Upon entering the ring, the Broken Spirit rushes outside to the ring apron and grabs a steel chair and sets it up in the ring. He sits down and removes his jacket, placing it in the corner.
Bray S. Spur: Judging by the reception in this new arena, I can already guess that you people didn’t miss me last week?
Not amused, the crowd boos mercilessly. Bray S. Spur raises an eyebrow and scowls at the crowd. After the booing dies down, he smiles and begins to laugh.
Bray S. Spur: In case you haven’t noticed, I haven’t exactly been behaving like the Broken Spirit lately, and for good reason. A few weeks ago, I made my debut at the grandest stage of them all, Wrestlution. I busted my ass for the last few months in order to get where I needed to be.....
Bray S. Spur: ... And then I wasn’t on the show. Instead I was neglected to an insult of a pre-show battle royal filled with people that I’ve already dominated over and people that I will dominate over in the near future. Whether it be the chip on my shoulder or my skin color aside, I would’ve rather wrestled a broomstick on Turmoil instead of fighting in a battle royal with those idiots!
Bray S. Spur: And just by who eliminated me, I can tell that nobody here likes me. They can’t stand me. I don’t give two fiddly fickles about that. I’ve already beaten two of their asses. What matters now is what I have to say right now!.......
Bray S. Spur: Ever since my little outburst against Tank and a certain cameraman on Turmoil a few weeks back, I’ve been called, in a word.... “crazy”. ...Allow me to indulge you in some vital information right... now. I am not crazy. I am not mentally challenged. I am more sane than any of you ignorant bastards combined!
Bray sits back at he relishes in the onslaught of boos he receives after that comment. After the boos die down, a chant catches the superstar’s attention and he grits his teeth at hearing it.
Crowd: You are crazy! [clap clap clap clap clap] You are crazy! [clap clap clap clap clap] You are crazy! [clap clap clap clap clap] You are crazy!
Bray S. Spur begins a slow descent into madness as he starts breathing heavily and rubs his chin swiftly. After the chants slowly die down, he takes a deep breath and starts to speak again.
Bray S. Spur: ....Keep in mind, there’s a cameraman right next to me, and I’d hate to be fined for the delay of the show because I broke a damn camera. So... would you please have the audacity to shut the frick up so I can speak?
His attempt for silence fails, resulting in even louder boos. As the boos progress, Bray seems to relax a bit more as he stops scowling and begins to grin.
Bray S. Spur: Onto more pressing matters, aside from telling you my mental status, that’s not why I’m out here. I’m here because I’m on a journey. I’m on a journey to rid Turmoil of the cancer, of the fetus-infested swamp rat that is.......
Bray raises his microphone, leaving the audience in anticipation of who he’s referring to.
Bray S. Spur: ....You would like to know, wouldn’t you? Well,... I’m gonna leave you to figure that out by yourselves.
The crowd is unhappy at this, chanting “Asshole!” towards the superstar.
Bray S. Spur: He knows who he is, but if he doesn’t... He will. Just let it be known, I’ve been here for a few months, I’m bored out of my damn mind, and I'm PISSED THE HELL OFF! So now, I’m gonna make my own fun and I’m gonna take out 4 years of anger, hatred, and frustrations out on you.
Bray S. Spur: I’m gonna rip your hair out of your head, I’m gonna rip your heart out, I’m gonna crush your dreams, I’m gonna those dreams into a pot, I’m gonna cook them, and I’m gonna have me some of Tito’s world-famous spaghetti and asshole! Pause!
Bray S. Spur: Do you understand... what I’m saying... right now? Get it? Got it? GO-
Before Bray S. Spur can finish his thoughts, a siren is heard towards the entrance ramp. After seconds of pondering and anticipation, a police cruiser emerges from the curtains and stops near the ramp. The driver’s side door opens, revealing a scrawny yet sturdy police officer. He exits the cruiser and takes a step onto the ramp, microphone in hand.
Officer: Hello sir, is your name Mr. Braylin Horton?
Some fans in the front row giggle as hear the officer say his last name, “Horton”. Bray shrugs them off.
Bray S. Spur: My name is Bray S. Spur. What the hell do you want?
Officer: I’m Officer Garrus from the local police department downtown. The station has been receiving reports of you showcasing unstable behavior and unwarranted attacks to an unsuspecting cameraman that works here, is that correct?
Bray S. Spur: [shrugging] Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t. I wouldn’t even know the guys name much less his face. The fact is I’m out here trying to talk and you just showed up in a police car and interrupted me. No wonder the folks back home in Mississippi doesn’t like cops.
Various amounts of fans in the crowd cheer at this statement, either in agreement or from personal experience.
Garrus: Well the funny thing is, Mr. Spur, that a certain cameraman arrived at our station a week ago with a bruised eye and a severed shoulder. And he came in and gave us a very detailed description of him being assaulted by a.... Mr. Jackass N-Word? Whatever that means. What matters is that.....
Five more police officers emerge from the gorilla position and stand behind Officer Garrus.
Garrus: You’re being sued for assault and battery, Mr. Horton. We are here to take you into custody until further notice. You have the right to remain silent. Anything that you say-
Bray S. Spur: Nice try, Jack, but I’m not going anywhere. This is MY show, and I’m not leaving it to appeal to some punk ass cameraman!!
