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SLAM! Episode 102
Live from in the Festhalle Frankfurt - Frankfurt, Germany

 

Intro

 

 

A War for the Ages

In-Ring

“Welcome to Slam 102! I’m Melissa Vanderart and with me as always, is C.G. Gains ready to give you his brand of surly commentary.”

“Yeah!” Gains said. “Tonight, we’re kicking off the show in the ring with nbW General Manager Jack Harmen about to let Jake Tockwell lay out his ALL-STAR team for Gods Vs. Titans! Brock and his team aren’t gonna know what hit ‘em!”

“I don’t know about that,” Melissa interjected. “Our nbW World Heavyweight Champion was brimming with confidence over his team on Victory. What we DO know is that later tonight, Brock Newbludd and Davey La Rue - official Team Coach of Team Newbludd - will be teaming up against two men that laid out Brock two weeks ago after his defense of the title, that being The Xiang Dynasty’s Xiang and Ai Tso!”

“They’re gonna get scrubbed! They’ve got The Great Wall on their side! They can’t lose!”

“That remains to be seen, but right now, we’ve got Jack Harmen and Richie Keal in the ring. Surrounding the ringside area are almost TWO DOZEN security for this occasion. Each men will be bringing out their team but we’re being told if things break down tonight then we’ve got these me for protection. Without further adieu, let’s go right to it as Jack Hamen welcomes us to Slam 102!”

And in the ring, Harmen is seated in front of a table with two pairs of contracts - each the official roster of who have been selected for Team Newbludd and Team Tockwell respectively.

“Guten tag, Frankfurt!” Harmen said to the rowdy crowd of Frankfurt, Germany occupying the Festhalle Frankfurt. “I hope that you’re all having a great evening. Now… who wants to see the line-up for the FOURTEEN men ready to lay waste to one another at Gods Versus Titans?!”

RRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Harmen nodded.

“All right, Richie, who’s first?”

Richie looked at his pamphlet.

“Well… “ Richie said. “Team Tockwell wanted to go first, so… Team Tockwell! Come on out!”

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

“All right, morons! Save the best for first!”

Out first was the mouthpiece for The In Crowd and for the former nbW World Champion Jake Tockwell. Out first was “Hot Sauce” Raul Ramirez.

“Hello, idiots, I’m Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrraul Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrramirez!!!!”

The louder the rolling went on, the more the crowd jeered the mouthy Latino star who spoke perfect English, but rolled his R’s because he was a jerk.

“Allow me to introduce to you the first couple of No Brand Wrestling! The voluptuous, the scorching hot leading lady “Sweet Fire” Sally Reynolds and her beau and team captain of Team Big Talk! This … is … BIG … TALK … JAKE … TOCKWELL!!!”

The Eagle’s hit single “Life In The Fast Lane” played out the man himself. The Captain of Team Big Talk, wearing a very sharp golden-colored business suit - and his boas! Next to him was his lovely lady, wearing a matching colored sleeveless form-fitting cocktail dress! The two strutted to the ring quickly with Hot Sauce just steps ahead of them. They walked through the sea of security near ringside and Raul Ramirez climbed the ring apron to pull the ropes down for Tockwell and Reynolds. Big Talk and Sweet Fire entered the ring with Reynolds making sure to stop very slowly so Big Talk could get a big look at her big … dress.

Harmen looked almost offended by the overly flashy attire of both the team captain and his leading lady. Big Talk shared a long, hot and heavy kiss almost leaning her over on the table.

“Okay, break it up, it’s a PG show, for shit’s sake!” said Harmen with the biggest bit of irony.

The two stopped and took their side of the table to wait for the captain of Team Newbludd to come on out.

"Top Shelf" by Underground Fight Club

But it wasn’t the captain who came out, it was the coach. It was ’Fat Tuesday’ Davey LaRue!

The crowd cheered wildly for their cult hero as he made his way through the double sliding doors and out onto the stage. Taking his role of being head coach seriously, the ragin’ cajun made sure that he looked the part. Obviously paying homage to some of the greatest coaches in the history of sports, Davey was dressed from head to toe in iconic ‘coaching gear’.

Open


Taking a cue from one of American football’s greatest coaches, Davey wore a grey Stetson fedora on top of his head, the same style of hat that Tom Landry wore on the sidelines for every single Dallas Cowboys game he coached over the span of nearly thirty years.

The fedora gave Davey an air of professionalism, one trait that every great coach had to possess. Another common trait that they shared was toughness, and arguably the toughest of them all was Chicago Bears coach, Mike Ditka.

To channel his inner Ditka, LaRue had to become Ditka, literally. Which he did by wearing a pair of Ray Ban aviator sunglasses and shaving his beard so that all that was left was a thick moustache that practically engulfed his entire upper lip!

That’s right, Davey LaRue had actually shaved.

Continuing his tribute, LaRue wore a grey hooded sweatshirt that had it sleeves cut, a trademark of New England Patriots coach Bill Belichick. To further affirm his role, “COACH” was hand written across the chest of the sweatshirt in black marker.

To complete his ensemble Davey ditched his crusty sweat pants and even crustier tennis shoes for a pair of pleated khaki pants and brown dress shoes.

Chomping on a piece of gum, the transformed LaRue raised a fist to the crowd before producing a microphone from his back pocket.

“Cut de music!” he said with as much authority as he could muster, and his music promptly stopped playing.

“My name is Davey LaRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRue!”

Cutting away from Davey, the camera focused in on Raul who didn’t seem as pleased as the crowd was at LaRue’s mocking of his trademark rolling ‘R’.

“And at dis’ time, I’d like ta introduce da captain of da team dat I will be coachin’ ta victory over’ dat golden turd ya’ll see standin’ in de ring right now. Speakin’ of gold, he’s de man who has de only gold dat matters!”

In the ring, Tockwell’s face grew red in anger from LaRue calling him a ‘golden turd’ to go along with mentioning the world title belt that he felt belonged to him.

“Please give a warm Frankfurt welcome to de NBW World Heavyweight Champion…’De Innovator’ Brock Newbludd!”

’Mouth for War’ by Pantera

The reaction from the sold out Festhalle Frankfurt was warm to say the least as they exploded in cheers as Brock Newbludd made his way onto the stage. Joining Davey’s side, the world champion raised the title belt up with one arm to soak in the cheers for a moment before lowering it and heading down the ramp with LaRue.

Slapping hands with fans as they went, Brock and Davey stopped briefly to survey the ring and their enemies inside of it before climbing up the ring apron to enter the ring at the same time.

Making their way to the opposite end of the table from The In Crowd, Brock and Davey looked confident as they stared across at Tockwell and company.

Opposite ends of the table, and opposite ends of the spectrum as well. Clad in a pair of jeans and a sleeveless t-shirt, Brock looked like a guy who you would find sitting on a barstool drinking cheap beer at a local bar. Tockwell on the other hand, in his golden suit with a beautiful woman hanging from his arm, looked every bit the superstar he thought that he was.

But, the roar that came from the crowd when Brock raised the world title belt up to taunt Big Talk hammered home the fact that the clothes don’t make the man, or in this case the star.

Once the music and the crowd reaction died down to allow the competitors to speak, Jake Tockwell and Brock Newbludd each had their microphones.

“All right, guys.” said Harmen. “The two of you have your rosters locked in, we’ve made sure there were no repeat calls by either side. “Big Talk” Jake Tockwell, you get to go first with announcing your list. And I just would like to remind you all that I have a lot of tonight’s budget taken out of pyro going straight to security. And while the fans and I like a good fight, if I see any fighting from either side during this roster announcement then I’ll start handing out fines and suspensions like candy. Capiche?”

Tockwell sauntered to his side of the ring first and smiled.

“Mr. Harmen trust me. I have no plans tonight about laying a hand on Brock Newbludd. I can be civil. Besides, the last time this JAG stood up to me, I dropped his ass with a piledriver so hard, he and his little “coach” here can barely remember what condition he was in. When I announce my roster, he’ll have plenty of time to shit himself before we fight at Gods Versus Titans and I get rid of him once and for all!”

“Funny … “ mused Brock. “Big Talk might be right … Davey … can you remind me what happened two weeks ago? You know before he piledrove me?”

“Oh dats right, mon ami! You beat him to keep your NBW World title!”

With a loud cheer, the crowd laughed along with Brock and Davey but Big Talk was already done talking about the past. Raul Ramirez shoved his way in between Brock and Big Talk.

“Nobody’s gonna remember anything about last week because they’ll be talking about the night when our ALL-STAR TEAM … Team Big Talk … wipes the floor with whatever idiots you convinced to march to career suicide.”

“That’s right, Hot Sauce!” yelled Big Talk. “And despite me being The One Among Zeroes, I did manage to find the best of the best of the best of the best in NBW that have taken umbrage wiht the fact that they don’t like you Brock. They don’t like what you represent as champion and they don’t like you tarnishing my belt! So let’s get this over with and introduce the members of Team Big Talk!”

“We’re proud of our first one … “ said Raul Ramirez. Hot Sauce gestured to the stage before he pointed at himself.

“ME!!! HOT SAUCE RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAUL RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAMIREZ!!!”

Brock couldn’t help but do anything other than laugh … laugh a lot even! The crowd was somewhat vexed by the announcement since Raul Ramirez hadn’t wrestled before … at least in NBW anyway.

“C’mon Tockwell, you serious!?” laughed Brock. “Who’s your next pick then, Sally!?”

“Dis fool right dere?” chuckled Davey.

The two continued their laugh at the expense of Raul Ramirez but he stopped that.

“You underestimate me sure because I haven’t been in the ring yet in NBW! I’ve spent the last year as a manager but I know you remember me, Davey! From ACW! Where I was somebody and you were nobody but a bottom-feeding curtain-jerking drunk … so the same as you are now.”

That biting comment stopped Davey from laughing any more.

“I’m cleared to wrestle again and before I helped Team Big Talk rise to glory, I was a very very successful ACW Tag team champion and the longest reign in the history of that title. I know what I’m doing and with my brains and Big Talk’s skills, the rest of Team Big Talk will march to glory!”

“Preach it, Hot Sauce!” shouted Big Talk. “But that’s just the tip of the iceberg for you zeroes! Let me introduce to you team members three and four of Team Big Talk … “

“Allow me!” said Hot Sauce. “They are the biggest baddest duo you’ve ever seen and they’ve taken out a lot of people for the right price …

STRAUSS AND BRADY - THE LAW!!!

Big Talk’s finger went to the stage and The Dead Kennedy’s hit “Police Truck” played, which should be no surprise to the jeering crowd when The Law made their way out sans the flashy entrance. Brock rolled his eyes at what had to be a somewhat predictable but still a very dangerous pair of picks as the two men marched right to the ring. Davey stood next to Brock in case the two tried anything to him, knowing they had attacked him before.

“Come on guys!” shouted Hot Sauce.

Brady and Strauss joined Team Big Talk’s side of the ring and took their corner.

“All right who’s next, Hot Sauce?” yelled Big Talk.

“I’m glad you asked, Big Talk?” replied Ramirez. “Introducing next is a guy that would be a FIRST ROUND DRAFT PICK … you know, if this was a draft. He is another hungry young man who has been going to war with those Clan Strongbern thieves walking around with our stolen property and future NBW Dynasty tag team champions! Please welcome …

”THE FIRST” FREDDIE RICH!!!

As was customary, “The First” Freddie Rich came out alone without any music but only to the sounds of lots of jeering from the fans! Draped in his signature black leather jacket and towel, the leader of the Rich Family sauntered right into the ring past Newbludd and LaRue and then shook hands with Big Talk and Hot Sauce. He walked to Sally Reynolds and kissed the hand of Sweet Fire before taking his side among the already impressive group.

“That makes … oh, five people! You scared yet, Brock?” asked Tockwell.

“Just make the rest of your picks, loud-ass,” snapped Brock.

Tockwell turned and faced Hot Sauce. “You heard the man, Hot Sauce! Tell him who number six is!”

“I can do that!” yelled Hot Sauce. “Unfortunately this man can’t be here tonight due to prior commitments but after making a deal through his manager and a lot of money changing hands … the In Crowd has puh-lenty by the way … we have a former NBW Infamy and Blitzkrieg champion but a man that holds victories over multiple world champions and hall of famers alike! Direct your attention to the Epicenter!”

The crowd, Brock and Davey did just that and the name appeared … one Brock knew very well earlier this year …

”THE BOUNTY HUNTER” BENJAMIN JONES!!!

The crowd was amazed by the pick! The Bounty Hunter posed for the camera with the many bodies he had taken out in the past. Names like Spike Saunders, “Superstar” Vince Jacobs, and NBW Hall of Famer Travis “Judasbleek” Martinez among them!

Brock had defeated him the last time they tangled but didn’t forget the very bloody fights they had in the lead-up to that colossal match of the night at Scorched II earlier this year. The final pick was Tockwell’s.

“And to make seven … we’re saving the best for last, kids! He is NBW’s BIGGEST BADDEST AND MEANEST man going today! The man that succeeded in collecting Jake Tockwell’s Bounty and the man who did business so nice we had to do business twice! The man that took out the biggest JAG of them all, Warren Spade, on Slam 100! Spell it out, Hot Sauce!”

Hot Sauce nodded and his finger went up to the stage.

”THE GREAT WALL!!!”

As if the booing was not loud enough for the previous picks they were louder now when “The Chinese Colossus” made his way onto the entrance stage, standing at over seven feet tall and weighing in at 365 pounds! “Born In China” by the Immortals blared epically as he made his entrance.

Without Xiang or Ai Tso tonight since this was for the War Games picks The Great Wall stormed his way to ringside and stopped at the ropes to climb into the ring. He pushed the ropes down and with ease walked into the ring. 2017 had belonged to the Great Wall on sheer dominance alone and tonight he was the biggest and baddest weapon in the Team Big Talk arsenal for War Games at Gods v. Titans!

“All right, Brock! Bring out whatever JAGs to their death march!” said Big Talk. “There’s no way you found anybody let alone seven people that want to mess with us!”

Eyeing up the team Tockwell had put together (minus Jones, but Brock knew the Bounty Hunter and how dangerous he was better than anyone), the world champion then did a quick huddle up with LaRue which ended with them laughing and sharing a high five.

Which caused Tockwell and everyone standing behind him to become curious to what the two had just discussed.

“Hey! Quit wasting team Big Talk’s time and show us the six other JAG’s were going to destroy!” Tockwell barked at the two.

“Sorry Jake, me and Davey were just wondering how you managed to convince those men standing behind you to join up,” Brock said with a smirk, and then handed the mic to LaRue.

“But den, I pointed out ta Brock dat Sally’s lips...well Sally’s lips look awfully chapped...and don’t tink ol’ Davey didn’t see how every one of dose boy’s ya got standin’ behind ya gave dat lil’ hussie a quick wink when de got in da ring…”

Newbludd then grabbed the mic and looked at The Great Wall.

“Congratulations on becoming a man, Mr. Wall...I’m only going to assume you’re the reason why my-ex girlfriend there walked bow-legged down to the ring…”

The Wall didn’t really know how to react to Brock’s words, but Sally sure did, and she lunged across the table to get at Newbludd. Luckily, Tockwell was able to grab her and hold her back, though with a little bit of reluctance.

“Alright, alright!” Harmen interjected as he shook his head. “Get on with it, Brock, we don’t have all day!”

Still grinning at the furious Sally, the world champion nodded his head in acknowledgement of the GM’s orders before turning slightly towards the stage.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” he said in a mock ring announcer voice. “Introducing the starting line-up of YOUR WarGames team, that will lay waste to the seven shitbags standing right behind me!”

Newbludd than tossed the mic to Davey, and smiled at The Great Wall again as LaRue spoke into the mic.

“Introducing first is a big, angry, gator who also jus’ happens ta be a former NBW World Heavyweight champion! He’s without a doubt, one of de most destructive forces to eva step inta dis squared circle, and he was da first man ta VOLUNTEER ta join our team. Big Talk might feel safe hidin’ behind dat Great Wall of his, but dat Wall will be nuttin’ but a pile of rubble after dis man runs through it…”

From the expressions on their faces, The Great Wall and Tockwell didn’t seem too worried about LaRue’s words. There were VERY few men who could stand toe to toe with The Great Wall...but there was one monster who could.

“And it would only be right ta let him come out here first, since he was de first man ta join up...he is ‘De Monsta’ of da Mid-South’...WARREN SPADE!

“Into The Arena" by Michael Schenker Group

The crowd ERUPTED as the grinding guitar riff blasted through the arena’s speakers and the man himself walked out onto the stage, with his manager Fenton Woods following closely behind!

Inside the ring, everyone on Tockwell’s team looked at each other in surprise. Everyone besides Jake, Raul, and The Great Wall. They more than likely knew that Spade would be participating in this match, considering how Jake stole the world title from him and The Wall has been his nemesis of late.

Thundering down the ramp, Spade climbed up the ring apron and stepped over the top rope with ease to stand next to Newbludd, who greeted the big man with a firm handshake. A handshake that was very reminiscent of the one they shared months ago when they both thought that they would be battling each other over the world championship.

Woods followed closely behind, walking up the ring steps to enter the ring and shake hands with LaRue. Brock’s coach and Warren’s manager shared a few words with each other before looking at the two and shaking hands once again, no doubt excited about the pairing.

Folding his arms, Spade locked eyes with the Great Wall and tension was quickly building in the ring.

“Oh great, you picked the JAG that I took the world title from!” Big Talk yelled. “Ready to lose to Big Talk again big man!?”

Spade simply took one step forward, and instantly the security surrounding the ring jumped up onto the ring apron. Not wanting things escalate, at least not until he had more men on his side in the ring, Brock continued on.

“Hang on there big guy!” Brock said, putting a hand on Spade’s shoulder. “You’ll get your chance at WarGames!”

Spade settled a bit, and took a step back, much to the relief of security and Harmen.

“Besides, we can’t have all the fun to ourselves!” Newbludd said. “Especially since our next teammate wants to wreck these fools just as bad as you or I do! I promised him that he would get his chance inside of that cage come Gods vs. Titans, and unlike that douche standing across from us, I AM a man of my word...especially when I make promises to a LEGEND…”

With that, Brock turned to the stage and pointed to it, causing Spade to turn his attention to it as well.

