- Event Type: weekly
The HOTv logo gives way and we cut inside The Best Arena here in Chicago Illinois for the 50th Refueled this era.
We immediately cut to the Hall of Fame announce team of Joe Benny and Big Buff Benny Newell.
Joe Hoffman: Welcome everyone to another Refueled brought to you by High Octane Television. Tonight we begin the second round of the Denucci Cup and we will end the night with the first title defense of 2021 as Michael Lee Best defends the World Championship against newly signed RAH!
Benny Newell: Well as much as I would like to sit here and bash RAH….I cannot do it. I am all in on a fresh start here in 2021 and with everyone literally 0-0 on the match standings….why not show the fucking world that EVERYONE has a fucking shot at the crown.
Joe Hoffman: Great point Benny. I cannot believe I said that….anyway……tonight the focus will not doubt be on the four men that were granted a bye in this tournament and they have to be the betting favorites in terms of being well rested and healthy.
Benny Newell: So you are telling me that Jason Cashe, Jatt Starr, Sutler Kael and Hudson Hughes are all going to win? Let me clock the fuck out now and head to the Hilton.
Joe Hoffman: Not so fast there Benny. The flip side of that coin is that the men that they are facing have already been in the octagon and will be somewhat battle tested and might have the upperhand due to that.
Benny Newell: So you are saying that Steve Solex, Steve Harrison, Dan Ryan and Clay Byrd are all going to win? Fuck it…..let me head backstage and help Lee out with his seeing eye bitches.
Joe Hoffman: Seeing as we DO NOT get paid by the hour I am all with you taking an early night Benny. Would allow me to focus squarely on the action tonight.
Benny Newell: Not a fucking chance in the world Joe.
Joe Hoffman: Well with that said lets head to the ring as it is time for our first fight of the evening…..Clay Byrd who defeated HOW Hall of Famer and current Tag Team Champion John Sektor, squares up against the man that was granted a first round bye and has a ton of hype behind him….Hudson Hughes.
Benny Newell: Ah…small fish……big pond….we know how this will play out.
The action cuts down to ringside where we see the HOFC ring is all lit up as Bryan McVay begins the introductions for the two men.
Senior HOW referee Matt Boettcher signals for the bell and our first fight of the evening kicks off. The 6’7” 295 pounder from Texas, Clay Byrd, quickly jumps on the offensive on the overly hyped Hudson Hughes with a simple shoulder tackle. From there we see a variety of punches, kicks and stomps as the big man is literally toying with Hughes. A couple suplexes later and the outcome is all but determined as Hughes is almost out on his feet. There is a small glimmer of hope for Hughes as he is able to counter with some punches of his own but the hope is squashed with a quick duck under followed by a gut wrench powerbomb. Byrd then lines up Hughes and waits for the man to get up to his knees and as he does Byrd rushes the man and nails him with his Texas Lariat clothesline finisher.
Boettcher has no choice but to signal for the bell as Hughes is knocked out cold.
Bryan McVay: Winner of the fight via knockout in the first round…..CLAAAAAAAAAYYYY BYYYYYYRRRRRDDDDD!!!
The Chicago crowd gives a Byrd a polite applause as its clear they are still a little bitter about Byrd getting the win over Best Alliance member John Sektor previously.
The action cuts away as medics rush in on Hughes who is still out cold.
Strutting proudly through the backstage area of the Best Arena was the cocksured youth Sutler Reynolds-Kael, the Son of Scions. Dressed in his wrestling gear with a pair of Dan Ryan Edition sunglasses and his leather jacket he looks like a low level boss from a Streets of Rage game, a reference that Sutler himself would not understand.
Suddenly he pauses, the small grin on his face stretching into a pearly white smile as he apparently recognizes someone.
SRK: Well, well, well Danny-Boy!
Sutler saddled up, his thumbs hooking into his tights as he swung his legs to either side in an exaggerated manner reminiscent of a cowboy’s swagger. Dan Ryan stood a full six inches taller than his younger opponent yet despite that Sutler showed little fear or concern.
SRK: I pulled a few strings for you, buddy, and after you lose I’ve got a nice ice bath set up to help your recovery. No need to thank me, it’s the least I can do for you what with you being nice enough to put me over tonight.
Dan looks down at Sutler, expression stoic and unmoving, makes no movement, says nothing.
SRK: Hello? You in there? Dan speak now. Fire bad? Ooga Booga?
Sutler waves his hand in Dan’s face, which is also ignored, then slumps his shoulders slightly.
SRK: You haven’t suffered some sort of brain meat spoilage, have you? Right before we go to the cage? Well I guess the nice thing is you don’t have to be smart to put your shoulders to the mat. It’s not gonna be nearly as fun if you spend half the time drooling, FrankenRyan?
Sutler pauses briefly, then raises a hand to his chin.
SRK: At the same time, a win is a win, even if it is slapping around an intellectual diminutive mountain of meat. It must take a huge pair of depends to keep this high stack of bullshit inside you, it’s a miracle I can’t see the wings, where do you hide them?!
