Refueled LXXII

The High Octane Television logo gives way and instead of cutting directly into The Best Area for the start of Refueled, a document is shown on the screen.

There is no audio present as the viewers at home, and the thousands in attendance, all begin reading.

The video slowly fades to black and we cut live inside a silent arena where the crowd, and the viewers at home, are unsure of what everything they just viewed means.

HALLLLLLELUJAH!

HALLLLLLELUJAH!

HALLELUJAH! HALLELUJAH! HALLEEEEEEEELUJAH!

AsHanzel und Gretyl’s “HELLAlujah” booms over the speaker system of the Best Arena, there is a roar from the Chicago crowd for the arrival of the Son of God himself, Michael Lee Best. After seeing the first hints of the signed contract between Michael and his father Lee at the top of tonight’s show, curiosities are flaring as the Hall of Famer and apparent number one contender steps slowly out onto the stage, making his way toward the ramp.

The fancy selfie suits and gaudy attire is gone, replaced by standard wrestling trunks and a plain gray t-shirt emblazoned with the words “KING SHIT”. He stares out into the crowd as he bobs his head to the sweet jams of his own entrance music. Michael approaches the apron, rolling under the bottom rope and standing to his feet in the ring. He quietly takes a microphone from Hall of Fame ring announcer Bryan McVay, pacing around the center of the ring as he looks for his first words for the evening.

Mike Best: It feels good to be back!

As always, the Best family gets their most positive reactions in Chicago, and tonight is no different. The rabid crowd is damned near deafening for a man who has not regularly been on High Octane Television in several months.

Mike Best: And make no mistake, I am BACK. No more part time status. No more ten second fights in the octagon. No more wasting away on my couch while this next generation of gazelles get fat and comfortable knowing that the lion is safely locked away in his cage. The King of the High Octane Jungle is here to reclaim his throne, and everything that the light touches belongs to ME.

Another big ovation from the crowd. He gestures intentionally to the giant lion plastered across his new HOW ring gear, because this lion thing is happening so you’d all probably better get used to it.

Mike Best: See, there’s a lot of guys in the back right now who have been on the easy road to glory. Prey who have deluded themselves into thinking that they’re the predator. Pawns who have never had to come face to face with their King. But Daddy is home, ladies and gentlemen, and the free ride is fucking OVER. Six months ago, I sold my soul. I signed on a dotted line and agreed to never compete in this ring again. Banished myself to a cage, because I thought I had nothing left to accomplish. I didn’t know that when I sold my soul, that with it would go my passion. My happiness. My motivation and my drive and my love for wrestling. And the more it gnawed away at me, the more I knew I had to find a way out. That I had to escape that chain link prison and find myself again. At March to Glory, I sold my soul.

He lowers his head, staring at the canvas as though he’s ashamed of himself. The regret in his voice isn’t for the benefit of the audience. It sounds genuine.

Mike Best: At Bottomline, I bought it back. And all it cost me was a knee.

As he says the words, his eyes snap up toward the hard camera like a real predator. The uncertainty in his voice fades, and his eyes glaze over as a smirk falls over his lips.

Mike Best: One knee, to validate a 970000 page Contract that would change High Octane Wrestling forever. You’ll find out a lot more about that contract you saw just a few moments ago, over the coming weeks and months, but for now, let me tell you what it means TODAY. What it means TODAY is that as of last Saturday night, I have been fully reinstated to the High Octane roster on a LIFETIME FUCKING CONTRACT.

Huge fucking pop.

Mike Best: What it means TODAY is that I have jumped back into the pool, and I’m going straight for the deep need. What it means TODAY is that I am the officially recognized number one contender. What it means TODAY is that at Rumble at the Rock, you will see Michael Lee Best go one on one for the HOW WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP.

BIGGER fucking pop.

Mike Best: I have won nine HOW World Championships over nearly a dozen years in High Octane Wrestling. I want number ten, Conor Fuse, so I hope you’re ready for me. I hope you’re ready for the match of your life. I hope you’re ready to find out that I do a hell of a lot more in this ring than throw a knee and collect a paycheck. Because at Bottomline, you face the undisputed King of H…O…W…

He leans over the ropes, this time staring back at the HOV and by proxy, into the locker room at the back. There are equal parts excitement and ferocity in his final words, as he opens his mouth to speak them.

Mike Best: Get ready to step into the lion’s den.

Mic drop. The Hall of Famer tosses the microphone aside and rolls out of the ring, headed back up toward the backstage area as we hit an unscheduled commercial break before tonight’s opening match.

Back live after our impromptu first commercial break and the camera starts to pan around as we catch a couple signs in the crowd before we finally cut down to Joe and Benny at ringside.

I BOUGHT THIS SIGN AT REESEMART

DRINK, DRANK, SCOTTY

BOBBY KNEEDS TO BE BESTED

JPD GONNA CRASH IN DAYTONA

NEVER FUCKING FORGET

Joe Hoffman: What a way to kick off the Rumble at the Rock period folks. Still no medical update on Lee Best but its clear as day that the Father and Son signed a very LARGE contract at Bottomline and still no one is quite sure what that means for the future of this company.

Benny Newell: It is the Best of both worlds Joe. Either way…..this company is in the hand’s of a Best….or no one at all.  Like that damn alcoholic Scottywood and his minor stake.

Joe Hoffman: I am sure we will find out more regarding that as time passes… Scottywood is one of the handful that has been locked away at Alcatraz since Bottom Line. He and the others were released yesterday as they traveled to Chicago for some matches tonight. Including the opening contest of Scottywood versus QT Reese.

Benny Newell: The owner of the insanely popular REESEMART Joe!

“DOMINO DANCING” by Pet Shop Boys hits as a mix of boos and cheers come from the rowdy Best Alliance faithful as we see QT Reese make his way out onto the stage.

Bryan McVay: The following match is scheduled for one fall, making his way to the ring from Corner Brook, Newfoundland, Canada and weighing in at 153 pounds… QT REESE!

Joe Hoffman: QT giving up over a hundred pounds and some nine inches to Scottywood in this match.

Benny Newell: And QT is also fifteen years younger than that old bag of bones, Scottywood.

QT makes it to the ring as he is about to slide in, but his entrance is cut off…

OOOOOOOHHHHHH, I’M BACK FROM THE DEAD!!

Scottywood emerges from the back with his anarchy goalie mask on and dressed in a #11 Mark Messier jersey as he raises his barbed wire hockey stick in the air. He lowers the stick and removes the goalie mask, revealing a healed jaw, free from any wires. Tossing the mask to the side, he has a production assistant come over and hand him a microphone on the stage.

Benny Newell: At least he isn’t gonna wrestle in that fucking mask. But just come to the ring and fucking fight.

Joe Hoffman: It’s good to see the wires are gone from Scotty’s jaw, I heard he just got them removed Friday when he was released from Alcatraz.

Scottywood: Sorry Bryan, but we have a change to tonight’s match, it will now be contested under hardcore rules!!

Benny Newell: He tells us… and especially Resse now? QT has a whole store of weapons he could have brought to this match.

Joe Hoffman: Somehow I think that was the point…

Boettcher starts washing his hands out as he leans over to McVay and tells him something.

Bryan McVay: I am being told that Matt Boettcher has been informed by management that this match MUST be contested under normal rules.

Scottywood: Management? I am the fucking management you son of a….

Scotty’s mic cuts out as he taps it a few times before slamming it onto the steel ramp. He takes his hockey stick and slams the the guardrails as he makes his way into the ring. Boettcher quickly tells Scotty to put the stick down and leave it outside and The Hardcore Artist continues to argue, wanting to know who from “management” made this ruling.

Benny Newell: T him up Boettcher, send his ass to the box!

Joe Hoffman: Seems like Scottywood is finally accepting he will not be able to use his hockey stick here tonight as he places it outside the ring and we are ready to go.

Boettcher calls for the bell as QT quickly just drops down back first to the mat.

Joe Hoffman: What is this?

Benny Newell: The pure aura of Scottywood has floored Reese, pin him Scotty!!

Looking down at Reese, Scotty just shakes his head as he takes his boot and starts stomping it away at the body of Reese.

Joe Hoffman: Scotty not taking the bait of Reese and he now has the upper hand here in this match.

Benny Newell: I really thought he’s be dumb enough to try. Wanted to see Reese roll him up for a five second win.

Scotty pulls QT to this feet and whips him hard into the corner, nearly breaking the smaller Reese in half as he charges and drives his shoulder hard into the gut of QT. He grabs him by the throat and chokes him against the turnbuckles for a four count before pulling him out into the middle of the ring and chokeslamming him straight to the mat.

Joe Hoffman: Scottyslam and a cover…

ONE…..

TWO………..

THREE….

Reese throws the shoulder up as Scotty is in some shock before he pulls Reese to his feet but Reese counters with a shot to the kidneys of Scotty. Spinning behind him, Reese grabs Scotty’s underwear and pull up hard as the crowd starts to laugh and cheer. Scotty turns around and goes for a wild clothesline, but Reese uses his speed to duck it and hit a drop toe hold as he locks in a crossface. Reese barely gets it locked in, but Scotty uses his strength to just stand up with Reese on his back and turn it into a samoan drop.

Joe Hoffman: Reese is gonna have to wear Scotty down a lot more before trying a submission move like that. The Hardcore Artist able to out power Reese easily there.

Scotty drops a heavy elbow across the chest of Reese as he goes for another cover.

ONE….

TWO…….

Reese though grabs onto both of Scotty’s nipple and twists as again the crowd erupts for the somewhat dirty, but hilarious move.

Benny Newell: Reese targeting the famous pepperon…

Joe Hoffman: Please don’t finish that Benny…

Scotty gets up, rubbing both his nipples, trying to stop the pain of the titty twister, but Reese doesn’t give him time as he hits a drop kick to the back of Scottywood that sends him face first into the second turnbuckle.

Scotty is dazed as he pulls himself up to one knee, but that puts him at perfect height for Reese to easily grabs the neck and connect with a nasty DDT. Reese points to the turnbuckles as he starts to scale them.

Joe Hoffman: Reese looking for the Brown Star Press, his top rope bonzai drop to the head.

Reese scales the ropes to the top as he looks down, but Scotty quickly jumps up as goes to club Reese in the back of the head but Reese kicks backwards and nails Scotty with a stiff shot to the side of the head. Turning around Reese leaps off the top ropes with a big cross body…

Joe Hoffman: Scottywood catches him in mid air!

Using his strength he tosses Reese up onto his shoulders.

Joe Hoffman: Game Misconduct…

Benny Newell: Reversed into a DDT!

Reese plants Scotty’s head again as he scales back up the turnbuckles and quickly launches himself off with a big bonzai drop.

Joe Hoffman: Brown Star Press connects! Cover by Reese!

ONE………

TWO………………..

THREE……………………..

DING DING DING

Bryan McVay: The winner of this match…. QT REESE!!!!

