Lestor Moregrimes vs. High Flyer
The HOTv logo gives way to a spectacular scene welcoming us to a hot crowd inside the PPG Paints Arena, before we cut to the Hall of Fame announce team of Joe Hoffman and Benny Newell.
Joe Hoffman: Hello everyone and welcome to the sixty-fifth edition of Refueled! We are nearly three weeks removed from a wild and chaotic War Games, and tonight sees all the fallout as we head toward Bottomline! I’m Joe Hoffman alongside my partner, Benny Newell.
Benny Newell: Good lord, here we go with the pleasantries. No need to run down the whole show Joe, the people know what we’re in for tonight!
Joe Hoffman: Oh? What would that be, Benny?
Benny Newell: Misery misery misery, especially for those 214 idiots! Lindsay Troy is G-double O-double N-E…GOONNE baby! The wheels are coming off that whole gravy train, and tonight the LSD and Tag Team Championships come home to the Best Alliance!
Joe Hoffman: Be that as it may Benny, Dan Ryan and Conor Fuse DID win the tag titles during War Games, and they’re looking to give Cancer Jiles and Steve Harrison the fight of their lives. On top of that, Teddy Palmer made a statement eliminating Clay Byrd first from…
Benny Newell: No no no, we don’t talk about that. Doesn’t change the fact Sektor’s gonna bring that belt home baby!
Joe Hoffman: Speaking of Clay Byrd, we know that tonight he’ll be stepping into the HOFC cage to challenge Mike Best for…
Benny Newell: We’re not talking about THAT either, Joe. I’m getting a headache just thinking about who to root for, and you know what cures a headache?
Joe Hoffman: Lemme guess, a…
Benny Newell: DRINK!
Benny takes a sip of his courage juice as Joe just rolls his eyes before continuing.
Joe Hoffman: We also have…
Benny Newell: Lemme just stop ya there Joe, I said we weren’t gonna run down the card tonight. Lindsay Troy was so scared to deal with Jace Parker Davidson that she asked for her damn release, and in her place is a rookie…a ROOKIE, Joe! Eli’s about to step into a lion’s den against an angry JPD, and Doozer makes his HOW return against Brian Hollywood. How’s that for a damn rundown, Joe? Time for another drink, I’m already annoyed talking so much.
Benny takes a much larger gulp of his drink as Joe just shakes his head.
Joe Hoffman: Well said, Benny. Folks, we start things off with singles action as High Flyer takes on Lester Moregrimes, and that’s coming up right now!
Benny Newell: Son of a…
Benny’s obscenity is cut off as the scene switches to ringside with Bryan McVay. The fans are already excited for the action to kick off here at Refueled LXV!
Bryan McVay: Ladies and gentlemen, this is your opening bout of the evening. Introducing first, from Yonkers, New York, weighing two-hundred-eighty-one pounds… Lester Moregrimes!
“Panama” by Van Halen begins on the PA as the six-foot-five monster emerges from the curtain. He slowly makes his way down to the ring, paying no mind to the crowd as he enters the ring looking ready to destroy his opponent.
Joe Hoffman: Might be worth noting the smug look on Lester’s face tonight folks, as a few weeks ago he picked up a shocking upset over Sean Stevens, but can he keep up the momentum against an HOW mainstay High Flyer?
All Aboard! AH HA HA HA HA HA HA HA…
A light fog rises up from the entrance way as the opening guitar riff kicks in. Parting the smoke is High Flyer, who stands confidently at the top of the entrance ramp.
Bryan McVay: And his opponent, from Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, weighing two-hundred-twenty pounds… Lester Moregrimes!
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…but Lester is having none of that as he immediately goes on the attack!
Joe Hoffman: Good lord, that is uncalled for! Things are already breaking down as the ref tries to maintain order.
DING DING DING!
With things finally under control the match starts, but Lester is right back on the attack with some hard lefts and rights to High Flyer, before sending the man from Bethlehem into the corner with a big boot to the chest! Violence is the name of the game here, as Lester charges at his slightly smaller opponent…who dodges at the last second, turning Lester’s own momentum against him as the big man comes crashing into the turnbuckle!
Joe Hoffman: Close call by the larger Moregrimes there, but it looks like High Flyer had that well-scouted!
Benny Newell: And he’d damn well better keep scouting, ‘cause all it takes is one slip-up for Lester to squash him like a bug! No one’s heard from Sean Stevens since that loss, and Lester’s looking to add High Flyer to that list!
Lester is able to shake this off a bit as he turns around, but gets caught with a crossbody that sandwiches him between High Flyer and the turnbuckle! High Flyer’s feeling the rush now as Lester falls to the canvas, giving the veteran a chance to take to the skies…climbing the turnbuckle…and leaping off the top rope with a 450 splash…that’s scouted by Moregrimes! Knees up by the big man, driving them right into the chest of the falling High Flyer, who rolls out of the ring clutching his ribs!
Joe Hoffman: Lester using just enough ring awareness to catch High Flyer there!
Benny Newell: Ring awareness? Pfft…say what you want about Lester, the man can use his eyes and brain! If I saw somebody about to slam their body on me I’d throw my damn knees up too!
Lester gets back to his feet as the ref begins the count, and smiles at the sight of High Flyer in pain. Lester steps through the ropes, exiting the ring with the intention of causing more damage to High Flyer as he lays in some hard boots to the midsection. He hoists High Flyer up, stepping toward the steel ring post…but High Flyer once again manages to evade disaster, sending the big man into the post shoulder first! Lester is now the one in pain, clutching his shoulder as High Flyer rolls back into the ring.
Benny Newell: Look at that coward, trying to get the cheap count out victory!
Joe Hoffman: Benny, what are you even talking about?
Benny Newell: High Flyer talks all that shit about making a statement, about proving his legacy isn’t dead…and then stoops to this? Think, Joe, think!
Benny’s statement comes up empty however, as we soon see High Flyer enacting his actual plan by grabbing the top rope, leaping off for a springboard shooting star press! Both men are down now as the ref begins the count anew:
High Flyer is the first to his feet, looking a little out of it as he grabs onto the ring apron to pull himself up to his feet before rolling into the ring. Lester, however, is still down and out!
Lester is finally stirring, slowly getting to a knee.
Lester recognizes the situation for what it is, rising up to his feet to get to the ring…and just makes it in! Lester looks worse for wear, however, giving High Flyer the opening he needs as he lays in some hard kicks on the big man. This only seems to anger Moregrimes though, as he gets back fully to his feet.
Joe Hoffman: Uh oh, this could be trouble for High Flyer! What does he need to do to put Lester down, Benny?
Benny Newell: Should’ve brought a damn tranquilizer gun or something, this one’s just about in the bag for Lester, looking to send the old man home!
High Flyer sees his last opportunity to bring this match to an end as he tries laying in more kicks on Lester, who sends him into the ropes looking for a clothesline on the rebound…but High Flyer ducks under, dodging the attack! He instead catches Lester by surprise with a springboard Lou Thesz press, really letting the fists fly! Both men are back to their feet now, but High Flyer sends Lester into the corner with a dropkick…and before Lester can react, he takes a leaping Yakuza kick for his troubles!
Joe Hoffman: Locomotion by High Flyer! Lester is down and out after that!
High Flyer quickly goes for the cover as the ref makes the count!
DING DING DING!
Bryan McAvay: Ladies and gentlemen, your winner via pinfall…HIIIIIGH FLYERRRRR!
“Crazy Train” plays as the ref raises High Flyer’s arm in victory.
Joe Hoffman: What a win for High Flyer tonight, looking to get back into the title conversation and hopefully this is the first step.
Benny Newell: Yeah yeah yeah…good lord, it’s gonna be a long night. I need to get some more booze, and quickly.
High Flyer continues to celebrate as we cut away from ringside.
The Golden Corral
Backstage in the PPG Paints Arena, we cut to one Zeb Martin seated on a folding chair, observing the climax of the High Flyer/Lester Moregrimes match on the monitor in front of him. However, his concentration is broken with a slight tap on his shoulder. His eyes slowly begin to light up and his fists ball up into knots: he was very aware that a receipt might be on its way from the Maestro at any point tonight. Purposefully slow, he starts to rise out of his chair without turning his head in the other direction, taking a few steps forward to create some additional distance from what was likely an incoming foot to his face.
Zeb Martin: Oh…
But Terminal Cancer wouldn’t be coming just yet. As the Watson Mill Kid turned around, his defense instincts quickly drew back, unclenching his fists as he nodded a greeting to the familiar figure in jean shorts.
Doozer: Hey, buddy.
Zeb Martin: Hey, bo.
Awkward tension begins to fill the distance between the former mentor and mentee as both seem to be struggling with what to say next. This had been the first time that the two individuals had shared the same space together since November, and the occasion wasn’t exactly a warm exchange. Despite Doozer’s recent attempts to extend an olive branch via text message, they hadn’t spoken since.
Surprisingly, it would be the usually-reserved Zeb who would muster up the first shot.
Zeb Martin: Ain’t gonna be as easy as puttin’ the past behind us fer me, Doozer. Business seems tuh have a lotta folks with long term memory problems, but reckon I’m not quite there yet. You’n Bobby got a lot of history of ups and downs, so I know it’s a little easier fer him to forgive ‘n forget. Ain’t in my DNA though.
Doozer: Fair. I know I got my work cut out for me. Not looking for a handshake or a bro hug to be what makes things right again.
Zeb Martin: I can dang well guarantee that’s not gonna happen tonight. I said it back then and I’mma repeat myself now. Jiles wasn’t the one who walked out of that locker room by himself that night. Wasn’t no surprise to me when he did finally show his tail, but you? I didn’t expect Doozer to be cozyin’ up to the boss man after two goddamn weeks of stabbin’ ALL of us in the back.
Doozer steps around the chair to close the distance in between the two, his arms stationary at his sides to display body language that this wasn’t a hostile approach. Zeb, however, was not able to read it as such, taking an additional step backward.
Doozer: I get that. But you also never gave me the chance to explain my side of the story, kid.
Zeb Martin: Well, I got time.
Doozer sighs and shakes his head.
Doozer: I don’t. At least not right now. Look, I know you don’t owe me anything, much less a chance to hear me out. But I would at least ask that you give me that chance. Let me take you to dinner. And after that, if you still don’t want to shake my hand? I’ll understand. I won’t be happy about it, but I’ll understand. Deal?
Martin furrows a brow, mulling over the proposal for a brief second. Part of him wanted to simply leave the bridge burned, as he had a tremendous support system in the locker room surrounding him already. Back then, he needed Doozer in his corner, but at this point? A positive rapport with any of the eGG Bandits didn’t feel like a necessity, even with his recent reconciliation with Bobby Dean.
However, even though Dooze said that Zeb didn’t owe him anything, a small part of him disagreed. Doozer had been Zeb’s biggest advocate for joining the Bandits. He’d opened the door for him when no one else had wanted to take a chance on the teenager with an unintelligible Southern accent. Regardless of how it ended, how it started meant something.
Zeb Martin: OK. I’ll do it.
The left side of Doozer’s mouth curled just slightly enough to form the beginning of a half smile.
Doozer: Good. Thanks. But just so you know, we are NOT going to Golden Corral.
Zeb Martin: But th-
The action cuts away as we see Doozer still shaking his head…
I blame you
The scene cuts to ringside where “I Want It All” by Queen blares across the PPG Paints Arena. Rolling from the curtain is Jatt Starr (with the help of a motorized wheelchair) to a warm, respectful applause. Jatt Starr’s face is pallid, almost ghoulish as if he had not seen the sun in weeks. He looks about fifteen pounds heavier, he sports a black dress shirt, white pants, and sneakers. In his lap is a microphone. The music fades and Jatt Starr brings up the microphone.
