Refueled LX

The High Octane Television logo gives way and we are once again LIVE for another edition of Refueled.

Tonight we are live from the Gila River Arena here in Glendale Arizona. The event is sold out with 17,125 lucky souls packed into the arena for the event tonight.

We cut live inside the arena and we see the entire Best Alliance standing in a straight line in the middle of the ring with Lee Best in front holding a microphone.

The crowd is on their feet as Lee raises the microphone and begins to speak.

Lee Best: We are a little over a month away from the annual War Games pay per view and this year……well this year there is something different in the air. This year the entire roster is being torn down the middle as folks continue to choose sides heading into literally the biggest match of the year. The men standing behind me have already made their choice and they have chosen to go to war with ME.

Lee pauses as the Arizona crowd boos as the GOD of HOW smiles.

Lee Best: Ah….it has been awhile since I have heard that lovely sound. But you see….that shit don’t matter to me…and it sure as fuck does not matter to the men standing behind me. That is why I wanted to start the show tonight with a simple message……..time is running out. You folks have two more weeks to make your decision. You are either with the GOD of HOW….or you are with the bore of the 214…..Lindsay Troy.

There is a clear positive response from the fans at the mere mention of Lindsay Troy and the 214 stable.

Lee Best: Do not listen to these fans….listen with your wallet and your mind. When you do that…there is only once choice……The Best Alliance.

Lee holds the microphone off to his side and waits for the next member of the Best Alliance to step up to speak.

JPD grabs the microphone as he and Solex stand in the forefront.

Redrum, who was standing directly behind Lee, steps up and helps the GOD of HOW to the far turnbuckle and we see the GOD of HOW lean against the turnbuckle as we see Jace and Solex take the lead.

The camera focuses in on Solex as he pulls out a bottle of baby oil. Solex begins to rub himself down while flexing as Jace raises the mic to his lips.

JPD: Tonight ladies and gentlemen in the main event myself and Solex are gonna right the wrongs of last week. We’re gonna push Zeb Martin and Ray McAvay to the limit and win back those HOW World Championship belts. We’re going to do it by stomping their heads into the ground and there isn’t a damn thing that Teddy Palmer or Lindsay Troy can do that’s gonna stop us.

The crowd boo’s loudly as Jace just soaks it in with a smile on his face.

JPD: Why? Simple, it’s because I’m The King of Everything and I was built to have gold around my waist!

Once again the crowd shows their disapproval as JPD hands the microphone over to fellow Best Alliance member Jatt Starr.

Jatt Starr: Jatt Starr, Alcoholic, War Games Winner, Tournament of Champions Winner, First Ever HOW Grand Slam Champion, HOW Hall of Famer, etcetera, etcetera. Look, people, I am still suffering the effects of a massive disappointment from last week. It’s an atrocity that Lindsay Troy rode Theodore Palmer’s coattails to a championship. It’s disgusting that those two fornicating frauds are traipsing around the LSD and Tag Team Championships spreading Anti-Jatt Starr poppycock, and manipulating second tier wrestlers to join their sham of a “Union”. Enjoy it now, you fopdoodles, but just remember….in the end, I and the Best Alliance always wins.

Jatt throws the microphone over his shoulder to a very large,confused, and laughing Behemoth.

Clay Byrd: Did ya just say fopdoodles? Jesus Christ… No wonder ya lost ta the guy stealin’ the Mom jeans out of Troy’s closet…

The crowd erupts laughing while Clay steps to the middle of the ring wagging his finger like Dikembe Motumbo. As Jatt Starr mumbles incoherently under his breath.

Clay Byrd: Naa… the discount Californians and Texans in attendance don’t get ta laugh at that…

The crowd immediately turns back to jeering The Best Alliance.

Clay Byrd: Naw listen ya’ll. I’m sure Arizona is a great place fer retirees. Ya’ll prolly got a lot of PRIME real estate fer everyone’s favorite soon ta be washed up has been. I’m sure Emmit rented a nice place out here when he came to die…

Clay pauses and basks in the jeers raining down from the crowd. Clay puts his finger to his lips, shushing the crowd who immediately get louder.

Clay Byrd: Now any of y’all realtors in attendance wanna make sure Ms. Troy gets a business card and some advice on which bumble fuck gated retirement communities ya’ll have out here in discount Florida, it would be much appreciated. Cause next time I get my hands on her, she’ll be callin’ ta buy a place in this gutter trash has-been shit hole.

Clay walks over and passes the mic to Harrison. The crowds begins tossing trash at the ring. He stares out at the unfriendly crowd in Glendale and a smirk of course comes to his beautiful face.

Steve Harrison: Thanks for the love Arizona, hope you get those votes counted. This trash in the ring smells better than most of you idiots.

Harrison shakes his head at the beer cans now in the ring.

Steven Harrison: Standing before you are not just a group but THE group that dominates HOW. Tonight, I take another step to prove that is the case when I become the number one contender to the HOFC title. Do not think that means I have forgotten about the disrespect I have received from some veterans that have one pinkie left on their relevance. I am going to snap those pinkies and give you a reference for a small business loan so you can open your own Arby’s.

Harrison laughs with a shrug because Arby’s is straight garbage and so are the Grapplers.

Steve Harrison: Fucking gross. The Miracle Man is quite upset that he must amuse these leeches trying to get a name off his back. This is not a game anymore. There will be no more jokes just swift action that leave you all licking my goddamn boot. Isn’t that right, Jiles? He knows and he is the Champion that will lead The Best Alliance while I do the work that needs to be done. Nobody is safe and run as you may The Man that defines Miracles will hunt you down with no fucking chill and leave you unconscious in your own bodily fluids.

Harrison turns towards Jiles and they stare at each other for a few seconds before Harrison hands him the mic with a wink and then pats him on the back.

The World Champion begins to look around; acting as if doing so will help him digest everything he’s just heard. Then, he raises the mic to his mouth and reacts disgustedly. He quickly drops it from his grasp, walks over to a nearby ringside assistant, and demands a new one. One that, “doesn’t smell like a picked over dirty anus” as he so eloquently put it for the camera to pick up. Wish granted, he addresses both the crowd and the collection of men standing in the ring before him.

Jiles: And there you have it ladies and gentlemen, the Best Alliance. Go us! How about a round of applause for the traveling sideshow we’ve become?

A scoff.

And a few solo claps.

The most diehard of deviants.

Jiles: Fucking Best Alliance. We don’t need no stinking introductions, dood. This isn’t fucking AA. We carry Championships, not Blue Chips and lassos. I’m embarrassed. He’s embarrassed. Solex isn’t wearing a shirt and is covered in baby oil so he’s obviously embarrassed about something. You all should be embarrassed.

The COOLYMPIAN embarrassingly spits. The black lunger coincidentally lands right at Jatt Starr’s feet.

Coincidentally.

Jiles: I didn’t come on, or “sell out” to watch everyone else shit the bed around me. I’m not here to suffer through you. That will not be the case. No sir. If you fail, you will know about it. If you bother me, you will know about it. If you look funny, you will know about it. If you don’t like it, then get the fuck out. I don’t give a fuck who you think you are.

The World Champion lowers his BA-shades for just a second to shoot Harrison an informative glare. Then, the raucous sold out crowd starts a short, but loud “you sold out” chant. Jiles no sells it to the best of his abilities.

The dynamite hair helps.

Jiles: And know, I will not hesitate — not for one second — to lobby for Laser, Rummy, or GOD himself to help me defend my World Title at War Games instead of any of you. I’ll get it over, too, because that is what I do. I’d rather die up on that cross before I let another group of uninspired, coattailling crumb bums bury me alive again. That’s a fucking promise. Oh, and screw the Union.

Content, Jiles walks the fresh smelling mic over to his benefactor.

Redrum reaches out and grabs the microphone from the World Champion and hands it back to Lee….who remains propped up in the corner.

Lee Best: Well THAT was embarrassing Champ….might want to work on that….you are no longer part of a fucking comedy squad..….speaking of funny…….Harrison….come here….

Harrison turns slowly towards Lee and makes his way towards the leader of the Best Alliance as Redrum stares a hole thru his soul.

Lee Best: Tonight you get a shot to defeat Xander Azula in that secondary HOFC octagon we got set up here in Arizona….you win you get my Son aboard the USS Octane for the HOFC Championship…..

Harrison nods as Lee gets the obvious info out of the way…

Lee Best: …….but before we get to that……

WHACK

Lee rears back his right hand and slaps Harrison across the face.

Harrison instinctively raises his right fist to swing at Lee but he is stopped by Redrum who grabs his arm.

WHACK

Lee slaps Harrison again as the crowd is now buzzing and the rest of the Best Alliance are not exactly surprised by what they are seeing.

After the second slap Lee takes a couple steps forward and stares directly into Harrison’s eyes and the Miracle Man has no idea if Lee can actually see him but the bloodied and still bruised eyes of the GOD of HOW tell him that just maybe he can.

Lee Best: You ever do that shit again in public let alone on the FUCKING PHONE with me and your ass will not only be out of the fucking Best Alliance but out of High Octane Wrestling entirely. You fucking got me?

Harrison slowly nods…..generally pissed off for getting called out in the middle of the ring and live on HOTv.

Lee Best: I could not hear you…..are you stupid or just…..

Lee smiles as he pauses for the cause…..

WHACK

A third slap across Harrison’s face and the man lunges towards Lee but Redrum holds him back and a smirk comes across Lee’s face.

Lee Best: Answer me before I break my fucking hand over that fucking jaw of yours….

Harrison does not say a word.

Lee leans in and is a mere few inches away from the man.

“I got…..you”

Not satisfied Lee reaches into his pocket and pulls out his Bottom Line pen and the crowd goes crazy.

“I got you…I got you…fucking hell I got you…..I am sorry!!!”

NOW Lee is satisfied and he motions for Harrison to fall back…..which the man does quickly.

Lee Best: Enjoy the show folks…….its going to be a real fucking banger.

With that Lee tosses the microphone over his shoulder and we cut to our first commercial break of the evening.

Back live and we join the Hall of Fame announce team for the first time tonight.

Joe Hoffman: Well what a way to star the show…Lee laying down some heavy handed comments quite literally to the rest of the roster and specifically to Steve Harrison.

Benny Newell: We all know Lee lets almost everyone do what they want in the backstage area…..but there are just some things you do NOT do. Harrison hopefully takes the lesson and moves on.

Joe Hoffman: There is no doubt about that when you cross one of those lines that Lee will make sure he embarrasses you in front of the masses and not behind a closed door.