The crowd starts booing as Boettcher raises the arm of QT as Scottywood, holding his jaw with his left hand grabs his barbed wire hockey stick with a look of pure anger on his face.

Joe Hoffman: Scotty not happy with the outcome here…

Benny Newell: It’s over you loser! You lost!

Back to his feet, Scotty stalks QT whose arm is let go by Boettcher as he goes to turn around towards Scotty….

THERE ARE ONLY TWO TYPES OF PEOPLE IN THIS WORLD

The roof on The Best Arena nearly explodes as the ever so familiar lyrics of Brittney Spears hits across the speakers.

Joe Hoffman: IS IT? IS SHE REALLY…. YES! IT’S BOBBINETTE CAREY!!

The Hall of Famer herself appears on the stage as Scottywood is frozen as it seems like he has seen a ghost.

Joe Hoffman: The rumors have been rampant… people have suspected she might return… and here she is!

Benny Newell: If she is here to teach this loser Scottywood a lesson, then welcome back Carey!

Carey makes her way down the ramp, high fiving fans before reaching the ring and staring down Scottywood. QT Reese meanwhile is laughing almost in Scottywood face, but The Hardcore Artist is ignoring the man that just beat him and is focused right in on The Queen B.

Joe Hoffman: Many people noticed Scotty’s jab at royalty during his Bottom Line promo from Alcatraz… and tied it to Scotty’s longtime ally and friend Bobbinette. I guess Carey also caught the jab.

Walking up the steel steps, Carey enters a HOW ring for the time in years as her eyes continue to be locked on The Hardcore Artist. Getting right up into Scottywood face, the two start jarring at each other. Carey starts shaking her head as she turns away from Scotty and appears to go to exit the ring…

Joe Hoffman: Royalty Check!!!…. TO QT REESE!!!!!

Benny Newell: What the fuck!!!!

Scotty starts laughing as he starts drilling QT Reese in the back with some shots from his barbed wire hockey stick until QT Reese is able to roll himself out of the ring.

Joe Hoffman: I should have known… Scottywood and Bobbinette Carey on the same page as the fans in The Best Arena now booing The Queen B as they hoped she was gonna take out Scottywood. But call it Ascension, call it Knights of Epicness, call it whatever you want, it’s a reunion of two Hall of Famers here on Refueled.

Benny Newell: And QT Reese attacked with that inferior weapon! A non REESEMART item! We have no idea if that has gone through the rigorous Quality Testing as official REESEMART items have! QT could have just caught some horrible disease like alcoholism from Scotty’s dirty stick!

Scotty and Carey shake hands in the middle of the ring as the Chicago fans continue to boo and “Circus” by Brittney Spears once again hits over the speakers.

Joe Hoffman: We’ll see if we can get more details on this later folks, but right now, we have

Blaire Moise backstage with another Hall of Famer, Jatt Starr.

Benny Newell: Who isn’t a Hall of Famer here in HOW Joe?

Joe Hoffman: Dicey topic Benny, best not to bring it up, take it away Blaire.

The scene cuts backstage to Blaire Moise standing inside the newest restaurant located within the Best Arena: “HOW Hall of Fame Salads” located not ten feet from one of eight Sutler Kale Sucks smoothie stands. The restaurant area has several tables and a water bar (from the menu located above the bar it boasts a wide selection of drinks….Water, Coconut Water, Water with a Lemon Wedge, Cucumber Water). Standing next to Blaire is the Mayor of ManJattan himself, Jatt Starr, sporting a red and black plaid suit with t-shirt underneath. The lettering is obscured by the closed suit jacket.

Jatt Starr stands behind a buffet table with four covered serving platters atop a white tablecloth.

BLAIRE MOISE: Jatt Starr, at “Bottomline” you—-

JATT STARR: Yes, yes, Jatt Starr, the Enos Eradicator defeated Xanadu Something-or-other in dominant fashion, etcetera, etcetera. But tonight! Yes….tonight is about so many things, Blaire. The HOW Hall of Fame Salads, for example. “Bottomline” showcased five of our menu items, the Chico Chickpea Salad, the El Nutso, the Cecilworth Pearthington, the Ryan Faze Maize with roasted corn, and the Max Kale. Tonight, we are unveiling our newest menu items, be cause let’s face it, the fans and the talent need to eat better.

The Thane of Starrkarth looks Blaire Moise up and down.

JATT STARR: And you could probably benefit from eating more salads yourself. So, please allow me to introduce…..

The King of Jatten Island removes the lid from the first salad revealing, shockingly…..a salad. Shredded daikon, cucumber ribbons, and carrots with a sesame-soy vinaigrette.

JATT STARR: I call this the closest thing Darin Zion will get to the HOW Hall of Fame – The Darin Zion-Daikon Salad. Next we have….

The Sovereign of Starrgentina removes the lid from the second serving platter revealing another salad. This one contains some jalapeno slices, crushed pecans, and dandelion greens topped with a drizzle of olive oil.

JATT STARR: The JPD, of course. You get your choice between extra virgin olive oil and balsamic vinaigrette. And next…..

The third lid is removed containing, yes, a salad – a salad with broccoli rabe, carrot, tomatoes, a little lemon zest with a lemon-coriander vinaigrette.

JATT STARR: The Broccoli Rabe-binette Carey-ander. As you can tell, as Liaison of Health and Nutrition, I am taking steps in replacing the empty calories and toxifying effects of beer and replacing it with kale smoothies and removing the poisonous preservatives of nacho cheese and whatever the hell is in hot dogs and providing a healthier alternative. This business serves a purpose, it has a higher calling, to get these fat slobs into shape. I have marketed the hell out of these establishments! You don’t get to be Steve Harrison’s best friend without picking up a couple of pointers about marketing. Sutler Kale Sucks and the HOW Hall of Fame Salad should be the official sponsors of “Rumble at the Rock”, not this “ReeseMart”. What is that about anyway? What do they sell, Anton? Pieces? Peanut Butter Cups? Wither Spoons?

ANTON (off camera): Fuck if I know!

JATT STARR: Clearly, Lee was not in his right mind or he was blind as a freaking bat and had no idea what he was signing.

BLAIRE MOISE: That seems like something that you would need to address with Lee—

JATT STARR: The Ruler of Jattlantis knows that! I haven’t seen him since “Bottomline”. You think I haven’t texted him? I have a lot of “somethings” to address with him! Do you think for a second he would have had one ounce of fucking courtesy and given his most loyal soldier a heads up that the Best Alliance has been dissolved?! Huh? What happens to the Earl of GlouStarr now, huh? What the hell am I supposed to do????

BLAIRE MOISE: Well—

WABID WABBIT (off camera): What’s unduh the othuh wid???

The Grand Overlord of Jatturn, his red, furious, pained face looks towards the Wabid Wabbit and then down at the final serving platter, much larger than the others, then looks up, attempting to shoo away the negative energy. So he smiles, and tries to exude as much positivity as he can, even if it is phony.

JATT STARR: Ah, yes! Of course! We must maintain a positive attitude! So prepare for the piece-they-resistance! Conor Fuse defeating Sutler Kael was very significant. WABBIT!!!

The Wabid Wabbit enters the frame and Jatt Starr removes his suit jacket and hands it to the Wabbit, revealing the t-shirt reading “Jatt Starr: 2, Connor Fuse: 0”. The Duke of Jattmandu snaps and the Wabid Wabbit removes the lid revealing a pile of t-shirts. The same t-shirt Jatt Starr is sporting.

JATT STARR: Yes, it is now official, the Ruler of Jattlantis is officially the only person in the HOW who is truly Undefeated against Conor Fuse. And these t-shirts, a limited edition of one hundred will be given away to the first ten customers to dine here at HOW Hall of Fame Salads! The largest size is an XL, so no fatties. These are for those committed to healthy eating.

BLAIRE MOISE: Speaking of Conor Fuse, what are your thoughts on Mike Best’s assault on Conor Fuse at “Bottomline”?

JATT STARR: Honestly, it bothers the Duke of Jattmandu. I thought Mike Best was perfectly content with his little HOFC thing, but apparently not, as they are doing away with it. And yes, it sickens me to no end that he brutally assaulted Lee Best. This whole fucking contract mularkey….

The Ruler of Jattlantis takes a deep breath and exhales, he does this not once, not twice, but thrice and smiles. Positivity.

JATT STARR: But hey, if I were to give any advice for Conor Fuse, it’s this, heavy is the crown and a diet of Hi-C, Pixie Stix, and Cheetos does not a champion make. Add to that his addiction to video games is no different than an addiction to heroin, alcohol, or gambling? He’s pretty much screwed.

BLAIRE MOISE: So—-

JATT STARR: But nothing is set in stone, right? Things can change. He might not even be the champion going into “Rumble at the Rock”, right? It’s not “ReeseMart” sponsoring “Rumble at the Rock”, apparently. I would have gladly had “Sutler Kale Sucks” or this fine, elegant, superb establishment sponsor “Rumble at the Rock”, but I wasn’t asked, my opinion means nothing after years of loyalty…..so you know….It’s just another example of the Baron of Boca Jatton being overlooked and underestimated, right? But it’s fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine!

The Starrcelona Icon face tightens up and forces a smile and proceeds to talk through his clenched teeth.

JATT STARR: It’s fine. It’s perfectly fine I wish them nothing but the best. Nothing like friendly competition….everything happens for a reason, doesn’t it?

The Baron of Boca Jatton’s force smiles slowly dissipates and he zones out. He turns and begins doing…..

BLAIRE MOISE: What are you doing?

JATT STARR: Lunges.

The Jattvian Prince continues to do lunges behind the table. This body lowers and then comes back up….it lowers….and comes back up….

BLAIRE MOISE: Why?

JATT STARR: Healthy body, healthy mind.

BLAIRE MOISE: Can you please stop?

JATT STARR: Of course.

The Sultan of SeaJattle obliges and ceases the lunges.

JATT STARR: What was I saying?

BLAIRE MOISE: Nothing is set in stone?

JATT STARR: Right! Look, does it seem like that greedy shit Mike Best, has his sights set on the HOW Championship, an opportunity that some people could say should be mine considering how I am undefeated against Conor Fuse….so much so, one could consider him the new Darkwing….or, a Duckling, perhaps? The fact, is—-

Blaire Moise brings her free hand to her ear as if she is listening to one of the producers and holds up one finger with the hand holding the microphone. Jatt Starr looks confused.

JATT STARR: What? Are you shushing me? You don’t shush me!

Blaire Moise immediately turns to the camera.

BLAIRE MOISE: I have just received word that the new HOW Champion, Conor Fuse is ready to address the HOW and the fans. We’re taking you there now.

Jatt Starr, shocked then angry, turns towards the camera and then towards Blaire Moise, he then begins reaching for the microphone and then turns back to the camera.

JATT STARR: Wait! What? Don’t you dare cut me—-

The scene immediately shifts back to ringside where Conor Fuse is about to make his first appearance as the HOW Champion.

The scene switches to ringside and Bryan McVay inside the squared circle.

