The music stops as the champ moves to the ropes and is handed a mic. He looks out to the audience, laughing as the boos fill the packed stadium. The boos turn into a loud chant of "Septic Tank! Septic Tank! Septic Tank!". Tank's face recoils in disgust, bringing the mic to his mouth.
Tank: OH SHUT THE HELL UP ALREADY!!!! Now last night, as you can see.... The right guy came out on top. The strongest survived, simply rollin' over the two wimps that stood in my way. I told you all. I told you that it was gonna be a cake walk. Now here I am... Proven to be the best Turmoil has to offer, and not some pipsqueak p***y like Jimmy Henry. Not that bondage lovin'... Assless chaps wearin' pansy Kassidy Hayes. No, I did it! And lemme tell you, I did whatever I wanted to those two. I threw them around the ring like a couple of sacks of sh*t, then tossed them to into the trash like they belong. Now as the new champ of Turmoil... I guess it's my place to put some changes into the mix. Make things more comfortable around here. First things first...
Tank reaches into his jacket and takes out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He takes one out, puts it between his lips, and is about to light it when the music of Daryl Bradley hits, the lights flickering. Tank stands there smirking, knowing he's pissed the boss off. Daryl Bradley appears on the X-tron looking madder than all hell.
Bradley: Are you stupid? I mean really? Are you stupid? Oh, just look who I'm talking to. You uncivilized cave man, we are in doors, you can't be puffing away at your cancerous habit in here!
Tank smirks a little bit, approaching the ropes with a slow creeping pace. As he reaches them he lets out a cackling laugh at his boss, pointing and almost giddy seeing the man so scared he's reduced himself to hiding behind a screen. The laughter subsides and Tank brings the microphone to his mouth.
Tank: Bradley... Ya need to know two things right about now. For one, you're talking to the champion, the face of your show... The future of what Turmoil is going to be! Show some respect when you're talkin' to me. Second thing... I did you a favor last night if ya don't remember. Remember how Jimmy wasn't good for your wallet? How Twilight Sparkle wasn't making a big enough impact? You need me boss... So, if you're done b***hin' allow me to enjoy myelf.
Without further hesitation, Tank lights up his smoke breathing in deep before exhaling, smiling as the smoke pours out from his mouth. Bradley is furious, shouting and slamming things around him. Tank just laughs as he continues to smoke away, blowing puffs of smoke towards the front rows, some of the people covering their noses.
Bradley: Cease and desist this instant! You neanderthal! You common thug!
Tank only continues to parade around the ring, smoking away. Just then, Jimmy Henry's music hits. Tank is standing there, his fist tensing up a he moves to a turnbuckle and crushes the lit cigarette out on the metal ring post.
Jimmy grabs a mic and addresses the fans
Jimmy: I think I speak for everyone here when I say "Oh Hell No."
Jimmy: Welcome Turmoil fans, to what they are calling on Riot, the Savage Era. Savage indeed. We are being represented on Rush TV by this chair-swinging oaf, and I'm the one that's bad for business.
Jimmy directs his words at Tank
Jimmy: I'm not marketable, apparently. Yet you, the common criminal, are good for business. That has got to be the biggest pile of crap I've heard since I joined OCW. I had Kassidy Hayes beat, and you sneaked up on me. After spending the best part of an hour bashing me over the head with a steel chair.
Jimmy turns to Daryl Bradley on the X-Tron
Jimmy: Bradley you're a goddamn coward. You should never have put this guy in the main event at Certified Greatness, and you damn well know it. Well, I hope your happy, because this could be the beginning of the end for Turmoil. Bad enough you're letting him run about the arena, bashing anybody who looks at him twice. Now he gets to do it with the Turmoil title round his waist?
Jimmy, uncharacteristically angrily, throws the mic to the floor and heads up the ramp backstage, leaving a smirking Tank in the ring.
As an owner of an 81’ Honda, Axron Bravo could be described as...well in his eyes “cultured” might be the word, but to everyone else he was just a douche. Therefore it was no surprise that pulling into the Turmoil arena parking lot that he attracted a lot of stares, misinterpreted as envy.
Instead of finding a parking spot he pulled up to what he believed was the valet spot and got out.
