Refueled LXXIV
  • Event Type: weekly

Refueled LXXIV

Event Date: September 25, 2021 at 10:00 pm

#18 Daytona vs. #15 Kevin Capone

The 74th edition of Refueled, live here in the Pepsi Center in Denver, begins quickly as we cut immediately to Hall of Famer Bryan McVay as we are kicking off with inring action!

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

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

Joe Hoffman: Welcome everyone to Refueled live here in High Octane Television. We are wasting zero time as we are ready for our first match of the evening. Benny, the last time Daytona was in the ring, she came up short against Jace Parker Davidson–but even in defeat, her efforts were impressive.

Benny Newell: It is no vasted movement Joe. C’mon I thought you were the professional here. Anyway…we all know that Capone has been begging like Keith Sweat to get his rematch from the curtain jerking loss he took at Bottomline.

Bryan McVay: Her opponent, from Queens, New York, weighing two-hundred-forty-seven pounds… KEVIN CAPONE!

The lights go out and J. Cole’s – Mr. Nice Watch blares from the arena sound system in the pitch black. After several seconds the lights come back on and Kevin Capone is already standing at the top of the ramp, eyes cold. Kevin Capone’s face features a 4-finger length beard with sporadic strands of gray and balding head with connected short dreads at the far back of his dome. His body drenched in pre-match workout sweat, accentuates the 6 inch vertical scar down Capone’s toned abdomen along with the “Scarred For Life” tattoo right above it through the light amount of hair over his torso. He stretches both arms wearing padded fighter’s gloves and cruises down the ramp in a blacked out ensemble, black boxing-style trunks several inches above the knee and short black boots. He does his ballistic stretches, swinging his arms performing different combinations, before making it to the ring, hopping on the apron in one swoop and pulling on the top ropes with bad intentions. Kevin Capone enters the ring between the middle and top rope and assumes his position in a corner, his eyes never letting up of their laser focus.

Joe Hoffman: To his credit Capone has continued to grind thru and his efforts have NOT gone unnoticed here.

Benny Newell: How are you this positive about anything? Do you not read social media? Do you not hear all the smart assholes on the dirt sheets.

Back in the ring, Daytona’s smirking ear-to-ear from her corner, her confidence on full display. In stark contrast, Kevin Capone’s expression is neutral save his focus. Joel Hortega looks between the two competitors before motioning for the bell.

DING DING DING!

As soon as the match begins, Daytona is flying across the ring, clearly going for a Lou Thesz !Press rather than any kind of tie-up since she knows that Capone would get the advantage there–and her ambush tactic works, Kevin getting bowled over. Capone is quick to cover up as Dayona rains punches down from above, not letting up even as Hortega begins the five-count. At four and nine tenths, Daytona lets up, getting off Capone who emotionlessly gets to his feet now that there’s enough distance to do so.

Joe Hoffman: Daytona’s aggressive from the jump–and it’s paying off! She’s got to make up for the size and strength advantage Capone has, and the element of surprise is a great way to do it.

Benny Newell: Yeah, but now the element of surprise is gone. What is she gonna do now? Eh, who cares–DRINK!

As soon as Hortega gets out of the way, Daytona is rushing again… but this time, Capone is ready. While Daytona does indeed take him to the mat again, Kevin is quick to make it clear that he is the one in control by wrapping his legs around Daytona’s upper back, one foot slipping its way beneath her chin. Locking his hands together behind Daytona’s head, Capone locks in the choke as Daytona flails, trying to escape!

Joe Hoffman: Quick & Painful is locked in! This match might be over before it’s begun!

Benny Newell: Hold on, Daytona! Or at least hold on long enough for me to finish this drink. Cheers!

Hortega is right up close, keeping a close eye on things as Capone tightens his grip, Daytona’s face turning red, then purple from the lack of blood flow thanks to the choke. Try as she might, Daytona cannot free herself… leaving her no choice but to tap out.

DING DING DING!

Releasing the hold, Kevin throws Daytona to the side without a care, leaving her to recover before getting to his feet. Hortega raises Capone’s hand.

Bryan McVay: And your winner via submission… KEVIN CAPONE!

Joe Hoffman: Well that is certaintly an impressive way to get a win back after losing to Daytona back at Bottomline.

Benny Newell: Onward and upward Joe….fuck I miss Lee.

Joe goes to speak but stops himself as we cut away.

Confidence?

An Earlier Today card flashes up on the screen as we cut to the backstage catering area. Darin Zion dawdles over to the catering table at a slow pace.  He keeps eyeing all the delicious food HOW officials brought to the taping.  Anything from sandwiches, pizza, cookies, or chips is laid out buffet style.  Darin takes a deep breath in before finally reaching for the carrots.  All of a sudden as Zion leans in to grab food, his body collided with another person.  It’s Xander Azula!  Darin’s eyes widen and he takes a few steps back.  Maintaining his composure, he reaches his hand to greet Xander in a panicked voice.

Darin Zion:  Hey Xander ole buddy!   How’s it going?

Xander reaches out, shaking the hand of Zion with a smirk on his face as he nods.

Xander Azula: I am doing quite well, it’s a lovely evening and I feel a sense of confidence heading into my battle with Sutler Kael. More to the point, how are YOU doing? All well after last week, I hope? Looking forward to seeing you topple that fiend Jiles later.

Gritting his teeth together and backing away from Xander Zion maintains his cool.  Zion’s eyes dart frantically around the room looking for an escape.  You can hear the discomfort in his voice for the person as he becomes more animated in action.

Darin Zion:  Thanks mate!  I appreciate you checking in on me and wishing me well in tonight’s match.  I’ll be fine!  Just fine, man!  I’ve beaten Jiles hundreds of times.  It’s just a formality at this point.  I’ve got my fourth win in 2021 in the bag.

As Zion continues to edge away from his friend, Xander moves in. Xander’s smirk widens to a full-on smile, which seems to unnerve Zion even further.

Xander Azula:  That’s great to hear, Darin. I have full confidence in you this evening, that Eris may bless your performance. Have you given any further thought to our conversation, by chance? Any interest at all in understanding the Eternal Circle better?

You can sense Zion struggling to find words.  The gears turn in a frantic motion as the veteran tries to weasel his way out of it.  He looks at his phone and starts dashing towards the door.

Darin Zion:  I appreciate the offer but I need to go get ready for Jiles. I need to sleep on it some more.  I’ll have a decision for you next week,  I promise!

