Refueled III Results
The High Octane Television logo gives way and we are live for the third show in Refueled era as the final four of the High Octane World Championship Tournament takes place tonight.
Without any hesitation we cut to the ring where we see the wrestlers for our first match are already in the ring and the monkeys in the truck are wasting no time in getting this show up and going.
The bell rings as Doozer and Flo approach each other to the center of the ring. Flo kicks things off rather quickly when she strikes Dooze in the midsection with a kick and follows it up with a few elbows to the face before capping it off with a gutwrench suplex. Dooze is able to get back to his feet after Flo eggs him on to get back to his feet. She charges at Dooze and is able to take him down to the mat by pounding him with several lefts and rights. She’s able to get back to her feet and is able to connect with a front falling elbow drop. She goes for the cover but only gets a two count.
Joe Hoffman: Flo on fire here in the opening bouts of Refueled and she’s not holding back on Doozer.
Benny Newell: Well how did you expect this to go? Seems like Aunt Flo always seems to be having that time of month when Refueled always comes around. Find that creepy and a little erotic at the same time.
….anyways, the match continues as Flo continues to go to work on Dooze. Dooze, however, has had enough of this shit as he is able to get to his feet and fight off Flo by swinging around and clubbing her with a huge clothesline. Dooze continues to hold on to Flo’s arm as she is staggered back up to her feet by a very frustrated Doozer and he lets her have it by sweeping her leg, forcing her back down to the mat and following it up finally with a leg drop to the neck. Dooze goes for a cover this time but only gets a two count.
Joe Hoffman: Doozer isn’t playing around anymore! I thought Flo could have been hurt in that last series of assaults by Doozer!
Benny Newell: Don’t be ridiculous! She’s a tough motherfucking bitch! Doozer is a pussy and he’ll eat it by the time this match is over!
Doozies assault continues as he just continues to improvise his moves as the production team never seemed to receive anything from him. Dooze thought after that last leg drop was pretty good, that the idea of a flurry of elbow drops would be just as good. Well, Dooze goes for that first elbow drop and…you guessed it, Flo escapes as Dooze drops to the mat. Flo gets back up and uses the opportunity to get back into control. As Dooze is still on the mat, before he can get back up quickly, Flo is able to trap Dooze in a bridge headscissor as the ref immediately drops down to check on Dooze to see if he wants to quit. Dooze, with as much as he could barely move it, was enough to move his head to indicate that he still wanted to go. Dooze is trying to reach the ropes but Flo locks the bridge in even tighter. Doozer starts to realize he’s not going to make it to the ropes so, in a desperate attempt to turn the tide, he shifts his body to the side and slams down on Flo’s legs. Flo releases the hold as she tries to get herself together, but in a quick and unexpected turn of events, Dooze grabs the legs of Flo and shifts over her and traps her in a bridge of his own in the form of a pin and gets the three count! Dooze releases and rolls out of the ring quickly before Flo could even process what the fuck happened.
Joe Hoffman: Holy shit and Doozer gets the win over Flo in surprising fashion! I don’t think Flo was expecting that!
Benny Newell: Well of course she didn’t you fucking idiot! Look at her face! I couldn’t sum that face up as good as that! Flo got ROBBED in that win!
Flo continues to look on out towards Doozer shocked and pissed as Doozer got a quick one over her. Doozer smiles, seemingly shocked himself, but holds his hand in the air and celebrates his victory as he heads backstage.
We cut towards the back with Zion preparing himself for his match with Scottywood for the evening. As he’s punching and kicking his punching bag, Blaire Moise walks into his locker room and approaches him. Zion looks rather perplexed as to why Blaire wants to talk with him. He shakes it off and respectfully lets her interrupt his pre-match work out.
Blaire Moise: Darin, we know you’ve taken your loss last week to Max Kael hard. You made that evidently clear. But most people want to understand: why? Why are you taking it so hard and letting it get to you?
Darin Zion: It’s how I was born and raised. My step father basically didn’t allow me to fail. I wasn’t allowed to get an A- without thinking I had shit on the family legacy. He thought I could take over the family business and obviously, I disgraced him. I take every failure hard. I make one botch in a match and I rewatch in constantly to improve. I’ve tried to break it for years. I just can’t accept it. I constantly watched everything I did in that match to pick it apart. Every joke, every criticism people gave me; I know I should care, but it eats at me. Hell, half the shit people say to me back in the locker room; I’ve already been tearing myself apart in regards to it.
Blaire looks at Zion rather concerned for a moment as he just holds his head down low. He cracks his neck for a moment as she grabs his attention.
Blaire Moise: Look, truth be told lots of people suffer from anxiety and depression. You’re not the only one out there battling it. It’s definitely commendable you’re battling it publically. So what lessons are you taking into your match with Scottywood this evening as you’re obsessed in preparing for this match.
Darin Zion: I can’t slip; got to fight hard and win tonight. Scottywood’s one hell of an opponent. We’ve stacked shit on each other all week, but it comes down to this match for both of us. People keeps talking like we’re both irrelevant shit heads like we didn’t do anything in HOW ever or it didn’t matter because the legends weren’t here. Newsflash: we kept the damn lights on a helluva lot longer than they could have been on. We took on HOW after those legends took a hiatus for their own mental sanity. I get it. We didn’t take down the best. But you cannot take away those accomplishments from us. Not me and definitely not Scottywood.
Zion’s eyes light up with passion and fury. His face takes beet red.
Darin Zion: Both of us put our bodies on the line for the last 2 years HOW had it’s lights on in round 2. Hell, Scottywood gave me my debut match here. I’ve watched him ever since I won against him the first time. I have a lot of respect for him. He fought and clawed to win his first HOW World Championship. He went through hell to get his first championship run after defeating Scott Stevens. If anyone’s fighting harder and obsessing about that 97 red strap more than me; it’s Scottywood.
Zion wipes the sweat away from his hair and grabs a towel and places it around his neck.
Darin Zion: I’ll be damned if they disrespect us after tonight. I’m walking out to that ring and I’m walking into hell. Scottywood’s about to put every punishment he’s suffered to gain his first World Championship. He’s clawing for the first shot after this tournament against its winner. Well, Scottywood, I’ll be damned if I just sit back and hand you a free win like I did to Max Kael. I’m just as pissed off and angry as you are. I’m damn well just as pissed off I got knocked out of this tournament. You know it too. You know I’m fighting angry. I got back on my feet against Hanson and I plan on continuing my momentum. When I’ve found my focus; I will fight just as hard as you do. But make no mistake about it Scooter. I might respect the hell out of you and feel you deserve the world, but I’m not going to be a pushover. Show me that fury. Unleash that anger that’s pent up. I haven’t gone through the fires and I need to experience what it means to hold the top prize in all of wrestling. And that’s exactly what I want in our match tonight.
