta hurt!
PERCY: Meanwhile Zombie is laid out on the canvas after that wicked thrusting kick!
Strick holds onto his shoulder and leans into the corner of his woes, as Zombie works to get back to his feet holding his jaw. As Zombie slowly makes to turn back towards Strick's position, Plissken explodes out of the corner, dropping his good shoulder to catch Zombie with a gore. Zombie is taken off his feet and slammed down to the mat, but when Strick raises up, it can now clearly be seen that Zombie slipped on the mandible claw.
PERCY: Strick with the Puscifier on Zombie, but Zombie has his fingers shoved into Strick's mouth for the Itai Claw!
CAT: Ew! That's as nasty as the first time I saw it!
Strick chokes on the uncomfortable nerve hold, while Zombie lies there near motionless after the Puscifier except for the hand that's retaining his submission hold. Strick, seeing an opportunity not just for a break, but a pin, simply lays down across Zombie, hooking the leg, while still suffering the effects of the mandible claw.
CAT: You have got to be kidding me....
1...
2...
3!!!
PERCY: That has got to be the craziest fucking pin that I have ever seen!
CAT: Yeah, but it worked. A-Ref's calling for the bell, and Zombie just let Plissken go. Damndest thing I've ever seen.
RHONDA ARMSTRONG: Here is your winner by pinfall, STRICK PLISSKEN!!
Plissken coughs to get air as Zombie rolls under the bottom rope to the outside of the ring. He holds his rib cage as he makes his way up the ramp, looking over his shoulder at Strick, and grinning all the while at the pain. Finally, after catching his breath, Strick gets to his feet and allows A-Ref to lift his hand in victory. Strick scans the crowd, nodding to the few fans who have signs with Strick's profile outlined on them, before he comes to a stop on a strange figure sitting at ringside. He cocks his head to the side, and rubs his eyes just in case, and then takes another look once their clear. Sitting in the front row is a person in a full blown Sasquatch costume, big feet and all, staring straight at Strick.
PERCY: Um....ok.
CAT: WTF?
Plissken drops down from the ring, and steps over to the fan, obviously finding this both strange and amusing. The fans seem to be into it as he pats the Sasquatch on the head, and then shrugs, turning to make his way to the back. All of a sudden The Sasquatch figure reaches out and yanks Plissken back into a sleeper hold, lifting the man clear off the arena floor, into a blatant choke. Strick flails and kicks to try and get away, but the woolly figure doesn't relent, squeezing until Strick's eyes start to roll into the back of his head.
PERCY: THIS GUY'S GONE CRAZY! SECURITY!! SECURITY!!
CAT: JESUS! Can we get someone down here, pronto!
4Loco appears at the top of the ramp, flanked on either side by security, and they come rushing down the ramp towards the ringside area. The Sasquatch quickly drops Strick to the floor, who falls first to his knee's, and then down to his face, seemingly unconscious. Security tries to follow the Sasquatch through the crowd, but before they can rally, the large figure has disappeared.
CAT: Where'd that big bastard go? I bet dollars to donuts that was Press under there! He's just trying to find creative ways to conceal his identity to keep from getting fined anymore.
PERCY: I don't know...first that innovative cover, and now... Sasquatch?
CAT: OK, that's my limit. This night can't get any stranger, or I'm going to have to double up on my medicine.
PERCY: Well folks, I have no idea what just happened here, but we're going to take a short commercial break to try and figure it out.
{Grudge Match}
Singles Match
Kelsey Spencer versus Jack Nomad
WEDNESDAY NIGHT REVENGE - Every Other Wednesday @ 11:59PM
Tag Match
The Original Carnies versus Jonathan Alexander & Tapioca Joe (w/William Saint)
{GZW vs PAW}
Singles Match
John Champa versus Johnny Raike
THE BOX OFFICE
MEANWHILE
Singles Match
Calvin Harris versus CJ O'Donnell
Pro Wrestling ELITE
NEW YORK'S PREMIERE WRESTLING PROMOTION
{MAIN EVENT}
Singles Match
Nova Wonder versus Alexandra Kelly
BEFORE CURTAIN
The BombTrax's trademark white 1966 Pontiac Tempest rolls up to the back section of the arena, and as soon as the engine is cut, Press and Flaming Youth exit the vehicle. They start making their way towards the service entrance reserved for talent, travel bags over their shoulders, when they hear their names being called from someone behind them.
MAN: BOMBTRAX! MR. PRESS! A word please...
Press and Youth stop to look back, and the camera catches a portly middle aged gentleman in a plaid yellow shirt, a brown jacket with patches on the elbows, running to catch up with the duo. The BombTrax exchange uneasy glances as the man finally reaches them, revealing a plain brown satchel slung over his shoulder. He seems to be perspiring heavily from the short jog, but none-the-less he wipes his palm on his shirt, and extends it to the two men. Youth takes it and shakes it vehemently, a boyish grin on his face as the portly man jostles all around. When he finally releases him, the man has to try and steady himself before Press shakes his hand, and curtly nods towards the building.
PRESS: Wish we had more time, pal, but the show's about to start, and we need to get inside. If you plan on sticking around, we'd be more than willing to sign any autographs and take pictures.
The man's eyes shoot up in question, and he shakes his head to indicate 'no'.
MAN: I'm not a fan, Mr. Press. I'm Luis Mendoza with the Louisiana State Gaming Commission.
PRESS: OK....
Press exchanges another look with Youth, this one more expectant than curious.
MENDOZA: Yes, I'm here to discuss what happened at WICKED#13, with a Mr. John Champa. My office has it recorded that you powerbombed him off the roof into an ambulance?
PRESS: Was that us?
YOUTH: Pretty sure it was.
PRESS: Ok, then yeah. What about it? Here to give me a medal?
Mendoza's face screws up into a scowl, and he stuffs his hand into his satchel until finding what he wants. When it emerges, he has a file in his grasp, and he flips it open to share with the two men.
MENDOZA: I'm afraid a medal is out of the question, Mr. Press. I have a fine here from the gaming commission for ten thousand dollars. I'm not sure what it is about you PAW people, but we've issued more fee's and fine's on your organization than all of the other wrestling franchises in the state of Louisiana combined. The state of Louisiana does not condone hanging, won-ton violence, the use of illegal weapons or paraphernalia, or the tossing of another human being off of a roof with a thirty five foot drop. Not to mention the damage to property when Mr. Champa landed on the ambulance. That's state property Mr. Press, and we just can't have it.
Press shook his head, and stuffed his hands in his pockets, making him look like a big, reluctant, kid. He even kicked the dirt in front of him for emphasis, and then looked at Mr. Mendoza with mock innocence.
PRESS: Aw, shucks, Mr. Mendoza. We was just having a little fun. Is it really necessary to fine us all that money.
MENDOZA: I'm afraid it is, Mr. Press.
Press nodded, and shrugged his shoulders.
PRESS: Alright, does your office accept personal checks?
MENDOZA: As long as they aren't prone to bounce, yes.
Press nodded as Youth searched his travel bag for the check book. When he finds it, he hands it over to Press, who flips the front flap open, and begins to fill out a check. When he's done, he tears along the perphiated edge, and hands the check over to Mr. Mendoza with a genuine smile.
PRESS: Alright, Mr. Mendoza, there you are. Now if you'll excuse me, we have a shot to get to.
With that the two men turn to make their way towards the door once more, while Mendoza looks over their check in satisfaction. He was used to there being a lot more fuss when asking for that high a settlement, but was more than willing to not look a gift horse in the mouth. Just as he's about to stuff the check into his satchel, he notices that there's something off. He quickly jogs behind the men, calling for them to catch up. By the time he reaches them, they are already at the door, Youth holding it open for his partner to enter. They turn in the doorway, as Mendoza holds his hands out for them to 'stop'.
MENDOZA: Wait...you guys....hold up! Mr. Press, you wrote me a check for twenty thousand, but the fine is only ten.
Press gave the smaller man a wicked grin as he leaned forward, and spoke with a dark edge to his voice.
PRESS: No, Mr. Mendoza, there's no mistake. We figured we might as well get it over with, and pay you for the fine you're going to give us tonight as well.
Without another word, Press disappeared inside the doorway, and Youth made to follow him, a grin on his face.
YOUTH: Think of it this way, Louie, it'll save you the trip of having to come back out here in two weeks.
With a wink, he disappears as well, the door closing shot and leaving Luis Mendoza, Louisiana State Gaming Commission agent, standing dumbstruck by his lonesome. He looks over to the camera with a look mingled with surprise and disappointment.
MENDOZA: Are they all that crazy?
It's the only thought he's left with, before the camera moves to inside the building.
MAN: BOMBTRAX! MR. PRESS! A word please...
Press and Youth stop to look back, and the camera catches a portly middle aged gentleman in a plaid yellow shirt, a brown jacket with patches on the elbows, running to catch up with the duo. The BombTrax exchange uneasy glances as the man finally reaches them, revealing a plain brown satchel slung over his shoulder. He seems to be perspiring heavily from the short jog, but none-the-less he wipes his palm on his shirt, and extends it to the two men. Youth takes it and shakes it vehemently, a boyish grin on his face as the portly man jostles all around. When he finally releases him, the man has to try and steady himself before Press shakes his hand, and curtly nods towards the building.
PRESS: Wish we had more time, pal, but the show's about to start, and we need to get inside. If you plan on sticking around, we'd be more than willing to sign any autographs and take pictures.
The man's eyes shoot up in question, and he shakes his head to indicate 'no'.
MAN: I'm not a fan, Mr. Press. I'm Luis Mendoza with the Louisiana State Gaming Commission.
PRESS: OK....
Press exchanges another look with Youth, this one more expectant than curious.
MENDOZA: Yes, I'm here to discuss what happened at WICKED#13, with a Mr. John Champa. My office has it recorded that you powerbombed him off the roof into an ambulance?
PRESS: Was that us?
YOUTH: Pretty sure it was.
PRESS: Ok, then yeah. What about it? Here to give me a medal?
Mendoza's face screws up into a scowl, and he stuffs his hand into his satchel until finding what he wants. When it emerges, he has a file in his grasp, and he flips it open to share with the two men.
MENDOZA: I'm afraid a medal is out of the question, Mr. Press. I have a fine here from the gaming commission for ten thousand dollars. I'm not sure what it is about you PAW people, but we've issued more fee's and fine's on your organization than all of the other wrestling franchises in the state of Louisiana combined. The state of Louisiana does not condone hanging, won-ton violence, the use of illegal weapons or paraphernalia, or the tossing of another human being off of a roof with a thirty five foot drop. Not to mention the damage to property when Mr. Champa landed on the ambulance. That's state property Mr. Press, and we just can't have it.
Press shook his head, and stuffed his hands in his pockets, making him look like a big, reluctant, kid. He even kicked the dirt in front of him for emphasis, and then looked at Mr. Mendoza with mock innocence.
PRESS: Aw, shucks, Mr. Mendoza. We was just having a little fun. Is it really necessary to fine us all that money.
MENDOZA: I'm afraid it is, Mr. Press.
Press nodded, and shrugged his shoulders.
PRESS: Alright, does your office accept personal checks?
MENDOZA: As long as they aren't prone to bounce, yes.
Press nodded as Youth searched his travel bag for the check book. When he finds it, he hands it over to Press, who flips the front flap open, and begins to fill out a check. When he's done, he tears along the perphiated edge, and hands the check over to Mr. Mendoza with a genuine smile.
PRESS: Alright, Mr. Mendoza, there you are. Now if you'll excuse me, we have a shot to get to.
With that the two men turn to make their way towards the door once more, while Mendoza looks over their check in satisfaction. He was used to there being a lot more fuss when asking for that high a settlement, but was more than willing to not look a gift horse in the mouth. Just as he's about to stuff the check into his satchel, he notices that there's something off. He quickly jogs behind the men, calling for them to catch up. By the time he reaches them, they are already at the door, Youth holding it open for his partner to enter. They turn in the doorway, as Mendoza holds his hands out for them to 'stop'.
MENDOZA: Wait...you guys....hold up! Mr. Press, you wrote me a check for twenty thousand, but the fine is only ten.
Press gave the smaller man a wicked grin as he leaned forward, and spoke with a dark edge to his voice.
PRESS: No, Mr. Mendoza, there's no mistake. We figured we might as well get it over with, and pay you for the fine you're going to give us tonight as well.
Without another word, Press disappeared inside the doorway, and Youth made to follow him, a grin on his face.
YOUTH: Think of it this way, Louie, it'll save you the trip of having to come back out here in two weeks.
With a wink, he disappears as well, the door closing shot and leaving Luis Mendoza, Louisiana State Gaming Commission agent, standing dumbstruck by his lonesome. He looks over to the camera with a look mingled with surprise and disappointment.
MENDOZA: Are they all that crazy?
It's the only thought he's left with, before the camera moves to inside the building.
“A Warrior’s Call” by Volbeat joins a long pan of the semi-darkened Pure Arena, revealing within the spotlights that the turnout is packing the building to capacity, with some spilling out of their seats. The song plays and we sweep over the ring, the fans, the stands, the ramp, backstage where workers hurry to set up.
Cut to the mega screen over the entryway, clips and highlights from the previous WICKED#13. A shot of Johnny Sykes & Ava celebrating after their win over Tapioca Joe and Jonathan Alexander; The destruction of the GZW Takeover by The BombTrax; Lex Collins and Aokigahara Zombie trading blows in their epic see-saw match up; Annabel Lee covering Roy Baker for the 1,2,3; Nova Wonder falling victim to the Puscifier from Strick Plissken; Calvin Harris, Jack Nomad, and Alexandra Kelly standing over the prone body of the PAW Heavyweight Champion, Press, during The Box Office; The French Mime Assassins nailing Redrum with Mime-O-Vision; Johnny Raike securing the win over Jack Nomad, and the vicious attack after the match by The Shadow ; Finally a ticking TNT bomb, which becomes an animated bomb, that counts down from 10 and ignites a graphical EXPLOSION on the screen before the speakers cut the music. The focus of the camera falls on the announce table where sits Percival Banion Chord and Caitlin Casey.
PERCY: Welcome everyone to WICKED#14, right here at the Pure Amusement Park in Purity, Louisiana! I am Percival Banion Chord, and this lovely lady to my right is Caitlin Casey, and we will be your hosts with the most this evening!
CAT: Wow! You are such a dork!
PERCY: Be that as it may, my social status is not on trial here tonight, but we've got plenty of action to keep you entertained.
CAT: You got that right, we've got a Main Event for the ages, as two sexy, but extremely violent ladies go head to head to settle the score of who is the top bitch here in PAW!
PERCY: Alexandra Kelly has quite the score to settle with Nova Wonder, who's coming off of a set back herself in Strick Plissken. The animosity is high, and should make for awesome T.V., but right before that we have another rivalry set to take place in CJ O'Donnell and Calvin Harris.
CAT: That's right, Percy. These two haven't faced off since WICKED#7, and were even partners at WICKED#11, where Harris nailed CJ with a steel chair.
PERCY: No love lost in that fight, for sure. Guess who's on The Box Office tonight?
CAT: Who?
PERCY: Two of your favorite people, The French Mime Assassins.
CAT: Oh God. What the fuck are two Mimes going to have to talk about? Wait minute...Mime's don't even talk!
PERCY: Be that as it may, they are going to be there with their manager, Double FC.
CAT: Thank god we have some real wrestling to turn to before that debacle. How about the much anticipated match between Champa and Raike? I'm surprised that Champa is even able to make it here tonight.
PERCY: I wouldn't count my chickens before they hatch. I haven't heard of him making it to the building yet.
CAT: Oh Ye of little faith.
PERCY: Speaking of matches we've been waiting on, what about the grudge match between Nomad and Kelsey Spencer? That goes all the way back to WICKED#9 when Spencer won a Fatal Four Way that Jack was involved in. It should be interesting, to say the least.
CAT: We've got tag team action when The Original Carnies take on Tapioca Joe & Jonathan Alexander. Both teams lost last show, and are looking to go the distance here to prove themselves in PAW.
PERCY: Don't forget about our winners match, when Aokigahara Zombie takes on Strick Plissken to figure out who is going to reign supreme out of the new talent.
CAT: You know what.....I'm done waiting. Let's start the show!
Cut to the mega screen over the entryway, clips and highlights from the previous WICKED#13. A shot of Johnny Sykes & Ava celebrating after their win over Tapioca Joe and Jonathan Alexander; The destruction of the GZW Takeover by The BombTrax; Lex Collins and Aokigahara Zombie trading blows in their epic see-saw match up; Annabel Lee covering Roy Baker for the 1,2,3; Nova Wonder falling victim to the Puscifier from Strick Plissken; Calvin Harris, Jack Nomad, and Alexandra Kelly standing over the prone body of the PAW Heavyweight Champion, Press, during The Box Office; The French Mime Assassins nailing Redrum with Mime-O-Vision; Johnny Raike securing the win over Jack Nomad, and the vicious attack after the match by The Shadow ; Finally a ticking TNT bomb, which becomes an animated bomb, that counts down from 10 and ignites a graphical EXPLOSION on the screen before the speakers cut the music. The focus of the camera falls on the announce table where sits Percival Banion Chord and Caitlin Casey.
PERCY: Welcome everyone to WICKED#14, right here at the Pure Amusement Park in Purity, Louisiana! I am Percival Banion Chord, and this lovely lady to my right is Caitlin Casey, and we will be your hosts with the most this evening!
CAT: Wow! You are such a dork!
PERCY: Be that as it may, my social status is not on trial here tonight, but we've got plenty of action to keep you entertained.
CAT: You got that right, we've got a Main Event for the ages, as two sexy, but extremely violent ladies go head to head to settle the score of who is the top bitch here in PAW!
PERCY: Alexandra Kelly has quite the score to settle with Nova Wonder, who's coming off of a set back herself in Strick Plissken. The animosity is high, and should make for awesome T.V., but right before that we have another rivalry set to take place in CJ O'Donnell and Calvin Harris.
CAT: That's right, Percy. These two haven't faced off since WICKED#7, and were even partners at WICKED#11, where Harris nailed CJ with a steel chair.
PERCY: No love lost in that fight, for sure. Guess who's on The Box Office tonight?
CAT: Who?
PERCY: Two of your favorite people, The French Mime Assassins.
CAT: Oh God. What the fuck are two Mimes going to have to talk about? Wait minute...Mime's don't even talk!
PERCY: Be that as it may, they are going to be there with their manager, Double FC.
CAT: Thank god we have some real wrestling to turn to before that debacle. How about the much anticipated match between Champa and Raike? I'm surprised that Champa is even able to make it here tonight.
PERCY: I wouldn't count my chickens before they hatch. I haven't heard of him making it to the building yet.
CAT: Oh Ye of little faith.
PERCY: Speaking of matches we've been waiting on, what about the grudge match between Nomad and Kelsey Spencer? That goes all the way back to WICKED#9 when Spencer won a Fatal Four Way that Jack was involved in. It should be interesting, to say the least.
CAT: We've got tag team action when The Original Carnies take on Tapioca Joe & Jonathan Alexander. Both teams lost last show, and are looking to go the distance here to prove themselves in PAW.
PERCY: Don't forget about our winners match, when Aokigahara Zombie takes on Strick Plissken to figure out who is going to reign supreme out of the new talent.
CAT: You know what.....I'm done waiting. Let's start the show!
Opening Bout
Singles Match
Annabel Lee versus Rachel Ellsworth
PERCY: So we're ready to delve right into the show this week in what I'm sure will be an exciting match up.
CAT: I'll be the judge of that, Percy. Now shut up so that Rhonda can do her thing.
RHONDA ARMSTRONG: The following contest is your Opening Bout of the evening, and is a singles match scheduled for one fall or submission.....
As the opening notes of “Best Day of My Life” hit the sound system Annabel appears at the entrance, a glowing smile plastered across her face as she starts down the aisle toward the ring.
RHONDA ARMSTRONG: Introducing first, weighting in at 121 pounds, and hailing from Portland, Oregon....ANNABEL LEE!!
Annabel can't help but start to dance along with the music about half way to the ring. She slaps a few hands before rolling in under the bottom rope and springing up to her feet. Pressing the fingertips of both hands to her lips, she blows a big kiss out to the audience and bounces up and down in her corner, loosening up for the match.
PERCY: Annabel Lee had a very successful debut last show when she defeated Roy Baker in what many would say was an upset.
CAT: Yeah, but now she's taking on a woman who's proved herself a thousand times over in Rachel Ellsworth, and we'll just have to see how bubbly she is when 'The Atomic Redhead' bashes her teeth down her throat.
Right on cue...
Someone call the ambulance...
There's gonna be an accident.
There's gonna be an accident.
The chorus of 'Infra-Red' by Placebo plays as orange and red lights wash over the arena, the crowd cheering raucously for the young woman that is about to emerge. Not the sort to cool her heels backstage for long, Rachel Ellsworth steps through the curtain and onto the ramp, a mischievous smile on her lips that promises nothing good for the poor sap that's in the ring with her tonight. The feisty little redhead raises her fists above her head as she looks out over the crowd, garnering their support while also revving herself up for the match to come. This movement triggers a v-shaped formation of white pyros to go off behind her.
RHONDA ARMSTRONG: And introducing her opponent, coming to us from Cochranton, Pennsylvania, and weighting in at 154 pounds, she is 'The Atomic Redhead' RACHEL ELLSWORTH!!!
Heading down the ramp at a leisurely-enough pace to interact with the fans as she goes, she makes her way into the ring via sliding beneath the bottom rope. Heading over to the nearest turnbuckle, she mounts it and continues eating up the cheers that she's getting from the fans. Ultimately, though, she has to hop down and get ready for her match... and that is exactly what she does, doing a few stretches that could be considered provocative if one has a thing for rudimentary calisthenics.
PERCY: From what I hear, it was a huge check mark for Lady Munin when she signed Rachel Ellsworth. You know how she feels about the strong female dynamic.
CAT: Being one herself, that's not surprising. I'm excited to see what the Pocket Sized Dislocation Machine can do here in PAW.
A-Ref goes over the rules briefly, and then calls for the bell. Rather than start things off as most contests go, Annabel Lee marches to the center of the ring, and with a huge innocent smile, offers her hand to Rachel. Ellsworth looks down at the appendage for a second, cocks her head to the side, and then shrugs. She reaches out, taking Annabel by the hand, and gives it a good shake before releasing. Annabel almost appears giddy as she grins out the crowd, who clap for the show of good sportsmanship, a rarity here in PAW. Just as Annabel returns her focus to Rachel, However, Ellsworth answers that innocent smile with a strike right across her mouth. Annabel stumbles back shocked, and she looks up at the fiery red head, who only smirks and shrugs again, right before charging her with a boot to the midsection, and hooks her head to perform a perfectly executed singing neck breaker that sends both of them crashing down to the mat.
PERCY: WELCOME TO PAW ANNABEL LEE AND RACHEL ELLSWORTH!
CAT: That'll teach that greenhorn to dial back the enthusiasm!
Rachel swiftly rolls Lee over onto her back, and hooks her leg for a cover.
1...
2...
PERCY: Thre-KICK OUT! Big impact from the start, but still to early to gain the win that easily.
CAT: A few more moves like that, and it won't be.
Ellsworth , showing the patience that comes of experience, stays on Annabel, applying an arm wringer to pull Lee back to standing. The Atomic Redhead throws a few elbows to Lee’s arm, whips her by it, holds on , pulls Lee back in, sweeps the leg for a takedown and collapses into an armbar. Annabel lays stunned for a moment, pain in her arm obvious by the look on her face. She tries all she can to adjust position, doing whatever possible to relieve the pressure, but Rachel is one step ahead, keeping the pressure locked in tight. A-Ref goes to check on Lee just as she gets some leverage with her feet and rolls herself and Ellsworth into a ball, putting the vet’s shoulders on the mat.
1…
2…
Kickout!
PERCY: Ellsworth getting caught off guard by the rookie Annabel Lee for just a moment there, wisely releases the hold and get’s out of that pin.
CAT: That was a decent attempt at a reversal, but Lee still finding herself on the receiving end of most of the actual wrestling going on up there. She’s not careful, she might find herself hanging out with the Lost Boyz.
The Atomic Redhead looks appraisingly at Annabel Lee, both women having returned to standing. Ellsworth shoots in on Lee and grabs a standing headlock, cinching it in tight, using her extra height over Lee to pull her up and really make her carry all her weight on her neck. A push to the ropes bring Annabel Lee running at Rachel Ellsworth, who matches her run and takes her down to the mat with the Lou Thez Press, raining down blows to the unprotected head and face of Annabel Lee. Before too long A-Ref is there to call Rachel off, an order she complies with, though after a moment of consideration. Lee is still down on the mat though, and Rachel has no trouble following up with hard stomps to the arms and knees of Annabel Lee
PERCY: Ellsworth looking like she intends to pick apart Annabel Lee, going after arms and now the legs. If she keeps it up it’s a good strategy, forces Lee to try and guess what she’ll attack next.
CAT: Also sets up for the Red(head) Death down the line, something I know Annabel Lee wants no part of. Course, best I can tell what she does want a part of is sunshine and rainbows, so perhaps this lesson will be good for her.
Ellsworth backs off the stomps and drops down to a knee, delivering straight rights into Annabel Lee’s thigh. The second generation grappler grimaces in pain as the strikes seem to have their intended effect of knotting up Lee’s legs, letting out a scream of pain when ‘The Atomic Redhead’ Rachel Ellsworth transitions into a one-legged Boston Crab. Lee immediately tries to fight to the ropes, but the larger Ellsworth drags her back into the center of the ring. Lee continues to yell out, but shakes her head when A-Ref asks if she gives up. Rachel keeps the hold a moment longer, before letting go and rising up to deliver a stomp to the back of Lee’s thigh. Ellsworth pulls the smaller woman from the mat to her feet, and hits the ropes, charging in to hit another swinging neckbreaker, but Lee pushes out of the catch, nails The Atomic Redhead with a spinning kick to the head. Ellsworth is sent backpedaling into the ropes, rebounding off and into a second spinning kick. Rachel drops to her knees, eyes glazed over, as Lee hits the ropes and takes her all the way to the mat with a shining wizard.
