SLAM! EPISODE 86

Slam

No Brand Wrestling Presents: SLAM! Episode LXXXVI
Live from The Epic II Arena - St. Louis, Mo.

 

Intro

 

 

 

V/O - “Over ten years ago a small-time promotion out of Reading, PA came to existence. Over the years superstars have debuted and grown, some have retired, and others are still around today. Owners have changed. Locations have shifted. But one thing has always stayed the same. The name. Three Initials that have survived through the thick and the thin.”

The NBW logo is shown as it fades in and out showing the various designs from past to present. The voice-over by Trent McKnight continues.

V/O - “Those initials represent the past, the present, and the future. No Borders. No Boundaries. No Bull. Nothing But Wrestling. Ladies and Gentlemen welcome to the NBW!”

A video package rolls showing past wrestlers and on-screen talent from the original promoter Alex Styles to Xander Napoli onto the current: Thaddeus Boyle. Three different men with three different agendas, all of which were responsible for the success that is NBW.

V/O - “Many athletes have paved the way for the current generation entertaining the fans every week.”

Shots of Jason Kain, Maximizer, Frost, Rey Campbell, Cal Roberts, Blake Gray, Rejection, Uncensored, Jade Greene and Alan Helms filled the screen before being replaced with shots of macWICKED, Ali Amore, Lunatic, D-T, Max Hopper, High Flyer, Sam Potright, Dream Warriors, Rik Bone, Callie Urban, Heaven and Hell, Shawn Jessica Hart, Remy Leroux, Brock Metzer, The Gordon Brothers, Andrew Martin, Mat Walton, William Arthur Reagan, Nightlife USA, Sweet Daddy K, Techno Dragon and numerous others as the clips speed up to a blur.

Side to side ‘Special K’ Keegan and ‘the Colossus’ Spike Saunders fade into view before being replaced by an imposing image of the former Double Champion, ‘Superstar’ Vince Jacobs and his Cheshire-like smile.

His image is replaced by clips of the members of his Upper Echelon; Judasbleek, Warren Spade, and the Son of Malta.

They are soon replaced by the likes of Vic Gravender, Chris Moliano, Derecho, Judasbleek, Son of Malta, Torment, RaVage, Tremoid, Lexia Hart, Benjamin Jones, For The Win, Johannes Antonious de Castonovo and Aleczander of Family Keeling, Handsome Man Modeling School, Supersquad, Zed, and more as the clips speed up once more.

V/O - "The time to break the mold is now. To be somebody. To make a mark. To be..."

The NBW logo spins to life once more and fades out to the simple initials before the opening video for SLAM plays and then the initials return with the logo once more.

N.B.W.

 

New Years Resolutions

 

Melissa Vandeart and CG Gains were both at their ringside announce table about ready to break down the action for tonight!

“We have a big show for you tonight and this has just been announced! Jake Tockwell challenged his old rival from his Memphis wrestling days, Warren Spade, to a singles match tonight!”

“Big Talk is gonna win the main event!” squealed CG Gains like a fanboy.

“Warren accepted and the match was made official but with an additional caveat: the winner will become the Number One Contender to the NBW World title and will face Derecho in two weeks on the next Slam episode!”

“Warren’s hopping mad after how things ended at PRIDE, you know this Melissa! But Derecho’s right. He’s too emotional and Jake Tockwell has the opportunity of a lifetime to play him like a fiddle and face Derecho!”

“That’s all true! We also have a Pride rematch! The Unstoppables will be defending Dynasty tag team titles against the A-List and we will see them …:”

The two were about to gather their thoughts on the rest of the card when they were interrupted.

Lights Out.
 
“I am…”
 
“....I am”
 
“Charisma” by WASP

“What is Derecho doing out here?” asked Melissa. “He is not scheduled to be here!”

“He’s the champ, lady. He can do whatever he wants!”
 
The lights in the arena pulsed as Derecho stood there on the top of the entrance ramp with his back to the ring.  Derecho turned around to display the NBW World Heavyweight Championship.  Derecho began his descent to the ring looking rather confident.  He stopped at the bottom of the entrance ramp and walked around ringside where he walked up the steps.  Derecho stepped into the ring and hoisted the championship into the air to a chorus of boos from the crowd and looked very proud.

“He looks very proud for a man that had to resort to cheap tactics to retain against Warren Spade. He dominated that match and had it not been for that miscommunication between him and Fenton Woods, we could be looking at a new champ.”

“We aren’t though. This isn’t hypothetical. Derecho is the champ!”

Derecho’s music faded and the man known as the King of Hell was about to speak.

“I hate to be a man that tells people that I told you s … “

Just a few words into what was sure to be him gloating about Pride yet again, he was cut off and the crowd loved it! “Into The Arena” by The Michael Schenker Group blasted and the words appeared on the Epicenter screen.
 

MONSTER
 
OF THE
 
MIDSOUTH


 
Warren Spade stormed towards the ring and he did not look happy with how Pride ended, especially with how he was cheated out his first major championship in NBW. Derecho dropped his microphone and prepared himself as Warren entered the ring.

He ran with the title in hand and tried to strike him with the belt much like he did at Pride. This time Warren Spade saw it coming and he pushed Derecho right off his feet with just one hand before he stepped over the ropes!

“He’s not going to hear any of Derecho’s crowing!” yelled Melissa.

“He can’t do this!” yelled Gains.

Derecho tried to recover from being shoved on the mat. Before he even knew what hit him …

THE TRAMPLE~!!!

Opening

Warren nearly broke Derecho clean in half with his signature spear and the crowd erupted!

“Warren told him just this on the Slam Year End Special,” said Melissa. “The next time he saw Derecho, he was going to walk to the ring and make him pay for Pride and that’s exactly what he’s doing tonight!”

Warren then hoisted Derecho across his shoulders and turned to the roaring crowd.

THE ASUNDER BOMB~!!!

Derecho was nearly placed through the canvas with Warren’s finishing powerbomb variation out of the argentine backbreaker! The One-Man Stampede climbed up and stole the microphone Derecho had dropped.

“Enough of your shit, Derecho! It’s time somebody else gets to talk for a change!”

Warren shot a sly smile at where Derecho had been laid out and then turned to face the back. His scowl had returned.

“Now it’s time for my New Year’s Resolutions … Number One … Jake Tockwell! I’m shutting your ass up tonight!”

He looked at Derecho.

“Then after I beat him, in two weeks, I’m shutting your ass up again and I’m taking the NBW World title! Enjoy the show everybody.”

Warren Spade threw the microphone down and he walked out of the ring as quickly as he came in. The crowd cheered at Derecho being laid out and getting what he deserved!

 

Get Your Pride Back

 

Pride had been a mixed night for The Rich Family.  On one hand, Declan and Todd had seen off The Entertainers with an excellent victory.  Freddie couldn't make it a memorable show, coming up short in his quest to dethrone Ali Amore as the king of the Keystone ranks.

It showed.  As the four boys arrived at the arena, Declan, Donny and Todd were all laughing and joking while 'The First' still hadn't got over the disappointment, heading the pack with no oomph in his body language.

A door was opened for them.  'Filthy' Frank, who we only see occasionally, was waiting inside.  He beckoned for the four of them to sit down:  "Boys, good job on pay-per-view.  You know my thoughts on how you all did and I'm proud.  The Entertainers are going to come back for more.  You can't get away from that.  You'll have to deal with them.  Do it a second time and you move on.  That's what The Unstoppables did to you.  Make sure you do it to these guys and move up the ranks again."

Todd and Declan nodded.  Donny smiled and couldn't conceal his delight.  "Right, I want to talk to Freddie on his own.  So, give us five minutes and don't wander off.  Get back here and get ready for your match."

Frank sat down next to Freddie:  "Son, you did well against Ali, but truth be told?  You need more experience."

Freddie nodded his head:  "Why didn't you tell me that before?"

The original head told his successor:  "Sometimes, you need to learn.  Sometimes, we don't know until you give it a try.  I didn't know.  Now, I do and this is what I think you should do.

"Let's get you booked for four matches...four different opponents.  And, on top of that, let's face ex-champions.  Guys who've been there and done it.  So (counting on each finger as he laid this out) you go through a Tag, Blitzkrieg, Keystone AND World champion."

Freddie pondered the prospect:  "And then what?"

"Go through them first and see how you get on.  Either way, look at you.  You're miserable.  You need to get back to winning BUT...you need to do it against guys who mean or have meant something.  You can't pick guys from the front row.  You've been in with top opposition and there's no shame in losing to them.  You need to get in there with guys who are just below them, but who are still live and think they can win.  You're not at the top of the ladder, but you've been close to it.  Get your head straight, face these guys and rebuild your confidence.  Trust me," he said patting 'The First' on the back.

Suddenly, Rich stood up.  Frank was perplexed:  "What are you doing?"

Without turning round, Freddie calmly stated:  "To find the first victim."

 

Opener

 

“On our End of the Year Slam Special, we saw Ohiyama victorious in his re-debut against Xiang!” Melissa Vanderart said to the audience. “And tonight, Ohiyama looks to turn one victory into the start of a streak when he takes on the leader of The Handsome Man Modeling School, “Tantalizing” Taylor Smith!”

“Xiang spit on Ohiyama and that got him straight-up WHOOPED ON!” C.G. Gains yelled. “Dud got knocked the hell out! With all respect to The Handsome Man Modeling School, Taylor better cover his face!”

“Over the last week, Ohiyama won a sixteen-man tournament, The William Arthur Reagan Memorial Cup so let’s see if he can build on that with a win here tonight!”

And to the ring we go!

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

TAYLOR SMITH
PETER PHAM
BENNY REYES
TALK PRETTY TO ME!



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

Boos rained down on The Handsome Man Modeling School as they arrogantly walked through the double doors. All three men were decked out in their usual matching designer jeans but instead of having on the usual American Eagle fleece, all three had on black satin track jackets that had the word ‘Protege’ embroidered on the back of them to go along with each man’s last name. No doubt the jackets were gifts from their new mentor Ravage and they were wearing them with pride.

“Introducing first, being accompanied to the ring by both “The Beaut” Benny Reyes and “Photogenic” Peter Pham… from Santa Cruz, California, weighing in at 220 pounds… ”TANTALIZING” TAYLOR SMITH!

Their leader, Ravage, was still recuperating from his gruesome battle at PRIDE for the Blitzkrieg Championship over Brock Newbludd, so tonight his idiotic and self-obsessed proteges were taking up the mantle.

“THIS ONE’S FOR YOU, BOSS-MAN!” Taylor said to the camera as he walked to ringside.

Taylor took off his track jacket to show off his prime physique and then entered the ring. He teased throwing his jacket in the crowd, but then changed his mind last minute like a jerk and then laughed as he handed it to Benny Reyes.

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

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

“EO NA TOA! EO NA TOA E!”

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

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

“RRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

“And his opponent… from Hilo, Hawaii, being accompanied to the ring by Jules and Rafi Ke’ala… weighing in at 278 pounds… HE IS THE 2016 WAR CUP WINNER… OHIYAMA!

The 6’6” 278-pound Hawaiian garnered a GREAT reaction from the crowd! The two smaller men accompanying him to the ring were hhis cousins Jules and Rafi Ke’ala and the little troublemakers were a bit more grown-up, too, as they had been wrestling for Kyoto PRO as well. Jules and Rafi cheered their cousin on from ringside and watched the big man enter the ring. He stared Taylor Smith down for a second and then threw up the shaka sign once more before the bell rang.

DING DING DING!

Referee Slim J called for the bell and right at that moment, Ohiyama went in for a handshake to Taylor Smith. The leader of the HMMS looked at it and laughed.

“Ugh… moisturizer, bro!”

Ohiyama backed off and The Active Volcano got ready for action. Taylor Smith charged…

THWACK!

…Right into a STIFF Knife-Edge Chop from the Hawaiian Godzilla! The crowd winced from the sheer force behind that chop and so did the rest of The Handsome Man Modeling School members on the outside!

Ohiyama picked up Taylor Smith with both hands and threw him into a nearby corner. The Active Volcano backed off for a few moments and then charged with intention to crush Taylor Smith with a big Stinger Splash, but he surprisingly moved! Ohiyama hit nothing but turnbuckle and Taylor then unloaded on him with chops of his own!

PUNCH!

CHOP!

PUNCH!
CHOP!

PUNCH!

CHOP…

And Ohiyama just kept on walking towards him, looking like the blows barely fazed him. Taylor Smith was a capable athlete in his own right as were all the members of the HMMS, but Ohiyama’s travels in Japan had seemingly brought him to a whole new level of intensity. The stoic Hawaiian stood in front of Taylor with a smile before he grabbed him by the throat and LAUNCHED him in the corner with a huge throw! He set Taylor Smith to a seated position on the top rope and DROPKICKED him, sending him down to the floor!

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

Ohiyama rose to a knee and threw up the shaka sign. He was clearly having the time of his life tonight as he soaked in the adulation from the crowd.

“You got him, Big Oh!” Jules screamed.

“Finish it, brah!” Rafi added.

Both Benny Reyes and Peter Pham backed off from where their friend had landed on the floor. Taylor was hurt and tried to pick himself up, but Ohiyama was a nice person so he went outside to help Taylor Smith to his feet.

“After you, hoaloha,” Ohiyama said.

He threw Taylor back inside the ring and started to follow when Peter Pham had seen enough! He grabbed Ohiyama’s leg while Slim J was distracted inside the ring with Taylor Smith checking to make sure all of his facial features were still intact.

“Get away!” Rafi yelled.

He approached Pham and he and Benny backed off. Ohiyama looked at the three disappointed that they would stoop to such tactics, so he entered the ring…

RUNNING DROPKICK BY SMITH!

He caught Ohiyama flush on the jaw and sent him packing to the floor! The Active Volcano fell against the guardrail and stumbled back a bit! He tried to shake out the cobwebs and get back into the ring…

SECOND RUNNING DROPKICK!

Ohiyama was knocked to the floor and was left very loopy as Taylor Smith was now starting to feel a lot more cocky now that he was in control of the bout. Jules and Rafi watched their large cousin get taken to task as Taylor was about to hit the ropes for something big coming… INCOMING…

SUICIDE DIVE… NO!

Ohiyama CAUGHT the 220-pound Smith as he dove through the ropes…

HOTSPOT SUPLEX!

His vicious version of the devastating Exploder Suplex DUMPED Taylor Smith on the floor! His body might have been mangled by such a powerful move and the other members of The HMMS nearly crawled out of their skin! Ohiyama peeled Taylor off the ringside floor and then put him back into the ring, making sure the other HMMS members dared not interfere a second time. He was back inside now with Taylor Smith limping to try and get back on his feet.

Big mistake.

THE WAVEBREAKER!

OhiyamaTSmithMatch


The DEADLY Running Knee Strike caught Taylor Smith viciously in his chest as he was about to rise and the 278-pounder kneeled over to go for a quick cover on Smith.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

It was another dominating performance by the 2016 WAR Memorial Cup winner following a successful showings! His time in Kyoto PRO had turned him into a truly dominant force in the ring!

“HERE IS YOUR WINNER OF THE MATCH… OHIYAMA!

The Active Volcano rose to his feet and had his arm raised by the referee, but quickly Peter Pham and Benny Reyes approached The Hawaiian Godzilla.

“Hey! Asshole! That face insured! You gonna pay!” Pham yelled in his broken English.

“That’s right, jack! You’re gonna pay for that!” Benny poked him in the chest.

Ohiyama looked like he didn’t want to fight, but both Benny and Peter tried to attack him…;

They were both stopped by Jules and Rafi who had seen enough!

His smaller cousins entered the ring and grabbed them both by the arms for trying to sneak attack their cousin. STIFF Stereo Head Kicks caught both Peter and Benny in the head! Jules then grabbed Benny in a Fireman’s Carry…

KE’ALA KO!

All in his nice gear, Jules CLOCKED Benny Reyes with a version of the Go 2 Sleep he picked up wrestling in Japan also! Peter was groggy on his feet when Rafi moved…

DA KINE DRIVER!

The smaller of the Ke’ala cousins picked him up and SPIKED him with Spinning DVD! The Handsome Man Modeling School tried their best tonight to make Ravage proud in their absence but instead ran into trouble when they ran into Ohiyama and his family! After the members of The HMMS were cleared from the ring, Ohiyama grabbed a microphone from ringside.

“Greetings, nbW fans!” Ohiyama started. “And to people who had money on Taylor Smith to win that match… I am sorry you’re now broke.”

The crowd met him with a cheer as he spoke with a dry bit of humor.

“When I competed in Japan, my cousins also did the same when they wanted to start their careers on the right foot. They worked their way from the ground up. They scrubbed toilets, put rings together, took them apart, cooked dinner and worked hard to get where they are now tonight. I am here to announce that not only will I be continuing where I left off three years ago in nbW… my cousins will now look to get their careers on the right foot as well! We are here to fight with honor and the respect that this ring deser…”

“And girls, bruh, lots and lots of girls!” Jules yelled into Ohiyama’s microphone. Rafi then took it.

“Oh, I got the mic now, bruh! I’m gonna tell you all right now… we’d like to thank nbW for giving us this opportunity! And we’re awesome and happy to be here! And humble! And we’re going to totally RULE nbW, bruddahs! I’m…”

Ohiyama stole the mic back from Rafi.

“I’ll finish this one out. No Brand Wrestling… we are Ke’ala Ohana! Welcome to the family!”

After dropped the microphone, the three men posed and a big eruption of flames erupted from all four turnbuckles! They took in another cheer from the crowd and then took leave from the ring. Ke’ala Ohana were now set to be a force to be reckoned with in No Brand Wrestling and if Ohiyama’s current success was an early indicator, the future was very bright for the Ke’ala famly!

 

PAID ADVERT BREAK HERE

 

Freddie vs Haddon

 

To no fanfare or theme music, Freddie appeared at the top of the ramp and strutted to the squared circle, boos coming from various sections of the arena.  He didn't acknowledge anyone until he climbed into the ring, microphone in hand.  'The First' found the relevant camera, Tramel tells me it's number 2 so I believe him, and didn't shy away.

"At Pride, I lost.  I get it.  I'm young.  I'm not quite ready, but I will be.  So, let's get this show on the road.  I wanna face a former champion every week and, as I lost my last match for the Keystone champion, what better place to start than..."

He didn't even need to finish his sentence.   

'Hero' by Skillet.

'The Founding Father' Matt Haddon, sans mike, cracked his knuckles as he concentrated on Rich and the ring.

Freddie nodded and tossed the microphone to the side, waving Matt in.  The first phase of a four-step plan was underway.  How would Rich handle Haddon?

The First and The Founding Father

Youth v experience.

Not next...

NOW.

Ding Ding Ding!

Rich and Haddon tied up with the former shoving the latter back a few steps.  Obviously satisfied with his work, Rich rubbed his hands, indicating he felt the Founding Father would be a walk in the park.

A Side Headlock and Hammerlock lay at the end of the next C & E rainbow.  Haddon, however, used a leverage move that some heel commentators claim is grabbing the tights, Gains being no different in that regard, to deposit the cocky stud of the stable through the middle rope and to the outside.

Foaming, Freddie was soon up and set to complain to the official.  This enabled the veteran to hook his younger man with a Suplex and bring him back outside in. ...

No, in fairness, 'The First' showed excellent agility and presence of mind to land on his feet.  Nevertheless, his Roll-Up attempt failed.  Haddon, the heavier and stronger man, didn't comply with Rich's request and clung onto the top rope.

