SLAM! EPISODE 87
No Brand Wrestling Presents: SLAM! Episode LXXXVII
Live from The Epic II Arena - St. Louis, Mo.
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.
Welcome to SLAM!
The opening package came to a close and in faded the Epic Arena filled to the brim with cheering fans. Signs thrust up in the air and that merch that were paid by their hard earned money, clearing in view for the drone as it shot across the arena. This eye in the sky still had no name but rumor has it NBW will be putting it out to the fans on social media to name it in the future. For now, you know how things go. Let's drop by the booth where Melissa Vanderart and CG Gains are ready as ever!
"Welcome everyone to another episode of the most must see TV on your Wednesday's-" Vanderart announced with joy, "two weeks ago the VERY foundation of the NBW was shaken as not one but two championships changed hands and by the end of the night we would find that those hands were together."
"Strategy, Melissa. Just call it like it was. The A-List STOPPED the Unstoppables, and Jake Talkwell put Brock Newbludd on the shelf!" CG added with his own joy.
"-PLUS Jake took down the so called monster oaf to earn his shot at a second Championship tonight, Melissa. Our Main Event will feature two of the bigggggggggggggggggggestt stars to ever set foot in the ring. The NBW World Heavyweight Champion, the King of Hell, Derecho defending against the #1 Contender, the NBW Blitzkrieg Champion, Big Talk, Jake Tockwell! That right there-" he drew his hand across the air in front of him for added emphasis, "is one star studded main event!"
"I'd ask you which one you want to win tonight but knowing you you'll just have one of your typical Gaingasm's, so how about we move on. Because tonight we have a lot in store for you folks at home. And it all starts tonight with a Keystone championship defense by the 4th Emergency Service out of Bogota, Ali Amore."
Keystone Championship Match
Ali Amore had always been a proud champion in No Brand Wrestling. But if ever there was a wrong time for him to be in there with the wrong guy, it could be tonight.
In spite of Ali Amore's pronounced pedigree, his wounded wing was primed and ready to get plucked by Darren Best's arm-based offence. Best had criticised his partner, Alfie Button, for virtually ignoring Amore's obvious weakness in their championship clash 2 months ago.
Tonight, the calmer, more composed and strategically-sound Best wasn't particularly interested in having a humdinger with Ali. He could have the combination to the Colombian's lock on the Keystone crown.
"The following contest is scheduled for one fall and is for the nbW Keystone championship."
Cheers echoed around the arena. This could be a cracker in its own right, even if it would take an alternative route to Alfie's challenge.
'I wanna be the very best."
And he could be tonight. We were used to seeing Darren play along with Alfie's antics, but tonight, he was all business.
"Introducing the challenger...weighing in at two hundred and twenty-three pounds from New York City...Darren Best!"
He raised his hand in the air, though focused straight ahead. There was no showboating, no tweet, no explosions.
Darren ran the ropes, talking, geeing himself up for what was the sternest test and an ideal opportunity all rolled into one.
"And his opponent...weighing in at two hundred and twelve pounds...from Bogota, Colombia...the Keystone champion...."
Dean Martin's soothing voice and the sweet chimes interrupted Brent's closing statement as the crowd erupted: "ALI AMORE!"
Amore strolled out, all waves and smiles, adopting a perfect pace to give camera-snapper a chance to capture the photogenic Colombian and over the years, the talented youngster had evolved into an experienced hand who knew he needed to preserve his energy in what could and would be an examination of what exactly remained in the worst-kept secret in No Brand Wrestling.
Ali still afforded us a somersault over the top rope, showcasing his agility to the hilt.A handshake between the two gains an appreciative applause from the audience and everyone was raring to go here.
Ding, Ding, Ding.
Just as time-honoured as the handshake came the customary Collar-and-Elbow and Best set his stall out early, assuming the lead with an Arm Wringer, lending itself to his standard strategy and also targeting the most well-known handicap in nbW nowadays - Ali's left arm. This was precisely why Darren felt the Colombian was custom-made for him and if the suspicion is confirmed, we will have a new Keystone champion here tonight.
Before we approach that, Ali reversed the Arm Wringer, though Best re-countered it and just as an Ali answer was imminent, they both went into the ropes on the bottom side of the squared circle and broke up way ahead of the referee reaching 5.
Another Tie-Up, and Amore was much smarter this time round, snatching a Side Headlock. Best backed him up to where they originally came from and pushed the champion off into the opposing set of ropes. Darren dropped down and when Ali returned from down south, his trip to the centre of the ring was abruptly halted with a delightful Dropkick.
Darren wasn't hanging around and intent on putting saving in his ISA account for later on. Just as eager as he was though, his more experienced counterpart retorted with fabulous forearm shots. Ali may have been lighter than Darren and possibly weaker at weight-lifting, that point was debatable, but what wasn't up for discussion was who had more potency in either hand when throwing fists. That favoured Muhammad's namesake and so it bore fruit for the South American star.
Only it didn't. Darren, despite feeling those blows, wrenched at Ali's arm and brought him down to the canvas. Darren was like a dog with a bone.
Legdrop to the left arm! In nbW, it is THE left arm at this moment in time. It is totally befitting of the definite article.
And a Cross Armbreaker was a move you'd expect to see Best pull out of his book of tricks and so it proved.
However, before he could really get the submission sunk in, the Superstar of Bogota had other inclinations and performed a back roll to alleviate some pressure. Best, a thinking man's wrestler himself, poured a cup of coffee on the Colombian's plans with a pair of elbows and a palm thrust somewhere high, approaching the armpit area.
Best, the bigger man, made a mockery of what I said a few paragraphs ago and shoved the South American back into the corner with ease and then took flight, Ali's arm well within his grasp...
Tornado Single Arm DDT!
Amore was rolling around on the mat. He wouldn't have time to dwell on it though, and I'm not sure if that's a blessing or a curse, as Best scooped him up off the mat and sent him back there, a round trip if you will, with a technically-sound Shoulderbreaker.
To make Ali exert more energy, Darren forced the Colombian to kick out again, albeit at one and a half at the second time of asking.
Darren decided to go back to the Armbar. Things were panning out perfectly for the pretender thus far.
Ali still had enough to bite down on his gumshield, go to work, maybe even war as this progresses, and march Best towards the ropes once again. Perhaps that strength I talked about was in play, even with the wounded wing taken into account.
Darren was delivered to the other side, Amore dropped down and when Best arrowed back at him, the Colombian executed a lovely Leapfrog.
Best, however, didn't play ball and bounce again. Once, he'd been hurdled by Amore, he grabbed the Keystone kingpin and wanted to take the former World champion for a ride with a Backdrop Driver!
Bulldog by Amore instead!
An elbow from Ali had set the table and now he could register his first fall of the contest, which turned out to be a straight two.
Ali awaited Darren's rise out of bed and timed it tremendously, jumping up and welcoming Best with a gorgeous Hurricanrana.
Best reverses it with a Roll-Up...
Not yet, my son.
A clothesline by the Colombian, who was also quicker than the challenger, redressed the balance of this bout, which had gone Best's way for the most part.
And, to keep The Entertainer there, the South American served him a plateful of Double Foot Stomp at close range. Ouch!
That would certainly aid Amore's offence as well. All roads led to a Frogsplash in the celebrated champion's head.
A groggy Best was coming around again. Mind you, he still had enough about him in mind and in body to slam on the brakes when Ali attempted a Snap Suplex. Darren's tactic, the same move, didn't get off the ground either. Amore's second bite worked a wee bit better, but Best escaped the back route and tied the titleholder up with a Full Nelson.
Amore, with a 223-pounder attached to his back, ran to the ropes more rapidly than most men did carrying only THEIR body weight. Nevertheless, he couldn't shake the contender, who caught the Colombian with his pants down, almost literally, with another Roll-Up...
There was a buzz in the air, presumably because the tempo was building with virtually every exchange. Ali slowed that down with a Side Headlock, no, hold that thought...
Headscissors by Best...
Ali replies by kipping/nipping up, join the pod, join the swarm...join them both.
Both men were on their feet, Best narrowly behind Amore and that told as the champion caught the challenger with a back kick to the ribs. He sped towards the bottom ropes like a getaway driver and performed a picture-perfect Handspring Elbow, forcing Darren back four or five paces.
Buoyed by that, Ali looked to add another springboard-based move, a Moonsault Press presumably, to the jigsaw...
Only to see it broken by a...
Best got him that time.
Did he have him though?
Darren didn't dwell on it, nor did he get hot as the likes of Freddie Rich and VIP would've done. He dusted himself down, applied a Hammerlock and slammed Amore down.
Then, he upped the ante.
That had got a little ounce closer. If the Backdrop Driver were 2.75, this had topped 2.8. Still, close wouldn't matter that much if Darren didn't have the title in his hands at the end of this outing. Fuck that, it wouldn't matter anyway! But, he was chipping away at the Colombian.
Two big moves had come thick and fast. Darren didn't neglect his assault on Ali's arm, holding it out on the mat to get two knees off. He was still piling up building blocks in case he had the chance to trap Ali with the Best Submission Ever.
Darren took another step towards it with another Single Arm DDT, settling for a regular cup with his Big Mac meal this time.
Ali didn't know if he was coming or going as Darren flipped him back over and paved the way for a Hammerlock Suplex for another relatively close run thing.
Whoah, Best Submission Ever looks like it's going to get an airing earlier than we anticipated...
Speaking of anticipation...
Amore with the Inside Cradle...
Worth a try, wasn't it? The pair of them returned to their feet, but an Armdrag by Darren demonstrated who'd enjoyed the lion's share of this showdown, up to this point at least, and...
Ali wriggled away, draping his left leg across the middle rope to free himself. Best, unlike others mentioned earlier, didn't push his luck and risk disqualification in the most significant singles match of his career to date. If it were a boxing bout, Best would be ahead on points. Pity for him, he can't clinch a majority decision and he has to knock Amore out or make him submit. Darren did have the credentials to do it either way.
Again, they looked at each other and Ali ran the ropes from the left side, though he may wish he hadn't elected to steam in with a Shoulderblock, stupidly hurting himself in the process...
Armbar Takedown by Best and next...
Beautifully applied by Darren and Ali was feeling it. Plus, the positioning was perfect and he had nowhere to go, though he kept on saying no. The hyper-extension added a lot to this already painful predicament. Not to mention repeated elbows by Best, who was showing somewhat of a mean streak here, all within the rules, in a compelling bid to take the Keystone title back to New York with him.
In many of the European languages, NO doesn't need to be translated. In Spanish and in English, Ali's repeated cries of this important two-letter word were heard, pleasing supporters of his, regardless of which mother tongue they possessed.
When it became crystal clear this submission, as effective as it was, wouldn't quite do, Best let go, stood on Ali's left hand twice after extending it and topped it all off with a rope-assisted Seated Senton, which is normally reserved for the leg, but it does as much damage to the arm as well. Ali would vouch for me on that one, especially with all of the pain Benjamin Jones, Xiang and Freddie Rich had inflicted to it before Darren Best, a specialist in this department, got his hands on nbW's worst-kept secret.
Darren draped Amore's arm over the top rope and hung it out to dry. Ali fell back, clutching his hindrance. Best wouldn't let him stay down and recover, hauling his ass back up for a Belly-to-Back Suplex and another near-fall.
Best whipped the Superstar of Bogota to the North-East corner, sternum-first, only Amore elected to get off the train first and was trying to outdo Darren with an up and over...
Except Darren caught him, garnering a cheer by supporters, and there was a growing sentiment that they felt or maybe even wanted to see a new champion. The two contestants are popular within this promotion and there was a split crowd, just as there was when Ali overcome Best's other half, Alfie Button, for the same strap several weeks ago.
Anyway, where were we? Ah, yes. Best had Ali in a Snake Eyes spot, but Amore broke free and attempted a Roll-Up, which Darren again failed to comply with.
As Ali recovered from his back roll, unintentionally on this occasion, he took a massive step towards Darren, and retaining his title with a...
Who better than Darren Best to see a Superkick coming?
And he did, catching the Colombian. But, even though he had identified that, regardless of whether he anticipated the next move was irrelevant...
Amore had such blistering speed in his hands and feet that he battered Best's head with a terrific Enzuigiri!
Best was motionless. Ali was mobile, very mobile, and on the second rope...
Rather than check in again, Ali wanted to go to the next level again. The smile, we hadn't seen that much here and with good reason, suggested that the Sat-Nav had reached its destination...
When he was poised and perched, Darren sprang into life and pulled the rug from underneath Amore with an amazing Avalance Armdrag that launched the 4th Emergency Service halfway across the ring like a javelin.
Best, a bit unsteady after a tough bout, whipped Ali to the buckle and kept him in the South-West corner with two well-aimed kicks to the arm. The third, a delicious Dropsault, sealed the deal.
Thereafter, Best hoisted Ali onto the top rope and accompanied the Colombian in his imminent descent. At least, that's what Darren hoped for, but he found resistance in the form of two Headbutts by Ali. Darren fell, almost immaculately, to fall prey to the original intention...
Only, somehow, The Entertainer didn't take it lying down. In fact, he didn't take it at all. He'd burst into life and banged the Superstar of Bogota with a ferocious European Uppercut, provoking shouts of...
I PITY THA FOOL!
And you had to feel for Amore, who couldn't keep Darren down. Not only that, he was about to go south himself as Best, take two and action, steadied himself in preparation for his Avalanche Moonsault Slam. Ali, he respects you and while not a WWE.Com reporter, honestly means...
The Colombian wasn't turned in mid-air though, kind of converting the intended Moonsault Slam into a modified Crossbody Block, complete with a pin...
Usually, you would expect a struggle with a Crossbody Block being turned into a cover. No, Best had hit his head on the back of the mat harder than we thought and was genuinely out, hence why it wasn't apparent and seemingly the reason why he was still lifeless.
Ali, who'd had his right arm raised, ignored the marvellous reception afforded to him from the crowd to bend down and see if his fallen opposition, who had given an excellent account of himself, was actually okay.
Best was looking up at the ceiling, figuratively and literally, but the lights hadn't been switched on. As replays showed, he had taken a heck of a fall.
Darren was still woozy. Ali and the official conversed as some medics emerged just in case their assistance was required.
They needn't have worried. Best started to stir, causing Amore to clap, and the crowd joined in. Two reasons: 1) Relieved it was just a minor miscue and scare. 2) Able to reward Darren for what had been a cracking challenge.
Now up and around, Darren accepted another handshake, a far sweatier exchange than at the outset, and a congratulatory hug. He hadn't won, but he'd caused Ali all kinds of problems in the process and could be proud of his performance.
Ali could now celebrate, mounting the top rope. It had been another good showing in which he was asked all kinds of questions, like Alfie had, albeit in a totally different fashion.
Darren had definitely put a significant dent in Ali's already patched-up left arm. How long before the Colombian would come a cropper? Or was he truly made of copper, iron and steel?
Ebony and Ivory ... Whoops I Mean Fire and Ice
The camera took the fans back to see the interview area backstage and standing there looking very lovely as she always did was Adria Hoyt.
“Hello everybody!” said Adria. “Tonight I have with me a pair of returning stars that are looking to actually make a mark in singles competition. Please welcome making their NBW returns tonight. They are members of the former stable Night Life USA and they are two-time Dynasty Tag Team champions! They are the team of identical twins Polar and Hotstreak!”
After the professionally-done introduction, the former two-time champions stepped into view. Polar and Hotstreak both looked as good as they did when they left a few years ago.
“Adria! You’re new, but I can tell that I already like you!” said Hotstreak.
“All right, dude, she can probably go five seconds without getting hit on … “ said Polar. “But if I do say so myself, you do look very nice. Big upgrade over that dork, Trent.”
She giggled a little.
“Well … thanks! But that brings me to tonight. I understand that you’ll both be in singles matches?” she asked.
