(about Nitz Donnelly) He’s like an Andrew Dice Clay that somersaults and jumps around like a monkey.
Blaine Blair
ReVolution 128
23 May 2007 / Jackson Sports Arena: Jackson, Mississippi
Contractual Obligations
Will you bring your attention to me?
A flurry of cheers and respect greet the reigning 5-Star Champion as he makes his way through the curtain, contract in hand and a large smile on his face. He plays to the crowd a little bit, lighting them up just that much more. Truly, his passion for the game is at an all time high.
Nick: What a way to kickstart this night! Whether you like him or not, this man has held every singles title in PRIME but one and if things go his way next week, he’ll have that one too.
Richard: I have loved to hate him and hate him more now that he is opposing Nova.
Nick: That’s a rather one sided way to look at things Rich.
Richard: And? I’m not paid to sit on the fence. I’m paid to tell it like it is from my side of things.
Sirrajin, all the way down the aisle, hops on the apron and wastes no time in entering the squared circle.
Nick: That is a ring that he has arguably owned for the last three or so years and now, with that contract, he’ll be in there for many years to come.
Richard: Yipee hoo. Can I sleep now?
Killean grabs the mic after working the crowd up a bit more and after his music dies down, you can practically hear the building shaking to it’s foundation with all the noise the sold out crowd is making. This makes The Supreme Machine smile even brighter.
Killean: You all know why I’m here tonight. I was given this contract right here by PRIME management and I must say, it’s a very generous offer, one that I found impossible to turn down. So I’m here in front of you all to make all of these documents legal.
He holds the entire folder up in the air for the world to see, which gathers a somewhat cheap pop from the fans.
Killean: So let’s just skip all the formalities and ask questions later. Let’s get this done.
He opens the folder and flips through a couple pages, signing them, officially putting his stamp on the PRIME wrestling world once again. The crowd claps lightly.
Killean: You know, when I came out here just now, I had just gotten out of Lisa Tyler’s office where I spoke with her and Blaine Blair about the final details of this deal. It’s funny because it feels like all I have done in the last week is talk and talk about this new contract and I haven’t spent much time in the ring, but that will change tonight.
He stops talking for a second, moving over to the ropes and looking out into the crowd, who work themselves up again for a cheap view on the Wal-Tron.
Killean: It’ll change tonight because I have a new deal to live up to. Now I know this hasn’t been done much, if at all in the past, but I would like to read to everyone what I’ve just signed, because really I have nothing to hide. I have made it this far because of the millions of PRIME fans around the world. It’s all of you that make our world go ‘round. No fans... no PRIME. It’s that simple really.
He opens the folder again, this time looking at the top page, ready to read it aloud for everyone.
Nick: This is rather unorthodox Rich. Normally, a clause in all contracts states that exact details are not to be released for public knowledge.
Richard: Oh and you’re the know it all around here now? Obviously he just wants to flaunt is premium million dollar deal in our faces. Yes jackass, we know you get lots of money and all your travel is paid for. Bah.
Nick: Little testy are we?
Killean: So here we go, nothing hidden, you’ll all know what is expected of me now.
He clears his throat, a rather odd expression on his face.
Killean: It states that... ‘The following documents are a legally binding. The only way these documents can be altered is if it’s agreed upon by both parties. These documents further state that as of a Pay-Per View event held by PRIME Wrestling called Overkill 2007, the following shall come into effect...
He pauses for a moment, pacing the ring until he comes to a stop. He solidly plants his feet on the mat and looks to the crowd once more before continuing.
Killean: ... the old documents pertaining to Mr. Sirrajin’s employment with PRIME Wrestling will cease to exist and these new set of documents shall take over. By signing these documents, Mr. Sirrajin has officially confirmed...
Queue up the jaw dropping.
...
...
Killean: ... his retirement.
The silence is deafening as he lowers the documents to his side. The crowd is taken back by what they have just heard and Nick and Richard look at each other with open mouths.
Richard: Ok, I’m awake now.
Killean: Yes, simple as it is, I am finished with wrestling come Overkill. There, I will have my last match. I don’t know what it will be yet, but it most certainly will have something to do with Fuck You.
Nick: I don’t know what to say. This man has accomplished so much and he is still so young. Why now?
Killean: Many of you may be saying, "Why are you doing this? You have plenty of time ahead of you." All I will say on the matter is I have my reasons and I have thought long and hard about this.
The crowd is still silent. A slight murmur is heard amongst the people in the stands.
Killean: You will all find out soon enough my reasons for leaving. But it is my decision and it is final. I’d just like to take this time to that everyone in PRIME, all the wrestlers, the staff and especially the fans who I have already said are the most important.
A slight pop is heard and a small chant starts up.
Crowd: "KILLEAN! KILLEAN! KILLEAN!"
He looks out at the fans as the chant grows louder, soon encompassing the entire arena. He looks on in awe, feeling awkward in this important time.
Killean: Thank you...
He puts the mic down and climbs the ropes, thrusting his arms up to the crowd’s roaring approval. The chant still ringing loud in everyone’s head, especially The Supreme Machine’s. Nick stands at the announce table and applauds as well. Richard can even be seen clapping, but he stops once the camera is on him. "Ladies and Gentlemen" plays once again, soon for the last time in PRIME.
The scenery of PRIME is about to change and it will soon head into Colossus IV, the first year the card will not feature the only active Hall of Fame Superstar.
Mark it on your calendars people. Overkill 2007, the last time Killean Sirrajin will grace a PRIME ring.
We Now Go Live To Lisa Tyler Being A Bitch. Lisa?
When you’re
That’s why you also tend to get temperamental when your lackeys aren’t paying you attention, such is the case with Burnie McCoy.
Burnie McCoy finds himself on the receiving end of a mighty backhand from his employer, stumbling around on the sidewalk. The intense voice of Father PRIME fills the outside air.
Silver: BURNIE, DON’T YOU EVER DROP MY LUGGAGE ON THE GROUND WHERE THE REST OF THE COMMONER’S LUGGAGE HAS BEEN OR I’M GONNA PUT MORE HOLES THROUGH YOUR BODY THAN A VIRGINIA TECH STUDENT!
Oh, shit, THAT doesn’t go over well for the likes of the fans that jeer that downright horrible comment. Nevertheless, the Chairman walks with Slash and Burnie McCoy at his side as he goes to enter the building…
However, the man is stopped dead in his tracks when he sees a flock of security in his way with one particular figure in the way;
"Well, well, well, look who decided to show their ugly hides?"
Lisa Tyler.
Burnie: Who?
Idiotically, he turns around and starts to scan the vicinity for these so-called "ugly hides." Slash shakes his head in frustration, then turns Burnie back to Tyler.
Slash: The white girl means us.
Burnie: I’ll have you know, you hussy, that my hide is smooth as the day it was created. Wanna see?
Everybody Else: NO!
Sonny shakes his head, then pushes Burnie back before looking down at PRIME’s Ice Queen.
Silver: Look here, Carpenter’s Dream… Thanks for bringing me this lovely security escort into the building. Surely, with tensions running high, Ta-Chew running around and smacking unsuspecting, sexy-ass Chairmen of PRIME with steel chairs, I’m gonna need them. Thanks, darlin’.
He turns to walk past Lisa, but security tightens up to prevent the faux Chairman from walking into the building. Sonny struggles, but the burly members of the Event Staff keep him from doing so…
Silver: Ty, these blasted Indy workers are broken or something. I order you to fix them right now so I may be permitted to go inside these premises to entertain the masses with the sound of my voice!
A smile crosses Lisa’s face.
Lisa: Oh, I assure you. They’re doing their job to spec. You, Sonny Silver, our esteemed Chairman of PRIME… you saw fit to break our little agreement when you and FU were told to behave yourselves. You attacked one of my wrestlers during his match and cost them the PRIME Tag Team Titles.
Silver smirks at that particular event.
Silver: Yeah, I remember that. Then I nearly beat the shit out of that poser, Danny Fergfucker, but one of my referees found a set of balls and DARED to count me out before I could get back in that ring and finish the fucking job. Rest assured, when I get my opportunity, I’m going to snap Danny Ferguson’s neck and wipe that potato-peeling piece of shit from this plane of existence.
Lisa: And you’ll have your opportunity, sir. The match has already been signed. Next week, you WILL be going one-on-one against Danny Ferguson in a match where there MUST be a winner and both FU and Team PRIME are barred from ringside.
Sonny licks his chops at the opportunity to step into the ring once more with Danny Ferguson, but the problem at hand of security not letting him in is still present.
Lisa: But that’s on PRIME’s Night of Champions. You, my friend, are going to have the night off for your interference last week. Consider yourself gone.
The fans?
Oh, yeah, they pop like it’s 1999… again. Sonny, on the other hand, is boiling on the inside.
Silver: You? YOU? YOU?! I’ll tell you who you are, bitch! You’re nothing! You’re absolutely nothing! You’re a low-level grunt designed to oppose my power, but you can’t! I’m the fucking CEO of this shit, little lady! You wanna know me? You wanna know my name? FUCK YOU! THAT’S MY NAME! You know why, missy? 'Cause you drove a Hyundai to get here tonight, I drove an eighty thousand dollar BMW. *That's* my name. Your name is "you're wanting", and you can't play the man's game, you can't close them, and then tell your wife your troubles. 'Cause only one thing counts in this world: get them to sign on the line which is dotted. You hear me you fuckin' faggots?
Burnie claps his hands and wipes a tear from his eye after that rousing rant.
Burnie: BRAVO! BRAVO, SIR! BETTER THAN DANNY WHATSHISLOSER!
Slash: Dude, your head’s, like, FAR up his ass.
Lisa isn’t impressed by Sonny’s ability to rip off Alec Baldwin on a moment’s notice.
Lisa: Good day, Mr. Silver. Don’t let the door hit ya where the Good Lord split ya.
Sonny stands there, not knowing what to do next; he seems truly lost. After being lost in thought for about two seconds, the old light bulb goes off.
Silver: Fife Posse, I have decided that instead of entertaining the masses, we’re going to be getting the night off. You guys need some rest after the traumatizing experience of seeing your savior get disrespected by some overrated fuckface named Ta-Chew. Let’s go, gents.
Slash takes a hint, but Burnie scratches his beard and wonders aloud.
Burnie: Actually, sir, I’m fine. I mean, I know Tchu hit you, but I think I can work ton--
*SMACK*
Silver: I SAID WE’RE TAKING THE NIGHT OFF, ASSHOLE!
He whimpers and scurries off back into the car while Slash does as he’s told and enters the vehicle. Sonny blows off Lisa Tyler completely and he and Fife Posse disappear into the night. The smell of burning rubber causes Lisa to wrinkle her nose as she motions for the security guards to file back into the building. She turns to follow them, but doesn't progress any further when she notices that the guards haven't moved...they've only parted their numbers down the middle to reveal Lindsay Troy standing behind them, the makings of a shit-eating grin pulling at her mouth.
Troy: Well, am I ever glad I got to witness that. Nice moves, half-pint. Didn't really think you had it in you when you had to venture out from behind a desk.
Lisa glowers at the backhanded compliment from the Queen.
Lisa: I'm actually half-surprised at your restraint, Troy. I figured you'd be all gung-ho to meet him fists-first in the parking lot and I'd have to kick you out too, despite this being your idea and all.
Troy: Fuckhead'll get his receipt in due time. I've got plenty of pent-up aggression that I need to alleviate on his thick head, but I'm not stupid enough to get punted for not playing nice before the time is right. I've got allllllll the time in the world to devote to fucking Sonny's world up.
She turns to leave, but not before throwing one more notation over her shoulder.
Troy: Might want to watch yourself though, Lise.
Lisa: And why, pray tell, is that?
Troy: You're starting to remind me of me. And that's just a little bit scary.
The Neck Brace might be OverKill (cheap plug!)
Gamble: WITHOUT PAY!
Snow: FIRED!
Gamble: HANGED!
Blair, Snow, Chainz, and Nova all cast an odd look towards The Grin, who’s sporting a thick neck brace, more for theatrics than necessity. Snow, shakes his head and turns his attention back to Blair.
Snow: Last week was bullshit! We demand you do something about it!
Blair: Gentlemen, I understand you’re anger, and…
Snow: I don’t think you do! This is exactly why I went out and got myself a bodyguard in the meanest, baddest guy on this roster.
Behind Snow’s right shoulder, Chainz folds his arms and grins.
Gamble: If you don’t do something about that sonofabitch, Tchubert, you’re gonna be very very sorry, Blaine! Look what he did to me!
The Grin points to the neck brace wrapped around his throat.
Gamble: He could have killed me! Who knows… I could be paralyzed!
Blair: You walked in here…
Gamble: ADRENALINE! What happens when that wears off? I may never walk again
Jason Snow and Tony Gamble stand waiting for a response from Blair, who just rubs his temples with his fingertips. Behind the very vocal duo, Nova stands quietly, Universal title across his shoulder, his face equally as outraged as his companions, but he chooses to keep his words to himself, seething in silence.
Snow: Get your roster under control, or we’ll do it for you, Blair.
The boss sighs and leans back in his chair.
Blair: Gentlemen… I understand that you want Tchu suspended. But there’s really no need to threaten me. As you may have noticed, you’re partner, Mr. Silver, isn’t here tonight. He’s been given the evening off for his interference in the Tag Team Battle Royal last week. And as for Tchu… I’ve already taken care of it. Yesterday, I called and informed him that he would be suspended, without pay, until OverKill.
Gamble: OverKill?! That’s only three weeks away! A three week suspension?!
Blair: Yes. I had thought about suspending him for longer, but the simple fact is… I need him back for OverKill, or the numbers don’t work for the main event.
Snow: Numbers? What main event.
Blair: I’m tired of all this garbage. FU this, AFUC that… at OverKill, it ends. The main event will be an eight man tag. The four of you FU gentlemen will be taking on…
Blair begins popping up his fingers to count off names.
Blair:…Lindsay Troy, Danny Ferguson, Killean Sirrajin, and Tchu
As he says The Inhuman Being’s name, he puts up the fourth finger and wiggles them for emphasis. The looks on the faces of FU contort into what can only be described as ‘extremely displeased.’ Blair seems a bit nervous behind his desk, hoping to avoid another explosion. Luckily, FU slowly starts to make their way out of the office, fuming in a way that prevents words from escaping their lips.
As they all slide out of the room, Nova remains a step behind, turning back to stare across his gold laden shoulder at the man steering PRIME’s ship, then exits the office, slamming the door closed behind him.
Vangelus Olsig vs. Kurt Panzer
"Abortion Candy" by Deadservants.
The fans start to give a mixed reaction comprised mostly of jeers as the curtains part and give way to former Alias, Intense Champion, and #1 Contender to the Universal Title, Vangelus Olsig. Fresh off a sabbatical to clear him of various nagging injuries, the Prince of Delusion sneers at the fans and walks several paces ahead of his seemingly reluctant partner, Machiavelli St. Romani.
Nick: Fans, welcome back to ReVolution and this next match is a result of that Tag Title Battle Royale where we saw Olsig and his new partner, Machiavelli St. Romani come to PRIME. They had a real good outing in that Tag Team Royale last week, but was eliminated by the runners-up to that match, Kurt Panzer of Das Korps.
Richard: Holy crap, dude. Those are some BIG Germans. I mean, Olsig’s the shit and all, but just one of those guys took on half the tag team roster last week. I have faith that he knows what he’s doing.
Vince: Making his way to the ring, being accompanied by Machiavelli St. Romani, from Bogota, Colombia, weighing in at 227 pounds… he is VANGELUS OLSIG!
Nick: We’ve seen Olsig take on guys TWICE his size and still come out on top. You are right, though. He’s gonna have to use his experience, speed, and that tenacity of his if he’s going to beat the very dominant Kurt Panzer.
Olsig rolls into the ring and largely ignores Romani’s pleas to talk strategy with his tag team partner. The former multiple-time PRIME champion yells at him to mind his business before turning his attention to the entryway.
"Du Hast" by Rammstein.
Vince: And his opponent, being accompanied to the ring by Klaus Stienheil, from Berlin, Germany weighing in at 295 pounds…KURT PANZER!
The lights start to strobe with a blood-red hue that flashes in tune to the music as Kurt Panzer makes his way out. The fans don’t boo as strongly as they did for the PRIME veteran, bu thte hatred is still felt. However, Kurt shrugs it off. Klaus Steinheil accompanies his partner-in-crime to the ring while Kurt finishes taping up his fists. The look on Olsig’s face doesn’t change any as Panzer nears the ring. In fact, he’s more than eager to take the fight to Kurt by diving through the ropes and catching his opponent off-guard with a HUGE Tope through the ropes!
