Refueled LVIII

Flames fill the screen as the High Octane Wrestling logo materializes before cutting away to darkness. The sound of fans cheering slowly fills the empty void before we cut to a panning shot of the Best Arena audience roaring with applause as refueled LVIII begins!

Joe Hoffman: Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to High Octane Wrestling’s Refueled on this beautiful Saturday night broadcast live from Chicago!

Benny Newell: DRINK!

“Time Today” by Moneybagg Yo immediately rips out over the Best Arena sound system as the crowd cheers! It’s not totally clear if they are cheering for Desmond or just out of excitement for the first match but in either case, the crowd seems pumped!

Joe Hoffman: Tonight we’re starting off right into our first match of the night pitting two young talents against each other, Desmond LeRoux versus Sutler Reynolds-Kael!

Benny Newell: The President of Human Resources! I read on the website that this was supposed to be the Main Event?

Joe Hoffman: Evidently not, hasn’t anyone ever told you not to believe everything you read online?

Benny Newell: That sounds EXACTLY what a lizardman would say, Hoffman!

Joe Hoffman: What?

Benny Newell: I read about it on Dan Ryan’s Facebook! Lizard people were George Washington and they’re quietly wearing human skins!

As Joe is left in further confusion as Desmond steps out onto the stage, a determined focused look on his face.

Bryan McVay: Introducing first from Lake Charles, Louisiana.. DESSSSSSSSSSSSSSMOND LEROOOOOOOOOOOOOOUX!

CRACK!

Suddenly from behind Desmond Sulter Reynolds-Kael appears with a steel chair smashing it into the back of Desmond’s head dropping him to the rampway.

CRACK!

The President of Human Resources smashes the chair down hard against the unprotected back of Desmond’s head with another thunderous crack as the crowds’ surprised gasps turn to outraged boos.

Joe Hoffman: What the hell is this!?

Benny Newell: Classic Kael move! He’s thinking like his old man! Brilliant!

Joe Hoffman: He’s just attacked a man with a steel chair before the match has even started!

Benny Newell: And that’s totally legal, the match hasn’t started Hoffman!

As the crowd begins a “YOU SUCK” chant Sutler slithers down into the ring, yanking the microphone away from Bryan McVay.

Sulter Reynolds-Kael: I know after I sent that poor man’s excuse for a God packing at March to Glory I’ve been gone for a little while but Jesus FUCKING Christ..

His face is a mix of annoyance and outrage as he rolls out of the ring and begins stalking back up the ramp to the motionless Desmond.

Sulter Reynolds-Kael: Nearly killing a God is a taxing experience and I took a little time for rest and to improve myself. I’ve been training, I’ve been changing my outlook on life, growing as a person, learning how to be the best Sutler Reynolds-Kael I can be. I learned how to paint, I mastered the art of the handshake, I gave my first blowjob and I learned how to use the three shells. Goodbye toilet paper.

Yanking Desmond up by his hair, Sutler drags him aggressively back toward the ring. Blood can be seen seeping from a wound to the back of his head where Sutler had struck with him with the steel chair.

Sutler Reynolds-Kael: And when I come back what do I get? The fucking OPENER?! I’m not a curtain jerker anymore! I’ve proven myself and I’ve sacrificed enough at this point that I DESERVE the RESPECT to be given a higher place on the card! I’m Sulter Reynolds-Kael, the SON of SCIONS and I have single handedly turned the Human Resources into a respectable branch of High Octane Management! So let this be a warning.. Especially to that grandstanding newb Conor Fuse.. Look at this piece of shit and remember what happens when I’m not shown the proper respect my name deserves.

Shoving the nearly lifeless body of LeRoux into the ring, Sutler follows him in. The crowd has alternated from “You Suck” into dueling “Max Kael Rocks” and “Shane Was Better” which seems to further infuriate Sutler.

Sutler Reynolds-Kael: Comienza la pinche pelea!

Joel Hortega looks shocked that Sutler speaks Spanish, hesitating for a moment before he motions for the bell.

DING DING DING!

Tossing the microphone away, Sutler reaches down and pulls Desmond up..

Joe Hoffman: So Sutler with the dirty mouth before the bell….

Benny Newell: Shut the fuck up, Hoffman, just sit back and enjoy..

The sound of Benny taking a shot fills the audio as the Son of Scions executes a brutal Son of the Sin on Desmond LeRoux, his head driven down hard into the matt once again, a small blood stain left behind. With incredible speed and grace Sutler sweeps over and applies the Sutler Method triangle choke.

Desmond isn’t even conscious as Joel Hortega immediately calls for the bell.

DING DING DING!

As soon as the bell rings Sutler releases the hold and climbs back up to his feet with a scowl on his face.

Winner: SUTLER REYONOLDS-KAEL VIA SUBMISSION IN 5 SECONDS!

“Believer” by Solence begins to play as the crowd showers boos onto the President of Human Resources. The Son of Scions demands Hortega raise his hand before he leaves the ring.

Benny Newell: A chip off the old block! DRINK!

Joe Hoffman: Unfortunately so it seems. What is his problem with Conor Fuse?

Benny Newell: He’s a newb, didn’t you hear the President of HR?

Joe Hoffman: Yes but what does that even mean, Benny?

Benny Newell: It means..uh.. It means…..ah who gives a fuck what it means. Let’s move the fuck on..

We cut backstage as the announce team is left shaking their heads at the opening match of the evening..

The scene jumps to the parking lot of the Enterprise Center as a black Chevy Suburban pulls into a parking space. Out of the driver’s seat is Lindsay Troy, the back seats Teddy Palmer and Zeb Martin and riding shotgun!, Conor Fuse.

The foursome start taking their belongings out of the trunk. Meanwhile, Conor Fuse is all smiles.

Conor Fuse: SHOTGUN!

Teddy and Zeb give Conor a questionable look.

Conor Fuse: What? Just calling it for next time, haha! Rules are rules.

Teddy Palmer: Like hell. You can’t call SHOTGUN! early. Rules are rules.

The Vintage brushes off the notion.

Conor Fuse: Naaa bro, LOL. Those were the old rules… they updated the SHOTGUN! Etiquette a few months ago. Big, big changes. HR is up in arms about the changes they made!

Teddy Palmer: Who the fuck are they?

Teddy’s about to reply with more but Lindsay looks over as if to say “just drop it” before she closes the trunk. The group begins their journey towards the backstage entrance.

Conor Fuse: Hey, so, this is fun isn’t it!? Grapplers Loco 360! Loco! Loco! Haha, that’s so much fun to say! So fetch! This co-op is great!

The Queen of the Ring sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose.

Lindsay Troy: Conor, for the last time, it’s Grapplers Local 214. I get the Loco part, I guess. 360? Not so much.

Conor giggles.

Conor Fuse: Like X-Box 360.

Troy blinks, at a loss.

Lindsay Troy: Video games aren’t really my thing…

The Vintage goes through a moment of trying to compute this drastically rattling information, as he playfully hits Zeb on the arm.

Lindsay Troy: Either way, try focusing a little, yeah? You and Zeb have a huge match tonight.

The Power-Up King stops in his tracks. They’re about to enter the building.

Conor Fuse: Oh, I know, I know. I’m messing with ya. Look, let me get my serious face on, okay?

Martin interjects, doing his best impression of Gunnery Sergeant Hartman. Or Steve Solex? Either way…

Zeb Martin: AHHHHHHHH! Lemme see yer war face!

Fuse playfully smacks Zeb in the arm again before “wiping” his hand across his face and a more serious, intense look appears.

Conor Fuse: Done. F Jatt. F Solex. F Clay. Harrison? Not worth my time.

Zeb Martin: Now we’re cookin’ with bacon grease. Err’y one uh us got somethin’ tuh show St. Louie tuh-night. I’ont know ‘bout y’all, but I plan on givin’ this place a nice long look at what we all about. What y’all thank?

The members agree, as Lindsay pulls back the Enterprise Center doors and the four of them head inside. The camera, however, does not.

Conor is heard down the hall.

Conor Fuse: Loco! Loco! Locooooo!

Lindsay Troy: CONOR!

Conor Fuse: Shit, sorry…

Lindsay Troy: No more sugar before the shows for you…

Fade to commercial.

Back live and the lights dim, as the soulful intro blares over the airwaves. VOICEOVER: The most important thing in business is honesty… CUT TO: Video-Tron. …as several images flash, starting with an up-close photo of a blue-eyed baby – crawling, before transition to a toddler, 6-year-old version of the same child playing football, and a 12 year old pre-teenager playing with a basketball in hand.  “…integrity, hard work…. Family. NEVER forgetting where we came from.” CUT TO: Several more images. The first was an even older Sean Stevens – 17 years old – in amateur wrestling gear; in a cap and gown – signifying graduation. The scene then shifted to Sean in the audience, in what looked to be a wrestling arena, before cutting to the final image of Sean, in the middle of a death defying leap from a forty-foot high camera tower, as his foe – below – laid unconscious. CUT TO: The very last image. One of “Triple X” Sean Stevens in the center of the ring, being handed a crown, tired, sweaty, yet triumphant. Suddenly, the video wall faded to black. And, the beat dropped. SFX: (Extra loud hissing sound.) Smoke pyrotechnics shot to the roof, as “No Hook,” by Jay Z blasted over the PA system, and Trip stepped through the curtain. He was immediately met with a mixed reaction – that he ignored – as he sauntered confidently to the ring, in a 100% cotton “King’s Back” t-shirt, black and silver tights, and a pair of “Ray Ban” clubmaster sunglasses. Ignoring the cat calls, and flash bulbs, Stevens didn’t acknowledge anything or anyone ’til he entered the ring, and hopped on each of the four turnbuckles, thrusting his arms in the air victoriously.

