Rumble at the Rock

Rumble at the Rock is officially begins, but it appears we’re headed right for the action as, “This Means War” begins to play in the general population area of the prison and the HOV lights up with the words “Steve Solex.” Just as the song takes off, Steve Solex – outfitted in what looks like a mercenary uniform – begins to make his way out to the ring. The fans in gen-pop boo like crazy, shaking their cell doors and being overly belligerent. Solex stops midway to the ring and holds with arms out to his sides, and leans his head back with his eyes closed. He stands still for what feels like an eternity and soaks in the love from the fans before he hops up onto the ring apron and enters the ring through the second rope.

Joe Hoffman: Folks, welcome to HOW Rumble at the Rock… normally we’d have a whole rundown of the show for you here tonight, but it would appear that Steve Solex is making an unscheduled appearance to begin tonight’s show. What’s he doing out here?

Benny Newell: These people love Steve Solex! What a way to start Rumble at the Rock!

Solex walks to the opposite end of the ring and asks a member of the production crew for a microphone. Solex is already sweating and breathing heavy, and appears to be heavier by at least ten pounds of veiny muscle. The crew member obliges and hands him a microphone. The music fades, but the boos from the crowd remain. Solex plays his hands like the conductor of the Steve Solex Hate Orchestra. He brings the mic up to speak, and most…but not all fans, simmer down.

Steve Solex: Welcome to The Rock!

The audience cheers, but only momentarily as the reaction shifts to boos.

Steve Solex: I’m out for one reason, and one reason only. Lee Best has allowed me to book a match, and this match is open to anybody in the back. But the reason I have this microphone is so that I can call out one guy. One fucking person. I’m here to call out that guy you all love so very much. My former tag team partner. My former drinking buddy…(Steve lowers his voice as a look of anger appears on his face) and the former, HOW Tag Team Champion. Joe “I’m Ordinary, which basically means I’m basic” Bergman.

The crowd boos as Solex drops the mic to the canvas. There’s nothing…until “This Town” by Michael Stanley Band begins to play in the prison. The crowd in attendance goes ballistic as Ordinary Joe’s theme music continues to play. The crowd pops once more as Joe’s daughter Barbie Q makes her way out toward the ring with a microphone in hand. She stops short of the ring of course as Solex shouts out to her in fit, and the music fades out.

Steve Solex: (shouting) I said Joe Bergman! You’re fucking dad! I already took care of your sorry ass!

Joe Hoffman: Solex is irate!

Benny Newell: He fucking should be, he’s been interrupted by someone he already fucking murdered.

Barbie Q: Oh, Steven. I’m not here to get in the ring, and I’m not here for my dad.

Steve Solex: (shouting) Then what the fuck are you doing here?

Barbie Q: I’m here to introduce you to someone, who is here for my dad. Someone who is here to get payback on you for what you did to me. Someone who believes in equal rights. And someone who has accomplished more in HOW than you ever will.

Steve Solex: (shouting) Who the fuck is it? Huh?!

Barbie Q: She’s a former LSD Champion, and friend of mine and more importantly, she’s a friend of my fathers!

Joe Hoffman: Who could it be?

Benny Newell: Who fucking cares?

Barbie Q: It’s Dawn McGill!

The crowd pop is insane and the look on Solex’s face is priceless.

Joe Hoffman: She’s in the ring! The former LSD Champion is here!

Benny Newell: Fuck.

Unbeknownst to Solex, Dawn McGill had entered the ring behind him. She grabs him by the shoulder and turns him around. She lands a couple of punches and pushes Solex in to the ropes. The crowd has completely lost their shit and the rattle of the cell doors is deafening. McGill attempts to throw Solex off the ropes, but Solex reverses the whip….McGill, however, is able to reverse the reversal and throw Solex into the ropes. McGill goes for a clothesline, but Solex ducks under and hits the ropes again, but this time Solex flies in with a shoulder block.

Benny Newell: Oh shit! By Gosh!

A referee slides into the ring.

Joe Hoffman: I’ve never seen that referee before!

Solex hits the ropes again, and knocks McGill flat again with another flying shoulder block.

Benny Newell: By Golly!

Solex hits the ropes one last time before he absolutely flattens McGill with…

Benny Newell: THE CLOTHESLINE FROM HECK! I LOVE IT!

Joe Hoffman: Dawn McGill, a former LSD Champion has just taken The Clothesline from Heck! She is out!

Solex makes the cover with a boot on McGill’s chest. He points out to Barbie Q, who’s jaw has completely dropped.

Steve Solex: (shouting) Equal rights, bitch!

1!

…

2!

…

3!

The referee calls for the bell.

DING! DING! DING!

Joe Hoffman: This one is over, Solex has completely destroyed this former LSD Champion, Benny!

Benny Newell: She’s just a former LSD Champ, Hoffhole. Dawn McGill once mopped the fucking floor with our World Champion, Mike Best!

Steve Solex: (still pointing at Barbie Q) What happens next, is your fault! Not mine!

Solex reaches down and grabs a fistful of McGills hair. He drags her lifeless body to the edge of the ring, and pushes her out with his boot. Barbie Q cautiously backs up and out of the way as Solex exits the ring, picks up McGill and tosses her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. The cellmates – or fans if you will – go bonkers as Solex carries McGill up to the second floor. He walks across the cell block until he arrives to an empty cell. The camera zooms in, the cell number has become apparent.

Joe Hoffman: Cell 214.

Benny Newell: Solex is a mad scientist!

Solex drops McGill to the floor and rolls her into the cell. Solex goes to shut the cell door, but it flies back open and hits him right in the face. He stumbles a few steps backward as McGill lunges toward him.

Joe Hoffman: McGill’s not out of this one yet!

The two exchange punches, but suddenly Solex pokes McGill right in the eye. She immediately drops to a knee and is clearly in agony as she shouts out. Solex grabs her by the hair and slams her head first into the concrete wall. McGill falls to a knee again. Solex drags her over to the cell door, and instead of throwing her inside…he first smashes her head in the steel door, and then unceremoniously shoves her to the ground inside the cell. Solex pulls a skeleton key from his pocket, shuts the gate and locks it closed.

Joe Hoffman: And he locked her in cell 214.

Solex points down at Barbie Q and taunts the raucous crowd from the second floor platform as “This Means War” by Avenged Sevenfold begins to play.

The shot transitions to the commentary booth away from the action.

Joe Hoffman: Unbelievable. Steve Solex is just…I don’t have words.

Benny Newell: He’s left you speechless, Hoffhole! Here, drink this (tries to hand him a bottle of Jack Daniels, which Hoffman quickly declines)

Joe Hoffman: Folks, our apologies. Rumble at the Rock is never for the faint of heart. At this time, we’re about to begin our now… second… match of the evening, right after this commercial break.

Joe Hoffman: Here we go, folks! What was originally scheduled to be our opening match of the evening is upon us, and to my mind, this still IS the opening match. What a disgusting display from Steven Solex. So to kick off this HISTORIC Rumble at the Rock, we’re live in General Population, and as you can see, our controversial guest referee, Doozer, is already in the ring.

Benny Newell: The only thing that could’ve made this card better, if you ask me Joe, was if this match was to the death, too!

Joe Hoffman: And why’s that, exactly?

Benny Newell: Don’t be a dumbass, Hoffhole. Harrison’s coming in undefeated after seven matches and CAN’T-cer hasn’t won since he took the LSD Championship from Cecilworth almost THREE months ago! He’d be DEE-EEE-DEE, DEAD! DRINK!!!

Joe Hoffman: There was one thing I could argue there, but not going to even try…

The lights dim. A chilling air fills the open GenPop area turned makeshift arena and surrounding cells, all filled with the loyal High Octane following… then a long howl shoots the hair up on the back of your neck.

“I am the COOL” explodes over the speakers.

~I’m the one your mama warned you about

~When you see me, I will leave you no doubt

Well before his usual delayed entrance, even better the opening lyrics can finish, out trudges Cancer Jiles.

~I’m the coolest man that ever walked this earth

~I’ve been the coolest since the day of my birth

~I AM THE COOL.

Bryan McVay: This match is ONE FALL, and for Number One Contendership to the LSD Championship. Introducing first, from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania… weighing in at 229 pounds… Cancer Jiles!

The sad sight once full of flair never takes his eyes off his boots as he makes his way to the ring and eventually rolls in with as little effort as possible. As soon as he stands he returns his focus to his feet, avoiding any possible eye contact with The Dooze who’s also acting as if Jiles isn’t there.

Benny Newell: Lee, for the love of YOU, if you can hear me… MAKE THIS A DEATH MATCH!

Joe Hoffman: I guess it would put him out of his misery…

Benny Newell: HOFFHOLE?!?! YOU DAWG! I KNEW I LIKED YA! DAHHHHHHHHHHRIIIIIIIIIINK!!!!!

“Take the Money and Run,” by The Steve Miller Man enters your eardrums as Steve Harrison flies out of nowhere with his arms in the air, one hand holding a bottle of what we can only assume to be Miracle Milk, and a smirk across his face.

Bryan McVay: And his opponent… from Fairfax, Virginia… weighing in at 245 pounds, he is “The Miracle” Steven Harrison!!!!

Steve struts towards the rings and begins waving at the fans in the cells, who return his waves with boos and indifference. His smirk begins to fade after hearing the response, and the Miracle Man begins jawing back at some of the ungratefuls and pointing to himself yelling over and over-

Steve Harrison: ME, ME, ME!

Steve picks up the pace, his smirk now a scowl, and enters the ring. He finds a corner, puts down the Miracle Milk, and leans against one of the turnbuckles, talking to himself as his face turns 97red in anger.

Benny Newell: I love seeing Harrison telling the crowd just who this match is all about! Kill ‘im, Mircacle Man!

Joe Hoffman: Still not a death match, Benny.

Benny Newell: A man can DREAM!

Doozer steps up to the center of the ring and turns toward his old friend and ex-stable mate first. Before Jiles had a chance to refuse to acknowledge the check-in, The Dooze turns back toward Harrison, who gives the special guest ref a nod. Doozer calls for the bell.

DING DING DING!

Steve instinctively readies for a grapple as he steps up in the center of the ring, expecting to meet his opponent… But Jiles doesn’t move. He stands straight up, arms to his side.

Harrison stops, turning an even deeper shade of red than before, and shouts.

Steve Harrison: FIGHT ME, YOU COWARD!

Cancer starts to turn his head away, and Steve spits at him in disgust. Jiles’ face, for the first time in months, shows color. Before you can blink, he takes a quick lead step forward and sends an outstretched arm toward Harrison-

Joe Hoffman: The Maestro with a clothesli- NO! The Miracle Man ducks!

Harrison turns and quickly snatches a handful of gray hair, and yanks Cancer down to the mat face first.

Joe Hoffman: Steve Harrison with a quick counter takedown.

Benny Newell: KILL ‘IM! DRINK! LOUD NOISES!

Jiles pops back up, even more color to his face now, and swings again-

Joe Hoffman: Harrison grabs a thrown fist from Cancer Jiles! The Maestro frantically throws his left in reaction, but The Miracle Man grabs that one, too!

Steve sends his hard, bald head into Cancer’s dome so hard the Lone Wolf’s legs go out.

Benny Newell: Did you see that headbutt, Hoffhole?!

Joe Hoffman: Yes, Benny. I’m literally sitting right next to you in the Warden’s office, watching the same screen… It’s my job.

Benny Newell: Maybe we should have a death match…

Harrison keeps a hold onto both of Cancer’s hands, and sends a knee right into Jiles’ face, busting open his nose. For the slightest moment you think you see Doozer grimace, but it turns to a grin so fast you can’t be sure.

Benny Newell: WE’VE GOT A BLEEDER! DRINK!