PERCY: AnnaBELL Ringer followed up by a shining wizard, that’s a huge combination, and could be what Lee needs to get into this match.
CAT: What she needs is to make a cover, try and steal one while the vet isn’t looking.
Lee takes a moment to catch her breath as she lays on the mat post shining wizard, finally rolling over to make the cover.
1…
2…
Kickout!
PERCY: Rachel Ellsworth once again out at two.
CAT: Told you she needed to make the cover. Catch your breath when you’re dead, you got a match to win.
Lee takes a moment to look at A-Ref, begging with her eyes for a three count, but of course none is forthcoming. She reaches down grab Rachel Ellsworth and pull her to standing, keeping her hold on the arm and delivering a short arm clothesline into a somersault. The hold is kept and a second clothesline delivered, followed by a kip up. A third is attempted, but Ellsworth blocks with her free hand, slaps Lee across the face, pulls her arm free and engulfs Annabel Lee, snap suplexing her with authority to the mat.
CAT: Ellsworth is good at taking control here, especially after Annabel telegraphed that last clothesline. Rachel really putting Lee through her paces and making her pay for showing off. Just hit the damn move!
PERCY: Lee is refusing to give up or stop fighting, but it’s been The Atomic Redhead in the driver’s seat for the majority of this match so far. Looks like now she’s got Lee on the mat again Rachel’s going to transition back to a mat game.
A few stomps to the gut keep Lee from getting her wind back, followed up by an elbow drop to the sternum from Ellsworth. The Atomic Redhead pulls Annabel Lee upto a sitting position and delivers a trio of elbows right between the shoulder blades. Ellsworth shoots in and fights Lee into an underhook, before sitting back and locking in the Scarlet Fever.
PERCY: That Scarlet Fever hold is brutal,working the arm and head, and just plain hard to escape from.
CAT: Annabel Lee keeps finding herself in these tricky holds, center of the ring. She’s got to pay more attention to where she is, or she’ll wear herself out. Don’t blow up, rook!
Lee yells once again, fighting Ellsworth to reposition, but having trouble getting out of the grip of the stronger woman. She grits her teeth and shakes her head when A-Ref comes to ask if she gives up, but still can find no escape from the hold. Yelling out once more, Lee gets a leg extended all the way out behind her and begins to push, taking both women to their sides. Rachel is quick to let go of the Scarlet Fever and roll over Lee’s back, locking in a sleeper hold.
PERCY: Out of the frying pan, into the fire, Lee escapes some of The Atomic Redhead’s signature offense only to find herself locked in the sleeper.
CAT: I hope Lee is taking notes, because this is what you want to do to win a match, not showboat and play to the crowd.
Lee struggles against the hold but Rachel Ellsworth has it in tight; soon the fighting fades as the veteran technician locks in the hold to cut off blood flow to the brain. A-Ref checks for a verbal response from Lee and gets none, so he raises the arm and lets it fall to the mat, for a count of one. A second check of the arm yields the same result, the arm flopping to the mat as if nothing more than dead meat. A-Ref lifts the arm a third time and lets it fall, the Pure Arena crowd chanting Ann-a-bel to try and bring her back. Mere inches from the mat the hand stops, and the cheering gets louder as Lee begins fighting her way to standing. Ellsworth tries to redouble he strength on the hold, but a rain of elbows to the midsection from Lee soon put an end to the hold all together. Possessed of a second win and the support of the crowd Lee hits the ropes and comes tearing out to deliver a headscissors to Rachel Ellsworth. As The Atomic Redhead stumbles back to her feet she walks into a second running headscissors, sending her back to the mat. Annabel stalks Ellsworth now, stomping the mat and signalling for the crowd to get louder, a challenge they rise to. Ellsworth is no sooner to her feet and turning to face her opponent than Annabel Lee takes her down with a running sit-out facebuster. Lee goes for the cover.
1…
2…
Th-kickout!
PERCY: Very near fall there for the rookie, she is doing all she can to not just stay in this match but to win it.
CAT: That she is, but all the cheering crowds in the world won’t heal Lee from the stretching she’s been taking. If she doesn’t end it soon, she’s toast.
Lee looks at A-Ref in disbelief, asking him if he’s sure it was only three. A-Ref confirms the two count to her and begins telling her to get back to the match at hand. As Lee tries to bring Ellsworth back off the mat she is instead greeted by a rising European uppercut, sending her stumbling away. Ellsworth is quick to press the attack, laying in a stiff kick to the already abused thigh of Annabel Lee to keep her from pulling away. Rachel is quick to follow up with a double axe handle to Lee’s left shoulder, grabs the arm to apply a wrist lock, and flips Lee into a cross arm breaker.
CAT: Doesn’t always matter how much heart you have. Sometimes, you just need to know the counter, and it doesn’t look like Lee does.
PERCY: Give her credit, Cat, Lee is trying to roll into the hold to relieve the pressure. She doesn’t want to give up.
CAT: No one ever wants to give up, Percy.
Lee sets to rocking back and forth, getting a little higher up each time until finally rolling all the way into the cross arm breaker to stop the pain. Ellsworth is quick to break the hold and roll back to her feet as Lee begins to rise. A soccer kick to the gut takes the wind out of Lee and gives Ellsworth the chance to once more take control. Rachel takes a moment to roll her neck, trying to mitigate the damage done by her young challenger, before hauling Lee up and tossing her to the corner. The Atomic Redhead follows in with a European uppercut and a slap to the face. Rachel get’s right up in Lee’s business, taunting the younger grappler to stop her if she can. Ellsworth backs off a step and comes running in with a charging knee, but Lee drops and Rachel finds herself slamming chest first into the turnbuckle. Lee two hand pushes Ellsworth hard back into the corner, takes a few steps back on unsteady legs, and crushes Rachel with a crossbody to the corner. Lee backrolls to her feet as Ellsworth stumbles out, hits the ropes and catches The Atomic Redhead with her tilt-a-whirl small package roll up.
PERCY: Annie-oop in the middle of the ring!
CAT: No way! Ellsworth’s gotta kick out!
1…
2…
3!Kickout
*Ding*
Ellsworth pops up off the mat to get in A-Ref’s face, the displeasure at her surprise loss evident on her face. Annabel Lee meanwhile looks ecstatic, bouncing up to celebrate, though throwing her arm up in victory seems to hurt her. After a moment Annabel sees the look on Ellsworth’s face as she argues with A-Ref and rolls from the ring.
RHONDA ARMSTRONG: Ladies and Gentlemen, your winner by pinfall, ANNABEEEEELLLLLLL LEEEEEEEE!
Annabel continues up the ramp, slapping hands with the fans until finally reaching the stage. She turns for one last fist pump into the air before disappearing behind the curtain. The scene fades to commercial.
Singles Match
Aokigahara Zombie versus Strick Plissken
Aokigahara Zombie versus Strick Plissken
PERCY: And we're back. That was one heck of an opener, wouldn't you say Cat?
CAT: No doubt, but this next match should be interesting in it's own right.
PERCY: That's right. Munin calls this her 'WINNER' match, as both of these men gained victory last show, and are set to duke it out for a higher position on the card.
CAT: Well, what are we waiting for. Take it away Rhonda!
RHONDA ARMSTRONG: This match is scheduled for one fall or submission...
“Courage” by The Minutemen blares out of the speakers and Aokigara Zombie comes out with his hands in the air. He lets out a roar and points at the ring with a wide grin. He struts to the ring and high fives a couple of fans.
RHONDA ARMSTRONG: Coming to the ring first, hailing from Yamanashi, Japan, and weighting in at 230 pounds, here is… AOKIGAHARA ZOMBIE!
CAT: Ooooo, a zombie! Scary.
PERCY: The Martyr himself is here ladies and gentlemen. At Wicked number 13, Zombie and Lex Collins put on what was arguably the match of the night.
CAT: Then why wasn’t it the main event?
PERCY: Because… well because how is anyone supposed to know how the matches are going to turn out before we watch them, Cat?!
CAT: Maybe they’re rigged? Maybe this whole federation is a work. Ever think of that, huh?
PERCY: You’re going to get us fired.
CAT: Whatever. Get back to the whole pre-scripted lead-in to a match that’s obviously been predetermined by phone-in votes a-la American Idol or something.
PERCY: You’re evil…
CAT: Prove me wrong, wrestlers! Prove. Me. Wrong.
PERCY: There’s no teleprompter. This is not scripted. Forget her, folks.
CAT: Impossible.
The arena is silent as the lights dim. Suddenly, there’s the announcement of a motorcycle engine. The sound grows until finally a 1975 Norton Commando emerges from the entrance. Atop the bike is none other than Strick Plissken. He stops on the entrance ramp and lets the engine roar. Some audience members are forced to cover their ears due to the loud pops of the exhaust. Finally, Strick lets loose and the motorcycle roars down the ramp and he brings the bike to an abrupt sliding stop, parallel with the ring apron.
RHONDA ARMSTRONG: Introducing his opponent, hailing from Virginia, and weighting in at 205 pounds... here is SRICK PLISSKEN!
Strick kicks out the kick stand before stepping off of the motorbike. He takes his jacket off and drapes it over the seat. He takes off his rose colored sunglasses and sets them on the speedometer of the bike before walking to the ring steps. He wipes his boots on the ring apron before stepping into the ring. He’s ready to go and it looks like he’s eager to get things done as he waits.
PERCY: Zombie’s opponent tonight, Strick Plisken, similarly pulled off an impressive victory over Nova Wonder on Wicked 13.
CAT: She was robbed.
PERCY: Very possible.
CAT: You admitted it!
PERCY: *sigh* Anyway, tonight, with these two set to go head-to-head, it’s a battle of the undefeateds here at Wicked 14 and only one of these two can remain that way.
CAT: Unless there’s a draw.
PERCY: I-- Well, sure, but--
CAT: Or a double disqualification.
PERCY: Sure, I guess--
CAT: You guess?! Just fess up, Percival. You already know the outcome. This match, like our legal system, is RIGGED.
PERCY: NO I DO NOT KNOW THE OUTCOME! Pity me, folks. Please.
DING! DING!
PERCY: There’s the bell! Let’s see what happens, WHICH I don’t already know, before my announce partner implies that I do.
CAT: More lies.
In the ring, Zombie and Strick step into the center ring and begin the slow, methodical circle of one another. The ring boards rattle and jostle as Strick rolls his neck and puts to use some footwork as Zombie follows him slowly. Strick puts his guard up and lets loose with a straight jab, another, and another quick jab, his fists striking Zombie in the face and rocking his head back.
CAT: Is this a boxing match?
PERCY: Almost looks like it. Strick might be testing the waters a little.
CAT: Doesn’t Zombie like… absorb punishment or something?
PERCY: Again… testing the waters, Cat, means Strick’s feeling his opponent out.
With Strick shifting gears and striking Zombie with a few rights, then lefts, knocking some solid fists into Zombie’s face, Zombie very quickly lunges in for a straight tackle that plows into Strick and lands them both on the canvas. Zombie rises and begins laying fists into Strick in retaliation. Strick lifts his knees and quickly pivots Zombie sideways, laying a fist of his own into Zombie before kicking away and rolling gently back to his feet as Zombie does the same.
CAT: On paper, these two are like the exact same person.
PERCY: Very true, Cat. But might I suggest reading BOTH biographies rather than the same one twice?
CAT: Oh. Touche.
While Cat arranges her research notes and Percy shakes his head in dismay beside her, in the ring Strick has once again taken to taunting Zombie with quick fist strikes, leading Zombie after him either on purpose or haphazardly.
PERCY: Strick keeps dancing with the footwork, though I’m not sure the boxing is having much effect on Zombie.
CAT: How could it? The guy is dead.
Zombie moves in quick for another spear, but Strick is able to get a hold of him and plants a rising knee right into Zombie to straighten him back up then straight-arm clotheslines the Zombie down FLAT and quickly goes in for a cover.
1…
PERCY: Quick kick-out there by Zombie!
Zombie rises slowly with Strick leading him to a stand only to be surprised with a sudden scoop slam that rattles the ring! Zombie wastes no time laying into the fallen Strick with several footstomps, then an elbow drop. Zombie rises to stand in wait as Strick rolls to his knees and glares at Zombie.
CAT: Zombie seems like the type of opponent that would smell, don’t you think he looks like he smells? Like he has a B.O. problem? Don’t you think so, Percy?
PERCY: I don’t smell anything. And I hardly think that’s going to hinder him from combatting Strick, tonight if that were the case, Cat.
CAT: Oh, I don’t doubt it. Maybe the offensive B.O. is what gave him the edge over Lex Collins. Ever think of that? Maybe that’s why he’s as good as he is.
PERCY: The only one who’s being offensive here, Cat is--
CAT: PAY ATTENTION!
Zombie gives the ring a rattle after a wicked DDT on Strick and Zombie methodically drags Strick back to his feet only to be greeted with some seated punches to stagger the Zombie. Strick wastes no time with a sudden jawbreaker that further staggers Zombie backward! Strick climbs to his feet, a little slower than before on account of the DDT but quick enough to charge at Zombie with a running cross-body block that topples the Zombie. Strick hooks the leg for a quick cover!
1..
2...KICKOUT!
CAT: Silly Strick. Zombies don’t die.
PERCY: You’re really taking his name literally.
CAT: Shouldn’t I be?
PERCY: … I… Guess…
CAT: Do you research, Percy. When all else fails, call the match!
Strick rubs his face, and drags Zombie to his feet, laying another couple of punches into Zombie but Zombie quickly grabs Strick’s arm and tosses him to the canvas and doesn’t let go, locking Strick into a fujiwara armbar as soon as he’s down!
PERCY: Dangerous place to be!
CAT: You’re telling me! Strick looks ready to tap out!
PERCY: Close to the ropes! He’s just gotta reach them!
As Strick’s arm is bent at an angry awkward angle, he reaches with his other arm for the ropes just inches away from him. Strick reaches but Zombie TORQUES on the arm harder, wrenching more pain into Strick’s shoulder.
CAT: That looks like it hurts.
PERCY: It should. And it probably does. Akogihara Zombie is a man out for pain tonight!
Zombie wrenches hard on Strick’s arm as Strick muscles through it, powering forward inch by terribly painful inch with his fingers just bouncing off the ropes before he manages to grab the bottom rope and A Ref forces the rope break on Zombie who reluctantly releases Strick’s arms, rolls his neck and comes to a stand to look down on Strick who writhes in pain on the canvas.
CAT: Really wouldn’t want to be the medical tech who looks at Strick’s arm after that.
PERCY: Neither would I. Zombie is a lethal combination of methodical and punishing here now!
Zombie lays into the downed Strick with more vicious stomps that flatten Strick onto the canvas before dropping another elbow right onto Strick’s spine!
PERCY: Zombie really digging the tip of his elbow into Strick’s spine there.
CAT: This is like Strick’s second wrestling match ever and he’s gonna die. Way to go, PAW! Killed a man’s dreams.
PERCY: He knew what he was getting into when he signed on the dotted line.
CAT: Actually his manager Tony Chu signed for him.
PERCY: Oh…
From his position at Strick’s back, Zombie suddenly locks on a crossface and WRENCHES back on Strick’s neck and spine.
PERCY: Zombie must realize Strick’s still close to the ropes.
CAT: Of course he does, Percy. He wants to kill Strick, that’s all. Remember?
Strick once more reaches for the ropes beside him, but Zombie tugs back ever harder on his neck and manages to make the rope break that much further away!
CAT: Dirty!
PERCY: Perfectly legal! Strick could tap out here!
Instead, Strick lifts onto one elbow and fires a surprise elbow right back into Zombie’s throat that catches him offguard and disrupts the crossface. And Strick isn’t finished. Launching a second elbow, this one glancing off Zombie’s nose that successfully dislodged him from gripping Strick and sends the Zombie reeling and rolling away.
PERCY: Strick and Zombie both in pain.
CAT: But Zombie’s rising first.
PERCY: So is Strick!
Together, with the help of the ropes on either side of the ring, both Zombie and Strick come to a stand. Both managing to loosen up and shrug off the previous altercation to meet once more in the ring. Strick pops off a sudden rapid fire sequence of punches that snap Zombie’s head back, but seem to have little effect beyond that.
PERCY: Strick’s going to have to switch up his tactic here if he hopes to survive another onslaught from OH SWEET MOTHER OF ENOLA GAY!
Strick fires off a powerful series of blows; rights, lefts, a swinging roundhouse punch into a high thrusting sidekick that fells Zombie like a mighty oak!
CAT: Quite the series!
Strick looks focussed on Zombie as he wastes no time gripping Zombie by the arm and swinging him back up to a stand and promptly and swiftly kneeing Zombie and doubling him over and without much further fanfare Strick draws Zombie up and PILEDRIVES Zombie down headfirst into the canvas!
CAT: Strick with the cover!
1…
2…
THR- KICKOUT!
PERCY: Impressive display of perseverance by the Zombie. That’s not an easy kickout to make!
CAT: I don’t think Strick is overly enthused by that outcome, either.
An agonizing moment for Strick Plissken, as he braces the shoulder the Zombie has already spent bending at an awkward 90 degree angle watches as the Zombie slowly rolls his way to the ropes and uses them to help him climb to a knee. Strick moves in like lightning with a charging knee lift the Zombie dodges his face out of the way of and promptly drives his elbow into Strick’s spine, knocking him off balance. Zombie climbs the rest of the way to his feet and BULLDOGS Strick’s face into the canvas.
PERCY: Zombie’s got the resilience of an armored tank!
Once more Zombie angles to grab Strick’s arm, but before he can go back to work on the armbar, Strick rolls out, spins on his back and kicks the soles of his ring boots into Zombie’s chin. Then it’s a scramble as Zombie drops backward as Strick shuffles through an obvious grimace of pain to grip Zombie’s leg and twist it backward into a single-leg boston crab with Strick’s knee braced tightly and painfully into Zombie’s spine!
CAT: These two look like Spider-Monkeys.
PERCY: Whatever they look like, it’s been a gritty, raw battle. You can SEE the pain in Zombie’s eyes as Strick Plissken torques hard on his knee.
Zombie rolls and fights as Strick angles Zombie’s foot backward at an awkward angle like he means one to touch the other. Zombie growls in protest and A Ref swings in ready for a tap out that Zombie refuses to give! Zombie rolls from side to side, his hand reaching back instead of for the ropes and manages to catch a grip of the back of Strick’s head, by the hair and starts to wrench back in much the same fashion as Strick is on Zombie’s leg!
CAT: Nasty! This ain’t no catfight!
PERCY: I don’t think Zombie cares, it’s a tactic that’s working. Strick’s letting go!
Forced to let go, Strick drops an elbow onto Zombie, forcing Zombie to let go of Strick and the two awkwardly roll away from one another and lock eyes from across the ring as either men rise to a knee.
CAT: Oooooooo the staredown.
PERCY: The animosity is real and palpable, Cat.
CAT: I think love is in the air, actually.
PERCY: You’re quite the contrarian tonight.
CAT: I live for conflict.
PERCY: Well, more is incoming.
As both men slowly climb to their feet, more sluggish than when this match began, it’s obvious they share a hesitance at going all in. Once met in the middle, Zombie fires off a few quick jabs that Strick deflects with his guard up and fires a few off of his own that Zombie shrugs off as easily as the others.
PERCY: Strick’s strategy seems to be to force Zombie into making a mistake, but so far Zombie’s proving to be a tough nut to crack.
Strick fires a few more shots that finally staggers Zombie, some hard rights that knock him off balance. Strick closes in, draws his knee up into Zombie but once he’s in close enough Zombie hauls off a wicked headbutt that staggers Strick right back!
CAT: He plays possum well!
PERCY: He does. Strick’s going to have to think on his feet if he wants to decode the riddle that stands before him.
With Strick staggered, Zombie sends a few wicked chops into Strick’s chest that keeps the larger man backpedaling towards the corner where Zombie aims to trap him, launching into a wicked series of kicks to pin Strick into the corner before backing up and running in for a splash but Strick dodges out of the corner and Zombie collides hard with the turnbuckle and bounces out into the waiting arms of Strick for a nasty looking reverse neckbreaker!
PERCY: Nicely done by Strick!
CAT: Know what? Strick is a right stupid name.
PERCY: This is hardly the time for a critique.
CAT: I know but, I hear you calling the match and it’s like GRATING on my nerves. Call him Kyle.
PERCY: Why? Ex-boyfriend?
CAT: No, silly. The name Strick is giving me a headache.
PERCY: Like the one Strick’s working on giving to our good friend Zombie?
CAT: Helluva a segue, Percy.
PERCY: I try.
Strick has mounted Zombie and delivering shot after brutal shot before quickly aiming to curl around Zombie and knock him out with a rear-naked choke. But before he can get into position Zombie’s delivering elbow shots into Strick’s ribs that are forcing the bigger man to retreat off Zombie.
CAT: Does anything keep Zombie down?!
PERCY: It’s hard to say, isn’t it?
Strick’s forced retreat comes with Zombie once more sluggishly crawling his way to a stand. Strick charges in to try to keep his opponent grounded only to find his running knee blocked, grabbed and swung towards the canvas and Zombie doesn’t let go, keeping a grip on Strick’s ankle and trying to flip him onto his stomach for a single-leg boston crab of his own but Strick fights his way loose with some furious kicks that throws Zombie off him.
PERCY: The struggle is real!
CAT: I’ve never seen two grown so seemingly incapable of agreeing on the rules of combat, Percy.
PERCY: Strick and Zombie are evenly matched brawlers trying to beat each other at each other’s game it seems!
Strick brings himself to his feet and the energy in the ring is kinetic as Strick and Zombie meet once more, this time with speed and force as Strick launches another salvo of punches that Zombie opts instead to dodge and weave away from, once more getting in close and KNOCKING Strick senseless with a headbutt, then Zombie ties Stricks arms up into a belly-to-belly clutch and SUPLEXES Strick across the ring!
CAT: Brutal!
PERCY: Zombie with the cover!!
1…
2…
Thr-KICKOUT!
CAT: Damn! I thought Zombie had him!
PERCY: Still convinced the matches are rigged here in PAW, Cat?
CAT: Of course. I just want to play along.
Zombie rolls out of the cover still gripping Strick by the back of the head, and the seat of his pants and DRIVES Strick shoulder first into the corner where Strick collides with the turnbuckles, and knocks into the corner post. With Strick in immense pain, Zombie is about to capitalize but Strick kicks the heel of his boot upward into Zombie’s chin and knocks him flat onto his back! Strick drops from the corner, clutching his shoulder.
PERCY: The same shoulder Zombie’s gone to work on earlier!
CAT: That’s gotta hurt!
PERCY: Meanwhile Zombie is laid out on the canvas after that wicked thrusting kick!
Strick holds onto his shoulder and leans into the corner of his woes, as Zombie works to get back to his feet holding his jaw. As Zombie slowly makes to turn back towards Strick's position, Plissken explodes out of the corner, dropping his good shoulder to catch Zombie with a gore. Zombie is taken off his feet and slammed down to the mat, but when Strick raises up, it can now clearly be seen that Zombie slipped on the mandible claw.
PERCY: Strick with the Puscifier on Zombie, but Zombie has his fingers shoved into Strick's mouth for the Itai Claw!
CAT: Ew! That's as nasty as the first time I saw it!
Strick chokes on the uncomfortable nerve hold, while Zombie lies there near motionless after the Puscifier except for the hand that's retaining his submission hold. Strick, seeing an opportunity not just for a break, but a pin, simply lays down across Zombie, hooking the leg, while still suffering the effects of the mandible claw.
CAT: You have got to be kidding me....
1...
2...
3!!!
PERCY: That has got to be the craziest fucking pin that I have ever seen!
CAT: Yeah, but it worked. A-Ref's calling for the bell, and Zombie just let Plissken go. Damndest thing I've ever seen.
RHONDA ARMSTRONG: Here is your winner by pinfall, STRICK PLISSKEN!!
Plissken coughs to get air as Zombie rolls under the bottom rope to the outside of the ring. He holds his rib cage as he makes his way up the ramp, looking over his shoulder at Strick, and grinning all the while at the pain. Finally, after catching his breath, Strick gets to his feet and allows A-Ref to lift his hand in victory. Strick scans the crowd, nodding to the few fans who have signs with Strick's profile outlined on them, before he comes to a stop on a strange figure sitting at ringside. He cocks his head to the side, and rubs his eyes just in case, and then takes another look once their clear. Sitting in the front row is a person in a full blown Sasquatch costume, big feet and all, staring straight at Strick.
PERCY: Um....ok.
CAT: WTF?
Plissken drops down from the ring, and steps over to the fan, obviously finding this both strange and amusing. The fans seem to be into it as he pats the Sasquatch on the head, and then shrugs, turning to make his way to the back. All of a sudden The Sasquatch figure reaches out and yanks Plissken back into a sleeper hold, lifting the man clear off the arena floor, into a blatant choke. Strick flails and kicks to try and get away, but the woolly figure doesn't relent, squeezing until Strick's eyes start to roll into the back of his head.
PERCY: THIS GUY'S GONE CRAZY! SECURITY!! SECURITY!!
CAT: JESUS! Can we get someone down here, pronto!
4Loco appears at the top of the ramp, flanked on either side by security, and they come rushing down the ramp towards the ringside area. The Sasquatch quickly drops Strick to the floor, who falls first to his knee's, and then down to his face, seemingly unconscious. Security tries to follow the Sasquatch through the crowd, but before they can rally, the large figure has disappeared.