Bryan McVay: Ladies and gentleman, introducing the NEEEEEEEEWWWWW High Octane World Champion… ‘THE VINTAGE’ CONOR FUUUUUUUUUUUSSSSSEEEEE!

“Bloody Tears (Epic Version)” from Castlevania II plays. Red sparklers shoot from the rampway as tiny blue, green and 97red rupees fall from the rafters. Conor Fuse emerges on a lift underneath the stage, sporting a new SNES red trench coat with the World Championship around his waist which peers out from the unzipped jacket. The fans cheer for the man who put Sutler Reynolds-Kael down at Bottomline, although there is SOME overall tension given the top of the show announcement. Conor raises his hands as red pyro explodes behind him.

Benny Newell: We’re going to hear from this guy right now? Jesus Fucking Christ.

Joe Hoffman: It’s gonna be a long night for you, isn’t it?

!RANK
!RANK
!RANK

Conor approaches the ring, removes his trench coat and leaps onto the apron. With the belt still around his waist, Conor flawlessly clears the top rope as well, landing perfectly in the center of the canvas. Fuse smiles at Bryan McVay, takes a microphone and turns to address the crowd as his theme song ends.

Conor Fuse: It really is Re-FUSED now, isn’t it! Thank you gamers and gamettes for that welcome… WE have done it!

Fuse snaps the title off his waist and raises it to a cheer.

Conor Fuse: I’ve been through ups and downs in the land of High Octane but at Bottomline, I fucking brought it to Sutler if I do say so myself. I’ve been ridiculed, laughed at, abandoned, kneed in the temple… you name it, it’s happened. But when push came to shove I laced up my big player boots, I looked that punkass kid in the eyes and I caved his skull in. I caved it good.

The fans cheer again. Some begin another !RANK chant.

Conor Fuse: THE GAME BOY did not join me at ringside, no friends were in my corner because… they all quit. No. I was left with nobody and no one.

Fuse points a finger in the air as if to add a surprising thought.

Conor Fuse: However, I will give Sutler one kudos. He left his goons in the back, too. One-on-one. Conor Fuse, the video game manchild against the real pussy manchild, SRK. We went back-and-forth in a hellacious battle until I climbed the top rope and hit Sutler with the Super Splash 450. ONE, TWO, THREE!

The Vintage says in a matter-of-fact tone.

Joe Hoffman: [Slowly becoming confused] Hmm… that’s… not exactly how Conor won the match…

Benny Newell: Who fucking cares. DRINK!

The champion paces the ring, collecting his thoughts in a much calmer manner.

Conor Fuse: I avenged War Games, the pain of having the championship stripped from me by a referee decision. And I did something many have only dreamt of accomplishing. I am the WORLD Heavyweight Champion.

Another cheer and !RANK chant.

Conor Fuse: So what’s next? That’s it, right? Conor Fuse beats High Octane!

The Vintage pauses and looks into the bleachers.

Conor Fuse: Well, we all know this Game is far from over. I don’t have the full context yet but my discord has been POPPING off about the top of the show announcement. It’s very daunting. Alcatraz has haunted my dreams for a while.

Fuse tries to pump himself up thinking about what lies ahead. He seems unsure.

Conor Fuse: Although Rumble at the Rock is still a month away, I HEAR the voices rumbling backstage. I HEAR the echoes bouncing off Lee Best’s cold brick walls. I SEE the hidden comments on social media. BOTS and Bosses of all shapes and sizes, all mental capacities, starting to line themselves up thinking ‘NOW is the time to strike! What a perfect opportunity for me! The world title picture has never been more wide open before because the highest prize in all of wrestling is held by’… me.

Fuse walks to a corner of the ring and rests on the padding. He takes a moment to collect his breath.

Conor Fuse: I want to remind everybody that in ONE year’s time I jumped into this Game and I went through level-by-level. Setbacks, some things perhaps I should be embarrassed of. But like any REAL gamer, I found a way, studied the manuals and worked my ass off day in and day out… until it paid off.

Conor holds 97red in the air once more.

Conor Fuse: In record time, too. So this is a statement to anyone in the back: if you think you can simply walk into the ring and take the World Championship from me…

The champion groans.

Conor Fuse: Get bent. Cancer Jiles thought I’d be an easy stepping stone. Nobody in War Games picked Conor Fuse to last until the end. The Kael family figured Sutler had BETTER things to do with his time than worry about The Ultimate Gamer.

Fuse curls his free hand into a ball.

Conor Fuse: DO I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION NOW, SUTLER? DO I!? Conor Fuse is the High Octane World Champion. The Vintage beat you. 8-4 NO MORE, SUT. I am the Final Boss, I am the Fucking Hero. You can wear white to the ring but you didn’t leave that colour did you, my friend?

Conor motions to the crowd.

Conor Fuse: And to each and everyone of you, yes, I have a new edge. It’s a levelling-up I had to do in order to win the 97-ticket. Every fan here has supported me from the beginning and I will not turn my back on any of you. EVEN if you cheer for a… amen… knee to my temple.

Conor smirks into the camera.

Conor Fuse: Can I make it to Rumble at the Rock? BOTS, Bosses, JAGs with cheat codes, you can line yourselves up if you please but I make the rules until we are imprisoned. I owe none of you “challengers” a thing. And as for you SRK, I’ll await your RAGEQUIT notice. I told you so. You love to see it.

Cheers follow the idea of Sutler quitting HOW.

Conor Fuse: The Vintage has two new titles to bestow upon himself. I am now the High Octane Champion but I am also The Last Level Legend. Care to play against me?

Fuse looks to exit the ring but pulls back for one last comment in a very subdued, serious tone.

Conor Fuse: Oh welcome home, Son of God. I will not shy away. This world has four corners, not eight. My name is Conor Fuse; I am the World Heavyweight Champion. And I will be your greatest challenge yet.

Fuse winks into the camera, drops the mic and rolls out of the ring.

Benny Newell: I fucking hate my life. Where’s Mike? Can we get this shit done now?

Joe Hoffman: Why don’t you have another drink there, partner.

The champion walks up the ramp acknowledging the fans as Re-FUSED goes to commercial.

World Championship Match
Michael Lee Best vs. World Champion (Currently: Conor Fuse©)

7even Deadly Sins Match
Brian Hollywood vs. Eli Dresden vs. Doozer vs. Steve Solex vs. Jeffery James Roberts vs. Scottywood vs. Bobby Dean

Joe Hoffman: And in our next bout we’re getting a look at another newcomer here to High Octane.

Benny Newell: Lee signed in an actual killer before Bottomline! This man stacks bodies! I watched an interview with him once on A&E.

Bryan McVay: Currently just released from Alcatraz Prison, standing 6’3” tall and weighing in at 230 pounds, Jeffrey James Roberts!

“Goldberg Variations” by Johann Sebastian Bach begins playing through the arena and four armed EPU members step out from the back and stand in a square. Jeffrey James Roberts steps in between the men and they begin their march to the ring. Roberts tries to stop and speak with a fan, but is instead prodded along. He enters the ring and stares up at the ramp. The four armed men take up positions along the rail on the outside of the ring.

“Happy Song” by Bring Me The Horizon blasts over the PA System as Darin Zion, who is wearing a black leather jacket, comes down to the ring accompanied by Meredith.

Bryan McVay: From Crown Point, Indiana; weighing in at 220 Pounds; please welcome DAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRIN ZIIIIIIION.

Benny Newell: This idiot is dead. Jace almost killed him at Bottomline, wait till you see what an actual murderer does!

Joe Hoffman: I never thought we’d see the day a convicted murderer would be wrestling a match in High Octane Wrestling.

Benny Newell: We’ve had plenty of murderers Joe…

Joe Hoffman: Convicted Joe, convicted…

As Zion heads down the ramp he slaps hands with the fans. Zion climbs the turnbuckle and sticks his hands out as we reach the chorus of the song. He flips off the turnbuckle pad and hands the referee his jacket. Zion shakes his head, mentally preparing for his upcoming match.

Hortega checks Jeffrey James Roberts for illegal weapons, taking precautions not to get too close to him. Finally satisfied, Hortega calls for the bell.

DING DING DING

Zion tries to start off the contest slowly, beginning to circle Roberts. But the murderer from Gainesville, Florida has a different plan and runs in and delivering a low drop kick to Zion’s knee. Roberts rolls to his feet and grabs Zion by the previously injured right knee. He holds it steady and delivers a knee drop to it. Zion screams out, grabbing his right leg.

Benny Newell: Ain’t delivering no Banhammer with a bum knee! HA!

Joe Hoffman: Roberts sure is quick for being such a large competitor.

Roberts slides to the outside and hops over the rope looking to deliver a slingshot knee drop to the side of Zion’s knee. Zion rolls through and manages to get to his feet. Roberts comes back at Zion quickly, and Zion ducks under a clothesline attempt. Roberts hits the ropes and comes back. Zion grabs him around the waist sliding behind and going for a german suplex. Roberts, sticks his leg between Zion’s to stop the lift, and then slides behind him reversing the predicament. Zion doesn’t let Roberts get the better of him though, and slides his injured knee behind Roberts’ leg and delivers a thunderous Russian Leg Sweep.

Benny Newell: As dumb as Zion looks you can’t get cute in there with him.

Joe Hoffman: Did you just compliment Zion?

Benny Newell: DRINK!

Zion and Roberts get to their feet at the same time, with Zion still nursing his right knee. Roberts charges in delivering a right hand, Zion responds in kind and the two stand in the middle of the ring trading right hands. Finally, Roberts generates some separation with a thunderous elbow strike. Zion stumbles away and Roberts fires off a Superkick, sending Zion into the ropes. Zion comes back off the ropes and takes a swing with his Discus Clothesline.

Joe Hoffman: Banhammer!

Roberts ducks under the clothesline and goes to the ropes. Zion continues his momentum and hits the far ropes and the two collide in the middle with Roberts taking advantage of Zion’s right knee again with a low dropkick. Roberts slides to the outside, dragging Zion with him. He smashes the knee off the edge of the ring apron a few times and drags him to the ring post.

Joel Hortega: Uno!

Joel Hortega: Dos!

JJR smashes Zion’s knee across the ring post. Zion rolls away to the middle of the ring holding his knee. Roberts turns towards the crowd, but is met by an EPU member with a taser pointing back to the ring.

Joel Hortega: Tres!

Joel Hortega: Cuatro!

Benny Newell: HA! He’s gonna cripple him!

Joe Hoffman: Roberts is working that knee over like he wants to take it home with him.

Benny Newell: He might actually want to do that Joe…

Roberts rolls back into the ring, while Zion continues holding his knee. JJR rushes over to Zion but gets caught by Zion playing possum. Zion rolls him up with a small package for a pinfall.

Joel Hortega: Uno!

Joel Hortega: Dos!

Roberts reverses the small package and rolls on top of Zion.

Joel Hortega: Uno!

Joel Hortega: Dos!