Joe Hoffman: Sean Stevens is hoping to continue his new winning streak against a fellow veteran of the wrestling business.

Benny Newell: Wake me up when a member of The Best Alliance shows up.

“All Aboard! AH HA HA HA HA HA HA HA…” A light fog rises from the entrance way as the opening guitar rift kicks in. Parting the smoke is High Flyer, who stands confidently at the top of the entrance ramp. He tosses one hand up in a devil horn taunt and smiles slyly to the camera. He stomps his way to the ring, paying very little attention to the crowd. Once he reaches ringside, he slips in under the bottom rope, then sprawls on his back. He begins to make snow angels while residing on his back, looking up at the lights before recovering to his feet. As the announcer introduces High Flyer, he leaps onto the second ropes and looks out to the crowd.

Joe Hoffman: High Flyer has shown a new attitude recently but has still had some up and downs, but he is coming off a win that sent Loveless to the unemployment line.

Benny Newell: You can thank Hughie Freeman for that, Joe.

Flyer jumps down from the second rope, but Stevens was not waiting and hits Flyer with a clothesline knocking Flyer on his face.   Sean showing some aggression starts kicking Harmen in the ribs repeatedly.  Flyer rolls out of the rings trying to get his bearings, but Sevens follows him outside and whips him in the guardrail.  Flyer stumbles backwards and Sean tosses him back into the ring.  Stevens enters the ring tries for another clothesline but High Flyer ducks, Sean runs the ropes and is met with a drop kick to his chin.  Flyer quick to react picks up Stevens and starts kicking Stevens in his own legs attempting to weaken his base.  It is one kick too many as Sean catches his foot and then spins Flyer around and hits a release belly to back suplex.

Joe Hoffman: These two seem to have turned back the clock, all energy to start it off but Stevens seems to have just earned himself an advantage.

Benny Newell: Which one is going have a heart attack first?

Stevens gets on Flyer and picks him up and starts laying in some forearm shots to Flyers neck and face.   Flyer staggers backwards and Sean comes closer but is met with a jumping knee strike.   Stevens drops to a knee and Flyer hits him with a quick short DDT but falls backwards and looks at the ceiling as he catches his breath.  Both begin to move, and Flyer is the first to his feet and grabs Stevens by the neck and looks to be setting up a neck breaker, but Stevens wiggles free and pushes Flyer in the back.  Before Flyer can turn around, he is hit with a violent looking elbow to the back of the head.

Joe Hoffman: I think his eyes just rolled back into his head from that elbow.

Benny Newell: I think my eyes rolled back into my head having to listen to you.

Stevens goes for the pin.

1..

2..

Quick kick out at 2 by Flyer.  Stevens looks over at Matt Boettcher and shakes his head thinking the count should have been quicker.   Stevens turns his attention back to Flyer but turns into a chop to his throat.  Stevens grabs his throat gasping for air and High Flyer takes advantage of it and lifts Stevens up quickly and hits a Corkscrew suplex.  He does not go for the pin though and instead points at the top rope and heads to the top.  Flyer flies off the top ropes at hits a nice looking frogsplash.  The impact has Flyer roll off of Stevens though, so he is unable to go for the pin.  Holding his chest Flyer gets back to his feet and with all his strength runs at Stevens going for Locomotive.  Stevens rolls out the way of the kick and turns and SMACK, Stevens hits Flyer with Chin Check.

Joe Hoffman: THAT COULD BE IT!

Benny Newell: Both are moving slower than Dan Ryan’s old ass trying to take a misty piss.

Stevens gets over to Flyer and goes for the pin,

1…

2…

NOPE!

Flyer barely kicks out.  Stevens gets him back to his feet and High Flyer is looking wobbly on his feet.  Stevens signals it is over and grabs Flyers head from behind as he looks ready to hit The X Terminator.  He wastes too much time though and Flyer spins his head around and hits a T Bone Suplex.  Both are down and Matt Boettcher get to a six count by the time High Flyer is up.   High Flyer goes outside the ring looking to hit his patented springboard Lou Thesz press.  Stevens is up and looks up to see Flyer springboard towards him.  Flyer hits the press but Stevens rolls through and both are back to their feet but Sean is able to hit a super kick to the back of Flyers head and grabs him quickly from behind and finally hits X Terminator.

1….

2….

3!

Bryan McVay: Here is your winner, ‘xXx” Sean Stevens!

Joe Hoffman: Stevens won another one, he looks to have finally found his feet in HOW.

Benny Newell: Blah, is it finally Best Alliance time?

Suddenly…

SMACK!

Benny Newell: MY WISH HAS BEEN GRANTED!

In the ring Steve Harrison is standing over Sean Stevens who he had hit with Enlightenment while he was having his arm raised in victory.

Joe Hoffman: Where did he come from?

Benny Newell: Wherever he wants to come from!

Harrison sneers down at Sean who is clutching his neck.  He picks him up and hits It’s a Harracle and then starts kicking at Sean’s neck.  He spits towards Sean and then motions for a mic.

Steve Harrison: Sean Stevens, everyone…give him a round of applause for trying to be relevant after his expiration date.  That was like watching two people fighting over who was first to the Early Bird Special at IHOP.  I am surprised there is anyone still awake out there.

Harrison laughs and then pushes Sean out of the ring with his left foot.

Steve Harrison: I know everyone is thinking why I would waste my time here when Local Always Ducking Steve Harrison 24/7 should be on my mind.  When you win as much as I do and just last week literally destroyed their de facto leader without even breaking a sweat the boss gives you some freedom to do what you want.  What I want to do is not only defeat but humiliate all these legends of yester year.  I am not the only person sick of hearing about FWO, CSWA, and that shit hole Dan Ryan was in charge of.

Harrison shrugs as the crowd applauds in support of that statement.

Steve Harrison: I have decided that a small mission of mine will be to beat all of these has-beens clutching at what they once had.  At this rate Lawrence Stanley will roll down the ramp in a wheelchair to challenge me but he will have to wait because my next target is outside the ring trying to get feeling back in his neck.  Get back at me when you are healthy enough to compete, Sean.  I don’t need any more excuses from you former wrestling greats when you lose to me.

The Miracle man raises his arms in victory and walks over to the prone Sean Stevens and throws the mic at him.  He grins as he often does when he is being an asshole and exits the ring and walks up the ramp as we cut elsewhere.

We are taken backstage and inside the office of none other than the GOD of HOW…where a knock being heard gains Lee’s attention.

Lee Best: Come in…make it fucking quick…

Another knock. The GOD of HOW turns his gaze upward, as if asking for strength.

Lee Best: Open the fucking door!

That did it. The door opens, and Lee cocks his head towards the entrance ever so slightly, never taking his attention from his work. This has the twofold effect of making the intruder realize he’s paying attention, while at the same time warning them that they’re in the way and should leave as soon as humanly possible.

“So where’s my dressing room?”

Lee Best: What?

“My dressing room. Where do I go get ready for my match?”

This draws Lee’s full attention and the blind GOD of HOW motions for Redrum to take care of the intrusion. Redrum looks at the visitor – muscular but chubby, like a man who goes to the gym but spends more time telling people he goes to the gym. Douche-level tank top and jeans complete the disaster.

Redrum: Who the fuck are you?

The man looks almost insulted and ignores Redrum and continues to speak directly to Lee

“I’m Lester Moregrimes, Mr. Best. I won the raffle, so I’m here for my High Octane Wrestling match.”

Lee Best: You… won a raffle…?

Lester Moregrimes: Yessir, and I’m just here for what I won.

Lee Best: Here for… Ha….is this Jatt’s doing? Fine fuck it…let him have his fun…..Dallas. Next week asshole. You will open the show.

Lester Moregrimes: Dallas? Next week?

Lee Best: Did I stutter?

Lester Moregrimes: No, sir. Dallas. I’ll be here.

He turns and leaves the offices, while we see Redrum chuckling at the interaction he just witnessed.

Lee Best: Find me Jatt fucking Starr. I need to know what the fuck he is doing.

The action cuts away as we see Redum exit the office and slams the door shut behind him.

Lee Best: Fucking raffle…..fuck that. Gotta go big or go home…..like a lottery….hmmmm.

We fade elsewhere on that note…

The feed is quickly interrupted by grainy footage inside a rundown church building, mostly dark but with just enough lighting to reveal a group of worshippers wearing hoods. A female voice speaks from amongst this group, a sense of anger noticeable throughout.

