PPV: PRIDE '16

Pride

No Brand Wrestling Presents: PRIDE
Live from the ScottTrade Center - Kansas City, MO

 

Welcome to PRIDE!

 

The sold out crowd of the ScottTrade Center could be heard buzzing with anticipation as the camera slowly faded in to show tuxedo clad ring announcer Brent Williams standing in the middle of the ring, mic in hand. With a big smile spread across his face, Williams spread one arm out wide as he brought the mic up to his lips with the other.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to PRIIIDDEE!” he boomed out with impressive vocal power that was easily matched by the roar of the NBW faithful.

Cutting away from the ring, the camera came to rest on NBW’s dynamic broadcast duo of Melissa Vanderart and C.G. Gaines. Quickly acknowledging the camera, Melissa turned slightly in her chair to face C.G., while he swiveled slightly to face her.

“Here we are C.G., the event that everyone has been waiting for, Pride!” Vanderart exclaimed to her broadcast partner.

“I am absolutely stoked Mel, this is going to be an epic night. Not only is every title on the line, but scores will be settled, and dreams will be crushed!” Gaines fired back with equal enthusiasm, and Mel frowned at him in return.

“You say that they will be crushed, but I think there might be a few that come true for a few of our competitors tonight, and…” she began to say until she was cut off by a very familiar entrance music hitting the speakers, causing the crowd to rain down boos.

“Wanted Man” by Rev Theory

“This is our first match of the evening, and it will be a LAST MAN STANDING MATCH for the NBW Blitzkrieg title!” Brent bellowed out to the surprised audience as the camera turned it’s attention to the stage.

“Holy cow C.G.! It looks like we’re kicking off Pride with a bang! The Blitzkrieg title match is happening now!” Vanderart said with genuine surprise in her voice.

“I heard from my inside source Mel that both Ravage and Newbludd requested to have the first match.” Gaines quickly said back before letting out a small chuckle. “I mean,  I understand Ravage wanting to just beat Brock and get things over with, maybe get home early tonight to spend time with his wonderful daughter Cassie…”

“You mean Bethany?” Mel mockingly interjected.

“Who cares what her name is!? All that matters is that in just a few short minutes her legendary daddy is going to be bringing home some gold!”  C.G. confidently said as the double doors opened on the stage before the sound of him clapping his hands in applause could be heard.

The boos intensified as Ravage strided onto the stage, with all three members of the The Handsome Man Modeling School following close behind him.

“What the hell are those three doing out here!? Shouldn’t they be getting ready for their match later tonight!?” Mel asked angrily and C.G. laughed giddily.

“What better motivation for Taylor and the boys than watching their mentor dismantle Newbludd!?” C.G. fired back.

“More like helping their mentor beat Newbludd!” Mel accused.

“It’s a Last Man Standing match Mel, there are no rules against that! And besides, maybe if Brock wasn’t such a prick, he’d have somebody other than his girlfriend to come out with him!” Gaines surmised.

Stopping briefly to glare out to the booing crowd with a sneer on his face, the former world champion then walked over to the top of the entrance ramp. Hanging his head low, Ravage appeared to be psyching himself up before letting out a roar and throwing both of his fists above his head as pyro shot off on either side of him. Standing in a row behind their boss, the HMMS made sure to get their best poses in during the fireworks.

Looking over his shoulder, Ravage nodded his head to his proteges and the four men walked confidently down the ramp.

“Introducing first, being accompanied by The Handsome Man Modeling School, he is the challenger!” Williams announced before letting a wave of loud jeers pass. “Hailing from South Dakota, and weighing in at two-hundred and thirty pounds, this is “The Savage of the Ring”...this is “RAAAVAGGEE!””

Reaching the ring, Ravage slid underneath the ropes and popped up to his feet before walking across it to climb one of the far turnbuckles. Raising his arms again, the veteran looked to be enjoying the negative reception he was getting from the fans, while underneath him his three brown nosing henchmen clapped their hands in admiration.

“Go get em’ Rav! Looking good Tay-tay!” C.G. squealed and Mel just groaned.

“Seek and Destroy” by Metallica

With the Blitzkrieg Championship strapped around his waist, and Sally Renolds by his side, Brock Newbludd walked onto Pride’s stage with one fist raised high above his head. Walking from one side of the stage to the other, a visibly amped Newbludd waved his arms up and down to fire up the crowd even more before stopping at the top of the entrance ramp. After unstrapping the title from around his waist, Newbludd then rose it high in the air with one arm and pointed down to the ring at Ravage while red pyro fired off around him.

“And his opponent, being accompanied by Sally Renolds! From Milwaukee, Wisconsin...weighing in at two-hundred and twenty nine pounds, he is the NBW Blitzkrieg Champion! This is ‘The Innovator’ BROOOCK NEEEEWBLUUDD!!” Williams announced to cheers before exiting the ring at the same time that referee Jerry Peterson entered it.

Heading down the ramp, both Brock and Sally gave a glance to the three members of HMMS, who stood at ringside resembling a pack of hyenas, before locking eyes with a grinning Ravage. The challengers confident smile quickly turned to a confused frown when Brock grinned back at him and stopped halfway down the entrance ramp. Reaching inside her leather jacket, Sally gave Ravage a sly wink as she handed Brock a microphone.

Looking into one of the many cameras that lined the entrance ramp, Newbludd gave it a throat slash gesture, the universal signal in the business to cut the music. In the ring, the HMMS had rolled in to join their mentor and Ravage whispered some orders into Taylor Smith’s ear, causing Smith to smile devilishly.

“You know Ravage, I’ve been wondering why you picked a last man standing match for tonight, it just didn’t make sense...especially since after I was done whipping your ass so bad inside the Laddervault, you couldn’t even remember your own daughter’s name.” Brock said with a smirk and Ravage’s face went red with anger at the mention of Cassie...or Bethany.

“YOU KEEP HER NAME OUT OF YOUR MOUTH!” Ravage screamed back after climbing a turnbuckle, while all three members of the HMMS rolled out of the ring to form a wall between Brock and the ring.

“But, then I realized that you never wanted this to be a last man standing match, at least not a real one. You had a plan for tonight, and if I had to bet my right nut on it, I bet it involves these three dipshit you brought with you, am I right?” Newbludd asked Ravage with a sideways look and the former world champion asked for a mic from one of the NBW staff.

“I don’t need them! I’m a legend!” Ravage yelled back, but when Smith looked up to him the Savage of the Ring held his hand up, signaling them to stay.

“Yes you do, old man...you know that you can’t take me one on one...in any type of match! Even if you told them to go in the back, we both know they’d run out here as soon as things start to look bad for their master...which believe me they will…” a confident Newbludd said to his opponent.

“Come and fight me Newbludd! Or else my proteges here are going to come and drag your sorry ass in here!” a anxious and frustrated Ravage fired back, and the HMMS looked just as anxious to get the order to attack.

“Oh, we’re going to fight Ravage...but first, let me introduce a few guys who I asked to come out and make sure this fight stays fair!” a grinning Brock yelled back at the four men. “They’re not on my side, they sure as hell ain’t on yours...they’re going to be the bouncers tonight...or I guess you could call them LUMBERJACKS!”  Brock said before dropping the mic and the crowd roared at the sudden turn of events.

“WHAT!? You can’t do this, this isn’t a lumberjack match!” Ravage was furious as he hopped down back into the ring and looked down to the HMMS to scream, “Get him boys!”

Brock whispered in Sally’s ear as the two backpedaled up the ramp, which caused her to give him a hard look before shaking her head and running up the ramp to the safety of the back. Watching her go through the double doors, Brock then squared up and set his feet as the HMMS approached him.

“The Touch” by Stan Bush

Cheers erupted as all three members of The Different Breed rushed through the double doors to stand behind Newbludd, causing the HMMS to stop dead in their tracks. All three members of HMMS turned their heads back towards the ring, and Ravage screamed at them to attack. Looking at each other for a brief second, the pretty boys collectively shrugged their shoulders and raised their fists before taking a step forward towards the four men.

U.F.O. by Boris the Sprinkler

Once again, the HMMS stopped as NBW’s premier paranormal investigator Max Hopper ran through the double doors to stand behind Brock. Max waved hello to the Different Breed, before tapping Newbludd on the shoulder and handing him a Jiffy-Pop popcorn tin. With a smile, Max did the motion of throwing a frisbee and Brock gave the UFOlogist a reassuring thumbs up.

“If you three don’t get up there and drag Newbludd down here, you’re all FIRED!” Ravage yelled out to the HMMS before throwing the microphone in frustration.

Ravage’s three protege’s argued amongst themselves briefly, before Taylor Smith slapped his two cohorts in the face causing each man to let out a high pitched squeal. With a nod of his head to Benny and Peter, the leader of the HMMS took a menacing step forward.

”Spike It Up!” by Kiss

The already pumped up crowd exploded as the legendary big man Spike Saunders slowly walked through the double doors onto the stage. Spike looked as intimidating as ever, and Newbludd, Hopper and the Different Breed all moved aside to let him through. Walking down the ramp, Spike stopped to cast a shadow over the wide-eyed HMMS.

“I think it’s time for you three to leave.” Saunders growled as he looked down to Smith.

Looking at his two visibly intimidated friends, Smith gulped before slowly shaking his head in agreement.

“I think you’re right big guy...we didn’t like that old fuggo anyway!” Smith meekly exclaimed before him and the rest of HMMS ran past Spike and the others to escape to the backstage.

In the ring, Ravage threw his hands up and roared in anger and frustration.

“Ol Davey’s tinkin da coast is clear Brock, we’ll all stick around and make sure dose swamp rats don’t come sneaking back... now go get dat sumbitch!” LaRue exclaimed, and all the lumberjacks nodded their heads in agreement.

Newbludd didn’t say a word, but only clapped his best friend on the shoulder before turning and sprinting down the ramp. Unstrapping the Blitzkrieg title belt as he ran, Newbludd tossed it like a grenade so that it sailed over the ring to land in front of the timekeeper, who picked it up and placed it on his table. Sliding under the ropes, Brock popped up to see a fuming Ravage standing in the opposite corner.

“What was that about Brock not having any friends, C.G.?” Mel asked with a hint of satisfaction.

“This is ridiculous! These men have no right being out here, it’s a conspiracy!” a fuming C.G. retorted.

“Say what you will Gaines, all I know is that with the presence of these men we will be guaranteed a fair fight! Which is what all these people in the arena and those watching at home paid good money for!” Mel argued.

“Bah, Brock’s done for Mel. It’s just a shame that the HMMS won’t be there to lift Ravage up on their shoulders as he soaks in the glory of victory.” C.G grumbled.

Needless to say, if anyone was planning on coming out during the upcoming match to give either Ravage or Brock a helping hand they would have their work cut out for them. While not impossible, it would take a hell of an effort for anyone to get past the powerhouse Saunders, the Hall of Famer Hopper and the tough as nails members of The Different Breed. 

Back in the ring, both men stood across from each other in opposite corners, hate burning in both of their eyes.

“I’m glad your friends are here, it’s going to make it that much sweeter when I break you in front of them…” Ravage growled to Brock, and on the outside of the ring the lumberjacks each took a place along the barricade that surrounded the ring, making them look more like security than traditional wrestling lumberjacks. The intimidating Saunders planted himself at the bottom of the ramp and stood with his massive arms crossed over his chest.

“The only thing you might break is your hip, you prehistoric fuck…” Brock acidly retorted before locking eyes with referee Peterson, “...ring the bell Jerry.”

Peterson looked from one man to another and took a deep breath before giving the timekeeper the signal…

 

BlitzTitle

 

DING! DING! DING!

Not a second after the bell dinged for the third time Brock reached behind his back to pull out the Jiffy Pop tin that Hopper gave him, and proceeded to throw it like a frisbee at Ravage’s head. Looking more annoyed than surprised, the Savage of the Ring simply moved his head to the side to avoid the silver disc.

Zipping by its intended target, the popcorn tin was on a flight path towards the crowd when suddenly it took a ninety degree turn to land right into the outstretched hand of Max Hopper. Brock raised an eyebrow as Max just shrugged his shoulders and casually leaned against the barricade.

The ridiculousness of the whole exchange seemed to turn Ravage’s annoyance to anger, causing him to shoot out of his corner towards Brock. Seeing Ravage coming, Brock sneered and dashed out of his corner to collide in the middle of the ring with the man who wanted to take his belt, and so much more.

Resembling a pair of caged dogs, both men swung wildly at each as they jockeyed for position, abandoning any resemblance of wrestling or disciplined fighting. Newbludd then gained a slight advantage when he deftly avoided a sharp right hook from Ravage before hammering in piston like punches to the ribs of his bitter enemy.

Reeling from the barrage of body shots, Ravage stumbled backwards into the ropes as he held his ribs. Seeing an opening, Brock attempted the same move that won him the Laddervault match as he side shuffled in an attempted superkick to Ravage, but the veteran grappler saw it coming and rolled out of the way at the last second! Letting out a frustrated growl as he hit nothing but air, Newbludd’s momentum caused raised leg to land awkwardly across the top rope at the knee.

Brock would have only been hung up on the rope for only a split second, but that was all the time the veteran Ravage needed. Swooping in behind Newbludd, the Savage of the Ring lifted Brock up and sent him crashing back down to the mat hard with a Reverse Death Valley Driver!

The defending champion laid sprawled out on the mat from the big time move, and Jerry threw his hands up in the air to give the first count of the match!

ONE!

Getting back to his feet Ravage laughed at the downed Newbludd, who was trying to shake the cobwebs out of his skull.

TWO!

Hearing Jerry’s count, Brock started to stir and propped himself up on his elbows, while Ravage hopped out onto the ring apron.

THREE!

With a sneer on his face, Brock slammed a fist into the mat before rising to his feet, only to knocked back down courtesy of a springboard spear by Ravage! Raising up, Ravage proceeded to rain down stiff punches as he straddled Brock. Keeping his hands up, Brock tried his best to defend himself from the volley of strikes, but more were slipping through to nail him in the face than were being deflected. Feeling that he had his opponent suppressed, Ravage rose his arms above his head and locked his hands for a double axe-handle.

“FEEL THE POWER OF A LEGEN--OOF!”, the gloating challenger exclaimed but was suddenly cut off by a stiff jab to the nose from Brock!

The quick punch seemed to surprise Ravage more than hurt him, but it gave Brock enough of an opening to scissor his legs around Ravage and roll both men over to now give the champion the advantage!

“YOU TALK TOO MUCH!” Newbludd screamed back before starting his own sequence of hard punches.

The live audience cheered as Brock threw rights and lefts in an erratic pattern that threw Ravage’s defense off guard, and one hard shot caught the Savage of the Ring right above the eye giving him a cut above it. Seeing no other way out of the situation, Ravage shot a hand up in desperation and poked Newbludd right in the eye! Brock put a hand up to his face, stopping his assault, and Ravage managed to push Brock off of him.

Brock rubbed his right eye as he rose to his feet, but still managed to duck a wild hook from Ravage, presumably because he had thrown the punch in line with Brock’s good eye. Coming up from his crouch, Brock landed a knee into the midsection of Ravage’s gut and followed that up by irish whipping him into the corner. Hitting the corner hard, Ravage was then nearly folded in half when a sprinting Brock threw his shoulder into Ravage’s gut!

Thrusting a couple more shoulders into the challenger’s gut, Brock then took a step back and began pumping fists into Ravage’s ribs. Changing tactics, Brock then grabbed Ravage by the ears and landed a vicious headbutt right into the small cut that was above Ravage’s eye. Blood began to flow freely from the cut, making the Savage of the Ring’s face a crimson mask.

Newbludd’s forehead had Ravage’s blood smeared across it, and the Blitzkrieg champion wiped it off in disdain, before landing another hard knee into the woozy challenger’s gut. If the opening few minutes of the match was any indication, Newbludd’s strategy was to take Ravage’s stamina away by attacking his body, which was unusual considering that a Last Man Standing match was won by a knockout. Getting down low again to throw more body shots, Brock looked like Rocky Balboa punching a hunk of meat in a freezer, and Ravage was the meat.

Satisfied with his work in the basement, Brock then hopped up onto the second rope and grabbed Ravage by the head with one hand as he signaled the crowd with the other, eliciting more cheers. As the camera zoomed in on the two, it became obvious that Ravage’s eye poke had effectively done it’s job based on how red Newbludd’s eye was.

With a sinister looking smile, Brock looked down to his foe and began rocking Ravage with right hands, while the crowd chanted along with each punch.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!


Low blow by Ravage!

BOOOO!

Once again, Ravage had been in a desperate spot and had resorted to desperate measures to get out of it by sending an uppercut right between Brock’s legs. The defending champion’s face winced in pain as he swayed on the second rope holding his jewels. Below Brock, Ravage grimaced as he touched his battered ribs. Ignoring the pain, Ravage then shot his arms up and let out a roar as he carried Newbludd into the ring on his shoulders.

The crowd was buzzing in anticipation for the inevitable powerbomb, but Ravage had a different idea…

With a roar Ravage took a step forward as he pushed Brock upwards. Upon his opponent’s descent, Ravage reached up to crank Newbludd’s head back and hit a move he hadn’t used in years, his patented version of the Gory Neckbreaker… the When Victory is Not Enough!

If the wicked twist of his neck wasn’t enough, Newbludd followed that up by landing face first onto the mat. Seeing the champion sprawled onto the mat Jerry started the count, and Ravage rose to his feet with arms spread wide, drawing boos from the packed house.

ONE!

Jerry was cut short from yelling two when Ravage, teeth bared in a big grin, picked the groggy Newbludd up and then followed up with another devastating retro move…The Savage Driver!

Brock’s already sore neck was spiked into the mat by the wrist-clutch-over-the-shoulder-piledriver, and Ravage stood up once again this time with an even bigger grin.

“HE’S DONE FOR! COUNT IT JERRY!” the challenger proclaimed as he made his way over to the corner and sat on the top turnbuckle, while Jerry started up again.

ONE!

Ravage soaked in jeers as he wiped some blood off of face and threw it down on the prone body of Newbludd, causing it to splatter on him.

TWO!

Brock’s leg started to twitch.

THREE!

Now he had begun to stir, grabbing his head from the throbbing pain.

FOUR!

Still holding his head, Newbludd made no attempt to get up.

FIVE!

Hearing the crowd urge him on, Newbludd rolled over onto his stomach to prop up on his elbows.

SIX!

Jumping down from the turnbuckle, Ravage made his way over to stand next to Jerry as Newbludd crawled towards the closest set of ropes.

SEVEN!

Ravage looked on in disbelief as a groggy Newbludd stuck his hand out to grasp the bottom rope.

EIGHT!

Suddenly, in a surge of adrenaline, Brock reached out with his other hand to grasp the second rope and pulled himself to his feet! The shock that passed through Ravage was quick, and in a roar of frustration he charged at Brock with the intention of clotheslining him to the outside…

Reversed! Running on instinct, Newbludd somehow managed to get low when Ravage came in and proceeded to send him flying overhead with a back body drop!

But things didn’t turn out according to plan for Brock as Ravage managed to get ahold of the top rope as he flipped over Brock to land on the ring apron! With Newbludd’s back to him, Ravage sent Brock stumbling forward with a stiff forearm to the back of his head! Wasting no time with the follow up, Ravage then leaned back on the ropes before leaping up to the top rope, looking to hit a springboard attack.

Unfortunately for Ravage, his staggered opponent recovered sooner than expected. When Brock spun around to see Ravage perched up he reached out in desperation to pull on the top rope, causing Ravage to lose balance and land crotch first on it! The crowd cheered as Ravage howled in pain, straddling the top rope. Brock side shuffled for a superkick, but then stopped himself and instead bounced off of the opposite ropes to head towards Ravage with a full head of steam…

Coming in towards Ravage, Newbludd leaped into the air to sail over the top rope and sail over it. Grabbing Ravage’s head as he flew, Brock began to flip...

BLOCKBUSTER TO THE OUTSIDE!

HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!

Both men crashed down to the floor hard, landing right in front of Ai Tso who simply moved away from the human wreckage. While Ravage took the worst end of it by having his head driven into the thin matting that encompassed the ring, Brock didn’t fair much better by landing back first onto the hard floor. With both competitors laying motionless on the outside, Jerry quickly rolled under the ropes to stand over them and begin his count.

ONE!

Jerry's start of the count did nothing to spurn each man, and both still laid unmoving on the ground.

TWO!

Newbludd arched his back in pain and rolled over onto his stomach.

THREE

Holding his back with one hand, the Innovator struggled up to sit on his knees, while Ravage had just begun to stir himself.

FOUR!

Still holding his back, Brock labored to a standing position, drawing cheers from the crowd.

FIVE!

Grimacing in pain, the resilient Ravage began to push himself up!

SIX!

Seeing that the odds were against Ravage staying down for a full ten count, Brock decided to not let his opponent take any more time struggling to his feet. Walking over to Ravage, the Blitzkrieg champion hoisted him up. Grabbing Ravage by the back of the head, Brock walked both men over to the ring and then proceeded to smash Ravage’s head into the ring apron!

Not letting go, Brock raised the former world champion’s bloodied head up to drive it into the apron again when suddenly Ravage lashed out with a elbow that hit Brock square in the stomach. Stumbling backwards from the elbow, Brock shook off the pain and before Ravage could get spun around to face him Newbludd planted the Savage of the Ring to the ground with a side russian legsweep!

Getting back to his feet, Brock leaped up into the air and dropped an elbow right into the heart of the challenger. Standing up once again, Brock stared down at the groaning Ravage while Jerry started the count.

ONE!

Newbludd ran a hand through sweat soaked hair as Ravage rolled over to push himself up once again.

TWO!

Scanning his surroundings, it was evident that the wheels were turning in Brock’s mind until his eyes locked onto the steel ring steps.

THREE!

Glancing down at Ravage, who was now up on his and knees, Brock then sprinted over to the ring steps.

FOUR!

Still on his hands and knees, Ravage caught a glimpse of Brock pulling off the top of the ring steps and forced himself to stand up. Ring steps in hand, Brock turned to see a sneering Ravage staring back at him. Growing a evil grin, Brock raised the steps above his head and charged towards Ravage.

With the weapon wielding Newbludd closing in fast, the veteran Ravage had to think fast if he was to avoid being crushed by the steps. Noticing one of NBW’s cameraman standing only a couple of feet away from him, Ravage took a quick step and grabbed the camera right off the man’s shoulder. Holding the more than likely very expensive piece of equipment in both hands, Ravage saw that Brock was only a few feet away and the Savage of the Ring did the only thing he thought he could do to protect himself.

With a loud roar, Ravage raised the camera over his head and threw it at Brock with all his might!

Holding the heavy steel steps over his head left Brock wide open and the camera made a sickening THUD sound when it connected it with his face!

BLITZ! BLITZ! BLITZ!

Blood instantly flowed from Brock’s nose as he stumbled backwards and dropped the steps to the ground. Seeing Newbludd stunned Ravage dashed towards him. Scooping up the camera as he ran, Ravage reached Brock and leveled him with the camera! Tossing the camera down, Ravage stood over the downed Brock and let out a dominant roar as Jerry started up again.

ONE!

WIth a bleeding and motionless Brock laying underneath him, Ravage looked proud as Jerry continued.

TWO!

THREE!

FOUR!


Opening his eyes, Brock immediately reached up to his more than likely broken nose, causing him to scream out in pain when he touched it. Standing over him Ravage burst out in satisfied laughter.

FIVE!

SIX!


The pain that shot through Brock’s face from touching his nose acted like a set of shock paddles as his eyes suddenly shot open to stare up at Ravage, whose smile quickly faded.

SEVEN!

Seeing Ravage standing over him, Brock threw a fist towards Ravage’s groin. The veteran grappler saw it coming and easily deflected Brock’s strike by grabbing ahold of Newbludd’s arm and jerking him upwards to snatch him in a front facelock. Seeing the now broken camera lying on the ground, Ravage positioned himself and Newbludd so that it was behind them. Upon doing that, it was very clear what his intentions were, to bounce Brock’s skull off of the camera with a V FOR VICTORY Double Arm DDT!

Feeling Ravage yank both of his arms up in combination with seeing the shattered camera below him, Brock desperately tried to break free. Struggling to hold Newbludd with the double arm, Ravage switched tactics and hammered Brock in the back with a forearm before locking in another front facelock, opting to go with a regular DDT.

The crowd rained down boos as Ravage raised a defiant fist and leaned back to hit the DDT when suddenly his momentum stopped. Boos turned to cheers when with a grunt Brock stood his ground and wrapped his arms around Ravage’s waist. Still holding the front face lock, Ravage raised an arm to hit Brock with another forearm when suddenly his feet left the ground!

With a roar that Big Rick would even appreciate, Newbludd heaved Ravage up and flipped him over to nail him with a Northern Lights Suplex!

New-Bludd! New-Bludd! New-Bludd!

Staggering back to his feet, Brock threw a fist over his bleeding head in response to the crowd, while Jerry started the count on the downed Ravage.

ONE!

Glancing down at his bitter enemy, who had already begun to stir at Jerry’s one count, Brock then looked his gaze on Brent Williams who was sitting in a steel chair next to the timekeeper’s table.

TWO!

Eyebrows raising in surprise, Brent looked uneasy as the bloodied and battered Newbludd shambled around the outside of the ring and headed towards him.

THREE!

Brock simply grunted and waved his arm at Williams, ordering the announcer to move from his seat. Brent made no argument as he jumped from his seat, obviously wanting to get away from the bloodsoaked Blitzkrieg champion.

FOUR!

As Brock snatched the steel chair and folded it up, Ravage forced himself up to a sitting position.

SIX!

Chair in hand, Brock stalked towards Ravage, who was attempting to gather himself and get to his feet.

SEVEN!

With a grunt of pure exasperation Ravage staggered to his feet as the crowd cheered, which caused him to crack a smile. Maybe the fans were finally giving the respect the legend deserved…or maybe the cheers had something to do with the chair wielding Brock standing behind the unaware Ravage.