Talking on the phone was a red headed man talking on a cell phone.
Axton: Hey, bro!
The red headed men turns and looks at him.
Loki: Oi, watz youz want?
Axton: Oh! A leprechaun valet, that's amazing, bro. Why don't you click your leprechaun heels and jump behind my collectors edition beauty. No scratches!
Loki looks around confused. Who the hell is this guy.
Loki: Who mite you be?
Axton: Dude. The name is Bravo, Axton Bravo, baby.
Loki looks as if he might laugh: Be the 'oly they really let anyone into ocw don't they?
Axton: Dude, I don't know what you just said, don't scratch the car, bro.
Axton tosses Loki the keys who catches it with a smile on his face. Loki gets into the car and backs up carefully. Axton turns away and heads to the stairs but then turns around in horror when he hears the loud screech of his car rubbing against another.
Axton runs over as fast as he can on his chicken legs.
Axton: This is an 81 Honda. How dare you!
Loki exits laughing: Sorry, bro.
He laughs while walking away.
The camera fades in to Joe Zhivago in a backstage locker room. He is stretching his leg against the wall, limbering up for his match tonight. There is a knock at the door and in walks Stacy Clark, microphone at the ready. It appears that after her meeting with Loki the previous week she's decided to go without the wig.
Stacy clears her throat to get Joe's attention: Ahem!
Joe, apparently deep in thought, is startled, he turns to Stacy: Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't hear ye’ come in.
He looks at Stacy for a moment and his eyes wander to her shaved head.
Joe grins at Stacy: Wow, lovin’ the new look! Very bold - when did you get that done?
Stacy looks confused: Where have you been? Nathan Carter attacked me and shaved my head in the middle of the ring, two weeks ago on Riot… but I'm not here to talk about that disgusting loser…
Joe looks worried and begins to frown: Well, if you don't want to talk about, I'm not going to push the matter, I'm just glad you didn't catch any filthy viruses from him - he's bound to have some…
Joe’s frown turns into a big smile: Just as long as you know, you're still the bonniest lass to grace these halls!
Stacy smiles back at Joe - her cheeks start to redden, but she presses on with the interview: Where have you been, Joe? You seemed to just disappear after you were defeated by Seth Morrison.
Joe looks embarrassed, but quickly perks up: I had to get out of the city for a while, it's hard to think in a busy place like New York… So I went on a hunting trip - even caught some pheasant. You should come over sometime, I'm a pretty good cook!
Stacy considers Joe's offer: Well, I do like a man who can cook…
She pauses for a moment:Anyway, you have your second match tonight and you're up against Jackson Montgomery - what are your thoughts going into this match?
Joe starts to frown again: I'm up against another tough opponent, that's for sure: Jackson Montgomery is like a machine and I'll have to put everything I have into this match tonight. But I'm looking forward to it. Hopefully “The Prime Cut” has what it takes!
As per usual Joe flexes his biceps for Stacy. When he sees her usual unimpressed reaction to this, he lets out a deep hearty laugh - Stacy tries to remain serious, but can't help but smile at his perseverance. The camera fades out with the two of them laughing together...
Zeb Melrose vs Axton Bravo
The camera cuts to the locker room, focusing on Dylan Graves and Bill Ding who are sitting at the catering table, sampling cheesecakes. Graves begins to speak and Bill continues to indulge.
Dylan: B-17, Jackson, you two put on one heck of a good show and you beat us clean at Certified Greatness. But, I'm telling you right now, you didn't get the best of Dylan Graves or my friend Bill here. Bill has early onset arthritis and my yeast has been flaring up! Do either of you have any clue how difficult it is to wrestle with an itchy-burny groin? No? I didn’t think so!
Listen, you’re both top-notch competitors and I know neither of you can back down from a challenge, so I say lets do it again. If you're the really the better men, the better team, you won't take pride in a tarnished victory like that!
Earlier this week, B-17 said you won’t fight us again, ever...because of Bill’s size. Let me tell you how that translates to the rest of the world…fear and bullying. That’s right, why you gotta make fun of a man's weight like that? So, Mr. My Body is a Temple…it’s time to put on your big boy pants and face your fears. We don’t see Jackson complaining, dodging us in the locker room…and he knows we pushed him to the limit. He appreciates that because Jackson isn’t afraid of a challenge. Tell 'em about it Bill!"