“Introducing the second man who will be on our squad...introducing the BIGGEST man who will be on our squad…”

The Monster of the Midsouth raised an eyebrow at Brock’s last statement.

“…he is the man, the myth, the LEGEND...he is ‘THE COLOSSUS’ SPIKE SAUNDERS!”

’SPIKE It Up!” by Kiss

Once again, the crowd burst into cheers! First Warren Spade and now Spike Saunders! Two of the biggest men to ever grace ANY ring would be joining forces!

Coming out onto the stage to a loud ovation, Spike made his way down to the ring and entered it in the same manner that Spade just had. Standing next to Spade, the Colossus bumped fists with him and shook the grinning world champion’s hand.

On the other side of the ring, Brady and Strauss glared at Saunders, who returned the look in kind. It was clear that The Law would be gunning for the man who they have had to fight off on Tockwell’s behalf on multiple occasions recently once they got inside the WarGames cage. If the eager look that now held Saunders eyes was any indication, Spike looked forward to it.

“Big Talk’s impressed Brock!” Tockwell said as he eyed up Saunders. “You literally found a bigger JAG than Warren to join your team! But, there’s no way those two giant idiots are going to make it through to the end of the match! WarGames is a marathon, not a sprint, Newbludd!”

Jake then grabbed Sally from behind and seductively bent her over the table.

“And everybody knows that Big Talk can go...ALL...NIGHT...LONG!”

“From what I’ve heard Jake, my ex-girlfriend there knows how long every man on your team can last!” Brock snapped back and once again Tockwell had to hold an angry Sally back.

“But, you’re right Jake! This team does need a little diversity.” Newbludd said. “They’re bringing the power, and I’m bringing the speed...but there’s just something missing…”

Newbludd tapped the mic on his chin and scratched his head as he thought, then his eyes lit up.

“I know what it is! Psychotic! WarGames is going to be a clusterfuck of insanity, and who better to bring along for the ride than the one man who lives, breathes, eats, and shits crazy! But, he’s not just certifiably insane, Jake, he’s also certifiably dangerous...and he will do whatever it takes to win. Warren, Spike, and The Great Wall might be the biggest monsters in town...but they aren’t the biggest MAN in town...no, that honor goes to my next pick...that honor goes to…”

“ME MOTHERFUCKER!”

Everybody’s heads snapped to the stage to see Big Rick Strongbern standing on the top of the stage in his full general’s attire! The strangest thing about it was that, he wasn’t holding a mic. It was just the Biggest Man in Town using his legendary voice to snap everyone to attention.

“NOW HIT MY DAMN MUSIC!”

"Kill It (Strongbern Death Mix)" by Fight

Stomping his way down to the ring, the leader of Clan Strongbern, and one quarter of the tag team champions received a tremendous ovation! Not to be shown up by Spade or Saunders, Big Rick climbed up the ring apron and entered the ring just like they did, just maybe a little more awkwardly.

Still stomp walking, Big Rick walked in front of each of his teammates to look them in the eye.

Or rather, to look up at them in the eye.

Sizing up each one, Big Rick then stomped over to Tockwell’s team and walked with his hands behind his back much like a general would do to his troops as he eyed up the men he would be facing in WarGames.

Letting out a snort of disgust when his eyes fell upon Freddie Rich, Big Rick then turned to his teammates.

“YOU THREE PLOW THE DAMN ROAD TO FREDDIE FUCKBOY OVER THERE, AND I’LL DO THE REST, GOT IT?!” Strongbern proclaimed, causing Brock to tilt his head in confusion.

Spade, Saunders, and Newbludd all looked at each other for a brief second, before nodding their heads in agreement.

“Deal, Rick!” Brock said, shaking Strongbern’s hand. “Now go join your fellow giants behind me.”

“MAKE ROOM!” Strongbern ordered Spade and Saunders as he wedged in between them to stand at each man’s elbow.

Tockwell rolled his eyes at Strongbern, and waved his hand at Brock to keep going, probably choosing not to cock off at Newbludd’s choice of Big Rick because he didn’t want to get into a war of words...or screams...with Strongbern.

Seizing on the opportunity to not have to listen to his nemesis, Brock raised the mic up.

“And for my next pick, I had the same idea you did, Big Talk, I needed a man who made his living fighting in cages, just like the guy you ‘bought’ Benjamin Jones does. The guy who I made tap like a bitch before I took that world title from you…” he said a grin.

“But, I didn’t need to go out and ‘buy’ myself a fighter. No, I had a fighter come to me and volunteer his services for WarGames. But, this just isn’t any normal fighter...this man is a former TFZ Champion...this man is a NBW Hall of Famer...this man is The Son of Malta!

“Maltese National Anthem”

With his country’s music blaring over the speakers, Son of Malta received a warm ovation from the German crowd. Slapping hands as he made his way down the ramp, SoM looked to be in tremendous shape and the prospects of him having to face off with fellow submission expert Benjamin Jones in a match that could only be one by one team surrendering were tantalizing to say the least.

Sliding underneath the bottom rope and popping up to his feet, SoM shook hands with the man he had formed a recent alliance with, Spike Saunders, before doing the same with the world champion.

“Hahaha!” Tockwell burst out in laughter. “You really think this ‘has been’ is going to stand a chance against Benjamin Jones!? Get real, Newbludd!”

Before SoM could speak, Newbludd interjected.

“Who says he’s gunning for Jones!?” the champion asked, putting a hand on SoM’s chest to stop him.

“You see Malta here, he likes inflicting pain...he likes breaking men’s wills and making them submit to his power…and if I was him, I’d be gunning for that bum shoulder of yours. You know, the one that I broke down during our rematch? How is that arm by the way?”

Jake glared at Brock, and Son of Malta flashed Big Talk a menacing smile.

“I guess we’ll have to find out come WarGames…” Newbludd said with a grin, eyeing up Jake’s shoulder.

“Which is also when... you’ll find out my last two teammates!”

The crowd roared in surprise at Newbludd’s announcement, and Tockwell slammed a hand on the table.

“What!?” Big Talk screamed. “You can’t do that! Right, Harmen!?”

Thinking for a moment, Harmen then shrugged his shoulders.

“You know what?” the GM said, still thinking. “I think he CAN! The only thing I like just as much as unadulterated violence is surprises! Well...it’s not really a surprise to me, since I know who they are...it will be a surprise to YOU, and more importantly it will be a surprise to the fans!”

The crowd cheered at Jack’s decision, but Tockwell wasn’t having it and neither was his team. As it stood now, Team Newbludd was outnumbered and if Team Tockwell was going to play the numbers game, the time would be now.

Feeling the tension rise, Jack looked to diffuse it slightly.

“But, I didn’t say that Brock can’t give everyone here a little hint of who his partners are, right?” the GM asked looking to Newbludd, who shrugged his shoulders in agreement.

“Fine, I’ll throw ya a bone, Big Talk.” the champion said. “This is ALL I’ll tell you about my last two partners…”

“Your man Raul there, he knows BOTH of them...from ACW…”

Jake looked at Raul, who had his ears perked up now, waiting to here more from Newbludd.

“One was a ‘King of Ages’ and the other was a Gateway Champion…”

The whole building was silent, as Brock continued on with his hints.

“One saved that company from closing...which is saying something. I would say it’s just as impressive as the NINETEEN world titles the other has held…”

Nineteen world titles was quite the statement, and if true, at least one of these men was a cagey veteran to say the least. Pun intended.

“But, the biggest hint of them all….” Brock said, as he raised a finger up to point at Harmen. “...is that one of them has beaten the legendary High Flyer...aka Jack Harmen...clean in the middle of the ring!”

“Hey, now,” Harmen said to Brock. “...but there you have it blood-thirsty fans! These are your line-ups for the Gods Versus Titans match!”

RRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

The two sides began exchanging words with one another, but Harmen had a bright idea or two.

“Okay, okay, okay, you teams are still on the clock out here, but since some of you want fights, here’s what I’m going to do. Brock, you deserve a chance for payback after what happened to you at the end of last week’s show, so you and Coach La Rue over there? The two of you are going to be in a tag team match tonight against two of the men that attacked you! Brock Newbludd and Davey La Rue against Xiang and Ai Tso of The Xiang Dynasty!”

They were backstage, but Brock eyed The Great Wall who shot him a dirty look in return.

“Oh, and I’m not done with you, big man. The main event tonight? That’s going to be a FUN one! You’ve been making life hell for Warren Spade over here and I think I’d like to see two giants rip each other to shreds. Frankfurt, would YOU guys like to see two giants rip each other to shreds?”

RRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

“Pretty sure that’s German for “Yes!” So tonight, we’re having a Lumberjack match featuring most of the competitors of the War Games match! Brock, you, Davey, Spike Saunders, Son of Malta, and Big Rick Strongbern will be ringside! Tockwell, you, Hot Sauce, The Law and Freddie Rich will be ringside as well. And in the center of the ring… we have The Great Wall and you will take on… “THE MONSTER OF THE MID-SOUTH” WARREN SPADE!”

Spade and The Great Wall inched together nose to nose! The two men had traded wins in the last months since Legacy and were looking forward to settling the score with one another tonight! The group of men all inched toward one another and Harmen decided to make things a wrap as the show went to commercial, but not before the men locked eyes.

Gods Versus Titans was shaping up to be a complete WAR.

And no doubt it was going to be a war for the ages.

 

GODS VERSUS TITANS II

Gods Versus Titans II

COMING TO PPV AND THENBW.COM FEBURARY 2018

 

 

On Me Own

In-Ring

The show returned from a commercial break and now standing in the middle of the ring was none other than a man who hadn’t been seen since his short-lived partnership with Ravage went up in a fit of rage.  It was the young, cocky twenty-one-year old “Mr. Manx” Charlie Birkin, along with his fiancé, the American beauty Ali Carr. The first-ever nbW wrestler to hail from The Isle of Man looked very impatient and stroked his mustache as his music played.

“HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII, GGGGGGGUUUUUUYYYYYYYYYSSSSS!” Ali said in her cloyingly bubbly way.

“Faster” by Within Temptation cut out quickly when Charlie Birkin grabbed a microphone. 

“Nah, mates… you all saw what went down with that old wanker, Ravage… let it be known that HE was the one that got pinned in twelve seconds by Jax Curry, not me!” Birkin shouted. “So I’m here to tell you that as the year is about to close, I’m going to worry about two people… that’s Ali and me.”

“Awww!” Ali said.

The two shared a kiss that was responded in kind with sickening groans from the crowd.

“You wankers WISH you could have a girl that looks like this! But I’m here for one thing and one thing only and that’s a fight! I’m raring to go! I’m in the best shape of my life and I can rip the arm off anybody back there! If somebody back there wants a fight, here’s your chance! Which wanker back there is gonna step up to Mr. Manx, The Best That’s In?”

Birkin threw down the microphone and waited for somebody to take up his challenge while Ali leaned on his shoulder.

Who was it going to be?

The crowd got their answer quickly.

“Voodoo Child” by Brick + Mortar.

And… ohhhhhhhhh, boy, did Birkin’s face change.

It was the Blitzkrieg Champion Ohiyama!

…Only he didn’t have his title for the moment because “The Big Kid” Chris Smith had attacked him viciously on Slam 100 and took the title itself. And despite all of Birkin’s bluster, he may not have wanted any part of Ohiyama as he approached the ring, itching to fight himself. Referee Slim J ran out from the back because we were apparently going to have a match. That match would start…

RIGHT NOW!

Ohiyama
Versus
Charlie Birkin

Both competitors were now in the ring and with Birkin’s open challenge being accepted, referee Slim J called for the bell.

DING DING DING!

The 278-pound hard-hitting Hawaiian known as Ohiyama stood across from “Mr. Manx” Charlie Birkin now and the young technician still wasn’t sure what to make of the current Blitzkrieg Champion – without his belt – in front of him.

“Mate, if you want to go away for a second, we can forget this whole…”

THWACK!

It looked like he was NOT going to forget and it looked like he had a lot of frustration to take out on somebody and sadly, it looked like young Charlie was going to be that person! The STIFF Knife-Edge Chop from Ohiyama completely leveled the young Manx and he tried to get back to his feet in the corner.

Big mistake by Birkin.

THWACK!

Another assimilating Knife-Edge Chop caught Birkin on the chest and now he was doubled over in pain with Ali Carr not very sure about the well-being of her young fiancé.

“Come on, hon, hit him!” Ali shouted.

Well, no shit, Sherlock.

Ohiyama waited for Birkin to try and stand again, but when he was a little slow, The Polynesian Powerhouse nudged him upwards on the chin with his hand before…

THWACK!

Yet another one of his meaty Knife-Edge Chops caught Birkin on his hairy chest and now, he was wincing in pain as he hit the ropes. Ohiyama then grabbed his arms behind him and pulled him outward…

Headbutt to the shoulder blades!

Headbutt!

Headbutt!

Three big shots between the shoulder blades made Birkin scream out in pain and things went from bad to worse when he picked him up …

MAUNA KEA THROW!

The massive Belly to Back thrown into a forward Facebuster splattered Birkin on the mat in a hard way! After he hit the move, Ohiyama used his boot to kick Birkin over onto his back and then dropped an elbow into his chest for a quick cover!

ONE!

TWO!

NO!

It was almost three right off the bat, but The Best That’s In as he liked to be called surprised Ohiyama with the early kickout!

“Shouldda kept your mouth closed, bruddah,” Ohiyama told the young gun.

He picked up Birkin and then whipped him across the ring quickly. Ohiyama then raised a fist in the air and pointed at the corner, clear with intent to crush him with some sort of Corner Clothesline…

“Hey, Big Oh!”

Ali jumped on the ring apron and tried to distract Ohiyama by slowly sliding one of the dress straps off her shoulder. Ohiyama wasn’t falling for that and charged at Birkin anyway, but didn’t expect…

DROPKICK TO THE KNEE!

Birkin went low and Dropkicked the leg out from under the big man, sending him careening right into the corner! It was only about three seconds or so that The Polynesian Powerhouse had an eye on Ali Carr, but precious seconds nonetheless.

Ohiyama was disoriented in the corner and had his head against the ropes when Charlie Birkin ran in and kicked the rope into his eye! The strong cable caught Ohiyama and send him stumbling to allow Birkin the chance to get to the middle rope. The 220-pound Birkin took flight and cracked Ohiyama on the jaw with a Diving European Uppercut, finally knocking him off his feet for the first time in the contest!

Birkin with the cover now!

ONE!

TWO… NO!

Ohiyama shoved him off, but Birkin remained on the attack. When The Polynesian Powerhouse was back on his feet, Birkin grabbed his arm and then connected with a Double Knee Armbreaker to the left arm! Ohiyama winced in pain now after having the move done… no doubt Birkin was setting up for his finisher, Oops, Got Your Arm!

He locked in a standing version of a Keylock and kept the hold locked in tightly!

“You got him now, baby! Break his arm!” Ali shouted.

“You got it, love!” Birkin shouted.

He cranked back on the arm some more and while Ohiyama was on only one knee, the arm was hurt enough for Birkin to take advantage if he wasn’t careful. Slim J asked Ohiyama if he wanted to quit…

“Ohiyama, do you give?” he asked.

“NO!”

The crowd cheered when Ohiyama started to fight back with his free arm, landing a hard Elbow Smash to the face of Birkin! The first blow didn’t make him break the hold, but Ohiyama gutted it out and fired a second Elbow Smash, sending him all the way back in the corner!

After Ohiyama took a second to shake the pain out from his arm, Ohiyama pointed at the corner again….

This time, CONNECTED with the Corner Back Elbow! 

He grabbed Birkin’s arm and pulled him out of the corner…

THWACK!

Another Knife-Edge Chop caught him in the chest!

The blow knocked him down, but he pulled him back up again with a Short-Arm…

THWACK!

A second Knife-Edge Chop put him down, but he still wasn’t done as he pulled Birkin back up again…

THWACK!

Ali winced and covered her eyes while her fiancé was being manhandled by big Ohiyama. The Big Oh now grabbed Birkin by the waist and CHUCKED him over with a big Release German Suplex, sending him shooting across the ring! He limped around the corner and held his back in pain now with Ohiyama about ready to end things…

The knee was prepped….

“BIG KID” CHRIS SMITH WAS HERE!

The large thief that had stolen the Blitzkrieg Championship from Ohiyama on Slam 100 was on the ring apron! Ohiyama saw red and went after him…

NO!

Smith backed away from the ring apron before Ohiyama’s boot could connect with his face. Ohiyama wanted to fight but he suddenly felt his knee give out underneath him due to Birkin coming back and planting a Thrust Kick to the knee. He turned around…

HAMMERLOCK DDT!

Could that be all? Could Birkin pull off a huge upset thanks to Chris Smith?

ONE!

TWO!

SHOULDER UP!

Birkin couldn’t believe it, nor could The Big Kid himself! He had the Blitzkrieg Title over his shoulder still and watched Birkin try to wrestle his arm to the ground to lock in…

OOPS, GOT YOUR… NO!

Ohiyama stood up again and turned Birkin around, spinning him into…

KING KONG SMASH!

The blow caught Birkin right between the eyes now and Chris Smith watched as Ohiyama growled. He pointed at Birkin and Ali closed her eyes again…

WAVEBREAKER!

One STIFF Running Knee Strike to the chest of Birkin laid him out! And on that note, Ohiyama covered Birkin while shooting a look right at the man who perpetrated the theft of his championship belt.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

Give Birkin credit – the young kid tried and with more experience, he could certainly achieve great things. But tonight was not the night to pick a fight with Ohiyama.

“HERE IS YOUR WINNER OF THE MATCH… OHIYAMA!

Ohiyama motioned for a microphone almost quickly and “Big Kid” Chris Smith watched The Polynesian Powerhouse lean over the ropes and storm over to him. Behind him, Ali Carr helped her nearly unconscious fiancé out of the ring.

“Smith.” Ohiyama said coldly. “Bruddah… you made a BIG damn mistake attacking me when my back was turned on Slam 100… you also made a mistake not finishing me off and thinking you’d be free and clear to take MY Blitzkrieg Title.”

Ohiyama leaned closer to the ropes.

“If you wanted a title shot, all you had to do was put on your Big MAN pants, come down to the ring and fight me like a man. Now… if you still want that shot, bring that belt back into the ring and we’ll do this right now!”