Sutler lets his jaw drop slightly as he looks up at the big man questioningly, but he still gets no response. Ryan just looks down at him, not frowning, not smiling, just staring.
SRK: Oh I bet I know what it is… I bet another kid of yours died last night and you’re still upset. Well I can certainly understand — CRACK!
Dan Ryan swings a big right hand and slaps Sutler Reynolds-Kael across the face with enough force to knock him off-balance and enough speed to catch Sutler completely off guard. The so called Son of Scions staggers back, the red shape of Dan’s hand forming on the right cheek of his face along with a look of fearful alarm. The Dan Ryan sunglasses fly from Sutler’s face, smashing into pieces against the wall as he fearfully stares up at Dan Ryan.
SRK:..w…what? YOU SLAPPED ME?!
Sutler raises back up, feigns an attack, then blurts out…
SRK: MY GRANDFATHER WILL HEAR ABOUT THIS!!!
He immediately spins around on his heels and scampers away, the mulling sound of perhaps crying heard.
Ryan watches him go, following him as he sprints down the hall. As he turns a corner Sutler can be seen continuing to beat his retreat, turning to look at Dan before he slams into a wall.
Dan smiles as we fade away to our first commercial break.
Back live from commercial and Bryan McVay is wrapping up the introductions for our next two men to square off…..Best Alliance member Steve Solex and newcomer Jason Cashe.
The 6’0 230lb Jason Cashe is able to gain the early advantage with some straight jabs and boxing maneuvers. Cashe is able to continue to use Solex’s aggression against him for the duration of the first round as he scores some big damage with a tiger suplex and running cannonball that busts Solex open to end the first round as steel mesh will always win versus flesh. The five minute round ends with Cashe, a little winded, but in high spirits as he stares down Solex who is being attended to by medics to close his head wound.
The second round starts out with Cashe with more boxing moves but Solex is ready for it and is able to sidestab a jab and immediately duck underneath and nail a quick belly to belly suplex. This leads to the next few minutes of Solex looking to bust open Cashe. It is clear that the veterans is going for an eye for an eye scenario. Solex is able to pin Cashe against the cage and begins grinding his forearm across the face of Cashe and finally the blood begins to flow. The two men end the second round with a flurry of right hands before Boettcher signals for the end of the second round.
The crowd is clearly behind Solex as the third round starts and the Best Alliance member and Cashe continue to brawl across the octagon. The finish comes out of nowhere as Solex nails his Solexecution stunner move and the force of the blow, coupled with all the previous headshots, see’s the end of the fight come as Cashe is unable to answer the call from Boettcher.
Bryan McVay: Winner of the match by TKO in the third round….STEVE SOLLLLLLEEEXXXXXXXXX!!!!!
Our scene transitions to one of the long winding hallways of The Best Arena. Seated atop a cargo crate are Teddy Palmer and Zeb Martin, a comfortable distance between the budding friends. The two men are conversing with one another, and we join them mid conversation.
Zeb Martin: Man, cain’t say sorry enuff…
Teddy Palmer: Water under the bridge. Not my first time going to jail. Probably not the last…
Teddy pats Zeb on the shoulder in a ‘there there’ type of way, his snicker half joking, half serious. While doing so, the click clack of heels can be heard in the distance. Step by step, they get louder and louder.
Zeb Martin: Still didn’t thank she’d be capable uh pullin’ that mess. I mean, I know she’s smarter’n I am, but reckon that means, too.
Teddy Palmer: Honestly, I’m not even mad. Impressed more than anything. Plus I got a little one on one with Lindz…
Zeb Martin: You paid her back fer the bail yet?
Teddy Palmer: Not yet. I’m sure we’ll work out some sort of payment plan.
Teddy winks. Zeb shakes his head no, the subtle movement screaming ‘in your dreams’.
Zeb Martin: Only plan she’s go’n be interested in is the one where all of it hits ‘er Venmo at once.
Teddy Palmer: …yeah…
Teddy’s fantasy is crushed, bringing him back to reality. Zeb redirects his buddy back to the issue at hand.
Zeb Martin: Back to my lil’ brat of uh sister, though. She needs to be taught not tuh stick her hand ‘round a hornet’s nest.
Teddy Palmer: Abso-fuckin-lutely. Admiration aside, the games have just begun. Let’s see how funny SHE finds it being on the wrong side of the law.
Zeb Martin: She ain’t even go’n see it comin’!
Teddy Palmer: Make the call, Zeb. Round Two is on!
On cue with the mention of Round Two, Blaire Moise enters the frame, microphone in hand. Ready to jump right in to where she believes it to be her cue, she’s met with Ted’s pointer indicating ‘one moment Blaire Bear’. She looks less than enthused.
Teddy Palmer: Put it on speakerphone.
Teddy excitedly makes his request, Zeb kindly obliges before placing his phone down between the two. The outgoing call rings and rings, Ted and Zeb doing their best to muffle their stoney macaroni like giggles. When the call connects, their eyes lock onto each other, both confidently nodding.