Matt sensed Freddie would be back for more.  He had to be first...

RUNNING SPEAR BY MATT!!!

One...

Two...


That was close!

Matt captured Freddie with an Arm Wringer, which was just the first step in Matt's plan,  He tied Rich up and connected with a terrific Crosss-Arm Neckbreaker, recording another near-fall.

No wasted motion, Haddon rammed Fred's head into the top right-hand set of turnbuckles a couple of times before transporting him to the diagonally opposite corner, unleashing a solid Elbow smash.

As Freddie was left smarting, Haddon ran off the ropes and rocked Rich with a big boot!

1...

2...



No!

At this point, the old lion was teaching the up-and-coming Simba a trick here or there.  A Fireman's Carry Slam lay in store...

Or it was supposed to.  Freddie, once again, landed on his feet and took Haddon by surprise with a kick, forcing Matt to Richie Keal over...

Double Underhook Backbreaker.

Haddon's spine was still a bit sore, the fact that he favoured it upon impact, was somewhat of a giveaway.  Like a predator sniffing out its prey, Freddie built on his breakthrough with another Backbreaker, which preceded a Backbreaker Hold.  Freddie then flung Matt to the mat, pun fully meant, and ordered the official to count.

1...

2...

Only 2.

Foolishly, Freddie lowered his head and made to pay by Matt after sending him into the right-hand set of ropes.  A Lariat punished his premature prediction he'd be able to Backdrop Matt and rather than stay down, Rich was up again...

Second Clothesline.  Haddon went full steam ahead and met Freddie with a rock-solid Shoulderblock.

Ordinarily, the Founding Father uses power and technique to dissect opponents.  Out of character, he elected to go to the second rope, patiently waiting for Freddie to regain sense of where he was...

Matt let fly, though what he was planning was unknown and would remain that way...

Powerslam counter by 'The First.'

A Fist Drop kept Haddon grounded.

"Get up, Matt.  Take it like a man," Freddie barked.  For the most part, he'd been up against it with Haddon, so God knows what he meant by that remark.

It was now Freddie's turn to build up some momentum, not that he needed it normally for this...

FREDDIE'S NIGHTMARE!

FLUSH!

Haddon sank to his knees, like he'd just been shot, and fell face-first.  Freddie, being the gentleman he was, would help Haddon back up...

And put Matt's head in between his legs (hey, none of that.)  Smiling smugly, Rich rubbed his hands again...

RAGS TO RICHES (CRADLE PILEDRIVER.)

FreddieHaddonMatch


A lateral press, no need for the leg to be hooked I guess, Freddie covered his the fallen Founding father...

1...

2...

3!!!

Dare I say, that was harder than Freddie makes out.  Still, credit where it's due, he had got rid of a former Keystone champion and mentor to Lucky Carter in fast and emphatic fashion.

Freddie had hoped to rebuild his confidence.  A few more performances like that would go some way to ensuring Rich was challenging for championships sooner rather than later.

 

No One Cares

 

The Players and A-List were walking past each other in opposite directions.  Deliberately, Price barged into Chameleon:  "Oh, I didn't see you there.  That's probably because you don't matter."

Sanders spoke out first:  "And you're still afraid of us."

Victor chuckled:  "Is that right?"

"We're not in the ring, are we?"

Ingram shook his head:  "You didn't beat The Law."

Sanders struck back:  "You didn't stop The Unstoppables."

VIP mouthed 'okay' and then increased the volume again:  "But, we're going to.  Seen the line-up?  Main event, jobbers.  Who are you facing?  Oh, that's right.  No one.  And you know what?  No one cares.  Until you beat someone, me and Principe...we're not lowering our standards to get in the ring with you."

Price held his hand up:  "Had a brainwave...who's that team you faced in Japan?"

Chameleon and Principe were mutes here as Sanders answered Ingram's query:  "Health Fanatics.  Beat them three-two in ACW, four-three in Japan and..."

"Do it again, here in nbW, and MAYBE, just maybe..."

Price again mimed 'bye' as he waved and headed away with Principe, presumably to prepare for another war with The Unstoppables.

For The Players, they'd have to deal with a team they only knew too well if they were going to get their hands on A-List anytime soon.

 

norwood vs fears

 

‘Still of the Night’ by Whitesnake.

Alyx Norwood, fresh off a victory at the End of the Year Special, stepped out to the center of the stage and enjoyed a moment of acceptance from the fans before the lights went out.

The EpiCenter II lit up with the text: “The First contestant is ready!”

The text faded away and was replaced once more by a figure standing in the darkness. A creepy mask covered his face and unfortunately all that could be seen. The mask looked to be ripped straight out of a horror movie or anime thrilled.

“Alyx Norwood! Welcome back! Before we begin tonight do not forget the spoils from your victory!”

CLICK. The orange spotlight hit the stage far-left where the cloak wearing woman, Lucretia, hiding her face behind a mask, stood in silence. Norwood ignored her and continued down the ramp while Lucretia followed a few steps from behind. Next to her was a wheel to spin with runes written upon it.

“Lucretia, if you would. Let’s see what Alyx’s challenge will be tonight!”

She grabbed the edge of the wheel and gave it a tug down, causing it to spin out. “Where will your luck land, slime?” The arrow continued to cross over familiar runes such as the orange one that held her own. It finally came to a stop on a green rune.

“Ah, quite intriguing luck you have Alyx!” Voiced the man on the screen. “That rune means you and your opponent will fight in a First Blood match.”

The screen went dark as Williams took to the center of the ring.

“This next match is scheduled for one fall, and will now be a FIRST BLOOD match- Introducing first making his way to the ring at two hundred thirty two pounds and being accompanied by Lucretia-” Norwood looked at Brent as he approached the ring and shouted: “No I’m not!” “-he is The Royalty… ALYX NORWOOD!

Alyx stepped to his corner, and waited. Lucretia meanwhile took position by the steel steps nearest him, her gaze set on Norwood.

“And his opponent-”

Every section of lights in the arena suddenly shut off with a loud resounding ‘click’! Handheld phones and devices cast about what little light they could muster as two purple spotlights shone down over the ring.

‘Pretty Little Psycho’ by Porcelain Black.

Almost too slow the spotlights trail down the ramp to the stage where out bursts one eager person to the cheer of the NBW fans. Wearing a Darkwing Duck tshirt, Zhalia Fears greeted the fans with a wave.

“Standing at five foot eight, currently on leave from the Broadmoor Hospital in Crowthorne, UK, she is the Kimera… ZHALIA FEARS!

Brushing aside her hair she crooked her head at the ring and made a dash for it while yanking her shirt up and over her head. Stopping at the ring, her face as pale as a ghost she reached up and grabbed the bottom rope, before rolling in underneath. She walked alongside the ropes looking out at the fans for a few moments. Catching sight of the camera nearest she rushed towards it and up the corner post, with a smirk she said 'Keep watching Zhaliphires!'.

Dropping down to the mat she took a few steps back to her corner and the official, Simon Brack, called for the bell.

Ding ding ding!

At the sound of the bell Zhalia met Norwood in the center of the ring. Alyx half expected another mad woman rush but instead she extended her arm in a show of sportsmanship. He reciprocated with his own arm, the two giving a shake then broke off and found himself being circled, and likewise he too circled; both looking for the opening window. Norwood went with the collar-elbow opening grapple looking to show off his strength with Zhalia, getting her arm wrenched back, then slipped behind to lift her up and over with a bridging belly to back suplex.

Of course it was held on to like a pinfall, but given those didn’t matter he released the bridge and Lucretia was quick to get on the apron and got Brack’s attention, all the while looking past him at Norwood. Alyx wasn’t having it, ignored her and backed off from Fears as she got to her feet. Once more the two locked up and Simon returned focus to the match at hand. This time Zhalia transitioned into a side headlock.

She added in some pressure, cranking down as she had been taught to do but Norwood easily raised her off her feet, drop her on the back of her head. This time Alyx followed through with an elbow to the sternum, then went straight for the legs, dropping the knee on the calf.

Stepping back once more he waited for her to get up to a standing base, then grabbed her and launched her into the ropes. As she came rebounding back he dropped to the mat but much to his surprise and enjoyment of the fans, Zhalia dropped flat next to him smirking.

Norwood swiped at her but she rolled out of reach and popped back up to her feet, as did he. This time it was Fears that rushed at him, clothesline in mind but Norwood ducked under, swept her leg out from under and quickly transitioned around so that she went face first into the mat.

Zhalia staggered back up to her knees, shaking some cobwebs from the face plant, but still with the wherewithal to jolt upright as Alyx had leaned down to grab her, jostling his jaw upward and back from the headbut to the chin. She quickly shoved him off him, back into the corner, then sprinted forward with a flying knee to the midsection. Zhalia followed with a stream of shin kicks aimed at the chest.

This was her way of fighting and it was always evident by the huge kickpads she wore over her boots that went clear up to her knees. She propped Norwood up onto the top turnbuckle, the two traded blows but Zhalia uses the ropes to leap up, catching her legs around him and sends The Royalty back to the center of the ring courtesy of a hurracarana.

Fears grabbed at her chest, evidently still feeling some of the after effects of her battles with the Couli trio. Ignoring it for the moment, she ducked through the ropes and ran across the apron, leaping up onto the turnbuckle furthest. Waiting  a few seconds for Norwood to reach his feet, she leaped off with a dropkick that sent him tumbling through to the outside, right next to Lucretia.

“A human slime is letting another human slime make a fool of it.” She remarked while standing next to Alyx, arms crossed in front of her. “It should probably move.”

Words stated, much too late as Fears came flying off with an Asai Moonsault right into her kneedrop on Norwood!

Zhalia scooted herself back into the guardrail and sat atop it for a few moments to regain her breath. She leaned back while the fans around her hugged her. It wasn’t for long as Norwood was already getting back up from the ground. Fears saw this and made way back to the ring, Alyx shortly behind her.

Both back in the ring, Norwood swung for her, and she ducked back, pivoted to catch him from behind. Alyx managed to reverse into a waist lock of his own then shoved her forward into the ropes. Expectant of her coming back at him with a head of steam, he avoided the lariat and caught her in his arms, swinging her around and raised her up in the air for a backbreaker that he dropped across his knees. Putting pressure on her chest and thighs before shoving her forward off and onto the mat. He then pulled her up to her feet by the left arm, yanked it to send her into the corner shoulder first.

Walking up behind her he grabbed her once again at the waist, pulled her out, spun her around and hurled her once more shoulder first. Fears bent over the second turnbuckle and Alyx used that to grab her, popped the hips hard and execute a snap german suplex that sent her the distance.

“Check her slime!” Lucretia called out from the floor. Brack did just that but neither were bleeding at that junture. Norwood meanwhile took to the opposite side of the ring, away from Lucretia, waiting to see if Fears would get up. And she did indeed stir. Figuring he had to get hard and heavy on her he dashed across the ring with a low kick to the side of her head. The punt uplifted her from the ground and flipped her back on her back practically.

CLICK.
The lights went out and The EpiCenter II lit up to the familiar masked figure.

“The game continues we see. Well Alyx, time for a powerup. Ladies.”

The orange spotlight returned and at the top of the ramp stepped out Michelle Couli, and the Hellion sisters. The three taking their sweet time walking down to the ring as the arena lights returned in full, while Alyx yelled at them to stay clear, then at Lucretia. Fears would get back up to a near standing base but Melantha Hellion’s Superkick caved her head in from behind.

Circe Hellion quickly grabbed her off the mat and flattened her with a scoop slam that she followed with a stomp to the neck. Both sisters then helped Fears up to her feet, seemingly, before shoving her into Couli. Leg wrapped over the arm, the scissored DDT scored - BLACKOUT!

Circe wasn’t ready to leave her be and stomped down on her spine, then reached forward with the choke. This finally brought Alyx over, and he hauled her off of Fears. Pointed up the ramp and told the three to leave. Michelle smacked him upside the head then yelled at Melantha to drop him.

Of course Simon Brack got involved and ordered the three out of the ring and when Michelle refused, he motioned up the ramp and out came Jerry Peterson, Slim J, and security personnel led by Rex. The group got the women out of the ring and eventually up the ramp, all the while Alyx had turned his focus back to his opponent.

Brack then went to check on Fears but she was still fine, other than out cold. Alyx considered attacking but decided if he was going to win, it’d be by his own means. Along with the fans the two waited until Zhalia was moving and getting back to her feet. Brack checked with her on continuing the match which she agreed upon.

Zhalia back up to her feet but Alyx gets right behind her. He pulled back to avoid a heel kick and then goes for the ankle, yanking her into him but Fears snapped off with a enziguri. It connects but doesn't take him off his feet, only knocking him into the ropes which she uses to sending him across the ring. Then leap frogs him as he comes close. Alyx instead hits the breaks and catches her in the air, spinning around and running forward with a powerbomb!

However Fears hooked her legs around his neck as he raised her high and before he could drive her down, she drilled her head forward with a headbutt that rattled him. Enough that she maneuvered around, legs still in position and pulled off a reverse hurracarana that spiked Alyx into the mat.

Fears thought for certain that did the job but Brack checked and saw no blood. She sighed and went to the corner. Leaping up top she turned around, ready for her corkscrew moonsault - Down the Rabbit Hole!

But Norwood pulled the knees up! Fears clutched at her midsection, wrapping her arms around as she rolled off him in pain from the impact.

Alyx then rushed her with another low kick that caught Fears, but this time Fears caught the punting boot and twisted it while standing to her own feet, using the ropes as leverage. She swung his foot away and followed with a crescent kick. She went for the left strike but Norwood caught her arm, whipped her back into the post and followed with a shoulder thrust. Zhalia however shot her boots out and stopped him, kicking him back from her then used the momentum to slip down his back and catch him from behind, grabbing at his neck with both arms for reverse bulldog.

She sprinted across the ring, rebounding from the ropes and coming back with a leaping swinging headscissors just as Alyx spun around to face her. Sending him back into the corner where she rushed him, using his back to vault up in the air and crash her knees back down into the back of his ribcage.

Grabbing the ropes, she pulled herself back over toward the corner and climbed up top. This time she took a seat and pulled Alyx up by her legs, wrapping them around his head. It isn’t clear what she had planned but Alyx begins to fight free taking rapid shots to her thighs and wrenching her ankles to try and pry them apart. It’s enough to loosen the grip and then catching her off guard he uses the first buckle, to prop her up on his back and then the second for added height.

Looking out at the crowd he pulled her up on his shoulders in the firemans carry position. Before he could make the jump Fears was fighting for all she’s worth to get free. Elbows striking the side of his head, looking to jostle his equilibrium. It works and Fears slipped off the shoulders, landing on the ropes next to him, then grabbing his shoulder she jumped up wrapping her legs once again for the hurracarana.

Norwood however shot his arms forward between her legs, grabbing her and then raised her up in the air for the powerbomb!

Except he didn’t. Instead Alyx vaulted her backward as he leaped off the second turnbuckle, SMASHING her head into the post as a result.

Fears fell through the ropes to the ring steps outside in quite the awkward landing. Alyx waited to see if she’d get up on her own while Brack checked for any blood. Seeing none and when Fears stirred Norwood decided it was in his best interest to take care of things on the outside so he stepped through the ropes.

Pelekick! Snap judgement call by Fears who could barely even get to her feet, managed to pull it out of the tank.

Zhalia started to stand back to her feet again, seeing Norwood there she executed a left roundhouse kick, but completely missed Norwood. Or so it seemed as she finished her full rotation and caught Alyx with a right spinning hook kick! ODE TO KUSH! Her version of the Capoeira hook-kick that her friend named the same used to use.

But as Norwood hung over the second rope, she fell back to the ground, laid out sprawled on the cement floor.

“GET HER, SLIME!” It would be the screeching yell of Lucretia that knocked Alyx back to earth. Pulling himself out of the ropes he saw that Fears was out but the match wasn’t over so she wasn’t bleeding. Brack headed over to check-

CLICK.

The lights went out. The EpiCenter lit up once more to the familiar masked entity. The arena too dark to see, Brack had turned his attention as with Norwood to the man on the screen.

“Alyx, you are now being allowed the use of cheatcodes.”

Fears pulled herself up on the apron on the otherside of the ring, the light glow of the EpiCenter illuminating her but neither man had their sights on her. Lucretia did however. Grabbing her ankles from behind she bumped herself under her legs and raised Zhalia up in the Electric Chair positioned.

NorwoodFearsMatch

“GOD MODE ACTIVATED.” Voiced the man on the screen.

It meant nothing to either the official or Norwood, but Lucretia executed her Electric Chair Driver driving Fears head first into the edge of the ring. The impact enough to split her forehead open and she was out cold. Backing off, the lights returned and Brack returned to the otherside of the ring and saw Fears busted open.

“THAT’S IT!”

He called out and the bell sounded. Walking over to Alyx he held his hand up in the air as the winner. Lucretia then shoved Brack aside, “away from me slime!” She walked over to the ropes and held them open for Alyx, but his attention went to the outside to check on his opponent.

Fears was out, and Brack was down with her checking on her. Noticing the blood seeping from her forehead, Alyx was confused but shrugged it off and made his way out of the ring. This time avoiding the ropes from Lucretia and dropping to his back to roll out of the ring. The two walked back up the ramp while EMTs came rushing down the side of them to Brack and Fears.

Alyx Norwood was on a roll. So it seemed.

 

PAID ADVERT BREAK HERE

 

Still Hot

 

Adria Hoyt was standing by with The Entertainers:  "Guys, you lost again on pay-per-view, this time to The Rich Family..."

Darren held his hands up:  "Yeah, we did, Adria.  Despite that, we're still the hottest tag team in nbW, aside from The Unstoppables.  We're not ones to complain, everyone saw what happened and that's why we want a rematch with The Rich Family."

Alfie stole the microphone from his other half:  "Old Man River was bang on, wiv what 'e said.  We ain't finished wiv ya - not by a long shot.  'ow is it that the 'ottest team in and out of the ring keep losin' and yet we keep on winnin' fans AND THESE..."

Both boys pulled out TWO trophies each.  In the nbW Tag Team match of the year, it was a split vote but one common denominator - The Entertainers were involved in both bouts.  A lackey came back in to take them away with Alfie warning the guy he'd better look after them as well. 

"Tell me that, Adria."

Best took his mike back:  "It's time we started winning in the ring.  We've got everything going for us, the fans on our side, and we'll step it up.  There is one team that can stop The Unstoppables, Adria.  We've come the closest, even more than A-List, and we've got the style to upset anyone on our day."

Hoyt nodded:  "Alfie, how can you get back to winning ways?"

Button asked - and got - Best's microphone:  "By bein' us, Adria.  Look at 'ow we lost to The Riches at Pride.  It was a joke, babe.  In a fair fight, we run rings round 'em and stitch 'em up like kippers, know what I mean?"

Adria asked one final question:  "Twenty-five to Life.  Is that where you want to face The Rich Family in the rematch?"

Best nodded as Adria's microphone was pointed at him:  "Sure, we're happy to do it there."

Alfie, clutching the other, had to have the final word:  "We'll do it wherever and whenever:  We're like my girls, Ashley and Chelsea.  We'll go in the morning, afternoon, evening, twice on Sunday, free times on Fursday, four times on Friday, it don't matter.  Whatever it takes.  If they wanna do it tonight, we'll grab our gear and go now.  Rich Family, A-List wiv or wivout the the belts, Health Fanatics and yeah, even The Unstoppables.  Skills pay the bills. speed kills and we've got bof to burn, Adria."