The crowd wanted to see that! The undefeated Chris Smith against the man who hadn’t lost a match in singles competition since returning last year. Smith stormed over to the timekeeper’s table and shoved Brent Williams over, getting jeers from the crowd as he took the microphone from him.

“Ohiyama… do you want to know why I took this championship from you? It’s because you don’t deserve it! You’ve got people cheering you, but a man that wants to hurt people… fight them… beat up innocent people like dear Charlie Birkin over there? That’s called a BULLY!”

The crowd jeered the childish logic of a man that had attacked other people for minor offenses.

“That’s why I attacked you on Slam 100, Ohiyama… because you needed a taste of your own medicine! If you want to fight me, then I would like to do this properly. In a ring one on one at Gods Versus Titans! I will wrestle the title from you and I’m going to do it… for the kids!”

The Polynesian Powerhouse shook his head.

“If you want to do it this way, you giant hypocrite? I accept your challenge!”

And now the crowd cheered! The two big men now had a date for Gods Versus Titans as Ohiyama leaned closer to the ropes.

“Smith, I hope that you feel safe with that unearned title over your shoulder. Go ahead and keep it until the Pay-Per-View, bruddah, because after I’m done with you, you’ll find out the hard way that’s the ONLY way you’ll EVER be getting a title PERIOD.”

“Voodoo Child” played as Ohiyama raised a fist in the air for all to see. Chris Smith smirked at Ohiyama and headed back up the ramp with the stolen Blitzkrieg Title in tow. Ohiyama made a promise to take the championship back from Chris Smith and if his current mood was any indicator, “The Big Kid” Chris Smith would have a fight on his hands come Gods Versus Titans!

 

A Visit to the Bossman

Harmen's Office

Jonny Bedlam was walking down the hallway backstage in the arena.   Bedlam walked somewhat gingerly, with a clear hitch anytime his midsection stretched significantly, but with determination in his demeanor and eyes.  Some bandages were visible occasionally when he walked underneath his t-shirt.   He had some bruising around his nose. 
Jonny continued down the hallway until he reached a door that seemed to draw his interest.   The door read “General Manager: Jack Harmen” with the NBW logo next to it.  Jonny hesitated for a moment as he pushed his right hand outward and turned the handle.  It seemed to tweak his side injury.

Through the door, NBW General Manager Jack Harmen could be seen seated at his desk speaking to a production assistant who was holding a tablet.  Harmen was nodding, and looked up as the door opened.  “Hold on just a second, get back to me in a few, I need to talk to Jonny.”

“Ok Boss,” said the assistant, who then moved past Bedlam and exited.  The assistant moved to the wall opposite the door and leaned, working crazily at the tablet as well as texting on a smartphone.

“Hey Jonny,” Harmen said as he crossed his arms over his chest.  “What brings you here?  I thought you weren’t medically cleared to wrestle.  In fact, I know it.  I asked the NBW doc to update me if there were ANY changes.  So again, what brings you here?  And asking me for a match tonight better not be the answer to that question.”

“Bossman, I don’t ask you for a lot.  But c’mon man.  I’ll sign a full waiver.  I’ll call a lawyer to ‘advise’ me and make sure that the waiver is legit-“

“Stop right there.”  Harmen’s eyes looked very serious.

“But….”

“No Jonny.  You are not wrestling tonight.  You are not special refereeing tonight.  You’re not walking into that arena as a competitor.  If you want, we can give you a standby ticket.  But you cannot wrestle.  You have a cracked rib, and three others bruised to hell.  I’ve seen the Xrays and the MRI Jonny.  I been in this business a while, that is a no-fly injury.  The way you like to go out there especially dictates that.   It’s not about lawsuits.  You’re a big merchandise seller.  Your popularity is growing a great deal.  And I enjoy your work myself.  From both a business and personal standpoint, it is absolutely idiotic to let you do anything but stay out of action tonight.”

Jonny tried to mount a counterargument, but it seemed he’d lost a lot of wind and bluster.  “I guess that leaves out ring crew then too?”

“You’re damn right it does.  If you wanna hang out and bullshit with the guys, that’s fine.”

Jonny saw a plush chair in front of Harmen’s desk, he moved himself gingerly down into it, wincing slightly.  Jonny exhaled and looked down at the ground.

Harmen turned slightly on his desk to face Jonny.  “Kid, you’ve done very well.  You’ve earned a week off.  I’m a Hall of Famer here in NBW.  I’ve been where you are and a thousand times worse.  The beating you took from that guy was crazy outta line, out of the ordinary and you need to time to recover from it.  The sonofabitch is even suspended.  He nearly broke a ref’s jaw in the ring with a sock full of ball bearings.  Frankly, I’m surprised you hobbled in here.  I’d think you’d be laid up with a cute bird sucklin’ ya back to health somewhere in a nice Texas hotel room.  I mean, hell, even a German bird at little inn around here.  I mean, you’re in freakin’ Bavaria and not a biergarten on a night off?  What’s wrong with you, kid?”

Jonny stared at Jack Harmen.  He tried not to, but he chuckled and then winced as it hurt his ribs.  “I dunno boss, I feel right when I’m here.  I can’t tell ya what it is.  When I’m not in an arena, I feel like I’m one of the uncool kids at a cool party a lot of the time.”

Harmen stared at Jonny incredulously.  “Ohh shit, don’t tell me they gave you a bad ass concussion too.  Crap you could be on the shelf for a month.”

Jonny looked at Harmen, quizzically.  “What do you mean?”

Harmen picked up a few papers and began to leaf through them absent-mindedly.  “Kid, you’re in your 20s.  You’re a famous pro wrestler.  You clearly ain’t the dimmest bulb in the box, and you know how to freakin party.  Don’t turn into an addict.  That’s just stupid.  Be wrestling’s illicit lover, not her creepy stalker.”

Jonny nodded.  “All right boss, is there anything I can do to make a little money and help the brand?”

Harmen nodded, then put his hand to his chin, thinking.  “Ya know, I might have me an ideer!”

 

Remember What Vince Lombardi Said...

Backstage

The camera now found itself in the locker room where sitting on a bench was one of the members of Clan Strongbern, that being Little Ricky Strongbern.

The one-inch-shy-of-seven-feet-tall member of the Clan and one-fourth of nbW’s Dynasty Tag Team Champions volunteered to fight against a member of The Rich Family after the latter group cut off their scheduled promo time and issued the challenge. Now he was sitting on the bench with his game face on with Rik, Ri-Khan and Big Rick getting him motivated.

“DON’T YOU DARE FUCK THIS UP, LITTLE RICKY!” Big Rick shouted. “OUR NAME IS AT STAKE! AND SINCE I’M GONNA BE HELPING TO CARRY TEAM NEWBLUDD TO VICTORY AT GODS VERSUS TITANS, I’M GONNA NEED THE REST OF YOU TO HOLD DOWN THE FORT AND FIGHT OFF THE ENTIRE GODDAMN UNIVERSE OF PEOPLE WANTING THOSE DYNASTY TAG TITLES!”

“I know, Rick,” Little Ricky said.

“BIG RICK, YOU DICK!”

Rik Bonebreaker-Strongbern snickered behind him while Ri-Khan howled with laughter himself. No, really. It was a combo of equal parts laughter and howling. It was weird. The look on Little Ricky’s face said it all.

“Look, I’ve got a big boot with Todd Rich’s face on it and when I get a chance, I’m going to boot his head into the next town over. Sound good?”

“GOOD! THE RICH FAMILY HAVE ATTACKED US, THEY’VE CUT INTO OUR AIR TIME… THEY’RE TRYING TO MAKE US LOOK BAD!”

“Like that’s hard to do, you little sawed-off asshole.”

“WHO THE FUCK SAID THAT?!”

The camera panned back to the door where their next opponents for the Dynasty Tag Team Titles were present. It was the team made up of two former nbW World Heavyweight Champions, Ravage and Vic Gravender, that won the Big Rick Strongbern Big F’Ing Cup to earn their title shot on Victory 8 in a few days time. The team that called themselves Savage Badassery marched in proud.

“We just wanted to size up our opponents,” Ravage said. “And to be perfectly honest? We’re not impressed. I’ve beaten you before, Big Rick… or have you forgotten?”

“Yeah, you won’t be champions for long,” Vic added. “and it don’t matter which of you two choads we fight. We’re in the habit of shitting on people’s dreams lately. We stopped Matt Haddon and Jax Curry from rising above the mid-card line they belong and soon, we’ll be taking them Dynasty straps from you just because we can.”

Little Ricky stood up from his seat, ready to fight with Rik right behind him, but Big Rick raised his hand to call off the proverbial dogs. Big Rick looked Ravage right in the eye (they were both 5’9” so that was easy for him for once) and grinned.

“OH, PLEASE, RAVAGE… YOU’RE THE GHOST OF NBW PAST AS FAR AS I’M CONCERNED. YOU’VE BEEN LOSING TO ROOKIES AND BITCHING ABOUT WHAT SHOULD BE YOURS INSTEAD OF JUST GOING OUT AND TAKING IT LIKE WE DID!”

Ravage shook his head and flapped a hand while Big Rick turned to Vic Gravender.

“AND YOU… WE BEAT THE UNSTOPPABLES TWICE AND LAST TIME YOU AND I FOUGHT IN A RING, I. BEAT. YOU.”

Vic growled.

“Yeah, you and your entire gaggle of giant fuck-puppets beat me,” Vic scowled. “But I got a better tag team partner now… one that knows what it’s like to be underappreciated and screwed over around here like I have. The fans love you idiots so much, but let’s see how much they like you after we make you look like the bitches you are.”

“You’re dancing with one of The Rich Family,” Ravage said, “but don’t forget that on Victory, WE’RE the real threat to those titles.”

Ravage and Vic walked away with the last word, smirking before they walked off. Little Ricky raised his eyebrow.

“Wow… “ he said aloud. “I’m shocked you didn’t just sic us on them.”

“IT’S FUNNER TO KICK THEIR ASSES IN THE RING!” Big Rick said. “WHICH REMINDS ME… REMEMBER WHAT VINCE LOMBARDI SAID, LITTLE RICKY… IF YOU FAIL TONIGHT, I’M CHANGING YOUR NAME TO LITTLE BITCH STRONGBERN!”

Little Ricky sighed. “We’re doing that again?”

“Heh. My idea,” Rik said.

Little Ricky sighed again. “Why are you such an asshole?”

“Because it’s funny.”

 

PAID ADVERT BREAK PLACEMENT HERE

 

TODD RICH
Versus
'LITTLE' RICKY STRONGBERN

Todd Rich was already in the ring – though not alone.  Flanked by Freddie, Declan and Donny they were going over the game plan.

The lights flash in rapid-fire random series of white as "Let's Kill These Motherfuckers" by Lair of the Minotaur's opening riffs begin to play.

Smoke billows out from either side of the entrance ramp as Ricky Strongbern walks out, huffing out a puff of smoke he probably just inhaled.  Ricky stomps towards the ring with a camera looking up at him in that exaggerated style WWE does for its giants. It was his turn to take centres-stage this evening as Bonebreaker and Ri-Khan brought up the rear. 

Ricky steps up the ropes, walks to the ring apron and steps on the ropes one at a time before he climbs over the ropes and heads inside.  He lets out a loud roar for the crowd as the music fades out.

Todd Rich and Little Ricky Strongbern consulted their respective corners before meeting in the middle, oooh the middle, of the ring.

Uncharacteristically, Todd slapped Little Ricky and then looked at The Rich Family for some sort of approval.  They applauded while the Clan screamed at Little Ricky to respond...
Chokebomb!

Rich scurried back towards his corner with Strongbern in pursuit.  An extended boot by Todd slowed LR down momentarily.

Up on his feet, Todd tried to swivel Strongbern into the corner.  Unfortunately, he couldn’t budge the big man at all...

Lariat by Little Ricky!

LR lifted Todd and placed him in the corner, wailing away with three, four, five big shots...

Until Freddie reached in and touched Ricky ever so slightly on the leg.  As Freddie turned away, a long, looping left hook came through the ropes.  Freddie was flat on his back as the crowd cheered, the Clan clapped and the other Riches bitched.

Todd hoped to equalise for his elder cousin as the ex-Tremoid turned around...


His right hand had NO effect.

Little Ricky backed Rich into the corner with a quartet of Repeated Corner Knee Strikes.  Graciously, LR let Todd out of the corner...

THE LITTLE BIG BOOT!!!

That’s why!  Todd rolled out of the ring upon impact or was it due to a shout from the corner?  Did he have any idea where he was?

Clan Strongbern headed over towards The Rich Family to ensure Todd didn’t enjoy an extended spell on the sidelines. 

When Todd rolled back in...

Left hook!

Rather than let Todd capsize, Little Ricky planted Rich with a Body Slam and surprisingly headed upstairs, camped in the
Clan’s half of the battlefield.

Middle Rope Leg---missed!

Instantly, Todd exploited the ex-Tremoid’s weakened state...Figure Four Leglock.

1...
2...

LR reached up and broke the count and hold by touching the top rope.  Todd patiently waited for Little Ricky to get up...

Leg Lariat!

1...

1 and a half only.

As Ricky was getting up, Todd took the near 7-footer down with a technically-proficient Belly-to-Back Suplex, which warranted another 1.5 count.

The Clan man was fighting to get back to his feet...High Knee by the Rich Family’s second in command.

Another Suplex attempt...

Reversed by Ricky.

1...
2...
3...
4...
5...

Despite bearing the brunt in recent moments, Little Ricky stood first and scraped Todd up...

Inside Cradle...

1...

2...

Barely 2.

Little Big Boot again...Todd ducked this time.

Textbook Hangman’s Neckbreaker.

Buoyed by his momentum and family support, Todd bounced off the ropes and nailed the Clansman with a Knee Drop, which recorded a straight 2.

Strangely, Todd tossed Little Ricky out and distracted the referee while The Rich Family were poised to strike; Clan Strongbern were straight over there and TRF backed off, not actually touching LR.

Meanwhile, the ex-Tremoid rolled back inside with Freddie squaring up to fellow captain Big Rick on the outside.  The referee struggled to separate them as words were exchanged.
WHACK!!!

Little Ricky went down like a sack of potatoes from an ordinary right hand.  However, upon closer inspection, Todd had pasted the Clan’s biggest man with a set of brass knuckles protecting his fist.

Surely not this way...

1...

2...


3!!!

Todd swiftly stuffed the set back in his tights as it dawned on both teams what had transpired.  Firstly, The Rich Family re-entered, celebrating and hugging Todd, though not for long...

Once Big Rick gave the command to ‘get these fuckers’ The Rich Family were offski, ready to fight another day and with a useful W in the win column.  Would this have any psychological bearing on the impending showdown between the two tight-knit units?

 

Commerce in Frankfurt

Backstage

Jonny was standing behind a desk covered in NBW T-shirts and various other merchandise.  Directly in front of him was a cash register and a credit card reader, and several fans.  Other NBW vendors stood beside Jonny, assisting in operating the merchandise station. 

“That’ll be €18.24 ma’am,” Jonny said to the customer right in front of him.  A German speaker stood beside him to translate, but the woman seemed to understand and handed Jonny some notes.  He looked at the person next to him, who then nodded and made change for the lady. 

“Sorry, I haven’t really gotten down my currencies yet.  This is my first job with much international work.”

The vendor smiled and nodded, as they had quite a line to work through.  “You wanna just stand to the side bud?  It seems like every third person wants to take a pic or get an autograph.  Why don’t you just grab the merchandise they want and do that?”

Jonny nodded, a little frightened at the abruptness.  “Sure thing.”

Jonny moved back from the register and began to grab t-shirts and wrestling buddies and various other goods from the racks and hand them to customers as ordered. 

A group of early 20s German males and females moved to the front of the line and went agog as they realized the man in the NBW cap and polo was Jonny Bedlam.

“It’s de BEDLAM!” they all seemed to shout in unison. 

Jonny waved at them and said “Easy kids, that Russian’s beating is still giving me a headache.  Yes, it’s me.  How are ya?”

“You are crazy man!  We love you!” said one of the guys. 

Jonny moved to the side of the register.  “Well, I’m glad of one of those things.  I’m shocked how many of you kids speak English so well!”

“Ohh they make us learn it in school.”

“Damn.  You’d think it was just some lazy writer who didn’t bother to learn his 3 years of German class well enough to write some dialogue from it just not making an effort.”

Everyone in the scene turned and looked at the ‘point of view’ for a moment disapprovingly with a raised eyebrow, then resumed their comings-and-goings.

“So why are you guys at a wrestling event instead of out drinking and partying?  I hear Frankfurt is a jumpin’ town.  I mean, not to go against my meal ticket here.  Think of that as an NBW customer survey question.”

“Ohh, well we party every other day, I guess.  Haha.  Not every night is NBW night.  Plus we party after,” said one of the ladies.

“After?  How late are clubs open?”

The young folk looked puzzled at his question.  “What does this mean?  How long are they open?”

“I mean, ya know, I figured you had go to the wrestling show or go to the club.  Ya know, in most of the states, they have to close at 2.”

“Ohh.  Haha!  You still have the Puritan laws, we forget.”

“Well, yeah let’s call em that.”

“No they can be open until whenever they decide not to be.”

“Wow.  Sounds great.  Well enjoy yourselves…”

“HERR BEDLAM!” the girl stopped Jonny from moving towards the stock.  Jonny turned around quickly.

“Yes?”

“Can we get some pictures with you and uhh…”  she trailed off sheepishly.
“And…uhh…what?”  Jonny smiled back.

“You are famous for your drinking and celebration, would you drink with us in the picture?” 

One of the vendors stared in wonder at Bedlam, who had a surprised look on his face.  “The drinking age is 18 here JB, it’s probably ok.”

“Well, hot damn, sure.  Why not.”

One of the fellas plucked a bottle of whiskey from a hiding place and another young lady produced several red cups.  Another produced a bottle of coke.  Drinks were mixed. 

When all had cups, somebody was given the camera and took a picture as Jonny and the young folks all raised their chalices. 

Jonny looked at his assembled fandom and nodded.  “Here’s to the king….here’s to the king…FUCK-king!”