CHAIR SHOT BY NEWBLUDD!

With a loud smack, Brock unloaded on Ravage with the chair and the crowd roared even louder! Luckily for Ravage, it was evident that the brutal match was starting to take it’s toll on Brock as his wild swing was a little off the mark, causing the chair to hit mostly on Ravage’s broad shoulders and not on the back of his head. Still, the homerun swing from Newbludd stunned Ravage, but surprisingly the Savage of the Ring didn’t fall instantly.

Instead, Ravage stumbled forward towards the barricade and would have fallen flat on his face if he wouldn’t have instinctively stuck both of his hands out to catch himself on said barricade at the last second. Head hung low between his outstretched arms, Ravage breathed heavily as he winced in pain before clumsily spinning around to lean against the barrier.

Seeing the glazed over look in his opponent’s eyes, Newbludd rushed towards Ravage with the chair raised high above his head. With only a couple feet separating him and his bitter enemy, Brock let out another battle cry as he leaped into the air and brought the chair down towards Ravage.

Brock’s yell must have snapped Ravage out of his daze just in time to see the chair coming down towards him and at the last second he rolled out of the way to avoid the blow!

Newbludd hit nothing but the hard barricade, causing him to drop the chair instantly as pain shot through his hands. Coming out of his roll, Ravage looked invigorated by the change in momentum and he wasted no time in hammering Brock in the kidney’s with alternating body hooks. Newbludd lashed out blindly with a couple of back elbows, but the future NBW Hall of Famer avoided both of them before grabbing Brock and lifting him up.

ATOMIC DROP ONTO THE BARRICADE!

It’s not very often that the classic atomic drop caused the crowd to pop, but in this case Ravage brought Brock down crotch first onto the barricade so hard that the smack of the impact rivaled that of the chair shot that Newbludd delivered. His face now a ghostly white, Newbludd looked to be in immense pain as he sat up, straddling the barricade.

Seeing the chair laying by his feet, Ravage gave Brock a neck snapping jab to the Innovators busted up nose before snatching the chair up. With a twisted smile on his face, Ravage took a few steps back from the stunned Brock as he gripped the chair before rushing in looking to hit a homerun shot of his own!

Taking a Happy Gilmore esque hop, Ravage swung as hard as he could, but Newbludd’s survival instinct kicked as the chair came screaming towards his face, and managed to narrowly avoid it by bending backwards in a great showing of flexibility!

But Ravage wasn’t going to be denied, and the veteran outmatched Newbludd’s showing of flexibility by immediately hitting the brakes as he missed his chair shot. Rotating the chair in his hands, Ravage changed his momentum as Brock rose back up from the awkward bend, and the Savage of the Ring CLOCKED Brock in the back with the chair, sending the defending champion tumbling off the barricade into the front row of the crowd!

BLITZ! BLITZ! BLITZ!

The closest lumberjack to the action was Different Breed member, and Newbludd’s best friend, Davey LaRue. Standing only a few feet away from Brock, the popular Cajun now leaned over the barricade with a look of genuine concern on his face as he looked down to his laid out friend.

“Back off fat man, or else you’ll be next!” Ravage screamed at Davey as he waved the chair at him threateningly and the sneering LaRue put his hands up as he backed away.

NBW security was quick to the scene as well, pushing the rabid fans back to make space around Brock who was now rolling back and forth on the ground in obvious pain. Referee Peterson showed some nice agility in his own right as he hopped over the barricade to start the count.

ONE!

Still holding the steel chair with one hand, Ravage used the other hand to help boost himself up the barricade.

TWO!

Slowly rising to a standing position, Ravage now loomed over Newbludd, who was lying on his back as he held his bloodied head in pain.

THREE!

Growing a smile that was equal parts evil and eagerness, Ravage’s white teeth contrasted sharply against his blood stained face as he raised the chair high above his head.

FOUR!

Cocking his knees, Ravage was all set to leap off the barricade and bury the chair into his vulnerable opponent...

FIVE!

...until suddenly Brock’s eyes shot open and instantly locked onto Ravage’s which were wide with surprise!

SIX!

Ravage’s surprised reaction also momentarily stopped his impending attack, if only for a couple seconds. But those precious few seconds was all that Brock needed to get the momentum back on his side as he desperately lunged up at Ravage to grab him by the ankles.

SEVEN!

The Savage of the Ring was in a precarious position as he stood on the thin top of the barricade, but he still had the chair in his hands, and with a roar of pure hatred Ravage swung it down with both hands towards Newbludd...

EIGHT!

Sensing that his window to turn the tide of this fight was closing by the millisecond Brock pushed with everything he had, causing Ravage to lose his footing on the barricade!

SMACK!

It was only a four foot drop back down to the floor, and Ravage had simply landed on his feet. But, he was in the middle of overhead swinging the chair and when his feet hit the ground the chair smashed into the top of the barricade. Pain jolting through his hands from the impact, Ravage lost his grip on the chair as he stumbled backwards.

NINE!

The crowd rained down cheers on the defending champion as he used the barricade to pull himself up to his feet before Jerry could throw ten fingers into the air. Ravage was still shaking his hurt hands and his stumble backwards now placed him between Newbludd and the corner ringpost. With Ravage’s attention still focused on getting the feeling back in his hands, Newbludd grabbed the top of the barricade and leaned back before hopping up to perch on top of it.

With a hand between his bent legs to help steady himself, Brock took a deep breath and leaped in the air towards Ravage!

Taking into account the punishment that he had received thus far at the hands of Ravage, and how utterly drained he look as he sat perched on top of the barricade, Newbludd gained surprising height from his leap. Hearing the sudden roar from the crowd, Ravage looked up towards Brock, but his reaction was far too late and the soaring Newbludd nailed him in the chest with a well executed SHOTGUN DROPKICK!

It was obvious that Ravage’s wind was taken from him by the dropkick as he staggered backwards holding his chest. Stumbling backwards, Ravage couldn’t catch his breath as he began to fall back on his heels until in a moment of pure luck his back hit the ringpost and he was able to stay upright. Using the ringpost as a support, Ravage bent over and took ragged breaths as he struggled to get his wind back.

Forcing himself back up to his feet quickly, Brock spotted his opponent doubled over by the ringpost and hustled over to him. Reaching Ravage, Newbludd immediately sent a stiff elbow down to the back of Ravage’s skull. The hard shot would have dropped Ravage to the ground, but Brock grabbed the Savage of the Ring by the hair to keep him bent over.

Sending one more hard elbow down, Brock then jerked Ravage upwards and locked him into a COBRA CLUTCH!

Brock let out a scream of pure rage as he squeezed on his enemies neck, and Ravage could do nothing but flail his arms wildly as his face started to turn a sickly shade of blue.

Would this be the end for Ravage? Would Newbludd end it by putting him to sleep?

That outcome looked very likely as Ravage’s thrashing began to slow down. Thinking that the deadly submission had done it’s job, Brock slowly began to release the hold, but the veteran instinct in Ravage kicked in and the instant that he felt Newbludd’s grip loosening he sent a wild elbow back towards his opponent’s face that connected with Brock’s damaged nose!

Brock howled in pain from the blow, and he was forced to release the hold, just not in the way that Ravage was hoping…

COBRA CLUTCH SUPLEX BY NEWBLUDD!

CRUNCH! Ravage landed belly first onto the broken television camera!

New-Bludd! New-Bludd! New-Bludd!

Popping his hips like a pro, Newbludd had sent Ravage flying over his head with enough torque to cause the Savage of the Ring to flip completely over upon release. In a cruel twist of irony, as Ravage hit the ground with a thud, his exposed belly landed directly on the camera that he had used so effectively as a weapon earlier in the match.

HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!

“OHHH FUUUCCK!!” a pain stricken Ravage screamed out as he rolled onto his back, revealing that his chest was now covered in small cuts.

Upon further inspection the camera that Ravage now laid next to was reduced to crushed mess of broken plastic and glass. It was evident that the force of Ravage crash landing onto it caused it’s large lens to shatter upon impact, causing the Savage of the Ring to get a bloodied up chest. Referee Peterson looked openly concerned as he looked down at Ravage, but he had a job to do and he wasted no time in throwing one finger in the air.

ONE!

Still on the ground, Brock rolled over onto his stomach before glancing over to see how his opponent fared after receiving the wrong end of the suplex.

TWO!

Newbludd’s jaw dropped a little at the sight of the wreckage that was the bleeding Ravage and the broken camera.

THREE!

Pushing himself up, Brock staggered back to his feet as Jerry continued on.

FOUR!

With his hands on his knees, Newbludd bent over and took ragged breaths as he kept his eyes locked on Ravage.

FIVE!

Brock’s eyes widened in surprise when Ravage, who hadn’t moved a muscle since Jerry had started the count, slowly began to roll over onto his stomach.

SIX!

Taking his hands off of his knees to straighten himself, Brock shook his head in amazement while the crowd buzzed in anticipation as Ravage got his hands underneath him and began to push himself up!

SEVEN!

The Savage of the Ring’s arms were visibly shaking from the effort he was putting forth to slowly push himself back up, and it looked like the resilient challenger was going to once again beat the count when suddenly his arms gave out, causing him to hit the ground! The crowd burst into cheers and counted along as Jerry threw both hands up!

EIGHT!

Even with the crowd’s cheers indicating that the defending champion had all but won this brutal contest, Brock didn’t join in on the celebration and his steely gaze never left Ravage.

NINE!

The jubilation echoing throughout the arena suddenly turned into a very audible gasp when Ravage roared and jumped to his feet in one quick motion just as Jerry was about to throw ten fingers into the air! Now standing eye to eye with Brock, Ravage motioned with his hand for his hated enemy to come at him.

Even Brock, who was at the ready just in case Ravage somehow did miraculously beat the count, was taken aback by his opponents sudden surge of energy. But that feeling of surprise was fleeting, and Newbludd gladly obeyed Ravage’s command by quickly charging in towards him with his fists raised.

Standing his ground, the seemingly reinvigorated Ravage met Brock head on literally by ducking Newbludd’s first wild haymaker and hitting him with a knee shaking headbutt that made Brock take a step back. Shaking the blow off, Brock retaliated with a knee to Ravage’s gut and then grabbed him by the arm for an irish whip that would send Ravage careening into the ringpost.

Reversed by Ravage! Newbludd crashed into the ringpost!

Brock hit the hard metal of the ringpost with authority, and now looked to be dead on his feet as he slumped against it. Ravage stalked over to his vulnerable opponent and hammered Brock in the lower back with a kick that made Newbludd’s head bounce off of the post. Delivering one more kick for good measure, Ravage then grabbed Brock by the back of the head with the intentions of smashing his already busted up face into the cold steel.

As Ravage wrenched Brock’s head back, the Blitzkrieg champion threw a back elbow that connected with Ravage’s jaw, causing him to let go of Brock’s head. Spinning around to face Ravage, Brock snapped a couple quick jabs into Ravage’s face before doubling him over with a well aimed body punch. Newbludd then grabbed him and stuck Ravage’s head underneath one arm for a DDT. Looking behind him as he held Ravage, Brock lined his opponent's head up with the post, and the crowd’s growing roar indicated that they had caught onto Brock’s malicious intentions.

Unfortunately for Newbludd, Ravage had too and let him know it by pumping his legs to drive Brock’s back into the post, causing him to loosen his grip on him. Ravage then tried to wriggle free from Newbludd’s grasp, but Brock cinched the headlock back in before he could and proceeded to unleash with a series of hard smacking forearms to Ravage’s back that seemed to slow him down.

Sensing that Newbludd was going to attempt to DDT him into the post again, Ravage tried to yank free with all his might, causing both men to move a few feet away from the post. Knowing that he missed his shot at the deadly DDT, Brock changed his tactics by switching his hold so that Ravage’s head was now between his legs.

Sending a stiff elbow down to Ravage’s back, Brock then wrapped his arms around Ravage’s legs and began to lift The Savage of the Ring up…

PILEDRIVE--NO! Ravage reversed it!

Sapped of his strength, Brock struggled to lift the challenger up, but Ravage still had something left in the tank and took advantage of it by powering Brock up over his head…

BACK BODY DRO--NO! Brock rotated through it to land on his feet!

Though he did avoid danger, fatigue had caused Brock to stumble after landing and he stumbled sideways for a bit before catching himself on the announce table, causing Gaines and Vanderart to vacate the area. Having regained his bearings, Brock spun around to go back at Ravage, but the Savage of the Ring was already there waiting for him!

Having caught Newbludd off guard, Ravage sent a swift boot to the champion’s midsection which caused him to double over. Acting fast, Ravage then grabbed Brock…

PUMPHANDLE POWERBOMB ONTO THE ANNOUNCE TABLE!  Ravage threw Newbludd down hard but the table didn’t break! Instead of going through the table, Brock bounced off of it with a sickening THUD!

Ravage spread his arms and laughed maniacally as he looked down to Newbludd, who was crumpled up at his feet! The NBW legend then gave the crowd double middle fingers in response to the heavy dose of booing he was receiving, while Jerry started his count.

ONE!

“SHOW RESPECT TO A LEGEND!” Ravage screamed out to the crowd before reaching down and picking the limp Newbludd up, which stopped Jerry’s count.

V FOR VICTORY!

A quick replay was shown, and it showed that Ravage was actually laughing as he drove Brock’s head into the hard floor with his signature double arm DDT.

Getting back to his feet Ravage threw a fist into the air, knowing that he had just sealed the deal.

ONE!

The crowd was not chanting along this time, instead there was an ominous silence through the arena as they looked down at Ravage standing over the sprawled out Newbludd.

TWO!

“Stick a fork in him Jerry, his ass is DONE!” Ravage exclaimed as he started to slowly backpedal away.

THREE!

Spinning around, the battered and bruised legend walked over to the timekeeper's table and snatched the Blitzkrieg Title belt off of it, which drew a loud chorus of boos.

FOUR!

Ravage also made sure to flash a big smile to the nearest lumberjack, Brock’s best friend Davey LaRue, who clenched his fist and glared back at him in return.

FIVE!

Making his way back over towards his downed foe, Ravage cockily stepped over Newbludd as he proudly held the Blitz title around his shoulder.

SIX!

Ravage now had made it over to the top half of the ring steps that Brock had tried to use as a weapon earlier and began to drag them back in the direction of Newbludd.

SEVEN!

Ravage stopped dragging the steps when he was a few feet away from Newbludd, and then proceeded to step on top of them to raise the Blitzkrieg title high above his head.

EIGHT!

BOOOOOO!

The legend just simply nodded his head in satisfaction as he kept the title held high.

NINE!

YEEEEEEEEAAA!!!

Ravage’s smile was wiped from his face as he looked down to Newbludd to see that the defending champion had somehow made it to his feet! But, it was obvious that Brock was in terrible shape as he stood almost completely bent over and had to use his hands to keep him upright.

“ARGGHH!! STAY DOWN!” an infuriated Ravage screamed before leaping off the steps and smashing Newbludd in the back with the belt!

ONE!

Strapping the Blitzkrieg title around his waist, Ravage let out a frustrated roar as he moved Jerry out of the way and picked Brock up.

“NOW, I END YOU! PERMANENTLY!” Ravage snarled right into the face of the groggy Newbludd before scooping him up.

With the Blitzkrieg title around his waist and it’s owner held in his arms, Ravage spun around to face the ring steps…

SPINNING SCOOP SLAM ONTO THE STEPS!

Brock’s back smacked against the steps upon impact, and now he was splayed out across them with his eyes closed. Getting back to his feet, Ravage pointed a finger at the ref who was just about to restart the count

“Don’t bother! I told him I would end him!” Ravage screamed at Jerry, who looked at him with confused look.

“It’s over Ravage! It’s over!” the veteran ref pleaded with Ravage, who just laughed back at him.

“It’s OVER when I say it’s OVER!” Ravage said menacingly back before climbing up the ring apron.

Looking down to Brock, who was still laid out like a dead fish on the ring, Ravage then turned his attention to the turnbuckle and slowly climbed to the top rope.

The packed arena was absolutely wild as Ravage steadied himself on the top turnbuckle and turned to face the outside. Rising up, the legend adjusted the title belt that he had around his waist and took a deep breath.

Letting out a massive roar, Ravage leapt off the top rope!

Pumping his legs as he soared through the air, the background around Ravage almost turned completely white from the flashbulbs in the crowd…

CANNONBALL ONTO THE STEPS---NO! NO! NEWBLUDD ROLLED OUT OF THE WAY!

The crowd let out a collective gasp from the sound of the Blitzkrieg title hitting the metal steps and the cry of pain that Ravage let out a half second after it. Now, he was sprawled out on his belly atop the steps, while Brock laid on the ground next to him.

ONE!



TWO!



THREE!

NEW-BLUDD! NEW-BLUDD! NEW-BLUDD!

FOUR!

Brock reached out and grabbed the steps!

FIVE!

With the crowd urging him on, Brock grasped the steps with his other hand and began to pull himself up.

SIX!

Pain etched Brock’s face as he held onto the steps and tried to get his feet under him.

SEVEN!

Gritting his teeth, Brock then powered up and reached his feet!

EIGHT!

Gazing down at his bitter enemy, Brock’s eyes narrowed when he noticed that Ravage was wearing the championship around his waist...

“That belt is mine you sonuvabitch!” Brock yelled out as he climbed up onto the steps and stood Ravage up, breaking Jerry’s count!

Holding the weak kneed Ravage up, Brock delivered a quick headbutt before reaching down and ripping the championship off of Ravage’s waist. Tossing the belt down with one hand, Brock then brought Ravage’s face inches away from his own.

“And YOU will NEVER have it!” Brock screamed into Ravage’s unconscious looking face before he sent a knee into the Savage of the Ring’s gut.

With a battle cry that boomed over the frenzied crowd, Newbludd gave everything he had to power Ravage up and hold him in a stalling vertical suplex, until suddenly dropping down into a piledriver sitting position….

BLACK HAWK DOWN ONTO THE STEPS!

HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!

Newbludd had just drove the top of Ravage’s skull into the unforgiving ring steps with his variation of the Steiner Screwdriver!

Upon impact, both men bounced off of the steps and now laid only inches apart. Brock writhed in agony as he held his tailbone, while Ravage sprawled out on his belly next to him and it was evident that the screwdriver had busted the back of his head open from the fresh blood that was coloring his hair crimson.

Jerry dropped down to his knees to check on Ravage’s condition and shook his head in disbelief.

“COUNT GODDAMMIT!” a still writhing Newbludd yelled at the referee and Jerry took a deep breath as he stood back up.

Throwing his hands in the air Jerry started the count once again, and the whole arena seemed to shake when the crowd joined in with him.

ONE!

Brock attempted to stand, but the pain in his back was too much and he fell back down to the ground, while Ravage hadn’t moved a muscle.

TWO!

Taking ragged breaths as he laid on his back, Brock squeezed his eyes and tried to get up again.

THREE!

Once again, Brock couldn’t make it up and ended up back on the ground.

FOUR!

With the crowd urging him one, Brock began to crawl towards the ring while Ravage still hadn’t moved a muscle.

FIVE!

Suddenly the crowd exploded in boos as all three members of the HMMS appeared on the stage! Benny and Peter each had a baseball bat in their hands, while Taylor was brandishing the same pair of brass knuckles that he used to take out Brock on Slam 84.

SIX!

Completely unaware of what was taking place on the ramp, and in no shape to do anything about it if he did, Brock continued his slow crawl. While on the stage the now well-armed HMMS sprinted down the ramp, looking to make quick work of the man in their way, Spike Saunders.

SEVEN!

The first man to meet Spike was Peter Pham who attempted to crack Spike in the head with a running swing, but Saunders easily deflected the blow as he grabbed Peter by the throat and lifted him up. But instead of slamming Pham down to the ramp, Saunders showed off his impressive strength by tossing Peter into the next man in line Benny Reyes, causing the two men to crack heads and fall limp to the ground!

EIGHT!

Making it to the ring, Brock lunged upwards in desperation for the ring apron to grab it and at the same instant Ravage’s eyes opened and he began to push himself up! Meanwhile up on the ramp Taylor Smith had successfully skirted by the distracted Spike only to meet his end by getting blindsided by a big time dropkick from Max Hopper that caused Smith to stumble into the waiting arms of Ai Tso, who planted him with a release German Suplex!

NINE!

Knowing that he literally had only a second to spare, Newbludd pulled with all his might on the ring apron and successfully made it to his feet! With anxious breath, Brock watched as Ravage pushed himself up even more and titled his head to lock his glassy eyes onto Brock…

Ravage was going to do it, he was going to be the count!

NO! With one last exasperated roar, Ravage tried to rise up but he had hit his threshold and passed out, sending him back down to the ground just as Jerry threw both of his hands into the air!

TEN!!!!

“Ladies and gentlemen...winner of this bout...and STILL NBW Blitzkrieg Champion…’The Innovator’ Broooock Neeewbluuudd!” Brent Williams announcement was barely audible over the roaring of the crowd.

Picking the Blitzkrieg title off of the ground, Jerry walked over to Brock and handed him the belt. Still leaning against the ring to keep himself upright, the bloodsoaked champion stared at the belt for a long second before hoisting it above his head with one arm to soak in the cheers. Nodding his head to Jerry, Brock then gazed at his fallen opponent opponent and shook his head in disbelief from what had just occurred between the two of them.

The lumberjacks had now made their way around the ring and each man looked at each other with the same look of disbelief after seeing the condition of both Brock and Ravage. Davey LaRue walked up to Brock and offered him some help making it to the back, but Newbludd waved him away as he slung the title around his shoulder.

With a deep breath, the victorious champion stood up straight and took a step forward, determined to walk out on his own two feet…

On his second step, Newbludd’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and he collapsed to the mat.

Instantly all of the lumberjack’s crowded around Newbludd and began waving their arms towards the stage for NBW medical to come out, while referee Peterson, who had been checking on Ravage was doing the same.

Not one second later, concerned girlfriend and veteran NBW EMT Sally Renolds, came sprinting through the double doors to quickly make her way down the, followed closely by two groups of fellow EMT’s pushing stretchers. At this point the crowd was noticeably quieter and an air of concern hung in the arena.

Wiping the tears from her eyes, Sally threw down her medical bag as she reached Brock before rolling him onto his back. Years of being on the NBW medical staff combined with her tenure as a U.S. Army field medic had given Sally an iron stomach and thick skin when it came to dealing with blood, but the sight of seeing her unconscious boyfriend’s battered face made her gasp. Standing behind her, Davey put a comforting hand on her shoulder but that wasn’t enough to stop even more tears from coming out.

The other medical personnel shared the same shocked reaction as they checked on Ravage, and quickly they set up both stretchers for the two unconscious combatants. Carefully placing each man on one, the EMT’s began to push the stretchers around the ring to head back up the ramp.

The camera then slowly began to zoom out to fit the entire ring in it’s frame, showing the wreckage that this Blitzkrieg Title had left in it’s wake, and as the two men were wheeled up the ramp, the crowd stood up to give them a respectful standing ovation.

With everyone cleared of the ring the camera slowly began to fade out to blackness, signaling the end of the first match of the evening.

 

 

 

The Players vs The LAW

 

Post-Legacy, The Players returned from their Kyoto Pro commitments in Japan and told A-List, the number one contender to the tag team titles coming up later, they were in a false position and if The Players had been round, they wouldn't be in line for a shot.

Since then, A-List have waged war on The Unstoppables, the defending champions, and by calling in extra help from The Law, they've managed to physically and psychologically get to Vic Gravender and Tyson XL.  If that's possible.

In the crossfire, The Players have tried to aid The Unstoppables fend off the force of The Law and A-List combined.  And, essentially, that is why we're here tonight.

Sirens started blazing throughout the arena.  Aptly, the Dead Kennedys anthem 'Police Truck' started as one pulled into the arena.  Down the sides of the aisle, 10 officers form 2 lines of 5.

"FROM THE LOS ANGELES POLICE DEPARTMENT...WEIGHING EXACTLY SIX HUNDRED HOUSE....BRADY....STRAUSS....THE LAAAAAAW!!!!!"

The camera zooms in on the vehicle's back door as 4 officers pile out and join the others in line.  Lastly, but in no way least, Brady and Strauss jump out and make the walk to the ring, saluted by their colleagues.

After ascending the stairs, Strauss steps between the ropes whereas the slightly bigger Brady chooses to step over them.  The Law is in the house!

That said line waited patiently as Air's 'Sexy Boy' played with eight cheerleaders and pom-poms all waiting to greet 'International Playboy' Paul Sanders with kisses while Kid Chameleon, no doubt, would stick to his PSP or Nintendo DS.

Ah, that's what we thought.

But, even for professional police officers, 8 gorgeous girls can be too distracting...

Through the crowd, The Players, who'd seen The Law deploy sneaky tactics, decided to one-up (yes, Kid, that one is for you) the officers and surpass the defence...

Chameleon grabbed Straus by the head, applying a Side Headlock shouting 'YEAH'...

Daydream Headlock!  (Bulldog.)

Everything was a whirl.  The Players had, indeed, caught The Law daydreaming.  Only the crowd's reception forced the other enforcement officials to turn around, just in time to see Sanders level Brady with a right hand and toss him through the ropes Kid and Paul had just come through.  What a start for the gamer and the guy with great game and looks.

Lapped up by the crowd, Chameleon and Sanders waved at the frustrated line of police officers who'd been awaiting their presence.  They'd been bypassed and the bell rang with Kid and Strauss as the legal men.

Chameleon mounted Strauss and cracked with him two lefts and rights, which he prefers to call...

"SEVERE BEATDOWN.  Sorry, I'm late.  Wasn't that great?"

The Mark, Kid Chameleon's personal friend and broadcaster, had just arrived at the announcers' desk and Melissa was personally pleased to see him.  CG, on the other hand...

Gains:  "What are YOU doing here?"