Despite Bray’s intentions, it doesn’t stop the officers, including Garrus, from storming the ring and attempting to subdue the superstar. Bray grabs the steel chair and swings at the officers, missing entirely. The chair is stripped from him and two officers attempt to grab his arms. Bray manages to get a hit in on Garrus, busting his lip open, before the remaining four officers finally ground him and put him in handcuffs.
After struggling to get free, Bray eventually decides its no use and loses his footing as the officers drag him from the ring apron to the police cruiser. The crowd spares no mercy at the superstar, chanting the dreaded “Na na na na... Na na na na... Hey hey hey... Goodbye!” Bray mouths curses at the back of the police car as it makes its way out of the arena.
Camera fades in with static to Sinister in a boiler room
Sinister: I was brought here by the best. To be the best. For over 10 years I've fought in front of crowds the size of the common household. I've lost my family due to it.
Sinister grabs the camera and holds it closer to his face
Sinister: I've finally reached where I belong. I am here to stay. This is the beginning of the sinister movement
Sinister throws the camera to the ground as it still records him walking away from the camera laughing maniacally.
Tank vs. Corey Ford
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Oh god... I have no words. |
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Thank god, finally, I get to hog the limelight. Welcome one and all to Turmoil 122, we have two incredible main events for you tonight! Trance vs Black and the reigning Turmoil champion Jackson Montgomery takes on the returning Malu ater this evening! |
The scene opens with a shot of several motorcycles parked outside of the all too familiar bar from last week's infamous attack. The cameras zoom in on the entrance with Big Ed's Club logo painted all over it, among other things not fit for PG television. Big Ed walks out of the establishment with two very rough looking tattooed women under his arms. The bar had gone under Ed's control. There were little the police could do to remove the unsavory gang. They were paying customers, and Joe nor his Uncle were anywhere to be found since the last Turmoil aired.
Big Ed: One second.
Ed stops and turns to Johnny's car, which never left the establishment due to last week's attack. Big Ed had his back to the camera and unzipped his pants.
Big Ed: And this is why they call me...
The two biker broads: Biiiiiiiiig Ed!
Big Ed: Ya daaaaamn right!
The cameras looked away as Ed urinated all over the car belonging to Joe's uncle. After zipping up his pants, Ed looked to the camera and grinned, showing all of his yellow teeth.
Big Ed: Joe, don't ever come back to this bar again. Or my boys will take gooooood care of you. I'm not quite ready to take your manhood just yet, boy. A shame all you really had was an Uncle. I wonder...will you even accept your next match? What happens when you're booked and your poor old uncle is left all alone? I'm sure we all remember what I did when Dennis left Madison alone. Keep that in mind, 'Prime Cut'.
Ed flexes as the two rough looking biker broads approach.
Ed: Now get these cameras off my damn property.
Seb walked through the arena carpark towards the entrance, a young boy ran up to him with a piece of paper and a pen. On closer inspection the paper was actually a photo of the moustachioed Brit.
Seb: What can I do for you kid? Make it quick I'm in a bit of a hurry.
Boy: Mr Abbott can you sign this for my brother Simon? He's a big fan but mom grounded him so he isn't here.
Seb nodded, taking the photo and signing it before handing it back.
Seb: So whose your favourite wrestler?
The boy unzipped his hoodie to reveal a Dennis Black t-shirt, Seb frowned slightly then smiled.
Seb: Well he sure is on the up and up. Now go run along your father might leave without you.
The boy darted off in the direction of angry shouts, Seb was looking for the commotion and spotted a pair of goofy looking punks next to a beat up paddy wagon hassling a lone angry man. One goofball stood out like dogs balls, Seb walked over to watch.
Angry Guy: The music coming from this rusted s*t bucket is ludicrous, where is the Tila Tequila or Queen!
The big eared goofball was the first to speak.
B.E.G: You scrub leave the name Queen off your tongue when you mention that fugly ass hoe.
Seb chuckled loudly and the goofballs turned to stare at him.
Seb: Corey, Corey, Corey. Being a s*t I see. Why don't you just do us all a favour and turn the music down? Save us all this public grief yeah?
The second goof stood tall and grinned at him.
Goof2: Yo yo yo, Freddy Mercury eat yo heart out! You should be offended having your band mentioned with the likes of Tila "eats s*t" Tequila in the same sentence.
Quicker than a viper Seb struck, backhanding Goof2 across the cheek and sending the little man spinning to the pavement. Corey jumped in between the two before things could escalate.
Corey: Chill, CHILL! We'll turn down the music down. Little L you got this.
He beckoned at Little L to turn it down but LL stood there a look of silent fury written on his painted face.
A moment passed and Little L stalked off, the music died altogether. The young boy and his angry dad nodded thanks at Seb before walking away.
Seb: I thank you for this, and if my here with your... Your friend have upset you, you'll both need a teaspoon of cement so you can both H-
Corey: Harden the f*ck up yea yea I've heard that before.
Seb turned and headed back to the arena entrance, he'd barely gotten to the doors when the sh*ty music started up again even louder this time. Seb shook his head and entered shutting the doors and blocking out the noise altogether...
After getting thrown on his ass earlier in the week by two of the biggest bouncers his ever seen, Jackson was feeling it. His back hurt, his head hurt and most of all, his championship ass hurt. He sat alone in his locker room on one of those ass pillows people use after surgery, silently rifling through his bag to get his ring gear out. Elbow pads, knee pads, trunks all come out of the bag and onto the floor. He tossed the bag to the side and stood up, feeling a bit wobbly from standing up a little too fast. He shakes his head and walks over to a TV, turning it on, the current Turmoil show is going on. Jackson walks back over to his things, picks his trunks up and placed them on the bench. Just as he unbuckled his pants and dropped them to floor, Stacy Clark knocks on the door just to let someone know she was there and walks right in.
