[“Pick up the Pieces” plays in the background. Enter Killa 187 and Ert Williams. They step into the ring, ready to interrupt whatever happens to be going on at the time. However, they quickly deduce that this is no ordinary ring. The ropes have a decidedly “barbed-wire” motif to them, and there is an unusually high quantity of fluorescent light tubes balanced in the corners. This particular wrestling ring is in the parking garage and the fans that crowd around are kept a safe distance away. Killa seems confused. Ert smacks him upside the head. They both look around for Ace Stevens, but he’s nowhere in sight.]
[The horror of what is to happen dawns on our protagonists.]
[There is no escape now.]
“TROGDOOOOOOOOOOOR!!!”
“TROGDOOOOOOOOOOOR!!!”
[As Paul Doom wheezes his way down the aisle, our heroes’ lives flash before their eyes. Killa’s first vending machine bling purchase. Ert Williams’ failure to ever clear the first level in World 8 of Super Mario Brothers 3. Paul Doom has come to utterly and finally destroy them both. But then…]
[A third man joins their side: his hair unkempt, his beard a mess. But this is no ordinary man. This is a man who can make crushed ice and pearl onions last through to last call. This is Necro Bartender.]
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
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WINNERS – Killa 187, Ert Williams, Necro Bartender (Necro Bartender sticks his fingers down Paul Doom’s throat, 5:19)
ERT: Well that was easy enough.
ACE: Hey guys, I miss anything?
KILLA: Damn sure. I got a cheap alternative to more energy inefficient incandescent bulbs, homes! Yo, anyone got any ballast?
[Ert grabs the light tube from Killa and shatters it over his head.]
[Cut to the inside of the arena in Thunder Bay. In the ring are B.A. Jive and Max Turbo. Over the tannoy is “Last Cup Of Sorrow” by Faith No More. Brian Irwin rolls into the ring.]
RM: Greetings, DCWL fans! Welcome to “Death of a Ladies’ Man!” I’m Rich Manning, and joining me once again is Christian Chazz.
CC: I’m just going to get this out of the way: Kyle Hayden’s obsession with the color teal is getting out of control.
RM: We are six weeks away from our next Supercard Extravaganza, and tonight we hope to find out more about the trios tournament at “Ark of Triocalypse.”
CC: And how about this for a main event: Bane will be defending the Grand Championship tonight against one of the four men in the ring.
RM: Three.
CC: What?
RM: There are only three people in the ring.
CC: Yeah, I know. What? Do you think I’m crazy or something? I can see the ring, Manning.
RM: Well, this is supposed to determine who’s going to be facing the Grand Champion tonight and it’s supposed to be a four-way match. There are only three people in the ring.
CC: Then where do you get off saying that there are four people in the ring?
RM: That’s what I’m asking!
CC: I dunno!
RM & CC: Third base!
'WHAT BUSINESS ARE YOU IN?'
[Their witty repartee is interrupted by “Shutterbuggin’” by Buck 65. Through the curtains lumbers Kevin “Killdozer” Alloy, DCWL Deputy Commissioner. He’s his usual self in ill-fitting business casual. He has a cast on one hand and a microphone in the other.]
ALLOY: Now, I know you all wanted to see Porno Anderson tonight.
[Crickets.]
ALLOY: But ever since Bane out and out called him “gay,” he’s been nigh unreachable. Apparently his only solace is… porn.
[Alloy shudders. Squick.]
ALLOY: But we advertised a four-way match, and we’re going to deliver. Commissioner Hayden pulled some strings with JDM Superstar and Shootfire Pro Wrestling and now we’ve got a replacement. So without further ado…
[A spotlight comes upon the entrance ramp and out from the back steps... Nathan Taylor!]
ALLOY: “The Mastodon” Nathan Taylor!
[Nathan Taylor is a huge motherfucker above all others, pound for pound one of the most dominating physical specimens and genetically gifted athletes the sport has ever seen. Wearing red and black trunks, black shinpads and red boots black hair cut shaved, and fine trimmed goatee. Taylor throws his arms up for the DCWL fans before he begins making his way down the aisle quickly, the fans reach out to touch the mammoth of a man but he doesn't mind, or try to touch the fans in return. His eyes are focused on the ring and once he gets to the apron he reaches up grabbing the middle rope with both hands and yanks himself up onto the apron.]
RM: Nathan Taylor finally appears in the DCWL!
CC: Hell, he might be the one guy who could go toe-to-toe with Beckson!
RM: What a shocker if “The Mastodon” manages a win here! What happens if he wins this match and then beats Beckson for the belt?
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
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WINNER – Max Turbo (d. Brian Irwin: Rolling Pin Fall, 14:25)
CC: Max Turbo out of f’ing nowhere! Someone call an exorcist, because this guy is possessed!
RM: You have to think Max Turbo was not the favourite going into this match, but he out and out wins the match, and now he will go on to face Julian Beckson in our main event tonight!
CC: Beckson’s gonna kill you… Beckson’s gonna kill you… Beckson’s gonna kill you…
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
[We open to the back, the lovely Blaze Crimson is standing beside, “The Native” Maurice Thompson. Maurice is in his wrestling attire plus a, “Vision Quest” shirt. His eyes still have the far off intensity that have been a norm since he heard the comments from Julian Beckson about his girlfriend, Chelsea.]
[Maurice agreed to have the DCWL cameras follow him around since, “Overdrawn At The Memory Bank.” We have seen Maurice party, train, compete in two matches, and develop a more intense side to his personality. It seems that those following have created a more personal attraction to the 18 year old from Bismark.
[Blaze? Well she doesn’t seem as angry as before.]
Blaze Maurice at, “Overdrawn At The Memory Bank” you impressed a lot of people by dominating Leon Corella, but you came up short and couldn’t get the victory. Then just last week we heard from Leon Corella during our War Of The Words taping, and he had some strong language for you. What do you have to say to your new rival?
[Thompson shakes his head, he looks at the camera an intense look in his eyes.]
Thompson: You want to compare me to your grandfather Lucius and tell me I couldn’t last in his little Lion’s Den? I had a lot of time in the past three weeks to do some research, not too much came up on your family. Yeah, they had some good victories and respectable careers, but much like yourself they could break into the upper levels of professional wrestling, they couldn’t cut it…
[Thompson pauses.]
You on the other hand have nothing of note to hang your hat on, other than your family. You..You…Leon Corella…hasn’t accomplished anything. You can’t even go a week without contradicting yourself.
Blaze: What do you mean?
[Maurice tilts his head back slightly.]
Thompson: “I make absolutely no excuses for my failings, Maurice.” Does that not sound familiar?
Blaze: Sounds like something Corella said on War Of The Words…
[Thompson nods his head.]
Thompson: It’s _EXACTLY_ what Corella said. Yet, he forgets how he kept calling my victory over him a fluke, that it shouldn’t have happened, that he was tired, that he defeated everyone else. It seemed like he spent quite some time pointing those facts out…
[He turns towards Blaze.]
Thompson: Am I right?
Blaze: You are…
Thompson: To me that sounds like he was making quite a bit of excuses. When he forgets to mention that I didn’t waste all of my energy, and had a strategy to actually _WIN_ the match. I hit the Natives Unite perfectly, dropped him on the back of his neck and got the three count…
Now look at our last match, Corella sounded like a politician the way he spun the match. Saying he let me dominate him and didn’t _Need_ his biggest moves to defeat me…
[Maurice smiles.]
Thompson: Corella, you and I both know I had you scouted so well that you couldn’t hit the Game Over. There were points in the match where you couldn’t do anything to me, and trust me I realized that.
[The camera zooms in on Thompson’s face, his eyes are intense and focused.]
Thompson: I’m not going to sit here and call your victory a fluke or anything else. I’m a bigger man than you are…I didn’t hit the Native’s Unite perfectly, I didn’t attempt enough pinfalls, I had bad ring placement, and I wasn’t in good enough shape. The only thing I will say is…
Maurice Thompson defeated Maurice Thompson, not Leon Corella…
[The camera zooms out a bit, still focused on Thompson who pauses.]
Thompson: Oh..and about my offense not doing any damage to you. Why did the doctors diagnose you with a slight concussion, and tell you to not wrestle until tonight? Why was there a cut over your left eye? How come every time I looked in your eyes, your eyes were begging me to stop?
I’ll give you credit Corella, you kept going, took advantage of my lack of stamina and got the victory. Not that it’s a victory your family would be proud of…but hey..not like you’ve done anything during your career ol’ Larson would be proud of.
[…DAMN…]
Blaze: Moving on to Beckson..
[Maurice jumps in.]
Thompson: No comment…
[Blaze looks surprised.]
Blaze: You have nothing to say about Beckson?
Thompson: No ma’am…Not at all…
[His body language shows Beckson is definitely on his mind, yet his choice to not direct any words towards him is surprising. Blaze looks caught off guard, but quickly collects herself.]
Blaze: …Moving on to tonight…You face Great Atma…Do you feel prepared for the match?
Thompson: Atma has no chance tonight…I will not fail…I will not be defeated.
[Blaze nods.]
Blaze: Thank you for your time, back to the guys out front.
[Fade.]
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
RM: Thank you Blaze.
CC: It’s amazing what a good hairstyle will do.
RM: Eh?
CC: Her bangs do a magnificent job of covering up her lobotomy scars.
RM: Will you STOP?!
[Harsh guitar chords, followed by a vaguely patriotic theme, blasting through the speakers! Red, white and blue lights flash in time as the voice of James Hetfield roars into the arena!]
"DON'T TREAD ON ME!
DON'T TREAD ON ME!!"
As Metallica's "Don't Tread On Me" continues, a tall, somewhat large man strides onto the entranceway. The crowd lashes out at the sight of the DCWL Ambassador! Wearing a three piece navy suit, a red, white and blue tie, navy khakis and shiny polished wingtips, looking ever the statesman with bright blue eyes and a black goatee, he displays his trademark wide, slimy grin as he strolls onto the stage]
"Liberty or death
What we so proudly hail
Once you provoke her
Rattling of her tail
Never begins it
Never but once engaged
Never surrenders
Showing the fangs of rage!
Don't tread on me!"
[Henry Spikes doesn't acknowledge the DCWL fans, instead gesturing behind him. From the back, a man and a woman step to either side of the former DCWL Commissioner.]
RM: That's James O'Connor! And Erica Toughill! Both back in the DCWL!
CC: Yeah, and both now working for the beast that is SPW. If they're coming out with Spikes, they're not DCWL anymore.
[The three walk down the ramp with confidence, largely ignoring the very hostile reception they're receiving in Thunder Bay. Henry gets onto the apron first, holding the ring ropes open for The Queen of Clubs to enter. The Cunning one follows after, with Spikes bringing up the rear. He walks over to Buckley Luck and asks for the house mic as the music fades out.]
RM: It'll be interesting to hear what they have to say. Spikes and O'Connor have been MIA since their hit job at Plunderland and we haven't seen Erica Toughill since 2008!
SPIKES: Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.
[BOOOOOOOO!]
SPIKES: You'll forgive me, of course, for not appearing at the last show in Bismarck. You see, after being appointed to the position of Ambassador to the DCWL, I realized that I needed some time to study the product. After all, we at Shootfire Pro have no wish to change anything that already meets our high standards of excellence.
[BULLSHIT! BULLSHIT! BULLSHIT!]
SPIKES: So far, it is clear that you have a few special competitors. Mister Beckson...
[BOOOOOOOOOOOO!]
SPIKES: ...while certainly controversial, is truly a powerhouse. Mister Corella has proven himself match in, match out as a figure to watch. And, of course, my good friend Mister Ford...
[Boo.]
SPIKES: ...continues to set the standard of what we should expect from our competitors. As for the rest, there is certainly potential. SPW developmental star Maurice Thompson being chief among them.
[Strong cheer for The Native!]
SPIKES: Those like Mister Thompson who are talented, yet still raw, would benefit from an example. An example of where hard work and focused use of natural talent can get you. I have brought two such examples with me today who will illustrate these points, as well as enlighten us all as to what the competitors here can look forward to. Ladies and gentlemen, I am proud to present two stars of SPW and DCWL alumnae... "Cunning" James O'Connor and Erica Toughill! Erica, ladies first...
[Spikes hands the microphone to Erica with a respectful bow. Toughill accepts the mic and addresses the audience.]
ERICA: You know, I owe a lot of who I am to the old “Demented Creations” Wrestling League. I can remember the days when I would leap in to the ring to tune of “Sandstorm” by Da Rude—I can hear it now in my head. And I remember when I was in love with wrestling and had so much enthusiasm for it. And I look at myself now. Bitter, miserable, hating the world.
[Some fans see where she’s going with this and start to boo. A few on the ball fans chant “You Screwed Jax.”]
ERICA: I remember getting my head kicked in night after night. That was the DCWL. I remember the abuse and torture at the hands of Tigress, and the entire league turned a blind eye. That was the DCWL. I remember when some executive told me I had to lose thirty pounds before I could appear on TV. That was the DCWL. I remember working my ass off for Curt Olsen just so I could win a match and show you lousy pieces of shit what I could accomplish, and I remember how you sat with your arms folded saying, “entertain me, bitch. Bleed for our pleasure, bitch.” And I think of how I’m bitter, miserable and hating the world and look at scars on my body and they spell the letters “DCWL.”
[Spikes puts his arm over her shoulder. O’Connor squeezes her hand. Toughill’s jaw tightens into a pronouncd snarl.]
ERICA: Oh sure, you hate me. You all always hated me. You always liked it when that ignorant ass of an ex-boyfriend did the talking for me—
[The “You Screwed Jax” chants begin picking up momentum again.]
RM: Obviously still some lingering bitterness between Erica Toughill and former DCW wrestler Jackson Hunter.
ERICA: Well, come and see what I’ve accomplished, DANGEROUS CHAMPIONSHIP WRESTLING LEAGUE. You got yourself a nice little Sirens division here. What are you gonna go when I take out your crown jewel Sierra Browne tonight, huh? Tell ‘em, James.
[She turns and hands the mic to O'Connor. O'Connor's showered with jeers from the moment he accepts the mic and is clearly taken aback.]
JOC: Before I begin, I'd like to address my actions at Plunderland 2009.
RM: He would?
CC: Oh sure he would. He's got backup with him and doesn't have to face any backlash with the so-called "Ambassador" standing there.
JOC: If I'm going to be the role model Henry wants me to be, I've got to play it straight with everyone. It's true, Marissa, Eddie and I attacked Kyle Hayden, Kevin Alloy and Jeffrey Marsh. You obviously don't like what happened, and that's something I've just got to live with. Do I regret what happened? No way in hell.
[BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!]
JOC: Why did I do it? In that ring was a man who has threatened my livelihood on several occasions, both here in the DCWL and in Shootfire Pro. He organized the invasion of SPW and, when defeated, could lay back comfortably in his cushy office job and shrug it off because HE was immune to punishment. And while every member of the Shootfire Army wanted his blood, he received safe haven from Kyle Hayden and Kevin Alloy. We found Marsh, thanks to the tip from Henry, and we punished those involved. Justice was served.
RM: I can't believe what I'm hearing out of this kid.
JOC: Now I'll admit, I initially had trouble with the idea that I'd be attacking DCWL management, the place where I got my start in this business. But then I remembered the summer of 2008. Most people will recall that's when the DCWL lost its TV deal. I remember it, though, for the biggest slap in the face that I've ever received.
CC: Oh God, what's he going to complain about now?
JOC: When Skye Ashner left the DCWL, he needed to be replaced as number one contender. Kyle Hayden, in his infinite wisdom, created a battle royal to be held in MY hometown of Wilmington, Delaware. Now was I top of the card then? No, of course not. But I had won my past few matches, gotten a little momentum, and hell it was in my hometown. I waited for my invitation, thinking that Hayden couldn't POSSIBLY mess up the homegrown talent makes good angle, but it never came. Still, I kept my head up, until I saw some of the other names who DID make it. A talentless garbage wrestling hack who got a start because of his mother? Some Japanese giant who had been around for a month? A man who gave up even trying to win matches for several months? Since when did these guys deserve a break over me? Since when...
[With no music or reaction other than the cheers of the fans, Kyle Hayden storms the ring. Lumbering behind him as fast as he can is his deputy commissioner Kevin Alloy. Hayden gets handed a microphone from Buckley Luck; he tells Alloy to back off.]
CC: Thank god. Kyle Hayden may be a lunatic, he may have been a Hawaiian shirted lech for most of his career, but when he lays down the law, look out below.
HAYDEN: I’ve had just about enough of this, alright. Listen, right now. You think JDM Superstar came down here just to mess with your head. Do, not, FLATTER yourself, James. Jeffery Marsh came to me because I extended an open invitation to any former DCWL competitor and that included you. And you did NOT show up, and JDM Superstar *did*. He didn’t come down here for some Machiavellian scheme for once or a tax dodge. He came down here because he felt a certain *loyalty* to the DCWL. Dammit, O’Connor, all he wanted was a shot the Grand Championship! How does that make him any different than you, James?
[He turns his attention to Erica Toughill.]
HAYDEN: How is that any different than you, Erica? You don’t think Jeffery Marsh wanted the Grand Championship like you? Like anyone else working in the DCWL? Is he a flawed human being? Yes. So am I. So are you. So is Henry. You think you’ve got it bad? I had to endure ten years of being Ratt Klyczofvski, the official toadie of Jackson Hunter.
[He frowns and looks at the threesome from SPW.]
HAYDEN: You are, after DCWL alums, and you are from Shootfire, and we are affiliates. And I am glad to be affiliated with the Shootfire family and I want to stay affiliated. But if you three think that these people out here, or these letters that we’re standing on somehow owe you something… kindly go back to Scott Starring and Iris Galliver and tell them that they are more welcome here than you.
[Erica Toughill and Kevin Alloy exchange sideways glances at each other. O'Connor looks livid, ready to go up against Hayden then and there. Spikes holds him back, politely asking for JOC's mic. When he gets it, he addresses his former deputy.]
SPIKES: Alright, Mister Hayden. If you're so sure that this company is better made in your image, perhaps we can arrange something. Now we don't want just anyone facing Mister O'Connor. Having some ringer who doesn't care about who runs the DCWL just proves us right. To make the point valid, it would have to be someone who has expressed their preference for your order here in the DCWL. Would you agree?
[Kyle thinks this over. He responds with hesitation.]
HAYDEN: Fair enough.
SPIKES: Now I noticed that most of the competitors here under your employ were rather mum about the whole incident at Plunderland. Given that, and given who's already under contract to compete tonight, I think that we should look to those who may not be strictly active as competitors, but could still hold their own in a ring. Would you agree with that as well?
[Hayden stares at Spikes.]