Kendra Collier: What yew want?
Teddy and Zeb proceed to give each other an array of baseball type signals, shushing one another in the process. After a brief moment of silence, Teddy clears his throat in preparation of altering his voice. Zeb clasps one of his big country paws over his mouth, forcibly containing his laughter.
Let the games begin.
Teddy Palmer: May I please speak with a Miss Kendra Collier?
Kendra Collier: Ugh…speakin’.
Teddy Palmer: This is Ted…ric, a government official with the CRA.
Kendra Collier: Tedric? Really?
Teddy Palmer: It’s Greek. Look it up. Anyways, I’m calling on behalf of the CRA to inform you a lawsuit has been filed against your social insurance number.
Kendra Collier: Mmmhmm. That right?
Teddy Palmer: Unfortunately so. This is a very urgent matter ma’am, and needs to be addressed immediately.
Kendra Collier: Sounds like it is…
Teddy Palmer: I hate to employ scare tactics, but I’m obligated to inform you that If found guilty, you could face up to three years in a Federal Penitentiary.
Kendra Collier: Three years? Oh dang, this’s serious. I’d miss my dang graduation. Quick question fer ya, Tedric. What’m I ‘cused of?
Teddy Palmer: In legal terms…regarding your lawsuit…you’ve been accused of…
As Teddy stumbles over his words, not adequately prepared for his charade, a lightbulb goes off in Zebs head. He snaps his fingers, points at Ted, and leans down towards the phone.
Zeb Martin: Fraud!
Kendra Collier: Fraud! Ohhhhhhhhh nooooooooooo. Hey Tedric, are you okay? You sounded purty…southern…jus’ then.
Teddy Palmer: Ah yeah, of course. I just choked on…uhm…
Zeb Martin: My chewin’ tuhbacca!
Teddy looks at Zeb, confused that a) he couldn’t come up with something and b) that chewing tobacco was Zeb’s first instinct. Ted shakes his head, his expression reading ‘what the fuck?’ Zeb, however, nods approvingly, holding up the ‘okay’ sign to indicate to Ted it’s ‘okay’. Kendra, on the other hand, can be heard sighing on her end of the call.
Kendra Collier: You two are damn dumb.
Teddy Palmer: I assure you we…I am not. I suggest reconsidering that attitude ma’am.
Kendra Collier: Ted, oh pretty, but simple Ted. Real pathetic, boy.
Teddy Palmer: I have no idea what you’re talking about.
Kendra Collier: Well, lemme break it down for ya. First, we got social s’curity numbers in America.
Ted mumbles ‘shit’. Zeb mumbles ‘shoot’.
Kendra Collier: Second, the CRA ain’t got no jurisdiction here.
Double Shit. Double Shoot. Double surprised that Kendra actually pronounced the word “jurisdiction” correctly with her drawl.
Kendra Collier: And lastly, and perhaps the DUMBEST part uh this whole thang: you called from Zeb’s cell you moron! It came up on my phone as “BUBBA.” You gonna have ta be a lot sharper than this…
Teddy Palmer: Well…shit…
Kendra Collier: How’s about yew focus on Scottywood. And Zeb, there’s a world uh hurt waitin’ fer you in Comer.
Teddy Palmer & Zeb Martin: Yes Kendra…
CLICK!
Teddy and Zeb have traded their confident gaze for defeated expressions. In Zebs case, a hint of fear resides in his eyes, knowing very well something terrifying awaits him back in Georgia. After a brief silence, Ted elects to break it.
Teddy Palmer: I’d hate to be you…
Zeb Martin: THAT’S yer go to? You know how mean she kin be?
Teddy Palmer: Do…I…SHE SENT ME TO JAIL!
Blaire Moise: Heeeeelllooooooo?!
Teddy and Zeb turn their attention to Blaire, who had been waiting patiently. Key word being had, and now she’s had just about enough. Her foot taps feverishly on the concrete floor, and she shrugs her shoulders at the two ‘grown’ men.
Blaire Moise: How about some thoughts on Round Two? Round Two of the DeNucci Cup, that is. Not your prank war with some teenage girl.
Teddy Palmer: Fair enough, I suppose. For starters, I hope it goes better than this did. Talk about a disaster.
Zeb Martin: Ain’t no lie there…
Blaire Moise: Do you think that maybe, just maybe, you should be taking this a little bit more seriously?
Teddy Palmer: Who says I’m not? I’m actually offended you’d insinuate otherwise. Just because I choose to be loose goosey and easy going rather than stressing every waking moment about the brutality this tournament brings, doesn’t mean I don’t take it seriously. I’m quite aware of the threat that awaits me in the form of Scott Woodson. I’m no idiot, ma’am.
Blaire Moise: Not an idiot? You literally overlooked Caller ID two minutes ago.
Teddy Palmer: A simple oversight. Nobody’s perfect. And hey, who’s focusing about the ‘wrong’ Round Two now?