“That’s right,” said Hotstreak. “We heard the leader of the Rich Family has been gunning after former champions and he mowed through Haddon, a former Keystone champion. So that’s what I came back for. NBW reached out to us, former two-time champions for a rare singles encounter. The Rich Family are a bunch of pricks so why not try to come back and knock a few chicklets down his throat? And also … I won the rock, paper, scissors game between my brother and I so that’s why I’m getting to wrestle!” he looked at his brother. “HAR!”
“And you, Polar?” asked Adria.
“Well, I couldn’t let bro-bro have all the fun,” Polar replied with a roll of his eyes, “because I have a singles match, too. Tonight, I’m taking on that really quick kid that wanted a shot against an NBW veteran, EZ Blaze! Good for him that he’s getting a makeover, but if either Freddie or EZ think they’ll be getting through the both of us without a fight, they’re wrong. We’ve taken on the toughest men in NBW. Warren Spade, Zed, Vic Gravender just to name a few. If we both win tonight, who knows what is in our future?”
“That’s right,” said Hotstreak, “Freddie Rich gets burned and Polar puts EZ Blaze’s hopes of getting the win tonight are gonna be put … wait for it … On Ice. YYYYYYYYYYYYAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!”
His cell phone was now playing “Won’t Get Fooled Again” by The Who. If Polar’s eyes rolled back into his head any more, he may have been confused with a certain dead man. Adria yelled over the music.
“Thank you both for your time and good luck in your respective matches tonight!” said Adria.
“Wish me luck on not beating him myself,” said Polar.
Polar and Hotstreak both dapped fists and thehy walked off with Hotstreak jamming to some more Who.
The Great Wall
Ant Rushton, representing the high-flying duo of RAF, had gone it alone this evening and was stood in the squared circle, sans Ade Flowers, awaiting the monstrous task that had been cut out for him.
"Born in China" by The Immortals brought out The Xiang Dynasty, who'd made a verbal statement last week that they were going to rebuild 'The Wall' and tonight, they hoped to make a physical promise with a convincing display by the colossus, who stepped over the top rope.
Immediately, Rushton ran off the ropes, obviously electing not to tie up with the seven-footer stood before him, using his superior speed and mobility to evade a Clothesline, duck underneath a Reverse Elbow attempt and get off a Dropkick to the knee that barely moved the big man.
He decided to aim north, cracking China's export with a Roundhouse Kick. He actually had more joy with that.
At the third time of asking, the Spinning Heel Kick actually had The Wall wobble. Rushton was gaining confidence and the anticipation among the audience members...
...suddenly disappeared with just one shot, which is all it takes when you're that large and loaded, of a BIG boot.
Five Stars Vice!
The Standing Head and Arm Choke brought Rushton back to life momentarily and now that fire and energy was starting to dim, the curtains closed and as The Great Wall squeezed and squeezed with urgency, looking to force an early stoppage..
It was night time for Ant and bell time once the referee had raised Rushton's hand three times, only for it to fall on every single occasion and hand Xiang's potential Frankenstein experiment as easy a win as he'll ever have.
The Five Stars Vice had ended it - and five moves were all it took from start to finish and three of those were on Ant's behalf.
But at 7'2, two moves can sometimes be enough.
If You're Not In, You're Out Part 1
A white stretch limo had pulled up inside the building. Adria Hoyt was on hand, just as she was several weeks ago, to welcome...
On this occasion, the normally suited and booted Dynasty Tag Team champions were dressed down in matching t-shirts. Before Hoyt got any words out of her mouth, Vic, seeing her eyes light up at what the front read (WE DID THE IMPOSSIBLE) turned around and showed her what the other side said:
WE STOPPED THE UNSTOPPABLES.
Price hugged Hoyt, and it must be said, he initiated it: "Hey Adria."
Principe was more cordial and accepted a congratulatory handshake from our host: "Congratulations."
"De nada," came the Prince's riposte.
And behind them were their new partners in crime! The men who were responsible for the A-List finally laying claim to stop the Unstoppables and winning the Dynasty tag team titles. It was “Hot Sauce” Raul Ramirez followed right behind by the new Blitzkrieg champion and Number One Contender to the NBW World championship – “Big Talk” Jake Tockwell!”
“Adria! Come to get a look at Big Talk and his big … championship?” said Tockwell with a sly grin. He was wearing the Blitzkrieg championship hanging out of his trousers in a very phallic and suggestive fashion.
“That’s right, look at it Adria, it’s okay to stare!” said Raul Ramirez. “All the ladies have been doing it ever since we all won titles this week! I am proud to be managing both The A-List and Big Talk over here!”
“Congrats, boys!” said Tockwell. “You beat those giant JAGs, Gravender and Tyson and won the belts! Finally we have champions that carb count around here!”
“Thanks, Big Talk!” said VIP and the two shook hands. Adria cut in to interview them.
"VIP, El Principe, last week, well the t-shirts say it. You did what nobody thought was possible and now you're the Dynasty Tag Team champions. How did you do it?"
Ingram smirked: "We showed the world what we were made of at Pride. We came this close," VIP indicated the small size by crooking his index fingers so it was incredibly close to his thumb.
"This close, the size of his chorizo," the Californian cheekily remarked, hinting that his partner was poorly done to in the trouser department. What made it all the funnier was Principe, who doesn't speak any English at all, was nodding along, apparently in agreement!
Ingram afforded himself a laugh and then leaned back, playing with his hair, before rejoining us: "So, there should be no shock. At Pride, we went closer than anyone, and definitely did a better job than The Rich Family managed in THREE title shots.
"Last week, we were the better team. Simple as. We're one apiece. Time for a rubber match? We know The Unstoppables want it and we don't fear them. So, we'll do it at Twenty-Five to Life. We've got no problem with that. In the meantime, we're going to take the night off, celebrate a little so why don't you join us in the tub, Adria? Get yourself wet?"
Adria was a bit embarrassed by that comment as Ingram stared down at her: "Or should I say...wetter?"
“That’s right, Adria!” said Tockwell. “And tonight, we add even more gold to our camp! Tonight, Derecho is gonna find out first hand that Big Talk is meant for gold! My waist is a magnet for both championships and sexy women!”
Adria looked disgusted by this pig of a man.
“And the four of you are now a group. You have a name?”
“We do!” said Raul. “Here’s your exclusive, chicky!”
Raul reached into his limo and unveiled even more t-shirts for his three clients. He unzipped his jacket to reveal the fourth.
“POW!” yelled Hot Sauce. “We’re the In Crowd! We’re the guys that NBW are going to talk about for years to come because we look like champions, we dress like champions, and most importantly … we are champions! We have the Blitzkrieg and we have the Dynasty tag team championships! Then tonight, Big Talk’s meteoric rise to the top will culminate when we bring the NBW World championship! And nobody is going to stop us! Not The Unstoppables and certainly not that big blind idiot, Spike Saunders!”
“I like it! The In Crowd!” said VIP.
“Bueno!” yelled El Principe.
The two men had their sparkling gold In Crowd shirts.
“Remember the name, Adria,” said Big Talk. “If you’re not In … your OUT!!!”
“And what about Saunders?” asked Adria. “There were rumors you were spotted in his locker room before he was blinded by something on his sunglasses.”
“No comment other than Saunders shouldn’t have mouthed off to Big Talk!” said Raul. “Now shut up and talk about the shirts made by Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrraul Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrramirez!”
The foursome looked very happy with themselves and their new partnership, but before they could revel any longer, Kid Chameleon and Paul Sanders, AKA The Players, came into shot and VIP smiled, specially when both men extended their hands. Sanders started: "Well done, we didn't think you could do it..."
"No, you didn't, did you? And that's exactly why we're not going to shake either of your hands. We don't know where they've been."
Deadpan, Chameleon dropped his sunglasses a tad: "On my Playstation 4 controller."
Ingram nodded: "Why do I believe that? You see, you're here for a title shot. You want a piece of the HOTTEST team in nbW. That's not The Entertainers, not even The Unstoppables and it's certainly not you."
Vic tapped the title belt on his shoulder: "That's us. When you beat someone, give Richie Keal a call."
Sanders pulled Price's arm as VIP turned to leave. Vic smiled: "Your tough guy routine doesn't work with me. We stopped The Unstoppables."
Price 'broke' free and waved in a camp fashion at Adria Hoyt. A-List had just mugged The Players off backstage, not to mention overcoming The Unstoppables on our previous edition of Slam.
They hadn't just shown the world that they were made of...
They were on top of the world.
"Ughhh … “ said Hot Sauce. “Enough of the riff-raff. Let’s get you laid before before your match, Next World Champ!”
Tockwell smiled and he looked down at his Blitzkrieg title still hanging out of his pants.
“You’re gonna look mighty fine with the NBW World title later!”
The Players watched Tockwell and Hot Sauce leave. Their issue with the A-List was far from over.
the Handsome Man Modeling School
“Coming up next, we’ve got explosive six-man tag team action, C.G!” Melissa said to her broadcast partner. “We’ve got The Handsome Man Modeling School trying to get payback for Ohiyama’s dominant victory last week! Only this time, we’ll be seeing the wrestling debut of his cousins, Jules and Rafi Ke’ala!”
“Oh, whoopee,” C.G. said. “We’re gonna be seeing these goody-goods handshake and hug Ravage’s boys to death.”
“Did… did you NOT see what Ohiyama and company did to them when they tried to fight dirty?” she asked. “They got laid out post-match after they tried to take cheap shots on Ohiyama. While Ohiyama was the Kyoto PRO Openweight Champion early last year, Ke’ala Ohana had a reign as the Six-Man Tag Champions there also! They can get it done as a trio!”
“The Handsome Man Modeling School have been a team for YEARS! They’ve got this in the bag!”
“That remains to be seen! Now let’s head to ringside for the next match!”
And with that, it wsa now time to say hello to Brent Williams.
“The following contest is set for one fall!” Brent announced.
TALK PRETTY TO ME!
“Talk Dirty To Me (HMMS Edit)” by Jason Derulo feat. 2 Chainz.
The horribly shitty music blared and the crowd started booing as the trio of pretty boys came out from the back first. One by one, the three men were all dressed in American Eagle fleeces and designer jeans from a local GAP. Taylor Smith and Peter Pham jawjacked the whole way down the aisle giving words of encouragement to a fired-up Reyes. Benny Reyes was in full attack mode pushing the camera out of the way as they approached.
“Introducing first, making their way to the ring at a combined weight of 657 pounds... they are the team of “Tantalizing” Taylor Smith, “The Beaut” Benny Reyes and “Photogenic” Peter Pham… THE HANDSOME MAN MODELING SCHOOL!”
The trio of nbW’s resident mimbos made their way into the ring. They looked like they were all business tonight and the crowd started to boo them as they threw their shirts off. Smith, Reyes, and Pham were ready for action as their music cut.
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!”
A HUGE explosion of red pyro went off behind him and the opening 15-second mark of “King Kong” by Gorilla Zoe played.
“And their opponents… from Hilo, Hawaii… at a combined weight of 715 pounds… they are the team of Jules and Rafi Ke’ala… and the 2016 WAR CUP WINNER OHIYAMA… THEY ARE KE’ALA OHANA!!”
The 6’6” 278-pound Hawaiian garnered a GREAT reaction from the crowd! The two smaller men accompanying him to the ring were his cousins Jules and Rafi Ke’ala who were making their in-ring debuts tonight with this six-man match! They all had on new green shirts with “Ke’ala Ohana” on the front in yellow with “WELCOME TO THE FAMILY!” on the back. They threw off the shirts and tossed them into the crowd before they entered the ring and got a cheer from the crowd! Jules and Rafi looked forward to this opportunity tonight to show off what they learned in Japan.
DING DING DING!
Peter Pham was all about starting for his team while Ohiyama decided to let Jules or Rafi take point. They both played a game of Rock, Paper Scissors and the two played for a couple of rounds because Rafi and Jules kept playing rock… because nothing beats rock. Except for when Jules remembered that Paper did.
“Damn it!” Rafi yelled.
“I win! I win! Yeah!”
Pham tried to run at the two men and he went on the attack quickly, driving a series of punches into the head of Jules Ke’ala! The 210-pound lean fighting machine was being taken to task by Pham in the corner and wailed on him with right hands….
Until Jules simply no-sold it.
Pham looked at him like he was mad after the punches had little to no effect on him!
“COME ON!” Jules shouted.
Pham CHOPPED him across the chest with a big shot, but Jules had been used to true physicality in Japan.
A STIFF Shoot Kick caught Peter in the chest and one shot was all it took to knock him right on his ass! Pham was clutching his chest in pain and gasping for air before the man called J-Boy rolled him over with a Snapmare. He measured himself…
Three more kicks caught him in the back and now Pham was flopping around on the mat like a fish! He rolled over to his corner and tagged out to Benny before falling to the floor! Jules had a grin on his face and it seemed he learned a thing or two about kicks during his three-year stint in Japan. He was ready to fight, but Rafi wanted a turn, so Jules obliged and tagged in his brother. Rafi was shorter than his brother, but stockier and with a former football and rugby background, he was incredibly fast.
“Go, Bruh!” Ohiyama shouted.
Benny Reyes was a muscle-bound powerhouse at 6’1” and 242, but Rafi Ke’ala didn’t look afraid of him. The tow locked horns with each other and they jockeyed for a superior position. Benny got the advantage and threw Rafi down! He stood up and patted himself on the back before he ran off the ropes. Rafi ducked down and Benny kept on going, but when he got back up, Rafi launched himself like a cannon and BLASTED Benny with a HARD Lariat!
The crowd cheered on Rafi now as he pulled a punch-drunk Benny back to his feet. He CRACKED him in the chest with a hard Open-Handed Chop and fired two more after that! Benny was in one corner and Rafi launched him across the ring. The 228-pound Rafi ran off the ropes and cracked Benny in the chest with a Running Spear in the corner! He was doubled over and ran him off the other side before connecting again with a second Running Spear! After knocking the air out of him, he turned him around and THREW him overhead with a Northern Lights Suplex into a bridge!
Benny kicked out! Rafi rolled over and then picked him up before making the tag out to Jules. Ohiyama seemed content in the corner to give Jules and Rafi the chance to test out their honed skills as the two brothers put him in the corner. They whipped Benny off the ropes and Jules CRACKED him with a huge Shoot Kick to the chest! After that, Rafi ran off the ropes and landed a big Jumping Senton! After Rafi left, Jules made the cover now!
Benny got the shoulder up, but that didn’t stop Jules from putting a beatdown on him. Jules struck him with a Forearm Smash and then another hard Shoot Kick to the chest! Benny doubled over against the ropes and Jules took off for another big move, but Taylor Smith finally jumped and put a knee into his back. The blow stunned him and Smith laughed.
He SMACKED Taylor Smith with a HARD Back Thrust Kick and Smith crumbled like a really pretty bag of crap! Surely, if Ravage were here he’d be beating the shit out of all three of his proteges, but right now Ke’ala Ohana were in control. Jules laughed, but turned around… BAM! Out of nowhere, Benny Reyes cracked him with a huge Running Shoulder Tackle when he wasn’t looking! The blow was enough to send Jules through the ropes and out to the floor!
“Don’t take your eyes off any of them!” Ohiyama shouted.
The advice was a little too late! Jules was on the floor right next to where Taylor hand landed! He was now checking his jaw to make sure that all of his teeth were still in place. Benny then made the tag to Peter Pham who was eager to get some payback for the start of the match. He laid on the apron and looked over to where Jules had landed before taking flight off the ring apron with a Moonsault right on Jules!
Rafi and Ohiyama watched the spectacular move and it took a bit out of Pham, but Jules was even worse for wear now! He then had Benny’s help to get him back inside the ring. Pham reached over and made the tag to Taylor Smith now. He leaped to the middle rope and came down on Jules with a Middle Rope Moonsault. Smith now hit the ring and leaped to the second rope before coming off with a Driving Elbow Drop…
DOUBLE YOUR PLEASURE!
The double-team connected and Smith made the cover.
