Turmoil 102

Faint by Linkin Park begins blaring from the speakers. The familiar guitar solo and the sharp snare of the drums wakes up the crowd. Heads start nodding to the beat, and a distinct murmur of of curiosity runs through the crowd. Who’s coming out?

I am a little bit of loneliness, a little bit of disregard. Handful of complaints but I can't help the fact that everyone can see these scars...

The lyrics only serve to confuse the audience. Who walks out to a song that suggests they have scars?

As a familiar figure emerges from the back the crowd pops in approval. B-17 has arrived in OCW!

A smile breaks across B-17 face as he makes his way down the ramp. His obvious excitement can’t be held back and he stops briefly as the chants of “B-17! B-17! B-17!” wash over him.

The chants finally begin to fade when B-17 enters the ring, but as he reaches over the top rope for a mic, chants of “welcome” break out.

The crowd comes to attention as B-17 gestures for them to listen.

B-17: Happy to see me?

Crowd pops in appreciation.

B-17: (Smiles as he paces the ring) I’m a simple guy. I like to keep things simple. So simply put I’m here for two reasons. (Holds up one finger) Flesh, (Holds up a second finger) and blood.

Crowd considers these words with small pops of chatter.

B-17: Oh don’t get me wrong! I’m not here to claim that I’m going to leave my opponents in bloody messes, I’m not here to claim that I’m here to lay waste to the roster. No, no, no. I’m here...because I’M REAL! Standing here, right in front of you, breathing in the same damn air you're breathing in, hearing the same damn chants you’re shouting. This ain't no prerecorded bullshit. This is OCW live, baby!

Crowd roars in approval.

B-17: I’m here for me! I’m here for the blood. I’m here for the sweat. I’m here for the tears. The pain, the suffering, the the cheers, the jeers. I’m here for the fights and the long ass nights. And I’m here for you!
,
Crowd gives a small cheer.

B-17: (Pauses to mull his words, his voice is calm when he speaks) This is authentic, this is from the heart. This speech doesn’t get a second take. This face doesn't get a touch up. There is no black room for dramatic effect. There is no camera following me in the back artistically shooting to hide my face just to add an air of mystery. With me there isn’t much mystery. You get what you see, and don’t lie. You see an ass kicking, spine tingling, guaranteed violent brawl. Mors Ab Alto (death from above).

B-17: Consider this my declaration to the guys in the back...Claim to be immortal, claim to be gods, wear your eyeliner and work on those special effects. I will be right here, the place that I love. Flesh and blood, just like you. You will feel pain, you will taste defeat, you will be battered, bruised and broken. You will bleed. And it’s me... B-17 WHO PROMISES IT ALL!

(B-17 drops the mic)

Crowd chants “B-17!”

Just as B-17 tosses the mic, “These Colors Don’t Run” by Iron Maiden hits the speakers like a .50 Cal to the head. The cheers and chants can’t be heard over the deafening sound of Bruce Dickinson screaming out the chorus. “For the passion, for the glory, For the memories, for the money, You're a soldier, for your country. What's the difference, all the same.” Jackson Montgomery walks out on the stage and stops to look around the arena. Some fans boo, some fans cheer, but it doesn’t matter to him. He makes his way down the ramp, all the while burning a hole straight through B-17. While the look on his face doesn’t show it, Jackson feels some sort of connection with B-17. He gets to ringside and before climbing the apron and getting into the ring, Jackson removes his leather jacket with “American Made Outlaw” scribbled across the back and tosses it to the floor. As he enters the ring between the top and middle rope, he never breaks his gaze on B-17. Jackson walks past him and grabs the same mic.

B-17 watches intently, never showing him his back.

Jackson: B-17. You and me, we’re the same in a lot of ways. What you see is what you get kind of people. Now, I can’t relate to a lot of the people in the back and it rubs them the wrong way. We’ve got one guy who sits around smoking weed like it’s his life blood in Jookie. (The fans cheer like it’s 4:20) One guy thinks he a real life pirate who came out last week talking about thumb wrestling a vegetable. (Raise the colors chants erupt for a second.) Then there’s Pugh who looks like his next bump could involve a hip replacement.

A handful of people in the crowd chuckle as Jackson wanders around the ring.

Jackson: You and me though? We’re no bullshit, get to the point fellas and I say, introductions aside, let’s whip some veteran ass!

Jackson tosses his mic and sticks his hand out, to which B-17 looks on apprehensively, eventually reaching out to shake it, they lock hands in an attempt to crush the others grip. The crowd erupts in support of the last two real men in wrestling.

Sitting on a small crate backstage is OCW Bombshell Big Bertha Stigglitz. How such a large woman could fit on such a tiny milk crate is a wonder in itself. Nonetheless Betha is lifting a 75 dumbbell weight with her off hand as the dim witted OCW Bombshell Jessica Jessie approaches her.