RM: I don't think I like where this is heading. Spikes is clearly going somewhere with this and Hayden doesn't trust him...
CC: ...for good reason...
RM: ...yet he's not saying anything! If he can refute the point...
HAYDEN: That also sounds fair enough.
SPIKES: Excellent. Then I think we have the perfect candidate in mind. He has been bar none your most vocal supporter and just so happens to have a very fine career on his resume. So...
[Shootfire's former GM pivots towards...the announce table?]
SPIKES: Mister Chazz?
RM: Uh oh, Christian?
[O'Connor gets a smirk on his face as Chazz stands at the announce table. He takes off his headset and gets a house mic.]
RM: Don't do it, Christian.
SPIKES: You've been so vocal these last few shows about your disdain for me and for Shootfire Pro in general. Would you care to back up those comments in the ring?
[The crowd cheers! Chazz raises the mic.]
CC: Come on, Spikes, you know I've been retired for a while now.
SPIKES: True, but you're hardly crippled. You look like you could still give half the roster here fits. And with the passion you exuded in deriding us, I'd hardly think you couldn't be motivated to compete here tonight.
HAYDEN: Look, I’ve known for Christian ever since I broke into this business. He retired because of a heart defect in 1999. I don’t think—
SPIKES: If you have a better option, Mister Hayden, I'd love to hear it. Just remember that whomever you choose should fit the criteria we mutually agreed upon earlier. Mister Alloy is unfit to compete. You're not a wrestler. Mister Chazz is the only one who has the talent to make a go of it in this ring and the loyalty needed to prove your point. So what do you say, Mister Chazz?
[CHRIS-TIAN CHAZZ! CHRIS-TIAN CHAZZ!]
CC: Well...
SPIKES: If you don't believe in the cause, of course, we all understand. Or maybe you're just not ready for the ring. Maybe we should go and find one of your old dresses to better suit your current state.
[OOOOOOOH!]
RM: He's just goading you, don't...
CC: YOU'RE ON!
[The crowd roars with approval. Hayden looks to his champion, who stares back at him from his position at the announce table. Spikes bows, then leads his charges out from the ring. As "Don't Tread On Me" kicks in again, we turn back to Rich. Chazz throws down his headset and marches to the back.]
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
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WINNER – Logan Braddock (Block Buster, 12:03)
RM: Impressive debut for Logan Braddock, who just decimated Alton West with solid fundamentals before finishing him off with that Block Buster.
[Braddock clears the ring and heads to the back. Suddenly Max Turbo comes swooping in, trying to revive the very woozy Alton West.]
RM: What is Max Turbo on about all of a sudden? He should be preparing for his match against Bane later tonight…
[Cut back to the announce position Christian Chazz has now been replaced by a younger man in a high-collared shirt, powder blue necktie and grey sport coat. He looks very much like the oft-rumored Anthony Didiano.]
RM: Well, we’re trying to keep things flowing as best we can, ladies and gentlemen. To recap what went down earlier tonight… basically we have a match between Shootfire Pro Wrestling’s James O’Connor and our own Christian Chazz, so filling in at the announcer’s booth is our old broadcast colleague Anthony Didiano.
AD: Rich, what… is… up?
RM: Anthony, before we get to our next match which will decide the Dangerous Championship, we have to talk at some point about Christian Chazz coming out of retirement tonight to face “Cunning” James O’Connor.
AD: I have to say I see James O’Connor’s point. He never got a break from the DCWL from the day he debuted to the night we shut down operations. And considering all the funding and exposure we’re getting from Shootfire Pro Wrestling, he should have kept SPW’s name out of his mouth. Chazz was a trained athlete. He had to know that this was coming.
RM: Well, I don’t agree with that assessment, but in any case, we also have an interpromotional match between Mike Anderson and “The Dream” Marcus Davis. Blaze Crimson has caught up with Anderson. Blaze, over to you!
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
[We fade to the backstage area where the lovely Blaze Crimson stands with Mike Anderson. The cocky youngster is decked out in his usual wrestling attire with a white towel draped around his neck. Anderson stares at the ceiling, cocky smirk on his face with his hands on his hips as Blaze speaks…]
BC: Thanks Rich. I’m standing here with Mike Anderson, who tonight will face SOW’s own ‘The Drea…
[Anderson interrupts Crimson]
MA: Whoa, whoa, whoa young lady. Just hold your tongue right there. I know what you were about to introduce Marcus Davis as, but lets just call him what he is- ‘Average’, ok sweetheart. The only thing ‘Dream’ about Marcus Davis is him thinking he has a chance in hell of beating me.
[Crimson silently counts to ten before she continues.]
BC: It is well documented that Marcus has fought some of the best in the world…
[Anderson chuckles and shakes his head.]
MA: And how many has he beat Blaze? How many REAL World titles has he put around his waist? How many LEGENDS has he defeated? NONE. Marcus Davis is a fraud young lady. A man who tonight will be put in his place.
BC: In his place? I.. I don’t understand.
MA: Of course you don’t because you are not a warrior like me. There’s a pecking order in DCWL, Blaze. There is a place where everyone should be. A spot where everyone knows their role. Marcus Davis role is at the bottom of the ladder. Tonight I destroy the hype that is Marcus Davis.
BC: Your making it sound like it’s going to be easy.
MA: That’s because it is going to be easy Blaze. I’ve watched this guy in action and he couldn’t hold a candle to my skills. He has never fought anybody like me. I just don’t beat people- I punish them. I make them wish they never stepped through the ropes and faced Mike Anderson. Tonight Marcus Davis is going to get what is coming to him.
BC: And that is?
MA: Ultimate punishment.
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
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WINNER – Maurice Thompson (Natives Unite, 14:41)
RM: Nice win for Thompson, and he’s back on track after a couple of tough losses following “Citation Needed.” I was sceptical when Atma starting throwing out those… “Shinning” Wizards, but Thompson’s pretty resilient for an athlete under twenty. I can see that extra training is paying off!
AD: Man, that Atma sure seemed winded coming down the aisle. You could have sworn he was just in a match against someone like Sledge!
[Suddenly, Hell March 1 blares over the loudspeakers and the crowd breaks into a frenzy amid a chorus of boos.]
AD: Uh-oh.
RM: Well, here comes one of the most controversial men to ever enter the ring, let alone hold the belt.
AD: One of the most? Only a reincarnated Adolf Hitler might hold a candle to this guy.
[Julian ‘Bane’ Beckson has stepped out onto the stage looking a little different than we are used too. Instead of wearing either his wrestling gear or standard sweat suit, he has come out wearing a nice button up white shirt and a pair of khaki pants, both items looking a little small for him. Much to the dismay of the audience, he has a mic in his hand and has started to make his way down to the ring.]
RM: It looks like Bane might have something to say here tonight before he has his match with Max Turbo.
AD: Should we let him do that? I’m not sure if the sponsors, if we have any left, would appreciate that.
RM: I don’t think there’s much we can do. He IS the champion after all.
[Beckson has made his way to the ring and is now standing in the center of it with his arm slightly cocked as if he is ready to bring the mic up to his lips. The boos and animosity of the crowd hasn’t died down, however, so it might make it difficult to hear Beckson if he does decide to speak. He decides to give it a shot and brings the mic up to his lips.]
Bane: If I could have your attention please…
[Really nothing bad about that, but it still causes the crowd to increase the volume and hatred behind their boos. Beckson sighs and drops the mic slightly, allowing the crowd to release their hostility and anger directed towards him. After this second wave of boos and jeers dies down ever so slightly, Beckson once more raises the mic to his lips.]
Bane: If you will allow me to say something…
[The crowd once again erupts into a heated frenzy towards the man standing in the middle of the ring. A few fans have decided to toss some wads of paper in the ring at Beckson, littering the ring with random pieces of trash.]
RM: I can’t really blame them for not wanting to hear what this man has to say. I don’t think I want to hear what Bane has to say.
[Beckson has begun to pace around the ring looking slightly distraught. He keeps shaking his head and mouthing the words “I can’t do this” as the crowd continues to berate him. At one point, Beckson makes his way over to the ropes and looks like he is actually going to leave.]
RM: The crowd is really getting to Bane tonight which is pretty out of character for him. When you say the things that Bane says, you have to expect hostility from most people and Bane usually blows off that hostility with a flick of the wrist.
[Beckson has one leg over the top rope when he stops and takes a deep breath. He slowly brings the leg back into the ring and makes his way back to the center. He is looking down at the mat waiting for a break in the animosity expressed by the live audience so that he might try to speak again. Once it quiets down some, Beckson once again tries to speak.]
Bane: I have come out here tonight to apologize.
[The jeering remains steady but not as hostile. Beckson has obviously caught the crowd’s attention.]
AD: Huh…
RM: I can honestly say that I wasn’t expecting that.
[Beckson continues.]
Bane: I have been asked by management to make a public apology for my words and actions in recent weeks. It seems that they think I might have offended and hurt some people in my interviews and promos and that is bad in whole for the company’s image. I would like for you to know that it was never my intention to hurt anyone with the things I say and believe…
[The boos are starting to make a comeback.]
Bane: …and that I am truly sorry if I caused any harm with my actions. I would like to extend a personal apology to some individuals as well. The first two people I would like to personally apologize too are…
[A look of disgust is crossing Beckson’s face. It is obvious that he isn’t exactly happy to be out here doing this and he struggles to get the rest of the line out.]
Bane: … Maurice Thompson and his girlfriend Cheryl. [Pop from the crowd at the mention of Thompson’s name.] I realize that Cheryl is in no way associated with the DCWL and therefore should not be the victim of personal attacks by myself or any other individual on the roster. I was wrong in making any sort of rude and/or sexual comments directed towards you and your relationship with your boyfriend. I realize that you will probably never forgive me, but I hope that you accept my apology in all of its sincerity.
[The crowd breaks out into louder boos, obviously not convinced with Beckson’s “sincerity”.]
Bane: The second person I would like to extend an apology too is the young ni… the young African-American boy, Jerome, who lives in the same apartment complex as I do. The young man is a big fan of mine and I have repeatedly ignored his requests for autographs in the past, which is something I should be proud to be giving out. Also, I might have accidentally [Beckson sneers ever so slightly] injured the young man’s mother when she was trying to obtain an autograph for her son and that is an action I am deeply regretting ever happening. In an effort to make amends, I would like to offer Jerome an autographed poster and simulation title belt and a brand new Bane t-shirt all free of charge. Management would also like for me to extend an invitation to Jerome to attend our very next show, Drink Black Hole Brew, with travel, food, and hotel expenses completely covered by the company and myself. Jerome will have the chance to hang out with many wrestlers backstage and obtain as many autographs from the various talent of the DCWL as he pleases. He will also get to see the backstage workings and what it takes to put on a DCWL show that our audience has grown to love. And finally, he will get an officially signed contract for one day and earn the salary of a DCWL wrestler for the evening. I really hope that Jerome’s mother will allow her son to take advantage of this opportunity and accept the gift and apologies of the DCWL and especially myself.
I would finally like to apologize to each of the four competitors that were qualifying to face me tonight. It would have been an honor to face any one of you in the ring and look forward to the opportunity to place my title on the line against any one of you.
Thank you.
[With that, Beckson drops the mic in the center of the ring and makes his way to the back.]
RM: I’m going to pretty much assume that it wasn’t Bane’s idea to come out here and do that himself.
AD: Yeah, I’d be willing to bet anything that both Hayden and Alloy put him up to that.
RM: Well, DCWL fans, we’ve already seen one Shootfire Pro star compete in a DCWL ring, and now we’re going to see a second. DCWL fans will remember the name Erica Toughill, who competed for us between 2004 and 2008 and now she’s returned to where she got her start, although from what we heard earlier tonight, she’s looking to crack some DCWL heads. Sierra Browne is undefeated in the Sirens division and she’s already secured a bye to compete for the Sirens Championship at “Drink Black Hole Brew” later this month.
AD: I was talking with Sierra Browne earlier tonight and she says she has some unfinished business with the Queen of Clubs. This could be her toughest match yet.
RM: Let’s throw it down to Buckley Luck for the match announcements. Buckley!
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
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WINNER – Sierra Browne (The Truth superkick, 19:40)
RM: And you can put another check in the ‘win’ column for “The Show!”
AD: Hey, Erica loses in the DCWL. Must feel like old times for her, huh?
RM: Sierra Browne proves that she plays second-fiddle to no one, and you can bet she’s going to be bringing the same attitude to “Drink Black Hole Brew,” when she competes for the Sirens Championship.
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
[The scene opens to the outstanding(yeah right) investigative journalist, Dan Clear. He is standing beside, “The Dream” Marcus Davis the owner of SOW, NJWF, and SPW competitor. He is already in his attire, a laid back look over his face as he has a smile on his face. Davis is extremely muscular, and looks to be in great shape.]
[Clear seems absolutely giddy that he finally has a story to bring to the people, suddenly we hear Britney Spears’, “Hit Me Baby One More Time” go off. Davis looks over at clear with a look of confusion on his face. Clear continue looking forward with his, “I’ve got a big story” look until Davis clears his throat. Clear dejectedly pulls a cell phone out of his pocket. Davis shakes his head.]
Clear: ….It’s my mom….
[Davis takes the microphone away from Clear, and makes a, “brush off” hand motion. Clear walks off with his head down and we hear in the distance…]
Clear: Mom! You made me lose a story!
[Davis turns back towards the camera after laughing for a moment.]
Davis: Now that is out of the way…It looks like tonight here in Thunder Bay…Mr. Mike Anderson believes he is going to make an example out of me. He thinks I’m here to shove SOW down the DCWL’s throat…
[Davis raises his right index finger and makes the, “No..No” motion made famous by Mount Mutumbo.]
Davis: He’s wrong on both counts, nobody makes an example out of me. Especially, a little snot nosed punk that already thinks he’s a legend. I’m going to let everyone here in on a little secret…Come closer…
[The camera man steps a little closer.]
Davis: A little closer…
[The camera man gets right up in Davis’ face causing the picture to look distorted.]
Davis: Woah..Woah…A little too close!
[He backs up a few steps.]
Davis: Perfect…Now back to Mike Anderson, tonight you’re going to have the biggest wake up call in your career. You will learn that you have a long way to go to reach the level of even uttering the word, “legend.” You’re not even at the top of the list for Rookie Of The Year in DCWL, and you feel that you are already a legend.
[Davis shakes his head.]
Davis: Wow…I’m not sure whose more delusional you or Joshua Curtis…I’m not going to guarantee victory Mike, I’m not going to say I’m going to go out there and beat you up, or that I’m going to make your moma feel the ass whipin’ I’m about to lay on you. The only thing I will say, is that I am going to make you realize that…
[Marcus lowers his voice as he begins motioning his right index finger at the camera.]
Davis: _I_ am someone that you need to respect. That is something someone in your shoes needs to realize, understand, and embrace…
RE-SPE-CT…
Davis: You could go a long way with understanding how to respect those that have been around longer than you,. But, that’s your mistake. I just hope you’re ready my friend, you _BETTER_ be ready.
[The scene fades as Marcus walks out of camera shot.]
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
[We cut backstage to Julian Beckson who is WALKING. As he rounds the corner, he plows over some poor soul who happened to be in his way. After a few steps...]
VOICE: Bane!
[Beckson stops, clearly against his better judgment, as we see the man he knocked over rush to the shot and smooth out his hair.]
BANE: You’re interrupting my time I should be using to get ready for my match tonight. This better be good or you’re a dead man.
[Paying no heed to this otherwise dire warning...is DCWL reporter Dan Clear. More than anything, he seems excited.]
CLEAR: I'm here with DCWL Champion Julian "Bane" Beckson. Bane, how do you feel about how you've been treated here by DCWL management?
[Bane instantly looks suspicious, but doesn't answer.]
CLEAR: Does it bother you that Kyle Hayden and Kevin Alloy are working, even now, to take that title away from you?
BANE: What is this about? Who sent you here?
CLEAR: My crack research has led me to find out that plans are in motion to screw you out of that title, Bane. As DCWL's lead investigative reporter, it's my job to get the TRUTH to the masses.
[Bane turns and walks away. Dan follows after.]
CLEAR: They wants to impress their liberal friends by putting the title on Thompson or Max Turbo at the earliest possible time. Doesn't any of that bother you?
[Bane turns, angry.]
BANE: Does it bother me? DOES IT BOTHER ME?!? Well of course it would… wait. Didn’t you see the apology I had to issue earlier tonight? I have to watch what I say and who I say it to. Are you trying to get me in trouble and fired?
CLEAR: No, not at all. In fact, I've ALSO found out that there are people who don't really care about the political beliefs of their employees, just about their talent. Your employment here would be assured.
[Bane is taken aback by the statement.]
BANE: Who are these people?
CLEAR: Someone who believes that talent should win over political correctness. Someone who thinks Kyle Hayden's bitten off more than he can chew running this company and is letting his liberal thinking cloud his judgment.
[Beckson looks at Clear, then looks at the camera, then back at Clear.]
BANE: Well, whoever these “people” are, they at least have their heads on their shoulders. Just because I may not be the most popular guy outside of the ring because… of some of my personal views… my talent should speak for itself in the ring. The leftist community seems to think that it shouldn’t be based on the work that you do and instead on the things that you say. I’m sure that some of the people in charge of this company might be thinking slightly along the wrong lines of this. They’re much too worried about my beliefs and words and not about my work.
CLEAR: Yeah, personally I don't trust anyone who so obviously worships that Obama guy. I mean, with all that socialism he's doing, he's nothing but a Communist!
BANE: You have that one right.
CLEAR: He's so TERRIBLE for this country it's obscene!
[Bane nods. Dan looks emboldened.]
CLEAR: I mean, that guy is the worst. He's just as bad as Hitler!
BANE: What did you just say?
CLEAR: Yeah, I'm surprised his followers aren't already going Seig HRRRKGHGHG
[Bane has grabbed Dan Clear by the throat and lifts him 3 feet off the ground with Clear’s back pinned against the wall. Bane begins to scream and berate Clear.]
BANE: HOW DARE YOU!! Fuhrer Hitler led his country and his people to live up to their full potential while Obama is leading this country straight down the toilet. If you learned any political history in your life, you would see how VASTLY different the two are from each other and that Obama will never and can never hold a flame to Fuhrer Hitler. If we were ever graced with the even the slightest possibility to be led by a man as truly inspiring as Hitler, we would be fools not to take it. The Fuhrer would unlock this country’s vast and limitless potential instead of it being the garbage heap for the rest of the world.
[Bane turns and looks at the camera and then back at Dan Clear.]
Bane: Shit! Now look at what you made me do!