"Well, I was with the guys coming through the crowd, but they're so much faster than me...I only just got here.  Melissa, pleasure," The Mark said graciously, shaking her hand.  Gains didn't get the same treatment.

Once Kid jumped off the ride, Strauss rolled to the side, but as Kid ran the ropes upon seeing the 6'6 member of The Law stand up...

Jonny Cage's NUT PUNCH!

And the crowd almost POPPED a nut!

The Mark shook his head:  "Every time he does that, no matter who or where, it gets that reaction.  You gotta love Jonny Cage and Kid Chameleon."

Our official wasn't happy, which outraged our guest commentator:  "Come on, the first time I've ever seen anyone admonish Kid for that...use your common sense."

Gains coughed up:  "I guess everyone doesn't love Kid Chameleon - I don't."

The Mark couldn't let that slide:  "You don't count."

Meanwhile...

Zangief's Spinning Backfist was next!  Kid then raked Strauss' face across the top rope, ignoring the referee's warning once again, before ramming it into the middle turnbuckle.

The Mark:  "It might be called Foul Play, but the official must have a bug up his butt about Paul Sanders smooching his girlfriend or Kid beating him online.  Relax guys, it happens to A LOT OF people."

Speaking of Paul, his partner tagged him in.  The strapping power member of The Players, who was smaller than both members of The Law, entered.

Sanders had a spring in his step and he rammed Strauss' face, just as Kid had done,  into the middle turnbuckle a further five times, the crowd counting along with each passing effort.

Thereafter, Paul whipped Strauss to the opposite corner and scored with A STIFF LARIAT.

The Mark:  "That's not the only thing stiff about him...so I've been told."

Brady, who'd returned to his corner a long time ago, was helpless at this point and The Law had no clue what had hit them.  Sanders then put Strauss up on the top turnbuckle and was searching for a Superplex.

Strauss denied Paul that chance with a couple of Headbutts, causing separation.  For the first time in the match, the colossal combination had an opening and it was taken gratefully...

Flying Clothesline!

Strauss crawled over to and reached Brady, the biggest man in the match, who wasted no time in elevating Paul into the air with ease in the form of a Double-Handed Chokeslam.

There was no cover by the abrasive enforcer.  Instead, he picked Paul up like a shopping bag and put him down with an emphatic Sidewalk Slam.  He hadn't broken sweat, done plenty of damage and elected to leave on a high note, tagging Stauss back in.

From the second rope, Strauss landed with an impressive Diving Reverse Elbow and got his body on top of Sanders for a 2.5 count.

Lifting Paul up, Strauss hurt him with a Rib Breaker and wasn't content with that...

Gutwrench Suplex coming up...

Got it!

Could it achieve victory?

One...

Two...

No, it couldn't.  Strauss was going to try again, albeit with a different variant, as he hoisted Sanders up...

Belly-to-Back Suplex.

One...

Two...

Similar result.

Strauss had done even more than Brady, and had just as much success as his huge partner.  Strauss rammed Paul's head into The Law's corner and brought the bigger man back in.

Immediately, a Throat Thrust.  Yet, unlike The Players, the referee ignored that blatant breach of the rules.  Did he not see it?

While this was more legal, Brady picked Paul up with no regard and deprived him of even more air, courtesy of a Midsection Stun Gun on the middle rope!

Brady took off to the southern part of the squared circle, returning with interest and an effective Leaping Body Guillotine, crushing Paul in the process.

Brady pushed Paul's head down and landed with a Legdrop!

1...

2...

Paul put his foot on the rope!

Brady dragged The Player back to his feet and whipped him into the far corner in the bottom left -hand side...

CRIME KICK!!!

MISSES!!!

Brady's aptly-named equivalent of the Yakuza Kick saw him catch his long left leg up in the ropes and now he was limping.

He was limping, but still tried to stop Paul, even though Sanders was close.  Could Brady get there?

NO!

TAG!

Brady tried to cut Kid Chameleon off with a Clothesline and when Kid ducked underneath, Brady attempted a BIG boot...

One Dragon Screw Leg Whip!

Ouch.

If that wasn't enough...

Double Dragon Screw Leg Whip!!  In fact, Kid stood up with Brady's leg still in his hand.  He brought the powerhouse down to size with a Single Leg Takedown and then dropped a well-placed Elbow to the inside.

The Mark:  "Stand Leg Clutch into Elbow Drop."

Gains:  "That's the whole name of the move?"

The Mark:  "Yup."

For you old school Wrestling fans, you may associate that aforementioned spot with 'The Hitman' Bret Hart.  And, this also looked suspiciously familiar...

Parting Brady's legs, oh gross, a vicious Headbutt to the abdomen.  Kid calls that a 'Head Bomber.'  And wasn't it funny that the smallest man in the match was having his way with its largest competitor?  There's no doubt that Chameleon was the most talented athlete and wrestler in this offering though, and he was showing that.

In fact, he was...

TERRY SPECIAL!

An old-fashioned Stepover Toehold, twisted three times, had Brady in all kinds of trouble.  He stopped and ushered a knee to the inside of Brady's leg once again.

Strauss entered, and the ref jumped up to meet him.  This gave the other officers at ringside the opportunity to enter, but Sanders, ever the athlete himself, jumped down off the apron and sped towards them without a second though.  He threw punches at two, but the third guy snuck in underneath the bottom rope.  As Paul tried to turn and stop him, the other two chucked bombs back at him in response.  There was not much more he could do.

The spare guy sledged Kid to the back of the head and then rolled out back to his original standing spot.  As the referee turned round, conveniently a second afterwards, he saw Sanders and the other two fighting.  The official instructed them to stop or he'd rule this a draw.  Sanders returned to his part of the ring.

Back on the battlefield, Brady, staggering to his feet, picked Kid up and demonstrated that tremendous strength...

Gorilla Press Slam...

No, wait a second...

Gorilla Press SPINEBUSTER!  The impact was IMMENSE and the audience gasped.  Chameleon wasn't moving either.

Gains:  "Game Over, Mark!"

Aw, I think a few oof us felt that.  A round of applause came from their entourage.  In fairness, Brady didn't make a fuss and vacated right so Brady could substitute for him.

Strauss picked up where his partner had left off by lifting Kid up...

Vertical Gorilla Press Drop!

Kid had been up in the air without clocking the miles.  Now, it was Strauss' turn, via the second rope...

He waited and waited until he had Chameleon's attention and leapt, looking to land with a superb Shoulderblock...

BANG!

I PITY THA FOOL, some fans chanted.

Others cheered and there were those who took a breath.

The Mark screamed:  "DRAGON PUNCH!!!!!!!!!"

That was a hell of a VERY European Uppercut.

One...

Two...

Thr...Brady barely gets there to make the save by pulling Kid off Strauss' body.

Just as Kid seeks a Soccerball Kick in tribute to 'EA Sports,' one of the other officers pulled him out of the ring.  Chameleon, upon turning, attacked all three of the Law sidemen without any retaliation.  Brady tapped the referee on the shoulder, who saw Kid attacking their sidekicks, seemingly without provocation.

The Mark:  "They say respect The Law...how can you respect these D-bags?"

Suddenly, the authority figured called for the bell and Brent declared:  "The winners off this match, due to a disqualification...THE LAW!"

Open-mouthed, The Mark put his hands on his head as Melissa shrugged and Gains laughed:  "WAIT!  WHAT?!"

What a DREADFUL decision.  Sanders spat on the canvas in disgust, hardly exemplary but somewhat understandable.

And Paul didn't exactly endear himself to parents everywhere by kicking a gloating Brady south of the border, it didn't matter now the match was over, making him keel over...

TRAILBLAZER (Rocker Dropper.) 

"YEAH, PAUL."

The snivelling referee was the next on Paul's hitlist until he legged it out of there and, surprise surprise, given a ride in the back of The Law's escort vehicle!  Hmm...Very suspicious.

Strauss attacked Sanders with a pair of punches.  His Irish Whip, however, was reversed into Chameleon's path.

Kid, somehow had the strength to scoop up the 287-pounder, albeit not for long, and that didn't matter...

MEGA DRIVE!!! 

The Mark MARKED out, as always, whenever he saw Kid's traditional finisher get an airing.  He had other unconscious-rendering weapons in his repertoire.

The Michinoku Driver put Strauss to sleep and while The Players had lost on a technicality, a shady one according to the majority of the masses, they'd put in a fine performance against a very physical tandem and were, essentially, the last men standing.  Back in the western world and on the back of a few wins here or there, The Players had the potential to become one of the top tag teams in the game.

 

It will Happen

 

Backstage once more we're joined by Trent McKnight and one of the lumberjacks earlier in the night.

"Incredible night thus far! I'm here joined by one of the men that acted as a barrier for the brutal Blitzkrieg Championship match earlier tonight." He gestured at the seven foot three Colossus to his right, "Spike Saunders!"

The fans cheered as the giant came into view fully. Well best they could to still fit Trent in the frame as more than a speck of dust!

"Thanks Trent. We had some fun out there."

"It had to have been a bit conflicting for you. Knowing your friendship with Ravage and being asked by Newbludd to do the work?"

"Sure. But here's the thing Trent, Ravage doesn't need help. Sure the Handsome Man Modeling School has been assisting him. But he doesn't need it. And honestly given what went down I don't think any form of interference would have changed that outcome."

"This was the final match between those two. If Ravage wants the title he'll have to start at the bottom of the line again. Do you think he'll still be drawn to it?" Trent questioned the big man.

"I think Ravage needs to take some time off and consider his position and options. He's lucky you know that he's not going to be force fed through a straw at their family Christmas dinner."

"And what of you?" Saunders just looked at Trent, "Word is that you had asked for a match tonight but due to the already stacked show Harmen wasn't able to get you a spot tonight."

"Yep. Castonovo is hiding somewhere in the back, or maybe he already left once he found out that the match was off. Who knows. But after the new year, at SLAM, it's going to be the Adriatic Gargoyle one on one with the Colossus. And I'm putting an end to this."

"That should be a great match, no doubt. Well-"

"It'll be a fight, Trent. Nothing less."

"I see. Well thank you for joining me here and goodluck!"

Saunders headed off camera while the scene faded on out.

 

Max Hopper vs The Great Wall

 

Brent Williams stood in the middle of the ring, microphone ready. “The following contest is scheduled for one fall. It is a semi-final match in the Keystone Title Top Contenders Tournament!”

One by one, each section of the arena went dark. It was almost as if someone, or something, had tampered with the lights. The Epic II Arena was transformed into an eerie green. A thick cloud of fog rolled in. It was almost…alien.

Brent Williams apologized to the nbW faithful. “Ladies and gentleman, please excuse the interruption. We seem to be having problems with the - “ His feed cut out and was replaced by a screeching noise. Then, as if someone were switching dials on a radio, voices came through the speakers.

“I… Want… To… Believe!” the radio voices announced. Then the sound system roared to life with the geek punk classic “U.F.O.” by Boris the Sprinkler.

Amidst all the green, the Epicenter came to life, with a silvery object zooming to and fro in the distance. It grew closer, and closer, until finally it was quite clear and almost close enough to touch.

It was a flying saucer! A hatch door opened, lowering a stairway, and a bright, white light emanated from within the strange craft. A shadowy figure slowly took one step after another until it reached the ground. Finally, the mysterious being stood in the entryway, surrounded by the same bright, white light. The hatch door closed, and the U.F.O. sped off. When it vanished from the Epicenter, the same silvery object appeared above the crowd in the form of a large, silvery, saucer-shaped balloon!

As Jesse Ventura once said in an episode of The X-Files, “No other object has been misidentified as a flying saucer more often than the planet Venus.” However, this was not the planet Venus. This was the “Space Pimp” Max Hopper! He stepped into the aisle, flinging his arms out wide. The nbW crowd ate up every minute of it, especially when he strolled up to a young fan who squealed with glee. He put his hand on the child’s shoulder and pointed up to the U.F.O. floating overhead. Frightened, the little one clung to his dad’s leg.

“It’s okay,” Max assured him, ruffling his hair. “That’s my ride!” With that, he danced his way to the ring, to wait for probably his largest opponent to date, the Great Wall. He pulled his “Max Hopper: I Want To Believe” t-shirt off over his head, tossing it into the crowd. Beaming his smile as bright as a close encounter, he snapped his fingers and the arena’s lights were restored to normal!

“I don’t see how Max Hopper could possibly escape this one,” C.G. Gains remarked. “The Great Wall is HUUUUGE! Hopper’ll be flattened like a pancake! By the way, you can get a great deal on pancakes at Burger King. They’re three for 89¢. What a steal!”

“Well, he’s definitely going to have to rely on his quickness to stay out of the Great Wall’s clutches,” Melissa van der Aart conceded, “but I could see him pulling it off!”

“Don’t be such a pervert, Melissa!”

“What?”

Brent Williams finished the introductions. “And his opponent, from Guangzhou, China, tipping the scales at 443 pounds… THE GREAT WALL!”

The heavy metal instrumental remix of “Born in China” by the Immortals flooded the air next. The Great Wall emerged through the curtains. He was so tall that he had to duck in order to make it through. He towered over everyone else in the arena, standing 7’4” tall.

“You know, I once saw a group of tourists taking pictures in front of the Great Wall. They thought they were in front of the REAL Great Wall of China!” C.G. Gains joked.

The Great Wall lumbered toward the ring, giving frightening glares to all the fans who dared reach out to touch him. Many of the fans shrank away from the barricade. When he finally reached ringside, the Great Wall slowly scaled the steps and went over the top rope with ease. He raised his arms into the air and snarled at Max Hopper, pounding his massive chest.

Ding! Ding! Ding!

The match began with the Great Wall lunging to grab Max Hopper, who cleverly avoided the tie-up attempt with a combat roll. The paranormal investigator followed his momentum into  the ropes behind the hulking mass and then the ropes in front of him to build up more speed. Max sprang high into the air for a cross body block, but TGW caught him in mid-air. The Chinese Giant carried him rather nonchalantly around the ring, displaying his raw physical strength, and then hoisted him further up only to plant him in the middle of the mat with a thunderous powerslam, shaking the arena with a loud…


BOOM!


Hopper was flattened out by the impact of almost 450 pounds sandwiching him against the canvas, and it was the perfect opportunity for TGW to try to put the match away early.

ONE!

TWO!


But Max Hopper kicked out! It wasn’t much, not with 443 pounds lying across his chest, but it was enough to get his shoulder up and stop the count. The Great Wall rolled Max Hopper onto his stomach and took a seat on the small of his back. His hands seemed to envelop the paranormal investigator’s head as he wrenched back on the chin. He had Max in a bad way, and he knew it, smiling… DEVILISHLY!

The referee asked Max Hopper if he wanted to submit. Unable to shake his head, Max waved him off, then he let his arms go back to flailing about like two halves of a recently dissected worm. The Great Wall was really dishing out the punishment and doing a terrific job of wearing down his rival in tonight’s contest.

There wasn’t much that Max could do. He couldn’t push himself up to his knees with someone who weighed as much as a small elephant on his back. He tried to drag himself to the ropes, but that proved to be too difficult, too. As much as he clawed at the Great Wall’s hands to loosen his grip, he couldn’t separate the intertwined fingers. He did, however, manage to pryt one finger away from the others, and it just happened to be near enough to his mouth for him to chomp down on it.

The Great Wall bellowed and stood up, trying to shake the pain out of his finger. Relieved of the great weight on his back, Hopper pushed himself to his knees. He was soon flattened out again, however, by a clubbing forearm blow to his back. The Great Wall rolled him off of his stomach and dropped a bulky leg over Max Hopper’s chest. He went for a lateral press.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE
- NO! Another shoulder up by the paranormal investigator.

The Great Wall stood up, towering above Max Hopper, and then stooped over to drag the paranormal investigator to his feet by his head. With a handful of Max Hopper’s hair, TGW jumped into the air and nearly chopped Hopper’s skull in half! Max dropped to his knees, but the Great Wall held him from collapsing all the way to the canvas. He pulled Hopper back to his feet again and whipped him into the ropes. When MaX-Files came back, The Chinese Giant scooped him up in a tilt-a-whirl…

Which was countered with a tilt-a-whirl headscissors! The Great Wall found himself on the mat for the first time this evening, and with the giant being slow to get up, Max Hopper found a  minute to breathe. Once both men were standing, the paranormal investigator charged at the Great Wall, who lifted a big boot into air! Quick on his feet, Hopper ducked underneath and put on the breaks. TGW turned around, right into the…

GENETIC CLONE OF PÉLÉ KICK!

It rocked the Great Wall, but he didn’t go down. So the Space Pimp stepped out to the ring apron and used the top rope as a springboard for a high flying clothesline that took the big man off his feet and got the crowd onto theirs! Max followed up with a standing shooting star press. Now it was his turn to go for the pin!

ONE!

TWO!


But The Great Wall kicked out with AUTHORITY!

Max knew he had to stay on the attack, he he scrambled up to the top rope and motioned for TGW to stand up. The Chinese Giant climbed back to his feet. He still hadn’t found Max Hopper yet when the Space Pimp hurled himself from the top turnbuckle, with his fist zeroing in on the biggest sciatic nerve it would ever get the chance to target.

ANAL PROBE!

The ass-punch connected. How could it miss with a target that big? J-Lo would have been jealous of the junk in the Great Wall’s trunk.

Anyway, with the Great Wall stunned and rubbing his oversized caboose, MaX-Files seized the opportunity to leap onto the Chinese Giant’s back and lock on a sleeper hold. This was short-lived, as the paranormal investigator was summarily sandwiched into the turnbuckles. The Great Wall turned around and spread Max Hopper open in the corner, unleashing a violent open-handed chop into his chest!

SMACK!


Hopper covered up, but TGW spread his defenses open again. Another chop!

SMACK!

The first two chops alone had left welts, but the third one left Max’s chest looking like it had suffered phaser burn.

SMACK!

The paranormal investigator folded his arms over his chest like a mummy and collapsed to his knees. There was an air of satisfaction about the Great Wall as he turned to the crowd, taunting them with a muscle man pose. The gigantic competitor loomed over his adversary and pulled him up to his feet from behind with a handful of hair. He then stuck his head underneath Max Hopper’s arm and lifted him into the air, delivering a tremendous atomic drop!

MaX-Files was walking funny, holding his own bootay, now. With the match once again firmly under his control, TGW turned the paranormal investigator around and pressed him high above his head. He casually walked around the ring, pressing Max Hopper up and down like it was a light workout, before finally slamming him to the mat. It was more than a ten foot fall!

The Great Wall grinned and put his giant boot on Max Hopper’s chest.

ONE!

TWO!


But Max kicked out! That kind of cover just wasn’t going to get a win.

The Great Wall beamed from ear to ear, peeling Hopper off the canvas again. Max tried to fight back, firing off lefts and rights to the big man’s chest, but the Chinese Giant shrugged them off and knocked him right back down with a giant headbutt!

The paranormal investigator just lay there for a minute, until he finally rolled over to the ropes. He tried to use them to pull himself up, but the Great Wall descended upon him, choking him against the same ropes he had hoped would be his salvation!

The referee stepped in, issuing a warning to break the hold in the form of a stern count.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

FOUR!

TGW finally released his clasp and stepped away, assuring the referee that there was no need to disqualify him. The referee read him the riot act, shaking his finger at him like a mother scolding her child, and when the Great Wall turned to go back to work on his opponent, he was met with a…

SUPERKIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIICK!

It sent the Great Wall stumbling back and produced a small window of opportunity for Max Hopper, who once again stepped to the ring apron and sprung off the top rope. This time he was looking for the big win.

HOPPER!
CAN!


GET ALLEY OOPED!


Using his strength, the Great Wall had once again caught Max Hopper in mid-air, launching him overhead with an alley oop! The Space Pimp’s flight path carried him far enough to spring off the ropes behind TGW, however, and he twisted his body to drive the Chinese Giant’s face into the mat with a bulldog! Max tried his best to shove the Great Wall to the ropes, mumbling about wanting his hops, but it wasn’t working.

So, instead, the paranormal investigator backed up and waited for the giant to get back to his feet of his own volition. Once the Great Wall was standing, Max drilled him with a SUPERKIIIIIIIIIICK that sent TGW back-first into the corner. The Space Pimp ran up the ropes adjacent to the Chinese Giant…

HOPPER!

CAN!

RANA!!!


Success! The Hopper can rana sent the Great Wall tumbling out of the corner and onto his back. Max Hopper quickly grabbed both of the Chinese Giant’s bulky legs and flipped over into a bridging pin.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!


DING! DING! DING!


He had done it! Max Hopper had overcome the odds to beat the Great Wall!

“Your winner,” Brent Williams announced, “and advancing to the Keystone Tournament Top Contenders Final, MAX HOPPER!”

 

 

 

The Entertainers vs The Rich Family

 

 'THE VERY BEST!'

JME's rap song with the same title brings out a competitor with that very name - Darren Best.

Two hands aloft, sporting blue full-length tights with white text bearing his name, Darren is rewarded with a really good reception.  Oh wait...

'Let Me Entertain You.'

Joining Darren, the cocky Cockney, Alfie Button.

Waggling all of his fingers, clearly seeking attention and actually attaining it, Alfie playfully barges into Best, who doesn't budge, from behind.  Upon doing it a second time, Best responds by looking and Alfie's index finger instructs him to gaze up at the big screen.

'Snivelling Sons of Riches are about to get bitched."

That made a few people snigger.  Button nudged Best and stormed to the ring, sliding underneath the bottom rope and onto the top turnbuckle in the lower right-hand corner of the ring, where he gains more acclaim from an appreciative audience.  He urges Darren to join him, but the more level-headed member of the pair takes him time; a stark contrast to the psyched-up Englishman, who leaps off the turnbuckle with a bounce and a distinct swagger in his step, blurring the lines between arrogance and intensity.  Either way, The Entertainers are raring to go.

Todd and Declan Rich halted the calm before the storm, well at least for them, and received their fair share of boos, particularly with no theme song to drown out this capacity crowd.  They approached the ringside, becoming increasingly nervous as they clapped eyes on Alfie and Darren, who were smarting from the 6-man defeat at Slam 85.

The Entertainers seemed to be waiting, almost daring Todd and Declan.  In fact, they weren't hanging around at all...

Jumping The Shark on Declan!

Alfie dove through the two bottom ropes to catch Frank Rich's middle child with a Suicide Dive-cum-Tornado DDT! 

Tope Con Hilo on Todd, provided by Darren Best!

What a start by The Entertainers.

Todd, who must've been taken aback by that, didn't know where he was as Darren rolled him into the battlefield.  The bell sounded and we were officially at the races.  On the outside, Alfie demonstrated patience for once before unleashing 'Dammit' - an Apron Forearm Smash.  He left Dec out there and returned to The Entertainers' corner, stationed on the right side of the ring.

Darren copped a sly dig from Todd, who was just getting to his feet.  A second shot was telegraphed and promptly punished by a Belly-to-Back Backbreaker.

More of the same, Todd?

Best tied Todd up and then complemented the previous spot with a Hammerlock Belly-to-Back Suplex.  All one-way traffic thus far as the camera captures Declan finally making his way to the corner.

Meanwhile, Best sent Todd to the buckle.  Sensing that Todd was coming out to meet him, Darren exited right and tripped his opponent from outside of the ring, grabbing both legs and dragging them so Todd's testicles cracked the steel post!  The crowd got a cheap laugh out of it and Darren received a warning for his troubles, though not without telling the same referee they'd been screwed on the previous edition of Slam during the 6-man with Alfie and Donny involved, who concluded the finish, thanks to 'The First' Freddie Rich's decisive interference.  More on those two later.  Presumably, this was a bit of payback.

Darren dragged Todd towards his waiting partner, tagging Alfie in.  He warmed the crowd up instantly...

I PITY THA FOOL
I PITY THA FOOL

In case you weren't aware, the crowd chanted Mr T's catchphrase along with Alfie every time he nailed anyone and everyone with a smash-mouth European Uppercut.

Taking Todd by the head, the cheeky Cockney unearthed a Cliffhanger, better known to the common man as Hair-Pull Hangman.

Eager to inflict more punishment rather than showboat, which makes a change, Alfie charged back in and hung Todd out to dry with a Slingshot Float Suplex, the TV addict has dubbed 'Survey Says.'  Ordinarily, I'd say he needs to get the audience interacting with him on that, but the European Uppercut is more than enough.

1...

2...


Too early.

The Englishman unleashed an Irish Whip and followed it up with a Commercial Break (Hesitation Dropkick.)  Todd had endured a right hiding thus far, and as he struggled to get to his feet, it was fixed to get even worse...

AY, SUPERKICK!

One...

Two...


Declan was there to deny Alfie a sure-fire three and an early bath with Ashley and Chelsea.  While the official ushered the intruder out, Alfie elected to bring Best back into the fray, but not before slamming Todd first.  The Entertainers took one look at each other...

OUTStanding Moonsault by Best!

You know Alfie's mantra?

Whatever Darren can do, he can do better.

HEERE'S ALFIE!  (Standing Shooting Star Press.)

Gorgeous combination - and the moves weren't too shabby either.

Best made a cover...

One...

Two...


There's Declan again with a kick to the head.

Shaking that off, Best whipped Todd into the Rich corner, which is uncharacteristic of the thinking man's technician.  He soon paid for it as his Corner Splash was foiled, not because of Todd, but that man Declan.  You see, he'd tagged Todd on the back and surprised Darren with a stunning Springboard Clothesline in a far speedier fashion than it took for me to document the exchange in its entirety.

Right away, Declan jumped on top of Darren and didn't hold back with a flurry of fists, totalling about eight altogether, with the referee counting the young man, who broke on the stroke of four.

For good measure, Declan scraped his boot along the side of Best's head - shades of his big brother, Freddie?

Declan 'helped' Best, only to smash Darren with a Double Knee Facebreaker.

1...

2...


Not yet.

Declan stuck at it, standing Darren up and perhaps this will convince Best to stay down?

Brainbuster!

1...

2....


...and a half!!