Zeb Martin: I mean, she ain’t wrong. We’re purty stupid fer forgettin’ ‘bout that. Now I’m dead if I go back home.
Teddy Palmer: A SIMPLE OVERSIGHT. It definitely would have worked if she were like, 80 years older. Anywho, I’m not blind to what Woody has done or is capable of doing. I’m preparing, like I should be. I’ll be ready, like I should be. I’m stepping in that cage with intentions of beating him at his own game.
Blaire Moise: And what ‘game’ would that be?
Teddy Palmer: You see Blaire, due to recent events…well…I’m a changed man. I’ve been introduced to a more rugged…belligerent…violent way of life. Some call it…Hardcore. Next week, the ‘Artiste’ of said name will meet the ‘Inmate’ of said name.
Zeb Martin: Jail changed ya, Ted? Yew were only in the clink fer like thirty minutes.
Teddy Palmer: YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT IT WAS LIKE!
Blaire Moise: And I think this is where we call it…
Teddy Palmer: Wait!
Blaire Moise: What?
Teddy Palmer: Star – Six – Nine hides your caller ID, right?
Blaire doesn’t even consider answering the question, happily leaving Ted and Zeb behind, click clacking herself away as quickly as possible. Teddy pulls his phone out, fiddling around with the device. Zeb looks less than enthused, still wondering what the fifteen year old menace has in store for him back home.
Fade to commercial….
Back live from commercial and it time for our next fight where Sutler Kael and Dan Ryan are in the octagon ready for their fight.
The HOV comes to life and we see a replay of the interaction between the two men earlier in the night when Dan Ryan slapped Sutler back to the womb.
Back in the octagon Matt Boettcher signals for the bell and we are off and running. The 6’1 187lb HOW rookie tries to use his speed and quickness to his advantage but he is quickly caught by the 6’7” 305lb technical powerhouse with a powerful spinebuster in the middle of the cage. For the next few minutes Dan uses his size and strength to try and keep the young Kael grounded. At the end of the round Kael is able to finally get some offense in via a nasty chopblock followed up by a wicked knee strike before the bell sounds for the end of the first five minute round.
The second round starts with Dan Ryan trying to work out the feeling in his left knee that was hit with the chop block to end the first round and the quickness of Kael keeps the big man at bay. Kael is able to sidestep several big moves from Ryan and utilize his fast hands to nail Ryan with several Jui-Jitsu open palm strikes. Kael thinks he has the fight won when he nails Ryan with a spinning forearm smash but the big man is able to get to his feet just before the second round ends. The round was a clear win by Kael heading into the third.
The final round of the fight starts with Sutler trying once again to gain the upper hand with his speed and one super kick later and we see Ryan down on the canvas……but not totally out. The big Texan is able to rise up from the canvas and as Sutler goes for another running knee he is caught and tossed violently across the ring with an overhead belly to belly suplex. The next couple minutes Ryan is able to stay on top of Kael with several running clotheslines and gorilla press slam in the middle of the octagon.
The finish of the match comes as we see Kael go for another desperation chop block but Ryan sees it coming and is able to sidestep and nail Kael with a jumping DDT. A few moments later and the match ends as Ryan nails Sutler with his Hammer of GoD finisher and Kael is unable to answer the call.
Bryan McVay: Winner of the fight via knockout in the third round Daaaaannnnn Ryyaaaaaannnnn!!!!!
The crowd is booing loudly as Dan Ryan sneers at Sutler as he exits the octagon.
We cut to backstage where former HOW Tag Team Champions, Mikey Unlikely and Jesse Fredricks Kendrix, The Hollywood Bruvs enter the building. With a gym bag slung over each of their shoulders they come through a large set of double doors. Talking or strategizing, the pair head for the locker rooms. Their words cannot be made out as they walk past the camera.
Brian Bare, one of HOW’s top interviewers stops the pair to ask a few questions.
Mikey Unlikely: Listen BB, we have something to say tonight for sure, The Hollywood Bruvs didn’t show up for nothing, but as you can see we’re not quite rea….
His sentence is cut off, but not by the words of his tag team partner, not by the words of Brian Bare, but by the flying mass of bodies that have just entered our frames. WHACK! POW! BOOM! KA-POW! There are no “Batman” style graphics flooding the screen. This is a blindside attack!
Jatt Starr rushes into the frame. The Ruler of Jattlantis levels Mikey Unlikely with Mister Whacky. Before Jesse Kendrix has the opportunity to retaliate against the Hero of Jattlanta, Sektor charges him, nailing him with, of all things, a barbed wire cricket bat, across the back. Kendrick drops to a knee and Sektor delivers a crushing blow against the back of Kendrick’s head. The cricket bat snaps at the handle as blood begins to trickle down from multiple areas of Kendrick’s head.
Meanwhile, the Jattinum Standard begins wailing on Mikey Unlikely with the weighted steel head of Mister Whacky, repeatedly striking him on the back, arms, and shoulders as Brian Bare, who initially was frozen in place (and may or may not have soiled himself) cowardly begins slinking away.