Zion raises his metaphoric class in the air.
Darin Zion: So, I offer you a toast, my friend. May the best man win tonight….
Zion smirks knowing full well where he’s going with this. He chuckles knowing he’s running with bad pun.
Darin Zion: And Scottywood….when I say best man…we all know I’m talking about me.
He winks at the camera as Blaire Moise shakes her head as we cut to our first commercial break.
Joe welcome us back to ringside as Benny is blatantly refilling his glass with Jack talks about the upcoming match between Joey Conrad and Dan Ryan and how Joey Conrad has been on the cusp of capturing a big victory here in HOW but has yet to be able to while Dan Ryan is looking to make a big impact in his first HOW match.
“Party Till We Die” by MAKJ & Timmy Trumpet hits and out flies the energetic Joey Conrad followed slowly by HOW Hall of Famer Silent Witness. Making his way down to the ring, BEnny wonders if the new kid will have any energy left by the time the bell rings.
Dan Ryan’s music hits as HOW fans get their first look at the hulking 6’7” and 305 pound Dan Ryan who is dressed in plain black trunks with sunglasses. Joe comments that the as the 6’0” and 190 pound Conrad is going to be at heavy disadvantage, giving up seven inches and over 100 pounds to Dan Ryan.
The bell rings and they dance around for a moment before going for a collar elbow tie up but Conrad ducks under Ryan’s arms and drop kicks him in the back. Ryan Stumbles a few steps forward but stays on his feet as he turns around into another drop kick from Conrad. Ryan staggers back as Conrad hits the ropes but Ryan charges back and drills Conrad with a clothesline that turn the kid inside out. Ryan rag dolls Conrad around with a couple moves before he whips him hard into the corner.
Conrad nearly flips over the turnbuckle from the force as Ryan then lifts Conrad up onto the top turnbuckle. Joe mentions how these doesn’t look good just as Conrad throws a kick to the side of Ryan’s head, followed by three more as Ryan staggers backwards as Conrad stands up and connects with a flying axe-handle smash. Ryan still manages to stay on his feet as Conrad hits the ropes and nails a floatover DDT which finnally takes Ryan down as Conrad goes for the cover.
Ryan powers out as Conrad knows he needs to stay on the big man as he heads back to the top ropes and sets up for his big flying drop kick. Ryan stands up and turn around to see a flying Conrad coming toward him and catches him mid air and counters with a big powerslam that shakes the ring as he goes for the cover.
TH…. He has the ropes!
But it was Silent Witness who uses his cane to hook the leg over and throw it on the ropes unknowingly to the referee as Joe quickly points out. Ryan knows though as he exits the ring and starts to stalk the Hall of Famer who tries his best to back peddle. Ryan is just about to grab WItness as we see Conrad flying over the top ropes with a senton that takes out Ryan and saves his mentor.
Benny cheers on Conrad like he is some superhero as Joe says this match should have been over if not for Witness. But Conrad helps Ryan to his feet and slam him into the barricade, and then leads hims into the steel steps and then drops a teabag on Ryan face. Benny claims that is the greatest wrestling move ever as Conrad rolls Ryan back into the ring and once again perching himself up onto the top rope as Joe says he’s once again looking for The Flying Wallop.
Standing on the top turnbuckle, Ryan slowly pulls himself back to his feet and wipes his face off as he turns around to a flying dropkick from Conrad. But again Ryan counters mid air, grabbing Conrad’s legs and connecting with a layout powerbomb as Joe Hoffman yells Humility Bomb and the referee goes for the cover.
Bryan McVay announces Dan Ryan as the winner as the referee checks on Conrad who is laid clean out in the middle of the ring. Joe comments that once again Conrad has come so close to that big win in HOW, but has again just missed it. Benny down a shot of Jack and shakes his head as he still thinks the teabagging should have secured Conrad the victory.
Conrad is able to roll out of the ring to Witness who pats his mentee on the back for another solid showing, happy with the effort that his young protege has given in another hard fought match. Ryan exits the ring with a smirk on his face as he has conquered his opening match in HOW.
We cut to a wooden desk with a HOW Logo emblazoned on the front of it giving it a rather stately, official look akin to Resolute Desk. Seated behind it is one Maximillian Kael, HOW Hall of Famer, Prime Minister of Maxopotamia and Lord of Kaelsalvania. He is dressed in his wrestling attire, his full body brace glistening in the low light while silvery, pointed metal teeth glimmer from behind his chapped, cracked lips.
Max Kael: My fellow High Octaners. I am Maximillian Kael, Prime Minister of Maxopotamia, Lord of Kaelsalvania, Warrant Officer of WORTHY and hell of a guy. I come to you today to speak about Destiny. To speak about Fate. To speak about the Future. Since High Octane Wrestling opened two months ago we’ve had a few bumps along the way but as your duly self-instated Prime Minister is here to tell you that so long as you invest yourselves in me.. Everything will be fine.
A shark like grin stretches across Max’s face as he leans forward, his fingers spreading across the desk in a processive manner.
Max Kael: Oh sure, there is Lee Best and Michael Best running things on the top. There is Christopher America, Scottywood and Townsend on the bottom tending to the day to day activities but it is I, Maximillian Kael, who has taken it upon myself to shoulder the burden of being your true leader. To help lead us, as a company and as a culture forward, to lead us toward the golden shores of success and glory!
Balling his fists up Max slams them down on his desk as if to drive home the point of his statement as his smile stretches even wider. His dagger like metal teeth gnash together creating a twisted screeching noise which seems to add to his growing fervor.
Max Kael: And so as we continue onto the finals of the tournament don’t think of me as just some normal wrestler here but as a President to the People, a Leader of the Legions, a Master of the Masses! I am the truth of High Octane Wrestling more so than anyone else. More than Michael Best who literally retired himself last month. More than Darin Zion or Christopher America or Cecilworth Farthington or John Sektor, etc, etc.. I am High Octane regardless of whether I win or lose and I will take this company as far as it needs to go, screaming and crying if I have too because that.. THAT..
He pauses for a moment with a thoughtful look on his face. His tongue slithers out over his lips and teeth leaving behind a fresh glaze of saliva before it snakes its way back into his mouth.
Max Kael: That is the glory of High Octane. It’s not just some company, a website, a few names and a wrestling card.. It’s pain and blood and insanity, it’s hardcore madness distilled into a product your pour into your eyes, ears and heart every time it’s on. It’s the blood of our enemies, it’s the fire of our hatred, it’s the broken bones of all those who came before us and all who will be laid down after us. I am High Octane Wrestling.. I AM… your great and glorious leader. So.. regardless of what happens here tonight kiddos remember.. On this day and every day going forward..