[With that, Bane flips Dan Clear over his head in almost an overhead chokeslam motion and slams Clear right through a table covered in the local catering that was provided for the crew. The table shatters into splinters and Clear is covered in the local cuisine of the area. As Clear tries to get up slowly, Bane kicks him in the ribs hard just for good measure before he walks off camera.]
CLEAR: *cough* Back to you, Rich. Owwww…
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
RM: Uh… Thanks, Dan. Insightful as always. Moving on… Mario Speedwagon surrendered the Dangerous Championship belt to management a couple of weeks ago, and now we have a match to name a new champion. American Freebear, who is rapidly gaining a huge cult following in the DCWL will take on the first Dangerous Champion, Derrick L. Ford.
AD: Everyone is talking about Freebear’s advantage in strength, brawling, even agility and how it’s going to carry him to the belt. I hate to be the guy to go contrarian, but Derrick L. Ford finds ways to win. Two-time champion.
RM: Well we saw some heated words exchanged between these two on “War of the Words,” but the mission of the DCWL is to settle it in the ring. So let’s do just that and hand it over to Buckley Luck.
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WINNER and NEW DANGEROUS CHAMPION – Derrick L. Ford (x2) (Hansen Lariat, 13:42)
RM: New champion! Derrick Ford repeats history!
AD: Damn, Ford and Freebear just throwing bombs at each other.
[Ford grabs the belt from Buckley Luck’s table and rolls back into the ring as “Fuel” continues to play over the loudspeakers. Freebear rolls to the ropes and sits himself up.]
RM: Derrick Ford and American Freebear very much set the tone of this match as being a battle of two opposites, and it looks like the rich kid beat out the good old boy, at least for tonight.
[Ford, however, can’t help but take the opportunity to not leave well enough alone. He holds out the belt in front of Freebear’s face, verbally berating him with a big, cruel grin. Freebear is unimpressed as Ford shoves the belt in his face before snatching it away. The new champion continues his trash talk just long enough, and then decides to punctuate it with a smack across Freebear’s face!]
AD: Hey!
[“Fuel” cuts out and crowd goes berserk as Freebear swipes his open palm over the torso of Derrick Ford. Ford doubles over and tries to stumble away, his eyes big as dinner plates and the breath knocked out of him.]
RM: American Freebear has heard enough and that slap from our classless Dangerous Champion was enough to send him over the edge.
[Derrick Ford can’t get away fast enough and he walks straight into another Bear Claw from the Freebear!]
“FREEEE- BEAR!” “FREEEE- BEAR!”
“FREEEE- BEAR!” “FREEEE- BEAR!”
“FREEEE- BEAR!” “FREEEE- BEAR!”
[Ford crumples to the mat and Freebear crosses to the nearest corner. He points upward and his Canadian neighbors roar in approval. American Freeebear begins to mount the turnbuckles.]
RM: He’s going up! This is a 300+ pounder climbing the ropes!
[Freebear climbs to the top rope and dives backward with a Moonsault splash that sends the Thunder Bay crowd into thunderous cheering.]
RM: OH MY GOODNESS! BEAR FORCE ONE ON THE NEW DANGEROUS CHAMPION!
AD: I understand being a little incensed, but time and place, Freebear!
[Freebear picks up the Dangerous Championship belt and holds it overhead. A pair of referees emerge to restore order, and Freebear lowers the belt, draping it on the chest of the prone Derrick Ford before making his exit and heading back up the ramp to the back.]
RM: Well, you have to think that these two are going to meet up again in the near future. And right now, ladies and gentlemen, it’s intermission time, and that means it’s time for Hollywood Panzerotti!
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
[The Camera beeps softly to life upon none other than DCWL's Hollywood Panzerotti, decked out in a yellow zebra-skin pimp suit that would be considered too garish for Halloween. We find him seated on plush chaise-longue and in stark contrast to the man directly across from him. Sporting a dark brown leather coat, khaki slacks, brown leather loafers, a black silk shirt, and the always present diamond studded platinum Rolex, is Leon Corella in a matching chair of his own. He had his calf propped over one knee, and his hands clasped as he looked to the man who would be interviewing him.]
Hollywood- Welcome one and all to Hollywood Panzerotti's Cheap Talk. Yes it's cheap, but I get paid, so who cares. Let's move forward! Here I have the one man who has gone out of his way to avoid backstage interviews. First there was that Sexpot, Blaze...
[...HP curled one hand into a fist, raised it high, and then smashed it down into an open palm...]
...SPLAT... Crash and Burn on that one... Then there was Dan Clear, who damn near got mugged because he's a horse's ass and doesn't have the talent of Ol' Panzerotti!...
Corella- ...More like persistence...
[...Panzerotti shot Corella a big grin...]
Hollywood- That too!
[...and Corella shot him a flat stare...]
Corella- ...Start asking questions. Maybe if I see one of these damned things to the end, you people will stop hounding me for answers to questions that don't even matter.
[...with a nod, and a clearing of the throat, HP fires off his first question...]
Hollywood- *AH-AH-HEMMM* So, Leo, do you mind if I call you Leo?
[...Corella raised a hand to protest, but Panzerotti continued anyway's, gathering a clip board from off camera and giving it a cursory glance over...]
Hollywood- ...anyway's, Leo... it says here you're from Providence, Rhode Island, but that's not where you came from originally...
[...Leon shook his head...]
Corella- No, I was born in New Orleans, Louisiana.
Hollywood- I take it you're a big fan of Crawfish and Gumbo then, with a little ONYON and a lil' mooooo WWWWIIIINNNEEE...eh?
[...Corella shoots him a quick scowl and Hollywood chuckles nervously, backing into his seat with visible discomfort...]
Hollywood-...meh heh heh... So, Leo... why don't you have an accent?
Corella- I was born there, but not raised. We moved to Maine a year after I was born, and once I was out of preschool and kindergarten, it was private schools all the way.
[...Hollywood looks down the sheet once again, then back to Corella...]
Hollywood- Speaking of education, it also says on here that you also went to Harvard.
[...Corella gave another nod...]
Corella- Yes, I spent 4 years getting a Bachelor's degree in Business and Finance. It's one of the key reason's I haven't squandered the family fortune away. Wise investments and good business practices have kept me out of the poor house and well funded enough to pretty much follow my passion for wrestling in general.
[...HP smirks and mutters softly...]
Hollywood- ...Lucky Monkey Humper....
[...Corella's brow arches...]
Corella- Excuse me...?
Hollywood- Nothing, nothing... So with all that schooling going on, how exactly did you find time for wrestling? It says here also that you have been wrestling at a college level since the age of 19, and began wrestling professionally at 23.
[...Letting it slide, Corella's expression relaxes...]
Corella- Let's just say, for many years I didn't have much of a personal life. It was pretty much devoted to learning the tricks of the trade, and honing my natural gifts, the skills instilled by my father and grand father, and doing whatever it took to become the absolute best at what I do.
Hollywood- ...But there was a time in your life when you were not at the level you are now... In fact, in the 1999 edition of the Wrestling Inquirer, it was stated that "Leon Corella has all the potential in the world, but absolutely zero personality." What a sick burn...
[...Corella's features darken a bit, his eyes averting to the camera...]
Corella- ...Harsh, yes... but it didn't kill me. It only made me that much stronger.
Hollywood- ...Then there is your career. A sad tale of mistakes, hardship, and disappointment. If they wrote a book about your career, it would be labeled a Greek tragedy.
[...His eyes whipped back to HP. Leon's nostrils flared, brow furrowed, jaw set, and face redden in an instant reaction. At any moment, Corella made the impression that he could leap from that chair and rip Hollywood's head off! Hollywood quickly threw his hands up defensively...]
Hollywood- ...I'm just saying, man... You've had a rough run! That's all! No need to get violent!
[...He leans back in the chair, taking in several deep breaths to try and reign in that terrible temper...]
Hollywood- Seems I hit a nerve there...
Corella- There is a reason I don't like doing interviews. It always goes back to my career. Am I aware that my career is a joke? Yes. Yes I am. My career went to shit because of two things. Early on, I was very naive to the business. My father died before he could teach me about the business side of wrestling, and my grand father came from a much different era than the one we have today. I had no guide to show me the light, just a set of skills and the know-how to use them. As for the second killer of my career, I am a lousy backstage politician. I'm not here to have smoke blown up my ass, nor am I here to kiss someone else's.
[...Corella unprops that leg and leans forward...]
Corella- Unfortunately, I made the mistake of thinking it was the fan's fault, and began to take it out on them. It made for great drama, but not for a great fan base. Slap on a healthy dose of an ever growing ego to match that building frustration, and you have a ticking time bomb just waiting to explode, and explode I did. Many times as a matter of fact. I regret every miscalculated step I made, but now I'm back to rectify my mistakes. Does that answer any questions about my career you might have?
[...Not sure exactly how to continue, Hollywood moves down his list and continues on...]
Hollywood- In your last outing, you faced The Native, Maurice Thompson. Now in your promo on War of the Worlds, you stated that you allowed Maurice to pretty much pummel you in the ring in an effort to show him that nothing he could do could put you down... is that true, or are you just trying to save face and cover your ass?
[...Corella's eyes widen slightly in shock, quickly followed by that angry scowl once again. Panzerotti gulps as a hint of terror marks itself across his features...]
Corella- ...If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to get your ass kicked, Panzerotti....
[...HP shakes his head in vehement denial...]
Hollywood- No sir! I just want what those other two bozos couldn't get! The full Story.
[...Corella smirks, deciding to humor the man...]
Corella- ...No, every word of it was true. You see it's all about breathing technique. If you know how to breath, you can pace yourself and outlast just about any man in the ring. Maurice blew up, basically. He didn't pace himself and just kept going and going...
[...Corella points to the mark that still resides on his forehead from being split open at Overdrawn...]
Corella- ....It wasn't without a price, however. He did do some damage...
[...He then drops the hand back down...]
Corella- Do you know what really infuriates me? If he had a little more seasoning, he would have won that match. What I did was a huge, irresponsible gamble.
[...It was Panzerotti who now had his eyebrow arched...]
Hollywood- Are you paying the kid a compliment? What about all that other stuff you said in the promo?
[...Corella smirked...]
Corella- Think of it as motivational speaking... He's a rookie, and a rookie doesn't need to be coddled. He needs to be shown the harsh reality that is our sport. People are going to bash you constantly from all directions. They will say anything to get a rise out of you, but the moment you let that happen, let the assholes get to you... that's it. You're done.
[...Raising a hand out in front of him, Leon made a quick flat line gesture...]
Corella- ...Because at that moment, your head is completely out of the game, and you spend more time thinking about what some asshole who doesn't even know you personally said, instead of the match at hand.
[...Looking into the camera, Corella points his finger to the lens as if to address Maurice...]
Corella- ...that is why you failed against Bane, and that is why you ultimately failed against me Thompson. You're so eager to prove yourself that you don't pace yourself and think it through, instead blowing up to the point where you can't even walk more than three feet without gasping for air.
[...Panzerotti, feeling that he had let the interview linger too long on one subject, finally asked his next question...]
Hollywood- Well, we already know your thoughts on Bane, as they have been well documented. Tonight, you've got a match with The Mad Cow. You do know the guy was state certified, right?
[...Corella smirked...]
Corella- You show me papers and a photo of Mad Cow in a straight jacket, and I'll consider humoring that notion. I think he's nothing more than a gimmick who preys upon the inept and unskilled utilizing whatever mind-fuck he can to get the upper hand and win.
[...HP shrugged his shoulders...]
Hollywood- What's your plan, Leo?
Corella- Simple, The crazier his strategy, the crazier mine will be. My greatest gift in the ring is the ability to adapt to any circumstance, and I am not taking the Cow lightly. He will be a difficult opponent, but not impossible, even in the slightest...
[...Nodding his head, HP moves to the closing segment...]
Hollywood- Well that's about all the time we have, anything you would like to say to your fans?
[...Corella looks to the camera, smirking...]
Corella- Anything I have to say to them, will be said in the ring....
[...With that, Corella rises from his chair and steps off camera...]
Hollywood- Well that's all for Talking Cheap with Hollywood Panzerotti. Back to you bitches at ringside!
[...Fade to Ringside...]
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
RM: Thanks, Hollywo—HEY!
AD: Still letting him pick on you, huh, Rich?
RM: Old habits die hard, Anthony. Well, fans, the next match is the first in what we hope will be a string of Spirit of Wrestling vs. Dangerous Championship Wrestling League matches. SOW founder Marcus Davis issued an open challenge to the DCWL at “Overdrawn at the Memory Bank” in Bismarck and within hours it was accepted by the DCWL’s Mike Anderson.
AD: If you’re not familiar with Marcus Davis, you should be. With “The Dream’s” repertoire of kicks and wild submission holds and Mike Anderson’s mastery of classic wrestling, this one should be a barnburner.
RM: Let’s throw it down to Buckley Luck!
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
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WINNER – Mike Anderson (Rolling Pin Fall, 14:25)
RM: ANDERSON IS STILL UNDEFEATED! Another win for the DCWL!
AD: Marcus Davis—it was like the rug got pulled out from under him. I think he made the critical mistake of underestimating Mike Anderson and he paid big.
[Anderson steps through the ropes and heads to the back, a maniacal grin on his face, watching Marcus Davis piece together what happened in the ring. “The Dream” leans on the top turnbuckle shaking his head. He salutes the fans and then makes his exit as the fans applaud his effort.]
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
[Cut backstage to furniture. Leather recliners, glass coffee table, etc. A large flatscreen TV is mounted on the wall. In the recliners are Offramp Alebua and Gabrielle RioPaah. Offramp has a large universal remote in his large, universal hand. To one side sits Moses Pupulolo. He is in a wheelchair with a blanket over his legs and a cast on his ankle. There are very prominent bags under his eyes. On the floor roughly eighteen inches from the screen sits Ozzie Emshamo, fixated to whatever is on the television at the time. Offramp fiddles with the remote and reads out the show description. Gabby RioPaah is unimpressed.]
OFFRAMP: …Channel 26 is the D-List celebrity poker channel. I think I was on that. I can’t remember.
GABRIELLE: Look, just put it on the Biography Channel.
[She reaches for the remote, but Offramp pulls it away.]
OFFRAMP: Ah, ah, ah. Patience, patience. On Channel 27 is Part Seven of a twelve-part miniseries set against war-torn Pomona starring… ooh, Lorenzo Lamos! You like him, don’t you, Gabby?
GABRIELLE: No, I like the Biography Channel.
OFFRAMP: …And then on Channel 28, they’ve got that thing where they break into your house and rearrange the furniture…
GABRIELLE: BIOGRAPHY CHANNEL! BIOGRAPHY CHANNEL! BIOGRAPHY CHANNEL! BIOGRAPHY CHANNEL! BIOGRAPHY CHANNEL! BIOGRAPHY CHANNEL! BIOGRAPHY CHANNEL! BIOGRAPHY CHANNEL!
[Suddenly Ozzie grabs the remote from Offramp’s hand. He changes the station to the Biography Channel and then smashes the remote in two over his own head before handing it back to Offramp.]
OFFRAMP: Awwww…
GABRIELLE: Thank you, Ozzie.
OZZIE: I like Crystal Pepsi.
[Ozzie sits back down a foot and a half away from the TV.]
VOICE: [on TV] “…but often would spend countless nights with hordes of groupies in various states of undress, sleeping in his own vomit…”
MOSES: You guys don’t believe me when I say that John Blackstock and Eric Quinney killed Shane “Stretcher” Preston and buried him in their yard.
[Offramp looks up from duct-taping the remote back together.]
OFFRAMP: Look, I like that you’re trying to piece together Shane Preston’s whereabouts, but we don’t even know that Complete Control even lives with each other.
MOSES: Well, we live together, don’t we?
GABRIELLE: Speaking of which, I’d like to make a simple request: no more pubes in the soap. It feels so unhygienic.
VOICE: For the last time, NO!
[Gabrielle. Offramp, and Moses turn to see what has interrupted them: Joe Pansac, Mina Eyre, and Wolf Masterson briskly walking, with Eyre turned towards somebody behind them. Offramp is still re-assembling the remote.]
EYRE: Didn't you hear what he said? We already have three!
[Into the frame steps the massive gingerheaded Caleb Brantseg. His face hangs sadly, turning his eyes towards the agitated Eyre.]
BRANTSEG: But I keep telling you I fit the gimmick! I mean, come on, they implied I was a serial killer!
WOLF: Dude, we're about great wrestlers stuck with crappy horror gimmicks, not awful plodding big men who waste an awesome angle.
[Caleb tries to defend himself, but a voice rings out from the hallway.]
CLEAR: CALEB! GET OUT HERE AND HELP ME WITH MY BAGS!
[Brantseg sighs.]
BRANTSEG: SORRY, UNCLE DAN!
[He turns back to Horror Show.]
BRANTSEG: We'll catch up later, alright?
CLEAR: AND THEN YOU CAN HELP ME GET THIS CHEESE PLATTER OUT OF MY...
[Thankfully Dan Clear becomes inaudible. Off goes Brantseg, much to the relief of all three. Mina rolls her eyes.]
GABRIELLE: OY!
[For the first time, the two teams lock eyes.]
GABRIELLE: You're blocking my view, Bloodrayne!
[Wolf looks confused.]
WOLF: Why are you guys sitting around here watching TV?
MOSES: Ooh, listen to Mister Stripey-Tights. Typical hegemonic behavior, you know. You probably think we sit around and just watch the ocean and eat coconuts all day. Well we happen to enjoy all forms of culture and entertainment, Mr. Wolfmother.
WOLF: I was only saying that...
MOSES: Oh, here we go. Have to explain everything to the dirty savages twice. Oh, "muga-buga ooga-booga. the only ones who understand me are my shrunken heads in my collection in my grass hut." You didn't see me carrying the Trios belt around in my teeth did you? Why I have half a mind to show you my masters in linguistics from MIT... If... I weren't in this wheelchair and the Biography of Valerie Bertinelli wasn't on right after this.
PANSAC: Oh, come on, lay off the guy. And besides, you're not the only ones who get stereotyped around here. How many times do I have to shed my own blood...and others, I guess...before I can finally be taken seriously? I'm the friggin Deadman, not an extra from a George Romero movie! Do you guys realize how hard it is to establish a career while purposefully limiting mobility?
[Joe looks around. They seem to have no response for this.]
PANSAC: Or dumping a bag of flour on yourself?
[Again, no response. The Deadman continues with more confidence.]
PANSAC: And, seriously, I'm tired of yelling "BRRRAAAAIIIINNNNNNSSSS" at the top of my lungs every thirty seconds. I'd LOVE to see any of you guys cut a promo while only using the same two or three words over and over again.
OZZIE [without looking up]: Spaghetti.
PANSAC: YOU'RE NOT HELPING!