Bertha: Siebzig (70).

Jessica Jessie: I missed you soooooooooooooooo much!

Bertha ignores and just continues to counting her gains as Jessica embraces her with a unwanted hug.

Bertha: Einundsiebzig (71).

Jessica Jessie: I was wondering since we're the bestest of pals and all...can you help your bestie out....I kinda got inna miss miss comun...in trouble with...

Bertha: Zweiundsiebzig (72).

Jessica Jessie: Berthaaaaaaaaaaaaa I need your help.

Jessica grabs the massive arm of Bertha weaping trying to halt her next lift.

Bertha: Dreiundsiebzig (73).

Jessica Jessie: Please Bertha...it's Betty Ford...they...they told me to find a solar powered flashlight or they...or they were gonna beat me up tonight...please tell me you got one Bertha...please....

Bertha's eyes light up at the mention of Betty Ford, she stops mid lift and drops the dumbbells on the floor with a loud clank. Bertha stands up with Jessica still hanging from her arm and spits on the floor next to the dumbells.

Bertha: Betty Fawd, Bertha break!

The look on Bertha's face is of pure determination and possibly a bit of hatred.

Bertha: Come stupid girl.

Bertha grabs Jessica by the scruff of her neck like a Black bear hoisting a cub and storms down the hallway.

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Smythe paces around the ring for the fans to take him in. His hands are in his pockets as he calls for a microphone.

Smythe: So this is the new Turmoil? It looks good. Nice batch of Rookies. Aries... It looks like you guys have the premise of a good show here.
I'll be honest when I heard Turmoil was coming back I had a lot of questions. Who's going to carry the show? Who will the breakout stars be? How will they compete with Riot. Then it came to me.

The fans are expecting Smythe to announce that he will be wrestling on Turmoil and the anticipation heats up as Smythe keeps walking around.

Smythe: Get that out of your heads right away. I won't be coming to Turmoil on any permanent basis. As they say home is where the heart is. I've claimed Riot as my show and that's where I'll stay. But I saw where this show has a chance to make it.
The Bombshells. A Highly underutilized division. Women of wresting with real talent. I saw last weeks Bombshell match and It was less than visually appealing.

Smythe: Which has always been the case for the Bombshells. Does anyone want to watch these ladies wrestle? While I was gone I was out in Texas on some business when I came across the future of the Bombshell Division.

Smythe: Let's just say, I spent a lot of time in El Paso after that. So much that the wife started complaining that I was spending all of my time out there. So I did what any respectable man would do when comfonted by the wife about what I do on my spare time. I GOT A DIVORCE AND I BROUGHT THIS WOMAN TO OCW.

The mixed explosion of a reaction was enough for Smythe to point to the stage ramp as the area is on fire.

The camera fades in showing The Shogun of Compton, Andre Black. He’s taping his wrists in black tape, preparing for his tag team match later on tonight against the man who beat him last week and his partner. Andre finishes taping his wrist, and sits down on the bench beside him. He begins to lace up his black boots as his partner, Slamurai Jack, walks in off camera. The door is heard closing as Andre continues lacing his boots; not paying any mind to who entered the dressing room.

Slamurai Jack – “There he is! My ni---“ Andre quickly interrupts Jack before he can say the unspeakable on a PG TV show.

Andre Black – “Whoa, whoa. First of all my brother, don’t you dare ever say that word in front of me. Secondly, what the hell are you doing anywhere near The Shogun before our match? The Shogun doesn’t want to look at someone like you.”

Slamurai scoffs at Andre’s holier than thou attitude, and tries to quickly rebuttal.

Slamurai Jack – “The hell is that supposed mean, Farrakhan?!”

Andre stands up and gets in Jack’s face.

Andre Black – “Little brother, it means that you look like you smell like cat piss. The Shogun could practically smell your ungodly scent before you came into the dressing room.”

Slamurai Jack – “This mothatrucka. Who da hell you think is, Arnold Schwarztenegro?! You want to talk ish? Last week, you lost! I won! You know what? Let me spit some knowledge for ya…”

Before Slamurai can begin to speak, Andre holds his hand up in protest.

Andre Black – “Don’t you even THINK of “spitting game” at me, young one. Your raps and rhymes are the worst thing Shogun has heard since “Tha Carter III”. I have an idea. How about this? The next time you open your mouth to rhyme, make it about something meaningful. Speak about corruption in white America. Speak about surviving the ghettos and slums of this country. No one, especially The Shogun, wants to hear your Jimmie Walker looking ass spit about money, drugs and scantily clad women.”

Andre Black – “And about losing last week…what does that even matter? Casper the friendly brown man slaying war veteran got a win over me. That’s not a problem. It might have hurt, but this is OCW. I have an entire career ahead of me. How long do you think that redneck cup of milk is going to be around? How long to do you think YOU’RE going to be around?”