Joe Hoffman: I really hope you’re talking about the booze.

Steve, still holding onto his Cancer’s hands, pulls him up and quickly transitions into a bear hug.

Joe Hoffman: Belly to belly suplex by Steve Harrison! Perfect technique on that one, Benny.

Harrison pins. Doozer drops.

ONE….

TWO – KICKOUT!

Steve looks cross at The Dooze, expecting a quicker count. Doozer doesn’t react.

Joe Hoffman: Looks like Harrison didn’t appreciate the cadence of Doozer’s count just then.

Benny Newell: It was as slow as molasses, for fuck’s sake! I know the newest member of the Best Alliance is old, but come on Dooze!

Steve stands up and drops a knee down into the ribs of Jiles, who turns over holding them in pain as he continues to bleed onto the mat below him.

Joe Hoffman: Harrison grabbing Jiles by the midsection now.

Benny Newell: Look at that strength!

Steve lifts Cancer up like a rag doll – and in one fluid motion sends him hurling over the top of his head.

Joe Hoffman: The Miracle Man with a vicious belly to back suplex! The Meastro just hit the mat so hard he flipped right over!

Jiles lands stomach down and lifeless. Steve turns him over and pins. Doozer drops.

ONE…

TWO….

KICKOUT!

Joe Hoffman: That was a close one, Benny!

Benny Newell: Fffffffffffffffffffffff- DRINK!

Harrison snaps at Doozer with an even stronger reaction than before, clapping his hands rapidly to send a message.

Joe Hoffman: Steve Harrison trying to exhibit the speed he wants him to count at.

Benny Newell: SERIOUSLY! WHO’S SIDE IS DOOZE ON, ANYWAY?

Joe Hoffman: I’m pretty sure neither, Benny…

While Harrison’s barking at the special guest ref, Jiles gets up on his hands and knees and dives forward, putting a shoulder into the back of the Miracle Man’s left leg, staggering him.

Joe Hoffman: Oh, The Miracle Man didn’t like that.

Only pissed off more, Harrison pushes off the mat and spins, whipping his other leg around with him and sending a knee to the back of Cancer’s neck –

Benny Newell: ENGLIGHTMENT! He hit it! OH THAT WAS SO BEAUTIFUL!

Steve pounces on the downed Jiles and wrenches his opponent’s left arm back while wrapping his own right arm around Cancer’s neck for a crossface chicken wing.

Joe Hoffman: OH MY LOOK AT THE POWER OF STEVE HARRISON! He’s digging deeper than ever to muster every ounce of strength in him!

The Miracle Man, still applying the cross face chicken wing, slowly pulls The Maestro up to his feet then lifts him up into the air and spins, slamming Cancer down hard into the mat.

Benny Newell: IT’S A HARRICLE! IT’S A HARRICLE! IT’S A HARRICLE!

Steve rolls over and hooks a leg. Doozer drops.

ONE…

TWO……

THREE!!!

DING DING DING!!!

Joe Hoffman: He did it! The Miracle Man pulled just finished off a near perfect match and impressive victory – getting himself a shot at the LSD title!

Benny Newell: Now we can look forward to more of Jiles drowning himself in his misery. I personally think he should just literally drown himself.

Bryan McVay: And the Number One Contender for the LSD Championship… The Miracle Man, STEEEEEEEEEEVE! HAAAAARRIIIISONNNNNNN!!!

After raising Harrison’s hand in victory, Doozer slowly walks over to Cancer Jiles.

Joe Hoffman: Now what’s this? Are we about to see insult added to injury? Or remorse?

Benny Newell: KILL ‘IM!

Joe Hoffman: Can you just save it for the main event already?

Doozer gets down on a knee to check on the lifeless body below him, only to receive…

A CLOUD OF YELLOW MIST!

Joe Hoffman: COOLYMPIAN YOLJK! OH NO!

Doozer falls back holding his face – Harrison, catching the turn of events out of the corner of his eye, quickly sprints over to his original corner, and grabs the bottle of Miracle Milk. With a swift throwing motion, but never releasing the bottle, he splashes Doozer’s face with the milk!

Joe Hoffman: The Miracle Man just used some of his Miracle Milk to unblind The Dooze!

Benny Newell: A true saint!

Jiles, in the meantime, has pulled himself to his feet. Doozer wipes his eyes clean just in time to see the bottom of a yellow boot incoming-

Joe Hoffman: TERMINAL CAN – NO! DOOZER DUCKS!

Both ex-Bandits turn, and The Dooze sends a swift kick to Cancer’s gut – he underhooks both of Jiles’ arms, tucking Cancer’s head under his left armpit. He lifts his old friend and spins-

Joe Hoffman: THE ABUSER! DOOZER JUST HIT THE ABUSER ON CANCER JILES!

Benny Newell: COULDN’T HAVE STARTED THIS RUMBLE AT THE ROCK ANY BETTER!

The Lone Wolf lies, twitching on the mat, as Doozer rolls out of the ring and follows Harrison out of the GenPop area.

The camera cuts to the Warden’s office where Joe Hoffman and Benny Newell are calling the action as their ready for the next match up.

Joe Hoffman: Well ladies and gentlemen, we’re ready for our next match up here tonight and boy is it gonna be a good one!

Benny Newell: I’m ready for some pure, unadultered violence hoffy!

Joe Hoffman: Well that we’re going to get as our next match is our gen pop match with Conor Fuse taking on Best Alliance’s Jatt Starr.

Benny Newell: It’s gonna be a bloodbath! There. Will. Be. Blood….DRINK!

Joe Hoffman: I have no doubt about that one, Benny. There’s certainly no love lost between these two guys though. It’s been pretty intense the last few weeks and these guys just want to tear each other apart!

Benny Newell: That may be true, but you can’t tear apart the Best Alliance! Jatt is going to destroy The Game Boy and keep him stuck in the 80’s!

Joe Hoffman: I don’t know about that one Benny. Conor is a great competitor and I know he’s going to give Jatt a run for his money here tonight. He’s really been great in HOW since he’s gotten here.

DING DING

Bryan McVay: The following contest is a general population match…scheduled for one fall!

The lights in the arena turn off before the big screen flickers on, like it has just been plugged in. There, a picture of Conor Fuse’s head is placed in the middle and numerous faces of various HOW talent are scattered around, resembling that of a Mega Man stage select screen. As the selection lands on the current match at hand, the lights come back on and a green strobe light shines in the center of the rampway. Emerging from the back is Conor Fuse Conor takes a moment to pose with his left fist in the air. He stops at the front of the ring, takes one leap onto the apron and then with easy clears the ropes and somersaults into the squared circle.

Joe Hoffman: Obviously, it’s just going to be these two, Benny. No outside help from anyone in this match.

Benny Newell: So you say. Jatt doesn’t need any help taking down this wannabe gamer! Such a fucking poser!

I WANT IT ALL!” ”I WANT IT ALL!” “I WANT IT ALL!” ”AND I WANT IT NOW!” Pyrotechnics explode at the top of the ramp as “I Want It All” by Queen blares across the arena. Emerging from the curtain, is Jatt Starr. Jatt Starr walks up the ring steps and into the ring. Jatt looks across the ring at Conor, and he’s not impressed. Conor just stares back at him, though, looking very focused.

Joe Hoffman: Man…I can feel the heat from here! These two men are going to maim each other. Even I can see that a mile away.

Benny Newell: What you got to understand, hoffhole, is that my man Starr is going to mop the floor with Conor. All over Alcatraz!

Hortega looks at both men and calls for the bell.

DING DING!

The match is underway as both men waste no time in meeting each other in the center of the ring and instantly trade lefts and rights with each other. Right after right, left after left, these guys just immediately start brawling with one another. Chaos instantly takes the match as both men show no signs of giving in.

Joe Hoffman: MY GOD!! These two men are going at it! I don’t think I’ve seen suck intensity before!

Benny Newell: Don’t get all sentimental yet HOFFHOLE! This match is still very much young!

The two men continue to brawl, but it is Jatt Starr who finally gets the upper hand. Jatt nails a solid left into the solar plex of Conor that he gasps for air almost as if he’s taken off guard by the shot. Jatt pokes the eye of Conor as Hortega can’t help but to make the match continue as he can do nothing.

Joe Hoffman: Jatt not playing by the rules here.

Benny Newell: What fucking rules hoffhole?! This is fucking Alcatraz, there are no rules here!

The Jatt-I-Master takes advantage as he sends a knee straight into the solarplex of Conor. Conor gasps for air as Jatt follows it up with a snap suplex sending Conor straight to the mat. Conor doesn’t let it keep him down as he attempts to regather himself as he gets back to his feet. Jatt growls as he can’t believe Conor would be able to recover that quickly as Jatt goes for a clothesline but Conor ducks! Conor takes advantage quickly as he hits a pele kick straight to the temple of the ruler of Jattlantis that sends Jatt back into the corner of the turnbuckle. Conor takes this time to get back to his feet. Conor is fired up as he takes the opportunity to take advantage of a buzzed Jatt in the corner. Conor nails Jatt with a springboard dropkick before landing a perfect standing moonsault. Conor goes for the cover.

UNO

DOS

Jatt quickly kicks out.

Joe Hoffman: Conor came to play today Benny! He’s looking relentless today!

Benny Newell: Oh please bitch he’s just getting in some lucky shots.

But lucky shots they are as Conor continues to pound away at Jatt. Jatt gets to his feet but Conor sends him right back down with a standing missile drop kick that rocks Jatt to his core. Conor follows it up with a pin.

UNO

DOS

Joe Hoffman: Jatt kicks out again! Conor is going to have to do more if he wants to keep Jatt down!

Benny Newell: Jatt is just getting warmed up! Conor can’t keep this offense up forever you know!

Conor mounts an offensive assault as he starts to pound Jatt with left after left, right after right as Jatt tries to defend himself but can’t as Conor continues his unrelentless attack. Finally, Jatt is able to push Conor off of him and rolls to his feet. Conor goes for a clothesline, but Jatt ducks and turns around and grabs Conor and hits a Manjattan drop on him taking him down to the mat. Conor gets back to his feet but Jatt runs at him, grabbing him and taking him into the canvas with a spinning DDT. Jatt goes for a cover.

UNO

DOS

KICKOUT

Joe Hoffman: Jatt starting to find his footing in this match..Conor is gonna have to be careful here.

Benny Newell: The only thing Conor is gonna find is a sledgehammer to his fucking skull! Or Jatt turning him into a minime!

Joe Hoffman: Are you making a gaming reference Benny?

Benny Newell: Video Games are for pussies! Besides….Samus was always the hot one.

Joe Hoffman: ……

Jatt rolls off Conor and proceeds to grab him only for Conor to knee him in the midsection and toss him over the top rope and outside the ring allowing Conor to regain his composure. Jatt hits the ground hard and takes a minute to get up. Conor is able to get back to his feet, all the while Jatt finally gets to his and he sees Jatt rise back up to his feet. Conor takes this opportunity to ricochet off the ropes and flies over the top rope and takes down Jatt back to the ground.

Joe Hoffman: Conor leaving it all here in Alcatraz!

Benny Newell: Desperation move there by Conor, Hoffy. Conor knows he doesn’t have a cunts chance in winning this match. He’s getting desperate!

Conor doesn’t care, though, as he picks Jatt up and smashes his head face first against one of the tables in gen pop. He then grabs one of the chairs sitting at one of the tables and collectively bashes Jatt over the head with it, busting him wide open.

Joe Hoffman: Holy JESUS! The mayor of Jattanooga busted wide open!

Benny Newell: Lucky shot there, hoffhole, don’t get too excited you blow your wad right now!