“Hurry up, fuggo!” Smith yelled to referee Slim J.
He muttered under his breath as the made the cover.
J-Boy kicked out, but Taylor picked him up by the hair and dragged him back into the corner. The tag was made to Benny Reyes and the two men now each grabbed Jules’ arm. They set him up in the middle of ring and lifted him to the ropes…
NEW HOTNESS SLINGSHOT!
Double Slingshot Suplex on deck! Taylor rolled out of the ring and Benny made the cover.
TH – KICKOUT!
So close, but way off for The Handsome Man Modeling School.
“End this shit!” Smith yelled.
Taylor Smith made the tag right back in and it looked like the two men were about to finish things off with their finish, the Perfect 10. Benny Reyes picked him up in the elevated position and Smith was about to head to the top rope. He dove off and they tried for the Top Rope Hart Attack, but Rafi ran back into the ring and tripped him up on the top rope! Ohiyama cheered them on after Rafi saved his group. Jules elbowed his way free from Benny’s grip and pushed him into the corner…
HELLO FROM HILO!
The Running Corner Knee Strike was right on the button! Benny crumbled to the ground after having his jaw jacked and now Rafi returned to the corner. Jules was about to make the tag to his corner…
TAG TO OHIYAMA!
Taylor Smith tagged in for his team and tried to run his way out of the corner, but Ohiyama stopped him cold with a HARD Knife-Edge Chop! Peter Pham tried to springboard into the ring to catch Ohiyama with a move also…
He was CRACKED in the chest with another hard Chop! The Active Volcano then picked up Benny Reyes and then whipped him off to the corner…
A Running Knife-Edge Chop to one side of the ring.
And another on the opposite side! He picked him up by the side and hooked his head…
DAI FUNKA DEATH DROP!
Benny Reyes was put out of his misery with a Fireman’s Carry Backbreaker and now it was back to the legal man, Taylor Smith. The Big Oh tried to grab him by the head and threw him into their corner before the tag was made back to Jules! Jules then made into the ring and then he tagged in Rafi right after. Taylor Smith was groggy when Rafi grabbed him by the waist with a German Suplex as Jules came off the ropes with a STO…
The double-team by the brothers was a Release German/Running STO combo and Taylor landed right on the back of his head! Rafi made the cover on Taylor Smith!
“HERE ARE YOUR WINNERS OF THE MATCH… KE’ALA OHANA!”
Jules helped Rafi to his feet and Ohiyama joined them in a post-match celebration after a successful in-ring debut! The Ke’ala family celebrated in the ring as Pham and Reyes helped to drag Taylor out and limp towards the back with sadly another loss in their back pocket they’d get reamed for once Ravage returned some time.
Back inside the ring, Ke’ala Ohana were still celebrating with the fans.
“That’s our win! Our win tonight!” Rafi said.
Rafi and Jules high-fived. They were about to leave the ring…
Jules had been knocked CLEAR down! Out of nowhere, “Big” Rick Strongbern blasted him in the neck with his own signature Lariat!
Ohiyama turned around only to be caught in the jaw with a Running Big Boot to the jaw, courtesy of “Little” Ricky! Rafi didn’t have a chance to defend himself yet because he was grabbed by the leg and PULLED right out of the ring, courtesy of Rik Bonebreaker-Strongbern…
He was THROWN right into the steel steps before he even knew what was going on! Rik joined in the ring and all three men now jumped right on Ohiyama! The crowd booed the three men as they tried to take out The Active Volcano! Ohiyama tried to fight off the two large men! He popped Little Ricky in the mouth with a hard Headbutt and then struck Rik with an Uppercut. He then turned to face Big Rick.
“COME ON, FUCKER! LET’S DO THIS SHIT!”
Big Rick ripped his shirt off and told Ohiyama to bring the fight. He was about to, but both of the monsters of Clan Strongbern pounced on him again! They wailed on him several times in the corner, throwing punches and kicks into the chest and head of Ohiyama despite his best efforts. Jules tried to stand, but Big Rick stopped him right then and there…
The Snap DDT put Jules down on the mat before he could even try to help! Ohiyama tried to fight back still, but Little Ricky put a boot between his eyes! The blow was enough for the two monsters to grab an arm and DRIVE Ohiyama to the mat with a Double-Team Crucifix Bomb!
The stable of dudes all with variations of the name Rick Strongbern were now standing tall. They waited until this moment when Ke’ala Ohana was left vulnerable and then picked their assault. The crowd booed Clan Strongbern as they stood over Ke’ala Ohana. Big Rick grabbed a microphone and stared them all down.
“I TOLD YOU LITTLE BITCHES THAT WE WERE HERE TO MAKE NOISE AND FUCK SHIT UP! CONSIDER THIS MISSION ACCOMPLISHED! CLAN STRONGBERN… OUT!”
He dropped the microphone right next to Ohiyama and when one of the technicians tried to grab it, Big Rick kicked it away from him like a jerk! The jerk with the Napoleon Complex left the ring with Little Ricky and Bonebreaker-Strongbern in tow. This issue started last week when they had a backstage confrontation… it seemed Clan Strongbern was putting everybody on notice.
They were there to fuck shit up and make noise. And indeed, mission accomplished.
Still of the Night by Whitesnake.
Alyx Norwood, two wins under his belt this year and already his best year in his tenure. He stepped out to the center of the stage with confidence, while right behind him was Lucretia. Norwood then took a few steps out in front of her and took in the reception 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 by none other than the figure with a creepy mask covering his face. The mask looked to be ripped straight out of a horror movie or anime thrilled.
“Alyx Norwood! Welcome back once again! I see you haven't forgotten your spoils of war. Good evening Lucretia.”
She waved and walked off to the left of the stage where the orange spotlight revealed the wheel with the runes written on it.
“Lucretia, if you would. Let’s see what Alyx’s challenge will be tonight!”
She grabbed up at the top of the wheel's edge and gave it a tug left, causing it to spin and spin. 'Well slime, what will it be tonight?' The arrow continued to cross over the previous orange and green runes before coming to a stop on the red rune.
“Oh, wonderful Alyx!” Voiced the man on the screen. “Tonight's fight will be a No Disqualification match.” He waited for a response from Alyx but got none as he continued down the ramp ignoring the two. "Lucretia, try to get your hands dirty."
The screen went dark as Williams took to the center of the ring while Lucretia left the wheel and started down the ramp.
“This next match is scheduled for one fall, and will now be a No Disqualification match, where anything goes and the only way to win is by pinning, submitting or knocking your opponent out. 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-"
Frontline by Pillar.
The crowd reigned in boos as the ordinarily crimson clad Paragon of the Industry stepped out onto the stage, not at all dressed for a fight. Instead, dressed in his civvies, he waded his way through the vitriol, toward the ring and one very confused Alyx Norwood. He had with him a clipboard and pen, but no, this wasn’t a list.
Inside the ring he b-lined to Williams and asked politely if he could use the mic, seconds after he had snatched it from the announcer’s hand.
“Now, just hold on there, Super Chief,” Zed held his hand up toward Norwood. “I’m not out here for you. You either, fifty shades of batshit crazy,” he pointed out Lucretia stalking around the ringside.
“I have some unfinished business with your opponent that needs to get set straight. Somehow, I feel Quinlan might be harbouring some…. feelings of resentment towards your Paragon for that little incident when I left him lying among you idiots,” instant boo, “two weeks ago.”
As if on cue, we get a short video package of the final minute of a match from the last Slam between Zed and Quinlan that had spilled over to the crowd. There the two battled with Quinlan getting the upper hand before Rune took down Quinlan with a forearm shot to the back of the neck. What happened next was the Release Tiger Suplex onto the concrete to Quinlan; Zed and Rune walking away from the scene, arms raised.
“So, how’s about it Quinlan? You just come out here and before this ratings killer of a match gets going... you and I settle up?”
Digging Deep by Jakalope.
With tension in the arena, Quinlan stepped out onto the stage. Dressed in his traditional fight gear, Quinlan forwent the trademark leather jacket for a newly minted nBW official tee, spotted being worn by a few in the crowd and read: Warning! / Wears kickpads / Will use. He made his way, bumping knuckles with any that stuck over the rail, but had his eyes focused on the scene in the ring.
Back in the ring, there was an awkward moment when Williams asked Zed to let him do his job and got backed down with a thousand-daggers stare.
Quinlan leapt to the apron, cautious to not pass through the ropes. Instead, he went up the corner and plopped down. Zed offered him signal of civility, but Q opted to stand nose to nose.
“Okay, okay. Let’s just take a step back here. And maybe a breath mint.” Zed took his own instruction when Quinlan didn’t. He held up the clipboard and said, “this is the way it’s going to go down. This right here, it’s the contract for a rematch between you and I.”
That was all Quinlan needed to hear, it seems, as he grabbed the clipboard out of Zed’s hand, and then the pen he’d rested behind his ear. Quinlan gave a quick glance, but really only long enough to find the line with the x and signed his name. He slid the pen onto the clipboard and shoved it all back at Zed.
“Wow… wow. Okay,” Zed seemed a little uncomfortable with Quinlan’s eagerness and aggressive behaviour. “What you have signed right there my friend was our rematch, at 25 to Life!” Zed actually managed to grab a pop from the crowd with that one.
“Actually, to be more specific, and you should be very proud of this one… Quinlan, you have just entered into the 25 to Life match itself!” Zed smiled as everyone else was a little confused. “What? You didn’t really think I’d lower myself to wasting my time -- a prime pay per view match -- on you, did you?” The confusion was over, it was time to boo.
“I… I am sorry if you somehow feel cheated. It was all in the contract, if you just bothered to read it. You can read, can’t ya?” as Zed couldn’t hold back a short series of laughter. “ I mean, come on, don’t worry there, sport; I’m going to hold up my end. Seeing as I am winning the whole damned thing, all you need to do is last in there long enough for me to make my entrance. Can you.. Do you think you can do that, sport?” Zed spoke in tones people usually talked to dogs with, but rest assured, he is no good boy.
If Quinlan was hasty signed that contract, he was up on Zed doubly quick with steam billowling out of his ears. “And what if I don’t wait six weeks for this to happen?” Quinlan snarled.
“Whoa! Whoa there, sportsfan,” Zed tried to create some personal space. “I wouldn’t go and do anything stupid now... I mean, if you want to actually stay in the 25 to Life match.” The fans could smell something fishy, and booed as Zed spelt it out, “you see, if you even so much as lay a hand on me at any time before the 25 to Life match, you forfeit your spot.” Zed shrugged his shoulders and pointed to the contract in false defeat. “It’s all in the contract. Fortunately…”
“It says nothing about me hitting you.”
Quinlan went from red to blackout rage. Whereas he stood nose to nose with Zed at the start of this exchange, he was now walking Zed backward with as much force as he put into it. He’d need to figure out quickly exactly what it was he wanted to do. A lull fell over the fans when he turned away.
“That’s a smart lad,” Zed joked. “Now then, let’s get this dumpster fire rolling,” and tossed the mic back over to an unexpecting Brent Williams to make an awkward catch that outdid Edelman in the Super Bowl.
“Brilliant!” proclaimed C.G. Gains at ringside.
“How, exactly, is that brilliant?” ask Melissa Vanderart. “Quinlan is a man who seems ready to risk everything for what he does in that ring. He said as much last week. Why would riling a man-like-that up and putting the target on your back be anything remotely smart?” she reasoned.
“Zed knew. He knew that with his heavy out -- Rune being suspended -- that he’d need an insurance policy of sorts. And now, boom, Quinlan can’t even touch the guy.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure that he wouldn’t.”
“Well then, even if he does, that’s one less guy Zed needs to worry about heading into 25 to Life.”
“Speak of the Devil…” Vanderart started. “It appears as if we are going to be joined here on commentary by the self professed Paragon of the Industry right now.”
“Welcome, Zed,” Gains shook Zed’s hand as he took a seat and grabbed a headset.
Vanderart just bit her tongue.
“Wait, do you really think that I am going to join the worst commentating team in the profession and try to add life to this snoozer?”
“Please,” he cut them off. “I am just out here to gloat a little, so,” Zed took off the headset and waved them away.
Meanwhile, back in the ring…
Both men stood in their corner, ready for this contest to get underway. Quinlan seemed lost in his head, a one man guilt trip, while Norwood just wanted to get this done with. Our official, Jerry Peterson motioned to the time keeper.
DING! DING! DING!
Taking advantage of Quinlan’s misplaced focus, Norwood forwent the traditional dancing to zero in with a few quick punches. When those seemed to do little effect, Alyx took a run at the ropes and hoped to hit with something more forceful. That’s when Quinlan snapped to and sent Norwood spine first to the canvas with a Uranage Slam.
A little short of breath, Alyx created some space and took a beat to rethink his strategy in this one. Closing closer. Norwood countered Quinlan’s C&E attempt in favour of a shot to the ribs. To the back then with a forearm. A kick to the back of the knee brought Quinlan down to one. Norwood quickly slapped on a Dragon Sleeper, looking to choke some of that fire out of Quinlan.
Finding his escape, Quinlan spun up and then swept low, taking Norwood down with the Drop Toe Hold. Showing his mat skills, Quinlan looked to synch in a Kneebar, but Alyx bolted to the safety of the ropes like a skittish cat. No one in the crowd was expecting a display of mat wrestling once the No DQ stipulation was announced.
Both men back up, Quinlan was first in with a thigh kick that stopped Norwood. Quinlan fired off another with his other foot and to Norwood’s other leg. Taking Alyx’s arm, Quinlan tried to whip him into the ropes, but Norwood reversed position and sent Quinlan running to the ropes. Hitting them, Quinlan was sent tumbling over to the outside as Lucretia set the low bridge.
Alyx took a beat to figure out what went on, and marched over to Lucretia. Trying to tell her that he doesn’t need, or want, her help she responded by grabbing a chair from beneath the ring and handing it to him.
“This is a No Disqualifications match, slime. What? You don’t want to win?”
The slight hesitation passed as Alyx passed through the ropes and ripped the steel folding chair from Lucretia’s hand and turned back to Quinlan. He’d just taken back to his feet when he felt the chair planted into his ribs. Doubled over, his back made a large target.
The shot rang out, and Quinlan could only just try to make some space. Norwood gave it, seemingly wrapped up in satisfaction. And if those last two shots put him closer to assuring his mini-streak would continue, surely a third would cement it. Furniture overhead, he stalked over like an axe - no, chairmurderer. Problem was, his home run swing whiffed. Quinlan had rolled underneath.
The Leaping Spin Kick bounced the chair back and off Norwood’s face, then out of his grip, away. Quinlan scrambled back up to his feet and reigned in rights to a recovering Alyx. Opponent stunned, it was Shining Wizard time.
Norwood started to show obvious signs of damage. Quinlan had to pull his deadweight up and push him under the bottom rope, made harder by the brand new welt that was growing on his back. When he finally accomplished the task, he was in next, or at least, halfway.
Lucretia was at it again. This time, just simply holding the boot of Quinlan to deny him his pin attempt. When he couldn’t shake free his foot, he thrust it back, sending Lucretia bouncing off of the guardrail. Distraction gone by, he was finally free to make his way into the ring, but -
Running Knee Lift.
Lucretia had created just enough time for Norwood to weave his way through the cobwebs, or perhaps it was just instinct, but he’d taken Quinlan down with a knee of his own, but Q wasn’t down long. Norwood slipped behind with a waist lock and nailed a quick O’Connor roll that hit with the force of a snap German.
Norwood sent flying!
Quinlan used his considerable leg strength to kick out, and create some personal space at the same time. He tried to get up quickly using the ropes, but he was met nearly instantaneously with a lariat thrown with enough oomph that both men tumbled over the top rope and back to the outside again.
Both men tried to collect themselves after a nasty looking bump. Norwood was first up, and in a show of sportsmanship, he helped Quinlan to his feet. And then helped his head to the apron’s edge. Alyx continued the generosity, letting a small group of fans front row get a hand on one of the nBW wrestlers when he back body dropped Quinlan onto the guardrail.