CAT: Where'd that big bastard go? I bet dollars to donuts that was Press under there! He's just trying to find creative ways to conceal his identity to keep from getting fined anymore.
PERCY: I don't know...first that innovative cover, and now... Sasquatch?
CAT: OK, that's my limit. This night can't get any stranger, or I'm going to have to double up on my medicine.
PERCY: Well folks, I have no idea what just happened here, but we're going to take a short commercial break to try and figure it out.
The cameras backstage catch up with the purple-clad Annabel Lee who seems just short of skipping through the halls. She makes a squeaky sound of surprise as she almost runs into Brandy Irving. After a quick step back to make sure she's not in anyone's personal bubble she puts on a bright smile.
ANNABEL LEE: Hi! Sorry about that. I should pay more attention.
BRANDY IRVING: You're Annabel Lee, right?
ANNABEL LEE: That's me!
Annabel quickly clasps her hands in front of herself to keep her fingers from fidgeting with excitement. She can't quite help the subtle bouncing up and down on her toes.
BRANDY IRVING: Well, after a debut win against Roy Baker and now a second victory over Rachel Ellsworth, how are you feeling?
If it were even possible, Annabel's smile grew wider.
ANNABEL LEE: I'm so excited Miss Irving! On top of the world even! Mr. Baker and Miss Ellsworth were both real tough opponents, and I'm darn proud of myself for being able to beat them both. I'm super thankful that Pure Amusement Wrestling took the chance on someone they'd never heard of before and let me come wrestle here. I sure hope that they see I'll always do my best for them and they feel like they made a good investment.
BRANDY IRVING: That's... cute in a lost puppy kind of way.
ANNABEL LEE: Oh lost puppies are sad though! Lost anythings are sad really. Except maybe bugs. Ugh, have you seen how many bugs there are here Brandy? I saw a cockroach and was stuck standing on a chair forever until the housekeeping lady showed up.
BRANDY IRVING: Right. What are you going to do with your time in PAW? What's on the list for Annabel Lee?
ANNABEL LEE: I've got tons of learning to do Miss Brandy. I gotta keep my focus on what's in front of me and not worry about what's down the line. That's an important lesson I learned growing up. It's okay to shoot for the stars, but you gotta make pay attention to the steps on the way to the space shuttle first or you'll fall off the side. I shouldn't go eyeing championships and stuff yet when I'm still green, y'know?
BRANDY IRVING: So, is it true that your father is “Huey the Hammer” Carter?
For a moment the smile fell off of Annabel's face and she looked like a deer in the headlights. Her ponytail swung back and forth as she vigorously shook her head.
ANNABEL LEE: I can't tell ya about that Miss Brandy. I like to keep my family life and wrestling as separate as possible. The only name anyone needs to worry about is Annabel Lee. Not that I mean they need to worry worry, I'm not a meanie. I just meant that I'm all they need to pay attention to. ...Not that I want all the attention either. I mean...
BRANDY IRVING: I get the picture.
Annabel is left standing awkwardly in the middle of the hall as Brandy and the camera crew depart.
ANNABEL LEE: Hi! Sorry about that. I should pay more attention.
BRANDY IRVING: You're Annabel Lee, right?
ANNABEL LEE: That's me!
Annabel quickly clasps her hands in front of herself to keep her fingers from fidgeting with excitement. She can't quite help the subtle bouncing up and down on her toes.
BRANDY IRVING: Well, after a debut win against Roy Baker and now a second victory over Rachel Ellsworth, how are you feeling?
If it were even possible, Annabel's smile grew wider.
ANNABEL LEE: I'm so excited Miss Irving! On top of the world even! Mr. Baker and Miss Ellsworth were both real tough opponents, and I'm darn proud of myself for being able to beat them both. I'm super thankful that Pure Amusement Wrestling took the chance on someone they'd never heard of before and let me come wrestle here. I sure hope that they see I'll always do my best for them and they feel like they made a good investment.
BRANDY IRVING: That's... cute in a lost puppy kind of way.
ANNABEL LEE: Oh lost puppies are sad though! Lost anythings are sad really. Except maybe bugs. Ugh, have you seen how many bugs there are here Brandy? I saw a cockroach and was stuck standing on a chair forever until the housekeeping lady showed up.
BRANDY IRVING: Right. What are you going to do with your time in PAW? What's on the list for Annabel Lee?
ANNABEL LEE: I've got tons of learning to do Miss Brandy. I gotta keep my focus on what's in front of me and not worry about what's down the line. That's an important lesson I learned growing up. It's okay to shoot for the stars, but you gotta make pay attention to the steps on the way to the space shuttle first or you'll fall off the side. I shouldn't go eyeing championships and stuff yet when I'm still green, y'know?
BRANDY IRVING: So, is it true that your father is “Huey the Hammer” Carter?
For a moment the smile fell off of Annabel's face and she looked like a deer in the headlights. Her ponytail swung back and forth as she vigorously shook her head.
ANNABEL LEE: I can't tell ya about that Miss Brandy. I like to keep my family life and wrestling as separate as possible. The only name anyone needs to worry about is Annabel Lee. Not that I mean they need to worry worry, I'm not a meanie. I just meant that I'm all they need to pay attention to. ...Not that I want all the attention either. I mean...
BRANDY IRVING: I get the picture.
Annabel is left standing awkwardly in the middle of the hall as Brandy and the camera crew depart.
{Grudge Match}
Singles Match
Kelsey Spencer versus Jack Nomad
PERCY: Welcome back, folks. This next match is one that I've personally been waiting on since WICKED#9.
CAT: Jack Nomad is going to destroy that bubbly princess Kelsey Spencer! Can you believe that bitch compared herself to Gohan?
PERCY: From Dragonball Z?
CAT: Yep!
PERCY: But...but...but...
CAT: You see folks, I don't really give a shit about Dragonball Z, but Percy here is a huge nerd, and I knew that the mere mention of it would cause his brain to go into shutdown mode.
PERCY: FUCK YOU, CAT!
CAT: PERCY! Such language! Rhonda, provide us a distraction so we can wash his mouth out with soap!
RHONDA ARMSTRONG: The following match is scheduled for one fall...
"First World Anarchist" by the Dollyrots his the speakers as Kelsey bursts out from behind the curtain, brimming with energy. She's all smiles as she makes her way down the ramp with a spring in her step, slapping the outstretched hands of young fans as she passes.
RHONDA ARMSTRONG: Introducing first, hailing from Baltimore, Maryland, and weighting in at 124 pounds. She is 'Blue Thunder' KELSEY SPENCER!!
Upon reaching ringside, Kelsey hops up onto the ring apron and scales the turnbuckle from the outside and jumps over the top rope into the ring, throwing up the sign of the horns with confidence.
PERCY: Kelsey has an uphill battle ahead of her here tonight. First night back after having to leave for a time due to injury and not only does she have to face Jack Nomad, who's been on a bit of a roll lately and likely all sorts of pissed off about being shown up by Johnny Raike last week, but she's gotta watch over her shoulder-- not just for Pixie, but now Calvin Harris too?
CAT: It's part of the job, this is the sport, and she signed herself up for this before she left.
Before it can be further explained, her fading music is replaced with--
The lights around the steel girdered Entrance Arch dim. Amber and red emergency lights start spin to cast a diffused orange glow a short distance through the fog. The familiar sound of Edsel Dope's voice screams over the PA System.
"Violence" by Dope continues to play. The fog is parted by the forward motion of a tattooed Jack Nomad suddenly bursting forth with a long legged stride.
His attire consists of a hooded, patchwork leather vest decorated with the word "HARDCORE" on his shoulders, black leather tights done in similar fashion to his vest, maroon boots with silver knee and kick pads, and tape on his fists. In his hand is a barbwire wrapped silver mop handle sporting black electrical tape at both ends.
RHONDA ARMSTRONG: And introducing her opponent, weighting in at 241 pounds, he hails from Jersey City, New Jersey....
Arriving at ringside, he climbs onto the ring apron and walks to the very center of that apron. Turning to face the fans, Jack throws his arms out at his sides. His face is a burning, intense scowl as he surveys the crowd. He then turns and enters the ring.
RHONDA ARMSTRONG: 'HARDCORE' JACK NOMAD!!!
He throws his hood back to reveal his slightly crooked nose and dark brown eyes. Long stringy black hair hangs in his face as he lowers his head forward to glare at the camera from beneath the ridge of his brow. Jack then throws his arms out at his sides, fists clenched tightly with the mop handle held firmly in hand and spins around to scowl at the audience. He removes his vest and tosses it over to his corner where a ring attendant takes it.
PERCY: Kelsey Spencer is giving up a hundred fourteen pounds-- nearly her weight over again, you heard that right, folks-- and seven inches of height to Jack Nomad here.
And face to face, one on one, that size difference is put in stark relief. They lock up, Kelsey immediately and violently backed into a turnbuckle as A Ref starts counting. Nomad backs up, the throws a low kick, immediately throwing fists at her head as she attempts to cover up and the count restarts.
PERCY: I know they have heat dating back to Wicked #9, but Jack is giving her no space.
A Ref hits four before he physically interjects himself between them, hands on Nomad's midsection guiding him back before this match ends faster than it took everyone to get down to the ring.
CAT: Jack Nomad holding a grudge is practically his trademark at this point. Still, here? Nah, little miss hyena scooping up a win in that Fatal Four Way from one of Jack's kills doesn't go by unpunished, and she's got his undivided attention this time.
Jack backs up, gives pause, then charges in, potentially looking for one of his cutting elbow shots. But Kelsey boosts herself up by a grip on the top rope, planting a boot in his face, messy but effective. She grabs him by the head while he's bowled over, throwing elbows and fists, determined to keep him dazed. Jack actually begins to pull back from her, but she grips his wrist. He takes advantage to irish whip her into the far ropes, a rare sight of needing a little bit of space himself-- now Kelsey charges him and leaps, going for a hurricanrana-- Nomad catches her in a grip, hefting her up to counter into a powerbomb. She hangs midair for a long beat--
PERCY: It's a grudge match indeed, I've started wondering if Jack has any other type of matches-- oh, Spencer taking control--
And as he starts to throw her, she counters his counter, headscissors takedown snapped off with all of his momentum feeding into it. He makes his feet again by pure instinct, stumbling back into the ropes dazed. She charges in, he shoulderblocks her and she stumbles backward in pain, grasping her shoulder.
CAT: Kelsey's shoulder injury's well known, Jack may smell blood in the water here.
Kelsey's caught herself on the ropes and before she can recover, Nomad charges. He doesn't connect though, she drops with the top rope grasped on her good side, leaving him tumbling to the outside instead. She quickly moves to the apron, leaping at Jack, but he moves before it's easily identifiable what she was going for. She manages to land on her feet and Jack charges her, but she's ready--
CAT: DROP TOEHOLD INTO THE RING STEPS!
Not just that, but one shoulder eats ring post as well, and the crowd's erupting along with Cat at it. Kelsey makes the ring before Jack can recover, sending a basement dropkick into the arm draped around the ringpost, sending Jack tumbling back to sit on his ass at ringside.
PERCY: Spencer paying back in full for the cheap shot Jack Nomad took to her shoulder!
Indeed, she's not done with him. She slides out of the ring and lays a sharp kick into the hurt shoulder. The count is advancing and she's left rolling him back in the ring now.
PERCY: Kelsey Spencer more vindictive than we usually see her tonight, but she's got harsh words to live down and a point to prove.
CAT: Point to prove, you've gotta be kidding me.
PERCY: She's out to show Jack Nomad that there's more than opportunism to her, that she can beat him in this ring face to face.
Jack starts to rise, up to one knee, and Kelsey lays a sharp kick into that knee.
CAT: That's the knee that Johnny Raike laid open with that hellish riding crop last show!
Nomad is slumped in a corner, and Kelsey gets a running start from the far corner-- basement dropkick right to the mush! Nomad's eyes look glazed and Kelsey drags him by the feet to the center of the ring, crowd starting to rise in excitement for a win they hadn't seen coming from the freshly-back Kelsey.
1...
2...
Kickout.
CAT: She would do well to look back at last show, look back at Heat Stroke, and see how hard to put down this man really is.
PERCY: You certainly can't fault her for trying, that dropkick looked like a knockout shot for sure.
Kelsey rises slow, the look in her eyes one of hard thought. She starts ascending the corner turnbuckle but Nomad gets up before she can, he's making a wobbly charge to hit her with his jumping knee strike, sending her crashing to the outside.
CAT: This could be the turning point...
The crowd has gone from exclamations of fear for Kelsey to a mixture of boos and disorganized shouting to try to will her on. Nomad picks her up and rolls her into the ring, immediately going for a pin.
1...
2...
THR-- kickout!
Nomad's not taking time to cuss, he grabs Kelsey's arm on her bad side, snapping in a top wristlock, cranking it upward to torque her shoulder as she tries to fight him. She yells in pain and snaps off blind kicks towards his head, and enough connect to be effective. She's still dazed from her fall, and he catches her before she's all the way up and hits a snap suplex, having to pause to grab at his own shoulder before he can cover.
1...
2...
Nope. Despite it all, she's starting to pull herself back together from her fall. He drops a quick flurry of knees into her shoulder, pulls her up again to look for something more impactful, and is interrupted by her snapping those damnable kicks into his knee again-- the first few landing on the side, and from there any angle she can get at. Jack is driven all the way down to one knee, making her closer to her height, and he finds those snap like kicks being driven into his abdomen, chest, and face at what seems to him like the same time. Jack sits there rocking, when Kelsey drops back into the ropes for some momentum, and then comes tearing across the ring with a Yakuza kick that damn near takes his head off. He snaps down the short distance to the mat holding his face, and Kelsey holds her shoulder as she makes her way over to the closest corner. She dips through the ropes to the apron, and then using her good arm, she fights her way to the top turnbuckle. Once there, the fasn come to their feet as she nods out to them, and takes flight with a Frog Splash.
PERCY: KELSEY SPENCER WITH A FROG SPLASH!! BUT JACK GOT OUT OF THE WAY!!
CAT: Man, if her shoulder wasn't messed up before, it is now.
PERCY: Jack is back on his feet, and he's looking a little haggard, but he's definitely stalking Spencer...she's up, slowly turning.....SPINE JACKER!!
CAT: This one's over...
Jack crawls over and makes the pin, having enough respect for Kelsey to at least hook the leg.
1...
2...
3!!!
RHONDA ARMSTRONG: Here is your winner by pinfall, 'HARDCORE' JACK NOMAD!!
PERCY: Well, he's done it. I guess now he can lay to rest some of those doubts he may have had after WICKED#9, cause Jack Nomad is victorious.
CAT: Got to hand it to Kelsey for being a tough woman, but it's kind of hard when you're in there with someone who exudes unadulterated violence like Nomad.
PERCY: Well, folks, we're going to take a quick commercial break, and then we'll be back with some Tag Team Action!
CAT: Jack Nomad is going to destroy that bubbly princess Kelsey Spencer! Can you believe that bitch compared herself to Gohan?
PERCY: From Dragonball Z?
CAT: Yep!
PERCY: But...but...but...
CAT: You see folks, I don't really give a shit about Dragonball Z, but Percy here is a huge nerd, and I knew that the mere mention of it would cause his brain to go into shutdown mode.
PERCY: FUCK YOU, CAT!
CAT: PERCY! Such language! Rhonda, provide us a distraction so we can wash his mouth out with soap!
RHONDA ARMSTRONG: The following match is scheduled for one fall...
"First World Anarchist" by the Dollyrots his the speakers as Kelsey bursts out from behind the curtain, brimming with energy. She's all smiles as she makes her way down the ramp with a spring in her step, slapping the outstretched hands of young fans as she passes.
RHONDA ARMSTRONG: Introducing first, hailing from Baltimore, Maryland, and weighting in at 124 pounds. She is 'Blue Thunder' KELSEY SPENCER!!
Upon reaching ringside, Kelsey hops up onto the ring apron and scales the turnbuckle from the outside and jumps over the top rope into the ring, throwing up the sign of the horns with confidence.
PERCY: Kelsey has an uphill battle ahead of her here tonight. First night back after having to leave for a time due to injury and not only does she have to face Jack Nomad, who's been on a bit of a roll lately and likely all sorts of pissed off about being shown up by Johnny Raike last week, but she's gotta watch over her shoulder-- not just for Pixie, but now Calvin Harris too?
CAT: It's part of the job, this is the sport, and she signed herself up for this before she left.
Before it can be further explained, her fading music is replaced with--
#What Scares us is... I think we needed.. Violence...
#BREAK IT DOWN LIKE YOU KNOW IT'S LOADED!!!
#I GOT IT COCKED AND LOADED!!!
#I GOT A SICKNESS TO FEED!!
"Violence" by Dope continues to play. The fog is parted by the forward motion of a tattooed Jack Nomad suddenly bursting forth with a long legged stride.
#SO BREAK IT DOWN LIKE YOU'RE UNDEVOTED!!!
#DON'T NEED A FUCKIN' MOTIVE!!
#I HOPE YOU'RE READY TO BBBBLLLLEEEEDDDD!!!
His attire consists of a hooded, patchwork leather vest decorated with the word "HARDCORE" on his shoulders, black leather tights done in similar fashion to his vest, maroon boots with silver knee and kick pads, and tape on his fists. In his hand is a barbwire wrapped silver mop handle sporting black electrical tape at both ends.
RHONDA ARMSTRONG: And introducing her opponent, weighting in at 241 pounds, he hails from Jersey City, New Jersey....
Arriving at ringside, he climbs onto the ring apron and walks to the very center of that apron. Turning to face the fans, Jack throws his arms out at his sides. His face is a burning, intense scowl as he surveys the crowd. He then turns and enters the ring.
RHONDA ARMSTRONG: 'HARDCORE' JACK NOMAD!!!
He throws his hood back to reveal his slightly crooked nose and dark brown eyes. Long stringy black hair hangs in his face as he lowers his head forward to glare at the camera from beneath the ridge of his brow. Jack then throws his arms out at his sides, fists clenched tightly with the mop handle held firmly in hand and spins around to scowl at the audience. He removes his vest and tosses it over to his corner where a ring attendant takes it.
PERCY: Kelsey Spencer is giving up a hundred fourteen pounds-- nearly her weight over again, you heard that right, folks-- and seven inches of height to Jack Nomad here.
And face to face, one on one, that size difference is put in stark relief. They lock up, Kelsey immediately and violently backed into a turnbuckle as A Ref starts counting. Nomad backs up, the throws a low kick, immediately throwing fists at her head as she attempts to cover up and the count restarts.
PERCY: I know they have heat dating back to Wicked #9, but Jack is giving her no space.
A Ref hits four before he physically interjects himself between them, hands on Nomad's midsection guiding him back before this match ends faster than it took everyone to get down to the ring.
CAT: Jack Nomad holding a grudge is practically his trademark at this point. Still, here? Nah, little miss hyena scooping up a win in that Fatal Four Way from one of Jack's kills doesn't go by unpunished, and she's got his undivided attention this time.
Jack backs up, gives pause, then charges in, potentially looking for one of his cutting elbow shots. But Kelsey boosts herself up by a grip on the top rope, planting a boot in his face, messy but effective. She grabs him by the head while he's bowled over, throwing elbows and fists, determined to keep him dazed. Jack actually begins to pull back from her, but she grips his wrist. He takes advantage to irish whip her into the far ropes, a rare sight of needing a little bit of space himself-- now Kelsey charges him and leaps, going for a hurricanrana-- Nomad catches her in a grip, hefting her up to counter into a powerbomb. She hangs midair for a long beat--
PERCY: It's a grudge match indeed, I've started wondering if Jack has any other type of matches-- oh, Spencer taking control--
And as he starts to throw her, she counters his counter, headscissors takedown snapped off with all of his momentum feeding into it. He makes his feet again by pure instinct, stumbling back into the ropes dazed. She charges in, he shoulderblocks her and she stumbles backward in pain, grasping her shoulder.
CAT: Kelsey's shoulder injury's well known, Jack may smell blood in the water here.
Kelsey's caught herself on the ropes and before she can recover, Nomad charges. He doesn't connect though, she drops with the top rope grasped on her good side, leaving him tumbling to the outside instead. She quickly moves to the apron, leaping at Jack, but he moves before it's easily identifiable what she was going for. She manages to land on her feet and Jack charges her, but she's ready--
CAT: DROP TOEHOLD INTO THE RING STEPS!
Not just that, but one shoulder eats ring post as well, and the crowd's erupting along with Cat at it. Kelsey makes the ring before Jack can recover, sending a basement dropkick into the arm draped around the ringpost, sending Jack tumbling back to sit on his ass at ringside.
PERCY: Spencer paying back in full for the cheap shot Jack Nomad took to her shoulder!
Indeed, she's not done with him. She slides out of the ring and lays a sharp kick into the hurt shoulder. The count is advancing and she's left rolling him back in the ring now.
PERCY: Kelsey Spencer more vindictive than we usually see her tonight, but she's got harsh words to live down and a point to prove.
CAT: Point to prove, you've gotta be kidding me.
PERCY: She's out to show Jack Nomad that there's more than opportunism to her, that she can beat him in this ring face to face.
Jack starts to rise, up to one knee, and Kelsey lays a sharp kick into that knee.
CAT: That's the knee that Johnny Raike laid open with that hellish riding crop last show!
Nomad is slumped in a corner, and Kelsey gets a running start from the far corner-- basement dropkick right to the mush! Nomad's eyes look glazed and Kelsey drags him by the feet to the center of the ring, crowd starting to rise in excitement for a win they hadn't seen coming from the freshly-back Kelsey.
1...
2...
Kickout.
CAT: She would do well to look back at last show, look back at Heat Stroke, and see how hard to put down this man really is.
PERCY: You certainly can't fault her for trying, that dropkick looked like a knockout shot for sure.
Kelsey rises slow, the look in her eyes one of hard thought. She starts ascending the corner turnbuckle but Nomad gets up before she can, he's making a wobbly charge to hit her with his jumping knee strike, sending her crashing to the outside.
CAT: This could be the turning point...
The crowd has gone from exclamations of fear for Kelsey to a mixture of boos and disorganized shouting to try to will her on. Nomad picks her up and rolls her into the ring, immediately going for a pin.
1...
2...
THR-- kickout!
Nomad's not taking time to cuss, he grabs Kelsey's arm on her bad side, snapping in a top wristlock, cranking it upward to torque her shoulder as she tries to fight him. She yells in pain and snaps off blind kicks towards his head, and enough connect to be effective. She's still dazed from her fall, and he catches her before she's all the way up and hits a snap suplex, having to pause to grab at his own shoulder before he can cover.
1...
2...
Nope. Despite it all, she's starting to pull herself back together from her fall. He drops a quick flurry of knees into her shoulder, pulls her up again to look for something more impactful, and is interrupted by her snapping those damnable kicks into his knee again-- the first few landing on the side, and from there any angle she can get at. Jack is driven all the way down to one knee, making her closer to her height, and he finds those snap like kicks being driven into his abdomen, chest, and face at what seems to him like the same time. Jack sits there rocking, when Kelsey drops back into the ropes for some momentum, and then comes tearing across the ring with a Yakuza kick that damn near takes his head off. He snaps down the short distance to the mat holding his face, and Kelsey holds her shoulder as she makes her way over to the closest corner. She dips through the ropes to the apron, and then using her good arm, she fights her way to the top turnbuckle. Once there, the fasn come to their feet as she nods out to them, and takes flight with a Frog Splash.
PERCY: KELSEY SPENCER WITH A FROG SPLASH!! BUT JACK GOT OUT OF THE WAY!!
CAT: Man, if her shoulder wasn't messed up before, it is now.
PERCY: Jack is back on his feet, and he's looking a little haggard, but he's definitely stalking Spencer...she's up, slowly turning.....SPINE JACKER!!
CAT: This one's over...
Jack crawls over and makes the pin, having enough respect for Kelsey to at least hook the leg.
1...
2...
3!!!
RHONDA ARMSTRONG: Here is your winner by pinfall, 'HARDCORE' JACK NOMAD!!
PERCY: Well, he's done it. I guess now he can lay to rest some of those doubts he may have had after WICKED#9, cause Jack Nomad is victorious.
CAT: Got to hand it to Kelsey for being a tough woman, but it's kind of hard when you're in there with someone who exudes unadulterated violence like Nomad.
PERCY: Well, folks, we're going to take a quick commercial break, and then we'll be back with some Tag Team Action!
WEDNESDAY NIGHT REVENGE - Every Other Wednesday @ 11:59PM
Tag Match
The Original Carnies versus Jonathan Alexander & Tapioca Joe (w/William Saint)
PERCY: Welcome back, folks. We've got some Tag Team action coming your way.
CAT: Damn right! PAW Patrol versus The Carnies, and it's go time!
RHONDA ARMSTRONG: The following contest is a tag team match, and is scheduled for one fall or submission...
"Instant Major Felony" By The Goddamn Gallows hits and after the intro plays REDЯUM comes out from the back with a great big smile across his lips. In his hands he carries balloons and his curved clown horn. He darts around the entry way, seemingly out of his damn mind! He does a cartwheel on the ramp and scurries around the stage. Behind him in the curtain, Nirvana stands with his arms crossed over his chest. Redrum then smiles, laughs, and honks his horn as he scurries down towards the ring, his movements erratic and unpredictable. Nirvana follows more seriously, adjusting his mask as he goes.
RHONDA ARMSTRONG: Introducing first, weighting in at a combined weight of 538 pounds, they are the team of Redrum and 'The Midnight King' Nirvana, THE ORIGINAL CARNIES!