GABRIELLE: Flippin' Nora. Shut up moanin'. You're just jealous of me because I exude femininity while you and the rest of the Sirens are all busy dolling yourselves up for those poncey patriarchal audience members.
EYRE: Oh, whatever bitch. Try taking a fall with fake Vampire teeth, worrying about biting your tongue every time someone tries to suplex you. Sure the blood makes for a cool effect, but they make capsules if I wanted to be intimidating. And don't get me started on being surrounded by macho men with a blood-sucker gimmick. I either get jokes about their ex-wives or telling me what else I can suck. That's sexual harrassment, damnit!
[Offramp finally stops fiddling with the remote and admits defeat.]
OFFRAMP: Oh, I could only *dream* of sexual harassment. Most people assume we just club them and drag them back to the village and then go out and get white woman poon. I don't know about you, but it tough to project manliness and sensitivity while cooking and eating your enemies. I mean, how hard is it for a single gentleman from the Samoa Islands to find the right small group of girls? All I'm looking for is nine or ten women to settle down with.
WOLF: At least the ladies go for you exotic types. All that damn spirit gum...some of it takes AGES to get off. And what happens when you forget a spot? I'd be mackin on some chick on the dance floor when she'd ask why a small rodent was living on the back of my neck. It's EMBARRASSING, I tell ya!
OFFRAMP: At least we look like our gimmicks. Shouldn't you look more like a wolf?
WOLF: I'LL KILL YOU!
[Wolf lunges at Offramp. The other five are quickly embroiled in the melee, with the two trios in a full pull apart brawl. Pansac and Offramp begin hurling small items at each other, while Wolf Masterson hangs down Offramp's back. Mine Eyre and Gabby RioPaah are having a grand old time wrapping their hands around each other's throat. Moses does his best to lend moral support.]
MOSES: Hey! Watch the ankle, guys! OW!
[Only Ozzie, still engrossed in the Biography Channel, seems above the fray. Suddenly, everyone stops, frozen in mid-brawl like ice water ran down their spine.]
VOICE: What... the HELL...
[Kyle Hayden.]
HAYDEN: ...are you doing in here?!
[The Annoyed Samoans and Horrorshow have a long look at each other. Then they all speak at once.]
MOSES: They started it!
WOLF: Did not!
GABRIELLE: Did too!
HAYDEN: HOLD IT!
[Silence again.]
HAYDEN: I was going to give the winner of your match a shot at the Trios Championship at the next show. But until I can trust you guys to stay out of the VIP suite for our new Governor General, I guess I'm going to have to give that title shot to Da Ace Killas.
THE ANNOYED SAMOANS: [in unison] AWWWW!
HAYDEN: Now you trios run along and have your match. And think about what you did.
[They file out. Mutterings of "jerk" can be heard.]
HAYDEN: You too, Ozzie.
OZZIE: Tough love.
HAYDEN: Yes, I know.
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
RM: Wait… What? Governor General?
AD: I don’t know… Kyle Hayden setting up a VIP room *not* for Henry Spikes or Marcus Davis? Something is going down here.
RM: And did I hear right? Are Unique Element now suddenly going to be facing Killa 187 and Ert Williams for the Trios Championship?
AD: Even with Necro Bartender their only ally is luck. I don’t think Gunderson, Lindsay and Wilson are going be losing any sleep in the next 21 days.
RM: Still, Da Ace Killas have racked up championships. Lots of them, surprisingly… In any case, speaking of championships, Leon Corella has earned himself a shot at the DCWL Grand Championship in six weeks at “Ark of Triocalypse,” but up next he faces literally his biggest opponent yet. Mad Cow burst onto the scene back at “Overdrawn at the Memory Bank” when he totalled Alt—The Great Atma.
AD: Leon Corella is no Great Atma, though, and I think he proved it when he first debuted if you follow me. Mad Cow is all manic energy, but Leon Corella has so many weapons in his arsenal. If he can stop Mad Cow, then I think the match is his.
RM: Let’s take you to the ring, fans!
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
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WINNER – Mad Cow (UDDER Disaster, 12:33)
RM: MAD COW WINS! OH MY GOODNESS!
AD: That’s got to be the biggest upset I’ve ever seen!
RM: Look at Corella! The look on his face says it all! He can’t believe it!
AD: I’m looking at him now and I can’t believe it! He tried to kick out, but there’s no way you’re kicking out when a near 400 pounder comes crashing down on your chest.
[The Mad Cow poses to the approval of the crowd. Corella looks at Mad Cow and looks back out to the crowd in disbelief. He chuckles bitterly to himself, then turns to face his opponent.]
RM: Oh, what’s Leon Corella got in mind here?
AD: He’s a fiercely proud man and I don’t know what’s going through his mind.
[Just as Corella looks like he’s about to make his move, a steel folding chair plunges into the back of his leg!]
RM: HEY!
[The owner of the chair is in a yellow shirt with a large question mark on the front.]
RM: DOUG FOSTER! Not again!
AD: Last time he was here, he took out Mario Speedwagon! Now he’s hunting for big game!
[Corella crumples to the mat. Before Mad Cow can react, Foster swings the chair overhead onto Mad Cow’s head.]
*CRRR-ACK*
[Mad Cow remains upright however, just wobbling. A second overhead chair shot, however, drops the Bizarre Bovine with a force that shakes the entire ring!]
RM: “The Question” attacking anything that moves!
AD: No one can stop him! I wouldn’t want to get near the crazy man swinging a chair.
[Leon Corella gets to one knee, snarling like a wild animal at Foster, but before he can react, Foster kicks him in the abdomen and hoists him up…]
RM: No! No!
[…Dropping him onto the chair with a spinning piledriver!]
RM: OH MY GOODNESS!
AD: HYPOTHESIS ONTO A STEEL CHAIR!
[Corella lands flat on his back, knocked out. The DCWL faithful are rabidly unhappy with Foster. Foster just coldly exits the ring and starts heading to the back, where the camera catches him met by a young woman in a black business suit clapping her hands.]
RM: My god, what is the reason for all this?
AD: Just savagery from Doug Foster. For it’s own sake.
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
[Cut backstage to Blaze Crimson, who is with her colleague Christian Chazz. Chazz has switched to track pants and a black t-shirt with the teal DCWL logo across the front. Blaze is not interviewing Chazz like any other wrestler. The tone in her vice indicates she is talking to a friend.]
BC: Well, Chazz, you accepted the challenge of “Cunning” James O’Connor on behalf of the entire DCWL. It’s been ten years since you last stepped foot in the ring. Are you at all intimidated by the task at hand?
[Christian Chazz has changed from his color commentary persona to his wrestling persona of old.]
CC: Whoa-whoa-whoa, wait-wait-wait. First off… How am I looking?
[He lifts his hand to his face. It contains a pocket mirror.]
CC: I’m lookin’ niiiiiiice.
[He smooths his hair.]
CC: Oh, I tried to show James O’Connor the light. Didn’t I love James O’Connor back in the day? My own flesh I don’t love bettah! But when I tried to show him the light he just said “nooooooooo.” Now, James, there’s no need to live like a pig for the rest of your life.I’ve been waiting a decade for this moment to arrive and you just gave it to me, hot shot. All you’re going to do is walk straight into No Man’s Land, and you’re gonna tap your way right back out. So many people have the Cunning, James, but so few people are me, boy-o.
[Chazz exits, still looking into the mirror. Blaze watches his go, then sighs and looks directly into the camera.]
BC: Rich, Anthony. I don’t know if I can watch.
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
RM: Well, I know what you mean, Blaze. Christian Chazz definitely taking a risk here stepping into the ring with James O’Connor.
AD: Yeah, James O’Connor, when he first debuted didn’t look at home in the squared circle, and here we are three years removed from his first match and he’s the one of fastest rising stars in all of Shootfire Pro Wrestling.
RM: And let’s not mince words—he’s got a lot of ways to hurt you.
AD: And it’s like we’ve said, the wrestling of today is not the same as wrestling was in the 90s.
RM: Well, no point in belabouring it. Let’s just go to the ring.
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
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WINNER – James O’Connor (Rear Naked Choke, 15:09)
RM: Well… Not an unexpected result.
AD: Chazz has nothing to be ashamed of, but James O’Connor had too many weapons and Chazz’s conditioning can’t be 100% in any case.
[Chazz drops to his knees on the mat, anguish overtaking him as James O’Connor shadowboxes.]
RM: Just like Erica Toughill, James O’Connor has come a long way since he was last in the DCWL, I just wish—
[Rich Manning tails off as James O’Connor swats Chazz upside the head. Chazz barely reacts, his will to keep fighting sapped completely. Suddenly O’Connor punches him in the back of the head again.]
RM: OH COME ON!
AD: The man lost! Leave Christian some dignity.
[Chazz collapses to the mat and O’Connor begins stripping him of his t-shirt. He wraps the shirt around Chazz’s neck and pulls him up, choking him.]
RM: This is absolutely uncalled for! What kind of representative for Shootfire Wrestling is James O’Connor?
[O’Connor tosses Chazz back and forth like a ragdoll before throwing him to the ground. Garbage starts flying into the ring as O’Connor makes his exit.]
AD: Well, I imagine there is once again going to be a serious phone call between Kyle Hayden and SPW management over this. My colleague Rich Manning is down at ringside checking in on Christian Chazz. This was a regrettable move by all parties, in my opinion.
[Rich Manning kneels beside Christian Chazz as a pair of trainers make their way down to the ring.]
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
[The camera opens to the back, directly on the face of the woman who came out after Foster delivered, “The Hypothesis” to Leon Corella, her beautiful brown eyes are enhanced by glasses. As the camera pans away slowly, we see that she is wearing a black suit, her blonde hair comes down to her shoulders, and a clipboard is in her hand.]
[To her side stands, “The Question” Doug Foster who is wearing a yellow, “Your Questions Answered” shirt with yellow sweat pants. His arms are folded, and a devilish smirk is on his face. He seems quite pleased with actions. Whitmore turns to him slightly.]
Woman: That’s two down…I think our message has been sent to Marcus Davis and to everyone in the DCWL..
DF: Most definitely…
[The woman turns back towards the camera, the neutral look remaining on her face.]
Woman: My name is Cassandra Whitmore, Doug and I are apart of Kennedy And Associates, we represent Clyde Kennedy and his business endeavors. Doug contacted me after the SOW front office was afraid to have him face Marcus Davis, and sent him to another equally useless promotion to, “earn” his match against him…
[Cassandra smirks.]
CW: Now that we are here, and you have seen what Doug is capable of under my guidance, first destroying Mario Speedwagon, who hasn’t even been seen near the DCWL sense. Then putting Leon Corella out of his pathetic misery…
I’m not found of violence, but I’m pleased with the results.
[Foster’s grin grows wider.]
CW: Now we have a message for one DCWL Grand Champion, a quite fitting title for the political beliefs of Julian Beckson….
[Cassandra laughs a little at her symbolic reference.]
CW: At Drink Black Hole Brew…A suiting name…as the DCWL is a Black Hole for talent…You will select Corella’s opponent, I suggest you select Doug Foster. It will be the best choice you’ve made in a long time.
[Cassandra walks out of view, the camera turns directly to Foster.]
DF: The Question Of The Day Is…
[He pauses.]
Will You Make The Right Choice?
[Fade.]
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
[And zoom out to reveal that Kyle Hayden has just watched the same interview on the monitor. He pops a couple of pills and downs them with a glass of water.]
HAYDEN: Then my question to her would have to be, “do I come to your place of business and jump up and down on the end of the bed?”
ALLOY: Kyle, you gotta take a break, your ulcers are—
HAYDEN: I DO NOT NEED TO TAKE A BREAK! I need to go to check on Leon Corella, and then I need to make sure those pains in Christian Chazz’s arm are not worth worrying about! Here’s what you need to do.
[He thrusts a shotgun into his Deputy’s arms.]
HAYDEN: YOU, Kev, need to get Doug Foster and what’s-her-skank out of my Black Hole For Talent right now. Dead or alive. Although I think “dead” would solve the problem for good. And tell them that the next time Doug Foster comes within 100 miles of this league he had better be booked in the ring, or I won’t be responsible for your actions.
ALLOY: Kyle, listen to you. You need to take a mental health day. What say you take Show 8 off and let me and the Governor General handle things that week, and then you can come back recharged at “Ark of Triocalypse.”
[Hayden frowns.]
HAYDEN: Fine.
[He calms down notably, but he turns and faces his Deputy Commissioner.]
HAYDEN: But I want you to bring the snipers back.
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
RM: Well… as you heard just there, medical staff is evaluating Christian Chazz. He’s saying that his arm is numb and we’re keeping an eye on him. We mentioned before that Chazz has a pre-existing heart condition, so we’ll keep you updated on his condition on the DCWL blog soon.
AD: Absolutely. Thoughts and prayers, Chazz.
RM: We’re going to try and move on and be professional here. We learned tonight that this match is *not* for a shot at the Trios Championship, but you have to think that whoever wins this match between Horrorshow and the former champions The Annoyed Samoans will count huge in determining the rankings in the Trios division.
AD: No question. The Samoans have been here since day one and Horrorshow have been making some very strong showing, so this is a match that I think Unique Element will be keeping an eye on.
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
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WINNERS – Horrorshow (“Something Better” Wolf Masterson d. Ozzie Emshamo, Full Meal Deal, 27:01)
RM: Big win for the upstart trio!
AD: Man, those Samoans get winded easily, don’t they?
RM: [muttering] Careful with the blanket comments, Anthony. [normal voice] Horrorshow is undefeated as a trio and you have to think they are going to ascend to challenge for the straps very soon.
[Speak of the devil… Unique Element emerge from the back and stand at the midpoint on the ramp. Lindsey, Wilson and Gunderson are all in “Vision Quest” T-shirts, their Trios Championship belts around their waists. They applaud Eyre, Masterson and Pansac, who stare back from the ring.]
RM: A show of respect for once on this show. Unique Element acknowledging potential contenders to their throne.
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
RM: New talent arriving with every other show it seems. “Dark Angel” Josh Curtis is previously a cruiserweight champion and he’s one of the most versatile wrestlers in the world today. He’s going to be entered in to “Ark of Triocalypse.” We’re finding out more about this event, Anthony.
AD: That’s right, it’s going to be a one-night Trio tournament. Starting tomorrow the lottery to create teams of three from the DCWL singles roster will begin. Horrorshow are confirmed participants as are Unique Element. Spirit of Wrestling will be sending a team out to compete as will Shootfire Pro Wrestling. All teams will compete in a single-elimination tournament with the last Trio left standing to receive a Trios Championship title shot in January at “The Year We Make Contact.”
RM: And, of course, if it happens to BE the Trios Champions winning the event, they can select whomever they wish to face as their opponents. But that’s not the end of the tournament. In the final match of the night, the winning Trio will split up and face off in a three-way dance, with the winner receiving a blank contract. The winner of the Triocalypse Tournament will be able to book any one match in the DCWL they wish in the calendar year of 2010. Title match, 8-person tags, anything they wish.
AD: The stakes will be going through the roof at the end of 2009 in the DCWL, but right now the stakes are pretty high, aren’t they, Rich.
RM: That’s right, because it’s main event time and Bane will be making his first title defense against one of the sleeper successes of the DCWL. Will Max Turbo eke out a victory and end Julian Beckson’s Grand Championship reign before it even picks up steam? Let’s take it down to Buckley and find out!
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
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WINNER and STILL GRAND CHAMPION – Julian Beckson (Rahowa, 11:28)
AD: Oh, a crushing loss to Max Turbo. Bane is just too big and Turbo’s speed was dampened by how scary agile Bane can be when he wants.
[Beckson chuckles to himself, standing over the fallen Max Turbo. Match official Steve Francis retrieves the belt from the time keeper’s position and hands it Beckson. Boos shower the ring as Beckson lifts the belt overhead. He slowly turns to look into the eyes of everyone in attendance, defiant.]
RM: Julian Beckson is successful in his first Grand Championship defense!
AD: And tonight he sent a message to Leon Corella: he’s not going to back down and you’re going to have to him on his terms.
RM: Fans, thank you once again for joining us and thank you for watching “Death of a Ladies’ Man!” For Blaze Crimson, Hollywood Panzerotti, Dan Cl—
[The camera quickly shifts to the entry way, showing Maurice Thompson sprinting towards the ring, now in a blue collar shirt and some blue jeans. A large whip is in his hand. As he runs past the camera, a bottle of some sort of bottle bulges in his back pocket.]
RM: What’s this?
AD: What’s “the Native” doing here?
[Thompson slides in the ring, getting the black bull whip ready. He stomps on the mat to get Beckson’s attention. As he turns around Thompson whips Beckson straight down his face causing a loud snapping sound to go through the arena. Beckson drops straight to his stomach holding his face.]
RM: What is this?
AD: What has gotten in to Maurice Thompson?!
[Thompson raises the whip and bring it down with extreme force across Beckson’s back. A red lash appears where Beckson was hit.]
RM: Thompson whipping Bane like a dog!
AD: What is going on here? Why is no one stopping this?
[Maurice face is emotionless as he raises the whip again, he swings down with force causing another lash to come across Beckson’s back. Bane screams out in pain as he rolls over. The camera catches a glimpse of the red gash across Beckson’s forehead and nose.]
RM: We should have seen this coming. Thompson seemed far too calm when talking about Beckson.
AD: Kid, they’re just words! I don’t care what anyone says about Chelsea, this is going too far!
[The crowd cheers as Thompson kicks Beckson back to his stomach. He whips Beckson three consecutive times causing blood to drip from the wounds. Thompson pauses for a moment before whipping Beckson one more time across his lower back. Beckson screams out again once more.]
RM: Beckson is just helpless here now.
AD: I am… I am stunned by what Thompson is doing here. This is just atrocious.
[Thompson whips Beckson one more time causing another gash on his back, Thompson immediately leaps to the top turnbuckles and hits Beckson with the, Flight Of The Hidatsa to Beckson’s already damaged back.]
RM: Oh my god, what is he doing with that bottle…
[The camera zooms in on the bottle.]
AD: That’s rubbing alcohol!
RM: My god, is he serious?
[The crowd cheers as Thompson unscrews the top, stands over Beckson and slowly begins to pour the alcohol into his wound. Beckson screams out in pain as the pain has to be excruciating.]
RM: Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined anyone, much less Maurice Thompson capable of something like this.
[Maurice throws the bottle down as the last drop seeps into Beckson’s skin. Maurice spits on Beckson adding insult to injury, he turns his around and slowly walks across the ring knowing Beckson is in no shape to get up.]
AD: Oh… There’s going to be repercussions from management if Kyle Hayden’s mood earlier is any indication.
RM: Fans, we’re out of time, we’ll see you in Sioux Falls, South Dakota for “Drink Black Hole Brew!”
