Ed circled around the carnage he caused, smelling blood in the water like a shark on the hunt. With a running start, he kicked Dennis hard enough in the ribs to knock him against the barricade. Some fans cheered while others were disgusted. It wasn't until Madison yelled that Ed had done enough that the beating stopped.
Ed kneels at Dennis’s side and whispered something before wiping Dennis’s face with his hand. He then walked over to Madison, who was clutching on to the title for dear life. Before she could call the biker another obscenity, Ed wiped Dennis’s blood over all her face and told her to shut up and get in the ring. She stood there, horrified, before complying.
He demanded a mic from one of the refs. Ed yelled at the security running down to ringside while tackling Madison closer to him by her hair.
Ed: Stop right there or I swear to god, or whatever sky genie you bastards waste money and time on...i’ll power bomb the hell out of this broad.
The security guards stopped at the bottom of the ramp. They clearly weren't prepared for an attack from a fan.
Ed: So hard I'll break this goddamn ring, understand? Good. Now then..
The biker looked to Madison, who refused to look at him by keeping her eyes closed.
Ed: Did you think I was just going to let you get away with this? You rob me to pay for wrestling school? Are you f*****g kidding me?
Parents covered the ears of their children in the audience.
Ed: Life is full of disappointment, ain't it? You drop me, the club, the business. All of us. To train...just to meet some guy you had a thing for. By the time you actually get signed, he's a fat ass. That's rich!
Ed: And then you replace him with another. I mourned you, Madison. I had to. Because I know if I ever...ever saw you again, bad things were going to happen. And then I see you on television...with him?!
Ed points to Dennis, who was crawling to the ring at a snail’s pace. This pissed Ed off even more. He slams the mic down and lifts Madison above his head, contemplating a press slam. She squirmed and screamed after dropping the title.
The sound of Bradley’s voice boomed through the arena. Tank stands behind him, unimpressed by Ed’s stature. The bully smirks to the crowd, as he takes a few steps forward, Bradley placing a hand in front of Tank.
Bradley: Enough! What is the meaning of this?
Ed sets Madison down on her feet, losing interest in her for the time being. She squirms out of the ring and rushes to Dennis.
Ed: The hell are you?
Bradley: I run this place.
Ed: Then you're just the man I'm looking for.
Bradley: We have nothing to discuss. You're a fan. A thug. One that attacked talent. You're going straight to jail, sir.
Several police officers also arrived on stage, standing behind Bradley.
Ed: I've got friends in the New York prison system. I'll do the time after breaking her back. Or, there's another option.
Bradley: I'm all ears. For now.
Ed: The last thing you want is Madison to be caught up in a case during your biggest time of the year. Even if I go to Jail, my club ‘will’ sue this broad. Hell...her bloody friend over there may be involved.
Ed: Imagine your fraudulent Champion and his whore side kick, sent to jail for stealing. Imagine the negative publicity. You might even lose your job over this.
Tank glared at Ed as Bradley started to look less confident.
Bradley: I'll have you know, he is anything but Fraudulent!
Ed looked around the arena and shook his head.
Ed: Hell, if my only competition was old men, fat asses, jokers with awful facial hair, and a guy that's way too dark to be wearing bright ass green, I'd be champ too! It's like being at the top of your class, if your entire class had Down syndrome!
Bradley: Jesus...the mouth on this one. What are our options here?
Ed: All I want is a chance to make her life miserable. I could power bomb all day, but she wouldn't care. This broad is driven by two things...Fame in your business, and money. There's only one way to hurt her.
Bradley: Elaborate.
Ed walked over to the title and lifted it above his head. There were mixed reactions from the crowd. Dennis was using Madison’s weight for support as the two had finally made it to the bottom of the ramp. They turned to face Ed. She merely shook her head at him, mouthing ‘never’.
Bradley: You're getting ahead of yourself. Tell you what. You seem like an intelligent fellow. Tank shook his head in disagreement. The bully bring his own mic to his mouth.
Tank: If this f**kin' clown thinks he can come into my ring!
Bradley: Tank…
Bradley: Anyway, let's have ourselves a business agreement. You drop this...talk of court and lawyers in exchange for an opportunity to get a contract.
Ed: A contract? Hell yea.
Now at the top of the stage, Madison could be heard yelling at Tank and Bradley.
Madison: You can't be serious!
Tank has had enough of this. He snatches the mic from Bradley and shoves the man aside.
Tank: I have had enough of this bulls**t!!! You let some f**khead, ain't even paid his dues, and you give him a shot in the big leagues? You f**kin' p**sy Bradley. What you should be doing is sending me down there to put my boot in his ass!!