Zion rushes for the door and slams it behind him.  The camera pans over to Xander who once again has a spinster look on his face.  A sick and twisted smile covers his face as the segment fades to black.

#Cuntinette

We cut to footage from earlier in the night where we see a limo pull up to the Pepsi Center. There is a crowd of fans chanting and cheering as the door opens and we see HOW Hall of Famer Bobbinette Carey with a magenta colored kendo stick and a confused look on her face. Behind her we see her tag team partner for tonight and fellow Hall of Famer, Scottywood exit from the limo.

Bobbinette Carey: Are they cheering for us Scooter?

Scottywood: This isn’t Minneapolis or Chicago… Denver isn’t as full of shitbag men who are gonna cheer for abusing assholes.

Bobbinette reaches out and skeptically signs a couple autographs as Scotty cracks open not a beer, but a NOS energy drink and takes a drink before reaching back into the limo and grabbing his barbed wire hockey stick.

Scottywood: This isn’t 2010 anymore Carey. I know you’re bitter at the fans back then that cheered when you were abused. I know you’re still pissed over last week. So am I, but you’re channeling it at the wrong people. I know deep down you’d rather be the role model for these fans. That you wanna give them hope, that even if things seem like they are down in the fucking dumps, that you can pull yourself back up. That you can overcome abuse from those that try to control others for their own selfish reasons.

Bobbinette Carey: Wow Scooter, you lay off the beer for a day and …this…

Scottywood: Well it’s nice not showing up to the arena with a hangover for once. But don’t get too used to it. While I think you being the role model and the beacon of hope in HOW works for you, that shit doesn’t work for me. I need to be in that dark place where The Hardcore Artist can thrive, where I can find those demons that will help me beat Mike Best… and I guess Steve Solex too.

Bobbinette Carey: Help US beat Mike Best… and Steve Solex.

She emphasizes pointing back and forth between them.

Scottywood: I’m not used to having help going against Mike. Usually it’s him and a gang of his cronies all attacking me.

Bobbinette shakes her head from side to side in disappointment at the fact that he has endured this. She sighs lightly.

Bobbinette Carey: Well, you’re not alone in that ring tonight. We’ll show Mike Best just what kind of ring shape I am in… and give HOW one of the biggest shocks of the deca-

Man: Hey! Cuntinette!

The C word cuts through Carey as she and Scotty turn to the sack of shit behind those words. Her shoulders tense up as her face turns to annoyed. She squints her eyes. Some man in his mid to late forties, dressed in a ratty t-shirt and jeans who is holding onto what we can assume is his wife’s hand, who is just staring down at the floor.

Bobbinette Carey: Excuse me?

Man: You heard me… Cuntinette. Wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed you being put in your place last week. I got to knock my wife down a few pegs after she started thinking she could be empowered like you think you are.

Bobbinette Carey: Think I am?

She scoffs.

Scottywood: Carey…

But Bobbinette ignores Scotty’s half attempt to stop her, he’s actually smiling a bit as Carey pushes the crowd barricade to the side and starts power walking towards the man. He starts quickly backing up, as the look of confidence is rapidly fading, not expecting a true confrontation. Scotty walks slowly behind Carey as he takes another drink from his NOS.

Bobbinette Carey: Knocked your wife down a few pegs? Please enlighten me, how? A few open hands to her face?

The woman looks up at Carey and we can see the bruising across the side of her face. That enrages Carey even more as she backs the man against the wall and raises her magenta kendo stick.

Scottywood: He ain’t worth it Carey. This isn’t how you need to channel your anger.

Carey lowers the kendo stick, but continues to burn a hole through the man whose confidence is now turned into fear.

Bobbinette Carey: You’re right. He’s not shit. When confronted with a woman who has found her strength, he turns into a little bitch. Your wife deserves so much better, better than some manipulative and misogynistic toxic man. I could make my own shitty meter for every one of you sad pieces of garbage… but you aren’t even worth me counting.

Scottywood: Nicely said.

Bobbinette takes her hand and reaches into the man’s pocket, taking out his wallet and removing his driver’s license. She snaps a picture of it before tossing the wallet and card on the floor.

Bobbinette Carey: I think you’ll be hearing from the Denver police department very shortly. Have fun trying to say she slipped and fell when they see this video footage.

Smiles Carey as she points over at Frankie the Cameraman, who shakes the camera he is filming this whole encounter on while waving at the man. Carey then turns to the wife as she places her hand on her chin and helps her lift it up.

Bobbinette Carey: This, this is not love as much as you think it is. You don’t have to live with this, you don’t have to go back. I know it isn’t easy.

Bobbinette’s face is soft and genuine, showing compassion.

Bobbinette Carey: It takes a few times to work up the courage to leave. You have to love yourself enough. Remember just how strong you are… He doesn’t define you. He does not control who you are inside. You deserve better… you certainly can do better. You matter and are valid.

The woman cracks a smile as Carey backs away from the man, whose face shows a bit of relief. Carey turns and starts to make her way into the Pepsi Center, as Scottywood then steps up and gets into the man’s face.

Scottywood: Security, can we escort our new friend here into the arena? While I don’t think he is worth Carey’s time… I think I have a few minutes to spare before our match tonight.

Security nods as the man’s face turns back to fear as they grab him and start “escorting” back into the arena as Scotty turns to Frankie and gives him the signal to cut the feed for his video as we cut to our first commercial break of the evening.

#22 Darin Zion vs. #22 Cancer Jiles

Joe Hoffman: We’re back from our commercial break and we’re all set for our next match up. Bitter rivals but even bitter enemies. Darin Zion and Cancer Jiles are set to lock up shortly.

Benny Newell: That literally felt like constipation right there, hoffhole. I could hear my ears bleed through those run on sentences there.

Joe Hoffman: You’re telling me you’re an English major?

Benny Newell: Hell naw, but I got a PHD in Jack! DRINK!

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

Benny Newell: Fucking little bitch. Killed my buzzed state.

Joe Hoffman: Well that’s unfortunate.

Benny Newell: And my hard on.

Joe Hoffman: What the heck Benny?!

Bryan McVay: Introducing the first opponent: from Crown Point, Indiana; weighing in at 220 Pounds; please welcome DAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRIN ZIIIIIIION.

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

Joe Hoffman: Zion doesn’t look as fired up as he used to be. I think he’s sick or something.