Back live and ‘Undead’ hits our deep into our sensors and the whole atmosphere in the Best Arena changes completely. Out step the disciples of GOD: Clay Bryd and Steve Solex. The Best Alliance. The duo work the crowd and its negatively anticipated. Solex works one side and Clay the other.

Joe Hoffman: Tag team action right here!

Benny Newell: Shine that light on them GOD!

Once in the ring they loosen off and prepare for their adversaries.

Joe Hoffman: Bragging rights firmly on the table here.

A chugging guitar riff pulsates through the PA system of the Enterprise Center: an anthem chosen that’s fitting for the fight against the higher ups.  “Re-Education (Through Labor)” by Rise Against is the song, signaling the entrance of our first team.

Bryan McVay: Making their way to the ring!  Representing the Grapplers Local 214!

Both Conor Fuse and Zeb Martin walk through the curtain side-by-side to a rumbling wave of cheers, the two pausing at the entrance to soak it all in.  Much to the surprise of the audience, the two have both made a slight change to their typical wardrobe.  While the trucker hat is still atop his head, absent are the traditional denim jeans.  The same goes for Conor: still clad in his purple hoodie, but with a different look for the wrestling-based gear.  Both Zeb and Conor sport matching navy trunks with white trim, the number 214 on the butt in gold.  Zeb also accessorizes with an unbuttoned gold flannel shirt, sleeves rolled up just at the elbows.

Bryan McVay: At a total combined weight of 468 pounds…CONOR FUSE AND ZEEEEEEB MARTIN!

The two march down to the ringside area, providing some old-school hand slaps to the fans lining the steel rail pathway.  As Zeb rolls underneath the bottom rope, Conor leaps onto the apron and the two make their way to opposite turnbuckles, scaling them and playing to the crowd.

Joe Hoffman: Listen to this crowd!

Both teams stare-off practically nose-to-nose; Clay opposite Zeb and Solex opposite Fuse until the music filters out.

Joe Hoffman: And we’re off!

Benny Newell: Like cats and dogs!

It’s a hot start and both teams throw wild punches. The BA seem to be getting the upper hand as they back Local Grapplers up to the ropes with hard rights.

Benny Newell: Sick em’ boys!

The BA double whip Local Grapplers off the ropes and go on the attack with a double clothesline. However, it’s ducked and on the return back off the other ropes it’s met with a double forearm strike.

Joe Hoffman: No grappling there, just stiff shots to the face!

The action is fast paced and Solex immediately powders out of the ring. Meanwhile, Local Grapplers 214 are at number advantage turning their sights to Clay Byrd. However, Clay is in no way intimidated as he’s the one forcing the issue.

Benny Newell: Get em’ Clay!

Joe Hoffman: Everything you need to know about The Texan.

Clay charges full steam ahead and its met with a drop-toe-hold from Fuse and straight into a..

Joe Hoffman: DDT from Marty!

Clay powders from great teamwork from the Local Grapplers. The fans are feeling it and so are the energetic duo. Fuse immediately grabs the arm of Zeb and whips his tag partner towards the ropes (ramp side) and Zeb slides (and stops) on all fours.

Joe Hoffman: What is this?!

Fuse geers up the audience before…

Joe Hoffman: Air Fuse!

Conor Fuse jumps off of Zeb’s back, springs off the top rope and uses his momentum to hit a death defying moonsault on both members of The BA! The HOW faithful go bonkers.

Joe Hoffman: Like something seen on a computer game!

Benny Newell: Child’s play!

Zeb then meets Connor on the outside to assist him to a vertical base. Zeb then gets Solex and rolls him into the ring. Once doing so, he slides in the ring himself and the match officially gets underway.

DING

DING

Zeb Martin hooks Solex for a suplex. However, the colourful grappler spends too much time showboating in the hold that Solex is able to slip down the back once hoisted. Solex then directs Zeb into the upholstered boot of Clay Byrd who is now on the ring apron in his corner.

Benny Newell: There you go!

Solex then drags Zeb back into the corner by the leg where Clay can make the tag on Zeb’s back.

Benny Newell: GOD’s work!

Clay then claims Zeb and fires him back into the corner. Where The Texan can light him up with punches and one firm nasty headbutt.

Joe Hoffman: Clay taking no prisoners.

Best Alliance makes another tag and in steps Solex. Clay immediately sends Zeb into the ropes and Solex gets in position beside his partner to deliver a double flapjack.

Benny Newell: Oh baby!

Zeb is now getting dragged further into the corner with a dismayed Conor Fuse on the opposite side of the ring.

Joe Hoffman: They’re cutting that ring in half making life difficult for Zeb Martin here.

Benny Newell: Welcome to hell, dickhead.

Solex works the leg by kicking the elevated leg. He then yarks on it by pivoting off in the other direction.

Joe Hoffman: Working that leg.

Benny Newell: Bring out the wheelchair!

Solex then picks Zeb up and scoop slams him. Cockily, Solex showboats by holding out his arms and grinning.

Benny Newell: Such confidence!

Solex claims Zeb’s head and picks him up off the mat. However Zeb tussles off the hold and delivers a jawbreaker from out of nowhere. The fans come back to life..

Joe Hoffman: Zeb still in this!

Zeb crawls under the legs of Solex to try and make the tag. Fuse is willing on his partner but..

Benny Newell: Not today junior!

Solex grabs a trailing leg and has Zeb hopping. The Fisherman tries to hop closer to a fresh Conor Fuse and bit-by bit gains more ground.

Joe Hoffman: This crowd is willing on the tag!

Solex then pulls the leg and momentum takes Zeb behind him but Solex fires a parting shot at Fuse. The ref goes over to see what foul play has occurred but meanwhile..

Benny Newell: In comes Clay!

Big Clay delivers a nasty stiff clothesline to the back of Zeb’s head before bailing. The ref then turns around to see Solex now capitalizing with a pin.

UNO

DOS

Zeb kicks out.

Benny Newell: You’re caught in the Jaws of The Best Alliance, Zeb! You’re not getting thrown back in the ocean. Not today!

Solex drags Zeb back over to his corner where Clay makes yet another tag.

Joe Hoffman: Like it or not but the quickfire tags from the Best Alliance shows their team cohesion.

Benny Newell: Great word, Joe. But I call it an ass kicking from the bestest team ever assembled in the history of combat sports.

Clay sends Zeb off the ropes to deliver him an old school style big boot. It is immediately followed up by an elbow drop and from that position locks in an armbar. Zeb eventually works himself back up to a vertical base from the support of the crowd. Clay then charges backwards with the hold still applied and he’s heavy into the corner. Solex’s turn now.

Joe Hoffman: Zeb taking heavy punishment.

Solex then gestures to Zeb to come at him. The lifeless Zeb pushes Solex away. Solex pushes against Zeb’s head and this encourages him to attack. However, Solex targets the unsteady legs of Zeb and immediately hooks in both legs. Solex spins him around in position and puckers his lips to Fuse, goading him. Solex then slingshots Zeb into his corner but..

Joe Hoffman: Zeb is perched!

Zeb lands on the middle ropes and kicks an incoming Clay Byrd on the apron. Solex then feeds around and sees Zeb perched. However, the former eggBandit jumps and delivers a..

Joe Hoffman: Sunset flip!

UNO

DOS

Kick-out from Solex.

Benny Newell: GOD yes!

Zeb now ambling over to the ropes where Fuse is desperate for him to make the tag. However, Solex grabs the trailing hurt leg..

Joe Hoffman: We’ve been here before.

Zeb hops a few times on the spot before delivering an..

Joe Hoffman: Insurguri!

Clay then sees the predicament and enters the ring, illegally.

Joe Hoffman: Tag made! Tag made!

Fuse with a house of fire: dropkick to Clay, dropkick to Solex, runs and.. springboard sidekick to Clay sending him over the top rope and to the outside.

Joe Hoffman: Fuse on fire!

Benny Newell: Send that game back!

Solex feeds back up and Fuse nails the..

Joe Hoffman: PWN’d!

The crowd is electric as Fuse nails the rovering Clay with an outside suicide dive. Meanwhile, the impact of the PWN’d maneuver has simply dazed Solex as he appears in no man’s land. With that, the heroic Zeb Martin is in prime position to hit the..

Joe Hoffman: Hook, Line And Sinker!!!!

UNO

DOS

Benny Newell: GOD No!

TRES!!!

Bryan McVay: And the winners of the match, the team of Conor Fuse and Zeb Martin.. LOCAL GRAPPLERS 214!

Conor Fuse slides back into the ring where he assists Zeb Martin back to his feet. They celebrate in the middle of the ring with referee Joel Hortega lifting their arms in victory as we cut away.

We cut backstage where we see Brian Hollywood standing backstage looking at a monitor as he was watching the Best Alliance against the Grapplers 214 match with his arms folded. Just then Blaire Moise comes into the frame but Hollywood was concentrating on the match so much that he didn’t even hear Blaire coming.

Blaire Moise: Excuse me Mr. Hollywood?

Hollywood doesn’t seem to budge. He was tuned in so much he wasn’t aware of the things going on around him.

Blaire Moise: Um…Brian? Hello?!

Just then Hollywood snaps his attention away and straight at Blaire and he rolls his eyes towards her.