Declan then launched Darren out of the ring and taunted Alfie, who was only too happy to indulge the Rich kid until Button spotted Todd drop down from the apron and approach Best.  Alfie knew it was a ploy and wasn't going to stand for it - figuratively or literally.  He vacated his pleasant plot of land on the apron and ran around the ring to confront Todd.  The senior member of the Family, Freddie's absence noted, thought on his feet and rolled back into the ring to pretend he was discussing things with Declan.  The referee's eyes never left Alfie the whole time, thus he never actually saw how close Todd was to sticking the boots to Best.

With the official pre-occupied by Alfie's complaints, which grew LOUDER, Todd and Declan double-teamed Darren with a barrage of kicks and punches to a defenceless New York native, enraging the audience.

By the time the authority figure turned round, Todd had long gone and Declan was bringing Darren up to do whatever he wanted to.

Only he wouldn't.  Best surprised Dec with two body shots, one either side, fighting back.  A knee to the gut halted Darren's daring comeback and that was cemented when Dec rammed Darren's head into Todd's boot in the corner, tagging out legally.

Todd, who'd endured a horrible beating, had sufficiently healed to start dishing it out in return and released a few rib-ticklers to Best, pressed up against the northern set of ropes.

A whip to the fire side was a set-up for something far more painful:  A Pop-Up Kick to the midsection.  Ouch!  Not that Todd was done there.  He was getting his own back, all right - Hangman's Neckbreaker and a hook of the leg...

1...

2....


Buoyed, Todd stopped the scrambling Darren, seeking a tag, with a couple of sledges to the back and put him to bed with a Blue Thunder Bomb.  Would it see Best go to sleep?

1...

2....


2 and a half, but Button 'used up' a life by coming in to save the day.  Who knows what would have happened otherwise.

Either way, Todd knew he was getting closer to putting Darren away.  He'd take it up a notch and by that, Todd was taking a page out of Button's book and heading upstairs.  Declan was all for it, applauding his cousin and encouraging him...

Flying Headbutt!

Darren MOVED.

The count was on.  Todd, like he had seen Vic Gravender first-hand at Legacy, was suffering from hitting the mat with so much oomph.  Could Darren bring his fresher, fitter and faster partner in?

Yes, he could!

Todd tried to cut the incoming Cockney off with a Clothesline only to get cracked by Match of The Day (Overhead kick.)

Declan was back, but only to miss a Reverse Elbow, which was then capitalised on by a Springboard Moonsault Press, which Alfie named after Reality show, Britain's Got Talent. 

One...

Two...
Todd broke it up with a diving sledge to the head.

BACKDROP DRIVER BY BEST!

That took care of Todd.

Alfie shocked Declan with a Bobby Dazzler!  That being a Kip-Up Hurricanrana, which also satisfied the spectators, who were on their feet - as were Darren and Alfie themselves.

Diving Legdrop by Darren and a Shooting Star courtesy of Alfie equals THAT'S ENTERTAINMENT.

ONE...

TWO..
.

TODD STOPS IT AGAIN!  He did well to recover from the Backdrop Driver.  Darren, who'd left the ring while Alfie tried to seal victory, returned with a vengeance and a Leg Lariat with Todd's name on, sending Rich out of the squared circle.  He duly went after Todd with the official in pursuit.

Out of nowhere, Donny came out from underneath the ring in front of our two commentators, C.G Gains happy to see the young pup, who beckoned for Gains to quieten down.

Alfie, unbeknownst to this, is focused on Declan and waiting to get onto the top rope looking to hit the 720 DDT, Season Finale!  If he can do it before Donny intervenes, well, it's a race against time as Donny is about to retrieve a steel chair from the timekeeper's  position.  This could all depend on how long it takes Declan to get up.  Todd and Darren are brawling up the aisle at this point.

Declan's in position, but  so is Donny and Alfie, watching Dec like a hawk, has no idea what lies behind him...

STEEL CHAIR SHOT TO THE BACK!

A hit-and-run attack of the highest order.  Donny dropped the chair and legged it through the fans, eager to distance him from the scene of the crime.

Declan 'helped' Alfie, who was in agony, with a Slingshot Suplex back into the ring and covered the hapless Briton.  The referee soon realised this.  So did Darren, who'd just floored Todd with a Clothesline outside, but as he bolted away, he was stuck in the mud - Todd hanging onto Darren's left leg for dear life.

ONE...

TWO...
  Darren stamps on Todd to get free...

BUT IT'S THREE!!!
Donny, regarded as the runt of the litter, wherever he may right now, had been the difference between defeat and victory for The Rich Family on two consecutive shows, pinning Ali with help from Freddie on our last edition of Slam and then reprising his sibling's role to allow Declan pin Alfie.

While Best's protests predictably fell on deaf ears, Todd and Declan put their arms around each other and staggered off into the night, supporting the other's bid to stand up, but make no mistake about it...

With smiles on their faces.  The Rich Family, fresh off a disappointing run of form, were back to winning ways and had overcome the electrifying outfit of The Entertainers, who had come up short for the second consecutive pay-per-view.

Darren consoled his brash other half; Alfie was going to need some kind of assistance to get back up on his feet, let alone leave here.

Little did Declan and Todd care, who'd celebrate long into the night, especially if Freddie could make it a double against Ali Amore later on.

 

The Birds and the Bees...

 

In the middle of a shopping mall, a tall guy, somewhere between 6'5 and 6'7, stands out with his red headband and bleach blonde hair. 

Just in front of him, there's a pregnant woman with her daughter, both blonde too.  The child is 5 years old.

"Mommy, can I have a brother?"

Her mother laughed and adjusted her handbag consequently:  "It doesn't work like that."

"Why not?  The birds and bees talk and say if it's a boy or a girl, don't they?"

"No, sweetie.  They only talk and then everyone waits to see if it's a boy or a girl.  It's a surprise."

Our man suddenly tapped the woman, who was a bit startled, on the shoulder:  "Can I help explain this to your daughter, ma'am?"

"Er....

Before she could get the words out, Chris, as he called himself last week, started:  "Your mom and dad think the other one is hot.  They regularly have what is called sex, normally when you're asleep, and when your dad gets a little bit too excited, he..."

"I think you should go!"

He shrugged his shoulders:  "My name's Chris Smith and I'm keeping it real...for the kids."

 

Matt Meyhy vs Richie Keal

 

“Looks like it’s now time for some Keystone tournament semi-final action.” Melissa van der Art said.

“My Name is Richie Keal” played over the speakers as Richie stepped out, cup of coffee in hand. The fans let out some cheers as Richie made his way down the ramp. He stopped briefly to acknowledge them, which sent a few drops of hot coffee down his hand. He switched the cup to the other hand as he tried to cool the first one off again. He slides what’s left of the coffee into his corner and rolls into the ring.

“Introducing first… the personal assistant of General Manager Jack Harmen, Richie Keal!”

Richie smiled at the fans as they reacted positively to Brent Williams announcement.

“La… La, La La… Wait till I get my money right.”

‘Can’t Tell Me Nothing’ hit the speakers and ‘The Marvel’ Matt Meyhu stepped out onto the ramp, ready to make his NBW debut. As he walked down the ramp, with green lights flashing along the way, he dodged and faked fans, earning several thumbs down. Equipped with a signature smirk, he leapt up onto the ring apron where he paused for a moment before climbing through the ropes.

“From Chicago, Illinois… Weighing 240 pounds. He is ‘The Marvel!’ Matt Meyhu!”

Meyhu shot a confident nod toward ring announcer ring announcer Brent Williams.

DING DING DING!

The bell rang and the two men wasted no time locking up in the center of the ring. Matt was quickly able to force the much smaller Richie back into the corner with little effort. Matt jammed his forearm into the throat of Richie until the ref was able to force his way in between them. As Matt backpedaled into the to the center of the ring, the fans booed. Richie caught his breath and headed right back into action. He lunged at Matt, only to be sent falling to the mat with a hard right hand.

Matt taunted his smaller foe, who did not back down. Richie sprung right back to his feet and charged back in. This time, he ducked under the big right hand flying at him and ricocheted off the ropes. A hard collision with Matt sent Richie staggering backwards. Matt grabbed ahold of Richie and whipped him hard off the ropes. Richie returned only to be tossed up into the air before falling face first onto the mat. Matt kicked Richie in the ribs to roll him over before covering him.

One!

Two!


Kickout by Richie!

Matt was quick to his feet, dragging Richie with him. He shoved Richie into the corner and began a series of kicks to the gut. The ref counted each one carefully before forcing Matt to back off. Matt played innocent with his hands in the air as Richie held his stomach, doubled over. Before he was able to recover, Matt charged back in, connected with a clothesline into the corner. He grabbed Richie by the wrist and pulled him back into the center of the ring, where he lifted him up for a press slam, dropping him flat on his back. Meyhu flexed for the crowd, but received no positive feedback. He looked on as Richie rolled over and began crawling for the ropes.

Matt struck with a hard kick to the side that knocked Richie back into his back, this time under the bottom rope. Matt grabbed the top rope and shoved his boot into the throat of Richie. The ref is forced once again the intervene, this time striking a nerve with Matt, who began to yell back at him. Matt sticks his finger in the ref’s face, but he didn’t back down. A screaming match ensued until Matt was tripped up and rolled up with a school boy!

One!

Two!


Kickout by Matt!

The crowd let out a sigh as Matt got his shoulder up just in time to avoid an early defeat. He shot back to his feet and clobbered Richie with a clothesline. Matt grabbed a handful of Richie’s hair and yanked him back up to his feet, sending him into the ropes. Matt flipped Richie over with a high back body drop, which made Richie bounce off the mat before sitting up. He held his back in pain. Matt crouched down and locked Richie in a chinlock. The trapped Richie looked around for a way out.

Matt tightened his grip, but Richie refused to quit. The applause from the audience fueled his will, as he rolled into his side and forced his way up to his knees. The grip was hard to break, but progress toward the ropes was made. Richie was finally able to reach out and snag the middle rope with his finger tips.

One!

Two!

Three!

Four!

Matt was forced to release. Richie took a moment to catch his breath as Matt and the ref shared words once again. Matt stomped over to Richie, who was now pulling himself up to his feet with the help of the ropes. The crowd cheered as Richie felt Matt creeping up on him and struck with a back elbow to the jaw. Matt was stunned momentarily, which gave Richie enough time to wind up and strike with a forearm to the jaw. Matt staggered back, holding his face. Richie backed into the ropes and got a running start at Matt, only to whipped to the Matt immediately with a powerslam. Matt hooked the leg.

One!

Two!


Kickout by Richie again!

Matt was quick to his feet again and taunted Richie to get back up. The fans let him hear it. As Richie returns to his feet, Matt pointed at his own jaw, inviting Richie to take his best shot. Without any hesitation, Richie wound up and struck Matt hard with a kick, turning his head. The fans cheered as Matt took a moment. He fired back with a huge left hand, but Richie ducked under it. Matt did half a turn before being brought down with a back slide!

One!

Two!


Kickout by Matt!

Just like the last near fall for Richie, Matt sprung to his feet quickly and was in attack mode. This time, however, Richie was waiting for it. He baited Matt in close and tripped him up with a drop toe hold. Matt fell to the mat face first and found himself in a headlock. The fans continued to cheer Richie on as a furious Matt tried to get out of the position he found himself in. After brushing off questions from the ref, Matt forced his way up to his knees and then finally his feet. He hoised Richie up off the ground for back suplex, but Richie let the momentum carry him and he landed on the mat behind his opponent. A dropkick to the back sent Matt stumbling through the ropes and onto the ring apron.

As the fans and Richie both began to pick up steam, Matt found himself reevaluating his attack. He climbed back through the ropes and was met with a flurry of kicks by the fired up Richie. Matt was backed into the corner before being whipped across to the opposite side, but he reversed it. Richie hit the corner and was followed closely by Matt. Richie got his foot up and stopped Matt right in his tracks. Richie was quick to hop up onto the second rope and launch himself toward Matt, grabbing him around the neck for a tornado DDT. Matt refused to go down though. He kept his footing and eventually managed to sling Richie to the mat with a side slam. Matt regrouped up against the ropes as Richie began to stir. Richie finally got back to his feet but was met with a knee to the gut.

Matt grabbed Richie by the head and picked him up for a vertical suplex. As he held him high, Richie began to shake his feet and escaped down behind Matt. Matt spun around into a kick to the mid section. This time Richie went for the suplex! Matt did a good job of staying planted, though. He swung it into a neckbreaker to Richie. Matt went for the cover again.

One!

Two!


Another kickout by Richie!

Matt began to show frustration this time. He picked Richie up and quickly sent him into the turnbuckle. Matt grabbed onto the middle rope and began driving shoulders into the stomach of Richie before pulling him toward the center of the ring and again attempting the suplex. He successfully got Richie into the air and stalled for a few moments, even taking the time to remove his hand before driving Richie into the mat hard. He went for another cover.

One!

Two!


Kickout by Richie!

The fans cheered some more as Richie continued to fight against Matt. Matt stood over Richie and watched him crawl for the ropes. Before he could get there, Matt grabbed onto Richie’s foot and pulled him into the center of the ring, locking in an ankle lock. Richie let out a scream as Matt tightened his grip on the ankle. The ref crouched down to check on Richie. Clapping and stomping echoed in from the crowd as Richie shook the ref off. He began to inch his way toward the ropes, again fueled by the fans in attendance. Matt struggled to keep Richie away from the ropes as the underdog’s second wind carried him. With one last effort, Richie dove for the ropes and latched on to the bottom rope. The fans went crazy! After refusing to break the hold, Matt pulled as hard as he could and drug Richie back into the middle of the ring.

However, Richie managed to roll over and connect with a kick to the face of Matt with his free foot. The hold was finally broken. Richie scrambled to his feet during the momentary break. He didn’t get much separation, though, as Matt snapped back and was in pursuit. Richie got to the corner as Matt approached like a raging bull. Matt lunged at his opponent, but Richie side stepped and sent Matt crashing shoulder first into the ring post, much to the amusement of the crowd. Matt dropped to a knee, nursing his shoulder, and Richie stood behind him. After a running start, Richie springboarded off the middle turnbuckle as Matt stood back up. He caught Matt by the head and this time successfully drove him into the mat with a tornado DDT! The fans went wild as Richie covered Matt.

One!

Two!


Kickout by Matt!

This time, Matt was slower back to his feet. Richie capitalized with a kick to the chest and shoved Matt back into the ropes. He whipped Matt across the ring, but it was reversed. Richie hit the ropes and returned, turning his head just in time to duck around a big clothesline attempt. Richie hopped up onto the middle rope and spun around into a crossbody! Matt caught him out of the air. Matt tried to toss Richie up onto his shoulder, but Richie escaped down behind him. Richie quickly grabbed onto Matt and drove him into the mat with a russian leg sweep right in the middle of the ring!

The crowd began to cheer some more as Richie climbed through the ropes onto the apron and scaled the turnbuckle. He positioned himself carefully on the top rope and looked down at Matt, who is flat on his back still. Richie leaps off for a splash! Just before impact, Matt got his knees up and Richie crashed into them. He held his ribs on the mat as the fans let out a groan. Matt doesn’t take much time as he shot back to his feet and brought Richie with him. He set up for the Ego Trip and planted Richie face first into the mat. Matt covered Richie, hooking both legs this time.

One!

Two!

Three!


DING DING DING!

As “Can’t Tell Me Nothing” plays once again, Matt walked over to the corner with his hands high in the air. He kicked the cup of coffee over and smirked.

“Meyhu had a bit of a scare here,” said C.G. Gaines, “but he got out of it alive.”

“We’ll be seeing him in the finals!” exclaimed Melissa.

Matt climbed through the ropes and hopped down onto the floor, making his way to the back. He fired a confident smirk at the fans on his way by them.

 

 

 

Xiang vs SPARK

 

“Coming up next was supposed to be a match between Xiang taking on both Zed and the newcomer Quinlan in a triple threat match, but we’re receiving word that Quinlan was unable to attend tonight’s show for personal reasons.”

C.G. Gains snapped. “Good Lord. Now we’re getting word Xiang was not happy with his match being cancelled. He demanded a match and it was answered by that funny little guy from The Different Breed, Spark! Haven’t they done enough tonight?”

“You mean keeping Ravage from cheating?” Melissa asked. “No. But anyway, Spark accepted the challenge. A win here could mean big things for both of the rising stars! It’s nbW’s Xiang taking on The Different Breed’s Spark and that will take place right now!”

And to the ring we go with Brent Williams.

“The following is a singles match set for one fall!” Brent yelled.

Ready, Steady, Go” by Paul Oakenfold.

A bolt of bright lightning flashed and suddenly appearing out of the darkness was one of the newest arrivals to nbW.

“Introducing first… from Kyoto, Japan, weighing in at 205 pounds... this… is… SPARK!

“SPARK showed a lot of character earlier by taking this challenge!” Melissa said. “The young high-flyer on loan from Kyoto PRO has been looking for a break-out opportunity and perhaps Quinlan and Zed’s misfortune is his gain!”

“He’ll get creamed in three minutes!” CG Gains said. “Watch and learn, SPARK. You keep your nose down and your mouth shut in the locker room.”

The eccentric and talented SPARK high-fived fans on his way down the ring with a big stupid grin on his face. The man in the black and yellow gear with the black and yellow tassels hanging off his arms ran full speed ahead towards the ring! He entered and then jumped to the ropes, running up the rope and backflipping into a perfect landing! He popped the crowd with nice athleticism, but it was time to see what young Yuma Wakaba could do between the ropes with a singles match!

”Born in China” (Metal Remix) by The Immortals

The Xiang Dynasty leader was all business as he walked down the ramp and soaked in the crowd’s boos. The Artist of War was indifferent to the crowd’s reaction, but Xiang did look out to the crowd occasionally and gave them an arrogant sneer. 

“And their opponents! From the People’s Republic of China… weighing in at 216 pounds… this is ”THE ARTIST OF WAR… XIANG!” Williams announced over the boo birds.

Entering the ring, Xiang took off his Chinese flag-themed zip-up hoodie and tossed it aside. He turned to Spark…

AND SPIT ON HIM!

DING DING DING!

The total lack of respect from a xenophobe like Xiang didn’t just limit itself to Americans. He had no respect for anybody of any other culture and he even pie-faced Spark for good measure.

“Nǐ xiǎo máfan!”

After referring to him as a little nuisance, Xiang grabbed him by his bright hair and tried to elbow him, but he was caught off-guard by Spark hauling off and BLASTING him in the face with a big Elbow Smash! Spark caught him with two more Elbow Smashes in the chest and then tried to kick him again. Spark continued to fight and got cheers from the crowd when Xiang shoved him away and created some distance.

That’s when Xiang picked up the pace and kicked him in the gut. The Artist of War grabbed his hair and then tried to whip him across the ring when Spark moved across the ropes and came back with a Running Elbow Smash that put Xiang down on his ass! He was paying for his disrespect of Xiang and then ran at him with another Elbow Smash that put him down a second time!

Spark had the crowd fired up and the little power pack continued drilling Xiang on his jaw with a barrage of Chops!

WHOO!

WHOO!

WHOO!

WHOO!

The crowd was in full support of the young and stocky high-flyer. Mr. High Energy tried to whip The Artist of War across the ring again and went to catch Xiang with a Dropkick, but he grabbed the ropes with both hands and watched Spark fall. When he hit the mat, Xiang took his chance…

XD KICK!

A SICK Penalty Kick caught Spark right in the chest! The crowd cringed from the impact when Xiang kneeled over and went for a cover.

ONE!

TWO!


NO!

Spark kicked out at the count of two, but Xiang was now in control of the match. He ran off the ropes just as Spark tried to get back up and looked to try something else when Spark surprised him with a Dropkick right to the chest! Xiang stumbled backwards from the move and went tumbling through the ropes and out to the floor! Mr. High Energy scanned the crowd and then looked out to Xiang. He smiled to the crowd and they were excited for what was about to happen next…

MECHANICAL WAVE!

Spark shot off like a goddamn rocket and FLEW through the fucking ropes with a high speed Tope that sent Xiang crashing right into the barricade! The crowd went nuts for Spark now as he picked up Xiang and threw him back inside the ring. With that, Spark grabbed the ropes and flung himself over with a Slingshot Senton! He turned around and now he tried to cover Xiang.

ONE!

TWO….
NO!

The Artist of War kicked out at two and pushed Spark away from him. The young Kyoto PRO star then waited to measure up Xiang before he took off to the ropes again. What he didn’t count on was Xiang running right behind him to slip to the outside, simultaneously tripping him up on the mat. Xiang then lifted him to the outside and then picked him up by his neck…

DDT ON THE RING APRON!

He SLAMMED Spark down on ring apron with a DDT and then smiled as his plan had just come together very nicely. Xiang took in the jeers of the crowd and stood on the ring apron smiling before he dragged Spark by his hair slowly and threw him back into the ring. Xiang then tried to pin Spark with a boot on his chest.

ONE!

That show of disrespect got him some more jeers and Spark was more than strong enough to shove his boot back, but Xiang continued to put more pressure on the Kyoto PRO star. He backed up and dropped his kneepad down before DROPPING a vicious Knee Drop right into the back of his skull! He then backed up by grabbing Spark by his arm and whipped him extra HARD into the nearest corner! He shot off the ropes and collided with the ropes hard and when he came back, Xiang connected with a Spinning Heel Kick! After Spark went down again, Xiang made his move and covered The Speedster.

ONE!

TWO!


NO!

Spark’s shoulder came up off the mat, but now Spark’s neck was seriously being worked over at a quick pace. Xiang then crossed the arms and then turned him over into a Goku-Raku Stretch!

The Cross-Armed Camel Clutch variation saw Xiang move Spark into a seated position and then turn him over with a knee pressed into his upper back/neck area.

“Submit!” Xiang screamed. “Submit or I’ll break you in two!”

Spark continued to try and gut out the pain he was in, but Xiang was putting the pressure on him. Even without The Great Wall here with him at ringside from the after-effects of his match, Xiang was still a big force to be reckoned with on his own. He grabbed Spark and then cranked back further with the hold.

“Spark!” Slim J yelled. “Do you give up?”

“No!” Spark shouted.

The crowd cheered on the Kyoto PRO star as he tried to fight his way out of the hold, but Xiang continued to hold it on tightly. That’s when he got to a knee and tried to rise, but Xiang kicked him in the back and DROPPED him down on the back of his neck with a Falling Reverse DDT! Xiang smiled a sinister smile and tried to end Spark’s chances of a big PPV victory!

ONE!

TWO!

THR…
KICKOUT!

Xiang fired a death glare towards Slim J and then turned his focused back to Spark. He picked him up slowly by the hair and then leaped to the second rope. He was looking for the deadly Flying Double Knee Facebreaker that he called The Blood Red Sunset. He leaped…



POWERBOMB!

It was a great power counter by the 5’6” Spark! He caught Xiang and drove him down out of desperation! Xiang held the back of his head in pain and Spark did the same for himself as he now fought to get back to his feet and try to get back on the offensive against Xiang. The Artist of War started to wince and limp upwards to his feet when he noticed Spark rolling on the opposite side of the ring.

“SPARK!
SPARK!
SPARK!
SPARK!
SPARK!”

The chants were coming out for Mr. High Energy as he noticed Xiang get back up to charge at him. Spark evaded the charge by rolling off to the side and Xiang collided right into the turnbuckle! Spark then ran into the ropes and caught in in the ribs with a Tiger Feint Kick through the ropes! Xiang was doubled over now when Spark started to head to the second rope. He flew off…

FRONT DROPKICK!

The blow sent Xiang tumbling over and he staggered backwards into the opposite portion of the ring. Spark then got the crowd behind him by charging like a bullet, connect with a Running Spear right in the corner, catching Xiang right in the gut! The blow doubled him over and then Spark did some of that Karate Kid action to drop Xiang (I’m not being racist. He legit swept the leg and brought Xiang to a seating position.) From there, Spark clapped his hands and got the crowd going as he ran off the opposite side of the ring…

THE BALL OF ENERGY!

Spark used an incredible INVERTED Cannonball in the corner and lit up Xiang before pulling him out of the corner! He was looking for the win now!

ONE!

TWO!

THR…
KICKOUT!

Spark couldn’t believe it! He raised three fingers up to Slim J, but he couldn’t believe that wasn’t enough to finish The Artist of War. Spark took it in stride and then picked up Xiang before dumping him right near a turnbuckle. Spark then climbed to the second rope…

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Apparently, The Great Wall wasn’t content after his earlier match with Max Hopper and came storming down ringside. Spark had his gaze focused on the big man, but that was a big mistake as Xiang got up and grabbed his leg, tripping up Spark and making him drop the back of his head on the top turnbuckle in the process! The Great Wall hadn’t interfered directly, but his looming presence was certainly enough for Xiang to take advantage. He grabbed Spark by his neck and gritted his teeth…

BLOOD RED SUNSET!

Xiang dropped him with a standing version of his finisher, but after the ugly spill, this might have been enough for Xiang to steal one like a dick.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!


Yep. He was a dick.

“This is your winner of the match… XIANG!

Xiang got back up and then had a big grin on his face. He had a big PPV notch on his belt tonight thanks in part to The Great Wall’s presence. The limping heavy of The Artist of War joined him in the ring and angrily grabbed Spark off the mat…

CHOKESLAM!

As if what Xiang did wasn’t bad enough, The Great Wall had dropped him as well with a THUNDEROUS Chokeslam from over 7 feet in the air!

The crowd cheered because Spark’s stablemate, Ai Tso, had apparently seen enough! He charged into the ring like a man possessed to protect his friend, but when he approached the ring, both Xiang and The Great Wall started to put the boots to the young man!

“There’s no need for this!” Melissa shouted.

“Xiang’s tired of being mistreated here! He and The Great Wall are out for blood and they’re gonna get it!”

Ai Tso was picked up by The Great Wall…

THE FIVE STARS VICE!