[Thompson steps out on the ring apron, he slowly turns around to look at Beckson who isn’t moving, covered in his own blood. The scene fades as Thompson continues to look at Beckson without a single drop of emotion in his eyes.]
[The horror of what is to happen dawns on our protagonists.]
[There is no escape now.]
“TROGDOOOOOOOOOOOR!!!”
“TROGDOOOOOOOOOOOR!!!”
[As Paul Doom wheezes his way down the aisle, our heroes’ lives flash before their eyes. Killa’s first vending machine bling purchase. Ert Williams’ failure to ever clear the first level in World 8 of Super Mario Brothers 3. Paul Doom has come to utterly and finally destroy them both. But then…]
[A third man joins their side: his hair unkempt, his beard a mess. But this is no ordinary man. This is a man who can make crushed ice and pearl onions last through to last call. This is Necro Bartender.]
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
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WINNERS – Killa 187, Ert Williams, Necro Bartender (Necro Bartender sticks his fingers down Paul Doom’s throat, 5:19)
ERT: Well that was easy enough.
ACE: Hey guys, I miss anything?
KILLA: Damn sure. I got a cheap alternative to more energy inefficient incandescent bulbs, homes! Yo, anyone got any ballast?
[Ert grabs the light tube from Killa and shatters it over his head.]
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
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~~~D~C~W~L~~~
[Cut to the inside of the arena in Thunder Bay. In the ring are B.A. Jive and Max Turbo. Over the tannoy is “Last Cup Of Sorrow” by Faith No More. Brian Irwin rolls into the ring.]
RM: Greetings, DCWL fans! Welcome to “Death of a Ladies’ Man!” I’m Rich Manning, and joining me once again is Christian Chazz.
CC: I’m just going to get this out of the way: Kyle Hayden’s obsession with the color teal is getting out of control.
RM: We are six weeks away from our next Supercard Extravaganza, and tonight we hope to find out more about the trios tournament at “Ark of Triocalypse.”
CC: And how about this for a main event: Bane will be defending the Grand Championship tonight against one of the four men in the ring.
RM: Three.
CC: What?
RM: There are only three people in the ring.
CC: Yeah, I know. What? Do you think I’m crazy or something? I can see the ring, Manning.
RM: Well, this is supposed to determine who’s going to be facing the Grand Champion tonight and it’s supposed to be a four-way match. There are only three people in the ring.
CC: Then where do you get off saying that there are four people in the ring?
RM: That’s what I’m asking!
CC: I dunno!
RM & CC: Third base!
'WHAT BUSINESS ARE YOU IN?'
[Their witty repartee is interrupted by “Shutterbuggin’” by Buck 65. Through the curtains lumbers Kevin “Killdozer” Alloy, DCWL Deputy Commissioner. He’s his usual self in ill-fitting business casual. He has a cast on one hand and a microphone in the other.]
ALLOY: Now, I know you all wanted to see Porno Anderson tonight.
[Crickets.]
ALLOY: But ever since Bane out and out called him “gay,” he’s been nigh unreachable. Apparently his only solace is… porn.
[Alloy shudders. Squick.]
ALLOY: But we advertised a four-way match, and we’re going to deliver. Commissioner Hayden pulled some strings with JDM Superstar and Shootfire Pro Wrestling and now we’ve got a replacement. So without further ado…
[A spotlight comes upon the entrance ramp and out from the back steps... Nathan Taylor!]
ALLOY: “The Mastodon” Nathan Taylor!
[Nathan Taylor is a huge motherfucker above all others, pound for pound one of the most dominating physical specimens and genetically gifted athletes the sport has ever seen. Wearing red and black trunks, black shinpads and red boots black hair cut shaved, and fine trimmed goatee. Taylor throws his arms up for the DCWL fans before he begins making his way down the aisle quickly, the fans reach out to touch the mammoth of a man but he doesn't mind, or try to touch the fans in return. His eyes are focused on the ring and once he gets to the apron he reaches up grabbing the middle rope with both hands and yanks himself up onto the apron.]
RM: Nathan Taylor finally appears in the DCWL!
CC: Hell, he might be the one guy who could go toe-to-toe with Beckson!
RM: What a shocker if “The Mastodon” manages a win here! What happens if he wins this match and then beats Beckson for the belt?
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
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WINNER – Max Turbo (d. Brian Irwin: Rolling Pin Fall, 14:25)
CC: Max Turbo out of f’ing nowhere! Someone call an exorcist, because this guy is possessed!
RM: You have to think Max Turbo was not the favourite going into this match, but he out and out wins the match, and now he will go on to face Julian Beckson in our main event tonight!
CC: Beckson’s gonna kill you… Beckson’s gonna kill you… Beckson’s gonna kill you…
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
[We open to the back, the lovely Blaze Crimson is standing beside, “The Native” Maurice Thompson. Maurice is in his wrestling attire plus a, “Vision Quest” shirt. His eyes still have the far off intensity that have been a norm since he heard the comments from Julian Beckson about his girlfriend, Chelsea.]
[Maurice agreed to have the DCWL cameras follow him around since, “Overdrawn At The Memory Bank.” We have seen Maurice party, train, compete in two matches, and develop a more intense side to his personality. It seems that those following have created a more personal attraction to the 18 year old from Bismark.
[Blaze? Well she doesn’t seem as angry as before.]
Blaze Maurice at, “Overdrawn At The Memory Bank” you impressed a lot of people by dominating Leon Corella, but you came up short and couldn’t get the victory. Then just last week we heard from Leon Corella during our War Of The Words taping, and he had some strong language for you. What do you have to say to your new rival?
[Thompson shakes his head, he looks at the camera an intense look in his eyes.]
Thompson: You want to compare me to your grandfather Lucius and tell me I couldn’t last in his little Lion’s Den? I had a lot of time in the past three weeks to do some research, not too much came up on your family. Yeah, they had some good victories and respectable careers, but much like yourself they could break into the upper levels of professional wrestling, they couldn’t cut it…
[Thompson pauses.]
You on the other hand have nothing of note to hang your hat on, other than your family. You..You…Leon Corella…hasn’t accomplished anything. You can’t even go a week without contradicting yourself.
Blaze: What do you mean?
[Maurice tilts his head back slightly.]
Thompson: “I make absolutely no excuses for my failings, Maurice.” Does that not sound familiar?
Blaze: Sounds like something Corella said on War Of The Words…
[Thompson nods his head.]
Thompson: It’s _EXACTLY_ what Corella said. Yet, he forgets how he kept calling my victory over him a fluke, that it shouldn’t have happened, that he was tired, that he defeated everyone else. It seemed like he spent quite some time pointing those facts out…
[He turns towards Blaze.]
Thompson: Am I right?
Blaze: You are…
Thompson: To me that sounds like he was making quite a bit of excuses. When he forgets to mention that I didn’t waste all of my energy, and had a strategy to actually _WIN_ the match. I hit the Natives Unite perfectly, dropped him on the back of his neck and got the three count…
Now look at our last match, Corella sounded like a politician the way he spun the match. Saying he let me dominate him and didn’t _Need_ his biggest moves to defeat me…
[Maurice smiles.]
Thompson: Corella, you and I both know I had you scouted so well that you couldn’t hit the Game Over. There were points in the match where you couldn’t do anything to me, and trust me I realized that.
[The camera zooms in on Thompson’s face, his eyes are intense and focused.]
Thompson: I’m not going to sit here and call your victory a fluke or anything else. I’m a bigger man than you are…I didn’t hit the Native’s Unite perfectly, I didn’t attempt enough pinfalls, I had bad ring placement, and I wasn’t in good enough shape. The only thing I will say is…
Maurice Thompson defeated Maurice Thompson, not Leon Corella…
[The camera zooms out a bit, still focused on Thompson who pauses.]
Thompson: Oh..and about my offense not doing any damage to you. Why did the doctors diagnose you with a slight concussion, and tell you to not wrestle until tonight? Why was there a cut over your left eye? How come every time I looked in your eyes, your eyes were begging me to stop?
I’ll give you credit Corella, you kept going, took advantage of my lack of stamina and got the victory. Not that it’s a victory your family would be proud of…but hey..not like you’ve done anything during your career ol’ Larson would be proud of.
[…DAMN…]
Blaze: Moving on to Beckson..
[Maurice jumps in.]
Thompson: No comment…
[Blaze looks surprised.]
Blaze: You have nothing to say about Beckson?
Thompson: No ma’am…Not at all…
[His body language shows Beckson is definitely on his mind, yet his choice to not direct any words towards him is surprising. Blaze looks caught off guard, but quickly collects herself.]
Blaze: …Moving on to tonight…You face Great Atma…Do you feel prepared for the match?
Thompson: Atma has no chance tonight…I will not fail…I will not be defeated.
[Blaze nods.]
Blaze: Thank you for your time, back to the guys out front.
[Fade.]
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
RM: Thank you Blaze.
CC: It’s amazing what a good hairstyle will do.
RM: Eh?
CC: Her bangs do a magnificent job of covering up her lobotomy scars.
RM: Will you STOP?!
[Harsh guitar chords, followed by a vaguely patriotic theme, blasting through the speakers! Red, white and blue lights flash in time as the voice of James Hetfield roars into the arena!]
"DON'T TREAD ON ME!
DON'T TREAD ON ME!!"
As Metallica's "Don't Tread On Me" continues, a tall, somewhat large man strides onto the entranceway. The crowd lashes out at the sight of the DCWL Ambassador! Wearing a three piece navy suit, a red, white and blue tie, navy khakis and shiny polished wingtips, looking ever the statesman with bright blue eyes and a black goatee, he displays his trademark wide, slimy grin as he strolls onto the stage]
"Liberty or death
What we so proudly hail
Once you provoke her
Rattling of her tail
Never begins it
Never but once engaged
Never surrenders
Showing the fangs of rage!
Don't tread on me!"
[Henry Spikes doesn't acknowledge the DCWL fans, instead gesturing behind him. From the back, a man and a woman step to either side of the former DCWL Commissioner.]
RM: That's James O'Connor! And Erica Toughill! Both back in the DCWL!
CC: Yeah, and both now working for the beast that is SPW. If they're coming out with Spikes, they're not DCWL anymore.
[The three walk down the ramp with confidence, largely ignoring the very hostile reception they're receiving in Thunder Bay. Henry gets onto the apron first, holding the ring ropes open for The Queen of Clubs to enter. The Cunning one follows after, with Spikes bringing up the rear. He walks over to Buckley Luck and asks for the house mic as the music fades out.]
RM: It'll be interesting to hear what they have to say. Spikes and O'Connor have been MIA since their hit job at Plunderland and we haven't seen Erica Toughill since 2008!
SPIKES: Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.
[BOOOOOOOO!]
SPIKES: You'll forgive me, of course, for not appearing at the last show in Bismarck. You see, after being appointed to the position of Ambassador to the DCWL, I realized that I needed some time to study the product. After all, we at Shootfire Pro have no wish to change anything that already meets our high standards of excellence.
[BULLSHIT! BULLSHIT! BULLSHIT!]
SPIKES: So far, it is clear that you have a few special competitors. Mister Beckson...
[BOOOOOOOOOOOO!]
SPIKES: ...while certainly controversial, is truly a powerhouse. Mister Corella has proven himself match in, match out as a figure to watch. And, of course, my good friend Mister Ford...
[Boo.]
SPIKES: ...continues to set the standard of what we should expect from our competitors. As for the rest, there is certainly potential. SPW developmental star Maurice Thompson being chief among them.
[Strong cheer for The Native!]
SPIKES: Those like Mister Thompson who are talented, yet still raw, would benefit from an example. An example of where hard work and focused use of natural talent can get you. I have brought two such examples with me today who will illustrate these points, as well as enlighten us all as to what the competitors here can look forward to. Ladies and gentlemen, I am proud to present two stars of SPW and DCWL alumnae... "Cunning" James O'Connor and Erica Toughill! Erica, ladies first...
[Spikes hands the microphone to Erica with a respectful bow. Toughill accepts the mic and addresses the audience.]
ERICA: You know, I owe a lot of who I am to the old “Demented Creations” Wrestling League. I can remember the days when I would leap in to the ring to tune of “Sandstorm” by Da Rude—I can hear it now in my head. And I remember when I was in love with wrestling and had so much enthusiasm for it. And I look at myself now. Bitter, miserable, hating the world.
[Some fans see where she’s going with this and start to boo. A few on the ball fans chant “You Screwed Jax.”]
ERICA: I remember getting my head kicked in night after night. That was the DCWL. I remember the abuse and torture at the hands of Tigress, and the entire league turned a blind eye. That was the DCWL. I remember when some executive told me I had to lose thirty pounds before I could appear on TV. That was the DCWL. I remember working my ass off for Curt Olsen just so I could win a match and show you lousy pieces of shit what I could accomplish, and I remember how you sat with your arms folded saying, “entertain me, bitch. Bleed for our pleasure, bitch.” And I think of how I’m bitter, miserable and hating the world and look at scars on my body and they spell the letters “DCWL.”
[Spikes puts his arm over her shoulder. O’Connor squeezes her hand. Toughill’s jaw tightens into a pronouncd snarl.]
ERICA: Oh sure, you hate me. You all always hated me. You always liked it when that ignorant ass of an ex-boyfriend did the talking for me—
[The “You Screwed Jax” chants begin picking up momentum again.]
RM: Obviously still some lingering bitterness between Erica Toughill and former DCW wrestler Jackson Hunter.
ERICA: Well, come and see what I’ve accomplished, DANGEROUS CHAMPIONSHIP WRESTLING LEAGUE. You got yourself a nice little Sirens division here. What are you gonna go when I take out your crown jewel Sierra Browne tonight, huh? Tell ‘em, James.
[She turns and hands the mic to O'Connor. O'Connor's showered with jeers from the moment he accepts the mic and is clearly taken aback.]
JOC: Before I begin, I'd like to address my actions at Plunderland 2009.
RM: He would?
CC: Oh sure he would. He's got backup with him and doesn't have to face any backlash with the so-called "Ambassador" standing there.
JOC: If I'm going to be the role model Henry wants me to be, I've got to play it straight with everyone. It's true, Marissa, Eddie and I attacked Kyle Hayden, Kevin Alloy and Jeffrey Marsh. You obviously don't like what happened, and that's something I've just got to live with. Do I regret what happened? No way in hell.
[BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!]
JOC: Why did I do it? In that ring was a man who has threatened my livelihood on several occasions, both here in the DCWL and in Shootfire Pro. He organized the invasion of SPW and, when defeated, could lay back comfortably in his cushy office job and shrug it off because HE was immune to punishment. And while every member of the Shootfire Army wanted his blood, he received safe haven from Kyle Hayden and Kevin Alloy. We found Marsh, thanks to the tip from Henry, and we punished those involved. Justice was served.
RM: I can't believe what I'm hearing out of this kid.
JOC: Now I'll admit, I initially had trouble with the idea that I'd be attacking DCWL management, the place where I got my start in this business. But then I remembered the summer of 2008. Most people will recall that's when the DCWL lost its TV deal. I remember it, though, for the biggest slap in the face that I've ever received.
CC: Oh God, what's he going to complain about now?
JOC: When Skye Ashner left the DCWL, he needed to be replaced as number one contender. Kyle Hayden, in his infinite wisdom, created a battle royal to be held in MY hometown of Wilmington, Delaware. Now was I top of the card then? No, of course not. But I had won my past few matches, gotten a little momentum, and hell it was in my hometown. I waited for my invitation, thinking that Hayden couldn't POSSIBLY mess up the homegrown talent makes good angle, but it never came. Still, I kept my head up, until I saw some of the other names who DID make it. A talentless garbage wrestling hack who got a start because of his mother? Some Japanese giant who had been around for a month? A man who gave up even trying to win matches for several months? Since when did these guys deserve a break over me? Since when...
[With no music or reaction other than the cheers of the fans, Kyle Hayden storms the ring. Lumbering behind him as fast as he can is his deputy commissioner Kevin Alloy. Hayden gets handed a microphone from Buckley Luck; he tells Alloy to back off.]
CC: Thank god. Kyle Hayden may be a lunatic, he may have been a Hawaiian shirted lech for most of his career, but when he lays down the law, look out below.
HAYDEN: I’ve had just about enough of this, alright. Listen, right now. You think JDM Superstar came down here just to mess with your head. Do, not, FLATTER yourself, James. Jeffery Marsh came to me because I extended an open invitation to any former DCWL competitor and that included you. And you did NOT show up, and JDM Superstar *did*. He didn’t come down here for some Machiavellian scheme for once or a tax dodge. He came down here because he felt a certain *loyalty* to the DCWL. Dammit, O’Connor, all he wanted was a shot the Grand Championship! How does that make him any different than you, James?
[He turns his attention to Erica Toughill.]
HAYDEN: How is that any different than you, Erica? You don’t think Jeffery Marsh wanted the Grand Championship like you? Like anyone else working in the DCWL? Is he a flawed human being? Yes. So am I. So are you. So is Henry. You think you’ve got it bad? I had to endure ten years of being Ratt Klyczofvski, the official toadie of Jackson Hunter.
[He frowns and looks at the threesome from SPW.]
HAYDEN: You are, after DCWL alums, and you are from Shootfire, and we are affiliates. And I am glad to be affiliated with the Shootfire family and I want to stay affiliated. But if you three think that these people out here, or these letters that we’re standing on somehow owe you something… kindly go back to Scott Starring and Iris Galliver and tell them that they are more welcome here than you.
[Erica Toughill and Kevin Alloy exchange sideways glances at each other. O'Connor looks livid, ready to go up against Hayden then and there. Spikes holds him back, politely asking for JOC's mic. When he gets it, he addresses his former deputy.]
SPIKES: Alright, Mister Hayden. If you're so sure that this company is better made in your image, perhaps we can arrange something. Now we don't want just anyone facing Mister O'Connor. Having some ringer who doesn't care about who runs the DCWL just proves us right. To make the point valid, it would have to be someone who has expressed their preference for your order here in the DCWL. Would you agree?
[Kyle thinks this over. He responds with hesitation.]
HAYDEN: Fair enough.
SPIKES: Now I noticed that most of the competitors here under your employ were rather mum about the whole incident at Plunderland. Given that, and given who's already under contract to compete tonight, I think that we should look to those who may not be strictly active as competitors, but could still hold their own in a ring. Would you agree with that as well?
[Hayden stares at Spikes.]
RM: I don't think I like where this is heading. Spikes is clearly going somewhere with this and Hayden doesn't trust him...
CC: ...for good reason...
RM: ...yet he's not saying anything! If he can refute the point...
HAYDEN: That also sounds fair enough.