There you have it!

 

Rich Famil VS RAF

 

This was the first occasion we'd seen Todd and Donny work together.  Normally, Todd and Freddie make up what we'd consider The Rich Family's A-Team while the duo of Declan and Donny was at the opposite end of the scale.  Any combination in between was still seen as a capable unit, though Declan wasn't yet strong enough to mask his younger brother's blatant deficiences.  Freddie and Todd, being more senior, could.  Or not?  We were about to find out.

Todd started against Ant Rushton, the slightly smaller of the twin RAF members€(not really twins, but they are so alike in style.)

A Tie-Up went Todd's way in the shape of a knee to the midsection, somewhat of a shortcut, and the cousin of the family went to work with clubbing forearms to the spine.

Moving left, Todd came off the ropes and connected with a hard High Knee.  With Rushton weakened and Donny in the vicinity, Todd tagged out.

Donny aimed to replicate his cousin's success and missed with a Kneelift, landing on his head.  Todd winced, but then remembered his frustration with Freddie's lack of patience and encouraged Donny instead with shouts of 'Come on' and complimentary claps.  Shame he was the only one in the arena participating.

Shining Wizard by Rushton!

1...

2...

Todd made sure we didn't have a quick upset by pulling Ant off the youngest member of the faction.

While the ref made sure Todd departed, Ant whipped Donny into the RAF's corner and scored with a sublime Spinning Heel Kick for another two-count.

Oh, showing off now!  A beautiful Backflip Kneedrop brought a mixed spell for Rushton to an end.  Ade Flowers was now in.  Split-Legged Moonsault.

What was I just saying?  Ant returned for an encore, and what an encore it was, courtesy of a sensational Springboard Moonsault to spell double trouble for Donny.

Predictably, Todd quashed the count before it could get going.  As the referee warned Todd, the cousin correctly pointed out that the near-fall had occurred as a result of double-teaming and he was well within his right to deny the RAF a victory.

Ade lifted Donny up for an excellent Inverted Suplex.  At the top end of the ring, just as Flowers was bouncing off the ropes, the third and spare man, Declan Rich, nicked Ade's leg and forced him to trip.  Hmm.  A bit suspicious, but the ref didn't see it.

Donny, determined to get going, took full advantage with a High Angle Belly-to-Back Suplex for a 2 of his own.

Then, he forgot his train of thought and came over to goad Rushton.

Wait a minute...

CRADLE DDT by Todd!

He calls that 'Strike it Rich.'   And they may have with that.  Ade was OUT.

Declan got the official's attention.  Donny, the legal man, also turned around and covered the unconscious Ade. 

One...

Ant immediately interrupted, but Todd was on hand to pick him up and throw Rushton over the top rope.

Todd nodded at Donny eagerly, telling him to hook the leg again.

One...

Two...

Three!!!

Donny stood up, smiling, as Todd congratulated him and Declan also made his way to pat younger brother on the back.

Todd, with a decisive hand by Declan, had carried Donny through this match with an agile, athletic yet ultimately inexperience outfit in RAF.   Rushton and Flowers would have to regroup.

What looked like a dodgy decision, selecting Donny over Declan, had actually paid off - just!  The Rich Family are nowhere near the same force with their pesky passenger representing them, whether a senior member is holding his hand or not.  With Freddie in singles action, it would surely be up to Todd and Declan to fly the family flag when they entertain The Entertainers in a pay-per-view return.

 

Rematch?

 

The cameras opened up backstage where Zhalia Fears was getting checked over by the doctors. She sat there patiently until something caught her eye. She burst from her seat and out of the physicians office. Immediately rushing to the right down the corridor as two EMTs are trying to catch up with her.

"ALYX!"

She called out as her target was the man that had beaten her less than an hour ago.

"Hey ALYX!" Once more, this time he stopped after passing through a doorway. "Hold up."

Fears came to a stop at the door and swept her hair from her face, walking straight up to him.

"Alyx-"

Norwood politely held his hand out in front of her, stopping her. "I know. I saw the replay."

"I am not going to take the victory away from you. I will not even contest it. However-" she kicked back and leaned back against the doorframe. "Are you okay with this? I mean how it went down?"

"Ms. Fears, the rules and condition were met. I am okay with that. Speaking of," he pointed at the blood seeping from her forehead, "you should get that cleaned up."

"I was. However wanted to catch you before you left. Because Alyx, face it. You had FIVE people helping you out in our match. FIVE." She held her hand out open to express that. "And unlike your match with Lucretia, I was giving you a run."

NorwoodFears2


"You were, and they did. I didn't ask for the help. That nuttso in the mask arranged all that. The psycho following me around?" He shrugged and placed his hands back behind him once more. Neither of them knew that at that very moment, peaking her head around the corner of the hallway was Lucretia. "That was her doing, not mine. But the match condition was the first to bleed, and sorry but you were by the official's call."

"She is no psycho. Trust me, I spent some time with psycho's and those two, they aren't. They are playing a game with you. What it is I do not know. However Alyx, I want to know if you can accept the victory as it is." She leaned back again, "or... we have a rematch. Give the fans a real treat."

Alyx turned around and started off down the exit hall once more. "I'll think about it."

"That is all I ask!" She smirked and rested against the doorframe. "Not sure if I can wait though."

 

PAID ADVERT BREAK HERE

 

The Rookie of the Year and the Talk of the Town

 

Coming back from the break, the camera slowly faded in to reveal the NBW’s lead interviewer, Trent McKnight standing alone in the middle of the ring. The straight shooting journalist, let the background noise of the sold out crowd die down slightly before raising the microphone to his lips.

“Ladies and gentlemen, joining me in a few moments will be a man who in 2016 fought his way from the bottom of the NBW roster to the top, eventually earning himself the honor of holding one of the NBW’s much sought after championship belts...” McKnight paused as the crowd started to buzz in anticipation before continuing on.

“And after winning that title, he has spent the last eight months defending it in some of the most epic and exciting matches of the past year, and through these efforts he has also earned your, the fans, respect and admiration...so much so that he was recently named the 2016 NBW Rookie of the Year! And you know what, something tells me that he is just getting started!” Trent finished with as much pizzaz that his normally stoic personality would allow, but it seemed to have served it’s purpose, as the packed house had gone from anxiously buzzing to loudly cheering.

“So, without further ado, please welcome the NBW Blitzkrieg Champion…”The Innovator” Brock Newbludd!” Trent exclaimed over the roaring crowd and the camera shifted it’s focus to the stage as a pulse pounding guitar riff began playing throughout the arena. Evidently Brock decided to get some new entrance music to coincide with the new year.

’Mouth for War’ by Pantera

Striding through the double doors with Sally Renolds at his side, and the Blitzkrieg title slung over one shoulder, a street clothes clad Newbludd looked full of confidence as he stopped at the top of the ramp to raise a fist to the crowd, while Sally did the same next to him. Soaking in the cheers for a long second, the couple headed down towards the ring as red pyro shot off up and down the ramp on both sides of them.

When the two made it to the bottom, the camera zoomed in for a close up on Brock, and it appeared that he was fully healed from his brutal encounter with Ravage that had taken place a month ago at Pride. The numerous cuts that had covered his face were gone, and most noticeably the black eyes that he was sporting at the End of the Year show were also gone, meaning that his broken nose had more than likely fully healed. No doubt, the time off during the holidays had done wonders for the Blitzkrieg champion’s health.

Walking ahead of her man, Sally trotted up the steel steps to the ring apron, and in a move that garnered a reaction from the crowd, sat down on the second rope while pushing up on the top one. She was holding the ropes open for Newbludd!

With a look of empathy painted on her face, Sally waved with one hand for the frowning Brock to enter the ring. Shaking his head as he climbed up the steps, Newbludd rolled his eyes at Sally before stiffly bent over to enter the ring, though he did it in a very stiffly and slowly. As he stepped through the ropes and straightened his back Newbludd grimaced slightly, which made it apparent that even though his facial injuries had certainly fully healed, he was still not one-hundred percent. Though he did try his best to cover up his pain by flashing a confident smile and raising a fist up to the cheering crowd with one hand while he helped Sally in with the other.

The two walked over to McKnight and Brock gave Trent a friendly slap across the back that caught him off guard, causing the NBW interviewer to drop the microphone. Letting out a laugh, Brock started to bend over to pick it up, but then glanced over to Sally who rolled her eye at him before snatching up the microphone and handing it back to Trent.

“Thanks Sally…” Trent mumbled before quickly regaining his poise, “and thank you for joining me Brock. First things first, congratulations on being named the 2016 NBW Rookie of the Year, that has to be a good feeling”

Trent tilted the mic towards Brock and the Blitzkrieg champion opened his mouth to speak but a loud ovation from the crowd stalled him. Newbludd looked absolutely humbled as he slowly spun in a circle to admire the NBW faithful, before raising a hand up to quiet down the crowd.

“Thanks Trent, and you’re right, it is a damn good feeling. We had a hell of a run last year, and you were right about another thing...we’re just getting started!” Newbludd confidently said and Trent pulled the mic back.

“By ‘we’ I assume you’re talking about yourself and Sally?” McKnight asked and Brock nodded his head in agreement.

“I’m talking me, Sally, and everyone of these people sitting here tonight, or watching at home...who have believed in me and supported me since day one.” Newbludd stopped as the crowd gave a large ovation before continuing on. “And I know that to some, saying something like that might make me look ‘soft’ or ‘weak’, but they confuse weakness with confidence...they think being honest is being soft. I could care less because I am who I am, and the fact of the matter is that who I am is the NBW Blitzkrieg champion! And if anyone wants to step up to me, and try to take this... I’ll put their ass down just like I’ve done to every other man who’s tried!” Newbludd then raised the title belt in the air high above his head with one hand.

“So, I say this to anyone who thinks they have what it takes to challenge me...my determination is unmatched, my grit unparalleled, my wrath unforgiving...and I will fight until my last breath to keep what is mine...because that is what these people deserve in a champion!”

Another round of cheering ensued, but a frowning Sally wasn’t as captivated by Newbludd’s words, and the perceptive McKnight noticed.

“Sally, I have to be honest, you don’t look to confident in what Brock just said…” Trent pointed out, causing Brock to give her a questioning look, but she ignored him as McKnight put the mic in front of her. .

“It’s not a matter of confidence Trent, I believe in Brock just as much as everyone else does, probably more. But, what I think my fired up boyfriend here needs to remember is that he is still injured, and he still is not cleared for competition.” Sally turned her gaze to Brock.

“Sorry baby, but you need time to heal, and that is the fact of the matter. So, as your trainer and as someone who cares about you, I refuse to clear you until you’ve made a full recovery.” Sally then poked a finger into Newbludd’s chest, “So stop getting these people all worked up!”

Sally’s stern words caused the crowd to give her a smattering of boos and she threw her arms up defensively as she mouthed the word ‘Sorry’.

“Fair enough Sally, and I think the biggest question that everyone would like to know is when should we expect Brock to be cleared?” McKnight asked, and it appeared as if both Sally and Brock were about to answer when suddenly they were cut off by a music hitting the speakers, causing the crowd to burst out in boos…

”Life in the Fast Lane” by The Eagles

Without fail the music hit of perhaps one of the biggest nuisances to come along to No Brand Wrestling in a long, long time. “Hot Sauce” Raul Ramirez walked out first and right behind him was the man set to face Warren Spade tonight for a future title shot - that was “Big Talk” Jake Tockwell!

Brock Newbludd and Sally Reynolds did not appreciate the interruption what may have been a big moment for the Blitzkrieg champion but Big Talk was all about making his own moments. The manager and client walked into the ring and Jake Tockwell pushed one of his blond locks out of his face.

“Cut the music, technical college virgins!” yelled Tockwell.

The music quietly faded out and Hot Sauce spoke up first with his own microphone.

“Big Talk and the Hot Sauce comin’ at ya!” said Raul. “As always, I am the manager of future champions and NBW great, ‘Hot Sauce’ Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrraaaaaaaauuuulllllll Rrrrrrrrrrrrraaaammmmmmiiiiiiiiirrrrrreeeezzzzzzz!”

Booing erupted from the crowd with his really dumb catchphrase. Big Talk smiled at his manager.

“With me is the future Number One Contender after he puts a whopping on that big idiot, Warren Spade … Big Talk Jake Tockwell!”

Tockwell strutted right up to Sally Reynolds and gave her a very inappropriate look over. Brock wanted to punch him for it but Sally instinctively stepped between them.

“I’m Big Talk and what I say goes! And what I’m saying is this…

He now looked down at Brock Newbludd and his cherished Blitzkrieg championship.

“Big Talk was back there getting ready for his match with that big JAG, Warren Spade, tonight for the Number One Contendership but then I heard another JAG out here crying about his boo-boos!

Visibly annoyed by Tockwell’s bold insults and also by the fact that ‘Big Talk’ was eyeing up Sally like a piece of meat, Newbludd snatched McKnight’s mic out of his hand.

“Let me get this straight, ‘Big Talk’...you’re calling me a JAG, just another guy? The way I see it, I’m the only one standing here with gold around his waist, which would make me the guy!”

Newbludd then reached over Sally’s shoulder and pointed a finger right in the grinning Tockwell’s face.

“So why don’t you and your greasy little friend there turn your asses around, and get the hell out of here...because I don’t have the time or patience to deal with a couple of JAGoffs like you two!”

“Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow!” yelled Raul feigning like he was shot by a gun. He fainted right into Big Talk’s arms.

“Hot Sauce! You okay?” asked Tockwell as he tried to resuscitate him by fanning his face. “Did this JAG’s lame burn get you? No? Okay? You good?”

Raul dusted himself off.

“I’m sorry. I thought we’d have to get the burn unit, Big Talk, but all that fire … I don’t see it!”

A smiling Big Talk then laughed off Brock’s joke. He was a bit more serious with his tone.

“Let me be the first person to tell you the only reason that you’ve had that belt for eight months is because for eight months, you weren’t on Big Talk’s radar! Make no mistake I’ve got a big opportunity tonight to beat Warren Spade but when I heard you and your little sob story out here with your little nurse, Big Talk had to come out here. So what … are you going to come out here and try and relinquish that title because of your little boo-boos? Figures, right Hot Sauce?”

“Right, Big Talk!”

Big Talk turned to Sally.

“Hey, baby … I’ve got an offer for you. If you’re here to watch this cross-eyed window-licker give up his title and be a little bitch, how about you come home with a real man like Big Talk? You can play doctor with me! Maybe give me a sponge bath and find out the only thing that’s bigger than my talk …”

“Are those ridiculous boas you have wrapped around your neck!? I suggest you keep your mouth shut and your dick in your pants because...” Newbludd noticed that Tockwell was none too pleased from being interrupted, causing Brock to stop and smirk for a moment.

“..if you don’t you’ll be getting sponge baths alright, right after I break every bone in---” Newbludd was then suddenly cut off as Sally took a step forward and slapped Tockwell across the face!

NewbluddTockwell


Big Talk was almost surprised with Sally and rubbed his cheek where he had been struck. Raul Ramirez looked at her with disbelief.

“Would you look at this?” said Raul. “She can fight no problem, but Brock Newbludd can’t? Wow … I bet you don’t like to hear that, do you? Having your manhood called into question. How about you do something about it, Brock?”

Raul touched the plate of the Blitzkrieg title.

“If you think we’re such pushovers, then how about you put that title on the line right now! Big Talk has a match later tonight but I guarantee you that he could smoke you in less than five minutes! That title is money and you don’t let money fall to the side, Brock … when money is left on the table, Big Talk is right there to pick it up!”

Brock’s eyes narrowed as he glared at Raul, before they fell upon Hot Sauce’s hand that was still touching the Blitzkrieg title. Then, in one quick motion Brock grabbed Raul’s arm and jerked him in close before shoving the manager down to the mat. Jake bent over and lifted Raul backup with ease.

“It looks like I was right about you being a pushover, Hot Sauce!” Brock said with a hint of laughter. “You want a shot at me Tockwell? Well, you got it!”

Newbludd took a step forward and Sally stepped in front of him, putting both hands on his chest.

“You’re still injured! You can’t!” Sally pleaded with more than a hint of frustration in her voice.
 
“No, let him!” yelled Big Talk. “If he’s as tough as he thinks he’s been the last eight months, let this little window-licker do it! Bring it!”

He then pinched Sally square on her behind! He winked at her but that gave Brock an open shot to deck Tockwell in the mouth!

Jake stumbled backwards into the ropes as he held his jaw, and Raul rushed over to check on him. Meanwhile, an infuriated Sally grab Brock by the arm to stop him and a wide eyed Newbludd looked at her incredulously.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Sally? Injured or not, I’m not going to let this shit slide!” Brock yelled right in her face.

Sally sighed, and glanced over to Tockwell who was shaking his head, trying to recover from the hard punch he just got dealt. Realizing that she was stuck between a rock and a hard place, she looked back to Newbludd.

“I know you can’t...I know…” she muttered, looking torn from the decision she had to make.

“Then clear me!” Brock snapped back, trying to keep one eye on her and one eye on the two men by the ropes.

Gritting her teeth, Sally nodded her head before grabbing Brock on both sides of his face to put his full attention on her.

“You gotta do what you gotta do, so go get that son of a bitch, Brock! I officially clear you to wrestle!” she said, though not too confidently.

Newbludd grinned at her, and then instructed Sally to get to the outside of the ring, away from the carnage that was only seconds away from starting.

“Somebody get a damn ref in here, now!” Brock yelled at McKnight, who through all this had stayed in the ring.

Not wanting to be anywhere near danger, McKnight quickly nodded his head before rolling out of the ring and frantically sprinting up the ramp to escape through the sliding double doors. The doors didn’t even have a chance to completely close before reopening again as veteran referee Jerry Peterson came sprinting through them, and by this point the crowd was in an absolute fervor from the events that had just taken place.

The Blitzkrieg title was on the line...right here and right now!

 

Blitzkrieg Match

 

Catching a glimpse of Peterson coming down the ramp with a full head of steam, Newbludd decided to kick this impromptu championship match off and charged forward towards Tockwell and Raul!

Still holding the Blitzkrieg title in one hand, Newbludd stuck his arm out to clothesline Tockwell over the ropes and to the outside, while doing the same to a stunned Ramirez with his other arm and both men toppled over to crash to the outside!

Referee Peterson showed some great agility as well, having to do an impressive juke to avoid having the two men fall onto him before pointing at the timekeeper to ring the bell!

DING! DING! DING!

Hearing the bell, Newbludd tossed the belt down to Jerry, who was still standing next to the downed men, and Peterson instinctively raised it above his head which garnered more cheers from the crowd. Peterson then rushed over and placed the title on the timekeeper’s table, while Brock ascended the top turnbuckle.

Looking down at the two men who were starting to get to their feet, Newbludd cocked his knees to leap off before suddenly stopping himself, and cautiously putting a hand to his side. It was obvious that there was something underneath Brock’s t-shirt that had him second guessing what he was about to do. Regaining the composure that he lost from the uncharacteristic lapse, Newbludd raised up again.

The time Brock lost by rethinking his gameplan, had given Tockwell enough time to see Newbludd perched on the top rope, and instinctively Big Talk rolled out of the range of whatever it was that Brock was planning. Raul on the other hand, was not as perceptive as he staggered to his feet.

“Hot Sauce, move!” Tockwell yelled out to the confused Ramirez.