The Master of the Tsoplex was now being strangled in the massive grip of The Great Wall! He’d felt the deadly submission of the big monster before hand and now he was feeling it again tonight! After he remained motionless, The Great Wall threw Ai Tso down right next to Spark. The Xiang Dynasty were standing tall tonight after this victory tonight. Xiang took a microphone from Brent Williams and shouted.

“No! That’s enough!” Xiang screamed. “This… I demand competition and these two… these two LEECHES are the best this place can come up with? None of the Americans on this roster came out to fight me? It’s a wonder your country let some rich tyrant with a bad hairpiece march right in and run things.”

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Xiang sneered.

“Don’t you DARE boo me for speaking the truth! The Xiang Dynasty will RISE in nbW and The Great Wall and I are going to run this place sooner than later.”

He dropped his microphone with a dull thud and he and The Great Wall departed the ring, leaving bodies in their wake. Perhaps if all of this was true, The Xiang Dynasty would be running things if they could keep up this vicious streak.

 

Earlier on the pre-show.

 

"Well it looks like Xiang is looking to rise back up the ranks!" Gains mentioned as the camera panned over to their table.

"As we head towards closing out the year, it does help the standings of guys like Xiang for the upcoming 25 To Life pay per view event. With only twenty five spots, having an impact like this can help keep his name in the discussion."

"It's not just him! Earlier tonight during our Kickoff preshow Alyx Norwood attempted to answer the challenge of Lucretia and the man on the screen - only to get knocked out after the lights went out."

The EpiCenter II lit up and showed Norwood in the ring, motioning towards the tron when the lights suddenly went out. Several seconds went by before they returned and Norwood was left hanging over the ropes, clearly out of it. The footage faded out and returned to ringside.

"We've been informed that Norwood will get his match at the upcoming End of the Year Holiday Special. "

"Just another few days for Alyx to rethink his place in life before he gives it all away. His choice and all." Gains added, "even if it's a bad one!"

"More time to consider a strategy as well, Craig. Well folks we'll be right back here with the debut of Al Envy!"

 

 

 

Davey La Rue vs Al Envy

 

Melissa Van Der Aart welcomed back the audience.”We get ready for our next event here at Pride as the moment has finally arrived. Al Envy, the world renowned world class wrestler and believe me he isn't afraid to say how good he is, makes his debut here at Pride. But he has a tough draw in his first ever NBW match C.G. Gaines”

C.G. Gaines responded to Melissa “I have seen many tapes of this guy and a lot of hearsay over the man known as the Show Stealer, and since Davey himself is a human highlight reel himself this match could steal the show here at Pride. Which is saying something considering what has happened here so far at this extraordinary event.”

Brian Williams entered into the ring and began the introductions. “Our next contest here at Pride is scheduled for one fall!!”

‘Perfect Stranger’ began to play as the crowd raised to their feet. A mixed reaction echoed through the arena. After a few seconds of anticipated waiting Al Envy finally appeared on the stage.

Brian Williams continued the introduction. “Introducing first, hailing from Fort Worth, Texas and making his NBW debut. The self professed ‘Show Stealer’ of professional wrestling….AAALLL EEENNNVVVYYY!!

Envy with a smirk on his face walked down the ramp. He stopped as a couple of fans started bowing to him. Envy looked into the camera and stated these are smart fans and then continued to the ring. He rolled into the ring and threw his arms up as the crowd reacted with another mixed reaction.

Melissa viewed what had happened and interjected “A very mixed reaction for the arrogant but highly talented Al Envy. But you can bet the next reaction for his opponent coming out here in a second will be all positive.”

Envy paced around the ring as Brian Williams began to introduce his opponent. “And his opponent….from Baton Rouge, Louisiana….DDAAVVEEYY LLAARRUUEE!!!!

“Born This Way” by Thousand Foot Krutch kicked in as a strobe light flashed blue, yellow, red, orange, and green throughout the dimly lit arena. The crowd cheered wildly waited for one of NBW’S most popular stars to enter. After a while though there was no sign of Davey.

C,G. Gaines commented on the situation as Envy continued pacing the ring and warmed up for the match. “What’s going on here? Where is Davey?

The crowd started a Davey chant but still Davey LaRue never came out. Al Envy grabbed Brian Williams’ microphone. “Come on Davey! Hey, I would be nervous wrestling a superstar such as myself. I promise I won't beat you up too bad. Hell son, consider this a wrestling lesson. Me the master, teaching you the student. Come on Davey!!”

On the big screen a image popped up. There was a frantic scene in one of the hallways as people were surrounding. You can hear someone say move move. After a few seconds everyone finally saw what had happened.

Davey LaRue was lying on the concrete floor completely knocked out….

Melissa commented on what had happened. “Wait that's Larue!! Was he attacked backstage? A few seconds later a confused C.G Gaines replied “Davey is completely out here. He is unconscious!

Back inside the ring Envy is looked on at the screen. He started questioning the referee then started walking around the ring obviously concerned. He interacted with a couple of the fans.  He then raised the microphone back to his mouth.

“What the hell happened? Come on Davey get up!! These people came here to watch me wrestle!! Don't deprive these folks on the obvious highlight of their week, hell possibly their entire lives!!”

The crowd erupted in boos as everyone continued observing the situation that happened.

Al Envy started talking again. “Fine Davey. Stay down. Keep acting like your hurt.” Envy laughed a little but then composed himself. “I guess you can join your buddy Brock in the hospital. Maybe ya'll can share a room together!” Envy laughed and turned to the referee. “Start the count monkey!!”

The referee had no choice but to begin the count. He counted to 10 and the bell was rang.

Bryan Williams announced the winner. “Here is your winner by forfeit…..AALL EENNVVYY!!

Envy raised his arms in the air as the crowd booed. He dropped to his back and began to walk his way out of the arena. On the screen Davey was loaded into an ambulance.

Michelle Van Der Aart commented “ Why do I have a feeling Al Envy had something to do with this? C.G responded “We can't jump to conclusions. I just hope we can update you all on the condition of Davey LaRue either tonight here at Pride or this coming Slam telecast.”

Envy walked up the ram and before he disappeared backstage looked into the camera with a guilty smirk.

 

Injruy Update

 

“Speaking of updates, let’s cut to the back where Adira Hoyt has one on the two men who literally destroyed each other in the Blitzkreig Championship match, Brock Newbludd and Ravage.” Vanderart said before the camera cut to the back to reveal Adria Hoyt standing in front of a closed door with a sign that read ‘Medical’ etched on it.

With a somber look on her face, the usually carefree Hoyt nodded to the camera before raising up the microphone she was holding.

“Thanks guys, I’m standing next to the medical room right now where Davey LaRue just got carried into to be looked at by the EMT’s…” Adria was then cutoff by the sound of LaRue screaming out an anger filled string of profanities that were muffled by the door. “And as you can hear, Davey is not in the best of spirits after getting attacked earlier tonight.”

Another outburst was heard, but this one sounded more like cries of pain, rather than anger.

“I also was able to speak with head NBW EMT, Randall Quest about the conditions of Brock Newbludd and the man he successfully defended his Blitzkrieg title against earlier tonight, Ravage. From what he told me guys, is that as soon both men were brought into the medical room via stretchers they both had become conscious…”

Adria was once again cut off as a howling sound was heard behind the closed door.

“Get dat needle away from me cher!” Ol’ Davey don’t need dat! OWWW!” LaRue exclaimed before quieting down again and Adria continued on.

“Sorry guys, sounds like Davey’s having a heck of a time getting patched up in there. Like I was saying, as soon as Newbludd and Ravage made into the medical area to be checked on, they both regained consciousness and immediately starting brawling again for a brief moment before being pulled apart by NBW security and medical staff. With the extent of their injuries being so severe, combined with the fear of them hurting each other even more, both men were taken on separate ambulances to separate hospitals to be checked on even further. Needless to say guys, there will be some big question marks regarding the health of both Newbludd and Ravage going into 2017.”

Finished with her report, Adria nodded to the camera and it slowly faded out.

 

Blitz Contenders Match

 

Returning ringside Brent Williams strolled up the ring steps and ducked on inside before raising his microphone to his mouth.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, this next tag team match is scheduled for one fall. By order of the personal assistant to the general manager, Richie Keal, the winner will be the new number one contender for the Blitzkrieg Championship.” He took a breath and continued, “however, normal tag team rules apply. Blitzkrieg rules are NOT in effect.” He shrugged and turned his attention towards the rampway.

“So this is a number one contenders match for the Blitzkrieg championship. A tag team match, with three teams. And they can’t even use the rules of the division?” Gains questioned.

“That is what it sounds like.”

‘Psycho’ by Psyko Dalek.

The curtains were shoved open with force, which wasn’t difficult being curtains and all. Out stepped the loud mouth ‘BIG’ Rick, with his cohort Little Ricky. The fans gave them a heaping helping of boos as the two stomped their way to the ring.

“Once again Big Rick has the chance to challenge for the Blitz title, if he can win this match tonight!” Vanderart commented.

“Introducing first, at a combined weight of five hundred and twelve pounds, they are the team of Big Rick Strongbern and Little Ricky Strongbern… THE STRONGBERNS!”

Big Rick scoffed and stomped up the steps before taking his corner while Little Ricky took the opposite side of the corner. Apparently they weren’t starting the match out.

“And he’s choosing to watch the other four demolish each other. Smart thinking!” Added in Gains.

‘Hey Kids’ by JET.

Once more the curtains opened up as the energetic duo exploded out onto the ramp to the cheers of the fans of the ScottTrade center. The two bumped their fists and immediately sprinted down the ramp, sliding inside under the bottom ropes.

“And now the two brats.”

“Spark and Noid have been here for years, Craig. They deserve this shot as much as the others.”

“And their opponents, first at a combined weight of three hundred and eighty seven pounds, they are the Sonic and Knuckles of pro wrestling, Tony Spark and Christopher Noid… FOR THE WIN!

FTW took to the opposite end of the ring and waited out their last team while Big Rick yelled at them.

TAYLOR SMITH
PETER PHAM
BENNY REYES
TALK PRETTY TO ME!



“Talk Dirty To Me (HMMS Edit)” by Jason Derulo feat. 2 Chainz.



And out walked the trio of perfect good looks. At least usually. However Benny was dragging his IV along with him, being helped down the ramp and to the ring, then around the ring.

“If Benny is so sick why is he even out here?”

“Can’t you see the emotion in that mans eyes? He’s here to support his besties. He could be like every other ailing patient and lay back in his bed but Benny is fighting the struggle for us all!”

“For over a month and half…”

“And their opponents, accompanied to the ring by ‘The Beaut’ Benny Reyes, at a combined weight of four hundred and twenty four pounds, they are ‘Tantalyzing’ Taylor Smith and ‘Photogenic’ Peter Pham… HANDSOME MAN MODELLING SCHOOL!

“It’s a serious illness, Melissa.”

“And what is that?”

HMMS to the furthest corner, nearest Gains and Vanderart. Benny raised a fist and cheered them on before collapsing against the barricade.

“Goodluck TAYTAY!!!” Gains shouted, to which Smith gave a acknowledging nod. “See that Mel? We’re tight buds.”

“Just remember Craig. Whomever wins this match will find themselves across the ring, in who knows what kind of match, with the reigning Brock Newbludd. You saw what happened to Ravage earlier. You saw their match at Legacy. Are you sure Tay… tay… is up for that?”

“I… well…” he looked over at Reyes, who leaned forward from his seat on the floor against the barricade. He spotted Gains, forced a smile and a thumbs up. “They can handle it!”

Ding ding ding.

With that the bell was run and Spark and Noid went through a game of janken, leading to Noid coming out on top and starting out with Peter Pham. The two immediately tied up in the center of the ring, leading to a shoving match as the two tried to gain the upperhand over the other, managing to knock into the neutral corner. Noid took advantage and swung at Peter, who ducked and landed his own right hand, which immediately he followed with a boot to the shin, to bring him down on a knee which was followed with a knee trembler to Noid’s forehead.

Pham followed up with several stomps to the chest as he was laid out in the corner. Taking a few steps back he reeled forward with a rushing boot to the face, but Noid slunk aside to avoid it, reaching up and pulling Pham forward into the corner, slamming head first on the buckle. Noid slid the remaining distance under Peter’s legs and bound to his feet. Peter spun around and struck Noid but missed and instead felt a hard jab which was followed by a headbutt to the sternum.

“THIS IS BORING!” Big Rick shouted from the opposite corner, “GET IN THERE AND SHOW THEM HOW ITS DONE.” He knocked his cohort on the shoulder and pointed at the corner.

“We’re not legal.”

“YOU GOT FIVE. GO!”

Reluctantly Little Ricky stepped over the ropes and walked across the ring, immediately being stopped by Jerry Peterson who warned him. This led to Pham nudging forward with two thumbs to the eyes of Noid. Tony yelled across the ring at Peterson, who turned around just to catch as Pham connected with a reverse russian leg sweep, straight into the top rope.

Noid stumbled back from the ropes while Little Ricky went back to his corner. Pham struck with a diving forearm that blasted Noid back into the ropes, Pham took the arm and wringed it behind, walking them over to his corner where he tagged in Smith. The two launched Noid into the ropes and caught him with a double team flapjack.

Smith went for the cover.

ONE!

But not even a one count could be reached with Noid kicking out. Smith immediately stomped on the chest of Noid and scraped his boot across the face. He then reached down and pulled Noid back to his feet. Dragging him towards the corner he tagged in Peter Pham once more. The two took turns stomping and punching him in the corner before Taylor had to exit the ring.  Pham shoved Noid back into the corner and executed a well placed roundhouse kick. He wasn’t done and reached forward, dropping back and monkey flipped Pham out of the corner, going splat face first near the center of the ring.

Pham rushed down for the cover.

ONE!

TWO!


No! Saved by Spark pulling Pham off of his partner, and the two fought while Little Ricky once more stepped over the ropes and rushed forward. Double Clothesline took both men down and out. Noid pulled himself across the mat a few inches to reach up to the second rope and pull himself back up. His eyes still adjusting but he was up to his feet, looking for the tag and unfortunately not seeing the relief. Instead Little Ricky charged at him with a spear, which Noid leaped over in the last instance, and quickly put on the breaks as he wound up in the corner of HMMS.

Pham was legal so Smith’s tagging of Noid’s shoulder wasn’t being accepted by Peterson.

“HA HA HA HA. LEARN THE RULES BOY!” Big Rick laughed as Taylor was told off.

Noid met Pham in the center again while Tony had rolled under the ropes and made his way around the ring back to his corner. Pham went low, sweeping the legs of Noid who simply jumped to avoid it, and collided with a forearm that knocked Pham back. Noid finally got a head of steam, rushing the ropes behind him -SMACK!

Call it a tag. Or call it the chest of Noid caving in courtesy of the heavy chop of Little Ricky blasting his chest. Peterson called it a tag and Ricky pulled him through the ropes then stepped over the ropes and immediately met Pham in the center. He blocked a roundhouse kick, swatting his leg away on the second, and STO’d him to the mat.

“THAT’S HOW YOU DO IT! TAKE NOTES BOY” Big Rick called out from his corner. “DESTROY HIM!”

Ricky reached down and deadlifted Pham from the mat with a german suplex that he released over head and led to Peter bouncing off the mat.

“DO IT AGAIN!”

Once more Ricky reached down and wrapped his arms around the waist hauling him off the mat with a second german release. Pham was dazed and looked to his safety. “Hey don’t tag me in against him! Tag the blue uggo.” Smith ordered from his post, causing Pham to spin around and look at the FTW corner. Spark shrugged and held his hand out the immediately planted it across his forehead as Pham went crashing face first into the mat courtesy of a double axe handle from the former giant Tremoid.

No matter how you looked at it, five men were sized up to the massive walking brickhouse. And neither came close.

The impact from the double fist was heavy and Pham was nearly out. Little Ricky reached down a third time, grabbing the waist and heaving Peter upwards and over… this time however Pham didn’t crash and burn, landing instead on the heels of his feet, stumbling back into the ropes. Making a split decision he dived at Spark for the tag to the confusion of the fans.

But not Smith who grinned as Spark stepped into the ring and sized up the monster. “ENJOY YOUR BOSS ENCOUNTER KID!” Big Rick roared from his corner.

Spark kicked the big man at the side, followed with a second, but Little Ricky wasn’t budging. He stepped back and jumped forward with a forearm to the face. When that wasn’t working he leaped in the air with a dropkick. It worked, but only enough for Little Ricky to step back and swing forward with his left arm, clobbering Spark aside into the ropes. He caught Spark as he came off the ropes, right into a bear hug.

He squeezed the life out of him, draining him of his energy like a 90s kid’s SqueezeIt, which coincidentally enough Tony was fond of. Peterson checked on him asking him if he was going to give up, but Spark shook his head, to which Ricky squeezed harder.

“MAKE HIS EYES POP OUT!”

Which may have happened if not for Spark raising both arms out and slamming his palms down into Little Ricky’s ears with the bell clap. He dropped Tony who stumbled into the ropes, and as Ricky shook the ringing out of his ears he ate a plate of double boot to the face and went down on his back for the first time in the match.

Spark rolled to his feet and tagged in his partner. The two walked over to Ricky who was on his hands and knees at that point trying to get his equilibrium back. They took advantage, hooking his head in their arms and driving him down to the mat with a double DDT. Noid and Spark then dropped simultaneous elbows to the spine of Little Ricky before Spark had to exit the ring.

Noid rolled him over on his back and covered him.

ONE!

TWO!


No! Little Ricky shoved Noid up and off of him, and landing aside of him. He was back to his feet before Chris could, and that didn’t bode well for the red-headed kid as a massive boot collided in his face. Ricky pulled Noid back up to his feet, and slung him around before whipping him across the ring into the ropes. He gave charge and slammed all of his bodyweight into the rebounding Noid.

“THERE. NOW PIN HIM!”

Ricky stepped down on the chest of Noid but his ring awareness was a bit off as Taylor Smith slapped his hand on his back. Peterson called it and the giant was forced back to his corner and angry boss. Smith smirked and climbed through the ropes, walking over to Noid. Dusting his face with the heel of his boot, he leaned down to pick up the pieces - SMALL PACKAGE!

ONE!

TWO!


No! Nearly had him did Noid. Smith was irate and still laying on the ground he kicked as the side of Noid before getting back to his feet. He then stomped on the head of Noid and pulled him up to his feet as well. Noid tried to kick him but Smith swept the leg to unbalance him then delivered a snap suplex back to the mat. Still holding on he spun him around and delivered a second. Going for the third, he switched around and hauled Noid up in the air for a brainbuster before dropping Noid.

Smith wasn’t yet finished, and grabbed the left leg of Noid, pulling him into his corner where Pham kept his arms raised as the official warned him. Smith slid under the ropes and pulled Noid into the post leg first. He then yanked him forward, and swung his leg into the post. This was followed with a second.

“SUCH A WIMP!”

Smith then swung the legs both around so that Noid was hanging over the edge. He stepped back a few steps, leaning down to check on Reyes like a good friend before he rushed forward with a double knee strike that clocked Noid good. Smith then rolled back in the ring and pulled Noid in away from the ropes.

ONE!

TWO!

THRE-
NO!

Spark with the save courtesy of a running stomp to the back. Tony pulled Smith off of Noid and met him with a swift kick to the chest, knocking him away from Noid giving him distance to get up.

Smith stumbled into the ropes and Spark charged him, nailing him a second time with a hard kick to the chest. Smith swung at Spark, who ducked low and out of the ring before he was disqualified, and at the same point left Smith open for Noid charging across the ring with a missile dropkick that actually knocked Taylor over the ropes to the outside.

Noid shook the cobwebs clean and sprinted across the ring, tagging in Tony Spark before continuing across the ring and dove over with the tope con hilo right into Smith. Smith took it full on and as the legal man Peterson started to count him out. It would take several seconds before he crawled over to the ring and rolled back in finally at the count of eight.

Spark walked over and went on the attack, only to get pulled away from Smith, and flung across the ring by Little Ricky with a release german.

“DRAG HIM HERE!”

Ricky grabbed Smith by the foot, ignoring Peterson’s orders, and dragged Smith across the ring to the Strongberns corner and dropped him there as he stepped through. Big Rick tagged himself in, and waited for Spark to get back to his feet.

STRONG ARM LARIAT!

Tony Spark was a goner. Big Rick went with the cover.

“THAT’S HOW YOU DO IT!”

ONE!

TWO!

THR---
NOPE! Christopher with the save. Peter popped himself over the ropes as well and now joined Noid. The two looked at one another then Big Rick and struck. Rick went down and the two fired off at one another. Rick rolled out of the ring and laughed at Benny’s predicament, going for a kick at his IV stand.

With Peterson’s attention on getting Noid and Pham out of the ring to regain order, he was oblivious to Benny Reyes ripping the tube off his arm, which was merely affixed by a tape of sorts, and sprayed the contents out in the face of Big Rick.

Rick stumbled, clawing at his eyes, and rolled back into the ring. He had no idea that Spark was waiting and walked back first into his chest, and spun around - THE LAST GUY!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!


The fans cheered and booed quickly thereafter as Peterson had never made the third thanks to Little Ricky pulling him out of the ring by the foot. Spark rushed the ropes and dove through with a forearm that blasted Little Ricky into the barricades. He then helped Peterson up to his feet, and then under the ropes into the ring.

WHAM!

From out of the crowd a tall hoodie wearing man crushed Spark with a running elbow to the back of the head. Spark collapsed to the ground as the man raised his hoodie and smiled. It was the former Eastern Warlord, the Bruiser from Norway, Rik Bonebreaker. With Peterson only starting to get to his hands and knees in the ring, Bonebreaker lived up to his name and grabbed Spark’s left arm, wrenching it back then dropping his weight backward until you could hear the SNAP as Tony yelled out in pain.

Rik quickly bounded back over the barricades and through the crowd as Noid came rushing around the corner. With both legal men currently out on opposite sides of the ring, down and out  and Peterson now back to his feet, it wasn’t clear what was next. Big Rick pulled himself up by the ropes, looking to win by count out at this point.

Little Ricky rushed around the ring and pulled Smith off the apron, immediately tossing him into the barricade. He then set his sights on Benny who now free of the IV stand, was making his way up the ramp at a quick pace. Ricky gave charge, and Noid took the moment to raise up his shirt, tossing it to a lucky female fan in the front row, before he started tapping on his NES controller belt. UP UP DOWN DOWN LEFT RIGHT LEFT RIGHT B A - ULTIMATE CHEAT CODE!

Noid hulked up, rushing across the ring to catch Big Rick with a running lariat, then a second as he got back to his feet. Chris finished up with the diving STO driving Big Rick into the mat.

ONE!

TWO!

THR--
NO! Peter Pham with the save. Pham pulled Noid off and grabbing him in the headlock he headed towards the corner, running up and delivering the sliced bread #2 - THE SNAPSHOT!

All the while Peterson was out of the ring checking on Spark as were EMTs that had arrived. Jerry shook his head and raised up his arms in the dreaded X. Then called over Brent and had a discussion.

“As a result of the officials decision, this match is being stopped. Therefore as a result it will be ruled a no contest.”

The fans booed, and Little Ricky stormed back down the ramp. Shoving the EMTs carrying a stretcher cart down with them, causing it to be knocked over and have to pick it back up. Ricky slid into the ring and got Pham - LITTLEST GIANT CHOKESLAM!

Ricky then recovered Rick from the ring, rolling him out and carrying him back up the side of the ramp.

Meanwhile Noid had joined the crew with Spark and the camera cut away to the announcers.

“Is he going to be okay?”

“I heard a snap. Not like my knee does every morning. I mean like that slimjim I was snacking on hours ago.” Gains added, “but how about that recovery!”

“Recovery? He’s out! Peterson’s called this match off and you know somewhere in the back Keal’s wiping the sweat from his brow that this is over.”

“Benny Reyes of course! Miraculous recovery just in time to help his pals out.”

“Oh come on! He was faking it! He nearly costed the Strongberns the match.”

“Until Rik Bonebreaker returned. Do you think that was Big Rick’s plan?”

“Shouldn’t you be in the know, Craig? Aren’t you in close with them?”

“Strongberns? Hah!” He smiled and shook his head proudly. “They are their own men. However TayTay let me in on their plans-”

“Oh he did, did he?”

“Well,” Gains paused, “he would have if we had talked about it.”

As the two continued to speak the camera returned ringside again where Spark was being helped on a stretcher and rolled up the ramp with Noid close by. HMMS meanwhile were clearing the ring.

The EpiCenter gave a close-in shot of Spark’s face before going to the replay and showing as his arm was broken in two before fading on out.

 

 

 

Keystone Championship

 

Ali Amore had threatened to pack it all in after a string of brave defeats.  'Bounty Hunter' Benjamin Hunter coaxed him into staying, Jones believing he could add the proud name of the ex-World champion to his wrestling resume.  Back-to-back defeated denied the KO King and catapulted the Colombian back to the lofty heights of the nbW pecking order and gave him another prestigious prize, the Keystone title, to remember when he really was long retired.

Right now, that seemed like a distant though.  'The First' Freddie Rich was keen to claim what he hoped and believed would be the first, pun intended, of many championships here tonight.  He hadn't wrestled since Legacy, so what type of shape would he be in to face the South American superstar?

Freddie had got what he wanted:  After contemplating what path to take after following in Benjamin's footsteps and losing championship clashes on consecutive pay-per-views, the same no less (Scorched and Legacy) Freddie again took a shortcut to glory.  Will it be the third time lucky tonight?  And how will he rebuild if it doesn't turn out to be fate?

The Rich Family had already been triumphant.  Could he truly make it a night to remember, like Slam 85?

Time to find out.

With no entrance music, Freddie interrupted the chatter and the boos provided a stand-in soundtrack.  To be fair, 'The First' took it in his stride.