Max stands slowly, his smile wide, almost painfully so as he glowers down at the camera with his one blue eye.
Max Kael: ..My name is Maximillian Kael, First of My Name, Long May I Maim…heh-heh..
And with that the Prime Minister of Maxopotamia slides from behind his desk and exists the shot as we cut to a commercial break.
Back live and “Drink, Drank, Drunk” by Hellyeah hits as the crowd welcomes Scottywood into the arena. Scottywood jumps into the ring looking more focused than ever to take on his opponent tonight. “Bow Down” by I Prevail blares on the PA System next with Darin Zion locking eyes on Scottywood in the ring. Zion slides into the ring and shakes Scottywood’s hand before Joel Hortega rings the bell for the action.
Zion charges towards Scottywood trying to take him down, but Scotty immediately rolls out of the way, screams “Fuck Boston” and works straight on Zion’s right knee with a New York Crab. Zion crawls over towards the ropes. Hortega starts the count to 5 quickly before Scottywood breaks it up. Scottywood then lands a few stiff kicks straight towards Zion’s chest. Scottywood picks Darin Zion off of the mat and whips him into the corner and stiff clotheslines him into the chest. He picks Zion up again to do the move, but Zion quickly ducks under Scottywood’s arm. Scottywood attempts to gain control of the match, but Zion nails a hard pele kick into Scottywood’s head.
Scottywood rolls out of the ring to rest. Hortega counts while trying to fend of Zion who wants to leap straight over the top rope and take Scottywood out. Scottywood flips Zion off and requests a nearby fan to pour him a drink of beer. He chugs it before Zion loses his shit and rolls out of the ring. As Zion charges towards Scottywood, he picks up the pitcher of the fan’s beer and douses it straight in Zion’s face. Scottywood asks for another fans can of beer, chugs it and smashes the can across Zion’s face. He then grabs a piece of barbed wire, wraps it around his hands and hits Zion with the barbed wireline. Scottywood’s going ruthless on Zion. Hortega yells at both men to get back in the ring at the count of 5 and Scottywood rolls Zion back into the ring.
Zion struggles towards his feet and Scottywood immediately hits a Scotty Bomb on him. Scotty attempts the cover, but Zion kicks out. Scottywood dominates for a while before Zion catches him off guard with a crossbody attempt. Zion nails a few buzzsaw kicks straight to Scottywood’s face knock him down. Zion picks Scottywood up nailing a snap suplex on him. Without any thoughts crossing his mind, Zion hears the crowd and jumps towards the top turnbuckle. He waits for Scottywood to get back to his feet, but as he tries to hit the Top Rope Missile Dropkick, Scottywood leaps up and nails Zion square across the stomach with a drop kick of his own. Both men struggle back towards their feet while the crowd erupt. Zion and Scottywood both answer the count at 8, look up towards each other, scream “Mother Fucker” charging and nailing a flurry of punches and kicks. From out of nowhere, Zion barely connects a weak Flashpoint to Scottywood. He picks up Scottywood for the Detonation Kick, but Scottywood rolls Zion up for a fast count 2.9 count. Zion kicks out, gets back to his feet and tries rushing towards Scottywood, but Scottywood sends Zion flying into the turnbuckle shoulder first.
Scottywood punches Zion’s stomach for few moments before he starts to hear Hortega counting in the background:
Scottywood immediately throws his arms up for a few moments before noticing Zion climbing the turnbuckle. He jumps up towards the Turnbuckle, grabs Zion, then nails an elevated DDT on Zion. Scottywood crawls on top of Zion and lays his hand across his chest:
Zion kicks out much to Scottywood’s dismay. Scottywood pulls himself up on the turnbuckle and climbs. He attempts hits a Top Rope Clotheline with both men draped on the ground. Zion and Scottywood then struggle back towards their feet. Both men winded looking towards each other just nodding back at each other with respect. Both of their eyes light up and both charge towards each other again with Zion just nailing a spear on Scottywood. Zion starts punching at Scottywood, but Scottywood throws him off, trying to get back to his feet. Zion leaps up and hits a jumping leg drop across Scottywood’s sternum. Zion pulls Scottywood back to his knees. Zion rushes towards him to hit a shining wizard, but Scottywood ducks. Zion tries to mount more offensive measure, but Scottywood keeps fighting them off. Both men get back to their feet. As Zion charges towards Scottywood, Scottywood with all his might picks up Zion and plants him with a stiff Spinebuster. Zion reels in pain. Scottywood’s eyes light up and pure rage fills them. He lands a Spiked Evenflow DDT and signals for his finish. Hortega checks on Zion, but Scottywood pushes him out of the way. He picks Zion up and puts him straight in the Fireman’s Carry. He’s going to nail the Game Misconduct to finish the match.
But no! Zion forces his tired body back down towards his feet. He quickly kicks Scottywood with a lucky kick in the gut winding him. Zion quickly lifts Scottywood onto his shoulders and nails him with the Detonation Kick square across the jaw. Zion rushes to cover Scottywood:
Hortega rings the bell and lifts Zion’s hand in victory. Zion celebrates for a moment before he quickly goes to check on Scottywood. Scottywood gets back to his feet and both men look at each nodding before Scottywood flips Zion off and slides out of the ring with Zion celebrating as we fade back to backstage area.
Blair Moise is standing by backstage as Brian Hollywood walks out of his locker room prepared to head out for his match against John Sektor. Hollywood sees Moise, and simply stops and rolls his eyes as he seems to know what’s about to come next.
Blaire Moise: Mr. Hollywood, I don’t mean to bother you as I know you’ve got an important match coming up against John Sektor. I just wanted to know what were your thoughts before you step into the ring with John tonight?
Hollywood smirks a bit, as the look on his face seemingly explains it all.
Brian Hollywood: Why am I not surprised Blaire? There might have been a time where I was legitimately entertained to be interviewed by you, but now I have to ask, what happened to you?
Blaire seems confused by this as she tries to figure out what Hollywood is talking about.
Blaire Moise: What do you mean? I’ve always been—
Hollywood stops her in her tracks.
Brian Hollywood: You’ve always been what, Blaire?! Always been an interviewer? Always looking out for the best of HOW’s stars? Don’t make me sick, Blaire! You and I both know that HOW has been different since it came back and am I the only one around here who sees that? Am I the only one around here who sees right through everything and everyone? What exactly did I come back to Blaire? Hope and prosperity? We all know there’s a curveball everywhere you turn and everywhere you look here. In the last days of HOW and the refueled era of HOW since its been back, I’ve avoided that curveball. I’ve made my own curveball and used it as a mass destruction weapon to destroy everyone I’ve come in contact with around here. I get the big picture, Blaire, I think it’s time that you wake up and see it the way I do. Although, the only way that’s going to happen is if I go out there and defeat John Sektor tonight and move on to the HOW World Championship finals.