SPIKES: Excellent. Then I think we have the perfect candidate in mind. He has been bar none your most vocal supporter and just so happens to have a very fine career on his resume. So...
[Shootfire's former GM pivots towards...the announce table?]
SPIKES: Mister Chazz?
RM: Uh oh, Christian?
[O'Connor gets a smirk on his face as Chazz stands at the announce table. He takes off his headset and gets a house mic.]
RM: Don't do it, Christian.
SPIKES: You've been so vocal these last few shows about your disdain for me and for Shootfire Pro in general. Would you care to back up those comments in the ring?
[The crowd cheers! Chazz raises the mic.]
CC: Come on, Spikes, you know I've been retired for a while now.
SPIKES: True, but you're hardly crippled. You look like you could still give half the roster here fits. And with the passion you exuded in deriding us, I'd hardly think you couldn't be motivated to compete here tonight.
HAYDEN: Look, I’ve known for Christian ever since I broke into this business. He retired because of a heart defect in 1999. I don’t think—
SPIKES: If you have a better option, Mister Hayden, I'd love to hear it. Just remember that whomever you choose should fit the criteria we mutually agreed upon earlier. Mister Alloy is unfit to compete. You're not a wrestler. Mister Chazz is the only one who has the talent to make a go of it in this ring and the loyalty needed to prove your point. So what do you say, Mister Chazz?
[CHRIS-TIAN CHAZZ! CHRIS-TIAN CHAZZ!]
CC: Well...
SPIKES: If you don't believe in the cause, of course, we all understand. Or maybe you're just not ready for the ring. Maybe we should go and find one of your old dresses to better suit your current state.
[OOOOOOOH!]
RM: He's just goading you, don't...
CC: YOU'RE ON!
[The crowd roars with approval. Hayden looks to his champion, who stares back at him from his position at the announce table. Spikes bows, then leads his charges out from the ring. As "Don't Tread On Me" kicks in again, we turn back to Rich. Chazz throws down his headset and marches to the back.]
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
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WINNER – Logan Braddock (Block Buster, 12:03)
RM: Impressive debut for Logan Braddock, who just decimated Alton West with solid fundamentals before finishing him off with that Block Buster.
[Braddock clears the ring and heads to the back. Suddenly Max Turbo comes swooping in, trying to revive the very woozy Alton West.]
RM: What is Max Turbo on about all of a sudden? He should be preparing for his match against Bane later tonight…
[Cut back to the announce position Christian Chazz has now been replaced by a younger man in a high-collared shirt, powder blue necktie and grey sport coat. He looks very much like the oft-rumored Anthony Didiano.]
RM: Well, we’re trying to keep things flowing as best we can, ladies and gentlemen. To recap what went down earlier tonight… basically we have a match between Shootfire Pro Wrestling’s James O’Connor and our own Christian Chazz, so filling in at the announcer’s booth is our old broadcast colleague Anthony Didiano.
AD: Rich, what… is… up?
RM: Anthony, before we get to our next match which will decide the Dangerous Championship, we have to talk at some point about Christian Chazz coming out of retirement tonight to face “Cunning” James O’Connor.
AD: I have to say I see James O’Connor’s point. He never got a break from the DCWL from the day he debuted to the night we shut down operations. And considering all the funding and exposure we’re getting from Shootfire Pro Wrestling, he should have kept SPW’s name out of his mouth. Chazz was a trained athlete. He had to know that this was coming.
RM: Well, I don’t agree with that assessment, but in any case, we also have an interpromotional match between Mike Anderson and “The Dream” Marcus Davis. Blaze Crimson has caught up with Anderson. Blaze, over to you!
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
[We fade to the backstage area where the lovely Blaze Crimson stands with Mike Anderson. The cocky youngster is decked out in his usual wrestling attire with a white towel draped around his neck. Anderson stares at the ceiling, cocky smirk on his face with his hands on his hips as Blaze speaks…]
BC: Thanks Rich. I’m standing here with Mike Anderson, who tonight will face SOW’s own ‘The Drea…
[Anderson interrupts Crimson]
MA: Whoa, whoa, whoa young lady. Just hold your tongue right there. I know what you were about to introduce Marcus Davis as, but lets just call him what he is- ‘Average’, ok sweetheart. The only thing ‘Dream’ about Marcus Davis is him thinking he has a chance in hell of beating me.
[Crimson silently counts to ten before she continues.]
BC: It is well documented that Marcus has fought some of the best in the world…
[Anderson chuckles and shakes his head.]
MA: And how many has he beat Blaze? How many REAL World titles has he put around his waist? How many LEGENDS has he defeated? NONE. Marcus Davis is a fraud young lady. A man who tonight will be put in his place.
BC: In his place? I.. I don’t understand.
MA: Of course you don’t because you are not a warrior like me. There’s a pecking order in DCWL, Blaze. There is a place where everyone should be. A spot where everyone knows their role. Marcus Davis role is at the bottom of the ladder. Tonight I destroy the hype that is Marcus Davis.
BC: Your making it sound like it’s going to be easy.
MA: That’s because it is going to be easy Blaze. I’ve watched this guy in action and he couldn’t hold a candle to my skills. He has never fought anybody like me. I just don’t beat people- I punish them. I make them wish they never stepped through the ropes and faced Mike Anderson. Tonight Marcus Davis is going to get what is coming to him.
BC: And that is?
MA: Ultimate punishment.
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
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WINNER – Maurice Thompson (Natives Unite, 14:41)
RM: Nice win for Thompson, and he’s back on track after a couple of tough losses following “Citation Needed.” I was sceptical when Atma starting throwing out those… “Shinning” Wizards, but Thompson’s pretty resilient for an athlete under twenty. I can see that extra training is paying off!
AD: Man, that Atma sure seemed winded coming down the aisle. You could have sworn he was just in a match against someone like Sledge!
[Suddenly, Hell March 1 blares over the loudspeakers and the crowd breaks into a frenzy amid a chorus of boos.]
AD: Uh-oh.
RM: Well, here comes one of the most controversial men to ever enter the ring, let alone hold the belt.
AD: One of the most? Only a reincarnated Adolf Hitler might hold a candle to this guy.
[Julian ‘Bane’ Beckson has stepped out onto the stage looking a little different than we are used too. Instead of wearing either his wrestling gear or standard sweat suit, he has come out wearing a nice button up white shirt and a pair of khaki pants, both items looking a little small for him. Much to the dismay of the audience, he has a mic in his hand and has started to make his way down to the ring.]
RM: It looks like Bane might have something to say here tonight before he has his match with Max Turbo.
AD: Should we let him do that? I’m not sure if the sponsors, if we have any left, would appreciate that.
RM: I don’t think there’s much we can do. He IS the champion after all.
[Beckson has made his way to the ring and is now standing in the center of it with his arm slightly cocked as if he is ready to bring the mic up to his lips. The boos and animosity of the crowd hasn’t died down, however, so it might make it difficult to hear Beckson if he does decide to speak. He decides to give it a shot and brings the mic up to his lips.]
Bane: If I could have your attention please…
[Really nothing bad about that, but it still causes the crowd to increase the volume and hatred behind their boos. Beckson sighs and drops the mic slightly, allowing the crowd to release their hostility and anger directed towards him. After this second wave of boos and jeers dies down ever so slightly, Beckson once more raises the mic to his lips.]
Bane: If you will allow me to say something…
[The crowd once again erupts into a heated frenzy towards the man standing in the middle of the ring. A few fans have decided to toss some wads of paper in the ring at Beckson, littering the ring with random pieces of trash.]
RM: I can’t really blame them for not wanting to hear what this man has to say. I don’t think I want to hear what Bane has to say.
[Beckson has begun to pace around the ring looking slightly distraught. He keeps shaking his head and mouthing the words “I can’t do this” as the crowd continues to berate him. At one point, Beckson makes his way over to the ropes and looks like he is actually going to leave.]
RM: The crowd is really getting to Bane tonight which is pretty out of character for him. When you say the things that Bane says, you have to expect hostility from most people and Bane usually blows off that hostility with a flick of the wrist.
[Beckson has one leg over the top rope when he stops and takes a deep breath. He slowly brings the leg back into the ring and makes his way back to the center. He is looking down at the mat waiting for a break in the animosity expressed by the live audience so that he might try to speak again. Once it quiets down some, Beckson once again tries to speak.]
Bane: I have come out here tonight to apologize.
[The jeering remains steady but not as hostile. Beckson has obviously caught the crowd’s attention.]
AD: Huh…
RM: I can honestly say that I wasn’t expecting that.
[Beckson continues.]
Bane: I have been asked by management to make a public apology for my words and actions in recent weeks. It seems that they think I might have offended and hurt some people in my interviews and promos and that is bad in whole for the company’s image. I would like for you to know that it was never my intention to hurt anyone with the things I say and believe…
[The boos are starting to make a comeback.]
Bane: …and that I am truly sorry if I caused any harm with my actions. I would like to extend a personal apology to some individuals as well. The first two people I would like to personally apologize too are…
[A look of disgust is crossing Beckson’s face. It is obvious that he isn’t exactly happy to be out here doing this and he struggles to get the rest of the line out.]
Bane: … Maurice Thompson and his girlfriend Cheryl. [Pop from the crowd at the mention of Thompson’s name.] I realize that Cheryl is in no way associated with the DCWL and therefore should not be the victim of personal attacks by myself or any other individual on the roster. I was wrong in making any sort of rude and/or sexual comments directed towards you and your relationship with your boyfriend. I realize that you will probably never forgive me, but I hope that you accept my apology in all of its sincerity.
[The crowd breaks out into louder boos, obviously not convinced with Beckson’s “sincerity”.]
Bane: The second person I would like to extend an apology too is the young ni… the young African-American boy, Jerome, who lives in the same apartment complex as I do. The young man is a big fan of mine and I have repeatedly ignored his requests for autographs in the past, which is something I should be proud to be giving out. Also, I might have accidentally [Beckson sneers ever so slightly] injured the young man’s mother when she was trying to obtain an autograph for her son and that is an action I am deeply regretting ever happening. In an effort to make amends, I would like to offer Jerome an autographed poster and simulation title belt and a brand new Bane t-shirt all free of charge. Management would also like for me to extend an invitation to Jerome to attend our very next show, Drink Black Hole Brew, with travel, food, and hotel expenses completely covered by the company and myself. Jerome will have the chance to hang out with many wrestlers backstage and obtain as many autographs from the various talent of the DCWL as he pleases. He will also get to see the backstage workings and what it takes to put on a DCWL show that our audience has grown to love. And finally, he will get an officially signed contract for one day and earn the salary of a DCWL wrestler for the evening. I really hope that Jerome’s mother will allow her son to take advantage of this opportunity and accept the gift and apologies of the DCWL and especially myself.
I would finally like to apologize to each of the four competitors that were qualifying to face me tonight. It would have been an honor to face any one of you in the ring and look forward to the opportunity to place my title on the line against any one of you.
Thank you.
[With that, Beckson drops the mic in the center of the ring and makes his way to the back.]
RM: I’m going to pretty much assume that it wasn’t Bane’s idea to come out here and do that himself.
AD: Yeah, I’d be willing to bet anything that both Hayden and Alloy put him up to that.
RM: Well, DCWL fans, we’ve already seen one Shootfire Pro star compete in a DCWL ring, and now we’re going to see a second. DCWL fans will remember the name Erica Toughill, who competed for us between 2004 and 2008 and now she’s returned to where she got her start, although from what we heard earlier tonight, she’s looking to crack some DCWL heads. Sierra Browne is undefeated in the Sirens division and she’s already secured a bye to compete for the Sirens Championship at “Drink Black Hole Brew” later this month.
AD: I was talking with Sierra Browne earlier tonight and she says she has some unfinished business with the Queen of Clubs. This could be her toughest match yet.
RM: Let’s throw it down to Buckley Luck for the match announcements. Buckley!
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
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WINNER – Sierra Browne (The Truth superkick, 19:40)
RM: And you can put another check in the ‘win’ column for “The Show!”
AD: Hey, Erica loses in the DCWL. Must feel like old times for her, huh?
RM: Sierra Browne proves that she plays second-fiddle to no one, and you can bet she’s going to be bringing the same attitude to “Drink Black Hole Brew,” when she competes for the Sirens Championship.
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
[The scene opens to the outstanding(yeah right) investigative journalist, Dan Clear. He is standing beside, “The Dream” Marcus Davis the owner of SOW, NJWF, and SPW competitor. He is already in his attire, a laid back look over his face as he has a smile on his face. Davis is extremely muscular, and looks to be in great shape.]
[Clear seems absolutely giddy that he finally has a story to bring to the people, suddenly we hear Britney Spears’, “Hit Me Baby One More Time” go off. Davis looks over at clear with a look of confusion on his face. Clear continue looking forward with his, “I’ve got a big story” look until Davis clears his throat. Clear dejectedly pulls a cell phone out of his pocket. Davis shakes his head.]
Clear: ….It’s my mom….
[Davis takes the microphone away from Clear, and makes a, “brush off” hand motion. Clear walks off with his head down and we hear in the distance…]
Clear: Mom! You made me lose a story!
[Davis turns back towards the camera after laughing for a moment.]
Davis: Now that is out of the way…It looks like tonight here in Thunder Bay…Mr. Mike Anderson believes he is going to make an example out of me. He thinks I’m here to shove SOW down the DCWL’s throat…
[Davis raises his right index finger and makes the, “No..No” motion made famous by Mount Mutumbo.]
Davis: He’s wrong on both counts, nobody makes an example out of me. Especially, a little snot nosed punk that already thinks he’s a legend. I’m going to let everyone here in on a little secret…Come closer…
[The camera man steps a little closer.]
Davis: A little closer…
[The camera man gets right up in Davis’ face causing the picture to look distorted.]
Davis: Woah..Woah…A little too close!
[He backs up a few steps.]
Davis: Perfect…Now back to Mike Anderson, tonight you’re going to have the biggest wake up call in your career. You will learn that you have a long way to go to reach the level of even uttering the word, “legend.” You’re not even at the top of the list for Rookie Of The Year in DCWL, and you feel that you are already a legend.
[Davis shakes his head.]
Davis: Wow…I’m not sure whose more delusional you or Joshua Curtis…I’m not going to guarantee victory Mike, I’m not going to say I’m going to go out there and beat you up, or that I’m going to make your moma feel the ass whipin’ I’m about to lay on you. The only thing I will say, is that I am going to make you realize that…
[Marcus lowers his voice as he begins motioning his right index finger at the camera.]
Davis: _I_ am someone that you need to respect. That is something someone in your shoes needs to realize, understand, and embrace…
RE-SPE-CT…
Davis: You could go a long way with understanding how to respect those that have been around longer than you,. But, that’s your mistake. I just hope you’re ready my friend, you _BETTER_ be ready.
[The scene fades as Marcus walks out of camera shot.]
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
[We cut backstage to Julian Beckson who is WALKING. As he rounds the corner, he plows over some poor soul who happened to be in his way. After a few steps...]
VOICE: Bane!
[Beckson stops, clearly against his better judgment, as we see the man he knocked over rush to the shot and smooth out his hair.]
BANE: You’re interrupting my time I should be using to get ready for my match tonight. This better be good or you’re a dead man.
[Paying no heed to this otherwise dire warning...is DCWL reporter Dan Clear. More than anything, he seems excited.]
CLEAR: I'm here with DCWL Champion Julian "Bane" Beckson. Bane, how do you feel about how you've been treated here by DCWL management?
[Bane instantly looks suspicious, but doesn't answer.]
CLEAR: Does it bother you that Kyle Hayden and Kevin Alloy are working, even now, to take that title away from you?
BANE: What is this about? Who sent you here?
CLEAR: My crack research has led me to find out that plans are in motion to screw you out of that title, Bane. As DCWL's lead investigative reporter, it's my job to get the TRUTH to the masses.
[Bane turns and walks away. Dan follows after.]
CLEAR: They wants to impress their liberal friends by putting the title on Thompson or Max Turbo at the earliest possible time. Doesn't any of that bother you?
[Bane turns, angry.]
BANE: Does it bother me? DOES IT BOTHER ME?!? Well of course it would… wait. Didn’t you see the apology I had to issue earlier tonight? I have to watch what I say and who I say it to. Are you trying to get me in trouble and fired?
CLEAR: No, not at all. In fact, I've ALSO found out that there are people who don't really care about the political beliefs of their employees, just about their talent. Your employment here would be assured.
[Bane is taken aback by the statement.]
BANE: Who are these people?
CLEAR: Someone who believes that talent should win over political correctness. Someone who thinks Kyle Hayden's bitten off more than he can chew running this company and is letting his liberal thinking cloud his judgment.
[Beckson looks at Clear, then looks at the camera, then back at Clear.]
BANE: Well, whoever these “people” are, they at least have their heads on their shoulders. Just because I may not be the most popular guy outside of the ring because… of some of my personal views… my talent should speak for itself in the ring. The leftist community seems to think that it shouldn’t be based on the work that you do and instead on the things that you say. I’m sure that some of the people in charge of this company might be thinking slightly along the wrong lines of this. They’re much too worried about my beliefs and words and not about my work.
CLEAR: Yeah, personally I don't trust anyone who so obviously worships that Obama guy. I mean, with all that socialism he's doing, he's nothing but a Communist!
BANE: You have that one right.
CLEAR: He's so TERRIBLE for this country it's obscene!
[Bane nods. Dan looks emboldened.]
CLEAR: I mean, that guy is the worst. He's just as bad as Hitler!
BANE: What did you just say?
CLEAR: Yeah, I'm surprised his followers aren't already going Seig HRRRKGHGHG
[Bane has grabbed Dan Clear by the throat and lifts him 3 feet off the ground with Clear’s back pinned against the wall. Bane begins to scream and berate Clear.]
BANE: HOW DARE YOU!! Fuhrer Hitler led his country and his people to live up to their full potential while Obama is leading this country straight down the toilet. If you learned any political history in your life, you would see how VASTLY different the two are from each other and that Obama will never and can never hold a flame to Fuhrer Hitler. If we were ever graced with the even the slightest possibility to be led by a man as truly inspiring as Hitler, we would be fools not to take it. The Fuhrer would unlock this country’s vast and limitless potential instead of it being the garbage heap for the rest of the world.
[Bane turns and looks at the camera and then back at Dan Clear.]
Bane: Shit! Now look at what you made me do!
[With that, Bane flips Dan Clear over his head in almost an overhead chokeslam motion and slams Clear right through a table covered in the local catering that was provided for the crew. The table shatters into splinters and Clear is covered in the local cuisine of the area. As Clear tries to get up slowly, Bane kicks him in the ribs hard just for good measure before he walks off camera.]