Too late.

Spinning around, Raul’s face turned completely white when he saw Newbludd descending towards him, and he threw his hands up to defend himself. But, Raul’s defense didn’t help him much when Brock sent him back down to the ground hard with the diving double knee drop that was more famously known as the Meteora!

New-bludd! New-bludd! New-bludd!

Using his knees to drive Raul down to the ground, Brock used the momentum to forward roll upon impact and pop up on his feet only a few feet in front of the waiting Tockwell…

GIFT OF GA--NO! Newbludd ducked the deadly lariat at the last second!

Missing with his signature clothesline, Tockwell brushed past Newbludd and stopped his momentum abruptly only to spin around and drop to his knees in one fluid motion. Newbludd was just starting to turn around himself when suddenly a big arm appeared between his legs…

Low Blow by Big Talk!!!

BOOOOOOO!!!

Instantly doubling over from the nut-crunching blow, Newbludd tried to put some distance between himself and Tockwell,before rolling underneath the ropes to enter it. Big Talk didn’t immediately chase after Brock, who was laying on his back in the middle of the ring with a pained look on spread across his face, instead opting to go check on how Raul was faring after taking the diving knee drop.

“Hot Sauce! Get up, damn it, get up!”

He slapped the back of his manager’s head to try and wake him up. Raul was still groggy, but he was going to live. Satisfied that Hot Sauce was going to make it, Tockwell strutted up the ring steps and entered the ring, letting out a laugh at the sight of the the defending champion sprawled out on the mat.

“Looks like Big Talk might be done with you in less than five minutes!” Tockwell gloated before bouncing off the ropes and leaping high in the air, looking to hit a massive leg drop.

Nobody home! Newbludd rolled out of the way!

Jake’s leg drop hit nothing but mat upon impact, causing pain to shoot up through his tailbone as he now sat in an upright position with one hand holding his back. Getting to his feet, Brock put his hand up to his side once again and wince in pain. Still, the Blitzkrieg champion had an opening and he took it by quickly bouncing off the ropes and nailing the upright Tockwell with a Shining Wizard!

A loud SMACK was heard when Brock connected with the running kick and the back of Tockwell’s head bounced off the mat from the impact as well!

Finishing off the kick, Newbludd screamed out in pain and clutched at his side. A quick camera cut to Sally Renolds showed that she had an unmistakably worried look to her as she watched the match, which was disconcerting in itself considering that Brock was on the offensive at the moment.

Still clutching his side, Brock stalked over towards the corner and began to climb the turnbuckle, but unexpectedly jumped back down after he got up to the second rope. Either he had once again decided to change his tactics, or there was some other underlying reason for his apparent indecisiveness. The only thing that was definitive about the Blitzkrieg champion tonight was that something was amiss, and the frustration that painted his face as he now stomped over towards Tockwell confirmed it.

Another lapse by Brock had given Jake enough time to slightly recover from the Shining Wizard, and now he was once again in an upright sitting position. Seeing that Big Talk was about to get up, Newbludd rushed in from behind and locked Tockwell in a Dragon Sleeper!

Big Talk flailed his arms as Brock cinched down on the submission, and the ref dropped down to get in position. Still flailing his arms, Jake screamed ‘No! No!’ and began trying to punch Brock in the face to break the hold.

With a roar Brock clamped down tighter!

Jake’s awkward punches at Brock’s head began to slow and the crowd began to slowly roar as Big Talk began to visibly fade and Jerry grabbed Tockwell’s right arm and lifted it up…

And it fell!

With the crowd urging him on, Newbludd maintained his tight grip and Jerry raised Tockwell’s arm again, causing the crowd to hush…

It fell again!

Now the crowd was really letting it rip, but suddenly they were silenced when in one last desperate effort Jake lashed weakly out with the arm that Jerry was about to grab and hit Newbludd in the ribs with it, causing Brock to scream out in pure agony and break the hold!

If there would have been someone at home just tuning into Slam, they would have thought that someone had just shot Brock Newbludd by the way he was holding his side and screaming in pain as he stumbled backwards towards the ropes.

With Tockwell still on the mat, but quickly getting his strength back, Newbludd leaned against the ropes and took quick breaths as he held his side. Looking over to Sally, Brock could see that her worry had brought her nearly to the point of tears. Gritting his teeth, Brock refocused on his opponent, and with a look of pure determination he took a step forward towards Jake who was now almost back to his feet.

Only to be yanked backwards against the ropes by Hot Sauce!

Brock immediately threw a elbow backwards to knock Raul off the apron, but Hot Sauce was a slippery one and ducked the strike. Then in what almost resembled a mugging, Raul grabbed Newbludd’s t-shirt with both of his hands and began to yank and tear away at it! 

Totally confused by Ramirez’s actions, Brock simply tried to get away from Raul who was tugging and ripping at Newbludd’s shirt with reckless abandon. Fed up, Brock spun around to clock Raul and the sudden movement caused Brock’s entire shirt to rip off of him…

To reveal that his entire torso was completely wrapped in white gauze and tape! There was an audible gasp heard from the crowd at the revelation, and Sally could be heard crying out in despair, knowing that the jig was up.

Holding chunks of Brock’s shirt in his hands, Hot Sauce literally jumped for joy at the discovery, and pointed a finger right at that taped up torso with one hand, while waving his arm to get Big Talk’s attention with the other.

“Go for his ribs Big Talk! His rib--OOF!” Hot Sauce was promptly shut up via a Newbludd fist that sent him flying back down to the ringside floor!

Tockwell had made it on his feet in time to see the end of the exchange between Hot Sauce and Newbludd, and wasted no time in gunning for Brock’s injured ribs by spearing the distracted Brock into the corner!

Trapped in the corner, Brock looked in absolute agony as Tockwell delivered a rapid succession of shoulder thrusts that ended with the defending champion crumpled like a ball in the corner. Like a shark smelling blood in the water, Tockwell proceeded to viciously stomp the downed Brock so hard that Jerry stepped in front of Big Talk to back him away from Newbludd.

“No rules you dumb bitch! Get outta my way!” Tockwell arrogantly pointed out to the referee before casually shoving Jerry aside.

Peterson understood the rules, probably more than the the tenacious youngster did, and he had been the ref in some of Brock’s more brutal title defenses over the last year, including his most recent one in a Last Man Standing match against Ravage. By the time that match was over both Newbludd and Ravage had beaten on each other so badly that they had to be stretchered away from the ring, yet during that whole encounter Jerry didn’t intervene once.

Thus, his stepping in front of Tockwell like that clearly indicated that he had very serious concerns about Newbludd's health, and those concerns were possibly justified by the fact that Newbludd was making no attempt to get up or even defend himself as Jake charged back in.

Tockwell rained down with kick after vicious kick, each one causing Brock to scream in pain. Not satisfied with his work, Tockwell dropped down to his knees and began hammering Newbludd with fists and elbows. As a smiling Tockwell continued with the beatdown, Brock stopped yelling out in pain and absorbed each shot with a eerie and distant look held in his eyes. Equally as eerie was the fact that the crowd, who up to this point were showering Big Talk with boos, had gone silent as well.

Giving one last hard shot to Brock’s bandaged ribs, Tockwell pulled himself up with the ropes, before climbing up the turnbuckle to the second rope. With the crumpled up form of Newbludd underneath him, Tockwell spread his arms wide in victory, which broke the crowd’s silence and earned a hearty serving of boos.

Suddenly those boos were drowned out by cheers as a sobbing Sally climbed up the ring apron and ran along it towards Tockwell with fury in her eyes!

But, Jake had seen her coming and the cheers were quickly extinguished when he effectively stopped her by bending down and grabbing a handful of her hair! Tockwell mocked Sally’s sobbing as she stood on the ring apron and thrashed to get free from his grip. Jake’s playfulness quickly changed though when Sally was able to scratch him on the arm with one of her flailing hands deep enough to draw blood.

Then in a fit of rage, Tockwell clenched down tighter on the handful of hair he had her by before throwing her off the apron, causing her to crash into the barricade!

An audible “Oooo…” was heard from the live audience as they watched the replay of Sally’s head bouncing off of the barricade in slow motion, before thunderous boos erupted as Tockwell pointed down to the sprawled out Sally and burst out in laughter!

Jake was enjoying himself so much that he failed to see that below him Brock had forced himself up to his knees, and now was staring up at Tockwell with pure hate in his eyes.The battered Newbludd tried to stand up, but couldn’t find the strength so instead he lunged upwards towards the unsuspecting Big Talk and shot his arm between Jake’s legs…

Boos turned to cheers in an instant when a roaring Newbludd pulled the surprised Tockwell off of the second rope and rolled him up with a school boy!

ONE!

TWO!

THRE--NO! Tockwell kicked out with authority, sending Brock flying off of him to crash back down to the mat!

The injured Newbludd caught Big Talk off guard and almost stole the win! Being angered by almost losing to a quick pin, which in a twist of irony he was a master of, Tockwell slammed his fist into the mat and hopped back up to his feet. A few feet away from him, Brock laid on his back with both arms covering his ribs, looking dead to the world.

Stomping over to motionless Newbludd, Jake grabbed the champion by his hair to stand him up, but was stopped and sent stumbling backwards by a desperate looking punch from Newbludd that hit Big Talk right in the nose!

Hitting the mat once again from being dropped by Big Talk, Brock rolled onto his stomach and valiantly tried to push himself up as the crowd urged him on. Quickly shaking off the punch from his weakened opponent, Jake stomped over again and grabbed Newbludd by the head to try and pick him up for a second time…

Small package by Newbludd!

ONE!

TWO!

Kickout by Tockwell!

Sitting up after kicking out, Jake vehemently shook his head in disbelief at the defending champion’s resourcefulness before getting back up to his feet.

Once again struggling to push himself up, Newbludd groaned as he propped himself up onto his knees and elbows. Not wanting to take another chance with being caught in another quick pin, Tockwell bounced off the ropes and implanted Newbludd back down with a big time leaping elbow drop!

The Blitzkrieg champion resembled a fish out of water as he laid on his belly and gulped for air, with each breath causing more pain to his injured ribs. Standing back up, Tockwell gave Brock a series of swift kicks before bouncing off the ropes again to deliver another stiff elbow.

Rising up once again, Tockwell spun around in a circle with arms spread wide to soak in more jeers, before arrogantly walking over to the ropes and hopping out of the ring.

Making his way over to the timekeepers table, Jake pushed Brent Williams out of his chair just for the pure enjoyment of it before snatching up the Blitzkrieg title off of the table. Quickly rolling back into the ring, Jake walked back over to Brock to stand over him.

Raising the title dramatically over his head, Jake smiled menacingly down at the belt’s current owner before swinging downwards to crack him with the belt!

Brock’s feet kicked in agony, and Tockwell smoked him with the belt again before throwing it down to the mat.

Then Jake decided to turn things up a notch.

With the writhing Newbludd still between his legs, Tockwell bent over and began ripping off Brock’s bandages! Jake easily fended off Brock’s attempts to stop him while he ignored Jerry’s pleas for him to stop and it didn’t take long for Big Talk to completely remove all of the bandages.

Upon revealing Newbludd’s injured ribs, Tockwell twisted his face in disgust and Jerry’s jaw dropped. Even though Newbludd held his arms at his sides, it was quite easy to see that the entirety of his left side, from armpit to hip was colored a sickly hue of green and purple.

As ghastly as Newbludd’s side look, Tockwell showed no signs of remorse as he flipped the Blitzkrieg title over so that the metal plate was facing up before standing over Newbludd again. Reaching down, Big Talk showed impressive strength by wrapping his arms around Brock’s waist to pull him up.

Keeping his grip around the limp Newbludd’s waist, Jake let out a roar and lifted him up…

GUTWRENCH POWERBOMB ONTO THE BLITZKRIEG TITLE!!

The sound of Brock’s exposed ribs hitting the metal plate of the title belt was the only sound heard as the crowd once again went eerily silent as they watched it’s owner bounce off of it to now lay in the fetal position next to it.

“It’s over Jake! Pin him! Dear God, END IT!” Jerry begged Big Talk, and Tockwell simply gave him a smirk in return.

“It’s not over yet baby! Big Talk is gonna make this bitch tap!” Jake proudly said to the stunned Peterson before reaching down and picking the unconscious looking Newbludd to his feet once again.

Holding Newbludd up, Jake did a little strut before jerking him in close and locking him into the sleeper hold his father taught him, the OUT OF BREATH!

Newbludd stayed limp as Jake tightened his arms around Brock’s neck. Tockwell then completed the move by taking it to the mat and wrapping his legs around Newbludd’s ribs.

BlitzMatch1


With Big Talk squeezing the air out of defenseless Newbludd with both his arms and legs, Jerry didn’t even bother attempting to ask Brock if he submitted, instead grabbing Newbludd’s arm to raise it up.

Only holding the arm up for a split second, Jerry let it go…

And it predictably fell.

Seeing Brock’s face starting to turn blue, Jerry quickly raised the arm again.

And it fell…

At this point, the crowd was absolutely LIVID and they began to throw trash into the ring, which only made Tockwell squeeze harder as he laughed. Just wanting the match to be over, Jerry quickly raised Brock’s arm again.

As Jerry let go, the crowd hushed, still holding a sliver of hope that somehow Newbludd could muster up the heart and resiliency that made them cheer so passionately for him…

Newbludd’s arm fell for a third time and hit the mat, the thud cutting through the silence like a knife.

DING! DING! DING!

“Ladies and gentlemen...the winner of this match...and NEEEW NBW Blitzkrieg Champion…’Big Talk’ Jake Tooockweeell!!!” Brent Williams boomed out over the stunned crowd. 

This was an impromptu match of the highest degree and even though Jake Tockwell had a match already planned tonight for later, he had just won the Blitzkrieg title and ended the eight-month reign of Brock Newbludd! History had been made! The referee tried picking up the championship to give to the brand new champion, but Raul Ramirez wanted that distinction. Hot Sauce ripped the belt from his grip and pushed him out of the way to give the belt to him.

“You did it, Big Talk! You did it!” said Raul.

“Damn right I did! I told you all he was just a JAG! Put that belt on Big Talk, Hot Sauce!”

“You got it!”

Jake Tockwell soaked in the chorus of jeers from the crowd as Raul Ramirez fastened the title around him. Sally crawled into the ring to check on her boyfriend, but he was a limp pile on the mat. Raul grabbed his boas and gave them back to the new Blitzkrieg champion. After he had his boas back, he walked over to where Brock fell and wiped his feet in a disrespectful manner his way.

“BUH-BUH-BUH-BURIED!!!!”
 
Big Talk left the ring with Hot Sauce right behind him.

“Come on Hot Sauce! We’ve got a Number One Contender’s match to win later!”

Jake Tockwell and Raul Ramirez left and the crowd’s reaction for his deplorable actions made him hated! Brock hadn’t moved since he had been choked out by the Out of Breath sleeper submission, but Jake didn’t care. Tonight was all about his meteoric rise to the top and if he could defeat Warren Spade later tonight, he would do just that!

Focusing back in on the ring, Sally was a emotional mess and sobbed as she held the unconscious Brock’s head with her hands. Taking short and shallow breaths, the now former Blitzkrieg champion looked more like a man who had just been hit by truck, not beaten in a wrestling match. Which in some ways this was a fitting end for him.

For eight months he pushed his body to it’s limits, never letting his foot off the gas. Surviving the Blitzcage, Laddervault and most recently a Last Man Standing match may have worn him down physically, but he had too much pride to acknowledge it, and that’s why tonight was eventually about to happen.

When someone pushes himself too hard and go too fast for too long, he’s bound to hit the wall, that’s just how it works. Tonight Brock Newbludd hit that that wall, and it was named 'Big Talk' Jake Tockwell.

 

Pauper and Paragon

 

Again we had cut to backstage and the thousand megawatt smile of No Brand’s interviewer, Adria Hoyt. She wasn’t in front of the familiar backdrop, but somewhere further up the hallway where equipment boxes laid scattered about.

“God I hope Sally and Brock are alright." She focused in on the camera. "Please help me welcome a returning Mitchell Quinlan,” she said, dropping the mic a beat for the fans to show whatever type of reaction they wanted. This time, mild applause.

The camera panned back to indeed reveal Quinlan beside her. He looked dressed for action, save the hoodie to cover his torso. Ms. Hoyt had to extend the microphone up to where Quinlan was, sat atop a production case, sitting in a near-perfect lotus position.

“Merci, mademoiselle.”

Slightly taken aback, the French-Canadian blonde asked, “Parlez-vous Francais?”

Laughter. “I’m sorry, that’s about all I can recall from grade nine French. And anything that I have learned since then, surely, is not fit to quote over the airwaves.”

A short, disappointed pout later, Hoyt asked her first question, “What does it mean to get back to action, after having your first run in nbW cut by injury?”

His perfect posture slouched as his jovial spirit dampened just a touch upon reflection. “It’s a toss up, truly. On one hand, I am thrilled to get going again. There just isn’t anything like getting out in front of those fans. But on the left foot, I am afraid--”

“Adria, what are you doing with this waste of oxygen when the real story is over here?” The familiar boast of nbW’s favourite hateable, Zed. As the camera craned around to him, he was dressed up with white oxford and rolled sleeves, black vest, black slacks and high polished shoes. Half mask, too. Beside him, the other colossus, Rune.

“Uhm…” our host seemed caught in indecision.

With a huff, Zed marched over. “Honestly, why did the higher ups even decide to bring this guy back? I thought Xiang finally did something right when he tried to rip that arm off and beat you with it.”

“Now this,” Quinlan didn’t break from his place seated, “this is what I missed maybe the most. Can you hear that passion, belief?”

“The Hell are you on about, man?”

“The utter arrogance, the vaulting ambition. In your voice, I hear a man set to take this world by force, prop himself up as king.”

“Did you get a concussion as well?” Zed asked as Rune swirled a finger around his ear. “Did you use your time away to go off to some third world dirt pile to meditate about the meaning of life and why you will always suck?” He waited just long enough to make you think he expected an honest response. “Just to walk away with the ability to see the future? Don’t get me wrong, you are a worthless bundle of spandex and angst, but you have got one thing right. It’s about time that I, the Paragon of this Industry rise up to prominence. This is the year that I am crowned, that I win everything.

The fantastic interviewer she was, Hoyt held the mic up to Zed for his undoubted expounding.

“It starts, of course, with 25 to Life. But from there, I will finally get that headlining spot these people have been too stupid and blind to give me. But don’t worry, dear Quinlan, for you I reserve the right to be my first victim in this year of our Lord 2017,” he punctuated each word with a poke to the previously injured shoulder of Quinlan. “While you,” eye lasers to Hoyt, “wasted my time standing here with this,” look of disgust toward Quinlan, “I thought I heard you were actually afraid to be back here. Well, tonight? I prove to you that you were right to be afraid.”

Smug as ever, Zed led Rune away, seemingly to get ready for the match he just made.

Quinlan let a smile creep across his face as he motioned for Hoyt to raise the microphone back toward him. “I was afraid at the notion that this body, all of 29 years old, was breaking down on me. I was afraid that I would never get that rush of energy the faithful pour into that squared circle every damned time. Like somehow I hadn’t yet given back everything to them that they had given to me. But now?" He slapped at the shoulder, "Now I am just afraid that I am set to build an effigy to this all.”

Adria gave him a puzzled look, not quite getting his metaphor.

Hopping back to the floor, Quinlan hoped his final words would lend clearer meaning. “Time to burn this mother to the ground.”