Blaire Moise: Well, you’re in the final four of the HOW World Championship Tournament and are only two winning matches away from becoming HOW World Champion again. What is that going to take to get to the finals and defeat Sektor tonight?
Hollywood nods his head but is in denial of Blaire’s own illumination of how she sees HOW. This seemingly puts Hollywood over the edge and only confirms what he’s long suspected as the growing frustration illuminates on his face.
Brian Hollywood: What’s it going to take?! Come on Blair, you KNOW what it’s going to take! I’ve said it from day one of HOW opening back its doors and I’m going to continue to say it. That HOW World Championship is MINE and I’m going to perceive it as such until there is evidence of the opposite contrary! John Sektor is a liar! Pure and simple and I see right through that bullshit. When I get back on top of the HOW mountain around here, I’m going to make sure things change the way I’ve always wanted them to change in my image. Sektor may be a legend, a hall of famer, but he’s a relic of the past. He’s LIVING in the past! He’s also a liar of preaching. Sektor only cares about Mike Best and I’m going to use that to my advantage tonight. The only thing Sektor is going to find is an executive promise that is going to make him realize the things he wants in HOW is not the things I want. He’s going to find that there is no way you’re bringing Mike Best out of retirement. He’s not going to use the HOW World Championship to do that! That is sacrilege to my championship! It is a false narrative around here in HOW and I’m going to make sure Sektor realizes the fates of his mistakes and it’s going to cost him BIG time tonight! He can go after Mike Best all he wants. I don’t give a fuck…but he’s not doing it with my HOW World Championship. Things are going to change around here when I become HOW World Champion again “officially” since people seem to not understand that I haven’t been beat for it yet. That change will continue tonight when I bring myself one step closer to the HOW World Championship Finals. One way or another, Blaire, things WILL fucking change around here!
Hollywood shakes his head in frustration and powers off down the hallway as he heads out in readiness of his match.
Joe Hoffman: Well, it has been promised for weeks and there’s no avoiding it any more. We are about to have ourselves an Iconic Celebration in Yuengling Center. Cecilworth…
Hoffman takes a distasteful gulp and continues.
Joe Hoffman: M! Farthington… a man who used to proudly wave the High Octane flag is now proclaiming himself as some form of OCW God Emperor.
Benny Newell: Normally I’d cheer on a fucker taking the shortcuts Farthington has but him and that fucking agent of his have been running the name of this company in the mud for MONTHS and now they’re going to come out here and gloat? Fucking hell, if I ever needed a drink to get me through the show, it’s now.
The lights in the Yuengling Center drop to a pitch black as an excited crowd begin a wave of murmured speculation. They don’t have to wait long though as a single spotlight lights up the centre of the ring. Standing dead even in the middle is clearly a man wearing a large bedsheet over himself. Some vaguely atmospheric spooky music plays over the PA system for a few moments as the be-sheeted man raises the microphone towards where his mouth hole should be. Just as he is about to make his first utterance, an awkward record scratching noise farts out of the speakers and the bed sheet is disposed of, revealing only a Dirk Dickwood underneath.
Dirk Dickwood: IT WAS ME YUENGLING, I WAS ME ALL ALONG. AHA! I WAS NEVER A GHOST! EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU WERE MADE DAMN FOOLS OF!
Joe Hoffman: Did anyone actually ever think Dirk Dickwood was a ghost?
Benny Newell: I’d prefer not to comment at this time.
There is a wide reveberating wall of boos bouncing off the walls of the Yuengling Center, likely not due to the ghost thing but more because the very detestable lead HOW-shitter, Dirk Dickwood stands pride of place in the middle of the ring… maybe some of it is the ghost thing. Who can say? Not I, not I. Dickwood looks as proud as a particularly prideful peacock and a mile wide smile cracks about the usually furious expression of the self-proclaimed “Superagent.”
Dirk Dickwood: Ladies, gentlemen and everything in the spectrum in between, I’m sure it’s very upsetting that your High Octane heroes are not standing in this very ring right now. Perhaps you would have liked to party with a Scorpion or contract some form of horrific skin disease from a hobo. Ya don’t get that though. Oh no, you get something MUCH better. Ya see all your pathetic HOW-stans, they all fell to MAH BOY, the beautiful boy, the best boy, the OCW Megastar, the High Octane Destroy-ah… they thought they were going to defend the honour of this shitty deathmatch company and they ALL FAILED.
It would be fair to say at this point the level of booing was now close to “literal Hitler” levels. Dickwood pays absolutely no mind to this, almost basking in it.
Dirk Dickwood: So it is with IMMENSE pride I stand here and introduce to you YOUR OCW Icon… your better… THE ONLY CHAMPION IN THIS TIRE FIRE OF A COMPANY… CECILWORTH! M! FARTHINGTON!
The arena lights up once more as “Money” by The Flying Lizards begins battering saucepan noises towards the crowd. Some of the crowd actually begins to perk up at the sound of Cecilworth’s theme. Most likely the Key West visiting section near the back. The song plays out for a little while without much happening apart from a spotlight shining at the entrance way.
Benny Newell: OCW Icon? This is a fucking travesty. That belt is historic! It should be treated with dignity.
Joe Hoffman: Since his loss to John Sektor, particularly with an irate Dirk Dickwood in his ear, Cecilworth Farthington has turned his back on the company that made him into a star and this is just one more insult to the pile.
Confetti begins to gently fall from atop the Cecilworth as “Money” continues to confuse and astound the Yuenglingers. There is a large roar from the stage as the Icon Champion makes his first appearance since winning the title on HOW television but he isn’t exactly making his way to the ring alone.
Joe Hoffman: Is that…
Benny Newell: IT’S DURANGO! CECILWORTH FARTHINGTON IS RIDING DURANGO TO THE RING! FUCK THIS EARTH!
As the drunk attests to, CMF (it’s what the cool kids call him these days) is straddled atop the shoulders of Durango – a man last seen in HOW murdering many of the EPU and being by the side of Michael Lee Best. Over in OCW, the two eMpire brothers struck a mutual fathership clause to Durango and here we are… with Cecilworth riding him to the ring. The confetti continues to rain down as Durango begins his walk to the ring, Cecilworth holding the title high in the sky with both arms. Dirk Dickwood is gleefully applauding his charge in the ring. The camera zooms in close on the ICON Championship and Farthington’s masking tape modification is seen for the first time. He’s slapped the tape over the “High Octane Wrestling” section of the belt and wrote “OCW” instead in crude marker pen.