Stacy Clark: Hello? Jackson? I’ve got some...OH MY GOD! Stacy stops short and shields her eyes.I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean…
Jackson Montgomery: Don’t be embarrassed baby! It’s nothing you haven’t seen before. Well, that’s not true. You’ve never seen anything like THIS before!
Stacy lowers her hands just as Jackson turns her direction and throws a huge crotch chop her direction. Stacy rolls her eyes before walking towards Jackson.
Stacy Clark: Can you at least cover yourself?
Jackson Montgomery: It’s all or nothing baby!
Again, Stacy rolls her eyes. She decides to move forward with the interview. The sooner it was over, the better. Jackson places one leg up on the bench and leans on his knee with his elbow.
Stacy Clark: Last week, you attacked Kassidy Hayes. Right in the middle of him talking, you kicked him in the face, then when he got back to his feet, you hit with the Howitzer. Care to explain your actions?
Jackson Montgomery: Not really. I don’t need to answer to anyone. I’m the Turmoil Heavyweight Champion!
Stacy Clark: Um...ok?
This time, Jackson rolls his eyes. He puts his foot back on the ground and gets real close to Stacy.
Jackson Montgomery: Ok fine. You drug it out of me. Kassidy Hayes is a plague. And what do we do with plagues? We eradicate them. We wipe them on the face of the planet. While the plague might cause a few casualties, in the end, the plague always loses. What I did last week was the first step to wiping the earth clean of the Kassidy Hayes plague. Much like herpes, just when you think you’ve got him down, he comes back with a vengeance and leaves you with the most discomfort you’ve ever felt.
Stacy gives Jackson a sideways look.
Stacy Clark: Are you saying you’ve got...nevermind. I’d rather not know. Moving along to tonight's matchup. You’ve been placed into a match with the islander Malu. How do you feel going into this match with your first title defense under your belt...or in this current situation, you Ninja Turtle underwear.
Jackson Montgomery: First of all, you forgot the Teenage Mutant part of that. Second, these things are like a chick magnet! Don’t think I haven’t noticed you eyeballing Jackson’s kendo stick!
Stacy’s body lurches forward like she’s thrown up in her mouth a little bit.
Jackson Montgomery: Third, I saw his little speech. Unfortunately it was all clicks, pops, and whistles so I couldn’t understand a thing he said. He seemed to not like coconuts, which is weird and all…
Jackson starts to trail off as he notices on the TV he turned on earlier, Kassidy Hayes has just shown up to the arena. Jackson walks over to the TV with a balled up fist, but instead of blasting the TV off it’s wall mount, he quietly presses the power button to turn it off. He walks back over to Stacy and right when he gets there, he reaches down and grabs the Turmoil Heavyweight championship and hurls it at the TV, knocking it off the wall and slamming into the ground. Needless to say, the TV no longer worky.
Jackson Montgomery: You want to do something productive Stacy? Go out to the parking lot and before Kassidy gets inside, tell him he better turn around and go back to where he came from. If he sticks around here, there’s a good chance history will repeat itself!
Stacy doesn’t even say anything. She looks into the camera, shrugs her shoulders and heads for the door. As soon as she leaves, Jackson plops down onto the ass pillow and lets out a sigh of relief.
Jackson Montgomery: I should not have had that gas station sushi on my way here!
As Jackson drops his TMNT underwear, the scene fades as his bare ass is the last thing everyone sees before fading to black.
The Webbs vs. Sophia & Ashley Blain
Charles Scaggs – “What a showing by those girls!”
Al Poling – “This is what happens when you let the green grass grow wild, Scaggs. It’s hard to trifle through the weeds when they’re so long!”
Charles Scaggs – “Say what you want, Al, but he pulled out a solid win!”
Al Poling – “PHOOEY! These rookies know nothing. Turmoil is the Jon Snow of this great company. I mean look at that face paint! WE HAVE JUGGALOS, SCAGGS!’
Charles Scaggs – “…and with that, we go backstage to Jim Black, who is standing by with a familiar face, Andre Black!”
Al Poling – “Now we’re talking, Scaggs! BLACK MATCHES MATTER!”
The camera switches backstage, and in full view is Jim Black standing next to the returning Andre Black. Jim, with his soothing charm and lady killer smile; and Andre with a contorted grimace on his face.
Jim Black – “Thanks, Charles! I’m standing by with a returning Andre Black, who tonight, has his first match in almost five months! Tell me, Andre…”
Andre grabs the microphone, and mushes Jim out of the camera’s frame.
Andre Black – “First of all, Howdy Doody, my name is NOT Andre Black. Not anymore. That was my slave name. That was the name I HAD to use to sign my white America paychecks.”
The man formerly known as Andre Black turns his face back to the camera.
Andre Black(?) – “I’ll be conducting my own interview.”
The crowd boo in light of this turn of events.
Andre Black(?) – “My new name…is Supreme Allah, and I have been reborn.”
Supreme smirks.
Supreme Allah – “Don’t think I came alone either.”