 

PAID ADVERT BREAK HERE

 

Making Enemies Left and Right

 

“Move it! Get out of the way!”

“That’s right! Big Talk and the Hot Sauce comin’ through!”

Several people backstage were being shoved aside by two men partying down backstage with bubbly! The NEW Blitzkrieg champion “Big Talk” Jake Tockwell and his manager, “Hot Sauce” Raul Ramirez were both enjoying bottles of champagne after what could be called the “crime of the century” after goading the injured Brock Newbludd into putting his title on the line.

“Want some?” asked Big Talk.

Referee Simon Brack held out a hand at a bottle.

“Win a title you dumb zebra! Ahahahahaha!!!”

Raul Ramirez high fived him.

“Way to go, Big Talk! Zing a bitch!”

Big Talk, Hot Sauce and the Blitzkrieg title were all now strutting down the hallway until they walked right into the path of a man both had dealings with in the past.

“The Colossus” Spike Saunders!

Big Talk looked up at the Colossus and flashed his championship that was still around his waist.

“What’s up Spike?” asked Big Talk. “Come to gawk at what a real champion looks like?”

Raul Ramirez had plenty of history with Spike Saunders as well, back from their ACW days.

“Hey, remember me, Spike?” asked Raul. “I was Fever Pitch in the Night Life. Me and Kaus took the ACW Tag titles from you and Callie Urban, but who’s counting? Good times, am I right?”

Spike looked at the both of them.

“First off … “ said Spike. “I do remember you, Fever Pitch or Raul or whoever you are these days. You were a loud-mouth toady back then and I see now … the only thing you’ve changed is your name. A name that nobody remembers, I might add. Unlike your fellow bandmate", he held his finger up in the air and followed up with: "number one! number one!" With a chuckle, "god I miss ZipZap."

Raul growled but Jake Tockwell held him back.

“As for you, Tockwell, I did see a real champion out there and his name was Brock Newbludd. What you did out there was some bush league shit.”

Tockwell flashed his pearly whites at him.

“Hey, I didn’t do anything wrong. Brock could have walked away and been a little bitch in front of his woman but he manned up. He got his ass kicked and I won this title when I was already scheduled for another match tonight, but that’s not a problem. I beat Brock, I’ll beat your big JAG partner Warren Spade for the Number One Contender spot tonight, then I’ll knock Derecho’s block off with a little Gift of Gab and become the double champion you all need here!”

Spike had his own smile.

“You keep looking past Spade after the mood he was just in earlier, then you’ll regret it. I've accepted that he's changed but his aggression is all still there kid. You’ve got talent but don’t think you can come at Warren when you’ve already been in a match tonight.”

“I’ve been kicking Warren’s ass ever since we were babies, I can beat that big JAG tonight! Just you watch! Big Talk always finds a way to win.”

“Yeah … like a cowardly bitch.

Those last words burned Tockwell and Raul Ramirez as Saunders smiled.

“Sooner or later there’s going to be a check your mouth writes that your ass can’t cash … and I’m hoping it’ll be against me.”

The massive Colossus turned and left. Raul and Jake both balled up their fists as he left, but Raul tried to calm down.

“Hey … let’s worry about your match tonight, Big Talk.”

“Yeah.” Said Big Talk.

He didn’t take his eyes off the path Saunders exited.

 

Clan Strongbern vs Local

 

“What a night so far! Even though it is only SLAM, something different is in the air.” Gains started to gloat, “perhaps it’s the fact Spade failed to beat Derecho at PRIDE?”

“Or maybe it’s the fact that the Champions all retained?” Melissa added. “No easy feat either.”

‘Hey Kids’ by JET.

“Here come the whiners.” Gains remarked while the fans started to cheer. The curtains parted and out stepped the biggest man in town, along with his cohort. “For The Win finally look dominating!”

“HAHAHA. YOU ALL REALLY THOUGHT THAT THOSE LITTLE MEN WOULD BE HERE TONIGHT?”

Big Rick Strongbern soaked in the jeers and booing as he walked across the stage and stood at the center.

“ONE’S A LAME DUCK AND THE OTHER HAS HAD HIS FEATHER PLUCKED.”

Little Ricky looked at Big Rick’s statement, trying to make sense of it.

“SHUT UP!” Rick yelled to the crowd. “TONIGHT THE STRONGBERNS ARE GOING TO MAKE A POINT. A POINT LIKE I SHOULD BE THE NUMBER ONE CONTENDER OF ALL.”

“We had it in the bag until Reyes got involved and cheated.” commented Little Ricky.

“I HAD AN ACE. I ALWAYS HAVE A PLAN! SO MR. PLAN, GET OUT HERE!”

'Extinction' by Kyueko.

For the fans in attendance familiar with the PULSE brand over the past years, that music could only mean one person. The one that injected his involvement at PRIDE. Rik Bonebreaker.

He stepped out and approached the two, casting an eye down at the ring then turning his focus up to the scowl of Little Ricky.

“Cat got your tongue, Tiny? Oh wait, maybe it’s bitch? How’s that bitch of yours doing?” He smirked and nearly got clocked if not for Big Rick stepping between the two.

“ENOUGH OF THAT. WE’RE A CLAN NOW. CLAN STRONGBERNS. NO BITCHES ALLOWED.” Big Rick stated with straight-forward authority.

“So I gotta go by Rik Strongbern now?”

“HELL NO! WE CAN’T HAVE THREE RICK STRONGBERNS, THAT’S CONFUSING AS FUCK!” He argued, the irony of the statement apparently lost on him. “BONEBREAKER’S A SWEET NAME, SO HOW ABOUT THIS… NOW, YOU’RE RIK BONEBREAKER-STRONGBERN! YOU LIKE THAT?”

“I do,” returned Rik Bonebreaker-Strongbern.

Little Ricky snickered from behind the two, and murmured. “Hyphenating like a bitch.”

Rik spun around and looked up at the tallest Strongbern, “What’d you say?”

“ENOUGH OF THAT I SAID! WE’RE NOW THREE TO NEWSHIT’S TINY ONE.” Rick gloated once more, “WE’RE A UNITED FRONT NOW! WE’RE GONNA BE CHAMPIONS AND WE’RE GONNA START BY FUCKING UP THESE LITTLE BITCHES IN THE RING!”

The three made their way down the ramp to the ring where their opponents were a trio of St. Louis natives already ready for action!

“The following is a six-man tag team match set for one fall!” announced Brent Williams. “Standing in the ring already at a combined weight of 600 pounds… they are the team of JAMES RICHARDS, SCOTT AND SCOTT STEVENS!

Scott and Scott Stevens were a local tag team of brothers in the area with James Richards being an indy veteran as well. The three raised their hands in unison to the announcement and got a cheer from the crowd before the bell rang.

DING DING DING!

The first time that James Richards turned over, he was face to face with the 6’8” and 315-pound Rik Bonebreaker-Strongbern…

BAM!

…And there WENT James Richards!

The newest member of Clan Strongbern ran right through the 215-pounder with an EXPLOSIVE Running Shoulder Block!

Scott and Scoot Stevens cringed from their side of the ring as Rik marched over to where James had landed and picked him up with one hand. He moved him over to the corner and raised his hands before setting him up…

WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM!

Eight VICIOUS Corner Clotheslines turned James Richards into mush as he crumbled in the corner and Rik marched around like a lion that had just killed its prey.  He grabbed James’s lifeless body and threw him over to the corner in front of either Scott or Scoot.

“Tag,” was all Rik said.

Scott and Scoot exchanged worried glances at one another and neither man was necessarily wanting a piece of the newest weapon in the Strongbern arsenal. Rik was about to make a move when Little Ricky charged to their corner of the ring…

POW!

There were more BAMS and POWS flying around in this match than a 1960’s Batman episode, but that last one came from the seven-footer Little Ricky who just FLOORED Scoot Stevens with a Running Big Boot! He ate the boot and collided with the guardrail hard before crashing to the mat below! Big Rick was laughing at the damage his two monsters were causing from ringside and enjoyed the two monsters pitted against each other.

“THAT’S RIGHT, DESTROY! DESTROY FOR MY AMUSEMENT!” Big Rick yelled.

Rik and Little Ricky had a tense staredown and when they realized there was only one man left, Scott Stevens…

DOUBLE WHAMMY!

They both FLOORED him with a Double Clothesline! The referee Tal Nedrick finally ordered Little Ricky back to the corner and Little Ricky begrudgingly did so as he went back to the legal man James Richards.

CRUSH RUSH!

A devastating Running Powerslam left James Richards in a heap, but Rik Bonebreaker-Strongbern was not done. He pulled him off the mat and lifted him up into a Powerbomb position. Richards was completely limp when he scooped him up and then elevated him even higher…

SPINAL TRAUMA!

The Last Ride-style Powerbomb educed groans from the crowd as Rik Bonebreaker-Strongbern let out a roar! The Body-Breaking Behemoth then looked over to Big Rick with an extended hand.

“TAG ME! TAG ME!”

Rik nodded and made the tag to Big Rick, totally bypassing Little Ricky. The 5’8” and 226-pound powerhouse that thought he was a 7’ and 400-pound powerhouse climbed up the ropes one at a time and then stepped over them like the typical big men. Big Rick then pulled James Richards by the neck. He was limp but he was finally able to be destroyed…

HEADSTRONG!

The King of Strongbern Style dropped him right on his head with a sick Brainbuster and that was that.

One.

Two.

Three.

Big Rick threw Richards’ limp leg aside. He stood up and nodded to Little Ricky and Rik.

“HEY! RAISE MY HANDS! NOW!”

Little Ricky and Big Rick were about to do so, but Scott Stevens ran into the ring and tried to attack Little Ricky for what he just did…

NO!

Ricky blocked the punch and grabbed his throat…

LITTLEST GIANT CHOKESLAM!

He threw him up incredibly high in the air and slammed him down huge! As if that weren’t bad enough, Rik saw what he did and didn’t want to give Little Ricky the satisfaction of the last word. He pried Scott off the mat and held him up. He dropped him across his back with a Rib Breaker and then held on. He spun around and THREW Scott over the ropes!

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHH!”

The crowd groaned from the force of the throw! Rik looked happy with the damage he caused and turned over to Little Ricky as if to say “anything you can do, I can do better.” Little Ricky was about to do something but Big Rick got in the middle.

“ENOUGH! ENOUGH! I WIN! YOU WIN! WE ALL WIN! NOW LET’S GET SOME FUCKING FOOD!”

“I Will Be Heard” by Hatebreed played as the three Strongberns both exited the ring. Little Ricky, Rik and Big Rick were dominant tonight and if Big Rick could keep the two monsters in check, that could mean big things for his future in nbW.  

 

PAID ADVERT BREAK HERE

 

Neither Fall Nor Fail

 

As nbW returned from a commercial break, Xiang and his 7'2 skyscraper of a sidekick, The Great Wall, were stood in the squared circle.

"Me and The Giant Wall have been the proverbial punch bag for too long," Xiang stated, rather frankly.

"We have let inferior beings defeat us far too regularly.  Therefore, we've made some crucial adjustments and we are keen to put these to test.

"Before I honour you with seeing the new and improved Xiang in action, my fellow countryman and the BIGGEST man in nbW."  That drew boos, mainly because it wasn't true.  While The Great Wall was a legitimate 7'2, Spike Saunders, probably the most popular performer in this promotion's history, was actually an inch taller.

XiangGreatWall


"I repeat...the BIGGEST man in nbW has been pumping iron, dining in fine restaurants and generally getting back to the form, physically and otherwise, us Chinese were accustomed to seeing him in and that is an exciting prospect for yours truly and an ominous one for all of you and your heroes."

"We represent the BIGGEST country in the world...that you can't deny."  Melissa and Gains got into the size v population argument at the commentary desk with our play-by-play gal correctly arguing Russia was greater in size.

"Therefore, we can't be losing to Canadians...we don't need to be told that's unacceptable.  We have been set high standards...and will not fall nor will we fail."

"Let's start off by rebuilding The Great Wall and we'll do that as of next week."

How and who against? 

Slam 87 in a fortnight's time will provide the answer.

 

Extreme Makeover: EZ Blaze Edition

 

The scene opened to the backstage locker room with “The Monster of the Mid-South” Warren Spade finishing getting ready for his match with his years-old rival from his Memphis days, ‘Big Talk” Jake Tockwell. He was lacing up his massive boot and next to him was Fenton Woods checking the time on his cell phone.

“Where’s the kid at?” asked Fenton. “He was supposed to be here by now.”

He looked at Warren who didn’t answer. He was lost in thought after what happened earlier when he laid a deserved beatdown on the NBW World champion Derecho.

“War? You okay?” asked Fenton. “I know we haven’t really talked that much about what happened at Pride since right after it happened …”

“I don’t like this, Fenton.”

Spade turned his head up at his manager.

“You can’t control what Derecho did,” said Warren, “but we’ve gone over this already. What happened with you showing up wasn’t your fault. I struck you on accident. That was my fault and Derecho took advantage of the chaos like the piece of garbage he is.”

Somehow that did not make Fenton feel any better about what went down. It was written on his face.

“I know, War … but I’m the reason you aren’t the champion now. That’s why I need to do this. I need to turn my focus elsewhere while you’re trying to win the NBW title.”

Spade turned to his manager in disbelief.

“I don’t have any issue with you wanting to take on a new client, especially Blaze. That kid is good. But you belong out there by my side tonight, Fenton! I wouldn’t have everything I’ve had in my career if it wasn’t for your guidance and now that I’m one match away from another title shot, I need you now more than ever.”

Woods continuously shook his head.

“No, Derecho is right. He took advantage of you trying to look out for me. You’re a monster and I’m a liability … and until you win that championship, you need to be unshackled.”

“Fenton …”

“Sorry, big guy. I’ve made up my mind. Let me work some magic with EZ Blaze while you gun for that championship. Then we put the band back together and we’ll keep working that magic!”

Warren sighed in defeat but he knew once Fenton made up his mind, there was no turning back.

“Fine.” said Warren. “I'll try to stay out of your way while you help Blaze out. But if Derecho even thinks about coming after you or him, I won’t just take his championship … I’ll take his head and mount it on a pike. and I don't care if Tockwell won a title once tonight ... he's on the chopping block tonight, too.”

Warren stood up.

“I need to go get ready for my match. Tell Blaze I said I’m rooting for him.”

Warren opened the locker room door and as he was about to leave, in came EZ Blaze with his luggage, clearly late for the show!

“Blaze.” said Warren.

SpadeBlaze


The masked high flyer didn’t say anything but he did offer a handshake. Warren’s massive palm covered his completely when the two exchanged a brief handshake and Warren disappeared. After the One-Man Stampede left, Blaze shook his hand as if it were on fire, no doubt from Warren’s strong grip. Fenton noticed and laughed.

“Hurts, doesn't it?” asked Fenton. “I know, he’s crushed my digits with a handshake before. We usually just fist bump now.”

Blaze approached Fenton.

“All right kid, welcome to Fenton Woods, Inc! I don’t actually have a fancy name for what I’m doing here yet, but the first things first. This …”

He pointed at the current blue and gold full-bodied suit that Blaze wore with his cane.

“This all needs to go. Tell me, kid … do you like art?”

Blaze raised his hands and shrugged.

“Because kid, we’re going to show the world exactly what you can do in that ring! You make art in that ring! You use your aerial artistry to create masterpieces that others can only hope to make! That canvas is your … well, it’s your canvas. You follow me yet?”

Blaze shook his head “no.” Fenton shook his head.

“Well, kid, I’ve got the night off and I know a tailor that’s going to get you some new duds. In two weeks, you’re gonna look like a million bucks and then with me behind you, you’ll generate much more than that! Now … let’s paint!”

EZ Blaze’s head darted around the room. He still didn’t see the vision that Fenton had for him.

“It’s a metaphor, kiddo.”

 

Quinlan vs Zed

 

All the house lights dimmed before the LED ribbon around the EpiCenter II flickered to the drumline of Frontline by Pillar. In short order, the crimson clad Paragon of the Industry had stepped from the back and into the single spotlight that shone. The cameras couldn’t pick up exactly what he was saying at the top of the ramp as he gazed over the gathered masses, but everything about this entrance was to let the nbW faithful understand he didn’t care about anything but himself.

“This contest is scheduled for one fall!” Williams had the fans join in. “Introducing first, weighing in tonight at two hundred and sixty pounds! He is the self-professed Paragon of the Industry… Zed!”

With a growing confidence as the latex clad behemoth slid behind him, Zed marched to the ring, disinterested in the reaching hands or their chorus of boos. As the reached ringside, Rune was posted to a corner as Zed walked to the timekeeper’s area, barking for a microphone.

“Cut my music,” he ordered. “In case you people haven’t--” he got cut off when the short silence was replaced with the pounding sound of Digging Deep by Jakalope hit. Eyes alight, Zed tossed the mic and rolled into the ring.

From behind the curtains, Quinlan strode onto the stage, wearing the same grey and purple gear set nbW fans had last seen him in back in October. The grey leather jacket he wore was now adorned with a comical, grungy looking “Suicide King” image covering the large back portion.He made his way to the ring, offering fist bumps as he did.

“Hailing from Brantford, Ontario! He weighs in tonight at two hundred and thirty seven pounds! Quinlan!”

Quinlan plopped from the top rope in, and took long glances at his opponent across the ring, and his ‘insurance’ on the outside. Unzipping his cuffs, Quinlan slid off the jacket to reveal the obvious target; a patchwork of kinesio tape atop of that previously injured shoulder.

The two men stepped to the center of the ring, ready to go. Slim J tried to back the men up and call for the bell.

DING! DING! DING!

But overtop the diminutive official Zed had launched the first strike of this contest, a closed fist to the forehead. With Quinlan momentarily stunned, Zed followed up with another. One more. He’d walked Quinlan back into the corner, but his fourth punch was blocked, and Zed was quickly knocked backward to his ass with a strong shove.

Quinlan shook out that arm as Zed got to his feet, glowing with confidence early. In the center of the ring, Zed stood with one hand raised, and called Q onto the Test of Strength. Hesitant at first, Quinlan eventually locked fingers and the two struggled to see who’d be more dominant. It was all of three seconds before Zed’s sized 15 boot found its way into Quinlan gut. Switching into a wrist lock, Zed wrang out the injured arm before taking Quinlan over with an armdrag.

As Zed synched in the shoulder lock, the crowd followed the familiar pattern of booing, and then cheering when Quinlan worked his way up and out. It took one final right to the gut to force Zed to relinquish.

Zed tried to close back in, but took a stiff thigh kick. Again, Quinlan fired off his left leg to catch Zed’s right. Determined, Zed fought through the growing welt to take Quinlan into a waist lock. Quinlan was taken up and then back down with a simple wrestling takedown, spiced up with a slap to the back of the head as Zed pressed up.

Quinlan wasn’t given the time to get up before Zed had drawn a forearm under his chin and pulled him to his feet in a headlock. Q shifted to the side, and landed a few rights to Zed’s exposed midsection. He was able to back Zed to the ropes to escape, but Zed had grabbed the back of his tights and spun him down with a high angled back suplex.

Zed offered some boots to his fallen opponent, mocking Quinlan. Q was quick to launch a right from one knee. Zed shook it, and raised his knee to Quinlan’s jaw. Looking to snuff out that fighting spirit, Zed was again back to the headlock. As the crowd boo’d the slow action, Zed smiled so wide it’d make you think he’d found the way to flip you off with both hands tied up.