Benny Newell: Where to start? AIDS. That’s a good place to start. And the guys straight up a fucking pussy. Like for fuck reality sake, the guy has no backbone. Reminds me of someone else but I’d probably get fired for saying it on national television. Maybe if I get drunk enough by middle of the show I’ll just fucking say it. Thank Lee I have an iron clad contract!

The lights dim. The arena quiets. A chill moves through the air… “I am the COOL” explodes over the speakers. ~I’m the one your mama warned you about ~When you see me, I will leave you no doubt ~I’m the coolest man that ever walked this earth ~I’ve been the coolest since the day of my birth ~I AM THE COOL. Out from behind the curtain, after a second or two of suspense, The Crown Prince of COOL, Cancer Jiles emerges. Shades on, hair on point, he pauses at the top of ramp and basks in the glorious affection of his precious OctaBandits.

Bryan McVay: And his opponent, from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, he weighs in at 229 pounds, he is CANCER JIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIILES!

After having his fill, Jiles confidently makes his way down to the ring and slides on in under the bottom rope.

Joe Hoffman: Here is the former HOW World Champion, Cancer Jiles, and he just looks pitiful tonight.

Benny Newell: I’ve never heard you bash a talent like that. You sure you didn’t drink from my tit of Jack?

Joe Hoffman: I don’t mean that as an insult…but look at the guy..he just looks so defeated tonight. You know, like he’s lost that spark.

Benny Newell: Or that loving feeling?

Joe Hoffman: Oh don’t you freaking dare start singing that song!

As Benny starts singing anyways and starts a “you lost that loving feeling” chant it becomes a life of its own. Meanwhile Zion and Jiles don’t look at all impressed by it as Matt Boettcher checks both men before signaling for the bell!

DING DING DING!

The match starts and Jiles quickly lunges forward with a vicious headbutt into the skull of Zion that Zion is quick to stumble down. Jiles stays on him, though, and executes a series of knife chops straight on the chest of Darin. This backs Darin into a corner as the guy literally hesitates to defend himself as the COOL one delivers some straight up stiff right hooks into the face of Zion. Meredith is literally screaming at Darin to defend himself and to get out of the corner which was enough for Zion to listen as he craftily gets himself out of the corner in which case leaves Jiles stuck in the corner by surprise. Zion starts to take a few shots at Jiles too before Jiles lunges forward and plants Zion with a throat punch. This causes Zion to stumble backwards as Jiles hits the second rope of the turnbuckle and sends Darin into the mat with a springboard dropkick. Jiles goes for the cover.

ONE

TWO

Joe Hoffman: Zion with the kickout there but he looks like he’s struggling here.

Benny Newell: This is turning into a bitch fest because it looks like both these guys are trying to reenact a South Park episode. I feel it screaming at me like they want this to be over so they can enjoy the rest of their summers.

Joe Hoffman: Man that was deep dude.

Benny Newell: Shut the fuck up hoffcock! Both these fuckers are so pathetic, that I couldn’t even find the strength to put any money on either of these spineless fucks.

Jiles pounds his chest as he has Zion right where he wants him. He pounded his chest so hard it turned on some fan up in the nosebleed area of Section 214 who was screaming at him. Zion rolls out of the ring to collect himself as Meredith is literally counseling him. His confidence is so low that it had him retreating, even for a brief moment. Jiles taunts him inside the ring as Jile’s cockiness begins to rise. Jiles has had enough, though, and he rolls out of the ring and starts chasing Darin. Darin sees this and starts running around the ring before sliding back inside. Jiles follows suit and this allows Zion to rush him with a running clothesline. Meredith cheers Zion on as Zion lays in a few rights to the glass jaw of Cool. Zion ricochets Jiles against the ropes and promptly takes him down with a running spinning wheel kick. Feeling a tad comfortable, Zion drops down and covers Jiles.

ONE

TWO

KICKOUT

Joe Hoffman: Close call there for Jiles and now it appears as if Zion didn’t like that call.

Benny Newell: That isn’t the case at all. For fuck sakes look at the bastard! Zion couldn’t get ONE pinfall attempt, that it immediately sent him back into shame land. The dude lost his fucking balls and I’m pretty sure Meredith has them locked away in some god forsaken closet. Hey Mere baby, come over here and I’ll show you what a real man with a real set of balls can do for you!

Zion reaches down to grab Jiles but Jiles pokes him in the eyes and Boettcher didn’t catch it. This allows Jiles to get back to his feet and he’s already had enough of Darin. Cancer runs towards Darin and hits a beautiful running face buster as Zion grabs his face.

Benny Newell: PS, let’s not leave out the fact that Zion literally has no balls and no backbone that he had to hide his face behind some stupid fucking mask!

Joe Hoffman: Cut the guy some slack there, Benny! Darin has had a tumultuous last month and Meredith is at least trying to establish a sense of confidence for the guy. If Zion can get that back, he could be a really dangerous man on the roster.

Benny Newell: Yea, says one of you fuckers. Fact check it too, guarantee I’m fucking spot on with that one.

Jiles has had enough of this match and he signals for the end. As Zion is stirring, Jiles starts to call his shot as he puts the spineless Zion away. Meredith doesn’t give up on Zion as she cheers him on at ringside knowing that Darin can do it. Jiles doesn’t care, though, and he takes his shot!

Benny Newell: TERMINAL CANCER!!!

Joe Hoffman: Jiles goes for the superkick!

A pinfall attempt quickly follows suit and it’s a fast one outta nowhere!

ONE

TWO

THREE!!!

DING DING DING!!

Joe Hoffman: OH MY GOD!!!

Benny Newell: WHAT IN THE ACTUAL TWO FACED FUCK JUST HAPPENED?!

Joe Hoffman: A roll up!! That’s what just happened!!

Bryan McVay: Here is your winner, DAAAAAAAAARIN ZIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIION!!!!

Zion is surprised as he was able to duck the super kick attempt from Jiles as Jiles is stunned!

Joe Hoffman: Darin Zion just got a roll up for the win and he absolutely stole this match away from Jiles!

Benny Newell: How the fuck was he able to just sneak that win away right from under our cocaine filled noses?!

Zion is shocked and stunned that he got away with a roll up and the victory and he quickly slides out of the ring from a very frustrated Cancer Jiles.

Joe Hoffman: Wow…#RallyZion chants are starting to break out from all across the arena!!

Benny Newell: Zion was lucky, that’s all that was! Only a spineless, cowardice fuck would pull some shady fucking bullshit like that!