JATT STARR: Eight weeks. That is how long the doctors are giving the Ruler of Jattlantis. Eight weeks before I can step into that ring again. A concussion, sixteen stitches, a neck injury causing nerve damage….the doctor told me I was lucky that I wasn’t paralyzed or dead but they questioned my motivation to get back in the ring. They used words like “dangerous”, “diet”, “infection”, and “life threatening”. My response? You can’t kill a legend.
The crowd in attendance provide a positive response to the King of Grapple from the Big Apple’s statement.
JATT STARR: For the past few weeks, the Sultan of SeaJattle was in a very dark place. Bitter, resentful. I was going to tell Lee to burn this mother down like it was a “Disco Inferno”. Shut the doors! An HOW without Jatt Starr is an abomination and should not exist.
The crowd begins to turn on the Thane of Starrkarth but he slowly, weakly brings up his free hand imploring the crowd to stop.
JATT STARR: But that wouldn’t be fair. That wouldn’t be fair to the new HOW Champion, Sutler Reynolds-Kael. That wouldn’t be fair to my “Brohemoth” and, after tonight, the new HOFC Champion Clay Byrd. It also wouldn’t be fair to Steve Harrison. Who would buy his quality merchandise? He’s gotta make a living.
The Jattinum Standard takes a breath before continuing, the arm holding up the microphone is shaking, he has no choice but to switch hands.
JATT STARR: I came out here to show that the Sultan of SeaJattle is not going to hide under some rock. The Starrabian Knight does not cower under a bed. I came out here to let those responsible for my current condition know that I will be back. Starting with John Sucktor. Actually, John, was it worth it?
The Sovereign of Starrgentina pauses as if he is waiting for a response.
JATT STARR: John, you threw away a friendship for personal gain. You threw me aside and watched as Conor Fuse and Dan Ryan mangled me with a steel chair. You watched and you did nothing. What was the result of this betrayal? Did you win War Games? Nope. You came up short. You were my brother….
The King of Grapple from the Big Apple, who is clearly getting choked up, stops to clear his throat.
JATT STARR: I was there for you. I had your back one thousand percent. And what did you do? You watched as they left me as a broken heap in the middle of the ring. You could have stopped it. You could have….intervened. You didn’t do it. After everything I have done for you, you…..
Unable to contain himself, Jatt Starr’s ghoulish face seethes with rage.
JATT STARR: ….YOU LET THEM DO THAT TO ME????
The Marquis of MadagaStarr slumps down after the outburst and has a coughing fit, with his free hand holds the back of his neck, rubbing the neckbrace. He looks back up at the crowd as if he is searching for Sektor, he finally looks at the camera in front of him.
JATT STARR: The worst part? I don’t think you gave a fuck.
Jatt Starr looks at the crowd, all eyes are on him, he can only shrug as if it were a stone cold fact, but the agony cracks through.
JATT STARR: There is no coming back from that. You know, you had me fooled. I actually thought we were like family. I actually believed I was supporting you, but, the truth is, I was enabling you. You, John, chose to be nothing more than a selfish prick junkie. You’re dead to me.
The crowd remains silent, unsure if they should applaud or boo.
JATT STARR: Now, let’s talk about Dan Ryan. I applaud you, Daniel. I can’t say I blame you. I had already beaten you once. You clearly had to concoct an elaborate plan to take me out. Kudos. I am flattered that you had to resort to such measures. And to convince Conor to go long with it, that’s just diabolical. The problem is, if you’re going to try to cripple someone, you better make sure it sticks.
The Baron of Boca Jatton smirks a little before continuing.
JATT STARR: See, in a few weeks, I’ll be back and I’ll be gunning for you. Not in a “Scarface”, machine guns under each arm “Say hello to my little friend” kind of way. I have something very special planned for you. Nothing elaborate. No grand schemes. It’s simple. I am going to beat you. No brutal gimmicky match. Just one-on-one. No weapons. No ladders. Just a straight up match. And, I say again, I will beat you.
The Earl of GlouStarr pauses, this time for dramatic purposes, allowing it to sink into Dan Ryan’s thick, Cro-Magnon skull.
JATT STARR: And then, I will beat you again. And again. And again. I can think of no better punishment for you than making you my new Darkwing.
The Ruler of Jattlantis takes a moment to relish the thought and manages another sly smile. It quickly fades and he winces in pain and rubs the back of his neck. He reaches into his pocket, pulls out a pill bottle, and pops one into his mouth.
JATT STARR: That leaves us with Conor Fuse, Teddy Palmer, and the Country Bumpkin…..
The crowd erupts at the mention of “The Vintage” wrestler. The cheers clearly irritate Jatt Starr but he pays them no mind.
JATT STARR: Conor, was it worth it? Maiming people? Ending careers in vicious and sadistic manners? I thought you were above such poppycock. I won’t lie, while I was in the hospital, staring at the ceiling in excruciating pain, I wondered….Did you feel any remorse? Did you feel anything? When you were approached with this scheme, did you fight against it? Or did you just do what you were told?
Once again, Jatt Starr pauses as if he is waiting for an answer from Conor Fuse.
JATT STARR: The truth is, I blame you the most. I’m disappointed. If you wanted to put me out to pasture, you should have done the job yourself and not outsourced it to a fifth rate goon. And if any part of you was against the idea, well, you still willingly handed the loaded gun to Dan Ryan and watched him pull the trigger and did nothing to stop it. Rest assured, Conor, I will make you wish Dan Ryan had succeeded in destroying the Mayor of ManJatt—-
The Starrcelona Icon has another coughing fit, covering his mouth with his hand, this time he notices some blood. Instead of continuing on, with a concerned look on his face, he silently leaves the stage without uttering another sound. The crowd is left stunned in silence as we take our first commercial break.
Brian Hollywood vs. Doozer
The show comes back from commercial break and picks up with Benny and Joe at the announce table.
Joe Hoffman: Up next, Brain Hollywood versus the returning Doozer. Who do you like in this one Benny?
Benny Newell: What the fuck happened? Like, what the fuck happened? Since when–
“Stronger on your Own” by Disturbed blares over the PA, cutting Benny off. Hollywood slowly walks from the back and takes center stage as he stands there for a few brief moments, closing his eyes. He reigns in the boos from the crowd as he gets in final mental preparation for his upcoming match. As Hollywood opens up his eyes, pyro shoots off in opposite corners of the stage as it makes its way to center stage. As the pyro hits the center, the camera zooms in to see the reflection in Hollywood’s eyes as he finally makes his way down the ramp, quickly taking off his vest and throwing it down with intensity. Hollywood makes his final push as he charges the ring, rolling under the ropes. He gets back to his feet and looks about the entire arena glaring at the fans before he takes his place in the corner turnbuckle before turning his gaze intently in the ring as he awaits for the bell.
Joe Hoffman: Hollywood looks poised. Could this be the start of something new for him?
Benny Newell: Poised? Did you start smoking crack?
The Dooze emerges from the curtain to no substance whatsoever. No music. No pyro. No one clicking a flashlight on and off. Nothing. The crowd greets him to some ovation, but then again a woman in the front row also flashed the audience on his way down to the ring so it could have been because of that.
Joe Hoffman: Nothing for Dooze? Seems… weird.
Benny Newell: He’s got to earn his keep before he gets the simple things. That’s what I’ve been told, and frankly I bet he flakes before he can get his name announced.
Joe Hoffman: Interesting. Well, both men are now in the ring and we are officially underway.
Hortega calls for the bell.
Hollywood and Snoozer lock up. Both struggle to gain the upperhand over the other, but eventually, Hollywood is able to work Doozer into the corner and open hand slaps him across the chest.
Joe Hoffman: Ouch.
Brian does so again, and again.
Joe Hoffman: Doozer’s chest is bright red, but he’s no selling the pain!
Hollywood quickly shoots his thumb into Doozer’s eye which causes the Big Bostonian to finally scream out in agony. Double Dooze quickly grabs at his face, and in doing so he raises his guard. Hollywood doesn’t hesitate and makes him pay for it by landing a flurry of short punches to the old buffoon’s abdomen.
Joe Hoffman: Doozer is DOWN!
Hortega drops down for the cover!
Joe Hoffman: FOOT ON THE ROPE! That was a close one! Doozer is definitely feeling and showing the side effects of the long lay off. WOW. That was almost over in an instant.
Benny Newell: Could you imagine Jil… I can’t even.
Hollywood slaps the mat, and then stands to his feet. He reaches down, pulls Delusional Dooze, aka Deloozenal, to his feet. Then, The King of Bolly swoops in from behind, struggles to get Dooze and all his dead weight in the air, but eventually does, and delivers a German Suplex that would impress the 97th Reicht.
The Jorted One flounders on the mat like the proverbial fish out of water– his body gyrating as if he had been electrocuted or touched by Cancer Jiles.
Joe Hoffman: What a slap in the face here by Hollywood– applying a Boston Crab on Doozer.
Benny Newell: Ya know, maybe you were right earlier about him turning the corner.
Hortega asks Dooze if he’s had enough, but Dooze is still close enough to the ropes and is able to reach out and grab the bottom one. It takes Hollywood to the count of 4.999999 to break the hold, but he does, and the Red Chested. Third Reicht’d, Boston Crabbed, Dooze goes back to floundering around on the mat again.
Benny Newell: I bet he wishes no one could see him now, huh Joe?
Joe Hoffman: Brutal.
Hollywood climbs the turnbuckles and poses for the crowd, really living it up. It’s not often he gets to walk around with his cock in hand persie, but if Daloozer is going to present such an enviable opportunity– why waste it?
Hollywood turns, and signals from the top turnbuckle as if he’s going to spike his elbow into Doozer’s presumably cold, but alas it is nonexistent so it doesn’t matter, heart. He launches, really high into the air, almost hanging there it seems before plunging his elbow towards the canvas with malicious intent.
Joe Hoffman: He could change one of the lightbulbs if he gets any higher. Ha.
Right before Brian can connect with his target, Dooze rolls out of the way, and for the first time in the match both men are down.
Benny Newell: Of course he fucked it up. Of course he did.
A small roar bellows from the crowd, urging Dooze to get up and shake the cobwebs of yesterday/month/year/decade.
Joe Hoffman: Doozer is on his feet!
Hollywood is also on his feet trying to shake the pain out of the right side of his body. He fights through it, somewhat, and charges in. Doozer ducks under his left handed clothesline attempt, and then dodges a left handed punch attempt. He then kicks Hollywood in the gut, hooks his arms and lands his only offensive move of the match.
Doozer falls down, and hooks both legs.
Hortega hits the mat behind him.
Winner, via pinfall at 8 minutes and 56 seconds: Dewzore
Joe Hoffman: WOW! We haven’t seen that move in quite some time! Maybe Dooze is capable of turning back the clock after all?
Benny Newell: Cool. No one gives a shit. Moving on to the Best Alliance part of the show please and thank you.
The camera quickly cuts away before Doozer can even get his hand raised.
We cut from the ringside area at the conclusion of the Doozer vs. Brian Hollywood match to the backstage area. Brian Bare can be seen roaming the backstage area with a microphone and a camera man behind him. Bare spots his next target out of the corner of his eye and heads over. It turns out that his targeted interview is with none other than the King of Everything Jace Parker Davidson and Madison.
Brian Bare: Jace I was wondering —
Jace raises his hand into the air to interrupt Bare.
JPD: Let me stop you right there. You know you can’t just walk up to me like that and expect me to acknowledge you.
Brian Bare: I just want a simple —
Madison: You know what you have to do if you want a word from the King.
Bare sighs then reluctantly gets down on one knee in front of Jace.
Brian Bare: Your highness, I was wondering if I could get a word with you about —
Jace interrupts Bare once again.
JPD: You want my thoughts on the fact that Lindsay Troy got herself fired from High Octane Wrestling because she fears me.