Nick: WHOA! The bell rings and Olsig’s doing all he can right now to keep Kurt Panzer down. Both tag team partners are out here with their respective partners, so this could get interesting real fast.
Richard: I don’t know who to root for! I mean, Olsig is Olsig, but Panzer’s damn near 7 feet and near the 300-pound mark!
While Richard debates who to give his undivided support, the 227-pound Colombian takes the fight to the giant while the referee looks on, making sure Klaus doesn’t interfere. Romani’s well away from his unlikely ally, but looks on as the uber-aggressive Olsig starts kicking Panzer all across his body. He pelts the big man – now on his knees with several stiff elbows to the face. He goes for a whip to try and fling the German War Machine into the ropes, but he use his power to stop the former Intense Champ in his tracks, then reverses it to send Vangelus CRASHING into the guardrail.
Nick: HOLY LORD, WHAT POWER! In a heartbeat, Kurt Panzer just turned the match in his favor, sending Olsig right into that unforgiving guardrail.
Richard: Get up, Olsig! Beat him up! No, wait! Crush him underneath your boot, Kurt!
Nick: …I liked you better when you picked one side and stuck with it.
Richard: My allegiance knows no bounds.
Panzer takes two handfuls of Vangelus’ hair and brings him back to his feet before pummeling the former Alias Champ with some vicious Clubbing Forearms. When he grows bored of doing this, he Military Presses Olsig over his head for several seconds, then HURLS him in between the second and third ropes.
Richard: Damn, that was pretty tight.
Nick: Olsig’s gonna have to try a different strategy in order to keep Kurt Panzer down for the count.
While the ref calls for some order, The Ariel Diva shakes out the cobwebs and starts to get back to his feet just as Kurt enters the ring by stepping over the ropes. He goes for a waistlock, but Olsig scurries out of harm’s way and starts to kick at the left leg of Panzer furiously. Panzer pushes him away with one hand. He rolls through and runs at the ropes to gain some momentum, but all Kurt does is get the arm out to nail a Charging Lariat that takes Vangelus out of his boots!
He lands off the corkscrew and falls on the mat while Kurt wastes zero time on the offensive. He delivers several kicks to the downed Olsig and pries him off the mat before depositing him in the center of the ring with a big Body Slam. He goes for the first pin attempt of the match.
ONE!
TWO!
SHOULDER UP!
Vangelus manages to weather the storm for a few more seconds, but doesn’t like the look of that big thundercloud named Kurt Panzer heading his way. Kurt drags him back to his feet and whips him into the nearest corner. He backs a few steps and makes a beeline for the corner, but Olsig narrowly evades the Body Avalanche, sending the giant crashing into the unforgiving ring post. The longest-reigning Intense Champion goes back to work and finally manages to knock the big man out by chop-blocking his leg. Kurt tumbles to one knee, then Olsig grabs him by the head and DRIVES him into the mat with a big DDT.
Nick: Nice move! Here’s the pinfall.
ONE!
TWO!
POWER KICKOUT!
Richard: Damn! I thought that DDT was gonna be enough, but Kurt literally threw him off.
Nick: Olsig’s a fairly big man himself, pushing about 225-230, but Panzer’s all power. Wait, what? What the Hell is Vangelus Olsig doing?
The furious former Fuhrer (of the Dani variety) goes outside the ring and shoves the timekeeper out of the way to procure the assistance of a steel chair.
Nick: What the hell does he think he’s gonna do with that chair? This isn’t Intense Rules!
Richard: He’s gonna show him his seatWHAT THE SHIT DO YOU THINK HE’S GONNA DO?! He’s gonna smack that German right back to Dub-ya Dub-ya Two!
Olsig doesn’t even make it back into the ring with that particular weapon, as his own partner blocks his path. Romani, being a sportsman that values the rules and honors all opponents, snatches it away from Vangelus and throws it to the side. Klaus mouths some words to Olsig, but he’s preoccupied with Romani.
Olsig: Get the hell out of my way, Romani. Now!
Romani: No! You know this isn’t right!
Nick: Looks like they’re having some words of their own out here!
Richard: Romani’s some pansy-ass do-gooder! Let Olsig use what brought him to the dance!
Aggravated at his own partner, he blows right past him and enters the ring without the chair. However, the brief spat gives Kurt Panzer the reprieve he needs to get back into the action. Vangelus walks right into the path of a HUGE Double-Leg Lift before finding himself plowed right back into the corner!
Kurt uses his bulk to power Olsig there and starts to make use of several stiff Shoulder Thrusts aimed at the solar plexus of the PRIME veteran. The referee calls for the five-count, but Panzer breaks away of his own accord. He grabs both his arms and holds him up in the air for several seconds before SPIKING him down with a Double Underhook Suplex.
Nick: What a great maneuver by Kurt Panzer! He can’t take too many hits like that otherwise he’s gonna find himself on the receiving end of a loss.
Panzer goes for another cover.
ONE!
TWO!
THR… NO!
Olsig fights back up, but Kurt drives a few pointed elbows into his head before pulling him back to his feet. Kurt sets him up in a Standing Headscissors and powers him up, most likely looking to finish him off with a big Powerbomb. Vangelus springs to life though, punching away fervently at Panzer’s big Aryan skull. When that fails him, he rakes the eyes of the giant until he lets him loose.
Romani shakes his head at his partner’s cheating tactics, but Olsig peppers Kurt with several more kicks to the leg to bring the big man down once again. Vangelus bounces off the ropes and comes back, cracking Kurt HARD in the skull with a stiff Shining Wizard! Once he collapses, a small pocket of fans cheer on the PRIME veteran that sports various scars and injuries as badges of honor.
His apathy for the opinion of others allows him to press on through their fan reaction and leaps off one corner, then another, then lands a BIG Triple Jump Moonsault across the chest of Kurt.
Richard: YES! Kill that Kraut!
Nick: RICHARD!
Richard: What?! That’s what he is! Cover!
ONE!
TWO!
THRE… KICK OUT!
Nick: Close call by Vangelus Olsig, but Panzer still kicks out. Vangelus will have to pull out something pretty big in order to win this match.
Richard: He looks like he might do that!
Olsig measures up the big man as he gets up, albeit in a groggy state. He gets a running start off the ropes and tries to nail a Running Superkick, but Kurt catches him by the foot. He turns him around halfway and locks in a rear waistlock before hurling Olsig halfway across the ring with a HUGE Release German Suplex that turns him on his stomach. While the former Alias/Intense Champion tries to recover from the impact of the deadly maneuver, the big man gets to his feet and stalks him from the corner, intent on possibly killifying him with the Blitzkrieg.
Vangelus comes around and slowly makes it to his feet just in time to see the behemoth charging at him. Thinking on his feet, Olsig pops off a HUGE dropkick that smacks Kurt in the face, sending the German Giant to the mat.
Nick: What a nice reversal from Olsig! But… wait, Klaus Stienheil is on the apron! What the hell is he doing?
The giant stands on the apron, but doesn’t say a word. Instead he simply leers at Olsig, who finds it to be a little freaky. Suddenly, Machiavelli St. Romani comes into the fray and gets into the face of Klaus, keeping him from attacking his partner or distracting this match any further. The ref then yells at BOTH men, which gives Olsig the perfect opportunity. He quickly leaves the ring and comes back with the same chair in hand he wished to use earlier.
Nick: Damn it, Olsig’s got that chair again!
Richard: Whoo-hoo! SMACK HIM! SMACK HIM!
As Kurt starts to get back to his feet, he catches a chair aimed right for his face. This leaves The Prince of Delusion with the one good killshot…
SUPERKICK TO THE CHAIR!
The chair recoils into the face of Panzer, knocking him to the mat.
Richard: I KNEW HE COULD DO IT!
Nick: Damn it! Kurt Panzer may be a bully, but he at least was trying to keep this match between just he and Vangelus.
Olsig dispatches of the evidence and hooks a leg of Kurt Panzer as best he can as the referee finally turns around. He kneels down and makes the cover.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
"Abortion Candy" by Deadservants blasts over the PA as Vangelus Olsig makes it out of the ring, breathing a heavy sigh of relief that he found the opening he needed to cheat his way to a victory. Romani, realizing that his need to aid his new reluctant ally was used against him, has some words with Olsig as he quickly gets the hell out of dodge.
Vince: HERE IS YOUR WINNER…… VANGELUS OLSIG!
Klaus comes into the ring and chases him off, then aids his fallen ally, who amazingly starts to come around so quickly after the brutal shot with the chair.
Nick: Well, it appears that Olsig has gained some much-needed momentum for himself in his first singles match in quite some time, but it took some unfair tactics and a steel chair to keep Kurt Panzer down long enough.
Both members of Das Korps simply fume at the sight of a successful Olsig, who’s doing his best to ignore the speech about fighting fair from Romani.
Nick: Well, folks, we’ve still got a lot more show left to come! Stay tuned!
Prove Yourself
Easton let a rare smirk cross his face as he saw the man who was approaching him from the other end of the hall. Brandon Youngblood stalked in his direction, with something obviously on his mind. He met Easton's eye and he snarled, but Easton wasn't going to back down.
Easton Hall: Hey, Youngblood!
Brandon continued to walk, silent. They passed each other and Easton turned around, watching the man's back.
Easton Hall: Hey, I was just wondering about what you said, y'know, showing me how a real technician does it? How did that go, anyway?"
In a flash, Youngblood had whirled around and shoved Easton against the wall, his hands gripping the shorter man's shirt. Easton's mocking joviality was gone, replaced by a ferocity that came with being backed against the wall, but Youngblood wasn't letting him go.
Brandon Youngblood: You shut your goddamn mouth, Hall! You want me to show you how a technician does it, I'll break your freakin' arm! Don't ever – don't ever – talk to me like that again, you hear me?
Easton lifted his jaw.
Easton Hall: You get your hands off me, shit-for-brains, before something bad happens.
Brandon Youngblood snarled and that was the only warning Easton got before the Only Diamond in Our Sport slugged him hard across the jaw and let him slump to the ground.
Brandon Youngblood: Fuck you.
Youngblood turned away, marching down the way he had been walking and leaving Easton to check his jaw. Easton shook his head, getting to his feet. He made to shout, but thought better of it and simply turned to walk the other way. No, Easton wasn't going to lose this match and prove Youngblood right.
Easton Hall: But fuck if he doesn't hit hard…
Prelude to a Wedding
Michael Sloan entered the locker room with a bottle of water in hand. He promptly handed it to her and took a seat next to her, kissing her shoulder and moving up to her neck.
Tracy giggled a little.
Tracy: Well I’m glad to see you too.
Chainz: Mmm, you smell so good I could just eat you.
He playfully bit her on her neck.
Tracy: Well thank you, now what do you think of this dress?
She held a page in front of him with a lavish dress on it.
Chainz: You could wear duct tape and you’d still be the most gorgeous bride ever.
She laughed as she continued leafing through her magazine.
Tracy: I’m so glad we’re finally getting married. We’ve been together for a long time and I think it’s just right that we spend the rest of our lives together.
Chainz: I couldn’t agree more.
Tracy: Now Michael, I know you make good money, but this wedding you’ve got planned, well it’s extremely expensive.
Chainz: Don’t worry about that, why do you think I’m working with Jason Snow?
She looked confused.
Chainz: It’s not because I really like the guy or anything. I have a service to provide and he needs said service. It’s a natural fit, he gets to feel safe and I get to give you the wedding you deserve.
She wrapped her arms around him and gave him a kiss.
Tracy: I don’t really like him very much.
Chainz smiled.
Chainz: Yeah, me neither.
This Is Just Weird
Devin Shakur rolls his eyes and barges into his locker room door, idly wondering why the place is dark.
Shakur: Lot better than you putting yours in a glory hole, I’ll say that much.
The door shuts behind him and Shakur immediately balls his fists up, anticipating a fight but he doesn’t know from which side.
"Isn’t it funny?" Another ‘foreign’ voice questions (come on! We all know who this is! For those who guessed at Telly Savalas, you’re wrong and way behind on the times. He’s dead. Bladder Cancer in ’94. Life’s a bitch) . This time, however, it’s quite obvious the perpetrator is in the very same room -- or it would be if you’re Sherlock Holmes, Batman or even Detective Chimp.
They could even tell you who it was just by sound.
Why?
Because they fucking rule and marginally omnipotent.
Shakur: What the fuck?
More fumbling noises, with very little visible success emerge, followed by a thud and more cursing by the man who likes to be balls-deep in Communist in his spare time…Which if Communist in said sentence is Sun Tzu, that’s not exactly a bad thing. Hi, I’m the Chris who spells his name properly and that was one of my edits.
"When you’re sitting on the can," the ‘mystery voice’ begins (now, if you guessed at River Phoenix, then where the fuck have you been?), "without any reading material, and your mind wanders back a little, remembers stuff long forgotten and partially buried."
Shakur [muttering]: I swear to God if Tim Curry pops out of the fucking closet…
"…"
Then, the lights flicker into life and Shakur whirls around on the spot, squinting as his eyes slowly adjust to the new levels of light. Then he can see him. Sitting at the back of the locker room, leant back against the wall and his feet up on the wooden bench opposite.
It’s Jonathan Winters (surprise, surprise!).
Shakur: Winters? What the fuck are you doing in my locker room, sitting in the dark?
Winters throws him a toothy grin.
Winters: I couldn’t find the light switch.
Shakur mutters "Typical capitalist"
Shakur: So what is this all about? Have something to do with that supposedly witty banter just a second ago? Something about reading whilst taking a shit?
Winters: I remembered something just the other day…
Shakur: …that you’re actually gay and this is some kind of perverse way of coming on to me?
Winters winks at him.
Winters: Of course, but don’t tell your mother, she’s the jealous type.
Shakur: Wow, making jokes about my dead mother…That’s not in the ‘Heel Book’ I read, scraping the bottom of the barrel aren’t you?
Winters: Come to think of it I am.
Shakur: So what’s the point of all this?
Winters: I just wanted to remind you that I haven’t forgotten your little games and I--
Shakur develops a confused expression.
Shakur: What games?
Winters: Pulling the strings on the whole Winters/Gamble debacle.
Shakur: Did you just refer to yourself in the third person?
Winters: No, Winters didn’t and Winters is above such questions.
Shakur: Anyway, that was so last month…
Winters: I know it was. I was there.
Shakur: So you’re here a month later looking for revenge? That’s pretty Clandestine of you…
Winters simply glares at him for a second.
Shakur: Word of the day toilet paper.
Winters: Ah. That explains your verbose vocabulary at least.
This time it’s Shakur who glares back at him questioningly.
Winters: I watch a lot of Frasier reruns.
A wave of realisation washes over Shakur and Winters face grows more serious, getting right back on topic.
Winters: So, about this Gamble thing…
Shakur: …are you here to attack me or something?
Winters stands and chuckles to himself.
Winters: Ah. That’s what you want me to do…
Shakur raises his eyebrows.
Shakur: Is it?
Winters: But physical violence seems so…so…barbaric.
Shakur: You do realise that you’re a professional wrestler, right?
Winters ignores him.
Winters: I’m going to play mind games with you Shakur. Mind games that attack you mentally.
Shakur simply glares at him, unimpressed, but Winters continues unabashed.
Winters: The Cerebral Assassin, they’ll call me--
Shakur’s eyes burrow.
Shakur: You’re going to shoot me in the head?
Winters: I couldn’t get a permit.
Shakur: Why?
Winters: Because I don’t know my own real name.
Shakur: That explains a lot.
Winters: So they say.
Shakur: By the way, I think Cerebral Assassin is taken.
Winters: It is? By who?
Shakur: The guy with the nose.
Winters: Yeah, that’s right.
Shakur: So--
Winters: So, you’ll be hearing from me soon, Shakur. Very soon.
Shakur: And you’re playing mind games with me?
Winters: Correct.
Shakur: And when do these begin? Will I feel anything? Is there a telepath involved?
Winters simply sighs and exit’s the locker room, leaving Shakur slightly perplexed and perhaps even a little fruity.
Shakur: I liked it better when I was going through windows trying to kill Gamble.
Shakur walks down the hallway and now we pan back to the announcer team.
Nick: Now that had to be one of the strangest encounters I’ve seen.
Richard: You think? Winters has gone from being totally serious emo to just being weird.
Nick: Wait, why are we talking in between segs?
Richard: Because it has been structured so that Shakur has to appear in another seg immediately following the one we just saw.
Nick: Ah, so how long do we have to wait?
Richard: About ten lines. So…What do we talk about?
Nick: What do you think is gonna happen in the next seg?
Richard: Yeah, just cut to a commercial.
Commercial: Commercials…Don’t you get sick of seeing them? Get a DVR and you won’t have to see them ever again…Unless you are watching live TV.