Benny Newell: Perk of having your own network Joe.

Joe Hoffman: Cannot argue that Benny. Well it should be a really interesting first contest of the evening here on the 68^th edition of Refueled. Sutler Reynolds-Kael against newcomer Lester Moregrimes.

Benny Newell: And as green as Moregrimes is, he has a hundred pounds on Sutler.

Joe Hoffman: Actual color commentary, Benny?

Benny Newell: Fuck, don’t worry, I’ll mail it in the rest of the night.

The scene switches to ringside with Bryan McVay.

Bryan McVay: Welcome to the opening bout… introducing first, from Yonkers, New York, weighing two-hundred-eight-one pounds… Lester Moregrimes!

“Panama” by Van Halen begins on the PA as the six-foot-five newest signee to High Octane emerges from the curtain. He slowly makes his way down to the ring, as the Arizona audience takes his presence in.

Joe Hoffman: Given Lester’s opponent, you can hear the crowd already starting to cheer this brawler from NY.

“Believer” by Solence roars out over the Gila River Arena as the crowd rises to their feet to boo the arrival of the Son of Scions. The lights black out as a single pillar of white light shines down on the stage while a billowing white fog boils up from the metal grates. Slowly sauntering out onto the stage was the President of Human Resources, his black and #97Red hair splashed playfully across his face while his leather jacket hangs over his shoulders and bare chest.

Bryan McVay: And his opponent, from Chicago, Illinois, standing at six-feet and weighing one-hundred-eight-nine pounds…

On the stage, Sutler poses as the house lights come up to the heavy guitar rifts of the metal cover of Believer.

Bryan McVay: He is the President of Human Resources, the World’s Greatest Gamer, the Son of Scions and High Octane Wrestling’s Employee of the Week… SUTLER REYNOLDS-KAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAEL!

A series of pyro explodes around Sutler as he casually makes his way to the ring ignoring the jeers and booing from the fans around him. Over the sound of booing, the obvious sound of Sutler’s name being chanted can be heard, clearly an attempt to drown out the negative reaction to the Crown Prince of High Octane.

Reaching the ring, Sutler hops up onto the apron pausing for a moment to measure his opponent up while demanding that Matt Boettcher keep Lester on his side of the ring. Content that his demands are being met, Sutler finally enters, swaggering confidently to the center of the ring where he lifts one finger high into the air while he cuts his thumb across his neck with the other before “Believer” dies down.

DING DING

Joe Hoffman: And we are off… Sutler’s looking for an opening but with Moregrimes’ size and physical appearance, that is easier said than done.

Reynolds-Kael reaches towards Moregrimes’ head, in an attempt to apply a headlock but pulls back at the last second as Moregrimes fires a right forearm. Sutler catches on quickly, though. He eases towards Moregrimes again, looking for that same headlock but is clearly playing possum as he slips underneath Moregrimes, bounces off the ropes and dropkicks the New York native in the back of his right knee.

Moregrimes shouts as he collapses to the mat and Sutler hits the ropes again, looking to dropkick the second leg out from under.

Joe Hoffman: Lester clobbers Kael with a forearm smash!

Sutler flips inside-out as he crashes to the mat. Moregrimes collects himself and drops a hard elbow into Sutler’s chest, knocking the air out of HR.

Joe Hoffman: Moregrimes hurls Sutler into a corner and races in with a head full of steam… big splash!

Benny Newell: I wouldn’t even say that was a splash. It was a reckless looking body smash.

Kael wobbles out and Moregrimes knocks him back to the canvas with a big boot. Lester mounts The Son of Scions and hammers his skull with a fury of right fists. Referee Matt Boettcher wants to make sure they are open palm strikes but is having a hard time telling if they are, because Moregrimes is striking so furiously.

Sutler uses the ropes to pull himself away from Moregrimes as the newcomer tries to continue the assault. This time, however, referee Boettcher asks Lester to give The President of Human Resources more space or he will count to five.

Benny Newell: Can this dumb looking “wrestling” scab count that high!?

Lester doesn’t listen to the ref. Instead, he works his way over to Sutler and attempts to kick Reynolds-Kael square in the face but Sutler uses the ropes to gain a vertical base and takes hold of Moregrimes’ knee, twisting it as he falls to the canvas with it in-between his arm and body.

Joe Hoffman: Dragon screw to the leg. Good more by Sutler. Obviously, looking to go after the legs and Moregrimes walked right into it, literally.

Sutler pulls himself off the mat, while still taking hold of Lester’s leg. Kael drives an elbow into the back of the big man’s knee. Sutler tries this again but Lester reaches forward and rakes Sutler’s eyes.

Stunned, Reynolds-Keal stumbles and swats his hands abound, unable to see and also not sure where Moregrimes is. As the bigger man rises, Lester shouts and races towards his opponent. This audio cue gives The Son of Scions enough time to duck the attack, roll past Moregrimes and dropkick him in the back of the right knee!

Joe Hoffman: Moregrimes is still on his feet… Sutler with a chop block to the leg yet again. Relentless work. He’s almost got Lester on all fours…

Sutler bounces off the ropes and superkicks Moregrimes’ knee with everything he has.

Joe Hoffman: Lester is down!

Reynolds-Kael drops an elbow into the newcomer’s patella, latches on and continues to twist at a seething pace. Moregrimes shouts, trying to swat the young Kael but can’t seem to reach him, as Sutler ensures he isn’t hit by leaning back while continuing to crank the leg.

Joe Hoffman: Moregrimes is in a world of pain.

Benny Newell: Sutler’s putting on a technical clinic.

As Sutler lets go, it’s clear Moregrimes won’t be able to stand. Sutler drops an elbow into Lester’s chest, snatches the bigger man’s head with his legs…

Joe Hoffman: The Sutler Method is locked in!

Moregrimes struggles to collect air, lowering his head and tapping out soon after.

DING DING DING

Bryan McVay: The winner of this match… SUTLER KAEL!

“Believer” by Solence plays on the PA as The President of HR drops the hold and rolls to a side of the ring.

Joe Hoffman: Suter withstood the initial fury from Lester Moregrimes but then he out-worked and out-wrestled him.

Benny Newell: Can’t be surprised. The kid may be young but he knows his ins and outs and has the genetics that you just cant teach.

The scene switches to backstage as we Sutler’s hand is raised.

We cut backstage and specifically inside the office of Lee Best.

Lee is sitting behind his desk and Redrum is standing in his customary position off to the side and in the corner of the room….ready to move at the slightest wave of the hand from the GOD of HOW.

Lee Best: Fucking waste of the opening minutes of the show that was……but if nothing else….I think Mr. Harrison will NOT make that mistake ever again.

Lee smirks as he reaches into his drawer and pulls out a bottle of Eagle Rare and pours himself a glass…..a miracle that he does not spill any.

Lee Best:  I am long passed the days of babysitting a bunch of grown ass folks. I continue to give these fuckers deadlines to get shit done and I continue to get disrespected. Tired of the shit ‘Rum. Fucking tired of it. I told these assholes to get me something before 8pm and look at it….I still have not got what I need for tonight’s show. Like what the actual fuck……makes a man think.

Lee takes a sip from his glass and moves his mouse and his laptop comes to life.

Lee Best: Go find me Sutler. If this other asshole isnt going to show up on time I might as well spend some time with the kid who is obviously willing to do whatever the fuck it takes to move up the ladder.

Redrum nods and exits the office as we fade out as Lee finishes off his glass.

The scene cuts back to ringside where the sound of Queen’s “I Want It All” is blaring across the arena. Inside the ring, standing in the middle of it sporting a white suit with the sleeves rolled up and his red HOW Hall of Fame polo underneath is Jatt Starr, who is holding a long, skinny microphone, a microphone that Bob Barker might have used in the early eighties “Price is Right”. In the center of the ring, there is a podium with a box on it. The music fades.

Jatt Starr: It is JATTURDAY NIGHT!!! And I know what you’re thinking: “Oh my gosh! Jatt Starr twice in a single night? This is at least three times more enjoyable than being forced to watch Sutler Kael five times last week!” You’re welcome!

The crowd offers up a generous applause for the Best Alliance member, but there are those in the audience who are not-so-generous.

Jatt Starr: Last week, Sektor and I were tragically defeated and we lost to Teddy Palmer in what can only be described as a two-on-one handicap match. Yes, Theodore, I am giving you your “props” as the kids say. But no one wants to hear the Ruler of Jattlantis, the Sultan of SeaJattle, the Mayor of ManJattan, the Jattlantic City Idol, the Saviour of Starrkham ramble on and on about topics ranging from Darin Zion’s bedwetting problem to Xanda Azalea’s blasphemy of the HOW gods. Instead, let me introduce my guest tonight, and Brian Bare, listen very carefully to me, you Anti-Jatt Starr muckraker…..please welcome the man who almost defeated Cancer Jiles last week, he is a member of a group that can only be classified as a third rate SARS and a fourth rate Argonauts of Awesome…Here he is…….CONNOR FUSE!!!!!

The crowd erupts with cheers, almost startling the host. “Flying Battery Zone” to Sonic Mania blares on the PA as Conor Fuse emerges from the entrance. He sports dark purple Adidas track pants and a “RETRO” t-shirt, in the design of Atari. The Vintage, however, does not look happy.

Joe Hoffman: No fun and games here for–

Benny Newell: Don’t make excuses. He lost last week. Hard.

A subdued and angry looking gamer systematically marches up the steel steps instead of jumping onto the apron and enters between the top and middle rope, instead of leaping over them.

Jatt Starr: Thank you for coming on the show.

Conor stares coldly through Jatt Starr and then robotically turns to the time keeper’s table, waving for a microphone. Once given a mic, The Vintage takes a deeeeep breath. The fans cheer as Conor raises the mic to his face but doesn’t break his trance on Jatt. Jatt laughs a little uncomfortably and readjusts his collar.

Conor Fuse: Yes?

Taken aback that’s all The Power-Up King had to say, the Ruler of Jattlantis attempts a small step backwards, in the hopes it’s not detected.

Jatt Starr: Conor, you’re a quirky guy, there’s no doubt. However, behind that quirkiness there is someone extremely talented especially after defeating the likes of High Flyer and Scottywood. It might be shocking to hear this, but I respect your abilities in the ring. It is because I respect you that I am going to do something I don’t typically do, and, man-to-man, face-to-face, open your eyes to the truth. Lindsay Troy and Teddy Palmer are malignant hemorrhoids on the buttocks of the HOW.