Brian Bare: Well I —
JPD: It’s quite alright Bare. I don’t mind talking about how Lindsay Troy couldn’t stand that repeatedly, over, and over again that I bested her at every turn. From our first match, to the HOFC cage, to her being eliminated from the War Games match. I broke her, she couldn’t stand that the Queen would never measure up to the King. And now not only am I the King of Everything, the Conqueror, but now I am the Queen Slayer!
Madison: Oh, you should totally change your name on Discord to LT’s Daddy.
JPD: That’s a brilliant idea but tonight isn’t about people that can’t handle a loss. It’s about out with the old pussy and in with the new pussy.
Brian Bare: You must be talking about your opponent for tonight, Eli Dresden.
JPD: Hmph, who el–
???: Brian, sweetie… don’t let Jace fool you. The only pussy in our match is him.
Walking into the shot once she has finished interrupting her opponent, Eli Dresden’s smirking to beat the band as she casually makes her way over to not only stand by Brian, but to help him back to his feet. And if that’s not enough to thumb her nose at Jace, well…
Dresden: I dunno why anyone humors that pretentious prick to begin with. You alright, man?
…not only is she turning her back toward JPD, but she’s talking about him like he’s not even there. As Brian nods in response to Eli’s question, Jace frowns.
JPD: Who told the rookie that she could just walk in here and hijack my television time? Listen here here half pint I know you’re new here and everything but there is a pecking order here.
Eli’s still not paying any attention to Jace, completely tuning him out.
Dresden: And by the way, Bare–you should wear that tie more often! Really brings out your eyes, y’know?
Brian Bare: I, ah… thank you?
Confused by this turn of events, Brian clears his throat and makes an attempt to keep things somewhat on track.
Brain Bare: Since you’re here, though, Eli, could I get–
Jace reaches out and grabs a hold of Bare by the tie and yanks him off of his feet.
JPD: Whatcha think you’re doing there Brian? If you don’t think I won’t stomp on your head and pop it like a zit then you better get your act together. No one cares about what the replacement pussy has to say. This is about me and only me.
Brian Bare: I was just—
Dresden: Being conscripted into being a prop for the Burger King there because he can’t be intimidating to anyone that’s actually on the active roster anymore. You deserve a raise, Bri–and to be put down.
Turning to face JPD, the much smaller opponent manages to meet his gaze despite the height difference, her tone firm and surprisingly impactful all things considered.
Dresden: Somethin’ that sugartits there is gonna do before I decide to beat his ass right here and steal his girl for good measure. Wouldn’t that be a shame?
Jace stares down at the much smaller woman and then bursts out into an uncontrollable laughing fit.
JPD: Oh, you’re just adorable but you sure a mouthy little cunt for someone that has accomplished absolutely dick as a wrestler but if you don’t want to wait for our match later tonight I got no problem dealing with you right here…right now.
As Jace was laughing himself half to death, the blond has slipped right by him–and by the time he’s addressing her? She’s already right next to Madison in that classic shooting-her-shot position. Yep, she’s gone right to the steal-Jace’s-girl part of things.
Dresden: –but I’m telling you, the best place for dinner ‘round here is Butcher and the Rye. I know a guy, we can get in after hours for that VIP treatment. Whaddya say?
Madison’s eyes light up but before she can reply Jace grabs ahold of Eli and spins her around to face him. He resists the urge to literally yeet her down the corridor and crouches down to look her in the eyes.
JPD: I’m only going to say this once. I’m going to need you to take all this attitude you got wrapped up in a small package. And check it at the door because I’m far from amused. I was going to play with you out there in front of your friends and family but now? I’m going to violate you in the most devious ways I can think of and if by some chance you’re still able to stand afterwards? I’ll give you the luxury of making me a fucking sammich.
…and even with Jace literally lowering himself to her level to try to intimidate her? Eli still isn’t giving him her attention. Instead, she’s looking back over her shoulder at Madison, a brow raised.
Dresden: Is he always this emotional? It’s just–it’s so hard to take him seriously when he’s being this emotional. He just needs to calm down or else I’m not gonna bother tryin’ to have a conversation with him.
A pause; Dresden feigns having a ‘Eureka!’ moment as she looks back toward Jace, her smirk knife-sharp.
Dresden: Oh, no–lemme guess. Is it that time of the month?!
JPD: That’s it I’m not waiting, gonna kill ya right now!
Jace straightens up and hits Eli with a boot to the face that takes her down to the concrete. Eli holds her face in pain as Jace leans down and murmurs into her ear loud enough for the camera to pick up.
JPD: See ya in the ring, replacement pussy.
Jace gets up to his feet and grabs Madison by the arm satisfied with his work. A few seconds after the King of Everything and his manager have left the scene, the blond is kipping up, a hand still cradling her jaw. It’s already beginning to bruise, by the looks of it… but in spite of that?
Dresden: Wouldn’t miss it for the world, sugartits.
Eli’s grinning in a manner that’s outright predatory, the camera cutting away shortly thereafter as we cut to commercial.
Everything is fine
As we fade back in from commercial break, our setting is one of the main corridors in the PPG Paints Arena. A #97 Red banner sporting HOW’s logo dangles from a support stand, and standing to its left is Brian Bare. To his left? LSD Champion Teddy Palmer.
Brian Bare: Ladies and Gentlemen, joining me at this time, Teddy Palmer.
Teddy’s eyes shift the slightest toward Brian, rather indignantly.
Brian Bare: Tonight, you defend your LSD Championship against John Sektor, but before we get into that, I’ve got to ask what’s the question that’s been on everyone’s mind. What happened at War Games?
Teddy scoffs at the question, a sarcastic smirk curling at the edge of his lips.
Teddy Palmer: I successfully retained this beauty, against all odds.
His right hand raises in unison with his brow, his LSD Championship proudly displayed.
Brian Bare: Well, yes….
Teddy Palmer: I put the final nail in The Best Alliances coffin.
His sentence ends matter of factly.
Brian Bare: No, I…
Teddy Palmer: I spent more time in that structure of destruction than any other competitor.
It’s a fact that he clearly takes pride in.
Brian Bare: That’s true, but…
Teddy Palmer: The lack of a World Championship aside, there’s no denying that I was the fuckin’ MVP of War Games. I’ve been the talk of the locker room since.
Brain lets out an exasperated puff of air, and shakes his head.
Brian Bare: Not for the reason you think.
Teddy Palmer: No?
His tone is insincere.
Brian Bare: What happened with Ray McVay? Why didn’t you…
Teddy Palmer: Next question.
Teddy cuts him off, his smirk fading. Brian ponders pressing on, but decides against it.
Brain Bare: Okay. Fine. The Grapplers Local have suffered two major blows since the conclusion of War Games, with McVay’s retirement and the release of Lindsay Troy…
Teddy Palmer: The Two One Four will be just fine, Brian. Thanks for your concern.
Teddy pats Brian on the shoulder, in what could be better described as a stiff slap, jarring the backstage interviewer. Bare readjusts his blazer, rolls his shoulders, and looks at Teddy with frustration.
Brian Bare: Given your relationship with Lindsay, can you give us any further insight behind her shocking departure?
Teddy Palmer: Nope.
His flippant response further irritates Brian, but the jittery employee tries his best to remain professional.
Brian Bare: Ted. You’re not really giving me much to go off here.
Teddy Palmer: We’ll who’s fault is that? Your line of questioning is shit. Is Ray McVay LSD Champion? How about Lindsay Troy? Are either of them fighting John Sektor tonight?
Teddy pauses, waiting for Brian to clue in that he’s waiting for a response.
Brian Bare: No.
Teddy Palmer: Then why the fuck are we talking about them?
Brian rolls his eyes, giving up.
Brian Bare: Fine. Tonight you…
Teddy Palmer: Win. Tonight I win. I do what I always do and lead by example and I fuckin’ win. Period.
Teddy wastes little time walk out of view, a defeated Brian Bare shaking his head.
Back at ringside…
Eli Dresden vs. Jace Parker Davidson
Joe Hoffman: Ok folks it is time for our next match…..JPD against the debuting Eli Dresden. These two met in the back earlier, and had a lot to say to each other.
Benny Newell: Total disrespect for The King. He kicked that cunt right in the mouth. He’s gonna murder that little wench. The only thing the new pussy is gonna be doing after this is making me a drink and getting Jace a sammich.
Joe Hoffman: And here she comes!
The chorus of ‘Never Look Back’ hits the sound system as the overhead lights dim, blue and white lights flashing along the rampway as spotlights of similar shades swirl over the crowd. Eliza Dresden waits all of a second before she bounds onto the stage, her energy levels already through the roof thanks to the cheers. Stopping at the top of the ramp, she thrusts a fist in the air… but she can’t be idle for long. She all but bounces and poings her way down to the ring, darting from side to side to slap offered hands and otherwise play to the crowd, earning a decent amount of cheers as she goes along. It’s about three-fourths of the way down the ramp that she abandons that, speeding up to slide into the ring headfirst on her stomach before she twists onto her back and kips up to her feet. She’s quick to mount the nearest turnbuckle, once again shoving a fist skyward to more of that positive reaction from the hometown fans. She’s popping back down and turning to look toward the middle of the ring. As her music fades, she continues bouncing around on the balls of her feet, eagerly waiting for the match to get underway.
Benny Newell: And now for the best part of the night!
Joe Hoffman: Oh, you’re going to stare at Madison the entire night?
Benny Newell: Of course not!
I The lights in the arena dim as the HOV begins to light up. The words “The King has Returned.” echo throughout the building. The crowd stands on its feet as smoke begins to build on stage. The sound of Kingdom by Jaxson Gamble begins to blare as a spotlight shines on stage. The crowd gives a mixed reaction as through the smoke appears Jace Parker Davidson along with Madison by his side. Jace looks out at the crowd and soaks in the reception before locking arms with Madison. The two make their way down the ramp slowly as fans reach over the barricade trying to touch the duo. Madison takes her place at ringside by Benny as Jace slides under the bottom rope to enter the ring. Jace pops to his feet and makes his way over to the nearest corner and climbs the turnbuckle to pose for the crowd. Hopping down Jace goes to his corner and begins to stretch before the match starts.
As the bell rings JPD charges Eli Dresden, the much quicker gymnast ducks under the larger opponents out stretched arms. Davidson turns around to Eli standing in his corner with a smirk. Eli glances over at Madison and breaks into a full on laugh in front of Davidson.
Jace begins circling towards Dresden who begins circling in the opposite direction, Jace tries to cut the distance in between the two but Dresden once again ducks under the larger mans attempt to lock up. She smacks JPD on the ass on the way by and stands in the opposite corner smirking while JPD is borderline apocalyptic at the crowd laughing.
Benny Newell: This isn’t the god damn floor program at Tokyo! Fight him!
Joe Hoffman: Great work by Dresden to stay away from Davidson here in the opening few minutes.
Davidson learning from his previous mistake takes a more patient approach at coming across the ring. This time, slowly but deliberately walking directly at Dresden. Dresden tries to side step but JPD cuts her off. She tries to go back the other way but Davidson grabs her by the shirt and slams her into the corner.
Benny Newell: Haha! Time’s run out! DRINK!
Joe Hoffman: Davidson has finally seemed to figure out our newest HOW roster member.
Davidson stands in front of the now cornered Dresden snarling. She tries to reach for Davidson’s mid-section but JPD slaps her hand away, and fires off a slap to the side of Dresden’s head.
Benny Newell: EQUAL RIGHTS BITCH! HAIL THE KING!
Davidson stands before Dresden and now begins laughing at the smaller challenger, he walks up clearly toying with his food as the boos begin to rain down inside of PPG Paints Arena. JPD grabs Dresden by the arm and goes to Irish whip her across the ring. Jace takes off following the Irish whip. Dresden slides under the bottom rope to the apron at the last moment, letting Davidson smack into the corner.
Joe Hoffman: Looks like JPD has made a mistake letting his opponent out of the corner.