They all knocked back their cups, then slammed them down onto the merch table, all the while being photographed by the kind passerby.

 

Oh! To be so Smooth

Backstage

“I’m just hearing about something backstage,” Vanderart relayed, with a growing expression of dismay. “We’ve got the video of it? Okay, our camera’s happened to have caught a brawl that happened minutes ago just outside of catering.”

“Were they left with just salads when the Great Wall stopped by again?” Gains asked, half jokingly.

“Alright, let’s take you back there now,” the confident professional sent our feed backstage.

The first obvious sign is the superimposed stamp telling us this happened minutes ago. As colours are given definition, we see the crimson clad mammoth that goes by the calling of Rune. He lumbers slowly across the screen to the right, nothing out of the ordinary -- well, for as far as a guy dressed head to toe in pleather and latex can be. But soon the shuffle comes to a stop.

“Ha,” comes from beneath the mask.

Our camera pans back to see Taylor Smith and Peter Pham, two thirds of the Handsome Man Modelling School and opponents for Rune and his partner/security client, Zed tonight. For their parts, they seem happy, nearly giddy to have run into the monster-sized man.

“Say here, Taylor,” the Photogenic One started, “it looks like we’ve found possibly the most revolting, disgusting… fat… waste of a roster space.”

“I pity the personal trainer that has to work with that,” the Tantalizing One motioned indignantly toward the ever increasingly impatient Rune.

“More like plastic surgeon, am I right?” Pham followed the more likely option.

“Oh, God,” Smith stopped to catch himself from ‘puking a little in his mouth,’ “Lypo? Do you think they’d fill one oil barrel, or two?”

The duo chuckled as they made Rune the butt of their jokes. But, as these things tend to go, they had their glee cut short when Rune reached out to grab both by the throat.

“Funny?” came deep and unsettling.

“Sure is, fat ass,” Smith defiantly continued. And we’d soon figure out why he spoke so freely.

From stage left ran the third of this trio, The Beaut, Benny Reyes and he chopped down Rune with the cutblock to the back of the knee. Immediately, the hold on Pham and Smith went lax.

Peter Pham shook loose his shoulders and took aim. As Rune was turning to look at just what in the Hell took him to a knee, Pham launched in with a Superkick that caught him flush at the ear/temple. That shot forced Rune to drop to the other knee and use a hand behind him to stop from toppling over.

The joyous chorus of comic book villain laughter kicked up from the dastardly Handsome Scholars.

“My turn!” shouted Smith as he picked up a light run and bowled into Rune with a Double Knee Strike right to the mush. Both men tumbled to the ground, with Taylor Smith popping back up to look at his work.

“Look out,” warned Reyes from off-screen. The clack of wheels over cracks in the concrete came louder and faster until The Beaut slammed a production crate into Rune’s knee and pinned it against the wall.

The audio here was censored, Rune clearly in pain.

“Phase one’s a success, boys,” Reyes beamed a smile to his compatriots.

“We’re not quite done here just yet,” proclaimed Smith. He extended an open palm to Pham and instructed, “moisturize me.”

Pulling out a small jar of La Mer moisturizing cream, Pham unspun the top, dug in a finger and transferred a healthy portion of the ‘ground-up baby foreskins’ to Smith, who was kneeling next to the downed Rune. Smith rubbed his hands together once, maybe twice, he only wanted to spread the stuff around his hands.

“I’ll be seeing ya,” was the wittiest one liner he could think of at the time before he dug his fingers into the face of Rune, gouging at the eyes.

The immediate sensation of discomfort had Rune bucking.

“I’ll be seeing ya?” ribbed Reyes as Smith stood back up.

“Like you could have thought of anything better.”

“Gents let save ourselves for a little later tonight, huh? We still need to make Zed pay for trying to disfigure this perfection,” Pham pointed at his face.

The trio turned and began to wander away from the scene as medical staff and referees came to the aid of Rune. We left the previously recorded video to go back ringside.

“I am not going to try to claim to be the biggest fan of the Crimson Tide, but I cannot condone maiming anyone like that,” Vanderart qualified her concern.

“I’ll agree with you, Melissa. I am disappointed with the Handsome Man Modelling School,” C.G. Gains somewhat stunned his broadcast partner. “They should have said something like, ‘I now dub thee You Less Sees S. Grant.’”

“Please,” Vanderart pleaded for professionalism.

“What? You got a better one?” Gains sidestepped any of that nonsense.

 

My Name is Cheese, for We Are Many

Harmen's Office

The nbW General Manager, Jack Harmen, sat in his office watching the evening's show unfold on his television screen.  Suddenly, he is watching himself watching himself on the television screen, and that version is watching himself watch himself too. On it went, Ad infinitum, like a pair of parallel mirrors each reflecting their own reflections into one another for all of time. 

Jack held the remote control for the television in his hand, tapping it thoughtfully on his chin, his other hand resting palm down on the desk in front of him, occasionally rapping his fingers against the wood.

Last week, someone had broken into his office, caused all of his electronics to malfunction simultaneously, told him they knew what he did and then left a bag of Nacho Cheese Doritos on his desk. They were delicious, but nonetheless everything preceding the bag of chips was unnerving. 

The television clicked over to a rotating nbW logo, the production team spotting the flaw in the repeating versions of Jack on the set. 

Unfortunately, a few seconds later and the television clicked itself off. As did the lights.  As did, in fact, every piece of electrical equipment that emitted light in the entire Ahoy Arena.

A power cut in Slough, England, also occurred at exactly that moment. In the end it turned out that somebody had just been stealing copper from a local electricity mains and that the two events were entirely unrelated.

“i want you to know”  the voice said over Jack’s shoulder, “that i haven’t forgotten about you, jack. that i never will forget about you. the annals of time will pass and memories of loved ones will fade. The reminiscence of bygone times will grow dim. life will come and life will go. but i will never fade, i will never die, and i will never forget.”

“Who are you?” hissed Jack into the darkness, swivelling his head from side to side but seeing nothing.

“you know who i am jack. i am here, i am there, i am everywhere. i am everywhere and nowhere, i am nobody and everybody. you are i, they are i, i am doritos man.”

A shiver ran up the spine of nbW’s General Manager at the mere utterance of the name, a cold sweat slicked across his forehead like an oil spill across a duck's back.

He opened his mouth.

He shut it again.

He opened it once more just as the lights and television clicked back to life leaving Jack looking around an empty office.

He looked down at his desk.  There was nothing there but the television remote he had been holding.  He looked around, checking that nobody was watching. Then he checked his desk drawer.  Still nothing.

He was starving.

 

Too Close to The Sun

Interview set

Adria Hoyt was standing by with The Players...

And The Entertainers!

Seeing the two teams caused a significant cheer amongst the crowd as our host started:  “The Players and The Entertainers, you’ve already had 3 matches.  Firstly, The Entertainers won the Ladder match and then last week, The Players won their two singles matches, making the score two-one.  How do you see things going tonight?”

Unsurprisingly, Alfie started:  “Let’s ‘ave it right:  Me and Dazza were worn out from keepin’ Ashley and Chelsea company the night before, so that’s what affected our performance, particularly Dazza, ‘oo was ‘kin dreadful and stunk the place out for days after, you know what I mean.”

Darren snatched the microphone from his Transatlantic brother:  “We don’t need to go on about that.  Kid, you were good, but Paul, you’re gonna get the backlash...”

Paul sized Darren up:  “Is that right?  What’s her excuse?”

Alfie ruffled his own feathers:  “I sincerely ‘ope you’re not referring to me, mate.  I’ll Superkick your teef down your froat ‘ere and now, ya mug...”

Darren bragged about his surname:  “Don’t start with us, Paul.  We’re the best...”

In fact, Paul was about to go for both of The Entertainers when Kid removed his sunglasses, a gesture that made everyone go quiet:  “The best?  The best is beating Sway the Spider-God in a Tijuana Scaffold Match.  The best is defending the World Title thirteen times in one night.  The best is winning a Last Man Standing match with two broken legs...Trust me Little Icarus:  You’re flying too close to the sun.”

 

I'm not Dead

EpiCenter

Their words were suddenly cut off as a loud burst of feedback suddenly echoed from the speakers, causing everyone in the arena to wince! The lights seemed to be going haywire, flickering on and off as that horrible noise sounded from the mic.

Then they shut off completely. Leaving the arena in darkness.

Static appeared on the tron.

An image coming into view.

Noises could be heard from the speakers now as the image of a dark path in a forest was shown; the noises were ones of panicked cries for help and shouts for order. The screams of sirens and people alike.

Images of carnage began to flash rapidly across the screen, always cutting back to that darkened path, broken bodies, EMTS, horrified fans, people lying in a pool of their own blood.

A figure was seen on the path now, only their stringy haired silhouette visible in the dim moonlight.

More images flashed upon the screen now.

A superkick crushes Paul Sanders’ skull against the ring post.

The figure was getting closer now, as words appeared on the screen.

I’M

Max Hopper screams in agony as he holds his broken leg.

NOT

Johnny Bedlam’s skull is driven into concrete with a DDT.

DEAD.

The screen faded to darkness as the sound of a distant wind was heard from the speakers. A flashlight panned across the screen. Slowly illuminating the shimmering gold of the Keystone title.

Finally, as darkness returned once more, three numbers appeared on the screen before everything faded to black.

103

Darkness remained for a few seconds, then with a flicker and another burst of static, the lights, sounds and display all returned to normal.

 

PAID ADVERT BREAK PLACEMENT HERE

 

DARREN BEST
Versus
PAUL SANDERS

At Slam 100, The Entertainers clinched a narrow Ladder match win over The Players, courtesy of Chris Smith’s interference.  As a result, the quarter have been pitted each other in a best of 7 series with the London barnburner giving The Entertainers a 1-nil advantage.

Slam 101 was a totally different tale:  Kid Chameleon dismantled Darren Best in mere minutes and Paul Sanders got the better of Alfie Button, turning it into a 2-1 lead for The Players.

Paul Sanders still walked out to ‘Sexy Boy’ by Air, minus the cheerleaders and that had been the case ever since his horrible hiding at the hands of ‘The East Wind’ Alex Reyn on the Keystone champion’s debut.

Sanders cut a more serious, intense figure post-injury and quietly waited for his opposite number to arrive.
Running out, Darren was also not in a Carol Smilie mood, presumably because of the one-sided ass-beating doled out by Paul’s partner a fortnight ago.

There was no messing about here.  Both men were in the ring.  Best HAD TO level for The Entertainers because a win for Paul would put The Players on the brink of deciding the series, possibly even here tonight.

Like last week, Darren Best aimed to start out with a Collar-and-Elbow.  Unlike Kid, Paul indulged him because he knew he could get the better of Best, as he had done Alfie, and right enough, he did by shoving Darren across the ring and into the right-sided ropes.

Best extended his hand and Paul bit, leading to an Arm Wringer that stung Sanders.  The International Playboy grimaced, though that didn’t mean he was completely out of the equation, throwing a left hand...only for it to draw a blank as Best wrenched on the right arm even further.

Eventually, Sanders forced Best into the left set of ropes and shrugged the annoying Armbar off, scoring with a Shoulderblock when Darren rebounded back into Paul’s path.

Darren dropped down, Paul went left and ran over Best, who avoided contact with a Leapfrog.  What he couldn’t get out of the way with his forward trajectory was a superb Snap Powerslam by Sanders.

1..

Barely 2.

Elbow Dr---Armdrag!

Paul had missed with the elbow and was now on the receiving end of not one but two technically-proficient Armdrags.  A smarting Sanders nodded at Best’s reflexes during the exchange.  Back to the drawing board.

Another Collar-and-Elbow was verbally agreed to and this time it was Sanders who got the Armdrag off, prompting another nod – this time from Best.

A further Tie-Up saw Sanders shove Best into the bottom right corner of the ring.  Both combatants respectfully observed the official’s count.  Paul then telegrammed a sprint, which Best side-stepped.

Two rights by Best...

Sanders wasn’t going to stand for that and swivelled Darren round, switching places, but his wild right was predictable.

Best mounted Sanders, but couldn’t fire a single shot as Paul pushed him south.  Undeterred, Darren returned for more, only to eat a Reverse Elbow.

Paul pressed home the advantage by Hiptossing Best into the corner feet-first, eerily similar to the landing opponents experience when receiving Best of Both.

Sanders didn’t mess about, picking Darren up and dumping him onto the top rope. 

Paul climbed, seemingly seeking an Avalanche Suplex of sorts, which Kid had bestowed on Best at Slam 101.

Maybe with that in mind, a desperate Darren delivered a blow but a retaliatory right kept Best in check...


SUPERPLEX!!!

1...
2...
3...

That’s it!


No, just kidding.

4...

5...

6...

Sanders stirred and draped an arm across the nearby Best.

1...

2...


Shoulder up!!!

Sanders picked Darren up, who again went to a go behind, just as he had against Kid a fortnight ago...


Backdrop Driver!!!


Unfortunately, the New Yorker couldn’t capitalise on the Portland native’s plight and another double down ensued.

1...

2...

3...

4...

5...

6...

Darren executed a cover...

1...

2...


Shoulder up!!!

Darren was seriously contemplating Best of Both.  Perhaps he dilly-dallied too long as Paul snuck out of there with a Backbody Drop.  Shaking dizziness off, it was TRAILBLAZER TIME...

MISSED!

The Rocker Dropper put Paul on his back and an OUTStanding Moonsault kept him there – temporarily or permanently?

1...

2...



NO!

Best changed Larry Tact a bit with a Belly-to-Back Backbreaker, but it was only a slight diversion as it paved the way for a Gourdbuster!

Time to have another crack at this...

1...

2...

Same outcome!

Darren, however, sensed Paul was there for the taking.  He lifted Sanders up and took the air out of Paul’s lungs with a fabulous Fireman’s Carry Gutbuster.

Rolling Neck Snap!

1...

2...

NO!

On this occasion, Best didn’t get frustrated nor wait for Sanders to stand.  He did that for him with one goal in mind...

BEST OF BOTH!!!

The Wrist Clutch Exploder splattered Sanders over the turnbuckles as Paul’s body went limp.  Darren didn’t even drag him to the middle of the ring to ensure victory.

1...

2...


3!!!

That levelled the series!  It hadn’t been easy, but Best breathed a sigh of relief and afforded himself a wry smile as the official raised his arm high in triumph.

It wasn’t GAME OVER after all...

It was GAME ON.

 

Crowd Control

Backstage

The merchandise table appeared once again.  Jonny had a much larger crowd near him now.  He was socializing with his fans.  One of the vendors was acting as a sort of moderator in the discussion. 

“So, Mr. Bedlam…do you ever miss wrestling in FightOne?” one fan with a “Hopper is Out There” t-shirt asked.

“Part of me will never leave Boston.  But I mean, that place is long gone.  I’m all NBW now.  Luckily, that area is often on our itinerary.  I don’t miss it though, this is the best choice I’ve ever made.  Come whatever may, answering that phone call was the best thing I’ve done.  The No Brand Nutjobs are everything to me.  I mean, just talking to you guys, wow…it lifts me up.  Being in the ring and thrilling you, jeez…nothing like it.  Nothing burns me up inside like that. Even as beaten as I am, even with these busted up ribs…I am flying, even right now hearing the roar of those fans and I’m counting the seconds until I can feel my feet on those boards again.”

The fan nodded.  Many fans shouted in assent with Jonny’s sentiment.  Jonny raised his glass, which a fan had just filled once more.  It is clear, even though Jonny is still quite coherent, that this is not just his second drink.  The fans raised their drinks in unison. 

“In the parlour there were three
She, the parlour lamp and he
Two is company
Without a doubt
And so the parlour lamp went out!”

Jonny then tilted his drink back, and so did his fans.  Jonny then raised his empty glass and bellowed “YEAAAAAHHHH!”
The vendor/moderator pointed Jonny to another fan who wanted to take a selfie.  They leaned into the circle of fans and Jonny planted an arm around em and gave a signature wild grin as they took a photo. 

Some security guards had appeared at the scene, not to break up the event, but just to make sure things didn’t get out of hand.  One of em even snuck a swig out of a flask nearly out of view.  Security seemed to have grown quite accustomed to dealing with Mr. Bedlam. 

One of the guards tapped Jonny on the shoulder.  Jonny turned to the guard. 

“Jonny, I think we better start limiting the size and moving people out of here.  They’re starting to get in the way of the merch shop and people are starting to get a little drunk.”

“Yeah, I was thinking the same thing Carl.  What do you suggest?”

“Well, clearly you aren’t doing a whole lot of work at the table and you have the night off.  And you are pretty partial to tailgating.  And you’ve never done that in Germany.  Also, we have plenty of security to spare and the cops we hired for extra bodies are kinda bored.”

“I love the way you think Carl.  Also, thanks for saving my ass against the Russian last week.”

“That guy’s never sat well with me man.  Something in his eyes ain’t right.  He wouldn’t stop fighting even when we got him to the back.  Why’d he blow up at you like that?”

“I don’t know Carl, I don’t know.  One of the few times I felt like I was in real danger in that ring.  He took what I said so personal.  I dunno.  All right, well I think we will move this outside.  Thanks Carl.”

“I’ll get some sawhorses and barriers and stuff ready and get some guys down there.”

Jonny turns to the large assembled group of fans.  “ATTENTION!  ACHTUNG!  ET CETERA!  PEOPLE OF FRANKFURT!  BEDLAMITES!”

They all turn to Jonny’s voice.

“Guys, how would you like to be a part of the uniquely American ritual of the tailgate party?!?!?!”

The crowd cheers. 

“I realize the pickup truck is not as popular a thing in Germany so it won’t literally be a tailgate, but drinking in large groups certainly is!  All right guys, let’s make our way to the parking lot!”

 

Are You Doritos? Are You Doritos? Are You Doritos?

Backstage

Richie Keal was a man incensed. For two weeks now, a man appearing to identify as Doritos had been antagonising the boss, Jack Harmen.  Just earlier tonight he had somehow managed to pin Harmen to his chair but, oddly, he had managed to do it without ever actually touching the nbW General Manager.

Now Harmen wanted to find out the identity of this elusive Doritos Man and he had tasked his handy number two, Richie Keal, with the objective of finding and unmasking the bizarre intruder. 

