Refueled LXXIII
  • Event Type: weekly

Refueled LXXIII

Event Date: September 18, 2021 at 10:00 pm

#17 Scottywood vs. #18 Bobby Dean

Gluttony vs. Sloth

Pyro engulfs the stage as we open Refueled to a nearly sold out Target Center in Minneapolis as rabid HOW fans are going wild in anticipation of another wild night. The camera as usual pans around the crowd and catch a few of the color signs fans have brought to get their three seconds of fame on HOTv.

Joe Hoffman: Welcome to Refueled LXXIII… or for Benny, seventy-three…

Benny Newell: Fuck off Joe, I’ve been doing Century Club in roman numerals to practice.

Joe Hoffman: Anyhow, we got a big show tonight, two titles will be on the line. JPD defends the HOTv Title against QT Reese… and for the first time in over a decade, Jatt Starr fights for the World Title as he takes on the new champion Conor Fuse in his first title defense.

Benny Newell: Yeah, and then a bunch of dirty sinners and nobodies… except that Eli Dresden chick. Looking forward to that match.

Joe Hoffman: Of course you are… well yes Eli Dresden does take on JJR, we also have Brian Hollywood and Doozer going one on one… and in our opening match is Bobby Dean taking on…

Benny Newell: The dirty alcoholic! DRINK!

Joe Hoffman: Again Benny, how hypocritical is it of you…

Benny Newell: Cause I’m drinking Jack Daniel’s Joe, which is clean. Scotty is drinking dirty IPAs. Hence, dirty alcoholic… and how I am clean.

Joe Hoffman: That’s thirty seconds I’ll never get back… anyhow, we already have Scotty’s opponent Bobby Dean in the ring. Someone told me he started his entrance thirty minutes before the show started, as to not get too winded.

Benny Newell: Fucking fat sloth. I got a side bet going on the over-under of Bobby’s weight for tonight. Three hundred pounds it’s set at… so of course I took the over.

OOOOOOOOHHHHHHH, I’M BACK FROM THE DEAD!!!

Halestorm’s “I’m Back From the Dead” blasts as we see The Hardcore Artist appear out on the stage, again this week with his barbed wire hockey stick in hand. Scotty raises the hockey stick in the air as he makes his way down the ramp and to the ring.

Bryan McVay: Now making his way to the ring, from New York City and weighing in at 275 pounds… The Hardcore Artist…. Scottywood!!!!!

Scotty slides into the ring as he stares down Bobby Dean and points the hockey stick at him while Joel Hortega has the uneasy task of stepping between the two men until the bell rings. Scotty’s music fades as Bryan McVay turns to Bobby Dean for his introduction.

Bryan McVay: And his opponent, from Houston, Texas… and weighting in tonight at 299 and a half pounds…

Benny Newell: Fucking eh!!!!

Bryan McVay: Bobby Dean!!!!!

Joe Hoffman: No rounds of shots for everyone after the show tonight Benny?

Benny Newell: Zip it Joe! How the fuck is Bobby not 300 pounds! Recount!

McVay goes to leave the ring, but Scottywood stops him as he takes the mic from him.

Scottywood: Last week someone backstage was messing with my authority as partial owner of HOW. Blocking my stipulations… well not this week! Bobby, tonight’s match will… and Hortega I know you under these two words… will be a NO DQ match! Now ring the bell!

Hortega nods his head as Scotty tosses the mic away before anyone can counter his decision.

DING DING DING

Joe Hoffman: Last week Scotty tried the same thing but was stopped before he got to the ring. This week waits until the very last second.

Benny Newell: I mean that not as fat as I thought fuck just cost me some serious money. But how is this fair? He has that fucking hockey stick in hand still.

Bobby understand the same as he cautiously stares down Scotty who just smiles at Bobby as he charges him with the barbed wire hockey stick. Swinging away Bobby throws his arms up and eats the barbed wire right in his right forearm. But the arm fat somehow absorbs a lot of the blow as the barbwire is caught in his skin. Bobby now smiles as he delivers a nasty headbutt to the jaw of Scottywood before ripping the hockey stick out of his arm and tossing it to the mat.

Joe Hoffman: Bobby able to withstand the first shot and then targeted that recently healed jaw of Scottywood to gain the advantage.

Bobby charges at a stunned Scotty and spears or more so tackles him, landing all 299.5 pounds right on the chest of Scottywood as it turns into a makeshift pinfall.

UNO……

DOS……..

Scotty manages to push a shoulder up as Bobby clubs him in the jaw a few times before he pulls him up to his feet and whips him into the corner. Bobby again charges… which is more like a brisk walk and squashes Scotty against the turnbuckles. He delivers a few more shots to the jaw as Hortega counts to Cuatro… even though it is a NO DQ match before Bobby backs away. But he boots Scotty in the ribs and connects with a DDT.

UNO……

DOS………

Scotty again just powers a shoulder up under the weight of Dean who again drills Scotty with a couple shots to the jaw to keep control of The Hardcore Artist.

Joe Hoffman: Bobby really focusing on the jaw of Scottywood, that is what did The Hardcore Artist in last week when QT Reese dropped that bonzai drop on it.

Benny Newell: Fits Scotty to have a glass fucking jaw. Plus is Hortega using five counts in a No DQ match?

Bobby Dean pulls himself up as he loses the waistband of his tights and signals at… or for The Deaner Weiner. He picks Scotty up and goes to stuff Scotty’s head into his tights but Scotty goes gets a foot on the second turnbuckle and launches his head forward into Dean’s…

Benny Newell: Weiner! Head butt by Scotty to Dean’s fucking weiner!

Bobby Dean is doubled over as Scotty climbs to his feet and big boots Bobby in the side of the head before connecting with a DDT in the middle of the ring. Scotty struggles a bit, but is able to shoot the half and goes for the cover on Dean.

Joe Hoffman: SDT by Scotty and this could be over!

UNO……….

DOS…………………

TR……..

Bobby kicks out right before the three as pulls himself up and spots his barbed wire hockey stick in the corner of the ring from earlier. He smiles as he picks it up and stalks Bobby who has managed to roll over and slowly start to get back to his feet. But Scotty cuts him off as he takes the hockey stick and starts beating it across the back of Bobby Dean as the Minneapolis crowd is booing… but also counting along with the shots.

ONE…

TWO….

THREE…..

FOUR……

FIVE……

SIX……

Joe Hoffman: More underhanded tactics by Scottywood as he bludgeons Dean with that hockey stick.

Benny Newell: I HATE the fucker, but this is a No DQ match Joe.

Joe Hoffman: That was made at the last second by Scottywood.

Blood is running down the back of Bobby Dean as we can see chunks of flesh stuck on the barbed wire as Scotty throws the stick onto the mat and pulls Bobby Dean up to his feet by his hair. He slaps him across the face and can he heard yelling “I’m gonna really put your fat ass to sleep now you fuck!” before wrapping his hand around Bobby’s throat and connecting with a chokeslam into the barbed wire hockey stick.

Joe Hoffman: Scottyslam on the hockey stick and this one is now academic folks, cover by Scotty.

UNO…………

DOS……………..

TRES…………………….

Benny Newell: The fat ass has lost ag….

Joe Hoffman: Shoulder up by Dean!!!

Hortega does indeed signal it was only a two as the crowd roars. Scotty can’t believe it as he yells at Hortega, but it is futile as Bobby starts to get back to his feet. Scotty goes to throw a right at Bobby who blocks it and fires back with his own right… and a second… and a third that has Scottywood reeling into the ropes. Bobby goes for a front face lock but Scotty counters with a swift kick in the balls that sends Bobby stumbling backwards in pain.

Joe Hoffman: And again Scotty cuts off Bobby’s momentum with a low blow in this impromptu No DQ match.

Scotty is laughing as he grabs Bobby and hoists all 299.5 pounds up onto his shoulders. He again eyes his barbed wire hockey stick and he swings Bobby in front of him and hits the DDT straight into the hockey stick.

Joe Hoffman: Game Misconduct onto the hockey stick…

Benny Newell: Look at the blood running down his face Joe… look! DRINK!

Joe Hoffman: Scotty rolling the lifeless body of Dean over and again with the cover.

UNO……

DOS…………..

TRES…………….

DING DING DING

Bryan McVay: Your winner, in nine minutes and twelve seconds…. Scottywood!!!!

Scotty quickly rolls out of the ring to the boo of the fans as he yells at Hortega to follow him. Hortega checks on Dean and exits the ring where he raises Scotty’s arm in victory.

Joe Hoffman: Maybe not the most honest win, but I have a feeling The Hardcore Artist doesn’t care.

Benny Newell: He cares more about getting his next beer…

Scotty exits backstage as Bobby Dean pulls the barbed wire out of his forehead and rolls out of the ring as we cut away.

FALL INTO DEALS AT REESEMART

Within the Target Center, Brain Bare is standing by with tonight’s challenger for the HOTV Championship. However, while QT Reese looks nowhere near prepared for his battle against Jace Parker Davidson, he certainly looks ready to make money. A sandwich board is draped over his torso that reads “FALL INTO DEALS AT REESEMART” with several gold and orange leaves glued around it to emphasize the word play. A cheap Reesemart trucker hat covers his messy blond nest.

Naturally, the rapport between Brian and QT had quickly developed as the two were seemingly birds of a feather. They both are giggling at something when the camera switches its view to the backstage area. In an instant, Bare switches to “professional” mode as he kicks things off.

Brian Bare: Ladies and gentlemen, Christmas QT Reese is with me, and I’m sure he has a lot to say about his opportunity to take home gold tonight!

QT Reese: What brand is that microphone? Is that a Shure mic?

Brian peers down at the talking stick in his hand, turning it over to pretend like he knows how to find the manufacturer’s label.

Brian Bare: I uh, I think so?

QT Reese: That’s pretty cool. One time, back home in Corner Brook, I was using a Shure mic through a small speaker to let everyone know about an upcoming wrestling show. That was when I got to main event against Spliggins Muldoon while he was still in the independent circuit. Anyway, he’s dead now. What other questions do you have for me, Double B?

Brian Bare: Well, Christmas, I haven’t actually asked a question yet.

QT Reese: I’ve asked questions once.

Brian Bare: I…I’m sure you have. Anyway, any comments on your match against JPD tonight? We all saw your praise of his work in your vignette this week.

Reese snarls, waving his hands off in scorn as his nostrils begin to flare.

QT Reese: You know, you try to be nice to someone and celebrate their accomplishments, and what do you get in return? I’ll tell you what you get, Brian. Attacks on your business acumen and comments about your DEAR MOTHER, who ladles the pea soup every Sunday for the church luncheon! So everything I said about him that was complimentary this week? I take it ALLLLLLLLLLLLLLL back. Everything about him SUCKS ASS! Except the handsome part, because let’s be real: he’s a good-looking fella. And the part where I said he was really awesome for doing it a lot. Oh, and limousines fucking rule too, those are definitely cool.

Brian Bare: Christmas, I think those three things were all you really said about him.

QT glances back at Brian and pauses. Whoops. That was true, but Brian was not dealing with a man who was going to ever admit fault. Only shift gears.

QT Reese: And ANOTHER THING, how dare he DEVALUE me by tapping a practice dummy from fucking ONTARIO to prepare for this! The only person worthwhile out of that province was the late Rob Ford! Jace Parker Davidson, you are Jace Parker DEAD-is-son tonight, buddy. This could have been a civil affair, but it looks like I’m going to show you who the better wrestler and businessman is! Because I am top FUCKING tier when it comes to fighting and selling. I’m the KING of selling! I sell in my pajamas while I’m asleep! There is nothing I won’t sell!

Brian Bare: Well, OK then! Any statement on the sneak attack from last week by Bobbinette Carey?

QT Reese: No.

Brian appears to be surprised by the short dismissal, considering what he’d just said right before. He shrugs it off.

Brian Bare: Let’s take it back to the ring, then.

Smart

The camera pans the ringside area, but quickly cuts to the HOV as the opening “HALLELUJAH” of Hazel Und Gretyl’s “Hellalujah” begins to blast over the sound system at the Target Arena. There is a resoundingly mixed reaction from the Minnesota crowd as the King of the High Octane Jungle, Michael Best, slowly makes his way out from the entranceway with a giant smile on his face.

HOW’s new number one contender is wearing a tasteful sports jacket with a simple t-shirt underneath, emblazoned with a “Twin Cities” design on the front. He already has a microphone in hand, as he stands at the top of the ramp.

Mike Best: Boy, it feels GREAT to be in Minneapolis tonight!

He continues walking down toward the ring, as a herald of mostly boos greets him for his efforts. While there is still a good section of the arena who sound happy to see him, the overwhelming reaction is negative. He talks while he walks.