Pre Match Shenanigans
If Devin Shakur is standing next to him dressed in a People's Liberation Army uniform, that's usually worse.
The fact that neither of them are killing each other is a sign of the apocalypse.
Let's listen in, because they don't know the invisible camera is here.
Devin Shakur: So with your strength, how long does it take to strangle someone?
Chainz: Depends what we’re talking about. A chicken, I can do with one hand.
He places his hands close to Shakur’s neck, which startles the man a bit.
Chainz: A human being? Well that all depends on whether or not I want them to die or not.
Devin Shakur completely no sells the previous moment between Chainz and himself.
Devin Shakur: What about two, one the size of Pierce Lavelle and the other the size of Big Bear?
Chainz: The fat bastard I can take care, you take care of Lavelle. Tracy wants me to take it easy.
Devin Shakur: You two aren't planning to have sex under the ring again are you?
Chainz looks at Shakur with an evil grin.
Chainz: What I do is my own business.
Devin Shakur: I support that since it coincides with the Communist aspect of liberal freedom.
Chainz: Shut the fuck up. Just stay out of my way and everything will be fine. You fuck with me and I'll pay that little whore you've got eyes for a visit and rip her ass in two.
Devin Shakur: You ever heard of something called Ritali-
"A communist and a masochist in the same room and it ain't even Halloween."
Pierce Lavelle entered, looking displeased and dressed in his wrestling gear. He stood a good distance from Devin Shakur and Chainz, knowing full well neither man could be trusted in close proximity
Pierce Lavelle: It's my two favourite people, Carrie and Commy Limp Dick.
Chainz: The fuck do you want bitch, you're lucky Tracy doesn't want me to hurt you.
Lavelle: Your hormones raging again, Mikey? Commy here got you all in a knot!
Chainz went to lunge at Pierce just as Tracy emerged behind him.
Tracy: Michael, come on, save it for the ring.
He immediately stopped, his eyes on the verge of insanity.
Chainz: You just wait Lavelle, the time will come.
Lavelle had the biggest smile grace his lips, folding his arms he relaxed.
Lavelle: That all you got bo-peep! Come on, I've read better Stephen King novels.
Devin Shakur: Wow, and all this time I thought Lavelle and myself were the two that needed couples therapy. You two take the fucking cake
Pierce turned to Devin Shakur, a look of pure hatred in his eyes.
Lavelle: I haven't even got started with you, Chinese Chicken.
Chainz: Fuck this.
Chainz grabs Tracy arms and walks away.
Lavelle: That little stunt you pulled last week, I haven't forgotten, Lucy-Liu.
Pierce approached Devin Shakur, a smile across his lips, and gazed at the emblems on Shakur's outfit.
Lavelle: Medal for ass-licking, I assume
Devin Shakur: What in the name of Mao made you believe that you would win Lavelle?
Lavelle: The fact your Mao Princess was pissed and couldn't even stand properly, course divine Devina intervention, and your whore wins. I got to tell you, Jackie, I was quite amused at how low you're willing to go for this chick. I mean she ain't even that interested
Devin Shakur: You are blinded by your capitalistic thoughts there, Pierce. When I want something, I'll stop at nothing to get it. You on the other hand will go out and cure narcolepsy with Dusk, Jesus Christ get over yourself. Your demise is on the horizon and I'll be the one to make it happen.
Lavelle: I would really love to see you try Shakur.
Devin Shakur: Because you know you can’t beat me when all of it is left in the ring.
Lavelle: Bulls-
"COMMUNIST!"
Devin Shakur: Oh donkey bollocks.
Devin Shakur takes off down the hallway, and not a moment too soon. Big Bear Munson Monsoon, carrying a big ass American flag, comes charging into the picture to go after him. He stops, looks at his partner Lavelle, shakes his hand, nods, and then charges off down the corridor.
"ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR, SHAKUR IS A COMMY WHORE! ONE TWO THREE FOUR, SHAKUR IS A COMMY WHORE!"
Well at least now we know Big Bear has a future in the protest slogan business if the wrestling thing doesn’t work out.
Pierce Lavelle watches his partner bolt after Shakur, shakes his head, and walks down the hall eager to start the match.
Pierce Lavelle & Munson Monsoon vs. Devin Shakur & Chainz
Richard: Just so it’s on the record…I am totally for people converting to a different philosophy on life if it means they get to plow Rabid Panda someday.
Nick: You seriously better hope Sun Tzu doesn’t watch these matches.
Richard: Seriously…Hey how’s your face from last week?
Nick: …Anywho, Big Bear Munson Monsoon probably would have had his debut PRIME W if it had not been for Chainz football kicking him in the package after he delivered the Chump Buster to Tony Gamble.
Richard: I also support football kicking people in the package
Richard does his double V pose and shakes his head wildly ala Nixon. This also in on the political front, Dewey actually did defeat Truman.
Nick: Also last week, Pierce Lavelle pretty much had the match against Sun Tzu won by default, had it not been for Devin Shakur’s shenanigans.
Richard: SHENANIGANS BOIIIIII!
Nick: This match is going to have some bad blood. The team of Lavelle and Munson proves to be very intriguing. Lavelle has a combination of technical prowess and high flying ability to go along with Munson’s plow ahead style. They seem to have better team chemistry than Chainz and Shakur at this point, and that could prove to be the difference in this contest.
Richard: I think Chainz and Shakur can work together despite their volatile tempers, and if they do watch the fuck out. Chainz can kill someone with his bare hands and Shakur could kill someone with his feet.
Nick: My money is on them not being able to…Let’s go up to the ring.
Vince Howard: The following contest is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, weighing in at 258 pounds…BIG BEAR MUNSON MONSOON!
The Wal*Tron flashes the PRIME logo then sits at a stale black state. The arena lights dim down, lowering visibility to jack shit. Camera flashes and the backstage lighting is all to luminate the entry way slightly. The music intro began...
Standin in the rain, With his head hung low
Couldn't get a ticket, It was a sold out show
Heard the roar of the crowd, He could picture the scene
Put his head to the wall, Then like a distant scream
He heard one guitar...
The Wal*Tron flickers between a black screen and something else. It looks like the aisleway to the ring, but from a different show. Everyone instantly becomes happier in their pants on cue as the guitar rips through the PA speakers.
Just blew him away
Saw stars in his eyes, and the very next day
Saw a beat up old six-string in a secondhand store
Didnt know how to play it, but he knew for sure
That one guitar...
Another scorching, rip-roraring TWANG floods the hearing department of every PRIMEate, THEIR MOM, and some. This time the huge roar accompanied the emergence of Munson Monsoon from the flashing brightness that is the strobe light display right in front of the backstage entry, accented by a bright white pyro effect. Big Bear comes out with his arms raised, each index finger pointed to the sky.
Felt good in his hands
Didnt take long, to understand
Just one guitar, slung waaay down low
Was a one way ticket
Only one way to go...
Big Bear, full of intensity, pointed and jawed at the crowd to the left. He gave the 'YOU READY?! EFF YES!' gesture, pounding his chest enough times to top King Kong. He flipped views, heading to the other side and repeating his signature 'COME AND GET IT!' motions. The Wal*Tron is a montage of Big Bear vamping up the arenas he has been through, flashing 'BIG BEAR MUNSON MONSOON' transparently over the footage.
So he started rockin!
Aint never gonna stop
Gotta keep on rock-in!
Someday, gonna make it to the top
The massive beast was walking along side the aisle, slapping hands all over the place. He reached out, tapping hands with some of the more distant fans, everybody gets to love the Bear. He continued on, slapping hands and jammin' out to the sweet tune that was his theme.
And be a juke box hero, got stars in his eyes
Hes a juke box hero
He took one guitar, juke box hero, stars in his eyes
Juke box hero, he'll come alive tonight
Monsoon was now scaling the ring steps to the ropes, then hopped up on the turnbuckle, pointing to all of the fans. EACH-AND-EVERY-ONE. He stopped, locking eyes with some putz, wearing CHAIRMAN OF PRIME propaganda, and booing him. He reared back, pointing his giant left hand at the kid, eyes filled with passion.
CROWD + BIG BEAR: BUST! THAT! CHUMP!!
The fan, dejected and sad, crapped himself then ran off - mullett swinging the entire way to the ladie's room. The entire arena basked in the misfortune of one young man, including Big Bear.
Now he needs to keep rockin
He just cant stop
Gotta keep on rock-in
That boy has got to stay on top
Hopping down, he motions for the crowd to cheer more, throwing his arms in the air as the foreigner classic tune blasts on over the speaker system. He began to play the air-guitar.
And be a juke box hero, got stars in his eyes
Hes a juke box hero, got stars in his eyes
Yeah, juke box hero, got stars in his eyes
With that one guitar hell come alive
Come alive tonight...
The guitar solo that is more bad ass than Mr. T begins.
Like Ted Nugent's prodigy, Munson drops to his knees - air soloing his way to the hearts of every daughter, mother, fruitcake, and girl in the 17-69 age group... 17 is legal in New York, I heard.
Monsoon hops to his feet, tearing his glasses off and flexes for the crowd as a fast-paced light show highlights the ring. He tosses his glasses away to the crowd and then removes his headband, tossing it to a totally smokin' hot babe, who just so happened to not be wearing a bra.
Richard: Isn’t that the same woman who was here last week?
Nick: Do you think it’s Faith Hill in disguise?
Richard: MONEY!
BIG HIGH FIVE! Yeah, they don’t get many of those moments.
Vince Howard: Introducing his partner, weighing in at 235 pounds…PIERCE LAVELLE!
The lights suddenly go out, plunging the unsuspecting crowd into the darkness. Flashbulbs shatter throughout the arena, trying to illuminate ringside, just in case they’re missing anything.
Then, the driving beats of ‘Map of the Problematique’ by Muse fills the arena, as an explosion is heard illuminating the arena once more. Standing on the stage, with his head down, is Pierce Lavelle, and the crowd is going absolutely crazy.
Slowly, he raises his head showing off his new look and a cocky smile lines his face as he looks toward the ring, his music blaring loudly over the speakers.
When Piece Lavelle rolls into the ring, he climbs one of the corners, stands in a crucifix pose, letting out a mighty bellow.
Pierce Lavelle jumps off the turnbuckle, turning to look at his opponent, his eyes locked as the lyrics slowly come to an end. The crowd silences as the metal words course through their ears…
Vince Howard: Their opponents, first weighing in at whatever the fuck he wants to weigh in, motherfucker…CHAINZ!
"For You" by Korn hits and Mike 'Chainz' Sloan walks out from the back, Tracy holding his hand and looking stunning as always. The boos emanating from the crowd nearly drown out the music as they show their hatred for one of the most hated men in wrestling history.
He looks at them, staring intently at a select few, his cold eyes chilling the unlucky audience members as Tracy waves to the screaming public, mostly males for her.
He slides into the ring and stares out into the crowd, oblivious to the fact that he's about to be in a match.
Vince Howard: Introducing his partner, weighing in at 219 pounds…DEVIN SHAKUR!
The opening to "Burn" by Nine Inch Nails blares out over the speaker system. The heads of the audience turn toward the entrance to see Devin Shakur step out with a determined look on his face. He stands there in his PLA uniform looking dead ahead to the center of the ring.]
#This world rejects me#
#This world threw me away#
#This world never gave me a chance#
#This world's gonna have to pay#
While the lyrics to the music are playing in the background, Devin walks down the aisle making sure to walk in a dead straight line. He does not look toward any direction other than straight at the ring. His hands are calmly at his side and he is walking with military like precision.
#I don't believe in your institutions#
#I did what you wanted me to#
#Like cancer in the system#
#I've got a little surprise for you#
Once Devin reaches ringside, he walks to the left over towards the stairs. He stands at the base a fast second before walking up the stairs with a quick motion each time. Devin then takes a step on the apron before entering the ring in between the top and middle ropes. Devin then stands in the corner and waits for the match to begin.
DING! DING! DING!
Chainz steps in front of Devin Shakur, putting a hand into his chest indicating that Shakur won’t be starting the match. Munson Monsoon steps forward from his partner, causing Lavelle to exit the ring. The two big men circle around one another, trying to get a feel for one another. After five seconds they come to the center of the ring in a lock up. Chainz, with the obvious power advantage, backs Munson into the corner. The referee demands a clean break from Chainz, who surprisingly gives him one. Wasting no time, Chainz goes in for a kill punch, Munson ducks underneath, spins around, catches Chainz in the forehead with a right hand, a second, a third, and a fourth before delivering a kick to the midsection. Munson grabs Chainz by the arm, shoots him into the ropes, Chainz reverses it, Big Bear off the ropes, Chainz attempts the boot, Big Bear catches the foot, winds up his elbow and slams it into the side of Michael Sloan’s head. Chainz, stunned, stumbles back, Munson charges forward, but gets a knee to the midsection for his troubles followed by a double ax handle.
Nick: Chainz maybe the strongest one in PRIME so I don’t think Munson is going to get far with that approach.
Chainz lifts Munson up like a rag doll, backs him into the corner, winds his right arm up and absolutely obliterates the chest of Big Bear with a knife edge. Chainz grabs the right arm of Munson, pulls on it, runs backwards, and lets the momentum of Big Bear collapse him into the buckle. Chainz comes in for a body splash. Big Bear moves, bounces off the opposite side ropes and plants a clothesline into the sternum of Chainz. This stumbles the big man, but not enough to take him down. Lavelle makes the blind tag. The two start clubbing Chainz with rights and lefts all over the body, while Shakur barks at the referee about the double team. They whip Chainz into the ropes, both rush ahead, and both connect with big dropkicks that send Chainz back into the ropes. After seeing this fail, both once again go forward and nail a double clothesline. Chainz flips over the ropes and lands on the floor.
Nick: I don’t think that’s going to make Chainz all too happy once he gets back in there.
Richard: He’s gonna kill someone…IN THE
Crowd: FACE!
Big Bear, in a show of innovation, lifts his partner up high into the air for a military press, walks over to the ropes, and drops him on top of Michael Sloan. Much to the chagrin of Big Bear, Sloan manages to catch Lavelle in mid-air. Using the quick wit, Big Bear runs off the ropes, bounces back, plows through the ropes, and connects with a suicide dive that sends both Chainz and Lavelle over the railing into the front row.
"RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"
"PRIME THAT SHIT! PRIME THAT SHIT! PRIME THAT SHIT!"
Nick: A man of his size is not supposed to be able to do that. This crowd is going ape bananas now, listen to them.
"APEBANANASRAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"
Shakur puts a mental note down in his notepad that white people really can jump. On the floor Big Bear is shaking the cobwebs loose, half not able to believe that he actually just did what he did. Lavelle lifts Chainz up, slams his head into the railing, backs up, charges forward and delivers a nasty Yakuza kick that sends Chainz stumbling backwards. Big Bear reaches up, grabs Chainz around the neck, and pulls straight down, sending the top part of the back into his knee. Lavelle charges forward at Chainz, jumps up onto a chair, and propels himself forward with a jumping superkick into the nose of Chainz. This sends the giant back over the barricade.
Nick: This is just a beating. Shakur isn’t over there to help.
Richard: Well he was told not to help but this is bullshit.
The teammates each grab an arm on Sloan and roll him into the ring. Lavelle hops up onto the apron, springboards up to the top rope, backflips in the air and connects with a shooting star press on Sloan. Cover!
ONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-
Chainz kicks out! Lavelle quickly goes back to work, stomping on the face. Tracy is now showing legitimate concern because Chainz is busted open from the nose. Lavelle lifts Chainz up, slams an open hand into his chest, another, and a third before whipping the giant into the ropes. Lavelle springboards up to the second rope, back flips, gets on the shoulders of Chainz, back flips over, and plants him with a reverse hurricanrana. Lavelle goes over to Big Bear and makes the tag. Munson enters the ring, lifts Chainz up to his feet, shoves him back into the corner, goes up on the second rope and holds his fist high in the air for the crowd, indicating it’s ten punch time.
"RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"
"ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! FIVE! SIX! SEVEN! EI-OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"
The OHHHH was courtesy of Devin Shakur delivering a snap kick just above the head of Chainz into Big Bear’s stomach. Chainz pushes out of the corner, holds onto Big Bear, and drops him in the middle of the ring with a spinebuster. Chainz walks over to his corner and makes the tag to Shakur.
Nick: Here comes the emo douchebag! DA, DA, DA, DUN! DA, DA, DA, DUN!
Shakur enters the ring, goes over to Big Bear, brings him up to a vertical base, delivers two knee strikes to the sternum, straightens Big Bear up and absolutely levels him with an elbow strike. Big Bear reels backwards, enduring Shakur’s front kick to the chin, a shin kick to the right leg, and finally a back kick to the abdomen. Shakur bounces off the ropes, comes back at Big Bear and connects with a Yakuza kick that collapses the PRIME newcomer into his corner. Pierce Lavelle reaches over and makes the tag, giving Big Bear a rest.