Bill Ding looks to the camera. He has cheesecake all over his face, including stuffed in his mouth. The camera focuses on him, he belches a bit and begins to speak.
Bill Ding: When Bill Ding's in the Building…folks have a tendency to be striken with with a little bit of fear, baby. It's only natural…so B-17, I don’t blame ya baby! I’m one of those once-in-a-generation guys….I have the look, the moves, the speed, agility, skill, charisma. ..I got it all! It’s easy to get intimidated by the guy who built this city! Since we know you’re terrified, I’ll address Jackson directly.
Jackson, talk some sense into your scared little friend and teach him to be a man. Meet us in the ring again, elimination rules, and we’ll turn that fear into respect. Now, can you Ding that?
The camera fades out as Bill and Dylan both reach down to sample another dessert.
The Television Champion of Turmoil raises his hands, and the chants mocking the freshly retired veteran had dampened for the most part. There was now cheering and clapping from the audience, with a bit of the earlier chant sprinkled in. Madison took a few steps back until she was behind Dennis. She then unstrapped the belt and held it as if it were a newborn child.
Dennis walked to the ropes that faced the commentators and signaled for a mic. He thanked the bell keeper after he was handed one. Once he returned to Madison’s side in the center of the ring, his smile had to turned to a look of disappointment.
Dennis: For those that thought and hoped I could make something of myself after signing on with OCW, this title is for you.
The fans started to cheer, and Dennis did his best to settle them down.
Dennis: For those that didn't think I would succeed and to those that feel I don't deserve to be Turmoil’s Television Champion, this is also for you. Like, dislike, or indifferent. I'm ‘your’ Champion, and I'll do my best day in and day out to perform for you.
Dennis: Madison and I had every intention of coming out here tonight and giving management a piece our collective mind, but recent events have given us cause to pause. Management has enough on their plate. So we’ll leave it at that.
Dennis looked over his shoulder at his companion, whose eyes never left the title. She was fixated on how she looked in the reflection. He started to walk around the ring in a slow pace.
Dennis: Sunday night should have been the best night of my life. But it wasn't until after I got behind the curtain and watched the rest of the show that I was given a sobering reminder of how temporary everything is. Friendships, rivalries, streaks, careers and title reigns...all of it is temporary.
Dennis: Four men won titles at Certified Greatness. Three men lost titles that night, and one man lost his career.
This prompted fans to start cheering again, and the TV Champion became visibly upset as he pointed to the stitching of his shirt.
Dennis: My life and Seth Morrison’s will always be connected. Our names are always going to be mentioned together as OCW moves on without him, and eventually me. My first title in this company came at the expense of someone’s career. Someone's livelihood. That doesn't exactly sit well with me.
The fans started to boo.
Dennis: I’m aware he wasn't the most pleasant of people one could come across. Regardless of what he did to me, attacking me unprovoked. Bad mouthing rookies and treating women terribly, he was still a performer. Someone who came out here and showed off his craft for all of you.
Dennis looks down at his shoes for a moment before looking back into the camera.
Dennis: And we can't even celebrate this man’s career. No one is talking about this man. Thinking about what he’ll do next in life. The loss of a man’s career has been overshadowed by what took place in the closing moments of Sunday night’s event.
Dennis: This isn't the kind of wrestling I grew up on. Ladders, chairs, tables. These were things that were forced on me. I was trained to ‘wrestle’. Tonight, I'm squaring off with Jimmy Henry, a man who has risen to stardom overnight and I couldn't be happier with the opportunity. We’re both a bit banged up, chair shots will do that.
Dennis: I want to wrestle the best, and become the best. I'm an entertainer and a purest for this sport at heart. I don't want to become jaded like my last opponent. But if attacking staff, ending careers, injuring others, and disrespecting our peers is what it takes to make it in OCW...then maybe I don’t belong. I'm hopeful what took place on Sunday night isn't going to be the norm.
Madison’s eyes rose from the belt and locked on Dennis as he exited the ring without her. She quickly followed after him. There were many looks of confusion and frustration in the front row. The duo walked up the ramp to a mixture of cheers and jeers.