CLEAR: *cough* Back to you, Rich. Owwww…
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
RM: Uh… Thanks, Dan. Insightful as always. Moving on… Mario Speedwagon surrendered the Dangerous Championship belt to management a couple of weeks ago, and now we have a match to name a new champion. American Freebear, who is rapidly gaining a huge cult following in the DCWL will take on the first Dangerous Champion, Derrick L. Ford.
AD: Everyone is talking about Freebear’s advantage in strength, brawling, even agility and how it’s going to carry him to the belt. I hate to be the guy to go contrarian, but Derrick L. Ford finds ways to win. Two-time champion.
RM: Well we saw some heated words exchanged between these two on “War of the Words,” but the mission of the DCWL is to settle it in the ring. So let’s do just that and hand it over to Buckley Luck.
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WINNER and NEW DANGEROUS CHAMPION – Derrick L. Ford (x2) (Hansen Lariat, 13:42)
RM: New champion! Derrick Ford repeats history!
AD: Damn, Ford and Freebear just throwing bombs at each other.
[Ford grabs the belt from Buckley Luck’s table and rolls back into the ring as “Fuel” continues to play over the loudspeakers. Freebear rolls to the ropes and sits himself up.]
RM: Derrick Ford and American Freebear very much set the tone of this match as being a battle of two opposites, and it looks like the rich kid beat out the good old boy, at least for tonight.
[Ford, however, can’t help but take the opportunity to not leave well enough alone. He holds out the belt in front of Freebear’s face, verbally berating him with a big, cruel grin. Freebear is unimpressed as Ford shoves the belt in his face before snatching it away. The new champion continues his trash talk just long enough, and then decides to punctuate it with a smack across Freebear’s face!]
AD: Hey!
[“Fuel” cuts out and crowd goes berserk as Freebear swipes his open palm over the torso of Derrick Ford. Ford doubles over and tries to stumble away, his eyes big as dinner plates and the breath knocked out of him.]
RM: American Freebear has heard enough and that slap from our classless Dangerous Champion was enough to send him over the edge.
[Derrick Ford can’t get away fast enough and he walks straight into another Bear Claw from the Freebear!]
“FREEEE- BEAR!” “FREEEE- BEAR!”
“FREEEE- BEAR!” “FREEEE- BEAR!”
“FREEEE- BEAR!” “FREEEE- BEAR!”
[Ford crumples to the mat and Freebear crosses to the nearest corner. He points upward and his Canadian neighbors roar in approval. American Freeebear begins to mount the turnbuckles.]
RM: He’s going up! This is a 300+ pounder climbing the ropes!
[Freebear climbs to the top rope and dives backward with a Moonsault splash that sends the Thunder Bay crowd into thunderous cheering.]
RM: OH MY GOODNESS! BEAR FORCE ONE ON THE NEW DANGEROUS CHAMPION!
AD: I understand being a little incensed, but time and place, Freebear!
[Freebear picks up the Dangerous Championship belt and holds it overhead. A pair of referees emerge to restore order, and Freebear lowers the belt, draping it on the chest of the prone Derrick Ford before making his exit and heading back up the ramp to the back.]
RM: Well, you have to think that these two are going to meet up again in the near future. And right now, ladies and gentlemen, it’s intermission time, and that means it’s time for Hollywood Panzerotti!
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
[The Camera beeps softly to life upon none other than DCWL's Hollywood Panzerotti, decked out in a yellow zebra-skin pimp suit that would be considered too garish for Halloween. We find him seated on plush chaise-longue and in stark contrast to the man directly across from him. Sporting a dark brown leather coat, khaki slacks, brown leather loafers, a black silk shirt, and the always present diamond studded platinum Rolex, is Leon Corella in a matching chair of his own. He had his calf propped over one knee, and his hands clasped as he looked to the man who would be interviewing him.]
Hollywood- Welcome one and all to Hollywood Panzerotti's Cheap Talk. Yes it's cheap, but I get paid, so who cares. Let's move forward! Here I have the one man who has gone out of his way to avoid backstage interviews. First there was that Sexpot, Blaze...
[...HP curled one hand into a fist, raised it high, and then smashed it down into an open palm...]
...SPLAT... Crash and Burn on that one... Then there was Dan Clear, who damn near got mugged because he's a horse's ass and doesn't have the talent of Ol' Panzerotti!...
Corella- ...More like persistence...
[...Panzerotti shot Corella a big grin...]
Hollywood- That too!
[...and Corella shot him a flat stare...]
Corella- ...Start asking questions. Maybe if I see one of these damned things to the end, you people will stop hounding me for answers to questions that don't even matter.
[...with a nod, and a clearing of the throat, HP fires off his first question...]
Hollywood- *AH-AH-HEMMM* So, Leo, do you mind if I call you Leo?
[...Corella raised a hand to protest, but Panzerotti continued anyway's, gathering a clip board from off camera and giving it a cursory glance over...]
Hollywood- ...anyway's, Leo... it says here you're from Providence, Rhode Island, but that's not where you came from originally...
[...Leon shook his head...]
Corella- No, I was born in New Orleans, Louisiana.
Hollywood- I take it you're a big fan of Crawfish and Gumbo then, with a little ONYON and a lil' mooooo WWWWIIIINNNEEE...eh?
[...Corella shoots him a quick scowl and Hollywood chuckles nervously, backing into his seat with visible discomfort...]
Hollywood-...meh heh heh... So, Leo... why don't you have an accent?
Corella- I was born there, but not raised. We moved to Maine a year after I was born, and once I was out of preschool and kindergarten, it was private schools all the way.
[...Hollywood looks down the sheet once again, then back to Corella...]
Hollywood- Speaking of education, it also says on here that you also went to Harvard.
[...Corella gave another nod...]
Corella- Yes, I spent 4 years getting a Bachelor's degree in Business and Finance. It's one of the key reason's I haven't squandered the family fortune away. Wise investments and good business practices have kept me out of the poor house and well funded enough to pretty much follow my passion for wrestling in general.
[...HP smirks and mutters softly...]
Hollywood- ...Lucky Monkey Humper....
[...Corella's brow arches...]
Corella- Excuse me...?
Hollywood- Nothing, nothing... So with all that schooling going on, how exactly did you find time for wrestling? It says here also that you have been wrestling at a college level since the age of 19, and began wrestling professionally at 23.
[...Letting it slide, Corella's expression relaxes...]
Corella- Let's just say, for many years I didn't have much of a personal life. It was pretty much devoted to learning the tricks of the trade, and honing my natural gifts, the skills instilled by my father and grand father, and doing whatever it took to become the absolute best at what I do.
Hollywood- ...But there was a time in your life when you were not at the level you are now... In fact, in the 1999 edition of the Wrestling Inquirer, it was stated that "Leon Corella has all the potential in the world, but absolutely zero personality." What a sick burn...
[...Corella's features darken a bit, his eyes averting to the camera...]
Corella- ...Harsh, yes... but it didn't kill me. It only made me that much stronger.
Hollywood- ...Then there is your career. A sad tale of mistakes, hardship, and disappointment. If they wrote a book about your career, it would be labeled a Greek tragedy.
[...His eyes whipped back to HP. Leon's nostrils flared, brow furrowed, jaw set, and face redden in an instant reaction. At any moment, Corella made the impression that he could leap from that chair and rip Hollywood's head off! Hollywood quickly threw his hands up defensively...]
Hollywood- ...I'm just saying, man... You've had a rough run! That's all! No need to get violent!
[...He leans back in the chair, taking in several deep breaths to try and reign in that terrible temper...]
Hollywood- Seems I hit a nerve there...
Corella- There is a reason I don't like doing interviews. It always goes back to my career. Am I aware that my career is a joke? Yes. Yes I am. My career went to shit because of two things. Early on, I was very naive to the business. My father died before he could teach me about the business side of wrestling, and my grand father came from a much different era than the one we have today. I had no guide to show me the light, just a set of skills and the know-how to use them. As for the second killer of my career, I am a lousy backstage politician. I'm not here to have smoke blown up my ass, nor am I here to kiss someone else's.
[...Corella unprops that leg and leans forward...]
Corella- Unfortunately, I made the mistake of thinking it was the fan's fault, and began to take it out on them. It made for great drama, but not for a great fan base. Slap on a healthy dose of an ever growing ego to match that building frustration, and you have a ticking time bomb just waiting to explode, and explode I did. Many times as a matter of fact. I regret every miscalculated step I made, but now I'm back to rectify my mistakes. Does that answer any questions about my career you might have?
[...Not sure exactly how to continue, Hollywood moves down his list and continues on...]
Hollywood- In your last outing, you faced The Native, Maurice Thompson. Now in your promo on War of the Worlds, you stated that you allowed Maurice to pretty much pummel you in the ring in an effort to show him that nothing he could do could put you down... is that true, or are you just trying to save face and cover your ass?
[...Corella's eyes widen slightly in shock, quickly followed by that angry scowl once again. Panzerotti gulps as a hint of terror marks itself across his features...]
Corella- ...If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to get your ass kicked, Panzerotti....
[...HP shakes his head in vehement denial...]
Hollywood- No sir! I just want what those other two bozos couldn't get! The full Story.
[...Corella smirks, deciding to humor the man...]
Corella- ...No, every word of it was true. You see it's all about breathing technique. If you know how to breath, you can pace yourself and outlast just about any man in the ring. Maurice blew up, basically. He didn't pace himself and just kept going and going...
[...Corella points to the mark that still resides on his forehead from being split open at Overdrawn...]
Corella- ....It wasn't without a price, however. He did do some damage...
[...He then drops the hand back down...]
Corella- Do you know what really infuriates me? If he had a little more seasoning, he would have won that match. What I did was a huge, irresponsible gamble.
[...It was Panzerotti who now had his eyebrow arched...]
Hollywood- Are you paying the kid a compliment? What about all that other stuff you said in the promo?
[...Corella smirked...]
Corella- Think of it as motivational speaking... He's a rookie, and a rookie doesn't need to be coddled. He needs to be shown the harsh reality that is our sport. People are going to bash you constantly from all directions. They will say anything to get a rise out of you, but the moment you let that happen, let the assholes get to you... that's it. You're done.
[...Raising a hand out in front of him, Leon made a quick flat line gesture...]
Corella- ...Because at that moment, your head is completely out of the game, and you spend more time thinking about what some asshole who doesn't even know you personally said, instead of the match at hand.
[...Looking into the camera, Corella points his finger to the lens as if to address Maurice...]
Corella- ...that is why you failed against Bane, and that is why you ultimately failed against me Thompson. You're so eager to prove yourself that you don't pace yourself and think it through, instead blowing up to the point where you can't even walk more than three feet without gasping for air.
[...Panzerotti, feeling that he had let the interview linger too long on one subject, finally asked his next question...]
Hollywood- Well, we already know your thoughts on Bane, as they have been well documented. Tonight, you've got a match with The Mad Cow. You do know the guy was state certified, right?
[...Corella smirked...]
Corella- You show me papers and a photo of Mad Cow in a straight jacket, and I'll consider humoring that notion. I think he's nothing more than a gimmick who preys upon the inept and unskilled utilizing whatever mind-fuck he can to get the upper hand and win.
[...HP shrugged his shoulders...]
Hollywood- What's your plan, Leo?
Corella- Simple, The crazier his strategy, the crazier mine will be. My greatest gift in the ring is the ability to adapt to any circumstance, and I am not taking the Cow lightly. He will be a difficult opponent, but not impossible, even in the slightest...
[...Nodding his head, HP moves to the closing segment...]
Hollywood- Well that's about all the time we have, anything you would like to say to your fans?
[...Corella looks to the camera, smirking...]
Corella- Anything I have to say to them, will be said in the ring....
[...With that, Corella rises from his chair and steps off camera...]
Hollywood- Well that's all for Talking Cheap with Hollywood Panzerotti. Back to you bitches at ringside!
[...Fade to Ringside...]
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
RM: Thanks, Hollywo—HEY!
AD: Still letting him pick on you, huh, Rich?
RM: Old habits die hard, Anthony. Well, fans, the next match is the first in what we hope will be a string of Spirit of Wrestling vs. Dangerous Championship Wrestling League matches. SOW founder Marcus Davis issued an open challenge to the DCWL at “Overdrawn at the Memory Bank” in Bismarck and within hours it was accepted by the DCWL’s Mike Anderson.
AD: If you’re not familiar with Marcus Davis, you should be. With “The Dream’s” repertoire of kicks and wild submission holds and Mike Anderson’s mastery of classic wrestling, this one should be a barnburner.
RM: Let’s throw it down to Buckley Luck!
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
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WINNER – Mike Anderson (Rolling Pin Fall, 14:25)
RM: ANDERSON IS STILL UNDEFEATED! Another win for the DCWL!
AD: Marcus Davis—it was like the rug got pulled out from under him. I think he made the critical mistake of underestimating Mike Anderson and he paid big.
[Anderson steps through the ropes and heads to the back, a maniacal grin on his face, watching Marcus Davis piece together what happened in the ring. “The Dream” leans on the top turnbuckle shaking his head. He salutes the fans and then makes his exit as the fans applaud his effort.]
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
[Cut backstage to furniture. Leather recliners, glass coffee table, etc. A large flatscreen TV is mounted on the wall. In the recliners are Offramp Alebua and Gabrielle RioPaah. Offramp has a large universal remote in his large, universal hand. To one side sits Moses Pupulolo. He is in a wheelchair with a blanket over his legs and a cast on his ankle. There are very prominent bags under his eyes. On the floor roughly eighteen inches from the screen sits Ozzie Emshamo, fixated to whatever is on the television at the time. Offramp fiddles with the remote and reads out the show description. Gabby RioPaah is unimpressed.]
OFFRAMP: …Channel 26 is the D-List celebrity poker channel. I think I was on that. I can’t remember.
GABRIELLE: Look, just put it on the Biography Channel.
[She reaches for the remote, but Offramp pulls it away.]
OFFRAMP: Ah, ah, ah. Patience, patience. On Channel 27 is Part Seven of a twelve-part miniseries set against war-torn Pomona starring… ooh, Lorenzo Lamos! You like him, don’t you, Gabby?
GABRIELLE: No, I like the Biography Channel.
OFFRAMP: …And then on Channel 28, they’ve got that thing where they break into your house and rearrange the furniture…
GABRIELLE: BIOGRAPHY CHANNEL! BIOGRAPHY CHANNEL! BIOGRAPHY CHANNEL! BIOGRAPHY CHANNEL! BIOGRAPHY CHANNEL! BIOGRAPHY CHANNEL! BIOGRAPHY CHANNEL! BIOGRAPHY CHANNEL!
[Suddenly Ozzie grabs the remote from Offramp’s hand. He changes the station to the Biography Channel and then smashes the remote in two over his own head before handing it back to Offramp.]
OFFRAMP: Awwww…
GABRIELLE: Thank you, Ozzie.
OZZIE: I like Crystal Pepsi.
[Ozzie sits back down a foot and a half away from the TV.]
VOICE: [on TV] “…but often would spend countless nights with hordes of groupies in various states of undress, sleeping in his own vomit…”
MOSES: You guys don’t believe me when I say that John Blackstock and Eric Quinney killed Shane “Stretcher” Preston and buried him in their yard.
[Offramp looks up from duct-taping the remote back together.]
OFFRAMP: Look, I like that you’re trying to piece together Shane Preston’s whereabouts, but we don’t even know that Complete Control even lives with each other.
MOSES: Well, we live together, don’t we?
GABRIELLE: Speaking of which, I’d like to make a simple request: no more pubes in the soap. It feels so unhygienic.
VOICE: For the last time, NO!
[Gabrielle. Offramp, and Moses turn to see what has interrupted them: Joe Pansac, Mina Eyre, and Wolf Masterson briskly walking, with Eyre turned towards somebody behind them. Offramp is still re-assembling the remote.]
EYRE: Didn't you hear what he said? We already have three!
[Into the frame steps the massive gingerheaded Caleb Brantseg. His face hangs sadly, turning his eyes towards the agitated Eyre.]
BRANTSEG: But I keep telling you I fit the gimmick! I mean, come on, they implied I was a serial killer!
WOLF: Dude, we're about great wrestlers stuck with crappy horror gimmicks, not awful plodding big men who waste an awesome angle.
[Caleb tries to defend himself, but a voice rings out from the hallway.]
CLEAR: CALEB! GET OUT HERE AND HELP ME WITH MY BAGS!
[Brantseg sighs.]
BRANTSEG: SORRY, UNCLE DAN!
[He turns back to Horror Show.]
BRANTSEG: We'll catch up later, alright?
CLEAR: AND THEN YOU CAN HELP ME GET THIS CHEESE PLATTER OUT OF MY...
[Thankfully Dan Clear becomes inaudible. Off goes Brantseg, much to the relief of all three. Mina rolls her eyes.]
GABRIELLE: OY!
[For the first time, the two teams lock eyes.]
GABRIELLE: You're blocking my view, Bloodrayne!
[Wolf looks confused.]
WOLF: Why are you guys sitting around here watching TV?
MOSES: Ooh, listen to Mister Stripey-Tights. Typical hegemonic behavior, you know. You probably think we sit around and just watch the ocean and eat coconuts all day. Well we happen to enjoy all forms of culture and entertainment, Mr. Wolfmother.
WOLF: I was only saying that...
MOSES: Oh, here we go. Have to explain everything to the dirty savages twice. Oh, "muga-buga ooga-booga. the only ones who understand me are my shrunken heads in my collection in my grass hut." You didn't see me carrying the Trios belt around in my teeth did you? Why I have half a mind to show you my masters in linguistics from MIT... If... I weren't in this wheelchair and the Biography of Valerie Bertinelli wasn't on right after this.
PANSAC: Oh, come on, lay off the guy. And besides, you're not the only ones who get stereotyped around here. How many times do I have to shed my own blood...and others, I guess...before I can finally be taken seriously? I'm the friggin Deadman, not an extra from a George Romero movie! Do you guys realize how hard it is to establish a career while purposefully limiting mobility?
[Joe looks around. They seem to have no response for this.]
PANSAC: Or dumping a bag of flour on yourself?
[Again, no response. The Deadman continues with more confidence.]
PANSAC: And, seriously, I'm tired of yelling "BRRRAAAAIIIINNNNNNSSSS" at the top of my lungs every thirty seconds. I'd LOVE to see any of you guys cut a promo while only using the same two or three words over and over again.
OZZIE [without looking up]: Spaghetti.
PANSAC: YOU'RE NOT HELPING!
GABRIELLE: Flippin' Nora. Shut up moanin'. You're just jealous of me because I exude femininity while you and the rest of the Sirens are all busy dolling yourselves up for those poncey patriarchal audience members.