REDЯUM runs and slides into the ring before chasing the referee around the ring wildly flailing his arms, while Nirvana uses the steel steps on the outside to get up on the apron, and then push himself between the ropes. REDЯUM laughs as he hops on the top rope and waves out to the crowd, taking off his ring jacket while he sits on the top rope and bounces, waiting to unleash his silly antics. Nirvana watches all of this approvingly, but keeps one wary eye on the entrance for their opponents.
CAT: Those guys are weird.
PERCY: They’re awesome. What's not to love about a deranged clown and a elderly masked man?
CAT: Um....everything?
“Princes of the Universe” by Queen plays as Jonathan Alexander and Tapioca Joe step out onto the stage and head towards the ring, William Saint close behind. Neither man addresses the crowd as Jonathan rolls inside first followed by Joe who climbs into the ring through the ropes.
PERCY: Neither of these men look to be in the greatest of moods.
CAT: They both suffered a loss last go round so they’re probably taking things more seriously.
JA stalks over and grabs Redrum and throws him to the mat before grabbing Nirvana and tossing him out of the ring over the top rope.
PERCY: What the hell was that about?
A-Ref calls for the bell as JA returns to Redrum and stomps away on his back and neck area. He pulls him to his feet and scoops him up slamming him to the mat hard with a bodyslam. JA backs his way into the ropes before returning with a leaping knee to the chest.
CAT: Wow. I don’t think Jonathan is in the greatest of moods right now.
PERCY: He definitely is being a bit more aggressive than usual.
JA drops another knee into his chest before jerking him to his feet and hooking him in a front facelock. He hoists him up with a fisherman suplex and spikes him into the center of the ring with a brainbuster. He makes the cover and hooks the far leg.
1…
2…
PERCY: Redrum with the kickout.
JA pulls the clown back to his feet and grabs him in a side headlock before flipping him over to his back. He grinds in the hold as Redrum tries to break free, pulling at his hands. JA refuses to release the hold as he squeezes tighter. Redrum shifts his weight and puts JA on his back as A-Ref slides into position.
1..
2…
CAT: Jonathan with the kickout. Redrum almost caught him slipping.
JA shifts back into a seated side headlock. Redrum struggles to his feet and shoots JA into the ropes who returns with a shoulder tackle that puts him on the mat. JA pulls Redrum to his feet and shoves him into his corner before tagging in Joe.
PERCY: Tapioca with the tag.
Joe steps into the ring and fires off a hard right to the midsection before pulling him away from the corner. Joe fires off a European uppercut to the jaw that knocks him back into the corner. Redrum stumbles out of the corner as Tap scoops him up and drives him into the mat with a sidewalk slam.
PERCY: This match has been all PAW Patrol.
Tap pulls Redrum to his feet and shoots him across the ring catching him with a clothesline as he returns before dropping an elbow across his chest and making the cover.
1…
2…
CAT: Redrum with the kickout! He really needs to get to his corner and tag!
Tap pulls Redrum to his feet and locks in a front facelock before backing into his corner and tagging in Jonathan who climbs in and grabs a front facelock. The two men lift the deranged clown up high and spike him into the mat with a double brainbuster.
PERCY: Vicious move!
CAT: He just got brained!
JA rolls Redrum over and makes the cover driving his forearm into his face as he does.
1…
2…
Thr…
PERCY: Redrum just gets the shoulder up. The clown showing great resiliency, but in order to win this match, The Carnies are going to have to pull off some offense!
JA yanks Redrum up to his feet and shoves him into the ropes. He throws a hard right but the clown ducks underneath and strikes the opposite side. JA turns around to face him as Redrum catches him with a spinning heel kick that floors him.
PERCY: Redrum needs to tag here.
CAT: Listen to this crowd! They are behind The Carnies, especially after the isolation of Redrum.
Redrum tries to drag himself towards his corner as JA rolls onto his stomach and grabs his ankle stopping his movement.
CAT: Jonathan looking to keep him planted.
PERCY: You have to admit no matter how one sided this may seem, Tap & Joe are working top notch as a team here.
Redrum forces himself to his feet as JA keeps a hold of his ankle. JA spins him around to face him but as he does Redrum leaps into the air and catches him with a step up enziguri to the back of the head. The clown rolls towards his corner and tags in Nirvana, who climbs into the ring as quick as he can.
PERCY: The Carnies with a chance get some momentum going.
Nirvana connects with a knife edge chop as JA makes it to his feet that causes him to clutch his chest in pain.
CROWD: WHooooooo!
The Midnight King steps forward and wraps his arms around JA before flipping him over his head with a belly to belly suplex. As JA lands Nirvana steps over and stomps away on him as he tries to cover up and get towards the ropes.
PERCY: Papa Nurvy's putting the boots to Jonathan. He’s turning the heat up.
Nirvana pulls JA to his feet and shoves him into his corner and follows with a knee to the midsection doubling him over. He hooks Alexander in a front facelock and lifts him up setting him on the top turnbuckle. He reaches out and tags Redrum who climbs in as Nirvana climbs up to the second to hook JA around the head.
PERCY: This doesn’t look good.
CAT: This looks awesome.
Redrum joins his partner on the middle turnbuckle and hooks JA as well before both men lift him up for a suplex.
PERCY: Don’t do this!!!
The Carnies lift JA all the way up and hold him for a few seconds before ultimately falling backwards. The three men collide with the mat as JA hits hard and rolls into the ropes clutching at the small of his back.
PERCY: OH MY GAWD!!!
CAT: That was great!
CROWD: Holy shit! Holy shit! Holy shit!
Nirvana rolls out of the ring as Redrum pulls JA to the center of the ring and makes the cover hooking both legs. A-Ref slides into position.
1…
2…
Thr…….
Tap dives into the ring and breaks up the count.
PERCY: Tapioca just saved this match for his team.
A-Ref escorts Tap out of the ring as Nirvana slides back into the ring behind the refs back. He pulls JA to his feet and scoops him up onto his shoulders, spins him around a few times, and then drops him with an F5.
PERCY: EMBRACE NIRVANA!
Redrum scrambles to make the cover and hooks both legs as A-Ref turns around just in time to see it. Nirvana masterfully exits the ring as if he were never there.
PERCY: I think this one is over...
CAT: C'mon, Ref! Get your ass in position!
1….
2…..
3!!!
PERCY: The Carnies did it!
RHONDA ARMSTRONG: Here are your winners by pinfall, THE ORIGINAL CARNIES!
William Saint and Tapioca climb into the ring as Jonathan pulls himself into a seated position using the ring ropes. Redrum joins Nirvana outside of the ring, and they backup towards the entrance celebrating while the three men converse in the ring.
PERCY: That’s got to be a tough loss. They had everything working for them and then they lost control of the match.
CAT: Oh well, losses happen. Grow up and move on.
William Saints hands are on his hips as he turns his back on Tapioca who is checking on Jonathan. Before either man can react William Saint grabs Tapioca by the back of his head, lifts him up high and drives him face first into the mat with a reverse chokeslam.
PERCY: What the fuck?!
He holds on, lifts him up and drives him down again before lifting him up and driving him into the mat for a third reverse chokeslam.
PERCY: William Saint has snapped!
CAT: This is awesome!
Jonathan looks at William who is frothing at the mouth as he looks down at the damage he’s done. JA gets to his feet and approached William only to be blasted in the face with a hard right hand knocking him back into the ropes. He stumbles forward as Saint kicks him in the midsection doubling him over. With ease he hoists him up and drives him onto the back of Tapioca with a sitdown powerbomb.
PERCY: Done deal!!!!
He yanks Jonathan to his feet and throws him face first to the mat. He grabs his left leg and grapevines around his before leaning backwards and locking JA in an inverted STF.
PERCY: He’s gonna kill him! He’s got a bad back!
CAT: Do the crime, do the time.
PERCY: What crime? This is despicable!
Jonathan slams his hand against the mat violently as William pulls harder on the move, almost pulling him in half.
PERCY: Is no one gonna come help him?
Tapioca gets to his feet and stumbles over grabbing William and breaking the hold. William Saint grabs Tapioca, lifts him up and drives him down hard into the downed Jonathan with a sitdown Urinage.
CAT: The Acidbath!
Officials flood the ring and grab William Saint by his massive arms and pull him away from the wreckage. More officials flood the ring and check on Jonathan and Tapioca as William screams at the two men.
PERCY: What did we just witness?
CAT: Awesomeness.
PERCY: We've got to go to commercial break to deal with the carnage out here. We'll be right back!
ONLY ON SHOWTIME!
CAT: Damn right! PAW Patrol versus The Carnies, and it's go time!
RHONDA ARMSTRONG: The following contest is a tag team match, and is scheduled for one fall or submission...
"Instant Major Felony" By The Goddamn Gallows hits and after the intro plays REDЯUM comes out from the back with a great big smile across his lips. In his hands he carries balloons and his curved clown horn. He darts around the entry way, seemingly out of his damn mind! He does a cartwheel on the ramp and scurries around the stage. Behind him in the curtain, Nirvana stands with his arms crossed over his chest. Redrum then smiles, laughs, and honks his horn as he scurries down towards the ring, his movements erratic and unpredictable. Nirvana follows more seriously, adjusting his mask as he goes.
RHONDA ARMSTRONG: Introducing first, weighting in at a combined weight of 538 pounds, they are the team of Redrum and 'The Midnight King' Nirvana, THE ORIGINAL CARNIES!
REDЯUM runs and slides into the ring before chasing the referee around the ring wildly flailing his arms, while Nirvana uses the steel steps on the outside to get up on the apron, and then push himself between the ropes. REDЯUM laughs as he hops on the top rope and waves out to the crowd, taking off his ring jacket while he sits on the top rope and bounces, waiting to unleash his silly antics. Nirvana watches all of this approvingly, but keeps one wary eye on the entrance for their opponents.
CAT: Those guys are weird.
PERCY: They’re awesome. What's not to love about a deranged clown and a elderly masked man?
CAT: Um....everything?
“Princes of the Universe” by Queen plays as Jonathan Alexander and Tapioca Joe step out onto the stage and head towards the ring, William Saint close behind. Neither man addresses the crowd as Jonathan rolls inside first followed by Joe who climbs into the ring through the ropes.
PERCY: Neither of these men look to be in the greatest of moods.
CAT: They both suffered a loss last go round so they’re probably taking things more seriously.
JA stalks over and grabs Redrum and throws him to the mat before grabbing Nirvana and tossing him out of the ring over the top rope.
PERCY: What the hell was that about?
A-Ref calls for the bell as JA returns to Redrum and stomps away on his back and neck area. He pulls him to his feet and scoops him up slamming him to the mat hard with a bodyslam. JA backs his way into the ropes before returning with a leaping knee to the chest.
CAT: Wow. I don’t think Jonathan is in the greatest of moods right now.
PERCY: He definitely is being a bit more aggressive than usual.
JA drops another knee into his chest before jerking him to his feet and hooking him in a front facelock. He hoists him up with a fisherman suplex and spikes him into the center of the ring with a brainbuster. He makes the cover and hooks the far leg.
1…
2…
PERCY: Redrum with the kickout.
JA pulls the clown back to his feet and grabs him in a side headlock before flipping him over to his back. He grinds in the hold as Redrum tries to break free, pulling at his hands. JA refuses to release the hold as he squeezes tighter. Redrum shifts his weight and puts JA on his back as A-Ref slides into position.
1..
2…
CAT: Jonathan with the kickout. Redrum almost caught him slipping.
JA shifts back into a seated side headlock. Redrum struggles to his feet and shoots JA into the ropes who returns with a shoulder tackle that puts him on the mat. JA pulls Redrum to his feet and shoves him into his corner before tagging in Joe.
PERCY: Tapioca with the tag.
Joe steps into the ring and fires off a hard right to the midsection before pulling him away from the corner. Joe fires off a European uppercut to the jaw that knocks him back into the corner. Redrum stumbles out of the corner as Tap scoops him up and drives him into the mat with a sidewalk slam.
PERCY: This match has been all PAW Patrol.
Tap pulls Redrum to his feet and shoots him across the ring catching him with a clothesline as he returns before dropping an elbow across his chest and making the cover.
1…
2…
CAT: Redrum with the kickout! He really needs to get to his corner and tag!
Tap pulls Redrum to his feet and locks in a front facelock before backing into his corner and tagging in Jonathan who climbs in and grabs a front facelock. The two men lift the deranged clown up high and spike him into the mat with a double brainbuster.
PERCY: Vicious move!
CAT: He just got brained!
JA rolls Redrum over and makes the cover driving his forearm into his face as he does.
1…
2…
Thr…
PERCY: Redrum just gets the shoulder up. The clown showing great resiliency, but in order to win this match, The Carnies are going to have to pull off some offense!
JA yanks Redrum up to his feet and shoves him into the ropes. He throws a hard right but the clown ducks underneath and strikes the opposite side. JA turns around to face him as Redrum catches him with a spinning heel kick that floors him.
PERCY: Redrum needs to tag here.
CAT: Listen to this crowd! They are behind The Carnies, especially after the isolation of Redrum.
Redrum tries to drag himself towards his corner as JA rolls onto his stomach and grabs his ankle stopping his movement.
CAT: Jonathan looking to keep him planted.
PERCY: You have to admit no matter how one sided this may seem, Tap & Joe are working top notch as a team here.
Redrum forces himself to his feet as JA keeps a hold of his ankle. JA spins him around to face him but as he does Redrum leaps into the air and catches him with a step up enziguri to the back of the head. The clown rolls towards his corner and tags in Nirvana, who climbs into the ring as quick as he can.
PERCY: The Carnies with a chance get some momentum going.
Nirvana connects with a knife edge chop as JA makes it to his feet that causes him to clutch his chest in pain.
CROWD: WHooooooo!
The Midnight King steps forward and wraps his arms around JA before flipping him over his head with a belly to belly suplex. As JA lands Nirvana steps over and stomps away on him as he tries to cover up and get towards the ropes.
PERCY: Papa Nurvy's putting the boots to Jonathan. He’s turning the heat up.
Nirvana pulls JA to his feet and shoves him into his corner and follows with a knee to the midsection doubling him over. He hooks Alexander in a front facelock and lifts him up setting him on the top turnbuckle. He reaches out and tags Redrum who climbs in as Nirvana climbs up to the second to hook JA around the head.
PERCY: This doesn’t look good.
CAT: This looks awesome.
Redrum joins his partner on the middle turnbuckle and hooks JA as well before both men lift him up for a suplex.
PERCY: Don’t do this!!!
The Carnies lift JA all the way up and hold him for a few seconds before ultimately falling backwards. The three men collide with the mat as JA hits hard and rolls into the ropes clutching at the small of his back.
PERCY: OH MY GAWD!!!
CAT: That was great!
CROWD: Holy shit! Holy shit! Holy shit!
Nirvana rolls out of the ring as Redrum pulls JA to the center of the ring and makes the cover hooking both legs. A-Ref slides into position.
1…
2…
Thr…….
Tap dives into the ring and breaks up the count.
PERCY: Tapioca just saved this match for his team.
A-Ref escorts Tap out of the ring as Nirvana slides back into the ring behind the refs back. He pulls JA to his feet and scoops him up onto his shoulders, spins him around a few times, and then drops him with an F5.
PERCY: EMBRACE NIRVANA!
Redrum scrambles to make the cover and hooks both legs as A-Ref turns around just in time to see it. Nirvana masterfully exits the ring as if he were never there.
PERCY: I think this one is over...
CAT: C'mon, Ref! Get your ass in position!
1….
2…..
3!!!
PERCY: The Carnies did it!
RHONDA ARMSTRONG: Here are your winners by pinfall, THE ORIGINAL CARNIES!
William Saint and Tapioca climb into the ring as Jonathan pulls himself into a seated position using the ring ropes. Redrum joins Nirvana outside of the ring, and they backup towards the entrance celebrating while the three men converse in the ring.
PERCY: That’s got to be a tough loss. They had everything working for them and then they lost control of the match.
CAT: Oh well, losses happen. Grow up and move on.
William Saints hands are on his hips as he turns his back on Tapioca who is checking on Jonathan. Before either man can react William Saint grabs Tapioca by the back of his head, lifts him up high and drives him face first into the mat with a reverse chokeslam.
PERCY: What the fuck?!
He holds on, lifts him up and drives him down again before lifting him up and driving him into the mat for a third reverse chokeslam.
PERCY: William Saint has snapped!
CAT: This is awesome!
Jonathan looks at William who is frothing at the mouth as he looks down at the damage he’s done. JA gets to his feet and approached William only to be blasted in the face with a hard right hand knocking him back into the ropes. He stumbles forward as Saint kicks him in the midsection doubling him over. With ease he hoists him up and drives him onto the back of Tapioca with a sitdown powerbomb.
PERCY: Done deal!!!!
He yanks Jonathan to his feet and throws him face first to the mat. He grabs his left leg and grapevines around his before leaning backwards and locking JA in an inverted STF.
PERCY: He’s gonna kill him! He’s got a bad back!
CAT: Do the crime, do the time.
PERCY: What crime? This is despicable!
Jonathan slams his hand against the mat violently as William pulls harder on the move, almost pulling him in half.
PERCY: Is no one gonna come help him?
Tapioca gets to his feet and stumbles over grabbing William and breaking the hold. William Saint grabs Tapioca, lifts him up and drives him down hard into the downed Jonathan with a sitdown Urinage.
CAT: The Acidbath!
Officials flood the ring and grab William Saint by his massive arms and pull him away from the wreckage. More officials flood the ring and check on Jonathan and Tapioca as William screams at the two men.
PERCY: What did we just witness?
CAT: Awesomeness.
PERCY: We've got to go to commercial break to deal with the carnage out here. We'll be right back!
ONLY ON SHOWTIME!
{GZW vs PAW}
Singles Match
John Champa versus Johnny Raike
PERCY: It's time for a grudge match that's been brewing for quite sometime.
CAT: That's right, Percy. Johnny Raike called out John Champa back when the GZW first showed on the scene, but Champa pretty much snubbed Raike by not even acknowledging him.
PERCY: Yeah, and then he went on to make fun of him after Raike had already moved on with his life.
CAT: But finally we're going to get the chance to see what the GZW is made of....or at least what's left of it after that heinous attack by The BombTrax.
PERCY: Yeah, I still can't believe this guy's been cleared to wrestle, but here we go.
RHONDA ARMSTRONG: The following contest is scheduled for one fall or submission, and is a GZW versus PAW match!
As the singing starts for 'Pure Morning' by Placebo Johnny emerges from behind the curtain, sauntering, lost in the music, and running his hands sensually over his own chest.
RHONDA ARMSTRONG: Introducing first, coming to us from Astoria, Queens, New York, and weighting in at 195 pounds, he is the current Titans of the Midway Champion, 'The Thigh High Thriller', Everyone's favorite 'fuckboi', JOHNNY RAIKE!!
He makes his way to the ring, the Titans of the Midway Championship hanging loosely from his waist as he acknowledges the more attractive members of the crowd. After handing out some of his trademark business cards, he enters the ring, and leans against a corner to await the match to start.
CAT: Johnny's looking good as usual, more than eager to get this show on the road.
PERCY: Well, he's been waiting long enough, Cat.
As time drags on it appears that Johnny will have to wait even longer as A-Ref and Rhonda confer with each other in confusion at the lack of appearance by John Champa. Finally, tired of sitting on the sidelines, Johnny joins the conversation, when all three are interrupted by "Ladies and Gentleman" by Saliva, and the five foot two inch owner of PAW, Lady Munin, steps out on stage with mic in hand. She has a look of disappointment on her face, and she holds her hand up, which surprisingly causes the entire arena to go silent. She lifts the mic to her lips before looking down into the ring at Johnny Raike.
LADY MUNIN: Johnny, I am sorry to say that there will be no match tonight. Not only has Champa been ruled unfit to compete, but as of tonight the takeover is officially over.
PERCY: What? What does she mean the Takeover is over?
CAT: Sounds like GZW cut their losses, and took off.
Raike shakes his head inside the ring, obviously upset, and places his hands on his hips as the fans boo at the fact that there isn't going to be a match with their favorite 'fuckboi'. Lady Munin pulls the mic away from her lips, obviously no more pleased than Raike or the crowd, but with nothing further to say, she makes her way back through the curtain. Johnny paces the ring a few more moments by himself, and then looks out at the crowd and shrugs his shoulders, holding his hands out at his side in a 'What're you gonna do' manner. The fans begin to cheer as he hops from the ring, and makes his way around ringside, chatting with the fans, and slapping a few hands when they are offered. He eventually makes a complete circuit before making his way up the ramp, disappointment still clear on his face.
PERCY: I can't believe this. I was really looking forward to Champa versus Raike.
CAT: I feel like we got robbed, but the bigger story is what happened with The Takeover?
PERCY: I guess we're going to have to find out more details about that at some other time, but for right now, let's shoot backstage to see what's going on in the halls of the Pure Arena.
CAT: That's right, Percy. Johnny Raike called out John Champa back when the GZW first showed on the scene, but Champa pretty much snubbed Raike by not even acknowledging him.
PERCY: Yeah, and then he went on to make fun of him after Raike had already moved on with his life.
CAT: But finally we're going to get the chance to see what the GZW is made of....or at least what's left of it after that heinous attack by The BombTrax.
PERCY: Yeah, I still can't believe this guy's been cleared to wrestle, but here we go.
RHONDA ARMSTRONG: The following contest is scheduled for one fall or submission, and is a GZW versus PAW match!
As the singing starts for 'Pure Morning' by Placebo Johnny emerges from behind the curtain, sauntering, lost in the music, and running his hands sensually over his own chest.
RHONDA ARMSTRONG: Introducing first, coming to us from Astoria, Queens, New York, and weighting in at 195 pounds, he is the current Titans of the Midway Champion, 'The Thigh High Thriller', Everyone's favorite 'fuckboi', JOHNNY RAIKE!!
He makes his way to the ring, the Titans of the Midway Championship hanging loosely from his waist as he acknowledges the more attractive members of the crowd. After handing out some of his trademark business cards, he enters the ring, and leans against a corner to await the match to start.
CAT: Johnny's looking good as usual, more than eager to get this show on the road.
PERCY: Well, he's been waiting long enough, Cat.
As time drags on it appears that Johnny will have to wait even longer as A-Ref and Rhonda confer with each other in confusion at the lack of appearance by John Champa. Finally, tired of sitting on the sidelines, Johnny joins the conversation, when all three are interrupted by "Ladies and Gentleman" by Saliva, and the five foot two inch owner of PAW, Lady Munin, steps out on stage with mic in hand. She has a look of disappointment on her face, and she holds her hand up, which surprisingly causes the entire arena to go silent. She lifts the mic to her lips before looking down into the ring at Johnny Raike.
LADY MUNIN: Johnny, I am sorry to say that there will be no match tonight. Not only has Champa been ruled unfit to compete, but as of tonight the takeover is officially over.
PERCY: What? What does she mean the Takeover is over?
CAT: Sounds like GZW cut their losses, and took off.
Raike shakes his head inside the ring, obviously upset, and places his hands on his hips as the fans boo at the fact that there isn't going to be a match with their favorite 'fuckboi'. Lady Munin pulls the mic away from her lips, obviously no more pleased than Raike or the crowd, but with nothing further to say, she makes her way back through the curtain. Johnny paces the ring a few more moments by himself, and then looks out at the crowd and shrugs his shoulders, holding his hands out at his side in a 'What're you gonna do' manner. The fans begin to cheer as he hops from the ring, and makes his way around ringside, chatting with the fans, and slapping a few hands when they are offered. He eventually makes a complete circuit before making his way up the ramp, disappointment still clear on his face.
PERCY: I can't believe this. I was really looking forward to Champa versus Raike.
CAT: I feel like we got robbed, but the bigger story is what happened with The Takeover?
PERCY: I guess we're going to have to find out more details about that at some other time, but for right now, let's shoot backstage to see what's going on in the halls of the Pure Arena.
The scene opens up on Flaming Youth as he's leaning against a wall, half hidden by a large spool of wiring used to create the ring ropes. He watches a row of doors, each leading into a locker room, when from around the corner steps Alexandra Kelly, already half dressed for her Main Event match later in the evening. She pushes one of the doors open and enters, letting it fall closed behind her. Youth smirks, and reaches into his pocket, where he produces a cell phone. He runs his thumb across the screen to unlock it, and then dials the number on the key pad before lifting it to his ear. After a few rings, a voice pics up on the other end.
YOUTH: Yeah, Ji...Munin just stopped me on my way to catering and asked me if I had seen you. She told me if I do, to relay the message that she needs to see Alexandra Kelly in her office pronto.
Some mumbling comes through the phone, and Youth rolls his eyes, shaking his head.
YOUTH: JI! I don't know why she didn't just text you herself. I'm just the messenger. I figured when I made it to catering and didn't see you, I might as well call you myself. Listen, things are probably a little hairy between Kelly and I considering what she did to my partner last week, but if I have to, I'll go tell her myself....right...yeah....good call. I'll let you deal with it then. Alright, catch you later.
And with that he closed out the call, and slipped the phone back into his pocket. After only a few moments after his call, Ji was seen rounding the same corner Kelly had. He stops at the locker room door and gives it a respectful knock. When Kelly answers, the two exchange a quick conversation, and then start towards Munin's office. Youth slips out of his hiding spot, looks at the camera, and winks.
YOUTH: All too easy.
The scene fades to ringside.