The chaos ringside was on the move, Norwood on attack and Quinlan retreating, and reached ‘round to where Lucretia was again. She’d just finished erecting a 8’ folding table, as Quinlan would come to find. Norwood introduced him to it personally, bouncing his head off a corner.
“Through the table. Put him through the table.”
Taking the hint, Norwood again trying to drag his opponent up, but Quinlan dropped back down with a quick Jawbreaker. An Irish Whip sent Norwood into the steps, and the Cannonball Senton sent Quinlan into Norwood, into the steps.
Quinlan pushed Norwood back in, but this time was sure to stare down the lurking Lucretia before getting on the apron. With her suitably at bay, Quinlan leapt over the ropes and nailed Norwood with a Hilo. Pin attempt.
Alyx seemed unsure, fighting to keep his momentum, but finding Quinlan was always just a short counter away from the upper hand again. It was this doubt running through his head as he pulled himself up in the corner that kept him from seeing the oncoming kick that Quinlan tried to run through his head.
Alyx just seemed to melt down in the corner looking at the cartoon birdies circle by. Quinlan seemed to have his imagination sparked some, as well, as rather than go directly on attack, he rolled out of the ring and to that chair already in play. He got back in and every so gently placed it against Norwood, and backed away to the middle of the ring. He turned back, looking Hesitation Dropkick.
He hit the kick, but not the chair. In the last second, Lucretia was able to pulled the steel away. All the same, Quinlan was still in control in these late stages, and was looking for that one suplex to end it. He pulled Norwood up by the back of his tights and hooked his arms - one Nelson, one Dragon. Somehow, Norwood spun out as Quinlan tried to take him over and almost on autopilot went full brawler.
Uppercut followed uppercut, ten in total. It was finally a Shotgun Drop Kick to the corner that he’d let Quinlan down.
“ Slime!” Lucretia tried to get his attention before she lobbed a set of brass knucks in to him.
With a face that screamed, ‘why didn’t you think of this first?’ Norwood slipped the metal over his digits. He kissed them before he let them kiss Quinlan. Q dropped. Norwood slipped the knuckle dusters off before making the pin attempt.
With millimetres between Jerry Peterson’s hand and the mat, Quinlan managed to get one shoulder up.
Norwood sat up in a look of disbelief. He didn’t even argue the ref’s call. Alyx looked out at the crowd and up to the Heavens. Then he finally looked down, to the nefarious woman and barked for Lucretia to toss him more weapons. She obliged tossing in a trash can and kendo stick.
Choices, choices. Alyx rolled around the can before picking up with kendo. Like the Babe calling his shot, he took a practice swing. With menace, he walked to a not-all-there Quinlan. One shot to the thigh. Another to the back. And this just seemed to wake Quinlan up, shooting in before the third and hoisting Norwood off his feet. Quinlan took two steps and then drove Norwood through that trash can with a Spinebuster.
Quinlan was the first to his feet, and let everyone know this one was nearing completion by running his thumb across his neck. He took Norwood up, deadlifting him and marching over to the corner. He sat Norwood on the top rope and climbed to the second himself. Before he could hint at what he was trying to do, Norwood headbutted him off. Quinlan was quick back though, grabbing the top rope and swinging up to hit an Enziguri.
Second time up, Quinlan changed his approach. He draped Norwood across his shoulders before backing up to the second rope. He seemed to be looking for the Avalanche Rolling Senton until he took a look at the ringside and that table. With a spirit of ‘Ah, what the Hell,’ he shifted his footing and took off. The whole crowd held their breath.
Rolling Senton from the top rope to the outside through the table!
“Ho-ly shit! Ho-ly shit! Ho-ly shit! Ho-ly shit!”
There were no signs of motion from either of these men for an uncomfortably long beat. Quinlan was the first to roll to his belly, but it was still a struggle for him to make it to his feet. Norwood was in a bad way, but on a knee when Lucretia tried to help him up. Not seeing her, he must have assumed it was Quinlan, because he uncorked a back elbow that took her down.
Somehow after that Norwood was up first and trying to rolling Quinlan into the ring. He followed behind, but everything at this point was half speed. Quinlan was to a knee when he tried to take a front facelock, but Quinlan shoved him back. With a third wind, Quinlan came alive catching Norwood with a series of strikes, in order; back spin kick, front kick, forearm, chop, uppercut, punch, thigh kick, forearm. Dragon Rush.
Norwood was only standing thanks to the ropes, and Quinlan was resting against Norwood trying to catch his breath. Quinlan bounced Norwood off the near rope and spun with a highly audible elbow strike.
Discus Elbow! Death by Elbow!
That had to be it. Norwood probably wouldn’t even know he was being pinned at this point, but before Quinlan could even drop from the pin attempt, he’d forgotten about somebody. Zed was in the ring.
Knees to the back of the neck! ZNNIHILATION!
Soaking up the fan response, Zed rolled Quinlan over to his back. He walked to Norwood and dragged him by the wrist to lay atop Quinlan. Dusting off his hands, Zed left the ring and started up the ramp way.
Jerry Peterson had no choice but to count.
DING! DING! DING!
Norwood had done it? He’d gotten a few fistfuls of help, but the record books will show this as Norwood d. Quinlan. He didn’t really believe it when the ref was raising his hand.
This was obviously going to take some time to clean up, so the show cut to elsewhere.
Paragoning Done Right
Backstage, and on the other side of the curtain, nBW cameras were trained on the Paragon of the Industry, walking with some great sense of accomplishment. Zed had only gotten a few steps out of gorilla before being flagged down by our intrepid reporter, Adria Hoyt.
In his great mood, Zed stopped on the spot and welcomed the interview. In his mind, everyone should be talking about him anyways.
“Out there, you just cost Quinlan his match against Alyx Norwood. Why?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Zed asked through a cheshire grin. “Because I can.”
The blonde beauty continued, “Aren’t you afraid of any retribution?”
Zed shot Ms. Hoyt a look of disappointment. “From him? Yeah, sure, if he wants to lose his spot in the 25 to Life match. But, I will let you in on a little secret Adria,” he motioned her close like he was going to whisper a secret into her ear, but then pulled out to look dead in the camera, “Quinlan was never a threat to me. This is my moment. My year. Everybody in the back had better get used to second place.”
Persistent Adria asked away, “You can’t really think that Quinlan won’t want some measure of revenge for this?”
Not letting himself get down, Zed replied, “Why is that, Adria? Did I somehow upset him out there? Huh. Well, if you think that what I did out there was bad, wait until he sees what I do to that little psycho bitch friend of his later tonight.”
“You seem oftly confident considering that your bodyguard was just suspended,” Adria spoke with a twinge of confusion. “I mean, you aren’t used to being alone out there, are you?”
Zed offered her a kind smile, and that made it all the more creepy. “Ms. Hoyt, who says that I am going out there alone?”
And with that veiled threat, Zed patted Adria on the head and just continued on his way to somewhere stage left.
Flanagan & Doherty
The Rich Family
Conan Doherty and Declan Rich would get us underway. Doherty, while not as full-on as Flanagan, still likes to come forward and got in Dec's face. Rich responded by shoving Doherty back, but Conan returned with a takedown and a flurry of flying fists, much to the crowd's satisfaction. After weathering the storm, Dec scrambled to his feet and leaned up against the ropes for assistance.
Doherty cracked him with a Chop and sent him to the right-hand side of the ring, meeting him halfway with a Shoulderblock.
The Irishman picked Declan up and dusted him down with a fantastic Falling Neckbreaker, showcasing technique not normally associated with the Dublin duo.
Up on the second rope of Flanagan and Doherty's corner, Conan took off - and landed successfully - with a fine Diving Knee Drop for a straight two.
Here's Flanagan and in spite of his unfavourable win-loss record, a cheer went up for the silent, drunken and courageous Irishman. A Pointed Elbow Drop was as good as anywhere to start. However, his Delayed Knee Drop was a bit too late in coming and Declan, springing to his feet, kept Flanagan on the floor with a well-time Chop Block. Thereafter, he rushed to tag Todd.
Todd didn't hang about, slinging three hard rights to the drunkard's head and whipping him to the opposing set of ropes, setting up a Pop-Up Kick to the midsection...
Fuck that, said Flanagan.
Todd tried to get back too quickly, missing with a stray Lariat and eating one in exchange. Flanagan then tossed Rich out of the ring like slugging some of the black stuff back on a Monday afternoon.
I hope he doesn't do that behind the bar, but I wouldn't put it past him. However, what you couldn't take away from Flanagan - that was a stunning move!
Both men were down. Flanagan got up at four and rolled Rich back in before slowly re-entering the squared circle.
Another sense of anticipation...
...Converted into a Backbody Drop!
Rich leapt over to Declan, who timed his entrance perfectly by delivering an awesome Double Knee Facebreaker. Somehow, Flanagan didn't go down...
He did now.
Gorgeous Bridging Northern Lights Suplex!
Conan has started to realise Flanagan may be trapped...
Poor anticipation by Doherty there. Did he overestimate Flanagan? Either way, his judgement had been way off the mark and he came to tend to Flanagan, who wasn't hurt, but was still disoriented.
The Rich Family exited left and raised their arms in the air, gaining no fanfare and a smattering of boos from various sections.
That would do Declan's confidence a world of good and showed that they could get the job done without their leader, Freddie.
A Royalty's Pain
The scene opens up backstage once more, this time in the corridor where fresh off his victory Alyx Norwood is wiping the sweat from his brow. Just taking it easy while resting up against the wall. Next to him, at arms length even, is Lucretia.
"Shouldn't you be screaming at me?"
She looked at him with a blank stare in response.
"I did hit you, accidental of course. Still, I think we should end this. Whatever this is."
"Oh Slime, you really have no idea." She let her cloak's hood fall back, showing her face, which of course remained halfway hidden by the mask she wore. But the camera finally got the fans their first closeup and revealed the scarred up looking attributes that weren't quite hidden. Mask or not. "Until he orders so, I'll remain by your side."
She closed the distance with a step, getting up close to him and placing her palm across his bare chest.
"So, if that means you need to use me, for whatever purposes. I'm yours, slime." Her hand drew up down his chest to his abs. "All yours." And up the chest until she rested her open palm under his chin and cheek. "So be as rough as you'd like."
Lucretia grinned, then pulled her cloak back over her head and started off down the corridor. Alyx left in his thoughts as he left his spot and went in the men's lockerroom.
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.
"Last week, 'The Founding Father' got found out. This time it's the turn of a former Tag Team champion. Whether you're hot or you're cold, you'll definitely be no. NEXT!"
Brent Williams couldn't introduce Rich's opponent until...
Ring announcer Brent Williams stood in the ring as the lights faded out and suddenly, the hub lights around the entrance started to pulsate several different shades of blue, purple, and yellow. The EpiCenter started to display names.
NIGHT LIFE USA
The names constantly rotated until HOTSTREAK flashed. "From Las Vegas, Nevada...weighing two hundred and thirty-three pounds, representing The Nightlife USA...HOTSTREAK."
Unusually, he wasn't aided by Polar, which prompted discussion among our commentary team. The slightly younger twin brother made his way up the stairs, greeted by a lovely welcome back and Freddie removed his jacket, telling the official to take care of it. In turn, the announcer received Freddie's leather get-up. Now, time for business.
As the bell sounded, Hotstreak burned out of the corner and connected with a delightful Dropkick that immediately deposited Freddie into the left-hand set of ropes.
An Irish Whip towards the right and once Rich rebounded, The New Hotness met him with a magnificent Corkscrew Flying Forearm Smash.
The Fiery One slowed things down, deciding to deploy a Dragon Sleeper. Freddie got to his feet in spite of the submission being intact, but a knee to the back took the wind out of his sail and a Scorpion Death Drop threatened to knock him out cold.
And that was a straight two this time round.
While Rich regained his senses, Hotstreak headed to the top right-hand corner of the ring, via the outside, and executed a stunning Diving Crossbody, which Rich managed to convert into a pinning predicament, not getting past one.
A Lariat by Rich missed and coming leftfield, literally, Hotstreak bowled Freddie over with a Running Somersault Shoulder Block. His twin brother applauded The Fiery One's fine efforts thus far.
Hotstreak, still in charge, planted 'The First' with a hard Hangman's Neckbreaker before going back to the same corner as before, albeit to the second rope.
He bust out an old favourite, The Fire Dance, a little jig followed by a Double Foot Stomp.
Freddie rolled away, anticipating a high-risk move, but Hotstreak adjusted in mid-air, landing on his feet, before letting 'The First' have it with a Standing Double Foot Stomp instead!
Not far away.
Quick on his feet, the Livewire rebounded from the east with interest in the shape of a Running Single Leg Kick. His subsequent attempt was cut off by an angry Atomic Drop by Freddie, who'd been made to look like a mug thus far. This was a far cry from his fight with The Founding Father.
A Slingshot Suplex, wait, was interrupted by Polar, who grabbed Rich by his leg, causing HS to fall on top with a modified Crossbody...
Rather than focus on his opponent, Freddie stood up and kicked off with the official. His frustration pleased our capacity crowd who really did not care for The Rich Family leader. Hotstreak capitalised, reacting with a Roll-Up to try and sneak a victory...
Again, Freddie found a way to escape. The former Nightlife USA member was hot on his heels again, pun meant, but this time he could've done with keeping a cooler head, like his brother, Polar...
The SICK Kick took poured freezing cold water on Hotstreak's hot streak. He'd been piping from the get-go. And Polar, normally calmer and cooler, stood up on the apron...
Only to get a running punch by Rich!!!
'The First,' who oddly enough didn't have anyone out there to keep watch, was furious and wanted to take his frustration out on Hotstreak...
He set him up slowly, though from there, it was ferocious and fast..
RAGS TO RICHES!
The Cradle Piledriver drilled Hotstreak. And, with Polar nowhere near to be seen...
It felt like the outcome was inevitable...
Rich bailed out of the ring and kicked Polar while he was just getting up. The Ice King got up pretty sharply and gave chase. Who knows if he'll catch up with Rich backstage. These fans certainly hoped so.
In truth, the time of the bout hadn't gone too long, a bit like Freddie's victory over 'The Founding Father' Matt Haddon. However, Hotstreak had served up most of the attacks in this match. 'The First' was somewhat fortunate to unearth 'Freddie's Nightmare,' though in fairness, he was smart to succeed that with Rags to Riches.
Since electing to face former champions in nbW, Matt Haddon and Hotstreak had both been beaten, but Freddie, in spite of his massive potential, had plenty to work on. That's why these matches make so much sense.
You've got to believe that, providing he steps in there with a Blitzkrieg kingpin and particularly a World champion, he'll need to rely on more than just good fortune if he's to continue this RICH vein of form.
Coming back from break the camera faded in to show NBW’s dynamic duo of Melissa Vanderart and C.G. Gaines as they sat behind their announce table at ringside. Straightening her notes in front of her, Vanderart looked every bit the professional that she was as she acknowledged the camera. Next to her, the swarmy C.G. had his feet resting up on the desk as he leaned far back in his chair and picked at his teeth with a toothpick, not bothering to look up at the camera.
Glancing at her partner, Mel rolled her eyes before looking back to the camera.
“Welcome back to Slam everyone! Coming up next is a one on one confrontation between the unpredictable ‘Deadly’ Erick Davies, and NBW’s resident cult hero ‘Fat Tuesday’ Davey LaRue…”
“BLEH! LaRue!?” Gaines blurted out in disdain as he tossed his dirty toothpick behind him and into the front row, hitting an unsuspecting fan right in the forehead. Lucky for Gaines he happened to hit a NBW “superfan” who proceeded to pick the toothpick off of the ground and show his new souvenir off to the fans around him, who were clearly more grossed out than impressed.