Zion kicks out. JJR turned to argue but thought better of it as Zion is already on his feet. Zion delivers a kick to Roberts’ stomach, stunning him momentarily, Roberts hunches over and Zion goes for a limping, running knee. Roberts blocks and catches Zion’s leg. Zion fires off an enzuguri kicking Roberts in the side of the head. Roberts stumbles for a second and Zion helps him to the mat with a Snap DDT.

Joe Hoffman: What a DDT by Zion! I’m sure somewhere our world champion is cheering for his friend.

Benny Newell: We don’t talk about the video game boy. Mike Best is going to kill him anyway! You saw the contract!

Zion is back to his feet quickly, still nursing the knee. He grabs Roberts around the midsection and lifts him up by his waist. Holding Roberts’ dead weight Zion stumbles momentarily, but repositions and drops Roberts’ on his head. Zion goes for a pin attempt.

Joel Hortega: Uno!

Joel Hortega: Dos!

…

Joe Hoffman: What a kick out at the last second by Roberts!

Benny Newell: Thank LEE, we’d never hear the end of it if Zion actually won a match again.

Joe Hoffman: Don’t speak too soon Benny, Zion’s in the corner yelling for Roberts to get to his feet.

Zion had wasted no time springing to his feet and waiting for Roberts. Roberts gets to his feet wobbly, and Zion comes roaring across the ring winding up for another Discus Lariat. Right before Zion takes the swing, Roberts drops to the ground and rolls out of the ring.

Benny Newell: That interview they said this guy was smart! Way to get out of the way!

Joe Hoffman: Brilliant counter by Roberts here, and he can regroup for a minute on the outside.

Benny Newell: Take your time Roberts!

Having finally regained his senses Roberts rolls back into the ring under the protection of Joel Hortega. Zion rushes Roberts trying to gain the advantage, but Roberts throws a straight kick to the top of Zion’s knee sending him back three steps. Roberts leaps to the top rope and comes off with a missile drop kick to Zion.

Roberts doesn’t waste any time and pulls Zion up to his feet, delivering a brainbuster driver, leaving Zion lifeless in the corner. Roberts springs to his feet and scales the ropes, leaping off for a shooting star press to the downed Zion. His knee comes down smashing Zion’s upper chest and neck. He leaves the knee there and hooks both of Zion’s legs. He maintains the pressure on Zion’s neck while Hortega dives in to count.

Joel Hortega: Uno!

Joel Hortega: Dos!

Joel Hortega: Tres!

Benny Newell: Kill the little weasel! Murder him! The Best Alliance is gone, I need something to make my night better besides whiskey and hookers!

Joe Hoffman: We need these armed guards to get in there and pull Roberts’ off of him!

The EPU begin rushing towards the ring and as they slide into the ring we see Roberts lean forward and begin biting at the face of Zion.

Benny Newell: HOLY BATH SALTS BATMAN!!!!!!!????

The EPU tackle Roberts off of Zion and as they force him off the man we see a chunk of Zion’s cheek is still in the mouth of Roberts.  The convicted killer smiles before spitting the flesh back into the face of Zion who can be seen holding his face and screaming out in paid.

HOW medics rush into the ring as blood gushes thru the fingers of Zion.

The feed cuts to another impromptu commercial break as chaos reigns supreme inside the ring.

Back live and the cameras shift to the loading dock at the PPG Paints Arena. Outside Brian Bare is smoking a cigarette waiting for someone. Clay Byrd emerges carrying his #97RED gear bag, and wearing a Best Alliance jumpsuit. The Behemoth walks past Bare as he goes to walk into the building.

Brian Bare: Clay! Clay! Can we get a word?

Clay ignores the man and begins talking to the EPU men at the door to the arena. Bare rushes over a bit frustrated.

Brian Bare: Listen Clay, Lee just ended The Best Alliance to kick off the show, we gotta try to interview you guys tonight…

The Monster from Plainviews eyes come to life as he looks at Bare.

Clay Byrd: Whaddya mean he ended The Alliance?

A snarl began to creep across Clay’s face as he looked Bare up and down.

Brian Bare: Well he ended it at Bottomline apparently but we just found out today when they aired the contract he had Michael Best sign at Bottomline.

Clay Byrd: So… yer sayin’ I ain’t got a job anymore?

Brian Bare: No… I’m sure you’re still a wrestler or something but I mean, the preferential treatment, the absurd salary, the undeserved title shots rolling in after every loss, especially after tapping out at the last second…

Bare realizes he’s made a colossal mistake and begins backing away from The Behemoth and towards the safety of Pittsburgh’s Fifth Avenue. Clay holds his head in his hands for a moment, briefly wincing in pain. After a moment Clay lunges for Bare who drops the microphone, turning tail and running into the night. The Monster from Plainview turns, deciding not to give chase. Clay makes a beeline to the cameraman who turns and runs away. We can see the EPU members try to step in front of The Monster from Plainview, but he smashes through them. The camera man reaches the door and struggles with the handle.

*THUD*

We can hear a sickening thud of presumably the cameraman’s head smashing off the metal door. The camera drops to the side out of control to show us the loading dock, and the parking lot. As the camera comes into focus The Behemoth can be seen carrying a lifeless man in a black polo shirt over to the loading dock. He lifts the man up, and Powerbomb’s him off the edge.

Clay walks back, grabbing the camera. We can hear him muttering under his breath.

Clay Byrd: Mother fucker… lying piece of shit…

The camera goes flying as the feed fades to black.

We quickly cut to the backstage area of the arena where Blaire Moise can be seen standing with her microphone in hand. Blaire’s free hand runs through her hair making sure she looks presentable for the broadcast. Once satisfied, Blaire walks up to one of the dressing room doors. She takes a deep breath then reaches up and knocks on the door. After a moment or two the door opens and out steps the #1 ranked wrestler in HOW Jace Parker Davidson. JPD has the HOTv Championship around his waist as he looks down at Blaire who raises the microphone up to her lips.

Blaire Moise: Do you mind if I get…

Jace holds up his hand interrupting Blaire.

JPD: I already know what you want to talk about Blaire. You want to ask me about that contract that was shown earlier tonight to start the show.

Blaire nods her head up and down.

JPD: To say I’m not pleased about it would be an understatement. As far as the Best Alliance being disbanded? Well, I wasn’t there to make friends anyway. I won’t believe that Lee Best is dead for a single second.

Blaire Moise: But if he is that means Michael runs the company. Not to mention the fact he’s being granted a shot at the HOW World Championship belt at Rumble at the Rock.

JPD: Color me surprised. HOFC falls flat on its ass, so now Michael cuts the line to a shot at #97red at RATR. All that lion in it’s gilded cage bullshit. Fucking sickening. And then there is the Champion himself, Mr. Happy Go Lucky Conor Fuse. Going Karaoke singing with Zion, flaunting the belt like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Yet I’m sure Michael, Sutler, Sektor and everyone else is just chomping at the bit to get their hands on him.

Jace looks directly at the camera and extends his index finger.

JPD: However, none of them are the #1 ranked wrestler in this company. I hope you’re listening Conor, It might be RATR, It might not be until ICONIC but I will be coming for what is rightfully mine. You better hope you can depend on Zion to watch your back because your reign as Champion might not last long at all.

Blaire Moise: With all that being said, tonight in the main event you’ll be defending the HOTv Championship belt against a very game Daytona.

Jace pats the gold plate of the belt around his waist.

JPD: Regardless of the fuckery going on around here the show must go on. And I’m going to put on quite the show tonight in the main event. Nothing against Daytona but everyone needs a stern reminder of just who is the Alpha male in this company. Daytona has the potential to be one of the best females to ever step foot into HOW. Unfortunately potential doesn’t make you a Champion. If it did, you’d be interviewing Darin Zion right now about his main event title defense.

Jace takes the HOTv Championship from around his waist and raises it into the air.

JPD: This Championship belt was supposed to be a midcard title. It was supposed to be for the lower ranked superstars to fight over to give them a sense of purpose. I’ve single handedly brought prestige and notoriety to this belt. I’ve made it worthy of the main event and it’s why I’m ranked #1. Not Solex, not RAH, not Harrison, not Capone, not Dresden, not Zion, and certainly not Daytona is about to dethrone the King of Everything.

Jace places the HOTv Championship over his right shoulder.

JPD: All that fake southern charm and cockteasing isn’t going to get Daytona a win tonight. In the main event I’m going to drag her down into the deep water. I’m going to duck her head under and she better hope she can grow gills. When it’s all said and done Daytona will end up just like everyone else I’ve faced. She will Bend the Knee and acknowledge I am truly the King of absolutely Everything.

Jace smirks for the camera then heads back into his dressing room as we head into commercial break.

Joe Hoffman: Alright, folks. We’re back in business and ready to witness the next contest here tonight on Refueled!

Benny Newell: Do we have to??? I mean I still see some 97red in the ring from Zion’s blood job earlier on.

Joe Hoffman: Yes, Benny. That’s literally our job.

Benny Newell: Hopefully Carey can give Zion one of her tampons in the back. That motherfucker was GUSHING!!!

The lights go out and J. Cole’s ‘Mr. Nice Watch’ blares from the arena sound system in the pitch black. After several seconds the lights come back on and Kevin Capone is seen standing at the top of the ramp, eyes cold. His body drenched in pre-match workout sweat, accentuating the 6 inch vertical scar down Capone’s toned abdomen along with the “Scarred For Life” tattoo right above it. He stretches both arms wearing padded fighter’s gloves and cruises down the ramp in a blacked out ensemble, black boxing-style trunks several inches above the knee and short black boots.

Bryan McVay: Introducing first, and making his way down to the ring… hailing from Queens in New York City, weighing in at two hundred and forty seven pounds… KEVINNNNNNNNNN CAAAAAAAAPONNNNNNNNNNNE!

Capone stops just before the ring and does his ballistic stretches, swinging his arms performing different combinations, then hops on the apron in one swoop and pulls on the top ropes with bad intentions. Kevin Capone enters the ring between the middle and top rope and assumes his position in a corner.

Joe Hoffman: Capone looking as focused as ever here tonight as hopes to extend his hot streak, recently landing victories over Daytona at Bottomline and Doozer before that.

Benny Newell: A couple of scrubs, if ya ask me. And now he’s got another one! Here’s to hoping he chokes out every last breath from Jiles here tonight and saves us from seeing another shitty chin kick.

Joe Hoffman: Tell us how ya really feel, Benny!

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.

Bryan McVay: And his opponent, hailing from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania… weighing two hundred and twenty nine pounds… CANCERRRRRRRRR JIIIIIIIIIIIIIILESSSSSSSSSSSS!

After having his fill, Jiles confidently makes his way down to the ring and slides in under the bottom rope. Capone, unblinking, doesn’t take his eyes off his opponent. Jiles meets the gaze and blows his opponent a kiss. Capone doesn’t flinch.

Joe Hoffman: You could cut the tension with a knife, Benny. Here we go!