Intern: Mr Abbott, can I conduct an interview for the viewers watching back home?
Seb: Where's Stacy?
Intern: She requested not to interview you for the next few weeks.
Seb: Disappointing. Go ahead ask away.
The intern nervously shuffled his notes before composing himself.
Intern: Tonight you face "Dangerous" Dylan Graves, how will you approach this match?
Seb: Well they say he's "dangerous" well I guess he hasn't been on the end of one of my post match beatings. So we'll see how dangerous he really is later.
Intern: Well I really only had that one question, ah good luck tonight.
Seb looked at the intern and shook his head.
Seb: You're no Stacy, hopefully you'll have more following the match. If I choose to talk to you.
Seb walked off and left the Intern standing there stunned at the closing remark.
Loki vs Bray S. Spur
In the back, a smirking Tank can be found at the catering table, pushing aside grips and other technical personal. He was filling a plate with food, a lot of meat. One of the techs move to try and speak with the new champion, only for Tank to growl at him, turning quickly with a stare that dared the other man to speak up. The big man moves over to an empty table and takes a seat, munching away at his food like some beast when who should walk in but the kilted underdog himself Jimmy Henry. The champ grins as he sees his new prey, moving out of his chair to approach Jimmy.
Tank: He F**kwit! Yea you dress wearin' p***y I'm talkin' to ya!
Jimmy turns as Tank moves in close, resting his hand on the smaller man's shoulder.
Tank: Look, all things considered... I wouldn't feel too bad about the one gettin' pinned. I mean it's not like you let down all your fans...... I mean it's not like you almost accopmlished your dream, only to have it stolen from you by the bigger, more superior man. I mean it's not like you're embarssing your family, puttin' on that skirt, pranicn' around for those a**holes out there, only to get our ass beat. It's not like...
Jimmy's face is twisted in an angry scowl, his fists balled up tightly. The underdog snaps with his arm, slapping Tank's hand off his shoulder, grabbing Tank by the collar of his jacket. The scott raises his hand and cocks it back, only for Tank to give him a sickening grin. The champ raised his finger to his chin and pointed.
Tank: Go ahead big man... Throw the first punch. Give me a reason to give you a beatin'. Don't worry there JIm. Parta the deal with Bradley, no more brawls in the back heheh.... Unless I'm provoked. Can you imagine what I could do to you on concrete compared to what I did in the soft cushion of the ring?
Jimmy gives it a second thought and lowers his hand.
Jimmy: Soft cushion of the ring? Didn't notice it. I did notice the "soft cushion" of the solid steel chair you kept hitting me with. The only soft cushion in that match was the 3 inch thick cushion of fat round your skull, you big jerk. You didn't belong in that main event, and you know it. Hell, you don't even belong in a wrestling ring. You should be kept away from weapons, behind bars, in a cage or a cell.
Tank slowly backs away with his smirk still evident. He'd let out a chuckle, only to snatch Jimmy up by his collar. The man who was taken by the collar stood defiantly as he'd grab Tank's wrist, standing his ground. The Bully shoved Jimmy back with a light shove as he'd sink back towards the catering service.
Tank: Oh you liked those shots huh? I'm glad you're not too beat up over it. Ya know after the about the fourth one, you stopped whining like a b***h. I wonder if your family was frantic? I wonder if I made your mother cry...
Jimmy would clench his fist, his mind racing with anger. Tank stood there laughing, still egging Jimmy into a brawl. With one deep breath the scot took a step back. He'd look Tank in the eye and say with venom in his tone.
Jimmy: The only reason you got a chance to fight in that match, is because our robotic contraption of an executive, Daryl Bradley is a coward. He might be scared of you, but I'm not. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a match to get ready for. I'm up against Dennis Black, a guy that knows wrestling requires skill, and not just swinging weapons about like some caveman with roid rage.
With that Tank only laughed and sat back down to his meal, Jimmy headed off to prepare for his opponent, Dennis Black.