Sektor: Trade?
Jatt Starr: Was Mendoza resurrected by M’rracles’ necromantic fecal solution as a way to distract Bobbi Jo Sweetlps from turning off the carbon-widgosponder during the rescue of CIA Director Myst?
Sektor stares blankly at Jatt Starr.
Jatt Starr: Yes! Did you not read my screenplay?
Sektor ignores Jatt’s question and proceeds to kick Mikey Unlikley in the head. Jatt Starr yells “WHACK” as he brings down the steel head of Mister Whacky onto Kendrick’s back. Sektor mounts Mikey Unlikely and with the hot burning rage of a thousand suns begins pounding on him. Jatt Starr opens the double doors
Moments later, Hugo Scorpio arrives in front of the doors, lugging a dumpster. Hugo Scorpio stops in front of the doors and opens the dumpster.
Jatt Starr: Did you fill it?
Hugo Scorpio: I emptied the trash of six concession stands, two women’s restrooms, four men’s restrooms, and some drunk guy threw up in it. And I think I saw some lady toss in a dirty diaper as she was entering the arena.
Jatt Starr: Capital!
The LSD Champion rolls up Kendrick’s sleeve, pulls out a black marker and writes “OBSOLETE” on Kendrick’s arm followed by his John Hancock. Hugo helps pull up Kendrick and they hoist him into the dumpster.
Sektor has finally stopped tenderizing Mikey’s head with his fists, Mikey is busted open above the eye. Jatt Starr approaches Sektor who holds up a hand to stop him.
Sektor: I can handle this mierda.
Sektor pulls up Mikey Unlikey and places him in fireman’s carry. Jatt Starr stops Sektor just outside the doors and proceeds to write “IRRELEVANT” on Mikey’s forehead and then signs his name, rather sloppily, on his cheek. Sektor whacks Mikey’s head against the side of the dumpster before unceremoniously dropping him into the dumpster and violently slams the lid.
Sektor: Get these motherfuckers out of here.
Jatt Starr: As Brannigan O’Sexchap would say “They might talk trash, but we’re the ones taking out the garbage”.
Sektor: Who the fuck is that?
Jatt Starr: The hero of my sci-fi epic screenplay which you have clearly not read yet.
Sektor can only shake his head as Hugo begins pushing the dumpster away from the doors. Jatt Starr follows his partner back inside the arena as the scene ends.
The scene cuts to backstage as Conor Fuse stands in front of a table with purple table cloth and his numerous power-ups laid out for him to see. There’s a purple question mark box, filled with (legal) mushrooms, a tiny “fire” flower in a pot, a pair of Playboy looking bunny ears, what seems to be a dead raccoon and a can of silver paint Conor has apparently been using recently. Fuse looks concerned, hand on his chin, thinking deeply while waving back and forth. He reaches out for the bunny ears but then shakes his head no. He looks at the question mark box and pauses… but ultimately shakes his head no. The Vintage speaks to himself.
Conor Fuse: I’ll have to use the can of paint, there’s no question there. But what else? Hmmm, what else?
Conor continues to scan the table, like the other items aren’t going to do it for him and something else may magically appear in their places.
Conor Fuse: Mike Best, the Ultimate Boss. Undefeatable. Why even try? You can play a different game next week, Conor. There’s no shame in throwing in the controller, not playing this one. It’s too hard. I mean, sure, you’re a gamer, a great gamer. But this world? Man, I just want to hang out with Mike, have some popcorn and we marathon The Last of Us or something. Hmmmm…
Benny Newell: This kid, this dumbass kid. NOTHING is going to save you from Mike Best fucking destroying this punk Fuse in the middle of the ring.
Finally, putting an end to Conor’s “intense reflection”, High Flyer appears across the hall, looking much like he did a week before. Head down, dressed in street clothes, carrying a duffle bag. It looks like The Lunatic is making his way into the Best Arena for the first time tonight, even though the show is more than halfway over.
The Vintage notices Jack Harmen. It doesn’t look like The Lunatic wants to be bothered.
Benny Newell: That idiot Flyer is showing more urgency than he has throughout his entire stay here. He’s not even booked tonight. Fucking loser!
Conor takes a deep breath. Before Flyer is completely out of sight, Fuse pumps himself up.
Conor Fuse: [Quietly] Well, he’s not Mike… [shouting] Hey, hey Mr. High Flyer!
The Friendly Neighborhood Lunatic stops in his tracks.
Conor Fuse: Maybe you can help me! You see, I’m facing Mr. Mike Best next week in the Street Fighter tournament. He’s gonna kill me so many times, I might not have any Lives left, if you can believe that!
Flyer stares back at Conor from across the hall. The vet doesn’t say or do anything… he just blankly looks.
Conor Fuse: I have power-ups but nothing that’s gonna work well. I’ll use my silver paint, of course, so I can create this fake image that I’m ‘just like everyone else’ and can trash talk like a… hmmm… ummm… well, hey, I thought maybe you could help me out? I know things haven’t been going great for you in this game recently, either. I’ve fallen on hard times. Sure, I scraped by Mr. Hollywood but Jatt Moto kicked my ass at Rumble at the Rock a few weeks back!