DING DING DING

Just as the bell rings, Cancer Jiles casually approaches Capone in the middle of the ring, holding out a hand. Capone, wanting nothing of the Bandit’s shenanigans, shakes his head.

Joe Hoffman: Smart play by Capone there. You just never know with the King of COOL.

Kevin holds his right hand up instead of out, inviting Cancer to a test of strength. Jiles, still holding his right hand out for a shake, brings his left hand up pointing to his right.

Joe Hoffman: Looks like Jiles is insisting on the show of sportsmanship before getting this match started.

Capone tilts his head while narrowing his eyes on Jiles, then brings his hand down and reaches forward to shake Cancer’s hand.Jiles smiles, then quickly throws both hands forward and pushes Capone back forcefully. Kevin stumbles backward to catch his balance just as Jiles plants a foot a throws the other up into the air.

Joe Hoffman: TERMINAL CANCER?!

As if auditioning for The Matrix Resurrections, Capone bends backwards to an impressive degree as Cancer’s boot flies over him!

Joe Hoffman: What a dodge there by Capone!

Benny Newell: How’d he do that?!

In one continuous movement, Kevin plants a hand onto the mat for support as he twists around to the side and regains balance. Jiles turns, caught off guard by the quick dodge, swinging blindly. Capone ducks under his opponent’s flailing arms and hooks a leg, hoisting Jiles up onto his shoulders-

Joe Hoffman: Capone uses Jiles’ uncontrolled momentum against him, and he’s got him up! He lifts Cancer and spins- HE HIT IT! THE SCENIC ROUTE!

Benny Newell: DRINK!

Jiles slams down face first onto the mat so hard he bounces five feet up, turning in mid air and landing on his back. Capone pounces for the cover. Referee Matt Boettcher drops for the count!

ONE…

TWO- KICKOUT!

Joe Hoffman: A real quick two count there. What a counter by Capone, almost as if he knew what the faux handshake would lead to, but it’s not enough to take out the resilient Cancer Jiles this early!

Cancer scurries to his feet, away from Capone, shaking the cobwebs out of his head. Kevin jumps and charges his opponent before Jiles can regain his composure. He grabs Cancer and whips him to a corner turnbuckle.

Joe Hoffman: Capone put a little extra into that whip! Jiles just hit the turnbuckles, front first, so hard I think it knocked the wind out of him!

Capone runs over and reaches to grab the limp Jiles from behind, but is instead greeted by a surprise elbow to the face.

Joe Hoffman: I think Jiles was just playing possum right there, Benny!

Benny Newell: That’s all the cheap fuck CAN do!

Boettcher turns toward Capone to check on the wrestler holding his face in pain, but Jiles grabs the ref and points frantically to the entrance ramp.

Joe Hoffman: What is HE doing out here, Benny?

Benny Newell: Oh no, not another loser…

Joe Hoffman: It’s Doozer!

Benny Newell: Isn’t that what I just said?

The recently released Alcatraz prisoner stands at the top of the ramp in his green jumpsuit. He just stands there, not moving a muscle, as he watches the action from a distance. Boettcher approaches the ropes closest to the ramp and shouts, waving his hands, warning Doozer not to interfere with the match. Jiles drops down to a knee and swings his right arm up between his opponent’s legs-

Joe Hoffman: OH! A nasty low blow by Cancer Jiles while Matt Boettcher was distracted.

The sound of the crowd reacting to the nut punch gets Boettcher’s attention back to the ring action. Jiles, back up on both feet before Boettcher could notice anything off, grabs the head of his bent over opponent under his left arm and drops back quickly for a snap DDT. Capone rolls over onto his back, clearly in pain.

Jiles stands over his opponent’s head pointing out to the crowd with a shit eating grin on his face. He brings both hands back to his head, slicking back his hair, then runs to the side and bounces off the ropes. He jumps over Capone and bounces off the opposite ropes. He slows down as he approaches his downed opponent, stopping at his side…

And starts to shake.

Joe Hoffman: Is that… is Cancer Jiles doing the truffle shuffle?!?!

Benny Newell: HE’S TOO SKINNY TO DO THE TRUFFLE SHUFFLE, JOE! DOES THIS DICKHEAD HAVE TO RUIN EVERYTHING?!

Jiles stops shaking and drops an elbow directly on Capone’s chest! He covers! Boettcher drops!

ONE…

TWO…

KICKOUT!

Joe Hoffman: Close fall after… well… whatever that was.

Benny Newell: Yeah but Capone looks more pissed than hurt right now. KILL ‘IM, KEVIN!

Jiles snaps at Boettcher, accusing the ref of a slow count, Capone snaps up to his feet angrily, grabs Jiles from behind, lifts and throws him backward like a rag doll. Jiles hits the mat at such a high angle he flips over, landing face first.

Joe Hoffman: Impressive show of power with that belly to back suplex by Capone!

Capone pounces onto his downed opponent, rolls him over onto his back. Boettcher starts to drop for the count, but Capone hooks Jiles and rolls over onto his own back, holding Cancer over him. Kevin quickly slips his right foot under Cancer’s chin and locks his hands behind his head.

Joe Hoffman: Capone’s got Cancer in the Quick and Painful!

Doozer, still motionless up to this point, suddenly looks concerned and begins to run down to the ring. Capone applies even more pressure on the hold, turning Jiles’ face from pale, to red, to purple almost instantly. Jiles struggles to get leverage, but Capone just pulls harder on his head, cutting off all air as he attempts to cave in Cancer’s trachea with his shin.

Boettcher leans in to check on Jiles.

Joe Hoffman: JILES TAPS! JILES TAPS! THIS ONE’S OVER!

Doozer slides into the squared circle just as the bell rings.

DING DING DING!

Bryan McVay: And your winner, KEVINNNNNN CAAAAAAPONNNNNNNNNNE!

Joe Hoffman: Another great win for Capone, but what in the world is Doozer doing in the ring? He looks beside himself in anger. With his feelings well known about his ex-teammate Cancer Jiles, you’d think he’d be happy right now!

Benny Newell: He’s a fucking idiot, Joe. Who knows.

Capone, having released the hold and gotten to his feet, spins around to see what the commotion from the crowd is all about. Jiles rolls out of the ring and retreats, looking confused as he backtracks up the ramp. Doozer quickly sends a boot to Kevin’s midsection, doubling Capone over. Doozer hooks both of Capone’s arms, with Kevin’s head tucked under his left armpit. He lifts Capone up and plants him head first onto the mat.

Joe Hoffman: Doozer just hit his old finisher, The Abuser, on Kevin Capone! What in the world? Sure, Capone got the best of him before Bottomline, but the two seemed to have left that match in a show of good sportsmanship…

Doozer stands over Capone’s body menacingly. His face turned deep red and blue eyes looking more green than blue.

Doozer: This match should’ve been mine! That should’ve been ME beating HIM! ME! ME! MEEEE!!!

Boettcher pushes Doozer back away from the downed Kevin Capone as we cut away.

We cut backstage where Daytona appears, her helmet under one arm and her bomberjacket open to reveal a black and gold halter that matches her tights. Standing nearby is the interviewer Brian Bare, still out of breath from his scare with Clay Byrd earlier,  and a cameraman who turn to see the blonde and rush over to speak to her. Stopping, Daytona holds up her hand as Brian begins to speak.

Brian Bare: You are in a good mood…right? Um….ya…..nevermind that….let me know if you see a Mad Byrd …….so ya….anyway……Daytona I wanted to get a soundbyte about your match toni…

Daytona shakes her head as she puts a finger against the lips of Brian to silence him. A soft rush of air escapes her as the hand lowers to the microphone and then she tugs it gently out of the hands of Bare and uses her other hand to motion for him to stand back or go away.

Daytona: Shuuush Brian. I don’t want you to hurt yourself. You just stand right there and let the adults talk ok?

Bare’s mouth hangs open as Daytona turns to the camera man. He is standing there amazed while Daytona gives him a once over then motions with the microphone for the cameraman to start filming. Nodding slowly, he pulls the camera up to his shoulder and focuses it on Daytona who smirks into the camera.

Daytona: Brian here was looking for me to give him a comment about my match tonight against the HOtv champion. What can I say that hasn’t already been said? Look…Jace Parker Davidson is champion and he has defended the title night after night. True he defended it against losers and hasbeens and neverwillbes. Because of that, you have to applaud and cheer and basically kiss the ass of a paper crowned king of everything. I got news for you.

Daytona leans forwards, her smile seeming to brighten but doesn’t reach her eyes.

Daytona: I don’t bow down to anyone and I sure as hell don’t kiss the ring or ass for anyone. Tonight I am going to be in that ring and I suggest you do one of two things. Here is your choice Jace…you can come out and get yourself beaten like a redhead stepchild or and trust me, this is the better option…you can send your title out with the referee, have him hand it to me and let the world know that you forfeit to avoid being beaten in the middle of the ring.

Daytona smiles then at the thought of it, chuckles almost to herself.

Daytona: But we both know you won’t do that Jace. You just can’t stomach giving up that title. You think it earns…or rather should earn you respect. Respect is earned.

Brian Bare: But Daytona, he deserves respect because he…

Daytona turns to glare at Brian who’s voice peters out slowly.

Daytona: Now as I was saying…You want to earn my respect then you come out to the ring and take your beating like a man. At least then you can say that you tried to put up a defense. Time is running out on you being the champion Jace…tick tock.

Without looking at him, Daytona holds out the microphone then opens her hand to let the microphone go. Brian rushes forward and is left bobbling the microphone as Daytona walks out of the camera view softly whistling as we cut away.

The HOTv flickers for a moment before we are shown the darkened skyline of Arkham, Massachusetts. The steep roofs and chimneys cut a jagged line across the horizon while the distant purple sky indicates that the sun had just set a few moments before. We slowly settle on one singular home, a massive sprawling manor known as the Kael Estate. It was larger than it had ever been, crawling like a blight across the aged landscape having consumed the neighboring homes on either side.

A massive crowd mills in the driveway and hard, a collection of disheveled and lost souls all sporting softly glowing red right left eye. They seem to stare forward, toward the front door in an unsettling silence with only the distant sound of giggling echoing on the windless air. Through the front doors and into the depths of the huge home we find ourselves, traversing the maze of halls that seem to stretch unnaturally in all directions until we finally find ourselves at our destination.

Seated in a large wooden chair was the former World Champion, Sutler Reynolds-Kael wearing a pronounced scowl on his face. He is flanked on either side by a still bandaged Mina Starr-Kael and Sut’s little sister, Chloe Sektor-Kael. His little sister appears to be holding a baby though its face is obscured from the view. Past them are MAXKAELJr, who stands behind Chloe, and another mountain of a man, whose face is obscured by a mask, is parked behind Mina.

SRK: First, congratulations to Conor Fuse. He’s the World Champion..for now, and I’d like to say I’ll be getting my title back but..

He shifted in his seat, his scowl deepening as he shook his head.