THE BOX OFFICE
Hosted by Cross Recoba
Special Guest: The French Mime Assassins (w/Francis Ford Cuppola)
The announce team has disappeared for a brief intermission, and when the cameras shift over to the ring, there is a custom desk with the PAW Logo on the front, along with a comfortable looking chair positioned on one side of the squared circle. On the other side is a plush sofa, a few decorative potted plants, and a sign made up of hundreds of light bulbs that read 'The Box Office'. The lights dim in the arena as Joe Walsh's 'Turn to Stone' comes across the speakers, and the sign in the ring flashes to life, along with a montage on the screen above the ramp way of tickets being tacked off of a roll. The fans jeer and boo in disgust as they already know what to expect from the cocksure owner of the sign and song. The lights focus on the entrance to the ramp as Cross Recoba comes through the curtain, wearing a neatly pressed Armani suit, with a brown leather brief case in one hand, and a cane in the other. He brushes his shag haircut off his eyes and looks at the crowd, instinctively clutching the crucifix necklace that hangs from his neck. He walks to the ring with purpose, albeit slower because of the use of his cane, only looking away from the ring to answer hecklers in the crowd. He makes his way up the steps and onto the apron, and smiles at his disapproving audience before stepping through the ropes. He steps over to the desk and sets his briefcase down, grabbing up one of the three microphones sitting upon the surface. The lights remain dim everywhere else in the arena, except for directly over the ring where Cross Recoba prepares to address the PAW Universe.
CROSS RECOBA: Hello, and welcome once again to The Box Office, I of course, am the only man that matters tonight and every other night, Cross Recoba!
Cross pauses for the applause he feels he deserves, but instead is showered with boo's.
CROSS RECOBA: You know...I was about to say how nice it is to be back in the Pure Arena after another one of the company’s lengthy and pointless sojourns out of the great, mostly still underwater, state of Louisiana but forget it. Thanks for, once again, proving exactly why the French sold this forsaken state in the first place.
Boos rain down as Cross wets his lips, soaking up the crowd energy and preparing to spew more vitriol.
CROSS RECOBA: This is the best heat you can muster? Really, Purity, Louisiana? So-called home of Pure Amusement Wrestling? You guys must be happy to see us back in town. Proof, once more, that this federation attracts every hick, yokel, redneck and Democrat this damn state has to offer.
More boos, louder, a veritable raucous hate-filled ovation, much to Recoba’s delight.
CROSS RECOBA: Well, save the enthusiasm for a federation that matters cause anyway you look at it we’re bringing you the same tired programming we brought you the last time we were here, excluding, of course, anything I have to say. I mean… come on. Press is STILL Champion. Johnny Raike ISN’T dead, although from what I hear GZW is.
The Sicilian gives a snide aside smirk before continuing.
CROSS RECOBA: Alex Kelly and Jack Nomad are still together in spite of being the worst dressed, worst paired couple this side of Kimye, Calvin Harris is what constitutes as our last vestige of hope in the title picture, and to top it all off I’m bringing to you tonight, live, for a guaranteed 15 minutes of what promises to be ‘solid’ air-time… A couple of Mimes.
More boos. Cross nods with sheer disappointment on his face as 'La Marseillaise' begins. All eyes turn to the ramp where the French Mime Assassins stride out with Francis Ford Cuppola slickly dressed, as per usual, leading the way. In the ring, Cross Recoba shakes his head at the sight, rolling his eyes and continues to announce their arrival as they march down the rampway towards him.
CROSS RECOBA: Let’s see. Blah, blah, blah. The obligatory introduction hyping these clowns—oop, sorry, ‘Mimes’, isn’t entirely necessary as I’m sure the man joining them as their manager will likely do plenty of that on his own in spite of being highly unqualified to so much as tie his own shoelaces or tell the time.
The crowd jeers and boos, either for the mimes and Francis or for Recoba’s antics.
CROSS RECOBA: And here they are folk—
Francis brashly tugs the microphone out of Recoba’s hand.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Gimme that, you hippie.
Recoba looks bemused, willingly stepping back to watch the show commence. Francis motions to the mimes to sit down. They don’t. They, instead, opt to stand ominously on either side of Francis. Francis swallows uncomfortably as the crowd quiets down.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Thank you, Chris.
Without a mic, you can still here Cross Recoba correcting Francis’ mispronunciation of his name.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Yes, I know that.
Francis looks around with confusion.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Where the hell’s the damned teleprompter?
He frantically searches for a teleprompter to feed him lines but there isn’t one. Francis gives an aggravated sigh, speaking almost solely to himself.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Cheap place. All right. Fine. Guess I’m just going to have to wing it and provide the same top-notch entertainment I always do.
Francis’ looks out at the audience as though they hadn’t been present the past few moments, fixes his collar, checks his teeth and fixes his hair in a nonexistent mirror then puts on his best smile for the audience.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Hello, Cleveland!
The fans boo.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Thank you!
Through wide gritted tooth smile you can hear Francis mumble ‘wait for applause to die down’ of which there is none, then he continues.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: I’m very honored to be here at this speaking engagement.
Cross tries to chime in to correct Francis, but Francis is already on his way so what’s the use. Sweat has begun to pool on his forehead. Francis dabs at it liberally with his pocket handkerchief.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: When Lady Munin first called me up and asked if I would speak to you kids, she was naked of course.
He pauses with a smirk to the fans and dabs some more sweat from his brow. Recoba lifts his palm to his face and shakes his head.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Whilst in her birthday suit, she wanted me to impart to all of you just how damned important it is…
He pauses, the din of the crowd rises.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Not to bet thousands of dollars against your own tag-team.
The crowd boos. The mimes suddenly muscle in on Francis who shifts forward and turns to face them and nervously raises his hands in defense.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Now hold up, hold up. Hear me out you wily-face-painted little Frenchmen. In my defense, I thought the Carnies were due!
The mimes intimidate at him, but it’s clear Francis has a silver-lining to his story.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Look, watching you pull off a victory over my brother and his failed excuse for a tag-team partner last week at Whacked 13 or something, I learned a valuable lesson, and this is precisely why Munin asked me to come out here tonight. No, not to come out and speak in detail about her relentless nude phone call fascination with me, or the extensive number of erotic pictures she sends me on a daily basis on the Twitter machine in some bizarre courting ritual, which I will deny vehemently if anyone should ever question me in the name of her “honor”, (even though I doubt she has any.)
Francis laughs heartily, more sweat on his forehead, a string of laughter ripples through the crowd. Then Francis eyes the mimes in front of him with a clear innocent plea for mercy.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: All that said, I’m here to absolve myself to you both, and to everyone else, not to mention to purge my guilt over my accrual of excessive gambling debts. I can cover them, by the way, if anyone was worried.
More sweat. More handkerchief. Always awkward.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: But, what I’m trying to say is I was wrong, okay? Apparently, my initial attempts at gambling on your abilities and failing made me reign back on trusting you with further betting, so I compensated by just assuming you’d lose every match and bet against you, cause, let’s be honest, you botched that Tag-Team Tropolis thing, so it isn’t like I was entirely wrong, then, seeing as you should have won but didn’t you damned idjits.
The mimes are about ready to pound Francis. Francis gets extra defensive.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Calm down, calm down. I said I was wrong! What more do you want from me? It’s not my fault I’m incapable of apologizing! You know how men are! Besides, I have a rare illness that renders me completely incapable of saying the word S….ry. It’s crazy.
Clenched white-gloved fists lock in tighter, exaggeratedly angry looks from the mimes who are well past the point of hearing Francis out. Francis gulps and wipes more sweat from his forehead.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Okay, look, I get it. You’re REALLY upset because I can’t seem to find Rodney, right? And, yeah, you have an issue with my bourgeoisie lifestyle. I can totally see where this is going. Any student of history like myself can identify the circularity of events such as these. You’re French. I took your prized teacher away, and I have no idea what kind of cake you eat. This is like a French Revolution remake, right? Or prequel? Whatever, look TONY CHU is the one you should blame, seeing as he’s the one claiming to be king right now, so wherever you two keep your guillotine… behead him.
Perhaps it’s the promise of a live beheading, but the crowd is on their feet watching with interest as Francis backs his way around the ring, the mimes following imposingly after him glaring and mugging at him with evil intentions. Cross Recoba, seated on the lip of his desk, watches with fascination wondering how this episode might end. By the time Francis makes it around the ring and ends up back where he started he’s clearly out of breath and waving the proverbial white flag with the Mimes in close intimidating pursuit.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Okay, okay, okay, I can fix this if you give me a second to catch my breath.
Francis doubles over and wheezes loudly and annoyingly into the microphone for several agonizingly loud moments before one of the mimes, let’s just assume it’s Comme Çi to avoid further unnecessary confusion, angrily grips Francis’ shoulder and forces him to stand. Francis is wide-eyed and terrified.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: All right! Look! No need to kill an already winded old man! Look at that giant screen over the rampway. It’ll solve everything.
With that cue, all eyes including those of the angry French Mime Assassins are diverted to the PAWtron where the scrolling letters reveal:
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Damn. Someone needs to fire that tron writer guy. Those were supposed to be actual pouty faces.
The Mimes glare at him, but the tron isn’t finished. Those initial scrolling words complete their trek off the screen and reveal the flashing:
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Damn, that should say Francis. Is that a new thing? When did they shorten the length of telephone numbers?
Francis looks to Cross who is downright bewildered at Francis by this point and simply shrugs his shoulders. Francis dismisses the question and looks to the Mimes.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: So you see? That same message should appear across the television screen of everyone watching at home. And when they call in, I’ve got G-reg, or Greg, or whatever he wants to be called these days, and Tony waiting backstage to answer the phones. Like an old-fashioned telethon! We’ll have your beloved Rodney back to you within the hour. Isn’t live television great?
Even without a mic you can still pick up Cross Recoba’s annoyed tone of voice as he points out that this is a taped show. Francis swallows hard, wipes more sweat from his forehead, and looks at the mimes apologetically.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Well… okay, maybe not within the hour, but it’s definitely going to happen within the month.
The Mimes are displeased.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: ...maybe two.
Their gloved fists clench and raise at the ready to assault Francis whose eyes close tightly in preparation for the assault that’s about to hit him.
…: Not so fast.
Francis’ eyes light up, as he turns with everyone in unison to look up at the rampway where, by the grace of whatever god Francis just prayed to, stands Rodney P.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: RODNEY! YOU’VE COME BACK TO US! Just in time, too. I thought I was a—
RODNEY P: Tsk, tsk, tsk. What did I tell you when last we spoke, Francis?
Rodney glares down at the ring. Francis jogs his memory.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Uhhhh, I think it was something about being hungry.
Rodney shakes his head with a chuckle. Behind appear two large men on either side of him. For the one think Hulk Hogan, for the other think Razor Ramon/Scott Hall, and you’ve got the mental image of the imposing professionals flanking Rodney P.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Hey, who are those two goons behind you? Are those your assistants? They look awfully muscle-y.
Rodney’s grin grows more, dare I say, wicked now that Francis has brought it up. Rodney stands tall and proud, allowing the two towering men to move out in front of him with powerful-looking folded arms.
RODNEY P: I told you my plans, Francis. But as usual you were too wrapped up in your own ignorance to hear me. I told you I would come back with a team of my own, and here they are. I present to you, Francis, live and in the flesh: THE LIVING LEGENDS, “The Heromaniac” Terry Hero and “The Burning Man” Kris Angel.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Those are cool names, but, I don’t see what this has to do with you coming back to work for me. The mimes miss you, Rod.
RODNEY P: ENOUGH! I did exactly what I said I would. I scoured the entire North American continent for the strongest, the toughest talent around, and here they are, ready to make mincemeat out of your precious mimes, and there’s no silly antics you can pull to get you out of this.
Francis chuckles playfully.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: That sounds like a dare, Rodney. I’m pretty certain I can find some way to screw this whole thing up.
Rodney’s evil grin continues as he shakes his head. His tag-team match his evil glare into the ring at the Mimes and Francis.
RODNEY P: Not this time, Francie. The match is already booked for next Wicked. Your pathetic mimes against my Living Legends. Loser leaves town, with the added stipulation that the manager of the losing team has to become the winning team’s assistant. How does that sound old, man?
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Why that sounds horrible.
The mimes glare at Francis. Francis quickly backpedals.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: I mean for you, cause… it’s obvious your team will be the one to lose.
The mimes are mildly satisfied. Rodney smirks.
RODNEY P: Get ready to lose, Francis.
The Living Legends mug at him, Kris Angel swipes his fingers along the bottom of his chin in a curse gesture that dramatically offends the mimes, while Terry Hero flexes his massive arms in a show of powerful intimidation. Francis gulps. Then the Living Legends and Rodney exit. Francis scratches his chin nervously as the mimes eye him with angry confusion at what’s just transpired. The cameras fade.
CROSS RECOBA: Hello, and welcome once again to The Box Office, I of course, am the only man that matters tonight and every other night, Cross Recoba!
Cross pauses for the applause he feels he deserves, but instead is showered with boo's.
CROSS RECOBA: You know...I was about to say how nice it is to be back in the Pure Arena after another one of the company’s lengthy and pointless sojourns out of the great, mostly still underwater, state of Louisiana but forget it. Thanks for, once again, proving exactly why the French sold this forsaken state in the first place.
Boos rain down as Cross wets his lips, soaking up the crowd energy and preparing to spew more vitriol.
CROSS RECOBA: This is the best heat you can muster? Really, Purity, Louisiana? So-called home of Pure Amusement Wrestling? You guys must be happy to see us back in town. Proof, once more, that this federation attracts every hick, yokel, redneck and Democrat this damn state has to offer.
More boos, louder, a veritable raucous hate-filled ovation, much to Recoba’s delight.
CROSS RECOBA: Well, save the enthusiasm for a federation that matters cause anyway you look at it we’re bringing you the same tired programming we brought you the last time we were here, excluding, of course, anything I have to say. I mean… come on. Press is STILL Champion. Johnny Raike ISN’T dead, although from what I hear GZW is.
The Sicilian gives a snide aside smirk before continuing.
CROSS RECOBA: Alex Kelly and Jack Nomad are still together in spite of being the worst dressed, worst paired couple this side of Kimye, Calvin Harris is what constitutes as our last vestige of hope in the title picture, and to top it all off I’m bringing to you tonight, live, for a guaranteed 15 minutes of what promises to be ‘solid’ air-time… A couple of Mimes.
More boos. Cross nods with sheer disappointment on his face as 'La Marseillaise' begins. All eyes turn to the ramp where the French Mime Assassins stride out with Francis Ford Cuppola slickly dressed, as per usual, leading the way. In the ring, Cross Recoba shakes his head at the sight, rolling his eyes and continues to announce their arrival as they march down the rampway towards him.
CROSS RECOBA: Let’s see. Blah, blah, blah. The obligatory introduction hyping these clowns—oop, sorry, ‘Mimes’, isn’t entirely necessary as I’m sure the man joining them as their manager will likely do plenty of that on his own in spite of being highly unqualified to so much as tie his own shoelaces or tell the time.
The crowd jeers and boos, either for the mimes and Francis or for Recoba’s antics.
CROSS RECOBA: And here they are folk—
Francis brashly tugs the microphone out of Recoba’s hand.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Gimme that, you hippie.
Recoba looks bemused, willingly stepping back to watch the show commence. Francis motions to the mimes to sit down. They don’t. They, instead, opt to stand ominously on either side of Francis. Francis swallows uncomfortably as the crowd quiets down.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Thank you, Chris.
Without a mic, you can still here Cross Recoba correcting Francis’ mispronunciation of his name.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Yes, I know that.
Francis looks around with confusion.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Where the hell’s the damned teleprompter?
He frantically searches for a teleprompter to feed him lines but there isn’t one. Francis gives an aggravated sigh, speaking almost solely to himself.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Cheap place. All right. Fine. Guess I’m just going to have to wing it and provide the same top-notch entertainment I always do.
Francis’ looks out at the audience as though they hadn’t been present the past few moments, fixes his collar, checks his teeth and fixes his hair in a nonexistent mirror then puts on his best smile for the audience.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Hello, Cleveland!
The fans boo.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Thank you!
Through wide gritted tooth smile you can hear Francis mumble ‘wait for applause to die down’ of which there is none, then he continues.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: I’m very honored to be here at this speaking engagement.
Cross tries to chime in to correct Francis, but Francis is already on his way so what’s the use. Sweat has begun to pool on his forehead. Francis dabs at it liberally with his pocket handkerchief.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: When Lady Munin first called me up and asked if I would speak to you kids, she was naked of course.
He pauses with a smirk to the fans and dabs some more sweat from his brow. Recoba lifts his palm to his face and shakes his head.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Whilst in her birthday suit, she wanted me to impart to all of you just how damned important it is…
He pauses, the din of the crowd rises.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Not to bet thousands of dollars against your own tag-team.
The crowd boos. The mimes suddenly muscle in on Francis who shifts forward and turns to face them and nervously raises his hands in defense.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Now hold up, hold up. Hear me out you wily-face-painted little Frenchmen. In my defense, I thought the Carnies were due!
The mimes intimidate at him, but it’s clear Francis has a silver-lining to his story.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Look, watching you pull off a victory over my brother and his failed excuse for a tag-team partner last week at Whacked 13 or something, I learned a valuable lesson, and this is precisely why Munin asked me to come out here tonight. No, not to come out and speak in detail about her relentless nude phone call fascination with me, or the extensive number of erotic pictures she sends me on a daily basis on the Twitter machine in some bizarre courting ritual, which I will deny vehemently if anyone should ever question me in the name of her “honor”, (even though I doubt she has any.)
Francis laughs heartily, more sweat on his forehead, a string of laughter ripples through the crowd. Then Francis eyes the mimes in front of him with a clear innocent plea for mercy.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: All that said, I’m here to absolve myself to you both, and to everyone else, not to mention to purge my guilt over my accrual of excessive gambling debts. I can cover them, by the way, if anyone was worried.
More sweat. More handkerchief. Always awkward.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: But, what I’m trying to say is I was wrong, okay? Apparently, my initial attempts at gambling on your abilities and failing made me reign back on trusting you with further betting, so I compensated by just assuming you’d lose every match and bet against you, cause, let’s be honest, you botched that Tag-Team Tropolis thing, so it isn’t like I was entirely wrong, then, seeing as you should have won but didn’t you damned idjits.
The mimes are about ready to pound Francis. Francis gets extra defensive.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Calm down, calm down. I said I was wrong! What more do you want from me? It’s not my fault I’m incapable of apologizing! You know how men are! Besides, I have a rare illness that renders me completely incapable of saying the word S….ry. It’s crazy.
Clenched white-gloved fists lock in tighter, exaggeratedly angry looks from the mimes who are well past the point of hearing Francis out. Francis gulps and wipes more sweat from his forehead.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Okay, look, I get it. You’re REALLY upset because I can’t seem to find Rodney, right? And, yeah, you have an issue with my bourgeoisie lifestyle. I can totally see where this is going. Any student of history like myself can identify the circularity of events such as these. You’re French. I took your prized teacher away, and I have no idea what kind of cake you eat. This is like a French Revolution remake, right? Or prequel? Whatever, look TONY CHU is the one you should blame, seeing as he’s the one claiming to be king right now, so wherever you two keep your guillotine… behead him.
Perhaps it’s the promise of a live beheading, but the crowd is on their feet watching with interest as Francis backs his way around the ring, the mimes following imposingly after him glaring and mugging at him with evil intentions. Cross Recoba, seated on the lip of his desk, watches with fascination wondering how this episode might end. By the time Francis makes it around the ring and ends up back where he started he’s clearly out of breath and waving the proverbial white flag with the Mimes in close intimidating pursuit.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Okay, okay, okay, I can fix this if you give me a second to catch my breath.
Francis doubles over and wheezes loudly and annoyingly into the microphone for several agonizingly loud moments before one of the mimes, let’s just assume it’s Comme Çi to avoid further unnecessary confusion, angrily grips Francis’ shoulder and forces him to stand. Francis is wide-eyed and terrified.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: All right! Look! No need to kill an already winded old man! Look at that giant screen over the rampway. It’ll solve everything.
With that cue, all eyes including those of the angry French Mime Assassins are diverted to the PAWtron where the scrolling letters reveal:
MIMES: YOUR PAWPAW FRANCIS IS SORRY! PLEASE FORGIVE HIM! DOUBLE POUTY FACE!
The Mimes glare at him, but the tron isn’t finished. Those initial scrolling words complete their trek off the screen and reveal the flashing:
RODNEY P I NEED YOU. WILL DO ANYTHING TO HAVE YOU BACK. MIMES PLAN TO KILL ME. PREFERABLY IN MY SLEEP. BUT THEY’RE MIMES, ROD, I DON’T THINK THEY SLEEP OR KNOW WHAT IT IS. SEND HELP. IF YOU, OR SOMEONE YOU KNOW, CAN FIND RODNEY P FOR ME, PLEASE CALL: 1- 800 – LUV – FRAN
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Damn, that should say Francis. Is that a new thing? When did they shorten the length of telephone numbers?
Francis looks to Cross who is downright bewildered at Francis by this point and simply shrugs his shoulders. Francis dismisses the question and looks to the Mimes.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: So you see? That same message should appear across the television screen of everyone watching at home. And when they call in, I’ve got G-reg, or Greg, or whatever he wants to be called these days, and Tony waiting backstage to answer the phones. Like an old-fashioned telethon! We’ll have your beloved Rodney back to you within the hour. Isn’t live television great?
Even without a mic you can still pick up Cross Recoba’s annoyed tone of voice as he points out that this is a taped show. Francis swallows hard, wipes more sweat from his forehead, and looks at the mimes apologetically.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Well… okay, maybe not within the hour, but it’s definitely going to happen within the month.
The Mimes are displeased.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: ...maybe two.
Their gloved fists clench and raise at the ready to assault Francis whose eyes close tightly in preparation for the assault that’s about to hit him.
…: Not so fast.
Francis’ eyes light up, as he turns with everyone in unison to look up at the rampway where, by the grace of whatever god Francis just prayed to, stands Rodney P.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: RODNEY! YOU’VE COME BACK TO US! Just in time, too. I thought I was a—
RODNEY P: Tsk, tsk, tsk. What did I tell you when last we spoke, Francis?
Rodney glares down at the ring. Francis jogs his memory.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Uhhhh, I think it was something about being hungry.
Rodney shakes his head with a chuckle. Behind appear two large men on either side of him. For the one think Hulk Hogan, for the other think Razor Ramon/Scott Hall, and you’ve got the mental image of the imposing professionals flanking Rodney P.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Hey, who are those two goons behind you? Are those your assistants? They look awfully muscle-y.
Rodney’s grin grows more, dare I say, wicked now that Francis has brought it up. Rodney stands tall and proud, allowing the two towering men to move out in front of him with powerful-looking folded arms.
RODNEY P: I told you my plans, Francis. But as usual you were too wrapped up in your own ignorance to hear me. I told you I would come back with a team of my own, and here they are. I present to you, Francis, live and in the flesh: THE LIVING LEGENDS, “The Heromaniac” Terry Hero and “The Burning Man” Kris Angel.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Those are cool names, but, I don’t see what this has to do with you coming back to work for me. The mimes miss you, Rod.
RODNEY P: ENOUGH! I did exactly what I said I would. I scoured the entire North American continent for the strongest, the toughest talent around, and here they are, ready to make mincemeat out of your precious mimes, and there’s no silly antics you can pull to get you out of this.
Francis chuckles playfully.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: That sounds like a dare, Rodney. I’m pretty certain I can find some way to screw this whole thing up.
Rodney’s evil grin continues as he shakes his head. His tag-team match his evil glare into the ring at the Mimes and Francis.
RODNEY P: Not this time, Francie. The match is already booked for next Wicked. Your pathetic mimes against my Living Legends. Loser leaves town, with the added stipulation that the manager of the losing team has to become the winning team’s assistant. How does that sound old, man?
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Why that sounds horrible.
The mimes glare at Francis. Francis quickly backpedals.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: I mean for you, cause… it’s obvious your team will be the one to lose.
The mimes are mildly satisfied. Rodney smirks.
RODNEY P: Get ready to lose, Francis.
The Living Legends mug at him, Kris Angel swipes his fingers along the bottom of his chin in a curse gesture that dramatically offends the mimes, while Terry Hero flexes his massive arms in a show of powerful intimidation. Francis gulps. Then the Living Legends and Rodney exit. Francis scratches his chin nervously as the mimes eye him with angry confusion at what’s just transpired. The cameras fade.
The scene opens up to a shot of The Shadow staring down at the ring from somewhere up in the rafters of the The Pure Arena. He's standing on a cat walk, high above the ring, and just past the lights used to illuminate the squared circle. His jawline is all that can be seen within the darkness of his hood, and the tension there is easily felt as he scans the interior of the arena. A slight creak from somewhere behind him causes his eyes to flash up, and he slowly turns his head to look over his shoulder. Seeing that there's nothing there, he turns his attention back to the ring. Just then, peeling out of the darkness, comes Jack Nomad, modified mop handle in hand. He brings the mop handle crashing down across the back of The Shadow, the blow hitting him so hard it throws him forwards, and right over the edge of the scaffolds railing. He manages to grab hold of the edge of the cat walk before plummeting to what would have surely been his death, or at least a full body cast. The Shadow looks up just in time to see Jack step up to the edge, his boot hovering precariously over Shadow's hand. The two men lock eyes, and a dark edge creeps into Jack's pupils. He brings the heel of his boot down just as The Shadow lets go of his own free will. The heroes hand shoots to his belt and with a flick of his wrist a grappling hook with a cable attached to the end goes flying towards a steel girder above the catwalk. It wraps around several times before finally catching, and The Shadow goes sailing above the crowd until the cable catches the catwalk. This sends him soaring under the steel mesh, and up to the other side, where he releases the cable with enough momentum to land safely back on Jack's level. He turns to face the Hardcore One with a defensive fighting stance, and Jack regards him with a wicked grin.
JACK NOMAD: At least this time I know I have the real fucktard. I'd hate for this to be too easy.