Slamurai Jack stands there in a fury, wanting to strike Andre in the jugular.

Andre Black – “You might be mad right now, but you’ll thank me later, young brother. Educate yourself. Please. By any means necessary…”

Slamurai tries to speak, but nothing is coming out. He’s dumbfounded. Instead of saying more to exacerbate the situation, he storms out of the dressing room, slamming the door behind him. Andre shakes his head as the camera fades to black.

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We find ourselves in a very well lit room full of neon lights that are strobing in rhythm to some house music. The camera pans around the room to show numerous people in rave wear either passed out or enjoying the music while sitting on the floor. The only two people not sitting and still dancing are Molly and an unidentified female friend who will refer to as Polly.

Polly: Are you sure you wanna pop another one? Don't you have work tomorrow girlfriend?

Molly: I can do whatever I want! Nobody is the boss of me.

Molly and Polly laugh and put a purple pill onto each other's tongue as they continue to dance.

Polly: It's so good to hang out with you again after all these years. I haven't seen you since you were living with that....that weird blonde girl....

Molly doesn't say anything and is trying to shut out exactly who Polly is trying to remember.

Polly: What was her name again?

Molly: Don't remember honestly. Don't remember at all.

Polly: Come on, I know you remember, you two were roomies for a year.

Molly: Nope, nope, not at all.

Polly: Wait don't you work with her? Doesn't she wrestle?

Molly: Nope, don't know who you are talking about.

Polly: OH! I remember

Molly puts her hands to her ear to drown out what Polly is saying. Polly pulls Molly's hands away from her head....

Polly: Jessica Jessie!

Molly: AHHHHHH! I don't wanna hear that name ever. EVER EVER EVER

Molly starts slamming her hands on the wall while yelling "NO NO NO I HATE HER".

Guy sitting on floor: Is she having a bad trip dude?

Polly: No, not exactly. She just really hates somebody and I forgot. Oopsies.

Molly is still enraged as shes now yelling "I HATE YOU JESSICA, I HATE YOU SO MUCH".

Polly: She will be fine. Just give her some timesies!

Polly smiles as the scene fades away to a still enraged Molly.

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Aries stands around the center of the ring, taking in the crowd. It’s a small crowd due to the nature of the new show, but he’s loving every second. He waves to a few people in the front row, and proceeds to ask for a microphone. A microphone is seen being tossed into the air as Aries catches it. He looks around the crowd once more and smiles. He hasn’t spoken to a live audience in years, so he feels the adrenaline coursing through his body and the excitement shivering down his spine.

He waits for the crowd to die down for him to speak. They don’t seem too excited for just him. They seem excited for Turmoil. A new show filled with new faces. A show that’s going to allow anyone to step up into the spotlight. The crowd finally dies down, and Aries picks his microphone up to speak.

Aries – “You know…it’s been quite a while since I’ve been in this ring. It’s been a while since I’ve been to able to properly express myself to you people.”

Aries puts down the microphone for a second, and runs his fingers through his beard. He smiles once again, lifting up the mic.

Aries – “I have to tell you, it feels damn good. And it feels even better to be Guilderland, New York!”

The crowd roar for the cheap pop.

Aries – “That’s right! You cheer for yourselves. You deserve it! You deserve It for being here. You deserve it for supporting OCW. For supporting this place, even through all of its ups and downs. You deserve it for cheering someone like me who doesn’t deserve it.”

The crowd stop for a minute as Aries lowers his microphone and head in shame.

Aries – “I don’t deserve any kind of welcome. I don’t deserve any kind of praise. I betrayed you all. I betrayed myself. I allowed the words and actions of others to bring me down to the point where I just didn’t care anymore. There are people here that would rather see me leave. They would rather see me walk away once again.”

The crowd boo as Aries tries to quiet them down.

Aries – No, no. Don’t boo them. They’re not wrong. I’ve left this place hanging a few times, and I deserve the backlash. But you know what? It’s about time that changes. They don’t know me! They don’t know Aries! I may not be the best anymore, but I sure as hell am not some pariah you can just cast out like a few select people that shall not be named! I’ve been here for years! I’ve done shady things. I’ve done remarkable things. I’ve done it all. One thing you cannot take away from me; one thing you WILL NOT take away from me is that I helped!”

The crowd cheer.

Aries – “I helped in 2009 when everyone left! I helped and stepped up in 2010 when OCW needed the extra hand. I cemented my legacy in 2012 by having some of the best matches each and every week! I helped on camera AND behind the scenes. I went out of my way to help people that I didn’t need to help! Not because I wanted to praise or respect, but because I wanted this place to THRIVE!”