Richie strode down the corridors of the Festhalle’s backstage area. The walls of the corridor he was currently walking down were a perfect white, smooth to the touch. The floor squeaked underfoot. Say what you want about Germans, but they sure can polish a floor.

A short, masked man was standing at the buffet table picking at the food and placing snack size slices of pizza into a pile on a paper plate.  Keal grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around.

“You,” Keal hissed, a finger pointed in the face of 'The Spanish Fly' Santiago Sabino, “Are you the one they call… Doritos?”

“Me?” Sabino gestured toward himself, his spare hand flat against his chest, “Oh, no, no. I am Spanish Fly, not Doritos.”

Keal gritted his teeth, then batted the paper plate way up into the air, sending the tiny pizza slices flying.  He continued down the corridor.

Another, taller man was sitting on top of a flight case filled with nbW technical equipment. He was as flamboyantly dressed as The Spanish Fly, but not in a Mexican way.

“You!” Keal pointed towards ‘The Entertainer’ Alfie Button. 

Alfie looked up. Keal was a good half a dozen steps too far away which made the whole thing a little bit awkward.  A few seconds later, he reached Alfie.

“Are you Doritos Man?”

“Nope.”

This went on for some time, and the point is that Keal didn’t get very far with this rigorous line of questioning.  Frustrated, Keal reached the end of the corridor where a pair of large fire doors were chained shut. Which was against fire regulations.  Keal shook the doors in frustration. 

“Who is The Doritos Man?” he thought to himself.

“i am not the one who is crunched,” a voice explained, “i am the one who crunches. do you understand me? i am the one who crunches.”

Keal looked around the corridor, being sure to check the top corner of the ceiling over and over.

“Who said that? Where are you?”

The lights flicked off. Then the lights flicked back on.

On the previously pristine wall next to Keal a warning was spray painted in Nacho Cheese orange.

‘i looked, and behold, an ashen horse; and he who sat on it had the name doritos’

“Dooooooriiiiiiitoooooooosssssss!” Keal exclaimed, fists clenched, staring into the sky.

 

Wicked, Twisted Spirit

Backstage

“No. Get out of my way.”

We cut to the backstage area with visual just a nick behind audio. That audio belonging to one Paragon of the Industry, all out of patience.

“He’s not going anywhere, not until he calms down enough for us to get a good look at him,” was the response of nBW’s head trainer, Jake Summers.

And maybe he’d hope that’d have sufficed.

Instead, Zed stepped well into Dr. Summer’s personal bubble to shove his chest out. “No, you don’t understand ME.”

What with his duties in the course of coming this travelling gladiator show, Dr. Summers was nonplussed - dealing with egos was his most frequent task.

Zed looked over our Trainer’s shoulder to look at his cohort laid up on a table, refusing to take his hands away from his eyes. Zed swallowed some of that anger, and took one step back.

“This was my chance to turn this Hell of year around, to cap it off right if nothing else had been. It was my headstart into a long winning streak into the two thousand and eighteenth year of our Lord.”

Watching enough of the program to know when Zed was about to go into self-pity ranting, Summers turned back to the background and the mammoth man non-cooperative on his table.

”If there is a God,” Zed started, “He must be a wicked and cruel Spirit. I was supposed to have ended this year bringing champagne to my lips as gold adorns my waist in some Chalet overlooking a this world. My world.”

One more glance to Rune, with the staff around him clearly not about to clear him to compete tonight. Even with some miracle, it’d be too late to join Zed for the match starting in two minutes.

“No, no, this is fine. I was the talent all the time. I can do this by myself,” Zed offered us, but maybe he was just trying to psych himself to believe it. Some great ball of disappointment, rage and self-pity Zed started his way toward gorilla.

 

PAID ADVERT BREAK PLACEMENT HERE

 

HMMS
Versus
CRIMSON TIDE

Frontline by Pillar shook from the PA system and this Frankfurt crowd gave the Paragon of the Industry a standing welcome. Booing, but standing.

“So, how many ladders do you think Zed walked beneath; how many mirrors did he break?” C.G. asked on commentary.

“I don’t follow,” Vanderart wasn’t willing to venture a guess.

“He found a penny on the sidewalks and didn’t pick it up. Hey,” Gains paused, looking for the right terminology. “What’s the opposite of having a horseshoe up your ass?” he didn’t.

Zed marched defiantly toward the ring, sharing only sneers with the Germans filling the Festhalle Frankfurt this night.

“So, Zed was what? Unlucky that the Handsome Man Modelling School decided to jump Rune backstage and try to seriously injure him?” Vanderart hopped aboard Gains’ train of thought.

“You can call him paranoid, conceited and arrogant, but, I think Zed might have something to those rants of his. I mean, this is only the most recent example of him being screwed over.”

“So if Zed is unlucky, what would that have made Rune tonight?”

“Who cares? Zed can do better without the fat.. guy,” Gains refrained from using alliteration.

Zed has made his way into the ring, over the ropes, and takes a moment to look out to the nBW faithful in attendance. Through with that nonsense, Zed zeroed his sights on the entrance way standing ready for the fight that was about to go down.

“So you like his chances tonight?” Melissa was curious.

As Frontline cut out it was replaced with the familiar Jason Derulo remix of Talk Pretty to Me.

“Not a chance.”

And Frankfurt was confused for a second as no Brand’s pretty, preppy trio strode onto stage - who do they boo lowder: the self righteous dick, or the trio of dick punchers? That decision played out along a certain line, with the lighter voices booing and the deeper ones ironically cheering. Damn smarks.

The boys walked together down the ramp, giggling as they looked out to see only Zed standing in the middle of the ring. ‘The Beaut’ Benny Reyes grabbed at his knee and feigned the same sort of injure he gave Rune earlier in the night. Likewise, ‘Tantalizing’ Taylor Smith then grabbed at his eyes and felt around some. For all the boys’ jests, Zed stood stoic in the ring, wanting a fight tonight.

“Three on one tonight,” Gains told you the odds.

“But, this was only ever going to be a tag match. At worst, this is a two on one handicap tag,” Vanderart got all technical.

“His nuts are as good as theirs…” Gains let with the sigh every male in history sighs when they think about anyone getting hit low.

The trio climbed to three sides of the ring, outflanking the Paragon. While they entered, they were met by Jerry Peterson, not having their shit and pointing them to their corner. Reluctantly they did, and then he told one of them to get out. A short game of shoot later, Peter Pham took to ringside.

“Probably for the best, Pete. You’re still wearing that concealer after last week at Victory,” Gains let loose the makeup habits of the HMMS.

“Looks like we are ready for this one. One last word from Peterson to each side and…”

Come heavy or don’t come at all
You leave your piece at home, that’s your call.
It never paid to be merciful.


“What in the?” Gains couldn’t find this anywhere on his runsheet.

The doors opened at the entrance way and smoke billowed forth.

“It can’t be, can it?” Vanderart added to the intrigue.

“Who cares who this jackass is? He’s ruining a moment here,” Gains shot straight through any.

A small section of the fans knew what was happening and were audibly loud, but the rest of the fans in attendance and at home watching could indeed be forgiven if they didn’t recognize the tune. He’d only been around for a spell at the beginning of the year, before being derailed with injury.

“Grey leather jacket, undercut and that grey and purple gear, that’s him!” Vanderart ran through the checklist.

And sure enough, having soaked up about as much time as he could just listening to his own theme music - hey, he’s been out a while - Mitchell Quinlan let the viewing public know how much he’d missed this all with the ear to ear smile. As he made his way toward the ring, he was certain to bump ‘knucks with every fan willing.

Getting close to the camera in front of him, he grabbed hold to point out, “Goosebumps. This is why I do this,” he spun it around to the crowd growing in buzz if not for him, than just to have someone to cheer in this heel vs. heel brouhaha.

“Okay, so some guy that couldn’t last here more than three months his first time around. What’s he even doing out here?” Gains let his disinterest show.

“I have to think both Zed and the HMMS boys would like an answer to that too.”

Climbing the ropes, he stopped at the top to tap his fist to heart, and caught up in the reaction, Quinlan bowed to the faithful. With a step, he gracefully plopped to the canvas and walked to the middle of the ring.

Taylor Smith and Benny Reyes were asking our ref just what in the exact Hell was going on before Zed stepped up to Quinlan, ready to strike.

“These two were in more than a few battles the last time Quinlan was here,” Vanderart expanded the history.

For his part, Quinlan smirked and tapped knuckles to Zed’s cocked fist. Slipping out of the jacket, Quinlan took his place in the corner while Zed tried to understand just what was going on. Or maybe more accurately why any of this was happening.

With Come Heavy finally cut, Peterson called for the bell for this tag match to start.

DING! DING! DING!

With a last minute prep talk, Reyes stepped out and gently slapped Smith on the cheek to get this started. Pity Zed wasn’t waiting around for them to decide when to start, as he rushed Smith and drove a knee into his back. Smith wandered along the ropes, but Zed followed closely and soon trapt him to unload with knee lifts before breaking with the referee’s count.

It wasn’t a clean break, however, as Zed tossed a jab, then pulled Smith in with a headlock and walked him to the center of the ring. With Zed’s forearm digging into his temple, Taylor Smith felt around looking for a release, before trying to rush both to the ropes. Zed lost his grip to brace for the thinly padded steel cable and quickly Smith tried to roll him up, but Zed held on.

Knowing he’d whiffed, Smith stood up in time to be knocked back on his ass by a shoulder tackle. Zed revelled in the early momentum, begging Smith to get back up and take what was coming to him. Smith did make it back to his feet and started to circle Zed, only to dive to tag Benny Reyes in when he got near his corner.

The largest of the trio, ‘the Beaut’ stepped in and laughed off the early deficit, Zed was in for a different type of fight now. Reyes held one hand up, and everyone knew it was the universal code for a test of strength.Not phased, Zed linked fingers and raised his left hand. Both men operating from much of the same playbook, they each tried a shortcut; Reyes’ knee kick coming in before Zed foot stomp. With the clenched hands, Reyes moved to Zed’s side to drape his own arm over his neck then drop down with a Neckbreaker.

Zed was dragged up by a front facelock, before ‘the Beaut’ opted for a series of slaps that pissed Zed off more than anything. After the fourth in the series, Zed popped upright and delivery a cross Uppercut/Open Palm Slap in the process. Reyes down to a knee, Zed was able to guide him to the ropes then toss him across the ring with the Irish Whip. On the rebound, Zed took Reyes down with a side headlock takedown.

Despite Zed trying to wrench head from shoulder, Reyes was quick to get back standing, but in the disorientation, headed to the wrong corner. Quinlan reached over Zed’s back and tagged himself in the contest. Planning to use all Peterson’s five count, Zed hit a Muay Thai knee lift that rocked Reyes prone in the corner. After an ultra short conference, Zed walked with Quinlan to the center of the ring, then Irish Whipped him back into the corner to meet Reyes with a Corner Dropkick.

Before Peterson needs to get hands on, Zed exits to the apron. Doesn’t mean he stops pestering Reyes stuck in his corner. Benny tries to slap away Zed, only for Zed to dodge just out of reach.

Back in the center of the ring was Quinlan, asking Reyes to keep his focus some and get with the fighting. ‘The Beaut’ obliges, and races in with a lariat attempt that Quinlan ducks. However, Reyes quickly turns around with a forearm shot to Quinlan’s jaw that creates some distance. Stepping in, Reyes is rocked by a Spinning Back Fist that turns him around. Quinlan is quick in behind with a waistlock and starts the lift for the German in Germany. Reyes goes deadweight and Quinlan has to try again to get him up. However, Reyes is quick enough to hook his leg behind Quinlan’s and trip him. With Quinlan flat on the mat, Reyes launched a Senton, but hit nothing but mat as Q moved. Reyes on his knees trying to get back vertical despite the acute pain in the lower back got driven face first to the mat with a Sliding Flatliner. Quinlan gets back up just long enough to deliver his own Senton, this one connecting with Reyes’ back. Using his forehead, Quinlan flips Benny and hooks the near leg.

1!

2!

And before the ref could think about swinging that arm to the mat a third time, Taylor Smith had entered the ring and dropped his leg across the back of Quinlan’s neck. The crowd turned from its cheering the sequence to booing Smith. Zed didn’t care much for it either.

Zed marched into the ring and shoved Smith back to his corner. Smith had enough room to get a jab on Zed, but Zed turned back with a European Uppercut. And a second. This succession is broken by Benny Reyes spinning Zed ‘round into a Forearm Shot. The subsequent right cross was ducked, the momentum spinning Reyes. A quick shove from Zed sent Reyes back to the center of the ring, and Quinlan waiting to uncoil a Bicycle Pump Knee Strike.

Knocked stupid, Reyes was only able to stand thanks to the ropes. Smith, too, had been beaten to the ropes by Zed. Nodding to each other, Zed and Quinlan dump the two thirds of HMMS over the top rope with Stereo Clotheslines. Before things could go much further, Peterson flashed his zebra stripes and forced Zed back to the corner.

On the floor, ‘Photogenic’ Peter Pham tried rallying the troops. What had started as a sure victory with numbers was turning into something… less than pretty. Victory could still be theirs, they just needed to work together, and avoid being jumped on by Quinlan who was posed at the ropes tapping his toe and clutching at the top rope. As he leapt, Pham safely ushered Smith and Reyes ten feet further down to safety.

Thing is, Quinlan had only leapt over the top rope and landed all too safely on the apron. The boys figure this out sadly at the same moment Quinlan had ran and leapt toward them with a Cannonball Senton. Cannonball? Maybe bowling ball would be more fit, as the boys were all knocked to the ground - a perfect strike.

Eager to get on with the action, Quinlan sorted between pretty boy to find Reyes and grab him up by the ears. Walking him back to the apron, Quinlan shoved him under the ropes. Before Quinlan could follow, Pham had grabbed an ankle. When he didn’t let go when Quinlan shook, Q pulled his leg in and then pushed hard enough to sent Pham back first to the railing. But Pham’s sacrifice wasn’t in vain, the distraction giving Reyes enough time to recover and meet Quinlan re-entering the ring over the middle rope with a knee to the side of the head.

With Quinlan still half in and half out, Reyes pulled him in just far enough to drape his legs over the second rope then hit a Facebuster. Quinlan was down and Reyes started with a series of Elbow Drops. It seemed each one came quicker than the last. On the last one, Reyes stayed on Quinlan with a cocky pin attempt.

1!

Kickout!

Barely worth Peterson dropping to count, Quinlan shook a shoulder up, plenty left in the tank.

Reyes kicked at Quinlan as he tried getting back up. A punt kick sailed past Quinlan’s head as he moved, hoping back to his feet. He spun Reyes quickly, but before he could attack, Benny pulled him over with a Snap Scoop Powerslam. Quinlan shot quickly up sitting, back arching. Reyes continued the dominance snapping tight a Chin Lock.

In a sight that may be a first in nBW, Zed cheerlead the crowd, stomping the near steps. As the crowd got louder, Quinlan started his ascent to vertical. He twisted to plant the point of his elbow into Reyes’ midsection and tried to get moving, only, Reyes had grabbed hold to the back of his tights. Pulling Quinlan back, ‘the Beaut’ tossed Quinlan with a Release German Suplex. But, Quinlan had rotated enough to land on his feet. The momentum carried him back to the ropes, where Zed tagged himself in blind.

Reyes popped back up and was irate to see Quinlan still on his feet. Rushing in, Quinlan dropped down and Reyes ran into a Rope-Assisted Enziguri Kick of Zed’s. Staggered, Reyes backed up just enough for Zed to launch himself into the ring with a Slingshot Shoulder Tackle.

Back up, Reyes was close behind, so Zed decided to help him back to his feet with a light, blatant chokehold. Peterson stepped up to perform his duty as lawkeeper, and from behind the ref, Reyes tossed out a jab. Pushing Peterson out of his way, Reyes continued with a forearm shot. Zed responded in kind. The two heavyweights traded shot for shot before Zed got the upperhand by using his head… to bash Reyes over the brow with a Headbutt. Near to the ropes, Zed rushed in and dug a Kitchen Sink Knee Lift into Reyes. In a feat of strength, Zed was able to lift ‘the Beaut’ over his shoulder with an Oklahoma Carry and then drop Reyes face first to the turnbuckle - Snake Eyes. Taking off to the opposite ropes, Zed hits the stunned Reyes with a Northern Lariat to knock him belly down to the mat.

Climbing up Zed’s legs trying to get back up, Reyes instead has his head locked between Zed’s thighs as Z bent over to synch the waistlock. Looking either Piledriver or Powerbomb, we’ll never quite know, as Reyes is able to overcome and dispatch of Zed with a Back Body Drop. Tired and possibly concussed, Reyes made the crawl to the corner and the outstretched hand of Taylor Smith. Zed came to in time to grab the heel of Reyes, but he was already within leaping distance. Tag is made.

Making quick with the switch, Taylor springboarded in and nailed Zed with a Crossbody. Fresh legs put to use, Taylor drives a stiff Soccer Kick to a seated Zed. Hooking his head under Zed’s arm, he lifts him up and hooks legs, Taylor looking Russian Leg Sweep. But Zed is alert enough to smack Smith in the stomach with his free hand to block, then take him over with a Arm Drag, but Smith used the momentum to take Zed down with an Arm Drag, too. Up, to the ropes and back, Smith delivers the Sliding Clothesline.

With Zed down, Smith takes a brief moment to pose to a chorus of boos. Giving up with the poor taste of the barbarian German audience, Smith then laid in a series of stomps. First to the hip, and slowly working his way down the leg. Thigh. Knee. Ankle. Next leg and up. He calls this the Leg Day. Taking place behind a stirring Zed, ‘the Tantalizing’ Taylor Smith waited to sink in the double underhooks. Slowly turning Zed, Taylor Smith wanted the Fatal Facelift, but Zed pulled his arms free and shoved Smith away. Back facing Zed, Smith is met quickly with Z’s Spearbuster combo - Downcast.

Air knocked out of him with the impact, Smith probably wanted a moment to recover, but Zed wasn’t giving it. Zed immediately pulled Smith in and up with a Powerbomb lift. Zed dropped Smith, sitting out and getting the knees up - Downfall. Zed piles up a leg and uses Smiths own weight in this pin attempt.

1!

2!