Again, Quinlan worked Zed back to the ropes, but held him there. Slim J wedged his way between the two, hoping for a clean break even he probably could have guessed wasn’t coming. Instead, with the zebra’s back to Zed, Quinlan got a thumb in the eye. Following up, Zed took him down with a bulldog.

Taking a moment to enjoy all that the faithful could pelt at him, Zed ran the laces of his boots across Q’s forehead, sending him writhing. Taking him to his feet by his neck, Zed lifted Quinlan up for a suplex. In an impressive display of strength, he held Q up there for five seconds before Q managed to wriggle out and behind Zed.

The crowd sitting on their hands allowed the thigh kick that followed - strong enough to sweep Zed’s legs - to be heard loud and clear, all the way up to the cheap seats of the EpiCenter II. As Zed looked around, trying to figure out what just happened to him, the crowd was coming alive as Quinlan bounced off the ropes, building steam for a sliding clothesline.

Rather than follow up this advantage, Quinlan allowed Zed to get back to his feet (gingerly). He seemed more interested in flashing a mouthguard-full smile, challenging Zed to truly bring his best.

As the two moved close again, Zed resorted to the tried and tested toe stomp to gain control. Taking a arm triangle, Zed dropped to his knees in a modified shoulder breaker. Not letting go of the arm, Zed wrang Quinlan’s arm again, and held a wrist lock. Knowing where he was in the ring, Quinlan pulled Zed closer to the rope. When it came time for the break, Zed used every last millisecond in that five count before shrugging, and leaping over the top rope to the floor, trying to hyperextend Q’s arm as he did.

The ref took a look over Quinlan, in obvious signs of pain, as Zed took the time to congratulate himself on the outside. Rune stumbled over to give Zed a short massage and pat on the back.

Rolling back into the ring, Zed peeled the official, Slim J, out of his way to continue the slow dismembering of Quinlan. Taking a fist full of hair, Zed pulled Quinlan to his feet. Taking too long, Zed was surprised with a headbutt. Quinlan with the second headbutt created some breathing room.

A dazed Zed tried to close, but Quinlan snapped him over with a short suplex. Holding on, Quinlan rolled into mount position, and rained in a series of forearms. Quinlan relented only to get up, bounce off the near ropes, and deliver a Shining Wizard. He covered for the first pin attempt in the match.

1!

2!

Shoulder up!

Zed was able to get the break, and rolled to his belly, trying to crawl to the safety of the ropes. He didn’t get too far as a focused Quinlan showed off a little power of his own, picking Zed clean off the mat, and then sending him back to it with a Deadlift German Suplex.

Quinlan marched back over to where Zed had landed, looking to press the advantage, but like the crafty ring general he was, Zed pulled Quinlan forward and through the ropes. Quinlan reached back to grab the ropes, staying on the apron, but grimacing. As Zed looked for his next move, he was met with an enziguri that pushed him back some. Launching from the bottom rope, Quinlan spun Zed down with a Tornado DDT.

Instinctually rolling on his belly, Zed just needed a moment to recover, a moment it was clear Quinlan wasn’t interested in give him. A Zed got to one knee, Quinlan grabbed him with the half hammer, half nelson lock. Zed shook his head, knowing what was to follow. Quinlan again tossed him across the ring, this time with his 7/4 Suplex.

Quinlan turned, crawled to make the cover, only to see Zed be dragged from the ring by the foot by Rune.

The tide of momentum reset, Quinlan let Zed back in. Extending a hand, Zed wished to show Quinlan exactly how much he respect his effort. Before Quinlan could make his mind up, the open hand went upside his head. Enraged, Quinlan threw a lazy haymaker that Zed easily ducked. Zed kicked at the back of Q’s knee to drop him to one. Bouncing off the ropes, Zed uncorked a lariat that sent Q inside out.

Zed next took Quinlan up for a Powerbomb, but Quinlan fought with punches and jerked his body, trying to hurricanrana Zed out of the ring. Zed took the momentum, and simply Powerbombed Quinlan against the ropes in a move that saw Q land awkwardly. Here’d be a perfect opportunity to get the pinfall, but Zed had other ideas. Grabbing Q by the neck/trunks, Zed tossed Quinlan between the turnbuckles. The force of Quinlan’s shoulder hitting the post saw him fall out of the ring, clipping the apron as he hit the ringside.

Under the ropes, Zed was now stalking his prey. Putting his boots to him, Zed guided Q up. He started forward, looking to bounce Quinlan’s head off of the ringpost this time, but Quinlan was somehow able to slip behind. Zed slammed on the brakes just as he was about to run into the post himself, only to turn around and be doubled over with a spinning back kick. Hooking both arms, Quinlan checked on the lumbering Rune, then delivered a Butterfly Suplex on the thin mats.

Quickly, Q pulled a prone Zed up and tried to get him under the bottom rope. Before he gets finished, Slim J was admonishing Rune to keep back. Finally pushing the 260 lbs of deadweight in, Quinlan climbed up to the apron and the ref quickly checked on Zed, who looked to be out of it. Before he could get in, Rune had grabbed hand of a foot. When he couldn’t tug the one free, Quinlan used the other to land a kick under Rune’s chin that rocked the big man. By the time he turned back it, it became obvious that Zed was playing possum, as he kicked the middle rope up as Quinlan crossed over it.

As Quinlan convalesced, and men everywhere empathised, Zed rushed him and unleashed a knee at head level. Quinlan was splayed out and Zed was looking to add a little altitude to this match. From the second rope, Zed leapt off with a knee drop, hitting flush with the taped up shoulder. Hooking the near leg, Zed made the cover.

1!

2!

Kickout!

Unfazed, Zed didn’t let up, keeping control on the ground and laying in elbow after elbow to the neck/trap. Quinlan was only to break free after the sixth elbow with an overhead kick. Zed had to release, but didn’t relent, riding Quinlan as they both got up. Taking his arm, Zed pulled Quinlan in for a series of short-armed shoulder blocks. After the second, Quinlan showed his wrestling IQ, sliding between Zed’s legs and popping off a Pumphandle Driver, held for the pin attempt.

1!

2!

Kickout!

Surprised, and showing signs of frustration, Zed popped to his feet and grabbed the stripe’s shirt. When he gave up his petitioning, Zed turned to see Quinlan. Quickly Quinlan had him in position for a Dragon Suplex, but as he left his feet, Zed spun out. Q immediately spun looking for his heel hook kick, that missed Zed by all but an inch. Instead of pushing forward, Zed took the opportunity to flex and show some dominance… then exit the ring to talk strategy with Rune.

Tired of the breaks, Quinlan politely asked the ref to stop counting and perhaps move just a little to the side. Little more. With a running start, Quinlan took aim at the two huddled and leapt with the shooting star press from inside, over, and out: the Fosbury Flop.

ZedQuinlanMatch


All three men were laid out, and the crowd appreciative of the carnage. Zed was the first to his feet, seems Quinlan just glanced him on his way to the bigger target. Zed took a minute to survey the scene, and liked the sight of Quinlan getting up worse for wear after it. He broke away for a little running room, then turned back full speed. In the last second, Quinlan leapfrogged the spear/spinebuster that found Rune’s massive abs.

Cameras were certain to get the shot of horror on Zed’s face, that was mixed with a touch of contempt, only for the shot pulled out when Quinlan grabbed hold of him and draped him across the guardrail with a Stun Gun. Zed tried to pull himself back up in the corner and couldn’t have liked the sight of Quinlan having leapt after a short run aiming the single high knee at his chin.

Both men poured into the crowd. The referee’s count was pretty well all but forgotten about. They both tossed rights, but the occasional left from Quinlan kept driving them further, and further into the floor seating. It was only the bell sounding that drew Quinlan’s attention away from the brawl. Zed took full advantage with a kick to the very, very high inside thigh.

Zed tried to clear out the crowd that had gotten up from their seats and moved to the action. Rune making his way through the crowd did a better job of it, including sending one ambitious young man to his ass. Quinlan tried to continue his fight, but Rune’s elbow to the back of his head left him for fodder.

Hooking Quinlan’s arms, Zed nailed the release tiger suplex on the concrete: ZNNIHILATED.

This match was over, and while it’ll go done in the books as a draw, Zed and Rune made their way to the back through the booing crowd with their arms raised in victory.

 

Something Got Your Eyes

 

The camera opened up to the doors of the locker room of ‘The Colossus’ Spike Saunders. No one was there to interview him as the door was open slightly ajar. The camera peered on the inside.

A hand pushed the doors open.

The camera tried to follow whoever it was that was in the door, but they were quick.

“You’ll remember me for this Spike!”

The intruder walked into the locker room and the camera followed to his signature sunglasses laying on his gym back.

He picked up the shades and pulled out a black container. He sprayed something onto the shades.

“Toadie, huh? Is a toadie capable of this?”

The man put the shades back in the case and just as quickly as he arrived, the man left.

 

PAID ADVERT BREAK HERE

 

JAC VS Saunders

 

"This next match is scheduled for one fall with a fifteen minute time limit. Introducing first-"

‘Bring it’ by Trapt.

It could only mean one person as the fans booed for the arrival of the Adriatic Gargoyle. Johannes Antonious de Castonovo walked out on the stage and scoffed at the fans filling the arena before making his way to the ring.

"-at six foot two and two hundred and thirty four pounds,  from Venice, Italy, he is the Adriatic Gargoyle... JOHANNES ANTONIOUS DE CASTNOVO!"

Ditching his custom grey hoodie on the steps, he rolled inside and took to the center of the ring and snatched the microphone from Brent Williams.

"Tu sai che io sono tornato al NBW dopo l'ennesimo grande successo nella scena di combattimento sotterraneo a casa, in modo da poter aggiungere più oro per il mio nome. Il World Heavyweight Championship NBW. Naturalmente per fare questo che significava partendo dal basso e guadagnare il mio posto."
(You know I came back to the NBW after yet another successful run in the underground fighting scene back home, so that I could add more gold to my name. The NBW World Heavyweight Championship. Of course to do this that meant starting at the bottom and earning my spot.)

He laughed and shook his head. The fans continued to boo him and now they couldn't understand him.

“Right, English... So as I was saying, I'd have to start at the bottom... think not, like I would ever be like all of you. I could use my smarts and take out the biggest and strongest in NBW, starting with that lumbering mucchio di merda Spike Saunders. So my first night here, I spiraled into his spine and hurled that sack of shit into the wall before choking him out. That, people, is how to avere un impatto, make an impact. Tossing him through a car was just icing on the cake.”

The fans continued to boo but JAC was having none of it.

“Tonight I’m sending that old fossil to the tar pits. And afterwards I will be going to 25 to Life, where I will be the last one standing and at Legacy the NBW Championship …” He grinned and gestured across his waist, “Will be Mine! L'unico vero combattente in questo settore, l'Adriatico-”

‘Spike-It-UP!’

"And his opponent-" continued Brent as he stood outside the ring, away from JAC with his own mic in hand.

The remix of the hit KISS song caused the arena to explode as the seven foot three colossus stepped out on the stage wearing his usual black jeans, grey shirt and shades. He tossed a first up in the air while using his other hand to wipe across his forehead. Somewhat slower than usual he walked down to the ring, often wiping at his face.

"-standing at seven foot three, three hundred and seventy seven pounds, from Beverly Hills, California, he is The Colossus.... SPIKE SAUNDERS!"

Once at the ring the giant grabbed the top rope and stepped up on the apron and over the ropes into the ring. Acting rather odd he bypassed JAC and went to the corner, tossing both fists in the air for the fans, then removed his shades and handed them down to Williams before hopping back down and towards the center of the ring where JAC awaited.

Brack got between the two and kept them apart, while noticing Spike’s behavior.

“You good to go, Spike?”

The colossus nodded, "I'm good, just ... yeah let's do this," while taking another swipe across his forehead and face. Both split off from the center and Brack called for the bell.

Ding ding ding!

Saunders was waiting for this and charged at JAC, who went low to avoid the attempt at grabbing him, swiping his arms at the legs to immediately cause the giant to collapse to the mat face first. Yep, he tripped him up. JAC immediately went on the assault landing punches to the back of the head before reaching forward and clawing across his face where his eyes were slightly red and cloudy. 

Spike popped him off him, and got up to his hands and knees, swiping across his face and going to stand - KO FLYING KNEE STRIKE! Straight between the eyes.

JACSaundersMatch


JAC hit it within mere moments. The very maneuver that won him all those victories as the Fighting Zone champion in NBW.

Grinning ear to ear Johannes dropped down on his back and wrapped his arm around the front of his neck and locking in a rear naked chokehold. The giant struggled to get free but each second passed the struggling was less and less until ultimately he wasn't moving. Simon Brack noticed this, checked the arm, frowned and called for the bell.

Ding ding ding.

The boos were intense. The Adriatic Gargoyle had just defeated the Colossus in less than sixty seconds! Of course the fans were upset and showing just how much as JAC forced Brack to raise his fist in the air, then he stepped over Saunders and jumped on the turnbuckle raising both visits up in victory. 

Brack bent down to check on Saunders, whose face was deep red, and eyes bloodshot. He called for the EMTs to come down, and in a rush a handful came sprinting down while JAC left the ring and walked his way to the back. A giant in his rear-view as his destination to Legacy truly begun.

For Saunders? Talk about disappointing way to start off the year and route to 25 to Life, having previously claimed his spot in the massive match.

 

Fussin' and Feudin'

 

“THAT IS RIGHT! BIG RICK IS BACK ON TOP… HAHAHAHAHA!”

That disturbingly deep and loud voice could only be one man and that was “Big” Rick Strongbern walking through the halls. With both “Little” Ricky Strongber and Rik Bonebreaker-Strongbern right behind him, he walked down the halls like he owned the place. In fact, one poor stagehand almost walked into all three until Big Rick read him the riot act.

“HEY! YOU! ASSHOLE! ONE SIDE! THIS IS CLAN STRONGBERN TURF NOW!”

Rik faked a lunge at the stagehand and he ran off like a little girl in fear of being ripped apart by the newest monster of Clan Strongbern! The King of Strongbern Style marched with his chest puffed out just a little more than usual after their victory over some local schlubs. He helped himself to a handful of peanuts and then decided instead, he wanted the whole bowl to himself.

“SEE? THIS HAS ALL THE GOOD FAT! YOU COULD USE SOME, LITTLE RICKY! YOU’RE LOOKING A LITTLE MORE BITCH-LIKE THAN USUAL!”

The former Tremoid said nothing and sighed while Rik Bonebreaker-Strongbern growled like a dog at something in catering at the other end of the table.

“HEY! HEY! I TOLD YOUR ASS THIS WAS CLAN STRONGBERN TURF!”

The people Big Rick was talking to?

Jules and Rafi Ke’ala! The two members of the group now anointed as Ke’ala Ohana were both holding plates of little assorted fruit.

“Wow, dude-bruh, you need to chill,” Rafi said. “You look like you should be at a Buffalo Wild Wings yelling at an MMA fight.”

“There’s enough for everybody here, hoaloha, we were just about to leave,” Jules told him. “Let’s go, Rafi…”

“THAT’S RIGHT! YOU WERE JUST ABOUT TO LEAVE, YOU LITTLE BITCHES!”

Big Rick did give up several inches in height to the 6' Jules, and the 5'11" Rafi, but he meanmugged them anyway.  The two were about to leave, but…

“I know YOU weren’t just calling us little bitches, midget,” Rafi said.

“Rafi, you don’t need to pick a fight…” Jules said.

Big Rick looked at his giant cohorts.

“YOU GUYS SEE THIS SHIT?” Big Rick asked rhetorically. “THIS LITTLE MAN FOUND A STRAY PUBE ON HIS STONES AND WANTS TO PICK A FIGHT WITH THE BIGGEST MAN IN TOWN!”

He marched right up to Rafi – one of the few rosters the muscular and diminutive powerhouse could look eye to eye with – and tapped a hand on his cheek.

“COME ON, KID, TAKE YOUR BEST SHOT! I WILL MESS YOUR SHIT UP FASTER THAN NUNES DID ROUSEY! I GOT GOOD SEATS AT BUFFALO WILD WINGS, SO I WAS RIGHT THERE UP CLOSE!”

“Hey! Do we have a problem?”

The last and biggest member of Ke’ala Ohana – Ohiyama – approached them. He walked up to Clan Strongbern and then looked down at Big Rick.

“Wow,” Ohiyama said. “You make a LOT of noise for such a little man.”

Big Rick chuckled heartily.

“OH! YOU GOTTA SICK YOUR BIG BROTHER ON ME, LITTLE BITCHES?” Big Rick said, looking at Jules and Rafi. “AND LET’S CALL A SPADE A SPADE, OH-HAI-YAMMA. THE ONLY REASON YOU EVEN WON THE WAR MEMORIAL CUP IS BECAUSE YOU DIDN’T FACE ME! I GOT SCREWED BY THAT FUCKING BLONDE TWERP, JAKE TOCKWELL! BUT I WOULD HAVE WON THE THING!”

“Then… why didn’t you?” Ohiyama said, matter-of-factly.

“Oooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhh…”

Rafi and Jules both laughed and gasped at Ohiyama’s direct comeback. Big Rick looked at Little Ricky and Rik Bonebreaker-Strongbern before turning his back to them.

“I’LL TELL YOU WHAT, MEDIUM BITCH… “ Big Rick said. “I’LL LET YOU THREE OFF WITH A WARNING BECAUSE I’M IN A PRETTY DAMN GOOD MOOD TONIGHT… WE’RE GONNA GO OUT TO CELEBRATE OUR VICTORY TONIGHT, BUT IF I EVER SEE THE THREE OF YOU IN CLAN STRONGBERN TERRIROTY AGAIN… OH, HOW FUCKED YOU WILL BE!”

Ohiyama, Jules and Rafi all stared them down.

“And I’ll give YOU a warning then, lolo…” Ohiyama said. “You want a fight with any of us? You know where we are.”

Big Rick and Ohiyama locked eyes before a smirk crossed Big Rick’s face.

“HA! LET’S GO, MINIONS!”

Little Ricky and Rik both followed behind Big Rick Strongbern and the three headed off in one direction.

“You know, I was about to kick his head off, bruh,” Rafi said.

“Yeah, okay…” Jules said.

Ohiyama stole a couple of grapes off Rafi’s plate.

“I know you would have showed him, bruh."

The three departed the catering area.

 

He's as Cold as Ice

 

Out in Suburbia, somewhere in the United States and that could be anywhere, a little girl and her mom are just coming out of their house.  Once she hears the ice cream van, she tugs at her mother's arm:  "Can I, Mommy?  Please."

"Jessica, I've told you before:  The man only plays music when he has run out of ice cream."

Both females are taken aback when they are stood in front of 6'6, Chris Smith, who bends down to talk to the 6-year-old:  "Jessica, your mom doesn't want you to have ice cream because it's full of sugar, preservatives and she fears you'll be hyperactive and keep her up half the night.  I understand her.  But, the van doesn't only play music when it has run out.  If that were the case, why would he be driving it in the first place?  It's hardly cost-effective.  He's wasting gas, he's definitely wasting his time and his suppliers are probably..."

Jessica's little lip started to quiver:  "Mommy, you lied!"

Smith copped a glare:  "My name's Chris Smith and I'm keepin' it real...for the kids."

 

Dynasty Tag Title Match

 

At Pride, A-List certainly gained heaps of notoriety by presenting The Unstoppables with their greatest test yet.