Nick: Rematch from Culture Shock right here!
Lavelle hops over the ropes and the two longstanding rivals immediately go into a striking contest. Lavelle clubs Shakur with a right, left, right, left, Shakur with an elbow shot, shin kick, Lavelle with a rib kick, open hand chop, right left, right, left, Shakur with a straight right, shin kick, back kick, right elbow strike, left elbow strike, forearm, knee strike, attempted haymaker, Lavelle ducks, Shakur gets a European uppercut, headbutt, knee strike, Lavelle catches a kick to the hamstring, left, right, right, left, right, right, rib kick, back kick to the midsection, and finally a headbutt to send Lavelle down to the corner. Shakur bounces hard off the ropes, charges forward, and plasters a front dropkick to Lavelle’s face, making him roll out of the ring to the floor.
Nick: For all of Devin Shakur’s awkwardness, people overlook the fact that he has a well developed martial arts background.
Big Bear drops down to the ground to check on his partner, who is hearing the count from the referee. Shakur castigates the referee by asking him where that count was earlier? Lavelle takes a second to collect himself before rolling back into the ring. The two combatants go in for a lock up. Lavelle kicks Shakur in the midsection, hooks the head, and quickly falls down to connect with the DDT. Lavelle rolls Shakur over, mounts him, and delivers rapid fire headbutts to the Reject of PRIME. The referee attempts to get Lavelle off of the former Intense Champion, but to no avail as the rights and lefts start to pour into Shakur’s head. After fifteen punches Lavelle brings Shakur up, shoves him back into the corner, bounces off the ropes, and connects with a jumping body splash. Shakur stumbles out to the middle of the ring. Lavelle gets up to the second rope, jumps off, hooks the head of Shakur, and plants him down with a bulldog stunner. Lavelle turns Shakur over, cover!
ONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-
Shakur with the kick out! Lavelle yanks Shakur up to his feet, smacks the taste out of his mouth, bounces off the ropes and attempts a spear, Shakur counters with a leg sweep that sends Lavelle into his corner. Big Bear makes the tag, thus preventing Shakur from getting any offense. Big Bear comes into the ring, grasps a hold of Shakur around the throat, lifts him up high in the air, walks around the ring with him, jumps and plants the Reject down with the chokeslam! Big Bear goes for the cover one more time.
ONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-
Shakur once again refuses to fall. Big Bear grabs Shakur by the hair, gives him a right to the face, spins him around, hooks Shakur around the waist, lifts up and falls backwards to connect with a German suplex. Big Bear drags Shakur back up, attempts another one, but instead receives a back kick to his package. Shakur goes over to his corner and makes the tag to Chainz. Chainz plows into the ring, delivering a knee lift to Big Bear that drops him face first into the canvas. Chainz lifts Big Bear up, forearms him straight in the head, sending him back into the ropes. Chainz grabs Big Bear by the right arm, spins him around, and delivers a short arm clothesline. Chainz yanks Big Bear up by the throat, pie faces him back into the ropes, and headbutts him once the velocity brings Big Bear forward. Chainz delivers another headbutt, knees Big Bear in the midsection, hooks him around the waist, spins around 180 degrees, flips Big Bear over the ropes and down on the floor with a release belly to belly suplex.
Nick: I think the violence is about to be turned up now.
Chainz drops down to the ground and starts to stalk Munson. Big Bear, trying to get away long enough does not see Devin Shakur drop from the apron, back up, run forward, and plant a front kick into the middle of his back. Chainz manages to grab Big Bear, flip him over, and hits another release belly to belly suplex. Big Bear is howling in pain from having his back slam up against the ring post.
"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO"
Nick: Dear God that was sick! Big Bear might have a broken back from that.
Chainz drags Big Bear by the legs toward Shakur. The crowd is giving the two heels huge white heat, but it doesn't seem to be deterring either of their efforts. Chainz comes to a stop about seven feet in front of Shakur, lifts Big Bear's legs up and falls backwards, sending Big Bear catapulting into a running knee strike from Shakur. Big Bear falls down in a heap.
"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO"
Shakur lifts Big Bear up to a standing position and shoves him back into Chainz, who locks the arms behind the back. Big Bear tries to go for a low blow, but Chainz locks the leg with both of his, now rendering Munson helpless before the onslaught of the Reject. Shakur delivers a side kick to the ribs, snap kick to the sternum, elbow strike to the head, spinning back kick to the ribs, and finally a straight right hand that would knock out Muhammad Ali. Chainz reinforces his hold while Shakur backs up to the apron, measures Big Bear, charges forward and drills him with another Yakuza kick.
"OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"
Nick: Jesus Christ, they aren't stopping! He's gonna get killed!
Richard: I told you, this is what happens when you put two violent men on the same side.
Chainz military presses the limp Big Bear over his head, pushes forward and allows Big Bear to go into the ring. Shakur gets the tag on the floor, rolls under the ring, stands up, brings Big Bear with him, grabs the neck, spins around 180 degrees, and drops down on his ass. Big Bear rolls around the ring in pain. Shakur grabs Big Bear by the right arm, drags him over the corner and tags in Chainz. Chainz enters the ring, kicks at the arm, pulls Big Bear up, keeps the arm locked, gets around the head, lifts overhead, and connects with an Exploder suplex! This is it, cover!
ONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-
"RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"
Big Bear with the kickout! Chainz looks up at the referee with a glare before head butting Monsoon in the forehead. Another pickup from Chainz leads into lifting Big Bear sideways, walking out to the middle of the ring and releasing him into a backbreaker. Chainz bounces off the ropes, leaps up into the air, and connects with the big elbow drop on the sternum. Chainz rolls over and tags in Shakur, who enters the ring and plants a quick leg drop across the throat. Shakur pulls Big Bear up, knee strikes him in the head, spins Big Bear around, gives him a reverse snapmare take over, allows Big Bear to drop down to his ass, and KILLS him in the face with a snap kick!
"OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"
Richard: He will be swallowing food through a straw for the next week, guaranteed.
"LET’S GO BIG BEAR!" *CLAP, CLAP, CLAPCLAPCLAP*
"LET’S GO BIG BEAR! *CLAP, CLAP, CLAPCLAPCLAP*
Shakur brings Big Bear over to the corner, motions to Chainz, who drops off the apron and places Big Bear's head under the ropes. Shakur lifts up the legs while Chainz hops up on the apron, walks to the other side, runs toward Big Bear, jumps in the air, and caves in his face with a knee to the forehead. An instant later, Shakur falls backwards, using Big Bear's momentum to throat him across the bottom rope. Shakur drags Big Bear to the middle of the ring and covers him.
ONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-
The Bear lives! Shakur looks up at the referee and says "Do you need Hooked on Phonics? Learn how to fucking count!" Shakur walks over to his partner, makes the tag, and exit’s the ring. Chainz re-enters, pulls Big Bear up, headbutts him in the forehead, lets Big Bear drop down to his knees, bounces off the ropes, charges ahead and connects with the boot to the forehead. Big Bear looks to be seeing Faith Hill and LeAnn Rimes in a dream…Wait, that already happened? I don’t believe you.
Nick: Chris, the match?
Oh, yeah, sorry. Chainz goes back over to Shakur, tags him in, and gives a wink over at Tracy. We suspect that they might get freaky under the ring if Chainz has his way. Shakur lifts the heap of Big Bear up, kicks him in the midsection, hooks both of the arms behind the back, lifts up, and lets Big Bear fall flat on his back.
"LET’S GO BIG BEAR!" *CLAP, CLAP, CLAPCLAPCLAP*
"LET’S GO BIG BEAR! *CLAP, CLAP, CLAPCLAPCLAP*
Richard: These two have isolated the ring to the point that Big Bear has not been able to get within ten feet of Lavelle.
Nick: I honestly do not know how much more Big Bear can take. He’s a tough guy no doubt, but he’s getting eaten alive here.
"LET’S GO BIG BEAR!" *CLAP, CLAP, CLAPCLAPCLAP*
"LET’S GO BIG BEAR! *CLAP, CLAP, CLAPCLAPCLAP*
Shakur brings Big Bear up, bounces off the ropes, and attempts a clothesline but Big Bear ducks, Shakur bounces back, attempts another one, Big Bear lifts Shakur high into the air with a back body drop.
"RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"
Shakur is stunned but nonetheless shoots back up, gets a side kick from Big Bear, a kick to the midsection, and then to the shock of everyone, Big Bear lifts Shakur upside down, holds him there a second, and drops him down with a Brainbuster DDT!
"RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"
Nick: This is the first chance that Big Bear has had to get over to the corner! Lavelle is itching to get in there now.
Richard: The great equalizer might be Chainz in this, Shakur might be a greater distance from his corner but Chainz is just as fresh as Lavelle.
Big Bear with a look of determination and pain on his face starts to crawl over toward Lavelle. Shakur tries to grab the leg but misses. The crowd rises louder and louder, anticipating the chance for Lavelle to get in this match for the first time in about five to seven minutes. Shakur rolls over to his corner, reaches up and gets a tag to Chainz. He comes charging in the ring. Big Bear so close…Chainz has the foot…BIG BEAR REACHES DESPERATELY AND GETS THE TAG!
"RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"
Nick: HERE WE GO!
Richard: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
Nick: Why the hell did you say that?
Richard: Script told me to.
Pierce Lavelle springboards up to the top rope, jumps forward, thrusts both feet forward, and lands with a front dropkick that stumbles Chainz backwards. A kip up follows, Lavelle bounces off the ropes, leaps up high into the air, and connects with an Easton Hall-esque back elbow. Chainz stumbles a second time but refuses to go down. Shakur enters the ring and attempts to deliver an elbow on Lavelle, misses, scrambles up, and is the recipient of an STO. Chainz gets behind Lavelle, hooks him around the waist, Lavelle spins around, hooks Chainz, lifts him overhead in a German suplex. Both wrestlers bring each other up. Chainz attempts an elbow, Lavelle ducks, spins around to the front, lifts Chainz up onto his shoulders, flips him vertically downward and lands the Death Valley Driver. Shakur attempts a shining wizard, but Lavelle rolls underneath, gets behind Shakur, knees him in the midsection, bends Shakur over, grabs the left thigh, the left shoulder, pulls up, spins Shakur over the shoulder, and much to the delight of the crowd drops Shakur straight down on his head with a Michinoku Driver II. Shakur rolls to the outside of the ring while Chainz gets back up to a vertical base, charges at Lavelle who ducks, delivers a kick to the right hamstring, spins around Chainz, boot to the midsection, both the arms behind the back, Lavelle lifts Chainz upside down and goes to a sit down position to complete the Tiger Driver. COVER!
ONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-
"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO"
Shakur puts the right foot of Chainz on the ropes. Big Bear comes running around the ring and manages to catch Shakur with a spear that takes the Reject off his feet. Big Bear starts to lay the pwn down on Shakur with rights and lefts. Lavelle drags Chainz to the middle of the ring, turns him onto his stomach, locks the left arm in between the legs, grasps both arms around the neck and pulls back, effectively putting Chainz in a Crippler Crossface.
"RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"
Nick: Chainz is trapped here! Will he give it up?
Big Bear is pummeling Shakur against the apron with rights and lefts, preventing him from being able to get in and break up the submission. Chainz is shaking his head no while Lavelle continues to apply more pressure on the neck. Chainz moves his massive body over closer toward the rope, dragging the unwilling Lavelle with him. Big Bear headbutts Shakur into a heap on the floor with the approval of the crowd as his blessing. Big Bear rolls into the ring under the bottom rope, looks at the situation before him, sees that Chainz is using his legs as a means of movement, walks over to them, sticks his right foot in between, twists the legs, lifts up, and sits on the big man’s back.
"YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAH"
Nick: Double submission! Chainz has no where to go now!
Richard: Quick Tracy, have a nip slip or something!
Since we’re on the subject of Tracy, she’s frantically searching for some way to get Chainz out of this hold. Chainz is using all of his muscle to try and move about five hundreds pounds about ten feet, but he’s only getting inches rather than feet. Shakur has blood pouring down his forehead from the brutality of the match, and it doesn’t look like Lavelle nor Big Bear are going to relinquish their respective holds anytime soon. It is now that Tracy has a moment of genius, walks over to where the time keeper is, grabs his bottle of water, undoes the cap, walks back over to Shakur, and pours it over his head in an attempt to wake him up. After encountering the first drops, Shakur uses his arm to shield the rest of the water and starts to crawl over toward the ring.
Nick: Chainz still refusing to go down here, but his muscles have to be on fire!
Richard: Use the power of Bobby Boucher! JOO CAN DO IT! JOO CAN DO IT ALL NIGHT LONG!
Nick: …
Lavelle wrenches as hard on the neck as humanly possible, while Big Bear pulls as far back on the legs as he can. This almost looks like a awkward version of a bow and arrow. Chainz balls his one remaining arm into a fist, pushes up, and is almost able to get Big Bear off his back. The referee is still all up in his face, constantly asking if he wants to give it up. Shakur re-enters the ring, rushes to Lavelle, and lambastes him with a snap kick to the side of the head. Before Big Bear can react, Shakur bounces off the ropes, charges at him, jumps up, and connects with a reverse shining wizard, effectively breaking the hold.
Richard: Chainz might only be able to kill four people once the show is over after that.
Nick: Wow, what a shame.
Shakur pulls Lavelle up to a vertical base, slugs him with a European uppercut, delivers an elbow strike, backs Lavelle up, Irish whips him into the ropes, Lavelle bounces back, Shakur charges forward, acts like he is going for a kick, but drops the fake at the last second, and connects with the Reverse Evolution Theory punch to the throat. Lavelle collapses in a heap, Shakur drops down for the cover!
ONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
Big Bear with an elbow off the top ropes on the ribs of Shakur! He rolls off in massive pain, giving Big Bear the opportunity to cover him!
ONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-BOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Chainz with another kick to the groin! Big Bear goes off in a heap like last week, but Chainz does not go for the cover this time. Instead, he brings Big Bear up to a standing position, clubs him in the forehead with a right, Irish whips him into the ropes, charges forward, grasps Big Bear around the waist, spins him around in the air, and drops him with the spinning spinebuster. Not wanting to waste any time, Chainz yanks up Big Bear, hooks him around the waist, lifts upward, and drops him down in a powerbomb! Chainz goes for the second powerbomb…But meets a low blow from Lavelle! Lavelle grabs Chainz around the waist, lifts backwards, and connects with a German suplex into a pin! COVER!
ONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-
Shakur with the save! He gets atop Lavelle and starts to rearrange his face with rights and lefts, not holding back at this critical point in the match. The referee attempts to get a break but Shakur shoves him out of the way. Lavelle attempts to bring Shakur down in a pinning predicament, but Shakur grabs a hold of the legs, folds Lavelle up, and places his knees down on the shoulders.
ONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-
Kickout! Big Bear bounces off the ropes behind Shakur, rushes in like a bull, Shakur turns around, CHUMP B-Shakur splits his way out of it! Big Bear bounces off the ropes one more time, Lavelle delivers a snap kick to the back of Shakur’s head…CHUMP BUSTER FROM MUNSON! COVER!
ONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-
CHAINZ WITH AN ELBOW FOR THE SAVE! Lavelle goes to work on the big man, pounding him with all the available energy. Lavelle and Big Bear both bring Chainz up to a standing position, whip into the ropes, Chainz comes to the center of the ring, Lavelle drops down on all fours, Chainz trips him over him, Big Bear grabs the head, swings around 360 degrees…BIG TIME TORNADO DDT! COVER!
ONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-
KICKOUT! Lavelle rolls to the outside of the ring, quickly ascends the top rope, measures Chainz, jumps forward, flips 450 degrees in the air and comes down with the splash! Big Bear bounces off the ropes and nails a leg drop right across the bridge of the nose! COVER AGAIN!
ONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-
SHAKUR SAVES IT! Lavelle kicks him to the outside of the ring and looks over at his partner. Lavelle points over to the top rope, Big Bear nods and goes to the apron, climbs up the ropes and waits on his partner. Lavelle lifts Chainz up to a vertical base, rakes the eyes, kicks him in the midsection, lifts him up into the air, walks over to where Big Bear is and positions Chainz so that his front is facing Big Bear.
Nick: Uh oh! This is not going to end well for Chainz!
Big Bear positions himself on the top rope and JUMPS OFF…CHUMP BUS-
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
SHAKUR LOW BLOWS LAVELLE! Chainz collapses on top of him and rolls off, taking all of the gas out of Lavelle. Big Bear misses completely and eats canvas. Shakur grabs a hold of Big Bear, hooks him up in a Muay Thai grapple, knee strikes him once, twice, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, and ten times! Shakur steps back…ROUNDHOUSE KICK! Big Bear is about to fall down to the mat, but Shakur grabs a hold of his right arm, kicks him in the midsection, locks both of the arms behind the back, lifts Big Bear upside down, jumps up into the air, spins 360 degrees and drops Big Bear on his head!