Benny Newell: Jesus Christ.
Conor runs a hand across the side of his head. It’s like he doesn’t remember ICONIC at all.
High Flyer: You want a tip about Mike Best? Even if you win, you’re gonna lose.
Flyer walks away as Conor nervously laughs to himself. However, Flyer turns back around and just slumps his shoulders in empathy. He starts slowly walking to Conor as he speak.
High Flyer: Listen, Mike Best may be a God here, but he’s still a man. He’s beatable. And you? You came in here with all kinds of fire, undefeated, all that… Plus you got all that video game shit. You’ll be fine. So… WHEN you do beat him…
Flyer pats Conor once on the shoulder.
High Flyer: Crush his windpipe after. For all our sakes.
Flyer smiles, cheery and friendly, before turning and walking away.
At first, Conor seems spellbound the legendary Flyer spoke to him. Then reality sets in.
Fuse reaches for the silver paint can and holds it closely.
Conor Fuse: Haha, I’m gonna get killed…
We head to commercial break….
Back live from commercial break and the crowd is on their feet cheering madly for the original HOW Hall of Famer and current LSD and Tag Team Champion AND member of the original and current Best Alliance…….Jatt Starr.
Across from Starr the 6’4” 245lb technician from Fairfax Virginia smirking as Bryan McVay finishes his introductions. The crowd is wildly behind Jatt as the bell rings and our final HOFC fight of the evening begins.
Both men spend the first couple minutes feeling each other out as its obvious neither man wants to make a mistake and are looking for the smallest of margins to gain the upper hand. They finally lock up and the original Hall of Famer quickly nails Harrison with a kick to the left knee that sends Harrison down. From there Jatt remains on the offensive with various punches and kicks and focuses all his energy on the knee of Harrison….no doubt trying to set up for his Jattaclysm Texas cloverleaf finisher. The first round ends with Jatt nailing Steve with a kneebreaker and the man has to hobble back to his corner in obvious pain.
The second round begins much like the first began and Jatt focuses in on the knee of Harrison. He is able to lock in a standing leg lock and just when Harrison looks to be gaining the upper hand, Starr is able to executre a perfect dropkick to send the man back down the canvas. The round literally ends with Jatt having a single leg crab locked in on the left knee of Harrison.
The third round sees a desperate Harrison start with a brutal eye poke followed up by a low blow to knock Starr down to the canvas. Harrison then pulls the hair of Starr to bring him fully down to the mat and begins focusing in on the head and neck region of the LSD Champion. Harrison remains on the offensive for most of the third round as he executes several variations of suplexes….and again focuses in on the head and neck of Starr.
As we hit the last minute of the third round the match finally comes to an end as Jatt is able to lock in his Falling Starr move. He looks to drop Harrison down with his Unprettier finisher but Harrison is able to reverse it and plant Jatt with a DDT…doing more damage to the man’s head. One knee trigger to the back of the head of Starr later and Harrison is able to knock the man out with his Enlightment move.
Bryan McVay: Winner of the match via knockout in the third round…..STEEEVE HARRRRRISSSSONNNN!!!
The crowd boos unmercifully as Harrison quickly staggers out of the octagon…shocked at his own win via desperation……..knowing full well that he just escaped.
Joe Hoffman: All right, let’s go backstage where Blaire Moise will speak with the challenger in tonight’s HOW World title match.
Benny Newell: RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! (In normal voice) Mike’s still going to kill him.
Cut to what appears to be a small room inside the Best Arena. No windows. The door is closed. It’s just Blaire and Rah. It’s seems after Blaire’s first attempt at interviewing Rah two weeks ago got derailed by the selfie-taking, ex-sorority sisters in his entourage and then last week’s interview went off the rails when the Sunshine God caught a view of Lindsay Troy and decided he needed to make her a part of his entourage with predictably disastrous results, Blaire wasn’t taking any chances with her third attempt- especially with what was at stake on Rah’s first match back in HOW.
For his part, Rah seems a little uncomfortable with the surroundings.
Rah: This seems a little too intimate. Rah may be spoken for later on tonight if you know what Rah means.
Blaire Moise: Yeah, yeah. We heard all about it. Look, tonight’s a big night for you.
Rah: Yes. Yes. To bed a beauty like Dawn McGill – though she’s no Lindsay Troy mind you but she is still most acceptable – would be a big feather in Rah’s-
And it takes a whopping fifteen seconds for Blaire to become annoyed.
Blaire Moise: The match?
Rah: Huh?
The HOW World Title match tonight against Michael Lee Best?
Rah: Oh yes.
Blaire Moise: The match that you have to win before you get all that other extracurricular stuff it appears you’ve already planned for after the match.