“Why couldn’t Tockwell have put his ass on the shelf right next to Brock Newbludd!? Ah well, doesn’t matter, it’ll be fun watching that sadistic animal Davies tear that jolly fatman apart! LaRue might be loved by all these idiots in the stands, but he’s too much of a soft hearted Sally to take down someone like Davies!” Gaines proclaimed as he pulled his feet off of the desk to straighten himself in his chair.
Mel nodded her head in agreement, which made C.G. slightly raise an eyebrow in surprise.
“Well C.G., I have to agree with you on one thing, Davey has always been known as being a overly positive and fun loving guy…”
“AKA a big dumb idiot who’s lucky to have a job here. He should be greeting people at Wal-Mart, not attempting to wrestle real men like Erick Davies. Look at what happened at Pride! He got his drunken ass beat up by somebody in the back before he could even make it to the ring to face Al Envy! There’s no room for good guys in...”
Abruptly, Mel held her hand up to stop Gaines as she put her other hand up to the earpiece on her headset. With an annoyed look on his face, C.G. waited a few seconds before throwing his hands up in the air.
“What’s going on!? And how come they never talk to me in my headset!?” he asked as he took off his headset and examined its earpiece with a frown.
“Because you’re an irresponsible lush who can’t be trusted, and don’t bother, that’s not even a real headphone. They just put a fake one in there so your feelings weren’t hurt.” Mel casually answered with a wry grin, causing Gaines to give her an incredulous look.
Ignoring his shock, Mel looked back into the camera.
“We’re going to send it to the back to where Adria Hoyt has stopped Davey LaRue for a quick pre match interview!”
With that, the camera cut to the back to show lead interviewer Adria Hoyt, microphone in hand, quickly walking up to the “gorilla” position where Davey LaRue stood waiting to make his entrance. The clicking of Hoyt high heels against the concrete caught Davey’s attention, and he turned his head slightly to stare coldly at the approaching journalist, causing her to slow her pace a little bit in confusion.
In all the years that Adria and Davey had known each other, this was the first time that Fat Tuesday did not greet her with his goofy, but always genuine, smile. Reaching him, Adria cocked her head and gave LaRue a curious look before bringing the mic up.
“Davey, I...uh...I was hoping to get a few words from you before your match...is that ok?”
Adjusting the tape on his wrists, LaRue gave Hoyt a sideways look before putting his focus back to the tape.
“Davey?” Adria asked again, this time with a hint of concern.
Looking up to now stare at the entrance double doors that were only a few feet in front of him, LaRue sullenly shook his head.
“Da time for words is done now Cher...dat’s all I’ve eva been good for. Talkin’ dat big game, but neva backin’ dat talk up...but dat changes startin’ tanight...it’s gotta...” LaRue quietly said in his thick Cajun accent.
“Davey, I’m not sure I follow...nobody could find you after Newbludd and Sally were rushed to the hospital to get your thoughts on your two close friends being seriously injured. I know we have limited time right now before your match, but...
Suddenly LaRue snapped his head around to give Hoyt an angry but pained look.
“But what!? But what!? Where was Ol’ Davey when his banged up buddy got put in a rough spot...a no win sitsheeashun? Where was dat Fatfuck Tuesday when his bon ami’s girl was bein’ treated like she was nuttin more den a pieceatrash? Is dat what all ya’all’s inquirin’ minds wanna know!?”
Absolutely stunned by this tense and angry version of LaRue, Hoyt stood with her jaw wide open, not really believing that the man standing in front of her was Davey.
“Well lemme tell ya! Ol’ Fat Tuesday had da night off dat night. So what did he do!? He lived up ta his reputation as da party animal pig and drank so much galldamn bourbon durin’ the day dat by da time Brock an’ Sally went out ta da ring I was takin’ a catnap behind a dumpsta’ in da parking garage! Can’t do much ta help a friend in trouble when you’re passed out drunk! ”
Hanging his head in obvious shame, the upset LaRue took a deep breath and now Hoyt had found the source of his obvious angst.
“Davey…you had nothing to do with Brock and Sally getting injured.” a sympathetic Hoyt said as she rested a hand on LaRue’s shoulder, but her hand was instantly swept away as a furious LaRue raised his head and pointed a finger at her.
“No! I love ya Adria, but I don’t need or want your pity! I said tings gotta change, and mark my words Cher, dat starts right now! De days of Davey LaRue bein da amusement for y'all around here is over! My recklessness is de reason Brock is gone, me being a fool caused Sally ta get her brains scrambled by Mr. Big Talk, Mr. Bullshit. Dat’s on my hands!”
”Ladies and gentlemen! The following contest is set for one fall with a fifteen minute time limit!”
Davey turned his head to the closed double doors at the sound of Brent Williams voice, his match only moments away before facing Adria one last time.
“My atonement starts now, and y’all gonna see what kind of reckonin’ dis big Cajun bastard is gonna bring down on anyone who has it comin’ to dem, be it Al Envy, Jake Tockwell, or anybody else who’s wronged Davey LaRue! You see dem walkin’ round' backstage, you tell dem dat der day’s are numbered, ya hear!? Der’s a gator from Baton Rouge huntin’ dem boys down and it ain’t gonna stop huntin’ until it gets it’s prey!”
“Born This Way” by Thousand Foot Krutch
“Y’all tink dis Erick Davies is deadly? Well, less see how he holds up ta de toughest sonuvabitch ta ever come out of de bayou, Davey LaRue!”
With his entrance music blaring out over the arena speakers, a fired up Davey spun around and walked through the now open double doors, ready to start what he called his "reckonin".
Davey La Rue
Instead of cutting away to show LaRue walking through the double doors and onto the stage, the camera simply followed right behind the motivated Cajun as he strode through them, giving a unique visual that gave the fans at home a glimpse of what it was like to make a entrance in the Epic II arena.
“Introducing first! From Baton Rouge, Louisiana...weighing in at two-hundred and seventy two pounds...this is ’Fat Tuesday’ Daveeey LaRuuuueee!” Brent Williams announced and LaRue looked all business as he headed down the ramp, not bothering to acknowledge the roar of approval the NBW faithful gave him.
It was an odd sight indeed to see NBW’s resident cult hero not come barreling down the ramp atop his trademark silver scooter with his fist raised high in the air and it was apparent that Davey was serious about replacing his light hearted persona with one that was far more menacing and grim.
“Davey looks like a man possessed C.G., I honestly don’t know what to make of it!” Mel said, and C.G. snickered in response.
“What a load of crap Mel, anybody who honestly thinks that this idiot is going to get anywhere on this little vendetta of his probably drinks more than Davey does. My guess is that in about five to six minutes from now LaRue will be snapped back into reality after Davies does a number on him and LaRue can go back to passing out behind dumpsters.”
The big Cajun had indeed proclaimed that he was beginning his personal vendetta tonight on those who had wronged him, and that he needed to atone for his shame of not being there for his two closest friends when they needed his help the most. And judging from the icy gaze that fixed his eyes as he walked up the ring steps, it appeared that he meant to follow through with gaining the redemption his desired.
Though, the real test would be to see if this new found edge would translate to more success in the ring. While Davey was no pushover as a competitor, up to this point in his career the general consensus was that he lacked the ‘killer instinct’ that was so common of a trait found amongst the upper echelon of competitors of NBW.
Brushing past referee Tal Nedrick, LaRue grabbed the top rope to stretch himself out before making his way into the far side corner to wait for his opponent.
“Rio Bravo” by CKY
“And his opponent! From Brooklyn, New York...weighing in at two-hundred and thirty five pounds…’Deadly’ Erick Daaaviiiees!”
As boos filled the arena, Williams quickly exited the ring at the sight of Davies coming through the double doors and onto stage. Like most people in the NBW, the ring announcer preferred to keep a safe distance between himself and the always unpredictable Davies, who for some reason had decided to bring a steel chair out to the ring with him tonight.
“Erick looks especially wound up tonight C.G.! And why is he carrying a steel chair with him!? This isn’t a Blitzkrieg rules match!” Mel said as Davies walked down the aisle with the chair gripped in both hands, occasionally raising it above his head to wave it threateningly at any fan heckling him.
“I really don’t think Davies understands the concept of ‘rules’ or bathing for that matter. The only thing that I can say for sure is that he probably intends to imprint LaRue's skull with that chair.” Gaines answered back as the maniac continued his way down the ramp, giving no indication that he planned on dropping the weapon before entering the ring.
“But that would disqualify him, giving LaRue the victory!” Mel pointed out.
“I never said Davies would win Mel, I just said that he would beat the living shit out of that dope LaRue. Like I said, Erick doesn’t concern himself with rules or winning, he just wants to hurt people.”
Chair in hand, Davies crawled up onto the ring apron only to be stopped by Nedrick who demanded that he drop the weapon before stepping through the ropes. In response the wild eyed Davies simply laughed in the veteran referees face, causing Nedrick to reach for the chair to yank it out Erick’s. The struggle for the chair didn’t last long however as the much stronger Davies easily fended off Nedrick’s attempt, causing Tal to threaten him with being disqualified if he didn’t get rid of the chair.
During those few brief seconds that Erick and Tal were arguing with each other, Davey silently dropped down and rolled out of the ring. Keeping low as he moved along the edge of the ring apron, Davey only popped up when he was directly under the unaware Erick who was solely focused on the referee.
Still on the ring apron, Davies shook his head in refusal at Nedrick’s demands and the visibly annoyed referee spun around to signal the timekeeper to ring the bell to end the match before it even started but a large roar from the crowd stopped him from doing so. Spinning back around, Nedrick’s eyes widened in surprise as he saw Davies flying backwards away from the ring!
Then in one quick motion LaRue reached up to grab his unsuspecting opponent by the legs before yanking Erick off the apron and sending him crashing down hard to the floor with a sit out powerbomb!
Hitting the hard ground with a sickening splat, Davies had let go of the chair in mid flight and now writhed in pain on the ground at LaRue’s feet. Bending over, LaRue grabbed Davies by the hair and roughly yanked Erick’s head up.
“Ring dat damn bell Nedrick!” LaRue barked up to Tal as he picked Davies up and rolled him into the ring.
Snapping out of the shock of witnessing the big time powerbomb, Nedrick nodded his head and gave the timekeeper the signal.
DING! DING! DING!
Climbing up the steps to get back in the ring, LaRue watched as the stunned Erick pushed himself up onto all fours and began to crawl towards the center of the ring. Shaking his head as he crawled, it was apparent that hitting the floor from the surprise powerbomb had really done a number to Erick.
Looking pleased by the sight of Davies crawling on his hands and knees, Davey reentered the ring and quickly bounced off of the ropes behind the still crawling Davies to rush towards him and leap into the air…
Landing squarely on Erick’s back, LaRue crushed Davies down into the mat with his signature running senton! With Davies laying facedown on the mat in between his feet, the now standing Davey then leaped high into the air to bring down a knee into the small of his adversary’s back, causing Davies to cry out in pain!
Those cries were quickly muffled by the stone faced LaRue as he grabbed the back of Davies head and began viciously slamming Erick’s face into the mat! Growing bored with that quickly, LaRue then lifted Davies to his feet and irish whipped him hard into the corner. Now having the groggy Davies propped up into the corner, LaRue charged in towards him and smashed Erick with a body avalanche!
Taking a step back from the corner, LaRue followed up the splash with a stiff knife edge chop that echoed throughout the arena and caused Davies to instinctively cover up his chest with both arms, which was just fine for Davey who proceeded to give Erick a series of hard back elbows to his exposed head.
Finished with his barrage of elbows, the unrelenting LaRue then delivered a knee into Davies gut that doubled Erick over. Grabbing Erick by the head, Davey drug him out a few feet from the turnbuckle before reaching down and lifting Davies up...
After hitting the top turnbuckle hard, the dead on his feet Davies staggered out of the corner and right back into the clutches of the waiting LaRue who scooped him up with ease…
Bouncing face first off the turnbuckle, Davies now stumbled backwards out of the corner and once again found himself in LaRue’s grasp…
Full Nelson Backbreaker!
With Davies a crumpled mess at his feet, LaRue spread his arms out wide as he let out a dominant roar that garnered some cheers from the crowd. If there were still any doubts that good ol’ Davey LaRue was capable of being vicious, the brutal beating he was currently dishing out to Erick Davies was quickly putting them to rest. The fact of the matter was that whatever was fueling LaRue tonight was serving it’s purpose to perfection, so much so that Erick Davies hadn’t even been able to muster up one offense attack against him.
But that suddenly changed when LaRue screamed in pain after a desperate Davies grabbed one of LaRue’s calves and chomped down on it! Instinctively LaRue tried to pull his leg free, but Erick was latched onto him like a rabid dog and LaRue nearly fell over onto his back as he tried to shake Erick off of him. Regaining his footing, LaRue then forcibly removed Davies from his leg by coming down hard with a fist that made a loud smack when it impacted into the side of Erick’s head.
Free from the grip of Davies teeth, LaRue hobbled around gingerly as he tried to walk off the pain in his leg. With his unorthodox attack buying him some precious time, the still groggy Davies staggered to his feet with a satisfied smile on his face.
The sight of that twisted grin caused LaRue’s face to turn red with anger and he quickly wiped it from Davies face by leveling him with a hard clothesline!
Jerking Davies back up to his feet, LaRue delivered a rapid fire series of knees into Erick’s abdomen before wrapping a hand around his neck and lifting him up…
Jack and Coke Slam!
Out of nowhere LaRue just planted Davies into the mat with his signature chokeslam and he did it with ease!
Dragging Davies into the center of the ring LaRue dropped down his knees for the cover but then stopped himself. Looking down at Davies in disgust, LaRue pulled Erick back to a vertical position…
Davey probably didn’t need to hit his deadly cutter to put Erick Davies away, but he was sending a message and that was the exclamation point to end it. Rolling an unconscious looking Davies onto his back, LaRue yet again didn’t go for the cover. Instead he stomped over to the corner and climbed up to the top!
Obviously he felt like his message needed two exclamation points on the end of it.
TOP ROPE LEMON DROP!
The force of the two hundred and seventy pound LaRue landing on his chest caused Davies to convulse like a fish out of water. Staying seated on top of the destroyed Davies, LaRue folded his arms in satisfaction as Tal counted.
“The winner of this match via pinfall…’Fat Tuesday’ Davey LaaaRuuueee!!” Brent bellowed out over the celebrating crowd.
In the ring, Davey stood up off of his beaten opponent and looked emotionless as Nedrick raised his arm in victory, though this was not just any win for LaRue. It was the most dominant that the burly Cajun has ever looked in an NBW ring. While it lacked the showboating and crowd involvement that he was known for, it more than made up for it by being efficient and devastating in it’s execution.
“Can you believe that C.G? Davey absolutely dominated Erick Davies, what a win for LaRue!” Mel exclaimed, sounding genuinely shocked.
“I can’t Mel! I demand that LaRue get tested for performance enhancers immediately! There has to be an explanation for this!” an outraged Gaines fired back.
“The explanation is that Davey LaRue is dealing out vengeance, and after what we just saw here, I’d hate to be the next man on his list!”
“Vengeance!?” C.G. scoffed. “He’s Davey LaRue the town drunk, not some vigilante! He’s not Clint fuckin’’ Eastwood! Get real Mel!”
“Language C.G.” Mel instantly scolded her partner who grumbled incoherently in return.
Davey LaRue, the friendliest and most carefree grappler to probably ever step foot into a NBW ring, had just destroyed one of it’s most deranged and unpredictable members in less than five minutes.
Suddenly Davey’s pinnacle moment was cut short when from out of literally nowhere Alan Envy entered the ring and knocked Davey down from behind with a lariat. With LaRue stunned from the blow, Envy then started delivering stiff kicks on Davey’s upper body. Giving one last hard kick for good measure, Envy then stopped and stared out into the crowd, who were raining down boos from his actions.
“What the hell is this!? Al Envy has no right to be out here! We need security!” Vanderart protested as Gaines laughed in delight.
“Yes! Now that’s more like it, Fatman Larue laying face down on the mat!”