The Hero of Jattlanta stares at Conor Fuse, looking for a sign, any sign of understanding. Conor Fuse gives him nothing. No sense either way that anything Jatt’s said has sunken in.

Jatt Starr: What makes you unique is the fact that you play by your own rules. You play your game. To Teddy and Lindsay, you’re just a number. They are in it for themselves. Where were they last week when you were getting beaten by Cancer Jiles? Probably in the back celebrating Theodore’s victory over StarrSek Industries with their tag team belts. They only care about themselves, especially Lindsay Troy. She is a gold digging parasite who has hopped from the bed of Mike Best to Teddy Palmer’s.

Fuse finally drops his stare. He looks down at the mat to contemplate and nods.

Conor Fuse: Yeah, sorry, what were you saying? [Intense laugh] I was having a hard time hearing you, Jatt. No, no, not your fault. Just got some other stuff going on.

Fuse takes a step forward. Then another.

Conor Fuse: [Speaking quickly] I think you were saying something about my friends not being my friends or trying to warp my fragile little mind into believing your lies.

Conor takes another step forward. This time, Jatt takes a step back and it’s obvious he does.

Conor Fuse: Is that right?

Another step forward by Conor; Jatt goes back.

Conor Fuse: Well, I am at a breaking point because I haven’t had a lot of fair fights lately. High Flyer screws me here, Sutler of Catan screws me there.

As Conor takes his fifth step, Jatt backtracks quickly into a corner. Conor catches up and grabs Jatt by his collar.

Conor Fuse: Pick a side; get a message! That’s how it works in HOW, ya? And what side are you on? I KINDA LIKED YOU too, budday. You’re fun and chill… wait, WRONG ANSWER. You’re a part of the team that messed with my game. 8-4 no more!

The Vintage is breathing down Jatt’s neck, almost literally. The Champion of Jattanooga just stares back at him.

Conor Fuse: You know what was waiting for me in the Grapplers locker room tonight? A gift. A Sega Saturn pair of shorts with a card beside it. “Good try Conor, better luck next time” it said. Who sends that shit? Was that you? Everyone was in on it! Dangle the championship, then pull it away. We’ll screw this kid over!

Realizing Conor has his hands wrapped around Jatt’s neck now and is squeezing it slightly, a sense of surprise and remorse fills Conor’s face as he cautiously lets go and tussles Jatt’s hair. Fuse walks it back as Jatt opens his left eye, looking around to ensure he’s safe before pulling himself off the buckle.

Fuse shakes with anger.

Conor Fuse: I- I’m sorry, dude. I guess you could have a lot to be pissed about, too. You seem to be handling it better than I am, that’s for sure…

Fuse pauses to run an unsteady hand through his hair.

Conor Fuse: But you are with them and I don’t like you right now.

Conor looks to leave the ring but he stops upon hearing Jatt.

Jatt Starr: I am sorry to hear that. Gilda?

From the back, Gilda Starr, Jatt Starr’s daughter emerges, her athletic frame hidden by the red leather trenchcoat she is sporting as she comes down to the ring.

Jatt Starr: I was hoping you would be civil and listen to reason. I guess that’s on me. Yeah, the Best Alliance is full of scoundrels, rogues, and sociopaths. But at least WE own it.

Gilda Starr has entered the ring and taken a position behind the podium. Conor Fuse turns around defensively. At this moment, Jatt Starr strikes. In a flash, he retrieves handcuffs from his back pocket and proceeds to put one cuff around the wrist of Conor and the other around the top rope. The Hero of Jattlanta immediately backs away as a stunned Conor Fuse begins taking swings at Jatt Starr with his free hand. The HOW Hall of Famer looks offended.

Jatt Starr: You don’t like me? That breaks my heart, Conor. But, you have made it abundantly clear that you will not listen to reason. It’s too late for you. You drank their Kool-Aid and they have twisted your mind into their thinking. I am sorry, Conor. I am sorry for what will happen to you, I am.

Jatt Starr turns towards the ramp, nothing. He turns back to Conor.

Jatt Starr: Where’s your Union, Conor?

Conor fumes, at the mercy of whatever Jatt’s intentions are.

Conor Fuse: We can’t be everywhere at once, man. I don’t use a second player when I don’t have to!

The Hero of Jattlanta looks at Conor with sincerity.

Jatt Starr: They’re frauds, Conor.

The Ruler of Jattlantis heads over to the podium where the box still stands as Conor glares at Jatt Starr.

Jatt Starr: Whilst Zeb Martin disgustingly BRIBED you with a game, I was going to gift you with…..

The Sultan of SeaJattle removes the box revealing an odd looking Atari console.

Jatt Starr: Behold! The Atari Cosmos, unreleased, only about two hundred and fifty of them were made. I found this little item in auction last week, it even has a certificate of authenticity. Immaculate condition. This is as vintage as it can get. I thought it would be a nice parting gift for appearing on the show. Gilda?

Gilda Starr opens the trenchcoat, pulls out a sledgehammer and Conor’s eyes widen.

Jatt Starr: But now? It’s junk. Also, you shouldn’t have touched the hair.

With a nod from her father, the Starr prodigy brings the hammer down onto the rare Atari console system with enough force that it shatters into pieces. The King of Grapple from the Big Apple pulls the handcuff keys from his pocket and underhanded them towards Conor Fuse. They land just out of Fuse’s reach as Jatt Starr, accompanied by his daughter, leaves the ring to a chorus of boos.

The Vintage watches Jatt and his daughter ascend the rampway, as Conor hits a tipping point. Eventually, he’s able to snap the handcuff chain and stand freely in the center of the ring, cuff still on his right wrist.

Joe Hoffman: It has not been a good two weeks for this man.

Benny Newell: It has not been a good two weeks for either of these guys! And what the fuck is an Atari Comatos?

Joe Hoffman: Cosmos.

Benny Newell: Whatever.

With that we hit another commercial break.

Back live and we cut to the area just off the entrance ramp where an HOFC octagon has been set up for tonight’s No. 1 contender fight for the right to face the winner of Hollywood and the Champ later this evening.

Already in the octagon is referee Rick “Even” Stevens and Steve Harrison.

Joe Hoffman: Well looks like the punishment continues for Harrison as he gets no entrance for tonight’s fight.

Benny Newell: If Harrison survives tonight mentally….he will be fine. We shall see though. When you are in the bossman’s crosshairs it can be a motherfucker and we have seen folks quit for less before.

Joe Hoffman: We shall see wont we. A win here over the returning Xander Azula and he will be quickly back in the good graces of Lee.

The camera zooms in on Harrison and its clear the man is more than pissed off on how his night has started. He is literally bouncing back and forth like a caged animal as the whistling intro of “Engel” by Rammstein hits the PA system as Xander Azula makes his way out from the back.

Joe Hoffman: Been awhile since we have Xander. As you recall he lost to the eventual champion, Mike Best, in the semi finals of the DeNucci Cup. He made quite the impression however as he defeated current Best Alliance member Steve Solex to get to that match…and Solex was on quite the run before he got into the octagon with Azula.

Benny Newell: Bottom line is that he lost and there was only one winner….the Son.

Joe Hoffman: Once again….I cannot argue with you there Benny……well let’s focus on the action as Stevens has just signaled for the bell and the fight is official underway……again the winner of this moves on to get the next HOFC Championship opportunity.

The feed cuts to inside the octagon as we see Harrison rush towards Azula before Rick’s hand can even drop from signaling for the bell.

Harrison swings madly at Xander and misses as the man ducks under the 6’4” man and quickly grabs him around the waist and tosses Harrison back where he came from with a powerful german suplex.

Harrison rolls up against he steel mesh of the octagon and quickly jumps back up to his feet and charges at Azula once again and once again the man dodges the onslaught and executes a perfect drop toe hold and follows that up with a pointed elbow drop to the back of the head of Harrison.

Azula stays on the offensive as he begins to deliver elbow after elbow to the back of the head of Harrison, who is clearly struggling to cover up.

Stevens drops to a knee and is watching and waiting to call the fight.

Harrison is finally able to roll over to his back and uses his longer arms to push Azula off him a little to give himself some breathing room but its short lived as Azula begins punching at the ribs of Harrison and the Best Alliance member has no choice but to start squirming towards the cage in hopes to get some leverage.

But it does not come as Azula is relentless with his offense and finally the action comes to a halt as Stevens signals for the end of round one.

Joe Hoffman: What a round for Xander as he was on the offensive from the beginning as a clearly tilted Harrison was unable to land anything early…which quite frankly could have ended the fight.

Benny Newell: Man…….Harrison better get his shit together here…..and quickly.

The cameras focus in on Harrison and its clear that he is in a bad way but he has no time to really regroup as Rick signals for the second round to begin and this time its Xander Azula who rushes his opponent.

Joe Hoffman: Xander smelling blood……

Harrison barely looks up in time to see the right hand connect in the exact spot that Lee smacked him earlier….and he eats the same amount of punches before he falls against the cage.

Xander spins Harrison around and executes a perfect rolling deadlift German Suplex.

Joe Hoffman: Chaos Theory!!!!

The momentum of the move sees Harrison roll up against the far side of the octagon and he slumps against it….clearly out of it.

Xander pounces and begins dropping right hands and finally Stevens steps in and gets between Xander and Harrison and waves off the action.

Bryan McVay: WINNER OF THE FIGHT VIA TKO IN THE SECOND ROUND………….XANDER AZZZZZZUUUUUUUUUUUULLLLLLAAAAA!!!!

The crowd is shocked as Harrison, still conscious, struggling with what just happened.

Joe Hoffman: Big win here by Azula and Stevens made the right call there….Harrison was just unable to protect himself and the fight was clearly over.

Benny Newell: Oh boy……there is going to be one angry GOD tonight.

The action cuts away as we see Harrison stagger to his feet.

Cancer Jiles: What the???

Off in the corner of Jiles’ regal locker room, a broad shouldered intruder is squatting in front of his personal minifridge. The door is wide open, the vest clad man rummaging through the contents within. The humming from the appliances compressor is loud enough to have prevented him from hearing Jiles enter the room, his arrival not prompting any sort of acknowledgement.

Well, either that, or the man simply doesn’t give a shit.

Cancer Jiles: LAY-ZOOR!!!!!

The flowing haired trespasser stands from his crouched position, closing the door with a slight shove. The sound of a cap unscrewing is heard, followed by the man’s head tilting back, taking a gulp from the bottle he snagged. A grunt of surprised delight rattles in his throat. Slowly turning around, he reveals himself to our HOW World Champion.