Mike Best: Oof. I guess Minnesota isn’t exactly Lion country, is it? Guess we’re not in Chicago anymore. See, everyone knows that Mike Best gets cheered in Chicago. And everyone thinks that’s because it’s my hometown, but the truth is, I was born in New Jersey. I get cheered in Chicago because the wrestling fans in Chicago are smart. It’s the smartest market in America. But it isn’t just Chi-Town– smart fans have always cheered me, everywhere I went. They cheered me in New York. In London. In the actual swamps of Florida. Listen to any wrestling crowd in the world, and you’ll hear two types of wrestling fans– you’ve got your smart fans, and you’ve got your babies and morons.

He’s still smiling, talking as he walks toward the ring.

Mike Best: Smart fans recognize that I have been at the top of my game for ten years. That I have put every ounce of my heart and soul into this company. That no matter what, I have always bled 97 Red. So they cheer their asses off, because they know that I am the face and the lifeblood of HOW. And those are the fans that I listen to, because they’re smart. The babies and morons? They can boo away all they like. They can cry when they don’t get their way, like toddlers in grocery stores. The world needs babies and the world needs morons, but we don’t need them here in HOW. So which are you, Minneapolis? Are you smart, intelligent consumers? Or are you a bunch of babies and morons?

The reaction is much less split this time. It’s a lot of boos. It turns out that the crowd doesn’t appreciate being put into a box for voicing their opinions. Who’d have thunk? Michael awkwardly rubs the back of his neck, looking somewhat bewildered that they aren’t on his side.

Mike Best: Boy, must have been some no-shows. Guess we papered the Target Center tonight.

The Hall of Famer shrugs. He slowly climbs the ring steps, ducking through the ropes and stepping onto the canvas.

Mike Best: But it’s alright, trust me… I get it. And I hear you. It isn’t just the babies and the morons who are upset with me right now, is it? Jace Parker Davidison… Sutler Kael… everyone else in the back with a strong opinion about my return to HOW, I hear you. All you people here tonight in the Twin Cities, I hear you. You don’t think it’s fair that I get to “skip the line”. You don’t think it’s fair that on my first night back in High Octane Wrestling, I was handed the rights to face off against the HOW World Champion at Rumble at the Rock. You respect the rankings. You respect the right to a champion’s rematch. I get it, and I hear you. It doesn’t feel fair, and maybe it isn’t. I can empathize with that.

A pause from the crowd, after an unexpected moment of seeming self awareness from the Son of God. He definitely appears to be sincere, even as he continues.

Mike Best: But come on, guys. You… you know it’s a formality, right?

Another shrug. The moment is uncomfortable, but still seemingly completely sincere.

Mike Best: Like… I’m not trying to be a dick here but… I’ve lost three matches since 2015. Two by disqualification, and one by kneeing a man so hard that it crippled the structural integrity of a steel cage. I’m not bragging. That’s just… how it is. Do you really need me to fight my way back up the ladder? Do you really need to see me beat a bunch of up and coming guys and kill their heat? I understand your frustrations. I hear your complaints. And like I said, I empathize. I do. But we just have to be realistic here.

Now, the boos begin again. Michael can only shake his head— they might not like it, but he’s not trying to stir them up. He leans against the ropes, facing the HOV and talking to the backstage area.

Mike Best: Jace. Jace. I heard your promo, bud. And I really do get why you’re upset. But come on, are you gonna beat me? Really? When’s the last time we fought… like six or seven years ago? Since then, I’ve been working hard every day and getting better and better and… you’re the TV Champion. And that’s great! I’m proud of you, man. Keep defending that belt and doing your thing. You are the absolute King of the TV Title Division. The undisputed Top of the Bottom. The King of Everything Below The Upper Midcard, and that is a GREAT vehicle for you. But… come on, Jace. Come on.

He arches a brow. It cannot be emphasized enough that he doesn’t sound like he’s being sarcastic— the words at least sound heartfelt, but that somehow makes them worse. The crowd is not happy.

Mike Best: come on. Tonight you face QT Reese, and that’s where your brain should be. He’s a tough competitor. You beat him, and it’s on to the next. You don’t? Well, rankings be damned, do you really think you’re gonna earn a title shot losing to the Reesemart guy! Focus on QT. Focus on that HUGE match with Clay Byrd. Focus on the division that brought you back to the table. I understand where you’re coming from, man. I’d be mad too. But be realistic.

He keeps his eyes focused on the HOV, clearly not done yet. The crowd is clearly confused as to how to feel about what is happening out here tonight.

Mike Best: And Sutler. I hear you. I understand. I empathize. You’re a tremendous young talent and I’m so proud of you, too. I’ve watched you grow up and you’re so close to ripe. You hardly even notice all the green anymore. Hell, you won War Games! And they can’t take that away from you, no matter how hard they try. I’ve heard the vile things they say– that you only won War Games in the first place because Farthington and I weren’t in it. Saying that you’re only half as good as your father was, which makes you twenty five percent of the man that I am. Saying that the reason Lee didn’t give you a rematch is because now that he’s got me back, he doesn’t need a shitty YouTube impressionist doing my best bits but getting the set-ups wrong. But ignore those constant, never-ceasing criticisms, Sutler, because what you have… is POTENTIAL. Some day, you’re gonna be the man around here. You’re the future of this company, but that future isn’t now. And that future certainly isn’t at Rumble at the Rock.

Quickly, Michael snaps his fingers. You can almost see the lightbulb go off over his head as he gets a hell of an idea.

Mike Best: Hey, I got it! You should try to get into the LSD Title match! Your dad used to love doing that. Whenever I had the World Title, or even a title shot, he’d go scampering off for that LSD Title and he’d rule that division with an iron fist. You’d do great there, Sutler. We could give it a little nickname and find you a funny little hat. Don’t knock it till you try it– even the third best member of the eMpire was still a Hall of Famer, God rest his soul. And I think your ceiling is higher… as long as you don’t go falling out a third story window.

Those last words have a hint of an edge to them, just the slightest smidge of vile. Even still… there seems to be some real concern for his nephew in play here.

Mike Best: Tonight, Jatt Starr and Conor Fuse step into the ring for a HOW World Title match, and the winner of that match is the man I will face at Rumble at the Rock. It’s a result I’m very interested in. It’s a match I wanna see from real up close, and it’s a match that has my focus here tonight. It’s what SHOULD have my focus. So Jace, and Sutler, and the rest of you in the back who have been grumbling and groaning since I came back? I get it. I cannot tell you enough that I feel for you. That I understand where you’re coming from– it’s good to be hungry. It’s good to be angry. It’s good to feel like you belong at the top of the mountain. That’s the spirit that drives you to keep going, week in and week out. But I’m going to warn you one time to keep your heads out of the lion’s mouth. What you do with that warning is up to you– are you going to be smart?

The big smile returns to his face, as he cocks an eyebrow.

Mike Best: Or are you babies and morons?

Pucker. Kiss. Wait, that’s a different guy’s thing— the Hall of Famer drops the mic and drops to his back, rolling out of the ring. Refueled hits the first commercial break of the evening.

A Jealous Old Bull

Back from commercial and we skip backstage to the interview area where Blaire Moise is seen, smiling into the camera, standing next to a green jumpsuit clad, blond haired, elusive to the eyes High Octane talent. However even the wrestler himself would consider that last word a stretch.

Blaire Moise: As you can all see, I’m here backstage with none other than the temporarily released Alcatraz prisoner, representing one of the seven deadly sins, Envy at that… a former eGG Bandit, a former Best Alliance member for a hot minute, and unpaid endorser of Head and Shoulders… Doozer!

The Old Bull snorts while rolling his eyes.

Blaire Moise: So Doozer, with the journey toward Rumble at the Rock really turning up this week with some one on one preview matches tonight, care to clue us in on any plans for your match tonight against Brian Hollywood?

Blaire raises the mic toward Dollar Menu Doozy’s face. The bulky boy from Boston startles Moise by snatching the microphone out of her hand, bringing it to his mouth himself.

Doozer: Thanks for that beautiful introduction, Blaire. If you spent any longer with this mic, though, I was gonna start to get… jealous.

A half smirk emerges across a side of Unseen Undercarder’s age lined face.

Doozer: As you, and many of the loyal High Octane following, know… Mr. Hollywood and I are not strangers in the squared circle. From singles bouts… to tag titles, may they rest in peace, exchanges…

For a split second, the smirk turns into a sneer, before Doozer’s face turns emotionless.

Doozer: Briguy and I have plenty of experience exchanging blows. And tonight won’t be any different in that regard. But it will be different in other ways. I can’t speak for the Greedy Git who’ll stand in the opposite corner of the ring, I can tell you that Alcatraz, even for the shortest of stays, can change a person.

The Dooze breaks focus from the camera and looks at Blaire.

Doozer: Imagine sitting in a cell filled with pictures of your former tag partner, showcasing all his successes since you split, unable to sleep because your buddy in the next cell’s belly keeps rumbling like rolling thunder, all while a dumbass named Wahl stomps around on a power trip despite being a fourth generation who gives a fuck.

Blaire’s eyes and mouth open, as her shoulders rise up and she shakes her head speechless.

Doozer: Yeah. It’s a lot. And it gave me plenty to think about, since that’s pretty much all I could do. So while Doozer versus Hollywood is nothing new, or different in the land of High Octane… my approach tonight will be.

Dooze nods his head, returning his focus to the camera in front of him, as Blaire tries to erase the horror from inside her head of having to stay in a cell next to Bobby Dean.

Doozer: Tonight, this Old Bull goes back to school, if you will. It’s not just about Me against Hollywood. Honestly, I could care less about beating Brian tonight. What I will do, however, is throw some curves at my old sparring partner and take note of how he reacts. Because if his stay at Alcatraz was anything like mine, he’s changed some too. And I’m gonna figure out how. Then, my eyes are gonna be glued to Bobby Dean versus Scottywood. Then Dresden versus Jeff.

The Bean Town Bruiser spits off to the side, away from Moise, but the act still causes her to jump.

Doozer: See, tonight is all about studying for the match that matters… when the Seven Deadly Sins face off at Rumble at the Rock. Because come October 30th, it’s time to start turning the tide of Envy at High Octane. It’s time to show everyone what The Dooze is truly capable of… It’s time to prove who was the better Bandit… and once my hand gets raised at the end of that match, and I go on to win High Octane’s World Championship…

An almost sinister smile crawls across the old man’s face.

Doozer: I’ll finally prove to the Hollywood’s out there that hiding in the shadows of Cancer Jiles. I was waiting. And when we get to ARE-AYE-TEE-ARE… Mark my words…

The Dooze leans into the camera so all you can see is his face, and his burning blue eyes.

Doozer: The wait is over……..and the journey starts in a mere few moments when I walk thru that fucking curtain to take on that greedy ass Brian Hollywood.

With that the Doozer walks off and heads towards the entrance area as his match is next!

#12 Brian Hollywood vs. #18 Doozer

Greed vs. Envy

The crowd in the Target center erupts at the sound of the timekeeper’s bell. Bryan McVay walks into the center of the ring to beginning introductions.

Bryan McVay:  The following contest is scheduled for one fall!  Introducing first, from Los Angeles, California.  Weighing tonight at 225 pounds; he is BRIIIIIIIIIIIIIAN HOOOOOOOOLLLLLYWOOOOOOD!

“Stronger on your Own” by Disturbed blares over the PA. Hollywood slowly walks from the back and takes center stage. He stands there for a few brief moments, closing his eyes. He reigns in the boos from the crowd. Hollywood makes his final mental preparations for his match with Doozer. Hollywood’s eyes open up examining the pyro shooting off from opposite corners of the stage. A sinister smirks sneers over his face as he makes his way to the ring. The camera zooms on the devilish look on the deranged, greedy executive’s face. Quickly taking off his vest, Hollywood throws it down with intensity.  Brian rolls under the ropes before slowly rising to his feet at a methodical pace.  He gazes the arena, cracking his knuckles before going to his corner to await Doozer.

Joe Hoffman:  You know I’ve seen every one of Brian Hollywood’s matches over the past few years.  But I can say without a shadow of a doubt; I’ve never seen this side of him.

Benny Newell:  Greed changes people, Hoffman.  It makes them do sick and twisted things.  Hollywood’s tired of missing out on all the wealth.  Losses in HOW cost you money.  It’s the one thing Hollywood’s learned after all his streak of concussions and losses these past 3 years.

Joe Hoffman:  This match is a must win for both men heading into Rumble at the Rock.  It swings some momentum in their favor for the 7 Deadly Sins match.

Benny Newell:  Damn straight it will!  I can drink to that!

Silence falls on Target Center as the pomp and circumstances end. Doozer out from behind the HOV to a chorus of cheers.  He pumps up the crowd trying pull more energy in from them.   He stops to prepare one final time before stepping into the ring with Hollywood. His breaths are calm, and his composure remains focused. Deep in his heart, Doozer knows he must pull out this win against Hollywood. Doozer’s head twists and turns taking in all the sights of the arena. A smile graces Doozer’s face as he strides down to the ring.

Bryan McVay:  And his opponent, from Boston, Massachusetts.  Weighing in at 273 Pounds; he is DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOZER!

Benny Newell:  FUCK!  Fire the production people NOW!  Once again, they forget to give old Dooze a ring entrance!