Reyes in in time to place a sized 15 boot upside Zed’s mug.

Peterson gets off his hip and back vertical to accost Reyes for interfering. Reyes just politely pushes Peterson out of his way to get his pound of flesh out of Zed. Overhead rights clubbed down on Zed as Zed staggered up. Reyes tossed Zed with the Irish Whip to the ropes, where Quinlan could make the blind tag. Bounding back toward Reyes, Zed dropped down and obliterated Reyes with a Front Chop Block. From behind, Smith is back up and bowling into Zed with a Double Knee Smash.

Entering the fracas, now the legal man, Quinlan sees fit to deal with Reyes first. Benny now back to a knee - the good one - Q ran forward and introduced ‘the Beaut’ to the Shining Wizard. Out of instinct, Reyes rolls out of the ring, now half-dead.

On the other side of the ring, Smith has continued his assault, not knowing Zed wasn’t legal anymore. With some effort, Smith Irish Whipped the larger Zed into the ropes. Smith telegraphed the Back Body Drop, but the problem was that Zed had hooked the ropes. Upset, Smith rushed in and caught a boot to the mush.

“Alley oop.”

Catching on to Quinlan’s request, Zed switched sides and pulled Smith in short-arm, and then over to launch him into the air with the Pop Up. On the other side, Quinlan had timed his spin to nail Smith upon landing with the Discus Elbow - Death by Elbow. Quinlan dropped to make the cover, and Peterson the count.

1!

2!

The lights were on, but nobody was home.

3!

DING! DING! DING!

“They’ve done it,” Vanderart proclaimed.

“If you mean that they screwed the Handsome Man Modelling School over, then yeah,” Gains offered a contrary opinion.

“How was that?”

“They obviously weren’t prepared to fight Zed AND Quinlan here tonight.”

“And if they had, they’d have probably tried to take out Quinlan backstage before the match, too?”

“Ladies and gentlemen, your winners of the match: Zed and Mitchell QUINNNLANNN!” Brent Williams belted as only he could.

“Well, regardless,” Vanderart dismissed Gains’ theory of wrongdoing done to the HMMS, “an impressive return showing here from Quinlan. I have to say, I was kinda surprised to see those two work so well together, if only for one night.”

And no sooner had those words been spoken that a conversation in the ring between our victors, mid-hand raising, had something soured Zed. If you could read his lips, you could tell he thought he wasn’t all that grateful with the assistance. He could have done it all his own. When Quinlan’s theme played and not his, he was out of there.

As for Quinlan, he took the moments he had to thank the Frankfurt faithful and savour the small section of the first few rows singing along with the Glorious Sons.

 

Indigestion

EpiCenter

an oesophagus of acid, a mouth filled with puke
the suppression of your lies do more damage than a nuke
for i know what you did but not why you did it
i’m further up your ass than daniel mcdevitt

eat your greens the radio says
it’s capitalism, capitalism, capitalism for days
a pseudo mindfuck to make you consume
archaic in nature, filling mothers with doom

follow like a sheep blinded by dogma
eat those greens up just for momma
but at the end of the day it's the corn that you want
attend the nacho church and drink from the font

tasting the cheese will make you feel better
powder on your fingers makes you even with your debtor
A family treat to ease indigestion
eat the whole bag is my suggestion

come mister harmen i’ll make you a star
a pulsating dot on the man's radar
for i am the rich man's bag of cheetos
there’s more than one reason they call me doritos

 

GODS VERSUS TITANS II

Gods Versus Titans II

COMING TO PPV AND THENBW.COM FEBURARY 2018

 

ALFIE BUTTON
Versus
KID CHAMELEON

Earlier on, Darren Best had brought us back to a deadlock with a vital victory in the ongoing Entertainers/Players Best of 7 series.

Who would give their team the edge going into another tag team match already pencilled in for Slam 103?

We were, as per, joined by The Mark on commentary.  Kid didn’t pay any attention to the crowd, preferring to master another Nintendo DS title en route to a crucial contest with Alfie Button.  Mind you, he had crushed Darren Best with just as much effort a couple of weeks ago.

Chameleon handed his handheld console over and got ready ‘to be entertained.’

Alfie’s emergence granted him a good reception and he pointed to the big screen with a special message for the fans and, above all, Chameleon:  “You won’t get lucky this week.  Lightning doesn’t strike twice and I’m faster than ‘im anyway.”

Button’s bolt down to the battlefield was abruptly interrupted as Kid Chameleon marched straight up to the Englishman and smashed him with a European Uppercut.

The Mark:  “Stankin’ Punch!”

It was on like DONKEY KONG.

Everyone, Alfie above all, was shocked Chameleon had uncorked the move Alfie himself had such affection for.  Chameleon had done this to Darren after a Tie-Up, but here, it was even braver.

A livid Brit darted towards Kid, who stepped to the side and grounded the quicker combatant with a Drop Toe Hold. 

However, Chameleon’s subsequent Elbow Drop to complete the Dake Toe Hold one-two went awry as Button’s superior speed swam to the surface.

Front Facelock by Alfie...

I PITY THA FOOL!  I PITY THA FOOL!  I PITY THA FOOL!  I PITY THA FOOL!

Vicious European Uppercuts poured in and paved the way for Button to take Kid by the head and lead him to the far side with a Hairpull Hang-on a minute...

No Cliffhanger!

Instead, an excellently-executed Reverse Northern Lights Suplex that threatened to leave a permanent imprint of Button’s bracket on the canvas.

The Mark:  “Southern Darkness Suplex.”

Rather than go for a cover, Kid Chameleon capitalised on Button’s horizontal base by sitting Alfie up after the Suplex, only to club him a stern knee to the back.

The Mark:  “Alarm Knee.”

Thereafter, Kid merely rammed Button’s head into the same knee that had just done damage.

The Mark:  “Coconut Crush.”

Gouken’s 3rd Disciple deposited the Englishman into the top right corner with an Irish Whip and aggressively let Alfie have it with...

The Mark:  “Preach 2 Da Boot.  So far, Kid is showing that one-on-one Alfie and Darren really struggle with him and Paul.  Last week, Kid took Darren OUT OF school and this week, he has grounded Alfie early because we all know Alfie’s electric IF he gets going.”

Another Whip...

Kid missed with Right Han! (Flying Forearm.)

Button’s aforementioned pace was again the key.  What could he put together?

A Schoolboy to start with...

1...

And that was it.

Unfazed, Alfie slapped on a Side Headlock and at the second time of asking, he connected with Cliffhanger (Hairpull Hangman.)

1...

Boy, had he got back in quick, but Lara’s Boyfriend had responded in kind.  Alfie stayed on Kid and whipped him to the ropes closest to the commentary table and dazzled with a gorgeous Corkscrew Elbow, otherwise known as Wheel of Fortune, scraping a maiden two-count for his efforts.

Chameleon was rocked and Alfie wanted to exploit the window of opportunity by going to the second rope...

Cut it Out!

The Basement Reverse Elbow between the neck and back of Nintendo’s Number One Wrestler was placed perfectly.

1...

2...

Kickout.

The cocky Cockney chanced his arm again...

1...

2...

Kickout.

Alfie popped Sega’s Ambassador on the second rope and turned round, ready for a run-up...

THUNDER IN PARADISE-DEEP IMPACT!!!

The Englishman’s attempted Middle Rope Tornado DDT had been countered by a leaping Kid, who connected with his own DDT.

A knee to the chin or nose brought Button to his knees in front of him; five speedy slaps to the cheeks, three left and two rights, paved the way for five kicks, three right and two lefts, the final one putting Alfie OUT.

1...

2...


No.


With Alfie on wobbly legs, Kid scooped the European import up for a MEGA DRIVE..DENIED.

Button snuck out of the back door, landing on his feet in the process, and then Dropkicked Chameleon into the top turnbuckle chest-first.

Unconventionally, the Cockney delivered a Hesitation Dropkick to a slouching Sega Ambassador from the rear, behave yourself, dragging Kid into the centre of the ring...

1...

2...

Uh-uh.

Alfie headed to the outside and up top, fans rising in anticipation...

“COME ON DOWN!”

Button’s fabulous Frogpump Elbow found its mark in the form of Kid’s chest. 

Uno...

Dos..


Tr-y again!

In fact, Button hopped over the rope and was set to board another flight, patiently preparing for take-off as Chameleon figured out where he was...

Eat My Shorts (Springboard Lou Thesz Press.)

The Cockney wasn’t content, darting left to prepare for a cracking crash landing...

AL JAZEERA!!! (Slingshot Arabian Press.)

1...
2...


Not quite.

Alfie was flustered and frustrated.  He scraped Kid up, seeking some sort of....standing switch.

Button shook his head...

German on the Englishman...

Chameleon didn’t let go.

Tiger to make it two.

The Vice Chief of Vice City hung on...

Dragon for the trifecta.

The Mark:  “Tricolor Suplex!”

1...

2...


3 suplexes didn’t make 3!!!

An Irish Whip sent Button to the buckle and as the Brit bounced out, Kid set Alfie up with what appeared to be a Scoop Slam.  However, it resembled more of a Reverse Fallaway Slam.

The Mark:  “Lake Quinghaj.”

1....

2...

The Mark:  “COME ON!”

Kid’s cheerleader on commentary was clearly frustrated it didn’t give the World’s Greatest Gamer victory there and then.
Another Irish Whip by Kid, who was looking for a Pop-Up...

Hurricanrana by Button...

1...

2...

Looking to capitalise, the cocky Cockney connected with Canal Plus (Leaping Poisoned Frankensteiner) for otra vez...

Uno...

Dos...


T.alk about back and forth!

As Kid climbed to his feet, he was knocked down by an unsuspecting SUPERKICK!!!

The sheer impact sent Lara’s Boyfriend hurtling through the ropes.  Alfie allowed the official to commence his count, though as soon as he got a sniff that the Saturday Night Slam Master was going to get up...

JUMPING THE SHARK!!! (Suicide Dive into a Tornado DDT!)

Button jumped up – and in - allowing the referee to initiate another count.

1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8

Button ignored the official’s request...

THEY KILLED KENNY----

...
....

THAT KILLED ALFIE!!!

The Tope Con Hilo had MISSED as a result of Kid ducking, sending Alfie into the EDGE of the table!!!

Now, it was the referee’s job to come and check on Alfie.  Both men were down.  HOLY SHIT chants ensued everywhere as the official deducted that the best course of action would be to return to the ring and start counting.

1
2
3
4
5
6
7...Kid started to stir.
8...Chameleon crawled...
9...Somehow, Sega’s Ambassador was in ...

And out.  This looked ominous for Alfie.

The Mark:  “Kid’s not doing this to inflict pain...he’s not Alex Reyn or ‘Big Kid’ Chris Smith.  He genuinely respects Alfie.”

At first, the Mayor of Mushroom Kingdom couldn’t move Alfie.  Eventually, a Fireman’s lift did the trick and Kid dropped the Briton onto the apron fairly gently prior to rolling his unconscious opponent back in, expecting a straightforward triumph from here...

Hooking the leg...

1


2


NO!!!

Alfie must have some sort of headache.  Chameleon was going to put ‘Essential Viewing’ away once and for all with a Rolling Elbo....SUPERKICK!!!

The Mark:  “Where in Midgar did that come from?”

Sensationally, Alfie was now looking to steal it...

1..

2...

Nope.

Both were on their feet...

I PITY THA FOOL!
STANKIN’ PUNCH!

I PITY THA FOOL!
STANKIN’ PUNCH!

I PITY THA FOOL!

STANKIN’ PUNCH!


STANKIN’ PUNCH!

STANKIN’ PUNCH!

Kid had, unsurprisingly, won the European Uppercut exchange.  Was it now time for a Mega D...MATCH OF THE DAY!!!
Chameleon had struggled to lift Alfie, who escaped not via the back entrance this time but on the spot where he’d been plucked, and had given it EVERYTHING on the Overhead Kick, which the crowd lauded and applauded him for.
Or maybe not everything...

ROLL THE CREDITS...

1...

2...


3!!!

The Mark was incredulous; the crowd erupted.  Alfie had pulled a Roger out of the hat and secured the 3-count.

How had he survived the Tope Con Hilo, which killed Kenny and almost wiped him out?  It didn’t matter.

What mattered was The Entertainers were back in charge and had the opportunity to wrap things up if they could repeat the same result in their tag tie from Slam 100.

 

PAID ADVERT BREAK PLACEMENT HERE

 

 

Tailgate

Parking Lot

Many people wandered about the parking lot of the arena.  Many leaned against cars and stood on the asphalt.  The lot was notably not as large as the ones in the American arenas, but that made the party a little more close-knit.  People mingled, but holding court in the center was Mr. Bedlam.

“Well shiiiiit I’m fuckin feelin’ it guys.  You fuckin Germans are champs!!!!!  And not just in the World Cup!”

The people around him alternatingly chuckled and cheered.  Jonny’s moderator, who also seemed to speak German, had followed him outside.  He looked at Jonny and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Hey Jonny!  Thanks for convincing em to let me uhh…move my duty station?”

“No problem Gary!  I like to throw a bone to the ol’ workin’ man if I can.  I used to be one.  If I keep skipping work and getting hurt, I’ll be one again soon.”

“What’d you do before this Jonny?”  Gary sipped a red cup.  Other fans listened, nearby, enrapt.

“Well…” Jonny took a big swig off of a bottle of Tullamore Dew that a fan had brought him, then coughed.  “Well…I taught Adapted Physical Education, for Special Needs students.”

Many of the fans nodded.  One fan spoke up, “That’s a noble calling. What made you leave it?”

“Ya know, I often ask myself that.  But, ya know...I watched wrestling when I was little and it was always in the back of my mind that I’d love to be a wrestler.  Then I stumbled upon a local show while I was in college and starting to teach.  I loved the job and helping those kids, but I figured I had a shot and needed to take it while I was young.  I’m still certified and keep up with my Continuing Education, because I know this isn’t forever.  Sometimes I think I made the wrong choice.”

The fan nodded, and then perked up again “So are you ok?  I saw you get quite the beating last week.  The internet reported that you’d possibly broken ribs.”

Jonny stared down at his bottle.  “Well, I feel a little better now, but I’m pretty sore.  I got one crack and three bruised ribs.  Laughing hurts a little, but I can breathe fairly easily.  I’m out this week and perhaps the next show.  I’m not sure, depends on how the doc feels about it.”

“And what of Laszlo?”

Jonny stared downward.  “Ya know, he got suspended.  He’s completely barred from even being in the parking lot or faces a much bigger penalty.  I don’t know.  I don’t really wanna say anything until I’m better able to handle myself, I guess?  Last time I took a shot across his bow, I nearly got my guts kicked in.”

“So, do you fear him?”

Jonny considered this, then smiled.  “Wouldn’t you be?  Fear isn’t a cowardly thing to me.  The guy doesn’t care about the rules.  Anything that sets him off just fully sends him into kill mode.  You get into the ring with a guy like that, what do you do?  He’s powerful as hell and gets crazy amounts of momentum going.  But he also showed me that he’s capable of that.  I’ll be expecting it next time.  I’m hurting more than I have after most of my matches.  That ain’t stopping me though.  I’ll face him again the second we both can get back in that ring or even back that building or even in this parking lot.  I don’t give a shit.  As Joe Pesci says, ‘I’m stupid like that.’  Thing is, I’m not running on my own gas, I’m running on my fans.  As long as I got you guys to lift me up, I ain’t ever gonna fall too long.”

The fan smiled at Jonny.  “So we saw the clip where you were hanging out with Jimmy Houlihan again, and he mentioned something about an NBW contract.  Do you have any further news on that?”

“Well, I think it’d be fairly safe to say that you’ll be seeing Jimmy a lot more than you were.  That’s about all I can say.  Why you asking so many questions, anyhow?  You one of them damn ‘journos’?”

The girl laughed.  “I may have a blog or something.”

“I figured.  Are you recording this?”

“Maybe.”

“What’s your name?”

“Tara Haider”

“All right Tara.  Well, how are you enjoying your exclusive interview with NBW Bum Jonny Bedlam?”  Jonny asked directly into the phone he was now aware of.

She blushed and giggled.  “It’s not bad, you are fairly decent at interviewing.”

“Tough crowd, tough crowd.  All right.  Any more questions?”

Tara looked intense once more.  “Are you in the title hunt for anything again?  Also, do you think Drunk Tank, should Jimmy join you in NBW, reform here?”

“Oooh.  Well, I don’t know what you mean by ‘in the hunt.’  But, I think it’s pretty well known that a certain title in the NBW seems built for my waist.  My last name may start with the same letter for it, and I may not be saying its name because it may be insensitive in the country I’m in right now.  Wink wink.  Subtle hint.”

Many fans stared at Jonny at this.  “You’re going for the Blitzkrieg title?”
“I didn’t say a word.  I’m saying…maybe I’m forming a committee to research into it.  Like a good politician.  Also, what kinda question is that second one Tara?  Seriously, there’s absolutely no way that Drunk Tank doesn’t reform if he gets in here.  As a matter of fact, lets settle the air, Drunk Tank is a forever thing, no matter if he and I are both dead.  So hell yes, we would come back.  As a matter of fact, that brings me to the high point of the evening.”

Jonny took off running towards a white van and smacked the side of it hard.  The door flew open and a 6’7” redheaded Wildman popped out, cowboy hat in hand. 

“No tailgate party would be complete, without this guy.  Ladies and gentleman and nonbinaries of Frankfurt, Germany…JIMMY HOULIHAN!”

Jimmy and Jonny stared at one another.  Jonny took a swig of his whiskey, and handed it to Jimmy.  Jimmy drained a good chunk of the bottle and hollered.
Tara ran over, trying to get the incident on her phone camera.  Many others were recording as well. 

Jonny and Jimmy leaned down towards Tara’s phone, smiling broadly.  “How’s that for a scoop, Miss Haider?”

The screen faded to black.  Then white words began to appear:

Drunk Tank 2015-Forever

 

PAID ADVERT BREAK PLACEMENT HERE

 

BROCK NEWBLUDD & DAVEY LA RUE
Versus
XIANG DYNASTY

“You ready for the next match, Gains?” Melissa asked. “We’ve got our nbW World Heavyweight Champion and “Coach” Davey La Rue about to take on the team of Xiang and Ai Tso. We saw them help The Great Wall outnumber Brock, Spike and Son of Malta two weeks ago following that AMAZING nbW World Title match!”