Teddy Palmer: Voss Water…

He mumbles to himself, examining the bottle with intrigue. He takes another sip, smacking his lips together before nodding with approval. He looks up at Jiles and offers an exaggerated shaka sign.

Teddy Palmer: Bitchin’ bro. You want one?

Laser, just now arriving at the impromptu gathering, goes to apprehend the trespasser. Jiles, suddenly intrigued, reaches out and stops his Mongoloid of War and Protection.

Cancer Jiles: I’m fine, but help yourself. They are more for the help anyway, and I’m sure you Union guys are limited with Lady Troy’s set aside Hoffa budget.

Teddy Palmer: Now that you mention it, I am curious where our dues go…

The World Champ snickers at Ted’s sarcastic response before casually taking a seat not too far away from his collision course of an opponent. His hair glows from salted proximity disgust, but his face, hidden behind the BA-shades of course, reads normal.

Cancer Jiles: Say Ted, did you know that I too, was once a double champion like yourself?

Teddy Palmer: No shit?

Teddy unknowingly nods, taking a seat beside Jiles, a reasonable distance separating the two frenemies. He doesn’t bother looking over towards the de facto Best Alliance leader, but rather takes another drink of Voss Water.

Cancer Jiles: True story. Same belts and all. Matter of fact, just like you, I won the LSD championship and soon thereafter the Tag Team Championships. And, just like you, on the very next show someone else defended those Tag Team Championships for me.

The Champ pauses. And yes, there’s only one Champ no matter how many belts are in the room.

MIke Best: Toasty!

Cancer Jiles: And guess what happened next, Ted?

Teddy Two Belts shrugs with honest disinterest.

Cancer Jiles: They lost. They failed. Even in the face of zero adversity, and limited to no pressure– they failed, and what followed was so catastrophic the salt still remains on my shoes till this day.

Deontay Wilder gif.

Teddy Palmer: Totally not fair…

Teddy shakes his head with pursed lips and feigned repugnance.

Cancer Jiles: Fair or not, one of the two chosen to defend is no longer with us. The other happens to be defending your newly won, High Octane, Tag Team Championships later tonight.

The Grand Maestro grins ironically wide.

Cancer Jiles: Zeb Martin.

As if no one heard him or knew who he was talking about, Jiles again hammers.

Cancer Jiles: Zeb Martin. It was Zeb Martin, Ted. Zeb failed. Zeb is a loser who shouldn’t be trusted to defend an anthill from a magnifying glass let alone High Octane Championship gold. That said, if I were you I wouldn’t be here drinking from my fountain. I’d be checking in on a fellow scab to make sure he’s ready to hold the picket line.

Teddy Palmer: One more time, who was that? Ha, I kid. In all seriousness, top notch tale. The parallels between you and I? Kinda creepy man. Makes me think there’s some legit substance to those words. Maybe it might be wise on my part to check in on Zeb, pump some air into his tires. Get him all riled up and shit, motivated to keep my ‘Teddy Two Belts’ moniker intact. You know what I mean? What am I saying, of course you know.

Teddy presses into his knees, standing up. Laser is on high alert, perched a few feet away from the men draped in High Octane Gold, ready to attack on command.

Teddy Palmer: Simmer down, Cochise.

Teddy waves off Laser, indicating his movements are entirely peaceful. In fairness to the big man, Best Alliance and 214 interactions typically aren’t of this variety.

Teddy Palmer: Say…do ya know what my favourite part of that story is, though?

Cancer Jiles: You leaving?

Teddy Palmer: Cute, but no. It’s the ending.

Teddy lets a grin grow, looking down at the World Champ and his prized possession.

Teddy Palmer: If I’m following the same path as you, am I in the midst of fulfilling my destiny? Better yet, did you just fortune tell your own fate? I do owe you one, afterall.

Teddy gyrates his hips with extended arms, mimicking the fluidity of catching some waves.

Teddy Palmer:  I haven’t forgotten about that surfboard super kick. How could I? It’s spawned so many friggin’ memes and gifs, it’s unreal bro. Not that I’m complaining or anything, I don’t mind the clout.

Teddy takes the final sip from his Voss water, dropping the empty on the carpeted floor of the locker room.

Teddy Palmer: But I do owe you one. Just a bit of food for thought my man. And hey, between you and I? A little birdie told me there might be a big ol brawl later tonight. If so, it’d be really COOL of you to join us. I’ll see ya around…

Teddy pats Cancer on the shoulder with a tad more force than your typical friendly gesture. He offers his trademark wink as his sly grin beams it’s brightest beneath his beard. A fist bump is offered to Laser, but he declines, or doesn’t understand the getsure. Teddy glances at Jiles’ World Championship, then back at The Maestro.

Teddy Palmer: …Champ.

We cut to a commercial break.

Returning from commercial break we are treated to the shadow interior of Lee Best’s personal office here at the Gila River Arena. The God of HOW has not moved since asking for Redrum to summon Sutler earlier in the night.  As the crowd sees Lee they begin to boo loudly.

Sutler Reynolds-Kael: Did you see that?

The voice of the President of Human Resources calls out before appears walking toward Lee with a book under his arm.

Lee Best: What the fuck am I supposed to have seen?

The Patriarch of the Best Family turns his bald head, those bloodshot, blind eyes staring off into the void.

Sutler Reynolds-Kael: Okay, I’ll admit it, it’s a poor choice of words but surely you heard me beat that chip off the old disposable character block, Lester Moregrimes? Further proof that I deserve to be higher up on the ca-

Lee Best: I don’t give a fuck, dipshit. I’ll tell YOU when you’re ready to move up MY card. Now.

The boss leaned back into his chair, his face once again being washed in shadows as Sutler glared at his grandfather with a feral, animalistic sneer.

Lee Best: Do you have the book?

The Son of Scions sighs and rolls his eyes, fishing the book he had tucked beneath his arm free. The #97Red book is titled Great Moments In HOW with a cartoonish, unhappy looking Lee Best scowling on the cover.

Sutler Reynolds-Kael: Yeah, I found it but you must be joking.. It’s.. you realize what kind of book this is right?

Lee Best: Do I look like I’m fucking joking, kid?

The youthful wrestler stares in the direction of Lee who seems completely unchanged, a scowl visible in the shadows. After a few moments Sutler throws his hands up in defeat, his face clearly saying “Okay, you fucking weirdo” though he is careful not to say so with his lips.

He pulls the book open as the first page opens up to reveal that this is a children’s popup book. The first image appears to show Scott Stevens, much younger with a broad smile across his face with both of his eyes, fewer scars and definitely no dick tattoo.

Sutler Reynolds-Kael: Scott was a top notch pick. He’s Texas born and bred. He was pretty good, or so the headlines once read.

Pulling a small tab down the pop up image of Stevens changes, he looks tired and beaten. A scar cuts down his face as looks far more weathered and sad. Something red appears to have been stuffed in his mouth. Sutler stifles a laugh as he continues to read.

Sutler Reynolds-Kael: Scott’s fall was pretty sad. Tara straight buried him. Tampon in his mouth, his career fell dim. The Scorpion died. his life now a joke, this that cannot be denied. Huh..This is titled Great Moments in Wrestling and this doesn’t feel like a moment this is more like a person who was so-so.

Lee Best: Describe it.

Looking up from the book with a raised eyebrow, Sutler stared at Lee in confusion.

Lee Best: I said describe it, motherfucker!

The Son of Scions is startled by the God of HOW’s outburst, his eyes darting back down at the pop-up book as he squints his eyes at the pop up picture.

Sutler Reynolds-Kael: ..I.. I don’t know, it’s young guy with a beard but if you pull the tab down he turns into the creepy guy in the wheelchair that keeps asking for a handicap access to the Best Arena… he kinda looks like Scott Stevens.

Lee lashes out and slaps a lamp off his desk though its clear it was trying to slap Sutler. Not wanting his grandfather to continue swinging randomly for him, Sutler lets out a delayed yelp.

Lee Best: That IS Scott Stevens, you fuckwit!

Sutler Reynolds-Kael: Ooooh. I didn’t recognize him without the dick tattoo. I wonder what’s next? Oooh it has Jatt and.. What’s a Princess Angel?

DING!

Before Sutler can read the next page his phone chimes to life distracting him. He sets the book down and reads the message on his phone before a low groan escapes his throat.

Sutler Reynolds-Kael: Well Grandpa Zombieeyes, looks like somebody called in a 1013 so we’ll have to catch up later, mmkay?

Sutler snapped the book close and tossed it across the room as he stood up.

Sutler Reynolds-Kael: I’ll leave the book here on the side of your desk if you want to read it on your own and I’ll be back once I get this all cleaned up.

Hopping up out of his chair, Sutler made his way out of the office as Lee began to reach out, his hand sweeping across the desk looking for the book.

Lee Best: ..Sutler.. Dipshit? Where’s the book.. Hey.. Where’s the Fucking Book!? SUTLER!?

The GOD of HOW continues to fume as he fumbles around for the book before Sutler sneaks back on screen whispering into it.

Sutler Reynolds-Kael: …out…

Sneaking away the camera refocuses back on Lee who has returned to quietly scowling in the shadows before we go ringside.

We cut back to ringside where Bobby Dean is already in the ring, to some fanfare but not much. Not like it used to be anyway.

Joe Hoffman: Up next, Bobby Dean versus High Flyer. Lot’s of experience in this one.

Benny Newell: Lots of losses, too.

All Aboard! AH HA HA HA HA HA HA HA…

A light fog rises up 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.

Joe Hoffman: Who do you like in this one?

Benny Newell: The time keeper.

Flyer 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.

While Flyer is gazing out, Bobby Dean, maybe fed up with life, his position in the company, his weight watcher’s point total, something, rushes across the ring. He grabs Flyer by the tights and rips him down the second rope, spins him quickly around and drops Flyer with a stiff knife edge chop that echoes throughout the building.

Hortega quickly calls for the bell and things are officially underway.

DING~!

Joe Hoffman: Bobby showing a little more… tenacity, Benny. Do you think it has anything to do with Mike Best ghosting him?

Benny Newell: DRINK!

Bob, with the quick upperhand, lays a few boots to Flyer’s solar plexus causing his opponent to roll under the bottom rope and out of the ring. Instead of making snow angels on the outside, The Gemini Man tries to gather his bearings.

Joe Hoffman: Early edge to Dean.

The Honaleen mockingly sits on the second rope and invites Flyer to join him back in the ring. Flyer rolls under the bottom rope and quickly charges Bobby for even daring to be so insolent. The two engage in a full on scrum with both men getting in their licks. Figurative. Flyer, eventually gets the better of it landing a series of kicks to Bob’s soft tissue abdomen, and finishes the attack with a short headbut clean across the bridge of Bobby’s nose.