Jatt is now busted open, noticeably, and is on the move as he tries and figures at where he’s at. Both men are now on the move on the outside of the ring as they start to wander around Gen Pop. Conor begins to look around to see how he can utilize his surroundings with The Game Boy around as he wheels in his head start to churn. He follows Jatt around the corner, and god knows where he’s going, as Conor grabs him again and irish whips him into the wall. Jatt holds his back as he falls to the ground and Conor remains full control in this match.

Joe Hoffman: Conor doing a very good job utilizing his surroundings here. Jatt seems dazed.

Benny Newell: Nah…Jatt is just trying to think about his next move. You shouldn’t dismiss Jatt so soon ya turd. You drop more shits than he does eggs.

Joe Hoffman: You’re video game references are duly noted, Benny. I didn’t realize how much of a nerd you truly were. It really is showing.

Benny Newell: Blow. Me. Fuck tard. DRINK!

Jatt is still walking around Gen Pop before Conor notices a corner, empty cell that just happens to be in Gen Pop as Jatt takes a hard left and before Conor can react, Jatt sends an elbow straight to the head of Conor causing him to stumble backwards. Jatt capitalizes on this golden opportunity before Conor can completely grab is bearings and grabs Conor’s head and sticks in straight into a vacant…toilet. Jatt starts to smile sadistically as Conor starts to gasp for air but unable to get it.

Joe Hoffman: My god! Jatt is gonna drown Conor right there with that toilet. That’s wrong!

Benny Newell: That’s politics!

The fresh prince of Jattlair is happy of his work as he takes his own tactics in his hands and continues applying pressure on Conor as Jatt starts to showboat a bit. Jatt releases the hold, because only one person is seemingly gonna die tonight in this prison as Jatt whips him into the cell wall separating the fans from the action as they let out a collectively shocked reaction to Conor bouncing off the cell steel and down to the ground. Jatt measures up Conor and charges at him connecting with an ensiguri straight to the head as Conor falls to the ground. And because this is technically a falls count anywhere besides the ring, Jatt goes for cover as Conor is unable to recatch his breath.

UNO

DOS

TRES

NO!!!!! Conor still has life in him!!

Joe Hoffman: I thought Jatt had him there! That was close!

Benny Newell: Oh please, give me a break hoffhole! Jatt is as professional as they come! There’s a reason he’s in the Best Alliance! Have you learned nothing over the years?!

And because this match is totally legal, Jatt Starr resorts to the low shot and collectively kicks Conor in the dick. Conor falls to the ground as Jatt finds a random shank just lying on the ground and the wheels start turning as he lets out a small laugh. Jatt picks up the shank and is circling Conor as he struggles to get back to his feet. Jatt goes for the strike but its COUNTERED!! Conor headbutts Jatt and drives the shank straight into Jatt’s leg as he lets out a cry in pain.

Joe Hoffman: OH MY GOD!!!! CONOR JUST SHANKED JATT!!!!

Benny Newell: Fucking BULLSHIT, hoffy!!! There is an injustice here and we’re not talking about the league here!

Jatt can barely keep himself on his feet as Conor dropkicks Jatt but it he doesn’t immediately go down which is why Conor grabs him and is able to nail the PWN’d on him leveling Jatt to the ground. Conor can feel the win at his fingertips as he drops down and goes for the cover on Jatt.

Joe Hoffman: Here we go, this could be it!! Jatt took that who PWN’d like a champ!

Benny Newell: Oh HELL NO!!!!!!

UNO

DOS

TRES

Joe Hoffman: HE GOT HIM!!!!!

Benny Newell: NOT SO FAST!!!! JATT WITH THE KICKOUT AT THE LAST POSSIBLE MOMENT!!!!

Jatt was able to kickout just in the nick of time…..and by a cunt hair…literally. Conor sees this as a moment of frustration as even he couldn’t believe Jatt was able to kick out.

Jatt lays their montionless and I don’t think Jatt knows where he is and kickout out on pure instinct alone!

Joe Hoffman: Conor just about had Jatt right there!

Benny Newell: Just about doesn’t even count fucktard! Jatt still does what Jatt does best and that’s kickout out is 97Red!

Conor shakes his head in disbelief as blood starts dripping down from Jatt’s face. He’s clearly lost a good portion of blood and now Conor is trying figure out what he can do to put away the HOW Hall of Famer and Best Alliance member! Conor slowly grabs Jatt and tries to pull him to his feet but not before Jatt rakes him in the eyes. Jatt is fighting for his life at this point as he grabs Conor and spears him straight into the structure blocking the audience as the crowd lets out a collective, but mutually timed groan.

Crowd: OOOOOOOOOH!

Conor’s expression and demeanor change as Jatt is able to grab Conor and nail him with a German Suplex release sending Conor back into the structured wall. Jatt is on the move again as he climbs the stairs in the Gen Pop area where he dives off and nails a pefect elbow drop that levels Conor to his core.

Joe Hoffman: Well there’s something you don’t see everyday! Jatt flying like he’s the new High Flyer!

Benny Newell: You obviously don’t know the actual power Jatt possesses in this match! Jatt is trying to end things here! Get it done, Jatt! I’ve got money on you, DRINK!

Jatt picks up Conor as Conor is off in a daze. Jatt grabs a nearby object and this one he likes. It’s completely made out of glass as Jatt cracks it open over the head of Conor, effectively busting him open as well. Both men are now bleeding pretty well as Jatt grabs Conor and starts to drag him to the ring. Fighting for his life, Conor starts to fight back AGAIN against Jatt trying to throw elbow after elbow shot into the side midsection as Conor connects a side way slam on Jatt right before they get back into the ring. Now both men lay on the ground on the outside, but Hortega doesn’t initiate the countdown due to the match stipulation.

Both men are now stirring as they both get back to their feet at the same time..Conor strikes Jatt with a fast right, nearly catching him off guard as the blood pours down both their faces. Jatt seemingly has found his second wind and begins to go to town with lefts and rights of his own. Now both men are fighting intensively, not allowing the other man to get the upperhand. Conor then striks a closed fist, pump handled right hook that rocks Jatt to his core. Conor then grabs him and attempts to try a huricanarna but Jatt slips out. Conor dosesn’t operate quickly on the quickness, and the fact hat he’s lost a lot of bood is evidence to that. Conor looks for a punt, trying to end Jatt once and for all as he starts to charge. But at the last possible moment in time, Jatt pops up and hits the Falling Star out of nowhere, leveling Conor hard. Jatt drops down and covers Conor.

UNO

DOS

TRES!

Conor kicks out but it’s too late!!!

DING DING DING!

Bryan McVay: Here is your winner……….JAAAAAAAAATTTTT STAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARR!

Jatt drops the leg and just lays in the ring completely exhausted. Conor is out cold after that Falling Star, but it is also noticeable how tired Jatt is after this match!

Joe Hoffman: What a match that was folks! Conor gave everything Jatt could handle and this was a close one! But Jatt had that one extra move that gave him the victory. That’s how close it was tonight, Benny!

Benny Newell: My boy won!! Best Alliance going strong tonight! I never once had faith Jatt couldn’t pull off the victory tonight!

Joe Hoffman: Well regardless of how you feel, that was still an entertaining match up and a damn near close one that Conor could have won. I think the emotions got the best of this match near the end.

Benny Newell: The fucker may have only lost one match in HOW, but make that two with Jatt putting on a stellar performance!

Both men lay on the mat for a few moments before Jatt gets to his feet and Hortega raises his hands, but not without making Jatt barely able to stand because of the loss of blood as the cameras pan elsewhere.

The HOV lights up and “Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap” begins to play in the prison as John Sektor makes his way out to the ring. The fans boo him wildly, which draws a couple of big middle fingers and spit from John Sektor.

Brian McVay: Introducing first, he stands six-feet-one-inches-tall. He weighs in at two-hundred-and-forty-five pounds. Representing the Best Alliance! Ladies and gentlemen, this is JOOOOOOOOOOOOHNNNNNNNNNNN SSSSSSSSSSSSSEKKKKKTOOORRRRRRRRRR!

Sektor continues to mock the cell-blocked fans before he rolls under the bottom rope. He springs to his feet and raises to fists in the air. Just then, “The One You Love to Hate” by Halford begins to play in the prison as the fans erupt with cheers. The chant “DANE! DANE! DANE!” echo throughout the prison as the fans in unison begin shaking their cell doors in rhythm with the chants.

Brian McVay: And his opponent…weighing in at two-hundred-thirty pounds, and stands at six-feet-three inches. He’s from New Orleans, Louisiana! Please welcome, ERRRRRRRRIIIIIIIICCCCCCC DAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNEEEEEE!!!!

Dane talks the long way into the ring, via the stairs.

Benny Newell: I can’t wait for Sektor to fuckin’ smash this old bitch.

Joe Hoffman: Like Steve Solex did?

Benny Newell: What?

Joe Hoffman: The referee for this one will be Matt Boettcher.

Dane and Sektor stand across the ring from one another. Referee Matt Boetcher calls for the bell and the start of the match. Both men approach the center of the ring. The jaw jacking begins and Sektor laughs and points at the KT tape all over the shoulder of Eric Dane. Dane looks at the tape, and then back at Sektor. Dane gives a double middle finger to Sektor and the crowd erupts, wildly shaking their individual cell doors.

Joe Hoffman: This one appears to have boiled over, Benny.

Benny Newell: I can’t wait for Sektor to completely annihilate this piece of trash. Let’s go Sektor! DRINK!

The two men lock up in the center of the ring once more and this time Sektor immediately ducks underneath and takes Dane’s back. Dane attempts to spin out of the hold, but Sektor lifts him into the air, and down to the mat they go. Dane gets to a seated position and sits out, breaking Sektor’s grip and reversing the hold and ending up in back control himself. Sektor attempts the same sitout move, but Dane is able to move with him and rides the hold all the way to the ropes, where Sektor seeks asylum and a break from the hold. The referee begins his count of five, but Dane is reluctant to break the hold.

Joe Hoffman: Eric Dane not listening to Matt Boetcher here, as he calls for the break!

Boetcher pulls back on Eric Dane’s shoulders, and finally gets the break he was looking for. Boetcher confronts Dane by waving a finger in his face and telling him to listen to his instructions, but Dane knocks Boetcher’s finger out of the way, and goes back to his attack. Sektor has other ideas however as he lands a stiff kick into the gut of Eric Dane. Dane doubles over, and Sektor follows up with a thunderous forearm smash across Dane’s back. Dane falls to a knee, and Sektor quickly grabs a hold of Dane’s arm and wrenches in a spinning arm-lock.

Joe Hoffman: John Sektor already attacking that injured arm of Eric Dane!

Benny Newell: Of course he is, Hoffsplit. He’s a technical fucking wizard!

Eric Dane attempts to walk away from the hold, but Sektor holds his grip tight, and lands a few punches to the top of the shoulder that put Dane down to a knee.

Joe Hoffman: A cerebral attack from the Best Alliance member here.

Sektor twists the arm once more before whipping Dane into the ropes. Dane returns and is stopped dead in his tracks by a swift front kick to the stomach from Sektor. Dane bends over from the contact, and Sektor absolutely drills him down with a technically perfect swinging neckbreaker. Sektor quickly makes a cover, but Matt Boetcher is way out of position.

…

…

…

1!

…

Joe Hoffman: Eric Dane kicks out at one!

Benny Newell: Bitcher was way off his mark, Hoffhole!

Joe Hoffman: Either way, Eric Dane was able to kick out and this match continues.

Sektor gets to his feet and gives Matt Boetcher a piece of his mind before he takes hold of Eric Dane by the beard, and pulls him across the ring before whipping him into the corner. Sektor grabs and squeezes Dane’s cheeks – mushing his mouth – and then crushes Dane down to a knee with a closed fisted, right hook that reverberates down through Dane’s jaw and into his knees.. The crowd is animalistic with rage as Sektor throws his arms out in the air and paces arrogantly around the ring.