Nick: SCREWDRIVER CONCUSSION! COVER!
ONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
DING! DING! DING!
Nick: What a match that one was!
Richard: My head was bout to splode from all the potential pins there.
Vince Howard: The winners of the match, DEVIN SHAKUR AND CHAINZ!
The Laws of the Tag Division
The boos of the crowd are readilly apparent, because it displays the smiling, smug visage of a man who has brought about contempt in the crowd just merely be existing. Oh, and having a literal gang of thugs do his dirty work for him at times.
The Codemaster.
As the camera zooms out from the Codemaster's smiling face, we see the rest of his "gang". El Janito is by his side, holding a microphone to the Codemaster's face. The Falk Brothers are in the background, with Robert Falk using his meaty hands to play the role of a sparring partner to his riled-up brother, Scott. Alexandria isn't too far, herself, as she's busy adjusting her clothes to more comfortable levels of tolerance. Beef and Steve are filming Alexandria adjusting her clothing, because they think it's hot.
Coral Avalon is standing next to the Codemaster, holding his newly won PRIME Tag Team Championship over his shoulder. And incidently, the Codemaster has his around his waist. Like a normal person should.
Codemaster: Brothers. Sisters. Bizarre mutant hybrids.
Boos.
Codemaster: Like any good Fire Emblem master, we... the few, the mighty... stood tall last week against the many spawn campers that stood before us. We etched our epic names into the Stage of History, and walked out of Little Rock with about twenty additional pounds of gold. We... are the PRIME Tag Team Champions. We... are the Blue Rogues.
More boos. Really, I'm only giving these line breaks so this stuff is easier for you humans to read.
Codemaster: And now that the injustice wrought on us by SOME people...
The Codemaster takes a glance at Avalon, much to Avalon's annoyance.
Codemaster: ...has been rectified... we are back on track. As your tag team champions, it is our job to bring order to the chaos that is the tag division of PRIME. In order to do this, I have prepared a small list of changes that will need to be made to the division. Alex, if you don't mind.
Alexandria walks over, having finished the adjustment of her clothing, and hands the Codemaster a literal SCROLL. I am not even kidding, she just gives him one of those ancient scrolls they might have used in Roman times. The Codemaster smirks, and then opens up the scroll to the bewilderment of Coral Avalon.
Codemaster: Hear ye, hear ye. I, the Codemaster, shall hereby state the new laws going into effect here in the PRIME Tag Team Division. A-HEH-HEH-HEM. THE FIRST LAW! Thou shalt lord over the tag team championships.
The Codemaster smiles, unstraps his title belt, and puts it on his shoulder simply to give attention to the fact that he has it.
Codemaster: THE SECOND LAW! Thou shalt not disrespect the champions. That's us, people. We're the Pokemon League champions. We beat the Elite Four of Kanto, Hoenn, Johto, AND Shinnoh. Disrespect us, and I'll make my Metagross one-hit KO you with an Earthquake, and I'm damn sure aware that none of you freaks know Levitate or are a flying type. Jerks.
Coral Avalon doesn't know what the hell Codemaster's talking about, but Beef nods sagely, as he himself is a self-proclaimed Pokemon master.
Codemaster: THE THIRD LAW! Thou shalt recognize the Blue Rogues as champions for LIFE. Even if we lose the belts themselves, the status of tag team champions will remain tied to us. The Blue Rogues will recognize any future champions as merely... interim champions. In other words, we will ALWAYS be the champions.
The Codemaster gives a thumb up.
Codemaster: THE FOURTH LAW! We hereby declare that the other tag teams turn face immediately. Seriously. We're the big bad guys around here. It's embarassing when everyone else is trying to be big and bad too. Now, I don't know half of you freaks trying to be tag teams, but I'm pretty sure half of you can at least PRETEND to be virtuous, upstanding citizens that are ultimately taken advantage of by people like me. Yeesh.
The Codemaster sighs. He looks up from his scroll, and smirks.
Codemaster: Oh, and the FINAL LAW! We, the Blue Rogues, will INEVITABLY knock you all down.
With that, the Codemaster tosses the scroll over his shoulder after balling it up, and the resulting paper hits Scott Falk in the side of the head, annoying him.
Codemaster: Now then, if you don't mind... end this segment. Now.
And so it ends.
Mr. Hall Goes to Washington
To say that the hallway backstage at ReVolution was the wrong place to reflect on these sorts of things was to underestimate just how wrong it was. Imagine making a book depository joke at 3 P.M. on November 22, 1963. Not just too soon, but way, way too damn soon. That's pretty much the difference between "wrong" and "how wrong this is."
Easton, of course, is not going to get any peace.
Voice: Well if it isn't Easton fuckin' Hall
Easton's lips pursed and he slowly glanced over his shoulder to see Killean Sirrajin striding towards him, the 5-Star title wrapped around his waist proudly. Easton casually flipped the strap of his own belt over his shoulder, not about to be so outmatched by Sirrajin.
Easton Hall: You found me. Prizes all gone, though.
Killean rolled his eyes.
Killean Sirrajin: Easton... dude... that joke's been way played out.
Easton Hall: Guess I'm old-fashioned.
Killean Sirrajin: Got some comebacks, huh? Well, look, I just wanted to say one thing. I know what kinda game you're playing with Tyler—
Easton Hall: WHAT!?
Killean Sirrajin: --and I know I'm a marked man and all that, but you're not getting away with it.
Easton Hall: Away with what!?
Killean laughed despite himself.
Killean Sirrajin: This match being put together to rob me of my belt. I know there's something going on backstage and I know you're part of it. Quit trying to deny it.
Easton snarled, taking a step forward.
Easton Hall: Listen, Kill: if I want what you got, I'll tell you to your face I want it, and then I'll just take it. Politics? Ain't my deal. You wanna point fingers, you point 'em any direction but at me, 'cause once you do that, I'm fully prepared to snap it. And as far as your title goes, don't let me see you walk around like you're hot shit again just 'cause you got it around your waist. You mighta been the Universal champion before, but in case you haven't noticed, I'm not Wolfenden and I'm not Clyde Walkins. This is a whole new deal for you and you better hope you don't fuck up too bad.
Easton lifted his eyebrows in a challenging fashion, only for Killean to draw his together.
Easton Hall: 'Cause I don't go easy.
Easton brushed past Killean, title smacking against title as he made his way down the hall. Killean watched Easton walk by with a sour expression before shaking his head and continuing on his way.
The Blue Rogues vs. ???
Here come the boos, partially because everyone now knows that this theme is associated with the Blue Rogues, and mostly because of the fact that this is, barring Sonny Silver (who copied this habit of the Rogues, I might add!), the longest entrance in all of PRIME. After a minute of entrance, the Rogues and their entourage file out of the entryway in their usual manner. The Falks are up front, with Coral and the Codemaster taking the center, El Janito and Steve filming from behind, and Beef and Alexandria following them.
The entourage of eight enter the ring, with only Scott Falk not entering. This is because he's going over to Vince Howard and taking the microphone from him. Scott enters the ring, and is about to hand the microphone to the Codemaster.
Then the Codemaster does something that gets him automatically booed out of the building.
He turns, smiles, and gives the microphone right back to Scott.
Nick: Oh no.
Richard: Oh YES.
Nick: Censors, get ready...
Scott bends over, microphone to his mouth, and then yells out a battlecry that happens to be one of the longest continuous beeps in FX history.
Scott Falk: MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOTTTTTTTTTTTTTHHHHHHHHHHHEEEEEEEEEEEEERRRRRRRRRRRFUUUUUUCKERS!
Codemaster: ...
Coral: ...
Nick: ...
Richard: ...
Robert: ...
God: ...
Jesus: ...
Mr. Silver, Chairman of PRIME: ...
Scott Falk: ...Motherfuckers.
Scott smiles, while Coral tries to check his hearing a bit.
Scott Falk: Wow. We're in Jackson fucking Mississippi.
Cheap crowd pop.
Scott Falk: HOME OF...
Pause.
Scott Falk: ...home of...
Pause. Scott turns to the Codemaster and Coral Avalon.
Scott Falk: What the FUCK is so special about this town?! Ever since I got here, all I've had is this internal fucking desire to get the FUCK out of this shithole as quickly as humanly fucking possible!
Immense boos for the smallest member of the Blue Rogues that isn't a midget or a girl.
Scott Falk: I mean, seriously, Hurricane Katrina couldn't fucking destroy this place along with New Orleans?!
Coral Avalon went "hey!" at that. Mostly because he's from New Orleans.
Scott Falk: If it wasn't for the fact that we're out here to give you fuckers a glimpse at the majesty and awesome that are the Blue Rogues, we would already be back on the fucking Delphinus and on our way the fuck out of here. You goddamn pissants.
Even more boos.
But there is hope yet for those in Jackson, Mississippi.
Because, y'see, at that very moment, a woman is getting ready to make her first ever appearance on PRIME television.
Who could it be? Could it be Jessica Danger, wife of Coral Avalon's long time friend, Max Danger, here to team with her husband and go after PRIME tag team glory?
Probably not.
Could it be Nerva, here to make Beef scream like a little girl even MORE than usual?
Well, no, but that'd be more entertaining than what's actually going to happen.
But there is hope yet for those in Jackson, Mississippi.
Because, y'see, at that very moment, a woman is getting ready to make her first ever appearance on PRIME television.
Who could it be? Could it be Jessica Danger, wife of Coral Avalon's long time friend Max Danger, here to team with her husband and go after PRIME tag team glory?
Probably not.
Could it be Nerva, here to make Beef scream like a little girl even MORE than usual?
Well, no, but that'd be more entertaining than what's actually going to happen.
A loud, shrill voice rang out to all in attendance, horrifying everyone with its, well, general annoyingness.
????: Boy, are you guys in troooouble now!
Beef and Janito exchange horrified glances in the ring, while Scott Falk simply holds onto his microphone. Codemaster screams something profane at a Kingdom Hearts fanboy in the first row, while Coral simply questions for the umpteenth time why he ever agreed to this in the first place.
The owner of the annoying voice finally makes her presence known, to, well, no music. Sharp-eyed fans spot the French woman standing in three inch heels, a halter top, and a poofy skirt as Mary-Louise Aragonne...suer of PRIME.
Needless to say, the fans aren't quite as optimistic.
Aragonne: Monsieur Falk, I would be more careful with my choice of words, were are you. Insulting this town of paupers is one thing, but do not insult New Orleans!
Falk...shockingly, doesn't bother responding.
...
Okay, I lied, he screamed something at her about a pearl necklace. Moving right along...
Aragonne: Tonight, your tag team champions will fall before the domin-domin.....
Growling in frustration, Aragonne pulls a flash card out from her halter top, prompting groans from most of the actual, y'know, wrestling fans in attendance.
Aragonne: DOMINANCE! Hey, I got it! Go me! ...the DOMINANCE of the most powerful tand-tag team ever to arrive in PRIME!
The Codemaster, more amused with this woman's acting than with her words, casually takes the microphone from Scott's hand and shouts back at her.
Codemaster: Sister, unless Coral and I came from the future in a time machine to fight ourselves, you ain't got nobody.
The Codemaster picks at his ear a bit, before he adds.
Codemaster: Oh, and by the way, you look like you were kicked out of Onimusha 3 for being *too* French.
Aragonne: Hey! You can Oneemooshia yourself, mister! And I've had just about enough of you disparaging-hey, I remembered how to say the big word-my team! Come on guys! Show yourselves to everyone! The next PRIME World Tag Team Champions...
Wait for it...
Wait for it...
Aragonne: THE DARK EXECUTIONERS, #1 AND #2!
Silence. A few crickets chirp. Coral and Codemaster look at one another in utter disbelief. Even CORAL has to grab the microphone.
Avalon: Did you say #1 and #2? They're not from Parts Unknown by any chance, are they?
Aragonne: Like, totally mister! Oooh, you're going to get it now!
About the only people in the arena frightened are Beef and El Janito, even as the hooded, black-clad Dark Executioners make their way out to the rampway. For ease, they are each labeled with #1 and #2 respectively in white.
More crickets chirp, as Aragonne hands over the microphone to #1. What follows is an obviously overdubbed voice that sounds suspiciously like someone who's name rhymes with Lister Milver, Careman of Lime, though nothing can be proven.
Dark Executioner #1: Silence, Blue Rogues! For we have come to take your championship belts back to Parts Unknown with us! And do you know why?
Codemaster: Because you're EEEVIL?
Alexandria: Indeed...
Dark Executioner #1: NO NO NO! It is because...
Beef: ...you're dark?
El Janito: ...and you're executioners?
Steve the Rambling Communist: LAME.
Dark Executioner #1: EXACTLY! Well, minus the lame part! COME, NUMBER TWO, LET US COMMENCE EXECUTING THEM!
Scott Falk is down on the canvas.
Not because anyone hit him, but because he's fallen over from severe laughter. His laughter is the only thing piercing the embarassing silence that had followed the introduction of the Dark Executioners. Scott is the only other Rogue besides the champions who remains in the ring, primarilly because he's too oblivious to his surroundings at the moment to care.
The two masked men enter the ring, where the Codemaster immediately ambushes one of them with stomps. The other one, #2, is fortunate that Coral Avalon is at least honorable, as the former Kleptomaniac remains standing in the center of the ring while #2 gets up from sliding under the bottom rope and attempts a clothesline.
I say "attempts" because Coral, while honorable, isn't likely to let a guy named Dark Executioner #2 get any offense on him. Coral kicks DE #2 in the gut, which would normally be a setup for something, except that this guy actually sells this kick like death and falls over on the canvas, clutching his stomach in pain.
Nick: I have no words.
Richard: Neither do I, and that's REALLY weird.
Even CORAL looks confused at that.
Coral: Uh. What?
See? He's totally confused.
The Codemaster is growing bored with stomping down DE #1, so he picks him up and casually tosses him over the top rope and to the floor. Then he distracts the referee (Wesley James, who, by the way, has totally been here all this time) by telling him stories of his exploits in the Elite Four.
Wesley: I... w-what the hell is a "Level 80 Metagross"?
As the referee is being distracted, the entirety of the Blue Rogues entourage, minus that of Alexandria Malone, begins beating the crap out of the first Dark Executioner with stomps. Even Mega Job gets into it, even though they're TOTALLY weirded out about this.
Meanwhile, Coral, perhaps just wanting to put this match to an end as quickly as possible, pulls Dark Executioner #2 to his feet, and lands a flatliner. The obvious move from here, given Coral's mastery of the move, is to turn it into the Koji Clutch.
Nick: And, uh... I guess #2 is tapping out. Already.
Richard: Yes! The Blue Rogues win a hard-fought match!
Nick: Who are you trying to fool?
Richard: Uh... me, mostly.
Mary-Louise Aragonne, still standing on the entryway, can only blink at what just transpired. And she has to ask herself.
Aragonne: Uh. We won, didn't we?
No, you didn't. You stupid bitch.
A Beatdown Of Rededication
Coral Avalon stands in the corner, knowing what's about to take place but knowing that he's outnumbered 7 to 1 in the Rogues' voting. He kinda leans against the turnbuckles, getting a pretty good view about what's about to happen.
Scott Falk hands the microphone to the Codemaster, who pulls out a small piece of paper from his singlet. Yes, he had planned to wrestle while having a little piece of paper in his singlet. Come on, he's the Codemaster, did you think he's ever going to take a match like this seriously?
Codemaster: A-HEH-HEH-HEM!
Boos.
Codemaster: Brothers, sisters, and bizarre mutant hybrids... THIS is a statement from the Blue Rogues to several people that I've had on a list for quite some time. I have chosen now to unleash some of my Kratos-like anger onto the masses, in something Scott Falk suggested I do. This... is a beatdown... of dedication.
For those of you who actually remember Action! Wrestling, which I think is maybe three of you... this is an "uh oh" moment.
Robert Falk picks up Dark Executioner #1 and puts him in powerbomb position... and then just holds him there.
Codemaster: My first dedication goes out to Easton Hall... er... She Who Shall Not Be Named! God, I get those two so mixed up...
Nick: How? How do you get Easton Hall and Lindsay Troy mixed up!?
Richard: It's the massive amount of man hair.
Codemaster: Easton, I don't know if you're in the building or if you're getting your bi-yearly hair waxing at the local Jackson Bear Shaving Club, but these titles...
The Codemaster holds his championship over his head.