Allah extends his arm and motions for someone to walk into the camera’s frame. A large, muscular Afro-American man walks in from the right side, and it appears to be another familiar face.
Supreme Allah – “I plan on bringing an army back with me. An army of the enlightened. The TRUE believers. This man used to be known as Ashley Barker…another man with another name formed by the slave masters of OCW.”
Supreme Allah – “His new name is now Rakim Ali, and WE are the Five-Percent Nation.”
The crowd reactions are very mixed. Some not responding, some cheering and some booing.
Supreme Allah – “We are the men that are going to take OCW, take Turmoil into the future. We are the BLACK men that are going to break down the walls of white power built around this very company.”
Supreme smiles widely, as he remembers the man who was just OCW World Heavyweight champion and the new CEO.
Supreme Allah – “Sean McGee…another brother in peril. Another brother being smashed down by white power. I know what you’re thinking. Our former CEO was Hispanic, and our new one is Asian, so what the hell are you talking about Supreme?!”
Supreme Allah – “Our Hero, Our Incompetent Hero is as white as the floors of his mansion in New York! Not once has that half breed even considered keeping a black man on top. Look at how fast he went right back to his old formula! Look at how fast that disgusting albino pigmy champion of ours took back his power! No matter how good of a wrestler he may be, it will always be because “white is right”.”
A disgusted Supreme Allah spits onto the ground in front of him.
Supreme Allah – “And Mugen?! An Asian man that has successfully assimilated the white corporate culture. He is a fake. A fraud. A punk ass cracker wannabe.”
Supreme Allah – “I’ve been gone for five months because these white monkeys told me “they have nothing for me”. Then what happens? Some caramel cracker comes in, calling himself Dennis Black, and tells you that “Black matches matter”. You’re damn right they do, Dennis, but not your matches. Oh no. My matches! Our matches! I was even told that my brother Rakim and I had a match. We showed up, and what happened?! We were told that “we weren’t needed”. Pushed off the show to make room for the next white hype.”
Supreme turns to Rakim who is standing as still as a statue. A true soldier.
Supreme Allah – “In those five months that I was gone, I’ve been soul searching. I’ve been scouring this country for reasons to continue this fight against black injustice, and I found the truth. I found enlightenment. I found out where God has been all this time.”
Allah takes a pause, and stares menacingly into the camera.
Supreme Allah – “God is me. God is my brother Rakim. God is Sean McGee and K. D’angelo. God is every beautiful black person that hasn’t given into the white killers! The self-proclaimed “masters” have overstayed their welcome. We are no longer the soldiers that they will put on the frontlines. We are the generals. We are the enlightened. We are GOD, and when they see us storming those gates, we’ll hold our fists up proud and shout that we don’t want black power. We’re TAKING black power.”
Supreme Allah tosses the microphone to the ground, and holds his fist into the air, with Rakim following in suit. The camera fades out, focused on the intensity and sheer anger being displayed by the self-named “Five-Percent Nation”.
Corey and Little L wandered the backstage area looking for the locker rooms.
Corey: The message from Vincent told us the guy we're looking for would be in his locker room.
LL: Cool, did he say if he was going to meet us there?
Corey pulled his phone out and checked the message.
Corey: Nah, he wants us to show him our savageness.
The two walked in silence a few moments before coming upon a cracked locker room door, the light from inside spilled into the corridor. Moving closer they heard someone counting.
???: 90-91-92-93-94-95
Corey peered in and saw the target, a beefcake of a man with no leg definition. Corey stepped back to confer with LL.
Corey: He wants us to beat up a cripple? The guy looks like Rigby from Regular Show when he gets ripped to do a pull up.
LL: Cripple huh? I don't mind taking one for the team.
Corey: Nah bro we do this as a team or not at all. Ready?
LL nodded and Corey clutched the door pulling it open and storming in. The man mid push up didn't have any time to move as the pair descended on him kicking and stomping the body and legs.
Corey: Vincent says help Loki and you'll get more pain!
The man lay motionless on the locker room floor, every so often his legs would spasm and twitch.
Clap, clap, clap, clap.
Little L and Corey spun around to see Vincent glide into the locker room.
Vincent: Well done lads. Well done. Now now, let's not get greedy. There is enough of our musclebound friend Axton to go around.
Vincent moved out of the door way and a big rig of a man walked in, his features were covered by a mask that looked like it was made from pig skin but the eyes and mouth looked eerily human and way too realistic.
Corey: Cool mask Bubba, oh and this guy is all yours...
The big man pointed at Axton and with a grin.
Bubba: Cin I wares 'im like a glurve?
Vincent shook his head then motioned for Bubb to lift the gym junkie off the floor and finish him.
Bubba howled and slammed the poor motionless man in to the hard floor with a THWACK. Vincent moved in kneeling at the side of Axton Bravo and held his arms out, laughing all the while.
Moments pass and Vincent waited until his companions exited the room, turning out the lights. The camera only see darkness.
Vincent: No pain no gain Axton my friend.
Scene ends.
Corey sat in a busted ass lawn chair next to his Sandman in the arena carpark. The tunes blaring throughout the carpark had passer-by's and arena security shooting dirty looks.
Little L stuck out the back of the Sandman, smoke drifted skywards when the doors had opened.
LL: Yo ninja how cool was that beat down of Leprechaun MacGregor?
Corey stopped what he was doing and turned to look at his new friend.
Corey: Huh? Yea man it was sick, pass us a grape Faygo.