Zion celebrates with Meredith on the ramp as the two of them back their way to the top of the entrance ramp still in shock of the victory as Refueled cuts backstage.

Yeast infection in this whine

We cut backstage following Zion vs Jiles where Brian Bare is standing by with former High Octane Wrestling World Champion, Sutler Reynolds-Kael. The Son of Scions has a bitter scowl on his face as he stares toward the camera.

Brian Bare: I’m here with Sutler Reynolds-Kael with an exclusive interview!

SRK: Exclusive? It’s you or Blaire and Sektor snatched her up before I could.

Sutler stares at Bare as the two make uncomfortable eye contact for a few moments before Brian pushes on. Reaching into his pocket he retrieves a few #97red index cards with questions scribbled on them.

Brian Bare: The first question in this exclusive interview with the former World Champion! This one comes straight from the High Octane Wrestling front office. Sutler Reynolds-Kael will be refereeing Bobbinette Carey and Scottywood verses Mike Best and Steve Solex. Not really a question..

Shaking his head, his bitter expression oozing into one of shock before solidifying into a sour frown.

SRK: Sounds fucking great, Brian. More of a statement, though.

Crossing his arms across his chest indignantly he turns his glare back toward Bare though it is clear he is deep in thought. Brian shuffles the cards around as he quickly searches for a new question to break the awkward silence.

Brian Bare: This one comes from Applebee’s Store #922. Given your recent criticisms of both Mike Best and his father, Lee, what are your thoughts on the suggestions that he is racist?

Sutler snaps out of his thoughts and levels a glare at Bare before shifting toward the camera. He raised his left eyebrow slightly before turning to stare back at Bare with an incredulous look on his face.

SRK: Mike is a lot of things but he never struck me as racist. Privileged? Oh sure, absolutely, both in perception and reality. But racist? Eh.. I mean he has a black son, I can’t imagine him harboring any negative feelings based on his skin color. Kid’s fucking stupid though. Next question?

Bare nods his head shuffling through the cards once again before something Sutler had said snaps him back to the previous question.

Brian Bare: Did you just say that Mike Best has a son?

Rolling his eyes the Son of Scions let out an exasperated sigh. With lightning quickness he snatches the red index cards out of Bare’s hand before pushing Brian away..

SRK: Shoo, Brian. I’m sure there’s a bridge for you to hand out handjobs under. Lets see if you have any questions worthwhile in this stack.

Brian stumbles away as Sutler idly flips through the cards tossing them away. He muttered under his breath apparently unimpressed with the questions until he finally came across something that caught his eye. A smile flickers onto his face for a second before he appears to shove it back down.

SRK: This question is from Mary Grace out of Little Rock, Arkansas. She asks if I feel like I’ve been abused by the High Octane Wrestling bookers and if I would consider legal action. Well, Mary Grace, I have, in fact, been wronged. I’ve carried his company on my shoulders when Mike Best was off boring people with 10 second matches off in HOFCland, a place he was content with until he realized nobody worth a fuck wanted to play. Up until Cecilworth earned himself an HOFC Championship match. Then, just like that, poof! Division gone. And for his trouble? He gets a High Octane World Championship match.

Rolling his eyes once again the Son of Scions tosses the remaining questions over his shoulder.

SRK: Well if Mike gets this title shot then I best as fuck deserve my World Title Rematch! Starting tonight I want everybody to get on their twitter, on their facebook, on their grindr and snapchats and let everybody know that Sutler wants his rematch! Let the whole world know that you stand with me! If Mike gets a World Title Shot.. well then #MeToo!

Sutler throws up a hashtag symbol with both of his hands.

SRK: And while you’re rallying around the #MeToo movement to get my deserved World Title rematch I’ll be doing my part!

A graphic of Sutler’s OnlyFans account name and subscription pricing on the screen.

SRK: I get paid basically nothing here and, as it turns out, stuff costs money. Subscribe to my OnlyFans so I can buy shit. Uh.. also Xander Azula fucks the dog. Sutler.. OOOOOOOOOOOOOoooOooOOOOOoooUT!

The Son of Scions throws up the deuces before the scene shifts to the next segment.

My Division

The action cuts to Blaire Moise, backstage, who is poised and ready. Standing next to her is the LSD champion, John Sektor, already dressed in his wrestling attire with the title slung proudly over his shoulder.

Blaire: Guys as you can see I’m joined by the LSD champion, none other than John Sektor. Sektor, first of all I have to ask how you are feeling since finding out that the Best Alliance has been disbanded?

Sektor remains casual as he runs a hand over his moustache.

Sektor: It was a shock. But, there is nothing I can do about it. It’s beyond my power so I do what I do best, you know? I adapt. I carry on. I don’t need the Best Alliance to be the Best. I was in the Best Alliance for Lee.

Blaire: Do you have any plans to make any new allies or..

Sektor: No. Absolutely not!

He says this rather bluntly, which catches Blaire off guard.

Sektor: Let’s just say I wasn’t enjoying the team element of the Alliance. Fuck, let’s cut the bullshit, I was in it for the perks. The money. Most importantly, I was there because I felt I owed it to repay Lee with the loyalty he has shown me over the years. But now it’s over? I am free. No more shackles. No one else to worry about or hold me back. I am John, Fucking, Sektor and I am flying solo.

Blaire nods, seeming intrigued by this notion.

Blaire: Well tonight, you are in the main event where you are set to the defend the LSD champion against High Flyer. A man whom you have faced before. This time it feels different, why do you think that is?

Sektor pouts nonchalantly.

Sektor: Because I am champion? Because he is challenging for my title and has a little more rocket fuel inside of him? It only feels different for you, the fans, maybe even him. For me? It is no different except that I have this to defend.

He nods towards the shiny LSD championship over his shoulder.

Sektor: I told you all I was a defending champion and I told you all I would defend tonight, here in Denver Colorado.

Feint cheers from the home support can be heard from inside the arena.

Sektor: High Flyer…Jack Harmen, seems he got there before anyone else and took this opportunity. So I look forward to again showcasing what two veterans like he and I can create in the ring. He will no doubt give me a challenge of wits and skill. But in the end? I win. Because as I said, there is nothing or no one who can take this championship from me.

Blaire: Obviously we are still waiting to find out who you will be defending against at Rumble at the Rock, where you will defend the LSD championship in a 97 minute Iron Man match. Is there anyone who you would like to face in that match?

Sektor smirks and rubs his hands together as he stares up at the rafters.