Rah: Yes, young Blaire. Rah will admit that becoming the Champion of the World would be a major accomplishment for Rah. There would be many accolades, honor and distinction, and immortality if Rah became the Champion of the World. Think of it . . .the Champion of the World! Rah could bring his light and sun to ALL the people of the Earth. Rah could be a force for goodness to counter all the badness going on in the world because Rah knows we need more goodness. More importantly, Rah would not have to worry about not finding parking spaces ever again – or aging rock stars striking Rah’s person with guitars or a surfboard. Oh, and giant pandas. Rah hates giant wrestling pandas…
Quick cut to an undisclosed hotel room at an undisclosed location somewhere in the Chicago metroplex.
Dawn McGill sits on a bed wearing a robe after taking a hot shower and watches the show.
She appears a little irked.
Dawn McGill (repeating Rah’s words): She’s no Lindsay Troy but she’s still most acceptable?????? Really Rah?
Facepalm.
Dawn McGill: Idiot.
Quick cut back to Blaire’s interview where Rah finally wraps up his grand peroration.
Rah: …the world needs Rah as the Champion of the World!
Rah strikes quite the majestic pose. He places one hand on his hip. The other is outstretched. He tilts his head up and stares outward in a noble, kingly kind of way.
It takes a second for Blaire to digest everything he just said.
Blaire Moise: Rah, I’m not sure you actually understand the meaning of potentially winning the HOW World title tonight.
Rah: But Rah does.
Rah turns to Blaire and spreads his arms out wide.
Rah: When Rah becomes the Champion of the World, the world will become right again! All will bow down before me! I will be King and Dawn McGill- though she’s no Lindsay Troy- will be a most suitable and acceptable queen to the Champion of the World!
Blaire Moise: Ah, I hate to point this out to you but I’m pretty sure Lindsay has the trademark on the whole ‘queen’ thing.
Rubbing his chin with his hand, Rah ponders this momentary conundrum. Then he pulls out his cell phone while Blaire waits, tapping her foot impatiently for him.
Rah: AH!
He snaps his finger.
Rah: Emperor! I will be Emperor and she will be my Empress!
Blaire Moise: All right. That’s all from backstage. Thank you Rah-
Rah: CHAMPION OF THE WORLD!
Blaire Moise: …yes. Thank you Rah and let’s go to a commercial break.
The scene cuts from commercial to a blur of OD green. As the camera focuses in, the words “Front Toward Enemy” become visible on screen. The camera zooms out and Steve Solex is shown in the prone position behind a plastic rectangle.
Steve Solex: This’ll teach that overgrown bitch.
The camera circles behind Solex and it’s become apparent that he’s in front of Lindsay Troy’s dressing room.
Joe Hoffman: Is that a claymore mine!?
Benny Newell: YES! BLOW HER THE FUCK UP!
Solex places the blasting cap into the mine, and low crawls around a nearby corner. The cameraman follows him around the corner, getting out of the blast radius.
Steve Solex: Equal rights this, bitch.
Solex is startled by the sound of a door closing, and quickly he detonates the claymore.
BOOM!!!!
Joe Hoffman: Oh my God! What has Solex done!
Benny Newell: She’s dead! YES! Finally, someone has killed the Queen!
Solex snickers as he peeks around the corner. Immediately, he drops his head. The smoke begins to clear and standing in the smoke is…
Joe Hoffman: What…? Johnny Dorn?
Benny Newell: What the fuck is that prick doing there?
Dorn, who needed more ice for his drinky drinks, finds himself directly in the line of Solex’s fire.
Johnny Dorn: WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED, BROOOOOOO?!
He teeters and totters, aimless and confused, a deafening ring in his ears. His eyes are wide open, but he can’t find his bearings.
THUD!!!
Joe Hoffman: Out of nowhere!
Benny Newell: The Dad-Soldier using his expert military experience for cover and concealment! YES! I love it!
From nowhere, Dorn is flattened with a blindside punch right behind the ear from Steve Solex. Solex stands over Dorn, pointing a finger in his face.
Steve Solex: You fuckin’ shitbag!
Solex shouts down Dorn as he stomps a pair of boots into the side of his head.
Steve Solex: You ruined it, you prick! Goddamn…
CRACK!!!
Benny Newell: What the fuck!?
The unmistakable sound of steel chair meeting bone skull echoes through the corridors of the backstage area. Solex’s eyes roll into the back of his head and he drops to his knees. The camera zooms in close as blood trickles down his hairline and drops from his left ear. He pauses momentarily, upright on his knees before completely crumbling to the cement floor, presumably unconscious. The camera pans backs and angles up, revealing Lindsay Troy standing over Solex’s body.
Joe Hoffman: It’s Lindsay Troy!
Benny Newell: Fuck me runnin, DRINK!
The steel chair in her right hand is dented at the back rear, a perfect cast of Solex’s head.
Lindsay Troy: Guess I didn’t get through to you the first time, Stevie.
She toe-punts a pair of stiff kicks into Solex’s ribs before squatting down and getting her face as close to his as she can. She pulls his head off the concrete by the back of his blood-soaked hair.
Lindsay Troy: (whispers) Equal rights. Bitch.