Little L tossed a can towards Corey who caught it and cracked it open, taking a swig he stood up.
Corey: Did Vincent give us a number to call him on? And what about that farmer, you did give him the right address?
Little L's mouth dropped when he realised his mistake.
LL: I told him Terminal 5, shit bro didn't think we'd be at a new arena while renovations happened.
Corey laughed and pulled out his phone.
Corey: Dude that is hilarious, you got his number though right?
LL: Yea he did man. Hang on it's in here somewhere.
Ducking back into the Sandman some rummaging could be heard and Little L reappeared holding a crumpled piece of paper.
LL: He gave me this weird parchment. I think it's pig skin, he had a bunch of them in his glove box all tattooed with his number and that's it. Creepy huh?
Corey took the paper/pigskin and dialled the number.
BaaaRing..
BaaRing..
BaRing..
???: 'Ullo? Who dis n how y'all get dis number?
The very southern drawl was hard to understand but Corey figured it out.
Corey: G'day I'm Corey. Ah Corey Ford, you dropped my friend Lucas off the other day.
???: mmm, Little L. Yea I den ger drop 'I'm off. Da little fecker told me y'all be down T5, bin dern ere fer goin on a week now.
Corey: Sorry about that mang, Terminal 5 is getting an upgrade so we got moved for the week. I think we're six blocks away from T5.
???: Damned six blocks which way? Norf, Souf, left or right?
Corey: Yo LL, did we go North of T5 or what?
LL: North bro.
Corey: We went north dude from T5, you can't miss us when you get here. Keep an eye out for the fluro lime green and banana yellow two toned Sandman.
???: Gern git mah rig dern cleened n ready fer youse to crash in stead of ur car, I'll be round dem der parts in a few hours.
Corey: Awesome guy, just one last thing. You didn't tattoo your name onto these pig skin cards.
???: Yer dat der is "hog skin" hur hur hur. Y'all can call me Bubba and I'll be seeing y'all real soon hur hur hur.
The phone clicked dead and Corey smiled.
Corey: He'll be here in a few hours, something to do with a clean rod for us to put our heads on?? I dunno it was pretty gay sounding but hey I don't judge that behaviour.
LL: Now that you mention it, I thought I heard him say something about the rule of the road numerous times on my way here. I could also be mistaken but I thought I heard him unzip his pants a few times too.
Corey supressed a shudder and shook that thought from his head.
Corey: Any of that dank kush left? Let's have a compression session!!
The pair high fived and climbed into the back of the Sandman and closed the doors, moments later smoke streamed through the cracks before stopping completely as it sealed air tight. The music started up again louder this time much to the chagrin of passer-by's.
Scene opens up backstage, Stacy Clark walks up to Kassidy's locker room and knocks, Kassidy opens the door with a grin on his face,
Kassidy: I have been expecting you,
Kassidy steps out of the way and invites Stacy into his locker room, which is more of a luxury viewing room, a single bench and hanging rack holds Kass' gear the rest of the room is set for Kassidy to be able to relax. There is a buffet of food and a leather couch placed in front of a 50" 4K LG set up to watch Turmoil unfold.
Kassidy: Please have seat and help yourself,
Kassidy and Clark sit, the tv is paused on Kassidy arriving,
SC: How are you feeling tonight Kassidy and why are you here on a night off?
Kassidy: I'm fine Stacy, while Jackson attacked me last week like a coward, I am doing great. Now Bradley gave the week off but I couldn't stay away, I know my mere presents is on Jackson's mind and that is exactly where I need to be. I'm like a thorn on the rose that is his title, While he holds it, he will always have a sharp pain to remember my presence.
SC: Are you alluding to a attack on Jackson tonight? I can see by what is on your TV that you heard Jackson's warning early tonight.
Kassidy: Stacy, I'm a man of my word an Jackson has my word, that Tonight, I'll stay out of his match. Tonight I'll be here as a observer just as all the fans in attendance. I'll be the bigger man, the better man, but the time will come where I tag Jackson back.
Kassidy sits with a devilish smirk, and the Crowd pops
SC: On the Subject of Jackson's match, how do you predict the champion does tonight?
Kassidy: Jackson has been on a roll and he needs to keep it that way because you know what happens when a predator gets the scent of blood. The prey is dead without ever knowing it, until it is too late. Don't be fooled for one second and think Jackson is the top dog, the predator, around here, That is, was, and always will be me.
Now I'm going to hit play and watch the show, you are welcomed and stay and join me otherwise, there is the door.
Scene fades out with Stacy Clark and crew leaving Kassidy's locker room.
#Influence vs 5% Nation
Irving stands in the center of the ring , his head tilted up looking down on the crowd as he listens to the chants of “We Want Aries!” .Which brings a smile to his face as Irving keeps his nose tilted up shaking his head as he walks to the ropes picking up a microphone up from a stage hand. Kicking the bottom rope just barely missing his head before Irving returns to the center of the ring, looking back up the ramp towards the locker room.
Irving: You would think yall would have learned your lesson last time yall in the back didn’t give me anything to do….
Irving: But I guess since for once I am in a good mood so you shouldn’t worry about me dragging one of these overweight disgusting example of a human over that railing and throwing them around the ring like I did to Bingo last week.
Irving begins to laugh as the crowd begins to erupt booing him as they become restless and one brave fan throws a box of popcorn which lands at Irvings feet.