Joe Hoffman: And now he’s defaced the belt! This has gone too far.
Benny Newell: I’ll be surprised if that fucker makes it out of the Yuengling Center alive tonight.
Joe Hoffman: I think that may be the exact reason he has a Durango by his side now.
CMF regally waves to his subjects all the way down the ring. Many of the irate near the front rows attempt to ball up the confetti and hurl it towards the OCW Megastars smug noggin but this doesn’t deter the festive atmosphere. Durango reaches the ring and drops Cecilworth off at the apron. Dirk Dickwood rushes in to hold the ropes open for his client and hands off the microphone to Farthington as he takes his place in the middle of the ring. Dirk pulls out a party popper and… well… pops it as Cecilworth lifts the microphone to his lips.
Cecilworth Farthington: You know…
CMF chuckles to himself as he’s drowned out by a fired up arena. Dickwood gives him a reassuring shoulder massage.
Cecilworth Farthington: Bunch’a poors say boo.
Dirk Dickwood makes some hand signals to the back, indicating they should boost Cecilworth’s microphone volume. They do just enough for him to start drowning out the crowd.
Cecilworth Farthington: I totes stand here today as a man better than any other in this silly little place that still pretends to be a real boy company. Lee Best is a failed Geppetto, I’ll tell you that much fo’ sho BABY.
Dickwood leans into the microphone.
Dirk Dickwood: SHOW YOUR GOD DAMN ICON SOME RESPECT! He’s the only champion this little shit show has! It’d be a shame if they were to lose him and this belt… AGAIN!
There is a very loud and clear “FUCK YOU, YOU DICK” heard, it is unclear however if this comes from backstage or the fans in the arena.
Cecilworth Farthington: Two… three… however many weeks ago, I stood in this very ring and tossed all of HOW’s best out of the ring. Hall of Famers, World Champion, Pointless Hobos… they all stepped up to the Heir BNB and they all done fell down!
Joe Hoffman: That’s a ridiculous retelling of the Battle Royal. Farthington didn’t even get into the ring until the very last minute!
Benny Newell: Normally I’d say that’s smart but I’m disgusted right about now.
Cecilworth flicks a little bit of confetti out of his pristine hair and continues on.
Cecilworth Farthington: The right man won, which is me. I’m the right man! I’ll fight for the rights of every man… well no, that’s a lie, none of you are worth my time and effort. Still, what I’d like everyone to do right now is be upstanding and praise your BEAUTIFUL OCW Icon… ME! Cecilworth M! Farthington. Come up, get those short, stubby, disgusting, filthy little legs on the ground and arise for the Megastar. The most deserving ICON Champion of all time. The longest reigning ICON champion of all time! COME ON! GET ON UP! FOR MEEEEE!
Cecilworth stares up to the sky, beaming proudly as a tsunami of rage is hurled in his direction. He doesn’t seem to pay it any particular mind as Dickwood yanks to microphone out of his client’s hand, enraged by the reaction.
Dirk Dickwood: Of course you fuckwits wouldn’t praise the golden god that stands before you. You still buy shitting tickets for this disgrace of a company. You know this shithole, this cesspit of murderers, rapists and homophobes, it should have stayed the fuck down. It should never have been risen but since it has… me and MAH BOY, we’re going ensure we burn this shit to the ground.
A milkshake is hurled toward the ring but Durango bats it down before it can hit either Farthington or Dickwood.
Dirk Dickwood: All these pathetic sad sacks like Hollywood, Zion, Stevens, O’Dell… they all came back to Papa Lee like pathetic dogs going back to their abusive owner. LIKE DOGS. SAD!
Joe Hoffman: I’d call that loyalty to the company that made them stars!
Dirk Dickwood: It made me sick to my stomach to watch those strays and waifs beg him for the last of the scraps off the corpse of a long dead body. They have deluded themselves into believing their bowls haven’t been empty for months. The only man brave enough to stand up for what’s right, to do the moral thing and say FUCK THIS COMPANY, he is YOUR only champion. That’s so fucking fitting is it not? The only champion in this ramshackle shit show wants it to die a painful death by his own hands.
One particularly irate fan tries to leap over the barrier but is successfully restrained by security. Cecilworth gives a lil sarcastic wave goodbye as the fan is hauled away. None of this seems to deter the former ghost turned man Dirk Dickwood.
Dirk Dickwood: You can’t blame the Sad Deathmatch Boys, they just don’t know how to spot a better life, they’ve been beaten and abused so much, it’s all they know, at this point it’s a comfort for them. I suppose we can’t blame C-Money’s BFF Mike either. He’s got that whole daddy issue thing going on but… Eric Dane, Dan Ryan, Lindsay Troy, did they really take a look up and down One Eyed Willy and every shitty thing he’s ever done and really think he was a devil they wanted to deal with? Those three… they disappoint me. They know good wrestling, they know good companies, they know they’re better than the fucking Murderpalooza 2019 that goes on around here and yet, here we are.
“Oh yes…here we are indeed.”
”Watch Me” – The Phantoms
The opening clap-stomp beats of Lindsay Troy’s entrance music hit the speakers and the High Octane fans are more than thankful for the interruption, responding in kind with an eruption of cheers. After a moment or two, the Queen of the Ring saunters out onto the stage, microphone in hand, smirk on her face.
Benny Newell: Thank fucking God, a momentary reprieve from Dirk and Cecilworth’s bullshit.
Joe Hoffman: Lindsay Troy may have lost her HOW World Title Tournament Elite Eight matchup on Refueled II to Brian Hollywood, but what was curious was her interaction that night with Eric Dane and Dan Ryan. There’s obviously no love lost between her and the Only Star. Something’s amiss, Benny.
Benny Newell: Yeah, well, at this point, Hoffhole, I don’t care what it is. If she’s here to shut down this shit parade, she can throw in with whomever she wants.
“Watch Me” cuts out and Troy lifts the mic to her mouth.
Lindsay Troy: Dirk! Hello there, so nice to meet your corporeal acquaintance. And so nice to see Cecilworth with a belt, not a briefcase, and in a ring, not in a cave.
Cecilworth yells something about never finding out who L. Bruises truly was and demanding the safe return of his briefcase.
Dirk Dickwood: I don’t know what any of that is. Cecilworth, what is this devil banshee bleating about?
Cecilworth Farthington: It was a very traumatic time, I’d rather not talk about it!
Lindsay Troy: That’s all well and good. Let’s talk about the here and now, and how you can’t keep my name out of your mouth, Dirk, and how High Octane isn’t y’all’s jam, as the kids say. And if all of this is true, then why the fuck are you even here?
Joe Hoffman: Hard to argue the point.