Brian Hollywood: Oh god…what do you want Blaire? I’m hardly in the mood tonight.

Blaire doesn’t seem to be worried about Hollywood’s bad mood as she proceeds forward with her question.

Blaire Moise: Well I just saw you standing there watching the tag match and then I got to thinking about what you said last week about choosing sides and I was just hoping we’d get a follow up to that.

Hollywood let’s out a little chuckle. Sure he was in a bad mood but Blaire’s question seemed to entertain him considering he was all about suspense.

Brian Hollywood: Stuck wanting more as usual Blaire. You may be pretty hot but you’re just like everyone else around here. Always wanting more answers to the questions and suspicions I put out but the truth is Blaire I don’t think you have a right to know a god damn thing. I reveal what I want to reveal when I’m ready for the world to know my intentions. That’s how I operate Blaire that’s how I always operate. You’d think by now a journalist such a yourself would already know better but maybe that’s the problem around here in HOW is that nobody knows better whatsoever.

Hollywood shakes his head in discontent and continues.

Brian Hollywood: That’s the root of all discontent and it’s a crime against humanity Blaire! Everyone is so focused on their hoped end game that their eyes aren’t focused on what’s happening right NOW! We’re still several weeks away from War Games that the meat that sets up the table for War Games hasn’t even been established yet. But me? I’m always looking at the path that will get me there.

Blaire nods before she addresses Hollywood’s interest in the tag match.

Blaire Moise: I noticed you were watching the tag match with the Best Alliance and Grapplers 214. You seemed pretty interested in it. Would you mind telling us what drew your gaze? Perhaps it’s after what you said last week about finally picking a side. What are your thoughts if it weren’t anything else?

Hollywood just shakes his head disappointingly. His head drapes as if he were just not up for doing an implied facepalm. It didn’t matter to him tonight.

Brian Hollywood: What do you think the answer to that one is Blaire? Is it not obvious that maybe I just wanted to watch the match like any other human being? I know I tend to leave people hanging on the cliff but the truth is I’m just watching a match.

Blaire Moise: Well when can we expect an answer from you?

Brian Hollywood: You know that’s what I love about you Blaire is you’re direct. But to expect it would be to expect it. I deal in the unexpected. In fact I’ve made bank on it every time. My element of surprise will be just that. Unexpected. But I can tell you…soon….soon. The clock is ticking and before long it’s going to run out for the people on the wrong side.  Now if you’ll excuse me Blaire I’ve got some business I must attend to tonight. Unavoidable.

Hollywood smirks as he casually walks down the hallway as we cut away…

We cut back inside The Enterprise Center here in St. Louis….

Suddenly the sound of screeching violins pucker the assholes of everyone in attendance as “Danse Macabre” jolts everyone to attention.

Joe Hoffman: Jesus Christ I hate that theme! Scares the shit out of me!!

Benny Newell: Don’t be such a pussy. I like it. Makes everyone at home who was thinking about going to take a shit, stay in their seats.

Joe Hoffman: Yeah, and then they shit the bed.

Benny Newell: Kinda like you at the announce booth every week? HEYOOOOO.

Joe Hoffman: Oh damn. That was actually pretty good. Hate to ruin our dynamic here but I’m not even gonna pretend to be mad at you for that one!

Arthur Pleasant makes his presence known far and wide as he sways his fingers like conductor’s batons to the classical brilliance of Saint-Saëns. Wearing the same wrestling gear we saw him in last week and a new “The Provocateur” Arthur Pleasant t-shirt, Arthur walks down the aisle.

Yuri Reznikov, the Big Russian Motherfucker who stands at nearly seven-feet tall and 375lbs, quickly appears by his side. He wears long black slacks, a black polo two-sizes too small thus exposing the veins in his massive arms, and a pair of black shades. Tattoos cover his arms and neck like a collage of prison-time.

Joe Hoffman: Oh hey, it’s the Russian Terminator.

Benny Newell: Yeah I wouldn’t want to mess with this guy. He looks like a dude Lee hired to collect HOG debts and will skullfuck your Mother in front of you if you come up short.  

Sliding into the ring, Arthur rolls onto his back while placing his arms behind his head. Bending the knee and crossing his other leg on top of it, Arthur reaches up and waits for something. Yuri, meanwhile, is already hopping up onto the ring apron with the microphone he retrieved. Stepping over the ropes like the Diesel-ass motherfucker he is, Yuri places the microphone into Arthur’s hand. Arthur rolls backwards and hops to his feet. Arms out with a big “TADAAAA!!”, as if we’re supposed to be impressed by the display of agility, Arthur chuckles. Finally, his music cuts and he speaks directly, and quite articulately, into the black foam covering.

Arthur Pleasant: Oh would you look at that.

He points out to the sea of High Octanians who have amassed within the Enterprise Center.

Arthur Pleasant: We have to stop meeting like this! People are gonna start to talk!

Smirking, he doesn’t even wait for a response.

Arthur Pleasant: Calm down, folks! It’s… not all about you, despite what your heroes shovel down your fucking throats. No… it’s about me, actually. Don’t let them tell you otherwise. Now then… my dear, dear friend!

His smirk widens.

Arthur Pleasant: I know you’re probably not listening right now, but soon… soon you will be. It’ll all start when your colleagues begin to nudge you and say, “Hey, did you hear what that new guy Arthur Pleasant said about you out there? Boy that was some shit, wasn’t it?!”. Then you’ll look back at him, her, or even them and put your dimestore acting skills to use and pretend to not have a clue who I am. This being true, DESPITE being glued to my match with Bobby Dean last week and hanging onto every word before it and after it.

Benny Newell: For the love of… WHO is he talking about? Teddy Palmer? CLay Byrd?!

Joe Hoffman: Given this guy’s apparent lack of mental stability, I’m just going to assume he’s talking about the HOW World Champion himself, Cancer Jiles.

Enjoying keeping everyone on the edge of their seat, Arthur continues.

Arthur Pleasant: As you stuff your stupid face with overcooked, flavorless shrimp back there in catering, digesting the metaphor that has become your essence as both competitor and character, pretending to not know that I, The Provocateur Himself, Arthur Pleasant, am the newest and hottest commodity in High Octane Wrestling… for the first time in your pathetic fucking life, you will suddenly be overwhelmed with the power of choice. Mhmm. And it’ll go something, if not EXACTLY, like this!

Being the master orator and manipulator that he is, he pauses again. The control struggles to find a way out of the palm of his hand but they fail miserably.

Benny Newell: Well now that he has said Jobber… I think it’s…

Joe Hoffman: Yeah. Probably right.

Satisfied with the length of his pause, he once again continues.

Arthur Pleasant: You’ll say something along the lines of, “Do I accept this man’s challenge and take yet another loss to my lackluster first two quarters of the year…”, and folks, that’s Gregorian, NOT Fiscal. “…thus fulfilling my destiny as THE JoHOW? That’s Jobber of High Octane Wrestling in case anybody out there couldn’t figure that out, by the way. “Or do I simply keep my sore ass in catering and further make use of my back alley performance prepwork?”. C’mon now, you and everyone here knows that’s precisely what’ll run through your mind like insulin resistance through Bobby Dean. See, the low hanging fruit that is the punchline of that joke is HE’S FUCKING FAT.      

Joe Hoffman: But he’s not…?

Benny Newell: Hahaha.

Arthur Pleasant: Ultimately, though? I know you’ll do the right thing and accept. And if you don’t? Well, uhhh, I’m sure our Great Leader himself, Lee Best, will make SURE it’s booked anyway! So really… hahaha… I think all that will be required of you with my challenge is to simply show up with your gear next week. Still… I like to give people the benefit of the doubt and, more importantly, the chance to step outside of their wheelhouse of mediocrity and prove me wrong.   

Arthur slaps his own knee, taking the hilarity of his own statement to levels where it’s no longer hilarious and just plain fucking obnoxious. Standing upright again, Arthur’s smirking countenance fades, giving way for an expressionless, emotionless pale looking pressure cooker chock full of facial ingredients.

Arthur Pleasant: Saying that I have been watching High Octane Wrestling for some time and plan on bringing change – a much needed gentrification, even – WASN’T just a cute line for an “entry level” wrestler. Far from it, in fact. I meant what I said more than you or any of these St. Louis Sucktards may know. As far as being entry level? Well…

… that’ll be for all of you to decide after I beat him next week!!

Him?

Him WHO?!

WHO is HIM?

HOW will I beat HIM in HOW?

…

Of COURSE I’m talking about you… BRIAN HOLLYWOOD!

Joe Hoffman: What in the… oh. OH. You know, I thought he was talking about the OTHER one.

Benny Newell: Brian Hollywood? What does he have to do with Arthur?

Arthur paces back and forth. Slowly. He lets the questions manifest from the crowd and fly freely toward him like confusion-filled projectiles.

Arthur Pleasant [pointing at Yuri]: We, The Guardians of REAL Entertainment… The goRe with a capital fucking R… will see you soon, friend! So pick your jaw up from the floor and stuff if back in your hollowed out fucking head. ‘Cause, I’mma be real with you here: I want to knock it back out again myself. Hehehe…heh.