“Why does Brock handicap himself by hanging out with La Rue? Nobody likes La Rue!”

“LOTS of people like Davey, C.G. And we saw him make a spark of a return against Arthur Pendergast on the last Victory… now he’s gonna reunite with his friend, Brock Newbludd. But where The Xiang Dynasty go, no doubt that The Great Wall is sure to follow. With that said, let’s go to the ring for the introductions!”

The crowd turned to Brent Williams.

“The following contest is a tag team match set for one fall!”

“Top Shelf” by Underground Fight Club.

The crowd cheered first for the appearance of the love child of such beloved and hated coaches like Bill Belichick, Mike Ditka and Tom Landry, among others! “The Coach” of the non-WWE and ESPN variety made his way out, tipping his cap.

“Introducing first, from Baton Rouge, Louisiana, weighing in at 276 pounds… He would like to be now known as The Coach of Team Newbludd… ”THE COACH” DAVEY LA RUE!

Davey threw off his Landry-inspired hat and his Belichick-inspired hoodie and handed them off to the official.

“DA HAT!” Davey said in Ditka-esque fashion. “Make sure dat hat’s okay, huh, mon ami?”

Davey waited for his partner.

’Mouth for War by Pantera

Coming out onto the stage with a fist raised high above his head as red pyro shot off from the top of the Epicenter screen, the world champion received a tremendous ovation from the sold out crowd.

Sporting new ring gear, a singlet instead of his usual trunks, the world champion undid the large gold belt from around his waist and raised it up to the crowd. To him, it was just as much their belt as it was his.
“And his partner! From Milwaukee, Wisconsin, weighing in at 230 pounds...he is the NBW World Heavyweight Champion…’THE INNOVATOR’ BROCK NEWBLUDD!

Throwing the title belt over one shoulder, Brock made his way down the ramp, slapping hands with the fans as he went. Sliding underneath the bottom rope, Newbludd quickly climbed the nearest turnbuckle and raised a fist to the crowd one last time before hopping down and handing the world title to referee Tal Nedrick.

Joining his partner, Brock bumped fists with Davey as they waited for their opponents.

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

The music started to pick up and one by one, the lights of the set began to glow yellow and the rest of the arena became bathed in a low red hue. Slowly, three silhouettes appeared on the stage…

Xiang.

Ai Tso.

The Great Wall.

The pro-China contingent of nbW walked towards the ring slowly, absorbing the massive jeers of the crowd.Led by the dastardly Xiang, the crowd booed the Chinese Triad (the non-killer variety, but they could still probably fuck you up) as they approached the ringside area after a lengthy walk. The Great Wall had his match later tonight against Warren Spade in a Lumberjack match, but there was nothing explicit about him being here for his stablemates.

Stepping out onto the ring apron, Xiang ordered his loyal soldier to start the match, and not to disappoint him. Nodding his head in obedience, the stoic Ai turned his focus to across the ring to see who he would be squaring off with.

That was still undecided as the world champion and his best friend were in the middle of a grueling thumb wrestling contest that had both of them sweating at the brow. Evading LaRue’s thumb with quick moves and dexterity, it was clear that Brock was trying to wear down his opponent’s thumb muscle before going in for the kill.

Then, Davey briefly glanced over to see that the man who had turned his back on him was going to be starting the match, and it sparked a fire in the Cajun.

In less than a second, LaRue had Newbludd’s thumb clamped down tight.

“OK! OK!” Newbludd yelped as Davey glared at Ai and kept clamping down, his rage building.

“You win!” the champion yelled. “Now quit crushing my hand and go crush Ai’s head!”

Snapping out of his trance, Davey quickly let go of Newbludd, looking slightly embarrased.

“Sorry bon ami, jus’ seein’ da sight of dat turncoat snake in de grass makes my blood boil…”

Stepping through the ropes and onto the apron, Brock smiled at his buddy as he slapped him hard on the shoulder.

“Well then Coach, go catch that snake and cut it’s damn head off…” he said.

Slamming a fist into one hand, the party animal from Baton Rouge smiled back and turned to face a now impatient looking Ai. Instinctively petting his new moustache as if to draw power from it, LaRue lowered himself down slightly into a fighting stance.

Standing in the middle of the ring, referee Tal Nedrick wasted no time in getting the tag match officially underway and called for the bell…

DING! DING! DING!

Ai Tso was in a grappling stance and when Davey inched closer to him, Ai Tso went right for the leg, trying to sweep the bigger man down to the mat. Davey had the weight advantage and was… unorthodox to say the least, but Ai Tso had a strong technical and Judo background.

He quickly shot his former stablemate in The Different Breed and tripped him up on the mat before going right into a deadly-looking Armbar. Brock yelled for his friend to get up and Davey started to move around quickly, trying to scoot out from Ai Tso’s grip by throwing a right hand. Instead, Ai Tso ducked that…

Ipponzei!

With an arm-wrenching Over-The-Shoulder Judo Arm Toss, Davey suddenly found himself on the mat with the loyal warrior standing over him, looking a tad bit smug.

“Dǎpò tā de shǒubì!” Xiang shouted.

The order was to break his arm and Ai Tso nodded. He grabbed the arm of Davey and controlled it quickly with a tight Standing Armbar. Davey was mostly classically trained, but didn’t have the technical know-how to fight off Ai Tso’s grappling, so he did the best thing that he could think of doing…

Blowing the whistle around his neck right into his ear!

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

The high-pitched whistling set off Ai Tso and he winced in pain, allowing Davey to grab his hair and sling him down to the mat! The crowd cheered as Davey blew the whistle again and went for a quick cover on Ai Tso.

ONE!

Ai Tso shot a shoulder up.

Davey checked his arm to make sure that it was okay before he stood up again and now teed off on his ex-tag team partner with a few solid lefts and rights to the rib cage. He shot Ai Tso across the ring and when he hit the corner, he CRUSHED him with a Running Clothesline! Ai Tso convulsed and then pulled him out from the corner, scooped him up, spun him around in Norman Smi-LAY fashion and dumped him on the mat! The second that Ai Tso crashed into the canvas, Davey shot himself off the ropes and just barely dodged Xiang going after him before landing a Falling Headbutt! He tried another cover.

ONE!

TWO… NO!

A quick two-count that time, but Davey was looking much more confident in himself than he had in some time. Davey grabbed the head of Ai Tso and led him over to the corner before making the tag to Newbludd! The nbW World Heavyweight Champion climbed to the top rope with Davey holding Ai Tso…

MISSILE DROPKICK!

The move was right on the button and now Davey left so Brock could go for the cover on the loyal footsoldier of The Xiang Dynasty.

ONE!

TWO… NO!

Ai Tso kicked out again, but Brock was not about to give him a chance to get away. Xiang tried to reach out for a tag, but Mr. Milwaukee-Made ran over and BLASTED him with a Running Forearm to the face, knocking him right off the ring apron.

“That’s a receipt, asshole,” Brock shouted.

The attention was back on Ai Tso, but perhaps the lapse in his attention failed him. A quick European Uppercut from Ai Tso caught Brock on the button! He tried to move him over to Xiang, but just noticed that his partner was no longer there. Xiang’s jaw was rocked, so Ai Tso tried to go for a German Suplex. Brock kicked quickly to escape and shot himself into the ropes forward, where Davey made the blind tag. Ai Tso rolled with Brock in his grip, but before he could pop off another move, Brock ducked…

RUNNING CLOTHESLINE FROM DAVEY!

When Xiang tried to get back on the ring apron again…

KICKED BY DAVEY!

Brock and Davey were firing on all the proverbial cylinders and other great wrestling cliches as Davey and Brock now turned their attention to Ai Tso. Tal Nedrick told them that they only had five seconds in the ring to make do before Brock had to go to the corner so they made the most of their time in the ring.

Brock shot Ai Tso across the ring and laid into him with a hard Clothesline to rattle him. He kicked the leg out from under Ai Tso to make sure that he was in a seated position and then motioned to Davey La Rue to go running. Brock inched back and when Davey ran, Brock grabbed the back of his head for extra momentum…

AIDED ROLLING ROCK!

Davey La Rue threw all 276 into the chest of Ai Tso with his new Somersault Senton! He flattened him and then went for a cover quickly!

ONE!

TWO!

FRONT DROPKICK BY XIANG!

The Xiang Dynasty’s namesake rolled back into the ring and nearly kicked Davey’s head clean off his body! Brock ran back into the ring to fight him off, but Xiang had already leaped out of the ring and returned to his corner.

“Nǐ yào fù qián, nǐ zhège wú lǐ de gǒu!” Xiang shouted.

“Nah, fuck YOU, pal!” Brock shouted back.

Both men were back in their corners while Ai Tso rolled over and made the tag over to Xiang for the first time. The leader of the Xiang Dynasty rolled into the ring with The Great Wall watching from ringside. Xiang waited for The Coach to sit up and when he did, he laid into him with another Dropkick variation, this time of the sliding variety! Davey was flat on his back and Xiang had enough of the two. He grabbed Davey’s neck and took off his whistle…

“Lèsè!” Xiang shouted…

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

The crowd BOOED loudly when Xiang ripped the whistle off his neck and threw it halfway up the aisle. With that done, The Artist of War pulled him up…

NO!

Davey fired a pair of hard jabs into the stomach of Xiang! Davey then let out a shout and ran off the ropes, but when he came back Xiang was ready for him with a Jumping Calf Kick! The blow knocked him down and Xiang even peppered him with enough kicks until the big fun-loving Baton Rouge native ended up on the floor…

In front of The Great Wall.

Who was angry.

VERY angry.

Xiang suddenly shifted towards Nedrick and fired off a slew of Chinese words that I’m not going to bother repeating because they were all probably bad. There was probably some stuff about Tal Nedrick being adopted, nobody liked him, etc. But while this was going on, The Great Wall grabbed Davey, POWERED him up and sent him crashing HARD against the steel steps!

Brock saw what happened and yelled at Tal to pay attention, but The Great Wall had already done the hard work. Davey was thrown back into the ring and Xiang dropped a hard Knee Drop before following up with his first attempt at a cover.

ONE!

TWO!

NO!

Davey with the kick-out!

DAVEY! DAVEY! DAVEY! DAVEY! DAVEY! DAVEY! DAVEY! DAVEY! DAVEY! DAVEY!

The crowd was rallying behind LaRue, and Brock stomped his foot on the mat in rhythm with the chanting to try and get the cobwebs out of his friend’s head.

Smirking at Brock, the leader of the Xiang Dynasty picked a groggy LaRue back up to his feet and lifting up one of his legs. Driving an elbow down onto the knee of the leg he was holding, Xiang than sent LaRue back down to the mat with an impressive looking Dragon Screw Legwhip!

Instantly, Davey grabbed for his sore knee and Xiang could sense that he had created a weak spot on the burly Cajun. Looking to take advantage of it, The Artist of War unloaded with a series of hard stomps to LaRue’s knee, before landing a HARD kick to Davey’s head!

Bending over and grabbing both of the Coach’s legs, Xiang spouted off some more Mandarin trash talk before spinning around and falling to the mat…

To lock Davey in a FIGURE FOUR LEGLOCK!

Xiang had him locked in good, dead center in the middle of the ring!

Valiantly shaking his head and screaming no, LaRue was enduring the pain, but it was only a matter of time until he tapped. He needed his partner to help him get out of this bad spot.

Seeing that his friend was possibly only seconds away from submitting, the world champion had to do something and fast. But, instead of entering the ring, Newbludd climbed the turnbuckle…

In the ring, LaRue began to raise his hand. It was looking like the pain was about to overtake him!

Seeing Newbludd climb the turnbuckle, Ai made a move to get in the ring and defend Xiang, just as Brock leapt off the top rope…

FLYING ELBOW TO XIANG!

Brock just drove his elbow into The Artist of War’s heart, breaking the figure four just in the nick of time!

Scrambling to his feet, Brock ducked an incoming clothesline from Ai and as the former Different Breed member brushed past him the world champion grabbed him by the head to hit him with a Hangman’s Neckbreaker!

Main1


Quickly, Brock rushed over to help Davey get to his feet, but was cut off by Xiang who managed to reach out and grab the champion by an ankle. Kicking Xiang’s hand off of him, Newbludd took a page out of the Artist of War’s book by stomping his fingers!

Trying to get control of the situation, Nedrick ordered Newbludd to get back to his corner and having evened Davey’s odds slightly the world champion obliged him. Watching Brock head back to his corner, Nedrick suddenly felt himself get literally LIFTED off the ground and moved out of the way.

By a VERY angry Great Wall!

Having seen enough of Brock’s antics, The Great Wall had entered the ring, and after moving the referee out of the way like he was a small child the monster grabbed Newbludd by the back of the head with one of his massive hands!

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Yanking Brock towards him, the Wall then grabbed him by the singlet with his other hand and THREW him out of the ring! Newbludd cleared the top rope with ease to crash land all the way up to the bottom of the ramp!

Turning around, The Wall swatted away Nedrick like an annoying gnat and lifted the just coming to Davey off the ground with one hand and put him in a standing headscissors…

Having been flung down to the mat, a pissed off Nedrick immediately called for the bell.

DING! DING! DING!

The Great Wall clearly could give a shit less, and from the looks of it neither did his two stablemates who were slowly getting to their feet.

Seeing what had transpired since getting elbow dropped by Newbludd, Xiang grinned at the sight of his giant holding LaRue and he ordered The Great Wall to finish him off.

Not wasting a moment, The Great Wall lifted Davey HIGH up in the air, looking to crush Team Newbludd’s coach with his deadly jackknife powerbomb!

“I" by Black Sabbath.

WARREN SPADE WAS HERE!

And he looked PISSED!

Stomping down the ramp as the crowd exploded in cheers, Spade met Newbludd at the bottom of the ramp just as Brock was getting back to his feet, and both men set their sights on the Xiang Dynasty.

In the ring, the sudden interruption of Spade’s music hitting the speakers caused The Great Wall to stall for a split second and Davey escaped certain doom by landing a desperation jab to the Wall’s nose, causing the big man to drop him back down to the mat!

Wisely, Davey scrambled out of the ring, avoiding the clutches of both Xiang and Ai Tso. Joining his friends at the bottom of the ramp, the still hobbled LaRue bent over to catch his breath. Spade ran right into the ring where The Great Wall tried to meet him with a right. Spade clocked him in the face with a head butt and sent The Great Wall stumbling back into the ropes. The giant was hovering in front of him …

Big, big clothesline!!!

The force from the move was so great that it took the seven footer to the mat below! Xiang and Ai Tso tried to stop him, but …

SIZE 44 ROCKET CANNON~!!!

 … Xiang and Ai Tso got more than they bargained for when Spade landed an incredible double drop kick sending both of The Great Wall’s loyalists flying out from the ring!

Brock and Davey tried to fight back …

But Jake Tockwell!

“Hot Sauce” Raul Ramirez!

The Law!

“The First” Freddie Rich!

FIVE of the seven members of Team Big Talk rushed ringside and attacked the champ and the coach of Team Newbludd! The Law went right for Davey while Freddie, Tockwell and Hot Sauce went to Brock. He fired off a right and caught Freddie with a punch but left himself wide open for Tockwell and Hot Sauce to double team him by tackling the champion to the ground!

“Ha! Strike first, strike fast, JAG!” said Tockwell!

He blasted Brock in the face with a right hand while Hot Sauce held him down!

The Law had pitched Davey right into the barricade!

The Great Wall was starting to get back up, but when he reached the ringside area, Warren Spade was already right there to try and help his friends…

RUNNING CLOTHESLINE TO HOT SAUCE!!!

The manager and soon to be wrestler for Team Big Talk did indeed take one for his team, but Freddie Rich and The Law went after Spade!

The six on three was becoming real trouble until …

“The Colossus” Spike Saunders!

Big Rick Strongbern!

Son of Malta!

All with steel chairs!

“Oh, shit!” yelled Hot Sauce.

The second Team Big Talk saw them coming, they scrambled like vermin on either side of the ring, all except for The Great Wall who took a cheap shot on Warren Spade with a right hand!

Security were finally on the scene and tried to break up the two giants who were going all out due to their bad blood!

“ENOUGH! ENOUGH! ENOUGH!”

Harmen was now front and center on the stage with security still struggling to keep Team Newbludd and Team Big Talk separated! Spike, Big Rick, Son of Malta and their chairs had arrived in the nick of time.

“If you all want to watch the giants scrap, then we’re going right to it next! I’m telling all of you that we’re going to this properlyr. You're all going to go backstage right now while we get things ready. Say your vitamins, eat your prayers, talk last minute strategy, enter the ring like giant gentlemen … and then you can maim each other!”

Security were still holding Spade back while Team Big Talk tried to corral The Great Wall.

“Save it for the ring, big man!” yelled Tockwell.

“Spade, kick their ass!” said Saunders.

The Colossus helped try to calm Spade down and as the scene cut to commercial, we had to clean up the mayhem to get this match properly started!

Tonight’s main event would be right after a word from the sponsors who help NBW pay bills!

 

PAID ADVERT BREAK PLACEMENT HERE

 

THE GREAT WALL
Versus
WARREN SPADE
LUMBERJACK MATCH

After an almost uncontrollable fight spilled out between members of Team Newbludd and Team Big Talk moments ago, everybody was ordered away from the ring prior to the commercial to formally set up the next match! Coming up next was tonight’s main event pitting two giants looking to finally settle a grudge between the two. And the twist was that this was no ordinary match …

This was now scheduled as a Lumberjack match that would feature a combination of members from both sides of Team Newbludd and Team Big Talk!

Now with all the team members known for both sides of the historic seven on seven War Games match set up for Gods v. Titans, who was going to come out on top in the battle of two monsters that had been going to war for months now?

Would it be the returning “Monster of the Mid-South” Warren Spade, the former NBW World champion?

Or would it be the rising monster of 2017 - a man that had not only twice cost Spade the NBW World title but had also defeated him and put him out for a month back at Slam 100. He was also a man that attacked Spade’s best friend, EZ Blaze, on Slam 101 and made Warren watch via FaceTime The Great Wall had history on his side, but could he put the biggest feather in his cap of 2017 by defeating Warren a second time?