Dirk Dickwood: My dear Ms. Troy… it may not be our jam but you’re looking at the only fucking champion this dire shithole has right now. We’re here because it burns that fucking satan in the off-the-rack red sports coat backstage up something FIERCE to see his precious title around that the waist of a “betrayer” once more.
Lindsay Troy: About that, Dirk. I think my compatriots might have a little something to say about that “betrayer” and his belt, and maybe something else about how it isn’t gonna be around his waist for very much longer.
Dirk Dickwood: Come again?
As if on cue…..
“Zero” by the Smashing Pumpkins
Most of the crowd knows what this means. Some don’t. They’re about to learn.
A few seconds into the riff, out walks Dan Ryan, all six-foot-seven inches and three hundred five pounds of him. He hides any hints of expression in his eyes behind dark sunglasses and keeps a rather stoic look on his face, but carries a microphone at his side. Eric Dane is alongside him, smirking his way out to the stage as well.
The music stops, and Lindsay Troy gives a little courtesy hand wave as if to say “the floor is yours.”
Dan Ryan: (suddenly smiling and pointing to the ring) Well if it isn’t Dirk Dickwood and Cecilworth Farthington. Gentlemen, it has been a very long time.
Ryan starts forward, leading the trio down the ramp toward the ring.
Dan Ryan: This is quite the fortuitous situation we find ourselves in, gentlemen. See, what many of these people don’t realize is… I used to sign your paychecks… right? You remember? Of course you remember….
It isn’t a very long walk to the ring, so in quick order, they reach it — and the three of them circle the ring until each takes up a strategic spot, then they climb in and essentially surround Farthington and Dickwood, while Durango couldn’t care less about any of this.
Dan Ryan: Now I was backstage just now listening to you go on and on there Cecilworth. It brought back so many memories. Some of those memories were good ones. I remember how entertaining you always were back when you were my employee. I set you loose on my tag team champions and it was all such a good time. It really was.
Ryan paces back and forth a bit in front of Dickwood and Farthington, who is now on his own two feet. Farthington still has that goofy smile on his face. Dickwood doesn’t care for this much.
Dan Ryan: First thing’s first… Durango?
Durango looks at Ryan with that blank Durango expression.
Dan Ryan: I was just on the phone with Mike Best in the back…
Durango perks up a bit.
Dan Ryan: You don’t have to be out here anymore. You can go home.
Joe Hoffman: Did the man Cecilworth always proclaims to be his best friend just sign his own death warrant?
Benny Newell: We’ve been long overdue an in-ring murder, Hoffhole! I can’t think of a better time than now.
Durango shrugs and immediately goes to leave the ring without question, and Farthington starts to freak out, grabbing him by the shoulder and begging him to stay.
Durango, for his part, shrugs and mouths the words “He said I can go”…. And just leaves.
Ryan, Troy and Dane watch as the big man leaves the ring and heads back up the ramp without a word. Dickwood audibly says “son of a bitch” and Farthington stands in the ring with his mouth agape.
Troy and Dane look back at the two men as Ryan’s gaze lingers a little longer on Durango. Finally, he turns as well, and he smirks down at Cecilworth Farthington.
Dan Ryan: Now then… like I said, you do like to talk, and you are entertaining, but I think we’ve all had about enough of that. So I came out here to tell you. Then after I came out to tell you, I started walking down to the ring and only then did I realize how punchable your face is.
Benny Newell: Fucking finally! I’ve been waiting for someone is doing something about this spoiled brat.
Joe Hoffman: I think this party may be about to turn into a funeral.
Ryan walks forward slowly, putting a hand on Dirk Dickwood’s shoulder and looking down at him.
Dan Ryan: Dirk, this isn’t personal, and really has nothing to do with you. I’ve always found you eminently reasonable and you were always a good employee. It’s just that…. (Ryan shrugs a bit and gives a “what can I do?” expression) ….I haven’t punched anyone in the face in over a week, and I’m antsy. You know how it is.
Dickwood starts to protest but, too quickly for anyone to stop it, Dan Ryan turns and pops Cecilworth Farthington right in the face. Farthington turns with the impact and flies to the ground like Glass Joe after a Little Mac super punch.
Dirk Dickwood’s jaw drops in shock as he stares at Cecilworth, then turns back to Ryan, his eyes wide.
Dan Ryan winks and gestures with his head for Dirk to hit the bricks. He thinks about it for a second, then drops to the mat and rolls out, terrified.
Eric Dane eyes the ICON belt, now on the mat beside an unconscious Cecilworth Farthington. Dane picks it up and wraps it around his own waist, checking the size. Troy quirks an eyebrow, just taking everything in. Ryan steps over and puts a finger on the belt, pulling it back slightly and mouthing the words “a little tight.”
Dane takes the belt back off and roughly slaps it back down across Farthington, then smiles and shakes his head in disappointment.
Joe Hoffman: In this war of attrition between Farthington and HOW, it seems like the management has some incredibly powerful backup.
Benny Newell: I can’t believe Eric fucking Dane is the hero we need in these dark times. This new era is terrifying.
Joe Hoffman: This is it, folks– the winner of this next tournament match will go on to the final for the HOW World Championship. It’s been a long road, made even longer by the weeks off between matches for these competitors. It’s a different mental game, and John Sektor is coming off a particularly hard win heading into this match.
Benny Newell: A hard win? What the fuck is a hard WIN? You’re just making shit up at this point, Hoffman.
Joe Hoffman: John Sektor put his career on the line against fellow Hall of Famer Mike Best, Benny, and he expected a classic– instead, what he got was pure disrespect. Michael Best forced a disqualification, ended his own career, and deprived John Sektor of closure. If he can’t focus on this match tonight, we may see Brian Hollywood advance to the final.
Benny Newell: Oh my God. The darkest timeline. I AM SORRY ABOUT YOUR HARD WIN, JOHN, FUCKING GET ‘EM!
Brian Hollywood is already in the ring, awaiting his opponent, as “Comfortably Numb” by Pink Floyd begins to play over the speakers. John Sektor walks out from behind the curtain, looking pissed off and ready to fight on his way down to the ring. Sektor is definitely showing signs of getting back into shape, and some of the cut is already back on him.
Referee Joel Hortega rings the bell and this contest is officially underway.
DING DING DING
Both men are off to the center of the ring to start the bout, and immediately into an elbow collar tie-up. Hollywood lets up and tags Sektor with a hard right hand and Sektor is staggered. Hollywood follows up and hits another right away. And another. Right hands rain down as Sektor is backed into the ropes by his opponent! Hollywood grabs the right arm, whipping Sektor into the turnbuckle and charging forward with a ham-fisted clothesline attempt– Sektor ducks out of the way, leaving Hollywood to slam full force into the pads and stumble backward.