Sektor: Oh, there are one or two names that come to mind. But as I said last week. Whoever it is will have to earn it. This Iron Man match is guaranteed to make history as one of the greatest matches of all time. I aint handing shit like that out for free. But listen to me..

He turns and looks straight into the camera.

Sektor: Whoever it is? Know this. I will not lose. You are dealing with the strongest John Sektor you have ever seen. Both physically and mentally I am more robust than I have ever been in my entire life. I don’t care what other people think or what other opinions are. In my mind? I’m the best. I’m the greatest! I’m better than every single person in that locker room and in the World!

He lifts the title off the shoulder and holds it in front of the camera.

Sektor: This is my division!

With that we cut to our next commercial break..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

#2 SRK vs. #19 Xander Azula

Back live and the whistling intro of “Engel” plays over the PA system, setting fans into a mixed reaction as Legion and his Eternal Circle disciples step out onto the stage. Xander Azula surveys the crowd with a sense of focus before departing from his group and making his way towards the ring.

Bryan McVay: This match is for one fall. Introducing first, from Long Beach, California, weighing two-hundred-thirty pounds… he is XANDER AZULA!

The Eternal Circle leader rolls into the ring as his theme song comes to a close.

Joe Hoffman: Azula’s looking to avenge his recent loss to Jatt Starr at Bottomline.

Benny Newell: Avenge away. God fucking speed.

The slow, methodic melody of “Pursuit of Happiness” by Lissie drones out over the PA system. The house lights die down as a single spot light falls on the entrance. Boos join the steady baseline of the song adding to the depressing, drudging feel. Walking out onto the stage wanders Sutler Reynolds-Kael with a bitter, serious expression on his face.

Joe Hoffman: It’ll be Sutler’s first match since-

Benny Newell: Don’t even bother reminding me. Makes me sick what happened at Bottomline.

The Son of Scions seems rather disheveled as he walks towards ringside. Upon reaching the ring, SRK hops up onto the apron and wipes his feet off before sliding between the top and middle rope. The house lights rise as the spotlight goes away. Sutler slowly marches to the center of the ring where he stands, a somewhat depressed look on his face, different from the bitterness he would typically convey.

Bryan McVay: And his opponent, from Arkham, Massachusetts, weighing one-hundred-ninety-five pounds… I’m being told to check out his OnlyFan account… he is The Son of Scions… SUTLER REYNOLDS-KAEL!

McVay is barely able to finish the introduction as SRK turns to Xander Azula and tackles him to the ground. Referee Joel Hortega calls for the bell right before Sutler gets his licks in.

DING DING

Joe Hoffman: So let me get this straight, Sutler ASKS Bryan McVay to plug his OnlyFan account but hardly lets him finish his own introduction?

Benny Newell: Fucking Gen Z, huh Joe? And to think millennials were the problem…

Sutler mounts Azula and hurries his punches before Hortega reaches a count of five. Making sure he gets every shot possible, Sutler turns to look at the referee, practically looking through him as SRK stands and removes himself from the recovering Eternal Circle leader.

But not for long. Reynolds-Kael is back on the attack with vicious looking knee strikes to the side of Azula’s head. Sutler drives his right knee over and over into the neck and temple of Xander before lifting the Cali native up and Irish whipping him into the ropes.

Sutler connects with a jumping knee strike to Xander’s face. The Son of Scions mounts Azula again and reigns closed palm punches down while Hortega begins another five count. The count reaches four, Sutler drags Azula up and hurls him into the ropes… Xander jumps over SRK’s knee strike and bounces into the next set of ropes. Clearly Azula is hurting because he doesn’t hit the ropes with a lot of force. This allows Reynolds-Kael to turn around, find Azula and dropkick him to the mat.

Joe Hoffman: Sutler’s letting that anger out.

Benny Newell: Can you blame him? Virgin gaming fuckchild takes his title, Uncle Mike’s back, he’s following bullshit Cancer Jiles vs. Darin Zion. Christ. It’s a rough go right now.

Sutler continues the assault on Azula’s head and neck with numerous knee strikes. SRK attempts a bare naked choke but Azula breaks free, kicks Sutler in the chest and connects with a European uppercut. Sutler checks his jaw as Azula hits the ropes and clubs Sutler with a clothesline. However, SRK quickly rolls into the ropes and pulls himself up. He boots Azula away before lunging at the cult leader with a rising knee strike, catching Xander flush under the chin. Once again looking to take his frustrations out, Sutler tackles Azula to the ground. Reynolds-Kael tries for more fists to the side of Azula’s head but this time Xander is into the ropes rather quickly. Sutler doesn’t want to listen to Hortega but he reluctantly moves to the center of the ring, if only to pull his hair away from his eyes so he can see better.

Joe Hoffman: Sutler’s putting together a good match so far, albeit of a very intense approach…

Reynolds-Kael charges Azula and overwhelms him with palm strikes to the chest which move to the upper body, which once again move to target the head/neck area. Azula tries to break free but Sutler snatches Xander by the head and tosses him to the canvas. SRK follows this with an elbow drop and a submission attempt although the Cali native is in the ropes before Sutler can apply was looked to be a modified crossface.

The referee doesn’t have to count to five this time. Instead, Sutler kicks the canvas and rolls to the center of the ring. The War Games survivor shakes his head and charges at Azula the moment he’s on both feet. However, Xander pushes Kael to the canvas once… then a second time when SRK is back up to try the same thing. The third time Sutler rises…

Joe Hoffman: Spear by Xander!

Benny Newell: No you stupid fuck! Look!

As Azula tries to tackle Reynolds-Kael to the mat, Sutler instead side-steps, drop-toe-holds him and then slides into position to lock The Sutler Method in!

Joe Hoffman: You’re right, Benny! Sutler’s got the triangle choke applied!

It doesn’t take long for Xander Azula to tap.

DING DING DING

Bryan McVay: The winner of this match… SUTTTTLER REYNOLDS-KAEL!!!

Reynolds-Kael doesn’t let go until he hears his full name being announced as the winner. The Son of Scions drops the submission and rolls out of the ring.

Joe Hoffman: Very strong victory for Sutler here.

Benny Newell: What a statement. Azula got crushed. DRINK.

Sutler Reynolds-Kael walks up the ramp the same way he came down, looking rather disgruntled and frustrated as we cut back to Joe Hoffman at the announce desk.