BREAK. BLOOD.

Dean’s nose looks like a broken faucet as blood flows out of his nostrils.

Flyer reaches down and scoop slams his bleeding opponent with vigor onto the mat. Blood splatters everywhere. He then climbs to the top ropes, leaps, and attempts a Five-Star Frog Splash. Bobby rolls out of the way, avoiding the impact. However, Flyer, a veteran of the sport, sticks the landing like he’s been under the tutelage of Béla Károlyi.

Joe Hoffman: Slick move!

Benny Newell: Neither of these guys have lost yet? What gives? What are they trying to break a personal record? Is Guiness Book here or something?

Bobby’s eyes go wide as he marvels at Flyer’s athleticism. He slams the mat with an open palm to snap himself out of it, or show his frustration. One of them. Then, he charges in much like Flyer did earlier in the match. Yet again, both men engage in a full on scrum. Hair pulling, eye gouging, unprotected nut shotting, pressure pointing… slaps, kicks, punches, knees, elbows, even a same sink bathroom break.

This time around, Bobby gets the best of Flyer. He locks in a dangerous, head wrenching, pillow popping side headlock. He screams out as if Flyer’s eyeball shot out of its socket and landed on his bare foot– something truly glutural.

Visceral.

Hortega checks to see if Flyer has had enough, but he resists.

Somehow…

He resists.

Joe Hoffman: What a display of fortitude by Flyer. Bob has that cinched in tight.

Bobby, sensing Hoffman’s jinx and Flyer about to wiggle free, whips the decorated wrestling star into the ropes and attempts a clothesline. Flyer ducks, and plants Bobby with a German Suplex.

Benny Newell: I bet he’s happy Bobby lost that weight now. He wouldn’t be able to do that!

Flyer holds the finish, and Hortega slides in for a three count.

Uno.

Dos.

Bob wiggles out.

Joe Hoffman: Close one there, Benny! Flyer caught him off guard and almost got it done.

Benny Newell: It’s like these guys are trying to win. Since fucking when? What did I miss?

Fatigue is starting to wear on both men, as both Flyer and Bobby struggle to their feet. Flyer labors to his first, and looks across the ring at Bobby Dean. Bobby, who is on a knee, is looking right back at him.

Intensity mounts.

Joe Hoffman: This is it!

Both men take a deep breath, and then charge in at one another like in heat rams. Flyer gracefully leap frogs Bobby. Bobby rebounds off the ropes and attempts another clothesline. Flyer ducks and is behind Bobby.

Ewwwwww……

Joe Hoffman: OH! LOW BLOW! Hortega never saw it either!

The Beautiful Man kicked his leg back, like a bucking horse, and drilled Flyer directly in the nuts.

Like a trickshot in Pool.

Flyer’s face goes ghost white, and Bobby ponders for a second whether to waste time tucking Flyer’s face in his tights or not. Surprisingly, he chooses to honorably discharge.

Joe Hoffman: MODIFIED DANSHOKU DRIVER! OUCH!

Hortega drops down.

Uno.

Dos.

Flyer lazily kicks a leg.

It’s not enough.

Tres.

WINNER: Bobby Dean, via pinfall in 9 minutes and 3 seconds.

Exhausted, Dean rolls off of Flyer, out of the ring, and halfway up the ramp before finally making it to his feet.

Joe Hoffman: Both of these guys came to play tonight, Benny. What a match. This one could have gone either way, but it was Bobby Dean and his dirty tactics that put himself in a position to win, and he did just that. Nice win for Bobby, tough loss for Flyer. Good match either way.

Benny Newell: Somebody had to win.

The show cuts from Flyer starting to stir in the ring to elsewhere.

The cameras catch up with Sutler who is once again wearing his #97Red Hasmat suit, armed with a bag of plumbing tools and supplies. Running to catch up with the quickly moving Son of Scions is intrepid reporter in the field, Brain Bare.

Brain Bare: Sutler! Excuse me, Sutler! Where are you off too?

The President of Human Resources doesn’t stop to speak as Bare has to jog to keep up with him.

Sutler Reynolds-Kael: Walk and talk, Bare, walk and talk! Someone called in a 1013, do you know what that is? It’s a critical toilet failure, Bare, a real shit show!

Brian Bare: I see, so you’re still doing odd jobs around the arena despite still being in the opener this w-

Sutler holds his hand up in front of Bare’s face to shut him up as he approaches the doors to the bathroom in question.

Sutler Reynolds-Kael: I’d love to answer your questions but some of us actually have meaningful, important jobs to do tonight so kind.. Uh.. go fuck off somewhere. Sutler.. Out.

The Son of Scions stares at Bare for a few lingering uncomfortable moments before kicking the door to the bathroom open and shuffling inside to see what the damage is. Instead of a total disaster, however, the bathroom seems to be clean and tidy save for one unfortunate detail.

“The Vintage” Conor Fuse sits on top of the sink, deadpan face.

Conor Fuse: Hey Sut, it’s okay if I call you Sut, right? Of course it is. Good to see you.

Conor immediately puts his arms up in a defensive manner, as if to say he’s not going to move while Sutler immediately presses his back against the door defensively as he ripped a wrench out of his tool bag.

Conor Fuse: Whoa, whoa. Oh no, no, no, don’t worry! Just wanna say ‘we’re cool’. I had a little spat earlier today, maybe you saw it, maybe you didn’t. Anyway, I see the bigger picture now. You were just doing your job. Puttin’ in the work.

Fuse takes a moment to laugh to himself.

Conor Fuse: So… I had a little Fortnite gaming tournament to help clear my mind. Invited some of my discord friends in Arizona over for a couple of in-person battles. Meet-and-greet. Awesome possum time. It’s good to put a face to those behind a computer screen sometimes. Am I right? I mean am I? Haha, of course I am, dude.

Sutler’s about to reply, however, his words are drowned out as a nearby toilet flush.

Then another.

Conor Fuse: Oh, speak of the devil. That’s them right now. You know… this has been their first break in days. It’s quite the addicting game.

Out of stall number one, a very heavy-set man, mid 20s, well over 250 pounds. Out of stall number two, another heavy set man, mid 30s, also 300 pounds. Conor greets them as they walk up to the sink and wash their hands. The air becomes filled with the sound of various weight related respiratory issues as both bulky men crowd around the sinks like hibbos jocking over the same pond.

Conor Fuse: Hey NutKracker69 and Lone_RangerDanger. [Conor turns to Sutler] I only know them from their screen names. We don’t do formal.

After NutKracker69 and Lone_RangerDanger air dry their hands and waddle past Sutler, their extra bulk connecting with Sutler as they slowly meander out of the bathroom with all the self-awareness of a blink boar.

Another toilet flushes. And out of the final stall… a morbidly obese man who struggles to balance on his own two feet. He’s at least twice the size of the other two.

Conor Fuse: What’s up, ExtraButter?

ExtraButter nods, bumping into Sutler too and nearly knocking him over before exiting the bathroom without washing his hands. Conor’s feet playfully dangle from the ledge. Even inside his Hazmat suit Sutler’s expression of horror and disgust is plainly visible.

Conor Fuse: Jeez, I better get outta here before I catch another whiff. We have SO much gaming left!

The Vintage hops off the counter, strolls over to Sutler and pretends to tussle his hair through the suit.

Conor Fuse: Keep up the good work.

Sutler’s mouth opens as if he were about to say something but quickly closes again as the fetid air seems to penetrate even his suit’s filters. Fuse exits the bathroom but can be heard down the hallway, doing his best Sutler and Big Boss exchange.

Conor Fuse: [as Sutler, ear piercing high pitch] I wAnT in mAiN eVeNt, even though I haven’t earned shit! [Big Boss voice, angry and disgruntled] You’ll have to work for it, boy! [as Sutler] Sure thing! I’ll do anything for you, old man! Let me get my knee pads.

As Fuse’s voice fades into the background, Sutler stands in the middle of the bathroom staring at the three toilets.

Sutler Reynolds-Kael:…shit..

The scene goes to black as we cut to a commercial break.

Joe Hoffman: Welcome back as we are ready for more HOFC action!  We will soon be cutting to a live feed aboard the USS Octane somewhere out there heading towards Japan as its time for our HOFC Championship match.

Benny Newell: Also known as ….Mike Best murdering Brian Hollywood for the final time!

Joe Hoffman: That is the match…the outcome not yet determined…….but it is just two weeks after Mike barely survived Scottywood in what many are calling one of the greatest HOFC fights of all time.

Benny Newell: We’re not talking about Scottywood!  He… he lost!

Joe Hoffman: Yes, but even you Benny can’t deny it was one hell of a fight.

Benny Newell: I plead the fucking fifth of Jack and will #DRINK

Joe Hoffman: Well Brian Hollywood looks to do what Scottywood couldn’t do last week and that is pry that HOFC title from the grips of MIke Best.  It was again a viscous week of promos… with Mike claiming he is done with Hollywood after this… and Hollywood claiming he think he finally has the answer to Mike and has bored him into submission this week.

Benny Newell: Blind squirrel finding a nut… that is Hollywood’s whole fucking hope tonight.

Joe Hoffman: Two former World champions…

Benny Newell: NO!  Hollywood was just a place…

Joe Hoffman: NO YOU!  Don’t you dare try to demean the HOW World Title by claiming Hollywood was any less of champion than Mike Best was.  If Mike Best thinks he could have beaten Brian Hollywood for that title, he should have been here and fought for it.  But where was he Benny?

Benny Newell: Maybe you should fight Mike next week.  Seems like you got some fire in ya there.  But no comment to your question.

Joe Hoffman: Exactly, so let’s see how these two settle it in the cage… and not in the history books.  Cause we can all guess at this and that in the past… but what we know for sure is what happens tonight when these two enter the HOFC cage.  So with that, let’s head over to the USS Octane with Rick Stevens for this fight.

“Stronger on your Own” by Disturbed blares over the PA of the USS Octane as we see Hollywood slowly walks out from the bowels of the ship.

Bryan McVay: The following HOFC fight is scheduled for five rounds and is for the HOW HOFC Title.  First making his way to the cage… from Los Angeles, California and weighing in at 225 pounds… BRIAN HOLLYWOOD!

Hollywood makes his way into the cage, very little emotion on his face as he gets ready for possibly his last shot to prove he’s learned enough to take down Mike Best.