With that, Jack wades in with a right hand. The Shadow's left forearm comes up to block the blow, and he responds with a right of his own. Jack ducks out of the way of the attempt, and brings his knee up into The Shadow's gut as he follows through with the punch. The Shadow doubles over, and Jack takes that opportunity to take another swing with the modified mop handle down across The Shadow's head. The Shadow manages to shove Jack away from him, throwing the swing of the mop handle off so that it misses. Jack doesn't relent, moving in for another strike which forces The Shadow to jump back and suck in to avoid it. He sends a fist into Jack's exposed face, and the force of the blow snaps Jack's head back in surprise. The Shadow then tries to follow up the strike with a another one, this time with his feet, as he sends a sidekick hurtling towards Nomad's head. Much to his surprise Jack catches the oncoming boot, and uses The Shadow's own momentum to pull him forwards into a clothesline that drops him hard to the steel mesh of the cat walk. Just as Nomad's boot comes crashing down towards The Shadow's head, the man rolls forwards to avoid getting his head caved in. He scramble up to his feet quickly, and just as Nomad readies to pounce on him, he reaches for his belt once more, producing three small steel balls that he lets clank down to the floor.
The entire area is filled with smoke, and after only a few seconds it begins to dissipate, leaving Jack Nomad standing on the cat walk by himself. In his hands is The Shadows hooded cloak, and he stares down at it, a mask of rage filling his face. He roars as he rips the fabric to shreds, tossing it over the side to make some fans lucky day. He turns and starts making his way towards the exit, disdain evident in his very being.
JACK NOMAD: Mother fucker...
It's the last thing he says before disappearing through the exit. The cameras shift to another area of the arena.
JACK NOMAD: At least this time I know I have the real fucktard. I'd hate for this to be too easy.
With that, Jack wades in with a right hand. The Shadow's left forearm comes up to block the blow, and he responds with a right of his own. Jack ducks out of the way of the attempt, and brings his knee up into The Shadow's gut as he follows through with the punch. The Shadow doubles over, and Jack takes that opportunity to take another swing with the modified mop handle down across The Shadow's head. The Shadow manages to shove Jack away from him, throwing the swing of the mop handle off so that it misses. Jack doesn't relent, moving in for another strike which forces The Shadow to jump back and suck in to avoid it. He sends a fist into Jack's exposed face, and the force of the blow snaps Jack's head back in surprise. The Shadow then tries to follow up the strike with a another one, this time with his feet, as he sends a sidekick hurtling towards Nomad's head. Much to his surprise Jack catches the oncoming boot, and uses The Shadow's own momentum to pull him forwards into a clothesline that drops him hard to the steel mesh of the cat walk. Just as Nomad's boot comes crashing down towards The Shadow's head, the man rolls forwards to avoid getting his head caved in. He scramble up to his feet quickly, and just as Nomad readies to pounce on him, he reaches for his belt once more, producing three small steel balls that he lets clank down to the floor.
The entire area is filled with smoke, and after only a few seconds it begins to dissipate, leaving Jack Nomad standing on the cat walk by himself. In his hands is The Shadows hooded cloak, and he stares down at it, a mask of rage filling his face. He roars as he rips the fabric to shreds, tossing it over the side to make some fans lucky day. He turns and starts making his way towards the exit, disdain evident in his very being.
JACK NOMAD: Mother fucker...
It's the last thing he says before disappearing through the exit. The cameras shift to another area of the arena.
MEANWHILE
The camera focuses on Alexandra Kelly and Ji as the move down the hallway and make their way towards Munin's office. He assumed that she was back after her conversation with Raike moments ago, or at least he hoped, as the unpredictable Pixie made him a little nervous. When he reached the door he threw it open wide, and stepped out of the way so that Kelly could enter first. She nodded as she passed, and he closed the door behind her to continue on with his duties now that his job was done. Munin sat behind her desk reviewing some paper work that had just recently been left for her, but she looked up under her brow when Kelly entered the room. She let her pen come to a rest on top of the stack of papers, and leaned back in her seat so as to give Alex her full attention.
LADY MUNIN: Hello, my lovely. What can I do for you?
A look of confusion crosses Alex face, and she places her hands on her hips before cocking her head to the side.
ALEXANDRA KELLY: Ji said you wanted to see me.
It was Munin's turn to look confused, and she shook her head 'no'.
LADY MUNIN: I know better than to bother you right before a big match like tonight. Since you're here though, I will wish you good luck.
Kelly's look of confusion melted into one of wickedness, and a tight smile formed at the corner of her lips.
ALEXANDRA KELLY: Oh, my dear friend, this is going to have nothing to do with luck. Nova Wonder is going to get put back in her place tonight. I guarantee it.
Munin genuinely smiled, and nodded.
LADY MUNIN: Well then, perhaps I should say have fun at the victory party.
Alexandra Kelly nodded, and turned to make her way out the door, leaving Munin to lean back even further into her chair. A thin line creased her brow as she reached for her phone, and hit the speed dial number that would ring Ji. After a few rings, his voice could be heard bleeding through the speakers.
LADY MUNIN: Yes, Ji. That's just it....I didn't ask to see Alex. Oh...he did? I see. Thank you. No, no....keep doing what you're doing. I'll see to it.
She disconnected the call and sighed heavily.
LADY MUNIN: The BombTrax. It's always The BombTrax.
A slight smile formed at the corner of her mouth, and she just shook her head before leaning forward to resume her paperwork. The camera shoots back to ringside.
LADY MUNIN: Hello, my lovely. What can I do for you?
A look of confusion crosses Alex face, and she places her hands on her hips before cocking her head to the side.
ALEXANDRA KELLY: Ji said you wanted to see me.
It was Munin's turn to look confused, and she shook her head 'no'.
LADY MUNIN: I know better than to bother you right before a big match like tonight. Since you're here though, I will wish you good luck.
Kelly's look of confusion melted into one of wickedness, and a tight smile formed at the corner of her lips.
ALEXANDRA KELLY: Oh, my dear friend, this is going to have nothing to do with luck. Nova Wonder is going to get put back in her place tonight. I guarantee it.
Munin genuinely smiled, and nodded.
LADY MUNIN: Well then, perhaps I should say have fun at the victory party.
Alexandra Kelly nodded, and turned to make her way out the door, leaving Munin to lean back even further into her chair. A thin line creased her brow as she reached for her phone, and hit the speed dial number that would ring Ji. After a few rings, his voice could be heard bleeding through the speakers.
LADY MUNIN: Yes, Ji. That's just it....I didn't ask to see Alex. Oh...he did? I see. Thank you. No, no....keep doing what you're doing. I'll see to it.
She disconnected the call and sighed heavily.
LADY MUNIN: The BombTrax. It's always The BombTrax.
A slight smile formed at the corner of her mouth, and she just shook her head before leaning forward to resume her paperwork. The camera shoots back to ringside.
Singles Match
Calvin Harris versus CJ O'Donnell
PERCY: I wonder what Youth is up to?
CAT: You know that it's not gonna be good.
PERCY: And what about Jack Nomad and The Shadow? Things keep escelating between those two, and we still don't know anything about this guy.
CAT: All I know is that Jack Nomad has a major hard on for that guy, and he barely escaped this time. How much longer before Nomad finally gets his hands on him?
PERCY: Good question, but right now Rhonda's in the ring and we've got a main event quality match in store for us next, so take it away...
RHONDA ARMSTRONG: The following contest is a singles match, and is set for one fall or submission...
As the beginning notes of "Beast" begins to play, the arena goes to darkness. With the beats kicking in, "The Distinguished" slowly walks out with a huge smirk on his face as the fans welcome him with a chorus of boos throughout the arena.
RHONDA ARMSTRONG: Coming to the ring, weighing in at one hundred and eighty pounds, from Boston, Massachusetts, representing "The Unstable"! He is "THE DISTINGUISHED" CEE JAY OOOOOO... DDOONNNNEELLLL!!!
As O'Donnell slowly makes his way down to the ring he can not help but take in all the insults and jeers from the crowd.
Caleb reaches the end of the entrance way and is making his way up the ring steps. Once CJ gets on the top steps he raises his arms up in the air which only receives more boos from the audience tonight.
CJ enters the ring now and he takes off his black Unstable t-shirt. He rolls it into a ball and acts like he is about to toss it into the crowd but instead he drops it over the top ropes and it lands on the outside on the floor. CJ begins to stretch in the corner as he awaits for the bell to ring.
PERCY: This will be the first time we've seen CJ O'Donnell since his defeat at the hands of Press during their epic PAW Heavyweight Championship match at Heat Stroke.
CAT: In my opinion, CJ was robbed. He deserves a rematch.
PERCY: And he might just get one too, but right now Calvin Harris, the current #1 Contender, stands in the way of that, and I don't think he's much obliged to do so.
"Your Betrayal" by Bullet For My Valentine hits the arena's speakers, the guitar riff kicking it all off as the fans begin to boo. After a few seconds, the curtain is slowly peeled back, and out steps Calvin Harris, a smug expression spread over his face. He steps to the center of the stage, nodding as the fans continue to pour on their hate, and thrusts his arms out at his side, letting his head hang back, soaking it all in. When he's had enough he lets his arms fall to his side, and he starts making his way down the ramp towards ringside, heckling the crowd all the way.
RHONDA ARMSTRONG: Introducing his opponent, all the way from Chicago, Illinois. Weighing in at two hundred and twenty seven pounds. He is the #1 Contender to the PAW Heavyweight Championship, the 'Martyr of Pro Wrestling' CALVIN HARRIS!
When Calvin reaches ringside, he hops up onto the apron on his knee, pulls himself up by use of the ropes, and in one fluid motion slips between the middle ropes one leg at a time. He looks over at CJ with a shitty grin, before stepping over to the opposite corner, and climbing up to the top turnbuckle. The crowd continues to boo as he thrusts his arms out at his side once again, eating up the hate before dropping down to the mat, and turning to face his opponent.
Suddenly there is a commotion in the audience behind the commentator's table. Someone throws a chair into the ring that sails in front of O'Donnell. A large group of fans stand and scramble away to the left as a man wades through them like a killer whale throwing chairs aside. Security struggles to keep order as Aokigahara Zombie makes his way to the ring through the crowd. His face shows the effects of the match with Strick but he moves with determination. He pushes some people aside and stops short of the guardrail and grabs a microphone from the announcer's table. Aokigahara gets on a chair with one foot on the barricade and waves.
ZOMBIE: Hey, CJ. Hello! It's me, remember? I don't know what your point was on the last show so I tried to ignore it and get on with my business but you were just scratching around in my head every single day since you attacked me after my win. I scratched and scratched but I just couldn't get you out. The only way is to smash you with my head and make you leak out like blood coming out of an ear. So here I am to give you a message. You can now forget about anything else in PAW. Forget about the Heavyweight Championship. Forget about Press. Forget about this guy here. Sorry, man, calm down. CJ, there is only one thing to worry about in your immediate future and that's the target I've tacked on your back. We ain't resting until I'm satisfied you learned what it means to get int the way of my work. For now... have a good match.
He laughs and makes his way to the next aisle through the audience in much the same tumultuous way he arrived. As security and valets try to make order of the seats and the audience, we focus back to the ring. O'Donnell grabs the announcer's mic.
O'DONNELL: Who are you again? Do you actually think I know your name. You were just a causality of war. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time. So pull your panties out of your ass and eat a snickers. I hate people who complain over the most simple minded things. If you want a fight I'll give you a fight but on my terms. Now enjoy this match and I hope you brought a pad and pen with you so you take notes.
Aokigahara grins and points at O'Donnell and wags his finger up and down with a grin. Then he slowly brings the finger to his forehead and taps it a few times with the smile gone from his eyes. He backs away and leaves the seating area. Harris, having watched all of this unfold, shakes his head in disbelief, turning to the crowd to talk crap about his opponent. An incensed CJ O'Donnell comes tearing across the ring with a forearm to Calvin's back. Harris tries to spin around, but all this does is buy CJ enough time to catch him again and again across his kidney area before Harris is able to finally fall into a corner. From there, CJ changes gears, and starts driving his right fist into the mans face repeatedly.
PERCY: This certainly isn't a surprise, as there is absolutely no love lost between these two, but you gotta believe some of this hostility coming from CJ O'Donnell is because of Aokigahara Zombie!
CAT: Yeah, but that's a tale for another date. This right here is between two guys who still don't see eye to eye.
O'Donnell nails Calvin one more time before taking him by the wrist, and whipping him to the other side following close behind, ready to strike. Cavlin hits the turnbuckle hard, and stumbles forwards, only to be caught right across the throat with a lariat that damn near takes his head off. Harris thunders to the mat, but pops up quickly, but O'Donnell is there forcing him into the ropes, and whips him to the opposite side.
PERCY: An aggressive CJ O'Donnell is all over Calvin Harris. Harris on his way back now, but he ducks CJ's back elbow attempt. Coming back one more time, and he ducks the round house kick. For a third time, and OH! Harris hopped straight up and ...HURRICANRANA!
CAT: Calvin just sitting on O'Donnell's chest, and now it's his turn with the right hands!
Calvin rains right hands down into O'Donnell's face, but CJ manages to bring his legs up, and hooks both of Calvin's arms with his calves before tipping him backwards, and sitting up into a pin attempt.
1...
2...
Calvin easily gets out of the pin by swinging his legs forwards over his head, and rolling all the way up to his feet, only to throw both of them out to catch O'Donnell in the face with a short falling drop kick. O'Donnell's head snaps back to strike off the canvas, as Harris scrambles up to his feet to drop an elbow down onto CJ before going for a quick cover.
1...
2...
CJ Kicks out with authority, and comes up to a seated position, only for Harris to reach around his neck, and yank him back into a rear naked choke. O'Donnell reaches out for the ropes, but Harris pulls back, grapevining his legs around CJ's midsection to make it even that much more difficult.
PERCY: A furious exchange between these two only to end with Harris placing O'Donnell in this submission.
CAT: Yeah, and he has him all tied up in the center of the ring, with no where to go.
CJ struggles against Harris, but to no avail, as The Martyr of Professional Wrestling cinches in even tighter, like an anaconda trying to squeeze the life out of it's prey. O'Donnell, realizing that he's too far away from the ropes to reach them, ceases that coarse of action, and instead places both hands on Calvin's boot. He musters up a gust of strength, and forces one of Calvin's legs off of him, and quickly rolls over onto his stomach, dragging Harris along for the ride, still attached to his back. CJ manages to get up to his hands and knee's, Harris yanking back and forth on his neck in disbelief. O'Donnell slips one foot under him, and with an anguished effort he pushes up to a standing position. He stumbles a bit from the feat of strength, plus the extra cargo on his back, but soon rights himself. Still in the center of the ring, and with Calvin still on his back, he reaches down and hooks Calvin behind the knee's, before throwing both men straight back. Harris hit's the canvas hard with all of CJ's weight crashing down on top of him, forcing the break, and leaving both men lying on the mat.
PERCY: CJ O'Donnell got the separation, but it took a lot out of him. Both men are down, and A-Ref looks like he's going to go for a count.
CAT: I can't believe all of this escalated so quickly, Percy. We're only about five minutes into this match!
1...
2...
3...
Calvin begins to stir, and rolls towards the ropes so he can use them to get up to his feet, while O'Donnell rolls over onto his side, pushing himself halfway up onto his elbow.
4...
5...
Both men come up to their feet at the count of five, and A-Ref ceases his count, stepping back to see what was going to happen next. With Calvin near the edge of the ropes, CJ takes off towards him, but Calvin ducks his head at the last second, back dropping CJ up and over the top rope. CJ, However, has the where-with-all to grab the top rope on his way over, so he lands safely on the apron rather than the floor. When Calvin turns to survey the damage, he's surprised by a strong forearm shot to the jaw that rocks his head back. O'Donnell then grabs a handful of hair, and takes off with Calvin, ramming him head first into the nearest turnbuckle. Harris' head bounces off the pad, and he stumbles out towards the center of the ring, as CJ scrambles up the ropes to arrive at the top. As soon as Harris manages to turn around, O'Donnell takes flight, throwing his feet out in front of him, and catching Calvin flush with a Missile Drop Kick. Harris is sent crashing down to the canvas, and CJ quickly crawls over, and hooks the leg for a cover.
1...
2...
PERCY: Thre-KICK OUT! Beautiful drop kick by O'Donnell that almost got him the 1,2,3, but Harris got the shoulder up.
O'Donnell gets to his feet, and jerks Harris up with him, pushing the man into the ropes, and then sending him off with authority. Harris rebounds off the opposite side, and O'Donnell moves into position to catch him with a Power Slam, but when he scoops him up, Calvin uses his momentum to complete a forward flip right out O'Donnell's arms to land on his feet in front of him. He boots the Irishman in the bread basket, doubling him over, hooks him around the head, and spikes him off the canvas with a vicious DDT. Harris takes a second to get his faculties, and then rolls his man over to make the cover.
1...
2...
PERCY: Thre-KICK OUT! That slight hesitation cost Harris the three count I think.
CAT: Lay off him, Percy. The man just got momentum back on his side.
Harris gains his feet, leaving O'Donnell lying on the mat. He bounces off the ropes for some momentum, and when he reaches CJ's position, he leaps high into the air, bringing both knee's up to his chest, and then exploding them downwards as he drops for a double foot stomp.
PERCY: Magic Bullet Theory by Harris to O'Donnell, and CJ is rolling around holding his midsection in agony.
CAT: That's all of Calvin's weight plus the extra effort right down into CJ's guts. That's got to take the breath right out of you!
Harris watches with smug satisfaction as O'Donnell clutches at himself, and the fans pour on the hate for 'The Martyr of Professional Wrestling'. He acknowledges them with a pose, giving CJ enough time to try and work himself up to his feet. When he reaches his knee's, Harris stops his taunting of the crowd, rushes into the ropes, and then springs back, catching CJ with a Yakuza kick that damn near takes his head off. Harris drops to his knee's beside CJ, and confidently hooks the leg for a cover.
1...
2...
PERCY: THRE-KICK OUT! My God, that was almost it! CJ O'Donnell just barely getting the shoulder up off that three count.
CAT: Yeah, it's looking pretty grim now.
Harris shakes his head in disappointment as he gets to his feet, yanking CJ up with him only to scoop him up into his arms. As soon as Calvin gets him into position, CJ begins struggling, working his leg loose from Harris' grasp, and then driving his knee into the side of Calvin's head. Harris takes a few shots before finally releasing his hold all together, allowing CJ to drop down to land on his feet right in front of him. CJ switches from knee's to kicks, one to the left thigh, another to the right thigh, and finally a straight kick right to the knee that causes Calvin to drop to his other one. Now on one knee, Calvin rocks back and forth with solid kicks by CJ right to his chest, and just when it looks like CJ is about to run out of steam, he finishes the vicious blows with a roundhouse kick that snaps him back to the mat.
PERCY: CJ calls that combination of kicks, Feet Down Fail Me Now!
CAT: Clever and effective, Percy.
CJ stumbles over to the ropes, still holding his midsection, as Harris lays flat on his back in the center of the ring after taking the onslaught of kicks. Calvin rolls over onto his stomach and tries to push up to his knee's, but before he ever makes it O'Donnell comes charging over from his position, leaps into the air, and places the heel of his foot on the back of Calvin's head, spiking it back down to the mat in a curb stomp.
PERCY: IRISH KISS!! My God what impact!
CAT: This might be it!
CJ shoots the half nelson on Harris to get him rolled onto his back, and hooks the leg for the pin.
1...
2...
THRE-KICK OUT!!! Harris' shoulder thrusts off the canvas knocking CJ off of him, but Calvin falls limply over to his side afterwards as O'Donnell pounds the mat with his fist in frustration. O'Donnell eases himself onto his feet, and turns to stare down at Harris, nodding his head like a light bulb has just went off. He backs over into the farthest corner, and lowers himself, ready to spring the minute that Calvin gets to his feet. After a few seconds Calvin begins to stir, and he slowly stumbles his way to his feet. CJ thunders out of his corner, leaping into the air while at the same time lifting his knee up to line up with Calvin's head. At the last possible second Harris dodges to the left allowing O'Donnell to pass him by, and when the Irishman turns around, Harris meets him with a super kick that catches him just beneath the jaw. CJ falls backwards, but is too close to the ropes, causing him to bounce back towards Calvin, who takes off towards the opposite ropes, springboards from the second, and twists back around to catch O'Donnell right in the face with a flying right fist. Both men go crashing down to the mat, neither one able to make it back to their feet.
PERCY: MEETING KRYPTONITE! CJ O'Donnell went for his Irish Knowledge Jumping Knee, but Harris was able to get out of the way and caught him with a super kick immediately followed by his flying superman punch!
CAT: Yeah, and now their both wiped out on the mat. A-Ref's starting another count!
1...
2...
3...
PERCY: These two never fail to deliver no matter how many times we see them. Love them or hate them, they are the definition of PAW action!
4...
5...
6...
CAT: Yeah, but I hate to see this one right here end this way. Come on guys, GET UP!
7...
8...
At the count of eight both men roll over onto their backs, still sucking in air.
9...
Just before A-Ref steps forward with the count of ten, both men roll their legs up onto their chest and perform a double kip up, causing the entire arena to erupt in cheers. Harris and O'Donnell look over at one another wide eyed, and there's a brief moment of calm in the arena, as if time and space have hit the pause button. Suddenly, everything comes crashing back to reality, and time picks up with a vengeance. Harris throws his leg out for a superkick, but O'Donnell ducks it, catching the man around the waist from behind in his follow through. He lifts Harris clear off the mat, and then heaves himself backwards with a release German Suplex. Once released Harris tucks his legs, cutting a back flip while still in the air, and landing safely on his feet. O'Donnell pops up to face him, and ducks his clothesline attempt. As Harris continues on towards the ropes, O'Donnell takes off towards the ones in front of him, and both men thunder back towards the center of the ring, leaving their feet with simultaneous cross bodies. The two men connect, their impact sending them both sailing off in opposite directions to crash upon the mat.
PERCY: These two guys are unbelievable!
CAT: They are redefining what constitutes a wrestling match right here.
O'Donnell is the first to get to his feet, and he hangs on the top rope, trying to get his baring. Harris is slow to get to his feet, but he looks up through his stringy hair to spot O'Donnell across the ring. He takes off in a sprint, rushing in to take advantage of the situation. At the last possible second, O'Donnell drops straight down, taking the top rope with him, and Harris is sent tumbling from the ring to the outside. His body slaps the concrete floor, and he clutches at his back in surprise and pain. CJ turns to see where Harris has landed, and steps towards the center of the ring. With a nod of his head, the fans come to their feet as CJ takes off towards the ropes, and somersaults over the top to land squarely on Harris with a sentan across his chest. When he lands, his ass slaps the concrete, and he clutches at his bottom as he rolls off of Calvin, who convulses on the floor in pain.
PERCY: That was a huge high risk move by O'Donnell, and it looks like both men are wipe out at ringside.
CAT: Yeah, and A-Ref is starting the count!
A-Ref gets all the way to the count of five when CJ starts using the guard rail to pull himself up to his feet. He hobbles a little big after his trip down to the concrete, but looks down at Harris in satisfaction as he passes by him, and rolls under the bottom rope to break the count. He immediately rolls back out, and steps over to Calvin Harris, bending down to pull 'The Martyr of Wrestling' to his feet.
CAT: What's he doing? He could have gotten the win over Harris by count out!
PERCY: O'Donnell doesn't want to win it that way, Cat. He want's to drive home a point by pinning Calvin in the ring.
CAT: A win's a win! That's just stupid.
CJ has Harris up now, and takes him by the wrist, whipping him towards the closest ring post. Calvin is able to turn his body at the last second, so that it's his back and not his face that strikes the steel, but upon impact he thrusts his shoulders forward in pain, falling to all fours. He begins to crawl towards the announce table, as CJ rounds the corner to continue his assault.
CAT: Um...they are out here with us. The last time Calvin Harris was this close to the announce table bad things happened!
PERCY: Well, at least there's not a Hell in a Cell out here this time. But either way, maybe we should get out of dodge just to be safe.
Percy and Cat grab their stuff, and vacate the announce area as Harris slaps a palm onto the announce table to pull himself up to his feet, and just when he turns around, O'Donnell rushes forward with a clothesline. Calvin, however, sides steps CJ, hooks him under the arm, and uses his own momentum to hip toss him clear over the announce table only to come crashing down awkwardly across the announce chairs. CJ kicks cables loose from his feet and clutches at his injured back, while Harris takes a minute to try and clear the cobwebs. Eventually, Harris hops up onto the announce table, and as CJ gets up to his feet Calvin gets a handful of hair, and drags him up as well.
PERCY: (Squawk) is this thing on?
CAT: I can hear you, Percy, can you hear me?
PERCY: I think we're ok, but this things about to get real nasty! Our tables have been reinforced thanks to The BombTrax! It has no give!
A-Ref has exited the ring, chastising Harris who pulls CJ up to his feet, and tucks his head between his legs. He ignores the official as he leans forwards to clasp his hands around O'Donnell's midsection, and then lifts him up, and straight down into a package piledriver. The announce table cracks loudly, but doesn't go down, and CJ falls off the side of the table to land at A-Ref's feet, blood starting to pour from a gash across the top of his head. Calvin just sits in discomfort on the table, the impact to his spine and tailbone obviously taking it's toll.
PERCY: MY GOD! ART OF BETRAYAL ONTO OUR ANNOUNCE TABLE!!
CAT: CJ's been busted open!
A-Ref contemplates calling for the bell, but he shrugs, and then slips into the ring to start a second count. Harris looks over towards the ring where the official is counting, and he shakes his head 'no' rolling off the table, and then stumbling down to his knee's. He crawls towards the edge of the ring, and pulls himself up onto the ring apron at the count of five, and then rolls in by the count of six. O'Donnell begins to stir himself, reaching up to wipe the blood that had moved down into his eyes. Slowly he crawls towards the ring, and at the count of nine, he pulls himself up, and just as A-Ref is about to go for ten, he launches his body under the bottom rope to where he's at least partially inside the ring. Calvin scoots over to a corner, sitting with his back against the bottom turnbuckle, and he just stares at CJ while trying to catch his breath.