Sektor follows up with a dropkick, taking his opponent to the canvas and standing over him, showboating. Sektor screams at Brian, yelling at him to get up and pantomiming the title around his waist.
Joe Hoffman: Some showboating from John Sektor. Many matches have been lost in HOW due to hubris, and when you’re a former champ like Brian Hollywood, the last thing you want to do is take time to brag.
Benny Newell: When you’re facing Hollywood, the last thing you want to do is stay awake. Mr. Fucking Personality, folks. I’m surprised this match didn’t take place in the living room of his fuckin’ mansion.
Hollywood rolls onto his side, pushing himself quickly toward his feet, but Sektor gives him a hard kick to the ribs that sends him rolling toward the middle of the ring. He grabs Brian’s legs into position for a Boston crab, and the crowd begins yelling for Hollywood to escape as Sektor struggles to turn the hold over and lock it in.
Brian pulls his legs to his chest, pushing off and sending Sektor back into the ropes. He rebounds, but Hollywood rolls out of the way on the return and gets back to his feet, spinning in a circle and laying Sektor flat with a brutal discus punch that brings both men to the canvas! Hollywood throws an arm over Sektor, hoping for a quick victory.
Joe Hoffman: Not quite enough.
Benny Newell: Not quite? Sektor’s shoulders never even went fucking down, idiot. Shouldn’t have even been a one count. You’re all disqualified.
Sektor’s shoulder is up relatively fast, and he rolls away to safety. Hollywood scrambles to his feet, charging the ropes to catch his opponent, but Sektor pulls down the rope in an effort to send Brian over the top to the concrete! Hollywood flies over the top, but catches the ropes and keeps himself on the apron. He struggles to rebalance, but he turns just in time to be hooked under the arms by John Sektor and thrown back into the ring with a belly-to-belly suplex!
Sektor slams his hands on the mat and climbs back up, as Hollywood struggles to get back to his feet. John gives him a boot in the stomach, grabbing him in a double underhook and trying to lift him up for the C-Sektion! Hollywood plants his feet and keeps Sektor from lifting him, instead reversing the maneuver and pulling Sektor up into a fast back body drop! John Sektor hits the mat, holding his back as Brian Hollywood stomps around the ring, looking to pick up some momentum.
Sektor begins to stand up, and Hollywood wastes no time in hammering him on the back and in the back of the head with closed hands. Sektor powers through the blows, nailing a quick and effective shot to the groin and ending Hollywood’s offense there on the spot! The crowd boos, but Sektor charges into the ropes and rebounds with a big superkick!
But Hollywood ducks!
Joe Hoffman: Something is brewing here…
Benny Newell: SHIT.
Sektor spins around from the momentum of the kick, and the crowd explodes as he grabs the back of Sektor’s head and attempted to land the Executive Promise!!!
BUT SEKTOR REVERSES INTO A CUTTER OUT OF NOWHERE!
Joe Hoffman: WHOA! What a counter!
Benny Newell: That’s our fucking next World Champ, Joe! FUCK YEAH, SEKTOR!
The crowd’s happiness is ended immediately as Hollywood’s face slams into the mat, nearly knocking him out cold from the sudden and terrifying impact. Sektor snarls, grabbing Hollywood and attempting to wrench his body into an STF, modifying it into a Dragon sleeper
Joe Hoffman: The Sektor Stretch! SEKTOR STRETCH! Can he get it locked in!?
Benny Newell: What a stupid question. Let me ask the bottom of this bottle, in celebration.
BUT HOLLYWOOD ESCAPES!
Rolling to the side, Hollywood trips Sektor up at the legs, rolling him up from behind and putting the pressure onto a pin! The crowd can’t fucking believe it!!!
DING DING DING
The bell rings as Brian Hollywood pops up off the canvas, throwing his arms into the air. He seemingly can’t believe it, and neither can John Sektor, who snarls in revulsion as he stares up at the man who just beat him with a flash roll up!
Bryan McVay: Here is your winner, BRIIIIIAN…. HOLLLLLYWOOOOOOOD!!!
The crowd stands as the shock pinfall sends Hollywood into the Championship match against the winner of the Main Event match tonight…..but first we cut backstage
Next up, Halitosis sitting alone in his dressing room.
A piece of poster board is leaning up against the bench next to him. He also has a metal container sitting on the other side.
Halitosis: You know, the show being postponed one week turned out to be a blessing in disguise. I’ll admit. I was more than a little nervous about tonight’s match against Max Kael. This is my fourth HOW match and this is obviously the biggest match of my career. The atmosphere is going to be a lot different inside the Yuengling Center tonight- it’s going to be electric. Especially wrestling with a world title shot hanging in the balance. But the extra week of preparation for the match brought some clarity of thought and I now have a better handle on what I need to do here tonight.
A wry smile creeps onto Halitosis’s face.
Halitosis: Max is going to be tough. I know when he’s switched on, when he’s at his diabolical best and at his most ruthless inside the ring, he’s going to be damn well impossible to beat. But the ultimate goal is the same- for everyone. Winning the tournament. Winning the title. And to do that, I have find a way to defeat Max Kael tonight. How do I do it?
Halitosis: By doing the same thing I’ve been doing throughout the tournament. Follow the game plan. Wrestle smart. Keep fighting. And when the opportunity presents itself, make sure I’m there to take full advantage of it. What happened in the Scottywood match? I was down and out midway through. I had to crawl back to the ring and beat the ten count. Scottywood let me get too close and then…
Halitosis holds up a metal container with his obnoxiously noxious drink inside that he’d just used a blender to mix a few minutes before.
Green wisps of vapors escape through the lid.
Halitosis: …I used my breath and turned the match in my favor. Will Max make the same mistake? I guess we’ll find out in a few minutes. I do know this much. Max isn’t going to get a free pass into the finals. I’m not just going to lie down and let him pin me. If I do my job here tonight correctly, Max is going to have to work real hard to get the win here tonight. But all it’s going to take is one mistake. One mistake is all I need tonight.
He opens the container and gulps down the awful concoction.
Halitosis bends down and picks up the cue-card.
Halitosis: One mistake could be the difference between winning and advancing or losing.
He turns the card around. It says: “Victory is only a breath away.”
Joe Hoffman: Well, we’re ready for the main event tonight!
Benny Newell: Like hell I am.
Joe Hoffman: Wait! What are you doing?
Benny begins to put on a yellow hazmat suit. Once zipped up, he slips a gas mask on and shoots the camera a thumbs up.
Benny Newell: Ohmreay. (I’m ready, but garbled)
Joe Hoffman: Great.