Bradley snatches the mic back and puts his finger up to Tank, daring him to attack. Tank scowls as Bradley begins to speak.
Bradley: You shut your mouth when I speak to you monkey! This is my decision and you will respect my word! Now... back to you...
Bradley: Tonight, you, my good man, have an opportunity. Against a mystery opponent.
The fans cheered as the show cut to commercial break.
Madison was struggling to hold Dennis up.
Madison: You promised to protect us.
Bradley: I ‘am’, my dear. I've kept you out of prison. You should have been more forthcoming with your...predicament.
Tank is beside himself, shaking again in anger as he paces back and forth up on stage. The bully, is a rabid dog chomping at the bit to be let off his leash.
Tank: You should have just let me f**k him up....
Bradley: Keep quiet....
The GM looks to the two with a wicked smirk.
Bradley: Now do yourself a favor and find an opponent for that brute. Simply make sure the man you pick wins. Problem solved.
Bradley handed her a handkerchief from his pocket. A stretcher was brought on stage by security and paramedics. Madison snatched the handkerchief and glared as Tank and Bradley exited behind the curtain.
Seb stood in the foyer of Terminal 5 flicking through his phone. A screen popped up with the football scores from Australia, his team had won by eighty points.
Seb: Well a round one win isn't too bad, hopefully those bastards can keep it up the rest of the season. won't hold my breath though, it's a garbage sport how did I ever get mystified by it I'll never know.
Looking up he saw Stacy Clark hovering nearby.
Seb: Spit it out woman! I have a match to get ready for.
Stacy: Last week you came down to the ring and confronted the TV champion, and that was after placing hands on his valet.
Also you took his title and threw it on top of the tron, look at the footage of the poor stage hand who had to get it down.
Stacy held up her Ipad with the said footage already playing, it showed the young man climbing a ladder, getting atop the Xtron grabbing the title before he fell.
Seb: Bloody strewth, wouldn't want to be him hey?
Stacy looked sideways at Seb who cleared his throat.
Seb: I mean is he ok?
Stacy: He fractured a collarbone and broke his leg, he's far from ok.
Seb: Did I force him up the ladder? No. It's not my fault if that kid is clumsy. Look at him he cheered when he grabbed the title then Splatt. See right there.
He pointed at the Ipad as the hand let out a cheer before falling.
Stacy: Oookay. So last week you had demands what are they?
Seb: I want a match at Lution! I also want a shot at the TV title!
Seb grabbed Stacy's mic and brought it to his lips.
Seb: Mr Bradley, do what it is you do and make this happen. Or, Or I can just escalate this further. I'm sure by now you've seen what I did to the title last week.
Stacy: I think Dennis Black already has a match at Wrestlution. So unless you can slither your way in, it won't happen.
Seb: I said I want a match at Lution, don't twist my words woman.
Seb resumed looking at his phone indicating the interview was over.
ank and Bradley are sitting in Bradley's office looking over pictures of different people. Tank shrugs at a few, simple throws a few of the pictures right into the garbage, and keeps a few on the desk.
Bradley: You indecisive oaf, would you just pick already!!!
Tank: You watch your f**kin' mouth Bradley. I may be working on your terms, but you ain't talking to me like I'm one of your production truck a**holes...
Bradley: You are what I say you are! This is my Regime!! You will do as you are ordered too!!
Tank thinks a bit and looks over the pictures in front of him. He shakes his head a bit and shoves the remaining few off the table.
Tank: No... This one has to be a lot more.... Fun....
Tank lets out a soft chuckle, rearing back in his seat.
Tank: I'll do this one my way Bradley, I'll let you know when I've found potential.
Bradley grumbles to himself, looking as if he is about to scream his head off! But the GM takes a sigh, the kind ruler he was, he gave Tank a curt nod.
Bradley: Do what you will... Just don't go overboard.... The medical bills from Jimmy's concussion are still hurting our profits!!
Tank smirks as stands up heading out of Bradley's office. As he is about to leave he reaches into his jacket and takes out a vaporizer. The large man takes in a long drag and as he leaves, a cloud of smoke hangs at the doorway...
Blain vs Wanda vs Webb
Seb came out of the locker room and ran into Stacy Clark for the second time today.
Stacy: Hello again, tonight you face Bray S. Spur. How do you think it will go?
Seb: Bray looks the goods, he can definitely wrestle I'll give him that but I'm going to throw everything I have at him tonight.
However he isn't my focus, by facing him I'm leaving myself open to attack from Dyldo T Baggins and Dingbat for my past transgressions towards them.