Re-FUSED

Joe Hoffman: Earlier today I was able to sit down with the World Champion Conor Fuse and get his thoughts on what’s recently taken place between-

Benny Newell: Great, I need a piss break so I’ll be right back. [Still talking while taking his headset off] Fucking gaming NERD. Probably kills a small village every night in his panties while his mom is swallowing another…

The HOV comes alive and a video begins to play showing Joe Hoffman and Conor Fuse sitting across from one another in a black backdrop setting. Conor’s sporting a 97red three piece suit with various SNES imprints on it. The world title rests across Fuse’s left shoulder as Hoffman looks at his notes and then up at the champion.

Joe Hoffman: Conor, thank you for joining me this afternoon.

The Ultimate Gamer smiles pleasantly.

Conor Fuse: When is this interview gonna air?

Joe consults his notes again.

Joe Hoffman: I believe right after Xander Azula vs. Sutler Reynolds-Kael per the SOP of the High Octane Outlines.

Conor laughs.

Conor Fuse: Oh yeah, Sutler. Almost forgot about him. I guess that’s what happens when you’re left in the dust. Hate to say it but I told him so. I heard he’s been whining and complaining a lot, too. Then he whines and complains more because Mike’s back in the division so it’ll be even harder to regain the traction Sut’s lost. You know it’s funny, Joe, I always thought I’d be the one kicking and screaming if I didn’t get my way…

Fuse leans forward, locking his hands together and placing his elbows on his knees. He grins sadistically.

Conor Fuse: But I have got my way, haven’t I?

Joe’s facial expression conveys he’s not sure what Conor means so the champion elaborates.

Conor Fuse: Mike Best. Alcatraz. It’s all good with me.

Fuse looks around as if unsure whether he’s supposed to continue or not.

Conor Fuse: We’re- we’re good to go, right?

Hoffman nods.

Joe Hoffman: Yeah, absolutely. We can get right into things, Conor. You defeated Jatt last week and it ended in a standoff between you and Mike.

Hoffman likely has more to say but he can see the look on Conor’s face. The champion is in deep thought so Joe allows the session to breathe for a moment. Conor glances to his left, right and then directly at the interviewer.

Conor Fuse: I want to tell you a tale, Joe. By now I think it’s pretty clear I do my homework. Before I walked into High Octane, I knew about Mike. How could you not know about Mike? He’s only the best wrestler in the history of this sport. I don’t want to say ‘I came here FOR Mike’ because that would be a lie. I came here for many of the boys in the back… but I knew if I could get past all of them, a challenge beyond my wildest dreams would await and wouldn’t that be something? [Pause] I play video games, right Joe?

Conor pauses again, which catches Hoffman off guard. Realizing Fuse was actually asking the question, the interviewer answers although a little unsure of what Conor wanted out of him.

Joe Hoffman: Yeah? That’s clear with your outfit.

Conor agrees as he looks down at his suit and gets back to it.

Conor Fuse: Right. So Conor Fuse plays video games, lots of video games. I even play the High Octane ‘21 video game on Xbox, PlayStation, Switch, whatever. Sometimes, when I’m really feeling IT, I put the difficulty on the hardest setting possible… then I choose the worst !RANKed wrestler… and then I choose my opponent, Mike Best. And that’s pretty much what I’ll be doing on October 30th, no? Playing against the ultimate cheat code. I figure that’s what facing Mike is like in real life. Line up the odds, adjust them, adjust them some more, make sure everything is stacked against me and then… GO!

Fuse recalls where he was initially going.

Conor Fuse: Back to my tale. It’s a real simple one, Joe. I knew about Mike when I first joined HOW and if I could get to this level -pun intended- then I would have to be a pretty damn good player myself. And I am a pretty damn good player. I had significant doubts but I overcame them. I’ve had setbacks but I sucked it the fuck up and kept going. I might not BE Mike Best but I don’t want to be. And right now, regardless of who I am or who I am NOT… I have the top prize in wrestling and Mike wants it back.

Conor holds his arms out and opens them up.

Conor Fuse: So here we are.

Hoffman contemplates speaking but then thinks otherwise as Conor continues.

Conor Fuse: I’ve learned a lot in a year. You think I’m just going to lay over and die because the Son of GOD returns and knees me in the head? Mike’s been defeated before and he will be defeated again. Inside that ring, step through the ropes and you’re wrestling in MY world now. It was yours; now it’s MINE. Nobody else can touch me at the moment. I’m #FF white hot and I didn’t need to touch a fire flower, either. Two CAN and WILL play this game. You’re a hell of a fighter, Mike. A buttonmasher if you will but I can do things inside the squared circle others can only dream about. You know what’s funny, Joe?

Joe plays along.

Joe Hoffman: What’s funny, Conor?

Fuse laughs.

Conor Fuse: I actually think Jatt Starr’s a better wrestler than me. He’s the old vet who’s seen it all and counters my style real well. He’s not fast, he’s not graceful but he gets the job done. You wanna know how I beat him? I outsmarted him and, therefore, I outwrestled him. I know every fucking combo that guy’s gonna hit and I beat him at his own game. One star match, five star match… it doesn’t matter. What matters is I leave with this.

Conor smacks the championship belt on his shoulders.

Conor Fuse: Step into MY world, Son of God. Because by the time we get to Alcatraz, Imma know everything about you, too… from a wrestling sense that is. There’s no suplex I can’t counter. No backdrop where I can’t land on my feet. And no knee, that if I SEE coming, I won’t be able to shy away from.

Fuse looks into the camera.

Conor Fuse: Mike, I appreciated the things you said about me on commentary last week, like how I have potential, how I am the real deal. Some other comments though I didn’t really care for. Like how you’ll kick outta my splash, or think I will run out of energy. There’s more I could get into but let’s wrap this thing up, huh? We got what, three more shows after this before Alcatraz? Usually champions and challengers like to face off on the go-home show, right? Well I have gamer anxiety so I have trouble waiting for all the new releases. I need a presale code NOW.

Conor slowly stands and turns to the hard camera.

Conor Fuse: Why don’t we do this next week on the 75th edition of Re-FUSED. I meet Mike Best in the center of the ring… the ring that as of this moment I own and you plan to take back. Ohhh you’re good, you’re the best, Mike. We don’t have to go there. But I’m building something here. Something where everyone is starting to take notice… even the best wrestler in the World.

Fuse winks at Joe Hoffman, thanks him as the pretaped video ends and another one begins to play.

The Best Privileges

The High Octane Vision screen comes back quickly to life and we see the VERY man that Fuse was just talking about…..and in his own pretaped segment.