Codemaster: ...these titles prove that we, the Blue Rogues, could indeed beat you, again, for tag team gold. How's that taste? Bitter? That we could beat you for tag team championships, not once, but twice? I bet it tastes worse than Master Belch. Regardless, and I know Robert's probably getting bored right now, this powerbomb is dedicated to you... the ugliest of all wenches.
Powerbomb.
The best part about this powerbomb is that when Dark Executioner #1 landed, he bounced. =D
Codemaster raises his microphone to his lips again. At the same time, Scott Falk picks up Dark Executioner #2 and takes him to a corner.
Codemaster: Next up... I'd like to yell a bit at Nintendo. Nintendo, what the hell is up with "event Pokemon"? I mean, you always say that you have to "catch them all", but to do so, I have to travel to one of your stupid events just to get a Pokemon I'd need to complete my collection? What gives? How can someone "catch them all" if there's Pokemon that only people with absolutely no lives or those who have the luck of living in an area where such events take place can even hope to obtain? It's crap. This is just a pathetic way to squeeze out more money for your franchise... of which Beef and I are addicted to anyway... ANYWAY. Scott. Please dedicate whatever it is you're about to do to Nintendo.
Scott smirks, hops up onto the second turnbuckle, and delivers a picture perfect Diamond Dust on Number Two.
The Codemaster basks in his boos, which are levied upon him fairly heavilly. Eventually, they settle down and the Codemaster continues. As he continues, Robert Falk picks up Dark Executioner #1 and holds him up with his hands, waiting for the Codemaster's dedication.
Codemaster: Next up, Sony. Sony, you're a bunch of jackasses with a marketing division so pathetic that you can't even lighten the blow of your six hundred dollar paperweight known as the Playstation 3. Good job! You tried to make it into a super media center, while TRUE gamers like myself have to suffer in the wallet just to play such EPIC games as RIIIIIIIIIIIDGE RACER! It's Ridge Racer! What the hell? You know what? You get this chokebomb, just for that.
And, indeed, Robert Falk chokebombs the CRAP out of Dark Executioner #1.
Ouch.
Even the Codemaster is impressed.
Codemaster: Is he *dead*?
Robert nudges Dark Executioner #1 with his foot. When Number One's nerves respond back with a twitch, Robert turns to Codemaster.
Robert: Barely.
The Codemaster shrugs, and presses on as Scott Falk pulls Number Two to his feet.
Codemaster: Anyway. Moving on. I would like to bitch for a moment about a section of God of War that I find most annoying. Thus, I also dedicate this to Sony, but more particularly, Sony Computer Entertainment America. WHY, when sacrificing the life of a man through fire in order to progress further in your accursed Temple of Pandora, must freaking Satyrs emerge from the ground and disrupt my ability to push the cage into the fire pit? Why am I pushing this thing up a slope? And why, for the love of the Greek Gods, do the Gods even demand sacrifices in the first place? You know what, SCEA? You guys just want to frustrate me. That's why this joker over here is going to get kicked in the face. Scott?
Scott smiles, and makes with crazy arm motions.
Scott: *Bruce Lee noise* WAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!
And then Scott superkicks the second Executioner to the canvas. Yes, to Scott, the Bruce Lee noises are a NECESSITY.
Codemaster: *coughs* Hm. Now to dedicate parts of this beatdown to people I like. This will not include any of you fans, so sit down, shut up, and take notice.
The Codemaster gets booed for that.
Codemaster: The next disaster movie-themed tag move will be devoted to a man who has served as the guiding light to us in the Blue Rogues. A shining star who has captivated millions of fans around the world, much as I have, myself. His name, and you should write this down in case you forget, is MR. SILVER, CHAIRMAN OF PRIME!
MASSIVE boos.
Codemaster: And while he's not here tonight...
MASSIVE cheers.
Codemaster: ...rest assured, he is with us ALL in spirit. With every suplex, with every right hand, with every Greco-Roman Kick To The Nuts... he is with us, guiding our hands, and filling us all with his... ahem, pwn. With that said, we wish to dedicate this horrific death to his name, in hopes that he will continue to bless us with pwn for many years to come.
Robert picks up Dark Executioner #1, and places him in powerbomb position while Scott ascends to the top rope. Scott then leaps off and completes a picture perfect somersault neckbreaker on Number One, crashing him to the canvas. Scott hits the canvas with a roll before returning to his feet, while Steve gets some good shots of Number One just laying on the canvas like he was ejected from a car crash.
The Codemaster smirks.
Codemaster: You know what, guys?
Scott and Robert look at the Codemaster.
Codemaster: Do that again, this time to the other one, just to make sure the dedication properly goes through.
Scott smirks, and they start picking up the second Dark Executioner, when loud crowd reactions draw the attention of the Blue Rogues to the entryway: Two huge freaking Germans are heading for the ring.
Das Korps.
The Blue Rogues scatter.
Like dust in the wind.
Coral Avalon, not really wanting to be left alone in the ring against the nasty Germans that the Blue Rogues barely managed to defeat in a battle royale the previous week, also elects to leave.
Das Korps slide into the ring just moments after Avalon leaves, and upon seeing the ring cleared, stand at the ropes near the entryway, challenging the PRIME Tag Team Champions AND their Entourage to come into the ring.
The Codemaster thinks about it.
He turns to Avalon.
Codemaster: You. Go get them.
Coral: Get bent, Allen.
The two men of Das Korps look to the Blue Rogues, and upon realizing that they're backing out of the entryway, turn to each other.
Then they immediately head for the fallen members of the Dark Executioners. Klaus Steinhiel picks up Number One and then charges into the ropes from behind him before nearly tearing him in half with his vicious Blitzkrieg. Meanwhile, Kurt Panzer grabs Number Two and drives him to the canvas with a Howitzer. With the Dark Executioners significantly more dead than they were before Das Korps entered, the two Germans make belt motions with their hands, gesturing that the end of the Blue Rogues' championship reign is nigh.
Meanwhile, Mary-Louise Aragonne just stares blankly at the carnage that unfolded, and sighs to herself.
Aragonne: We won, there, too... didn't we?
You know what?
Just believe what you want. Idiot.
An Evening with Thomas Walczak
"Your Majesty, Honorable Representatives of the Norwegian people,
You are aware of the reasons why I could not come to your Capital city and receive personally this distinguished prize. On that solemn day my place is among those with whom I have grown and to whom I belong - the workers of Gdansk.
The voice belongs to Lech Walesa, the leader of Solidarnosc, and the first president of Poland. It is his acceptance speech for the 1983 Nobel Prize. Sitting not to far from the television with his eyes staring in awe is Tom Walczak."
This is what a true leader is. His presence is felt by all in that room as their eyes fixate on the man’s every word. Even watching this tape I feel as if I am truly in the presence of greatness. He…
Knock.Knock.Knock
Walczak: Who is it?
Voice: Mr. Walczak, it’s Faith Rodriguez. I’m supposed to interview your tonight.
Walczak: Come in.
Faith: What are you watching? Anything good?
Walczak: Good? Words cannot describe Lech Walesa. The man is a genius.
Faith: Lech Walesa? Never heard of him.
Walczak’s face is aghast as the last words leave Faith’s mouth. The thought that someone has not heard of Lech Walesa is an almost unimaginable idea.
Walczak: I’m sorry, but you’re joking right.
Faith: No, who is he?
Walczak: have you ever heard of the Bolshevik Revolution, Vladamir Lenin, Joseph Stalin, Gorbachev, or communism in general?
Faith: Of course, I’m not stupid. I learned about all of that in school.
Walczak: Okay, so let me ask you this, does communism still exist in Russia?
Faith: No, of course not.
Walczak: Have you ever thought of why that is? An institution that was in place for nearly seventy years doesn’t just disappear overnight.
Faith: I never really delved into the subject more it was just really for school, I just learned enough to get by.
Walczak: Lech Walesa brought down communism. He ended the oppression of the Polish people. Poland was once controlled all of Eastern Europe, and Walesa brought Poland back to independence back to prominence.
Faith: He truly does sound like a great man Mr. Walczak.
Walczak: There has yet to be as great a man to grace the world in our lifetime, the fact that you don’t know who he is a detriment against American society.
Faith: Well, I did not know that you felt so strongly about this. I’ll be sure to read up on him before our next meeting, but I was wondering if we could get to our interview.
Walczak gets up from his chair and turns off the television, but he seems hesitant to return to his chair.
Walczak: I don’t know if I should give you an interview now. Lech Walesa is my hero the man after whom I emulate every day that I live. To me, you not knowing who he is is a sign of disrespect.
Faith: Believe me Mr. Walczak, I meant no disrespect.
Walczak: You did say you would read up on him. I could take that as a sign of commitment. Go ahead, ask away.
Faith: Alright, you were in PRIME not to long ago, but you left on short notice, was there a reason for your disappearance?
Walczak: First of all, I was given no notice when I was thrown out, I did not leave.
Faith: What do you mean you were given no notice?
Walczak: It was sprung on me you could say. I walked out of the arena, and was heading out to my car when a couple of immigration agents showed up. They said I had an invalid visa, and that my paperwork was forged, and I was sent back to Poland.
Faith: You had to have known something was wrong. Did you go about getting your visa correctly?
Walczak: Trust me, I came over here illegally before. I had spent time in jail for it, and I knew that when I came back I would do everything correctly. I went through all of the proper agencies to get my papers.
Faith: How did they have any grounds to throw you out then?
Walczak: They didn’t. I don’t know if you know this, but Americans want nothing more than to keep all immigrants in this country down. They believe that this country and all its so called riches are meant for themselves. I was making to big of a splash in this country, and no one seemed to like it.
Faith: My parents were immigrants, and they were never thrown out of this country. In fact they ended up making a pretty good living for themselves.
Walczak: I’m sure every once in a while they let someone stay. Also your parents had you, and once you were born you were one of them an American. They can’t betray one of their own.
Faith: Isn’t that a bit of a cynical approach? How could an entire country be out for you?
Walczak: Cynical? No it’s not cynical. I was put down again and again by this country, and it happened again. How would you feel if everything you worked for was taken away from you? Then you worked your way back up to prominence, you were on the cusp of getting back everything, and then once again with no warning it was taken away again.
There is a pause as Faith seems to be pondering the question. She opens her mouth to speak, but pauses once again.
Walczak: Sounds pretty bad right. That’s my life.
Faith: Than why are you back again? Why not stay in Poland?
Walczak: AND LET THEM WIN!!!!
Walczak knocks his chair back enraged, and Faith cowers not knowing what the massive man will do next. Walczak regains his composure, and slowly picks up the chair sitting back down.
Walczak: If I just treated this like it never happened, then it would happen again. You said you took history. Isn’t the point of learning history not to make the same mistakes again, not to let it repeat itself?
Faith: I guess so, but it just seems that by coming back to the country you are making more problems for yourself.
Walczak: I came here to show everyone how horrible the American system is. How hypocritical its people are, and how mistreated immigrants are. Immigrants settled America in 1600’s, and throughout history it was immigrants that advanced this country. Without immigrants this country would be nowhere, and I am here to get people to realize that.
Faith: Umm, well thank you for your time, and I think I have enough for today.
Faith gets up and walks away as Walczak walks over to the television and resumes watching his idol.
Putting The 'Team' In, Uh...In Team. I Guess It Was Already There. Sorry.
Sirrajin is indeed confident that Fuck You will be eliminated at Overkill. Even so, nothing could change his mind about retirement now. He knows it’s finally his time.
As he gets closer, he can hear Dametreyus Fuqueiawytas talking with a lovely young lady. She was not trying to gain access to the private confines of the sky box; instead she was just playing nice to the seemingly gentle giant.
As Killean rounds the corner, the lady waves goodbye and leaves Dametreyus alone... or so he thought.
The Supreme Machine steps right in front of the bodyguard and he immediately kicks out of flirty mode and into security mode.
Dametreyus: What’s the pass phrase?
Sirrajin: The door is open, I can see Danny right there.
Indeed, Danny Ferguson looks up from the couch, sees Killean and the camera, and tries to fake like he never saw them. Dametreyus shuffles to his right to block the doorway.
Dametreyus: I said, what’s the pass phrase?
"Damnit..." Killean thought. "The slick fuck has this place locked down."
He thought for a second as Dametreyus was left getting impatient.
Sirrajin: The phrase is...
He cocks his head, looking down the opposite end of the hall.
Sirrajin: Hey, isn’t that Tony Danza?!
Dametreyus: Oh, that sorry sonofa-
He steps away from the door to get a better look down the hallway. Instead all he sees is an Italian janitor changing a trash can liner. Behind him, The PRIME Choice swiftly steps into the room. This does not make Fuqueiawytas happy at all as he angrily follows.
Sirrajin stops in front of Danny, followed very close by Dametreyus. Ferguson lifts his head from the newspaper he is browsing through and sets eyes upon his reluctant ally.
Ferguson: Oh hey there, Kill, didn’t see you come in.
Dametreyus: He snuck in boss, I’ll get rid of him.
Dametreyus moves closer to Killean, who is not happy that he is being treated like an enemy.
Sirrajin: He touches me and he’s going on Worker’s Compensation. You do offer benefits right Danny?
Killean shifts to look at both men now. Dametreyus stops his approach and looks to the movie Superstar.
Ferguson: It’s ok, Dam. You can leave PRIME’s newest retiree alone.
Ferguson waves Dametreyus off. Killean turns to look at Danny again. He is clearly annoyed at the effort he needs to put in to work with someone he really doesn’t like much.
Sirrajin: You know, I figured it would be a little easier to come and find a teammate to discuss some fuckin’ strategy.
Ferguson: Who, Legsay? She’s probably down in her dressing room if you need her.
Killean gave the Irishman a puzzled look.
Sirrajin: Huh?
Ferguson: Well who else could you mean? I mean, Charleston swam in the deep end of the pool after being warned not to and you have NEVER referred to me as any part of this team.
Danny makes quotes with his fingers to accent his point. Killean purses his lips, feeling perhaps a little bad that he hasn’t given Danny a break when he has worked to prove himself many times.
Sirrajin: Honestly, that’s kind of why I’m here. It’s kinda dawned on me that you have shown your worth to this team and... well... we need you with us.
He never thought he’d be saying it to Danny Ferguson of all people, but crazier things have happened in Killean’s life.
Sirrajin: Not to mention, I’ve announced my retirement and perhaps I’m extending the olive branch to someone who’s helped me. You’ve had plenty of opportunities to stab me in the back and you haven’t done it. That’s worth something. So I guess what I’m saying is before I retire, I’m trying to mend or build bridges so to speak.
Danny pauses for a moment, taking in the honesty and not having anything snappy to say back. He finally stands up and looks The PRIME Choice up and down.
Ferguson: You know I don’t do man hugs, right?
Killean shakes his head and turns to go.
Sirrajin: Sorry I bothered to come up her-
Ferguson: Aw, take it easy, 5-Star. I’m just kidding.
The superstar grins at his unlikely teammate as the former Uni champ slowly turns back around, dead-eyed and nonchalant.
Ferguson: That’s what teammates do, right? Don’t tell me you’re going to walk off and turn in your AARP registration form just because I busted your balls a little. Besides, I hear a nasty rumor that you and I have a common enemy.
The 5-Star champ and the former tag champ lessen the gap in the room (physically and mentally). Danny sticks out a hand and Killean shakes it.
Sirrajin: Four of them, actually.
Ferguson: Nah. Silver’s the thorn in our sides. Snow and Gamble are the speedbumps under our wheels.
Killean chuckles and nods.
Sirrajin: No shortage of confidence here, huh?
Ferguson: Of course not. They’ve got teamwork issues and you and I are reading from the same script. Besides, we’ve got a month left until you start cashing pension checks and we can’t blow any of those matches, right?
Sirrajin: I guess not. So about the match-
Ferguson: Let me ask you, real quick, before I forget: you ever thought about stunt work? A little background work? Non-speaking roles? You know, street toughs, club thugs, miscellaneous warriors, etc.
Sirrajin: Let’s worry about this match first.
Ferguson: I could call some people.
The two take a seat on two chairs in the suite as the conversation shifts to strategy. Quickly, the camera is hustled out of the room by Dametreyus Fuqueiawytas. We cut away before he’s thrown out, DJ Jazzy Jeff-style.
Jumpin' Jack Flash vs. Brandon Youngblood
Richard: Shit! Fire! I hate the Trashcan Man!
Nick: It’s not TCM, Richard, it’s his alter ago, Jumpin’ Jack Flash!
Sure enough, the self-proclaimed Sexiest Man Alive struts out, white trenchcoat flared, arms outstretched to take in the warm reception from the ladies.
Richard: It sure looks like the Trashcan Man.
Nick: It’s NOT the Trashcan Man, Richard! This is one of his many personalities!