Seb: Then there is Dennis Black, I'm sure he is still a little pissed off with me after last week.
Seb twirled his moustache wistfully.
Stacy: Well good luck in your match tonight. You're going to need it.
Seb: I don't need luck, it's time for the #Seb-lution to begin.
Seb brushed past Stacy and started making his way to the ring.
Stacy: #Seb-Lution? We'll see.
he scene opens up to Jackson Montgomery in the furthest corner of the arena, pacing back and forth. Even though he stumbles a bit (we all know why), he keeps his focus and continues his straight line from one side of the hallway to the other. While this is happening, Jim Black walks up on JackMo in hopes to get an interview. As Jim gets closer, Jackson sees him out of the corner of his eye, which makes him change his course and head straight for Jim. Startled, Jim stops in his tracks and then begins to shuffle back and forth until Jackson is right on top of him.
Jackson Montgomery: I suppose you want a word from me about what happened last week?
Before Jim can answer, Jackson snatches the mic from his hand and pushes Jim away out of camera view. Jackson brings the mic to his mouth as he looks directly into the camera.
Jackson Montgomery: Last week, everyone caught a glimpse of the REAL Jackson Montgomery. You people thought you had me pegged and the drunk and stupid friend of B-17. You thought I was just going to ride B-17’s coat tails to the top. Well, near the top because we all know B-17 would have taken the opportunity to become champion and would have left be me behind like a stray dog.
Jackson shifts his weight to his other foot, adjusting the mic as well. He strokes his beard and begins to speak again.
Jackson Montgomery: Well just the opposite happened. I took full advantage and pinned not one, but TWO legends and left B-17 stranded before he could do the same to me. I took the first step in a series of events that will, later tonight, see me become the Turmoil Heavyweight Champion. Last week when Austin Lee came into that locker room, it was an awakening for me. B-17 didn’t need me around around anymore. He was no longer “looking out” for me. He had a new friend. A new buddy to call on when he got in trouble. If he wants to grow a ri-cock-ulous mustache and start riding a hoverboard with Lee and Harrison, so be it. He doesn’t need me? I don’t need him!
Jackson Montgomery: I proved that last week. It’s over and done. I’m in the title match tonight, not you! Jackson points at the camera, but aiming it at B-17. Before I talk more about that, I want to address another person who thinks he’s hot sh*t. $Irving$.
The crowd pops a bit when hearing the name.
Jackson Montgomery: I don’t know what hole you crawled out of, but I suggest you go back there. Who do you think you are coming onto MY show and disrespecting me and Davie? Davie has done more for this country than you do for your daily hygiene. You’ve got a lot of nerve talking to me like about Davie’s family. They’ve gone through hell and you make jokes? You better not cross me again because next time we’re standing eye to eye and toe to toe, the ending might just be different.
Jackson lowers the mic and strokes his beard again. After about the third time, Jackson looks into the camera, reaches up and takes his sunglasses off, throwing them off camera. You can hear them hit something, then Jim saying “Ow! My face!”. Jackson glares in Jim’s direction before continuing.
Jackson Montgomery: All that was said to get to this point. Jimmy Henry. OCW’s perpetual underdog. When are you going to get it? You’ll never win that championship. How did you get on the list of Turmoil champions? The title was GIVEN to you out of pity. You know what’s been given to me? NOTHING! I’ve worked my ass off in everything I’ve done and now, you, those idiot fans, and all of OCW will see that later tonight. You know what you’re “dash” is going to represent when it’s posted on your tombstone between your birthdate and death date? It represents your life. The life of the under achiever. “Here lies Jimmy Henry. He reached the mountain top but was struck down by the bigger, badder, man.”
Jackson Montgomery: Jimmy. Take a good look at what you’re seeing right now because at the end of the night, you’ll see this same face, but I’ll be holding the OCW Heavyweight Championship! Get ready to Embrace the Suck!
Jackson lowers the mic before dropping it and walks out of frame. The camera turns to Jim Black who is checking his eye after Jackson’s glasses hit him. The scene fades to black.
Bray S. Spur vs. Seb Abbott
The cameras take us backstage where Stacy Clark can be seen with her microphone awaiting someone’s arrival. The camera pans down the hallway to show the Webb sisters making their way around the corner in Stacy’s direction. They appear to be arguing and bantering in the typical fashion that siblings often do. Stacy quickly flags them down and interrupts them to get the inside scoop.
Stacy Clark: Ladies! Hi. Just a quick word. Please, tell me and your OCW fans your thoughts so far on your current division and the “Queen of Turmoil” tournament. Surely there must be some discord among you two now that only one of you is moving on to the next round.