Looking back down to the stunned LaRue, Envy reached down for one of the burly Cajun’s arms and signaled he was going to break it which caused Gaines to cheer loudly.
“Break his arm! Break it!”
However as Envy was about to apply his Paying The Dues arm submission Davey lashed out in defense and tripped Envy. Scrambling to his feet, Davey had a chance to nail Alan with some shots but the slippery Envy slid out of the ring just as quickly as he entered. Looking absolutely pissed by his attack being thwarted, Envy talked trash to the fans as he backpedaled up the ramp to make his way backstage.
Inside the ring Davey screamed for Envy to come back and fight him, but the only response he got was a tirade of cursing from Envy who then turned his back to LaRue and disappeared through the double sliding doors.
Hands on his hips, the furious LaRue kicked the bottom rope in frustration before bending over to exit through the ropes and just as he did the now recovered Erick Davies slithered behind him to send a boot straight between Davey’s legs!
Gasping for breath from the low blow, Davey stumbled right into the waiting arms of the man he had just beaten in the ring…
The Concussion on Delivery!
In a an instant Davies was able to slightly redeem himself from the embarrassing loss he had just had by driving Davey head first into the mat with his punishing package piledriver!
Letting out a string of maniacal laughter, Davies quickly exited the ring and made his way up the ramp. While in the ring, LaRue held his head in pain as he laid face down on the mat.
And as the camera slowly faded out, it became obvious that Davey LaRue's road to redemption was going to be a bumpy one indeed.
If You’re Not In … You’re Out, Part 2
Jake Tockwell, VIP, El Principe and their manager Raul Ramirez were now out of their gladrags and only had towels to cover their modesty. If Ingram's previous remarks were to be believed, it was the only humble aspect of Principe's personality!
They were about to enter a private dressing room with a star showing The In Crowd as the name on the door. Beforehand, they turned to The Law, Brady and Strauss, with Vic bearing specific instructions: "Nobody gets in here. NO ONE."
Brady nodded: "No one."
Price repeated it.
“NO JAGS ALLOWED!” yelled Tockwell.
Brady told him not to worry while Strauss held the door open for our new Blitzkrieg and Dynasty Tag Team champions, who were greeted in the hot tub by six scantily-clad starlets: Blonde, brunette, redhead, white, black, Asian and Hispanic origin. All undeniably attractive. The lively girls splashed the champions upon entering the tub. Two each for Price and Principe as another couple stayed at the foot of the bath, sipping Champagne hanging with Raul and Jake.
“Ladies, ladies, ladies … “ said Tockwell. “Your NEXT WORLD CHAMP is here!!!”
The In Crowd members put their belts on the side of the tub to save them from getting wet. One of the girls asked Vic if she could touch, and he playfully nudged her arm: "It depends on what you want to touch."
She giggled at that.
“And now here’s a toast, guys!” said Tockwell. “The best bunch of non-JAG guys on this entire roster! A toast to the future!”
“Hear hear!” yelled VIP.
“A toast to me becoming the NEXT WORLD CHAMP tonight when I scrub Derecho with a little Gift of Gab and win me the title!”
“Hear hear!” said El Principe.
“And a toast to me getting some tail!” said Raul. “Enjoy, champs! You’ve earned it!”
A ching-ching toast of champagne glasses was observed as VIP, cheered on by the ladies, called for music. When the first track kicked in, we got a little bit of Victor-oke.
"Call you up in the middle of the night...."
Suddenly, Ingram couldn't remember the words. The girls did, but Price played along with his 'ne-ne-ne' repetition until he got to the part he did know.
"Runaway train...never going back. one-way on a one-way track. Seems like they should be getting somewhere....somehow Vic and Tyson are neither here nor there."
Not content with murdering Soul Asylum's hit, he had changed the words too: "Yeah, we derailed the Runaway Train and you know what? They're never coming back."
Vic's words were toasted as he winked at Principe, who just raised a glass back at his partner. Price dragged his pair of beauties under the water with him, causing a score of squeals.
This celebration may last long into the night - or the year.
‘Frontline’ by Pillar.
The moment the beats started up and the LED ribbon flickered to life, the NBW faithful let loose with a roar of boos directed at the crimson red suited Paragon of the Industry as he stepped out on the stage. Tonight there was something different about him as his heavy was nowhere to be seen - having been suspended for thirty days due to the attack on a fan at our last episode of SLAM..
“This next match is schedule for one fall with a fifteen minute time limit! Introducing first, weighing in at two hundred and sixty pounds, he is the Paragon of the Industry… he is ZED!”
Zed made his way down the ramp, alone but with all the confidence he usually carried. Making his slow walk around the ring before stepping on inside. Brent Williams quickly got out of his way worried he was going to take the microphone but Zed simply took to his corner. He already did some speaking tonight - and his actions told the tale just as well earlier with Quinlan.
“And his opponent-” begun Williams.
Every section of lights in the arena suddenly shut off with a loud resounding ‘click’. Handheld phones and devices cast about what little light could be mustered as two purple spotlights shone down over the ring.
‘Pretty Little Psycho’ by Porcelain Black.
The spotlights trailed slowly up the ramp to the stage and on the curtains… they remained there as the music continued but we soon found the entrance video cut away to a live camera feed just on the other side of the gorilla. A second later a blur went in and out of the picture, followed by what appears to be a woman in black.
The camera man got himself into a steady position and refocused on the action just as Michelle Couli sent Zhalia Fears face first into the concrete wall. She waited for Fears to turn around and popped her up in the air dropping her head first into the production equipment chest. The cameras cut back to ringside where Zed had a knowing smile as Couli grabbed her by the colored ends and dragged her across the chest and down to the ground.
She grabbed a handful of her hair and tugged her with her towards the curtain where the camera once again swapped views back to the frontside. The music already having faded out or been cut, Fears finally emerged through the curtains. Head first, courtesy of booting her in the back from behind.
The official Simon Brack left the ring and made his way up the ramp to separate Michelle from Fears. But not before she got ahold her and pulled her back up to her feet. With a look at Zed, she straddled her leg over Zhalia’s outstretched arm and blew him a kiss - BLACKOUT! Right on the ramp grating!
Brack pulled her away and then got between the two just as a group of EMTS and officials came rushing down.
Fears was out cold. Her forehead once more split open after healing up from two weeks ago, and the blood was running down her face. Zed all the while looked on as Couli was escorted to the back. Fears was checked over then helped to her feet by two of the EMTs and slowly walked back up the ramp.
Zhalia however dropped into a seated position and shook her head. They tried to help her up again but she shrugged them off and called Brack over.
‘Put me in coach.’
‘Zhalia, you’re injured… and bleeding! We need to get you checked out in the back. I can’t-’
‘I can do this. Do not disappoint these fans Simon!” She looked up at him and waited.
‘Alright. Fine. This is a scheduled match so we won’t throw it out.” Brack waved the EMTs off and to head on back. ‘Once I’m back at the ring you’ve got until ten to get in between those ropes, otherwise I’m awarding the victory to Zed. Got it?’
‘Got it.’ She nodded and stretched her arms out as Brack headed down. She pointed back at the EpiCenter. Somebody in the back knew what she wanted. ‘Pretty Little Psycho’ by Porcelain Black started up once more.The lights once more clicked off, and she sat there bobbing her head to the music before spinning around and standing up.
Zhalia waited for the chorus to start up and dashed down the ramp, skipping her usual tradition and sliding on into the ring. She took to the corner and bobbed her head over the turnbuckle as Brack came over to check her once more. But she wanted to move forward so Brack turned around and called for the bell.
Ding ding ding!
RUNNING BOOT TO THE CHEST!
Zed struck first with a heavy boot to the chest of Fears as she walked out of the corner. Zed circled her as she was getting back up, grabbing her arms from behind and locking them in. He was going for the kill shot already it seemed. Znnihilated. However she struggled to get free, getting them the few paces across the ring to the ropes where she got her leg over the ropes.
Fears ducked under the top rope to get distance but Zed kept his clutch at the waist. She wiggled to get free, then spun around with a forearm to the face, which Zed ducked low to avoid while pushing her into the ropes and spinning her around. Hooking her again this time with under the shoulders. Fears struggled but Zed launched backwards with the Dragon Suplex!
Zhalia crashing face first into the mat. Her impact leaving a bit of a blotch from the blood and if this was two weeks ago she would have once again been the loser. This night however wasn’t a First Blood match. Lucky for her. After all can you even start said match when one opponent is clearly bleeding? Question for another time! Zed’s not going to wait as he rolled Zhalia over and hooked the leg.
And that was it as she shot her far shoulder off the mat. Zed got off her as she rolled over onto her stomach and reached for the ropes to help her up but they were still too far. Zed walked back over and picked her up by the hair then the head, before popping her up on his shoulders.
Zed raised her up high, then much to the disgust of the fans he tossed her forward and watched as she landed flat on the mat and flopped around like a fish on land. Zed took great pleasure in stepping over her body, while stepping on the back of her calf, before straddling her and yanking her up by the head and locking her arms over and behind his thighs.
He sat back forcing her to bend while driving his left fist into forehead several times. A few more blows and he shoved her down with the release . But it was short lived as he hooked her head again, this time raising her up for a vertical suplex, but instead of dropping her behind he dropped her over the top rope. Hanging there by the midsection, he coldclocked her with another hard right.
She was out and the Paragon of the Industry walked over to the other corner, ducking through the ropes and climbing up top. Without a second of hesitation Zed jumped off. DROP SHOT I!!! His flying knee drop connected with Zhalia’s spine and folded her over and into the ring.
Zed grabbed her boot and pulled her away from the ropes, then folded the same leg forward for the pin.
No! Zhalia with the kick out.But zero movement afterward as she laid face first on the mat following. Once again Zed stepped over her, stomped on her back and wrenched her back again. This time he didn’t lower and instead chopped her across the exposed and stretched neck.
He dropped her again and grabbed her head to pull Zhalia to her feet again, but she struck his ribs and thighs to get free before being raised up with another vertical suplex or not as he spun around and dropped her with the falcon arrow right into the pin.
Kick Out just after two!
When you face Zed in the ring, it doesn’t matter if you’re another male, a woman, cruiserweight, a giant or even a heavy like Rune. You’re his target and Zed was showing no mercy or care as he once again pulled the woman that should have been in the back getting stapled back up, right up to her feet. Or knees in this case, pulling her head between his legs and raising her up for the powerbomb!
Zed backed them a few steps into the corner and then went forward with the running powerbomb variation! Only Zhalia countered out with a hurricanrana! The momentum sending Zed into the corner. Zhalia realizing she had a chance rushed him with a splash but but Zed shot his foot up and knocked her loopy.
Zed broke from the corner and wrapped his arms around her waist. German Suplex!
Zhalia LANDED ON HER FEET!
The fans cheered and chanted for Zhalia as she was finally showing life in her battered body. Zed couldn’t believe it as he got up and turned to see she was standing flat and not on her back. Zhalia swept across her forehead, clearing out the red plus her hair to free up her sight. Zed charged at her, Zhalia went low ducking his arm and coming up around.
German Suplex! And this one Zed wasn’t landing on his feet.
Zhalia could hardly snap to her feet but she used the ropes to pull herself up while Zed was recovering on the opposite side. Seeing this she dashed at him again, RIGHT into a clothesline that turned her inside out!
Folded up with shoulders on the mat he dropped over her.
Nope! Not yet. A resilient bugger, was Zhalia. Zed, just an evil bastard. Grabbing her by the purple locke's he pulled her over into the corner, then dropped a knee across her throat. He held it there while Simon Brack counted until he released to avoid the disqualification. That would only follow with using the same knee to joust her head and then raise her up against the ropes.
Zed seated her on the top turnbuckle, then hooked her once again. It was anybody's guess as to what he had planned. This time he propped her up on his shoulders and started to stand. Hooking his arm around her head and neck it was clear he was going for a top rope Air Raid Clash!
His opponent however wasn’t going down that easily as she struck with her elbows and kicked her legs to connect with anything she could forcing Zed to drop her back on the buckle. Fears continued to land strikes until she got Zed bending forward and as she pummeled him across the back she raised up to her feet and straddled his back.
Zhalia leaned forward, grabbing for the heels as they came off the top with the Code Red!
No! Zed kicked out at the last possible moment. He wasn’t prepared for that and it caught him off guard, but Zhalia was back to her feet already and hopped up on the top turnbuckle they just came from. Zed back to his feet and turning around only to get Zhalia’s legs wrapped around his head as she spun him around with the hurricanrana sending him into the far corner.
Zed stumbled from the posts right into a spinning hook kick that knocked him down flat on his back. Fears running on fumes, grabbed Zed’s wrist and pulled him from the ropes, then twisted and dropped back on her back with the cross arm breaker! Zed however managed to roll to his side and roll her up.
But instead of the pin he started to lift her off the mat still clinging on his arm and using her free arm to strike at his caught arm. He got her up in the air and into a powerbomb position only to rush and drive her back first into the top of the turnbuckle and once more putting her into a seated position up high.
Once again he pulled her up into a fireman's carry, and once again Fears fought to get free. Which resulted in Zed dropping her off - to the outside - but Fears landed on her feet and in pure instinct she popped up on the apron and SNAPPED Zed’s face with an enziguri!
Zed tumbled off the corner onto the apron while Fears rolled back inside. She reached over the ropes to pull him up but when that wasn’t working she ducked through and got him over the second rope. Then took a few steps back and rushed him with a knee to the temple. Zed shot forward with a shoulder to her ribs and vaulted her up and over the rope, but Fears landed on the apron next to him.
He struck her across the chest and got a swift kick in return to the head courtesy of the second rope. This time she ducked in and grabbed Zed by the mask, pulling him halfway into the ring. Not her usual placing, preferring the top rope, but - PICK YOUR PILL! The elevated dragonscrew NECKwhip somehow worked.
Zhalia rushed to the corner and climbed up top looking for the Rabbit, but as the fans started to boo she too got her attention to the source. Michelle Couli was back. Walking down the ramp in her spiked heels like she owned the place. She strolled around the outside of the ring over to the corner where Zhalia was and then around to Zed.
The official Brack was quick to get her to stay clear but with Zed still grounded, Fears turned her focus. DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE!
The corkscrew moonsault connected with Couli, crashing them both back into the barricade. Fears taking the worse of it with her head bouncing off. Zed was back up to his feet looking out at the damage and ordering Brack to start his ten count but the official was more concerned about the landing of Fears at the moment.
The fans cheered as a man clad in a grey sweatshirt and hoodie jumped the guardrail opposite the ring and slid into the ring. Zed saw him and swung out, getting nothing but a fistful of air as the man in grey ducked. A skip backward and back up, the hood slid down to reveal Quinlan - somehow still standing after that hellacious No DQ match earlier and Zed’s impact then.
The tension peaked in the EpiCenter, because everyone knew what it meant if Quinlan laid a hand on Zed, most of all, Zed himself. Throwing his arms up, Zed dared Quinlan to do something.
“This is cute. Go ahead, Mr. Big Damn Hero. Throw away your shot to save the psycho bitch,” the mics could pick up from the lips of Zed.
Zed left himself wide open, and goaded Quinlan to move. He got a little shaken when he did. Quinlan rushed at Zed, and slid between his legs to pop up behind him. With a wide smile, he waited for Zed to turn back. Now it was his turn to wave Zed on.
For his part, Zed knew he had a free pass to take a pound of flesh out of Quinlan and he seemed intent to deal away with the distraction. Zed raced in, looking for his Spinebuster/Spear variant, but got a shoulder full of the ringpost thanks to an impeccably well timed leapfrog from Quinlan.
Surveying his situation, Quinlan backed away, and out to the floor opposite of the wreckage that was Misses Fears and Couli. He turned to the crowd to take a bow eliciting a chant of “Ole!”