Irving: That pretty much sums up every single one of you puppets. You all are so useless you couldn’t even raise your fat arm up and muster the strength to throw your beloved snack at me.
The rest of the crowd begins to follow suit throwing food, drinks and trash into the ring as Irving just stands there not budging as he continues.
Irving: This how you all try to call your hero out here? You throw your food out as a offering to that fat piece of trash Aries? That’s good keep it up I want him to feel at home in this ring when I throw him from one side of this ring to the other…. “1 Tubby Tubby….” Pick him up again and throw his fat ass like the piece of trash he is “2 Tubby Tubby”. I will peal him off this match leaving a grease stain body outline as I throw him yet again “3 Tubby Tubby”. And when I am all done and his fat gut stops shaking I will put him out of his misery and make him Tap
Irving: You know what I will even make this interesting for yall. Since they in the back didn’t want to book this match how about we just keep this short in sweet. FAT boy I know you can hear me…. Get on out here so I can make and example of you in a blink of a eye. 5mins is all I need to whoop you and put you back in your place with the rest of this trash in the ring…..
The ring crew slides in and begins pushing the trash out of the ring as the camera pans to the ramp waiting the entrance of Aries.
Seth Irving vs Aries
The camera pans backstage to the secret underground lair of #Influence. Sid Harrison is pretty banged up and is just lay down with his feet up inside the loveshack. Austin Lee who is also beat up is just lay down on the couch with cucumber over his eyes. Kassie comes running in.
Kassie: "You guys ok?"
Neither Sid or Austin respond.
Kassie: "That was some beating you guys took out there."
Kassie is still waiting for one of them to talk but there is just silence.
Kassie: "Please say something?"
Austin Lee sits up and wipes the cucumber form his eyes.
Austin Lee: "Don't worry about us Kassie. We been beat up before."
Sid Harrison with a sad looks on his face sits up. He looks at Kassie and Austin and shakes his head.
Sid Harrison: "I finally know what it feels like to be Jimmy Henry."
Austin Lee: "You alright big guy?"
Sid Harrison: "No Austin, I'm not alright."
Sid Harrison steps out of the loveshack.
Sid Harrison: "You said so yourself, we been beat before but this needs to STOP!"
Austin Lee: "We will be reday next time after the stunt they pulled."
Sid Harrison: "No we won't."
Austin Lee: "What are you saying?"
Sid Harrison: "What I am saying is you need to stop treating everything as a joke. When we get in that ring we need to work as a team and tonight you let them get the better of you. They took you out before they got to me because you let them."
Sid pauses for a second.
Sid Harrison: "I am not blaming you for tonight because I too should have done better but we need to get on the same page in that ring otherwise we are going to get ripped apart. We need to be the ones laying down the beating and not be on the receiving end for once."
Sid Harrison: "We need to train to become not just a tag team, but one of the greatest tag teams in Online Championship Wrestling history.
Sid makes his way to his changing room.
Kassie: "Everything ok Austin?"
Austin Lee: "He's right."
The X-tron flickers on and the scene opens with Joe Zhivago and a young Doctor standing outside a hospital ward.
Young Doctor: Thank you for waiting, Mr. Zhivago. Your Uncle’s condition has stabilised since your last visit, but he hasn't woken up yet. You should go in and speak to him, he can still hear everything.
Joe thanks the doctor and enters the small room. His Uncle Johnny lay motionless on a hospital bed, his face was badly bruised. A heart monitor beeped in the background. To think all this happened at the hands of Big Ed filled Joe with a rage he didn't know existed. Joe let's out a deep breath as he takes a seat next Johnny.
Joe: I'm sorry Johnny. This is all my fault. I thought I was so clever sticking my nose in where it didn't belong and all just for a my own satisfaction.
Joe paused to look at Johnny as if he would suddenly get redemption, the only reply was the beeping of the monitor.
Joe: And I'm sorry for walking out on you like I did, when we met at your club. I could do with some of your advice now to be honest… The people here in New York are pretty crazy, huh?
The beeping continued to fill the silence
Joe: Oh I almost forgot, I found this at the club...
Joe reaches into his inside pocket and takes out an old photo. He props it up on the bedside cabinet. The photo of Johnny and Joe's father, when they were a tag teamin, in their “glory” years.
Joe: Anyway, I have to get going already, but I'll be back as soon as I can…
Joe pauses for a moment as he reaches the door and turns to look at his Uncle again - the look on his face shows how distressed he is.
Joe: Don't worry though, Johnny. I'll make sure Ed understands that his consequences have actions too. But I'm not going to stoop to his level, I'm going kick his ass the only way that matters - in the ring, in front of everyone. Hopefully you'll wake up in time to see.
The camera fades…
Sever: Good Evening OCW . I am Miss Jessica Sever, but you can just call me Sever for short *An audicious chant of Who? echoes around the arena* I know, I know, you're all wondering who this fabulous woman is that is pacing around your ring, well I for one am no Bombshell or Diva or whatever your women are calling themselves this week, I mean I'd rather stick with one of those names instead of what I'd call them *Sever let's out a wicked laugh*. I am out here today to introduce the newest member of the Turmoil Roster, my client, a man with who I have had the pleasure of managing for the past 2 years all over the world. Please if you will, stand up and give a joyeous round of applause and a huge welcome back to my client...