She slams his face into the concrete as the scene cuts to ringside for the main event of the evening.
We’re live for tonight’s main event, a HOW World Title match between Rah and defending champion Michael Lee Best. As the challenger Rah makes his entrance, we’re reminded by the commentary team that this match is the make or break title defense for two major HOW title records, both for longest reign and most defenses in a single reign.
Rah takes his corner, and now it’s time for the champion to make his way to the ring. Joe let’s us know that this is the first match in the history of HOW between Mike Best and a member of the extended Bergman universe, as the referee takes the championship and holds it aloft for the crowd and the viewers at home. Three bells later and this one is underway.
The competitors tie up in the middle of the ring to start it off, but there’s no clear winner as both men break after some jockeying for position. The champion is clearly feeling aggressive tonight, and a series of right hands back Rah up to the corner. A sharp kick to the knee destabilizes the challenger, and it’s clear that this is the angle the champion wants to work tonight. The crowd is firmly behind Rah, wanting to see him cut the bastard son of HOW short here tonight.
A big boot from the giant Rah (RAHHHH!!) sends the champion flying, and for the next few minutes we see the true strength of the behemoth as he works the head and neck of the HOW World Champion over with hard chops and brutal brawling maneuvers. After throwing the Son of God face first into the turnbuckle with the Sunspot, RAHHHHHH looks to secure his first HOW World Championship with a vicious Solstice Slam..
1…
2…..
KICKOUT!
The champion barely powers out at the last second, and rolls out of the ring to take a breather. We get a brief countout attempt from the referee, but at this stage in his career Mike Best isn’t looking to take the safe defense. He slides back into the ring, using his smaller size and speed advantage to take Rah out at the knees with a chop block! Rah drops to one knee, and the champion takes control, deciding to try to keep Rah off his feet.
After a Russian leg sweep, Mike Best takes over the ground game, mounting the back of Rah’s head and bringing down a series of straight up donkey punches from the playbook of Max Kael. Thanks to leverage, it’s easy for the champion to take his time with transitions, trying to wear the big man out as the minutes go back. As Mike Best continues to work the knee of his opponent, making it harder for him to stay on his feet, it’s clear that Rah is losing some steam, and needs to take an advantage soon if he wants to stay in the fight.
BIG BOOT!
Out of pure desperation, Rah finds something in the tank and takes the champion down, sending both men to the ground. Rah grabs the ropes and climbs back to his feet, followed shortly by Michael Best.
BIG BOOT!
Again, the champion is down, and Rah literally falls onto his opponent and begins railing him with punches. The crowd is going crazy! The champion struggles to cover up through the flurry of blows, barely sliding out of harm’s way, but now Rah grabs him by the scruff of his neck and stuffs the head of Michael Best in between his massive thighs. He looks out to the worshippers in the crowd and signals that it’s time for a sacrifice! The crowd is on their feet!
Rah looks toward the heavens of the Best Arena, arms stretched out wide, and lifts the HOW World Champion high into the air! The champion fights against taking the powerbomb portion of the jackknife powerbomb, but it looks like it’s all over… until Rah’s knee buckles from the struggle! After having his knee exploited for the whole match, Rah is having trouble staying upright as the champion fights back!
Mike Best brings a vicious murder elbow down on top of Rah’s head, and then another. And another. And another! The third one sends him collapsing like a folding chair, with the champion landing directly on top of Rah. He scrambles for position, locking in a triangle choke in the center of the ring, and the referee is looking for a submission! Rah fights it out for as long as he can, looking like he’s losing strength, but then something happens in the arena that almost defies reality.
The worshippers are on their feet.
Screaming, chanting, praying to the Temple of the Sunshine God, and Rah is finding his strength in the ring! The fans begin to stomp in rhythm, as Rah slams his own hand against the mat, forcibly beginning to pull himself up off the canvas. Benny Newell is losing his fucking mind, screaming “RAHHHHH!!! RAH! RAH! RAHHH! RAHHHHH!!!!” so loudly that the truck has to turn off his microphone. The arena is at a fevered pitch as Rah stands all the way back up to his feet, still holding the champion in powerbomb position!
One more murder elbow!
Rah lets go of the champion, falling backward and this time looking down for the count. As Mike Best scrambles to his feet, he charges off the ropes and rails Rah in the side of the skull with a running shining wizard– I KNEED A HERO, the single most dangerous knee in the game. The crowd is physically and visibly deflated, as the champion falls onto his opponent for the count.
1…
2…..
3!!!!
DING DING DING
This one is over, as Michael Best greedily snatches the belt from Bryan McVay as he gets into the ring to make the official call. He holds the belt high over his head, pointing down at his knee and hurling out trash talk to the Chicago crowd.
Bryan McVay: Here is your winner, in 11:17, and STILL HOW WORLD CHAMPION…. MICHAEL… BEEEEESSSSSSSTTTTT!
Refueled 50 comes to an end as Mike is seen holding the belt high as the Chicago cheers loudly.