Brack had already started his count finally but Fears was conscious and made for the ring, rolling inside. Right into a series of boots stomping down on her. Zed shucked her up and back down with a spinebuster. Then picked her up and flung her up and over with a toss. As she landed on her feet much to his shock again, Zed charged at her.
She ducked him as he looked to knock her head off, and struck back with a second hook kick. She followed that up with a series of high kicks to the chest and shoulder, backing Zed into the corner.
Zhalia then walked out halfway across the ring and ran back with a running forearm that connected. She spun around and charged across into the opposite corner, and kicked off it to full speed with a second flying forearm, this time taking her feet first through the ropes as she connected with all of it.
Dragging herself through and on the apron she climbed up top and used her boot to kick Zed away from the post. Couli popped back up on the apron and got in the ring, which got Simon Brack over to her. Zed Stumbled out of the corner, Zhalia waited and leaped off the buckle for a third hurracarrana!
Zed caught her and this time his powerbomb connected, right into the double knee backbreaker! Zed with the cover.
And so forth as Zed laid across Fears looking for Brack who was still dealing with Couli, who had already stepped out of the ring and her interference had just backfired.
And she had no idea just how much as Quinlan got back on the apron the opposite side. Zed struck him and Quinlan grinned back, but when Zed went with the spinning knuckle, Quinlan dropped back from the apron and Fears grabbed him under the legs and rolled him up.
Zed Kicked out! But as Brack was quick to point out and -
Ding ding ding!
-the ring of the bell meant he was just slightly too slow. Zhalia Fears was the winner! Quinlan cheered outside the ring but Zed wasn’t having any of it as he kicked Fears from behind while Brack held her hand up as the victor. Quinlan jumped on the apron, but before he could step in, a feminine arm drove up between his legs, and as he clutched down, his legs were swept out from under him by Michelle Couli causing him to drop face first on the apron courtesy of Michelle.
Zed backed off from Fears and set his sights on Quinlan and Michelle. And as Zhalia got back up on her hands and knees. ZNNIHILATION!
The Tony-Jaa Inspired Flying Knee was all she wrote. Or in this case, he. As he took the woman out just as he did Quinlan earlier. Zed laughed as he ducked through the ropes and over Quinlan, joining Couli as the two walked up the ramp together.
Quinlan came through and slid into the ring joining Brack as they checked on Fears, while calling down for some help.
Zed got away this night but soon enough Quinlan will get his hands on him. And likewise Couli’s going to get hers… one night.
At least, that’s what the NBW faithful hope.
The show was already back from break and the next match was going to be the return of a former NBW star versus something of a re-debut for a man hoping to change his career fortunes.
Ring announcer Brent Williams stood in the ring as the lights faded out and suddenly, the hub lights around the entrance started to pulsate several different shades of blue, purple, and yellow. The EpiCenter started to display names.
NIGHT LIFE USA
The names constantly rotated until POLAR flashed. "From Las Vegas, Nevada...weighing two hundred and thirty-six pounds, representing The Nightlife USA...HOTSTREAK."
Earlier in the night his brother Hotstreak had come up short against Freddie Rich in his quest to defeat former champions. Tonight, the former two-time Dynasty Tag Team champion Polar was hoping to have better luck and dash the dreams of young EZ Blaze in his first match as a client of the tenured manager Fenton Woods. Polar received a nice welcome back ovation from the crowd and he stopped in ring waiting for
“All right, Vanilla Ice! Stop, collaborate and listen!”
The fans laughed with Fenton! The white spotlight appeared and inside was the man who was normally known for being the manager to “The Monster of the Mid-South” Warren Spade. Now he was also expanding his managerial skills to the young and amazing high flyer tonight!
“From the bringers of my giant The One-Man Stampede and the Monster of the Mid-South Warren Spade … comes the next great find from I, Fenton Woods! I’ve brought to you a killer giant! Now I bring to you a man with the gift … of aerial artistry!”
He pointed to the stage.
“Introducing … the Great Aerial Artist! The World’s Fastest Athlete! The Picasso of Planchas! The Da Vinci of Dives! The Monet of Moonsaults! The Salvador Dali of Springboards! The Rembrandt of Rope-Running! Everybody please welcome … “
Fenton’s cane was pointed near the stage.
“NBW’s next great success story! Please welcome E! Z! Blaze!!!”
Fenton tapped his cane much as he would for Warren Spade's entrance and the arena went dark again. The crowd was buzzing with much anticipation for a kid with a lot of promise. The arena soon became engulfed in a stream of blue and white lights each flickering for three to four seconds at a time.
An explosion erupted from the stage and out came EZ Blaze in a brand new eagle-inspired costume! The Great Aerial Artist as he was now known basked in the cheers of the crowd as EZ poked his head out from underneath a blue and white cape and cowl combination! Fenton pointed his cane toward the ring.
"Show this raver what for kid!
EZ Blaze shot like a rocket towards the ring and made a big leap underneath the ropes and then flipped to his feet. He pivoted and turned toward a corner far away from Polar and he flew to his feet. He bowed to the crowd and then took off the new cape. Blaze certainly looked more confident in the ring but could that new attitude lend itself to a victory tonight?
One person who was not impressed at all was Erick Davies himself. The man with the screw loose tugged on his beard again and yelled at the referee to start the match. After both competitors were set …
Polar extended his hand out for a handshake and he got it from EZ Blaze in return! But after that, Polar then jumped on the attack early in a big veteran move! The flyer was thrust into the ropes and thrown to the other side.
Polar had plans to attack him with an elbow but Blaze had different ideas in mind. He ducked the first shot, ducked a second elbow, ducked a third kick! By this point he had picked up tremendous speed from three rope runs and collided with Polar’s chest by using a running drop kick! The blow shot Polar across the ring!
When Polar was trying to get his bearings after the big drop kick from EZ Blaze, the Picasso of Planchas took to the sky using a leaping head scissors to snap the bigger Polar over the top rope and sent the Night Life USA member flying out to the floor in grand fashion. The crowd then watched with amazement when EZ Blaze cleared the ropes with a jump and landed on the apron. The cross-fit enthusiast waited for Polar to start getting up before he jumped all the way to the top rope and took flight.
TOP ROPE ASAI MOONSAULT OT THE FLOOR!!!
One big move later and now EZ Blaze was in full control of the match-up! He helped Polar to his feet and pushed him back inside the ring. He leaped to the top rope on his knees and delivered a slingshot rolling senton before trying to pin the returning former two-time Dynasty Tag Team champion.
Polar kicked out!
“Stay on him kid! Make with the flips!” yelled Fenton.
EZ nodded and picked up Polar by his dyed blue hair. He tried to put him into the ropes and into the corner but Polar saw his move attempt coming and as Blaze flew back with another springboard move he got taken down quickly with a drop kick out of mid air! Polar scored with an amazing counter to whatever EZ Blaze had planned and he tried to pin him now.
And this time it was Blaze’s turn to be defiant and kick out. How he did it, Polar did not know, but the NBW veteran took the fight back to the flyer … or so he thought. As he tried to pull him back up to his feet, four gut punches stopped him in his tracks before his next big move could happen. EZ Blaze hit the ropes and slid between Polar’s legs as he came back to his feet. He caught him with a low spinning kick to the gut and followed with a slight Pele-style kick to the face as Polar knelt over.
Polar ended up in the corner and Blaze followed him in with a running elbow strike aimed at his jaw. EZ Blaze tried to get something going with a springboard off the second rope nearby and Polar tried to counter. Instead, EZ Blaze did two full front flips to get across the ring which was downright amazing agility on his part! Polar followed him …
THE CHILL PILL~!!!
All the flips in the world were not going to stop Polar from striking down EZ Blaze with his version on a running single leg drop kick! This time Polar pulled EZ Blaze away from any ropes to save him and hooked the legs tightly with his cover.
But EZ Blaze was not going to be denied in his quest for a big victory tonight! Polar continued to take the fight back to EZ Blaze and hooked the Monet of Moonsaults on his shoulders in the fireman’s carry position. He followed towards the corner with a rolling fireman’s carry slam! After that, Polar hit the ropes and he next landed a jumping knee drop right into the heart of EZ Blaze! Could Polar dash the young high flyer’s hopes of victory tonight?
Close, but no cigar!
The Chill Pill and the fireman’s carry slam and knee drop hadn’t put away EZ Blaze just yet, so Polar had to come up with something fast. He picked up Blaze and dropped him down with a quick slam and then took to the ropes. Polar was a bigger man to be doing quick high flying moves but his finishing move was a deadly frog splash that he called The Cold Snap.
“Watch out, kid!” yelled Fenton.
Blaze looked like he was in la-la land (not the musical movie which is quite excellent) when Polar ascended the top rope. He took flight for the Cold Snap, but EZ Blaze rolled quickly out of the way! Polar didn’t check the weather forecast and didn’t realize a warm front was going to screw up his chances of delivering his finisher!
“Blaze! Blaze! Blaze! Blaze! Blaze!” yelled Fenton.
That was all his doing and soon the Blaze chants got louder as Blaze nipped up to his feet and seemed to gather a big second wind just for the occasion. EZ Blaze leaped over the ropes again and he was on the apron when Polar came charging at him. Blaze stuck his shoulders through the ropes and caught Polar in the chest and then leaped right over his back into a rolling position. The man now dubbed the World’s Fastest Athlete lived up that billing really quick as he hit the ropes twice and then caught an unsuspecting Polar right on the jaw with a huge kick!
Polar was rocked with the kick when Blaze got back to his feet. A low spinning kick to the gut led to another upward kick to the face. That led to another spinning kick to the knee to bring Polar down and then that led to Blaze striking him with a running double knee strike to the face!
Blaze stayed on top of him in the rana pin position and hooked both legs!
Polar kicked out and wasn’t going to let a potential return to NBW be upstaged by the newcomer. Some of the new moves he had been working on in training with Fenton were coming together nicely and Blaze looked ready to end things. As Polar was still trying to figure out what the Great Aerial Arist was doing, he was taken down again as he did a front flip. He caught Polar around the neck …
The souped-up rolling thunder DDT variation spiked Polar right on his dome! Polar wasn’t going anywhere as EZ Blaze started to go up top. He normally finished off opponents with a double rotation moonsault that he called the Blaze of Glory, but tonight he was wanting to bust out something different. The Da Vinci of Dives was on the top rope looking out to the crowd …
The 630 Senton landed perfectly right on top of Polar! EZ Blaze took a second to recover from the amazing dive and then puilled back both legs of the former two-time Dynasty Tag champion for the win!
Blaze had done it! His first match now under the tutelage of Fenton Woods was a successful outing over a former champion in NBW! The crowd reacted in amazement over the new finishing move of EZ Blaze as Fenton started to walk into the ring to greet his new and more confident protégé!
“That’s just the tip of the iceberg, kid!” Said Fenton as he shook the hand of Blaze. “Ooooh … ice puns.”
Polar limped to his feet and his ribs felt like they were on fire after the velocity of the Blazing Star hitting him … but he was a good man and he offered a handshake and greeted Blaze.
“Good one kid. Now I need to go ice my ribs … ow. I’m changing my name.”
Polar’s loss meant that both twin brothers and former Night Life USA members were beat tonight, but they showed why they belonged in the ring with NBW's best. Tonight the victory belonged to a much more confident and a much more action-paced EZ Blaze!
The cameras returned ringside as Polar and Blaze left the ring, setting in on Vanderart and Gains.
The sound of course was courtesy of CG Gains as he faked hurling off to his side, into Melissa's space as it was.
"Don't you dare!" Mel smacked him aside the head and back into his own personal space. "Next time I use the tablet."
"Sorry Mel," rubbing his head he responded while looking down at his phone. "Just felt sick from that show of goody two-shoe sportsmanship. But I'm feeling better now. Do you know why?"
"Because your Gainsgasm is about to happen?"
"That's coming up! But nope! I just got word, which yes I too can get updates from the back, although this was on my cell. Via a text message. This is too good to waste on my headset though. So excuse me for a moment."
With that Gains stood up from his chair, a rare sight during the shows, and walked over to Brent Williams whom was getting ready to call the Main Event. Borrowing his microphone, Gains stepped up on the ring apron and in through the ropes.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, I have BREAKING NEWS!" Gains spoke as he held the microphone out from his lips, "I just got an update regarding a former champion that was injured."
The fans waited in anticipation for news of the former Blitzkrieg champions condition.
"That's right. Despite being injured and put on the shelf, the brave soul and fighter is ready to return to action. And in TWO weeks, our Main Event will see that monster Warren Spade takes on the returning legend and hall of fame'r in the making-"
They cheered. And why not? Great news!
"The Savage of the Ring, RAVAGE!"
Make that, they booed. Jeered. Chanted that Gains sucked, amongst other things. CG on the otherhand was quite proud and dispersed from the ring, tossing the microphone at Williams before taking his seat again.
"You couldn't just announce that here?" Melissa questioned.
"If I did these people wouldn't have heard me. Not that they deserve it with that response, but in two weeks the Main Event is going to be filled with awesome."
"... I'm not sure I know how to respond, and thankfully I don't need to. It's time for our Main Event of the evening!"
NBW World HeavyweightChampionship
In an odd twist of fates, Jake Tockwell defeated Warren Spade for a chance at the NBW World Championship. The same Jake Tockwell that formed a temporary alliance with Derecho in order to get under the skin of Spike Saunders. It just goes to show you that when it comes to the NBW World Heavyweight Championship, all bets are off and that friends can become enemies in an instant. Now the Blitzkrieg champion Jake Tockwell was set to try and add a second title to his collection! Not just any tiutle - the World Heavyweight championship!
All right, the moment you've all been waiting for! The moment where NBW’s fastest rising star becomes the brightest star in NBW!”
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!
“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 … and with all due respect he is the man that will become a double champion after tonight and keep the A-List on the map! Big Talk himself .. 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 also strutted out the Blitzkrieg title that probably hadn’t left his waist since he won it two weeks ago.
“Unde-damn-feated!” yelled Tockwell. “And soon to be your next NBW World Heavyweight champion!!!”
The man known as Big Talk hit the ring and threw off his boas before handing them to the official for the match, Tal Nedrick. He also unstrapped his Blitzkrieg title.
“Hot Sauce … hold my things!”
“You got it, next world champ!”
Raul Ramirez took the boas away from Jake Tockwell and the Memphis brawler entered the ring to much jeers from the crowd. He was in the ring now looking ready to continue the improbable two victories he had over both Brock Newbludd and Warren Spade two weeks ago! This was an odd match where neither man was a crowd favorite. It begged the question of which guy did the crowd hate more? Tockwell entered the ring and warmed up as his music died down.
“Charisma” by WASP
A lone spotlight lights up the stage and we see Derecho with his back to the arena. Derecho was clad in his typical black leather trench coat while sporting a pair of sunglasses. The lights then begin to pulse to the beat of the song in random fashion. Derecho looked over his shoulder and grinned before pivoting and beginning his descent towards the ring. The capacity crowd on hand booed and showed their disdain, but Derecho paid no mind to them.
Derecho stopped at the bottom of the entrance ramp and then turned to his left. He stomped up the steel ring steps and stepped into the ring between the middle and the top rope. Derecho made his way to the center of the ring where pulsing spotlights illuminated him from different angles. Derecho stretched out his arms and looked up toward the rafters as he wanted the NBW fans to bask in his glory. Derecho then flicked his wrists and removed his sunglasses followed by his trench coat, unveiling the NBW World Title, passing them off to ringside. Derecho then unfastened the championship and handed it over the referee who held it up high before calling for the bell.
Derecho and Tockwell circled each other in the ring. Tockwell went for a handshake, but anyone who would willingly take a world title opportunity against someone that was supposed to be an ally got no respect from Derecho. Derecho brushed Tockwell’s hand away and that caused Tockwell to pause for a moment. Tockwell looked at his hand and shook his head before quickly changing gears and snapping off a right hand to the side of Derecho’s head! Tockwell fired a second, then a third, then a fourth, but Derecho put an end to that with a knee lift to the stomach. It was Derecho’s turn! He hit a left, then a right, then a left, then another right… those trademarked combination blows of Derecho rocked Tockwell back. Derecho went for the Irish Whip, but Tockwell reversed and sent Derecho into the ropes instead. Derecho bounced off the ropes and ran right into a huge shoulder block, knocking him down.