HALLLLLLELUJAH! HALLLLLLELUJAH! HALLELUJAH! HALLELUJAH! HALLEEEEEEEELUJAH! 

The catchy but vaguely off putting 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.  Mike lifts the HOFC Title in the air, not for the fans watching on the HOV in Arizona or at home on HOTv, but for Brian Hollywood to send a clear message to the challenger.

Bryan McVay: And his opponent, hailing from Chicago, Illinois and weighing in tonight at 235 pounds… he is the HOW HOFC Champion… HOW Hall of Famer… MIKE BEST!!!!

Placing the belt on his shoulder, Mike makes his way down to the cage where he enters and quickly hands the belt to Rick Stevens.

Benny Newell: Mike wanting to get this going and end this quickly for sure as we all know the outcome… I don’t need to see what will happen to know it will, Joe.

Joe Hoffman: Mike will wanna end this quickly because the longer it goes, the more confidence Brian Hollywood will get that he can beat Mike.

DING DING DING

The bell rings and Hollywood explodes from his corner and comes in with some quick kicks and a sharp left jab that catches Mike a bit off guard as he fires back with a couple quick body shots before Hollywood tattoos Mike’s face with a right.

Joe Hoffman: Hollywood wanting to make sure he strikes first he, he needs to keep Mike from gaining any momentum here.

Benny Newell: He needs to prevent Mike from kneeing his fucking head off into the water.

Mike has had enough though as he lunged and speaks Hollywood to the ground, eating a few elbows from Hollywood on the back of the head on the way down.  But as Hollywood is spiked to the mat, Mike delivers a nasty head butt to Hollywood that shuts him down for a moment as Mike lands two hard shots to the face of Hollywood.  Finally back with it Hollywood gets a knee up into the lower regions of Mike who quickly rolls away.

Benny Newell: DQ!  Low…

Joe Hoffman: Come on Benny… how many times do you need to be told there is no DQ in HOFC.

Benny Newell: Everytime a bitch like Hollywood uses a cheap low blow.

Joe Hoffman: How is it cheap if it’s legal?

DING DING DING

The bell for round one sounds as Mike gets up and screams at Stevens to start round two.  He looks at Hollywood who nods and Stevens sounds the bell.  Mike charges at Hollywood who dives and drop kicks Mike’s shins, taking him out.  Both men try to struggle for position as Mike grabs Hollywood by his hair and slams his head off the mat.  Pissed at Hollwyood he connects a hard right to the temple as he gets back up to his feet and takes a breathe as Hollywood rolls over to the cage wall and pulls himself up to his feet.

Joe Hoffman: Interesting choice by Mike to let up… maybe he needs a moment to collect himself after waiving the break between rounds.  Hollywood maybe catching him off guard a bit.

Benny Newell: He’s taking a moment to savor the last time he’ll ever knee this fucker in his head.  Leaving him with less of a brian than Scottywood has.

Hollywood is almost back up to a vewrticle base as Mike charges and clothesline Hollywood against the cage.  Hollywood is stunned again as Mike grabs his head and slams it off the barley padded partition of the cage.  He then rips the padding off, exposing the straight steel as he drives Hollywood’s head into that once, twice, three times as the blood begins to flow from the head of of Hollywood.

Benny Newell: BLEED BITCH!  BLEED!

Joe Hoffman: Hollywood in trouble here, he needs to turn things around quickly.

Mike lets go of Hollywood to falls back onto the cage wall, but stays on his feet as Mike shakes his head and charges back at Hollywood, going for his famous knee to finish things…

Joe Hoffman: Back body…

Hollywood lunges forward and is able to back body drop Mike up… high enough where Mike doesn’t land on the mat… but on top of the HOFC cage wall.  His back arching over the padded top as he teeters for a moment before falling back into the cage.

Joe Hoffman: On to the HOFC age wall!  What height by Hollywood, nearly sending Mike out of the cage!

Benny Newell: That HAS to be a DQ!  You can’t throw your opponent out of the cage!

Joe Hoffman: NO DQS!  End of story.  Hollywood now going in for the finish on Mike…

DING DING DING

Steven dives in to break up anything as Hollywood abides by the bell nad backs up as Mike is holdings his back as he pulls himself back up to his feet.  Hollywood though now doesn’t want to wait as he charges at Mike.  Stevens rings the bell as he doesn’t wanna try to step between the two again.  Hollywood goes to shoulder tackles Mike into the cage wall, but Mike side steps and drop toe holds Hollywood face first into the cage wall.

Joe Hoffman: Hollywood shoulda gone after Mike after round two ended…

Benny Newell: Now he’s eating cage… the only thing Sex and Money ever fucking ate!

Mike arches his back, trying to work the pain out as Hollywood staggers on the mat, the blood maybe running even more as the cage grated his face open even more.  Mike stands back as he lines Hollywood up and everyone in Arizona knows what is coming next.

Benny Newell: KNEE!, KNEE!, KNEE!

Joe Hoffman: Mike setting up for…

Miek charges at hollywood and launches the famous knee towards the head of Hollywood one more time…

Joe Hoffman: Knee by Mike…

Benny Newell: I KNEED A FUCKING LOSER!!!!

Joe Hoffman: Shining wizard connects and Hollywood looks laid out…

Mike goes to jump on Hollywood with some punches to the skull but Rick Stevens jumps in and waves his hands as he calls for the bell.

DING DING DING

Bryan McVay: Your winner by knockout in the third round… AND STILL, HOW HOFC Champion….. MIKE BEST!!!!

Benny Newell: Told you Joe!  Mike just kneed the fucking head off Brian Hollywood and once again the executive failure delivers another loss to himself at the hands of Mike Best.

Joe Hoffman: Hollywood gave it a good shot tonight, but Mike just too many steps ahead of him and takes down Hollywood in the third round with that knee to the skull after some brutal encounters between the two.

Mike grabs the title from Stevens as he stands over Hollywood and holds the title up.  He then turns and exits the cage, making his way quickly to the back as his work for the night is over.

Joe Hoffman: That is one title match down… one to go tonight as the HOW Tag Team Titles will again be on the line as Zeb Martin and Ray McAvay take on Steven Solex and still can’t believe I’m saying this… Jace Parker Davidson.  Stay tuned!

Benny Newell: I win… pay me bitch!

Joe Hoffman: We agreed to nothing… why would I ever bet with you?

Benny Newell: True, you know I’m always fucking right.

As Joe and Benny continue to go back and forth we cut elsewhere…

Back live and we are back aboard the USS Octane as we see Arthur Pleasant golf clapping with a shit-eating grin plastered across his face as he walks closer to the High Octane Fighting octagon cage. Brian Hollywood looks to be barely conscious when The Provocateur, with the enormous Yuri by his side, shoves his way past the how medic that was checking on Hollywood during the break and enters the black steel battleground. Arthur has a microphone in hand

Benny Newell: I don’t know what Arthur Pleasant and that Big Russian Motherfucker have planned for Hollywood but it CAN’T be good.

Joe Hoffman: Agreed. I feel like Brian Hollywood is about to have one of the worst nights of his entire life. In hindsight? Probably wasn’t a good idea attacking Arthur after his win against Zion last week.

Caressing Hollywood’s head like a Mother would her child, Arthur sighs. Holding his free hand up expectantly, Arthur awaits Yuri to place a microphone in his palm. Moments later, Yuri does precisely this. This is why he gets paid the big bucks by Guardians of REAL Entertainment!

Arthur Pleasant: Shh, shh, shhhhhh. It’s… it’s gonna be okay, Brian. I promise. Shhhhhh.

He rubs Brian’s hair… before closing his fist with a handful of his hair.

Arthur Pleasant: Uncle Arthur’s ready to relieve you of your pain.

BONK!

Arthur slams the butt end of the microphone across the bridge of Brian Hollywood’s nose! Then, standing up, Arthur directs Yuri to take hold of his target. Grabbing an arm, Yuri pulls Hollywood up with great strength from the floor of the octagon shaped mat straight into his arms.

Arthur Pleasant: I think someone needs a hug!

Yuri nods and places Hollywood in a bear hug… then SLAMS him back first into the steel fencing! Over and over again he does this as Hollywood cries out in agony with each slam against the fencing.

Benny Newell: Fucking CHRIST this is hard to watch..!!

Joe Hoffman: Somebody needs to get out there and put a stop to this before Hollywood is seriously hurt!

Benny Newell: You mean if he isn’t already!?

Arthur Pleasant: Your BFF is the lucky one here. Which, by now, I’m sure even YOUR dumb fucking ass can realize. You see, I may have beat him and chalked one up for myself in the good ole win column, but the oh-so important little detail here is that I actually let him leave the ring on his own volition. You? YOU, on the other hand, aren’t going to be going anywhere. Not without the assistance of a wheelchair, at the very least.

He shrugs before laughing into the mic. Trying to maintain his composure, Arthur sucks his teeth.

Arthur Pleasant: Listen to me, BryHollz. It’s fucking braindead morons like yourself who are going to learn REAL quick here that I am not someone to be fucked with. At least, not unless you’re willing to play nice. And you, ya fucking soft ass bitch? It’s become crystal clear to me that you just don’t know how to play nice. So now? It’s time to pay the penalty for your utterly STUPID infraction. If you will, Yuri-san-ski!

The inFamous One outstretches his arms and Yuri places Hollywood across his shoulders in a fireman’s carry. Pushing up underneath Hollywood’s frame, Arthur comes crashing back down to the mat with both knees extended upwards, SMASHING them both rather violently into Hollywood’s throat and jaw with the double-knee facebreaker.

Benny Newell: Calamity Pain. Ugh! That looked stiff as FUUUCK!!

Joe Hoffman: Yeah, he put some English on that one for sure. Brian Hollywood is in a BAD way here!

With Hollywood seemingly unconscious and in a fetal position on the octagon floor, Arthur kneels down beside him again and rubs the back of his head.

Arthur Pleasant: Shh, shh, shhhhh. It’s okay, BryHollz. It’s… okay. You just didn’t know.

With the microphone firmly in his grasp, he gets RIGHT into his ear.

Arthur Pleasant: But now you fucking do. Any further infractions will be met with… shall we say… slightly more severe penalties? Hehe. Think about THAT next time you get that strong, burning desire to sneak attack me… you worthless, rotten, yeast-infected cunt.

Playfully paint-brushing the back of Hollywood’s head, Arthur drops the mic swiftly across Hollywood’s head and stands up from the manslaughter-like beat down he and Yuri just dished out.

Benny Newell: WELL… statement made, much?!