"This match is for the Keystone championship.  On his way to the ring...the challenger.  Representing The Rich Family, the eldest child of the second generation...weighing two hundred and thirty-seven pounds...'THE FIRST' FRRRRRRRREEDDIE RRRRICCCCH!"

By the point Brent rolled his Rs, Freddie had a spring, stepping through the middle ropes and standing with outstretched arms, not really seeking praise, but posing and announcing his arrival on the big stage.  He'd really do that if he could unseat his rival.

'That's Amore.'

ALI!
ALI!
ALI!

Backed by Dean Martin's soothing voice and a supportive crowd, the popular performer didn't look like he was under pressure at all, smiling and slapping the hands of anyone who wanted to touch him on either side of the entranceway.  He completed the quick journey to the squared circle, scampering up the stairs himself and only differing from Freddie by performing a customary somersault into the squared circle.

Amore took one look at Freddie and posed for the spectators after scaling the second rope.  Freddie blasted him with a shot from behind and then slammed the South American star halfway across the ring.

Ding, ding, ding.

Acting instinctively, Amore retreated to the diagonally opposite corner, the top left-hand side of the ring, but Freddie steamed in.  Notwithstanding, Ali avoided Rich's Reverse Elbow and turned the tables with a sensational Roundhouse Kick to the mush.

CHOP!
CHOP!

The Colombian then whipped Rich into the opposite buckle where the bout had originally got (kick)started.

Gorgeous Handspring Elbow!

Freddie fell to the floor, though still had his wits about him and rolled out of the ring.  You could tell he was in a fight.

Don't look up...

Plancha by the champion!

In his mind, Freddie must've been thinking that he'd dealt the Colombian a psychological blow when he assisted Donny in pinning Ali in the 6-man tag on our last Slam.  Right now, the reigning champ was making a mockery of that and adjusting the challenger's attitude.  It was about the here and now.  Amore did not resemble a guy who'd been affected by that upset a fortnight or so ago.

Amore had returned to the ring, resisting the referee's friendly word.  He was too pumped up for this.

Funnily enough, Freddie was remonstrating with the ref, telling him to do his job properly.  Rich scaled the stairs, still barking, and pointed the moment Ali encroached, urging the authority figure to restrain the eager titleholder.  Amore held his hands up apologetically and unthreateningly.  Rich could return seamlessly.

Once Freddie felt ready, he indulged Amore with a traditional Tie-Up which gave Freddie the lead for the first time in this quest for Keystone glory, doing so in the form of a Hammerlock.  He hadn't forgotten Ali's damaged wing.  Through pain, the Colombian showed courage by reversing it, though Rich re-countered it until they ended up in the ropes at the north end of the ring.  As the referee tried to physically break them up, 'The First' threw a sly right to Ali's jaw and copped a fair warning from the ref as a result. 

Rich said sorry.  Once the official's back was turned, he grinned, implying he hadn't meant any ounce of the apology.  Instead, the second the referee allowed Freddie to attack again, he did by taking Amore's head and ramming it into the turnbuckle twice and then taking the titleholder down with a nice Hiptoss.

Determined not to stay down, Ali got up a tad too quickly and paid for it with a Hammerlock Slam.  Freddie then flipped Amore on his front and placed him in a regular Hammerlock, sticking it to the South American with more pressure.  Unlike his stable mates at the previous Slam, Freddie hadn't forgotten about Ali's injury at all.  It had bothered the defending champion for three straight pay-per-views.  The end had to be in sight at some point.  But, would it be bye-bye to the pain or the belt?

A couple of knees to the point of the back kept the Hammerlock intact.  Eventually, Amore was able to stand, having to fight the elementary yet effective hold, clearly coveting an Elbow to eradicate his present predicament.  Rich ducked the first, feigned attempt, but Ali caught up flush with the second strike, the real one with power behind it and sealed the deal with another to the jaw.

Rich was rocked.  However, he still had enough about him to try and thwart Ali's sprint with a Backbody Drop.  Amore used Rich's head against him, like a gymnastics horse in the gym, and went up and over.  He rebounded with a short dash from the southern set of ropes and a fabulous Flying Forearm!

Like Ali seconds ago, Freddie wanted to get back into the swing of things prematurely and swallowed a Spinning Heel Kick for his impatience.  Lesson learned: he slid out of the squared circle and smacked the apron with his right palm, evidently frustrated.

The champion capitalised, tagging the bear with the sore head with a Baseball Slide...No, Freddie saw that one coming and took a shuffle back.  A right was heading Ali's way, except the popular performer blocked it and fired once, twice, thrice in response.  It was time for Amore to step back, set to bust out a running move...

Only for his momentum to be used against him with a Snap Powerslam on the steel steps, no less!

To add insult to potential injury, Rich wiped his feet on Amore.  He didn't care about the official's complaints, walking up the stairs and leaving Amore to rot, not to mention the referee to actually do his job.

As the count approached 7, the challenger, mindful he couldn't secure his maiden title on the basis of a count-out, took no chances and stepped through the second rope.  Freddie booted his rival square in the face and tossed the main man in the Keystone ranks back into the ring.

Ali was being tortured as Rich unearthed another Hammerlock, but it was the prelude to a DDT with the submission still cinched in.

1...

2....


Ali got the shoulder up; Rich lifted him up and gave the high-flying Keystone kingpin a Shoulderbreaker and tried his luck again, recording the same result.

Following up with a Fist Drop, Freddie again couldn't venture beyond two and was agitated with the referee, advising him to count more consistently. 

Anyway, Freddie set Amore up for another Shoulderbreaker.  This time, the Superstar of Bogota didn't play ball and slipped out of the back door in the nick of time.  When Freddie turned round, he was belted with three fantastic rights to the side of the head, threatening to scramble his brains for breakfast.

Rich still had the presence of mind to reverse a whip; what he didn't have on point was his timing.  Rich missed a Reverse Elbow and a Clothesline as Ali darted back towards him...

Fair play to Freddie.  At the third time of asking, he caught the Colombian's Crossbody Block attempt and converted it into a Davey Boy-like Running Powerslam!

One...

Two...


Try again.

Two title tilts; Freddie was close to also ending his title virginity with that powerful manoeuvre.

Rich shook his head at the official.  Rather than get mad, he measured Amore by holding his hand out and stamping on it before also booting him on the point of the shoulder.

Amore tried to get the blood pumping.  He wouldn't be afforded much time as Freddie applied an Arm Wringer and wrenched on it twice.  Ali, who fought gallantly, reached the ropes and forced a break.
Another warning came Freddie's way by disrespecting another break, sneaking a left-handed blow to Amore's arm.  Rich didn't hang around, connecting with Ali so he backed up into the south-west corner of the ring.  Sending the South American to the opposite corner...

FIRST CLASS STAMP!  (Facewash.)

Freddie sat Amore up so AA was up on the second rope.  A chop kept the Colombian in position. When Freddie joined Ali, he found resistance in the form of two Headbutts and that caused separation.  Again, an enthusiastic contender was nabbed coming in with a kick and a marvellous Moonsault Press.

One...

Two...


Fortunately for Freddie, Ali had aggravated his shoulder and couldn't regain his vertical base rapidly enough.  'The First' squashed Amore like a worm with a hellacious Lariat...

One...

Two...


Two and a half.

Back to the Arm Wringer, fully equipped with repeated punches until Amore fell to the floor.  Freddie brought him back to his feet momentarily and posed, which generated some boos.

Double Underhook Backbreaker!

In comparison, that extracted some begrudging respect.  Rich was cockily walking the walk as he exited left and let his guard down...

Slingshot Elbow Drop...

Missed.

Freddie got up again and tried to blot out his mistake with a regular Elbow Drop....

Which was also inaccurate.

Ali's pace was back and he was somewhat spiteful, standing on Freddie's hand and punching the pretender in the arm.  Needless to say, Rich did not like the shot being on the other foot!

Just as the Colombian was about to continue, Freddie played a Donald Trump card, a leverage move if you will, grabbing the champ by the tights and depositing Ali through the middle ropes.  That had to be his final warning, judging by the telling-off he received.

Perhaps ending this soon was the answer.  That brainwave entered Freddie's mind and there was a purpose as he vacated the battleground to roll Amore back in.

Ali sprang into life...

FIRST CLASS DROPKICK to counter the Colombian!

The challenger scurried over and hooked a leg...

UNO...

DOS...

TR..
.NO!

That was it.  Freddie was PISSED.  It was time for 'The First' to claim his birthright - a championship, his third title tilt in as many pay-per-views and complete the journey of a short lifetime...

He had Ali in place for his patented Cradle Piledriver...

Rags to...Backbody Drop!

It should've been Rags to Riches and a ticket to the title.  Instead, a basic counter threw that all up in the air.  Speaking of which, Ali burst into life...

Standing Moonsault!

1...

2...


Almost stole it!

Ali kept his cool and splattered Freddie with a sublime Standing Phoenix Splash!!!

One...

Two...


Give Rich credit for kicking out!

Like a rabid dog with a bit between its teeth, it was only fitting that Ali pasted Freddie with a beautiful...

Bulldog!

Amore hinted he was ready for take-off.  He stepped out and climbed to the summit; Ali had hit Rich with a string of sensational moves and this would surely be the coup de grace...

Frogsplash...Freddie got his feet up!!

A count commenced.  It got to six.  Both men stirred roughly at the same time.  Freddie was up first and that was crucial...

SICK KICK!!!

By fuck, was it.  Freddie sank to his knees in a mixed state of tiredness setting in a sprinkling of joy; he may've done it.

Could Freddie's Nightmare realise Rich's dream?

One...

Two...


So close!!!

Rich's reaction was like the one just moments ago.  He's not even pissed at the official at this point.  He punches the canvas and stands up, a snap in his step and killer instinct instilled in his arsenal.

Carefully, he prepared Rags to Riches.  Unlike other times, he waited way too long and an Inside Cradle threw a spanner in the works...

1....

2....


Freddie didn't fall for it, but he wasn't within a whisker of winning it like he though.  Ali was very much alive in this outing and it hung in the balance.  One move might be all it takes to tip the balance for either guy.

Enraged, Freddie stormed towards the South American and gave it everything he had with a second SICK Kick...

Ducked!

Rich was brought down to size by a beautifully-time Dropkick to the calf.  Ali then ran the ropes on the right-hand side...

Shining Wizard!

Would it be enough by the magician in the ring, who had a habit of pulling these wins out of the hat?

One...

Two...


Again, Freddie showed tremendous tenacity to reject Amore's offer.  Now, Ali was the one demonstrating a great sense of urgency. 

He started by picking the pretender to his throne up and executing a Gutbuster that made the eldest member of the Rich clan cough upon impact.

A Standing Ghetto Stomp softened him up further.  Curiously, the Colombian didn't cover his challenger.  No, he picked him up, cautiously and carefully, though there was a hint of recklessness in the Scoop Slam that set the stage.

Ali nodded.  THIS time, he was going to nail Freddie with the Frogsplash.  As always, audience members in rows and rows rose whenever they saw the former World and reigning Keystone champion perched at the peak of the nbW mountain, ready to execute another Frogsplash - a thing of true beauty.  He let out a sigh and readied himself on the risk v reward mission, one that may retain his coveted title or hand 'The First' yet another material object on a silver platter.

Which one would it be?

THAT'S AMORE!!!

Landed!

Would it indeed be Ali's Keystone crown to keep?

Ironically, the official, accused of slow counts by Freddie, adopted a slow count.

UNO...

DOS...

TRES!!!


The unmasked magician had done it again!  Ali raised his arms in the air and headed back to the second rope, safe in the knowledge he wouldn't be brought down with a bang by Freddie, who'd done just that at the start of this championship clash.

Rich would have to go back to the drawing board.  There'd be no title match at the next pay-per-view, 25 to Life.  His three strikes were gone.

Meanwhile, Ali Amore, who basked in the adulation of another excited audience, would have to meet either a hall-of-fame inductee, Max Hopper, and what a magnificent match that will prove to be. Or one of NBW's most recent hire's, 'The Marvel' Matt Meyhu.

Ask the fans; they don't want to believe.

They know.

The truth is in the ring.

The Keystone Champion, just like the fans, would find out later tonight with the conclusion of the Finals.

 

SPEAKING OF...

 

The scene faded in backstage to Trent McKnight standing before the NBW set.

"What a match! Amore once again proves that he is the Keystone champion for a reason!" Trent smiled as he greeted the viewers. "However I was just informed by Richie Keal, as per the General Manager Jack Harmen, the finals of the Keystone Top Contenders Tournament is being rescheduled."

He waited as the fans booed in the background.

"It's unfortunate, I know. However according to Keal the scheduling for tonight was not on par, and these steps were needed."

He waited for the boos to die down and continued.

"The Finals are now going to happen at the End of the Year Holiday Special in two weeks. And it will now have a thirty minute timelimit to ensure it is given the proper time." He shrugged with a smile, "you know as they say the card is subject to change. It happens. Best of luck to both Matt Meyhu and Max Hopper at the Special!"

The camera faded on out.

 

ERUPTIoN

 

“Well, ladies and gentlemen,” Melissa Vanderart started, “we’ve got a SPECIAL treat for you coming up next! We’ve got the return of a former nbW Blitzkrieg Champion that is fresh off a two-year stint competing for Kyoto PRO!”

“I’m not looking forward to this do-gooder coming right back and dancing like a moron!” C.G. Gains whined.

“If you REALLY believe he’s coming back to do just that? Then you haven’t seen him at all! And he’ll be making a return here tonight! Let’s cut to the ring where we’ve got Adria Hoyt here now!”

And to the ring we go with the young and beautiful Adria Hoyt wearing a green dress that don’t quit.

“Hi, ladies and gentlemen! Tonight, we’ve got an exciting return to No Brand Wrestling for you tonight! He is a former Blitzkrieg Champion and after he made the jump to Kyoto PRO for two years, he became one of their top stars! With a long reign as a Kyoto PRO Openweight Champion lasting the majority of 2016 lasting six successful defenses, this man is now ready to make his return tonight to American soil. Please welcome…”

The crowd then turned their attention the EpiCenter.

The crowd now watched with anticipation at what was happening at ringside.  The lights faded to black until a series of yellow and green spotlights shined at the entrance.  The crowd continued to buzz for what was happening next until a series of men in yellow dress robes made their way out, pounding on tribal drums.  The crowd was excited for the entrance and a silhouette appeared on the top of the ramp. 

A BIG silhouette to be precise. Two smaller men on either side of him continued to dance in tune with a tribal beat. The lights then returned after a scream.

“EO NA TOA! EO NA TOA E!”

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

A HUGE explosion of red pyro went off behind him and the opening 15-second mark of “King Kong” by Gorilla Zoe played. 

“RRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

“Sweet Daddy K!” Melissa Vandeart yelled. “The former Blitzkrieg Champion that was trained by LoC’s Sonny Silver! He’s spent the last two years in Kyoto PRO as part of a talent exchange with nbW and now he’s back in town for good!”

The 278-pound Sweet Daddy K garnered a GREAT reaction from the crowd! The two smaller men accompanying him to the ring were his cousins Jules and Rafi Ke’ala and the little troublemakers were a bit more grown-up, too, as they had been wrestling for Kyoto PRO as well. Sweet Daddy K and the Ke’ala Cousins entered the ring and each shook hands with Adria Hoyt. The music finally cut out and the crowd gave the Ke’ala family a nice ovation.

“WELCOME BACK!
WELCOME BACK!
WELCOME BACK!
WELCOME BACK!
WELCOME BACK!”

Sweet Daddy K was dressed in black t-shirt, leather jacket and black track pants for the occasion while The Ke’ala cousins were wearing matching “SWEET DADDY K – THIS IS BATTLE!” t-shirts that were famous back in 2012 in nbW. Sweet Daddy K turned and nodded to her.

“Thanks for having us here, hoaloha,” Sweet Daddy K said. “Mahalo, nbW Faithful… thank you all for welcoming us back!”

The Polynesian Powerhouse waved to the fans and they cheered again as Adria Hoyt continued the interview.

“Seems the fans missed you, too!” Adria noted with the reaction. “You made waves in nbW when you were here back in 2013 and then you moved onto Kyoto PRO. What’s bringing you and your family back to No Brand Wrestling?”

Sweet Daddy K nodded.

“Well, as you know, two years ago, I decided to make the jump to Kyoto PRO. I wanted to challenge myself and so my family and I jumped into a new culture.”

“The girls were HOOOOOOOTTTTT!” Jules said with a laugh.

“And you almost got busted by that cop for…” Rafi said before Jules cut him off.

“Bruh! Live TV!” Jules yelled.

SDK laughed.

“In all seriousness, despite my brief year with No Brand Wrestling… I considered this place my home away from home. Its fans gave me a reaction when I made my debut that still chills me to my core. So I wondered… could I come back and be a success here again, eh? Could I come back here and do it again? I set my sights on the Blitzkrieg Championship and I got it. I set my sights on Kyoto PRO and I won their Openweight Championship. Now… I’m back here again… and I’m home. I am READY! And I am BACK! You are not just fans… you’re Ohana. Family!”

The crowd cheered again as SDK smiled.

“That brings me to my next point. Japan was very, VERY good to me and my family and good for my career. I learned things I never thought possible. I made myself better. I fought against some of the toughest and most hard-hitting stars in this sports and it made me a stronger person. That is why starting tonight, I start with a clean slate. I’m back with a brand new name that was bestowed on me by their people. The name Sweet Daddy K is no more… that… and I get tired of the constant comparisons to a lolo Jeff Dunham puppet… so… my Ohana…

He pointed to the EpiCenter as some of the crowd laughed at his dumb joke.

“I was bestowed with a name in part due to one of the nicknames I’ve been given over my career as The Active Volcano… I am now…”

The tron appeared with three Japanese kanji characters…

大火山

 
And then the letters shifted in red…

OHIYAMA


“I will continue to honor the traditions and the fighting spirit that I learned over on that side of the world! I am now Ohiyama! The large volcano! No Brand Wrestling is now my home and I will go through EVERYONE on this roster one person at a time to give you all the most exciting and hard-hitting matches possible! My ohana… EO NA TOA! EO NA TOA E!”

He gritted his teeth.

“THIS IS BATTLE! YOU MUST RESPOND!”

The crowd cheered the proclamation from the returning Sweet Dad- Sorry, Ohiyama. The Polynesian Powerhouse turned to his cousins.

“We’ve taken up enough time tonight,” the newly-minted Ohiyama said. “Good night and aloha, nbW! We’ll be watching!”

“King Kong” by Gorilla Zoe played again and the Ke’ala family took their bow. Ohiyama, Jules and Rafi all started to leave the ring.

“There you have it, fans!” Adria said. “Best of luck to Ohiyama in his return to No Brand Wrest…”

“Born in China (metal instrumental remix)” by The Immortals.

Ohiyama stopped and Jules and Rafi remained behind their large cousin. The crowd did not take kindly to this interruption and booed the crap out of two men coming out from the back. “The Artist of War” Xiang and his MASSIVE associate who had failed in his bid earlier to advance in the Keystone Title Tournament, The Great Wall. In Xiang’s hand was a microphone and he didn’t seem to take kindly to the reappearance of the former Sweet Daddy K. The two men who had already made enemies earlier tonight walked into the ring to face down Ohiyama and his cousins.

“Cut that music, NOW!” Xiang yelled. After the music faded, he continued.

Ohiyama had his microphone in hand still. “Xiang… you have a lot of nerve standing in front of me tonight… especially considering OUR history.”

“Yeah!” Jules yelled. “That hupo kidnapped me and Rafi!”

“Get out of here!” Rafi screamed.

Xiang had a chuckle.

“It’s true. That was a lifetime ago when I served incompetents like Torment and that crimson-clad idiot, Zed. But things change. You went to Japan because you couldn’t cut it here while I’ve been cutting a swath through No Brand Wrestling recently. I’ve beaten Zed. That coward, Mitchell Quinlan, tucked his tail between his legs and ran rather than faced me. And you saw what The Great Wall and I did to Spark and Ai Tso earlier.”

He smiled.

“And now you come back and try to appropriate Japanese culture and pass it off as your own in hopes of resurrecting your nbW career… let me tell you something in MY native tongue: Líkāi. Xiànzài líkāi huò nǐ sàngshī nǐ de zhíyè shēngyá.”

He said “Leave. Leave now or you will forfeit your career.”

“I am tired of being disrespected time and time again by this company and by this country so if this place will not give me the proper respect, I will take out the people that think they can just waltz in here and mistakenly think they are my peers… people like…”

“KULIKULI!”

Ohiyama heard enough! He blurted out the Hawaiian slang for someone to shut up. 

“No, Xiang, it isn’t going down like this,” Ohiyama said to The Artist of War. “I heard what you had to say earlier about this country and started acting like a little okole who didn’t get his way. And what you did to Ai Tso and Spark… my FRIENDS in Kyoto PRO. YOU’RE the one who needs to leave, Xiang. This WILL not end well for you don’t get out of my sight.”

The former Sweet Daddy K looked at Xiang while The Artist of War laughed.

“Your idle threats do not scare me, Ohiyama,” Xiang said. “And if you do not like what I have to sa…”

Xiang grabbed his microphone and tried to ram it right in the face of Ohiyama, but The Polynesian Powerhouse blocked the shot! He returned fire…

OOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

With a VICIOUS Headbutt that dropped Xiang out cold! The normally stoic Great Wall even had a look of shock on his face for what Ohiyama had just done!

Jules and Rafi both gasped and then laughed at what happened to Xiang, but their tunes changed when The Great Wall attacked Ohiyama! He went after him and buried two knees into his gut! Adria Hoyt left the ring after the skirmish and The Great Wall was trying to get the better of Ohiyama and then whipped him into the ropes, but The Polynesian Powerhouse hooked his arm on the ropes. He charged at Ohiyama…

WWWWWWWWWHHHHHHHOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAA!

Ohiyama PICKED UP The Great Wall over his shoulder and THREW the massive beast outside of the ring! The 6’5” and 278-pound Polynesian Powerhouse was dwarved a little by The Great Wall, but in one fell swoop he had overpowered him and thrown him out of the ring! The crowd was amazed by the show of strength from the newly-named Ohiyama!

The Great Wall had recovered and pulled the groggy Xiang out of the ring by his arm before pulling him out of the ring and retreating up the ramp.

“YOU SEE THAT, DUDE?!” Jules asked Rafi. “He got DROPPED!”

“COUSIN, THAT WAS SICK!” Rafi yelled.

Ohiyama was a man that was nice, but clearly was not going to be pushed around as The Xiang Dynasty had just found out! The Great Wall and Xiang licked their wounds and climbed up the ramp, but it was very, very clear that they would not forget this show of disrespect. Both Jules and Rafi walked over and raised an arm of Ohiyama and the crowd cheered the return of the former Sweet Daddy K to nbW!

 

Jake Tockwell vs E.Z. Blaze

 

The time was most certainly now for the newcomer “Big Talk” Jake Tockwell to either put up or shut up in what is to be his debut pay-per-view match at Pride. For three weeks running, the man who named himself Big Talk had been making enemies left and right all the way from EZ Blaze for interrupting his match and attacking him to an old rival in Warren Spade getting in his grill. Technically Jake was undefeated – if you could call a disqualification victory in a tag match a victory.

EZ Blaze was not one to take matters lying down and he was walking into the pay-per-view with two victories over Alyx Norwood under his belt. Is he going to make it three tonight and play spoiler to the Memphis brawler or is Jake Tockwell going to walk on out of Pride with a trip to the pay window? We were about to find out!

“The Angels Among Demons” played for the crowd next and like a bullet, EZ Blaze ran right through the double-doors and pumped his fists for the fans. The NBW fanbase cheered Blaze as the masked man pointed towards the ring and then charged like a crazy person for the ring. He slid underneath the bottom rope and he ran back and forth across the rope multiple times until he came to a stop and rolled forward, pointing to the ringside camera like he meant business. Blaze was showing some of that fire that made him so loved with the NBW audience and tonight he had a chance to lay it all on the line.

The Eagles’s hit single “Life In The Fast Lane” played and the arena soon became washed in a sea of gold! The theme played and out came Derecho’s co-conspirator in attacking both Warren Spade and Fenton Woods during their Pride contract signing two weeks ago. Decorated in black and gold boas, the six-foot five and two-hundred fifty-six pound loudmouth from Memphis basked in the all the attention he was receiving. 
 
“Next NBW World Champ coming through!” yelled Tockwell.
 
The man known as Big Talk hit the ring and threw off his boas before handing them to the official for the match, Tal Nedrick.
 
“Just like I told that Simon kid last week … If I catch a single feather out of place, I’m gonna knock your chiclets down your throat! Hold my boas, bitch!”
 
Tal stood there buried in black and gold boas which looked pretty hilarious for the fans in attendance. Tockwell raised his fists on the second turnbuckle to bask in the jeers of the crowd. He was making no friends (Aside from Derecho) in No Brand Wrestling quickly and now here he was about to face somebody else he already had many problems with. He went to turn and face with EZ Blaze.

DING

DING

DING


BIG BOOT … NOOOO!!!

Right away, Big Talk went for a home run swing but EZ Blaze saw it coming and was able to slide underneath his leg. Blaze was already on his feet and he took him to task with kicks to the thighs so that way he could stun him. EZ Blaze made with more strikes and more strikes to the legs to disorient Big Talk quickly.

“Ow! Damn it! Stand still so I can kick your … ow!!!”

EZ Blaze now peppered Big Talk with a big series of elbows and then switched up to attack his legs. Big Talk kicked EZ Blaze once and that was enough to bring the lightning fast high flyer to his knees. Two more blows from Big Talk caught his head and now EZ was on his knees at the feet of Jake Tockwell who was now gloating.

“I got your number you little flip-shit!”

EZ was sent flying to the ropes and Big Talk once more tried to land a big boot kick but he ducked the shot. Blaze also ducked under a wild elbow but then EZ Blaze used the propulsion from the ropes to collide with a running drop kick that dropped Big Talk on his back!