John Sektor: ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED!?

Benny: I fucking love John Sektor.

Dane begins to get to his feet, using the ropes for leverage. Sektor, ever the strategist, turns his attention back to Dane, and shoves him back into the corner. Sektor takes hold of Eric Dane’s injured arm with both hands and uses it for leverage to throttle Dane into a somersault, landing flat on his back.

Joe Hoffman: Nifty little move there from John Sektor.

Benny Newell: Nifty? Fuckin’ nifty?! I knew your mom dropped you on your head, Hofftits. Nothing John Sektor does is nifty. Everything he does is glorious!

Joe Hoffman: I’m just calling it how I….

Benny Newell: GLORIOUS!

The audible sigh from Joe Hoffman is perfectly synced with Sektor holding Dane’s arm out and executing a leg drop right across the elbow. The crowd becomes increasingly enraged and uneasy as Eric Dane’s cries of pain echo throughout the prison. Sektor laughs, and makes a cover securing the injured arm flat against the mat. Boetcher slides in for the count.

1!

…

2!

…

Dane is able to get the shoulder up before the count of three, and John Sektor just laughs it off, not believing that Eric Dane wants to endure this any longer.

Joe Hoffman: Just a count of two for Sektor there.

Benny Newell: Just another reason to DRINK!

Joe Hoffman: You’ve never needed a reason before.

Benny Newell: Neither did your mom!

The sound of Benny Newell slapping his knee is heard over the headset microphone. Back in the ring, Sektor gets to his feet, and with a hand full of Dane’s beard, he pulls Dane up to his feet as well. Sektor grabs a hold of Eric Dane’s now famously injured arm, and twists it over his head, and holds the arm in position. Sektor jumps up in the air and hammers down on the arm with a six-to-twelve style elbow-strike that drops Dane down to a knee. Dane quickly spring back up to his feet, but Sektor has a kung-fu grip on his wrist, and once again drives an elbow into the twisted, back side of Dane’s arm, nearly bending it in the opposite direction. Again, Dane falls to a knee. Again, Dane is quick to his feet. Sektor is relentless in his attack, and again drops the elbow into Dane’s arm. This time, Dane stays down on a knee.

Joe Hoffman: Eric Dane looks to be in some trouble here, Benny. John Sektor has been like a machine attacking that arm!

Benny Newell: Duh.

Sektor twists the arm over his head again, wrenching that arm ever so close to snapping right off the body of Eric Dane. Dane slaps at his shoulder, trying to keep the blood flowing to the injured limb. Sektor twists Dane’s wrist upside down and stands tall as he bends it awkwardly. Sektor attempts to hold Dane down, but Dane’s motivation and will are enough to get him back on his feet. Sektor, however still has a hold of that arm, and jumps straight up into the air with another elbow smash, but Dane yanks his arm out just in the nick of time and Sektor totally whiffs.

Joe Hoffman: Eye poke! Sektor’s been blinded by a vicious eye poke from Eric Dane!

Benny Newell: Old bitch.

Sektor covers his eyes with his hands and aimlessly stumbles around the ring with Matt Boetcher in tow, checking on the Best Alliance member.

John Sektor: Get the fuck out my face!

Sektor shouts at the referee and shoves him aside and about as uncoordinated and awkwardly as you’ve ever seen a referee, Boetcher falls into the corner. Sektor stumbles around the ring with one hand covering his eyes and the other reaching out for Eric Dane, who’s now on his feet and unbeknownst to Sektor….Dane is standing right in front of his opponent, grinning from ear to ear.

Joe Hoffman: Dick kick! Eric Dane goes low while the referee is distracted!

Benny Newell: Ring the goddamn bell, Hoffnuts! We don’t need a ref to call a DQ on that one!

Sektor absolutely crumbles to his knees, both hands now down at his crotch. Dane looks over at the ref, who’s still down, and smirks. Dane tries to rotate the pain from his arm, but winces in agony as he does so. He tucks the arm in tight to his body and slowly walks over to Sektor, who is now completely laid out on the mat, still clutching his groin. The crowd begins to frantically cheer on the grizzled veteran as he stands over Sektor and holds out his only moveable arm to his side.

Eric Dane: ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED!?

The crowd goes ballistic, as the sounds of every cell gate in the building rattling echoes throughout the prison.

Joe Hoffman: Eric Dane mocking John Sektor here!

Benny Newell: He’ll pay for that shit later, Hoffnips!

Sektor reaches out for Dane’s ankle, but his instincts kick back in and he again covers his cash and prizes as Dane plans a stiff boot into Sektor’s chest. Dane reaches down, grabs a handful of mustache and pulls Sektor to his feet. Dane, working with one arm, leads Sektor into the ropes by the mustache and whips him across the ring. Sektor hits the ropes and is clobbered to the floor with a well-timed and beautifully executed running clothesline.

Joe Hoffman: Eric Dane with a nasty clothesline! John Sektor is in trouble here!

Benny Newell: You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

Sektor immediately sits up, but only out of instinct as his eyes appear to be glazed over from the impact. Dane quickly takes Sektor’s back and locks in a chin lock. Sektor tries to escape the hold with two hands on one arm, but Dane’s got him locked up tight. Boetcher begins to come into the corner, but has still not reasserted himself as the official in the match. Eric Dane capitalizes on the situation and transitions from a chin lock into a double fish hook. Sektor squirms and tussles trying to break the hold, but Dane has his fingers deep into his cheeks and viciously pulls them apart. The blood thirsty crowd goes bananas, but Matt Boetcher is back up and immediately grabs ahold of Eric Dane’s shoulders, and begins his count to five.

Joe Hoffman: Matt Boetcher trying to get Eric Dane to break the hold!

Just before the count of five, Dane releases the hold…but not before splitting Sektor’s top lip. Blood trickles down Sektor’s lip and into his mouth, which he immediately spits out onto the canvas. Sektor pats his lip and checks for blood and when he sees it, his eyes widen before a look of absolute rage takes over. Sektor scrambles to his feet, but he’s immediately struck with a stiff punch to the face that only widens the split on his lip further and knocks him backward into the corner. Dane follows in and a dirty combination of an eye rake and a punch that appears low, but draws no warning from the referee.

Benny Newell: That was low! Ring the fuckin’ bell Bitcher!

Sektor falls to a knee, but is quickly whipped across the ring into the buckle and crashes chest first and then falls flat onto his back in the center of the ring. Dane hurries over to Sektor, trying to capitalize on the momentum, and lifts Sektor back to his feet. Dane lands a couple of hard punches to the forehead of John Sektor, and bullies him back against the ropes. Dane lands a vicious chop across the chest of Sektor, drawing the obligatory “WOO!” from the crowd. Dane takes in the adulation from the crowd and rewards their outburst with another blistering chop across Sektor’s chest.

Joe Hoffman: A nice welt has already begun to form on John Sektor’s chest!

Benny Newell: Bullshit, Hofflips…I don’t see a fuckin’ thing!

Dane whips Sektor across the ring and into the ropes, and doubles Sektor over with a charging knee that again looks low, but draws no warning from Matt Boetcher, as it was a very borderline area.

Joe Hoffman: Eric Dane showing just how crafty he can be! I can’t tell if that’s low or not, and neither can Matt Boetcher!

Benny Newell: Bitcher is just fuckin’ up tonight, you Hoffwit. Anybody with two eyes should be able to see that!

Dane is quickly all over Sektor, and locks in a side headlock. Sektor, not wasting any time at all, walks Dane backward into the ropes and throws him off the opposite side. Sektor goes for a clothesline, but Dane ducks under.

Joe Hoffman: What body drop by Sektor! Eric Dane was ten feet in the air!

Benny Newell: He was way higher than that! Where’s my fucking tape measure?!

Despite the hellacious impact, Dane is quickly back to his feet. Sektor whips Dane into the buckle, and charges in after him smashing Dane into the corner. Sektor creates some space between the two as Dane stumbles out of the corner. Sektor plants a boot into Dane’s gut and sets him up for a suplex. Dane blocks the attempt, but Sektor is persistent and tries once more. Again, Dane is able to block the move. But Sektors persistence pays off and on the third attempt, he lifts Eric Dane into a vertical suplex. Sektor doesn’t slam him immediately, and instead holds him upside down allowing Dane’s head to fill with blood. The crowd boos wildly from their cells.

Joe Hoffman: Eye rake from Eric Dane! Sektor’s lost his grip and Dane smashes down on him! There’s a cover! Boetcher in for the count!

1!

…

2!

…

…

…

Joe Hoffman: John Sektor gets a shoulder up just in time!

Eric Dane pleads his case to Boetcher, but Boetcher just shows him two fingers.

Eric Dane: Oh, fuck you! That was three and you know it!

Dane’s protest yields no results from Boetcher.

1!

…

2!

…

Joe Hoffman: Kickout! Eric Dane’s attention was on the referee, and John Sektor rolled him up, nearly getting the win!

Benny Newell: What a bunch of shit! That was definitely three!

Eric Dane kicks out by rolling all the way over and getting back to his feet, he charges at Sektor but is stopped short by a stiff punch from Sektor. Sektor then grabs hold of Dane’s injured arm and locks it up with a flying arm-bar maneuver that puts Eric Dane flat on his back in the center of the ring with his arm locked up tight.

Joe Hoffman: Boetcher is checking on Eric Dane here!

Eric Dane refuses to tap out as referee Matt Boetcher fervently checks on him. Dane is able to create some space between his arm and Sektor’s body, relieving a bit of the pressure. But Sektor has it scouted and quickly rolls through and transitions the arm bar into a Kimura from the guard position.

1!

…

2!

Boetcher makes the count, as Sektor’s shoulders went flat on the mat, but Sektor quickly transitions the arm bar again, but this time uses his legs to trap Dane into a gogoplata.

Benny Newell: I told you, he’s a fucking technical wizard, Hoffslob!

Joe Hoffman: Very impressive chain of moves here by John Sektor, I will say!

Boetcher continues to check on Dane, but Dane somersaults out of the hold, and both men get to their feet. Dane charges in…

Benny Newell: C-FUCKING-SEKTION BITCHES!!!!

1!

…

2!

…

…

…

…

3!

Benny Newell: YES! FUCKING YES!

John Sektor jumps to his feet and throws his arms in the air. The crowd boos wildly as Sektor takes center stage in the ring with his arms up celebrating.

Joe Hoffman: No! Referee Matt Boetcher says it’s not over!

Boetcher stands in the middle of the ring, pointing at the right foot of Eric Dane which is just below the bottom rope.

Benny Newell: Get the fuck out of here, Hofftwat! John Sektor wins!

Sektor continues to celebrate in the ring. Matt Boetcher tries to get his attention, but he brushes the referee off and climbs to the second turnbuckle and begins taunting the fans in their cells.

John Sektor: I fucking told you! I’m the man!

Sektor hops down from the second rope.

…

…

Joe Hoffman: STARDRIVER! UNBELIEVABLE! Eric Dane has flattened John Sektor with Stardriver right in the center of the ring!

Benny Newell: This match is over! John Sektor already fucking won!

Joe Hoffman: Eric Dane needs to make the cover! But both men are flat on their backs!

Matt Boetcher looks at both men down and out. He has no choice but to begin a count of ten.

1!

…

The crowd counts with the referee, while they rattle their cell doors in unison. A pool of blood begins to form on the mat from the lip of John Sektor.

…

2!

…

Neither man moves as the referee continues his count.

…

3!

…

Benny Newell: This is fucking bullshit, and you know it Hoffhole! John Sektor won this match already!

Joe Hoffman: No, Benny. He really didn’t.