Joe Hoffman: I’d say so. Jesus!! Talk about putting everyone on notice!

As Arthur and Yuri make their way out of the cage, medical personnel finally begin to make their way into it. Arthur puts his hands up to each one in a mock fighting stance.

Laughing sadistically at his own deplorable actions, Arthur leaves the scene of the crime with Yuri right behind him as the feed from the USS Octane ends and we cut back to Arizona.

The camera cuts back to the locker room area where we see one of the doors open and out walks The King of Everything himself, Jace Parker Davidson, alongside the lovely Madison. JPD is dressed in his wrestling attire, all ready for tonight’s main event, as the two of them head toward the gorilla position.

Madison: I can’t believe you’re just moments away from your big return to in ring action! Those 214 losers won’t know what hit them!

JPD: This is a chance to put gold around my waist and to prove why Lee Best brought me into The Best Alliance. Tonight the war swings back in favor of The Alliance and I’ll be the sole reason why.

They continue walking down the hallway, nearing the waiting area by the curtain, when Jace sees someone posted up along the wall. Their stance is relaxed: hands in the pockets of a black leather jacket, the sole of one black boot resting comfortably against the white concrete. The most distinctive feature, of course, is the curly dark brown and red tendrils that fall around their face, and it’s at this point that JPD smirks.

A King and Queen about to collide.

JPD: Well how about that, we’ve been graced by the presence of The Queen of the Ring. Here to wish me luck in the main event tonight?

Troy offers a chuckle and an easy smile in response.

Lindsay Troy: Sure. If that’s what you want to call it.

JPD: What else could it possibly be your Highness? Oh, I hope you’ve told your boys to polish up those titles for us. Don’t want to look bad in my moment of glory tonight.

Lindsay Troy: I think you can look bad all on your own, Jace. (Her smile grows) Quite frankly, I don’t think the tag belts are going anywhere, so no need to get them prepped for you, or Solex, or anyone else really.

Madison: You speak to The King with respect, you amazon!

Madison yells all the while hiding behind JPD and pointing a finger towards Lindsay. Jace sighs and reaches out to lower Madison’s arm.

JPD: Honestly? Maybe they won’t tonight but there is plenty of time between now and War Games for that to happen. Now since I only exclusively compete in Championship matches, that means I will be a thorn in your side for a long, long time.

Lindsay Troy: The good thing about thorns is that they’re only a minor inconvenience. I plan on being a dagger in your side so long as we share an arena, Jace.

Lindsay pushes herself away from the wall and stands eye-to-eye with the former HOW World Champion.

Lindsay Troy: And tell your Dimetapp wig wearing friend there that if she likes the use of all her fingers, she’d better keep them where I can’t break them.

Madison: It’s not a wig you troll!

JPD: Dagger in my side you say? Well Lindz, I’ve beaten bigger and badder than you my dear. Now once I get rid of your boy McAvay I have no problem focusing on you and making sure HOW’s resident momma doesn’t make it to War Games either.

Jace looks Lindsay up and down before pie facing her away from him. He grabs Madison’s hand and they continue on their way.

Lindsay shakes the disrespect gesture off, laughing softly to herself as the King and his consort move further down the hall.

Lindsay Troy: (quietly) I’d like to see you try…

With that, Refueled heads into its final commercial break before the main event.

Back live from commercial break and we are once again inside the makeshift office of Lee Best here in the arena.

Lee Best: Final time you will hear from my ass tonight as the only ones that can SAVE tonight are Solex and Jace……so with that in mind…..the Main Event is getting changed…..ya I fucking said it….Card Subject to fucking change.

Lee pauses as he motions for Redrum but the big man does not move.

Lee Best: Asshole…..my drink??

Redrum’s arm comes out from the darkness and picks up the bottle of Eagle Rare and refills Lee’s cup.

Lee quickly takes a drink and swallows it and motions for Redrum to pour him another.

Lee Best: Hit me again…I am not driving asshole….

The man obliges and slinks back into his place as Lee focuses back on task.

Lee Best: So ya…..Tag Team Championships will now be defended in a LUMBER JACK match and there will be NO INTERFERENCE INSIDE THE RING OR THE TEAM THAT DOES WILL SEE THE OTHER TEAM NAMED TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS!!!

Lee takes down the drink again with one drink and throws the glass across the room.

Lee Best: Let’s fucking go………cut to my fucking music.

As we come back live inside the arena we see the members of Grapplers Local 214 standing around at ringside while the two men defending the Tag titles, Ray McAvay and Zeb Martin, already in the ring while the Hall of Fame team is ready for the Main Event of the evening.

Joe Hoffman: Welcome back ladies and gentlemen and what a night it’s been so far.

Benny Newell: Damn right Hoffman. Tonight has not disappointed and we are about to see the Best Alliance do what it does best!

Joe Hoffman: For those that may have missed last week’s show, Lee was furious that Grapplers won the tag titles……

Benny Newell: FURIOUS!?!?!?!?! THAT IS THE UNDERSTATEMENT OF THE YEAR HOFFMAN.

Joe Hoffman: Anyways, as a result Lee booked this match after evoking the Freebird rules to hand pick the champions’ representation and his handpicked challengers.

Benny Newell: And he can do this because he’s GOD and we already know he is an ANGRY GOD tonight.

Joe Hoffman: Also, he ordered that Grapplers Local 214 had to come out first instead of last as in the traditional champions order, but also their entrance wasn’t live as why we had an extended commercial break.

Benny Newell: Fuck em.

Joe Hoffman: Lastly, right before commercial Lee announced that this title match would be contested under Lumberjack rules!

Benny Newell: Damn right! And I’ll read the rules because you’ll fuck it up….

Benny clears his throat.

Benny Newell: Rule 1. If a wrestler is on the outside for whatever reason the lumberjacks have until the count of five to get the wrestler back inside or it will be a disqualification. Rule 2. Any interference IN THE RING by the champions stable will result in them losing the championship and any interference by Best Alliance members will result in them losing the match instantly. Rule 3. You can only win by pinfall or submission.

As Benny finishes reading the rules the lights in the arena go out. After a few moments the HOV comes on but it is showing nothing but static and a shadowy image. As the image becomes clearer we see the bloody eyes of GOD.

“UNDEAD!”

Screams throughout the arena as the familiar tune of the Best Alliance begins to play as 97 Red colored lights and laser come on and shoot around the arena and the High Octane Vision has images of the Best Alliance member doing what they do best and that’s dominating and winning championships. As the lights slowly come back on we see Steve Solex and Jace Parker Davidson standing at the top of the ramp with the rest of the Best Alliance behind them as pyro begins to waterfall behind them.

Joe Hoffman: Wow. You would think with this entrance they were the champions.

Benny Newell: SHUT THE FUCK UP HOFFHOLE!

Jace and Solex nod to one another as they lead the charge down the ramp with the other following behind making a “flying v” formation. Jace and Solex stop in front of the ring as the other members gather to their side of the ring. Jace and Solex hop onto the apron and the turnbuckles explode as more pyro goes off before getting in the ring.

Benny Newell: The real champs right there Hoffman.

With all the combatants present and accounted for it’s off to Brian McVay.

Bryan McVay: Introducing first, the champions, representing the Grapplers Local 214 weighing in at a combined weight of 483 lbs….they are THE REIGNING! DEFENDING! UNDISPUTED! HOW TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS OF THE WOOOOOORLD! RAY! MAAAAAAAACCCCCAAAAAVAAAAAYYYY! AND ZEB! MAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRTINNNNNNNN!

The tag champions hold their titles high into the air to a thunderous ovation.

Bryan McVay: And their opponents, representing the Best Alliance, weighing in at a combined weight of 505 lbs…. THE CAPTAIN OF THE BEST ALLIANCE! STEVE! SOOOOOOOOOOOLLLLLEEEEEEEEEXXXXX! AND MAKING HIS RETURN AFTER A FIVE YEAR HIATUS! THE KING OF EVERYTHING! JACE! PARKER! DAAAAAAAAAAAAVVIIIIDSOOOOOOOOOOON!

Matt Boettcher holds up the titles for the world to see before folding them up and calling for the bell.

Ding. Ding.

Joe Hoffman: And here we go with our MAIN EVENT of the evening!

McAvay and Solex start it off for their respective teams and as they circle McAvay keeps his eyes on Jace.

Joe Hoffman: McAvay not turning his attention away from Jace and I don’t blame him.

Benny Newell: If McAvay did his job in the first place they would probably be in the Best Alliance together instead of Jace trying to rip him a new asshole.

Joe Hoffman: Five years ago Ray McAvay pinned Jace and was victorious for Team Scott Stevens…..

Benny Newell: Shhhhhh!

Joe Hoffman: What?

Benny Newell: We don’t say that name or he might appear.

Joe Hoffman: Anyways, McAvay pinned Jace and held the world title briefly while Jace disappeared into obscurity.

Benny Newell: His contract ran out and went away to conquer other places before getting hurt. Get the shit right Hoffman.

Solex and McAvay lock up with one another and Solex takes the early advantage with a knee to the gut of McAvay doubling over the former world champion. Solex grabs McAvay and goes to throw him through the ropes, but the Texan puts on the brakes as he shoves Steve away.

Joe Hoffman: McAvay saw what was coming and avoided it quickly.

Benny Newell: Don’t worry, Best Alliance will be pounding that ass soon enough.

Solex and McAvay circle one another once again and the military vet tries to sucker punch the Texan with a jumping Superman punch, but McAvay sidesteps the attack. As Solex turns he eats a boot to the gut and is taking down with a suplex. McAvay begins to stomp away on the downed Solex before driving a knee onto his face. Ray drops the leg across Solex’s throat and makes the quick tag to Zeb. Zeb and Ray pick up Solex and deliver a double suplex. Zeb tags back in McAvay and the Texan begins to work over Solex with a reverse chinlock.

Joe Hoffman: Zeb and McAvay with the quick tags.

Benny Newell: They can tag each other a million times it won’t matter.

McAvay begins to soften up the neck area of Solex by driving elbows and hammer fists into the shoulder areas of the Captain of the Best Alliance. The former World champion grabs Solex by his hair and slams him into the canvas before hopping up and hitting the ropes to a forearm drop.

Cover.

One.

Two.

No.

Solex kicks out.

McAvay picks Solex up but is double over with a shot to the stomach. Solex grabs the stunned Texan and throws him to the outside and the Best Alliance pounce like a pack of wolves.

Joe Hoffman: They can do what they want they want for five seconds.

Benny Newell: Seven seconds maybe for Heaven, but five is for Hell!