Jayde: Well Stacy, personally this tournament not only decides who will be the “Queen of Turmoil” as it is so aptly named, but also determines which one of us is the stronger sister. I put away not one, but TWO wannabe princesses and now I absolutely can’t wait to get my hands on Madison.
Jayde’s sister Jayden looks back at her with disdain: Yeaaa ok whatever. You had it easy. Did you SEE who I was up against?? That new chick Bellatrix and that behemoth excuse of a woman PAIN. Why is she even wrestling in our division?? She might as well wrestle the MEN!!
Stacy cocks her head to the side to take in that thought, and nods in agreement.
Stacy Clark: Speaking of the men, what do you think about the male counterparts who claim they don’t bother to watch the women’s matches? For example, one fan on social media refers to your division as trannies?
Jayde chuckles, taking a moment to formulate her response to such an absurd remark.
Jayde: Trannies? Really? This is 2016. Both men and women are crossing the gender and sex stereotypes every day. I’m not going to get all “GO FEMINISM! BURN YOUR BRAS” here because that’s not what this is about. It’s just as Ms. Starks stated, that we are bringing something ‘new and fresh’ to the table. If you like it, great. If not, so what. We are here to put on a show and be the baddest bitches on Turmoil. Besides, they want to talk about women looking like men…. Some of THEM look quite questionable themselves!!
The look of bewilderment can be seen on Stacy’s face as her uneasy body language shows how awkward she felt hearing that response.
Stacy Clark: Uh… Ok!.. Bold statements made by our very own Jayden Webb.
Jayde: I’m Jayde. THAT’S Jayden. She exclaims as she points to her sister.
Jayde continues: Can’t you tell us apart? I have blond hair with blue, while JAYDEN has blue hair with blond! I would think a girl with such lovely hair as yourself would be able to tell the difference…………… oh wait. Haha…. BZZZZZZZZZ.
The Webbs walk away, continuing down the hall, leaving Stacy visibly embarrassed and clutching the hat on her head.
The replay played over and over, Bray rolling up Seb for the 1,2,3.
Stacy smiled as Seb passed her, the Brit stopped dead in his tracks and turned to see Stacy grinning at him.
Seb: Wipe that s*t eating grin off your face woman!
Stacy: #Seb-lution hit a bit of a bump tonight, aaaaand it happened about here.
She pointed to the monitor replaying yet again the roll up, Stacy got pushed aside as Seb put his boot through it in a shower of sparks and shattered glass.
Seb: That's what I think of that.
Looking into the camera, Seb grabbed the mic and brought it to his mouth.
Seb: I will overcome this. You will see. This was but a hiccup on my road to Seb-Lution.
He tossed the mic into the wreckage of the semi smoldering TV before limping off.
B-17 stared dejectedly into his cup of whisky as he swirled it around. Entranced by the motions he didn’t notice the bartender had leaned onto the bar and was watching him until she spoke.
Bartender: You won’t find any promises at the bottom of the glass.
B-17 looked up at her with raised eyebrows. She was cute. Shoulder length black hair. Her blue eyes perhaps too far apart and her features sharp, yet she was smiling at him. It was the first smile he had seen in close to a week:Sure it does. I promise to get another one. With that he lifted his drink and finished it in one swallow.
She poured him another drink: Women?
B-17 brings the drink up to his lips: No.
Bartender: Oh, well I guess it must be OCW?
B-17 put the drink down and looks at his questioner bemused: You know who I am?
Bartender: Of course I do, “B-17.” She smiles at him in mocking fashion: So “B-17” why did you walk through those doors with Mr. Marvelous instead of Jackson? She leans down on the bar again. He can’t help but notice her shirt hung loosely from her neck.
B-17 laughs uncomfortably and runs his hand through his hair: So...who are you again?
She smiles wide: That’s not the game we are playing.
B-17: What game are we playing?
She pulls up the bottle of whiskey again: No answers, no drink.
B-17 lets out a bark like laugh: Maybe I’m drinking because I’m with Austin instead of Jack?
The mysterious bartender put the bottle away. And stares at him with a look that plainly reads “not good enough.”
B-17: Fair enough. B-17 looks over towards the pool table where Austin is hustling a pair of Ivy League looking tools. Seeing that he won’t soon be saved leaves him with limited options: Equal trade. Your name, and then I answer.
She pulls the bottle back up: Sounds like we are getting closer. I’m Ashley Blaine.
B-17: That...that sounds familiar.