“Danse Macabre” commences once again as Arthur Pleasant sways to the melody’s disconcerting progression as Yuri stands with both arms folded, looking like he’s about to kill a bitch.

And by a bitch they mean Brian Hollywood, just in case their narrative and disposition is too subtle to grasp for all the mental midgets watching High Octane Wrestling as we cut away to a commercial break.

Joe Hoffman: Well folks… it is time.  Time for an HOFC match that has been over a decade in the making.  It was January 9th, 2011 when Scottywood took the HOFC Title from Mike Best when he won the HOFC Competition.

Benny Newell: Took from… never defeated Benny!

Joe Hoffman: Just like Gino never defeated Scottywood… he was given the title.

Benny Newell: We don’t talk about that Joe!

Joe Hoffman: But it’s part of the tumultuous history that is the HOFC Title.  Something I guess should be expected from a title that brings out some of the most vile HATE filled promos HOW has ever seen.

Benny Newell: Yeah… holy fuck this wee Joe…

Joe Hoffman: There were definitely some surprises… and a certain wall that needs some repair, but no one can say that the hype for this match has been much more than anyone expected.

Benny Newell: That corporate delinquent Scottywood came out of nowhere… there… that is my one Scottywood compliment for the night.

Joe Hoffman: The Hardcore Artist has certainly been missing in some action as of late, ever since his HOFC loss to Teddy Palmer to be more exact.  But it seems he is back and in rare form, exactly what he needs to go against a Mike Best who is looking to rebound after losing the HOW World Title to…

Benny Newell: NO!  We will not talk about that either.

Joe Hoffman: Well anyhow, Mike will try to not suffer two straight losses… two straight title losses for probably the first time ever in his career… and that could all be thanks to the former tag team of COOL Reality.

Benny Newell: I will literally eat my fucking pants Joe!

Joe Hoffman: You’d have to be wearing some first… but let’s head over to the USS Octane.

Cutting to the USS Octane we see Rick Stevens standing in the cage as suddenly hear the New York Rangers fog horn blast from the ship as as Rick Stevens almost falls down in shock before we cut to…

OOOOOOOHHHHHHHHH, BEG MOTHERFUCKER, BEG!

Seether continues as for the first time in HOW history we see sans dreadlocks Scottywood emerge from the ship, hockey stick in hand as he hits the anarchy symbol on his chest before out stretching his arms and turning his back to the camera to show off the fresh back tattoos on The Hardcore Artist.

Joe Hoffman: I never thought I’d see this ever.

Making his way into the cage, Scotty leans in the corner and just stares back at the door where Mike Best is about to come out.

HALLLLLLELUJAH! HALLLLLLELUJAH! HALLELUJAH! HALLELUJAH! HALLEEEEEEEELUJAH! The catchy but vaguely offputting groove of Hanzel und Gretyl’s “HELLAlujah” begins to slap over the sound system, heralding the arrival of the SON OF GOD, Michael Lee Best.

The always polarizing wrestling veteran steps out slowly onto the deck of the ship, making his way toward the cage. He holds the HOW HOFC Championship into the air, staring down at Scotty as he bobs his head to the sweet jams of his own entrance music. As he saunters toward the cage, Mike makes a big show of making sure the camera gets a good zoomed in shot as he flips Scotty the bird, displaying his Hall of Fame ring prominently. He enters the cage as Michael slowly makes his way toward his corner, stretching and preparing for the beginning of the match as his music begins to…

CRACK!!

CRACK!!

The barbed wire hockey stick nearly splitters apart as Mike falls down to the mat of the HOFC cage, as Rick Stevens calls for the start of the fight.

Benny Newell: Blindsided attack!

Joe Hoffman: That is what Mike Best gets for turning his back to Scottywood!

Scottywood: Pitter Patter motherfucker!

Scotty tosses the hockey stick to the side as he drives a hard elbow into the back of Mike Best’s head as he quickly rolls him over and as he chokes Mike with his left, starts hammering away with rights to the head of Mike Best who does what he can to defend himself but The Hardcore Artist is letting years of fury out.

Mike tries to reach out and grab the hair of Scottywood, but his hand slides across the bald head of Scottywood who busts Mike open across the left eye with a hard right elbow.

Joe Hoffman: More blood spilled by Scottywood!  Mike Best is a bloody mess and the first round isn’t even over!

Benny Newell: It’s not fair he cut his dreads off!  Cheater!

Pulling Mike Best back up to his feet, Scotty throws Mike into the HOFC cage wall as he hits the mat hard and Scotty grabs the cage above him and starts stomping away at the guts of Mike.  After a good ten shots, Scotty pulls Mike back up to his feet and slaps the HOFC champion across the face.

Scottywood: You really thought I wouldn’t bring it against you Mike!  You wanted me to wake the fuck up?  Well here I am Mike!  Now I’m gonna put you to fucking sleep!

Mike turns his head back to Scotty and spits blood in The Hardcore Artist’s face who boots Mike in the gut and hits a spiked DDT in the middle of the cage.

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Joe Hoffman: Mike down for a five count already!

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Benny Newell: He has ten Joe, why not use it.

Mike pulls himself back to his feet as Scotty grabs him by the throat…

DING DING DING

Benny Newell: Saved by the bell!

Rick Stevens calls for Scotty to let Mike go… but The Hardcore Artist laughs as he lifts Mike up and chokeslams him down on the mat.

Joe Hoffman: Scottyslam!

Benny Newell: DQ him!

Joe Hoffman: There are none Benny… the round ended… but there are no repercussions.

Mike rolls back to his corner as Scotty continues to laugh as he calls for the bell to starts round two… but Stevens won’t until Mike is back to his feet.  Using the cage to pull himself up, Mike stares back at Scottywood with eyes that could kill.

Mike Best: Ring the fucking bell Rick!

Rick obliges as Scotty charges at Mike and body checks him back into the cage wall.

Joe Hoffman: I know Mike is pissed, but he should have taken all the time he could to recover.

Scotty pulls Mike up as delivers a hard right as Mike comes back and kicks Scotty right between the legs and drops The Hardcore Artist to his knees.

Mike Best: Really?  You haven’t had any balls for years!

Mike now goes on the assault as he fires a couple of rights to the head of Scotty before taking a couple steps back and throws his braced up knee at the head of Scotty.

Benny Newell: I Kneed…

Joe Hoffman: Scotty ducks it!  Mike turns around and gets spears to the ground as again Scotty nails a couple of punches before Mike thumbs Scotty in the eye.  Stumbling away as he rubs his eye to get his sight straightened, Mike chop blocks Scotty from behind.  With Scotty on knee Mike swings around and knife edge chops Scotty right in his anarchy tattoo.  He then takes his repositions his HOF ring on his hand and nails Scotty with a hard right that splits Scotty open.  But Scotty shakes it off as swings quickly at Mike and nails him on the jaw, splitting him open with his HOF ring.

Scottywood: Yeah, I got one too dick.

Standing back up, the two men trade blows with their HOF rings being the main point of contact as the blood starts to flow from both men as the ring slice up with foreheads.

Joe Hoffman: These Hall of Famers are tearing each other apart… literally as the HOFC cage floor turns into a bloody Jackson Pollock.

Benny Newell: The jizz painter?

More shots are traded as Mike knees Scotty in the gut as he picks him up spinebuster.

DING DING DING

Mike looks at Rick Stevens and smiles as he drives Scotty down into the mat with the spinebuster.

Joe Hoffman: And Mike Best exacting some revenge as he nails that spinebuster after the bell rings for the end of round two.

Scotty rolls away as he pulls himself up while holding his back in pain.  Rick checks with Scotty who pushes him away.

Scottywood: Let’s fucking go!  Ring it!

Joe Hoffman: Neither man wanting a break here as they just want to fight Benny.

Rick calls for the bell as the two men charge at each other and it Scotty drives his shoulder into Mike’s gut as uses his slight size advantage to drive Mike back to the cage wall as Mike hammers away at the tattoo’s spine of Scotty’s.  Slamming Mike into the cage wall stops those shots as Scotty drives the shoulder in again, again and again before he locks in a front face lock and hits an SDT that lays Mike out and starts the second count of the night.

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Benny Newell: Get up Mike!  You can’t lose to him!  You can’t!

Joe Hoffman: Pants Benny… eating your pants.

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Mike pulls himself back up to his feet as Scotty goes for a big spear, but Mike sidesteps it as he connects with a drop toe hold as he quickly jumps on the back of Scotty and starts driving elbows into the back of Scotty head, over and over and over again.

Benny Newell: Right in his fucking soft spot!  Murder the fucker Mike!  Kill him!

Mike delivers about ten murder elbows as he gets off Scotty and yells at Rick to start the first ten count on Scotty of the fight.

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Joe Hoffman: Little movement by Scottywood after the Murder Elbows from Mike Best.

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Scotty rolls over and sits up as he glares at Mike while pulling himself up to his feet.  The two men meet in the middle of the cage and again just start trading blows back in forth with little regard for themselves, just wanting to dish out pain to the other.  The each get a good ten shots in as the blood is almost pouting down their faces as their legs both start to buckle.