Joe Hoffman:  It’s intentional today, Benny.  Doozer wants to show Hollywood that Greed doesn’t blind him.  He doesn’t need to spend a lot of money on a flashy ring entrance to win.  He only needs his fists and his skills.

Benny Newell:  Don’t bullshit me, Hoffhole.  Doozer ENVIES Hollywood’s flare.  It’s his fuckin’ sin!

Joe Hoffman:  I cannot speak to that, but what we do know is that Doozer has been more focused on one Cancer Jiles more than anything else and one has to wonder just how prepared he is for this match with Hollywood.

As Doozer makes it down the ramp, his eyes lock onto a “I Came Here To See Cool Cancer Jiles” sign.  Peering around the building more, he finds a fan cosplaying as his former friend.  Sweat starts to roll down Doozer’s forehead as he makes his way into the ring.  Meanwhile, Hollywood’s licking his mouth, sensing the blood.

Joe Hoffman:  I don’t like where Hollywood’s mind is going.

Benny Newell:  Yeah and he doesn’t like you judging him either, Hoffman.  Hollywood’s won various championships in HOW with this mindset.

Matt Boettcher slides into the ring to greet both competitors.  He calls both competitors to the center of the ring.  Doozer extends his hand for a handshake, but Hollywood hawks a big loogie right in Doozer’s face.  Wasting no time, Doozer clocks Hollywood straight in the temple with a right hand.  Failing to regain control, Boettcher motions for the bell as this contest has kicked off.

DING!  DING!  DING!

Continuing with his momentum, Doozer nails Hollywood with a clothesline. Forearm after forearm flies across Hollywood’s temple as Doozer unleashes his rage. Doozer scoops Hollywood off the mat and nails a stiff Body Slam on him. Doozer’s feet move fast as he hits the ropes catching more speed. The former Egg Bandit leaps into the air, dropping a hellacious knee on Hollywood’s skull.

Benny Newell:  Geez, Doozer!  Let the jealousy go!  You don’t have to kill Hollywood because he’s won more World Championship than you have.

Joe Hoffman: There’s no love lost between these men. Their rivalry has only grown more intense in the Refueled era.  Hollywood’s taken Tag Team Championships from Doozer and buried him under rubble.  Doozer’s stopped Hollywood’s momentum on a few occasions.  It’s a vicious cycle between these two combatants.

WHAM!

Hollywood’s head slams against the mat, thanks to Doozer’s bulldog. Doozer charges up as Hollywood picks himself off the mat. As Dooze attempts an uppercut, the Deranged Executive dodges the attempt. Brian ducks under and crashes shoulder first straight into Doozer’s knee. Buckling under the pressure, Doozer drops down to the ground. Hollywood’s wit kicks in as he scoops Doozer off the mat. Carrying his longtime rival over to the ropes, Hollywood drops Dooze throat first on them. Hollywood takes a moment to wipe the spit away from his mouth, admiring his work.  Brian unleashes a flurry of knees to his opponent’s ribcage until Boettcher stops it.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

FOUR!

FIIIIIIII….

Relenting in a reluctant fashion, Hollywood steps away from the fallen Egg.  Psyche!  He rushes towards Doozer with a stiff baseball slide and sends him flying to the outside.

Joe Hoffman: Hollywood’s more dangerous on the outside of the ring. Boettcher better restore some order into this match! Otherwise, this crazed corporate maniac could severely injure poor Doozer.

Benny Newell:  Poor Doozer?!  He gets what he deserves after these last three years.  He constantly tortured Lee Best with stupid Egg Puns.  I hope Hollywood scrambles him.

CRASH!

Hollywood sends Doozer shoulder first into the ring steps with brute force. Mr. Executive Himself locks eyes with the Cosplaying Jiles fan.  His smile grows more nefarious with each step. Yanking Doozer’s ear as hard as he can, Hollywood guides Doozer over to him.  Hollywood smashes Doozer’s head against the barricade before taunting his prey.

Brian Hollywood:  You see this!  You can NEVER be JILES!  You will NEVER be like me.  You will NEVER be the HOW World Champion, you worthless…

Joe Hoffman:  Doozer’s elbow collides with Hollywood’s sternum.  The momentum in this match is shifting back into Doozer’s favor.

Benny Newell:  Don’t you dare do it, Doozer!  I see that look in his eyes.  That’s Kostoff’s training in action.  Doozer’s about to destroy Hollywood.  Don’t you wreck our National Treasure, you egg chucking yolkal!

The Dooze chucks Hollywood head first into the stairs as Boettcher reaches FIVE. The Boston native wastes no time in scooping up Hollywood’s body off the ground. Doozer flings Hollywood back first into the steel steps with a snap suplex. Dooze rolls into the ring and goes back out unleashing more punches onto Hollywood’s skull. He scoops Hollywood back up.  Without any hesitation, he charges his opponent shoulder first into the turnbuckle.  Hollywood barely slides away and smashes Doozer’s head into the cold steel.

The Deranged Executive tosses his rival back into the ring. He locks in a grueling headlock, suffocating the former Bandit as best as he can. But Doozer’s back on the offense. He powers back to his legs and nails a sick looking Back Body Drop of the Former Two Time HOW World Champion. Hollywood attempts to get back to his feet but cannot do it.  Doozer snaps his neck back, hitting a picture-perfect Throwback.

Joe Hoffman:  Doozer’s channeled his envy into pure power.  It looks like the Boston native can’t be stopped right now. He’s going for a Spinebuster…

Benny Newell:  And Hollywood nails him with the cheap shot to Doozer’s eggs.  You can’t count Hollywood out now, Hoffhole.

Hollywood weasels his way around Doozer.  He lifts him up for a German Suplex, but Doozer’s like a cat.  He lands on his feet.  Doozer clocks Hollywood in the back of the neck with a sick looking clothesline.  He wraps his thick forearms against Hollywood’s neck.  Doozer’s sinched in the STF.  Hollywood’s desperately crawls towards the bottom rope and clings on for dear life.  Boettcher starts the count as both men tussle for control.

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THREE!

 

FOUR!

 

Doozer releases the hold.  Boettcher pulls Doozer away from his opponent and lectures him.  Doozer’s eyes light up as he screams at Boettcher.  Hollywood catches Doozer off guard with a Neckbreaker.  Brian rips Doozer off the mat and sends him shoulder first into the turnbuckle.  Hollywood maneuvers Doozer to the ground and stomps at his face with ferocity.  Hollywood runs to the other side of the ring before slinging his body like a cannonball at Doozer.  Brian doesn’t relent and continues the frenzy of cannonballs before Dooze rolls out of the way.  Cracking his neck, Doozer signals he’s had enough of this.  He grabs Hollywood and hits a Fisherman’s Suplex on him.  Boettcher goes for the count.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THR….

 

Hollywood kicks out at the last second.  Doozer’s fists shake in a violent manner. He lets out a primal screen and signals for his finisher:  You Can’t Yolk Me.  He rushes towards the ropes, preparing his fist.  As his fist almost collides with Hollywood’s skull, Hollywood pokes Doozer in the eyes. Doozer sells the pain for a moment.  Meanwhile Hollywood’s signing the papers.

Benny Newell:  Oh hell yes!  It’s been a long time since we’ve seen Hollywood unleash the Executive Promise.  He’s going to knock that baffoon’s head off into Section 214.

Joe Hoffman:  C’mon Doozer!  You’ve seen this move thousands of times before tonight.  You can do it.

Hollywood’s foot flies up in the air…

 

 

 

 

WHACK!

Joe Hoffman:  Sweet Jesus!  Doozer’s ducked under Hollywood’s leg and nails one ruthless clothesline.  He’s turned Hollywood inside out!

The crowd comes unglued as Doozer wastes no time.  He scoops up Hollywood on his shoulders for a Fireman’s Carry.  This is it!  The EggU is about to go down!  Doozer launches Hollywood off his shoulders.

 

 

 

 

WHAM!!!!

 

 

 

Joe Hoffman:  What the heck just happened!  I can’t believe it!  I can’t believe what I am seeing!  Hollywood just reversed out of that, ran like a mad man and nailed the Danger Zone…

Benny Newell:  Fuck you Hoffhole!  Get the move right!  He just nailed the Executive Decree right on Doozer’s head.  That boot’s sicker than a fucking 80’s movie reference you bastard.  Now look at the former HOW World Champion’s eyes.  He’s not satisfied with just that.

Hollywood wastes no time in scooping Doozer off the mat.  He runs at the ropes again nailing a second Claymore—making his executive decree known.  He covers the lifeless Doozer’s body on the mat as Boettcher calls out the count.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THREE!

 

DING!  DING!  DING! DING!

 

Bryan McVay:  Here is your winner via pinfall in 12 minutes:  BRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIAAAAAAAAAN HOOOOOOOOOOLLLLLLLYWOOOOOOOOOD!

Boettcher goes to raise up Hollywood’s hand in the air.  Before Mr. Executive Himself can finish, Kevin Capone storms the ring. Hollywood rolls out of the ring and takes up camp on the far side of the ring as he watches Capone slide into the ring.

Joe Hoffman: Capone clearly did NOT forget what Doozer did last week!!

Capone wastes no time with his opportunity.  He wastes no time and quickly locks in his patented Gogoplatta on the lifeless Doozer’s neck.  HOW officials begin rushing past the gloating Hollywood to save Doozer.

Joe Hoffman:  Get Capone off Doozer right now!  He’s had enough damage inflicted upon him.

Benny Newell:  It serves that Eggless bastard right!   After last week, Capone needs to make an example out of Doozer.  He drove Capone’s poor head into the mat. An eye for an eye Joe…..all that biblical shit rolled up into some 97red shit.

Rage fills Capone’s eyes as the officials swarm him.  He locks the move in tighter each time they protest.  As Doozer’s eyes roll into the back of his head and his face turns blue, Kevin releases the hold.  His face looks justified as he stands there somber, admiring his work.

Meanwhile, Hollywood stands there just smirking at what happened to his RATR opponent.

Joe Hoffman: Another lucky advantage for Mr. Executive himself.

We cut back to the ring one last time as HOW officials carry off Doozer.  Capone just stands there like a stone wall in the middle of the ring as we see Brian Hollywood staring down the man as well as we cut away.

The Jattinum Standard

The scene cuts backstage to Brian Bare standing next to the HOW Classic, Jatt Starr (who is sporting his plaid 97red and black suit without a shirt on).

BRIAN BARE:  Jatt Starr, how are you feeling considering tonight you will be squaring off against Conor Fuse for the HOW World Championship?

JATT STARR:  Nervous.

There is awkward pause as Brian Bare anticipates the Jattinum Standard to discuss the matter at length, instead, the Savior of Starrkham remains silent.

BRIAN BARE:  Okay, so, what are your thoughts on Conor Fuse’s claims that he orchestrated the assault on you with Dan Ryan at “War Games”?

JATT STARR:  Let’s not sugarcoat this, he wasn’t “claiming” anything.   He’s downright bragging about it.  That’s fine, a dirty move, trying to cripple someone.  But it didn’t work, here the Ruler of Jattlantis stands, the anxiety mounting.  The HOW World Championship on the line.  An opportunity that I may never see again.   And what do I have to look forward to?  The HOW fans in attendance actively rooting for the man that tried to end my career.  Do you know what that tells me?

BRIAN BARE:  What?

JATT STARR:  That my opinion of the HOW fans is correct.  They are the garbage juice at the bottom of a dumpster in the seediest area of New York City during a massive heatwave and a sanitation strike.    I try to do the right thing, I offer healthy options to the fans but they don’t give a rat’s rectum.  They want to down third rate beer full of empty calories and clog their arteries with hot dogs and processed nacho cheese.  But they’ve always been against me, Bare.

BRIAN BARE:  I don’t think that’s—-

JATT STARR:  They look at Conor Fuse as some sort of hero.  Heroes don’t try to ambush and maim their enemies.  And they certainly don’t have some fourth rate goon do the actual maiming.  Those are the actions of a villain.

BRIAN BARE:  The fans don’t seem to thing—-

JATT STARR:   I fought hard to get back in the ring.  Is tonight’s Championship match just a little parting gift, like a lifetime suppy of fucking turtle wax, given to me by Lee Best because he’s such a swell guy?   Hell no!  I’ve earned this shot.  I’ve earned all of my opportunities.  I came into the HOW getting my ass handed to me week after week by Smokey! You remember him?  And you know what?  I didn’t give up, when I had my shot at a title against Omar Rasheem and Darkwing, I took advantage of the opportunity and won.   I’ve been underestimated for most of my career….by Lee, by the fans, by Darkwing, Kostoff, Aceldama, Lindsay Troy….and I’ve made them all eat their words.  Tonight is no different.  Conor Fuse might be the golden boy right now, but after tonight, he’ll just be a pile of shit.