PERCY: Both of these men have tried to shorten careers tonight, and one has to wonder what it's going to take to put one of them away.
CAT: Nothing short of a bullet to the head at this rate, Percy.
Calvin reaches up to grab the top rope, and pulls himself up into the corner, watching as CJ tries to get to his feet. Without warning the Irishman takes off in a sprint towards Calvin, leaping into the air and throwing his Knee out for Irish Knowledge. Calvin just narrowly dodges out of the way as CJ hits the top turnbuckle with is knee instead. He clutches at his knee as he stumbles backwards, but Calvin is there, spins him around, lowers his head, hooks his arms, and spikes his head and shoulders into the mat with a surprise vertabreaker.
PERCY: MARTYR'S MASSACRE!! OH MY GOD!!
CAT: CJ doesn't even look conscious...
PERCY: Calvin for the pin....
1...
2...
3!!!
Harris rolls off of CJ, and pulls himself to his feet by use of the ropes, only to stumble back into a corner to help support him. He stares down at the Irishmen, and starts nodding his head, a shit eating grin spread over his face as Rhonda makes the announcement.
RHONDA ARMSTRONG: And the winner of this match, 'THE MARTYR OF PROFESSIONAL WRESTLING' CALVIN HARRIS!!
The fans boo as Calvin watches EMT's at ringside checking on O'Donnell to see if he can make it back to the locker rooms on his own. He decides to go ahead and exit the ring, making his way up the ramp, where he stops midways long enough to throw his arms out to either side of him cockily. The fans pour on the hate as he soaks it in, and he laughs at them as he backs the rest of the way up the ramp. He pauses at the curtain just long enough to blow a mock kiss to the crowd, which gets a huge reaction from the crowd, some even throwing their food wrappers at him. He laughs one more time, and then slips through to the back.
The curtain suddenly explodes open, and Calvin Harris comes stumbling back out onto the stage clutching his head. When the camera focuses past him, it see's Press come stalking out right behind him, where he had obviously been lying in wait for the man. As he trudges out onto the stage, the fans come alive at the sight of him, but he doesn't slow to acknowledge them.
PERCY: This is not good...
CAT: Well, there goes the neighborhood.
Calvin, still stunned from whatever he was hit with, turns just in time to catch a hard right hand that thunders him down to the unforgiving steel mesh of the stage. The big man reaches down and gets a fist full of hair only to jerk Calvin back to his feet, and then run him head first right into one of the steel support beams that hold up the big screen above the entrance. When Press snatches Calvin's head back, blood can be seen pouring down from a gash across his forehead.
PERCY: GOD ALMIGHTY! Press has busted Calvin Harris open, and doesn't appear to be done with him.
CAT: Yeah, he's a real hero, Percy. Attacking the man like this after the match we just witnessed between him and O'Donnell.
PERCY: C'mon, Cat. You had to know this was coming sooner than later after that attack Harris orchestrated last show on The Box Office! At least we know what Youth was doing; Jack Nomad's off chasing The Shadow, and Alexandra Kelly is tied up with Lady Munin, leaving Calvin Harris completely unprotected!
The fans erupt at the sight of blood as Press leads/drags Harris over to the edge of the stage. All in attendance, including the announcers, come to their feet as the big man thrusts Calvin's head down between his legs. He looks out at the crowd and all he receives in return are urges for him to do whatever it is that he has planned.
PERCY: You don't think....
CAT: The man does like to Powerbomb people off of stuff.
Press nods, lifts Harris up into a seated position on his chest, and then Press Release Powerbombs him off the stage. Calvin comes to a crash landing through two technical tables sitting side by side with equipment and wires being scattered every which way. The fans erupt into a 'Press' chant as the big man looks down on Harris' prone body in satisfaction. He then turns his attention to the crowd with a nod, reaching into his back pocket to produce a microphone.
PRESS: Calvin, all men have lessons that they have to learn in life. As confident as you may seam, and as good as you've built yourself up in your mind, you are no different. As for me, well, I just happen to be your elder, so I'm going to help you navigate the troubled waters to come. You say you aren't afraid, that you aren't going to back down. Well, kid, my pop-pop told me a long time ago that a man doesn't have to be afraid to get his ass whipped. Consider this your first life lesson courtesy of The BombTrax. Don't worry though, boy, there is so much more to come. You'll find that out at Bad Moon Rising.
Press' mic hand drops to his side, as the other slowly raises into the air. He's met with cheers and cat calls as he backs towards the entrance, and then disappears behind the curtain.
PERCY: Press sending one hell of a message here tonight to the #1 Contender. God, if these two keep at each other like this, there isn't going to be anything left for Bad Moon Rising.
CAT: Yeah, and after all is said and done, I wonder what Harris' new partners, Pixie and Nomad, think of all this.
PERCY: I guess we'll have to wait to find out, but for right now, let's pay some bills and here a few words from our sponsors.
CAT: You know that it's not gonna be good.
PERCY: And what about Jack Nomad and The Shadow? Things keep escelating between those two, and we still don't know anything about this guy.
CAT: All I know is that Jack Nomad has a major hard on for that guy, and he barely escaped this time. How much longer before Nomad finally gets his hands on him?
PERCY: Good question, but right now Rhonda's in the ring and we've got a main event quality match in store for us next, so take it away...
RHONDA ARMSTRONG: The following contest is a singles match, and is set for one fall or submission...
When the sun rises
I wake up and chase my dreams
I won't regret when the sun sets
Cause I live MY LIFE like I'm a beast
I'm a mothafucking beast
Ayo back to make you run around the game like its a fire
I spit acid bitch like I got cyanide in my saliva
Watch me wet and heat shit up like I'm a washer and a dryer
While I beat you in your head until you tire"
I'm a motherfucking beast
RHONDA ARMSTRONG: Coming to the ring, weighing in at one hundred and eighty pounds, from Boston, Massachusetts, representing "The Unstable"! He is "THE DISTINGUISHED" CEE JAY OOOOOO... DDOONNNNEELLLL!!!
As O'Donnell slowly makes his way down to the ring he can not help but take in all the insults and jeers from the crowd.
I'ma motherfucking beast
I'ma, I'ma fuckin' beast
I'ma mothafuckin' beast
Fucking mothafucking beast
I'ma motherfuckin' beast (you don't want problems)
I'ma motherfuckin' beast (you don't want problems with me)
I'ma motherfuckin' beast (you don't want problems)
I'ma motherfuckin' beast (you don't want problems with me)
I'm a motherfucking beast right
Homie welcome to the east side, where the killers reside
We playing war games, please hide
Ain't no signs of peace, so fuck a peace sign, we ride
Bust shots from a car seat
Or maybe hang you 'til your neck is broke
Choke with you with a Stethoscope
That's how I kill a motherfucker in a heartbeat on a dark street
I'ma I'ma fuckin' beast!
I'ma mothafuckin' beast
Fucking mothafucking beast
I'ma motherfuckin' beast (you don't want problems)
I'ma motherfuckin' beast (you don't want problems with me)
I'ma motherfuckin' beast (you don't want problems)
I'ma motherfuckin' beast (you don't want problems with me)
I'm a motherfucking beast!
PERCY: This will be the first time we've seen CJ O'Donnell since his defeat at the hands of Press during their epic PAW Heavyweight Championship match at Heat Stroke.
CAT: In my opinion, CJ was robbed. He deserves a rematch.
PERCY: And he might just get one too, but right now Calvin Harris, the current #1 Contender, stands in the way of that, and I don't think he's much obliged to do so.
"Your Betrayal" by Bullet For My Valentine hits the arena's speakers, the guitar riff kicking it all off as the fans begin to boo. After a few seconds, the curtain is slowly peeled back, and out steps Calvin Harris, a smug expression spread over his face. He steps to the center of the stage, nodding as the fans continue to pour on their hate, and thrusts his arms out at his side, letting his head hang back, soaking it all in. When he's had enough he lets his arms fall to his side, and he starts making his way down the ramp towards ringside, heckling the crowd all the way.
RHONDA ARMSTRONG: Introducing his opponent, all the way from Chicago, Illinois. Weighing in at two hundred and twenty seven pounds. He is the #1 Contender to the PAW Heavyweight Championship, the 'Martyr of Pro Wrestling' CALVIN HARRIS!
When Calvin reaches ringside, he hops up onto the apron on his knee, pulls himself up by use of the ropes, and in one fluid motion slips between the middle ropes one leg at a time. He looks over at CJ with a shitty grin, before stepping over to the opposite corner, and climbing up to the top turnbuckle. The crowd continues to boo as he thrusts his arms out at his side once again, eating up the hate before dropping down to the mat, and turning to face his opponent.
Suddenly there is a commotion in the audience behind the commentator's table. Someone throws a chair into the ring that sails in front of O'Donnell. A large group of fans stand and scramble away to the left as a man wades through them like a killer whale throwing chairs aside. Security struggles to keep order as Aokigahara Zombie makes his way to the ring through the crowd. His face shows the effects of the match with Strick but he moves with determination. He pushes some people aside and stops short of the guardrail and grabs a microphone from the announcer's table. Aokigahara gets on a chair with one foot on the barricade and waves.
ZOMBIE: Hey, CJ. Hello! It's me, remember? I don't know what your point was on the last show so I tried to ignore it and get on with my business but you were just scratching around in my head every single day since you attacked me after my win. I scratched and scratched but I just couldn't get you out. The only way is to smash you with my head and make you leak out like blood coming out of an ear. So here I am to give you a message. You can now forget about anything else in PAW. Forget about the Heavyweight Championship. Forget about Press. Forget about this guy here. Sorry, man, calm down. CJ, there is only one thing to worry about in your immediate future and that's the target I've tacked on your back. We ain't resting until I'm satisfied you learned what it means to get int the way of my work. For now... have a good match.
He laughs and makes his way to the next aisle through the audience in much the same tumultuous way he arrived. As security and valets try to make order of the seats and the audience, we focus back to the ring. O'Donnell grabs the announcer's mic.
O'DONNELL: Who are you again? Do you actually think I know your name. You were just a causality of war. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time. So pull your panties out of your ass and eat a snickers. I hate people who complain over the most simple minded things. If you want a fight I'll give you a fight but on my terms. Now enjoy this match and I hope you brought a pad and pen with you so you take notes.
Aokigahara grins and points at O'Donnell and wags his finger up and down with a grin. Then he slowly brings the finger to his forehead and taps it a few times with the smile gone from his eyes. He backs away and leaves the seating area. Harris, having watched all of this unfold, shakes his head in disbelief, turning to the crowd to talk crap about his opponent. An incensed CJ O'Donnell comes tearing across the ring with a forearm to Calvin's back. Harris tries to spin around, but all this does is buy CJ enough time to catch him again and again across his kidney area before Harris is able to finally fall into a corner. From there, CJ changes gears, and starts driving his right fist into the mans face repeatedly.
PERCY: This certainly isn't a surprise, as there is absolutely no love lost between these two, but you gotta believe some of this hostility coming from CJ O'Donnell is because of Aokigahara Zombie!
CAT: Yeah, but that's a tale for another date. This right here is between two guys who still don't see eye to eye.
O'Donnell nails Calvin one more time before taking him by the wrist, and whipping him to the other side following close behind, ready to strike. Cavlin hits the turnbuckle hard, and stumbles forwards, only to be caught right across the throat with a lariat that damn near takes his head off. Harris thunders to the mat, but pops up quickly, but O'Donnell is there forcing him into the ropes, and whips him to the opposite side.
PERCY: An aggressive CJ O'Donnell is all over Calvin Harris. Harris on his way back now, but he ducks CJ's back elbow attempt. Coming back one more time, and he ducks the round house kick. For a third time, and OH! Harris hopped straight up and ...HURRICANRANA!
CAT: Calvin just sitting on O'Donnell's chest, and now it's his turn with the right hands!
Calvin rains right hands down into O'Donnell's face, but CJ manages to bring his legs up, and hooks both of Calvin's arms with his calves before tipping him backwards, and sitting up into a pin attempt.
1...
2...
Calvin easily gets out of the pin by swinging his legs forwards over his head, and rolling all the way up to his feet, only to throw both of them out to catch O'Donnell in the face with a short falling drop kick. O'Donnell's head snaps back to strike off the canvas, as Harris scrambles up to his feet to drop an elbow down onto CJ before going for a quick cover.
1...
2...
CJ Kicks out with authority, and comes up to a seated position, only for Harris to reach around his neck, and yank him back into a rear naked choke. O'Donnell reaches out for the ropes, but Harris pulls back, grapevining his legs around CJ's midsection to make it even that much more difficult.
PERCY: A furious exchange between these two only to end with Harris placing O'Donnell in this submission.
CAT: Yeah, and he has him all tied up in the center of the ring, with no where to go.
CJ struggles against Harris, but to no avail, as The Martyr of Professional Wrestling cinches in even tighter, like an anaconda trying to squeeze the life out of it's prey. O'Donnell, realizing that he's too far away from the ropes to reach them, ceases that coarse of action, and instead places both hands on Calvin's boot. He musters up a gust of strength, and forces one of Calvin's legs off of him, and quickly rolls over onto his stomach, dragging Harris along for the ride, still attached to his back. CJ manages to get up to his hands and knee's, Harris yanking back and forth on his neck in disbelief. O'Donnell slips one foot under him, and with an anguished effort he pushes up to a standing position. He stumbles a bit from the feat of strength, plus the extra cargo on his back, but soon rights himself. Still in the center of the ring, and with Calvin still on his back, he reaches down and hooks Calvin behind the knee's, before throwing both men straight back. Harris hit's the canvas hard with all of CJ's weight crashing down on top of him, forcing the break, and leaving both men lying on the mat.
PERCY: CJ O'Donnell got the separation, but it took a lot out of him. Both men are down, and A-Ref looks like he's going to go for a count.
CAT: I can't believe all of this escalated so quickly, Percy. We're only about five minutes into this match!
1...
2...
3...
Calvin begins to stir, and rolls towards the ropes so he can use them to get up to his feet, while O'Donnell rolls over onto his side, pushing himself halfway up onto his elbow.
4...
5...
Both men come up to their feet at the count of five, and A-Ref ceases his count, stepping back to see what was going to happen next. With Calvin near the edge of the ropes, CJ takes off towards him, but Calvin ducks his head at the last second, back dropping CJ up and over the top rope. CJ, However, has the where-with-all to grab the top rope on his way over, so he lands safely on the apron rather than the floor. When Calvin turns to survey the damage, he's surprised by a strong forearm shot to the jaw that rocks his head back. O'Donnell then grabs a handful of hair, and takes off with Calvin, ramming him head first into the nearest turnbuckle. Harris' head bounces off the pad, and he stumbles out towards the center of the ring, as CJ scrambles up the ropes to arrive at the top. As soon as Harris manages to turn around, O'Donnell takes flight, throwing his feet out in front of him, and catching Calvin flush with a Missile Drop Kick. Harris is sent crashing down to the canvas, and CJ quickly crawls over, and hooks the leg for a cover.
1...
2...
PERCY: Thre-KICK OUT! Beautiful drop kick by O'Donnell that almost got him the 1,2,3, but Harris got the shoulder up.
O'Donnell gets to his feet, and jerks Harris up with him, pushing the man into the ropes, and then sending him off with authority. Harris rebounds off the opposite side, and O'Donnell moves into position to catch him with a Power Slam, but when he scoops him up, Calvin uses his momentum to complete a forward flip right out O'Donnell's arms to land on his feet in front of him. He boots the Irishman in the bread basket, doubling him over, hooks him around the head, and spikes him off the canvas with a vicious DDT. Harris takes a second to get his faculties, and then rolls his man over to make the cover.
1...
2...
PERCY: Thre-KICK OUT! That slight hesitation cost Harris the three count I think.
CAT: Lay off him, Percy. The man just got momentum back on his side.
Harris gains his feet, leaving O'Donnell lying on the mat. He bounces off the ropes for some momentum, and when he reaches CJ's position, he leaps high into the air, bringing both knee's up to his chest, and then exploding them downwards as he drops for a double foot stomp.
PERCY: Magic Bullet Theory by Harris to O'Donnell, and CJ is rolling around holding his midsection in agony.
CAT: That's all of Calvin's weight plus the extra effort right down into CJ's guts. That's got to take the breath right out of you!
Harris watches with smug satisfaction as O'Donnell clutches at himself, and the fans pour on the hate for 'The Martyr of Professional Wrestling'. He acknowledges them with a pose, giving CJ enough time to try and work himself up to his feet. When he reaches his knee's, Harris stops his taunting of the crowd, rushes into the ropes, and then springs back, catching CJ with a Yakuza kick that damn near takes his head off. Harris drops to his knee's beside CJ, and confidently hooks the leg for a cover.
1...
2...
PERCY: THRE-KICK OUT! My God, that was almost it! CJ O'Donnell just barely getting the shoulder up off that three count.
CAT: Yeah, it's looking pretty grim now.
Harris shakes his head in disappointment as he gets to his feet, yanking CJ up with him only to scoop him up into his arms. As soon as Calvin gets him into position, CJ begins struggling, working his leg loose from Harris' grasp, and then driving his knee into the side of Calvin's head. Harris takes a few shots before finally releasing his hold all together, allowing CJ to drop down to land on his feet right in front of him. CJ switches from knee's to kicks, one to the left thigh, another to the right thigh, and finally a straight kick right to the knee that causes Calvin to drop to his other one. Now on one knee, Calvin rocks back and forth with solid kicks by CJ right to his chest, and just when it looks like CJ is about to run out of steam, he finishes the vicious blows with a roundhouse kick that snaps him back to the mat.
PERCY: CJ calls that combination of kicks, Feet Down Fail Me Now!
CAT: Clever and effective, Percy.
CJ stumbles over to the ropes, still holding his midsection, as Harris lays flat on his back in the center of the ring after taking the onslaught of kicks. Calvin rolls over onto his stomach and tries to push up to his knee's, but before he ever makes it O'Donnell comes charging over from his position, leaps into the air, and places the heel of his foot on the back of Calvin's head, spiking it back down to the mat in a curb stomp.
PERCY: IRISH KISS!! My God what impact!
CAT: This might be it!
CJ shoots the half nelson on Harris to get him rolled onto his back, and hooks the leg for the pin.
1...
2...
THRE-KICK OUT!!! Harris' shoulder thrusts off the canvas knocking CJ off of him, but Calvin falls limply over to his side afterwards as O'Donnell pounds the mat with his fist in frustration. O'Donnell eases himself onto his feet, and turns to stare down at Harris, nodding his head like a light bulb has just went off. He backs over into the farthest corner, and lowers himself, ready to spring the minute that Calvin gets to his feet. After a few seconds Calvin begins to stir, and he slowly stumbles his way to his feet. CJ thunders out of his corner, leaping into the air while at the same time lifting his knee up to line up with Calvin's head. At the last possible second Harris dodges to the left allowing O'Donnell to pass him by, and when the Irishman turns around, Harris meets him with a super kick that catches him just beneath the jaw. CJ falls backwards, but is too close to the ropes, causing him to bounce back towards Calvin, who takes off towards the opposite ropes, springboards from the second, and twists back around to catch O'Donnell right in the face with a flying right fist. Both men go crashing down to the mat, neither one able to make it back to their feet.
PERCY: MEETING KRYPTONITE! CJ O'Donnell went for his Irish Knowledge Jumping Knee, but Harris was able to get out of the way and caught him with a super kick immediately followed by his flying superman punch!
CAT: Yeah, and now their both wiped out on the mat. A-Ref's starting another count!
1...
2...
3...
PERCY: These two never fail to deliver no matter how many times we see them. Love them or hate them, they are the definition of PAW action!
4...
5...
6...
CAT: Yeah, but I hate to see this one right here end this way. Come on guys, GET UP!
7...
8...
At the count of eight both men roll over onto their backs, still sucking in air.
9...
Just before A-Ref steps forward with the count of ten, both men roll their legs up onto their chest and perform a double kip up, causing the entire arena to erupt in cheers. Harris and O'Donnell look over at one another wide eyed, and there's a brief moment of calm in the arena, as if time and space have hit the pause button. Suddenly, everything comes crashing back to reality, and time picks up with a vengeance. Harris throws his leg out for a superkick, but O'Donnell ducks it, catching the man around the waist from behind in his follow through. He lifts Harris clear off the mat, and then heaves himself backwards with a release German Suplex. Once released Harris tucks his legs, cutting a back flip while still in the air, and landing safely on his feet. O'Donnell pops up to face him, and ducks his clothesline attempt. As Harris continues on towards the ropes, O'Donnell takes off towards the ones in front of him, and both men thunder back towards the center of the ring, leaving their feet with simultaneous cross bodies. The two men connect, their impact sending them both sailing off in opposite directions to crash upon the mat.
PERCY: These two guys are unbelievable!
CAT: They are redefining what constitutes a wrestling match right here.
O'Donnell is the first to get to his feet, and he hangs on the top rope, trying to get his baring. Harris is slow to get to his feet, but he looks up through his stringy hair to spot O'Donnell across the ring. He takes off in a sprint, rushing in to take advantage of the situation. At the last possible second, O'Donnell drops straight down, taking the top rope with him, and Harris is sent tumbling from the ring to the outside. His body slaps the concrete floor, and he clutches at his back in surprise and pain. CJ turns to see where Harris has landed, and steps towards the center of the ring. With a nod of his head, the fans come to their feet as CJ takes off towards the ropes, and somersaults over the top to land squarely on Harris with a sentan across his chest. When he lands, his ass slaps the concrete, and he clutches at his bottom as he rolls off of Calvin, who convulses on the floor in pain.
PERCY: That was a huge high risk move by O'Donnell, and it looks like both men are wipe out at ringside.
CAT: Yeah, and A-Ref is starting the count!
A-Ref gets all the way to the count of five when CJ starts using the guard rail to pull himself up to his feet. He hobbles a little big after his trip down to the concrete, but looks down at Harris in satisfaction as he passes by him, and rolls under the bottom rope to break the count. He immediately rolls back out, and steps over to Calvin Harris, bending down to pull 'The Martyr of Wrestling' to his feet.
CAT: What's he doing? He could have gotten the win over Harris by count out!
PERCY: O'Donnell doesn't want to win it that way, Cat. He want's to drive home a point by pinning Calvin in the ring.
CAT: A win's a win! That's just stupid.
CJ has Harris up now, and takes him by the wrist, whipping him towards the closest ring post. Calvin is able to turn his body at the last second, so that it's his back and not his face that strikes the steel, but upon impact he thrusts his shoulders forward in pain, falling to all fours. He begins to crawl towards the announce table, as CJ rounds the corner to continue his assault.
CAT: Um...they are out here with us. The last time Calvin Harris was this close to the announce table bad things happened!
PERCY: Well, at least there's not a Hell in a Cell out here this time. But either way, maybe we should get out of dodge just to be safe.
Percy and Cat grab their stuff, and vacate the announce area as Harris slaps a palm onto the announce table to pull himself up to his feet, and just when he turns around, O'Donnell rushes forward with a clothesline. Calvin, however, sides steps CJ, hooks him under the arm, and uses his own momentum to hip toss him clear over the announce table only to come crashing down awkwardly across the announce chairs. CJ kicks cables loose from his feet and clutches at his injured back, while Harris takes a minute to try and clear the cobwebs. Eventually, Harris hops up onto the announce table, and as CJ gets up to his feet Calvin gets a handful of hair, and drags him up as well.
PERCY: (Squawk) is this thing on?
CAT: I can hear you, Percy, can you hear me?
PERCY: I think we're ok, but this things about to get real nasty! Our tables have been reinforced thanks to The BombTrax! It has no give!
A-Ref has exited the ring, chastising Harris who pulls CJ up to his feet, and tucks his head between his legs. He ignores the official as he leans forwards to clasp his hands around O'Donnell's midsection, and then lifts him up, and straight down into a package piledriver. The announce table cracks loudly, but doesn't go down, and CJ falls off the side of the table to land at A-Ref's feet, blood starting to pour from a gash across the top of his head. Calvin just sits in discomfort on the table, the impact to his spine and tailbone obviously taking it's toll.
PERCY: MY GOD! ART OF BETRAYAL ONTO OUR ANNOUNCE TABLE!!
CAT: CJ's been busted open!
A-Ref contemplates calling for the bell, but he shrugs, and then slips into the ring to start a second count. Harris looks over towards the ring where the official is counting, and he shakes his head 'no' rolling off the table, and then stumbling down to his knee's. He crawls towards the edge of the ring, and pulls himself up onto the ring apron at the count of five, and then rolls in by the count of six. O'Donnell begins to stir himself, reaching up to wipe the blood that had moved down into his eyes. Slowly he crawls towards the ring, and at the count of nine, he pulls himself up, and just as A-Ref is about to go for ten, he launches his body under the bottom rope to where he's at least partially inside the ring. Calvin scoots over to a corner, sitting with his back against the bottom turnbuckle, and he just stares at CJ while trying to catch his breath.
PERCY: Both of these men have tried to shorten careers tonight, and one has to wonder what it's going to take to put one of them away.
CAT: Nothing short of a bullet to the head at this rate, Percy.
Calvin reaches up to grab the top rope, and pulls himself up into the corner, watching as CJ tries to get to his feet. Without warning the Irishman takes off in a sprint towards Calvin, leaping into the air and throwing his Knee out for Irish Knowledge. Calvin just narrowly dodges out of the way as CJ hits the top turnbuckle with is knee instead. He clutches at his knee as he stumbles backwards, but Calvin is there, spins him around, lowers his head, hooks his arms, and spikes his head and shoulders into the mat with a surprise vertabreaker.