Benny Newell: You’re really a bitch.

…

4!

…

5!

…

The crowd continues with the count, as neither man has moved a muscle.

…

6!

…

Joe Hoffman: Eric Dane showing some signs of life here, as he crawls to the ropes.

Dane slowly uses the ropes to climb to his feet and stumbles out to the center of the ring as the referee stops his count.

Joe Hoffman: C-SEKTION!

Benny Newell: YES!

Eric Dane was completely unaware that John Sektor had gotten to his feet. The crowd boos wildly as Sektor wastes no time and locks in…

Benny Newell: Yes, it’s the Sektor Stretch!!!

Joe Hoffman: Eric Dane has nowhere to go! Sektor has him locked up and stretched out in the center of the ring!

Eric Dane puts up a valiant effort, but in the end…he’s forced to tap out.

DING! DING! DING!

“Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap” by AC/DC plays in the prison as John Sektor continues to hold the stretch on Eric Dane. Matt Boetcher calls for the bell again.

DING! DING! DING!

DING! DING! DING!

Sektor finally relents, and releases the hold. The blood from the split in his lip continues to flow as he stands over Eric Dane and holds his arm up in the air.

Joe Hoffman: Well folks, it is now time for the first of three title matches of the night.  Hughie Freeman defending his LSD Title for the very first time against the five time LSD champion, Hall of Famer Scottywood.

Benny Newell: Soon to be six time champion Joe!

Joe Hoffman: Jumping on the Scottywood bandwagon tonight?

Benny Newell: So that pikey piece of shit isn’t champion anymore… yes. 

Joe Hoffman: Well anyhow… these two men have been locked in isolation for the past two weeks.  When those cell doors open it will be the first time they have had any human contact since the go-home show.

Benny Newell: And when Hughie loses, he is going to rot in that jail cell forever.

We cut down to Joel Hortge who is in the solitary confinement area of the prison with six H.A.T.E. guards who are standing in front of two cell doors.  Hortega nods his head at the guards who pull the latches back on the doors at the same time and open them wide up.

DING DING DING

For a moment none exits the cells.  Maybe it’s cautiousness.  Maybe it’s gamesmanship.  But Hortega shrugs his shoulders, not sure what to do as he motions for the guards to take a look inside the cells.

Benny Newell: HA!  Maybe they’re both dead Joe!  Did anyone remember to feed them?

Joe Hoffman: I am sure… I mean… I’m guessing someone did that…

Guards go to both cells as they peer around the corners, tasers drawn.

CRACK!!!!

CRACK!!!!

Both guards stumble out of the cell, without their tasers as we see two food trays thrown out. 

Joe Hoffman: I think they have been fed Benny…

Scotty and Hughie emerge from the cells, armed with the tasers as the four other guards rush the two.  Scotty boots the first in the face as tasers the second in the shoulder.  Hughie headbuts one and drives the taser into the genitals of the second.  The guards either fall to the ground or scatter out of the area.

Finally the two men turn to each other, tasers in hand as they stare each other down for a moment.

Benny Newell: TASER FIGHT!!!!

But instead, knowing that neither could be effective with them, they discard the tasers at the same time and a slug fest ensues outside the cells as each man lands blow after blow to each other’s heads.  But knowing getting into a blow for blow fight might not be the best, Scotty drives a quick knee into the gut of Hughie and throws him face first into the brick wall.  Dazed for a moment, Hughie takes a moment and then wildly throws a right back at Scotty….

ZAAAAAAAPPP!!!

Scott picks his taser back up and connects it with the first of Hughie.  The taser explodes with a slight fireball that on top of shocking, burns the right hand of Hughie.

Joe Hoffman: Scotty quickly neutralizing that Fatality Punch of Hughie’s!

One of the remaining H.A.T.E. guards starts to get back to his feet as Scotty grabs the taser off him and zaps the guards straight between the eyes.  Collapsing to the ground he rips the baton off of his belt and quickly extends it.

Benny Newell: Penis joke Joe… there has to be a penis joke here…

Joe Hoffman: I’m sitting on the edge of my seat waiting for it Benny…

Swinging away, Scotty cracks Hughie across the ribs once, twice, three times before he crumbles to the ground against the brick wall.  Kneeling down next to him, Scotty drives the baton across the throat of Freeman who starts gasping for air. 

Scottywood: She is coming home with me Hughie!  Where she fucking belongs!

Dropping the baton Scotty starts cracking Hughie across the head with right after right, busting the champion open before throwing him on the ground and going for a cover.

UNO…..



DOS……..

Hughie throws his shoulder up as Scotty shakes his head, knowing it couldn’t have been that easy.  Helping Hughie back to his feet, Scotty starts to lead him away from the cells, throwing him into another nearby wall before laying some boots to him.

Scottywood: Where the fuck is my cross Lee!  I’m gonna crucify this fucker still!

Kicking the nearby door open, Scotty grabs Hughie and pulls him back to his feet again as he leads him out of the solitary confinement corridor.  But Hughie throws his leg out and blocks his exit as he elbows Scotty in the gut and starts a rapid fire of punches to the face and body of Scotty.

Walking into the corridor we see a new H.A.T.E. guard, this one smaller dressed in all black with a helmet that looks too big for them.  They’re carrying a hockey stick and what seems to be some kind of spiked cross.

Joe Hoffman: What is this now?  I thought all the H.A.T.E. guards were taking orders from Lee now.

Hughie spots the new entry and leaps up from the ground.

Joe Hoffman: Fatality…. Heabutt?

The headbut cracks the helmet of the guard, sending him reeling backwards and to the ground.  The helmet rattles across the floor revealing the bright yellow hair of Frankie the Cameraman who is now unconscious.  But the spiked cross slides towards Scotty who grabs it as Hughie turns back….

CRACK!!!

Scotty drills Hughie with the cross in his head, reeling the LSD champion as more blood starts to pour down his face.  Grabbing Hughie’s burned right hand, Scotty pins it against the walls and raises the spiked cross back up.

Benny Newell: Crucify him!

Joe Hoffman: Not exactly a crucifixion… but I doubt semantics are a sticking point for Scotty right now.

Taking the cross Scotty impales the weapon into Hughie hand as the LSD champion winces in pain…

RING THE BELL!

Benny Newell: It’s over!!! Scottywood is the new LSD Champion!

Joe Hoffman: Since when can Hortega speak English?

Benny Newell: Hooked on Phonics? Do you think I really care?

But it was not Hortega yelling it… instead Scotty as Hortgea shakes his head and holds up three fingers, telling Scotty he needs to pin Hughie… not crucify him.  Scotty snarls before turning back to Hughie who suddenly strikes a look of death back at Scotty before he head butts him, splitting the Hall of Famer open.

Benny Newell: What the fuck is this horse shit?!?

Joe Hoffman: Lee Best struck down that crucifixion stipulation on the go-home Benny… everyone knows that.

Scotty stumbles back as Hughie launches forward with another head butt, and a third before he spears The Hardcore Artist to the ground, driving his spine into the cold concrete and going for a pin.

UNO………

DOS………………

TRE….

Scott kicks a shoulder up just in time as Hughie climbs back to his feet and spots the barbed wire hockey stick laying next to Frankie’s still unconscious body.  Picking it up he starts to unravel the barbed wire from it as Scotty slowly pulls himself back to his feet.  Hughie starts to wrap the barbed wire around his own arm as he charges Scotty.

Joe Hoffman: Barbed Line!  He’s going for Scotty’s own move…

Benny Newell: Kick to the balls!

Scottywood delieves a hard boot downstairs that stops Hughie dead in his tracks before he lifts Hughie up and…

Benny Newell: Game Misconduct on the concrete!!!!  It’s fucking over now Joe!

Shooting the half, Scotty drapes his arm across Hughie.




UNO………………..

DOS……………………………………

TRES………………………………………………………..

Benny Newell: YOUR NEW LSD CHAMP…

Joe Hoffman: Hughie breaks the count with the barbed wire!!

Hughie indeed strikes Scotty across the back with the barbed wire wrapped around his arm just in time to break Hortega’s Tres count.  He then does it again… and again as Scotty rolls away, his back shredded by the barbed wire.  Hughie though rolls with Scotty and starts hammering away with barbed wire forearm shots to the skull of Scotty, tearing the flesh from the face of the Hall of Famer.

Joe Hoffman: Hughie Freeman is losing it!  Look at all the blood pouring from the face of Scotty and the arm of Hughie in this masochistic attack.

Scotty tries to fight back with some of his own punches, but Hughie will not relent until he grabs Scotty’s head and slams it down onto the concrete.

Benny Newell: Watch out for the soft spot!  You’ll kill him!

Joe Hoffman: I don’t think Hughie cares Benny.

Benny Newell: Only Mike Best is allowed to murder tonight you pikey pike!

The life has seemed to leave Scotty as he lays near if not fully unconscious on the ground as Hortega starts a pin count.

UNO……..

DOS……….

Hughie though pulls the shoulders of Scotty up as he shakes his head at Hortega to signal he is not done.

Hughie Freeman: This is for the months of my life you let me rot in that fucking cell Scotty!  No more!  I am not going back in there!  Today… I am a FREE MAN!

Hughie again slams Scotty’s head down toward the concrete as the eyes of The Hardcore Artist roll into the back of his head and we see a small amount of blood trickle out from udner the trademark red dreadlocks before Hortega again starts his count.

UNO…………………….

DOS…………………………………………..

Benny Newell: Rise Scotty!  Rise from the fucking dead!!!!

TRES…………………………………

DING DING DING

Bryan McVay: Here is your winner…. And STILL HOW LSD CHAMPION…. HUGHIE FREEMAN!!!!!

Freeman rolls off Scotty and collapses on the ground next to him as Hortega drapes the LSD Title across his chest and Hughie latches on, knowing he nearly lost his new love.

Joe Hoffman: Nothing pretty about that match as expected… it was a violent, brutal and personal affair between these two men as Hughie Freeman picks up what may be the biggest win of his career over Scottywood in this LSD Title match.

Benny Newell: Fucking cunt stain!  This is bullshit Joe!  This is not how this was supposed to end!

Joe Hoffman: That’s all a matter of opinion Benny.  Scotty had a strong showing here tonight and almost did win his sixth LSD Title… but in the end, Hughie finished stronger and scored the victory here tonight.

A medic comes in to check on Scottywood as they quickly cover the bleeding to the back of his head while Hughie slowly pulls himself back to his feet.  No H.A.T.E. guards rushing in to take him into custody.  He looks back at his prison cell and then looks at the exit to the corridor.  All he can do is smile as Hughie walks out of solitary confinement and likely on the first boat he can off of the island.

As we come back from commercial to ringside we see the Hall of Fame team ready for the next highly anticipated match up.

Joe Hoffman: Next up is the ICON championship match as the number one contender, Lindsay Troy takes on the champion, Dan Ryan in the infamous Prison Yard Match.

Benny Newell: Joe someone is getting fucked up tonight because not one of these two competitors are going to give an inch. It took Mike a hope and a prayer to dethrone Dan Ryan the first time because we all saw what he did to the lesser Murray at No Remorse when he reclaimed the belt.

Joe Hoffman: He squashed him.

Benny Newell: That’s the understatement of the year Hoffman, he beat that ass and it takes a Group of Death member to beat a Group of Death member and Lindsay Troy has a difficult, but doable chance tonight to copy what Mike did earlier this year.

Joe Hoffman: That she does partner, and with that we take you down to the yard.

Benny Newell: Fucking DRINK!

There is no theme music. No elaborate entrance for either individual involved in this match. No fans present, no press waiting in the wings. The entire prison yard is lit up from end to end with the customary spotlighting purchased years ago. In the darkness, the yard looks daunting; especially in its utter emptiness.