One.

Two.

Jatt and Sektor are both pounding away while Clay holds him.

Three.

Four.

McAvay is rolled into the ring.

Solex with a cover.

One.

Two.

No!

McAvay kicks out.

Solex drives an elbow into the heart of McAvay before picking him and taking him back down with a neckbreaker.

Cover.

One.

Two.

Thr….

NO!

McAvay kicks out and Solex is already mounted and bringing the pain with right hands to the side of the Texan’s face.

Joe Hoffman: Solex is just looking to hurt McAvay.

Benny Newell: He embarrassed GOD, and you don’t do that.

Solex yells for the Best Alliance to get ready as he drags the former World champion to his feet.

Benny Newell: Steve Solex calling his shot like Babe Ruth. Fucking love it and fucking DRINK!

Solex goes to throw McAvay to the outside once again, but McAvay counters.

Joe Hoffman: Reverse DDT!

Benny Newell: Lee dammit!

McAvay pulls himself up and he is visibly gassed. He leans against the ropes and waits for Solex to get to all fours before running towards him to deliver a running neckbreaker. McAvay still breathing heavily picks up Solex again to deliver a running bulldog.

Joe Hoffman: Shakin and Stirred by McAvay and the former champion is showing the ring rust of being out of action for awhile as he cannot capitalize on the move.

Boettcher sees both men down and begins his count.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Both men stir and their partners begin pacing on the outside and yelling at them to make the tag.

Five.

McAvay is inching closer.

Six.

Solex is regaining his bearings.

Seven.

McAvay is closer and closer.

Eight.

Solex makes the tag and Jace rushes in.

Nine.

McAvay makes the tag right before Jace gets there and Zeb launches himself into the ring with a springboard shoulder tackle.

Joe Hoffman: Shoulder tackle and Jace is stunned!

The Watson Mill Kid brings the fight to the King of Everything as he sends him into the nearest corner following a European uppercut. Zeb builds up a head of steam and goes to deliver a shoulder into the ribs of Jace, but the King avoids it like a ninja by hopping onto the middle turning buckle and when Zeb hits flips over to deliver a….

Joe Hoffman: CANADIAN DESTROYER!

Jace touches his face as his look of disgust builds as he looks down at Zeb. Jace begins to yelling at Zeb before picking him up and throwing him to the outside. As the Best Alliance mugs Zeb Martin, Jace shoots a look and a loogie at McAvay causing the Texan to try and come into the ring causing Boettcher to stop his lumberjack count and prevent him from coming in.

Benny Newell: That’s why he’s the KING BAY BAY!

Once McAvay is back onto the apron, Zeb is rolled back into the ring by Clay Byrd.

Joe Hoffman: Zeb Martin was brutalized on the outside.

Benny Newell: I didn’t see anything.

Jace stalks The Watson Mill Kid and delivers a stomp to each limb as he stares at McAvay.

Joe Hoffman: Jace showing that ferocity that made him a champion many times over.

Benny Newell: Champion and future Hall of Famer Hoffman.

Jace delivers a stiff kick to the ribs of Zeb before jumping up and delivering a double stomp to his chest and quickly repeating it once again this time to his stomach.

Cover.

One.

Two.

Thr…..

No!

McAvay breaks up the pin and as McAvay heads back to his corner Jace is choking the life out of Zeb and let’s go as soon as Boettcher turns around. Jace drags Zeb up and whips him to the opposite corner a follows his attack with a knees to the chest. Jace begins to light up Zeb’s chest with knife edge chops.

Crowd: Wooooooooooo!

Joe Hoffman: Zeb’s chest is turning red from those knife edge chops.

Benny Newell: Guillotine Edge chops Hoffman because no knife is suitable for a King!

Jace hits a standing jumping knee that rocks Zeb before placing him on the top turnbuckle. Jace follows him up and lifts him up and flips backwards.

Joe Hoffman: SPANISH FLY!

Benny Newell: Give that shit to Lindsay Troy and maybe she won’t be a stuck up bitch anymore!

Jace doesn’t go for the cover and instead he pulls Zeb up to a seated position and delivers a massive knee with his face. Jace is relentless and he quickly pulls Zeb back up this time all the way to his feet and sends him back down to the canvas with another high knee.

Joe Hoffman: Jace with a flurry of V-Trigger style knees to Zeb Martin.

Benny Newell: I bet McAvay is triggered over there in his corner!

Jace picks up Zeb who shows his grit and toughness by pushing him away, but the King hits another jumping knee to the side of Zeb’s face. Jace shoots McAvay a look and puts towards him.

JPD: That’s going to be you.

Benny Newell: TELL HIM JACE! FUCKING DRINK!

Jace picks up Zeb and whips him against the ropes but the Watson Mill Kid grabs hold of the ropes to stop himself, and leans on it to hold himself up.

Joe Hoffman: Zeb needs to tag McAvay in.

Benny Newell: No he doesn’t.

Jace sees Zeb is barely standing as he uses the ropes to prop himself up sprints towards him looking to finish off Zeb only to do his best Superman impression as he goes flying over the top rope and crashing to the floor below.

Benny Newell: Get out of there Jace!

Jace gets to all fours and he begins to realize where he is as he sees multiple boots around him he slowly looks up and sees Grapplers Local 214 smiling down on him before they begin to ask his face what shoe size they have.

Joe Hoffman: The Grapplers have begin waiting all night to get their hands on the Best Alliance and they are making the best of it.

Benny Newell: Fuck you Hoffman. Fuck you.

Lindsay Troy rolls in Jace to a waiting Zeb Martin.

Joe Hoffman: Hook. Line. And SINKER!

One.

Two.

Three.

NO!

Solex with the save!

Benny Newell: Thank Lee!

Joe Hoffman: How close was that?!?!?!?

Benny Newell: Almost as close as that one bitch who claimed I got them pregnant before it was a bad gas of gas.

Solex picks up Zeb and nails him with a stunner.

Joe Hoffman: Solexecution!

Solex is arguing with Boettcher as much as he can as he is being forced back to his corner.

Joe Hoffman: Solex arguing with the official giving Jace time to recover.

Benny Newell: That’s why he’s the Captain of the Best Alliance.

Boettcher turns his attention back to the two men lying on the canvas and begins his count.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Both men begin to stir.

Five.

Both men inch closer and closer to their corners.

Six.

McAvay taps his nose twice to Barbie-Q who nods.

Seven.

Madison sees the exchange between McAvay and Barbie-Q.

Eight.

Jace with the tag.

Nine.

Zeb with the tag.

Joe Hoffman: Both make it to their corner!

McAvay looks towards the corner looking for the Big Bertha Driver, but there is a commotion on the outside as Madison has attacked Barbie-Q preventing her from tossing in the golf club. Madison’s attack causing an all out brawl as the Best Alliance rush over and they start going after one another. As Boettcher and McAvay watch the chaos outside, Solex goes low bringing the Texan to his knees allowing him to sing higher than normal.

Benny Newell: Stick a fork in him he’s done!

Solex yells at Boettcher as he makes a cover.

One.

Two.

Three.

NO!

Steve Solex: FUCK!

Solex yells and begins arguing with Matt Boettcher.

Benny Newell: You fucked up again Bitcher!

On the outside of the ring, the Best Alliance and Grapper 214 continue going at it. Cancer Jiles is directing traffic as Clay Byrd and Lindsay Troy are going at it while Jatt and Sektor are working over Teddy. Conor tries to help Teddy, but gets blindsided by Steve Harrison who starts putting the boots to him. Lindsay begins to get the upper hand on Byrd, but Hugh Freeman sneaks in and clocks her with that devastating right hand.

Benny Newell: FATALITY PUNCH! EQUAL RIGHTS BITCH! DRINK!

Back in the ring, Solex goes for Solexecution, but McAvay shoves him away and as Solex turns around gets his head taken off by a discuss lariat. McAvay doesn’t waste time as he places Solex between his legs and lift him up to deliver a powerbomb.

Joe Hoffman: MCGILL-BOMB!

One.

Two.

Three.

Benny Newell: FUCK!

Boettcher signals for the bell.

Bryan McVay: Your winners and STILL!…. THE REIGNING! DEFENDING! UNDISPUTED! HOW TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS OF THE WOOOOOORLD! RAY! MAAAAAAAACCCCCAAAAAVAAAAAYYYY! AND ZEB! MAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRTINNNNNNNN!

Before McAvay can get off of Solex his face is driven into the mat by Jace.

Joe Hoffman: Bend the Knee!

Jace has evil intentions in his eyes as he yanks Ray to his feet and deliver a lifting double arm ddt.

Joe Hoffman: Unscripted Violence!

Benny Newell: Damn right it is Hoffman! Look at who is standing tall!

Jace looks down at McAvay and begins yelling at him while the Best Alliance continues the assault of the Grapplers 214 on the outside, but we the show doesn’t end as the HOV comes to life……

The HOV begins showing a live feed from inside the office of Lee Best once again.

Lee Best: THEY FUCKING LOST? IS THAT WHAT I FUCKING HEARD!!!???? I LITERALLY GO TAKE A PISS FOR TWO MINUTES AND I COME BACK TO HEAR THAT?????

Lee slaps everything off his desk and slams his fists down on the desk.

Lee Best: You listen here motherfuckers….next week we are going to…….hey what the fuck you doing…

The camera pans out and we see Redrum walking directly up to Lee until he is literally inches away from the GOD of HOW and the man obviously towers over Lee.

Except its not Redrum.

Lee Best:  I am not in the fucking mood man. Back the fuck up.

But the man does not move…..and instead he grabs Lee by the back of the neck.

Lee turns his face towards the man but it is obviously he cannot clearly see who it is……his eyes still damaged.

Lee Best: Who the fuck ………oh shit……..you motherfuc—

WHACK

The man bounces Lee’s head off the desk…..

WHACK

And again.

Blood begins to spill from the forehead of the GOD of HOW and the man picks up Lee and proceeds to powerbomb the owner of High Octane Wrestling onto and then thru the desk.

The man looks down at the bloody and unmoving body of Lee and slowly crouches down and whispers into Lee’s ear.

“Name is Ryan…… Dan Ryan. See you again really soon Lee….this is far from over.”

We get a quick cut to inside the arena where the Grapplers and The Best Alliance are both equally in shock in what they just saw on the HOV.

Back inside the office and the camera follows Dan as he stands up and begins walking towards the office door and as he does we see him step over the lifeless body of Redrum.

Ryan looks back one final time at Lee and smirks and then proceeds to slam the door shut as Refueled fades to black.