However, close doesn't count and the most dominant of all units to ever step foot in an nbW ring, which covers an awful ground, jumped another hurdle in their quest to run through everything our thriving tag team division has to offer.

Before they could move on, like with The Rich Family, they had to put Principe and Price in their places again. The 2016 Tag Team of the year the Unstoppables were now set to defend their Dynasty tag team titles against the A-List in a Pride rematch!

As for the challengers, they had come close on pay-per-view.  Had they missed the boat or learned a massive lesson to get it right at the second time of asking?

Backstage, we see the duo of El Principe and VIP leave their private locker room and make the short walk to the curtains where a couple of guards salute them and march towards the ringside area.  Waiting there, and we're talking about a matter of yards, is a limousine.  One of the guards hands the esteemed individuals over to a chauffeur, who opens the door for them to get in.

Ridiculously slow and short, the driver escorts them for ten seconds or so prior to getting out himself and holding the door yet again, this time for the ego-inflated outfit to step out.

A red carpet leading to the steps is trodden by the twosome, Principe in front, and they wipe their feet again before the ring is graced with THEIR presence.

"Weighing a combined four hundred and seventy-eight pounds...The Crown Prince of Lucha Libre, El Principe and his partner VIP...they are A-LIST!"

Volbeat's 'A Warrior's Call' brought the baddest mofos in nbW out, side-by-side, straps attached to their massive waits.  They were no-nonsense, all business and didn't posture with overdone, elaborate entrances.  They were men on a mission, though without Oscar as their rapping manager or purple and gold singlets.

“And weighing a combined weight of six hundred and sixty-seven pounds … they are the Dynasty tag team champions!!! The team of ‘The World Class Badass’ Vic Gravender and ‘The Walking Tank’ Tyson XL … the 2016 Tag Team of the Year in NBW … The Unstoppables!!!”

Tyson XL and Vic Gravender entered the ring looking to continue their reign of sheer dominance as NBW’s premier tag team. They had fought off competition of all shapes and sizes with the A-List perhaps putting up their biggest fight yet! It was tonight that the A-List were hoping to make 2017 their year!

Vic and Tyson wereTyson XL, who got the fall for the titleholders at Pride, nominated himself.  Gravender contested it at first, but a wry smile by Ty suggested Vic was wasting his time and Grav scowled, accepting his face.  No doubt, he'd be in soon enough.

Meanwhile, Principe immediately stormed into the squared circle, possibly keen to extract revenge as he was the one who had eaten the fall in their original encounter.  Price tried to drag the luchadore back, but then...they suddenly linked arms and double Clotheslined XL!

Most men would've gone down...Tyson staggered.

A-List took it for granted that XL was on the floor and clearly forgot the former ACW kingpin was no NORMAL individual.

As they realise to their cost when they turned round and both got floored with a revenge-seeking Lariat by Tyson!

The celebrating had bitten A-List on the backside and Price rolled out, perhaps cleverly, effectively forcing his masked accomplice to start, whether that was part of the plan or not.

XL scraped the Crown Prince of Lucha Libre up, only to plant him with a fantastic Fireman's Carry Slam.  Demonstrating awesome agility for someone of his stature, Tyson took flight from the left side of the ring with a super Running Elbow Drop, only for his accuracy to let him down.

Or perhaps Principe was just that bit quicker.

Tyson was soon back up.  Principe scurried over to vacate the spotlight to Vic, tagging him in and the arrogant aristocrat made a beeline for XL, hoping to turn things in the challengers' favour...

Bossman Slam!

Well, that didn't work ;)

1...

2...

Luckily for A-List, the count didn't succeed either.  Tyson wanted to maintain the terrific start he had made in the form a Belly-to-Belly Slam, though VIP finally got one on the board for the desperate challengers with a shortcut...

BOO!

Eye Rake.  Elementary yet effective, young Watson.

VIP rightfully received an immediate warning and offered little resistance, holding his hands up, eager to exploit the minor breakthrough and make a mile out of the inch.
Price sped up, searching for a Hurricanrana and got caught...POWERBOMB!!!

One...

Two...


...There's Principe to break the count up with a sly boot.  Again, a minor warning was issued, though am I alone in reckoning it won't be heeded for a wee while by either A-List member?

With Principe out of the way, Ty tended to Price and whipped Ingram into The Unstoppables' corner with some authority.  That was merely stage one in a two-step process...

RUNNING HIP ATTACK!

Ouch!

Tag, no not The Amazing Gabriel, and here's Mr. Gravender.

Price didn't know if he was coming or going, particularly when the World Class Badass wrapped him up in a Full Nelson and pounded the spoilt brat's forehead off the top turnbuckle a handful of times (Face Paver.)

Gravender wasn't going to give Price a minute's peace and thus far, the champions were toying with their challengers, who hadn't been at the races at all.  They must be kicking themselves they hadn't got the job done when they had the opportunity.

Military Press Drop, greedily, was on Gravender's mind and Principe intervened, but copped a bullet in the shape of Price, who was chucked into the masked Mexican, much to the audience's amusement, forcing the luchadore out onto the floor.

Gravender came to collect and cashed in with a Delayed Double Arm Suplex, which connected.  This had been plain sailing for the champs.

In fact, although it could be retrospect speaking, complacency seeped into Vic's whip, which enabled his namesake to return with double the interest on the loan and take the veteran's bum left knee out with a wonderful and well-timed Dropkick that felled the monster instantaneously.

Principe, down on the ringside floor, was being screamed at.  Price implored him to get into position.

Meanwhile, Price kept Gravender grounded with a Front Chancery and shouted 'Bajo' at Principe, once he had successfully managed to drag the ultra-powerful Gravender into the corner and successfully tagged his partner in.

In spite of Gravender's scrapping, VIP had kept the powerhouse in place while Principe, entering from the right, wore the New York native down with two stiff kicks to the left leg.

Principe moved Gravender so he was in the A-List corner and hung the big man's injured wheel out to dry and kicked it once, twice and then thrice.  To his credit, Gravender took it, grimacing, and Principe, fired up, finally cut Grav down to size with a terrific Dragon Screw Leg Whip.

Principe made sure he pulled Gravender a wee bit closer to the challengers' corner so he could slap the Figure Four on.

Vic couldn't conceal his discomfort - not this time.  On top of that, when the official administered a 2-count upon Vic's shoulder touching the canvas, it meant the ref focused on Grav's shoulders rather than Price lending a hand to Principe for MASSIVE leverage.

Cockily, they continued to laud this significant advantage over Grav, terminating the low-brow tactic prior to the referee catching them red-handed.  In fact, the official probed Principe, which didn't really work as the Mexican barely knows any English, and just shook his head - guilty until proven innocent.

The next thing on Principe's vindictive mind was a Knee-Clutch Boston Crab and he cinched it in superbly.  Notwithstanding, Vic had enough in the tank, or his massive tree trunks despite the hacking, to rally back and steer Principe back into the ropes with his feet.

Nonetheless, Principe bounced back off the ropes with an Elbow Drop that missed.  Vic tried to punish Principe in kind with exactly the same, leading to an identical result and that meant Price was the only one who hadn't tried and failed with that move in this match.

1...

2...

3...

4...

5...

Principe rose first and stung Gravender with another arrow downstairs, but Vic returned fire with a fantastic right that rocked Principe, who had enough about him to apply the pressure with a pair of punts to the lower body once again.

Foolishly, Principe chucked all of those inroads away by trying to Irish Whip Vic to the right side of the ring, which was predictably reversed, and as he came from the other side, Principe was captured in a Bear Hug!

Wait...

Blind tag!  Price wandered in and a sly eye rake by Principe forced Gravender to drop the luchadore, away from the referee's attention, and Price, now the legal man, had one thing on his mind...

RED CARPET TREATMENT!

Unlike previous occasions, Ingram covered the World Class Badass.

ONE...

TWO...

T...YSON saved the day!

As the official ejected XL, A-List unleashed a double Kneebreaker and took full advantage as Price sat Gravender down in a Backbreaker Hold, the officially finally turning around to give them a count, while Principe came off the top with a Diving Kneedrop...

RISE TO FAME!

One...

Two....

Not enough to snuff out the ex-nbW champion.

The Unstoppables were two very very bad dudes who could certainly live up to their name, but the A-List were proving to be quite effective at all manners of the tag team game. Tyson XL was helpless to do anything other than watch the punishment that was being delivered to him by their recent rivals who had done a number on Vic Gravender in the last few months of 2016 in the lead up to Pride.

El Principe tagged Victor Ingram Price and now both men’s combined effort had allowed them to whip Vic into their corner. Victor used his own partner like a battering ram and whipped El Principe right at him. The wealthy luchador got an elbow in his face from Vic for his trouble and Victor was shocked. He also ran at Vic Gravender but the World Class Badass had given him a shove to knock him down.

“Let’s go, Vic!” yelled Ty.

Big Ty waited for Big Vic to get over to him. Vic tried to make it back to his corner, but already El Principe had snuck back inside and a chop block to the bad knee had dropped Vic to his good one. VIP then took to the corner and he went to finish things for good.

BLOCKBUSTER~!!!

A really big move from a really talented man! VIP dropped Vic with a big blockbuster neck breaker! Would that be enough to finally wrestle the titles away from the likes of the Unstoppables?

1 …

2 …

Close, but no cigar!

Despite the A-List’s best efforts in wrestling a tremendous match, the Unstoppables showed that they would be just as good at taking punishment as they were dishing it out to their unsuspecting opponents. Victor Ingram Price decided that the time had come for another double team maneuver so he tagged El Principe back into the ring.

“Andale!” yelled VIP.

The two cocky kids both took an arm and they were preparing to dish out even more damage to the ex-NBW World champion. They had him set up for a double suplex and they tried to take the three-hundred seventy pound monster over.

DOUBLE SUPLEX FROM VIC GRAVENDER TO THE A-LIST!!!

He was a very large man … there was no doubt about it. But he was also very strong and he had just suplexed both members of the A-List right out of their collective boots!

“TYSON! TYSON! TYSON! TYSON! TYSON! TYSON! TYSON! TYSON! TYSON!”

Tyson now needed to make the tag to his buddy and he was more than itching to get in on the action of taking out the members of the A-List for good! The 2016 Tag Team of the Year were all ready to regroup and when their arm went out …

Vic made the tag to Tyson XL and now all hell was about to break loose!

Tyson XL lived up to his nickname of the Walking Tank by hitting anything in the ring that moved.

One shoulder knockdown for El Principe!

And another shoulder knockdown for Victor Ingram Price!

Tyson XL was firing on all of his mighty cylinders as he grabbed El Principe in a fire man’s carry and then dropped him down into a big slam! He charged off the ropes and a big senton crushed him!

El Principe was left gasping for air when VIP tried to sneak attack him as he got back to his feet. Tyson XL blocked his attempt at a punch and then trapped the other arm. He fired some trapping head butts into his chest about three times and then used all the power he could muster to launch Victor across the ring with a huge trapping suplex!

Tyson was the proverbial house of fire with both members of the A-List now recovering on the floor. Tyson XL yelled and he pointed to the two men now on the floor as he ran.

TOPE CON HILO FROM THE BIG MAN!!!

With an incredible dive the two-hundred and eighty-six pound monster dove over the top rope and came down on both members of the A-List with the somersault plancha! Vic Gravender had the more experience of the two but Tyson XL had the mad hops of the duo.

“Let’s end this!” yelled Tyson.

The Walking Tank tossed the legal man El Principe back inside the ring. He measured him up and ran forward …

SCUD MISSILE~!!!

He had just knocked El Principe all over the ring with a massive shotgun drop kick! El Principle collapsed in the corner and now the one-man wrecking crew called Tyson XL was ready to keep the Dynasty tag team titles!

1 …

2 …

NO WAY JOSE!

Not the NXT wrestler. Victor Ingram Prince had just broken up the cover in the nick of time and now wailed away on Tyson XL to break up his immense momentum. Victor hooked his arm and looked for the moonlight drive neckbreaker called Hollywood Boulevard but Tyson XL pulled him in by the arm and struck him with the back of his elbow to the jaw. Tyson XL slashed a thumb across his throat and then pulled El Principe off the ground. He was looking for the XL Bomb …

“Hey! Referee!”

Tyson XL turned and saw his old partner.

Raul Ramirez?!?!

They were former stable-mates in ACW when they were in the Night Life together! Raul Ramirez came to NBW to try and manage his old partner, but Tyson told him he wanted nothing to do with him!

“Tyson! I can help you! Let me help you!”

The manager of Jake Tockwell wanted to originally manage Tyson but XL ignored him to go back to punishing El Principe. The referee had seen him appear but when Tyson XL turned …

GIFT OF GAB~!!!!

Like a thief in the night, Jack Tockwell had just run in and he clobbered Tyson XL with the meanest, roughest lariat in wrestling today!

What was the meaning of this?

Who knew! The new Blitzkrieg champion from earlier in the night had just laid out Tockwell! VIP charged and when Vic Gravender tried to make it back into the ring he had just struck him down with a running single leg dropkick!

Raul Ramirez grinned like an evil Cheshire cat! He and Tockwell just had Tyson laid out and that gave the members of the A-List the opportunity to end things!

THE BIG SHOT~!

VIP used some effort but the combination of his complete shot and an enziguri put Tyson XL down! El Principe with the cover!

There was no way the 2016 Tag Team of the Year’s reign would end like this  …

1 …

Vic tried to make the save!

2 …

But the A-List’s Vic cut him off!

3!

The crowd had been hushed.

There was no way they had just witnessed what they saw.

After many attempts had been made on the Unstoppables’s long lasting tag team title reign, the crowd had just witnessed history. They were stunned silent.

THE A-LIST WRE THE NEW DYNASTY TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS!!!

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” yelled Raul Ramirez.

Hot Sauce walked into the ring and grabbed the belts for the A-List! He gave one to Victor and another to El Principe!

“I told you both! Scratch your back and we’ll scratch yours!”

Raul winked and left the ring.

The belts now belonged to the A-List and as Vic got back into the ring they both got the hell out of dodge! Vic Gravender was beyond livid that their titles had been stolen from them in the worst fashion possible and by an interfering Jake Tockwell! But what purpose did Raul Ramirez and Jake have in this match anyway?

Questions we’d get answers to in time.

The reign of the 2016 Tag Team of the Year was just that – a reign that was now a recent memory.

Long live the A-List who were now celebrating on the stage with their ill gotten gain!

 

PAID ADVERT BREAK HERE

 

Going From Bruised to Broken

 

After the break the camera slowly faded into show fan favorite reporter Adria Hoyt standing in front of the NBW interview backdrop, microphone in hand. The normally bubbly and energetic interviewer had an uncharacteristically grim look on her face as she stared into the camera. Standing next to Hoyt was a middle aged man who held the same serious look in his eyes, head NBW EMT Randall Quest.

“Welcome back to what has so far been a very eventful Slam, everybody. With me now is Chief NBW EMT Randall Quest, who is here to give us an update on the condition of now former NBW Blitzkrieg Champion, Brock Newbludd.” Adria said stoically before slighting turning towards Randall who nodded his head in acknowledgement to her.

“Thanks for joining me Randall, I know there are plenty of people, including myself, who are anxious to hear how Brock, and also your employee Sally Renolds, are doing after the damage done to them at the hand of new Blitzkrieg Champion, Jake Tockwell earlier tonight.”

The man in charge of all the medical personnel for NBW let out a heavy sigh as Hoyt tilted the mic towards him.

“Well Sally, to be completely honest with you and all of the fans...I think you just described it the best way possible, they are both ‘damaged.’ There’s really no other way to put it. As we sit here and talk right now, Brock is being taken by ambulance to Barnes-Jewish Hospital here in St. Louis for further evaluations, and Sally is taking the ride with him.” Quest answered in a very frank and professional manner, though there was an obvious hint of concern etched in his voice.

“Randall, this is the second time that Newbludd has been taken by ambulance due to injuries he sustained in the ring. The last time being after the Last Man Standing match he had with Ravage at Pride...but something in your tone tells me that this is a much more serious situation?” Adria questioned and Quest nodded his head in an agreeing fashion.

“It is Adria. This is much more serious, to say the least. Brock and Ravage were sent to the hospital after Pride for precautionary reasons more than anything. While it’s true that both men had received extensive injuries after their match, the NBW staff on hand that night were able to stabilize them and treat their wounds accordingly. But tonight, the severity of Newbludd’s injuries were so great that his ambulance ride was of the flashing lights and sirens variety. He was in rough shape, and needed more care than we could give him here...and fast.”  Quest said and Hoyt pulled the mic back.

“So Randall, what specifics can you tell us about Brock, and also Sally, who landed hard on her head after Jake threw her off of the ring apron?”

Hoyt was digging and Randall knew it, giving an exasperated sigh he answered.

“Coming out of Pride, besides some minor cuts and that nasty broken nose,  two of Brock’s ribs on his left side were bruised with very minor fractures in them. While that can be extermely annoying and painful, it’s generally nothing too serious. But the only thing that could heal them was time, that’s how injuries like that work. Thus, that’s why he hadn’t been cleared to wrestle yet, he needed more time…”

Adria opened her mouth to follow up, but Randall put a hand up to stop her, knowing what her next question would be.

“But after the direct punishment his ribs took tonight, those two ribs both have become fractured. To what extent, I don’t know, we don’t have the equipment here to evaluate that and Brock was unresponsive to us in the medical room so I couldn’t get any inkling to know how bad it really is. The only thing I could confirm was that they were fractured. So, we immediately sent him to Barnes on an emergency basis, and that’s all I can tell everyone for right now.”

Once again Randall put his hand up to stop Adria from asking the next obvious questions.

“And before you ask, the timetable for returning to the ring is unknown until X-Rays are done. If I had to guess based off my examination of him...best case, and least likely, scenario would be six weeks. Worst case could be six months. But, take that with a grain of salt, because like I said, we don’t know the full extent of the damage yet.”

A silent Adria slowly pulled the mic back as she digested the words and the live audience was eerily silent in the background, no doubt doing the same.

“Oh my...um...well, what about Sally? It’s obvious that her decision to clear Brock tonight was influenced by her personal relationship with him. Will she be punished for her actions?”

Randall shook his head and let out a defeated sounding chuckle.

“Sally’s decision tonight was reckless, stupid and dangerous, there’s no way around it. But, the fact is Adria, is that she is hands down the best EMT we have here in NBW and far too valuable to be punished in any sort of way. While I’m disappointed in her actions, I won’t be reprimanding her. Besides, I think the concussion she suffered tonight, along with what happened to Brock because of her actions will be punishment enough.”

Adria solemnly nodded her head in agreement.

“Thank you for joining me Randall, I think everybody appreciates the update.” Randall gave a nod of his head, and walked out of the picture as Adria straightened to the camera.

“There you have it guys. 2016 NBW Rookie of the Year, Brock Newbludd...out of action for what could only be called indefinitely to start off 2017. We can only wish him a safe and speedy recovery. I’ll let you know if there are any further updates, but for now, let’s send it back to you!”

 

Warren Spade VS Jake Tockwell

 

It was now time for the match that Warren Spade had been wanting since Jake Tockwell set foot here. Tockwell’s apparent meteoric rise tonight had involved him already winning the Blitzkrieg championship in an impromptu fashion from an injured Brock Newbludd before this match was already made. Tockwell was so confident he could beat the giant Warren Spade that he wrestled twice, possibly compromising his ability to get this match done. But nonetheless here he was tonight .