Aries lowers the microphone once again to breathe. He looks around the arena once more, still getting those shivers down his back.

Aries – “I love OCW. I’ve spent a wrestler’s lifetime helping this place. I don’t care about being rewarded. I don’t care about being loved or hated. I would say I don’t care about being the best, but hell, who doesn’t care about that?! I WANT to be OCW Champion again. I want to be at the top of the mountain once again, but this isn’t about that. This isn’t a story about being the best. My logo might say “G.O.A.T Club”, but I am most certainly just a member and not the owner.

Aries – “My story…it’s about redemption. It’s about giving the fans back what they deserve. And don’t think I’m doing this for anyone else but you guys.”

Aries points to the crowd as the cheer for the returning legend.

Aries – “Don’t cheer for me yet, because I haven’t earned it. But I will. I will earn it. I don’t care what anyone else thinks. I will start from the very bottom. I will wrestle the D-Jacks and the Danes. I’ll wrestle the Badass Bills and the Snakes. I’ll wrestle any man that walks through those curtains! ANY MAN! Any man, myth, legend or monster! Win, lose. It DOESN’T MATTER. What matters is redemption! You can hate me. You can tell someone I’ve never spoken a word to about me and they can hate me, too. You can make my own grandmother hate me! ARIES WON’T QUIT! I’M HERE! I’M HERE FOR GOOD!”

Aries lowers the microphone to take a breath, but quickly lifts it up again.

Aries – “And Trance, you did beat me on Riot. Congratulations. When I’m done on this road to redemption, you’ll hear from me again. Whether you’re the champion or not. Even if you’re in a retirement home by the time I’m redeemed; I will find you! I will pin your ass to that mat like I’ve always done. You might be a “God”, Jacob, but even Gods have lynchpins. I’m going to find yours. No matter the cost! No matter the obstacles! Send one goon after me. Send three! Send the entirey of Jacob Falls after me! I AM ARIES, AND I AM UNBREAKABLE!”

Aries drops the microphone, and stands in the middle of the ring as his music hits. He holds his hand up to the crowd in celebration of his return.

The camera pans to the back and we see Our Hero aka the Big Cheese, aka the Owner Founder Ruler, GRAND POOOBAH, of Online Championship Wrestling, none other than Mr.Sensation.

He can be heard on the telephone.

Mr.Sensation: Things could be better, but you will always have growing pains when you have a new product.

Mr.Sensation: Have you seen the show so far? I know its great!!!!

Mr.Sensation: Yea that Jackson guy is pretty legit, and did you see Kassidy Hayes? But let me tell you something Tiffany, that B-17 kid is unto something I heard some little crumbsnatchers at concession humming some dumb song. They kept singing and Rhyming the rookies name.

Mr.Sensation: An example? Well its like....
B17 A hero for you and me!
B17 he sit down when he pees!
B17 The guy with the pinup tights!
B17 the guy who loves to fight!

Mr.Sensation: Yea kids are weird.........ahem well not my kid right, haha!

Mr.Sensation pauses from his conversation.

Mr.Sensation: Hold on a second Tiffany I've got another call.

Our Hero's seemingly calm demeanor slowly begins to fade.

Mr.Sensation: Slow down, slow down....wait what.

Mr.Sensation: WHAT!!!!@!@!@!@!@!@!@!!!!!!!

Mr.Sensation slumps into his chair as his the person on the other end of the phone continues to chatter frantically.

Mr.Sensation: May god have mercy on our souls.....

The Camera Fades!

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Slamurai throws off his jacket, and grabs the microphone out of the announcer’s hands. He paces around the middle of the ring, still visibly upset at what The Shogun had said to him earlier on.

Slamurai Jack – “Cut that music. CUT IT!”

His music dies down, as he continues to pace.

Slamurai Jack – “He stopped me from spittin’ earlier, but nuh uh! NOT RIGHT NOW! The dormant giant rises up and sizes up his prey! There’s violence in his eyes and smile on his face. Thoughts running wild, a demise is on the way! As I look down on these punks like, “YOU GON’ DIE TODAY!” Right away; nine’ll spray. Learn to surf or die fast. Caught under a barrel wiping out from all the whitecaps. Slam packin’ heat to the point I’m meltin’ icecaps! Shootin’ ish so big and loud, my arsenal is IMAX!”

Slamurai puts down the microphone to take a breather.

Slamurai Jack – “But enough of the flexin’, that ish ain’t connectin’! If just one punch lands, I’m cavin’ someone’s neck in! If they think it’s a game, I’m Ralph, watch me wreck ‘em! Fists named Bob and Vila, this black FINNA’ deck ‘em. Another blank grave. Looks like Slam just killed another no name.”

Slamurai throws his hands up as the crowd boo. He smirks as he hands the microphone back to the announcer and The Shogun’s music hits.