Joe Hoffman: Throughout the history of HOW, the Prison Yard Matches have made or killed careers.

Benny Newell: I hate the guy, but even I have to admit that the big guy has humbled a lot of people that decided to step and test the waters or when the fucks needed a reminder of knowing their place.

The eerie sound of a creaky gate opening by a member of the EPU as Lindsay Troy is the first person to enter the yard. She looks focused as she walks down the steps into the center of the recreational field before heading to her side. Shortly after, the champion makes his entrance. As Dan reaches the bottom of the steps he unstraps the ICON championship from around his waist and hands it to Boettcher before heading to his side.

Joe Hoffman: Challenger and Champion have both made their way into the yard and this match is about to be underway.

Three individuals stand in the prison yard. Referee Matt Boettcher stands in the center, almost looking nervous as he looks to his left and to his right before slowly raising the ICON championship above his head. About twenty yard apart, both the competitors stand, their eyes locked on one another as this match gets ready to begin.

On one side, Dan Ryan has dropped his traditional wrestling gear in favor of longer pants and a doublet top with “G.O.D” stenciled into the legs and back, likely to absorb some of the impact of the prison yard, but more importantly of the surprise he brought along to start the match. Standing twenty yards in front of him, Lindsay Troy looks a bit nervous, and rightfully so as she sees that her opponent has taken his glass shard gloves that are still stained with dry blood and rotting flesh to the next level as he’s covered both arms in glass.

Benny Newell: What the fuck is Dan wearing Hoffman?!?!?!?!? Can he do that?

Joe Hoffman: Well there are no rules Benny so he can do whatever he wants and it looks as if he’s upgraded the gloves a bit.

Benny Newell: A bit?!?!?!? It looks like he tattooed that shit onto his body!

Lindsay looks down at her forearm guard and hits them and a loud clang is heard.

Joe Hoffman: Looks as if Lindsay made a tweak to her attire as well.

Matt Boettcher starts to yell, looking towards Lindsay Troy who nods before looking at the champion who does his best Tong Po impression as he licks the broken glass and his tongue becomes red.

Benny Newell: YUCK!

Boettcher places the ICON championship around his waist and rings the bell– metaphorically speaking.

Joe Hoffman: And here we go.

Dan Ryan slowly marches his way towards Lindsay Troy who hasn’t moved an inch. A smirk forms over the face over the usually stoic Dan Ryan who goes for a big right hand, but the Queen ducks under and launches a shot to the midsection that causes the Texan to growl in pain.

Joe Hoffman: That’s a sound you don’t normally hear coming from Dan Ryan.

Benny Newell: Metal against bone always wins.

Troy delivers another shot this time a right hand to the ribs of Dan causing him to back up a bit, but Ryan immediately attacks with a back fist and Troy avoids it by attacking the right knee of the champion bringing him down to the ground.

Joe Hoffman: Smart of Lindsay to attack the weak knee of Dan Ryan.

Lindsay continues the attack with boots to the knee.

Benny Newell: Break his fucking knee!

The champion growls in pain as he swings wildly at Troy who narrowly avoids the glass, but it tears small pieces of fabric off of it.

Joe Hoffman: Dan Ryan came within millimeters of drawing first blood with that swipe.

Dan realizing his missed turns his attention back towards his opponent only to eat the sole of her boot from a roundhouse kick to the face.

Benny Newell: I’m sure that didn’t taste too good.

Seeing her opportunity, Lindsay slaps on a kneebar causing the champion to growl out in pain.

Joe Hoffman: The usual dominant, Dan Ryan, has been dominated by his opponent here tonight.

Benny Newell: Relax Hoffman. It isn’t over under Spooky Butter sings.

Lindsay adds insult to injury as she begins to hammer on the knee cap with her metal gauntlet either hurting or pissing off the Hammer of God…..it’s hard to tell.

Joe Hoffman: Lindsay Troy using her speed and quickness to ground the bigger Dan Ryan and using her submission mastery to try and make the champion submit.

Benny Newell: Dan Ryan ain’t tapping. Dan Ryan doesn’t tap. Hell, tapping isn’t in the man’s vocabulary Hoffman. If you were to ask him what tapping is he’d probably reply with tap water or that dancing shit.

Boettcher asks if the champion submits and Ryan shoots him the bird.

Benny Newell: Does that answer your question Bitcher!

Dan is able to roll to his left side exposing Lindsay’s left leg and the Texas Cyborg uses his sleeve of glass to hack away at the leg of Lindsay Troy who has no choice, but to release the hold.

Joe Hoffman: Dan using the glass to hack away until Troy released the hold was genius as it cut open her leg and she’s bleeding profusely from the wounds.

Benny Newell: Genius? To Dan Ryan that was like breathing air.

Dan rolls over to his chest and pushes himself up to all fours as Lindsay winces in pain as she checks her leg. As Dan Ryan gets to his feet he notices a massive running boot coming towards him, but the champion catches his opponent leg and uses his massive strength to lift her high into the air.

Joe Hoffman: Lindsay went for the homerun shot, but Ryan blocked it.

Benny Newell: You thought Kostoff powerbombing Mike Best through the Roman Coliseum was bad, Dan Ryan about to Humility Bomb Lindsay Troy through the fucking Alcatraz Island!

As Dan goes to drive her into the ground, Lindsay is able to use the momentum to flip him.

Joe Hoffman: COUNTER! LINDSAY TROY COUNTERED THE HUMILITY BOMB WITH A HURRICANRANNA!

As she has Ryan’s shoulders pinned to the cement she starts raining down rights and lefts and the champion tries to cover up from the metal gauntlets tagging him. Boettcher slides into position.

One.

Two.

NO!!!!!!!!!!!!

Lindsay yells out in agony as Dan Ryan uses the glass to slice open each though.

Benny Newell: Like carving a turkey Hoffman.

Dan Ryan like a shark smelling blood swarms Lindsay Troy and goes for a big stomp but Lindsay rolls out of the way. Dan goes for a punch, but Lindsay moves once again and the champion smashes his hand into the concrete causing Ryan to spew expletives. Lindsay sweeps the leg sending the champion back to the ground.

Joe Hoffman: Lindsay just swept the leg.

Benny Newell: NO MERCY!

Joe Hoffman: What?

Benny Newell: KOBRA KAI NEVER DIES HOFFHOLE!

Lindsay goes over to her opponent only to be turned inside out by a massive sitting lariat by the champion.

Joe Hoffman: Dan Ryan looks like he’s done playing around after that lariat.

Benny Newell: Dun. Dun. Dun. Dun. Nunna. Nunna. Dun. Dun. Dun.

Dan shakes the cobwebs out and makes his way towards Lindsay. Once the ICON champion reaches his opponent he reaches down to pick her, but staggers back from a boot to the face. Lindsay tries to capitalize on her attack by springing up to deliver jumping knees to Ryan’s face, but the champion catches her and delivers a massive overhead belly to belly suplex causing Lindsay to land back first on the metal stair railings.

Benny Newell: I’m having flashbacks of Embosser Hoffman watching Dan Ryan right now.

Dan cracks his neck before heading towards Lindsay Troy and begins to ball up his fist looking to give Lindsay a Glasgow Smile with his shards of glass. As Dan gets closer by walking up the steps, Troy rips away one of the loose metal railings and begins to attack the legs of the champion.

Joe Hoffman: The Queen showing she has some fight left as she uses that metal railing to attack the legs of Dan Ryan.

Benny Newell: Luck be a lady…..

Lindsay hits the knee of Ryan causing him to fall face first onto the steps and begins to attack the back of the champion. Lindsay takes a step back and waits for Dan to push himself back up before running to deliver a double stomp to the back of Dan’s head driving him face first into the concrete steps cracking them with such force.

Benny Newell: Lindsay just made Dan Ryan bite the curb Hoffman.

Lindsay immediately slaps on the Koji Clutch to submit the big man.

Joe Hoffman: Lindsay locking in the Divine Right to finish off Dan Ryan here.

Benny Newell: Easier said than done Hoffman.

Boettcher checks on Ryan who has gas still left in the tank as he uses his shards of glass to grind into the legs of the challenger once again until she lets go.

Joe Hoffman: Dan using his glass to get out of pins and submissions here tonight with ease.

Benny Newell: Genius level move Hoffman.

As Dan tries to regain his bearings, Lindsay goes for the death blow as she raises the railing up to smash Dan in the head, but the champion catches the railing and yanks Lindsay towards him, but the Queen is able to lift her legs in time to drive her knees into the chest and face of Dan Ryan knocking his back against the steps and the wind out of him.

Joe Hoffman: The Raynes of Castamere sends the champion rolling backwards down the steps.

Benny Newell: A Lannister always pays their debts and a Troy always delivers knees to nose.

Lindsay stares down at Dan Ryan from the top of the stairs to deliver a splash onto the downed champion.

Joe Hoffman: Lindsay using whatever means necessary to win.

Lindsay picks up the metal railing and begins to tee off on Dan as she brutalizes his back and ribs before yelling at Dan to get up.

Benny Newell: Looks like sees going for the homerun swing Hoffman.

As Dan gets to his feet and turns around, Lindsay swings with all of her might to take Dan’s head off, but the avoids the wild swing and locks in a full nelson, but before the official can ask Lindsay if she wants to submit, the champion lifts her into the air and drives her back down with a full nelson slam that sends the air right out of the Queen.

Benny Newell: I just think I heard Lindsay gasp her last breath Hoffman.

Lindsay lies motionless on the ground and the Hammer of GOD makes his way towards her and when he gets near her he goes for a pin and drives his forearm into her face.

One.

Two.

NO!

Lindsay gets out!

Joe Hoffman: Even with glass pressed into her cheek Lindsay is still fighting.

Dan shakes his head and flicks his wrist causing the shards to cut Troy’s cheek. Dan then looks down towards Lindsay’s exposed midriff as he uses the back of his right hand and forearm to slowly grind the shards of glass into the stomach before ripping the shards across opening up a huge gash in her stomach.

Benny Newell: I think I’m gonna puke.

Dan stands up and looks to mount Lindsay, but the Queen goes low and knees the champion in the balls.

Joe Hoffman: Well that’s a counter that always works.

As Dan is holding himself, Lindsay begins to crawl away from the champion. She sees the metal railing in the distance and makes her way towards it. Dan gets to his and begins to go after Lindsay.

Benny Newell: I think I saw this ending in a movie once.

Lindsay desperately grabs the metal railing and turns to swing, but the giant boot of Dan Ryan smashes her arm into the ground and holds it in place until she releases the metal railing.

Benny Newell: You’ve spinned your last web Spider-Woman.

Dan lifts his boot to smash her face in but Lindsay uses her arm to spray some form of mist into the eyes of Dan Ryan.

Benny Newell: The fuck is that?!?!?!?!?

Lindsay reaches down and grabs the metal rod and drills Dan across the back causing the champion to drop to a knee. She tosses the rod aside and looks to finish off the champion with a curb stomp. Lindsay runs at Dan and goes to drive the champion’s face into the ground, but the champion has other plans as he launches her up and as she comes down he hits a spinning back elbow strike and blood goes flying everywhere as the shards cut open Lindsay Troy the top of her neck down towards her chest.

Joe Hoffman: GOOD GOD!

Benny Newell: I think you mean HOLY SHIT!

Lindsay Troy desperately holds her neck to stop the bleeding as Dan Ryan covers her and hooks a leg.

One.

Two.

Three.

Boettcher signals for the bell that we never hear and goes to raise the hand of the victor who shoves him away and snatches his championship away from his waist before heading towards the exit.

Joe Hoffman: Brutal match, but a hard fought victory nonetheless by the champion.

Benny Newell: Lindsay could be seriously hurt we need some medical attention out here Hoffman.