Benny Newell: The Alliance doesn’t make mistakes Joe, they know exactly what they’re doing.
Jace stumbles out of the corner and Dresden quickly springboards off the top rope and takes him down with a head scissors. Dresden is like a ball of energy, hopping to her feet and quickly coming off the rope with a low drop kick to the now seated King of Everything. Eli flies back to the apron, jumping up and hitting an Arabian press onto Davidson and hooking the leg.
Benny Newell: Don’t you fuck him like you fucked Clay, Boettcher!
Davidson kicks out after one, with an audible sigh of relief coming from Benny. Dresden doesn’t give the larger man any room to breath and pulls him back to his feet by his hair. JPD still trying to shake the cobwebs out swats Dresden’s hand away but is met by a slap across the mouth. Once again Dresden is pointing and laughing at Davidson.
Joe Hoffman: Some payback delivered by Dresden there!
Benny Newell: Jace is gonna break her in half.
Jace surprises Dresden with a right hand, sending her sprawling to the mat. He moves to drag her to her feet but Dresden kicks him in the stomach pushing him backwards. Dresden kips up and closes the gap between her and Davidson, sprinting. Jace side steps and grabs Dresden around the waist. Jace goes to pick her up for a German Suplex, but Dresden manages to wedge her leg behind Jace’s knee. Eli goes to work prying Jace’s fingers while he tries to pull her backwards for another attempt at a suplex. Dresden manages to unlock Jace’s fingers, and uses the momentum to grab Jace by the head and smash him to the canvas with a bulldog.
Joe Hoffman: Dresden showing amazing resilience here.
Benny Newell: Not like this Jace!
JPD rolls to the outside holding his face while Dresden is once again back on the offensive running to the far rope with a head of steam and coming back with a baseball slide that hits JPD in the face. Dresden scampers back to her feet and goes running again to the far rope. JPD quickly slides into the ring and meets Dresden in the middle with a spear!
Joe Hoffman: The former champion with a huge spear that floors Dresden!
Benny Newell: HA! I told you he was gonna break her in half Joe.
Davidson doesn’t stop with the spear, he keeps hold of Dresden, pulling her to her feet from behind. Jace grabs Dresden’s arm and spins her around like a top, pulling her in for a devastating rip cord clothesline. Dresden does a complete flip from the impact landing on her face.
Benny Newell: Fuck yes! This is better than watching domestic violence on COPS! DRINK!
Joe Hoffman: Dresden looks to be in trouble here, while Jace looks to be sizing her up for Bend The Knee!
Jace is pulling on the top rope screaming for Dresden to get on her knees. After a moment the dazed gymnast does just that and JPD stomps her to the ground with Bend The Knee! Jace rolls over for the cover.
Benny Newell: THEY ALL BEND THE KNEE! DRINK!
Joe Hoffman: Wow, when Jace Parker Davidson got his hands on her he sure was devastating in this match, but what a showing for our newest addition at High Octane. Holding your own against Jace is impressive.
Benny Newell: HAHA! Tell that bitch to get me a drink! Show her where the kitchen is! Just like the old pussy, The King of Everything has conquered the new pussy! Tonight’s gonna be great!
Joe can be seen just shaking his head as we cut elsewhere…
The scene switches to Blaire Moise behind a Refueled backdrop.
Blaire Moise: Ladies and gentlemen, I am with the man who almost defeated Sutler Reynolds-Kael for the World Championship at War Games. He is “The Vintage” Conor Fuse!
The fans cheer as Conor walks into view. Sporting a black and purple SNES trench coat, Conor has one of the HOW Tag Team Championships draped across his shoulder.
Blaire Moise: Conor, you lasted well over an hour in the War Games match, won the tag titles with Dan Ryan and faced two referee reversed decisions, one of them having you declared the World Champion…
Blaire’s voice drops off as Fuse starts nodding.
Conor Fuse: Yes, yes. My cell phone and discord chat blew up after that first pinfall “victory”.
Blaire Moise: And tonight you’ll defend the tag titles against the two men that took the belts from you and Ray McAvay the first time… Cancer Jiles and Steve Harrison. You defeated Harrison inside the War Games cage and Jiles and yourself are also developing quite the history here.
The Ultimate Gamer takes a moment to let Blaire’s words sink in. Fuse doesn’t seem like his overly joyous self.
Conor Fuse: Egg drop from the Eggman, I’m aware. I thought that moron gave that shit up. Look, Blaire, it’s all good with me. If Jiles wants to hang on the top of the cage for the majority of the match, it makes sense. Because he’s a chicken shit champion and how I was ever afraid of him, I dunno. Jiles showed his worth when he finally got in the cage, though. He lost his World Championship immediately. I’ve heard the grumblings… they say I’m the next Cancer Jiles. No, Blaire, I’m the good guy. I actually have heart and wrestle with passion. And I’m willing to defend my friends no matter what.
Fuse pauses, collecting his thoughts.
Conor Fuse: Oh ya, Sutler. I will formally greet and congratulate him on another night. He’s the youngest World Champion in all of wrestling history, perhaps? It’s impressive. We had quite the battle. Harry Osborn meets Link. The Green Goblin vs. Spiderman. Resident Evil vs. Spyro the Dragon. Whatever you want to call it. He’s the guest referee in the main event title match and we do this song and dance ALL OVER again. Real fun shit, Blaire. Can’t wait for him to try counting a quick three. That’ll be original.
Conor smacks the title across his shoulder.
Conor Fuse: But I team with the murder daddy now. It’s not a mentorship. I’m not asking him to play some first-person shooter at my place. We literally do our own thing, meet outside Gorilla and then lay waste to our opponents. Ask my grandfather how he feels.
Fuse looks to end the interview but someone else comes into the picture, off camera.
Conor Fuse: [sarcastic] Great. What do you want?
Out from behind the always lumbering Laser, Cancer Jiles and his majestic hair and BA-Shades appear. P.S. Why has no one ever called them BS-Shades?
Jiles: Just to correct everything you said.
Shit meet grin. Fuse frowns. Blaire turns to leave, but Jiles isn’t having it.
Jiles: No, no! Hold your horses, Moise, you aren’t going anywhere either!
The Champion of… well, I guess just COOL for the moment, points an accusing finger at HOW’s thot.(SW)
Jiles: At the very start you left out the fact that Comet and Cuckler were battling for MY World Championship. Oversight or not, I don’t care if women have smaller brains than men, I.E. Lindsay Troy. This is HOW. The pinnacle. The tippy top, and just like Bilbo, you’ve been there and back again. Do better.
Jiles’ salt white shoes look to be sparkling clean from atop the soapbox he stands.
Jiles: And you.
Fuse knuckles up, Jiles points that finger of his again. The verified one.
Jiles: You crumb.
Jiles: You imposter dicked, Canadian Crumbknuckle. You’re a virgin– not the mythical kind that everyone likes, either, but the incell, bottom bitch, self imposed kind. Worse yet, you’re a prude, too. How’s that sound for not being scared? HA.
Conor rolls his eyes.
Conor Fuse: Oh? Is that right, cool guy?
Blaire backs away. Fuse and Jiles get more in each other’s faces.
Jiles: Yes. That is right, Comet. You’ve never popped my cherry, and you won’t later tonight.
Jiles: And here’s another thing I’m right about. Sure, while I could have defended the title more I suppose…
Fuse postures like he’s won the lottery.
Jiles: You, Comet. You, who just so happens to be one of the two guys who I did defend the World Championship against, well you sir don’t get to talk about it. You still lack the credits to graduate if you catch my cherry popping drift.
If either Jiles or Fuse has a cold, it’s a pretty safe bet the other one will have it now.
We quickly cut away….
The scene fades into the backstage area, more specifically the office of Lee Best. Lee leans back in his chair, his feet propped on the desk. The shot is over the shoulder of a man seated in the chair in front of Lee’s desk. The man’s dark hair is visible but out of focus, as the primary focus is Lee.
Lee Best: So, you’re taking over? That’s what you’re telling me?
Man: Fuckin’ right.
Lee Best: And your name is Shawn Kutter?
Shawn Kutter: Yeah, man. How many times do I have to tell you? I’m the one that met with you before Solex won that HOTv Championship. It was you and I that hatched the plan to win that thing, don’t you remember?
Lee raises an eyebrow, but quickly lowers it. He leans back further in his chair and clasps his hands across his chest.
Lee Best: Ah, yes.
His tone is suspicious, but he appears to be humoring Shawn.
Lee Best: So, eventually…you are taking over. But right now, it’s you AND Solex?
Shawn Kutter: Yeah, that’s right…for now. The man’s at the end of his run, and you need something fresh. Sure, he’s a champion right now. But how long could that possibly last? He’s an old, feeble man. If it wasn’t for the…medication…he’d surely be an old, shrill, fuck by now. Don’t you see it? I’m your future. You need me just as much as I need you.
Lee laughs to himself.
Lee Best: Need you? That’s a fuckin’ right, cause right now…
Lee grins from ear to ear.
Lee Best: I don’t think you’re in any position to make demands. If you want in, you got it. But here’s the deal. I already got one asshole with a mustache and that haircut. I don’t need another.
Lee leans forward and pulls open the drawer to his desk. He reaches in and pull out a mask. He tosses it across the room at Shawn Kutter, who leans forward and catches the flying face cover.
Lee Best: I’m gonna need you to wear that. At least until we get all of the kinks worked out. Once the kinks are worked out, and you’ve (throws up air quotes) taken over…you can take it off. But for now…when you’re working for me. You wear that mask. In the ring, outside of the ring, in my office…shit, I’d prefer it if you wore the fuckin’ thing at home…if I’m being perfectly honest.
Kutter looks down at the mask, but the look on his face isn’t seen as the shot is still from over his shoulder. He opens the mask up and looks at it. It’s a red mask, with your classic Luchador designs. Shawn seems a bit confused as he examines the mask.
Shawn Kutter: (clears throat) A mask?
Lee Best: Yeah, a fuckin’ mask. Is there a problem?
Shawn clinches the mask in his hand, before opening it up once more and pulling it on over his head.
Shawn Kutter: Nah, no problem at all.
Lee grins once more and leans back in his chair. He rests his hands behind his head.
Lee Best: I think this is going to work out just fine, Shawn. Now get the fuck outta’ here. Welcome to the Best Alliance you crazy fuck.
Shawn stands up from his chair as Lee Best laughs a bit maniacally. The scene fades to a commercial break.
John Sektor vs. Teddy Palmer
We open from commercial break to see Bryan McVay standing in the ring preparing to open us up. Joel Hortega walks down the aisle as we are about to kick off the LSD Championship match.
DING! DING! DING! DING! DING!
Bryan McVay: This match is set for one fall and is for the HOW LSD Chaaaaaaaaampionshiiiiip.
“Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap” by AC/DC blares over the PA system as John Sektor emerges from the backstage area. Immediately he’s drowned out in a chorus of boos as he walks down the ramp ignoring the fans jeers.
Bryan McVay: Introducing the challenger, representing the Best Alliance; ailing from Miami, Florida; weighing in at 245 Pounds; JOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHNNN SEEEEEEKTORRRRRR
Sektor rolls straight into the ring, cracking his knuckles together. He scowls awaiting Teddy Palmer to get down to the ring.
Joe Hoffman: Well folks for the first time in a LONG time the LSD Championship match will be contested in a standard match. You gotta believe this is a move done by Lee Best to give the technical wizard that is Sektor the advantage. Over the past few weeks, the rivalry between John Sektor and Teddy Palmer has intensified. Both men begged for this match and here we are…
Benny Newell: Palmer might be in a stable with the word Grappler in it but there is only one MACHINE inside that ring and its the Hall of Famer John fucking Sektor. There will be NO GIMMICKS for Palmer to hide behind now.
Joe Hoffman: You can’t count someone like Palmer out of this match. He eliminated Sektor in War Games. Teddy’s record speaks for itself. He’s a fighting champion.