DING DING DING

Joe Hoffman: The end of round three and this has turned into a literal slugfest.  Both men just teeing off on each other in an attempt maim the other.

But again after just seconds of the bell ringing they both yell at Rick Stevens for the next round who has no problem giving them just what they want and calls for the fourth round to start.  A few more punches are fired off at each other before Mike drives his braced knee into the gut of Scotty and nails a big belly to belly suplex in the middle of the cage.

Joe Hoffman: Huge slam on Scotty… how much does The Hardcore Artist have left in the tank?

Benny Newell: I’m sure he filled up on fucking IPAs before this match.

Joe Hoffman: No Benny… word is he is totally sober tonight.

Arching his back in pain again, Scotty can’t focus on it much as Mike goes to drop a knee across the face of Scotty… but The Hardcore Artist rolls out of the way.  Mike grabs the head of Scotty’s in a front face lock as he locks it in hard as he tries to take a breathe while walking Scotty towards the cage wall.  He throws him back first into the cage as Scotty bounces off and right into a drop kick from Mike that sends Scotty back into the cage hard.  It drops Scotty to one knee and allows Mike to connect with a step up enzuigiri that nearly snaps Scotty’s neck and starts another count from Rick Stevens.

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Scotty pulls himself back up with the help of the cage wall and spits some blood down at the mat as he calls on Mike to keep bringing it.  The HOFC champion swings a high kick at The Hardcore Artist who ducks it… but Mike swings back around and hits a standing kick to the back of Scotty’s head.  Scotty’s body goes limp as he falls to the mat…

DING DING DING

Benny Newell: Knockout!  Mike Best retains!

Joe Hoffman: What a kick my Mike Best!  But that Benny is the end of round four.

Benny Newell: Fucking bullshit!  Who lets a bell save them?

Mike yells at Rick to start round five… but Scotty puts his hand together in the form of a T as he seems to be calling timeout.

Benny Newell: There’s no timeout in this!

Joe Hoffman: He is allowed time between rounds.

Pulling himself back to his feet, Scotty grabs his barbed wire hockey stick as he calls for Mike to come at him.  Rick calls for the bell as Mike takes his time as he approaches Scotty… who lunges at Mike and swings the stick at Mike’s knee brace.

Benny Newell: He can’t attack a medical device!  HIPPO violation!

The stick strikes Mike in the knee brace… but the barbed wire gets caught in it and Mike pulls his leg back and riips the stick out of Scotty hands.  The momentum pulls Scotty towards Mike to drills Scotty with an elbow across the bridge of the nose that sends Scotty stumbling backwards.  Mike rips the barbed wire off the stick and starts to wrap it around his knee brace.

Joe Hoffman: What the… a barbed wire wrapped knee brace?

Benny Newell: Fucking brilliant Joe!

Scotty turns back towards Mike and is caught with a standing super kick straight to the jaw that drops Scotty down to one knee.  Mike then smiles as charges and drives his now barbed wire wrapped knee brace straight into the temple of The Hardcore Artist.

Benny Newell: I KNEED A HERO!!!

Joe Hoffman: With barbed wire!

We see the barbed wire shred the face of Scottywood as the blood again starts to run down the face of The Hardcore Artist as he collaspes to the floor of the cage.

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Benny Newell: It’s academic Rick… faster!

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DING DING DING

Bryan McVay: Here is your winner by knockout in in round five… and STILL THE HOW HOFC CHAMPION…. MIKE BEST!!!!

Mike Best collapses himself to the floor of the HOFC cage as Rick hands him the title… but he doesn’t look at it… and just back at Scottywood in a semi state of shock.

Joe Hoffman: Mike Best retains the HOFC title… but he was just taken to the limit by Scottywood in a match really could have gone either way in that fifth round.  What a battle by two legends of HOW.

Benny Newell: I’ll… say it… that was fucking close Joe.  I almost pissed myself a few times thinking Scottywood was about to beat Mike.

Joe Hoffman: Almost?  I can smell it… now can you please put your pants on?

Benny Newell: This is the pants free era at work Joe!  Let me be free!

We see Mike continue to just sit on the mat and continue to stare at Scotty while his music plays across the deck of the USS Octane.

Joe Hoffman: One title match down, and one to go folks.  Up next it is Jatt Starr defending the LSD Title against Teddy Palmer.

Benny Newell: The Apple of The Big Grapple!

Joe Hoffman: Is it last call yet here?

Benny Newel: Never!  DRINK!

The action cuts away

We cut away from the hellacious HOFC fight aboard the USS Octane and are back inside the arena here in St. Louis.

Joe Hoffman: We’ve received word that there’s a bit of a commotion backstage.

The scene opens to a terrified Blaire Moise standing outside of a double door in the backstage area, near catering.

Blaire Moise: I’m… I’m backstage guys trying to get a word with Best Alliance Member Clay Byrd…

As the camera pushes through the door a wild Clay Byrd can be seen, his cowboy hat removed, his hair wild and disheveled. A table, and food fly across the room smashing into a group of security.

Clay Byrd: Couldn’t fuckin’ listen! Couldn’t just follow the fuckin’ plan!

Clay roars as he starts throwing food off of another table into the catering staffs face. Full steaks, an entire bowl of salad. The Behemoth from Texas is clearly irate. Blair stands to the side of the camera, being cautious.

Clay Byrd: Fuck all of you!

Clay continues, as he picks the other table up from catering and sends it flying towards the camera crew. Clay’s ice blue eyes make contact with the camera, the madness evident across his face as he begins marching toward Blair.

Joe Hoffman: Blaire get out of there!

Clay Byrd: Where the fuck were you John, Jatt, Harrison, Hughie? Off sellin’ fuckin’ trinkets?!

The Behemoth from Texas screams into the camera as he grabs the boom microphone out of the sound guys hands. The sound guy turns to run, but Clay blasts him across the stomach with the giant boom microphone pole. Clay picks up the sound man and throws him from a power bomb position at the sound man and Blair, who are quickly retreating.

Clay Byrd: GET THE FUCK OUT!

Clay continues shouting as the pair turn and run back through the double doors. Behind them, you can hear the sound of fists on flesh from the boom mic as Clay punches the sound guy in the head as he tries to scramble backwards.

Blaire Moise: Oh my god! Oh my god!

Blaire exits through the double doors first, back into a wall of security, followed by the cameraman. As the two get behind the wall, the sound guy comes rolling through the double door apparently tossed by The Plainview Monster. The security team rushes to him to pull him out as Clay comes through the door and immediately starts taking swings at the security guards.

Blaire Moise: Joe, we’re leaving. Back to you.

Clay picks up a security guard and gorilla press slams him off the concrete arena walls as the scene fades.

Quick cut to Section 214…..

The fans of Best Arena’s Section 214 who made the trip down to St. Louis for the show were greeted with a most pleasant surprise- Section 214 at the Enterprise Center is an all inclusive loge part of the Together Credit Union Terrace with spacious seating and most importantly- access to the Bud Light Sports Pub.

Joe Hoffman: Clay Byrd is not a happy camper after that loss earlier tonight but right now we gotta focus here towards Section 214 as we heard the news earlier this week that Joe Bergman was returning to HOW tonight.

Benny Newell: For all we know, Bergman’s probably drinking with the rest of the reprobates up there.

Then he tips his head back and ironically guzzles down another healthy portion of the whiskey inside the bottle of Jack.  

Joe Hoffman: Well, maybe we should just move on…

The HOV suddenly fires up and on the video screen appears Joe Bergman- NOT in Section 214, NOT in the Enterprise Center, BACKSTAGE…at the Qwest Center in Omaha, Nebraska at a MVW house show. 

Bergman’s sitting on a stool in the dressing room.

Joe Bergman: Hey everyone.  Joe Bergman here.  Obviously, I’m not in St. Louis tonight.  But I thought I’d take a quick moment here to tell you who the fifth member of Grappler’s Local 214 is.  I know there’s been some talk about me coming back for War Games… and deep down, I would love to come back to HOW, it’s not going to happen for health-related reasons.  

Joe pauses and then continues.

Joe Bergman: I do know who the fifth member is.  This man is a former HOW World Champion.  This man is a former War Games winner.  And I can tell you without any doubt, without this man there never would have been a Section 214.  

The fans try to piece together the puzzle. 

Benny Newell: Oh just get fucking on with it already.

Joe Bergman: The fifth member of the Grapplers Local 214 is…

“Do you hear the people sing, singing a song of angry men
It is the music of the people who will not be slaves again…”

A man carrying a Big Bertha driver wearing a Hawaiian shirt rises up from his seat and starts down towards the railing.  

Joe Bergman: RAY McAVAY!

McAvay, joined by Lindsay Troy, Zeb Martin, and Conor Fuse, raises the Big Bertha driver in the air to salute the fans.  

McAvay’s wife Stacee Perry (better known in the HOW universe as Dark…aka one half of Dark and Stormy- West Texas Adult Entertainment Legends) also joins him.  

Benny Newell: TITTIES!!!!!! DRINK!

Barbie-Q stands in the back sporting the classic HOW Ray McAvay ‘Show Up…Punch In…Shut Up…Get to Work baseball jersey.  

McAvay has a microphone in one hand and a large can of Budweiser in the other.