Mike Best: Hi, I’m Michael Lee Best, and I’m the number one contender to the HOW World Championship.

The camera opens on a pre-taped segment with a black curtain in the background, as the Son of God sits on a big wooden stool on an otherwise barren stage. He’s dressed in a simple black polo shirt with the logo for his wrestling academy on the upper right chest, a sleek pair of khakis, and his long hair slicked and pulled back.

Mike Best: But that’s not all I am. I’m a Hall of Famer. I’m a multi-multi-multi-time champion who has retired titles unbeaten, three times. I am the single greatest wrestler in the world today, by nearly every measurable metric. I am also… the first born and only biological son of Lee Best, the owner of High Octane Wrestling.

He crosses his leg up over his knee in a box shape, resting his hands on the money knee.

Mike Best: Some call it nepotism. They say that I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth. They say I’ve had everything handed to me. Some have even called it… privilege. And you know what? That last word… that’s the one that is stuck in my craw right now. Privilege. Cause you know what? I think they’re right.

He solemnly nods his head, in all sincerity.

Mike Best: I have… privilege.

The word looks as though it causes him great shame, as a visible shudder passes over his whole body. It once again can’t be emphasized enough that it isn’t sarcasm. Seriously.

Mike Best: White privilege. Best privilege. Athletic privilege. Male privilege. I’ll tell you, folks, I have privilege coming out the absolute wazoo, and for privilege to be coming out of the wazoo… well, that’s a lot of privilege. I’m told it’s not meant to come out of there.

He goes on, after a pause.

Mike Best: I have been granted opportunities that others have not. And while it might be up to me to make the best of those opportunists, and while I stand by the hard word I have done to achieve everything I’ve achieved in my career, I have to admit that Lee Best looks to his son to be a leader. I am given more opportunities than the rest of you. I am the highest paid wrestler on the roster, and I made a lot of that money sitting on my couch between ten second knockouts. It isn’t fair, and I acknowledge that. I have never given anything back for all the opportunities I’ve been granted.

He unfolds his legs, putting a hand on each knee and looking directly into the camera.

Mike Best: I know that a lot of you think I’m the bad guy here, and you couldn’t be further from the truth. Maybe I’m a little old school. Maybe I tell it like it is a little too often. Conor Fuse is a good guy. Heck, he’s a great guy. And that’s why you’re all so angry about my number one contendership, right? Because you think that Conor Fuse is such a great guy, and you think I’m such a crummy one. But hey… I’m a pretty good guy too! And it’s time for me to give something back.

From off camera, a small African American child walks into the shot, sidling up next to Mike Best and wearing a t-shirt that says “Smart Fan”. It’s a little too big for him.

Mike Best: Meet Jamal. Jamal, say hello to all the people in Denver.

Jamal waves at the camera, smiling and giggling shyly. Michael hoists him up off the stage, plopping him down on his knee like Santa Clause at the mall.

Mike Best: Jamal’s parents don’t own a wrestling company. He doesn’t come from money. He’s never wrestled for a World Title. Now that might be because he’s only 8, but it might also be… because he’s underprivileged. Urban kids like Jamal here deserve the same shot at a good life that guys like me have. They deserve opportunities that they can make the best of. So it’s time I spread some of my privilege… to the underprivileged. And not just to Jamal, either!

The black curtain behind him opens up, revealing five more children standing in the view of the camera. Another black child, two hispanic boys, a hispanic girl, and a black girl. They’re all wearing “Smart Fan” t-shirts and smiling at the camera, just happy to be on TV.

Mike Best: Jamal. Hector. Alexis. Malik. Antonio. Isabella. A half dozen inner city kids with dreams to one day escape the harsh realities of life in the ghetto.I have decided to spend my own money– not HOW’s money, or some scam foundation’s money, but my own hard earned money– to pay for their higher education. And not just any higher education, either– these six children that I’m passing my privilege along to will attend the most prestigious school imaginable.

He gestures toward the logo on his shirt.

Mike Best: Meet the SixTime Six. The NEXT next generation of High Octane stars.

With a huge smile on his face, Michael gives a big thumbs up to the camera. The children, clearly directed from offstage to do the same, give the thumbs up as well.

Mike Best: With the right leadership, the right training, and the right education, I am personally saving these poor inner city children from lives of poverty or crime. Some have even said that I’m their personal savior, but heck… I’m just trying to make a difference. Maybe it took me a while to become “woke”, but I can assure you all that I am now wide awake. Two great guys throwing hands, live on pay-per-view… who could possibly boo that? Certainly not a smart fan. A baby or a moron, maybe, but certainly no one intelligent. So Conor Fuse, congratulations on retaining your title against Jatt Starr last week– it’s my privilege to give you the biggest match of your career at Rumble at the Rock.

Michael lifts Jamal off his lap, setting him back down on his feet on the stage. He claps his hands together excitedly, with a huge grin on his face. He turns back toward the SixTime Six, putting his hands on his knees to lean down to their level.

Mike Best: Alright kids, who’s hungry? Let’s get some PIZZA!

All of the kids go fucking apeshit for pizza, because that’s what kids do when you offer them pizza. The pre-taped interview fades out, as Refueled cuts to a commercial break.

A commercial with all the best intentions…….obviously.

 

Greedy Reservations

Back from commercial and Blaire Moise is standing by outside of Brian Hollywood’s locker room. As she’s about to knock, though, the door opens from the inside as Brian Hollywood emerges from within. He immediately sees Blaire and almost has a heart attack, but he’s able to contain himself.

Brian Hollywood: Jesus H tap dancing Christ, Blaire! I thought you were Brian Bare for a second and that would have been bad for him. What can I do for you?

Blaire doesn’t flinch at Hollywood’s remarks about Bare and just like Hollywood, she ignores him on a seconds thought. Hollywood looked reserved and didn’t seem to be annoyed that he was caught having to do another one of these damn interview sessions. Still, it seemed like he actually wanted to say a few things.

Blaire Moise: Ever since you’re return and your temporary incarceration at Alcatraz, you’ve been almost a different person. There is a familiarity to your stature, but you seem like you’ve been focused like you’ve been set on a particular path. A lot of talk has been growing about this 7 deadly sins match at Alcatraz and really to no one’s surprise, you’re the greed out of the seven. Care to talk a little bit about that?

Hollywood smiles slightly as he brushes his hair back with his hand. Hollywood nods ever so slightly as well as he really takes a moment to dissect the question.