EYRE: Oh, whatever bitch. Try taking a fall with fake Vampire teeth, worrying about biting your tongue every time someone tries to suplex you. Sure the blood makes for a cool effect, but they make capsules if I wanted to be intimidating. And don't get me started on being surrounded by macho men with a blood-sucker gimmick. I either get jokes about their ex-wives or telling me what else I can suck. That's sexual harrassment, damnit!
[Offramp finally stops fiddling with the remote and admits defeat.]
OFFRAMP: Oh, I could only *dream* of sexual harassment. Most people assume we just club them and drag them back to the village and then go out and get white woman poon. I don't know about you, but it tough to project manliness and sensitivity while cooking and eating your enemies. I mean, how hard is it for a single gentleman from the Samoa Islands to find the right small group of girls? All I'm looking for is nine or ten women to settle down with.
WOLF: At least the ladies go for you exotic types. All that damn spirit gum...some of it takes AGES to get off. And what happens when you forget a spot? I'd be mackin on some chick on the dance floor when she'd ask why a small rodent was living on the back of my neck. It's EMBARRASSING, I tell ya!
OFFRAMP: At least we look like our gimmicks. Shouldn't you look more like a wolf?
WOLF: I'LL KILL YOU!
[Wolf lunges at Offramp. The other five are quickly embroiled in the melee, with the two trios in a full pull apart brawl. Pansac and Offramp begin hurling small items at each other, while Wolf Masterson hangs down Offramp's back. Mine Eyre and Gabby RioPaah are having a grand old time wrapping their hands around each other's throat. Moses does his best to lend moral support.]
MOSES: Hey! Watch the ankle, guys! OW!
[Only Ozzie, still engrossed in the Biography Channel, seems above the fray. Suddenly, everyone stops, frozen in mid-brawl like ice water ran down their spine.]
VOICE: What... the HELL...
[Kyle Hayden.]
HAYDEN: ...are you doing in here?!
[The Annoyed Samoans and Horrorshow have a long look at each other. Then they all speak at once.]
MOSES: They started it!
WOLF: Did not!
GABRIELLE: Did too!
HAYDEN: HOLD IT!
[Silence again.]
HAYDEN: I was going to give the winner of your match a shot at the Trios Championship at the next show. But until I can trust you guys to stay out of the VIP suite for our new Governor General, I guess I'm going to have to give that title shot to Da Ace Killas.
THE ANNOYED SAMOANS: [in unison] AWWWW!
HAYDEN: Now you trios run along and have your match. And think about what you did.
[They file out. Mutterings of "jerk" can be heard.]
HAYDEN: You too, Ozzie.
OZZIE: Tough love.
HAYDEN: Yes, I know.
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
RM: Wait… What? Governor General?
AD: I don’t know… Kyle Hayden setting up a VIP room *not* for Henry Spikes or Marcus Davis? Something is going down here.
RM: And did I hear right? Are Unique Element now suddenly going to be facing Killa 187 and Ert Williams for the Trios Championship?
AD: Even with Necro Bartender their only ally is luck. I don’t think Gunderson, Lindsay and Wilson are going be losing any sleep in the next 21 days.
RM: Still, Da Ace Killas have racked up championships. Lots of them, surprisingly… In any case, speaking of championships, Leon Corella has earned himself a shot at the DCWL Grand Championship in six weeks at “Ark of Triocalypse,” but up next he faces literally his biggest opponent yet. Mad Cow burst onto the scene back at “Overdrawn at the Memory Bank” when he totalled Alt—The Great Atma.
AD: Leon Corella is no Great Atma, though, and I think he proved it when he first debuted if you follow me. Mad Cow is all manic energy, but Leon Corella has so many weapons in his arsenal. If he can stop Mad Cow, then I think the match is his.
RM: Let’s take you to the ring, fans!
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
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WINNER – Mad Cow (UDDER Disaster, 12:33)
RM: MAD COW WINS! OH MY GOODNESS!
AD: That’s got to be the biggest upset I’ve ever seen!
RM: Look at Corella! The look on his face says it all! He can’t believe it!
AD: I’m looking at him now and I can’t believe it! He tried to kick out, but there’s no way you’re kicking out when a near 400 pounder comes crashing down on your chest.
[The Mad Cow poses to the approval of the crowd. Corella looks at Mad Cow and looks back out to the crowd in disbelief. He chuckles bitterly to himself, then turns to face his opponent.]
RM: Oh, what’s Leon Corella got in mind here?
AD: He’s a fiercely proud man and I don’t know what’s going through his mind.
[Just as Corella looks like he’s about to make his move, a steel folding chair plunges into the back of his leg!]
RM: HEY!
[The owner of the chair is in a yellow shirt with a large question mark on the front.]
RM: DOUG FOSTER! Not again!
AD: Last time he was here, he took out Mario Speedwagon! Now he’s hunting for big game!
[Corella crumples to the mat. Before Mad Cow can react, Foster swings the chair overhead onto Mad Cow’s head.]
*CRRR-ACK*
[Mad Cow remains upright however, just wobbling. A second overhead chair shot, however, drops the Bizarre Bovine with a force that shakes the entire ring!]
RM: “The Question” attacking anything that moves!
AD: No one can stop him! I wouldn’t want to get near the crazy man swinging a chair.
[Leon Corella gets to one knee, snarling like a wild animal at Foster, but before he can react, Foster kicks him in the abdomen and hoists him up…]
RM: No! No!
[…Dropping him onto the chair with a spinning piledriver!]
RM: OH MY GOODNESS!
AD: HYPOTHESIS ONTO A STEEL CHAIR!
[Corella lands flat on his back, knocked out. The DCWL faithful are rabidly unhappy with Foster. Foster just coldly exits the ring and starts heading to the back, where the camera catches him met by a young woman in a black business suit clapping her hands.]
RM: My god, what is the reason for all this?
AD: Just savagery from Doug Foster. For it’s own sake.
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
[Cut backstage to Blaze Crimson, who is with her colleague Christian Chazz. Chazz has switched to track pants and a black t-shirt with the teal DCWL logo across the front. Blaze is not interviewing Chazz like any other wrestler. The tone in her vice indicates she is talking to a friend.]
BC: Well, Chazz, you accepted the challenge of “Cunning” James O’Connor on behalf of the entire DCWL. It’s been ten years since you last stepped foot in the ring. Are you at all intimidated by the task at hand?
[Christian Chazz has changed from his color commentary persona to his wrestling persona of old.]
CC: Whoa-whoa-whoa, wait-wait-wait. First off… How am I looking?
[He lifts his hand to his face. It contains a pocket mirror.]
CC: I’m lookin’ niiiiiiice.
[He smooths his hair.]
CC: Oh, I tried to show James O’Connor the light. Didn’t I love James O’Connor back in the day? My own flesh I don’t love bettah! But when I tried to show him the light he just said “nooooooooo.” Now, James, there’s no need to live like a pig for the rest of your life.I’ve been waiting a decade for this moment to arrive and you just gave it to me, hot shot. All you’re going to do is walk straight into No Man’s Land, and you’re gonna tap your way right back out. So many people have the Cunning, James, but so few people are me, boy-o.
[Chazz exits, still looking into the mirror. Blaze watches his go, then sighs and looks directly into the camera.]
BC: Rich, Anthony. I don’t know if I can watch.
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
RM: Well, I know what you mean, Blaze. Christian Chazz definitely taking a risk here stepping into the ring with James O’Connor.
AD: Yeah, James O’Connor, when he first debuted didn’t look at home in the squared circle, and here we are three years removed from his first match and he’s the one of fastest rising stars in all of Shootfire Pro Wrestling.
RM: And let’s not mince words—he’s got a lot of ways to hurt you.
AD: And it’s like we’ve said, the wrestling of today is not the same as wrestling was in the 90s.
RM: Well, no point in belabouring it. Let’s just go to the ring.
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
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WINNER – James O’Connor (Rear Naked Choke, 15:09)
RM: Well… Not an unexpected result.
AD: Chazz has nothing to be ashamed of, but James O’Connor had too many weapons and Chazz’s conditioning can’t be 100% in any case.
[Chazz drops to his knees on the mat, anguish overtaking him as James O’Connor shadowboxes.]
RM: Just like Erica Toughill, James O’Connor has come a long way since he was last in the DCWL, I just wish—
[Rich Manning tails off as James O’Connor swats Chazz upside the head. Chazz barely reacts, his will to keep fighting sapped completely. Suddenly O’Connor punches him in the back of the head again.]
RM: OH COME ON!
AD: The man lost! Leave Christian some dignity.
[Chazz collapses to the mat and O’Connor begins stripping him of his t-shirt. He wraps the shirt around Chazz’s neck and pulls him up, choking him.]
RM: This is absolutely uncalled for! What kind of representative for Shootfire Wrestling is James O’Connor?
[O’Connor tosses Chazz back and forth like a ragdoll before throwing him to the ground. Garbage starts flying into the ring as O’Connor makes his exit.]
AD: Well, I imagine there is once again going to be a serious phone call between Kyle Hayden and SPW management over this. My colleague Rich Manning is down at ringside checking in on Christian Chazz. This was a regrettable move by all parties, in my opinion.
[Rich Manning kneels beside Christian Chazz as a pair of trainers make their way down to the ring.]
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
[The camera opens to the back, directly on the face of the woman who came out after Foster delivered, “The Hypothesis” to Leon Corella, her beautiful brown eyes are enhanced by glasses. As the camera pans away slowly, we see that she is wearing a black suit, her blonde hair comes down to her shoulders, and a clipboard is in her hand.]
[To her side stands, “The Question” Doug Foster who is wearing a yellow, “Your Questions Answered” shirt with yellow sweat pants. His arms are folded, and a devilish smirk is on his face. He seems quite pleased with actions. Whitmore turns to him slightly.]
Woman: That’s two down…I think our message has been sent to Marcus Davis and to everyone in the DCWL..
DF: Most definitely…
[The woman turns back towards the camera, the neutral look remaining on her face.]
Woman: My name is Cassandra Whitmore, Doug and I are apart of Kennedy And Associates, we represent Clyde Kennedy and his business endeavors. Doug contacted me after the SOW front office was afraid to have him face Marcus Davis, and sent him to another equally useless promotion to, “earn” his match against him…
[Cassandra smirks.]
CW: Now that we are here, and you have seen what Doug is capable of under my guidance, first destroying Mario Speedwagon, who hasn’t even been seen near the DCWL sense. Then putting Leon Corella out of his pathetic misery…
I’m not found of violence, but I’m pleased with the results.
[Foster’s grin grows wider.]
CW: Now we have a message for one DCWL Grand Champion, a quite fitting title for the political beliefs of Julian Beckson….
[Cassandra laughs a little at her symbolic reference.]
CW: At Drink Black Hole Brew…A suiting name…as the DCWL is a Black Hole for talent…You will select Corella’s opponent, I suggest you select Doug Foster. It will be the best choice you’ve made in a long time.
[Cassandra walks out of view, the camera turns directly to Foster.]
DF: The Question Of The Day Is…
[He pauses.]
Will You Make The Right Choice?
[Fade.]
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
[And zoom out to reveal that Kyle Hayden has just watched the same interview on the monitor. He pops a couple of pills and downs them with a glass of water.]
HAYDEN: Then my question to her would have to be, “do I come to your place of business and jump up and down on the end of the bed?”
ALLOY: Kyle, you gotta take a break, your ulcers are—
HAYDEN: I DO NOT NEED TO TAKE A BREAK! I need to go to check on Leon Corella, and then I need to make sure those pains in Christian Chazz’s arm are not worth worrying about! Here’s what you need to do.
[He thrusts a shotgun into his Deputy’s arms.]
HAYDEN: YOU, Kev, need to get Doug Foster and what’s-her-skank out of my Black Hole For Talent right now. Dead or alive. Although I think “dead” would solve the problem for good. And tell them that the next time Doug Foster comes within 100 miles of this league he had better be booked in the ring, or I won’t be responsible for your actions.
ALLOY: Kyle, listen to you. You need to take a mental health day. What say you take Show 8 off and let me and the Governor General handle things that week, and then you can come back recharged at “Ark of Triocalypse.”
[Hayden frowns.]
HAYDEN: Fine.
[He calms down notably, but he turns and faces his Deputy Commissioner.]
HAYDEN: But I want you to bring the snipers back.
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
RM: Well… as you heard just there, medical staff is evaluating Christian Chazz. He’s saying that his arm is numb and we’re keeping an eye on him. We mentioned before that Chazz has a pre-existing heart condition, so we’ll keep you updated on his condition on the DCWL blog soon.
AD: Absolutely. Thoughts and prayers, Chazz.
RM: We’re going to try and move on and be professional here. We learned tonight that this match is *not* for a shot at the Trios Championship, but you have to think that whoever wins this match between Horrorshow and the former champions The Annoyed Samoans will count huge in determining the rankings in the Trios division.
AD: No question. The Samoans have been here since day one and Horrorshow have been making some very strong showing, so this is a match that I think Unique Element will be keeping an eye on.
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
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WINNERS – Horrorshow (“Something Better” Wolf Masterson d. Ozzie Emshamo, Full Meal Deal, 27:01)
RM: Big win for the upstart trio!
AD: Man, those Samoans get winded easily, don’t they?
RM: [muttering] Careful with the blanket comments, Anthony. [normal voice] Horrorshow is undefeated as a trio and you have to think they are going to ascend to challenge for the straps very soon.
[Speak of the devil… Unique Element emerge from the back and stand at the midpoint on the ramp. Lindsey, Wilson and Gunderson are all in “Vision Quest” T-shirts, their Trios Championship belts around their waists. They applaud Eyre, Masterson and Pansac, who stare back from the ring.]
RM: A show of respect for once on this show. Unique Element acknowledging potential contenders to their throne.
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
RM: New talent arriving with every other show it seems. “Dark Angel” Josh Curtis is previously a cruiserweight champion and he’s one of the most versatile wrestlers in the world today. He’s going to be entered in to “Ark of Triocalypse.” We’re finding out more about this event, Anthony.
AD: That’s right, it’s going to be a one-night Trio tournament. Starting tomorrow the lottery to create teams of three from the DCWL singles roster will begin. Horrorshow are confirmed participants as are Unique Element. Spirit of Wrestling will be sending a team out to compete as will Shootfire Pro Wrestling. All teams will compete in a single-elimination tournament with the last Trio left standing to receive a Trios Championship title shot in January at “The Year We Make Contact.”
RM: And, of course, if it happens to BE the Trios Champions winning the event, they can select whomever they wish to face as their opponents. But that’s not the end of the tournament. In the final match of the night, the winning Trio will split up and face off in a three-way dance, with the winner receiving a blank contract. The winner of the Triocalypse Tournament will be able to book any one match in the DCWL they wish in the calendar year of 2010. Title match, 8-person tags, anything they wish.
AD: The stakes will be going through the roof at the end of 2009 in the DCWL, but right now the stakes are pretty high, aren’t they, Rich.
RM: That’s right, because it’s main event time and Bane will be making his first title defense against one of the sleeper successes of the DCWL. Will Max Turbo eke out a victory and end Julian Beckson’s Grand Championship reign before it even picks up steam? Let’s take it down to Buckley and find out!
~~~D~C~W~L~~~
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WINNER and STILL GRAND CHAMPION – Julian Beckson (Rahowa, 11:28)
AD: Oh, a crushing loss to Max Turbo. Bane is just too big and Turbo’s speed was dampened by how scary agile Bane can be when he wants.
[Beckson chuckles to himself, standing over the fallen Max Turbo. Match official Steve Francis retrieves the belt from the time keeper’s position and hands it Beckson. Boos shower the ring as Beckson lifts the belt overhead. He slowly turns to look into the eyes of everyone in attendance, defiant.]
RM: Julian Beckson is successful in his first Grand Championship defense!
AD: And tonight he sent a message to Leon Corella: he’s not going to back down and you’re going to have to him on his terms.
RM: Fans, thank you once again for joining us and thank you for watching “Death of a Ladies’ Man!” For Blaze Crimson, Hollywood Panzerotti, Dan Cl—
[The camera quickly shifts to the entry way, showing Maurice Thompson sprinting towards the ring, now in a blue collar shirt and some blue jeans. A large whip is in his hand. As he runs past the camera, a bottle of some sort of bottle bulges in his back pocket.]
RM: What’s this?
AD: What’s “the Native” doing here?
[Thompson slides in the ring, getting the black bull whip ready. He stomps on the mat to get Beckson’s attention. As he turns around Thompson whips Beckson straight down his face causing a loud snapping sound to go through the arena. Beckson drops straight to his stomach holding his face.]
RM: What is this?
AD: What has gotten in to Maurice Thompson?!
[Thompson raises the whip and bring it down with extreme force across Beckson’s back. A red lash appears where Beckson was hit.]
RM: Thompson whipping Bane like a dog!
AD: What is going on here? Why is no one stopping this?
[Maurice face is emotionless as he raises the whip again, he swings down with force causing another lash to come across Beckson’s back. Bane screams out in pain as he rolls over. The camera catches a glimpse of the red gash across Beckson’s forehead and nose.]
RM: We should have seen this coming. Thompson seemed far too calm when talking about Beckson.
AD: Kid, they’re just words! I don’t care what anyone says about Chelsea, this is going too far!
[The crowd cheers as Thompson kicks Beckson back to his stomach. He whips Beckson three consecutive times causing blood to drip from the wounds. Thompson pauses for a moment before whipping Beckson one more time across his lower back. Beckson screams out again once more.]
RM: Beckson is just helpless here now.
AD: I am… I am stunned by what Thompson is doing here. This is just atrocious.
[Thompson whips Beckson one more time causing another gash on his back, Thompson immediately leaps to the top turnbuckles and hits Beckson with the, Flight Of The Hidatsa to Beckson’s already damaged back.]
RM: Oh my god, what is he doing with that bottle…
[The camera zooms in on the bottle.]
AD: That’s rubbing alcohol!
RM: My god, is he serious?
[The crowd cheers as Thompson unscrews the top, stands over Beckson and slowly begins to pour the alcohol into his wound. Beckson screams out in pain as the pain has to be excruciating.]
RM: Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined anyone, much less Maurice Thompson capable of something like this.
[Maurice throws the bottle down as the last drop seeps into Beckson’s skin. Maurice spits on Beckson adding insult to injury, he turns his around and slowly walks across the ring knowing Beckson is in no shape to get up.]
AD: Oh… There’s going to be repercussions from management if Kyle Hayden’s mood earlier is any indication.
RM: Fans, we’re out of time, we’ll see you in Sioux Falls, South Dakota for “Drink Black Hole Brew!”
[Thompson steps out on the ring apron, he slowly turns around to look at Beckson who isn’t moving, covered in his own blood. The scene fades as Thompson continues to look at Beckson without a single drop of emotion in his eyes.]
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