BRIAN BARE:  I think we should discuss the ramifications tonight, should you win, you could be facing Mike Best at—-

JATT STARR:  Tonight isn’t about Mike Best.  But since you brought it up, I will say this, as far as Mike Best is concerned, yeah, I’m nervous about tonight….because I know that if I win, I might have to face him again.  I have never beaten Mike Best one-on-one….at least not since he took the “Best” name.  I know what can happen.

The King of Jatten Island takes the microphone from Brian Bare and turns to the camera, no longer acknowledging the presence of Brian Bare.

JATT STARR:  So, Conor, after I take that title from you, I want you to thank me.  I want you to get on your knees and thank me for saving your career…hell, your life!!!   I want you to thank the Jattlantic City Idol for taking your place at “Rumble at the Rock”.  I want you to thank me for allowing you to continue your obsolete little life of video game delusions.   I want you to thank me for preventing you from suffering the abuse and agony, the physical and emotional scars that Mike Best is known to inflict on those who cross his path.  Some claim that Kostoff was the biggest monster in the HOW?  No, it’s Mike Best.  Trust me, I know.   I know all too well.   So Conor, because I will be too busy celebrating to hear you, I want to say…..You’re Welcome.

The Ruler of Jattlantis tosses the mic back to Brian Bare, who bobbles it for a bit before finally catching it, and leaves walks off camera leaving Brian Bare as the scene comes to an end and we cut to a commercial break.

World Championship Match
Michael Lee Best vs. World Champion©

Iron Man Match for the LSD Championship
??? vs. John Sektor©

HOTv Championship Match
Clay Byrd vs. Jace Parker Davidson©

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

Epic Aggression

Coming back from the commercial, we are backstage in the Target Center and see the returning HOW Hall of Famer Bobbinette Carey. Next to her is fellow Hall of Famer, Frankie the Cameraman who is snapping photos of The Queen for her Instagram profile.

The Queen: Why???? Why Carey? Why did The Queen turn her back on us?

The fake whine is totally obvious as Carey stares back at Frankie for a few more quick shots.

The Queen: Why? Why? Because for years and years, I did everything for you all! I came out here week after week busting my ass in the ring. Playing some role of savior… for a place that we all know is well beyond saving.

The Queen: But the fans were soooooo good to you.

Mocks Carey as she rolls her eyes and shakes her head.

The Queen: But were you really? Were you really?!? Cause I remember the whack-o-meter.

The HOV cuts from Carey and we see Mario Maurko and his whack o meter appear. The crowd bursts into cheers as we cut back to Carey backstage.

The Queen: There it is! There is your true ugly selves. I’d get hit and you creeps would cheer and count. I married him and you all were overjoyed. And you have the audacity to sit here now and ask me why?!

The crow starts booing.

The Queen: Then you ask why Scottywood. Seriously? A formerly epic teammate. A former Knight of Epicness? How dumb do you have to be to ask why? Because who else in this cesspool is worth the honor of serving with The Queen? He certainly never cheered Mario’s blatant abuse… his beating me down and down until I felt like a shell of the person I am. The Bobbinette Carey that won War Games and the HOW World Title in 2008! But that is in the past and hashtag Free Carey is going to be trending when the true Bobbinette Carey returns to that ring

Again the crowd boos Carey as we can hear a faint Reynolds chant… and no, not for Sutler.

The Queen: So yes, me and Scotty, teaming up one more time. We are two legends. Two Hall of Famers. The Hardcore Artist, despite his constant drinking, is one of the few real people left in HOW. Not these fake ass queens, these self proclaimed usurpers. I left a legacy here in HOW, a blue print for others to follow. Imagine my disappointment that no one has lived up to it. It’s why I resisted coming back, I couldn’t stand what HOW has become. But look at Scottywood! He won his first match in how long, beating Bobby Dean. All he needed was a royal hand…

Scottywood: Phrasing Carey…

Walking into the shot is The Hardcore Artist, holding the hockey stick he buldgened Bobby Dean with earlier tonight, still with chunks of his fat flesh stuck to it. She shakes her head from side to side with his comment as he cracks open an Insight Brewing Troll Way IPA and takes a satisfying victory drink.

The Queen: That isn’t a thing any more. Phrasing faded out with Jatt Starr’s popularity.

Scottywood: Jatt Starr versus Bobbinette Carey for the World Title… next week on the 2009 edition Monday Night Mayhem!

The Queen: Everything old is new again which means we are uberly back in style and a matter of time till we are back on top!

Scottywood: Jesus fucking Anti-Christ Carey!

The Queen: We are epic-

Scottywood: Absolutely fucking not!

Frankie: What about CareyWood?

The Queen: No! It sounds like I have a boner.

Scottywood: You do claim to have the biggest blackest dick… so Carey Against Humanity?

The Queen: We will figure this out later. The important fact is that we are back and no fucks are given!

Scottywood: Nah, names aren’t important, but actions like taking my pound of very unneeded flesh from that ignorant fuck Bobby Dean are important. Underestimate me again Bobby and I’ll make sure the sharks around Alcatraz have a feeding fenzy on your fat blubbery carcass after I fucking murder you on my island!

Finishing his can of beer, Scotty tosses the empty to Frankie who quickly hands The Hardcore Artist a fresh one to crack open.

Scottywood: Oh and don’t worry, since my promos may give you nightmares now, I had the doctors order you some actual Ambien for when you wake up. Something to help ya until the next time I can put you back to fucking sleep with another Game Misconduct.

Bobbinette holds up the “one second finger to Scottywood, he follows her and we see a look-a-like of one Mario Maurko, Minnesota’s favorite son. The crowd starts cheering just at the likeness of Mario. Bobbinette reappears with a whack o meter and starts hitting the look-a-like Mario.

The Queen: how do you fucking like it?!

She hits him repeatedly as Scottywood stands back drinking watching her hit him over and over as the camera cuts back to ringside as the crowd can be heard booing as Carey continues to take out years of pent up aggression towards Mario on this random Minnesota poor soul.

#12 Jeffrey James Roberts vs. #12 Eli Dresden

Wrath vs. Lust

We cut to the Hall of Fame announce team as it is time for our next match.

Benny Newell: Before we get to newest member of the “Cause Florida” congregation, can we at least ask the question of how many mobby Italian fuckers are here in Minnesota….let alone ones that look like the man with the greatest backhand this side of the Mississippi?

Joe Hoffman: One has to wonder just what the real Mario Maurako was thinking when he saw what just happened backstage with Bobbinette and Scotty.

Benny Newell: I CANNOT wait for his reaction. Ok…..I am ready to get uncomfortably hard with this next match.

Joe Hoffman: Eli Dresden is as tough as they come, ask your buddy Jace Parker Davidson how everything ended for him.

Benny Newell: We don’t talk about that Joe, it’s embarrassing.

Joe Hoffman: Let’s send this one down to Bryan McVay.

Bryan McVay: Currently being held at 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 has a new accessory this week, his leather muzzle is strapped tightly to his head.

Joe Hoffman: Jesus Benny, they had to Muzzle this lunatic for his heinous attack on Darin Zion last week.

Benny Newell: All bets are off when he gets to that ring though!

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.

Bryan McVay: and from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania! Eli Dresden!

The chorus of ‘Never Look Back’ hits the sound system as the overhead lights dim, blue and white lights flashing along the rampway as spotlights of similar shades swirl over the crowd. Eliza Dresden waits all of a second before she bounds onto the stage, her energy levels already through the roof thanks to the cheers –and that’s with her holding a lot of it in. Stopping at the top of the ramp, she thrusts a fist in the air… but she can’t be idle for long. She all but bounces and poings her way down to the ring, darting from side to side to slap offered hands and otherwise play to the crowd, earning a decent amount of cheers as she goes along. It’s about three-fourths of the way down the ramp that she abandons that, speeding up to slide into the ring headfirst on her stomach before she twists onto her back and kips up to her feet. She’s quick to mount the nearest turnbuckle, once again shoving a fist skyward to more of that positive reaction from the fans before she’s popping back down and turning to look toward the middle of the ring. As her music fades, she continues bouncing around on the balls of her feet, eagerly waiting for the match to get underway.

Joel Hortega comes over and checks JJR for any foreign objects, after being satisfied he motions for the closest EPU member to come into the ring and unlock Roberts’ muzzle.

Joe Hoffman: I never thought I’d see this in High Octane…

Benny Newell: Joe we saw dogs in gimp suits at one point….I am just saying.

Joe Hoffman: Still, it is the first time I’ve ever seen a person having a muzzle removed to wrestle.

Dresden starts fast running in on Jeffrey James Roberts. He dodges to the side as Dresden stops herself from running into the corner. Dresden turns around and gets drilled across the mouth by an elbow. Dresden grimaces and gets out of the corner by rolling under the next strike.

Joe Hoffman: Eli Dresden off to the ropes!

She comes back and goes for a drop kick. Roberts grabs her by the legs and slams her to the mat. Dresden tries to scramble to the outside while JJR reigns down boots to her back.

Benny Newell: Man it’s awesome to watch this guy work.

Dresden waits for Hortega to back JJR to the middle of the ring before springing to the apron. Roberts charges in, but Dresden hits him with a shoulder block to the midsection. Roberts backs off dazed as Dresden springboards off the top rope and goes for a hurricanrana. JJR stops the move mid spin and plants Dresden to the canvas with a huge powerbomb.

Joe Hoffman: Nasty fall for Dresden there! Looks like she landed on her head.

Benny Newell: HAHA! He dropped that bitch like a bad habit!

Roberts is quick to get to work and steps over in a sharpshooter position without turning. He folds Dresden’s legs under his arm to lock them in and grabs both of her arms pulling back with all his strength!

Benny Newell: He’s gonna take one of those with him!

Dresden screams in pain and shakes her head no, multiple times. She tries to struggle and free herself, but Roberts leans back harder. Dresden frantically begins to tap out on the side of Roberts.

Hortega quickly signals for the bell as Dresden continues to tap.

DING DING

Bryan McVay: And your winner by submission Jeffrey James Robeeeerrrttts

Back in the ring Roberts lets go of the hold and quickly presses his left elbow directly into the back of the neck of Dresden and the man extends his body and legs out so that he is literally lying on top of the woman as he begins whispering into her ear.

Joe Hoffman: Get the heck in the ring EPU!!!!!!!!

As if on cue, the EPU guards all slide into the ring and rush towards Roberts………but they do not get there in time.

Roberts stops whispering and as he sees the EPU guards slide into the ring, he pushes down even more violently down on the back of Dresden’s neck and licks her neck………and as the first EPU guard reaches him……..he leans further in and bites down between the womans neck and right shoulder.

Benny Newell: Holy fuck…..

The first onrushing guard tackles him off Eli and as he does we see flesh tear away as Roberts refuses to unclench his jaw.

As the EPU guards pile on Roberts in the corner of the ring, once again HOW medics are forced to rush into the ring as we see blood spilling from the right collarbone area of Dresden.

The crowd is completely silent as we see the EPU guards drag Roberts violently under the bottom rope and quickly shackle his hands behind his back as two additional guards quickly put the muzzle back on the man’s mouth.

The cameras quickly cut away as they stand the man up and see just how excited he was with his actions.

Benny Newell: I have seen ALOT of porn…….but never have I seen……THAT.

Joe is speechless as we cut away.

Respect?

We cut to the backstage area where Brian Bare is standing in front of a cameraman. He fiddles with the collar of his shirt while holding the microphone in his free hand. Noticing that we’re live he raises the microphone up to his lips and clears his throat.

Bare: Ladies and gentlemen I echo Benny’s comments as I too have seen and DONE a lot of things…..but wow. We might see Roberts locked up until RATR after a second consecutive week of post match…….bites? I dunno…maybe someone should get him to go out to eat with Bobby? Dude is HANGRY! But that is not why I am here………Please welcome the #1 ranked wrestler in HOW and the current HOTv Champion Jace Parker Davidson.

The crowd here in Minnesota gives a mixed reaction as Jace walks into camera view with the HOTv Championship displayed proudly around his waist.

Bare: Later tonight you defend the HOTv…

Jace interrupts Bare before he can finish.

JPD:  Let me just say that I have seen a ton of shit in my time here in High Octane Wrestling and the way folks are overreacting to Roberts is pathetic. We have seen A LOT worse here in HOW…..and I know what you’re going to say Bare.  Yes, I have been on FIRE lately. Special shout out to the 75 pathetic assholes following MVW. However, before we get to why I am really here…..I need to talk about earlier tonight.

Jace grabs the microphone from Bare’s grasp then turns towards the camera.

JPD: Michael Lee Best…

Another loud mixed reaction from the crowd in Minnesota.

JPD: I heard what you had to say earlier tonight inside of that ring and I gotta say you really must think that your shit doesn’t stink. You empathize with me and people like me here backstage? That’s the bullshit you’re going with this week? It’s bad enough you have the audacity to walk around calling yourself a King. But now you’re strutting around saying I’m the King of Everything below the upper midcard?

Jace shakes his head and chuckles sarcastically.