Richard: He sure looks like the Trashcan Man. Except gay.
JJF shimmies into the ring and removes the trenchcoat to show off the full ring gear: the skintight jumpsuit slit to the navel and the massive amounts of glitter on his chest.
Nick: He’s not gay.
Richard: He’s making a striking argument to the contrary, then.
Nick: He’s a metrosexual.
Richard: He screws buildings?
Nick: I’m glad I get paid to talk to you.
Richard: Do those buildings have penises?
The Stones fade out as Flash gets checked out by the official. He blows a few miscellaneous kisses to the audience and the ladies swoon.
Nick: He’s stealing Snow’s gimmick there! The mere sight of him is causing orgasms!
Richard: Don’t get ahead of yourself, Nick. Just because YOU have to change your pants at the c-break doesn’t mean anyone else does.
"You’re now tuned in to the muh-fucking greatest..."
Earshot’s "Wait" rockets over the arena speakers and eyes turn to the ring. Eyes turn toward the entryway again, but Brandon Youngblood is already halfway down the ramp. He’s running so fast that he hits a Superman dive about four steps from the ring and slides in under the bottom rope with ease. Jumpin’ Jack Flash is leaning over the ropes, chatting with a prospective lady friend when he hears the crowd start to stir. Before he can turn around, Youngblood damn near yakuza kicks a hole in his back. The force of the blow is enough to send him up and over the top rope, straight to the floor with a worrysome SMACK!
Nick: Oh my God!
Richard: Jesus, that was SWEET.
Nick: Youngblood just jumped the gun and ambushed Jack Flash! That impact was sickening, Richard, he might be hurt!
Indeed he is, writhing around on the protective (but not that protective) mats outside. Not content with that, Youngblood slides out after him. He pushes the referee aside and yanks Flash up by his previously coiffed hair. With a roar, he whips the injured man into the nearby guardrail. Despite the incredible pain, Flash stumbles forward on impact, and Youngblood catches him, pivots and throws him overhead with a twisting release belly-to-belly. Flash hits the ring post and his body bends unnaturally against the impact before dropping in a heap. A deep gasp/cringe sound rises from the audience.
Nick: Oh sweet Jesus...
Richard: Nice way of not ripping off Joey Styles.
Nick: This is not a time to joke, Richard! Jack Flash looks seriously injured out there!
Richard: I’m not surprised. You knew Youngblood would do this.
Nick: Excuse me?
Richard: Ok, A) he lost his belt at UltraViolence to a guy who shat on him and called him a cancer.
Nick: Which he was.
Richard: Um, debatable. B), he gets in a near brawl with Easton Hall backstage at the last show, then gets caught with Winters’ superkick and loses his followup match.
Nick: So he’s going to cripple his next opponent?
Richard: C), Jack Flash’s mere existence in PRIME is an affront to what Brandon Youngblood is about. So if you were going to make a statement, wouldn’t this be about what you’d do?
Nick: No, because I have respect for the other guy, I value his health and well-being.
Richard: That’s where you and Youngblood part ways, then.
Brandon drags Flash up again and rolls him into the ring, following quickly. He stands over the man, squats and grabs him at the midsection, yanking him off the mat and throwing him overhead with a German suplex. Instead of releasing the lock, he floats over and shifts his lock, pulling Flash up and throwing him again with an exploder suplex.
Richard: Rolling suplexes!
Nick: This is an assault.
Richard: I know, ain’t it cool?!?
Once again, Brandon keeps himself close and floats over, shifting the lock to a half nelson and throwing JJF a third time. This time, instead of finishing with the suplex, he lets go and twists flash out, draping him across a knee for a backbreaker.
Flash crumples on the mat before him, and The Only Diamond In This Sport mounts him. Face-down, Jack can do nothing to defend, even if he hadn’t been beaten to the brink of consciousness or defense. Youngblood takes his time, palming the top of Flash’s head with one hand and lifting it up for a vicious crossface blow with the other arm. Two crossfaces per arm and he lets the head drop. Grabbing the prone opponent by the trapezius muscles for balance, Youngblood plants his forehead on the back of the neck and hops up to a front bridge. He kicks his legs up in the air, then tucks them and SLAMS them down on the small of the back.
Nearly the entire crowd reacts in horror. Jumpin’ Jack howls in pain.
Nick: There is a problem with this man! He jumped Jack Flash! He’s jeopardizing the career of a man who didn’t even get a fair shot at the match!
Richard: The early bird, Nick...
Nick: That doesn’t even make sense! Youngblood blindsided him before he even knew what was going on!
Richard: Sometimes you’ve got to break a few eggs...
Nick: Don’t. Just...just stop.
Once again, Flash is dragged, this time to the corner. Youngblood heaves him up to a near-standing position against the turnbuckles, pulls apart the already-expanded neckline of the amazing technicolor jumpsuit, and drills JJF’s chest with a knife-edge chop!
A few fans can’t help but "Whoo!" at the sound, but most stand in shocked silence or angry defiance of the mugging they are witnessing.
A second chop draws the same reaction.
Nick: He prides himself on being a clinician, on surgically taking apart his opponents. What good do the chops do? He’s been working the back!
Richard: Sometimes you just do it for fun, man.
Nick: That’s just mean.
Richard: I’m giddy.
A third chop and the results are visible - deep red welts, matching the red of Flash’s attire, rise up on the skin. Brandon leaves it at just the three. He takes an arm and pulls the man forward into an Irish whip. Jack stumbles forward, but Youngblood doesn’t release the whip, instead pulling the current and future TCM back into him in a short-arm clothesline motion. Instead of the clothesline, though, he scoops the man up on his shoulder.
Quickly, Youngblood turns back to the ropes and charges in, slamming Flash back-first into the turnbuckle. Then the Only Diamond In This Sport turns in a fluid motion and slams the man down hard with a spinebuster, the impact of which is borderline gross.
Richard: Oklahoma Stampede plus Spinebuster equals AWESOME.
Nick: With those math skills it’s a wonder you got into commentary.
Richard: I’m the Good Will Hunting of color commentary!
Nick: Eventually you’ll realize that isn’t a compliment.
JJF is pulled out to the center of the ring, and it seems like the end is imminent. However, instead of just applying the Gridlock...Brandon stands him up.
Flash is nearly motionless, but Brandon takes particular care to make sure he is supported. Not for any sort of regard for the man’s safety, but rather because he really wanted to make this part hurt.
As soon as Flash is up, Youngblood takes off for the ropes. It looks like the Sexiest Man Alive is going to topple right over, but Brandon rushes in with the assist before that happens. With an outstretched hand and a planted knee, Youngblood DRIVES Flash down with a running STO into a backbreaker.
Right after the impact, he spins underneath Flash and locks in the katahajime, rolling with his momentum until he comes up in the seated position.
Richard: Gridlock, babay!
Showing flashes of his punishment-absorbing alter ego, Flash refuses to give up, fighting the hold momentarily and not tapping. The sheer amount of punishment he’s taken dictates that this can’t continue for much longer, but the fact that he even tried to fight it to begin with is an insult to Brandon Youngblood.
An insult that won’t be taken lightly.
As soon as he hears Flash say "no" to the ref in response to the appropriate question, Youngblood’s temper flares. Immediately he laces his legs around the midsection, "getting the hooks in" as it were, taking him from a seated position to a mounted one. Then he drops his body weight to the side of the untrapped arm, twisting Flash’s whole body and tripling the pressure on his back and spine.
The tap, of course, is academic.
WINNER: Brandon Youngblood
Nick: Thank god this is over.
Richard: Does that qualify as gay-bashing?
Nick: You’re a bastard. Just like Brandon.
Richard: Please, you flatter.
Youngblood releases the modified Gridlock immediately. He stands over his broken opponent, watching him. Finally the referee intervenes and pushes him away to check on Flash’s condition.
Brandon stalks the ring a bit, ignoring the boos and hatred being cast down upon him. He finds a camera on the apron and approaches, face flushed, nostrils flaring. Without a word, he stares into the camera, THROUGH the camera, with a look so furious and disturbing that they have no choice but to cut it off and move elsewhere.
Retaliation
Being within arms reach of the Universal Title gives Winters a sense of superiority over the rest of the locker room to boot. Once this mayhem with Shakur, Dusk, and Lavelle brings itself to a close there will be no denying him a shot at the belt. Winters flips his bottle of water in the air, stands in front of his locker room door, attempts to push it open, and finds that it is jammed shut.
Winters: The hell?
Winters once again tries to open the door but to no avail. Winters follows this up by putting his shoulder into the door, not receiving a reaction from the door. It is at this moment Winters puts the bottle of water down, backs up about fifteen feet, charges forward, and for some reason lets out a ninja scream.
Winters: WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
BIG TIME KICK COMING UP…
Unfortunately for Winters, he does not see the little white string that goes from his room to an adjacent room. The string makes a small movement so when Winters karate kicks the door…
KAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAABOOM!
The door comes flying off and Winters immediately covers himself up to prevent any of the debris from coming into contact with his gorgeous mug. People in the surrounding area look out to see that yes, a door has indeed just exploded on live PRIME television. It’s the second funniest thing to happen since FU got stuck in an elevator with the Blue Rogues…They should have lit up not smoked cigarettes…Oh crap, I just spoiled a future segment plot line.
Oh right, the explosion.
Winters dusts himself off and walks into his locker room to see absolute destruction. There is no chance of him being able to recover anything inside, not to mention the fact that his bottle of water is now ruined.
Winters: Alright…Who did this?
"Funny thing about being a Communist…"
Winters turns around to see Devin Shakur standing in front of him with full on camouflage gear: The green hat, pants, coat, backpack, rifle, all that shit.
Shakur: They know how to play mind games just as well as anybody else.
Winters: …
Shakur: Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go find Nixon and beat his ass for invading Cambodia. WE’RE TAKING BACK SAIGON BITCHES!
Shakur turns around and walks out of the scene
"ONE TWO THREE FOUR, ONE TWO THREE FOUR, ONE TWO THREE FOUR"
Out
Dropping Some Knowledge
GET THE FUCK UP
SIMON SAYS GET THE FUCK UP
GET THE FUCK UP
SIMON SAYS GET THE FUCK UP
"Simon Says" by Pharoahe Monch blasts over the loudspeaker, and Tom Walczak slowly makes his way down the ramp. He is immediately met with resounding boos, as the fans have seemingly not forgotten the contempt they once had for this man.
Nick: Tom Walczak is coming to the ring. He wasn’t scheduled to make an appearance at this time.
Richard: Nick, the one thing that you seem to forget is that he’s Polish, and I don’t know if you know this, but that means he’s a little bit slow.
Nick: Your knowledge of stereotypes never stops amusing me.
Walczak gets to the ring and easily climbs over the top rope. He grabs a microphone as the music dies.
Walczak: Wow, that reception truly makes me realize how much I miss this place. I haven’t been around for almost two years, but it seems that very little has changed.
Boos yet again come from the rafters, and bring a smile to Walczak’s face.
Walczak: I knew that coming out here would be a good idea. I don’t know if anyone actually paid attention to the interview I gave earlier, but it made me realize that if a fairly educated person doesn’t know who built this country than what was I to expect from pathetic uneducated pieces of shit like you would know.
Walczak pauses as once again as a cup nearly hits him, but he barely hesitates and continues with his rant.
Walczak: Now, I decided to start a weekly history lesson of sorts. You see immigration is the backbone of the American society, but you have all lost sight of that. Now we all know that Native Americans were in America for maybe hundreds of years before anyone even knew of its existence. I’m going to conduct a quick little survey here, would you please raise your hand if you are in fact Native American.
Walczak scans the arena and while insults are hurled everywhere he turns he does not see a single hand raised.
Walczak: I thought so. I also think that while no one here is Native American, no one has thought of how they actually arrived at this country. Now, let’s start our history lesson in Virginia. Its a little settlement called Jamestown.
The lights dim in the arena and once again the Wal*Tron is the center of everyone’s attention. On the screen appears a map showing Jamestown.
Walczak: This just happens to be the first permanent residence in what would later be known as the United States, and it was settled by?........Yes, the English. Now, I don’t know, but last time I checked England was not, and is not in the United States. I don’t want to give you too much information to handle, so we’ll just end it here for today, but just think about how the foundation of American Society was in fact started by immigrants.
129 Hype
Blair: Ladies and Gentlemen, last week, I announced that ReVolution 129… one week from tonight… would be a special three hour edition, entitled "Champions Collide", referencing a first ever PRIME match that will see the 5 Star, Intense, and Alias Champions square off in a triple threat encounter.
Blair smiles and takes a short breath, then continues.
Blair: I also promised that more matches would be announced right here tonight, and in addition to the Ferguson/Silver rematch that Lisa Tyler mentioned earlier in the evening… I’m proud to announce a huge ‘Co-Main Event match" that will feature the reigning Universal Champion, Nova, defending his title against ‘The Queen of the Ring’, Lindsay Troy.
The smile on Blaine’s face grows larger as he hears the fans in the arena pop, quite loudly, for the announcement.
Blair: Also, the Tag Team titles will be on the line when the current champs, The Blue Rogues, put their newly won gold on the line against the team that fell just short of victory in the Battle Royal… Das Korps.
The crowd continues to show their approval.
Blair: Other matches will be announced as the week goes on, and I hope all of you will join us next Wednesday from New Orleans as PRIME kicks off its new era on FX! Thank you, and Goodnight.
Danny Ferguson & Killean Sirrajin vs. Tony Gamble & Jason Snow
Nick: The former tag team champ and the current 5-star champ are bringing down the house! They’re going to get some pay back for UltraViolence here tonight, live on ReVolution!
When finally they enter the ring, Sirrajin removes his championship and thrusts it into the air, giving the crowd another golden opportunity to pop. On the other side of the ring, Danny Ferguson checks his reflection in a nearby camera lens, and then flashes the home viewers his pearly whites.
A few moments later, the music dies down, and the camera shifts back to the curtain...
"You think I’m funny? Funny how?"
"Better Than You" by Metallica begins to play and it doesn’t take Tony Gamble long to appear to a chorus of boos, his head lowered and his eyes turned up. His perma-grin is smeared across his face as he stretches his neck out along the walk down toward the ring.
Nick: Where’s that neck brace at now?.
Richard: The man’s a true professional, Nick. He’s going to fight through the pain!
Nick: Well, I can’t argue that the Grin is a hell of an athlete. Had a few breaks gone his way at UltraViolence, he might well be the Universal Champion right now.
Before he gets the entire way to the ring, "Right Next Door to Hell" pumps through the arena and within seconds, Jason Snow strides through the curtain, his PTC Unified Championship around his waist and the PTC IG Championship draped over his shoulder. He engages in a few small arguments on his way to the ring.
Nick: If you ask me, Richard, this is a tell tale sign. Killean Sirrajin and Danny Ferguson came out together - united. Jason Snow and Tony Gamble each came out to separate entrance music. I can’t help but believe there’s a rift between the members of FU, or at least between Snow and the others.
Richard: Would you relax? They just wanted to give these peasants the pleasure of seeing them one at a time!
Be that as it may, as Snow walks up the steps to the ring apron, he dramatically teeters at the top, flopping this way and that, and then tumbles off the ring apron down on his side. There, the Unified champ clutches his knee in obviously fake agony.
Richard: OH MY GREATNESS!
Nick: ...you’ve got to be fucking kiddin’ me. What’s he trying to pull here?
With a great mock effort, Snow pulls himself up by the ring apron, grabs the second rope and pulls himself up onto the canvas. From there, he crawls beneath the bottom rope toward the center of the ring, where he spends a great deal of time panting and clutching his "injured" left knee.
Sirrajin and Ferguson exchange tired looks, and even Tony Gamble looks both frustrated and confused. He moves in and slaps Snow on the shoulder, trying to get the Villain to stand up, but Snow will have none of it. Instead, he waves Gamble off and calls for a microphone.
Nick: Whatever this jack ass is trying to do here, I advise Killean and Danny to be very cautious.
Richard: Where’s your sense of humanity, Nick!? There’s a Supreme Being injured in the middle of the ring!
With exaggerated effort, Snow climbs to his feet, and then hops over to the ring ropes to support his weight. A nearby ring-hand rushes him a mic with the audience booing all around him.
Jason Snow: Damn it, I demand to know who greased those ring steps! I MIGHT HAVE BEEN KILLLED!!!
The boos grow louder, and the most frustrated man in the arena might be Tony Gamble, but Snow pays him no mind. He turns to Ferguson.
Jason Snow: I’ll bet it was that ginger bastard, knowing that he has no hope of defeating me in the ring. He tried to defeat me with treachery! Damn you, Ginger Bastard!
Ferguson shakes his head and leans on the turnbuckle, obviously anxious to get the fight started, but apparently, the Villain isn’t ready just yet.