The high flyer Blaze was back on his feet already and ran right at Jake Tockwell with a standing moonsault! He stood up after that and finished off the combination of moves with a standing and jumping 450 splash! Two big moves could put Jake Tockwell right away and could be the end of things!

1 …

2 …


But Jake kicked out!

The Talk of the Town rolled away from the high flyer. EZ Blaze ran after him but Tockwell grabbed him by his tights and threw him through the ropes. Blaze stumbled through the ropes and he landed on the apron. Tockwell turned and delivered a knee through the ropes and then he set him up for what was probably going to be a very nasty suplex. He grinned at the crowd and a suplex was coming up next but when Jake tried to take him over, EZ Blaze used the momentum to roll him up!

1 …

2 …


And another kickout by Tockwell!

Tockwell was still all out of sorts thanks to the quick pace of EZ Blaze and now things were going from bad to worse. He kicked him in the head and then ran at Tockwell in the corner only for Tockwell to finally get his knee up and catch EZ Blaze in the face. When Tockwell charged at him …

BAM!!!

Pele kick from out of nowhere and he clipped Tockwell in the head! Tockwell was slumping over and that allowed EZ Blaze to try and take him down with a small package.

1 …

2 …


He kicked him out again!

The Memphis brawler was being taken to task multiple times by EZ Blaze and now required a new form of strategy if he was going to beat him. EZ Blaze leaped through the ropes quickly and made an attempt to attack him with another form of springboard attack.

He was on the top rope …

But Jake shoved him over and EZ Blaze hit the floor!!!

In just one fell swoop Big Talk had changed the entire complextion of the match! Jake rested over the ropes and he pointed to his head, telling the crowd that he just outsmarted the high-flyer while EZ Blaze was now in a heap on the floor trying to come around. The referee now began a count for Blaze to get back inside the ring or he would be takin ga loss.

1 …

2 …

3 …

4 …

EZ Blaze was having a tough go of things while Jake Tockwell was now resting comfortably in the corner now sitting and having a grand old time.

5 …

6 …

Jake watched as EZ Blaze tried to limp back to his feet and sldie in.

7 …

 8 …

Was Blaze going to fail?

9 …

No he was not!

Jake Tockwell was shocked that EZ Blaze could recover from such a nasty spill, but he made him pay for his resilience by putting more kicks right to the head and chest. Tockwell then ejected him from the ring by throwing him out to the floor so he could continue assaulting him.

THUD!!!

That was the sound of EZ Blaze’s body colliding violently with the steel steps after Tockwell had just thrown him as hard as he could! Blaze was upside down and laying sprawled against the steps after Tockwell’s attack and now Big Talk was enjoying more of his advantage.

“Oh, we ain’t done yet, flip-shit!”

Tockwell scooped him up from the ground and then powered him up before electing to drop him with a simple scoop slam on the floor! Blaze’s back might have been mangled from the extra violent attacks and Jake now looked to take advantage by throwing him back into the squared circle. Jake made a cover on Blaze.

1 …

2 …


Close, but no!

EZ Blaze kicked out and that didn’t sit well with Tockwell. Big Talk sat up and grabbed Blaze by his arm. H firmly whipped him into the close corner and followed but a defiant Blaze had his leg up. Jake caught the foot and smiled.

TALK TO THE HAND~!

After throwing his leg back down, he executed a spin and then cracked him right on the jaw with his signature discus punch! Blaze was much smaller than Jake and therefore the punch did more damage! He crumbled in the corner to a knee and Jake capitalized by picking up the dead weight of EZ and dropping him right on his back with a delayed back drop suplex! The crowd could almost hear EZ Blaze’s spine rattle after the impact and Tockwell casually made a cover on the young high-flying superstar. 

1 …

2 …


Another close kickout by Blaze!

Tockwell covered a second time after the first one failed.

1 …

2 …


And another kick out!
EZ Blaze was showing his toughness against the much larger Jake Tockwell. After being frustrated with the official’s count in this match, Tockwell ran his hands through his blonde locks and then kneeled up to slap on a head lock on Blaze.

“Suck rest hold, kid!” yelled Tockwell.

It probably wasn’t very appropriate for him to talk the “wrestling jargon” in the middle of a match like he was, but in the short time he was in NBW, professionalism was not the strong point of Big Talk and neither was caring about the feelings of others.

Big Talk had that sucker locked in tight, but EZ Blaze wasn’t going to give into defeat this easily. Blaze started to try and fight out of the hold by throwing elbows into the exposed rib cage of Big Talk. He was almost free, but the second that EZ Blaze tried to run away from him, Tockwell grabbed him by the neck and snapped him down to the ground where he rolled him into a cradle pin!

1 …

2 …


Kickout by EZ Blaze!

“One! Two! Three! How goddamn hard is that you stupid zebra?!” yelled Tockwell.

Big Talk was now infuriated with the official so he was about to put an end to Blaze. He scooped him up and put him on his shoulders but when he tried to put him down for a slam, Blaze countered with a big tornado DDT out of nowhere!

It was at that moment that Blaze finally had a chance to secure the victory!

”BLAZE! BLAZE! BLAZE! BLAZE! BLAZE! BLAZE!”

The lightning-fast Blaze finally had his opportunity to strike and with Tockwell still trying to get his wits about him, Blaze lit him up on his knees with kicks peppering his chest. Five painful strikes land on Tockwell’s chest and then ran off the ropes. From there he hopped right off his knee and drove Tockwell face-first into the mat with a spiked hurricanranna attack! Tockwell didn’t know where he was, but EZ Blaze was now on the second rope

CORKSCREW FOUR-FIFTY SPLASH OFF THE SECOND ROPE!!!

In just a few big moves, Blaze had not only taken over, but he now had Jake Tockwell where he wanted him!

1 …

2 …


Tockwell with the kick out!

Blaze could not believe it and neither could the fans! Perhaps one of NBW’s most gifted high-flyers had not put away Jake Tockwell but he did manage to soften him up. He landed a drop kick to the face of Tockwell and with him down on the mat now, EZ Blaze was looking for his finishing maneuver the Blaze of Glory.

He was about to take flight and he got back to the top rope. He played up to the crowd before trying his double rotation moonsault …

But there was nobody home for Blaze!

Blaze landed on his feet out of the spectacular aerial move and rolled out of it to get back on his feet. Unsuspectingly, Tockwell grabbed his mask and turned it sideways! It was a dirty trick and it certainly disoriented Blaze who was now fighting with his prized mask. Tockwell had a chance to strike.

SHUT UP~!

The crowd was in shock from the impact of the brutal running knee lift that nailed EZ Blaze right on the jaw! He was flat on his back, but Tockwell was not finishing punishing EZ. The elbow pad came off and he picked up Blaze.

THE GIFT OF GAB~!

The knee lift might have done the trick, but Tockwell left nothing to chance and just floored EZ Blaze with a devastating lariat! Tockwell pinned both shoulders to the mat and counted along with the referee.

1 …

2 …

3!


EZ Blaze had not backed down from the Memphis brawler tonight but Jake Tockwell had prevailed tonight with a big win on pay-per-view!

“Raise my hand, idiot!” yelled Tockwell. “And bring me my elbow pad and boas, you moron!”

The official rolled his eyes at the demanding and entitled star, but tonight he had just defeated EZ Blaze and after he collected his belongings, he had his arm raised.

“That's right! Big Talk's going to the pay window!”

Tockwell threw his gold and black boas over his shoulder, put his elbow pad back on and then walked to the back with EZ Blaze still looking up at the lights. He was laid out cold from that devastating lariat of Jake Tockwell but the crowd knew that the gutsy kid would certainly have his day someday.

That day would just not be tonight.

 

When you want something done right...

 

“What did I say? What did I tell everybody? What did Big Talk tell every last one of you on Slam?”

The camera was at the guerilla position and a majority of the time, this portion of the show was rarely seen by the fans - at least in comparison to your interview areas, locker rooms, garages and so on. But tonight the camera caught up with Jake Tockwell just moments after his debut pay-per-view victory over a very feisty EZ Blaze.

“Where’s the window-licker that’s supposed to be here talking to me about how good that victory was? Where are they?”

Jake Tockwell was still wiping the sweat off his brow with a towel in one hand and his prized boas over his neck.

“Come on! Somebody come here and get a word with the unde-damn-feated Jake Tockwell!”

A few stagehands continued walking by and that’s what led to Jake grunting.

“Fine then, I’m gonna do it myself! Not like we ain’t got cameras around this place!”

Tockwell looked into the camera.

“Big Talk. Yes?”

He was having a conversation with himself right in front of the camera.

“How are you feeling after you just spent five minutes mopping the ring with the hopes and dreams of one EZ Blaze?”

Tockwell laughed.

“I’m doing mighty fine, thanks for asking!” said Jake. “I told that little flipshit that I wasn’t going to come here just to lay down for him and that’s exactly what happened! Not only did I debut on Slam by beating both Spike Saunders and that big cross-eyed window-licker Warren Spade, but I beat up this masked little JAG, EZ Blaze in my NBW Pay Per View debut!”

A very gross exaggeration of the DQ victory he had in a tag match, but the Pride victory was true.

“What’s next for Big Talk?”

Jake laughed at himself.

“I’ll tell you what’s gonna happen! I’m going straight to the top of NBW so fast, I’ll be spitting out rocket fuel while I talk! I hope that everybody in NBW takes notice. I’m going right for the throat and I won’t stop until I’m standing over everybody else here as the crown jewel that NBW needs badly!”

Jake walked off from sight, proud of his … ahem. Interview.

In the background the camera caught a quick glimpse of a man standing right where he just stood on his phone.

“Hot Sauce” Raul Ramirez.

The man that unsuccessfully tried to court his old ACW stable-mate Tyson XL to his side. He had a smile on his face just right after walking the brash Tockwell leave.

“Yeah, I think we got another one. I’ll call you back.”

Raul Ramirez disappeared and the show moved on to other things.

 

Dynasty Tag Championship

 

The question on everyone's lips:  Can anyone stop The Unstoppables?

The Rich Family certainly couldn't.

The Entertainers put up a heck of a fight.

Not even the combined might of Warren Spade or Spike Saunders could manage it.

Step forward the next sacrificial lambs...

A-List.

In fairness, Victor Ingram Price, who has held this title before, and El Principe have hurt Vic Gravender in the last few weeks.  Yes, they've suffered individual losses to The Unstoppables, but was it merely sacrificing battles to ultimately win the war?  Vic Gravender had to receive last-minute clearance to compete here tonight, suffering from both head and knee injuries.  Was time catching up with the World Class Badass?

Shall we find out?

Backstage, we see the duo of El Principe and VIP leave their private locker room and make the short walk to the curtains where a couple of guards salute them and march towards the ringside area.  Waiting there, and we're talking about a matter of yards, is a limousine.  One of the guards hands the esteemed individuals over to a chauffeur, who opens the door for them to get in.

Ridiculously slow and short, the driver escorts them for ten seconds or so prior to getting out himself and holding the door yet again, this time for the ego-inflated outfit to step out.

A red carpet leading to the steps is trodden by the twosome, Principe in front, and they wipe their feet again before the ring is graced with THEIR presence.

"Weighing a combined four hundred and seventy-eight pounds...The Crown Prince of Lucha Libre, El Principe and his partner VIP...they are A-LIST!"

They're in for the fight of their life.

A Warrior's Call indeed.

And it brought out two former World heavyweight champions and the most dominant nbW tandem of all time.

"Their opponents...weighing in at a combined SIX HUNDRED AND SEVENTY-SEVEN POUNDS...your nbW DYNASTY TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS...Tyson XL....Vic Gravender....THE UNSTOPPABLES!!!"

These guys are all business.  While smacking the hands of eager fans on either side of the aisle, XL and Gravender had their game faces on.  Vic visibly limped, side-by-side, but he was fighting through the pain barrier and who would want to piss him off?

A fully-fit Tyson XL stepped through the ropes routinely and warmed up while waiting for the World Class Badass.

Prematurely perhaps, the bell tolled while Vic slapped Tyson on the back and headed to the right side of the ring.  Towards their left, a debate among the A-List members was ensuing.

In the end, the guys who got it on at Slam 83, Tyson XL and Victor Ingram Price, would start us off here at Pride.  For The Unstoppables, this was certainly a smart decision with Vic still struggling with a head injury initially inflicted by Warren Spade dumping him on his head, not to mention A-List also targeting that well-known left knee hindrance.

Price and XL circled each other.  The former was reluctant to engage with The Big Gun head-on.  A futile clap attempt to get the crowd into it failed.  Funnily enough, when Ty tried it, everyone joined in, pissing Price off in the process.

Ingram got his own back by frustrating XL and the fans.  Rather than locking up when it seemed poised to, Price played with his hair, stroking it at the back and leaning on the ropes, stretching.  Now, VIP is ready!

A traditional Tie-up, oddly, went Price's way.  That's because he grabbed a swift Side Headlock rather than meet Ty with full exertion.  Ingram wrenched away at said Headlock until XL quickly converted it into a Belly-to-Back Suplex!

Tyson stepped out at the South-West side of the ring and went upstairs, not wasting any time to fire a Missile Dropkick.  Unfortunately for him, Hollywood's Latest Star, allegedly, saw it coming and moved mere inches to avoid what would've been incredible contact.

A Clothesline by Price rocked XL without flooring him.  Ingram ran the ropes and connected with a second Lariat.  Would the third time be the charm?

No, it would be a Bossman Slam!

Ty rose to his feet and hauled Victor up with utter ease, dumping the stuck-up star with an authoritative Fireman's Carry Slam. 

However, he hurt his head as he attempted to follow up with a Running Back Senton, only to see Price roll out of the way in the nick of time.

Speaking of time, Victor wasn't hanging around here either as he stood up, grabbed the former ACW World champion, wiped his feet and got ready to rock Tyson, as he had done on Slam 83, with...

Red Carpet Treatment!


Fortunately for the fans, the Flatliner fell flat: XL reversed the predicament into a positive in the form of a Northern Light Suplex, a pinfall chucked in free of charge.

1...

2...


Ty was up and, surprisingly, Ingram wasn't far behind...

A Clothesline by Ty took the wind out of Price's sails.  And, when Tyson turned round, he saw a nod of the head by that surly veteran, his partner in chaos...

Vic Gravender.

The crowd cheered as Tyson tagged out to bring the bout's biggest man into the battleground.

Gravender's entrance was warmly received by everyone, excluding A-List, and Vic set about getting revenge on these upstarts.  Firstly, he grabbed Vic in a Full Nelson and pasted him with Face Paver, marching him into the bottom right-hand buckles and introducing his young head into the top one on a handful of occasions before breaking on the stroke of five.

We all know Vic loves a Suplex and a devastating Double Choke Overhead variant splattered the other Vic all over the mat.  Would the match be all over?

One...

Two...


Price did well to kick out.

Gravender scraped Price up off the canvas, firing him into the ropes on the left side of the ring.  A Running Body Block was there to abruptly meet Vic on his return to the middle.  Gravender made a cover.

Strangely, the official refused to acknowledge, which puzzled Gravender.  What had happened in between was that Principe had tagged Ingram from the outside in mid-flight.  The masked Mexican was now on the inside...

And he stuck a boot to Vic's big bonce!  Two or three more came the former nbW Champion's way and now he was starting to feel those blows.

While Price rolled to the outside, Principe continued kicking away at Gravender.  Well, until The Unstoppable member caught Principe's dangerous right leg...Dolores Bell!  (Bell Clap.)

The elementary yet effective counter clearly rang Gravender's bell!  The Crown Prince of Lucha Libre rebounded again with a Lariat.  He was hell-bent on doing it again when he saw Vic's hand cocked, ready to fight back.  Upon come off the ropes, the masked man changed Larry Tact and bombarded Gravender's bum knee with a wonderfully-timed and well-placed Dropkick!

Principe was all over Vic's left leg like flies on shit, or, Hillary over Alicia Machado.  A Seated Senton to the same knee saw Gravender cry out in pain - a rare occurrence for one of the most powerful competitors to ever step foot in an nbW ring.

El Principe dragged Gravender, as best he could, towards the ropes at the north end of the squared circle, close to the ropes and repeated the feat with the bottom rope as a tag team partner.  A kick, aided by the middle rope, was an appropriate follow-up.   All on the point of the knee.

The Mexican applied a Figure Four, evading some light resistance by Vic's hair-pulling ploy.  While the official checked on Gravender, Principe, whose back was near the ropes, reached up and clung to the middle one, prompting jeers from our fanbase.  Once the official heard those, he turned round and spotted the middle rope shaking, as you'd imagine, but Principe predictably shook his head and Ingram reinforced that by saying the masked wrestler's head had hit the rope.  Ty, far away from the incident, refuted that, though his plea fell on deaf ears.

Anyway, the Figure Four remained on and it pumped out a sequence of 2-counts as even the ultra-powerful Gravender struggled to deal with the stress placed on seven parts of the leg by this tried and trusted submission.

Once again, Principe pushed his luck, reaching for the middle rope.  In the meantime, he forced another couple of 2-counts as Vic, shaking his head desperately, fought this best he could.

Fortunately, THIS time, the ref caught Principe red-handed and prised their legs apart, ouch, which prompted Principe to stand up in protest and get in our official's face.  Rightfully, the referee stood his ground and warned the Luchadore for his underhand behaviour and outright audacity.  The non-English speaking competitor probably didn't comprehend.

Rather than dwell on his disciplinary meeting, Principe stuck a couple of boots to Vic's left knee again and bent over to choke the big bastard out (that sounds so crude without context,) breaking on four before he really started to wear out the official's patience.

Principe held Vic's two legs and dragged him, which was a struggle, a bit nearer to A-List corner, paving the way for Price to return.

Nobody could believe what they saw!

Perhaps Ingram is capable of doing just one or two reps of this in the gym, hence doing it here on pay-per-view.  The Californian Comet grabbed the World Class Badass by his arms alone and rammed Vic's head into the bottom turnbuckle not once, nor twice, but thrice.  Talk about adding insult to injury!  Normally, Gravender's dick move is the Giant Swing.  Now, the Pendulum Swing had reversed the roles and Vic was the victim for once.

Some begrudging claps, mainly because of Ingram's surprising strength, greeted Price's effort (or lack of.)  On commentary, Gains stood up, applauded and bowed to Vic.  Ingram, who saw this out of the corner of his eye, in turn did the same and CG got a kick out of this as he returned to his match-calling duties.

Subsequently, Price jumped on Gravender's knee.  Normally, the post-Pendulum Swing is reserved for the neck or back, but Ingram was intelligent enough to realise it would have more impact in the southern region of the anatomy.

With Gravender resting, if you can call it that, on the bottom rope, Vic elected to choke the 381-pounder powerhouse.  Upon breaking on 4, the A-Lister stood up apologetically, absorbing all of the information given to him by the official, all the while Principe added Elbows to the top of Gravender's head.  They'd not forgotten about that weakness either.

A wink by Vic, once the official had turned his attentions back to the action, was smarmy and indicative of the individual.  As was...

Brush with Greatness!

Only, the Bronco Buster was rebuffed with a Headbutt to the nuts!  Yes, Gravender had gored Ingram in the most delicate of places and now Price was rolling around in absolute agony.  When Principe had the nerve to complain, the referee raised one finger on each hand, a language he could understand, and raised Principe's ire even more.

In other words, turnabout was fair play.

Vic started to make the ascent halfway across the ring to safer waters.  He'd come in to make an impact, but his injuries appear to have hampered him from doing so for the time being.  Could he tag out to Tyson XL?

YES!

Meanwhile, on the other side, Principe had made way for Price.  Victor came in, then backed up for a moment and that moment of hesitation cost him as XL flattened him with a Running Spear!

Tyson picked Vic up for a German Suplex.  With the Waistlock applied, it was time for lift-off...

LOW BLOW!

A stray kick threatened to ruin any chances of Tyson giving his daughter a sibling, and the best of it?  The referee was unsighted and didn't actually see the cheap shot, though when he saw the fallen super heavyweight clutching his nads on the canvas, akin to Vic himself earlier, he deducted what had happened.  Even still, he couldn't disqualify Ingram for the discrepancy, especially when Victor gestured to his own coconuts and how the official hadn't warned Gravender for almost dismembering Hollywood's Latest Star.

VIP shrugged it off, eventually, and called for something.  He had Tyson right where he wanted and made Ty feel welcome by rolling out...

THE RED CARPET TREATMENT!!!

Smiling, and indeed proud of himself, the Californian Comet had a Cheshire Cat grin on his face, bowing before the four sides of the building.  He hadn't learned his lesson from Slam 83, when he executed exactly the same manoeuvre in virtually the same spot, only to go on and actually lose that bout.

Principe, justifiably so, was FURIOUS.  Victor, wrongfully believing the Mexican wanted to congratulate him, exchanged high-fives.

El Principe and our referee accepted that as a tag.  Unlike Ingram, Principe ran over and immediately hooked The Big Gun's right leg...

UNO...

DOS...



TRY AGAIN!

 
Boy, that was close.  The Crown Prince of Lucha Libre, from a kneeling position, SHOUTED at Price, who couldn't understand what all the fuss was.  Running the ropes from the bottom of the ring, Principe was determined to finish Tyson - and The Unstoppables off - once and for all...

Scoop Powerslam by Ty!

And a big-time Elbow Drop!

One...

Two...


Principe got a shoulder up!  Talk about the two ends of the spectrum.  In the matter of half a minute, both teams had gone close to clinching victory.

Tyson was about to treat Mexican Wrestling Royalty with no respect whatsoever, ragging Principe around with a Torture Rack!

Price cut a worried figure on the outside and was tempted to wade in, but the referee spotted him and suggested otherwise.  He'd have to wait.
Suddenly, Ty dropped Principe in a heap and nailed him with another Elbow Drop.

1...

2...


Give Principe credit for kicking out.

XL then whipped the Prince into his own corner and scored with a Running Hip Attack.  Vic was ready to come back in, via the second rope no less.

THE INCREDIBLE FLYING WRECKING BALL...MISSES!!!

Vic Gravender's power has never been in doubt and nor has his in-ring intelligence.  That's what makes him that little (LOT) more lethal.  However, that probably wasn't his brightest idea as he hit his head hard again.

Pricipe was also dizzy.  They both were.  Nevertheless, Principe tagged out to Price, who made a beeline for Gravender...

Running Blockbuster!

One...

Two....


Th...at wasn't far away!

Showing impressive verve and strength himself, Victor lifted his namesake up and nailed him with an Atomic Drop...

A knee to the gut...

And, finally, a Chop Block.  A-List hadn't neglected that and now they had Vic, who couldn't ordinarily be accused of being anyone's weakest link, in again, they were determined to keep him there.  The Dynasty Tag Team titles depended on it.

"The World Class Badass...did you call him that?  Or is it self-proclaimed?"  The Californian was taunting both Unstoppables.  Would he survive to tell the tale?

He would for now, tagging out to El Principe, who reminded Gravender of what he'd been missing with another Seated Senton to Vic's torn tree trunk.

The plan, unsurprisingly, was to bowl a second Senton.  Vic used his other leg to guide Principe cleanly over the top rope, talk about strength, and the crowd willed Gravender to fight through great pain and make it back to his corner.

Desperately, Price ran in, only to be stopped by the official.  Meanwhile...

TAG!

Tyson steamed in, only for Vic to let go of the official, who had been stopping him.  Now, the zebra was trying to halt the rhino from charging!  He hadn't seen the tag!

Incredibly, or perhaps not, Price veered away to pull Gravender, who hadn't quite left the ring yet, back into the middle of the battleground.  He paid the former nbW number one back with a headbutt of his own to the groin!  When the fans booed, he stood up and held one finger on each hand up.  1-1!  Just like the referee had told Vic and Principe earlier. 

In other words, turnabout WAS fair play.  The fans HATED it.  C.G Gains agreed and, yes, even Melissa did to an extent.  Mind you, she argued it wasn't 1-1, but 3 or 4-1 to A-List in the foul department.

So, Tyson was denied entry through customs, which Price laughed about.  Just as he was about to pick Gravender up, he was prevented from doing so and reminded he wasn't the legal man either!  The smile was turned upside down and became a frown.  The fans LOVED that and waved him goodbye, just as they had done when A-List were disqualified for their blatant cheating at Eternal Judgment.

Price was incredulous, which only added to the supporters' glee.  However, he'd get the last laugh.  He saw Principe climb up onto the apron and tagged him on the shoulder.  Turning back to the official:  "Is that okay for you?"

What an attitude.  As he was about to place Gravender in another Figure Four, the World Class Badass did what he did to Price's partner back on Slam 84 and club Ingram as much as he could, fervently and desperately, until the Californian collapsed, unable to take Graavender's heavy-handed artillery.

Vic, on his back, moved....

Tag to Tyson!

LEGAL this time.

A Belly-to-Belly Slam on Vic made the audience roar, as if every one of them had just got their own back on Ingram.

Price was up again...

Until Ty downed him with a wonderful Dropkick!

Ingram wouldn't stay down...

A second Dropkick kept him there this time!!

Tyson raised his arm in the air.  Was A-List's time up?  He whipped Vic into the ropes...

NUCLEAR XL BOMB IS ON THE WAY(Running Liger Bomb.)

...AVERTED by a Hurricanrana!

What agility these two guys, both over 6'4, had illustrated.

1....

2....


No, it'll need more than that!

How about...

Hollywood Boulevard!!!

(Moonlight Drive.)

Price's superior pace had told there.

ONE...

TWO...


TH...
AT'S NOT FAR AWAY!!!

Vic couldn't help himself: he had to argue with the official.  Principe tried to keep his co-worker focused on the task at hand.

Surely, the Red Carpet Treatment would be enough on this occasion?  Surely, he'd actually cover Tyson?  Price's patented Flatliner was in place...

Tyson pushed him up against the ropes and when Ingram returned...

XL BOMB!  (POP-UP POWERBOMB.)