As Dan Ryan exits the Prison Yard, EMTs and HOW officials head down to look at Lindsay who shoves Boettcher out of the way after he tries to help her to her feet.

Joe Hoffman: Looks like Lindsay doesn’t want any assistance.

Benny Newell: That a girl!

EMTs and officials plead with Lindsay to let them look at her but she shoves them out of the way as she makes her way back up the steps and exits the yard.

The Road to ICONIC begins.

Joe Hoffman: Ladies and gentlemen, while High Octane Wrestling regularly features acts of extreme violence, tonight’s main event will feature emotionally, mentally, and physically disturbing imagery that may not be suitable for all viewers. The HOW World Championship match that you are about to see between Michael Lee Best and Maximilian Kael is being contested under deathmatch rules, and will not come to an end until one man’s heart stops beating.

Benny Newell: I… don’t like this, Joe. Fuck I don’t like this. Lee Best is losing a son tonight.

Joe Hoffman: It is my sincere hope that these men have a change of heart before this match is over. But for those of you watching at home who may be affected by the violent acts that will occur here tonight, please be aware that this match may very likely end in the death of a living, breathing human being.

Benny Newell: Why the fuck is it a death match? There are literally a million fucking stipulations. Why the fuck do we have to lose a Hall of Famer tonight? This is fucking insane, Joe. How is this even being allowed to happen?

Joe Hoffman: Well it’s no secret that Lee Best himself is very unhappy that this match is taking place, Benny. Unfortunately, there isn’t a lot that can be done— if these two want to end a life here tonight, it will be very hard to make them stop short of their goal. It’s been a bitter six month war between Michael and the Minister, who have previously feuded for the better part of a decade, and tonight may be the last time they ever face off.

Benny Newell: I don’t care if he has to assemble the entire fucking EPU and lock his kids into their own separate cells. STOP THIS. This is the dumbest fucking thing either of these two idiots have ever done, and I don’t want to… FUCK, PLEASE BE A FUCKING SWERVE!

Joe Hoffman: This is the final warning, ladies and gentlemen. This match is going to get graphic. At this time, commentary will go silent , as we present tonight’s main event without interruption. We’ll see you on the other side.

At the heart of Gen Pop, rabid fans are nearing a boiling point. Locked behind the cold steel bars of American’s most notorious prison, the weak of stomach didn’t buy tickets to tonight’s even– these are the diehard, day one fans of High Octane Wrestling, and a resounding ovation of screams and cheers explodes throughout the confined space as the HOV comes to life on the maniacal face of The Minister.

A single spotlight follows him, as he lumbers through the long corridor between the cells with a Santa-like sack slung over his back. Kael hums some kind of a low tune under his breath as he shambles along with his bag, before hoisting it off of his back and throwing it down in the center of the concrete. One by one, he begins pulling implements of destruction out of the bag– a sharpened machine, a baseball bat covered in barbed wire, and some kind of a toaster are the first items to spill out to the floor below.

MAX! MAX! MAX! MAX!

The Minister’s head shoots to the side on a swivel, his face contorting in confusion as the bulk of the building begins chanting his name. The wryest hint of a sinister smile crawls over his dry, twisted lips as he goes back to throwing weapons out of his giant burlap sack.

MAX! MAX! MAX! MAX!

The chants are damned near deafening, in a showing of respect for one of the cornerstones of High Octane Wrestling. Satisfied with the chaos of weaponry surrounding him, the Minister takes a step backward in his filthy white suit. It looks as though it hasn’t been cleaned since he first donned it before War Games, and the greasy material is matted with blood, sweat and dirt. A single fresh flower rests in the lapel, because if he’s going to meet God today, he wants to look the part.

MAX! MAX! MAX! MAX!

The smile on Max’s face turns slowly into a delighted sneer, as he looks down the barrel of the corridor in front of him. He straightens his tie, clearing his throat as the second man in tonight’s match slowly comes into view.

Michael Lee Best has arrived.

A pair of blue jeans and a tight confirmed tank top leave the HOW World Champion looking unusually lowkey tonight, as he steps out of the shadows and stares back at the eyes of his stepbrother. As soon as he comes into view, the crowd at Alcatraz suddenly seems to split into two distinct factions– one of them remains massively in support of Maximilian Kael, and the other begins screaming for Michael Best.

MAX! MAX! MAX! MAX!

MIKE! MIKE! MIKE! MIKE!

MAX! MAX! MAX! MAX!

MIKE! MIKE! MIKE! MIKE!

The HOW World Champion finishes taping up his right fist, throwing the rest of the roll of tape to one side as he slowly steps toward the center of the corridor. The Minister slowly removes the filth encrusted jacket from his shoulders, tossing it aside as he tugs at his suspender straps and makes his way to the center as well.

MAX! MAX! MAX! MAX!

MIKE! MIKE! MIKE! MIKE!

MAX! MAX! MAX! MAX!

MIKE! MIKE! MIKE! MIKE!

The two men finally step face to face, staring one another in the eyes for the first time since their destructive battle at No Remorse. Neither man appears to blink, as Michael blindly hands the HOW World Championship off to the referee on hand. The belly of Alcatraz is nearly reverberating from the sounds of the crowd, as they eagerly await the opening bell.

MAX! MAX! MAX! MAX!

MIKE! MIKE! MIKE! MIKE!

MAX! MAX! MAX! MAX!

MIKE! MIKE! MIKE! MIKE!

The referee is trying to explain the rules, but neither competitor can hear them over the roar of the crowd. It doesn’t matter anyway– both men know how this match ends. They each take a step closer, nearly forehead to forehead now, with the grim, expressionless face of Michael Best radically offset by the wide, terrifying smile of The Minister.

Neither man moves.

Neither man blinks.

Neither man breathes.

Until suddenly, the bell rings.

DING DING DING

The sound of the bell boils the frenzy in the crowd over, as fans literally begin shaking at the bars and trying to wrench them free from the cells. The rhythmic stomping of their feet almost sounds like war drums, as two brothers each wait for the other to make the first move.

*THUMP*

The fist of the Minister connects directly with the chest cavity of the HOW World Champion, as he wastes no time at all in his attempt to directly execute Michael Lee Best with the heart punch. Unfortunately, while it does stagger the champion backward, it doesn’t seem to kill him. Or particularly injure him, even. The Minister grunts, but it’s alright. He has a backup plan.

*CRACK!*

The crowd explodes as the thick metal skull of Max Kael collides with the center of Mike Best’s forehead, sending him straight to the cold concrete. The champion skitters backward, immediately curling into a defensive position as he tries to manage the reverberation in his brain.

The stomps grow louder, almost entrancing as a giddy Minister gives himself an excited little golf clap, stepping toward his downed stepbrother. He stares down at the HOW World Champion, cocking his head sideways and sticking out a mocking pouty lip.

Minister: That’s called a concussion.

Rearing back a leg, Max kicks the champion in the ribs with the tip of his shined up loafer— it’s the only part of his outfit that has been cleaned. The kick takes the air out of the Son of God, as Minister makes a “tsk tsk” sound with his tongue and takes a walk around the body of his opponent.

Minister: Get up.

Struggling to find his wind, Michael crawls toward a support post, trying to use it to pull himself back up.

Minister: I SAID GET UP!

With a wild right hand, Minister slaps against the side of Michael’s skull as he gets up to a knee. The champion recoils, but the sting of the slap seems to knock him back online— the Starmaker stands up to his feet, gritting his teeth as he tries to push through the stars he’s seeing.

The War Drums grow louder.

With a snarl, Michael Best lands a haymaker to the jaw of The Minister that elicits a snap of the head and a vicious chill of laughter from the challenger. He stops laughing as the second punch connects, staggering him backward. The razor metal teeth of The Minister shine under the ancient prison lighting, as the smile falls from his face and he beckons his brother to keep them coming.

SONS OF GOD!

SONS OF GOD!

SONS OF GOD!

SONS OF GOD!

Reaching into the pocket of his jeans, Michael Best looks to even the odds against his metal-headed opponent– he slips a pair of brass knuckles over his un-taped left fist, taking a big swing that lands in the center of Minister’s cheek! The crunch of metal on bone can practically be heard over the frenzied crowd, and the Minister howls out in pain on pure bodily instinct as he recoils, holding his face!

The champion doesn’t back down, following up with another strike to the side of the face– this one takes Kael to the ground, as Michael mounts on top of him like an animal. He brings down left hands with the brass knuckles, as Minister desperately covers up. Most of the strikes land against his forearms, damaging the limbs but protecting his face, and with a furious roar, the champion dismounts almost immediately, realizing that this isn’t going to be the way he wins it.

Throwing the brass knuckles away, Michael begins scouring the pile of weapons left behind by his opponent, eventually picking up the barbed wire bat. He turns toward Max, who is scampering up to his feet– the challenger lets a wheezing laugh fall out of him, as he begins shambling down the corridor, headed toward the ring at the end of the hall. The crowd gets even louder, as Max stops just being visible on the HOV, and actually comes into the view of the fans in attendance!

LET’S GO KA-EL!

LET’S GO KA-EL!

LET’S GO KA-EL!

Max saunters to ringside, looking around for something as his brother approaches in close pursuit. He stumbles around the side of the ring next to the guardrail, looking perplexed as he searches for whatever the next trick up his sleeve happens to be.

*CRACK!*

The business end of the barbed wire bat connects with the meat of the Minister’s back, knocking him forward onto the steel ring steps! His ribs connect with the corner of the metal, forcing the challenger to gasp for breath as the bat comes down on his back a second time. The razor sharp wire sticks into the back of The Minister’s wifebeater, tangling him up in the weapon as he turns sideways, trying to wrestle the baseball bat free. The duo tussle over the weapon, rolling around on the steps in a fight for supremacy, as now the other half of the crowd begin to show their ever growing allegiance.

LET’S GO KNEE-SUS!

LET’S GO KNEE-SUS!

LET’S GO KNEE-SUS!

With a stiff shove of his loafer, Minister sends Michael careening backward into the guardrail, staggering him just enough to gain an advantage. He snatches the baseball bat up off the concrete, sprinting forward toward the champion and diving into the air with the barbed wire aimed directly for the face of his brother! The wooden bat collides with the face of the champion, sending both men flipping over the guardrail and rolling dangerously close to the locked cells behind them!

Both men roll around on the floor, beat up from the collision with the concrete as fans try to reach outward from the cells and touch the fallen competitors. Minister, who took less damage than his opponent, is the first to rise to his feet– he stumbles along the cells, getting a few steps worth of a head start, before taking a running start for a decapitating Jawduster punt kick, looking to physically remove Mike Best’s head from his shoulders!

Shoving a security guard off of his seat, Max swipes a metal folding chair from behind the guardrail, brandishing it menacingly as he waits for his nemesis to rise to his feet. As the champion begins to push himself up to his knees, Kael doesn’t waste any time– he charges forward with the chair, swinging it low like a golf club and smashing the Son of God directly across the side of the head, spilling him sideways!

But he isn’t done.

Minister discards the chair with a cackle, kneeling down over the fallen champion and immediately railing away with a hard donkey punch to the back of his head. He follows it up with another one, and then another one immediately after that. The unprotected skull of Michael Best bounces off the concrete, as the master of the donkey punch shows off his proficiency– the fans in the nearby cells go crazy for the throwback maneuver, but Minister doesn’t seem to give a single fuck about their presence.

Not yet, anyway.

With the champion down for the count, The Minister has no qualms about making his way directly toward the end of the ringside area. He looks around again, finally finding the thing he’s been searching for this whole time. He eyes a button on the wall, his thin lips pursing into a chaotic grin as he slowly inches his finger toward the switch. He softly depresses the button, taking a deep breath, and letting out a long, wheezing laugh.