JPD: That’s cute but let me tell you, no one back here cares whether you’ve lost only three matches since 2015. The fact is no matter how many times you tell us you “kneed” Jiles so hard it broke the cage the fact remains you still lost. The fact remains that while you claim that you’ve been busting your ass and improving since 2015. All you did to get to be #1 contender was knee an unarmed blind man in the side of the head in the fucking opener of Bottomline. The fact remains that you can say what you want about me and this title around my waist. It doesn’t change the fact that I’m a Champion and you’re not. It doesn’t change the fact that I’m ranked #1 in HOW and you’re not. It doesn’t change the fact I left for five years, came back, and didn’t need Daddy to draw me up a loaded contract to gain my spot.

Jace grips the microphone a little tighter in his hand as he continues.

JPD: Out of respect for the past and Project Ego. Out of respect for our on again, off again friendship I’ve sat back here and watched you prance around singing your own praises. The fact remains that I will get my shot. Be it against Conor, Jatt, or even you. You can be a man. Can you set aside your shot at Rumble at the Rock and let me have what is rightfully mine?

Jace narrows his eyes and speaks in a slower, more deadly tone.

JPD: Or I can come and take it from you myself.

Jace stares daggers into the camera lens before letting out a sigh.

JPD: That brings me to you QT Reese. As you can see I have a lot of balls in the air right now. I have to deal with Michael Lee Best. I have Clay Byrd breathing down my neck.. I have a long list of fallen opponents all looking for a rematch for this Championship belt around my waist. So if there was any time to get me and pull off an upset it would be this week. Tonight in the middle of that ring but I’m not going down without a fight. I hope you’re ready to wrestle the match of your life Reese because that’s what it’s going to take to pry this belt away from me.

Jace reaches down with his free hand and slaps the gold plate of the HOTv Championship belt.

JPD: I’m the longest reigning HOTv Champion this company has ever had. I’ve been undefeated since War Games. I’m #1 ranked for a reason. I’m not just any old opponent. I am wrestling fucking royalty. I’m pissed off and I can’t wait to drop you on your skull then stomp it out like a discarded cigarette butt. So bring your weapons, bring your unwiped asshole, bring the fucking best you got to offer.

The cameraman zooms in a bit on Jace.

JPD: Because if you don’t? The fact will remain that I will walk out of this arena… STILL… your undisputed HOTv Champion.

Jace takes the microphone and shoves it back into the chest of Bare as we head to commercial break.

#1 Jace Parker Davidson vs. #12 QT Reese

HOTv Championship Match

As we come back from commercial, the Hall of Fame duo is ready to call the first of our championship matches.

Joe Hoffman: Welcome back ladies and gentlemen where we are about to have our two title defenses this evening.

Benny Newell: That’s right. Jatt is going to crush that Pokemaster wannabe and restore prestige back to the HOW World championship.

Joe Hoffman: Before that though we see HOTv championship defended.

Benny Newell: Damn right Hoffman. It’s going to be a fucking good one.

Joe Hoffman: Jace has been white hot since returning to HOW and he’s really asserted his dominance once he became the HOTv champion.

Benny Newell: The King of Everything has been on FIRE…..per his previous comments this evening.

Joe Hoffman: That was such a vile thing to say in light of the things that happened at the Staples Center.

Benny Newell: Shut the fuck up!

Joe remains professional…hardly his first time being yelled at by Benny.

We cut to Bryan McVay who is ready in the ring.

Bryan McVay: This match is set for one fall……

Crowd: ONE FALL!

Bryan McVay: AND IT IS FOR THE HIGH OCTANE TELEVISION CHAMPIONSHIP!

The crowd cheers in anticipation for the title match.

Bryan McVay: Introducing first………

“Domino Dancing” by the Pet Shop Boys begins to play over the loud speaker bringing a mixed reaction from the crowd.

Joe Hoffman: Here comes our official sponsor…..

Benny Newell: Shut the fuck up Hoffman as I’ll take it from here.

Benny cuts Hoffman off as he turns his Christmas Hat around to display the ReeseMart logo as QT Reese makes his way onto the stage.

Benny Newell: That’s right germs and sluts you too can get your official Benny Hoffman Christmas Hat at your nearest Reesemart. What’s that I’m wearing?

Benny puts on a 97 Red leather jacket.

Benny Newell: For 97 dollars you too can have this leather jacket from ReeseMart, BUT WAIT! THAT’S NOT ALL!

Benny begins to smile devilishly.

Benny Newell: A Pimp named Rufus Jackson may have all the hoes, but ReeseMart has a 1-800-Pik-A-Hoe service that you can pick any hooker you want. They may not have their front teeth, but at least they are clean!

Joe Hoffman: Benny!

Benny Newell: If It works for Big Buff it’ll work for you!

Hoffman can only shake his head as the challenger is introduced.

Bryan McVay: From Corner Brook, New Foundland, Canada and weighing in at 153 lbs….he is the OWNER OF REESEMART AND OUR OFFICIAL SPONSOR!…..QT! REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESE!

Reese tosses ReeseMart shirts to the crowd as he heads to the ring.

Benny Newell: THROW IT HERE! OVER HERE! GO FIGHT THAT FAT SLOB HOFFMAN AND GET ME A T-SHIRT!

As QT kicks back in the corner…. 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.

Bryan McVay: And his opponent, from Miami, FL and weighing in at 253 lbs….he is the REIGNING! AND DEFENDING! HOTV CHAMPION…….THE KING OF EVERYTHING! JACE! PARKER! DAAAAAAAAVIIIIIIDSOOOOOOOOON!

Jace looks out at the crowd and soaks in the reception as he raises his newly won championship above his head before locking arms with Madison.

Joe Hoffman: Jace is known as the King of Everything and he has shown that ever since he became a champion once more in HOW.

Benny Newell: Yes he has Hoffman, but it seems he’s more preoccupied with what Michael Lee Best is doing. Maybe he should focus more on the championship that he has instead of focusing on who is challenging for the World title, or why hasn’t he been given a new one, or finish your promos before you sit down to watch football.

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.

Benny Newell: These filth better show some respect to the King.

Hopping down Jace goes to his corner and begins to stretch before the match starts.

Ding. Ding.

Joe Hoffman: And here we go…..

QT and Jace come out of their respective corners and meet up in the center of the ring.

Joe Hoffman: What’s this?

QT extends his out hand to his opponent and motions for Jace to shake it. The King looks down at it before looking back at QT and shakes his head no.

Benny Newell: Come on Jace. Shake the man’s hand.

QT urges again and motions like it on the up and up, but the champion slaps the challenger’s hand away and QT nods in disappointment before rearing back and launching a loogie at the champion. However, the King saw it a mile away and pulls Hortega in front of him who gets spit on instead.

Joe Hoffman: That’s nice.

Benny Newell: What did you expect? He should’ve shaken the man’s hand.

Has Hortega is wiping the liquid from his eyes; QT stuns the champion with a thumb to the eye and a Superman punch that sends Jace back into a corner. QT comes at Jace full force with a corner clothesline before bringing his finger to his lips to silence the crowd.

Joe Hoffman: Reese must have something dastardly planned.

Something dastardly indeed as QT knocks the air from Jace’s lungs with a sickening knife edge chop.

Benny Newell: Some get Jace his inhaler quick!

Jace stumbles forward gasping for air, but QT pulls him back towards the corner and continues to light Jace’s chest up with chops. QT pushes Jace’s head back and licks his hand before slapping Jace’s chest with an open handed slap sending the champion chest first to the canvas.

Joe Hoffman: QT not letting Jace breathe literally as he continues his assault of the champion.

QT begins to stomp away at the joints of Jace as he makes his way around the champion’s body. QT reaches the head of Jace and smirks while rubbing the end of his mustache like a 1950s villain before dropping straight down with a seated senton onto the champion’s head. A loud explosion sound is heard coming from QT who simply laughs as he pushes Jace onto his back who is gasping for air.

Benny Newell: Gas masks can also be found at ReeseSmart.

Cover.

Uno.

Dos.

No.

Jace is able to get the shoulder up in time.

Joe Hoffman: QT with a near fall following a fart.

Benny Newell: Better out than in as I always say.

QT looks a little disappointed but simply shrugs and as he reaches down to pick up the champion, Jace quick kicks him in the face.

Joe Hoffman: Jace has stunned QT, and the champion needs to capitalize on the opening.

Benny Newell: It still looks like he is still feeling the effects of that brutalizing fart. ReeseMart gas masks for only $19.97 will save you from Stankonia.

Reese charges at the recovering champion with a clothesline, but Jace ducks underneath and grabs QT by the back of his head and drops down.

Joe Hoffman: Neckbreaker!

Jace rolls backwards on top of QT and begins delivering right hands to the owner of ReeseMart from the mount position. After about six or seven punches, Jace jumps straight up and delivers a double stomp to the chest of QT driving the air out of his body.

Benny Newell: Turnabout is fair play. DRINK!

Cover.

Uno.

Dos.

Tre…..

No.

QT kicks out before the count of tres.

Joe Hoffman: Jace almost caught QT napping there.

Benny Newell: For nap time, ReeseMart sells nice hammocks for $39.97.

Jace builds up a head of steam and delivers a vicious knee to the back of QT’s head.

Joe Hoffman: V-Trigger!

Jace quickly follows up the attack by pulling Reese to his feet and throwing him to the nearest corner and delivering a jumping knee to his opponent’s face. Jace wraps his arms around the side of QT’s head and runs forward driving his face into the mat.

Joe Hoffman: Bulldog!

Benny Newell: ReeseMart has big bags of dog food for only $19.97. Great for all your bulldog needs.

Cover.

Uno.

Dos.

No.

QT pops the shoulder up and immediately, Jace locks in a reverse chinlock to his opponent.

Joe Hoffman: Jace trying to wear down and ground QT before he finishes him off.

Benny Newell: You show Jace a microphone I’m sure he’ll finish himself off alright.

Joe Hoffman: BENNY!

Benny Newell: What?

Jace yells at Hortega to ask him, but the official says no. Jace begins to drive elbows to the neck and shoulder area of QT before hopping up and drilling the challenger in the back of the head with a dropkick.

Cover.

Uno.

Dos.

No!

QT kicks out once again.

Joe Hoffman: Frustration starting to build for the champion.

Jace spins to his feet and measures QT before looking to deliver a superkick.

Joe Hoffman: Jace looking to knock QT’s head off with a super…..oh my!

QT splits out to avoid the attack and he channels Jean Claude Van Damme from Bloodsport as he delivers a punch to The King’s crown jewels.

Benny Newell: That reminds me, nutcrackers are on sale at ReeseMart for $9.97.

Hortega quickly begins to yell at QT for the illegal blow, but Reese repeats over and over that it was an accident.

Joe Hoffman: I don’t know if it was an accident, but QT got away with one there.

Benny Newell: Hoffman, I will revoke your ReeseMart discount if you continue to slander our sponsor’s good name.

QT picks up Jace and whips him towards the ropes, but the champion jumps onto the second rope and springboards back looking for a cutter.

Joe Hoffman: QT CAUGHT HIM!

QT delivers an atomic drop to the champion and Jace stumbles forward holding his butt.

Benny Newell: Jace may have shit himself there Hoffman.

Jace stumbles forward and leans against the ropes and QT builds a head of steam and is looking to kick Jace head in with a running boot, but the King pulls the top rope down and Reese goes flying over and to the floor below.

Joe Hoffman: QT spilled to the outside and what is Jace doing?

The champion waits for QT to start getting up before hitting the ropes himself and dives through the middle knocking QT against the security barrier.

Joe Hoffman: Suicide Dive by the champion!

As QT lays against the barricade, Jace drives his knee into the gut of his opponent. Jace follows it up with driving QT gut first against the ring before whipping him back against the guardrail. Jace repeats this sequence again, but instead of whipping him he waits for QT to stumble backwards to a waiting Jace who takes him down with a jumping neckbreaker.

Benny Newell: The longer this match goes Hoffman, Jace is proving time and time again why he is the Conqueror of everyone.

Jace rolls into the ring and yells at Hortega to count him out.

Uno.

Dos.

Tres.

Cuatro.

QT begins to stir.

Cinco.

Seis.

Siete.

QT is on all fours.

Ocho.

Nueve.

Die…..

QT rolls in at the last second and Jace pounces on his opponent with kicks to the back of QT’s head.

Joe Hoffman: Jace almost had the victory there, but QT Reese showing his grit and determination to become a champion here in HOW.

Benny Newell: He’s our sponsor for a reason Hoffman. If we wanted someone to be easy and on their back all the time we would’ve got Kirsta Lewis to sponsor us.

Jace signals its over as he picks up Reese.

Joe Hoffman: Jace may be looking to twist QT’s reality here.

As Jace gets Reese into position the challenger begins to kick the back of the champion’s head causing Jace to bend forward. QT uses the momentum to lift Jace up and deliver…..

Joe Hoffman: TWISTED REALITY! TWISTED REALITY! QT HIT JACE WITH HIS OLD FINISHER!