Halitosis makes his way down the ramp. As he opens his mouth to cheer, a few fans faint in the front row. After he makes his way to the ring, Max Kael makes his way out. He sees the fainted fans and rifles through their pockets, picking out some of the loose money before shoving it into his pocket.
Max then climbs into the ring, Halitosis is still on the turnbuckle taunting the crowd. Before introductions can begin, Max charges and clubs Halitosis over the turnbuckle. Halitosis falls outside of the ring hard.
Max smiles as he goes outside the ring, picking Halitosis up and whipping him into the ring post. Halitosis hits the post shoulder first and crumples down. Max looks at the ref who is barking for him to get into the ring.
Max obliges on his own time, soaking in the boos that are raining down from the crowd. Max begins to demand that the referee declare this a forfeit as the ref repeatedly shakes his head no.
Halitosis finally stirs as an arm drapes on to the edge of the ring. He looks pissed as he pulls himself in. Max looks just as pissed as the referee checks to make sure Halitosis is okay. Halitosis nods and the referee finally calls for the bell.
Max moves in and Halitosis swings wildly with his other arm. Max easily ducks behind and hits a chop block to Halitosis’ leg.
Joe Hoffman: This isn’t even a match.
Benny Newell: shreantitsdistin (It sure ain’t! It’s a dissection!)
Joe Hoffman: Will you take that off? No one can understand you?
Benny Newell shrugs and points at his ear, acting as if he can’t hear Hoffman.
Max stomps on the back of Halitosis’ leg and then his knee. Halitosis tries rolling out of the ring but Max continues to stomp as he moves. As Halitosis gets to the ropes, the referee moves to push Max back.
Halitosis grabs his leg and holds the back of it. He uses the ropes to struggle to his feet. Kael shoves the ref aside and moves in, but Halitosis connects with a left hook, stunning Max. Max moves in again and Halitosis swings, Max ducks again but Halitosis hits a quick back kick, connecting with Max’s gut. Halitosis shakes his arm and leg, trying to get feeling back into them.
He grabs Max in a headlock, bounces off the ropes for a bulldog but Max pushes Halitosis off. He lands hard with a thud and grabs his lower back. Max goes over, extends his middle knuckle for the crowd to see and begins digging it into the soft area between the spine and the muscle. He grinds his finger in as Halitosis flails. Max then casually slaps Halitosis on the back of the head. Halitosis rolls away trying to regroup.
As Max follows, he goes to pick Halitosis up but Halitosis creates a small package.
Furious, Max stomps away at Halitosis’ leg again. Max then begins to untie the boot of Halitosis. The referee admonishes Max until Max finally strips the boot off, exposing Halitosis’ foot.
Benny Newell: Stillnahasssmllasbref (Still not as smelly as his breath)
Joe Hoffman begins trying to wrestle Benny’s mask off his face.
Max then stomps away on Halitosis’ toes.
Joe Hoffman finally wrestles the mask away and throws it in to the crowd.
Joe Hoffman: Finally! (SIGH) Some severe damage to Halitosis’ feet and legs by Max Kael! Grounding him will surely play to Max’s advantage.
Satisfied with his handiwork, Max goes for a cover, pressing down hard on the bad shoulder.
Max quickly grabs Halitosis and pulls him up. Max pulls the mask of Halitosis over his eyes and begins delivering body shots to the ribs. Halitosis absorbs the blows before falling down in a slump. Max covers again.
Halitosis rotates Max into a sleeper. Max begins flailing and rolls with Halitosis towards the ropes. The referee taps Halitosis who lets go. While Max clings to the ropes, Halitosis fixes his mask. He backs himself into the corner and uses the turnbuckle to help hold him upright.
Max gets back up and looks at Halitosis. Halitosis, breathing heavy, motions for Max to come get him. Max, furious, charges and goes to drive the shoulder. Halitosis moves at the last second and Max drives his shoulder into the post.
Halitosis goes for a cover.
Max kicks out. Halitosis quickly gets on top of Max and uses his bad arm to hold Max’s head. He wails away with punches on Max’s head. He then backs off towards the ropes. Max gets to his feet and charges again. Halitosis ducks through the ropes and hits a forearm. With Max staggered, Halitosis hits a slingshot shoulder tackle. Max goes down. Halitosis, hearing the cheers of the crowd, ducks back out on the ropes and delivers a slingshot drop kick across Max’s throat. He then follows up with a basement dropkick right to Max’s head. Max looks out of it and Halitosis covers.
Halitosis grabs his leg in pain.
Joe Hoffman: That adrenaline only hides the pain for so long.
Benny Newell: I wish the adrenaline would kick in for my fucking nose!
Joe Hoffman: But listen to this crowd, willing Halitosis on!
The crowd roar and Halitosis shakes his fist, drawing power from the crowd.
He gets up and again shakes his leg. He opens and closes his hand rapidly, feeling the pain from his shoulder subside.
Halitosis backs to a turnbuckle and motions for Max to get up. Max staggers and turns towards Halitosis. Halitosis charges forward and jumps for a high impact DDT. But as he leaps in the air, Max grabs his arm and pushes him away. Halitosis lands on his feet. Max pulls Halitosis towards him and goes for The Gaslighter but Halitosis ducks underneath. As Max turns, Halitosis uses the Lethal Breath Of Death.
Like he just got sucker punched, Max falls backwards.
The crowd jump to their feet and their roars grow louder as Halitosis ascends the turnbuckle. He motions for his finisher. Halitosis leaps and goes for a high angle senton.
As Halitosis hits it, Max wraps his arms and legs around Halitosis in a crucifix pin and pins.
Halitosis rotates and shifts his weight, reversing the pin on Max.
DING DING DING!
Brian McVay: HERE IS YOUR WINNER…………………… HALITOOOOOOOSISSSSSS!
Joe Hoffman: I DON’T BELIEVE IT! I DON’T BELIEVE IT! CALL IT THE UPSET OF THE ENTIRE TOURNAMENT!
Benny Newell: WHA—–HOW? THERE SHOULDA BEEN A DQ WITH HIS BREATH!
Joe Hoffman: Halitosis has done what many thought impossible!
The referee holds up Halitosis’ arm as Max looks on in disbelief.
We look at the replay and see that the referee did count to three after Halitosis’ reversal.
Joe Hoffman: What an amazing match!
Benny Newell begins spraying Lysol all over, getting some in his mouth and eyes.
Benny Newell: OH GOD IT BURNS! CLEANSE ME LEMON SCENTED LYSOL!
Joe Hoffman: Halitosis moves on in the tournament to face Brian Hollywood for the World Championship and you have to believe Max Kael will be looking at how this happened.
The feed slowly fades to black and is replaced with a final image for tonight’s show…..