Benny Newell: Fuck off, Hoffman! You damn well know I’m always betting on the Best Alliance no matter what you say…
“Hold Up a Light” by Thrice blares over the PA System as Teddy Palmer fiercely barrels down the entrance ramp.
Bryan McVay: And introducing your current reigning and defending HOW LSD Champion; from Toronto, Ontario……
Teddy Palmer immediately slides into the ring and…
WHAM! WHAM! WHAM!
Joe Hoffman: SEKTOR AND PALMER HAVE BOTH COMBUSTED! They didn’t even wait for McVay to finish their entrances. They couldn’t wait. Luckily McVay escaped unscathed. Teddy and Sektor couldn’t hold it back. Both fired off a serious of punches as Teddy got into the ring.
Benny Newell: McVay knows what the dangers of his job. He fucking should have known these two men weren’t going to wait for him to finish his introductions. You damn well know Sektor doesn’t wait for anyone to get what he wants. He waited long enough; he wants to strangle that fucking punk ass bitch Teddy Palmer now.
After getting the upper hand Teddy Palmer nails a vicious looking clothesline to Sektor. Both men crash on the outside of the ring. Teddy pulls himself back off the mat and kicks Sektor’s jaw. Palmer scoops Sektor’s body off the mat before flinging him into the barricade with a stiff T-Bone suplex. John Sektor reels in pain holding his back. Palmer lifts Sektor back to his feet and tackles his opponent’s back into the announcer’s table. Hortega continues with the count.
Teddy hesitates before rolling back into the ring. Meanwhile, Benny Newell pulls out his trademark bottle of Jack Daniels for a drink.
Joe Hoffman: Already regretting your Sektor bet on the HOG?
Benny Newell: Fuck no, Hoffman! I want a drink. Sektor’s only getting started. You’ll see!
As Teddy rolls out of the ring, Sektor rips Benny’s bottle of Jack Daniels off the table. Before Palmer reaches Sektor; John slings whiskey straight into Teddy’s eyes. Sektor smashes the bottle into Palmer’s face. Hortega scolds Sektor for the blatant disregarding of the rules. John blows off the lecture continuing his onslaught of punches.
Joe Hoffman: And Jack Daniels betrays Teddy Palmer!
Benny Newell: Fuck that shit, Hoffhole; Jack’s always been Best Alliance. Great use of whiskey by Sektor right there. I’ll allow it.
Sektor’s eye widen while he approaches the ring steps. He kicks the top set of stairs off before driving Palmer’s skull into them with a DDT. John lifts Palmer off the mat and hurls him shoulder first into the turnbuckle. Without hesitation, Hortega yells out the count in his attempts to wrangle both men into the ring.
Sektor snatches Teddy’s hair and wraps around the turnbuckle holding him in place. John rolls back into the ring and rolls out before hoisting Teddy’s body on his shoulders. Sektor charges towards the turnbuckle and lobs Palmer shoulder first against it.
Not satisfied with his destruction of Palmer, Sektor snickers before charging at Teddy. Teddy’s body crashes against the barricade with brunt force. Sektor’s face shows no remorse. He elevates Palmer and nails a sick looking body slam right into the steel of the barricade. Dangling helplessly off the side, Palmer’s body slides into the crowd as Sektor walks back into the ring.
Joe Hoffman: Why is John Sektor walking back into the ring. Sektor can’t win the championship via countout! He’s a veteran! He should know better!
Benny Newell: He’s taunting his prey, Hoffhole. You don’t win championships in HOW off brute physicality. You fuck with the mind of your prey. You break their spirit.
Sektor rolls in the ring to taunt the broken Teddy Palmer as Teddy struggles to collect himself. Teddy saunters over the barricade glaring a hole right through John as Hortega once again counts.
Hobbling over to the ring, Teddy rolls back inside only to get met with Sektor’s foot. Sektor stomps at Palmer with unrelenting force. The crowd claps trying to energize the broken champ’s spirits. Sektor balks before grabbing Teddy’s body and driving it into the canvas with a backbreaker.
John Sektor: Shut up!
The crowd’s disapproval loudens as Sektor nails a neckbreaker to Teddy. John then wraps Palmer’s arm up into the fuijwa armbar, and the crowd rallies more behind Teddy.
Teddy inches towards the bottom rope at a slow pace while his face winces in pain. Noticing his opponent is gaining more energy Sektor cinches in the lock deeper to injure the arm. Teddy’s fingertips barely grace the ropes before he gets pulled back into the center of the ring. Palmer’s fingers pulse signaling he’s about ready to give up.
Benny Newell: Tap you son of a bitch. End your fucking misery now, Palmer, before Sektor rips your damn arm off.
Joe Hoffman: This Pittsburg crowd won’t allow him to give up. They’re clapping their asses off trying to power up the champion.
Benny Newell: They won’t turn the momentum of this match—
Hobbling to regain ground, Teddy pulls himself off the mat and hoists Sektor up in the air.
Joe Hoffman: You were saying?
Teddy forcefully drives Sektor down into the mat with a powerbomb out of desperation. Hortega counts the cover.
Benny Newell: THANK GOD!!!!
Joe Hoffman: The Champion didn’t have enough power forcing Sektor’s to the mat. He’s worn out after the onslaught from Sektor.
Palmer wastes no time struggling to the ropes and lifts himself back to his feet. Charging with all the might left in his body; Palmer rushes at Sektor and hits a ripcord knee straight to the jaw. The challenger collapses straight to the mat. Rushing towards the ropes, Palmer leaps up hitting a picture-perfect springboard elbow. Connecting with the sternum knocks the air straight out of Sektor’s lungs. Palmer hoists Sektor on his shoulders and smashes him against the mat using the spinning sidewalk slam. Picking Sektor off the mat, Palmer charges at him with a European Uppercut.
Joe Hoffman: Teddy’s on fire! He’s determined to destroy Sektor after what he’s done in this match.
Nailing punch after punch to Sektor’s gut, Teddy then rushes to nail knee after knee on Sektor’s gut. Palmer grabs Sektor and hits an unforgiving snap suplex on his opponent. Palmer’s eyes widen watching Sektor reeling in pain. Rushing towards Sektor, Palmer cracks Sektor’s skull with a short-armed clothesline.
Hortega walks over to check on Sektor as Teddy pulls his opponent off the mat. Palmer sets up for the Fisherman’s Neckbreaker without noticing Sektor flailing around.
Joe Hoffman: This is it! The UnscripTED!!!!! He’s going to finish off Sektor right here!
Benny Newell: Not like this, Hoffhole!
Joe Hoffman: Wait?! Sektor’s got a handful of Hortega’s shirt.
Teddy loosens his grip trying to readjust, but it’s too late! Sektor jams his knee straight into Palmer’s groin dropping him with sheer force to the mat. John wastes no time scoops Palmer’s cringing body off the mat before dropping it back down with a C-Sektion. He transitions straight into the Sektor Stretch into a strong position.
Joe Hoffman: Seriously, not like this! Not like this!
Benny Newell: Sektor’s got him into a compromised position, Hoffhole. He either taps out or he breaks his neck. In all my years of calling Sektor matches; I haven’t seen him this savage.
The crowd cheers Teddy on hoping for the best, but Sektor yanks the neck back further before the inevitable conclusion.
Bryan McVay: Here is your winner….AND NEEEEEEEEEEEEEEW HOW LSD CHAMPION: JOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHN SEEEEEEEKTOR!
The crowd boos as Sektor lets go of the hold and jumps to his fee, rushes over, and yanks the belt out of McVay’s hands. He hoists it above his head celebrating before walking over to Teddy’s body. Adding insult to injury, Sektor flaunts the belt in the Palmer’s face. He embraces the boos as he walks back up the ramp.
Joe Hoffman: That sick jackass stole Palmer’s title! Hortega should have seen that low blow.
Benny Newell: Sektor didn’t steal Palmer’s title, Hoffhole; he won it creatively. A legend like Sektor knows how to get violent to win the most violent prize in HOW. Back the fuck off and enjoy this moment, Hoffman. Embrace the reign of Sektor!
Teddy slowly sits up and sees Sektor posing with the belt as HOW officials come to check on him. He eyes Sektor with despise. As the new champion smiles, both men eye each other signaling this isn’t over as we cut elsewhere.
We cut to backstage where Blaire Moise is with Darin Zion, fresh off a tough loss the week before in Rockford, Illinois where he faced Steve Solex and Zeb Martin in a three-way match for the brand new HOTv Title.
Blaire Moise: Darin, I know you want to talk about the new HOTv champion Steve Solex tonight. But first, I’d like to talk about what happened last week during the HOTv title match between you, Solex, and Zeb Martin…
(Last Week’s: HOTv Title Match)
Solex back to his feet. He slowly turns. Zion gets ready to unleash the Ban Hammer.
There’s a scream. Zion turns away from Solex.
Joe Hoffman: WAIT! WHAT…WHO IS THAT?
Some guy holding an oversized pencil in his hand he’s just used to knock down Meredith, hovers over Zion’s downed manager and makes eye contact with Zion in the ring.
With Zion focused on the unexpected intruder, Solex rushes forward and with a mighty two hand shove sends his distracted opponent through the ropes to the floor.
Blaire Moise: Darin, this may have cost you the HOTv title. What happened? And who is the guy who attacked Meredith.
Darin Zion: Honestly Blaire? I don’t know. This guy attacked me in Chicago two weeks ago and-
Male Voice (strange dialect): Dar-reen Zyyy-on.
The man to whom Darin is referring to walks out and joins them. He’s dressed in what could charitably described as ‘in a rather odd outfit’- an outfit that looks strangely similar, but yet different, recognizable, but not quite a cheesy rip-off of something that would violate any copyright or intellectual property laws.
He also has the same oversized pencil used to attack Meredith last week.
The man also gets the attention of HOW’s legal department. They flock around a monitor backstage to watch the strange person in the ring with Blaire Moise.
Man: Dar-reen Zyyy-on. I knew you’d…
He pauses to pull out a pocket thesaurus while he assesses the legal ramifications of what he’s about to say and makes sure he gets it right.
Man: …show up.
Backstage, there’s a huge sigh of relief from HOW’s legal department.
Blaire Moise: Who are you and why did you attack Meredith last week in Rockford, Illinois?
Man: You… can call me Br-…
Again, pause to reflect on what he’s about to say and to check the pocket thesaurus.
Blaire waits impatiently and even does the little hand gesture to inform him that he should just spit it out.
Man: ‘Defective’ Marty Pratt.
And again, huge exhales of relief from the HOW legal department.
Blaire Moise: Okay Defective Marty Pratt. What the hell are you doing here?
Defective Marty Pratt: I have been sent by someone with…
Marty looks down and thumbs through the thesaurus again.
Defective Marty Pratt: …huge sums of cash to send a message to Dar-reen Zyyy-on.
Blaire Moise: Okay. So someone paid you big money–
And the HOW legal department all begin to hyperventilate.
Defective Marty Pratt: NO-NO! We cannot say… that of what you have just said.
Blaire Moise: What? All I said was someone paid you big money to-
Marty covers his ears.
Defective Marty Pratt: NOOOO! You said it again!
The HOW legal department now all suffer a massive collective stroke backstage.
Blaire is just plain annoyed now.
Blaire Moise: WHAT!
Defective Marty Pratt: Blaire of Moise. I have been paid a… large sum of cash to bring my defective distinguishment here to the Wrestling of High Octane because…
He turns to Zion.
Defective Marty Pratt: Dar-reen Zyyy-on… purloiner of property of intellect. I’ve been asked to send a message to you. You see, Dar-reen Zyyy-on, you are in for what will be an unfortunate twist…
Everyone holds their breath…
Defective Marty Pratt: …um, arc of circumstance called… ERASURE!
Darin just ‘looks’ back at him trying to figure out just what the hell this is all about.