Benny Newell: WE HAVE A NEW CHAMP HOFFMAN!

Uno.

Dos.

Tres.

NO!

Jace pops the shoulder and QT can’t believe it as he looks at the official with three fingers extended, but Hortega reaffirms it was a count of dos.

Benny Newell: I thought it was over there Hoffman!

Joe Hoffman: Me too Benny, but listen to the roar of the crowd and they are glad it isn’t over.

Benny Newell: Jace showing time and time again why he is a Hall of Fame caliber talent that has graced a HOW ring.

QT goes to pick the champion up, but Jace continues his defiance as he sends a punch straight into the stomach of QT. QT stumbles back a little and that is all Jace needs to hit a quick spear on the challenger.

Joe Hoffman: Both men are hurting, but the HOTv championship is too important to them to give up now.

Both men eye each other as they get to all fours and they motion for the other to bring it and as they reach their feet, Jace is the first to deliver a right hand. QT follows up with a right hand of his own. Jace delivers a jumping pump kick to the chest of QT that sends him back against the corner. Jace quickly makes his way over and picks up QT and sits him on the top turnbuckle. Jace climbs up to the top and slowly raises QT up before grabbing him and flipping backwards.

Joe Hoffman: SPANISH FLY!

Jace doesn’t go for a cover instead he locks in his rarely used submission hold.

Joe Hoffman: Ascended Slumber is locked in! Jace is pulling out all the stops!

Benny Newell: He’s doing everything he has to, to win.

Joe Hoffman: You’re right Benny, but the question remains will QT tap out?

Hortega asks QT if he wants to give up and HOW’s official sponsor shakes his hand no.

Benny Newell: QT showing he still has some fight left.

QT tries to break out of the anaconda vice by raking the eyes but Jace lifts his head back to prevent the counter. QT reaches up towards Jace’s face again this time with a mandible claw, but the King bites QT’s fingers.

Joe Hoffman: The end may be near!

QT only has one option left and he throws his legs up and wraps them around Jace’s neck and lets out the biggest fart you have ever heard.

Benny Newell: Dear Lee, QT just ripped ass and I think I’m going to puke.

Jace immediately lets go of the submission and begins to cough and dry heave.

Joe Hoffman: Jace may beat you to puking Benny.

QT quickly makes his way over to Jace and places him between his legs and pulls him straight down.

Joe Hoffman: Pulling piledriver by QT onto Jace.

QT grunts in pain as he starts to pull Jace towards the nearest corner.

Benny Newell: Are we gonna see it?

QT makes his way to the top rope and jumps off.

Benny Newell: Ode to Harrison that is a mighty fine Brown Star Press.

Reese yells at Hortega to count.

Uno.

Dos.

Tres.

DING. DING. DING.

Bryan McVay: And your winner by pinfall….AND NEEEEEEEEEW! HOTV CHAMPION…….QT REEEEEEEEEEEEESE

Joe Hoffman: WHAT A MATCH!

Benny Newell: FUCK THE MATCH! WE HAVE A NEW CHAMPION HOFFMAN AND IT’S OUR SPONSOR!

Benny puts on a QT Reese t-shirt of him that says HOTv champion.

Benny Newell: Get your QT Reese championship wear at your local ReeseMart for only $97.

As Benny continues to shill ReeseMart, QT slides out of the ring with the championship held high as he heads up the ramp as shocked crowd looks on at the new champion.

The Way of Chaos

Cutting backstage after the match, we enter the locker room of Darin Zion. Zion plays around with the plastic mask covering his entire face after the result of JJR’s attack on him last week. As Zion’s fingers keep caressing the mask, Meredith slaps the top of his head. Bewilderment glazes all over Zion’s face as Meredith scolds him for messing with the injury.

Meredith: STOP THAT RIGHT NOW! You know the doctor told you NOT to mess with your mask.

Meredith rolls her eyes as Zion begins to lift up his mask at a slow pace. She hauls back and slaps his hand in a stiff manner. The echo of an audible TWHACK resounds throughout the room.

Darin Zion: I’m sorry; I still can’t get used to this! I’ve never had an imperfection or blemish on this face. No one has ever ruined this gorgeous face of mine. Plus I hate this God awful thing jammed up against my face. It traps all the sweat against my face. I hate it!

Meredith: Don’t worry, Darin! You’re only going to have to wear that thing for 3 more weeks. By then your face will look as good as new. You’ll be more kissable than ever!

Meredith kisses Zion on the forehead as he lets out an agitated groan from the depths of his lungs. Darin continues balking at the whole situation in a melodramatic fashion. A sudden knock at the door startles him and Meredith. Before Meredith can scramble off the leather couch, Xander Azula enters the fray.

Zion leaps up from the couch to meet Xander with a huge hug.

Darin Zion: Xander, my man! It’s nice to see you! It’s been forever since we have seen each other. God War Games flew by fast! I’ve missed seeing you after Grapplers Local fell apart.

Xander looks confused by the motion at first. Reluctantly he returns the favor even going so far to pat Zion on the back.

Xander Azula: There there, Zion. Meredith is right, the damage that fiend did to you will fade in time. Let’s get you sorted out in the meantime, okay? How’s your face holding up? Is there anything you need, buddy?

In a depressed state Zion sinks back down into the couch. Zion motions for Meredith to leave the room and she obliges. Xander walks over to the couch, intently listening to Zion. Zion begins spilling out all his scattered thoughts.

Darin Zion: I guess I’m fine unlike my aspirations of winning any singles HOW gold in the foreseeable future. Jeffrey James Roberts effectively murder those dreams last week. It’ll be ages before anyone gives me another chance to win gold. It’s like I’m so close to figuring out what I’m missing right now. I’m only inches away from finding that missing piece to a winning formula. I can’t put my finger on it.

Zion takes in a deep breath before letting out a massive exhale. He scratches his chin trying to ponder it for a moment. Xander rests his hand on Zion’s shoulder, a tone of reassurance in his voice as he speaks.

Xander Azula: I understand completely, Zion. You’ve really proven yourself the past few months. Tracing all the way back to beating the Best Alliance on your own. Your failure to win gold is but a temporary roadblock, my friend.

Zion cuts him off in mid thought.

Darin Zion: If your definition of temporary is 3 years…

Xander raises his hands as if defensive in his reply.

Xander Azula: I get it, buddy. But I want you to consider this. Consider how close you’ve come to really making an impact in these past couple months! One cannot dwell on the past, when the future’s so close.

Darin Zion: I understand, man! I’m not so much focused on my losses any more. Pain’s a temporary journey that only builds more character. I’m content with what I’ve accomplished over these last few months. Hell, a year ago you wouldn’t think I could be a future World Champion. Everyone thought Lee gifted me a spot on this roster.

Zion puts his hands together over his mouth to pause his thoughts. Centering his train of thought, Darin looks up towards the ceiling as he’s speaking.

Darin Zion: To HOW, a content Zion is a dangerous Zion. They’ve never seen this side of me! It makes me less predictable in that ring. Now I want to take it to the next level. Gotta kick off those training wheels figuratively speaking. I’ve tried everything, but I don’t know where I should start.

Xander gives a slow nod in response.

Xander Azula: I understand completely. A body at rest stays at rest, and all that. HOW thinks they know what they’re dealing with when it comes to you, and it’s about time they learn otherwise…right?

Zion nods in firm agreement with Xander. While his body tenses up, Darin’s face manages to hold back his reluctance. A cool, confident look glows from his eyes.

Darin Zion: You’re correct! I’m tired of them looking down on me. They might think I’m the little brother of the bunch, but I’ve held 7 different HOW Championships. Yet everyone scoffs at me like I’m a little runt. In my prime, I was a ring general. I guess after all these years; I failed to evolve with the times and hone my craft. So what do you recommend I do?

Xander’s ears seem to perk up at this, and he reacts accordingly with a friendly smile and a warm tone.

Xander Azula: Well, Zion…as someone who has been through this sort of issue many times in his career, I’ve learned to lean into friendships that go far beyond temporary alliances. It’s why I found myself entrusted to the Eternal Circle, you see…and there is always room in the Eternal Circle.

Zion’s eyes widen to show his skepticism. His tone shifts to a more reserved one as he speaks.

Darin Zion: I’ve heard you speak about the Eternal Circle a lot; is it some sort of religion?

Xander’s smile grows wider at the opportunity to explain further.

Xander Azula: Oh, the Circle is far more than some silly religion, my friend. The way of chaos is one that has reached our hearts for centuries, guiding the way to success in all things. The path our goddess leads us on is one of absolute power, so long as we give our absolute trust in her.

Zion’s mind finishes wandering after Xander’s spiel. Goosebumps run up and down Zion’s body as he nods.

Darin Zion: Fascinating…

With an accelerated pace, Zion leaps off the couch and slaps Xander’s hand with gentle force. Both men exchange a handshake as Darin makes his way to the door.

Darin Zion: I’ll have to think about your offer, Xander. It might have some promise compared to what I’ve been doing. Gimme a bit to ponder on it and I will get back to you on that. Right now, I’ve got a photoshoot to do with Meredith. I’ll catch you on the flip side, buddy.

Zion pats Xander on the back one last time, bailing from his locker room with haste. The camera pans over to Xander’s face. A devilish smile twists from ear to ear over his face. He lets out a maniacal laugh as the camera fades to black.

GSWA

A video package begins to roll showing an open gymnasium area. There are around a dozen young men partnered up with one another, two of whom are grappling inside of a wrestling ring whilst the rest occupy the space around the ring with crash mats. The logo on the ring apron reads:

“GSWA”

The Gold Standard and LSD champion soon waltzes into the shot, wearing a training vest with the same logo written across it. Over his shoulder is the LSD championship which he glances down at before running his hand over his famous moustache. He has a look of concern on his face as begins to talk.

Sektor: For the past week I’ve been getting asked the same questions. ‘How do you feel that the Best Alliance is no more?’ ‘How do you feel about the Iron man match at Rumble at the Rock?’ ‘How do you FEEL, about Mike Best getting a World title shot?’ ‘What color tights will you wear?’

He raises his eyebrows as he pondors all of this and takes a deep breath.

Sektor: I’ll get to all of that. But first, what about the most important question?

He narrows his eyes at the camera.

Sektor: How is Lee?

He cocks his head to the side as he allows the question to sink in, clearly annoyed that Lee’s welfare has been overlooked.

Sektor: Last I saw our creator was getting his head knee’d off his shoulders by his son! He could be fucking dead for all we know and all people care about is the fact that the BA has disbanded. That the HOFC title has been retired. That the final BA members are being rewarded. Fuck the HOFC title. Fuck the BA! Fuck the color of my tights because I still bleed #97-red!

He grits his teeth.

Sektor: I WAS, the BA. Me and Lee, that was the true alliance, the rest of those assholes were just stooges. I’ve beaten Harrison. I’ve beaten Clay. I’ve beaten Jatt more times that I care to remember. The Best Alliance may never return as we all once knew. But Lee, if you are alive and watching this? Then get better. And know that I will always be by your side.

There’s an intense sincerity about Sektor as he stares into the camera. He then glances back down at the LSD championship over his shoulder.

Sektor: Now, as you can see, I am here in my own wrestling academy. The Gold Standard Wrestling Academy, training the next generation of technical wrestlers so that they can carry on my elite legacy in this industry. See, technical wrestling is becoming a dying art, but I won’t allow that to happen.

Sektor: In 2002 the LSD championship used to stand for ‘Lightweight Superstar Division’ for all the little people. Until Lee realised that small, big, fat, skinny? It doesn’t matter. So he changed it to ‘Lee’s Superstar Division’ and because all the technical wrestlers were scrapping for the ICON? It attracted all the delinquents who prepare to fight with weapons and wouldn’t know a basic hold if it hit them in the face.

Sektor: It’s evolution has now achieved its final stage as I now represent it. Now it represents what the Icon championship used to represent. Gone, are the days of barbaric matches, crucifixions and unnecessary violence. I, represent the LSD championship now. With this title, my skills and these future stars? Technical wrestling will return as the brand of wrestling that everyone wants to see.

He smiles, clearly passionate about his vision for the LSD championship and technical wrestling.

Sektor: Lee shared this vision. This is why it is now known as the Lee and Sektor Division, because he recognised that with me as champion? It could evolve and become bigger than it ever has been. No longer sullied by thugs like Scottywood and Silent Witness. I bring class and artistry to this championship. This is what I want. This is what Lee wants, which is why I believe he added the Iron Man stipulation in his contract for Rumble at the Rock.

Sektor is glowing with excitement, practically licking his lips at the thought of this match.

Sektor: I have become synonymous with Iron man matches here in HOW. My Iron Man match with Jatt years ago at Rumble at the Rock is a true classic. My Iron man match with Evan Ward for the TV championship was one of the greatest matches of all time. So great, infact, that from that day on every single match for the TV championship was contested under Iron man rules, until it was retired.

Sektor: It is the ultimate test of ability, knowledge, experience, stamina, mentality and heart. I can think of no better way to defend this championship so I am eternally grateful for this opportunity. But I do wonder..