A buzzer sounds throughout Gen Pop, suddenly quieting the makeshift arena as the near-rioting fans suddenly try to figure out what the fuck just happens. There is a flickering of the overhead lights, and then the quiet stops. Alcatraz grows louder than ever, but this time they aren’t chanting any names– this is the sound of animal fucking chaos.

The doors of the cells slide open.

The fans are free.

What once sounded like war drums has become a stampede— the rushing of footsteps is as deafening as the fanatic screams as HOW’s most ruthless demographic pour out of their confinement, spilling out into the ring area and toppling over the guardrail like it was made of paper.

Minister looks beyond proud of himself, as the ring area immediately fills with drunken, raging wrestling fans. Back by the cells, several fans have helped Mike Best to his feet, narrowly saving him from being trampled to death. Other fans see that he’s receiving help, though, and suddenly a random fist flies into the back of the champion’s head. And then another.

And another.

One of the fans holding up the champion is struck in the side of the face with a glass bottle, laying him out in a spray of broken glass. His friends come to his defense, and an all out brawl begins between the fans, leaving the Son of God to retreat into one of the cells during the fray. Immediately, event security and a fully militarized EPU rush into the fray, trying to maintain some kind of order. They’re met with even more violence– these fans have been pent up in their cells, drinking and raging for hours, and in the peak emotion of a literal deathmatch, all hell has finally broken loose.

This is now a fucking prison riot.

Michael limps out of his cell, looking around for the Minister amidst the chaos– his brother has started scampering toward the doors. He scampers past the visitation center, barreling for the double doors that lead out of Gen Pop, and immediately Michael is in pursuit. He starts to weave his way through the rioting fans, trying not to get attacked in the process as he chases his brother down toward what he hopes is definitely not a trap in waiting.

Near the ring, a fan has taken a lighter to the side of the ring apron– the EPU descends on him, but it’s too late. The flammable apron sparks to life, sending a flurry of flames climbing up toward the canvas of the ring. Medics and emergency staff rush in with fire extinguishers, trying to put out the flames before they become a blaze, but it’s too hard to weave through the rioters and EPU to make it there fast enough.

General Population is on fire.

Looking over his shoulder, Max Kael sneers as he sees his brother gaining ground. He turns to meet his attacker, and now Minister is met with a flurry of fists as the two begin to brawl their way across the chaos of Gen Pop. Mike Best whips his brother into the guardrail, sending him careening back over to the concrete and closer to the ring– the ring that is literally on fucking fire right now. Minister scrambles back to his feet, looking both ways before shrugging his shoulders and rolling into the ring instead, inviting the champion to join him.

Michael stands outside the guardrail, staring back up at his stepbrother inside of a burning wrestling ring. On all sides of him, the havoc that Minister has wrought is a symphony of violence and screams— a member of the EPU is taken to the ground by a mob of fans, who proceed to strip away the military grade body armor that is protecting him.

It’s time to end this.

Climbing over the guardrail, Michael Lee Best picks up the barbed wire baseball bat on the way, bringing it with him to the ring. He climbs the steps, ducking slowly in the ring as the opposite end begins to burn even hotter— the flames are approaching, but all they’re looking at is each other.

Minister nods.

Michael nods back.

He swings the bat as hard as he can, cracking the Minister on the metal side of his skull. It isn’t enough to take him down, but the champion swings again.

And again.

And again.

There is a visible dent in the side of The Minister’s metal plated skull, as he drops to one knee. The flames flicker in the reflection of his mechanical eye, which burns even redder in the firelight.

Minister: Do it.

Turning his head to the side, The Minister exposes the unprotected side of his skull, offering it up to his brother in ritual sacrifice. The champion tenses up his hold on the baseball bat, taking a deep breath as he prepares to do what needs to be done.

Minister: DO IT! DO IT NOW! DO IT DO IT DO IT!

The champion swallows hard, swinging the bat with all of his might, but midway through the swing… he stops.

With the Minister’s head turned to the side, he can’t see the burning mechanical eye. He can’t see the dented metal skull. He can’t see the jagged metal teeth, or the maniacal grin on the face of his opponent. All he can see is the eye.

Max Kael’s eye.

Michael staggers backward, dropping the bat as his hands begin to shake.

He can’t do it.

He can’t kill his brother.

The Minister is braced for impact, but when it doesn’t come, the smile on his face only grows wider. He stands from his kneeling position, shaking his head at the HOW World Champion as he slowly stalks him toward the burning side of the ring.

Minister: Too slow!.

*CRACK!*

Minister: Ouch, that’s gonna affect your readability heh-heh!

The metal plate collides with the bridge of Michael Best’s nose, instantly breaking it where he stands and knocking the HOW World Champion to the canvas. The flames are creeping toward the Hall of Famers as Max Kael mounts his brother, grabbing a handful of the back of his hair and holding it off the ground. He brings the metal skull down again, browbeating MIchael Best with a second headbutt to the middle of the face.

And another.

And another.

….and another.

The face of Michael Lee Best is a mask of mangled crimson, as Max releases his head and lets it fall lifelessly to the canvas. Not even waiting for the referee, the Minister leans in and checks the pulse of his opponent.

He can’t feel a heartbeat.

Jumping to his feet, The Minister allows himself a moment to celebrate, cackling to himself as he grabs the motionless body of his brother by the arm and begins to drag him out of the ring. He pulls him under the ropes, letting him crash against the ring steps as he continues to move him toward the infirmary. The double doors loom just ahead, as some of the rioters see what has happened and stop in their tracks. Slowly but surely, they begin to tag along– they forget about the brutality at ringside, as Max Kael seemingly drags the corpse of his brother to the finish line.

An army of fans follow behind, several of them holding open the double doors as Max Kael whistles to no one, not even looking back at the lifeless body of the nine time HOW World Champion as he drags it behind him.

No swerves. No loopholes.

Somebody dies.

The finishing line of the infirmary awaits, as The Minister begins to tire. His old bones are exhausted, and he doubles back to grab both of Michael’s arms as he drags him the rest of the way. The fans are silent as Max literally gets one of his brother’s hands over the line, literally just far enough to force Rick Stevens to check for a pulse.

The referee leans in, putting his fingers to the carotid artery of Michael Lee Best. Rick Stevens looks up at Max Kael with wide eyes, shaking his head.

Minister looked down at Mike, discarding Mike’s body to the side as he held his hands up, a broad, bloodied smile stretch across his face.

Minister: He’s dead, it’s ove-

But Rick Stevens looks confused, as he once again shakes his head… no.

Minister: ..wait..

Before he entirely realizes what has happened, The Minister is dropped to a kneel as the boot of Michael Best connects with the back of Kael’s knee. The champion charges in from the side, smashing his knee into the human side of the Minister’s head with I KNEED A HERO! Minister goes hard, and immediately Michael Best makes a pinfall attempt. He hooks the leg of his brother, but obviously Stevens won’t count it.

Mike Best: Count the fucking pin, Rick.

Shrugging, Rick Stevens doesn’t know what to tell him. The match can’t end that way. There is fire in Michael’s eyes, as he repeats it again. Louder. Angrier.

Mike Best: Count it. Count the fucking pin. NOW! END IT, STEVENS!

The Minister makes no show of trying to kick out, understanding the depressing futility of the gesture. He begins to laugh beneath his opponent, realizing that his brother sincerely can’t do it. He doesn’t have it in him. He will not kill the Minister, because he will not kill Max Kael.

His face a blank canvas, Michael is realizing it too– he softly stands up from the body of The Minister, shaking his head and backing up toward the back wall of the infirmary. He swallows hard, his eyes growing misty as he realizes that there is no way out of this match. No going back now. No changing the past, and no preventing the future.

No swerves. No loopholes. Somebody dies.

Mike Best: Please. We don’t have to do this.

Slowly, The Minister climbs up off of the concrete, feeling around at the dent in his metal skull and dusting off his filthy white slacks. He pulls down the straps of his suspenders, cracking his knuckles as he begins to stalk toward the champion. Michael backs up as far as he can do– the far wall of the infirmary, as he backs into an ancient looking IV stand. His head bashes into the protruding rod that used to hold the drip bag, as he realizes that there is nowhere left to run.

Mike Best: Come on, Max. I know you’re in there. You’re stronger than he is. Come on, Max. Come on. Please, Max. Don’t make me do this.

His words fall on deaf ears, as The Minister shakes his head. He almost looks to pity his stepbrother, but not in any sort of way that will bring mercy. He looks at him as though he’s a wounded animal.

And there is only one mercy for a wounded animal.

The assembled crowd has poured into the infirmary to watch the final moments of one of these wrestler’s lives– The Minister grabs hold of the front of Michael’s shirt, getting so close to his face that his brother can smell the rancid breath from behind his jagged metal teeth.

Mike Best: Max. It’s me. It’s your brother, alright? I fucked up. I fucked up so much, man. This is all my fault, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry, alright? Please don’t let this by how it ends. Please let me help you. Please help me, so that I can help you. Fuck, Max. Please.

The Minister grunts, breathing heavily as he seemingly is forced to pause for a moment.

Mike Best: Please, Max. I love you. Please come back.

The red burning eye of the Minister begins to flicker, and a sound escapes his throat as though something is flaying him from the inside. The red flickers again, before suddenly sparking a wild blue hue. The expression on his face softens, and a deep breath escapes Michael Lee Best as he looks upon the real face of his brother for the first time in almost a year.

Mike Best: M-Max?

A weak smile appears over the face of the blue eyed Max Kael, as his grip loosens on the front of Michael’s shirt. The room is in utter silence, as the two men stare one another in the eyes.

Max Kael:..sorry..

The eye flickers for a moment back to red, Minister’s face contorted in rage and confusion before it flashes back to blue. Howling with rage, the Minister grabs Mike’s head, looking to ram his head into a stand of rusted old medical equipment.

Minister: DIE!

His body froze, once again, that red eye flicking blue, Max’s strange blue eye seeing clearly for the first time in months. He releases Mike’s head, pushing himself away as the Minister’s face burns red with rage, the chance to kill Mike ripped from him.

Minister: DIE!

#97red filled the mechanical eye again as he charged forward, the last vestiges of Max Kael brushed away by the madness of the Minister. It is all the time the champion needs as he recoils, narrowly getting his face out of the way, and The Minister’s headbutt makes contact with the rusty old IV stand instead, smashing him eye-first into the protruding arm mechanism. There is a terrible crunching of mechanical grinding, followed by the horrible cacophony of something that sounds like half laughter, and half screaming. The metal implement carries fully through to the back of The Minister’s skull, skewering him on the end of the IV stand.

Minister: ..oh.. heh..heh..he-..

Grabbing the metal rod that has shoved its way through his eye and out the back of his head the Minister pulled himself free, black, oozing blood pouring out of his socket as he stumbled and turned to look at a horrified Mike Best. A smile was stretched across his face as he sank to his knees. The remainder of his life drained from his last eye, the fury, the anger, all of it vanished as he stared up at Mike before collapsing fast first on the ground.

In a rush, referee Rick Stevens slides in to check the pulse of the Minister, as EMTs show up on the scene to try to revive him. The bell is called for, as a dead-eyed Michael Lee Best drops to his knees, staring helplessly and hollowly at the body of his brother on the floor.

DING DING DING

Medical workers swarm the body of the HOW Hall of Famer, desperately trying to do something to bring him back to life, but it would seem that the damage is already done. The room is quiet, as Michael Best sits silently next to the body of Maximilian Kael, reaching out and holding onto his hand. The tears roll unabashedly down his face as he squeezes Max’s hand, desperately wishing that he’d feel him squeeze back.

No serves. No loopholes.

Maximilian Wilhelm Kael is dead.

Long Live the King.

Rumble at the Rock comes to an end.