Blaire’s still trying to figure out what the hell this is all about.
Hell, EVERYONE is wondering what the hell this is all about.
Quick cut to backstage where Cecilworth Farthington is sitting in the locker room. Farthington looks at the camera, shakes his head, and mouths the word ‘no.’ We cut right back to the ring.
Okay, everyone except Cecilworth Farthington is wondering what the hell this is all about.
Pratt brandishes the oversized pencil and points it at Darin.
Defective Marty Pratt: The point is Dar-reen Zyyy-on. You must be…
He jabs the eraser end into Zion’s midsection.
Defective Marty Pratt: …ERASED!
Now it’s Blaire’s turn to shoot a ‘what the fuck’ look at Defective Marty Pratt.
Defective Marty Pratt: ERASE!
Again he jabs Zion with the pencil.
Darin Zion: HEY!
Defective Marty Pratt: ERASE!
Darin Zion: Stop!
Defective Marty Pratt: ERASE!
Darin Zion: Ow! Cut it out!
Defective Marty Pratt: ERASE!
Darin Zion: OW!
Defective Marty Pratt: ERASE!
Digusted and totally done with this segment, Blaire turns to the camera.
Blaire Moise: Oh for Lee’s sake, let’s go to commercial…
Defective Marty Pratt: ERASE!
Darin Zion: STOP IT!
Cut to commercial.
Dont Trust Anyone
We come back from commercial, only to be greeted by grainy footage from the compound of the Eternal Circle as a frustrated, perhaps angry Xander Azula steps into frame. We see his fellow worshipers dressed with their hooded robes, but there are no theatrics from their head disciple here as Azula speaks.
Xander Azula: There were plenty of lessons to be learned from War Games, some very harsh lessons as a matter of fact…and the biggest one for me was trust.
Xander pauses, rubbing his face in frustration as though struggling to speak what is necessary…but he soon finds the courage to do just that.
Xander Azula: In the days leading up to that brutal match, there were talks of camaraderie and doing things for the good of the cause, all that usual foolishness…and the 214 led me to believe I could trust in their cause, that our goals were aligned. What a damn fool I was.
He emphasizes that last sentence, a snarl forming on his face as he dwells on the thought.
Xander Azula: So ends the alliance of convenience, as the 214 faces the consequences of their transgressions and I am forced to regroup. I am staying away from whatever fallout awaits those traitors, for my own sanity…but I will be back, mark my words. I may have lost the battle in Tokyo, but I have found myself back in the favor of my goddess in the process…and Eris is hungry for blood.
His snarl soon fades, replaced by a smirk…and even a grin.
Xander Azula: Even when I cannot trust man or woman or Local Grappler, I can trust in my goddess. Hail Eris, hail Discordia.
His fellow worshipers join him in repeating this refrain as the footage cuts to black.
Clay Byrd vs. Mike Best
We cut back live inside the arena and to the Hall of Fame announce team.
Joe Hoffman: We’ve got a volatile one up next for you, folks– tonight’s HOFC Championship defense was literally booked live on High Octane Radio at the request of both Michael Lee Best and challenger Clay Byrd. What seemed like a friendly contest has quickly boiled over into something much more combustible, however, with both men talking a lot of trash and escalating tensions both on camera and off over the last week.
Benny Newell: At least there’s finally some fucking heat on one of these matches though, Joe. No such thing as bad press, right? The fucking Ballroom is sold out, and I for one am ready to see a win-win match– the Best family controls the HOFC Championship, no matter who wins.
Joe Hoffman: There may be such a thing as bad press, Benny. A lot of people were put off by the actions leading up to this match, with rumors that Lee Best himself will be addressing it, possibly as early as tonight.
Benny Newell: A few slaps on the wrist and everyone will be friends, Joe. I wouldn’t worry about it. These are two of Lee’s boys, what’s the worst that can happen?
Joe Hoffman: Only one way to find out. Let’s go to the live feed in Manhattan!
As we cut live to 311 West 34th Street in Midtown, fans lucky enough to get a ticket to the space are crowded around the cage. The new HOFC fighting space hasn’t been entirely finished yet– construction is still underway, and it is standing room only as we find the challenger, Clay Byrd, already standing in the cage with a look of pure menace on his face. Michael Lee Best is standing outside of the cage, handing the HOFC Championship off to the location’s timekeeper, as he heads with Rick Stevens into the proper cage to begin the match.
Rick checks in with both men, and we’re already ready to get this one underway after a lack of fancy entrances due to construction. The smaller space makes the room run hotter, and the stage lights create an atmosphere almost like a seedy fight in a huge fucking basement. Both men assure the referee that they’re ready to begin, and Stevens calls for the bell.
DING DING DING
The bell rings, and immediately the towering Clay Byrd steps to the center of the cage and literally looks down on the champion. There’s a smirk on his face as he beckons the champion on, but Mike Best is happy to sneer right back at him. The champion steps forward, and despite being the much smaller man, posts right up to the chest of Clay Byrd and stares back up at his eyes.
Joe Hoffman: It may be a cliche, but certainly no love lost here. This is the second time these men have squared up, and it’s been a powder keg on both occasions.
Benny Newell: Fourth round knockout, Joe. Best retains with the knee. It’s just too strong.
Joe Hoffman: HOFC no longer has rounds, Benny. This is just a fight to survive, KO and submission only. I’m afraid your bold, but usually accurate, predictions aren’t going to work anymore.
Benny Newell: Fuck yourself. Fourth round KO. Best retains with the knee.
Mike Best starts talking some shit to the challenger, but Clay has had enough talking for the week. He open palm snacks the champ across the mouth, getting an “OOOH!” from the crowd! Best is stumbled from the power behind the shot, and Clay literally grabs him like a dead dog and tosses him into one of the walls of the cage, bringing him to the canvas!
Best grabs the cage and climbs back up, daring Clay to bring a little more. He charges the challenger with a right hand, but Clay counters and staggers the champ with another swing, this time tossing him into the cage wall on the other side! The crowd is even louder now, as Best gets up slower. He’s literally being rag dolled!
Joe Hoffman: Not a strong start for the champion. Clay has been in the cage with him before and he knows the tricks.
Benny Newell: Just wait, Joe. He’ll get cute and fuck it up. I made my prediction.
Beat isn’t so eager to charge in again this time, so he circles the cage and looks for an opening. The champion throws a couple of leg legs, embracing his MMA training and taking advantage of Clay’s more traditional style. Clay has trouble checking the kicks, as the champion slowly tries to wear down his lower body.
A big leg kick takes Clay down to a knee, and now the crowd is buzzing. Best takes a step back, charging forward to end this match quickly, but Clay literally grabs the champion by the knee and let and hoists him up, running toward another cage wall and powerbombing Michael Best directly into the steel! The cage rocks, trying to give way, but it holds together as the fans get on their feet!
Joe Hoffman: WHOA! He damned near took the cage down with him! My God!
Benny Newell: It’s just like I told you, Joe! NEW CHAMPION tonight, Clay Byrd in the fourth by KO!
Michael Best writhes around on the canvas, having missed coming down on his head, but still in a lot of pain after a huge showing of force by the challenger. Byrd yells at Rick Stevens to make the count, but there are no TKOs here tonight– it’s a submission or a pure knockout, and the champion is still moving.
This only seems to make Clay angrier, as he grabs the champion by the hair and lifts him up to wobbling legs. He throws a suplex like he’s tossing a small child– Mike flies over head and connects with the mat, but Clay isn’t done. He picks Best up again, nailing another suplex, and appears to be in complete control here tonight.
Joe Hoffman: It would appear that maybe Clay had a point, folks. The champion has been coasting. I don’t think he was prepared for the behemoth that is Clay Byrd.
Benny Newell: Imagine the frustration of War Games, Joe. This is why the Best Alliance is so fucking strong. They don’t piss and moan and quit when they lose– they come back stronger. FUCKING DRINK FOR CLAY PHOENYX!
Running on adrenaline now, Mike Best manages to pop back up to his feet, and now he’s in desperation mode. He slides around behind Clay Byrd, giving him a stiff kick to the back of the knee. He throws another, and then shoves Clay Byrd into another untouched wall of the cage here tonight. They’ve already used three of them, so I guess that makes this one…
The fourth wall.
Clay’s face hits the cage, as Best starts just throwing wild haymaker forearms into the back of his skull, trying to soften up the killer Texan. Clay manages to turn himself around now, and it’s a clinch against the steel as the fans buzz. Michael Lee Best is throwing clinch knees to the gut like his life depends on it, because here tonight, it might.
Benny Newell: This doesn’t feel like a huge comeback. It feels like the rush right before a guy gets beat.
Joe Hoffman: Please don’t talk about match formulas during matches anymore, Benny. We’ve all had a very long week.
Benny Newell: I idolize Mike Best, and if I were him, I’d be salty and spoiling the finish too. FINE CLAY, CONGRATULATIONS I GUESS. Don’t you boys in the truck edit this out, either!
With a mighty heave, Clay Byrd literally shoves Mike Best backward off his feet, causing him to roll into a backward somersault. Clay grins, but Best charges right back in, throwing all his weight into a clothesline that takes Byrd back to the cage! The fans groan, as the cage begins to sag under the weight of Clay Byrd and the momentum. Clay shoves Best backward again, into a backward somersault… and Best comes back with another clothesline! The cage is rocking now! Literally trying not to give way, as Rick Stevens tries to step in and call for a break for repairs to be made to the cage.
Clay Byrd shoves Rick Stevens away, telling him everything is fine. Best charges in again, though, and while Clay is focused on Rick Stevens, the champion sails into the air with a shining wizard knee! It collides with the skull of Clay Byrd, and both men sail into the cage…
AND THE CAGE GIVES WAY!
Both men are sent flying through the steel as the cage tears and gives way, landing in a heap outside of the ring. The debris from the cage lands on a couple of fans, impaling a man wearing an “I HEART SCOTLAND” t-shirt and another man next to him, who looks like he is probably scary and from Texas.
Joe Hoffman: MY GOD! THEY LITERALLY TORE THROUGH THE CAGE! I KNEED A HERO THROUGH THE CAGE!
Benny Newell: THEY LITERALLY FUCKING SHATTERED THE FOURTH WALL OF THE HOFC OCTAGON! THEY MIGHT HAVE KILLED TWO MEN IN THE PROCESS! WHAT IS A CRUNK AND A BROLIN?
Rick Stevens sprints outside of the cage to check on the carnage, as EMTs come running down to see what happened. The fans are being held back by security as the debris gets sorted out, and Rick Stevens finally finds Mike Best climbing up to a knee, as Clay Byrd lies completely unconscious beneath the remnants of the cage.
DING DING DING
Michael Lee Best rolls to one side, snatching the HOFC Championship back from the timekeeper as he pulls it taught to his chest.
WINNER AND STILL CHAMPION: Michael Lee Best via Knockout
Michael slowly crawls from the wreckage of the cage, looking around the sea of fans around him as he raises the belt slowly into the air. He doesn’t get a lot of time to celebrate though…
The stiff boot connects with the side of Michael’s head like a gunshot, sending him tumbling back into the remnants of the cage. Standing above him, the 4th Wahl has seemingly gone fully Hulk-Smash crazy, and he begins kicking the living dog fuck out of the Son of God.
Joe Hoffman: Oh… oh my God! They broke the fourth wall of that cage so obscenely that it has fully broken The 4th Wahl, as well! He’s a man incensed!
Benny Newell: I COULD NOT HAVE PREDICTED THIS.
The 4th Wahl picks Mike Best up from the ground, living him back up and powerbombing the HOFC Champion into the twisted steel. He then turns his attention on Clay Byrd, who is slowly pulling himself up.