He begins, smirking.

Sektor: Which poor soul is going to have to go through that with me? Which poor bastard is going to have to spend a minimum of sixty minutes in the ring with the most calculated technical wrestler of all time?

He ponders this with an air of confidence.

Sektor: Make no mistake, this is an opportunity for me, nobody else. It is a chance for me to elevate my status as greatest LSD champion of all time, whilst continuing the rebrand of the title. Whoever I face will have the honour of sharing that experience with me. So it must be EARNED.

Sektor: Now, as you can see..

He continues, gesturing around at his academy.

Sektor: I am training, all of the time. Preparing for my next title defence because I am a defending champion. So breaking news, hermano’s. Next week in Denver Colorado? I will be defending my LSD championship. Who against you ask? Who knows. Doesn’t matter to me, because whoever it is is going to be destroyed because there is no fucking way I am missing that Iron man match. So everyone take a good hard look..

He says, stepping back and raising the LSD championship into the air.

Sektor: This is what a true champion looks like.

The scene fades to black as we cut to another commercial break.

 

 

 

 

 

 

World Championship Match
Michael Lee Best vs. World Champion©

Iron Man Match for the LSD Championship
??? vs. John Sektor©

Prison Yard Match for the HOTv Championship
??? vs. QT Reese©

Infirmary Match
Clay Byrd vs. Jace Parker Davidson

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

 

Fuck off Chicago

Back live and 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 in 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.

Standing in what looks to be a large windowless board room is the Son of Scions, Sutler Reynolds-Kael wearing a Miskatonic Big Game Hunters jersey, the colors being red, purple and yellow. The logo is predictably enough a white man with a pith smiling broadly. On Sutler’s head he wore a Project Ego snapback, if you know you know, if you don’t, welcome to a throwback.

SRK: Yes, before you asked, we used the same intro. It’s a good intro and nobody even cares. Moving on.

The Son of Scions speaks with an annoyed tone while waving his arms around in a hurried manner.

SRK: Once again I’m here to tell you all that I am definitely not in the arena and am, in fact, at my home in Arkham. Last week I spoke briefly about my Uncle and Grandfather and they are a huge factor for why I’m not at Refueled but they are not the only reason, oooh fuck no. No, no, no. Chicago, I spent the last few years calling you home and I was proud of it. I was proud because I was told you had integrity, that you had a great passion for the history of wrestling, that you were smart and had incredible consistency. I was told wrong.

The screen flickers and cuts to a scene from the recent past. No entrance music accompanies the surviving son of Lee Best, as he quietly makes his way out from behind the curtain. A plain black suit and tie frame the swollen mess of stitches in his nose and face, still healing from the violent end to last Saturday’s Rumble at the Rock pay-per-view, and he carries the HOW World Championship, still flecked with blood, at his side.

As soon as he steps out onto the stage, the previously respectful crowd loses all semblance of mourning– the outpouring of actual hatred for Michael Lee Best is so loud that it almost appears to hit him in the face. Already not holding it together very well, the Son of God swallows hard at the top of the ramp, his eyes glistening and wet under the lights of the stage. Sutler’s voice cut over the footage.

SRK: October 31st, 2020. The Max Kael Memorial Show, I remember it like it was yesterday. Apparently no one else does but I get the feeling nobody else actually cares.

The screen flickers again as we fast forward through the segment showing a saddened Mike standing in the ring.

Mike Best: I’m sorry.

It is perhaps the loudest boo of his career.

This isn’t wrestling booing. This isn’t playing along with the show, or reacting to a bad guy they don’t like. This is the collective sound of thousands of human beings letting Michael Lee Best know that they wish it had been him instead. The weight of the reaction drains the color out of Michael’s face, and his gaze falls quickly to the canvas.

SRK: Do you hear that? Those are the howls of hatred, those are the boos of absolute despising, probably the loudest booing I’ve ever heard in the history of High Octane Wrestling. Mike Best murdered his brother, my father, a man beloved by High Octane Wrestling, so much so they had a Memorial Show.. Maximilian Wilhelm Kael. Honestly, I’ve known crowds that hold grudges for decades for something as simple as a screw job, Mike murdered one of HOW’s most beloved sons. I thought you’d hate him the rest of his life.

We suddenly shift to the opening of Refueled XXII. Hanzel 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.

SRK: September 11, 2021, Refueled XXII. Mike Best shows up after a few months of boring everyone in the HOFC division.

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.

SRK: My fucking mistake, huh? It’s like this guy has no middle ground, you either boo him loudly or cheer him loudly, some real Eric Dane stuff. You guys turned like a cheap trick and for what? What did Mike Best do exactly? Oh wait, He’S a BeSt, ThEy AlWaYs GeT cHeErEd In ChI-tOwN.. Wait, the Memorial Show happened in Chicago?! Well.. well.. Well that doesn’t even make sense! Unless Mike really did something to earn your respect back. Which, I mean, of course he did, he uh.. He uh.. Um.. he didn’t do shit, you fucks are just some of the most fair weather, short term memory fucks in the business. Makes sense though, you’re just like my uncle, eager to score that quick serotonin kick.

We fast forward in the segment to Mike smirking out over the hot Chicago crowd.

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 before we finally cut back to Sutler who is now wearing a Green Bay Packer’s shirt.

SRK: Biggest pop I’ve probably heard in HOW history for nothing really. The kind of pop you’d expect from a legend who’s been away from the company for years, away from the business for years.. Nope. just been fighting on an aircraft carrier, still around, still turning out shirts. No reason whatsoever, just the kind of pop guy like Darin Zion gets from homeless people. The kind of cheering you’d almost expect an egotist give himself but instead it’s just a terrible Chicago HOW crowd.

Lifting his finger, the Son of Scions flipped off the camera with a smirk of his own.

SRK: So fuck off Chicago. I’m proudly from Arkham. Go Packers. Give me my God damn Title Rematch, High Octane Wrestling, you fucking Cowards. Sutler Out. .

We cut away as the HOTv goes dark and we cut back live to the Target Center.

Kostoff!

Back live and we are back inside the Target Center and before anything else can happen the lights flicker and a loud clap of thunder erupts.

Benny Newell: What the fuck is this?

Joe Hoffman: We are about to find out…

As the words drift off, “Wolf Totem” opens up. The drums pound away across the Target Center as the crowd gets to their feet. A single white light shines down on the stage as Kostoff steps out.

Benny Newell: God damn this old prick.

Joe Hoffman: The legend is back!! We all saw the news that he would be here….and here he is!!!

Standing on the stage he looks out at the crowd. The long time fan favorite tilts his head back and closes his eyes.

Joe Hoffman: What a reception for the Hall of Famer.

Benny Newell: I think everyone heard you the first time.

The beat pounds away on the speakers as he begins his way to the ring. High fiving the fans as he makes it to the ring. He walks around the ring and asks for a mic. He slides into the ring and climbs up into a corner as the place is going insane.

Joe Hoffman: I wonder what is going through the mind of Lee right now?

Benny Newell: I am sure he is not happy this fucker is in this arena.

Climbing down from the corner, he makes it to the middle of the ring. He lifts the mic to his mouth as the arena is still going nuts.

Kostoff: Guess who decided to step back into the ring that he and Lee fucking made!!

Boos come down at Lee’s name being said

Kostoff: OK ok, guys let’s be honest. I am right. I have been a part of this company since day one, and proud as fuck to be here this entire time. We can all say shit about Lee but he is….was…..the best owner around.

Benny Newell: Well. I have to agree with him…

Joe Hoffman: Kostoff is right.

He stands there and looks out into the crowd.

Kostoff: I owe you guys alot. You guys have been in my corner for years, wanting to see me fight Lee and the Alliance. I did, I fought them all. Never backing down, yea I got my ass whipped but I always fought.

He lowers the mic and nods his head. The crowd begins to buzz as he looks up.

Kostoff: But, got to say. It was fun. I enjoyed the fights, I enjoyed the paydays. But..

Joe Hoffman: Where is he going with this?

Benny Newell: Finally…..

The crowd begins a murmur as he walks to the ropes and leans on them.

Kostoff: But, as with anything. Things do come a end.

Loud shouts of “No” come raining down as he stands in the ring.

Kostoff: Yes folks, before whatever happened at Bottomline happened, Lee knew I was stepping in here tonight out of respect to let me tell y’all I am retiring. I ran that road, I left blood across this country and worldwide for HOW….. but it is time for this old bastard to leave and just enjoy the rest of my days.

Joe Hoffman: What?

Benny Newell: Bye bye mother fucker.

The crowd is in shock as he pushes off the ropes. A middle aged man comes over the railing and slides into the ring. Kostoff looks over at him and tilts his head to the side. The man pulls a mic out of his back pocket and looks at Kostoff.

Kostoff: Who in the fuck are you?

The man grins at Kostoff as he lifts the mic up to his mouth.

Man: Who I am will come soon enough. You know me, you just forgot me.

Kostoff: What the fuck are getting at?

Man: Let me say this, you know me well. I know you really well..

Kostoff: Man look, I could give a fuck who you are…

Man: Gonna stop you there big man. Let me reintroduce myself. My name is Cole.

Kostoff: What? Man, fuck right off with that. You were useless before and you are useless now. Fuck off…

Cole looks at Kostoff and grins.

Cole: OH no, I’m not here to fight you.

Kostoff: OK, so now what?

The smile on Cole’s face twists.

Joe Hoffman: Now who the hell is that?

A man leaps over the railing. Kostoff has his back turned as the man on the outside stares intently at the HOW Hall of Famer, the crowd is booing and screaming as the guy grabs a chair and slides in..

Cole: He is here tho…

Kostoff: Who the fuck..

As Kostoff turns around, this mystery man drives the chair down into the skull of Kostoff. Kostoff hits the mat with a thud. Cole walks over and grabs the head of Kostoff and pulls it up and looks at him.

Cole: I’m not here for a fight, hell we both know how that would end. But this man here..

The crowd is booing and throwing garbage into the ring. Cole stands up and drops the head of Kostoff onto the mat. The man puts the chair on the back of Kostoff’s head. He runs and hits the ropes and comes storming back and double stomps his feet into the chair.

Cole: Go ahead and boo all you fuckers want. This washed out roid head is done.

Cole laughs as he points to the turnbuckle. The man runs and climbs to the top. He walks the top rope and launches himself into a twisting 450 slash into the prone body of Kostoff.

Joe Hoffman: Holy hell!!

Benny Newell: I am actually turned on watching this..

The crowd’s booing and throwing of garbage into the ring picks up as Cole grabs Kostoff by his head and pulls him up. He sends Kostoff crashing into the corner. Cole points and the man takes off into a full sprint. Cole lifts the chair to the face of Kostoff as the man drives a roaring elbow into the chair, smashing the face and skull of Kostoff. Blood spills from the face of Kostoff as he falls down prone.

Cole: You may have wanted to retire tonight big man, but this man here ended you.

Cole drops the mic as he and the unknown man slides out of the ring and head up the aisle as we cut to an impromptu commercial break.

#8 Jatt Starr vs. #5 Conor Fuse

World Championship Match

As we cut back to ringside, the fans are still buzzing after witnessing what just happened to Chris Kostoff.  There is no rest period however as its not time for a live HOW World Championship match here on Refueled. But before either of tonight’s competitors make their entrance, there is a series of loud and very polarizing noises from the crowd here in Minneapolis as Michael Lee Best makes his way out from the back, still dressed in his street clothes. Instead of making his way to the ring, however, it would appear that the Son of God is beelining toward the commentary table.

The camera follows him to Benny and Joe, as stagehands finish preparing the ring for the final match of the evening.

Joe Hoffman: It’s time for the main event, folks, and it looks like we may have company. The number one contender himself, Michael Lee Best.

Mike Best: I told everyone earlier tonight that I would have my full focus on this match, Joe. Very interested in the outcome. What better way to scout ahead than to come down here and watch it with the best play by play man in history? BUT before we get to the match…let me just say that as with many things in High Octane Wrestling at the moment……I did it first. RIP Kostoff. Benny go celebrate that final nail in the Kostoff name being drilled home tonight.

Benny Newell: So you’re just gonna kick me out again? Why the fuck do–

Mike Best: There’s a very expensive bottle of whiskey back behind that curtain waiting for you, Benny. Enjoy it. My treat.

Before there are any more references to the Alpha or even Omega here in HOW, Benny smiles and promptly jumps out of his seat and heads towards the back.

The lights go out, and one by one yellow spotlights illuminate the ramp from the ring to the curtain. “Everybody Wants You” by Billy Squier blares across the arena and emerging from the curtain is Jatt Starr, sporting his red and black plaid suit jacket with a bare chest underneath. Flanked by the Wabid Wabbit and Anton the Fourth, Jatt struts down the ramp as he removes his suit jacket– he carefully folds it up and hands it off to Wabid Wabbit.