SRK: Let’s talk about the Best Family, my Grandfather and Uncle specifically. Lee fucked off for his own Bottomline PPV, he let his own son knee him in the face and then he went out on his back. Is he dead? Does anyone even care at this point? I’ve been around HOW since 2009, you know how many times I’ve seen Lee carted off dead? You know how many times that grandstanding guy has cheated death? Maybe it’s a new and exciting thing for you, maybe you just like to suck up to the boss.. But it’s old. And tired. He even pretended like Cancer was going to kill him, that scumbag. Over and over and over..

With a shake of his hand Sutler made a dismissive gesture with his hand.

SRK: He bitches and moans about his own workers then puts that shit out? To steal a phrase from my dear dead old dad, pathetic. At least when Max Kael gets killed, he stays dead. Lee just goes away until he thinks he can get a pop in Chicago. Took what might have been an interesting match and turned it into something I’ve seen before. And for what?

The Son of Scions leans forward as he clasps his hands together, his elbows resting on his knees.

SRK: So that Michael Lee Best could make his big return. So he get put over because, as we all know, Mike Best isn’t over, right?. Once again the same ol’ same old. Only maybe he changed up his hair and a new shirt? Mike Best has been fighting in some of the most horrific matches of the last ten years, still perfectly fit, no bodily scars and not a blemish on him. Just Mike Best.. Again. I give it a few months before he’s gotten bored and finds a new excuse not to be around. Finds a reason to slink away with zero repercussions for the things he’s done.

Rolling his eyes, Sutler leans back up in his chair.

SRK: Just like everything Mike gets involved with, eventually he’ll lose interest and walk away, his problems magically solving themselves. The rest of us will be left to carry or be blamed for his failings. HOFC dies, HIS DIVISION, and it’s everyone else’s fault. The HOAX went strong for a few months and it dried up like a lake in California. Remember that time Mike had a wife and then was going through a divorce? Since he survived that he gets a title shot, cause that’s how that works, you know? PERCEPTION! Man, you know I remember a few months ago Mike was supposed to leave wrestling behind and just do HOFC fights. He was supposed to leave the World Title picture! That lasted less than a year. LESS THAN A YEAR!

He spits on the ground.

SRK: Mike is the reason the eMpire fell apart. Mike is the reason the Group of Death fell apart. Mike is the reason the HOFC fell apart. Mike is probably one of the big reasons the ratings declined for this week. Mike Best wins, for sure, Lee Best books like a lazy dad out of touch with his own product, for sure. Will anything ever change?

Reaching into the side of the chair he was seated in, Sutler retrieved a book with the HISTORY OF HOW written on it. Flipping through it, Sutler seemed to get more and more depressed before tossing the book away.

SRK: Nope. I guess we’ll just microwave and handwave ourselves through this new era of the Best Family. OH BITTERNESS, how it tastes in my mouth.

Once again Sutler spit on the ground.

SRK: So, Office of High Octane Wrestling, until I get my World Title Rematch, you all can fuck off. Fuck right off. Don’t book me. Don’t call me. Need a ref? Call Ben. Don’t ask me for anything because as far as I’m concerned, I’ve given this company MORE than enough.

Flipping the screen off the Son of Scions settles back into his chair.

SRK: Sutler out.

The scene cuts to black as we abruptly leave the Kael Family and head into a commercial break.

Back from commercial and the feed starts out with a simple knock on the door, but the response is a little on the extreme side as the sound of a shattering bottle colliding with the other side of the door sounds. The 4th Wahl stands there, prepared to knock again, but as the glass shatters he simply smiles, and let’s himself in.

Lying on the floor, with his feet crossed at the ankles, propped up on a folding chair is none other than “Beautiful” Bobby Dean. His baby blue tee stretched to its limit across his expanding gut, he casually reaches over to his nearby equipment bag and pulls out yet another bottle of Bud Lite.

4th Wahl: Up and at ‘em buddy, everyone is waiting for you.

Bobby Dean: Fuck off.

The large behemoth laughs uproariously, as if a Tyrant would be intimidated by a lowly ant beneath his boot.

4th Wahl: Come on man, the sooner you get going, the sooner this ends. Then it’s back to your cell at the Holiday Rock, all you can eat yellow dye #5, and I’ll even let you keep Loozer Doozer as your neighbor.

Bobby Dean: I said. Fuck. Off.

Smirking, the 4th Wahl shrugs his shoulders and steps forward.

Bobby Dean: Why should I go through with this? Everyone knows how this is going to end. Just leave me be; give Mike an automatic win; and we don’t waste anyone’s time, and I don’t eat another fucking knee.

Shaking his head as if he didn’t hear a single word, he snatches his hand out, quick as a snake, and grabs one of Bobby’s ankles. Bobby immediately begins to kick like a 4 year old throwing a tantrum, but 4th Wahl simply turns towards the door and heads out. Dragging the lump of shit behind him like it was nothing.

Bobby reaches out and grabs the door jamb, refusing to relinquish his grip, hoping that would be enough to ward off the behemoth. The 4th Wahl simply looks over his shoulder, gives a big tug or two, before he simply steps up and crushes the heel of his boot on Bobby’s genitals.

Bobby Dean: Ahhhhh!!!!

With his grip now broken, the 4th Wahl begins to whistle as he drags Bobby Dean down the halls, causing everyone nearby to stop and stare as we cut back to ringside.

Joe Hoffman: Last week at the end of Bottomline, right after Conor Fuse defeated Sutler Reynolds-Kael for the HOW World Title, this happened…

(REPLAY: The End of Last Week’s Bottomline PPV)
Fuse waits for Boettcher to raise his hand……….but it never happens.

Fuse slowly turns and that is when he first hears the crowd erupting and then he sees what is coming at him…..but far too late.

The knee catches the Champion square between the eyes and as Fuse falls limply backwards he sees a the lights above him begin to blur.

As he, and the broadcast, fade to black we see a final image of the man that delivered the blow.

Michael Lee Best.

Joe Hoffman: Last week, Mike Best announced his return to the squared circle.  Tonight, Mike faces Bobby Dean in his first match back.  Let’s go to the ring where Bryan McVay is ready to introduce the next match. 

McVay takes the cue and begins.

Bryan McVay: Ladies and gentlemen!  Our next match will be one fall.  Introducing first…

“You’re the Best Around”- Joe Esposito plays over the public address system. 

Joe Hoffman: Well?  I’m interested to see how Bobby Dean looks……even if Mr. Wahl had to drag him out of the locker room for this match.

Out trundles one ‘Beautiful’ Bobby Dean. 

Bryan McVay: Weighing in tonight at two hundred and fifty-five pounds and wrestling out of Houston, Texas…    

Joe Hoffman: There’s no way Bobby’s at two hundred of fifty-five pounds.  Or three hundred for that matter.  He’s considerably heavier than the last time we saw Bobby in the ring.   

Benny Newell: Something with that kind of mass usually has celestial objects in orbit around it.  

Joe Hoffman: Benny!

Bryan McVay: …please welcome back… BOBBY!  DEAN!  

Bobby takes his time walking to the ring allowing Benny to take an extra long guzzle from his bottle of Jack.

Joe Hoffman: Released from Alcatraz yesterday and right back in the Best Arena for a match against Michael Lee Best.  We’ll find out if Bobby in any shape whatsoever to actually give Mike a match.

Benny Newell: *PPPPPPPPPPPPFFFFTTTTTTTTT!*

Benny’s long and extended spit take expresses his opinion on the topic.

HALLLLLLELUJAH! HALLLLLLELUJAH! HALLELUJAH! HALLELUJAH! HALLEEEEEEEELUJAH! 

The catchy but vaguely off-putting groove of Hanzel und Gretyl’s “HELLAlujah” begins to slap over the sound system, heralding the arrival of the SON OF GOD, Michael Lee Best. 

Joe Hoffman: And here comes the Son of GOD.  

The always polarizing wrestling veteran steps out slowly onto the stage, making his way toward the ramp. 

Bryan McVay: And his opponent… 

He stares out into the crowd as he bobs his head to the sweet jams of his own entrance music. 

Bryan McVay: …weighing in tonight at two hundred and thirty-five pounds.  He is from Chicago, Illinois.  The SON of GOD… MICHAEL LEE BEST!

As he saunters toward the ring, Mike makes a big show of making sure the camera gets a good zoomed in shot as he flips the bird, displaying his Hall of Fame ring prominently. 

Benny Newell: Take a good look at that Conor Fuse!  

He approaches the apron, rolling under the bottom rope and standing to his feet in the ring. Michael slowly makes his way toward his corner, stretching and preparing for the beginning of the match as his music begins to quiet and fade away.

Bryan McVay: Joel Hortega will be the referee.

Joe Hoffman: Not sure what to expect here.  Bobby Dean has been locked away at Alcatraz since August and was released yesterday just in time for this match.  There’s no way to know just how well he’ll function in the ring.

Benny Newell: Function in the ring?  When has Bobby Dean ever functioned in the ring?  

Joe Hoffman: Way back-

Benny Newell: Way back?  Bobby Dean has been a joke.  He’s a cow being led to slaughter and Mike Best is the executioner.  

Dean leans back against the ropes and awaits his fate. Joel Hortega motions to the time keeper.  

*DING-DING*

Joe Hoffman: And we are underway. 

Dean hangs back.  Best walks to the middle of the ring and makes a big to do about his Hall of Fame ring.  Mike points at the ring on his finger and gestures Dean to come out. 

Joe Hoffman: Mike Best is trying to lure Bobby Dean out of the corner.  

Bobby looks at Mike quizzically.  The Son of GOD continues to motion to Bobby to come out. 

Benny Newell: He should present a platter of burgers, brats, and steaks to him.  That’ll do the trick.  

Mike corners Bobby and continues to taunt him with his big, shiny Hall of Fame ring.  

Joe Hoffman: I know Best was a little offended by what Bobby Dean said this past week. 

Benny Newell:  You mean the whiny, cringey, entitled little jailhouse rant?

Joe Hoffman: I believe so.  

Bobby continues to lay back.  Mike literally sticks the ring in Dean’s face.   Bobby tries to turn away but Mike won’t let him. 

Joe Hoffman: I’m not sure what Mike is trying to accomplish here.

Benny Newell: He’s trying to motivate him.  Bobby would still be back at Alcatraz stuffing Twinkies down his-

*SLAP*

Joe Hoffman: He just slapped Bobby Dean in the face!

Bobby’s face has a clear red mark from where Mike’s open hand struck.  Best tells him to get off the ropes and fight.

Benny Newell: No one does this better than Michael Lee Best.  

*SLAP*

Joe Hoffman: Another slap!  

The sting of the blow still coursing through him, Bobby rubs his face.  Mike tells him to ‘hit him.’   

Joe Hoffman: He’s trying to get Bobby Dean to fight him.

Mike derisively sneers at his opponent.  Again, the ring in the face.  

Benny Newell: For the love of Lee, just end this already Mike. 

Shaking his head, Mike rears back and with an open hand- Bobby suddenly reaches out- grabs Mike- turns and flings him hard into the corner.