Carlos Cruz is pacing around the ring captivated by the mixed reactions from the OCW Crowd. Carlos leans over the middle rope and signals to the ringside for a microphone.
Cruz: Three Years, Three Years of regret, hatred and anguish pent up inside just waiting for the right time and place to exert it upon the world and now that time has arrived. Wrestlution has just passed and man what a show it was, but that show, that name is tainted to me, the grandest stage of them all is now my own personal hell, I would rather be writhing in pain from the lashes of a cat o'nine tails, I would rather be Crucified like my great great great great great great uncle Jesús *Sever leans in close to Carlos and Whispers in his ear* What do you mean he isn't my uncle, his name is Jesús for Christ's sak... *Cruz stops talking at the realisation of who he is talking about* Nevermind that back to where I was. I'd rather be wrapped up nice and warm in a human burrito and savagely eaten by Aries than hear that name rung in my ears.
Cruz flinches at the thought of the name Wrestlution flowing through his head.
Cruz: It sickens me to walk back into this arena, to this same pathetic crowd, to these same worthless empty vessels you call the OCW staff, to find that the show that I started to put my blood, sweat, tears, heart, mind and soul nearly 9 long years ago is now over run by these no name; should've stayed in the sack of your papi; useless excuses of Professional, and I use that term lightly, Wrestlers.
A Chant of 'Please Retire' is echoed around the Arena whilst Cruz taunts the crowd.
Cruz: That's it, come on, that's what I like to hear. A unison of uneducated drabble emulating from your foul decaying lungs. Do you know how many times I've heard that exact phrase in my 9 years here? They haven't even got a word for it yet, so do you really think I'm going to listen to another couple of thousand people..or if I was to add all your IQ together, which by the way I'm being polite about, would just about make the IQ of a goldfish. Do you really think that is going to make me walk back up that ramp and hang up my boots.
An ominous chant of Yes starts to build up and continue for a couple of minutes, in the mean time Carlos is just slowly pacing around the ring, twirling the microphone around in his right hand a couple of times before coming to a complete halt, eyes closed, microphone held to his mouth.
Cruz: Well I'm sorry but the only thing keeping me away this time is my Grave. Now I know I'm not the most prolific winner, I'm far from it, but by the burning fires of Hell, Michigan of course, I will strife to make Turmoil the show it once was and the show it should damn well be.
Cruz drops the microphone and escorts Sever out of the ring whilst the crowd boos the pair as they walk up the ramp and into the backstage area.
Sophia: Ashley, where are we going?
The moment their match had ended, Ashley had insisted they jump in her car. They had been driving for 10 minutes.
Ashley: You don’t have to guess, here we are.
Sophia looked out the window to see a rundown bar, a familiar one that OCW cameras had been visiting frequently over the past month: You brought me your work, seriously? What the hell?
Ashley: Relax, I’m not working tonight. They got out of the car and began walking to the door: We are meeting some people here.
Sophia: Um...please tell me Sid isn’t here.
Ashley went straight faced and looked suspicious. She pushed open the door and was met with a raucous shout.
Austin Lee: #Ladies!
Sophia’s eyes adjusted to the the dim lighted room. Four familiar faces stood out, even though there were only a few others in the bar. Austin Lee, Kassie, Sid, and B-17.
Sophia looked over at Ashley who had a slight smile on her face.
Ashley: I figured after last week, you could use a reminder that you still have friends here.
Ashley walked over to B-17 and give him a kiss on the cheek.
B-17: Hi, hun. B-17 looked over at Sophia: Congrats, champ!
Sophia: Thanks, B! Glad to see you back to work. Was a little worried for a minute there.
Sophia eyes glance past B-17 and Ashley where she catches Sid eyeing her with a shit-eating grin on his face. In an attempt not to engage him any further, she quickly looks away.
Sid, of course, accepts this unspoken challenge and makes his way toward Sophia with a cocky strut that makes his shoulder shimmy with each step. He makes sure to take a moment to smooth out his moustache ends to #Perfection.
Sid: Wellllll #hello there, Sophia! *wink*
Sophia: Uhh… Hey Sid… One second
Sophia leans on the bar and waves down the bartender.
Sophia: Can I get a cranberry and Vodka please?
Sid: ahh…. Keepin it #Classy I see. Sid smirks
Sophia looks around desperately for saving. Ash and B are sitting a few seats down engaged in conversation and Austin has just broke a pool stick after losing to Kassie in a game of pool.
Austin: #My bad
Austin disposes of the broken pool stick quickly before anyone else notices it. Sid picking up his phone as he begins to place a phone call with a suspicious look on his face.
Kassie: #Please tell me he isn’t doing what I think he is doing…
Kassie begins to set the table up for another game, as Austin goes to investigate what Sid is up to. Sophia quickly running to the table and picking up a pool stick for a game or more then likely to beat Sid over the head with.
Sophia: How do you even deal those two?
Kassie: #What Austin isn’t that bad…
Ashley comes walking up to the pool table after sending B-17 to check on Austin and Sid being in supervised in her bar.
Ashley: He has been getting better since leaving Riot and Sid is just….. words can’t even describe Sid…
Kassie: #Classy….
The girls begin the game of pool which quickly escalates as Sophia is better than Kassie originally had thought.
B-17: Sid no… you can’t do this.
Sid puts his hand up trying to hush B-17 as he finishes placing his phone call: #Done.