Ray McAvay: Thank you all.  Five years ago.  Five years ago, I stood inside the Roman Colosseum, halfway across the world in Rome, Italy, as the sole survivor and winner of the 2016 War Games match.  It was a team effort.  If it weren’t for Scott Stevens, Darin Zion, or Ryan McKenna, there’s no chance in hell Ray McAvay leaves Rome as the HOW World Champion.  Nothing, and I repeat, nothing, will ever top that moment- winning War Games was everything.  Winning War Games was my crowning achievement inside a wrestling ring.  

He pauses as his hometown crowd lets out a loud roar.

Ray McAvay: So here I am again.  2021 War Games.   I’m sure you’re thinking ‘why now?’  Why has Ray McAvay returned to HOW for War Games?  Well?  Let’s make this clear- Ray McAvay isn’t coming back to play all the old hits again.

McAvay turns and nods to the Les Miserables on hand tonight: Bert the Janitor, General DeBauchery and the Vice Squad- Nic Koteen, Al Cahall, and Dave Hibachi, Dawn McGill, and ‘No Frills’ Chris Escondido.

Ray McAvay: Ray McAvay is coming back to HOW War Games because of them.

He nods towards Zeb, Conor, and LT. 

Ray McAvay: I’ve come back to help Grappler’s Local 214 win War Games 2021 in Tokyo, Japan.  

McAvay turns towards his new teammates.

Ray McAvay: Zeb.  Conor.  Teddy Palmer.  Lindsay.  I’ve had my moment.  I’ve stood at the apex of HOW.  I’m one of the lucky few who can say they are a War Games winner.  Now, this is your moment.  It’s time for you to step and experience the same thing I did in 2016. It’s your time.  It’s your turn.   I am here to help you every step of the way to make sure Grappler’s Local 214 wins the 2021 War Games.  

McAvay raises his can of beer and then drinks it down.  Then he raises the golf club in the air again and leaves with LT, Zeb and Conor.

Joe Hoffman: So there you have it, Ray McAvay is coming back to HOW for War Games.  

Benny Newell: If he’s not bringing the strippers back so I can lick barbeque sauce of their tits, I don’t give a fu-…

Suddenly the spotlight shines on the edge of Section 214.  

Stacee Perry: Dammit Benny, get it right.  It’s adult entertainers.

Joe Hoffman: Yeah Benny.  Get it right. 

Benny gives Joe a ‘what the fuck’ stare as we cut to commercial.

Joe Hoffman: Welcome back everyone from our final commercial of the evening and it’s main event time!

Benny Newell: Best Alliance? Check. Jatt Starr Check. LSD Championship match of awesomeness? Check. Teddy Palmer going to die? Double check, double DRINK!

Joe Hoffman: I feel like that was a lot there, Benny.

Benny Newell: Don’t hate the player, fuckhoff, hoffhole!

Joe Hoffman: We’ll folks, we’re only moments away from our main event here tonight! Jatt Starr will defend his LSD Championship against Teddy Palmer in a falls count anywhere match.

Benny Newell: Palmer is a dead man. This falls count anywhere match is going to humble the fucker. This match has no rules so our beloved LSD Champion can do whatever the fuck he wants to do tonight.

“Hold up a light” by Thrice hits the PA as Palmer emerges from the back. There is no Grapplers 214 with him as he heads down to the ring alone.

Bryan McVay: The following contest is a falls count anywhere match…and it is for the LSD Championship! Making his way to the ring first, from Toronto, Ontario, Canada, he weighs in at 235 pounds, the challenger…..TEDDY PAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALMER!

Palmer storms up the ring steps and through the ropes as he walks over to one of the turnbuckles and stands in wait as his eyes become completely fixed on that entrance ramp.

Joe Hoffman: This is a big night for Teddy and also a big night for the Grapplers 214 to seize an opportunity at taking a championship away from the Best Alliance.

Benny Newell: No, hoffmeister, it’s another night for the Gaping Grapplers to shit the bed again. The Best Alliance has had their number and that streak is going to continue with a Jatt win tonight baby!

“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 being followed by his hulking, disfigured bodyguard/employee Hugo Scorpio, is Jatt Starr. The Ruler of Jattlantis smugly walks down the ramp carrying a walking cane with a weighted spherical head which has an inscription that reads “Mr. Whacky”.

Bryan McVay: And his opponent, he reigns from Havre Montana, weighing in at 225 pounds he is the LSD Champion….JATT STAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAR!!

att Starr hands Hugo his cane, “Mister Whacky”, walks up the ring steps and enters the ring. In the center of the ring, he kneels down as a single purple spotlight shines upon him, as if the HOW gods themselves are showering him in the “their” light. Jatt Starr rises as the purple light fades, the house lights once again illuminates the ring.

Joe Hoffman: Well it looks like Jatt came alone without the rest of the Best Alliance. Jatt is looking to keep the days ticking forward when it comes to his championship.

Benny Newell: Well of course he’s going to, Hasselhoff. The man may not be all there mentally, but he’s a very dangerous man inside those ropes and I think we’re going to fucking see Jatt hold onto his championship and keep the Best Alliance moving forward on all cylinders.

Hortega doesn’t even need to check either opponent before this match seeing as it’s falls count anywhere where anything goes. Instead he calls for the bell.

Ding Ding

Jatt and Teddy eye each other for the first few moments after the bell before they walk to the center of the ring and square up against each other. Before long, the two lock up attempting to fight for the upper hand. A test of strength ensues before the two fight for control but it’s not going anywhere. Palmer looks like he’s starting to win the battle, but Jatt isn’t going to have it as he sends a first class priority knee package to the solarplex of Palmer causing him to double over which give Jatt full control as he is able to connect with a snap suplex sending Palmer down in the center of the ring. Jatt doesn’t wase any time in rolling out of the ring in search of something he can keep the advantage with.

Joe Hoffman: It doesn’t look like Jatt is going to take any chances here tonight.

Benny Newell: If it were me in that ring trying to hold onto my championship, I’d be doing the exact same fucking thing! Jatt is a true champion and there’s no foul play to be had when you’re fighting to hold onto gold.

Jatt finally pulls out a kendo stick from under the ring as he rolls back into the square circle and targets Palmer. He sends the kendo stick smack dab in the middle of Palmer’s chest as he begins an onslaught of shots to Palmer as Palmer isn’t able to keep the attacks from Jatt at bay. Jatt continues to apply the kendo stick law in effect until it finally breaks in half. Jatt takes a few knees to the already vulnerable area of Palmer as Palmer attempts to stop the fiesta. Jatt grabs palmer and thrusts him into the corner turnbuckle. Jatt doesn’t lay off the quick pace as he charges towards Palmer, but Palmer moves out of the way as Starr hits the corner.

Palmer takes the opportunity to deliver strikes of his own into Jatt. He takes advantage of Jatt’s unbalance as he sends a high knee strike of his own into the jaw of Jatt. Jatt comes sailing forward before Palmer picks him up and delivers a spinning sidewalk slam onto Jatt. Palmer drops down for the cover.

UNO

DOS

Joe Hoffman: Jatt with that kickout there. Palmer trying to reverse his fortunes early, but he’s going to have to stay on Starr to do it.

Benny Newell: I don’t like your tone there, hoffhole. Palmer knows it’s not going to matter what he does here tonight. He knows he’ll be lucky to get some good shots on Jatt, maybe. It’s inevitable. The Best Alliance knows no bounds when it comes to winning. That’s why Teddy is going to pull through this.

Palmer sends some right, stiff, elbows into the face of Jatt before he picks him off the mat. Palmer ricochets Jatt into the ropes, but Jatt comes flying back at him quite literally, and takes Palmer off his feet with a clothesline. This allows Jatt to get his bearings back as Palmer gets back to his feet only to be met with an inverted atomic drop. Palmer gets to one knee as Jatt runs at him again and connects with an enziguri sending Palmer back down on his back. Jatt goes for the cover.

UNO

DOS

KICKOUT

Joe Hoffman: Jatt doesn’t quite get the count that he was looking for there.

Benny Newell: Patience comes to those who wait hoffipuff. What you think The Best Alliance became great overnight? I mean, they did, but their about the long game and the long game always pays off.

Jatt smiles as he scoffs at Hortega and goes to pick Palmer back up, but Palmer surprises him with a headbutt to the temple of Jatt. Palmer bounces off the ropes and connects with a springboard flying elbow straight to the temple of Jatt as Jatt rolls out of the ring and onto the floor outside. Jatt slowly gets to his feet as Palmer rushes the ropes again as he sets his target on Jatt. Palmer flies out through the second rope as he attempts a suicide dive, but Jatt shoves him straight into the barricade and to the floor.

Joe Hoffman: Oh smart thinking by Jatt there basically seizing the moment away from Teddy.

Benny Newell: My grandma could have flown better. She would have broken her god damn hip on impact, but it would have been glorious!