Tockwell paused a moment to admire his handiwork before taking off to the ropes. Derecho flipped over to his stomach causing Tockwell to step over and hit the opposite side. Derecho popped up and caught Tockwell, planting him with a Double A Spinebuster! Derecho flipped into the first cover of the match, hooking the leg.
Tockwell powered out at just barely a one!
Derecho backed off as Tockwell got up to his feet. Derecho nodded in acceptance of that and the two circled each other again. This time it was a traditional collar and elbow lock up. Tockwell used his slight size advantage to power Derecho back into the corner. Tockwell hit back elbow after back elbow, stunning the world champion. Tockwell took a few steps back and charged the corner, looking for a running splash, but Derecho returned the favor and made Tockwell eat a back elbow as well! Tockwell staggered out of the corner as Derecho charged in from behind, taking Tockwell down to the canvas with a Running Bulldog.
Tockwell began to get back to his feet as Derecho waited. Derecho hit the ropes, looking for a Shining Wizard, but Tockwell moved his head, grabbed Derecho and lifted him up to his shoulder while standing at the same time..
WHAT A COUNTER!
Tockwell into the cover..
Derecho with the shoulder up!
Derecho looked a little loopy after that powerbomb as Tockwell turned the tide of the match in his favor with just one move. Tockwell stayed on Derecho, grabbing a fist full of hair and pulling him up to his feet. Tockwell lit up Derecho with quick right jabs before going for his patented Discus Punch.. The Talk to the Hand, but Derecho ducked it, reached back and went for a Hangman’s Noose Neckbreaker, but Tockwell quickly pivoted and grabbed Derecho in a waist lock. German Suplex attempt by Tockwell, but Derecho flipped over and landed on his feet. Derecho backed into the ropes and went for a running lariat, but Tockwell ducked. The two of them turned around where Derecho was met with a kick to the stomach in the middle of the ring. Tockwell hooked Derecho by the waist and lifted him up to shoulder height, looking for a Gutwrench Powerbomb, but Derecho slipped off of Tockwell’s shoulder, landing behind him, but Tockwell stuck his leg out backwards and low blowed Derecho on the way down and he did it in such a way where the referee didn’t catch it!!
Tockwell grinned because he knew he had gotten away with one. Tockwell turned and dropped an elbow into Derecho’s back while he was on all fours, collapsing him down to the canvas. Tockwell mounted Derecho and began to lay down heavy punches to the back of Derecho’s head. Derecho tried to cover up, but the punches found their mark anyway. The referee started his mandatory five count and Tockwell took every second of that count as he could to inflict punishment on the world champion.
Tockwell stood up and was backed away by the referee. Derecho slowly began to stand up and just when Derecho was vertical, Tockwell blasted him from behind with a Northern Lariat, causing Derecho to damn near faceplant into the canvas! Tockwell quickly turned the world champion over and made a cover, hooking the leg deep!
Derecho kicked out once again! Jake Tockwell was beginning to learn about Derecho’s legendary resilience.
Tockwell felt the best course of action would be to stay on Derecho. He pulled the champion up to his feet and wound up for another attempt at his discus punch. Derecho, again, ducked it and the two turned around. This time it was Tockwell that was met with a kick to the stomach. Derecho quickly hooked Tockwell and took him over with a Vertical Suplex. Derecho hung on, turned over and pulled Tockwell up. He hit a Snap Suplex on Tockwell and continued to hold on. Derecho turned over, pulled Tockwell up and then went for a third, but Derecho changed it up mid-move. Instead of the Split-Legged Gordbuster, he tried to convert that into the Emerald Flowsion Kai variation of the A Forever Reminder, but Tockwell must have studied Derecho because he was ready for it! Tockwell slipped off behind Derecho, spun and….
TALK TO THE HAND TO THE BACK OF THE HEAD!!
Derecho went down in a heap! Derecho couldn’t counter what he couldn’t see and he hit the canvas hard! Tockwell wasted no time pulling Derecho over onto his back and making the cover!
Derecho with the shoulder up again!
Tockwell wasn’t phased by this. He knew it would take more than that and a grin came over his face. He stood up and wound up his arm as he slowly backed off. Derecho staggered to his feet and that’s when Tockwell took off to the ropes. He charged in at full speed, looking for the Talk Down… his lariat from hell, but Derecho put his head down and it caused a swing and a miss. Derecho used Tockwell’s momentum to get under his arm, pick him up and spin him out into the Blue Thunder Driver! He held Tockwell down for the cover!
Tockwell kicked out!
Derecho quickly stood and backed up. Tockwell was getting to his feet when Derecho lunged in…
Tockwell popped the shoulder up after almost having his lights turned off completely!
Derecho stood and motioned that he was going to put Tockwell away. He bent over and grabbed Tockwell by his golden blonde hair and pulled him up to his feet. He hoisted Tockwell onto his shoulder, but Tockwell wriggled free and landed behind Derecho. Tockwell shoved Derecho forward a few steps and when Derecho turned around, Tockwell steamrolled Derecho with a harsh knee lift to the stomach.
Derecho held his stomach and dropped to a single knee. Tockwell hammered away at the top of Derecho’s head before taking off to the ropes. Tockwell came back, looking for a running bgi boot, but Derecho returned the favor from earlier by grabbed Tockwell mid-move and standing up with him on his shoulders! Derecho ran forward and pivoted, dropping Tockwell with a Spiral Bomb…
Derecho got to his feet as Tockwell was laid out. Derecho headed to the corner and ascended the turnbuckle pads. He took aim on Tockwell and leapt off…
Derecho couldn’t capitalize as that huge knee lift did damage and the Frog Splash further accented that damage! Derecho was down and out on the canvas as was Tockwell..
“Ref! Ref! Ref! Hey!”
Raul Ramirez had been sitting silent watching this NBW World title match with baited breath but now he finally leaped into action to try and get the referee’s attention. The referee turned towards him and yelled at Hot Sauce to get off the apron while the match was going on. As that continued to happen, the fans cheered for the appearance of none other than Sally Reynolds!
the ring apron and got in her face, but it was something he paid for with a slap!!!
The NBW EMT and girlfriend of the ex-Blitzkrieg champion Brock Newbludd walked towards ringside and she grabbed Raul by the leg! He jumped off
“That’s for Brock!” yelled Sally.
Jake was caught up in what was going on between the two and he tried to help his manager, but Derecho struck a blow from behind! Derecho grabbed Tockwell by the neck. A Forever Reminder was coming but Jake shoved him away. Derecho ran towards him but Jake pulled the referee in the way! The official was down!
Derecho turned his attention on Tockwell who struck him with a right hand! He then quickly and expertly undid the top turnbuckle padding and threw it down. He then had every intention of bashing Derecho’s head into it, but Derecho blocked before he could hit it and caught Jake with a back elbow for his troubles! The two were exchanging blows continuing all over the ring. .
Back on the outside, Sally was winding up for another slap when she had her arm grabbed by Victor Ingram Price!
“Not this time, sugar-tits!” yelled VIP.
She tried to get away and Raul and El Principe both laughed. Nobody knew what the A-List were going to do next, but nobody would find out!
THE UNSTOPPABLES WERE HERE!!!
The 2016 Tag Team of the Year and the ex-Dynasty tag team champions weren’t supposed to be here tonight, but former NBW World champion Vic Gravender and Tyson XL both charged down the ring and they chased the three men back through the crowd.
“Get back here and fight you fuckers!” yelled Vic.
The new champions had made enemies of the old champions with their heinous actions from two weeks ago and now they were on the run because of it! Sally cheered on the Unstoppables and she left which now left all but Tockwell and Derecho back in the ring. Derecho had the advantage as he doubled Tockwell over with more punches to the gut. He was down and out on the ring apron and then flew into the air for the Straight Line Strike …
GIFT OF GAB IN MID-AIR~!!!
Derecho’s springboard lariat was stopped cold by a bigger one from Tockwell! Tockwell might have just won the World title right then and there and he covered Derecho!
He could have had the championship, but the official was still down and out! Tockwell saw a golden opportunity to dole out more damage and rolled outside the ring to grab a chair! These two were just loose allies in their war against Warren Spade a while ago, but if Tockwell had proven anything in his brief NBW stay it was that he was a very opportunistic man. He slid into the ring and had intent to crack Derecho …
SPIKE SAUNDERS STOPPED HIM!!!
Not for helping out Derecho in any fashion of course, but they had some words last week and after Spike had verbally accosted him, Raul Ramirez had maced his sunglasses backstage! This was no doubt payback!
“Hey! Get the hell out of here, you big JAG!” yelled Tockwell.
Saunders took the chair and slammed it down and dared Tockwell to do something about it. Tockwell ignored him and turned back to Derecho. He grabbed the champion by his arm and tried tossing him into the exposed turnbuckle he started earlier, but Derecho must have been playing possum! He spun him around and tossed Tockwell into the exposed buckle! Then Derecho struck …
A FOREVER REMINDER~!!!
A grin crossed the face of Saunders and he walked away while Derecho covered Tockwell.
The great rising star named Jake Tockwell had proven that he could hang with the top men in NBW in the last few weeks with big victories over Brock Newbludd and Warren Spade but right now Derecho had proven he was just as adept at being an opportunist as much as Tockwell and handed the Blitzkrieg champion his first loss in NBW! The new A-List had made many enemies with their actions and thievery two weeks ago, but now their action had cost them all tonight when Tockwell was so close to gaining the NBW World Heavyweight championship.
Tockwell had fallen out of the ring and he made his way to the floor and collected his Blitzkrieg title. That left Derecho all alone in the ring now after another very close fight but another successful title defense under his belt.
He had a grin on his face and nothing could ruin it.
Or so he thought.
An Unexpected Proposal
He turned his attention to who was on the ramp.
A very angry and irate Warren Spade stormed down to ringside. The last time this had happened ended with Derecho getting laid out so instinctively, he had the title in his hand ready to finish what he started when he jumped Warren Spade two weeks ago after his match with Tockwell.
“Look here you gutless piece of shit!” yelled Spade. “We can do this song and dance. You attack me and I attack you until we’re both dead. You interfered in my match with Tockwell because you’re scared of fighting me again. I dominated you at Pride. I beat your ass from pillar to post and all you did was take cheap shots to get the win. You aren’t the King of Hell as you like to think … you’re just a bitch.”
Derecho was angry at the thought of that but he angrily stole a microphone from Brent Williams and shoved him aside.
“I’m tired of this!” screamed Derecho. “You can’t stand the fact that I’m right. You were a monster and you were a dominant force, but you’ve become this caring and emotional little whiner who can’t stand the fact that he got beat. You care about your little friend Fenton and because of that, you don’t have the drive to be a champion; not like I do!”
“Twist the truth all you want, Derecho,” replied Spade, “but you and I both know the truth: if I had one more opportunity, I would drive your ass through that mat and I would take that NBW World Heavyweight championship from you! There wouldn’t be anything you could do about it.”
The Monster of the Mid-South turned to Derecho.
“Besides … if you’re as confident as you say that you can beat me, then you wouldn’t mind giving me another opportunity. I’ll even let you pick the stipulation. You can have whatever match you want, Derecho. I will earn my opportunity any way you see fit if it means I get one more shot at the belt. What do you say, o mighty King of Hell?”
Derecho mulled it over for a few moments quietly. He looked at his title and the gears looked like they were turning in that evil head of his.
“It puts a smile on my face to hear you practically beg me. Soon, you will be demanding and you will prove me right all along… that you truly have gone soft. Despite being the person that I am, I truly do have a heart, which is why I save you from the embarrassment of having to grovel at my feet for a championship opportunity. On Slam 88 in two weeks, there will be a match with me - non-title! If by some act of God I lose, then you’ll get a title match against me at 25 to Life with my championship on the line.”
The crowd cheered for that potential match! Warren Spade nodded in agreement.
“Me getting to kick your ass before 25 to Life to get another chance to take the title? You’re on.”
Warren looked pretty happy with how this turned out, but Derecho’s grin hinted at there being more to this.
“What? You think of a good joke?” asked Warren.
“Yeah … you thinking that you are my opponent,” said Derecho. “I said it’d be a match against me, but I never said it would be you facing me.”
Warren angrily snarled. “What bullshit are you trying to pull?”
“The kind where I need to teach you another lesson about the giant sap you’ve become. I heard the rumblings back there that Fenton Woods is managing EZ Blaze so you have no more distractions against me. You can try and deny it all you want, but we both know that all this stems from me laying out your little gimp of a manager. You care about his well-being and anybody associated with him.”
Derecho’s evil grin was even wider now.
“If you want this match for the title at 25 To Life … then Fenton’s little buddy, EZ BLAZE will have to fight me!”
Warren was shocked by the revelation. He balled up his fists and nearly crushed the microphone in his massive hand.
“No deal, asshole!!!”
“Those are my terms! Since you care so much about Fenton and your new little buddy, then he’ll need to earn his keep. And if you remember, the last time he was in the ring with me, I nearly ended his career. You’ll have to put your faith in somebody else and you’ll have a front row seat to me ending that masked little bastard’s career all so you can get a shot at redemption!”
Warren nodded his head.
“You piece of shit, that isn’t my call to make ... “ said Spade. “I’m not going to ask anyone else to fight my battles for me. If you were a real champion, you wouldn’t invent all these stupid hoops.”
Derecho said nothing but gave Warren a half hearted shrug of his shoulders.
“Oh well. Looks like I’m taking 25 to Life off.”
Derecho smiled and Warren stormed toward the ring. He was not going to play into Derecho’s games and looked like he was going to repeat the last Slam. However a voice stopped him.
“As their manager, I accept!”
The One-Man Stampede stopped in his tracks and he saw both Fenton Woods and EZ Blaze standing on top of the ramp! Blaze pointed at Derecho in the ring and Fenton Woods.
“Fenton, no!” yelled Spade.
“Hey, my boy, I only agreed verbally to leave you alone while I tended to EZ Blaze, but I’m still your manager which means I can accept deals on your behalf.” he turned to the ring. “Derecho, we accept your challenge!”
Spade turned to his manager with an angry look and then back to Derecho who was watching this drama unfold with delight.
“No! I don’t accept his terms!”
Derecho laughed at Spade. “Looks like you’ve been spoken for, Warren. Whether you like it or not, your championship opportunity now rests on someone else’s soon-to-be-broken shoulders. Blaze, you have two weeks to kiss your career goodbye.”
Derecho dropped his microphone and then raised the title while EZ Blaze stood on the ramp. He didn’t look afraid of the King of Hell but Spade stood in the middle angry with these dealings. He would have to put his faith into a kid he respected, but hardly knew on a personal level to get the title shot that he wanted at 25 to Life.
With that the show came to an end!
Welcome to Slam - Dusty
Darren Best Versus Ali Amore - Keegan
Ebony and Ivory ... Whoops I Mean Fire and Ice - Markus
Ant Rushton Versus The Great Wall - Keegan
If You're Not In, You're Out Part 1 - Markus/Keegan
Ke'ala Ohana Versus the Handsome Man Modeling School - Seth
Alyx Norwood Versus Quinlan - Mitchell
Paragoning Done Right - Mitchell
Flanagan & Doherty Versus The Rich Family - Keegan
A Royalty's Pain - Dusty
Freddie Rich Versus Hotstreak - Keegan
De Reckonin' - Gorman
Davey La Rue Versus Erick Davies - Gorman/Brenden(end)
If You’re Not In … You’re Out, Part 2 - Markus/Keegan
Zed Versus Zhalia Fears - Dusty
Polar Versus E.Z. Blaze - Markus
Next Week - Dusty
Jake Tockwell Versus Derecho - Josh