A punt kick rails into the jaw of the Texan Best Alliance member, who skitters sideways into the guardrail protecting them from the crowd. The 4th Wahl rests Clay up against the barricade, before taking a piece of the cage and repeatedly smashing Clay across the face and chest with it. The crowd looks on horror as the 4th Wahl uses the broken fourth wall to beat Clay Byrd for breaking the fourth wall.
As the monster turns to walk away from the wreckage, the EMTs continue to go to work on these wrestlers as Refueled cuts to its final commercial break.
Grapplers Local 214 vs. The Best Alliance
Back live from commercial and we are also back live inside the PPG Paints Arena here in Pittsburgh.
Immediately “Take the Money and Run,” by The Steve Miller Band starts to play and the curtain flies open.
Steve Harrison walks out with his arms in the air, a smirk across his face. He begins walking towards the rings and begins waving at that crowd who return his waves with boos and indifference.
Joe Hoffman: And it’s time for our main event for the HOW Tag Team titles.
The smirk begins to fade after hearing the response so the Miracle Man begins jawing back at some of the audience and pointing to himself yelling over and over “ME, ME, ME!.”
Steve walks faster to the ring his smirk now a scowl, he enters the rings and leans against one of the turnbuckles and begins talking to himself, his face becoming red in anger.
The lights dim. The arena quiets. A chill moves through the air…
“I am the COOL” explodes over the speakers.
~I’m the one your mama warned you about
~When you see me, I will leave you no doubt
~I’m the coolest man that ever walked this earth
~I’ve been the coolest since the day of my birth
~I AM THE COOL.
Out from behind the curtain, after a second or two of suspense, The Crown Prince of COOL, Cancer Jiles emerges. Shades on, hair on point, he pauses at the top of ramp and basks in the glorious affection of his precious OctaBandits.
After having his fill, Jiles confidently makes his way down to the ring as Harrison shakes his head.
Benny Newell: The rightful HOT tag team champions!
Joe Hoffman: The what?
Benny Newell: Jiles and Harrison lost the belts without having a chance to defend them.
Joe Hoffman: Funny, Lindsay Troy and Teddy Palmer can say the exact same thing!
Harrison hops onto the apron while Jiles slides underneath and the turnbuckles explode.
Benny Newell: Fuck Lindsay Troy. He’s gone. Teddy Palmer lost the LSD title and after Cancer Jiles and Steve Harrison finishes off these pretenders tonight, Grappler’s Local 214 is done.
“Bloody Tears (Epic Version)” from Castlevania II begins.
A purple mist floods the entrance way as “The Vintage” Conor Fuse emerges from behind the apron 23-seconds into the theme. He stands at the top of the rampway, head down, sporting a dark purple jacket with its high-collar raised. The jacket is open, showing his vintage SNES tights as he slowly raises his head.
Joe Hoffman: And here come the champions!
The fog continues to pump from the stage as Fuse methodically makes his way down the ramp. The crowd starts a “!rank” chant, pointing in Conor’s direction as he marches towards ringside.
Once in front of the squared circle, The Vintage leaps onto the apron and then with ease clears the ropes by jumping over them and somersaulting into the middle of the ring. Fuse tilts his head back and zen cries into the rafters while the fans in attendance continue to cheer him on.
Conor removes his trench coat, revealing his trademarked light purple arm sleeve on his left arm. Fuse waits in his corner.
The lights go out and a dual-spotlight makes an encircling pattern on the entrance area as the opening riff of the song plays. When the riff audio kicks it up a notch, Dan Ryan steps out and pauses, looking into the audience, then heads down the aisle as pyro blasts behind him.
Benny Newell: Fuck Dan Ryan too. What he did to Jatt Starr at War Games two weeks was just…FUCKING DISGUSTING.
The video shows clips from his career: power bombing Bobby Dean, super kicking Andy Murray, taking MJ Flair’s head off with a clothesline, hitting Perfection with the Headliner, countering a Jack Harmen dive into a vicious power slam, smirking as he pins Doozer, standing on a balcony looking down at Andy Murray with a sinister grin on his face.
Joe Hoffman: Dan Ryan is coming into this match with a bad knee. Will the challengers target that knee?
Benny Newell: Fuck the LEFT knee. I hope they break his fucking neck tonight.
Ryan walks directly to the ring with a slight limp, rolls in under the bottom rope, and climbs the nearest turnbuckle, keeping his arms down and smirking into the crowd as the music plays.
Joe Hoffman: All right, we’ve got all four men are in the ring now so let’s go to Bryan McVay for the introductions.
McVay is in the ring and ready to go.
Bryan McVay: Ladies and gentlemen! This match is one fall and it is for the HOW TAG TEAM TITLE!
McVay pauses for the requisite applause that follows.
Bryan McVay: In this corner, representing the Best Alliance, weighing in at a combined weight of 474 lbs…. The Miracle Man… STEVE! HAAAAAARRRRIIIISSSSOOOOOON! And the God of Cool! The epitome of Coolness. Coolness personified! COOL! CANCER! JILES!
Harrison and Jiles ignore the crowd and talk strategy in their corner.
Bryan McVay: And now introducing the HOW Tag Team Champions in this corner. First, from Toronto, Ontario… Canada. Weighing in tonight at 210 pounds. COOOOOOOOONOR FUUUUUUUUSE! And hailing from Houston, Texas, and weighing in at 305 pounds!! He… is… DAAAAANNNN… RYYYYYYAAAANNNNN!!!
Fuse bounces up and down in the corner. Ryan glares across the ring at Harrison and Jiles.
Bryan McVay: And now your guest referee for tonight’s match…
The heavy metal riff of Solence’s cover of “Believer” rips over the PA system as the High Octane Wrestling crowd groans and boos 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.
Around his waist, the #97 Red HOW World Title belt.
Benny Newell: THE CHAMPION IS HERE!
Bryan McVay: He is the President of Human Resources, the World’s Greatest Gamer, the Son of Scions and always High Octane Wrestling’s Employee of the Week, and the NEW HOW WORLD CHAMPION… 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.
Joe Hoffman: The man who helped the Best Alliance carry the day two weeks ago at War Games and who has a major issue with Conor Fuse is going to be the guest referee for this match?
Benny Newell: Sutler will call it right down the middle!
Reaching the ring, Sutler hops up onto the apron pausing for a moment before 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.
Joe Hoffman: All right. We are just about ready.
Conor Fuse and Cancer Jiles to start. But Steve Harrison is halfway around the ring and pointing at Dan Ryan.
Joe Hoffman: Steve Harrison is shouting at Dan Ryan. I know Harrison was upset at what Dan did to Jatt Starr two weeks ago and I know he called it ‘barbaric.’
Now Fuse and Jiles start ‘chatting.’
Joe Hoffman: And now Conor Fuse and Cancer Jiles are exchanging words.
Benny Newell: Cancer Jiles was also upset about what happened at War Games and he should be. He lost the tag belts and the world title to Ryan and Fuse without-
Joe Hoffman: Don’t even start that again. Jiles and Harrison have no room to talk about losing their belts without defending them when they won the belts from Grappler’s Local 214’s Ray McAvay and Conor Fuse even though it was Lindsay Troy and Teddy Palmer who actually won the title.
Benny Newell: I hope Steve Harrison gets the chance to properly ‘express’ his feelings to him… with a fucking knee to the back of the head.
Eventually, Sutler points Harrison back to his corner.
Finally, Harrison is back to where he’s supposed to be. Fuse and Jiles continue to glare at each other as they circle.
Sutler calls for the bell…
Joe Hoffman: I think we’ve finally got this match under way.
Lock up- Jiles pulls away at the last second. Smirking, he backs up to his corner and tags Steve Harrison in.
Benny Newell: Aw fuck, here we go!
Harrison steps through the ropes and he locks eyes with Conor Fuse. Lock up. Armdrag by Harrison and he twists the arm. Fuse escapes. He whips Harrison to the ropes. Harrison ducks the clothesline and hits the other ropes. Fuse jumps and Harrison goes under to the other ropes again. Off the ropes, Fuse snaps off a spinning heel kick. Harrison ducks. Armdrag takedown by Harrison followed by a few quick boots. Cover…
T- Fuse kicks out.
Harrison pulls Fuse towards the Best Alliance corner and tags Cancer Jiles back in. Jiles pulls Fuse towards him and clotheslines him to the mat. Leg drop by Jiles. Jiles whips Fuse into the ropes…Harrison slips into the ring and catches Fuse and spins him and then brings him back down to the mat as he kneels and slams the Fuse’s back across the extended knee.
Joe Hoffman: Good doubleteam work there. Harrison with a backbreaker.
Jiles follows with an elbow drop.
Joe Hoffman: Jiles with the elbow.
Fuse kicks out again.
Benny Newell: Only postponing the inevitable. Jiles and Harrison are a fucking well-oiled machine tonight.
Joe Hoffman: We’ll I have to say Sutler Reynolds-Kael counted it pretty fair on both counts.
Benny Newell: Told ya he’s call it right down the middle.
Fuse tags in Dan Ryan and he immediately goes on the offensive. Running clothesline to Jiles. Ryan grabs Jiles’s leg and holds it parallel to the mat, then spins the leg inwards causing Jiles to fall off balance and twist in the air bringing him to the ground in a turning motion.
Joe Hoffman: Dragon screw!
Ryan pulls Jiles up and clotheslines him right back down. Ryan throws lefts and rights and covers.
T-Jiles kicks right out.
Ryan sends him into the ropes. He waits. Lifts and drives Jiles to the mat.
Joe Hoffman: Spinebuster by Dan Ryan!
Ryan’s left leg buckles slightly but he recovers and hooks the leg.
Joe Hoffman: Jiles kicks out and Dan Ryan nearly got him there.
Benny Newell: Not even close Hoffman. Not even close.
Ryan limps back to his corner tags Conor Fuse right back in.
Joe Hoffman: Fuse tags in and it looks like Dan Ryan’s knee is not even close to one hundred percent.
Jiles greets Conor with a shoulder tackle. He measures…and drops a closed fist. Jiles back to the ropes. Fuse rolls away and ducks a lariat attempt. But Jiles stops and lifts Fuse up into an airplane spin- then he drives him to the mat. Jiles hooks a leg.
TWO- Ryan in and drives a double axe handle into Jiles’ back to break the pinfall.
Fuse rakes the eyes! Jiles levels Fuse with a vicious right hand. Jiles pulls Fuse up and whips him into the ropes. The former Egg Bandit lines up his target and drives his boot right to the balls of Conor Fuse.
Joe Hoffman: Cancer Jiles with a deliberate low blow there.
Benny Newell: Oh stop. It was an accident.
Fuse is bent over.
Benny Newell: Oh grow a pair already.
Jiles lifts him up… INVERTED ATOMIC DROP.
Joe Hoffman: And if Conor Fuse wasn’t already feeling the pain.
Benny Newell: Hah. Conor may need to grow a new pair.
Jiles takes a side headlock. He slaps Fuse in the back and drives him head first to the mat.
Joe Hoffman: DDT by Cancer Jiles!
Joe Hoffman: HE KICKED OUT! And that count was faster.
Benny Newell: You’re just seeing things.
Fuse notices the same. He goes up to Kael and lets him know about it.
Joe Hoffman: Conor Fuse is not happy about that last count.
Sutler stands firm while Fuse to vent away. Then Scion of Sons turns his back just as Jiles arrives with a forearm smash to Fuse’s back.
Joe Hoffman: Aw come on!
Benny Newell: Conor Fuse shouldn’t have been arguing with the referee then.
Fuse whirls around- ANOTHER low blow by Jiles. Fuse crumples over. Jiles takes Fuse by the back of the head and drives it to the mat.
Joe Hoffman: Jiles bulldogs Fuse to the mat and now Harrison’s in the ring.
The Miracle Man steps in. Jiles sets Fuse up and Harrison clotheslines him. Fuse on the deck. Jiles to the top rope. Harrison lays the boots to Fuse. He steps back. Jiles leaps and hits a moonsault on Fuse.