The text from Jackson Montgomery had read “cards, locker room, 7:00.” Of course it had seemed odd. Jackson wasn't much for texting, especially after CG. And annoyingly he continued to use military time. Therefore when B-17 opened the door to the locker room he carried with him a baseball bat. Unsurprisingly there sat a man wearing a suit and a disturbing white skull mask. The constant anger that always bubbled near the surface was threatening to boil over, but he suspected a trap.
???: Come. Sit.
The voice was distorted, just as last time, although B-17 couldn't be sure if it was the same man:
B-17:I'm here to talk.
B-17: Is it you?
B-17 approached slowly, looking this way and that. No one else was in the room with them.
???: Do you mean, am I the boss?......No. Consider me the direct voice to the boss...I was with him when we destroyed your car.
B-17 lurches forward and raises the bat: I should bash your face in!
The masked figure raises his hand and hold up a phone, B-17 pauses when he see the picture of OCW rising star Sophia just outside of her house.
???: Look familiar?
B-17 takes the bat and points it directly at the masked man’s chest:
B-17: You're disgusting. I’ve never even talked with Sophia. What the hell is wrong with you people!
???: Well that is the point BB17.
B-17 bristles in anger:
???: Yes it must be horrible knowing that we watch and listen and know all about you. But you know so little of us! Yet, this is all your doing.
First we backed off, didn't even think about you but then a week later you're sprouting the “woah is me and I'm gonna destroy them,” bullshit. So we delivered another message. And after that your big C4 friends stepped in and made you...untouchable. So we left it alone figured you would let it pass, but no! You just had to keep digging…Because you're a stupid son of a bitch.
B-17 takes the bat and shoves it into the other man's throat.
B-17:Where is she?
???: Look at the phone again, Bingo Bomber.
B-17 look at the phone again except this time it's a picture of Loki McGregor.
???: Keep watching.
The man swipes his pointer finger with a long scar running down it over the screen. A picture of Stacy Clark. Picture of Scott Lawrence. Pictures of the OCW roster all taken in a way to suggest none of them knew they were being watched.
???: You see. I'm only able to talk to you because your friends know you're not in danger, honestly if they thought you were in trouble, boom, right through the door they would come. And, sadly we can't really get to Jackson anymore, per your request. But…what about everyone else?
B-17 lowers the bat and looks at the man across from him in horror.
???: You might be protected. Jackson might, but Loki could end up with broken kneecaps, Stacy might find hair to be the least of her worries, Scott might have an unfortunate accident. Sophia, that pretty little thing, might get a late...night...visit.
Mechanical laughter sends shivers down B-17’s spine.
B-17:....what do you want?
???: It's simple, know your part. That's it. Follow the instructions, do as you're told. Stop making waves. Let the title go, it's not yours to have. And, call off the hounds, stop with this fruitless search. B-17, just let it go.
B-17: And if I don't?
???:...I hurt someone….
B-17 grips the bat tight, he can sense a wicked smile behind the mask. It disgusts him to think of it. But then he surprises the masked man and slowly smiles.
B-17: No...you won't be you hurting someone.
With that B-17 raises the bat before the other man can respond and uses the handle side to smash into his face. The sharp crack precedes the shout of pain and instant fall to the ground.
B-17 walks to the door and opens it: Come get him guys.
Four men wearing dark pants and white shirts come walking and pick up the crumpled opponent.
As they drag him out, B-17 stops them: Don't take the mask off, it's always easier to hurt someone if you don't know who they are. Just hang out around here, after my match bring him down to the ring.
He looks down at the man: Who’s the stupid son of a bitch now?
The scene fades in on the X-tron of Bradley's office, the muffled voices of Tank and Bradley could be heard as the cameras move into the room slowly in order to catch the conversation. As the cameras move in Tank is the first one clearly heard.
Tank: You want me to stop smokin' bogeys.... And start smokin' this... What the f**k is it called?
Bradley: Language! You may be champion, but those fines still come out of your pay!
Tank: Oh f**k off...
Bradley grumbles and looks down with a sigh, only to further explain what it is he wanted.
Bradley: It's called vaping, but you've probably never heard of it... It's all the rage with the kids. If you start, it would make you seem more cool with the younger crowd, plus it'll extend your career. That cancerous habit of yours is gonna make your title run short and a dead champion is bad for the income.