Hoffman just scratches his head as he looks awkwardly at Benny. Meanwhile, Jatt picks up Palmer and flips him straight into the barricade. Jatt walks away briefly as he goes to get Mr. Whacky. He proceeds back around the corner as he goes to deliver a shot, but Palmer blocks it! Palmer grabs it and literally yanks Mr. Whacky away from Jatt. Jatt retaliates, but Palmer is quick to pull the trigger first by sending a blow to Jatt’s midsection and it is now Jatt that is doubled over. Palmer rolls back to his feet as he smiles before delivering a series of premeditated strikes to the back of Jatt with Mr. Whacky. Palmer then proceeds to grab Jatt and send him back first into the steel ring steps. Palmer actually goes for the first cover outside of the ring.

UNO

DOS

KICKOUT!

Joe Hoffman: Palmer almost had Jatt right there! He’s using Jatt’s own psychology against him!

Benny Newell: This is absolute dog shit hoffy! That cane belongs to Jatt and Palmer has no right to use Jatt’s dependency against him!

Joe Hoffman: Well this is a falls count anywhere, anything goes type of match so I guess you could say Jatt had that coming to him.

Benny Newell: Oh fuck you to the highest degrees of royal fuck yous, Hoff! Palmer is playing unfairly and he knows he can’t get the job done by himself so he belittles our beloved champion with his own cane!

Jatt is now crawling away from the ringside area and up to the ramp as he looks for some type of relief. That relief isn’t following him, though, as Palmer is not far behind. Palmer grabs a steel chair from under the ring as he pursues Jatt. Jatt is able to turn around and face Palmer as Palmer goes for a chair shot on Jatt, but misses. This allows Jatt to get to his feet quickly as he goes for a quick eye poke temporarily subduing the championship challenger. Jatt grabs Palmer before he hits a Falling Star right into the steel ground of the ramp as Jatt looks down and smiles. However, Jatt sees Hortega right beside him and all of a sudden remembers that this is a falls count anywhere match. He smiles suddenly like it was a nicely wrapped birthday gift as he goes for the cover on Palmer.

UNO

DOS

Benny Newell: SWEET DREAMS TEDDY!!!

TRES

Joe Hoffman: PALMER KICKS OUT!!!

Benny Newell: HOW IN THE SAM HILL OF FUCKS DID HE KICK OUT?!!

Jatt can’t believe it as he starts to release several flurries of rights at Palmer. Jatt picks up the steel chair and delivers a hard shot straight to the back of Teddy. Teddy rolls back down towards the ring as Jatt is in pursuit. Jatt takes another swing, this time busting open one of the Grapplers 214. Jatt admires his work as he goes to pick up a struggling Palmer. Palmer is dazed as Jatt sends him straight towards the steel ring post but Palmer uses his own momentum out of desperation and instead sends Jatt hurling into the steel ring post promptly busting him open as well as both men fall to the ground.

Joe Hoffman: My god both these guys leaving it all out there tonight! Jatt and Teddy are DOWN! It’s going to come down to who wants it more tonight!

Benny Newell: That was a fucking cheap shot from Palmer! He should get disqualified for that!

Joe Hoffman: Uh…Benny…there are no disqualifications in this match!

Benny Newell: You don’t think I know that dickhead?! I’m just saying, Palmer had to resort to desperation to even getting Jatt off his feet.

Both men are still down as Hortega checks on the both of them. Obviously he can’t begin a ten count since this is a falls count anywhere match. Jatt is the first one who starts to stir as Palmer is now getting his bearing back as well. Jatt finally makes it up to his feet as he grabs Mr. Whacky this time and starts to stalk Palmer. Palmer crawls towards the ring and uses it to get back to his feet before rolling under the bottom rope. Jatt follows suit as he smiles from ear to ear waiting to hit Palmer with Mr. Whacky. Palmer gets back to his feet in the corner turnbuckle as he slowly turns around. Jatt already took off, though, charging towards Palmer in the corner but as Jatt swings Mr. Whacky at Palmer, Teddy moves out of the way and Mr. Whacky hits the turnbuckle which causes a bounce back effect as Mr. Whacky comes back and hits Jatt in the face. It’s during this time that Palmer grabs a dazed Jatt and connects with the UnscripTED. Palmer crashes to the ground, still tired, as he hooks the leg of Jatt.

UNO

DOS

TRES!

Ding Ding!

Benny Newell: WHAT THE FUCK?!

Joe Hoffman: I don’t believe it! Palmer finds a way!

Bryan McVay: Here is your winner……and the NEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEW LSD CHAMPION…….TEDDY….PAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALMER!

Palmer rolls over to his back, completely exhausted from the match, smiling after winning the LSD Championship. Hortega hands the belt to Palmer, who rests it on his stomach, as he continues to soak it all in.

Joe Hoffman: What a hard fought match by these two and a well deserved win for Palmer!

Benny Newell: This is bullshit! Palmer clearly cheated!

Suddenly we see Lindsay Troy, Conor Fuse and Zeb Martin make their way out to the entrance ramp……clapping and cheering on their stablemate and new LSD Champion. Troy looks behind her but does not see their newest member, Ray McAvay, trailing behind her.

As they reach the top of the ramp the HOV comes to life and stops them in their tracks……

Live video begins to play from the backstage area on the HOV. Nothing can be seen even by the camera. Ray’s voice cuts out darkness.

Ray McAvay: Okay guys you got me, very funny picking on the new team member. Can we please turn the lights back on?

He chuckles slightly but the lights remain off. The sound of the dressing room door can be heard opening and closing off in the distance. Ray stands up in the darkness and looks over in the direction of the door.

Ray McAvay: Stacee is that you?!

He calls out but there is no answer. Ray fumbles around in the dark trying to find a way to get the lights back on when suddenly…

WHACK!

The sound of metal hitting flesh echoes throughout the room. The lights flicker back on as Ray is seen laid out on his stomach on the floor of the dressing room. His Big Bertha driver inches away from his fingertips. The assailant is seen standing over Ray holding a steel chair in his hands.

“Get the fuck up!”

Ray pulls himself up to his feet slowly only to have the edge of the steel chair buried deep into gut. All the air in Ray’s lungs exits his body in a gasp as his falls back onto his ass to the dressing floor. The assailant tosses the chair down to the floor as Ray holds his midsection while doubled over in pain trying to suck in oxygen. For the first time the camera pans up to show the identity of tonight’s attacker.

Jace. Parker. Davidson.

With a snarl Jace leans down and grabs a hold of Ray by the collar of his shirt and speaks to him directly in the face.

Jace Parker Davidson: You didn’t really think that you of all people would be the big reveal tonight, did ya? Did you really believe after what happened in 2016 that I wouldn’t come back? That I would just let you waltz in and steal another War Games?!

Ray rears his head back the comes forward with a headbutt that staggers JPD for a moment. Ray pulls himself back up to his feet ready for a fight but JPD rakes him in the eyes before planting him with a double arm ddt down onto the steel chair. JPD pulls himself back up as Ray is a bloody mess on the floor.

Jace Parker Davidson: I said get the fuck up you son of a bitch!

Ray scratches and claws his way to a seated position. His face the proverbial crimson mask as JPD grabs a hold of the Big Bertha driver off the floor.

Jace Parker Davidson: Oh… and before I forget………..Lee Best and his checkbook sends his regards.

WHACK!

JPD swings the golf club striking Ray right in the temple of his already bloody face. JPD raises his right hand up over his eyes as if to see how far his shot went with a sickening grin on his face. JPD drops the club onto the lifeless body of Ray McAvay and exits the dressing room as the feed from the HOV ends.

We cut back inside the arena and we see why the rest of the Grapplers Union did come to the aid of their newest member as we see them once again brawling with The Best Alliance.

Like the previous few weeks we see the two stables brawling at the top of the entrance ramp. Sektor and Harrison are teaming up on Conor Fuse. Hughie and Byrd are focused on Lindsay Troy and Steve Solex and Zeb Martin are exchanging heavy right hands as Refueled comes to an end as we see the new LSD Champion racing up the ramp as the St. Louis fans go crazy.

**HOURS AFTER THE SHOW**

Lee Best: You told me last week that I would have my answer this week…..you saw how the show ended. You saw the return of JPD to take out the man that essentially ended his HOW career back in 2016 when Ray McAvay won the World Title at War Games….you saw ALL THAT….and still……nothing.

We see the GOD of HOW lean forward and again appears to be speaking into darkness……as there is no movement or reply.

Lee Best: Look here motherfucker. I said a few weeks ago you are either with me…or against me. People are starting to make their choices and you are out of time. The roster is going to be split into literal two as we head into War Games…..MAKE YOUR FUCKING CHOICE!!!!!

Now the GOD of HOW stands up and screams into the darkness.

Again no reply.

Lee Best: Fine…….looks like you will be taking on the same schedule as the Son. Next week you will…..

“I’ve chosen”

Lee pauses as the reply comes from the darkness. Slowly the owner of the voice steps forward.

Still not having vision, Lee is unable to see the man come into picture, but the viewers on HOTv can.

Cancer Jiles.

High Octane World Champion.

Cancer Jiles: I choose the Best Alliance……and give me the Main Event next week.

With those words Lee smiles and he sits back down as the camera focuses in on the World Champion who is sporting all new clear.

His choice is clear.

Cancer Jiles is officially the World Champion of The Best Alliance.