Joe Hoffman: It’s two on one and Conor Fuse is in trouble. What’s the referee doing?
Special referee Sutler Reynolds-Kael has his back turned to the action. In fact, he’s ignoring the action and taunting Dan Ryan with the HOW World Title belt around his waist.
Joe Hoffman: What is he doing?
Benny Newell: It’s clear what’s happening here. Dan Ryan is arguing with Sutler Reynolds-Kael.
Jiles rakes Fuse’s back while Harrison lays the chops in to his chest.
Joe Hoffman: Dan Ryan hasn’t said a word to Sutler Reynolds-Kael.
Benny Newell: Well, whatever Dan Ryan’s doing is keeping Sutler Reynolds-Kael from watching what’s going on in the ring.
Joe Hoffman: Dan Ryan isn’t saying or doing anything.
Jiles and Harrison whip Fuse into the corner and work him over with lefts, rights, and boots to the midsection.
Joe Hoffman: Okay. This is just ridiculous.
Benny Newell: That’s is all Dan Ryan’s fault. He’s hurting his own tag team partner by distracting the referee!
Joe Hoffman: How can you say that when that is patently not true?
Reynolds-Kael continues his ‘conversation’ with Dan Ryan which consists of the champion bragging about the world title while Ryan glares back at him silently and points Kael back to the action in the ring.
Benny Newell: He just is… DRINK!
Fuse staggers out of the corner. Harrison holds him up from behind. Jiles comes up to him…
Joe Hoffman: COOLYMPIAN YOLJK!
…but Fuse ducks and Harrison gets it in his eyes instead.
Benny Newell: DAMMIT!
Conor Fuse: WEAPON GET!
Fuse smacks his hand across Jiles’s chest.
Benny Newell: Oh shit.
He ‘downloads’ Jiles’s finisher… turns… *SMACK*
Joe Hoffman: TERMINAL CANCER TO CANCER JILES!
Jiles tips over like a falling tree. Harrison falls back to the corner and tries to clear his eyes. Fuse stumbles back to his corner and shoves Reynolds-Kael out of the way.
Benny Newell: He can’t do that to the referee!
Joe Hoffman: Hot tag to Dan Ryan!
Benny Newell: GET THE FUCK OUT OF THERE GUYS!
Ryan throws a heavy right to Jiles. Right to Harrison. Right to Jiles. Ryan lifts Jiles up and brings him forcefully down with a back breaker. Conor Fuse back in the ring and he hits a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker on Harrison.
Benny Newell: CHEAT! CHEAT! They’re both in the ring at the same time!
Joe just shakes his head.
Sutler does start a five count on the tag champions double team efforts.
Joe Hoffman: You’ve got to be kidding me! Now he makes a five count?
Ryan tosses Harrison out of the ring. Forearm by Fuse to Jiles. Standing missile dropkick sends Jiles right into Ryan’s waiting hands. Fuse exits. Ryan slaps on a full nelson. He goes for a slam- his balky knee begins to buckle and Ryan can’t execute the move.
Joe Hoffman: And again, Dan Ryan’s knee isn’t right… OH! Kick to the knee by Jiles!
Ryan’s leg gives out and he drops to a knee. Harrison again into the ring. He hits a dropkick to Ryan’s knee.
Joe Hoffman: And now Harrison targets the knee.
Harrison tosses a steel folding chair to Jiles. Jiles drills Ryan in the knee with the chair. *WHAM* He does it again. Conor Fuse leans into the ring and just screams at Sutler Reynolds-Kael. Jiles goes top rope. Springboard dropkick to the knee. Jiles rolls him up.
But there’s no count. Sutler is now taunting Conor Fuse with the HOW world title belt.
Jiles shouts at him. Sutler turns- sees the pinfall- and dives to the mat.
TWO…Ryan gets the shoulder up.
Benny Newell: Aw come on Sutler!
Joe Hoffman: Perhaps he should stop showing off the title belt and actually referee the match.
Jiles walks over and goes to stomp the knee. Ryan swipes the leg with his hand and knocks Jiles off balance. Ryan gets to a knee and leaps towards his corner. Fuse tags and he charges in. Spinning slingblade to Jiles. Harrison in. Spinning slingblade to Harrison. Jiles up- spinning slingblade again by Fuse. Harrison up. *SMACK* Roundhouse kick. Fuse to the corner and he starts hitting the turnbuckle pad while screaming.
Joe Hoffman: He’s powering up!
Benny Newell: Ah fuck. Not this again.
Harrison goes to attack. Fuse with a spinning backhand slaps the taste out of his mouth. Fuse takes Harrison by the back of his neck and tosses him out of the ring. Jiles nails him from behind with a double ax handle chop. Fuse spins around and leaps. Hurricanrana takedown sends Jiles careening across the ring. Waistlock by Fuse. Northern lights suplex sends Jiles tumbling across the ring.
Joe Hoffman: Jiles has got to tag out.
But Fuse attacks the former champion. Leg scissors to the head. Spin. TILT-A-WHIRL DDT!
Benny Newell: SON OF A BITCH! NO!
Joe Hoffman: Conor Fuse just Pwn’d Cancer Jiles but can he put him away?
Joe Hoffman: Come on!
Reynolds-Kael again ignores the action and shows off the world title belt to Dan Ryan. Ryan looks like he’s ready to kill him and yells at Sutler to turn around.
Jiles eventually kicks out and tries to crawl towards the corner. Fuse pulls him back. Harrison intervenes and boots Fuse in the face. Jiles gets back to his corner and once Harrison returns tags out to him. This time, Sutler turns and responds.
Joe Hoffman: And now Sutler pays attention?
Benny Newell: He’s doing a great job Joe. Great job!
Harrison in and goes right to work. Waistlock from behind. Belly to back suplex to Fuse. Dragon suplex to Conor. Another belly to back suplex. Cover.
Joe Hoffman: Conor kicks out of another fast count. He’s got to tag out!
Fuse desperately tries to get to his corner. Ryan reaches out as far as he can reach. Harrison dives to stop him. Fuse literally ‘swims’ to his corner.
Hot tag to Dan Ryan.
Joe Hoffman: Ryan’s back in!
Benny Newell: SWEEP THE LEE-DAMN LEG!
Ryan tackles Harrison and starts throwing lefts and rights. Roll up.
ONE…kick out by Harrison.
Joe Hoffman: VERY slow count there by Sutler Reynolds-Kael.
Benny Newell: Bullshit. He’s calling it right down-
Joe Hoffman: HARRISON SWEEPS THE LEG!
Ryan’s down. He’s holding his knee.
Benny Newell: I TOLD YOU HE NEEDED TO SWEEP THE FUCKING LEG!
Harrison takes the left leg and spins around yanking the leg to him. Harrison sticks his knee against Ryan’s back and bends Ryan’s leg to a severe angle putting a tremendous amount of pressure to the knee.
Joe Hoffman: SINGLE LEG CRAB!
Ryan pounds the mat with his fists as pain courses through his body.
Joe Hoffman: Harrison has it cinched in good and Dan Ryan is in big, big trouble here.
Conor Fuse is up on the corner turnbuckle, debating on what he should do.
Sutler hovers over Ryan and watching for any sign of a tap out.
Desperately, Ryan tries to use what strength he has left to move himself towards the ropes. He inches forward using his hands and arms. Harrison pulls back harder sending more pain radiating through his body.
Fuse also inches closer to climbing into the ring.
Benny Newell: CALL IT SUTLER! CALL IT!
Finally Fuse moves. Over the top rope towards Ryan. Sutler sees him and stops him right there. Jiles also comes over. Sutler moves clear. COOLYMPIAN YOLJK! Eyes blinded by eye yolk, Fuse stumbles back two steps. TERMINAL CANCER! Jiles well-placed superkick connects on the button and Fuse falls through the ropes to the floor.
Sutler turns back to the situation. Ryan’s not moving now.
Joe Hoffman: He’s passed out.
But Harrison keeps the pressure on.
Sutler takes Ryan’s arm and raises it. It falls right back down. He doesn’t bother raising the arm again and calls for the bell.
Benny Newell: YESSSSSSSSSS!
Joe Hoffman: That’s it. We have new tag team champions!
Bryan McVay: Your winners and NEW! HOW TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS OF THE WOOOOOORLD! THE MIRACLE MAN! STEVE! HAAAAAARRRRIIIISSSSOOOOOON! AND COOL! CANCER! JILES!
Sutler hands Jiles both of the tag team belts and once done with the ceremonial part of his special referee duties, the HOW champion immediately makes a hasty exit the ring area and heads to the back.
Joe Hoffman: Harrison and Jiles have regained the tag titles and… what’s Harrison doing?
Benny Newell: I don’t give a fuck what he’s doing. The tag belts are back home where they belong!
Harrison keeps the single crab hold on with no sign of letting up.
Joe Hoffman: What the hell? It’s over! Release the hold already!
But Harrison keeps the pressure on.
Benny Newell: Payback baby! He tried to end Jatt Starr’s career at War Games. Steve Harrison is going to put an end to Dan Ryan’s career tonight.
Joe Hoffman: WAIT A MINUTE!
Zeb Martin and Darin Zion both come flying out from the back and race down the aisle with chairs ready to wield.
Joe Hoffman: Finally, here comes help.
Zeb slides into the ring. *WHAP* Martin piefaces Jiles and sends him flying to the mat. *WHAP* Chairshot to the back by Zion. Harrison releases the hold and tips over to his side. But Zeb doesn’t see…
Joe Hoffman: THE BEST ALLIANCE!
Steve Solex stands over Martin holding a chair he’s just used and watches as the Watson Mill Kid drops to the mat. Jace Parker Davidson looks down at Zion having done the same thing.
Jiles, Solex and JPD all take turns stomping Zeb and then roll both men out of the ring.
Joe Hoffman: The Best Alliance is here and they just wiped out Zeb Martin and Darin Zion. They’re both down.
Conor Fuse is just stirring on the floor- a fact noticed by Jiles, Solex, and JPD. They hop down, drag Fuse up, and slam him into the ring post.
Joe Hoffman: Fuse is down again!
Harrison calls for a chair.
Joe Hoffman: Oh no. What is he doing?
Benny Newell: Payback Hoffhole. Payback.
A chair is thrown in to Harrison. Ryan’s leg is then placed in the opening between the back of the chair and the seat with the knee as the target.
Joe Hoffman: Oh no. No-no-no. They’re going to do the same thing to Dan Ryan’s knee that Ryan did to Jatt Starr’s neck.
Benny Newell: FINISH HIM! DO IT FOR JATT!
Harrison to the top turnbuckle.
Joe Hoffman: No!
Harrison leaps and lands flush on the chair.
Joe Hoffman: Oh my god.
Benny Newell: YESSSSSSSS! I sure hope those fucking 23839823893 daughters of Dan are watching this tonight. I know Jatt Starr was.
The crowd is also stunned by the sickening pop heard through the arena.
Joe Hoffman: Where’s Teddy Palmer… again? Where’s the rest of 214?
Benny Newell: Where are they? They’re gone. Lindsay Troy? Gone. Ray McAvay? Gone. Arthur Pleasant? Crawled back under the rock he came from… gone. Xander Azula? Probably fucking around in some alternative universe somewhere. And Teddy Palmer? Drowning in his sorrows after John Sektor beat his ass for the LSD title.
Benny hoists a celebratory shot of Jack…
Benny Newell: Joe, the Best Alliance holds every ounce of fucking gold in High Octane Wrestling now.
…and downs the shot.
Benny Newell: Stick a fork in fucking Grappler’s whatever. It’s over. They are toast. They’re dead.
Joe Hoffman: Unfortunately, you may be right Benny.
The show ends with the victorious Best Alliance exiting the ring and making their way to the back as HOW medics rush down to attend to an unconscious Dan Ryan, still in the ring and still not moving as Refueled comes to an end.