Jason Snow: Because of you and your underhanded tactics, there’s no way I can compete tonight. By G-greatness, I may need surgery! My career might be over!
Jason Snow gets a pop for that statement, and he glares at the crowd as a whole in return. After allowing them to quiet themselves, he shakes his head and goes on...
Jason Snow: So I guess the match can’t happen, since obviously, my midget friend here can’t possibly hope to conted with the likes of these two inferior bastards.
Tony Gamble’s eyes narrow on Jason Snow, but before he can interject, the Villain rolls right along with a hand outstretched in Gamble’s direction.
Jason Snow: Unless... I suppose... a replacement can be arranged...
Slowly, menacingly, a grin fades itself onto Jason Snow’s face...
Meanwhile, backstage...
Michael Sloan sits in his locker room, staring at a television screen while Tracy attends to the many scrapes and bruises he received after his own match, earlier in the night. Both of their mouths are gaping wide open.
Chainz: I hope he’s not thinking about...
Meanwhile, in the ring
Jason Snow: Peasants and plebes, wenches and whores - I give you...
Meanwhile, backstage
Chainz: ...son of a bitch...
Meanwhile, in the ring
Jason Snow: Chhhhaaaaaaaiiiiinnnnnzzzz!!!
Meanwhile, backstage
Chainz: I can’t fucking believe this!
Michael Sloan fires up out of his seat, his face contorted in anger. He throws an icepack against the wall and it explodes into tiny frozen pellets. Nearby, Tracy is still staring at the screen.
Tracy: There’s no way you can go out there - you’ve already had a match.
Chainz: That motherfucker...
In an attempt to calm her fiancé, Tracy takes him by the hand and spins him around. With her kind, beautiful eyes, she stares deeply into his, which might well be made of steel. She shakes her head and appeals to her fiancé...
Tracy: Don’t go out there.
But Chainz looks down at Tracy’s tiny, delicate hand in his own, calloused and weathered, and he lets out a sigh. The ring is there - the one he gave her when he proposed. For a moment, he sees nothing else.
And then he released her hand, and he walks away.
Ringside...
"For You" blasts through the arena’s soundsystem and Michael Sloan appears at the top the ramp, alone, and obviously nursing some minor injuries from earlier in the night. His eyes focus on the ring and he ignores the hateful audience around him.
Nick: I can’t believe this! Is this really going to stand!?
Richard: There was no other replacement! Mr. Silver’s not allowed down here and Nova hasn’t been seen all night! It’s got to be Chainz!
Chainz walks a laser beam toward the ring while Jason Snow bails out, hobbling with melodrama all the while. Chainz fires a glare over his shoulder at him before stepping up onto the ring apron and then through the ropes, where Tony Gamble steps in to talk a few things over. Chainz will have none of it - he waves Gamble off with eyes focused only on Killean Sirrajin and Danny Ferguson.
The referee looks more than a little confused, but when no one comes out to object, he signals to the Time Keeper to ring the bell.
Nick: I can’t believe this is being allowed to continue!
Richard: It’s a well known fact that Blaine Blair can only have a backbone once per night.
In the ring, Chainz steps out, leaving Gamble the legal man on FU’s side. On the other side, it’s Danny Ferguson. Outside of the ring, Killean Sirrajin points menacingly over at Chainz, and then down at Jason Snow, who’s hobbling around ringside... toward the announce table.
Richard: Ladies and gentlemen! This is a true honor! The one and only, his Greatness, Jason Snow is joining us here in the commentary booth.
Nick: ...you’ve got to be kidding me.
His comment is unheard by Snow, who is just now getting the headset on. He takes a seat next to Richard while the action gets under way in the ring. Gamble and Ferguson lock up, with Ferguson taking the upper hand and tossing Gamble in the ring.
Richard: See, Nick? His injuries at Tchu’s hands are obviously affecting him. If TG were at a hundred percent right now, this thing would already be over.
Snow: What in the hell are you squabbling on about? The midget? Surprisingly apt in the ring, I must say, despite his obvious disadvantages.
Gamble holds his back for a moment too long and Ferguson rushes in with a knee to his abdomen. With control clearly in hand, the former tag champ drops Gamble with a quick DDT. From there, he plants a knee into the base of his opponent’s spine. Gamble reels up, to a knee, but Ferguson smacks him back down with a baseball slide drop kick.
Nick: The fans are loving this!
Snow: The peasants know as much of wrestling as they know about Greatness!
Richard: The peasants are plebes!
Snow: Exactly.
Ferguson drags Gamble up to his feet and then over to his own corner, where he tags in Killean Sirrajin, and the Supreme Machine wastes no time sprinting across the ring and nailing Chainz with flying forearm! From there, Sirrajin immediately slides out of the ring and starts rounding the ring, his eyes glazed in purpose.
Nick: I think he’s coming for you, "champ!" It’s time for some payback for UltraViolence!
Snow: Damn it, I’m injured!
Sirrajin makes his way to the announce table and the last thing we hear from Snow is...
Snow: OH MY GREATNESS!
...before Sirrajin grips him by his throat and pulls him to his feet. Snow’s eyes go wide, and he clutches the Supreme Machine’s forearm with both hands, trying to break the deathgrip.
Nick: It’s time for revenge! Do it, Killean! Put that pompous ass right through the table!
Indeed, that seems to be what Killean Sirrajin has in mind, but before he’s able to act on the thought, he’s nailed from behind by an inverted DDT! Chainz stands over his victim while Snow puts his headset back on, wheezing.
Snow: Did you see that!? That big oaf tried to maim me! While I’m injured! He has no sense of sportsmanship! My career might have been ended! And you two did nothing!!!
On the floor in front of the announce table, the referee has interjected himself, pushing Chainz, who is not the legal man, away from Sirrajin. Chainz reluctantly backs off, but only after seeing Tony Gamble, somewhat recovered, slides out of the ring to take over.
Gamble puts the boots to the much larger man, who’s attempting to get to his feet all the while. But Gamble delivers a devastating bulldog to flatten him out again.
Snow: I know it’s baffling to see a midget with such ability. By greatness, the first time I saw the little bastard, with his stubby legs and beady eyes, I had him pegged, sure as my Superiority, as a retard.
Nick: Well, I guess we can’t count on the Special Olympics sponsoring us now...
With the count ever-rising, Tony Gamble slings his opponent into the ring and follows him with a quick cover. The referee slides into position...
ONE!
TWO!
But Sirrajin kicks out, sits up and attempts to shake out the cobwebs. Frustrated, Gamble reluctantly walks over to his partner, the sadistic Michael Sloan, where he hesitates slightly before making the tag.
Snow: Ah! Here we go! Feast your eyes on the greatest beast in all of professional wrestling.
Nick: Beast or not - the man is sick! Quite frankly, Snow, with all of your accomplishments, I can’t believe you’d even associate with that vile bastard!
Snow: If I had cared enough to pay attention to your squabbling, plebe, I might be offended by that.
Chainz circles his prey, cracking his knuckles and stretching out his neck. He then reaches down and delivers a heavy right hand into Sirrajin’s forehead and follows it up with a knee drop. Killean attempts to roll out of the way, but catching the blow full in the shoulder.
Sirrajin sits up, and then Chainz helps him the rest of the way to his feet. He attempts a short-arm clothesline, but Sirrajin manages to reverse it, and slings the Beast face-first into the turnbuckle!
Snow: Damn it, you ogre! I demand you kick the hell out of that other ogre! Now, damn it, now!
But Chainz is still worse for wear from his earlier match tonight, and is slow to recover, giving Sirrajin all the time he needs to make the tag to Danny Ferguson. Ferguson flies through the ropes and rushes his much larger opponent, and then he leaps into the air with a double axe handle smash (that’s right), but Chainz catches him mid air by his throat.
Snow: Look at the awesome power of the man! That’s why he’s on my payroll peasants.
Indeed, the strength shown by Snow’s body guard is impressive, and with ease, he turns around and tosses Ferguson out of the ring! D-Ferg crashes to the padded concrete below and writhes from the impact. Slowly, nursing his battle scars from earlier in the night and followed by the referee, Chainz makes his way through the ropes and drops down onto the floor - but by this time, Killean Sirrajin is fully recovered, and he’s flying toward the scene!
Sirrajin’s intercepted by Tony Gamble, but it makes no difference. The five-star champ drills him with a pair of right hands and then smashes his face into the ring post with such force that Gamble snaps backward a few steps before collapsing. Sirrajin admires his work for a moment, and then turns his attention to rescuing his partner, when suddenly...
Snow: It’s going... iiiiit’s going...
CRUNCH!!!
Snow: Gone!!!
Nick: NO!!!
Sirrajin’s body jerks lamp post straight, and his eyes roll back before he collapses against the side of the ring, barely conscience. Standing in front of him, and wielding a dented chair, is Jason Snow, still wearing his headset.
Nick: Where’s his injury now, Richard!? Where the hell’s his injury now!?
Snow: I can still hear you, plebe!
And then Jason Snow does the unthinkable, and clocks Nick Stuart with the same chair, crumpling the announcer onto his side, where he remains unconscious.
Richard: NOW WHY THE HELL HAVE I NEVER THOUGHT OF THAT!?
On the other side, after a thorough beatdown, Chainz pulls Danny Ferguson up and tosses him into the ring. He slithers in after him, as much as a near three hundred pound man can slither, and picks him up to finish him off.
Snow: Pay attention, plebe, you’re about to see a thing of beauty!
Richard: A thing of Greatness!
Snow: ... well... I wouldn’t go that far.
With a glare out at his hating audience, Chainz hoists Ferguson up for the first of two powerbombs. But Ferguson suddenly finds a burst of energy at the top and pops Chainz in the mouth with a forearm.
Too bad it’s not enough to stop the monster.
Chainz holds his balance and drives Ferguson down to the canvas with authority. D-Ferg’s body bounces a little, and he rolls onto his side, while Chainz shakes the stars out of his eyes.
Richard: Snow, I can’t tell you what an honor it is to be sitting here next to a truly Great competitor. The PTC Unified Champ! The Infinite Gauntlet champ! I’ve been an admirer of yours for a long time.
Snow: ...Are you one of the homosexuals?
Richard: No, I just mean, uh...
CRUNCH!!
Richard: NO!!!!
And suddenly, we don’t have to listen to Jason Snow anymore. Killean Sirrajin has recovered, for the most part, and taken the opportunity to crack the Original Villain right in his precious face, using the very same chair wielded on himself only a moment before.
Seeing this, Chainz is obligated to leave his work in the ring and go out to protect his employer, but Sirrajin is there waiting for him, and the pair begin exchanging right hands no sooner than his feet hit the floor.
Lost in all of this has been Tony Gamble, who, without warning, comes leaping into the scene and nails Killean Sirrajin with a spear from behind! Sirrajin’s knees buckle and falls down in front of Chainz. But Chainz has unfinished business in the ring, so he leaves Sirrajin to Tony Gamble and he rolls back in to finish it.
By now, Ferguson is up again, and although he’s still worse for wear, he manages a crude kick to Chainz’s stomach that does enough to slow the man down.
On the outside, Sirrajin is back up again, and fighting Tony Gamble off. He catches Gamble with three consecutive elbows and then irish whips him into the barrier! Gamble stumbles backward, and then Sirrajin drills him with a short arm clothesline.
In the ring, Ferguson has Chainz set up for a suplex.
Richard: Come on Chainz!
But instead, it’s Danny Ferguson, hoisting the very large man up and then actually holding him there for a moment, before finally dropping him down onto his back. After that, he hobbles toward the corner where Killean Sirrajin is just making his way back up onto the apron, and makes the tag.
Sirrajin enters the ring slowly, but with determination. He pulls Chainz up to his feet in hopes of delivering Supreme Justice to end it, but Chainz has other ideas, and he catches Sirrajin flush in the face with a vicious headbutt. Sirrajin stumbles back a few steps, and then Chainz nails him with a running clothesline.
Richard: Make the tag, Chainz!
And Chainz does make the tag, but Tony Gamble is in no better shape, having just now pulled himself into his corner. Still, he enters the ring and slowly makes his way over to Sirrajin, whose getting back to his feet. They collide in the middle of the ring, locking up, and Sirrajin sends Gamble off to the ropes. Upon his return, Gamble ducks the waiting clothesline, hits the opposite ropes and comes back with a flying cross-body for the cover...
ONE!
TWO!!
TH-
NO!!
Sirrajin tosses Gamble off. And rolls toward his corner, but Tony Gamble drops a leg drop on him.
Nick: Ugh... where am I?
Richard: Hush, plebe! We were better off without you!
Nick: What the hell happened!?
Gamble pulls Sirrajin to his feet, grabs him by the hair, and is about to pull off Stop Laughing at Me when Killean fires an elbow into his gut. And then another, and then a third, to make Gamble release. With momentum on his side, Killean hits the ropes and nails Gamble with a forearm that staggers the smaller man. He hits the side ropes and delivers another one! Gamble weebles... he wobbles...
Killean hits the ropes a third time and comes back looking for Supreme Justice, but Tony Gamble uses what remains of his senses and rolls Sirrajin into a power slam, making the cover in the same motion!
All the while, Jason Snow has been slowly recovering on the outside.
Nick: What’s Snow doing? Wait a minute!!
ONE!!!
Jason Snow, unbeknownst to the referee, is literally hanging his entire body weight off of Killean Sirrajin’s left foot, which is stretched out over the edge of the ring apron by about of foot.
TWO!!!
Nick: God damn it! How can these guys keep getting away with this!?
Snow remains hanging there, with both his arms and his legs hooked around Sirrajin’s foot. And then, the referee spots what’s going on. He immediately stops the count, and then he goes one step further. He points over at Chainz, and then much like a baseball umpire, tosses him out of the ringside area!
Richard: He can’t do this!
Nick: Snow just proved to everyone that he’s a fraud! And now he’s going to have to face the music!
Chainz has no choice but to oblige, and after glaring long and hard at the referee, he starts the long trek back toward the locker room.
In the ring, Killean Sirrajin’s eyes light up, and he quickly tags Danny Ferguson, freeing himself up to dive out of the ring after Snow! Snow lashes out quickly, but misses his patented Snake Eyes Super Kick when Sirrajin ducks, and then gets nailed by the Arrow on the outside of the ring! Sirrajin dumps Snow into the ring where Danny Ferguson is waiting to nail him with a scoop tombstone piledriver!!!
Richard: Wait a minute! Wait a minute! Snow’s not the legal man!
Nick: I don’t think the referee cares, Richard! I think he’s pissed that Snow tried to pull one over on him!!
And indeed, the referee is sliding into position for the count.
ONE!
Gamble is rushing over to make the save!
TWO!!
Gamble fires a boot into the base of Ferguson’s spine, breaking the count, but when he turns around, he’s nailed by Supreme Justice from Killean!
Ferguson covers Snow again...
ONE!
TWO!!
THREE!!!
It’s over!
Nick: It’s over!!
Richard: You can’t treat the PTC Unified Champion like this, Nick! You can’t!
In the ring, Tony Gamble is trying his best to pull Snow to safety while Sirrajin and Ferguson celebrate. They point at the screen, and Sirrajin clearly mouths Nova’s name, and then draws a finger along his adam’s apple.
As the PRIME logo and copyright appear in the corner of the screen, the camera cuts to somewhere unknown, where the room is dark and all that can be seen is a man in his chair. He’s holding a title belt in the crux of his arm - the PRIME Universal Championship. Against his shirtless upper body, the clear image of the scene in the ring is plastered to him, being thrown from a nearby television screen. While his face is shadowed, the man is obviously Nova, and in silence, we see him light a cigarette, watching without reaction to what’s just taken place.
Credits
Contractual Obligations
D
We Now Go Live To Lisa Tyler Being A Bitch. Lisa?
Seth and Lindz
The Neck Brace might be OverKill (cheap plug!)
The Gang
Seth
Prove Yourself
Obinna O.
Prelude to a Wedding
Mike S.
This Is Just Weird
Kris with Chris edits
Pre Match Shenanigans
Chris, Lara, Mike, with Hollan approval
Chris of Integers
The Laws of the Tag Division
If you spell my name backwards, you'd still get Renner.
Mr. Hall Goes to Washington
Obinna O.
Mike Renner & Sean Williams
A Beatdown Of Rededication
Mike Renner, who enjoys rehashing his old ideas.
An Evening with Thomas Walczak
Tom Walczak
Putting The 'Team' In, Uh...In Team. I Guess It Was Already There. Sorry.
Darryl & Matt R
Mind Over MattR
Retaliation
Chris of Integers
Dropping Some Knowledge
Tom Walczak
129 Hype
Mattchu
Dave
Results compiled and archived with Backstage V2.Back
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