The questions would be answered right now!

“Born In China (metal instrumental)” by the Immortals was up first and the Great Wall made his entrance. The seven foot two and three-hundred sixty-five pound monster stood on the stage but he was not alone!

He was now with the other lumberjacks and the majority of the teammates for War Games!

“Big Talk” Jake Tockwell, “Hot Sauce” Raul Ramirez, Brady and Strauss aka The Law, and “The First” Freddie Rich.

Big Talk and Raul took the lead behind the Great Wall as the big monster walked towards the ring with the sole purpose of getting rid of Warren Spade and making his dominant year of 2017 the best year of his career!

“You got this big man! Kick that JAG’s ass!” yelled Big Talk.

The Great Wall climbed into the ring and the large menace from China was now keen on one thing: be rid of Warren Spade once and for all.

“Gather around, everyone, gather around!”

The arena went dark and a lone spotlight was now on the entryway. Whoever this person was had their back turned to the camera so as to hide his face, but he was a man in jeans, a black coat and a red and white carnival barker hat. He was very short and couldn’t have been any more than five-foot four, but he certainly had a gift of gab. When he turned, the crowd popped! This was Warren Spade’s manager, Fenton Woods!

“As you all know, my name is Fenton Woods and I would like to welcome all of you – the fans of No Brand Wrestling – to the greatest show on Earth! With some lumberjacks of our own … “

The crowd then cheered for the men who were going to back up “The Monster of the Mid-South!”

His former rival and now ally “The Colossus” Spike Saunders! Rising star Son of Malta! Big Rick Strongbern! The “Coach” of the team Davey LaRue! And the NBW World champ himself “The Innovator” Brock Newbludd!”

The five men walked on either side of the stage and allowed Fenton Woods to do his thing.

“I have no clever introduction tonight for you Great Wall! You’re big, you’re bad, but you picked the wrong giant to piss off and you’re gonna pay for what you’ve done to us and EZ Blaze!”

Fenton was all business now.

“Get his ass, Warren … “

He tapped his cane on the ground and his spotlight disappeared. The crowd was baited with anticipation and when words appeared on the EpiCenter they went crazy. 

MONSTER 

OF THE 

MIDSOUTH


Warren Spade was here! 

Black Sabbath’s “I” played and The Monster of the Mid-South stepped out onto the stage with nothing but payback on his mind. He had suffered a concussion that kept him out of action and during that time the Xiang Dynasty attacked his friend and Fenton’s other client, EZ Blaze.

“Get his ass, big man!” said Brock.

“You got dis!” said Davey.

Spike Saunders and Son of Malta each patted Warren’s arm.

“FUCK THAT GUY UP LITTLE MAN!!!” yelled Big Rick.

Warren gave a look of confusion at Big Rick Strongbern but he was happy that Clan Strongbern was at least an ally and not an enemy like he used to be. Warren walked to the ring with the majority of Team Newbludd right behind him, but the Great Wall was eager for a fight. He tried to swipe at the big man as he entered the ring, but he stepped off the ropes and pulled The Great Wall by his legs and dragged him to the floor!

While there were a total of ten lumberjacks from either side of Team Newbludd and Team Big Talk, nobody dared step in the way of the two giant men who were now exchanging fists on the floor! Warren was winning the face-off of the two seven-foot giants because he was throwing right hands endlessly and furiously into the temple of his rival!

Spade grabbed his head and pointed towards the ring post …

THUNK!!!

To the surprise of many, TGW didn’t go down after colliding with the ring post but he was now stumbling about the ringside area. The other members of the lumberjacks on Team Newbludd separated with Big Rick right behind him coaching in his own unique way.

“HAHAHA! WATCH THESE LITTLE MEN GO AT IT! THEY’RE FEISTY!”

Spade ignored Big Rick and with some effort on his part he got him into the ring now with the match now ready to officially get started.

DING

DING

DING

The match was on and Fenton Woods was watching from about halfway down the aisle at his client now picking up The Great Wall by the head. The bigger of the two seven foot monsters was about to rise when Spade got his foot ready … 

THE OLD SIZE 22~!!!

Not only ten seconds into the match when Warren had busted out his signature thrust kick to the chest of The Great Wall, putting him in the corner. Team Big Talk protested about his actions but Warren Spade ignored them. Spade showed great speed for a man of his size by running from one end of the ring to the other before delivering a big splash to the Great Wall. The Great Wall staggered out from the corner when Spade got another full head of steam off of the ropes


SIZE 44 ROCKET CANNON~!!!

Spade left his feet with an amazing front drop kick,catching The Great Wall and completely taking him off of his feet! The crowd roared in cheers and the Monster of the Mid-South went to pin his rival.

1 …

2 …

NO!!!

Despite the quick bumrush attack by Spade this early in the match, The Great Wall was in no position to go away that easily. Spade balanced The Guangzhou Goliath by his hair and a slick knee lift caught him on the chin, sending him back to the corner. Spade then threw The Great Wall over the top rope!

With the aid of Spike Saunders who was the tallest of everybody at seven-foot three, The Colossus, Brock and company put the Great Wall back on his feet and into the ring!

Spade was ready and able to end this quickly by running a foot across the mat. The crowd was gearing up for The Trample but when he ran to the ropes, Jake Tockwell was on the ring apron.

“Come on you dumb JAG!”

The King of Monsters grabbed Tockwell by the neck with both hands and shoved him off the ring apron where he was barely caught by both members of The Law! Freddie Rich and Raul Ramirez watched the action but what was failing Spade was the fact that now The Great Wall was behind him and struck him across his neck with a chop to the throat! That blow was enough to stun Spade and The Great Wall now followed up by amazingly picking up the Monster of the Mid-South and bringing him to the ground with an amazing Powerslam!

Brock and the other members of Team Newbludd shook their heads at Tockwell’s distraction working in The Great Wall’s favor and now it could be the end of the match just like that.

1 …

2 …

But Spade kicked out!

The Great Wall gave the referee and evil look for feeling what was a slow count before he stood up again and watched as Spade tried to get back up to his feet. Arrogantly the Great Wall started to sweep his foot across Warren’s face. He was doing nothing more than aggravating him because the second he tried kick him a third time … Spade caught his foot!

Now an angry Spade stood up and had The Great Wall by his foot. He looked incredibly pissed.

“I’ve had enough of your big ass,” said Spade.

Right after saying that, he landed a big elbow right into the crook of The Great Wall’s knee!

The Great Wall hobbled around the ring on his two feet and Spade quickly shoved him into the corner! Head butts were flying now and he planted several shots into the head of The Great Wall! The Great Wall tried to defend himself with an arm but Warren continued pummeling him now with a flurry of body shots. He stumbled back and when Spade had the chance he headed to the other side of the ring.

Another Size 44 Rocket Cannon was on the way …

But The Great Wall suddenly surged out of the corner and he incredibly scooped Spade up before planting him into the canvas with an amazing ring-shaking tilt-a-whirl slam now!

Instead of going for a cover this time on The Monster of the Mid-South, The Great Wall kicked Spade towards one of the sides of the ring … one of the sides where the rest of Team Big Talk were lying in wait.

“You big son of a bitch!” yelled Brock.

Team Newbludd watched Spade get kicked to the other side of the ring …

NOW ALL FIVE MEMBERS WERE LAYING INTO HIM!!!

Boots and punches were flying but the most damage was being done by both members of The Law!

Brady and Strauss were the equalizers for Team Big Talk and the heavy hitters so they were fighting back and each taking turns laying into The Monster of the Mid-South! Brock and Davey tried to get at them, but Hot Sauce had a few equalizers in his jacket pocket!

Now Big Talk and Freddie Rich had lead pipes in hand in case any of Spade’s allies tried to help with Hot Sauce having his signature can of mace.

“Anybody who comes near me gets the hot stuff!” yelled Hot Sauce.

Saunders and Malta watched as The Law threw Spade back into the ring with The Great Wall now standing over him. The two heads of security for The In Crowd watched The Great Wall power Spade up to a vertical base before he used an Irish Whip taking him to the corner …

CORNER SPLASH!!!

Spade was shaken from the impact and then was launched to the other side of the ring …

CORNER SPLASH!!!

The Great Wall then leveled Spade with a huge short arm clothesline that knocked him off of his feet! That attack was followed up by the Ghangzhou Goliath using the big leg drop (brother) right across the throat of the former NBW World champion! The Great Wall had him dead to rights and tried ending this match to give Team Big Talk some momentum heading towards Gods Vs. Titans!

1 …

2 …

No!

Spade’s shoulder came up off the mat, but The Great Wall knew that he was in a good spot to do some lasting damage. He’d already concussed Spade once before so he focused his attack and threw a few knees right into Spade’s jaw and temple as he tried to sit back up.

Each blow had Spade down, but the crowd was cheering him on with Brock Newbludd on the outside leading the signature chant of the Monster of the Mid-South.

”STAMPEDE!” Clap x2 ”STAMPEDE!” Clap x2 ”STAMPEDE!” Clap x2 ”STAMPEDE!” Clap x2 ”STAMPEDE!” Clap x2 ”STAMPEDE!” Clap x2 ”STAMPEDE!” Clap x2 ”STAMPEDE!” Clap x2

“Get up, Spade!” yelled Fenton.

The King of Monsters heard him and tried to rise when The Great Wall locked in a sleeper hold! It was one of wrestling’s tried and true maneuvers and it looked like the Goliath was trying to slow down the action. Spade was huffing now with nowhere to go while Team Big Talk was watching on the floor.

“End that big JAG once and for all! This is your moment, big man!” yelled Tockwell.

The sinister former NBW World champion watched his plan to be rid of Warren Spade come to fruition knowing The Great Wall had done a number on him. Spade was shaking and about to fall to a knee when he suddenly surged The Great Wall back into the corner!

The Great Wall wasn’t letting go of the hold …

No!

Spade finally made him by scooping him up over the shoulder and dropping him with a back drop suplex in the middle of the ring!

The sleeper was finally off of him and Spade had a fighting chance to get back up and do some more lasting damage to The Great Wall. Right now, neither man was moving but that wasn’t going to last for long because they were both getting up and they were both ready to fight.

Spade clocked The Great Wall with a big right hand and put the boots to him in the corner. He continued striking him and striking him with even more body shots before he put a knee into the neck and head, trying to actually strangle the man who helped Jake Tockwell win the championship from him earlier this year, but also cost him a chance to regain it in a subsequent rematch.

The Monster of the Mid-South then tried to hook the head of The Great Wall. He was trying to hoist him up out of the corner for Torn Asunder – his variation of an argentine backbreaker – when The Great Wall hooked his large arm around the top rope! Brock and company watched his back while Tockwell jumped on the ring apron and helped out the giant! The Great Wall elbowed his way free and scratched the eye of Spade! He chopped him on the side of the neck a second time …

CHOKESLAM!!!

The Great Wall put him down with the move and that had to be it now.

1 …

2 …

NO!!!

Spade’s shoulder boldly rose off the canvas and The Great Wall couldn’t believe it, nor could the members of Team Big Talk! Team Newbludd were cheering on Spade when he got the shoulder up, but The Great Wall wasn’t finished with him. He hooked Spade again and he was no doubt looking for another chokeslam …

But switched it up.

RONGYAO~!!!

He lifted Spade up and hit a reverse chokeslam into the mat! He had won matches off this move and after the first chokeslam, the reverse might have done the trick!

1 …

2 …

CLOSE, BU NO CIGAR!

“No, no, no! That was three, you stupid zero!” yelled Tockwell.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU TALK TOO MUCH!” screamed Big Rick.

He didn’t have any sense of irony, but Tockwell was an insufferable prick who only cared about himself and anybody he could use to serve his needs. The crowd these days would pick Big Rick over Big Talk any day.

Inside the ring, the action was getting intense between the two giants and now The Great Wall was certainly ready to finish the match. The Guangzhou Goliath picked him up by his hair and a toe kick was the prelude to the power bomb position. The Great Wall had used this very finishing move to cost Spade the title and give him his concussion.

He lifted Spade up on his shoulders with incredible strength …

HURRICANRANNA BY WARREN SPADE!!!!

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The crowd roared and couldn’t believe what Spade had just done!

It was a very ugly move with little grace, but it was enough for Spade to take The Great Wall down!

The Great Wall took a nasty face plant out of the insane move by Warren Spade and now the crowd was fully into things.

“No! How the hell did he do that?!” yelled Tockwell.

Spade saved himself from certain defeat and now he was about to go on the warpath once again. When The Great Wall got himself back up Spade struck him on the side of his dome with big rights until he was backed off of the ropes. He hit an Irish whip off from one side before Spade ran off the other and crashed right into The Great Wall like a missile with a flying shoulder tackle that nearly knocked him out of his boots!

Team Newbludd rallied behind the agile giant with Team Big Talk sweating collective bullets when Spade stepped over the ropes. The three-hundred thirty-five pound giant was now heading up to the high rent district where he was known to go against big men. Fenton Woods let out his signature call whenever Spade hit the top rope:

“LUCHA MONSTER!!!” yelled Fenton.

And Spade came off the top!

SIZE 44 MEGA CANNON~!!!

The Mega Cannon was the drop kick off of the top rope and with that now done, Spade had things in hand! He covered The Great Wall!

1 …

2 …



But where was 3?

Freddie Rich, that’s where.

He pulled the official’s leg right before the third hand came down, pulling him away!

And Big Rick had seen enough!

The heads of Clan Strongbern and The Rich Family began trading blows!

The Law rushed over there to help Freddie Rich, but Spike Saunders attacked Brady with a big punch to the ribs and threw him off to the side while Son of Malta came to his aid!

Hot Sauce attacked Davey La Rue with an eye claw and kicked him in the knee to take him down!

And now Brock grabbed Hot Sauce by his bandana and helped Davey fight him off! Team Newbludd had seen enough of the chaos unfolding and decided to intervene!

But Tockwell was in the ring now and untied the turnbuckle padding off one of the turnbuckles! One of Tockwell’s favorite weapons was the exposed buckle and with it, he figured The Great Wall could use it as an equalizer. But when Tockwell finished undoing the pad, Spade was right there and threw him over the ropes and into the ring!

Team Newbludd and the rest of Team Big Talk were already in the ring, but Spade now had Tockwell lined up in his sights.

He ran at him with The Trample, but The Great Wall was there to not only block the shot, but throw up a stiff side kick to the head of Spade!

“Peace out, JAG!” shouted Tockwell.

He headed out of the ring and struck Brock Newbludd from behind with a forearm! Now the current and former NBW World champions were fighting each other as The Great Wall now had Spade in the middle of the ring.

He charged at Spade …

NO!!!

Tockwell’s plan backfired!

The Great Wall smashed his chest right into the exposed turnbuckle which had to cause him great pain! He stumbled backwards out of the corner with Spade targeting him …

THE TRAMPLE~!!!

Right in the middle of the ring after stumbling out from the corner, Spade topped The Great Wall with his signature Spear!

“Yeah!” yelled Fenton Woods.

”STAMPEDE!” Clap x2 ”STAMPEDE!” Clap x2 ”STAMPEDE!” Clap x2 ”STAMPEDE!” Clap x2 ”STAMPEDE!” Clap x2 ”STAMPEDE!” Clap x2 ”STAMPEDE!” Clap x2 ”STAMPEDE!” Clap x2

The crowd was going insane as Warren now waited to end things. He looked like as he had The Great Wall up, he was going for a big move when he clutched the wrist, but not like his regular version of Torn Asunder. Instead he was lifted The Great Wall and ELEVATED him like a wrist clutch Olympic slam …

ASUNDER DRIVER~!!!

The crowd came out of their seats at such a big and deadly move being used! Spade had The Great Wall down and spiked him on his head and shoulders before going for the end!

1 …

2 …

3!

The fighting all but stopped at the sight of Warren Spade victorious! Tockwell turned to the ring and his jaw dropped.

“No! Damn it! No! No! No!” yelled Tockwell. 



Brock, Spike, Davey, Big Rick and Son of Malta rolled into the ring! Nobody in the ring was going to try and lift Spade on their shoulders, but tonight Warren Spade had finally defeated The Great Wall in a one-on-one match with evened odds! He had scored a measure of revenge for the times that The Great Wall had robbed him of title opportunities and injured himself and EZ Blaze!

The members of Team Big Talk regrouped up the ramp as they watched The Great Wall roll out of the ring, just barely conscious!

Inside the ring, Brock Newbludd raised his NBW World championship for all to see while Son of Malta, Big Rick Strongbern, Davey LaRue, and Spike Saunders all celebrated with Warren Spade in the ring! Fenton joined Spade and now the final shot of tonight’s show was Fenton on the shoulders of tonight’s victor in a hard fought Lumberjack Match!

Gods Vs. Titans was early next year and the battle lines between Team Newbludd and Team Big Talk were drawn tonight, but Warren Spade had a personal stake in tonight’s battle for supremacy and had finally put away his rival for tonight. They would no doubt meet again at Gods Vs. Titans, but tonight, the final shots were Team Newbludd celebrating along with Fenton Woods and Warren Spade on this momentous win!

See you in 2018!

Credits

A War for the Ages - Gorman/Markus/Seth/Keegan
On Me Own - Seth
OHIYAMA Versus CHARLIE BIRKIN - Seth
A Visit to the Bossman - Johnny
Remember What Vince Lombardi Said.. - Seth
TODD RICH Versus 'LITTLE' RICKY STRONGBERN - Keegan
Commerce in Frankfurt - Johnny
Oh! To be so Smooth - Mitchell
My Name is Cheese, for We Are Many - Doritos
Too Close to The Sun - Keegan
I'm not Dead - Shae
DARREN BEST Versus PAUL SANDERS - Keegan
Crowd Control - Johnny
Are You Doritos? Are You Doritos? Are You Doritos? - Doritos
Wicked, Twisted Spirit - Mitchell
HMMS Versus CRIMSON TIDE - Mitchell
Indigestion - Doritos
ALFIE BUTTON Versus KID CHAMELEON - Keegan
Tailgate - Johnny
BROCK NEWBLUDD & DAVEY LA RUE Versus XIANG DYNASTY - Gorman/Seth/Markus
THE GREAT WALL Versus WARREN SPADE - Markus