Austin jumps up taking a seat on top of the bar: #Oh I got to see how this goes over. I told you last week you can’t control the #Sidberg you can only hope to contain him…
Sid: Also pay up I told you I would have a date and she would be a #Good girl. I did one better and brought a world champion.. sorry B, maybe one day when your back doesn’t hurt you will get your belt..
Austin begins to check his pockets for his wallet unable to find them he yells over at Kassie who responds by throwing his wallet to him: #Thank you…
Austin pays Sid $5 for him winning the bet.
B-17: I see you two play for high stakes, want to set the card table up?
Sid: It will be here in a second don’t worry.
A faint beeping sound can be heard coming from the outside of the bar slowly growing louder as B-17 goes to investigate.
B-17: oh God!
B-17,Sophia and Ashley all jump as the back of a flatbed comes crashing through a empty wall in the bar. Sid, Austin and Kassie all don’t even blink a eye as they see the love shack on top of the flatbed.
Sid: Pay up I told you I could get the love shack here in under 5mins.
Austin goes to pay Sid again but is interrupted as Ashley comes running up quickly: No, hell no! This is my bar and I refuse to allow you to bring that urine puddle into the bar!
Sid: Baby, I don’t need to bring him into the bar. With that he climbed onto the back of the truck, took off his pants to show some skimpy undies and jumped into the “urine puddle” with a smile on his face
Loki McGregor vs. Colt Matthews
The camera quickly goes backstage because there was word of a commotion. The camera races around the backstage area, searching for the cause of the rumor. The cameraman finally stumbles upon the scene. Aries is tossing things around in a rage. Coffee makers, chairs and even flipping over tables. Aries is furious over what happened earlier in the night. Screaming at the top of his lungs, Aries begins throwing punches into the air, hitting absolutely nothing.
Officials and other notable faces try to calm the big man, but Aries is just out of his mind. Finally, Trance comes into the picture, trying to console his long-time friend.
Jacob Trance – “Stephen! STEPHEN! Calm the hell down!”
Aries stops for a brief moment before scolding Trance.
Aries – “CALM DOWN?! CALM DOWN?! DID YOU SEE WHAT HAPPENED OUT THERE?! DID YOU SEE WHAT I JUST WENT THROUGH?!”
Jacob cautiously thinks of how to respond to Aries.
Jacob Trance – “Of course I saw, and I get why you’re angry, but you have to relax. You’re going to pass out again!”
Aries, breathing rather heavily, realizes that his tantrum is a bit too much.
Aries – “You’re Jacob. You’re absolutely right, but I don’t CARE anymore. I used to be the best. THE BEST! People used to look at me and see something GREAT. Now they see a shadow of what I used to be. A shadow in the shape of a boulder, and not even a f***ing chiseled boulder! A ROUND ONE! I used to be considered someone in the league of the one and only Nate Ortiz. Now? I’m a God damned laughing stock.”
Aries picks up one of the chairs he had flung, and sits down to catch his breath.
Aries – “I can barely breathe. My face is as red as a lobster’s ass. I can’t even cut an orange without winding myself.”
Jacob walks up to his friend, and places his hand on his shoulder.
Jacob Trance – “Then change it. Make people remember who you were. Make people remember the man with so many accolades that’s only rivaled by “the first wrestler.”
Aries – “I don’t know how! It may have been a knock off, but I truly believed I was the best in the world, and now I’m just the fattest. My sweat tastes sweet and blood tastes salty. They call Sid Harrison, “Sidberg”, but they call me “Cheeseburg.” I can’t do this anymore, Jacob. I just…can’t. I’m not a legend. I’m Badass Bill working a comedy role for a quick paycheck. I can’t be here right now…”
Aries stands up, and wobbles from slight lightheadedness. He slowly, but surely walks away from his friend as Trance looks on, worrying about Aries’ wellness, perhaps distracting from his match which is up next.
CO-MAIN EVENT
Dennis Black vs. Jacob Trance
The camera fades into black leather and as the camera pans around Malu can be seen on the screen.
Malu: You know I thought the powers at be would ease this vet back into things. I won’t lie I hated the idea of having to dwell with the bottom feeders again before working my way up to the champ. In stead I get the champ tonight.
Malu: He may not know it yet but he is in for the beating of a lifetime. He’s going to get five years of frustration and anger inside a 20 foot by 20 foot ring. It’s not a game tonight it won’t be a match. Tonight is going to be a beating.
Malu cracks his knuckles.
Malu: Like Outcast sings, “I’m sorry Ms. Jackson…” (Malu sings in a voice remanicent of Israel "Iz" Ka'ano'i Kamakawiwo'Ole” “I am for real” “I meant to make your daughter cry”. I bashed Jackson’s head a trillion times”.
Malu: Back in the day the people used to chant “Malu’s gonna eat you”. They thought it was funny. After a while I did to, I mean damn I went from light heavyweight star to a superheavyweight; I did look like I just ate someone. But tonight that chant is gonna be different. It’s gonna go, “Malu’s gonna beat you” , from pilar to post Jackson. From one end of the ring to the other.
Malu: When it’s all settled you’ll be staring up at the skylights as the ref counts 1…2…3…
Malu smiles at the camera.
Malu: It’s ok Jackson, because you’ll just be the first on a long list. It will be great Jackson just great!
Malu’s smile turns into a scowl as the camera zooms in on his face then fades to black.
CO-MAIN EVENT
Malu vs. Jackson Montgomery