Benny Newell: WHAT? 

Kick to the gut by Bobby.

Joe Hoffman: Bobby Dean is finally fighting back! 

Right hand.

And a third.  

Bobby takes two steps back.  He charges in.

Joe Hoffman: AVANLACHE IN THE CORNER!  

Best stumbles two steps out… hangs there for a second… and flops to the mat. 

Benny Newell: WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING!

Joe Hoffman: BOBBY COVERS!

UNO…

DOS…

T-

Joe Hoffman: MIKE KICKED OUT AT THE LAST MOMENT!  

Bobby pops back up.  Mike rolls back up and punts Dean square in the balls.  

Joe Hoffman: OH! 

Bobby’s legs give out and he drops to his knees.  

Benny Newell: Son of GOD, baby.  Son of GOD!  DRINK!    

Joel Hortega goes over and admonishes Best.  

Mike rolls his eyes and hits the ropes.  Running bulldog and the man mountain hit face first on the mat.   Best swoops in and rolls Bobby over.  

UNO…

DOS… 

Joe Hoffman: Dean pushes Mike off.

Landing a few feet away, Mike catches his breath for a second before he gets back to his feet.  He shakes his head and watches as Bobby somehow manages to pull himself up using the ropes.   Once up, he looks across the ring at Mike and motions with his hands for him to come ‘get some.’  

Benny Newell: Stay down Bobby.  Stay down and dream of Yellow Dye #5.  

Mike obliges.  They go to lock up in the middle of the ring- Mike suddenly stomps Bobby’s foot and Bobby fires back a right hand and glances off Mike’s face.  

Joe Hoffman: Bobby Dean is still alive!  

Mike shakes it off and responds with a right of his own.  

Bobby winds up and again nails Mike with a slow-motion right hand that actually backs the Son of God up.  

Benny Newell: Not for long.  He’s already gassed.

Indeed, Bobby’s sweating profusely now and sucking air.  Mike goes for the right hand- stops- and boots Dean in the testicles again.  

Joe Hoffman: And again Mike takes the low road.  

Bobby drops down to his knees again.  Mike backs up against the opposite ropes.  Benny gets excited.

Benny Newell: It’s time for the most electrifying knee in professional wrestling!  

Joe just turns and gives Benny a strange look.

Mike races forward.

Benny Newell: I KNEED A HERO!

Uhhh, not quite.  Mike veers to the side and passes Bobby- hits the ropes- takes Dean by the back of the head and empathically slams it again face first to the mat. 

Mike criss-crosses Dean’s legs into a tight modified figure four leglock.  He bends back- clasps his hands around Bobby’s neck- and yanks it forward.  Mike doesn’t stop there.  He locks up  Bobby’s arms and pulls them back in a chickenwing.

Joe Hoffman: A chickenwing muta lock? 

Benny Newell: A chickenwing-moo-hoo-what?  

Joe Hoffman: The chickenwing muta lock.  It’s a combination of the figure-

Benny Newell: IT DOESN’T MATTER WHAT IT IS HOFFHOLE!  Whatever it is, it’s STILL the most electrifying… submission finisher in… ah… oh fuck it.  DRINK!

Joe Hoffman: It’s definitely not a move you see Mike Best break out every day.    

Hortega looks closely at Bobby.   No resistance.  No fight back.

Joe Hoffman: Bobby’s basically out already.  Joel can call for the bell. 

Upon closer examination, Hortega agrees and calls for the bell. 

*DING-DING-DING*

Joe Hoffman: And that will do it.  

Hortega taps Mike in the back to get him to release the hold while Bryan McVay climbs in the ring to make the official announcement. 

Bryan McVay: Your winner at seven minutes and fifty-five seconds.  MICHAEL! LEE!  BESTTTTT!

Mike gets up and Hortega raises his hand in victory.  

Joe Hoffman: Mike Best’s return to the squared circle is a successful one.  

Best gets in one last kick to the side of Bobby Dean and shakes his head again in absolute disgust at the sloth before him.

Benny Newell: Can someone bring a forklift in to lift Bobby out of the ring?

Joe Hoffman: BENNY!

Refueled heads to commercial.

Coming out of commercial, the spotlight shines on the stage where Sunny O’Callahan uncomfortably waits, microphone in hand, shifting from leg to leg.  

Joe Hoffman: Well?  Tonight’s the night that Sunny O’Callahan has to publicly apologize to Rah as a result of Rah’s win over High Flyer last week at Bottomline!

Benny Newell: RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Barbie-Q and the ex-Arizona State selfie-taking sorority girls file out on stage one by one. 

Joe Hoffman: And here comes the entourage.  

Benny Newell: What?  No music?  No grand entrance?    

A fact not lost to most HOW fans in the crowd tonight.  As the final selfie-taking sorority girls walks out on stage, taking selfies of course, a group of fans take matters into their own hands.  They stand up and start to sing Rah’s entrance song…

Work, work, work
A big pile of it and the boss is a jerk
I just want to disappear
Wishin’ I was somewhere other than here

More people stand up and join in.

Livin’ for the weekend
Jumpin’ off the deep end
With just enough money to buy
A license to chill- and I believe I will

Much to Sunny O’Callahan’s displeasure, soon most of the arena is singing Jimmy Buffett’s “License to Chill.”  She rolls her eyes and sticks her fingers in her ears.

Let the rat race run, roll around in the sun until
Trouble turns funny, songs get sung
A little bit of money, the night’s still young
Leave me alone, I’ve got a license…

LICENSE TO CHILL!

Finally, Sunny can’t take it anymore.

Sunny O’Callahan: ALL RIGHT ENOUGH!  

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Sunny O’Callahan: Whatever.  Let’s get this over with. 

She turns to Barbie-Q.

Sunny O’Callahan: Where is he? 

The HOV fires up and we find out where exactly Rah is.  

Rah: Hello!

Rah’s on a boat.  Cue a few smart-ass fans who suddenly break out into…

I’m on a boat! 
I’m on a boat!
Everybody look at me ‘cause I’m sailing on a-

…which causes Sunny to lose her shit.  

Sunny O’Callahan: SHUT THE FUCK UP! 

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Yes, Rah is on a boat… his wife Dawn McGill is on a boat…  somewhere in the Caribbean with nothing but pure blue water below them and the bright blue sky over them. 

Barbie-Q pokes Sunny on the shoulder.  

Barbie-Q: All right.  You know why you’re here.  Let’s do it.

Sunny sweeps Barbie’s hand away from her.  She looks out at the crow, lips pursing then quivering, eyes betraying the fact she’s absolutely sick to her stomach at what she’s about to do.  So, it’s no surprise to anyone when the tone of voice she uses borders on… well…

Sunny O’Callahan: Fine!  I’m sorry!!

…petulance?

But if the tone of voice seems less than sincere, it doesn’t seem to bother the Sunshine God.  

Rah: Rah accepts your apology.  And as a further gesture of my goodwill in hopes we can move on from this…

Two deputies from Camden County Sheriff suddenly appear.  Sunny appears apprehensive at first.  Then they bend down and remove the BI Incorporated EX-600 Ankle Monitor Bracelet Tracer  from her ankle.  The green flashing light stops and Sunny’s ankle- the part where the bracelet was is noticeable by the lack of tan compared to the rest of her leg- is free for the first time in weeks.  

Rah: Rah has enjoyed his time in HOW.  

He puts his arm about McGill. 

Rah: But Rah believes it’s time to step away from wrestling and enjoy life.

Barbie-Q’s head drops.  Even the ex-ASU sorority girls stop taking selfies and appear sad at the news.

Rah: So now, Rah… the Sunshine God… the Champion of the World… bids you all goodbye and good luck! 

Dawn smiles and nods at the HOTv cameraman filming the vignette.    

Dawn McGill: Okay, we’re done here.

The HOV goes black.  

Joe Hoffman: Wait.  Have we seen the last of Rah in HOW?  

Benny Newell: NOOOO!  Don’t go away with Dawn Medusa!  Rah. RAHHHHHHHH!  COME BACK!   

After Barbie-Q and the sorority girls silently file off to the back and leave Sunny all by herself on the stage, she stares a hole through the HOV.  

Finally, she shakes her head.

Sunny O’Callahan: No…

Defiantly raising the microphone so she can be clearly heard throughout the Best Arena.

Sunny O’Callahan: We’re not done yet.  We’re just getting started.

Mic drop and she exits to the back.

A video begins to play on the HOV and as we fade in we see that this has been prerecorded as its fittingly dated 9.7

They say you measure a man by a few different principals. Number one, being able to be counted on in any situation..good or bad. Number two, how financially stable is he? Did he or does he live in a lucrative lifestyle where he can support someone? Number three, this one perhaps the most important of all….can he trust you? Follow up to number three but, is he willing to take that risk and play a war that has brewing for quite sometime now and will he have what it takes to pivoting his way back to the top of High Octane?

The camera zooms in to see it’s none other than Mr. Executive himself, Brian Hollywood, still comfortably locked away behind bars. Hollywood can be seen laying on the bed and it most definitely appeared that he was anything but comfortable. Hollywood sighs before struggling to sit up as the bed was a bit on the rocky side.

Brian Hollywood: Jesus H tap dancing Christ! This is one of the many reasons why I hate this place! If anyone ever expected this place to be comfortable back when this place actually prospered, then you’re a bigger dumbass than I thought. However, I suppose I really can’t talk as I’ve landed here a couple of times before tonight. The problem, though, is that unlike the other times, I’m just having troubles figuring out if being here is a good thing…or a bad thing..

It was easily apparent that Hollywood had been thinking about his latter statement moreover so than anything else so much so that he was losing sleep over it. There was just something he couldn’t shake.

Brian Hollywood: Look I’ve been here before but the problem is it really never gets easier each passing year. In fact, HOW’s days are probably on the less limited road by now. So after thinking about that, it got me thinking about my current predicament. The fact of the matter is, though, I can’t shake my destiny or fate. It wouldn’t matter what path I took…I would still find myself back to where I needed to be. Perhaps that’s why I’ve been labeled as such because it has brought me success but also failure. I don’t like that mixed bag so I’m doing everything I can to remedy with the stench of failure. I hate failing but more importantly I HATE losing and being an afterthought.

Water can be heard dripping in Hollywood’s cell as there is nothing but silence for a few moments. Hollywood was really wrestling with himself this evening when it came to the choices he made.

Brian Hollywood: The fact of the matter is when I turned my eyes towards all the green, I saw nothing but opportunity and by me being the Strategic Opportunist, I saw my shot and I fucking took it! It allowed me to climb to the top of the HOW mountain and claim what was rightfully mine…what had eluded me for eight years. I bid my time and then I struck with a force of vengeful fucking lightning. Now I have to decide whether or not I want to remind myself the man I used to be and still can be, or I simply walk away from it all and block the green from poisoning my mind. I digress, though, since when did it ever become a problem to me?