Tank sits there staring at Bradley, blinking a little bit. Well who knew the boss had a heart? Granted he was mostly about trying to see how he can milk money out of Tank's habit, but I guess the boss knew a cash cow when he saw one.
Tank: So lemme get this straight... It's a long metal pole filled with fluid that you want me to suck? Sorry Bradley, you haven't rubbed off on me yet buddy, but keep fantasizing.
Bradley goes red in the face, not only out of anger, but of embarrassment.
Bradley: Did you just... make a fellatio reference on TV? What is wrong with you?!? And are you trying to say I'm gay? I am trying to help you here! Look... It comes in a variety of flavours as well, butterscotch, chocolate, vanilla... And you can smoke it inside without anyone saying anything at all! Think of it as less of a life style change but...
Bradley pauses, thinking of a way to sell it to him.
Bradley: A life hack.
Tank almost recoils at Bradley's words thinking for a bit. He goes into his pack of cigarettes and takes out something that looks like a cigarette, only this seemed a bit more hand made. Without thinking further Tank lights up and takes a long drag, exhaling slowly, only to cough.
Tank: Ah yea... that's the good stuff.
Bradley: Is that.... what I think it is?!?
Tank: What? It's healthier for you! Plus it helps with my work outs! Makes me feel more in touch with my body, ya got a problem with that?
Bradley: You cannot smoke the marjiunanas on live TV! Put it out this instant!
Tank: What? Zack Galfinf**kface did it on the Bill Mahr show.
Bradley: Oh the anti drug people are going to have us shut down... Wait... It's medicinal, like Versus, yes... It's medicinal...
Bradley pinches his nose before sliding Tank an American Express card.
Bradley: Look, go to the bar across the road, someone will come get you after the show, just... Try to stay out of trouble.
Tank grabs the card and nods to Bradley. He takes a few more drags of his joint before putting it out on Bradley's desk before standing up and heading out.
Bradley: That's Mahogany!
Tank: You better have a limo pick me up. And a fancy hotel room waiting for me at the next venue.
Bradley grumbles a bit but nods as he waves Tank off. Tank heads out of the office and to the bar, grinning as he carries his championship belt out of the arena.
There were looks of annoyance as Madison entered the men’s locker room. She looked around until she found Dennis lacing up his boots for the main event. She ignored the looks she was getting and sat beside him, still clutching on to the title. He looked up and gave her a brief nod.
Dennis: I told you I was going to meet you in catering before the match. I was on my way out. Caught me at a bad time.
Madison: going somewhere?
With one of his pre match shirts in hand, Dennis stood up and started to pull it over his head.
Dennis: Going to go find Jimmy. Ask if he's alright, and to wish him luck in our match.
Madison rolled her eyes and stood as well, facing him.
Madison: Why, exactly? I don't recall him wishing you luck against Seth. Hell...I don't recall anyone wishing you luck. If he's got any injuries, you need to exploit them just as anyone would exploit yours.
Dennis: Regardless, as a Champion, I'm a reflection of the Turmoil locker room. It's the right thing to do.
Madison reaches out for his arm to stop him from walking away from their conversation.
Madison: Look, I didn't want you to hear it like this.
Dennis: Hear what?
Madison: Well...I overheard him speaking with a few of the guys. Ding and Dylan. He called you a paper champion. Said all three of them could beat you with their eyes closed. They agreed. It bothered me, but you needed to hear it from me. Rather than confront him or even mention it, I'd focus that energy into your next few matches. This is a big time for us. Jimmy Henry tonight, and our debut on Riot against the Turmoil Champion. You're starting to get the recognition I've wanted for you since we met, don't wilt on me now.
Madison: I get it. You want to be the kind of guy that Seth refused to be, someone that unites our locker room. But guys like Jimmy and Dylan only care for themselves and don't take you seriously. Win or lose, prove to these people you are not to be looked over. A lesson Seth Morrison now has etched in his memory, from his trailer home.
Dennis placed his hand over the held title for a few seconds and started for the exit.
Dennis: He won’t have an easy time with me, loved by all or not. Oh and Madisson? I'd prefer if you weren't disrespectful of Seth again. Thanks.
Madison grinned down at the title once he left the room.
Jimmy Henry vs. Dennis Black