Warren Spade and Jake Tockwell were old rivals from Warren’s father’s old promotion in Memphis when both men came up in the mid-2000s. Now it was time for an old rivalry to be rekindled in a new organization with high stakes! The winner would fight Derecho in next week’s main event for the NBW World title. Could Jake Tockwell possibly make the greatest leap for a rookie star ever and not only win the Blitzkrieg title and perhaps become champion? Or could Warren Spade get a second chance to undo what was done at Pride?

The crowd was baited with anticipation and when words appeared on the EpiCenter they went crazy.
 

MONSTER
 
OF THE
 
MIDSOUTH


 
Warren Spade was here!
 
“Into The Arena” by The Michael Schenker Group played and The Monster of the Mid-South was given a tremendous show of respect from the fans that wanted to see him succeed in taking the title away from the heinous Derecho. Normally he would be all fun and games with Fenton Woods but because his manager was now off to try and protect him from Derecho, it was open season on the ring! Warren Spade made a beeline right for the ring and for the jugulars of both his old rival from Memphis Jake Tockwell!

Warren Spade rose his massive fist in the air and unleashed a beastly roar that the fans returned with thousands of their own! The man had a two-year undefeated streak in NBW, had nearly lost his life to cancer, and came back from the brink better than ever last year to make good on winning his first major World title in NBW. He could beat his pre-NBW rival tonight and get right to the top with a victory if that was possible!

"All right, the moment you've all been waiting for! Welcome not just the future, but the RIGHT NOW of No Brand Wrestling!”

The former rockstar and former wrestler “Hot Sauce” Raul Ramirez walked from the back to bask in the jeers of the crowd. He raised an arm out to the stage!

“Jake Tockwell is better than Warren Spade in every way and I … RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAUL RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAMIREZ am better than Fenton Woods in every way! Please welcome to the stage at this time, the man with the gift of gab – which means both his great voice and his deadly lariat … Big Talk himself … he is your NEW Blitzkrieg champion which makes him the toughest man in No Brand Wrestling …”

Warren’s enraged expression didn’t change. He didn’t forget about Jake Tockwell’s part in helping Derecho injure Fenton Woods late last year and wanted payback but also the Number One Contender spot. Raul continued ranting.

“And he is the next Number One Contender! HE is 100%-JAG Fre! “Big Talk” Jake Tockwell!!!”

The Eagles’s hit single “Life In The Fast Lane” played and the arena soon became washed in a sea of gold! Decorated in black and gold boas, the six-foot five and two-hundred fifty-six pound loudmouth from Memphis basked in the all the attention he was receiving. He raised the ends of his boas and looked pretty happy with how unhappy the crowd was to see him. He flashed the Blitzkrieg title that had been strapped around his waist all night since beating Brock Newbludd earlier.
 
“Unde-damn-feated!” yelled Tockwell. “And a champion! That’s two things you aren’t anymore, Spade!”
 
The man known as Big Talk hit the ring and threw off his boas and Blitzkrieg title 
 
“Hot Sauce … hold my things!”

“You got it, champ!”

Raul Ramirez took the boas away from Jake Tockwell and the Memphis brawler entered the ring to much jeers from the crowd. When he entered the ring apron, Warren tried to run at him but Tockwell jumped off the apron to avoid him being attacked.

“Whoops! Too slow, you big JAG!” yelled Tockwell.
 
The Blitzkrieg champion continued to parade around the outside of the ring like he already owned the place which was very much his mindset. Now the Talk of the Town tried to step into the ring and ordered the official to back Warren off. The head official Chuck Radford had to do just that and it was a very very very tall order for him as the Memphis brawler entered the ring. He looked right at Warren Spade and entered the ring.

DING

DING

DING


But there was nothing more that Chuck Radford could do as Warren ran at him. Jake tried to hide in between the ropes to force a rope break.

“Hey! Zebra! I’m calling for a br …”

Warren did not care about breaks in the mood he was in! He struck Tockwell with a head butt that knocked him right between the ropes and out of the ring! The Monster of the Mid-South was standing tall in the ring now and he wasn’t going to take a count-out victory. He wanted to make Derecho suffer and he wanted to make Jake Tockwell suffer as well.

Tockwell was still trying to standing up on the outside after being nearly floored by the head butt from Warren Spade but the giant monster turned him against the barricade and struck him in the chest with a breath taking forehand chop! The blow was so loud that it could be heard even over a rowdy crowd and now Tockwell was left breathless and a big red mark on his chest. Tockwell continued to try and get away from the angry giant coming after him.

“No! You started this and I’m finishing it!” yelled Spade.

This was going to be one of the more quick Number One Contender matches in history if Warren Spade could get his hands on Tockwell but the Blitzkrieg champion was trying to run around the ring to keep him from doing it. Raul Ramirez tried to sneak up on Spade, but he backed off the second that Spade turned his head at him. Hot Sauce backed off and that gave Tockwell an opening to try a cheap shot …



Well nevermind!

Warren grabbed the blond braggard by his throat and threw him up against the ropes of the ring! Tockwell went flying into them and came bouncing back down to the canvas in painful fashion!

“No more talking, prick,” said Warren.

The Monster of the Mid-South pulled Tockwell and threw him back inside the ring. Just like when Warren came down to the ring earlier to deliver a Trample and the Asunder Bomb to the NBW World champion Derecho, he was going to do the same to Tockwell.  Warren was trying to end it now and didn’t even think to drag a foot on the ground to get the crowd revved up for the Trample. He ran.

“Oh shit!” screamed Tockwell.

He saw Spade running off the ropes and made a quick beeline for the ring ropes, but Warren was able to grab him by his hair! All that smack talk from Jake Tockwell for weeks was now finally going to catch up with him and he made him pay for it with a huge right hand to the jaw! Tockwell stumbled around and went

The crowd was booing as Tockwell threw a few more shots in the left leg to weaken him, but Spade fought through the pain and pushed him back again. Despite the best efforts of Jake Tockwell, the Monster of the Mid-South was back with a vengeance and buried four knees right into his gut! Warren then grabbed the Blitzkrieg champion and threw him almost halfway across the ring with a massive beal throw!!!

"OWWW!!!!"

Tockwell was not looking nearly as dangerous as he was when fighting an injured Brock Newbludd earlier – now he was in the path of a very enraged and dangerous Warren Spade. Spade charged and then delivered a beastly running splash in the corner that rattled the new Blitzkrieg Champion! He was then pulled out of the corner and then Warren put him into a belly to back position. Instead of dropping for what might have been a suplex, he turned to the side and spiked Tockwell down with a crash thunder buster slam!

Tockwell went splat on the mat and Warren kicked his body over to land his elbow drop on the heart!

1 …

2 …

No!

Tockwell kicked out for the cover and now that he was about to get beaten again by Spade, he took a powder from the ring.

Warren now climbed to the outside and he followed Tockwell a second time and the Blitzkrieg champion decided to hide underneath the ring to keep him from getting back inside. Raul Ramirez came back again and tried to run into the Monster of the Mid-South!

“Hey! Spade! You suck big giant meaty balls!”

That was his idea of a distraction and that apparently was going to be enough to work for him because Spade turned around and grabbed Raul by his jacket. He then picked him up …

RAUL WAS THEN THROWN INTO THE ANNOUNCE TABLE!!!

CG Gains and Melissa Van deart were barely able to get out of way as the man nicknamed Hot Sauce was hurled right on top of the table! Raul had taken his share of abuse tonight and was hoping to earn that 10% he got as a manager’s cut. Warren had taken care of him. Chuck Radford tried to get a semblance of order restored between the two men but Jake Tockwell was given a big opening and that’s when he struck Warren with the Blitzkrieg title in the back of the head!

Tockwell had made his career on being an expert opportunist and that was just another shining example of that. The Talk of the Town was great at taking cheap shots and openings but now he was about to turn the tide. He got Warren Spade with some effort back inside the ring and then used some time to get himself an advantage with a move called …

THE TALK DOWN~!!!

MainEvent1


He had spiked down Warren in between the ropes with a rope hung version of a painful DDT! Between the belt shot and the powerful rope-aided move this was going to mean that Tockwell could now become the number one contender!

1 …

2 …

No!!!

Warren Spade kicked out at the last second but already Tockwell was looking to put the pressure on the giant.

"Stay down, you stupid grunt!" Yelled Tockwell.

The Monster of the Mid-South did no such thing and tried to fight back against Tockwell. Any time that Warren Spade would try and stand, he was greeted with the sole of Tockwell's boot! He tried three times to stand and he was kicked in the face until he finally ran off to land a huge stomp to the forehead of Warren!

The One-Man Stampede's monstrous beginning offensive had all but snuffed out thanks to Tockwell and his dirty tricks. Warren was left on his back and Tockwell now dropped multiple elbow drops into his chest. After about five elbow drops he then stood up and used the ropes to aid him in delivering a big jumping knee drop right to his head! Tockwell made another cover to put the capper on an already fantastic night!

1 …

2 …

But with a huge surge of power, Spade threw Tockwell off of him!  Tockwell was no small man and was close to two-hundred sixty pounds himself, but Spade dwarfed almost everybody in NBW. Spade started to stand again and made it to the corner where Tockwell started to run at him to catch him with another dropkick in that corner!

Spade was staggered and that gave Tockwell another opening to run off the opposite corner to gather speed for another attack.  The One-Man Stampede tried getting a foot up, but Tockwell saw it coming and grabbed it over his shoulder before dropping straight down into a stunner-like move. 
 
Spade’s knee was jarred up by the move and that gave Tockwell another chance to strike.  He jumped to the apron and was already on the top rope when he launched a nice looking diving clothesline from the corner! That was more than enough to get Spade onto his back and Tockwell tried to steal the win! 

1 …

2 …

Close, but no cigar!

It wasn’t as strong as his previous kickout which told Tockwell he was wearing down the large monster.  When Spade was trying to sit up, Tockwell grabbed him by the leg and started to wrap up his arm around his neck …

OUT OF BREATH~!!!
 
He had to jump on Spade’s back but Tockwell’s biceps were wrapped around his throat! The One-Man Stampede tried to frantically shake off Tockwell, but his grip was tight.

was starting to come around, much to the dismay of The Rebellion and started to rise to his feet again.  He got up to a knee and rolled Tockwell around before he finally managed to throw him forward, dropping him on his back.  Spade was back up and watched as Tockwell hit the corner.  After taking a few seconds to recollect himself, Spade made another charge at the corner when Tockwell went low with a dropkick to the left knee again, sending Warren careening into the turnbuckle.   Tockwell grabbed him by the head and went to the corner, trying to roll up the massive Spade with a school boy while his feet were on the ropes!

1 …

2 …

NO!

Spade’s massive size gave him everything he needed to kick out!

“You retarded zebra! I had a three!”

Before Spade could recover, Tockwell went back to the sleeper hold again just as Roeback sat up and this time, the giant was looking a little bit worse for wear.  Spade hissed and tried to fight his way out again, but Tockwell had a tight grip akin to a pitbull clutching onto a leg with its teeth.  The One-Man Stampede finally started to get back to his feet again and snatched Tockwell, dropping him with a big back suplex reversal!

Both wrestlers were down!
 
”LET’S GO, SPADE!” clap clap clap clap clap ”LET’S GO, SPADE!” clap clap clap clap clap ”LET’S GO, SPADE!” clap clap clap clap clap ”LET’S GO, SPADE!” clap clap clap clap clap
 
Spade and Tockwell were both down and they were both now trying to stand as Tockwell held his back in pain.  Spade popped his neck to make sure everything was still in place before he also got back to his feet.  Tockwell was a lot quicker and tried to get the jump on him with another right hand, but Spade grabbed him by the head and fired a head butt that knocked Tockwell back down. 
 
When Tockwell tried to stand, Spade fired himself up and he leveled Jake with a big clothesline that dropped him to the ground.  He snatched him back up a second time and threw a second shot that nearly knocked his head clean off.   
 
Spade was back up and shook his neck to fight off the pain of belt shots and DDTs. Tockwell was snatched and thrown into the corner where The Monster of the Mid-South launched a successful corner splash to engulf him.  Tockwell was rattled and sent to the other side of the ring and he was again crushed with another corner splash. Tockwell ran off the ropes and came back like a missile with a  powerful flying shoulder block!
 
Warren was now feeding off the energy of the loud crowd and pointed at Tockwell as he tried to sit up.  Spade grabbed him by the neck and pulled him up with an inverted head lock.

MID-SOUTH SPIKE~!!!

Warren executed a spinning head lock elbow drop and kept his weight down on Tockwell! The cover and the chance to become Number One Contender was on!
 
1 …

2 …

Kick out by Tockwell!

Warren thought he could have pulled it off right then and there but it was not to be on this occasion. Warren had no manager at his side and Raul was still laid out on the table to the outside so it was coming down to both Tockwell and Spade. Spade grabbed Tockwell and hooked him up for a big move. He was going to end his night with a big move, but Tockwell grabbed his neck again!

He was trying to subdue Warren Spade with his Out of Breath submission hold but the two men knew each other well and Spade knew Tockwell was going to try and end things, but he slipped out behind Spade and bumped into Chuck Radford.

LOW BLOW!!!

He clubbed Spade with a low blow behind the referee’s back! Spade was doubled over in pain now and the Blitzkrieg champion laughed.

“Ha!” laughed Tockwell. “Got you now you big bitch!”

Tockwell threw off his elbow pad and he signaled for the end. Tockwell was now about to end things with his other finisher, the Gift of Gab. Tockwell ran.

WEST MEMPHIS TWISTER~!!!

With a mighty catch, Tockwell had been lifted up, spun around and tossed like a pizza before being planted firmly on the mat with the West Memphis Twister! After he landed the black hole slam Warren took a few moments to recover from the low blow by Tockwell. He rolled over to cover Tockwell and secure his spot as Number One Contender!

1 …

2 …

But Tockwell’s foot got to the ropes at the last second! Warren thought that he had the match won but the Monster of the Mid-South was directed to the foot. Warren called out to the official so the One-Man Stampede was getting ready to run.

So did Tockwell.

To the outside!

Tockwell went limp and rolled out to the floor where he was still clutching his back in severe pain. Tockwell tried to get away from the ring but the massive One-Man Stampede climbed over the ropes to get to the floor. However, Warren was going to stop him right then and there. He grabbed him by the head and set him up for a suplex, but as he got Jake up …

VICTOR INGRAM PRICE!!!

EL PRINCIPE!!!

THE DYNASTY CHAMPIONS BOTH TRIPPED UP WARREN’S LEGS!

Jake fell on top of Warren and cradled all his weight down on his shoulders while the A-List each grabbed a mammoth leg of Spade!

1 …

2 …

3!!!

NO WAY!

WAY!

JAKE TOCKWELL HAD WON FOR THE SECOND TIME TONIGHT!!! NEW BLITZKRIEG CHAMPION AND NUMBER ONE CONTENDER!!!

Jake rolled right off of Warren Spade and he couldn’t believe it! This was a monster upset of the century! Warren Spade had rarely tasted defeat in No Brand Wrestling, but tonight thanks to the new Dynasty Tag team champions the A-List, Jake Tockwell had won the Number One Contendership to fight Derecho in two weeks for the championship!!!

“Ha! HA! I WON! I WON! I TOLD YOU ALL I WAS GOING TO WIN!!!”

Warren was in shock, but both members of the A-List were on the outside of the ring cheering on Jake Tockwell with Raul! Raul and Jake had helped them win the Dynasty Tag team championships ending the long reign of the Unstoppables to become champs! Now it seemed they were returning the favor! Warren Spade sunk his head and hung onto the ring apron absolutely devastated with this turn of events. His old rival had just cheated him out of the ultimate opportunity tonight

“I win! I win, you damn JAG! BLITZKRIEG CHAMP AND NEXT WORLD CHAMP! UNDE-DAMN-FEATED!”

Tockwell was handed his championship by Raul Ramirez and the two men celebrated, but not for long! Warren Spade entered the ring again! He shoved Raul Ramirez to the ground and grabbed Tockwell by the throat! He shoved him into the corner! 

The A-List stopped their premature celebration to try and help their new allies. VIP tried to come at Warren with an attack, but he furiously grabbed the chair and shoved Victor aside.  He turned to face Tockwell but he didn’t see two more attackers into the ring …

WORLD TITLE BELT SHOT!!!

The blow to the back of the head came from the returning Derecho! No doubt the NBW World champion was irate after being laid out at the start of the night by Warren! Now here he was with payback in mind!

The blow rocked Warren long enough to allow the members of the A-List to return with chairs! VIP aimed at the leg and El Principe buried a shot into the gut! Warren didn’t have Fenton Woods and had no allies to help him tonight after Spike was taken out earlier with his mysterious eye affliction! Tockwell joined in…

He cracked him in the skull with his own Blitzkrieg a second time and stunned Warren! That led to the A-List members cracking him on either side of the head with a chair conchairto style! Finally Warren had been brought down! Derecho stood up over the fallen Spade while on the other end of the beast, Jake Tockwell had Raul Ramirez, Victor Ingram Prince and El Principe! What in the hell was going on?

Derecho towered over the fallen giant and raised his championship before looking to his opponent in two weeks! Jake Tockwell had won two matches tonight by becoming Blitzkrieg Champion and now because of Derecho’s actions, he was now going to be facing him.

“I’M TAKING THAT TITLE DERECHO! NEXT WORLD CHAMP! DOUBLE CHAMPEEN!”

Closure


Derecho shook his head and raised the championship to show Jake Tockwell what he was fighting to keep. He then left the ring and smirked at the fact that Warren Spade had been laid out in a role reversal of the start of the night. Tockwell and the A-List stood over where Warren Spade laid and Tockwell raised hands!

It looked like Raul Ramirez just picked himself up two more clients!!! That would explain why Tockwell had helped them win the Dynasty Tag titles earlier in the night! They had scratched each other’s backs.

And now, this new alliance was bathed in gold!

The A-List were new Tag Team champions!

And Jake Tockwell was now not only the Blitzkrieg champion but now he was the Number One Contender!

They were now the A-List Elite!

And in one night, they had just turned NBW upside down!!!

 

 

 


CREDITS

New Years Resolutions - Josh/Markus
Get Your Pride Back - Keegan
Taylor Smith VERSUS Ohiyama - Seth
Freddie Rich VERSUS Matt Haddon - Keegan
No One Cares - Keegan Alyx Norwood VERSUS Zhalia Fears - Dusty
Still Hot - Keegan
Rich Family VERSUS RAF - Keegan
Rematch - Dusty
The Rookie of the Year and the Talk of the Town - Gorman/Markus
Blitzkrieg Championship: Brock Newbludd VERSUS Jake Tockwell - Gorman/Markus
Pauper and Paragon - Mitchell
Making Enemies Left and Right - Markus
Clan Strongbern Versus Locals - Seth/Dusty(just intro)
Neither Fall Nor Fail - Keegan
Extreme Makeover: EZ Blaze Edition - Markus
Zed VERSUS Quinlan - Mitchell
Something Got Your Eyes - Markus
Johannes Antonious de Castonovo VERSUS Spike Saunders - Dusty
Fussin' and Feudin' - Seth
He's as Cold as Ice - Keegan
Dynasty Tag Team Championship: The A-List VERSUS The Unstoppables - Markus
Going From Bruised to Broken - Gorman
#1 Contenders: Warren Spade VERSUS Jake Tockwell - Markus/Josh