Hollywood pauses for a brief moment as the camera pans over to the dry, blood stain wall. Within the now dried up blood, a small foundation takes shape and it’s a pile of rubble in what anyone might assume is Hollywood’s old mansion.

Brian Hollywood: I know we all have our part to play, here. But me? I’m still trying to figure everything out but I will tell you all one thing….you better hope that if I do happen to figure it out, that you’re all nowhere near me because I promise you…you won’t even know which side I’ll end up on and for the sake of anything circumstantial at Rumble at the Rock, you better hope that I don’t take anyone out that just happens to step in front of me at the PPV. However, if one thing is certain it’s this…

TIME IS TICKING!

The video ends and we cut to our final commercial break of the evening.

Back live from our final commercial break and we cut to the Hall of Fame announce team.

Joe Hoffman: It’s time for the main event of the evening, where we will see Jace Parker Davidson defending the HOTV Championship against Daytona. We’re gonna see a ring general that has ruled the HOTV Division with an iron fist go up against an Air Force veteran that is willing to turn on the afterburners in order to dethrone him. This is gonna be a good one, folks!

Benny Newell: I’m so torn, Joe! On one hand, Jace is graced by the hand of God himself, Lee Best–but on the other, Daytona is blessed by Lady Liberty herself! Which do I choose?! Ugh, I need a new bottle of Jack STAT!

Bryan McVay: This match is scheduled for one fall, and it is for the HOTV Championship! Introducing first, the challenger… from Daytona, Florida, weighing one-hundred-thirty-seven pounds… DAYTONA!

Kesha’s Woman begins to blare around the venue as a soft sound of afterburners is heard as a backdrop. The backstage lights backlight the figure of a person. Moving out to the stage area, a helmeted person in a bomber jacket and tights stands there before their hands slowly move upward. Slowly, the helmet is lit up with the name Daytona on a checkered background as the hands pull it away to reveal long golden hair that floats on air blown from under the stage. Daytona smiles as she hands off her helmet then moves down the aisle to the ring. As she moves, her hand pulls the zipper of the jacket downwards revealing a tight halter that matches the tights. Once at the ring, she leaps on the apron and pulls herself up to lean against the ropes to mock the fans before ducking through the ropes and into the ring to stretch and prepare for the match.

Joe Hoffman: Daytona’s got to be feeling quite a lot tonight. Not only is this easily the biggest opportunity she’s had since coming to HOW, but I would be remiss to not mention that as a veteran, getting the win tonight would be huge on a level that cannot be overstated.

Benny Newell: Well no shit! She’s a veteran that served our country. Daytona toppling the King of Everything on the twentieth anniversary of September 11th would be huge!

Joe Hoffman: That’s going to be a tall order, though. Jace’s reign has been nothing short of dominant, and he’s got a lot of advantages that Daytona will need to find a way to overcome.

Benny Newell: If Daytona ends Jace Parker Davidson’s winning streak, do you think she’ll get a bald eagle like Steve Solex?! DRINK TO FIND OUT!

Bryan McVay: And her opponent… from Miami, Florida, weighing two-hundred-fifty-three pounds… he is the reigning HOTV Champion, JACE PARKER DAVIDSON!

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. With the HOTV Championship around his waist, 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, removes the HOTV Championship and hands it to Madison before the match starts.

Joe Hoffman: On the other hand, Jace Parker Davidson holds a lot of the advantages on paper. Size, strength, and experience are all on his side, and he’s also got the momentum of being on quite the tear. Since he won the HOTV Championship, no one has been able to overcome him.

Benny Newell: The King of Everything is ruling with an iron fist, just as Lee intended. DRINK!

Joe Hoffman: That momentum, however, comes at the cost of an absence of down time. The HOTV Champion has to be feeling fatigued at this point with so many consecutive shows going up against tough competition.

Benny Newell: Pfffff, losers like Darin Zion aren’t tough! Daytona, though… she can kill a man with her bare hands. Why can’t we aim her at someone I don’t like?!

Both competitors stop their stretching as Jace’s music fades, champion and contender staring one another down with neither willing to give an iota to the other. Matt Boettcher is quick to motion for the bell and get things underway!

DING DING DING!

Daytona is fired up and charges right at her fellow Floridian as soon as the bell rings. Jace catches her with a right hand, but despite this and the size difference, Daytona pushes through and nails a punch of her own. She gets pushed back by more right hands, but when Jace tries to close, she ducks under his strikes and bounds into the ropes, ducks a clothesline attempted on the rebound, springboards off the middle rope, and blasts Jace in the face with a dropkick! She drops into a cover attempt, but no one is surprised when Jace kicks out before Boettcher can get into position to count.

Joe Hoffman: Daytona’s speed is her advantage here, and she’s taking full advantage of it!

Benny Newell: Speed was also Eli Dresden’s edge, and it wasn’t enough to topple the King! Daytona’s gonna need to dig into that killer instinct to have a hope in Hell here.

Daytona is already running the ropes again, knowing she’ll need momentum on her side to overcome the size difference, but Jace can use it against her and leaps up, blasting her with a bicycle knee strike! Daytona flails as she staggers back into the corner, Jace chasing her to keep her close. Jace drives his shoulder into her stomach with shoulder thrusts, then starts to lift her up to the top rope. She tries to fight her way out with punches and downward elbows, but Jace keeps her at arm’s length long enough to climb up next to her. He looks like he’s going for a Spanish Fly, but now the elbows are close and stun him. He fires back with some body blows, but they are across his body and lack leverage, so one final elbow pushes him off the top rope. Daytona sets herself to leap off, but her attempted hurricanrana is intercepted and Jace plants her with a ring-shaking Powerbomb! He drops down to cover Daytona, and Boettcher follows.

ONE…

TWO…

Daytona kicks out, getting an uncharacteristic amount of cheers.

Joe Hoffman: The fans tonight are firmly in Daytona’s corner! Whether that’s a statement about their patriotism or their hatred of Jace’s ego is up for debate, but the results are undeniable!

Benny Newell: Usually I don’t care what the crowd thinks, but this time? I’ll give’em a pass because they’re not cheering for Daytona. They’re cheering for AMERICA! DRINK!

Jace sits Daytona up, looking like he might keep her grounded with a chinlock, but he just dropkicks her straight in the back of the head, getting booed as Daytona clutches her head and rolls away. He gives precisely zero shits as he goes after her, trying for a standing double stomp, but Daytona rolls out of the way. This doesn’t impede Jace much, but he does look annoyed as he reaches down to grab Daytona and lift her up. He then turns his back, hooks her arms, and twists around to lift her up on his back, parading around the ring a bit before dropping her on her head with a Vertebraker! Boettcher rushes over to check if she’s okay, but before he can, Jace flips her over for another cover.

ONE…

TWO…

The crowd pops again as Daytona kicks out of a move that ends some people’s careers. Jace furrows his brow, then covers her again, hooking both her legs.

ONE…

TWO…

More cheers as she kicks out again.

Joe Hoffman: Jace is hitting Daytona with everything he’s got!

Benny Newell: The King has things well in hand, Joe. Settle your tits!

Jace sits Daytona up, looking like he’s going to do the dropkick again, but he runs the ropes, but as he fires off another V-Trigger knee, Daytona drops back to dodge, then kips up before he can whirl around! Jace reaches for her for a suplex or neckbreaker, but Daytona slips free, backing into a corner. Jace runs after her, knowing he can’t give her space, but as he goes for another shoulder thrust in the corner, she dodges out of the ring, leaving Jace to blast himself into the ringpost! She climbs up top as he recoils back, never quite going upright, which suits her fine as she drives him into the canvas with a diving leg drop bulldog! Jace doesn’t flip over onto his back, probably out of instinct, but Daytona keeps going, springing off the middle rope to blast his back with a moonsault. Jace arches his back as Daytona rolls him over to try for a cover.

ONE…

TWO…

Jace kicks out, but it’s much less emphatic than it has been.

Joe Hoffman: As ironic as it might sound, slow and steady is going to be what wins the day for Daytona here. If she can keep sticking and moving, she’s gonna wear Jace down until there’s just enough left for her to pin.

Benny Newell: No–I mean yes–FUCK! Why is this so confusing?! Can’t you ever just say things outright?

Daytona stomps Jace a few times before slipping out onto the apron, gripping the top rope in a sign that makes the crowd murmur, as they anticipate her springboard tornado DDT. She may be Locked and Loaded, but as Jace slowly gets to his feet, it’s too much recovery time, so as she jumps onto the top rope, Jace sets his feet, and as she leaps, it’s directly into a Superkick! She crumbles, and Jace covers her quickly.

ONE…

TWO…

More cheers as Daytona pushes through again! Jace is starting to get annoyed now, lifting her up quickly. She’s loopy, so he backs into the ropes, surging forward with another bicycle knee! Daytona goes down, but Jace wants to make sure things are done, so he lifts her up again. He drops his head down to lift Daytona over his back, this time for a Deadeye Driver! The crowd boos as he goes for another cover.

ONE…

TWO…

The cheers shake the arena as Daytona slips a shoulder up again!

Joe Hoffman: Daytona is just not willing to quit! What is Jace gonna have to do to keep her down for the three count at this point?!

Benny Newell: I’m starting to wonder just how that HOTV Championship is gonna look around Daytona’s waist at this point, Lee help me–ooh, maybe she’ll do a photo shoot just wearing the title in front of the American Flag! Wouldn’t THAT be great!

Jace is angry as he looks ready to put Daytona down for good. He lifts her up, and she immediately sags, bent over, and Jace backs into the corner to get his run up for his curbstomp, but as he comes in for the kill shot, rather than Bend Her Knee, Daytona surges to life, rushing past him, making him whirl around, and she’s springing off the top rope and twisting around to catch Jace with the tornado DDT! The momentum of the DDT makes Jace stunned in the seated position, so Daytona pays him back by springboarding off the bottom rope, just for a little extra insult to a retaliatory dropkick to Jace’s skull. Daytona starts to really get fired up as Jace clutches the back of his head, and she climbs up the top turnbuckle, looking to put Jace down for good. Jace staggers up to his feet, prompting Daytona to leap, but Jace ducks out of the way. Daytona seems to anticipate this and rolls through her attempted Kamikaze dive, but as she meets Jace, she gets kicked in the stomach, and before she can recover, Jace has dropped her with a snap double arm DDT. The crowd howls at the Unscripted Violence, but they can’t stop Jace from covering Daytona.

ONE…

TWO…

THREE!

DING DING DING!

Kingdom hits the sound system as the crowd loudly jeers the victor, Jace getting to his feet with a wince that quickly dissolves into a smirk. As Daytona slowly begins to stir in the background, JPD is handed the HOTV Championship belt by Boettcher, the King of Everything raising the belt to further boos from the crowd.

Joe Hoffman: And Jace’s dominance continues! Daytona came damn close to putting an end to his reign, but in the end, his experience was just too much for her.

The 72nd edition of Refueled ends with a final shot of Jace holding the HOTv championship high in the air as we fade to black.