Before the crowd could POP, Principe stopped Tyson on the stoke of two with a timely Axe-Handle.  While not hot on his feet, a limping Gravender LAID the meddling Mexican OUT with a Battering Ram Headbutt!  It was FEROCIOUS.

It brought about another massive cheer.  Vic wasn't done with the masked man yet, lifting him up into a Military Press Slam position and chucking the Crown Prince of Lucha Libre away with no regard for his reputation, wealth or status whatsoever. Nor authority, as the official seemed to be losing control of this contest.

Price was still down.  Tyson, the legal man if you recall, was about to administer the coup de grace...

METEOR CRASH (MOONSAULT.)

Price got the knees up!

And not only that...

He was now in a prime position himself.

Or was he?

Lariat by Ty...made to miss.

Kick by Vic...connects to the gut.

RED CARPET TREATMENT - YES!!!

Gains:  "OH MY GOD!!!  They've done it, Melissa.  They've stopped The Unstoppables.  Can you believe it?"

"No, I can't," came her solemn reply.

As Victor sensibly made the cover, no messing about this time, the crowd counted along...

ONE...

TWO....


THREE!!
!


NO, NO, NO!

That's what everyone, including Vic, shouted.  He shook his head, refusing to believe that the Big Gun had shown big balls and kicked out in the nick of time!  He questioned the count in vain, but the man in the striped shirt wasn't going to sway.

What was unquestionable...that moment is the closest ANYONE has got to taking the Dynasty Tag titles away from the wide waists of Tyson XL and Vic Gravender.

Could the distraught Price capitalise?  If he got his head right, this match could be there for the taking, and that was on the back of being INCHES away from being injured and beaten himself.

Even Gravender had looked worried, though ultimately, he'd trusted Tyson.  A livid Victor smacked the canvas three times in frustration and then stood up, speaking to himself, presumably trying to come to terms with the fact Tyson had rejected the Red Carpet Treatment!

What was Price doing?

Going outside.

Seemingly set, Victor waited for Tyson to be upright...

HOLLYWOOD BLOCKBUSTER!  (Springboard Blockbuster.)

Gains:  "A world premiere there...that will STOP The Unstoppables!"

One...

Two...


It would've, had Gravender not stuck his oar on and the World Class Badass was already on his heels without needing the referee's warning.  Price, foaming, screamed:  "Get that fat fuck out of here!"

That made Vic, who hadn't actually vacated the ring, turn around and feign a punch, which Price ducked out of fear.  Gravender let out a deep laugh and left on the official's accord. 

El Principe was still on the arena floor, albeit on his knees.  Price thought about making the tag, but mumbled to himself that he'd have to do this on his own.  He had come  CLOSE.

We'd have two doses of the Red Carpet Treatment.

Seen a Hollywood Blockbuster.

Now, we were about to get the VIP Treatment (Last Ride.)

Except, it was too much of a load to bear and the Big Gun had other ideas, sneaking in a Backbody Drop.  The spa, manicure and champagne on ice would have to wait.

Gravender wanted back in and in the worst possible way.  He wanted to give a much better account of himself than he had done.  Ty had carried him during this duel and he wanted to repay the former ACW kingpin.  On the other side, Price saw that Principe was back where he should be too, on the apron, and the race was ON!!!

1...

2...

3...

4...

5...

6....

7...Price tagged Principe!

A second later...

HERE'S GRAVENDER!!!

Dropkick by Principe dropped the big man.  Wow.  The attempted Irish Whip was a bridge too far, and was easily reversed...

Thrust Spinebuster!  Forget about it!

Gravender had eaten VIP's Pendulum Swing.  Ideally, he would've given Ingram a receipt.  Principe would have to suffice...

GIANT SWING!!!

Everyone rose to their feet and applauded Vic.  He wasn't in the mood to pose, unlike his namesake, and another Irish Whip to the corner, forced the Crown Prince to slump down in the South-West side of the ring...

BULLDOZER!!!

The Running Cannonball Corner Senton WIPED Principe out! 

If that weren't enough...

Vic, implored by the audience, and with a renewed sense of energy...

Still had the strength in his legs, everywhere...

To confound Price's ridicule...



WORLD CLASS BOMB DROP!

The Spiral Powerbomb has surely ended A-List's bold quest to derail these two man mountains?

One...

Two...


NO!

What?

Price broke the count up with a kick to Vic's head.  Tyson launched himself at Ingram with a gorgeous Crossbody Block and repeatedly punched the dickhead in the face.  For good measure, VIP was then tossed out through the middle rope.

El Principe v The Unstoppables and there's only one winner.  And it's not THE ONE on his own!

Another BULLDOZER of a Headbutt!

As Principe wobbled, Tyson held him up...

Then bent him over (easy now...)

There was going to be an explosion (yet more innuendo.)


NUCLEAR XL BOMB!!!

The Liger Bomb had LANDED.  Normally, anyone can execute this move, but do they have 296 pounds and buckets of power behind it?

No, I didn't think so.

And does anyone believe Principe can beat this count?

ONE...

TWO....


THAT'S RIGHT...

THREE!!!

Tyson and Vic didn't do hugs.  A handshake and the official raising their arms into the air was an appropriate to celebrate what had been a hard night's work, even if it had been ultimately successful and I refer you to the question prior to this bout even getting started.  Was it a rhetorical one?

On the outside, Price had his head in his hands.  A-List, especially him, had come close to dislodging The Unstoppables' undisputed status as the team to beat here in No Brand Wrestling.

The hysteria among the audience hadn't died down yet.  Not quite.  Of all the tag team bouts tonight, this one had stood out as the finest - the second successive pay-per-view for A-List and proof of their credentials as a top team in this company.

Twice, Price nailed Tyson with the Red Carpet Treatment.  If only he'd covered him in the first instance or been able to follow up after striking the second. 

A-List had come mighty close.

But, to quote Steve from Narcos concerning the police's numerous attempts to catch Colombian druglord Pablo Escobar...

Close doesn't count.

And, now they'd nearly tasted defeat, did that mean The Unstoppables were more dangerous than ever before?

 

A FEW WORDS

 

This can go right before the main event, please.

He was focused.

He was intense.

He was ready.

Those are three things that came to mind when the camera opened to the backstage hallway area where Warren Spade was currently stomping.

With just a few minutes to go until showtime when he took on Derecho for the NBW World championship, the Monster of the Mid-South was approached by Adria Hoyt.

“Warren? Warren? Can I get a few words?”

The One-Man Stampede didn’t say anything to her. He was still walking when Adria tried to get a word.

“Just a quick word, then? What’s going through your mind as you’re about to face Derecho? And what about Fenton Woo …”

The mention of his best friend and manager made him completely stop. Adria Hoyt looked frightened when the Monster of the Mid-South turned to face her.

“Fenton’s not here because that piece of shit injured him. If you want a quick word, Adria, then here are a few:”

The Monster of the Mid-South counted down a word with each finger.

“Revenge. Pain. And the most important ones: NEW CHAMPION.

Warren brushed her off and headed to the ring to face off against the sinister Derecho and make good on his promise to win his first major singles championship in NBW!

 

MAIN EVENT

 

We return ringside where Vanderart and Gains are greeting the viewers.

"It is now time folks for our Main Event of PRIDE. The Mid-South Monster Warren Spade will be going one on one with the NBW World Heavyweight Champion, Derecho!"

"All without his little manager mouth piece, of course." Gains added with confidence, "Spade will learn just as EVERY SINGLE OTHER person that has come to face him has. He is King. We are all his subjects."

"Just remember Craig, Warren Spade while not as athletic as someone like Lucky Carter, is a giant among men and earned this championship oppurtunity by beating fellow giant, The Colossus, Spike Saunders at LEGACY. And as seen moments ago, he is fired up!"

"So?" Gains didn't really give a crap about the two, "that match should never have had that stipulation. Neither deserved it but our General Manager just loves giving way to the fans and his friends."

"In either case Craig, tonight Spade has the chance of his career." She smiled at Brent Williams as he took his steps into the ring. "And with Brent in position, it's time for our World Heavyweight Championship match. Take it away Brent!"

 

World Championship

 

Warren Spade’s newfound focus allowed him to defeat a long-time rival and NBW legend Spike Saunders on the biggest stage of them all, Legacy.  However, the NBW World Heavyweight Champion, Derecho, felt that Warren Spade had become weak despite his recent accolades. Since then, the two have been at each other’s throats with Derecho using Fenten Woods as an example of what would be in store for Spade should he not back down from his quest to become World Champion.  Jake Tockwell even became involved as he sided with Derecho for an opportunity at Spike Saunders.

This battle will come to fruition here tonight where only one can walk out champion.

DING

DING

DING


“Ladies and gentlemen… the following contest is your main event for this evening and is scheduled for one fall with a sixty minute time limit.  This match will be for the NBW World Heavyweight Championship!” said ring announcer Brent Williams.

The sounds of a grinding guitar riff flood the arena ...

The opening chords to "Deliverance" by Corrosion of Confirmity blast through every speaker available. Flashing on the EpiCenter was a repeated set of words.

MONSTER.

OF THE.

MIDSOUTH.

Red and gold strobe lights flashed throughout the building and just as the song started up its first verse, out came Warren Spade, cracking his tremendous neck and hands, readying for competition. Clips from some of his career highlights play with "MONSTER OF THE MIDSOUTH" interrupting every few seconds.

Pushing down the ropes, Warren stepped over them with ease and he raised both hands into the air to a tremendous pop from the crowd. The giant stared down the curtain and waited for his opponent to arrive.

The lights in the arena dimmed.

"I am....

....I am"

"Charisma" by WASP


A lone spotlight lights up the stage and we see Derecho with his back to the arena. Derecho was clad in his typical black leather trench coat while sporting a pair of sunglasses with the NBW World Heavyweight Championship fastened firmly around his waist. The lights then begin to pulse to the beat of the song in random fashion. Derecho looked over his shoulder and grinned before pivoting and beginning his descent towards the ring. The capacity crowd on hand booed and showed their disdain, but Derecho paid no mind to them.

Derecho stopped at the bottom of the entrance ramp and then turned to his left. He stomped up the steel ring steps and stepped into the ring between the middle and the top rope. Derecho made his way to the center of the ring where pulsing spotlights illuminated him from different angles. Derecho stretched out his arms and looked up toward the rafters as he wanted the NBW Universe to bask in his glory. Derecho then flicked his wrists and removed his sunglasses followed by his trench coat, passing them off to ringside.

The arena returned to normal when Brent Williams stepped forward for the introductions.

“Introducing first… the challenger.  From West Memphis, Arkansas. Weighing in at 347 pounds…. WARREN SPADE!

Spade stood there and glared at Derecho.  He didn’t raise his arms to the crowd even though they cheered for him wildly, but instead, displayed a look of focus and murderous intent to the man who had gotten under his skin these past few months.”

“And his opponent.  From Stuart, Florida.  Weighing in at 237 pounds… he is the reigning and defending… NBW Heavyweight Champion of the World…. This… is…. DERECHO!”

Derecho unfastened the NBW World Heavyweight Championship and held it high into the air, not letting Warren Spade’s death glare deter him.  Derecho passed the championship to senior referee Chuck Radford who held it high into the air.

Derecho turned his back and grabbed the ropes in the corner to loosen up, but…

WHAM!!!

WARREN SPADE CHARGED IN IMMEDIATELY AND BLASTED DERECHO IN THE BACK OF THE HEAD!!

DING

DING

DING


Derecho was spun around by Spade and tried to put up a defense as Spade threw punches at any part of Derecho that was open, be it a body blow or a punch to the head.  It didn’t matter to Spade.  Spade continued to rain blow after blow upon Derecho under he hooked Derecho under the arm and tossed him out of the corner with a huge Biel!

Derecho staggered up to his feet and tried to regain his footing, but Spade charged in at full speed and sandwiched Derecho in the corner with a Running Body Avalanche!  Derecho collapsed down to a seated position and immediately grabbed the ropes, pulling himself out to the floor where he tried to regain his composure, but Spade hit the ropes.  The crowd stood on their feet as Spade launched himself over the top rope and his near 350 pound frame came crashing down on top of Derecho, squashing him against the floor after the intense impact!

The entire crowd inside the arena hit their feet… some of which had their hands on top of their heads in shock!  Warren Spade… a powerhouse monster… left his feet and used his entire body as a weapon to take out the world champion!

“HOLY SHIT!”
“HOLY SHIT!”
“HOLY SHIT!”
“HOLY SHIT!”
“HOLY SHIT!”

Spade wasn’t done, though!

He stood and grabbed Derecho, pulling him up to his feet.  He pressed Derecho against the edge of the ring apron and hit knee lift after knee lift into Derecho’s stomach!  Chuck Radford was counting the two of them out and was up to the count of four, but Spade continued to hit the knee lifts, each one making Derecho weaker and weaker.  The referee got up to the count of seven before Spade grabbed Derecho and threw him back into the ring under the bottom rope.

Derecho rolled to the center of the ring and began to crawl away towards the opposite side, seeking brief sanctuary, but Spade rolled back in and quickly grabbed Derecho by the leg, preventing his escape.  Spade reached down and wrapped his arms around Derecho’s waist.  He then deadlifted Derecho up off the canvas and tossed him over with a Gutwrech Suplex!!  Spade’s pure power was on dominant display here as he popped back up and looked at Derecho writhing in pain on the canvas.

Spade backed into the corner and began to drag his foot on the canvas. The crowd hit their feet knowing full well what came next.  Derecho staggered up to his feet and Spade charged in. 

THE TRAMPLE!!!

It connected and damn near cut Derecho straight in half!  The crowd was going apeshit!  Not even five minutes into this match and we were about to crown a brand new NBW World Champion!  Spade hooked the leg deep as he made the cover… the crowd counting along with Chuck Radford.

ONE!

TWO!

THRE..
NO!!!!

Derecho popped the shoulder up and the crowd booed heavily.

Derecho’s eyes were glossed over.  Was it an involuntary reflex or did he have the strength to continue?  Spade’s relentless onslaught at the beginning of this match took a huge toll on the world champion and Spade knew it.  Derecho grabbed the bottom rope and began to pull himself up, but Spade was already up to his feet staring like a predator stalking his prey.  Derecho got up with his back turned to Spade and that’s when Spade hoisted Derecho up onto his shoulders with the Argentine Backbreaker, but before Spade could transition it into one of his finishers, Derecho wriggled free and landed behind Spade.

Derecho collapsed to a single knee upon landing, but he got up and staggered away into the corner.  Spade turned and charged immediately, but Derecho moved and caused Spade to hit chest first into the turnbuckles.  Spade staggered back and turned around to be met with a basement dropkick to his left knee by Derecho.  This put the big man down on all fours and as Spade was getting back up, Derecho lunged in and connected with the knee to the face…

SHINING WIZARD!

Spade hit the canvas and held his face in pain.  Derecho rolled over to the corner where he propped himself up against the buckles in a seated position. His hair was a mess, but he glanced over at Spade, heaving air in and out of his lungs.  Derecho was hurt, but he was also pissed.  Derecho sat there as long as he could, but Spade eventually started to get back up. This is when Derecho grabbed the ropes and pulled himself up to his feet.

Derecho charged in and hit a running stomp to the top of Spade’s head as he was just about to get vertical.  This jolted spade and caused him to fall back to his hands and knees.  Derecho backed up and charged in again, hitting a field goal kick right into Spade’s mid-section, causing the big man to gasp for air.  Derecho went to the corner and ascended the turnbuckle pads as Spade got back up to all fours. Derecho took a moment to measure Spade up and then leapt off…

FROG SPLASH!!

It connected and it caused Spade to collapse down to the canvas.  Spade was on fire from the opening bell, but now, Derecho was beginning to affirm his control over this match.  Derecho elected not to go for the pin because he knew that wasn’t enough to put a man like Spade away.  Instead Derecho backed away and allowed Spade to recover a bit.  Derecho measure Spade up as he got back up to his feet.  Derecho charged in and went right back to that left knee with another basement drop kick.  Derecho quickly stood and hit the ropes. He came running back, but Spade stood up and popped Derecho up high into the air…

POP UP POWERBOMB WITH AUTHORITY!!!

The entire ring shook from the velocity of the impact!  The crowd let out a massive “OOOOHHH!!!!!”  As Derecho’s head and neck whiplashed into the canvas!  Spade immediately covered Derecho, looking for the win!

One….

Two….

Thre…
NO!!!!!

Derecho kicked out at the last second AGAIN!

Only two pinfall attempts in this match thus far and both were from the challenger Warren Spade. Both times they were within milliseconds of crowning a new World Champion.  Derecho’s resilience was legend in this business, but Spade knew that if he was this close this early on into the match, it was only a matter of time. No human body can continue to kick out of moves like that on a consistent basis.

Spade reached down and grabbed Derecho and pulled him up.  We saw a trickle of blood coming out of Derecho’s mouth. He could have internal injuries after that powerbomb or the jolting impact could have caused him to bite his lip or tongue.  Whatever the case may be, blood was drawn and Spade smiled when he saw it.  He hit Derecho with a thunderous headbutt that rocked him back up against the ropes.  He grabbed Derecho by the arm and shot him across the ring with an Irish Whip.  Spade backed into the ropes as well and the two met in the middle with a sickening impact to the face!  Warren Spade laid out Derecho with his patented Running Big Boot and Derecho hit the canvas hard!

Spade went for another cover.

One….

Two…

Thre.
.NO!!!!

Another last minute kickout by Derecho!

Three pins and three nearfalls.  Was Derecho really this weak or was Derecho taking as much of those counts as possible to try and regain whatever energy he could? A veteran knows little tricks like that, but given the onslaught we’ve seen, Derecho could just very well be that weakened.

Spade got back up and pulled Derecho back to his feet.  He shoved Derecho back into the corner and hoisted him up onto the top turnbuckle pad.  Spade the got underneath Derecho looked to Biel him off the buckles and halfway across the ring, but when Spade went for the super toss, Derecho reached back and hooked Spade by the head…

ACE CRUSHER!!!

I don’t think we have ever seen Derecho use an Ace Crusher in his entire career! The level of desperation going through Derecho’s mind at this point… to pull out a move he’s never used before just for the sake of buying some time… must be at an all-time high!

Spade rolled onto his back while holding his neck and head in pain.  Derecho dragged himself over to the corner and pulled himself back up.  Derecho leaned against the turnbuckles and did his best to regain his composure.  Spade began to stand back up slowly and when he was vertical, Derecho charged in at full speed and leapt into the air, hitting a flying forearm right to the face of Warren Spade!  Derecho sprinted back to the corner. He charged in again and hit a second flying forearm to Warren Spade!  Spade was wobbly as Derecho went for the hat trick.  Derecho flew into the corner, but Spade reached out and grabbed him by the throat.  Derecho quickly stomped on Spade’s shin and broke free and then hit a standing drop kick, staggering him back to the corner.

Derecho got up and got another full head of steam. It was then that he hit the third flying forearm to the face and that one dropped Spade down into a seated position!  Derecho went back to the opposite corner once again and charged in at full speed.  He then planted both boots right into Spade’s face with the Shotgun Dropkick and that looked to put Spade on dream street.

It took a bit of strength to drag Spade out of the corner and to the center of the ring, but Derecho managed to do so and made a cover with a lateral press.  His first of the match.

One….

Tw…


Before we could get a complete two count, Spade forcefully kicked out, popping Derecho off of him, much to the roar of the crowd!

The look of desperation on Derecho’s face became even more apparent as Spade began to pull himself back up.  Derecho knew that with the punishment he took, it would be a herculean effort to lift a man of Spade’s size up.  Strikes were all that he could use against the big man in his current situation, but the results have been fleeting. Derecho’s one and only cover in this match showed the worlds of difference between the two of them as far as their conditions were concerned and Derecho, perhaps for the first time since he had been regarded as a veteran in this business, had no idea what to do next.

Derecho stepped in once Spade got vertical and rocked him with a big right hand. It seemed to stun Spade so Derecho threw another right. He threw a third, then a fourth, then a fifth, then a sixth, but by the time punch seven connected, he realized, they weren’t affecting Spade anymore!  Spade retaliated with a knee lift to Derecho that dropped him down to his hands and knees.  Spade wrapped his arms around Derecho’s waist and for the second time in this match, took him over with a Deadlift Gutwrench Suplex!  Derecho bounced off the canvas and partially sat up to hold his lower back in pain.  Derecho forced himself up to his feet as Spade charged in, looking for a second running big boot, but Derecho side stepped and caught Spade’s leg in a cradle!!!

Derecho tried lifting Spade up and over with a Cradle Suplex, but the strength just wasn’t there. He couldn’t even get Spade’s foot off the canvas as it was like picking up a brick wall.  Spade used a well-placed elbow to the top of Derecho’s head to cause Derecho to loosen his grip.  Spade freed his leg and grabbed Derecho by the arm, pulling him into a Short Arm Clothesline that flipped Derecho over onto his stomach!  Derecho laid there face-first on the canvas.  He was completely motionless after getting drilled that hard.  Spade backed into the corner and dragged his foot along the canvas.  Spade was looking to end this match here and now!

Derecho slowly got back to his feet and when he did, Spade charged in at full speed, but at the last second, so did Derecho.

SMACK!!!!

The sickening smack of Derecho’s knee ramming into Spade’s face echoed throughout the arena.  Immediately, blood came pouring out of Spade’s forehead as the impact caused a laceration right above Spade’s right eye!  People covered their mouths in shock as Spade hit the canvas like a sack of bricks. 

It didn’t matter if you were five feet tall or seven feet tall.  A blow to the head will have the same effects no matter how big you are and right now, the lights upstairs were turned out completely for Warren Spade.  Derecho just needed that one shot, but the question now remained… how can Derecho pick up Warren Spade for the Emerald Flowsion?

Hell… how could he pick him up off the canvas?

Then Derecho looked to the corner and remembered he had more than that in his arsenal.  Derecho went to the turnbuckles and climbed up top. He took aim on Warren Spade and leapt off, covering the distance needed…

SHOW STEALER!!!

The Distance Top Turnbuckle Leg Drop connected as the force of 237 pounds crashed down on Spade’s chest and neck!  Derecho made the cover, hooking the leg.

One…

Two…

THREE
…..?

NO!!!!

SPADE KICKED OUT AND THE CROWD ERUPTED!

Although it was time for Warren Spade to taste a nearfall, this one didn’t anger Derecho.. It gave him a look of fear.  He just gave Spade his two best shots given the circumstances and it didn’t do the job.  Derecho decided to go for a second Show Stealer while Spade was still down.  He went back to the corner and climbed up top, but all of a sudden, Fenton Woods came out from the back and hopped up on the ring apron to distract Derecho. Derecho looked extremely annoyed by this and hopped off the top turnbuckle, landing back in the ring.  He turned and grabbed Fenton by the neck as the referee tried to get involved.

Spade got back up to his feet and saw his chance with Derecho’s back turned.  Spade charged in, but Derecho side-stepped at the last minute and…

THE TRAMPLE…

..ON FENTON WOODS!!

It was an accident by all accounts.  Fenton took a Trample as Spade buried his shoulder into his mid-section between the middle and top rope.  Fenton flew off the ring apron and slammed hard into the guard railing!  Spade was in shock and the referee immediately exited the ring to check on Fenton.

Meanwhile, Derecho used the confusion and roll out of the ring and grab the NBW World Heavyweight Championship off the timekeeper’s table. Spade was leaning over the top rope, shouting at the referee to check on Fenton. That’s when Derecho rolled back into the ring and charged from behind.

WHAM!!

BELT SHOT TO THE BACK OF THE HEAD!

The impact pressed Spade against the ropes. The rebound momentum caused Spade to stagger back and turn around.  Spade had just enough time to see Derecho lunge in and take another shot.

WHAM!!!

BELT SHOT TO THE FACE!!!

Spade went down and Derecho threw the belt out of the ring.  Derecho went to the corner and went to the top turnbuckle.

“HEY!” yelled Derecho at the referee.  “GET IN HERE AND DO YOUR DAMN JOB!”

Derecho then leapt off the top turnbuckle and…

SHOW STEALER!!!

The leg drop connected and the referee quickly slid back into the ring as Derecho made the cover.

One…

Two….

THREE!!!


The crowd booed heavily, but Derecho quickly rolled out of the ring and grabbed his NBW World Heavyweight Championship title.  Derecho laughed as the desperation sunk in so much that he resorted to a cheap tactic to retain his title here tonight.  Derecho staggered around ringside with a shit-eating grin on his face.  Derecho made his way up the entrance ramp as the bloodied Warren Spade was being tended to by Chuck Radford.  Another referee came down and circled around ringside to check on Fenton Woods.

Derecho, pleased with himself, backpeddled up the ramp and stood at the top of the stage, hoisting the NBW World Heavyweight Championship high into the air.  That was the closing picture as PRIDE went off the air.

 

 

CREDITS

Welcome to Pride - Gorman
BLITZ Championship: Ravage Versus Brock Newbludd(c) - Gorman
The Players Versus The LAW - Keegan
It Will Happen - Dusty
Keystone Top Contenders Semi-Finals: Max Hopper Versus The Great Wall - Ernie
The Entertainers Versus The Rich Family - Keegan
The Birds and the Bees - Keegan
Keystone Top Contenders Semi-Finals: Matt Meyhu Versus Richie Keal - Brenden
Xiang Versus Spark - Seth
Earlier on the Pre-Show - Dusty
Davey La Rue Versus Al Envy - Alan
Injury Update - Gorman
Strongberns Versus HMMS Versus FTW - Dusty
KEYSTONE Championship: Ali Amore(c) Versus Freddie Rich - Keegan
Speaking of... - Dusty
Eruption - Seth
Jake Tockwell Versus E.Z. Blaze - Markus
When you want something done right - Markus
DYNASTY TAG TEAM Championship: A-List Versus The Unstoppables(c) - Keegan
A Few Words - Markus
Main Event - Dusty
NBW WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT Championship: Warren Spade Versus Derecho(c) - Josh