Joe Hoffman: The dissolution of the Best Alliance at Bottomline resulted in each member receiving a parting gift in that 970,000 page contract, and Jatt Starr’s parting gift is tonight’s main event. A singles match against Conor Fuse for the HOW World Championship!

Mike Best: Make no mistake though, Joe, tonight’s title match is hardly a handout. The Sultan of Jattwhatever is having a hell of a year. His singles winning percentage is actually higher than the HOW World Champion’s, and this man is a certified Hall of Famer. I’m told that years before I came to HOW, Jatt was unstoppable.

As the ring becomes illuminated in yellow light, Jatt Starr walks up the ring steps to the apron. Anton opens the top and middle ropes and the Ruler of Jattlantis enters, standing in the middle of the ring as all of the lights go out save for one yellow spotlight in the middle of the ring. As the crowd bathes him in both cheers and jeers, Jatt stands until the spotlight fades along with his music, before heading toward his corner and leaning nonchalantly against the turnbuckle.

Joe Hoffman: The last time Jatt Starr and Conor Fuse faced off, Jatt Starr had the upper hand. We’re now approaching nearly the one year anniversary of that match– can Jatt do it again, and capture the HOW World Championship for the first time in over ten years?

Mike Best: Anything can happen in HOW, Joe. I mean look at me– two weeks ago, I was sitting on my couch, and now I’m the number one contender. Just think… by the end of the tonight, we could have a Rumble at the Rock match between Mike Best and Jatt Starr that DOESN’T end in under fifteen seconds. What a world!

“Bloody Tears (Epic Version)” from Castlevania II begins. A purple mist floods the entrance way as “The Vintage” Conor Fuse emerges from behind the curtain and stands at the top of the rampway. He’s sporting a dark purple jacket with its high-collar raised, and his head staring down at the steel beneath him. The jacket is open, showing his vintage SNES tights and more importantly the HOW World Championship, as he slowly raises his head.

Mike Best: I tell you, this kid has real potential..

Joe Hoffman: Conor has a lot more than just potential. He’s the HOW World Champion after a hard fought match against your own nephew, Sutler Kael.

Mike Best: Of course, Joe! Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been in the cage with Conor, and while sure… I may have knocked him clean out, that was in a whole different environment. He couldn’t even do all those fun little flips and flops! If you think I’m too good to put over the video game kid, you’re wrong twice— Conor isnt just the video game kid, he’s the video game MAN.

The fog continues to pump from the stage as Fuse methodically makes his way down the ramp. The crowd starts a “!rank” chant, pointing in Conor’s direction as he marches towards ringside.

Joe Hoffman: While I feel you aren’t being entirely sincere, Conor’s high flying offense has seen him to great success here in HOW. His Super Splash 450 has been nearly unstoppable.

Mike Best: Love that finish, Joe. Can’t wait to kick out of it.

Once in front of the squared circle, The Vintage leaps onto the apron and then with ease clears the ropes by jumping over them and somersaulting into the middle of the ring. Fuse tilts his head back and zen cries into the rafters while the fans in attendance continue to cheer him on. Conor removes his trench coat, revealing his trademarked light purple arm sleeve on his left arm. Fuse hands the HOW World Championship off to Matt Boettcher, who holds it aloft to signify that it’s on the line.

With both men set in their corners, the bell is called for and the match begins.

DING DING DING

Stepping to the center of the ring, Conor and Jatt size each other up as the crowd buzzes even louder. There is a moment of suspenseful tension in the center of the ring.

Joe Hoffman: No love lost here, folks.

Mike Best: Jatt handed Conor a giant loss at Rumble at the Rock. Conor took Jatt’s tag title. This is Jatt’s first real shot at the HOW World Title in over ten years. He doesn’t want to waste it, and Conor JUST won the damned thing. This is a bigger match than people think it is.

Jatt Starr extends an obviously disingenuous hand out to Conor, offering to shake it before the match starts. Conor instead weakly slaps his hand and says “Good luck” before stepping back toward his corner. Jatt growls, charging forward with a JATTI MIND PUNCH, but the slightly quicker champion rolls to the side and counters with a spinning heel kick and knocks Jatt into the ropes!

Jatt slides against the ropes, but the champion follows and grabs a side headlock, pulling Jatt toward the middle of the ring. He pushes off Jatt’s body weight and runs to the ropes, but Jatt does the same on the opposite side! Both men springboard off the ropes with stunning looking dropkicks, colliding in the middle of the ring and both falling to their backs at a stalemate! The crowd goes ballistic!

Joe Hoffman: Sparrow Dynamics counters a springboard dropkick from Conor Fuse! We have a contest here folks!

Mike Best: Jatt likes to do his hokey schtick and that’s great, but people forget that he can move out there. I’m telling you guys, he was REALLY something back when your parents watched HOW.

Both men are quickly up to their feet, and now they tie up in the center. Sit down hip toss by Conor Fuse, but Jatt rolls with it and holds the arm of the champion, following with a headlock takeover and brings Conor to the mat. Jatt tries to keep Fuse grounded, digging into the skull with a series of punches meant to keep him down. Conor covers up, but it puts his shoulders down and Boettcher starts the count.

ONE!

TWO!

KICKOUT!

The pace still doesn’t slow, as Jatt immediately rains more punches down onto Conor, and as soon as Conor covers up, Boettcher starts the count again.

ONE!

TWO!

KICKOUT!

Joe Hoffman: Jatt Starr is fighting like a man possessed! This might be the best I’ve seen him look in years– we really are looking at a man who has stepped out of a time machine here tonight, folks!

Mike Best: It’s not easy to match pace with Conor Fuse. Now he just has to hope he can KEEP that pace up out there, or he’s gonna gas out by the second round.

Joe Hoffman: Second round?

Mike Best: Sorry. Old habit.

Jatt Starr doesn’t relinquish the headlock, though he does stand to his feet and pull Conor along with him. Fuse throws an elbow to the gut of the challenger, though, and shoots Jatt off into the ropes with an Irish Whip. A snap standing dropkick is waiting for Jatt as he rebounds, and another as the Ruler of Jattlantis immediately gets to his feet! The second one keeps Jatt down for a moment, as he’s been going at breakneck pace since this match began.

Conor Fuse looks pissed, not having expected to be taken toe to toe in this match in the realm of speed. He puts his hands on his hips, getting a breather, but it doesn’t last long– Jatt Starr climbs to his feet! Conor throws a superkick, cracking the challenger across the jaw, and Jatt goes down… but he pops back up! SUPERKICK! Jatt is down again, but he refuses to stay on the mat! Conor throws a THIRD superkick… but Jatt ducks it and sweeps behind Conor Fuse….

Joe Hoffman: STARRDIAC ARREST!

The falling inverted DDT lands crisp in the ring and Jatt scrambles to cover!

ONE!

TWO!

THR– KICKOUT!

Jatt Starr: GOD FUCKING DAMNIT!

Knowing that the longer this match goes on, the harder it’s going to be, Jatt is absolutely furious.

Mike Best: Honestly, I thought he had him.

Joe Hoffman: I think everyone did, Mike. But Conor got that shoulder up literally just in time. A tremendous effort by both competitors.

Conor rolls to the ropes, holding his head as he tried to regain his composure, but Jatt isn’t having any of it. He stalks the champion, grabbing the ropes for leverage as he lays thunderous boots into the side or Conor’s already aching head. Boettcher starts a five count.

1!

2!

3!

4!

Jatt breaks away, not wanting to risk a disqualification.

Conor takes the break to roll out of the ring, trying to get his head straight. Unfortunately, he rolls right out to face Anton and The Wabbit himself! Jatt grabs hold of Matt Boettcher, arguing with him over a “fast five count”, and giving his cohorts enough time to get some damage in. Wabbit holds Conor’s arms, while Anton grabs the HOW World Championship from ringside– he swings for the fences, but Conor ducks! Wabbit is laid out at ringside as Conor escapes, running from the fray and sliding back into the ring… right behind Jatt Starr!

The crowd is roaring as Conor slaps Jatt on the back, screaming “WEAPON GET!”. Jatt isn’t able to turn around in time, and Conor wraps him up into position for an Unprettier…

Joe Hoffman: FALLING STARR!

Mike Best: YOU CAN’T JUST STEAL A FINISHER THAT’S ILLEGAL!

Jatt collides headfirst into the mat as the crowd is on their feet… Conor makes the cover!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

NO! JATT KICKS OUT!

Conor rolls to the side, slamming his hand on the mat and metaphorically smashing his controller. The crowd can’t believe it, and neither can Conor Fuse! Even Jatt looks surprised that he had the fortitude to kick out, and now both men are laying in the ring, trying to get their wits about them and take a breather.

Mike Best: This is a HELL of a main event, Joe.

Joe Hoffman: We were a millisecond from seeing Conor Fuse retain his HOW World Championship, but this is now anyone’s match!

Outside of the ring, Wabbit is still recovering from the accidental belt shot, but Anton is more worried about the boss. As Wabbit gets slowly to his feet, picking up the discarded HOW World Championship, Anton gets up onto the apron and begins arguing with the referee as the crowd boos. Hard.

Joe Hoffman: Oh come on, what’s this now? Another distraction?

Wabbit slides the HOW World Championship under the ropes, pushing it toward Jatt Starr– the Ruler of Jattlantis realizes the good fortune that has befallen him, and then looks to see Anton already distracting the referee. He slowly pulls himself up from the mat, lifting the World Title into his arms and lining up Conor Fuse– the HOW World Champion is getting up onto wobbling legs, and Jatt thunders forward with the title…

*THWACK!*

Conor is struck in the back of the head, and now the booing is even louder. Jatt drops the title and shoves it back toward Wabbit with his boot, getting rid of the evidence, as Anton drops off the apron. Boettcher turns to see what happened, but the coast is clear! The booing is even louder now, as Jatt Starr slowly lifts Conor Fuse up off the mat and drags him to the center of the ring. Still pissed about having his own finishing move used against him, he puts Conor into Unprettier position– he turns the hold….

Joe Hoffman: I can’t believe it! The Falling Starr! THE REAL FALLING STARR!

Mike Best: Holy shit.

Jatt lets out a roar, but… Conor counters! He lifts with all the force he can muster, picking Jatt Starr off his feet and dropping him backward with a fucking gnarly looking backslide bomb! It might not even be an established wrestling move, but it looks BRUTAL, and as Jatt’s still healing neck takes the brunt of the damage, his shoulders are helplessly pressed to the mat!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

DING DING DING

Joe Hoffman: WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!

Mike Best: That was fucking RESEARCH, Joe. Holy actual shit. Holy SHIT. Conor Fuse is the real deal. WOW!

Joe Hoffman: Getting nervous? Imagine what he can do to a knee.

Mike Best: ……

Conor releases the trapping pin, rolling away as he holds his own neck as well. Matt Boettcher presents him with the HOW World Championship, and the crowd almost couldn’t be louder.

Bryan McVay: Here is your winner… and STILL HOW World Champion… VINTAGE…. CONOR….. FUUUUUUUSE!

Refueled comes to an end as we see the World Champion staring intently at the number one contender, who is now standing on top of the announce table, as the crowd begins an obligatory HOLY SHIT chant.

Bonus Segment

We fade in on the outside of the Target Center where the Minneapolis faithful have gathered in hopes of catching a glimpse of their favorite HOW stars. A limo is sitting at the end of the line of fans and the door to the Target Center opens and out walks HOW Hall of Famers Bobbinette Carey and Scottywood. The majority of fans boo while a few still seek autographs, however the Hall of Famers snub them on their way to the limo. As they arrive at the limo the back door opens and out steps HOW Hall of Famer Mario Maurako. The few fans in attendance go wild for their hometown hero, Scotty & Bobbinette on the other hand are a bit more shocked by the presence of their fellow Hall of Famer.

Mario tugs on his suit straightening it up to smooth out the wrinkles from sitting down. He then stares stoically. Scottywood makes the first move and holds out his hand toward Mario in a sign of solidarity. A wide grin then breaks across Mario’s face.

Mario Maurako: Brothers don’t shake hands. Brothers hug!

Scotty reluctantly goes in for a hug, but Mario has other ideas. He swiftly hooks Scotty in a uranage slam that the fans know as Simply Marvelous. Scotty writhes in pain as the fans erupt. Mario gets back to his feet, not as fast as he used to. But upon standing up he is now face to face with The Queen.

Mario Maurako: Hi there Carey-

Mario instantly swings with an open palm and smacks Bobbinette across her face, staggering her backwards a few steps. The fans are eating it up and start chanting “One more time, One more time”. Mario smiles and shrugs his shoulders towards the crowd before doing a spinning backhand and landing it right across The Queen’s face, sending her down to the concrete. Mario starts to walk toward the Target Center door and then freezes when he see’s Bobbinette’s little make-shift Whack-o-Meter sticking out of The Queen’s bag. Mario bends down and grabs the Whack-o-Meter and then removes a marker from The Queen’s bag and increases the number by two.

The show fades out to the cheers of the Minnesota faithful as the HOW Hall of Famer takes in all the love from his hometown fans.