Ashley: It is, but we are focused on you right now. So, where is Jackson and better question, why are you not at Turmoil tonight?
B-17 finishes off his drink, taps the glass on the counter and motions for a refill. She obliges but only a small amount: Jackson...he made it clear, doesn’t want me around anymore. As a matter of fact, I tried calling, try and clear stuff up, and he said, mind you drunkenly “I hate you. I hate who you are, I hate what you stand for. I hate what you have been and what you will be.”
Ashley: He said that?
B-17: Well, between the profanity. B-17 raises his glass in toast and finishes the little amount of whiskey provided. She pours a little more this time.
Ashley: And Turmoil?
B-17: Wasn’t booked.
Ashley: Never stopped you before.
B-17: You strike me as someone who..knows a fair amount about Turmoil. In that case you then know Jackson is fighting for the title tonight. Something I helped him get to. Dragged him out of bars, fought for him. Kept management off his ass. Even got Hobbs to buy him the best help possible...And, he hates me for that...Why should I be there?
Ashley smiles grimly and begins to pour him the whiskey he asked for but she stops abruptly: Is this what you really want?
B-17 looks directly into her eyes. Pretty eyes, bright blue, thoughtful...
B-17: No...no...I guess not.
Lee looks over at a dingy clock and shouts out: #B it's time!
Lee makes his way over to B-17 showing him a message on his phone from Kassie Jacobs. Before Lee takes off running to the parking lot leaving a lot of confused people, especially the people whose money he had just taken. B-17 looks at Ashley and gives a wink: What time you off?
Ashley: 9.
B-17: See you then. With that he runs after Lee.
Big Ed vs Dongshanks
Backstage, Madison kicked over the monitor in the women's locker room, screaming as loud as she could. The other women in the locker room slowly started to clear out, as it was obvious she needed some time alone.
Tank moves through the arena hallways looking for something, or someone. As Tank walks he passes by a few camera men on break. He snatches one up by the neck and presses the young man up against a wall.
Tank: Ya seen that f**kin' whipping boy, Bray today?
The cameraman in Tank's clutches shudders a bit in fear, shaking his head back and forth.
2nd Cameraman: What the hell is wrong with you?!? This is why we need a union! You a**hole wrestlers think you can do whatever the hell you want to us!
Tank looks over to the other man, dropping the first cameraman, only to smile.
Tank: You're that f**kin' loudmouth Bradley told me about huh? You're the one bitchin' to him about safety?
Cameraman: That's right! You run around here and treat us like slaves! Hit us! Call us names! This workplace is toxic!
Tank laughs a bit, smiling to himself a bit. He looks away from the man, then turns around and drives a fist into the man's face. The cameraman stumbles back and falls onto his back with a whimper of pain. Tank moves over the man, putting his foot on the man's chest and pushing down.
Tank: Let that be a lesson... Keep your f**kin' mouth shut! Now where's Bray?
Bray S Spur: Right here lard ass....
Tank turns, looking over his shoulder. With a smirk he moves towards Bray, within a moment right in his face.
Tank: Heard you were running you're f**kin' mouth about me....
Bray: [shrugging] Maybe I was. What of it?
Tank: What of it huh? Ya know... Words like that could get ya hurt around here Bray... It's okay since you haven't been around here long. Call this mercy, take this chance to apologize.
Bray raises an eyebrow and struggles to hold his laugh behind his smile.
Bray: Apologize? [chuckling] Seriously? Did I hurt the Septic Tank's feelings? Is the Marshmallow Man really about to cry?
Tank tense up, his rage making him shake a bit. He takes a slow breath in and then out. He gives off a chuckle and places a hand on Bray's shoulder, giving it a harsh squeeze.
Bray only stands there, his own hands coming up to grab Tank by his jacket.
Tank: You gonna make a move?
Bray: Why should I... You're a waste of my time... After all, ever since you got stripped of the Turmoil Championship, I don't need the pleasure of embarrassing even worse than you already have the last few weeks...
Tank scowls, his grip tightening, his other hand balling up into a fist.
Tank: You and me... Next week... No DQ....
Bray: Well.... [smirking] I was gonna take the week off, rest up for Lution, but I guess I can spare my time.... You're on....
Tank smirks and slowly lets go of Bray, backing away. He starts to cackle as he walks away, giving one last look to the floored cameraman. He looks to Bray one last time before picking the cameraman up and throwing him into a wall. Without mercy he drives his elbow into the man's jaw, sending the already beaten man down to the ground, clearly knocked out. With that Tank walks off, leaving a grinning Bray S. Spur.
Jackson Montgomery vs. Jimmy Henry