PERCY: MARTYR'S MASSACRE!! OH MY GOD!!
CAT: CJ doesn't even look conscious...
PERCY: Calvin for the pin....
1...
2...
3!!!
Harris rolls off of CJ, and pulls himself to his feet by use of the ropes, only to stumble back into a corner to help support him. He stares down at the Irishmen, and starts nodding his head, a shit eating grin spread over his face as Rhonda makes the announcement.
RHONDA ARMSTRONG: And the winner of this match, 'THE MARTYR OF PROFESSIONAL WRESTLING' CALVIN HARRIS!!
The fans boo as Calvin watches EMT's at ringside checking on O'Donnell to see if he can make it back to the locker rooms on his own. He decides to go ahead and exit the ring, making his way up the ramp, where he stops midways long enough to throw his arms out to either side of him cockily. The fans pour on the hate as he soaks it in, and he laughs at them as he backs the rest of the way up the ramp. He pauses at the curtain just long enough to blow a mock kiss to the crowd, which gets a huge reaction from the crowd, some even throwing their food wrappers at him. He laughs one more time, and then slips through to the back.
The curtain suddenly explodes open, and Calvin Harris comes stumbling back out onto the stage clutching his head. When the camera focuses past him, it see's Press come stalking out right behind him, where he had obviously been lying in wait for the man. As he trudges out onto the stage, the fans come alive at the sight of him, but he doesn't slow to acknowledge them.
PERCY: This is not good...
CAT: Well, there goes the neighborhood.
Calvin, still stunned from whatever he was hit with, turns just in time to catch a hard right hand that thunders him down to the unforgiving steel mesh of the stage. The big man reaches down and gets a fist full of hair only to jerk Calvin back to his feet, and then run him head first right into one of the steel support beams that hold up the big screen above the entrance. When Press snatches Calvin's head back, blood can be seen pouring down from a gash across his forehead.
PERCY: GOD ALMIGHTY! Press has busted Calvin Harris open, and doesn't appear to be done with him.
CAT: Yeah, he's a real hero, Percy. Attacking the man like this after the match we just witnessed between him and O'Donnell.
PERCY: C'mon, Cat. You had to know this was coming sooner than later after that attack Harris orchestrated last show on The Box Office! At least we know what Youth was doing; Jack Nomad's off chasing The Shadow, and Alexandra Kelly is tied up with Lady Munin, leaving Calvin Harris completely unprotected!
The fans erupt at the sight of blood as Press leads/drags Harris over to the edge of the stage. All in attendance, including the announcers, come to their feet as the big man thrusts Calvin's head down between his legs. He looks out at the crowd and all he receives in return are urges for him to do whatever it is that he has planned.
PERCY: You don't think....
CAT: The man does like to Powerbomb people off of stuff.
Press nods, lifts Harris up into a seated position on his chest, and then Press Release Powerbombs him off the stage. Calvin comes to a crash landing through two technical tables sitting side by side with equipment and wires being scattered every which way. The fans erupt into a 'Press' chant as the big man looks down on Harris' prone body in satisfaction. He then turns his attention to the crowd with a nod, reaching into his back pocket to produce a microphone.
PRESS: Calvin, all men have lessons that they have to learn in life. As confident as you may seam, and as good as you've built yourself up in your mind, you are no different. As for me, well, I just happen to be your elder, so I'm going to help you navigate the troubled waters to come. You say you aren't afraid, that you aren't going to back down. Well, kid, my pop-pop told me a long time ago that a man doesn't have to be afraid to get his ass whipped. Consider this your first life lesson courtesy of The BombTrax. Don't worry though, boy, there is so much more to come. You'll find that out at Bad Moon Rising.
Press' mic hand drops to his side, as the other slowly raises into the air. He's met with cheers and cat calls as he backs towards the entrance, and then disappears behind the curtain.
PERCY: Press sending one hell of a message here tonight to the #1 Contender. God, if these two keep at each other like this, there isn't going to be anything left for Bad Moon Rising.
CAT: Yeah, and after all is said and done, I wonder what Harris' new partners, Pixie and Nomad, think of all this.
PERCY: I guess we'll have to wait to find out, but for right now, let's pay some bills and here a few words from our sponsors.
Pro Wrestling ELITE
NEW YORK'S PREMIERE WRESTLING PROMOTION
Singles Match
Nova Wonder versus Alexandra Kelly
PERCY: Folks we're back, and this is going to be the good stuff right here.
CAT: Like fine wine or fancy cheese?
PERCY: Better! A grudge match that is off the charts! Alexandra Kelly and Nova Wonder have been at each other's throats across social media, in the locker room, on the PAW website.....THEY do NOT like each other.
CAT: Well, this is a sure fire way to settle the score. Rhonda, do us the honor....
RHONDA ARMSTRONG: The following contest is your Main Event of the evening, and is a singles match scheduled for one fall or submission...
The lights in the arena go to complete darkness. The almost eery, lullaby-sounding entrance chimes to "Sex Metal Barbie" began to play over the PA system before the beat began to pick up and the heavy guitar riff accompanied the titan tron video of Nova Wonder. A slight, sparkly slither could be seen on the stage, getting a clamor from the crowd. A pulsing silver light ominously begins to flicker in the arena, its pattern mimicking a heartbeat.
At the sound of Maria Brink's scream, a single, glowing, red eye emerges in the darkness. There's just enough light to see Nova Wonder crouched on one knee, lifting her head and opening her eyes. One red glow in the dark contact is placed in, the other half of her face covered in a dystopian robot cybernetic half-mask. The spotlights all form into one at the turn of a dime, on the crouching Nova.
Slowly - mechanically - she rose from one knee to two. Her head glancing at the ground, her feet shoulder width apart. Her long, platinum blonde hair hid her already half-hidden face.
CAT: Like fine wine or fancy cheese?
PERCY: Better! A grudge match that is off the charts! Alexandra Kelly and Nova Wonder have been at each other's throats across social media, in the locker room, on the PAW website.....THEY do NOT like each other.
CAT: Well, this is a sure fire way to settle the score. Rhonda, do us the honor....
RHONDA ARMSTRONG: The following contest is your Main Event of the evening, and is a singles match scheduled for one fall or submission...
The lights in the arena go to complete darkness. The almost eery, lullaby-sounding entrance chimes to "Sex Metal Barbie" began to play over the PA system before the beat began to pick up and the heavy guitar riff accompanied the titan tron video of Nova Wonder. A slight, sparkly slither could be seen on the stage, getting a clamor from the crowd. A pulsing silver light ominously begins to flicker in the arena, its pattern mimicking a heartbeat.
Excuse me can you tell me what you've heard about my life?
Maybe a dirty little fairy tale, a girl of the night
I heard that I grew up filthy, a trailer park queen
Drop out pregnant statistical teen
I know you've heard about the bloody knife
About my daddy's perfect virgin and my mother's wife
You know I heard I don't belong in this game
Still you hold your hands in the air screaming my name
Let's go!
Maybe a dirty little fairy tale, a girl of the night
I heard that I grew up filthy, a trailer park queen
Drop out pregnant statistical teen
I know you've heard about the bloody knife
About my daddy's perfect virgin and my mother's wife
You know I heard I don't belong in this game
Still you hold your hands in the air screaming my name
Let's go!
At the sound of Maria Brink's scream, a single, glowing, red eye emerges in the darkness. There's just enough light to see Nova Wonder crouched on one knee, lifting her head and opening her eyes. One red glow in the dark contact is placed in, the other half of her face covered in a dystopian robot cybernetic half-mask. The spotlights all form into one at the turn of a dime, on the crouching Nova.
Baby go ahead
I'll be your hatred and your pain
This is killing us all
I don't care if I fall
We're the dying, we are the damned!
I'll be your hatred and your pain
This is killing us all
I don't care if I fall
We're the dying, we are the damned!
Slowly - mechanically - she rose from one knee to two. Her head glancing at the ground, her feet shoulder width apart. Her long, platinum blonde hair hid her already half-hidden face.
Baby go ahead
I'll be the villain you can blame
I'll be the belle of the brawl
Be the lust in us all
I'm the diva of the damned
I heard I don't belong in this scene
Sex Metal Barbie, Homicidal Queen
I'll be the villain you can blame
I'll be the belle of the brawl
Be the lust in us all
I'm the diva of the damned
I heard I don't belong in this scene
Sex Metal Barbie, Homicidal Queen
The guitar riff gets a little heavier, as she raised her head. The look on her face is one that is completely stoic, heavy black makeup on the contact-wearing eye. One hand raises, at a snail's pace. Her fist unfurls, opening to reveal the tattoo on the inside of her right palm: the Illuminati pyramid, including its all-seeing eye. That hand furls back into a fist, then fingers pointed into a gun, pointed at the center of the ring.
Excuse me can you tell me the worst thing you've heard about me?
Maybe that I'm a little harlot homicidal queen
You know I heard that I don't belong in this scene
Sex, Metal, Barbie, Whore, attention fiend
You know I heard that I'm a hater's dream
No class, White Trash - I'm so obscene
You know I heard that I should be ashamed
Still they hold their fists in the air screaming my name
Come on!
Maybe that I'm a little harlot homicidal queen
You know I heard that I don't belong in this scene
Sex, Metal, Barbie, Whore, attention fiend
You know I heard that I'm a hater's dream
No class, White Trash - I'm so obscene
You know I heard that I should be ashamed
Still they hold their fists in the air screaming my name
Come on!
Her pace down the ramp is slow and calculated, eyes focused on the ring in front of her. Everything seems methodical, from the slow pace of her breathing to each dragging step. At the foot of the ramp, there's finally a break. A wicked grin curling her lips up to the sky.
RHONDA ARMSTRONG: Making her way to the ring, weighing in at 112 pounds, from Seattle, Washington, the 'Wonder Woman' NOVA WONDER!
Baby go ahead
I'll be the villain you can blame
I'll be the belle of the brawl
Be the lust in us all
I'm the diva of the damned
I'll be the villain you can blame
I'll be the belle of the brawl
Be the lust in us all
I'm the diva of the damned
"The Deathbringer," as she calls herself, gave a stern glance to the camera - allowing it to take in every intricate detail of her half-mask and the piercing glow of her single, red eye. A machine built for destruction is the best way to describe the robotic appearance of Nova Wonder. Climbing into the ring underneath the second rope, she retreats to one corner, resuming her crouching position with both arms outstretched and taking hold of the top rope, to pull herself up at the toll of the bell. "Sex Metal Barbie" faded off into the distance as the lights slowly returned to normal.
PERCY: Nova Wonder had a hard fought battle against Strick Plissken last week, and we'll have to see if that loss took some of the wind out of her sails.
CAT: I don't think so, Percy. Nova Wonder came in here and beat 15 other superstars to become the #1 Contender to the Titans Championship, including her opponent here tonight, Alexandra Kelly.
At the very mention of her name the lights in the arena suddenly dims till it fades out fully. The crowd is left in complete darkness for a few moments, before the first notes of 'Fresh Blood' by The She Demons blast out of the speakers. Mixed reactions were given by the audience, but mostly positive chants start. There is a single purple spot falling onto the top of the entrance ramp, which moments later gets filled by a petite person. Alexandra Kelly, or better known as the Pixie. She stands still for a few moments, soaking in the atmosphere.- getting a good bit of this adrenaline rush.
RHONDA ARMSTRONG: And introducing her opponent, coming from West Palm Beach, Florida, and weighting in at 107 pounds. She is 'The Pixie' ALEXANDRA KELLY!
The Team Pixie chants errupt from the crowd when the small devil starts walking down the ramp, here and there touching a few hands, wearing that famous business smile. With the music playing out loud by now, Pixie takes a moment to pose in front of the ring, pointing at some of the crowd. Finally she slides inside the ring in a rather graceful manner, making her way up to her feet to stare across the ring at her opponent.
PERCY: Good lord, if looks could kill, Alexandra Kelly is murdering Nova Wonder right now.
CAT: Wonder Woman doesn't appear to be shaken in the least.
A-Ref checks both ladies for foreign objects in their corners, and the fans cat call him as he runs his hands up and down the tops of their boots. Finally, he steps back to the center of the ring and signals for the bell. As soon as it rings out, both women come out of their corner and step up to face each other right where A-Ref had been standing a second ago, eyes glued to one another without a blink.
PERCY: Alexandra Kelly and Nova Wonder talking smack in the center of the ring, and it doesn't look like either lady is planning on giving an inch here.
CAT: Why should they, Percy? Alexandra Kelly has made PAW her bitch for months, and then in comes Nova Wonder, just as hungry, just as hard nosed, looking to take it all away from her.
The two women continue to bicker, nose to nose, until finally both take a short step back, shrug, and begin unloading on each other right smack dab in the center of the ring.
PERCY: ALEXANDRA KELLY AND NOVA WONDER ARE HAMMERING AWAY WITH RIGHT HANDS, NEITHER WOMAN LOOKING TO GIVE AN INCH!
CAT: Just what I like to see! Tempers have already flared, and business just picked up!
The electric crowd is on their feet, and their cheers continue to escalate along with the punches, until finally the women slow a bit, now trading big punch for big punch doggedly in the ring. Kelly nails Nova across the jaw, and the woman's head snaps around, hair flying everywhere, only for her to return the blow with one of her own. Now the crowd has started a chant for every time one of the women lands one of the haymaker punches.
CROWD: WOND-ER WOMAN!! LETS GO PIXIE!! WOND-ER WOMAN!! LETS GO PIXIE!!
PERCY: This capacity crowd totally into this one here, as these two ladies still go toe to toe in the center of the ring.
CAT: Damn! This is more like a boxing match than a wrestling spectacle.
Finally, with one last haymaker from Pixie, Nova Wonder stumbles back, and falls into the ropes, holding her swelling jaw and trying to shake the cobwebs. The fans 'Awwww' the end of the moment, but settle back down when Kelly stalks over, and grabs Nova by the hair. She pulls her out to the center of the ring, hooks her through the arms, and then snaps her over with a double underhook suplex. Kelly quickly comes up to her feet, and without giving Nova a moment to recover, positions the point of her elbow right above her opponents head before dropping straight down into her face with it. Nova clutches at her head, as Pixie pushes her shoulders down to the mat, and goes for the cover.
1...
2...
PERCY: Nova powers out there at two. I think it's a little too early for a pinfall.
CAT: Yeah, you said that last match, Percy, and yet again fail to realize it's more about getting in your opponents head than it is about gaining the premature victory.
Kelly gets to her feet, jerking Nova up along with her, and takes the woman by the wrist, and shoots her off the ropes. Nova rebounds, but ducks Pixie's clotheseline, and on her way back, she ducks the back elbow. By the time she makes it back for a third time, Pixie posts up in the ring, and attempts a hip toss. Nova hops right in front of Kelly, hooking her under the arm instead, and attempts the counter. Alexandra, seemingly anticipating this turn of events, goes for the same reversal. The hip toss reversals continue until both ladies reach the ropes, where it's Nova Wonder who makes the last stand by hip tossing Kelly right up and over the top rope to the concrete below.
PERCY: Ouch! Pixie just slapped the concrete spine first!
CAT: Yeah, and that was insult to injury too! Shades of what happened at Heat Stroke in the Sixteen Man Battle Royal!
The fans come to their feet as Nova Wonder slips out of the ring to land beside Kelly, who's made it halfway to her feet. Just as The Pixie is about to take a step forward, Nova grabs her by the back of the head, and takes off into a sprint, releasing her to run head first into the steel steps with a clank. Alex clutches at her head as she falls into a seated position, and Nova takes a few steps back before rushing forwards, driving her knee into the woman's skull, forcing the back of her head to strike the steps.
PERCY: Jesus Christ! Nova Wonder viciously going after Pixie!
CAT: Hey, you don't call out a woman like Alexandra Kelly unless you plan to take it to her 100%.
Nova Wonder looks out at the cheering crowd while grabbing a fistful of Kelly's hair, and jerking her up to her feet. A-Ref berates her to get it back in the ring, but she all but ignores the official, leading Kelly over to the guardrail. She lifts her head high into the air, but just when she's about to slam it down upon the unforgiving steel, Pixie drives a knee into her midsection, causing her to turn loose her hold. Kelly takes that brief pause to shake the cobwebs from the earlier assault, and then drive another knee into her opponents rib cage to keep her off balance. She does this one more time, before taking Nova by the hand, and then whipping her as hard as she can towards the steel ring post. Nova crashes head first into the pole, the momentum causing the rest of her to spin off until finally skidding to a stop across the concrete. Alexandra Kelly rubs her jaw as she rounds the corner where Nova landed, and doesn't hesitate to jerk the woman up to her feet, and then shoot her back into the ring. She hops up onto the ring apron as Nova rolls a little away from the ropes, and begins to climb the same corner that she had sent the Wonder Woman crashing into.
PERCY: Alexandra Kelly perched on the top, and the fans are on their feet.....OH MY GOD! CORKSCREW SHOOTING STAR PRESS DOWN ON NOVA!!
CAT: Jesus! Is Kelly going to be able to follow up after that?
Alexandra Kelly clutches at her midsection, but eventually crawls over to place her body atop Nova's for the cover.
1...
2...
PERCY: THRE-KICK OUT! That kick out came at the last possible second, and if Nova Wonder want's to stay in this, she desperately needs to get some momentum on her side.
CAT: Yeah, but I don't think The Pixie aims to give her any quarter, Percy.
Alexandra Kelly works her way up to her feet, still clutching her midsection after the death defying flight from the top, but that doesn't stop her from reaching down to get a fistful of Nova's hair. She jerks the woman up to her feet, and shoves her back into a corner, stepping in with a thunderous chop that echoes throughout the arena. The fans come alive as she delivers another, and then another, before taking her by the wrist, and sending her to the other side. Nova impacts with the turnbuckle and slumps, while Kelly comes rushing in for a splash. At the last minute Nova throws both feet up catching Kelly right in the face which sends her thundering to the mat. Kelly scrambles to get back to her feet, and moves to rush against Nova again, but this time Wonder Woman lifts only one of her boots, catching The Pixie right in the jaw. Before she can fall back, however, Nova grabs her by the arms, and falls straight back, causing Kelly's face to impact off her boot.
PERCY: COME AS YOU ARE BY NOVA! And she's got the cover!
1...
2...
CAT: THRE-KICK OUT BY KELLY! The Pixie not to be denied so easily!
Nova snarls as she gets to her feet, pulling Kelly with her. She pulls Kelly out to the center of the ring, hooks her around the waist, and then reaches back with her own foot to sweep the leg. At the same time she flips forward, while pulling Kelly down, where her head snaps off the back of the canvas, while she lands on her back beside her, and then bridges up into a pinning combo.
PERCY: LUNAR ECLIPSE! And Nova might just have it this time!
1...
2...
THRE-KICK OUT! Kelly's shoulder snaps off the mat, and she falls off to the side in a heap while Nova Wonder stares up at the lights in disbelief. Nova rises up to a seated position, staring at A-Ref, who claims that it was only two, and she shakes her head, rage apparent across her face. She casts a scathing look at Kelly, before pushing up to her knee, and then up to her feet. Wonder Woman jerks Kelly up to her feet, and shoves her into the ropes before taking her by the wrist, and whipping her to the opposite side. Upon The Pixie's return, Nova ducks her head for a back body drop, but instead, Kelly hooks Nova by the head, leaps high into the air, and then comes down to one knee, driving Nova's face into the other one.
PERCY: NATIONAL ANTHEM BY KELLY!
Nova snaps up to her feet, but it's obvious the blow has done some damage, as she stumbles down to a knee, and then back up once more to end up in a corner. She spins around to face Kelly right as The Pixie charges in with a running European Uppercut that snaps The Wonder Woman's head back. Nova looks completely rocked as Kelly drags her by the hair of the head out away from the corner, spins her around, slips her head under her arm, and then lifts her high into the air for a side suplex. Instead of falling straight back, she dips forwards, allowing the back of Nova's thighs to hit the top rope, giving her extra momentum for when she rockets backwards and releases. Nova soars to the center of the ring, landing awkwardly on the back of her head and shoulders, while Kelly scrambles to move in for the cover.
PERCY: PIXIE DUST!
1...
2...
PERCY: THREe-NO! NOVA WONDER MIRACULOUSLY KICKED OUT! Even the crowd is confused after that one it was so close.
CAT: Yeah, and Kelly doesn't look too happy with A-Ref right now.
Kelly shoots up to her feet and corners the official with a scathing reprieve while he anxiously makes the motion of the shoulder coming off the mat. Kelly thinks about striking him, but has second thoughts, turning her ire back to Nova who's crawled over to a corner. As she slowly uses the ropes to pull herself up, Kelly comes barreling in with a knee to Nova's back. Wonder Woman clutches at her spine in pain, as Nova spins her around, and then lifts her up to set her on the top rope. She starts to climb up with her, but Nova is able to muster the strength to fire a few right hands down into Kelly's face, causing the woman to fall back on her heels. Just then, quick as lightening, Nova grabs Kelly around the head, and launches herself off the second to nail her with a Tornado DDT.
PERCY: CELESTIAL MANTRA!!
CAT: Desperation move out of Nova Wonder.
Both ladies lie still in the ring, Nova Wonder trying to recover, and Alexandra Kelly stunned after the impact to her skull. A-Ref looks to both ladies in distress, then shrugs, and begins a count.
1...
2...
3...
PERCY: Theses ladies have put one another through quite the physical contest here tonight. I hope they'll be able to answer the count so that we can finally settle this thing.
4...
5...
6....
CAT: People can say what they want about female wrestlers, but I think their lack of man parts makes them all the more dangerous. These two have proved that tonight, whether they make it to their feet or not.
7...
Nova slowly begins to crawl towards the ropes.
8...
Alexandra Kelly crawls in the opposite direction.
9...
Nova uses the middle rope to get her feet under her, before standing back up to a vertical base. A-Ref stops his count, while Kelly uses the ropes on the opposite side to stand. Alexandra Kelly immediately begins to stumble her way towards the center of the ring, and Nova, clutching her back, does the same. Both women come right back to where they started this match, and Kelly leads it off the dance with a right hand. Nova rocks backwards, but then fires a right of her own. The fans get to their feet, and once again, find themselves completely wrapped up in this match.
CROWD: Wond-Er-Woman! Let's Go Pixie! Wond-Er-Woman! Let's Go Pixie!
This goes on for a few more blows, but this time, it's Nova that gets the upper hand, rocking Kelly all the way into the ropes. When Kelly springs back, Nova spins, and then cradles back out of nowhere with a Pele Kick. When Pixie hits the mat, Nova rolls over to drape her arm over Kelly's chest.
1...
2...
PERCY: THRE-KICK OUT! Good Lord, how is this one going to end? What do either of these ladies have to do here to pick up the pinfall?
CAT: I don't know, Percy, but it's obvious both women are giving up everything they have to obtain dominance here in PAW.
Nova gets up to her feet, pulling Kelly up with her on instinct. The two women just stand there for a moment, locked in one another's arms, and if one were to look at it without knowing the context, it could look as if they were simply hugging each other rather than actually holding one another up. Suddenly Nova shoves Pixie away from her, and completes a front flip, extending her leg to catch the woman in the face with a Koppu Kick she calls Nebula Collision. Pixie, however, side steps the kick altogether, and when Nova rolls up to her feet, and spins to get a bead on her opponent, Kelly rushes her. She makes a short leap to post off of Nova's thigh, and then brings her foot around for her Shining Wizard finisher, The Spotlight. Nova manages to duck her head forward so that Kelly's foot harmlessly sails over her, ending with Kelly falling first face to the mat without inflicting the damage she had been counting on. Kelly is slow to get up, so Nova helps her, spinning her around and tucking her head between her legs. The crowd comes to their feet as 'Wonder Woman' nods her head, and then proceeds to flip forward over Kelly's back, while still retaining her hold on the head with her thighs. Both women somersault forwards, landing with Pixie's head spiking off the canvas into a piledriver.
PERCY: NOVACAINE! Good god, Nova Wonder's Canadian Destroyer is a sight to behold!
CAT: Yeah, and it's pretty fucking convincing too. She's got the cover!
1...
2...
3!!!
The bell sounds and Nova Wonder falls off of Alexandra Kelly to catch her breath, as Rhonda makes the announcement.
RHONDA ARMSTRONG: and the winner of this match, NOVA WONDER!
PERCY: Folks, this match wasn't for the faint of heart. It wasn't sweet and simple. These two ladies have been through a war, but in the end, Nova Wonder is the clear victor here.
CAT: More than that, Percy. Nova's proven what she's been saying all along. If there was any doubt who the dominant female in PAW was going to be, she just gave the roster an answer.
PERCY: But now that she has put Kelly away, she now has another grandiose task on the horizon in one Titans of the Midway Champion, Johnny Raike.
CAT: Those two will go toe to toe in one of the feature matches at Bad Moon Rising, but in two weeks they will finally come face to face on The Box Office to discuss terms and stipulations. It will be the first time we've actually seen them in the ring, so look for that to be an interesting, if not explosive confrontation.
PERCY: Too true. Folks, that's all the time we have for you this evening. Make sure to tune in July 21st, when Pure Amusement Wrestling presents WICKED from the Prather Coliseum in Natchitoches, Louisiana. God's speed, and good night!
The camera returns to the ring where Nova has made her way to her feet, and A-Ref takes her by the wrist, and lifts her arm over her head in victory. She nods to the crowd who begin a 'Wond-Er-Girl' chant, and she takes the second turnbuckle of the closest corner to celebrate and play up to her crowd. The last shot is of Nova with her hands over her head in victory, before fading to the PAW logo, and then to black.