Brian Hollywood: Honestly, Blaire? I’m already riding the momentum as we’re set on cruise control to Alcatraz. But let me counter this with another question for you? Is greed really such a bad thing? I mean, sure, it’s destroyed me before, but I was careless. I had everything I wanted because I chased after it. Nothing meant anything to me than leveraging myself into a position of power. It’s the ultimate end game for me to obtain it and this is where it starts. I’ve come and gone since HOW reopened its doors but when we came back, I should have won what I never truly lost..and that was the HOW World Championship. I think the worst part was that I actually got to the tournament finals for the HOW World Championship and then that’s where it all went out of control. I didn’t stop to consider what a guy like Halitosis would do and what winning a world title would mean for him. I put my chips in a bad basket and that’s a mistake I won’t make again. I’m rejuvenated and I forgot what this feeling was like. I should have it all…someone who wants power and wants to do something with it than sit on the sidelines and bitch and complain like I had a HOW microphone deepthroated in my mouth. But that’s beside the point.

Brian Hollywood: Take what happened last week when I destroyed Doozer like the dumb envious son of a bitch that he is. I told Doozer exactly what I was going to do and I did it. I’m done with the distractions and I’m done with the bullshit. I’m all in at this point and I’ve got my chips in play at the table. But the difference this time around is that I’m not playing games anymore. It felt good going out to that ring and demoralizing Doozer. He was a stepping stone to something greater just like the other five deadly sins are. Honestly, greed is the worst one out of all of them. You want to know why, Blaire? It’s because greed doesn’t play fair. When you’re as greedy as I am, you want it all and you don’t care how you go about obtaining it as long as you can. Well that’s exactly what I plan on doing moving forward.

Blaire Moise: Interesting response. So what can we expect from you going forward as we get closer to Rumble at the Rock?

Hollywood scoffs at the answer as you can see his eyes light up with desire.

Brian Hollywood: You can expect that I’m going to continue to make a few more changes around here, but I’m not going to wait to get them. I already have plans carefully laid out and after what I did to Doozer last week, I just have this craving…this itch to continue. It’s an addiction, Blaire, and I just want more of it! I don’t care how I get it and who I have to run over to reach it…I’m going to get there and I’m not going to be remorseful of who is left behind. What you saw last week in what I did against Doozer is the ultimate endgame for me that I’m heading up.

Brian Hollywood: Gone are the days of making Executive Promises. Those promises weren’t always kept and if anyone who’s known me long enough knows that I always keep my promises. We’re beyond that now because what you witnessed twice in that ring last week was more than a promise….it was a decree. I’ve officially laid the gauntlet down and now it’s time that I move beyond the promises. Call it an Executive Decree and my decree moving forward is to destroy and lay to waste the other deadly sins that simply don’t hold up to greed. You can’t stop greed when it always has ways of getting more of the pie and when you combine greed with decree, it’s just a recipe for destruction and ultimately, power. I’m coming for that power again and everything else is just in my way in seizing what’s rightfully mine. Now if you’ll excuse me Blaire, I’ve got another opportunity to strengthen my resolve going forward. You lay down the Executive Decree because a promise and anything else that isn’t submissive enough is just a waste of time. Sometimes you got to tell people exactly what it’s going to be and force the issue…one way or another..

With that, Hollywood nods at Blaire before walking down the hallway and out of sight as the show heads back to commentary.

Mike Best and Steve Solex vs. Bobbinette Carey and Scottywood

Hall of Fame Tag Team Match

We return to the High Octane ring in the center of the Pepsi Center with the crowd roaring excitedly for the next match.

Joe Hoffman: Ladies and gentlemen up next we have something very special for you, a Hall of Fame Tag Team Match pitting Mike Best and Steve Solex against Scottywood and a returning Bobbinette Carey!

Benny Newell: Don’t forget the special guest referee, Hoffman!

Joe Hoffman: Of course, as we all found out earlier tonight Sutler Reynolds-Kael will be replacing Matt Boettcher as the referee for this match, an order from the front office.

Benny Newell: I heard from my sources, B, that the change in this match was part of that 970,000 page contract!

Joe Hoffman: Really? So the contract stipulated that this match should happen, before we knew Carey was back, and that it should include Sutler as the referee? That seems pretty far fetched, Benny.

Benny Newell: Are you questioning GOD? Do you have DOUBT about all that has and will happen in the land of High Octane? Huh? Do ya?

Joe has nothing….so he says nothing.

We quickly cut to in the ring where we see Bobbinette Carey, Scottywood and Solex. Carey and Scotty stand in their respective corner while Solex remains outside the ring stalking around his corner of the ringside area. Sutler is standing in the middle of the ring wearing a referee shirt.

“Hellalujah” by Hanzel und Gretyl tears out over the speakers with it’s divinely inspired blasphemy. The crowd is immediately torn as a mixture of cheers and boos echo around the arena.

The steady grind of the music slaps through the Pepsi Center as Mike Best steps slowly out onto the stage. Bobbing his head up and down to the beat of his own music the Hall of Famer’s dark hair sweeping back and forth. He stares out at the crowd while flipping the camera off, his middle finger bearing the HoF ring in all it’s bejeweled glory. There is a moderate pop for the Hall of Fame ring, you decide what that means.

Solex joins Mike at his side as both climb up into the ring, their eyes trained on their opponents. The music dies down, replaced by the growing excited noise of the Pepsi Center as Bryan McVay begins introductions.

Bryan McVay: The following is the Hall of Fame Tag Match!

The crowd bursts with excitement at the prospect of seeing four Hall of Fame competitors from across the eras battle it out.

Bryan McVay: Introducing first the Hall of Fame team of SCOTTYWOOOOOOOOOD! And..

Scotty glares across the ring at Mike Best, a series of offensive words and spit fly from his lips.In any other case he might have been booed but at this moment the fans are excited to see this match go down.

Bryan McVay: ..BOOOOOBBINETTE CAAAAAAREY!

The crowd explodes for the returning Carey before melting over into boos when the crowd remembers her recent actions. Bobbinette offers a royal wave and a smile to the crowd in her own mind there is no doubt the crowd is offering their absolute adulation.

Bryan McVay: And their opponents, the Hall of Fame team of STEEEEEEEEEVE SOLEX! And..

Solex is also greeted by very aggressive cheers from very specific fans though they are quickly overpowered by boos. If Steve notices or even cares it doesn’t show as he stares at his opponents with a sinister look.

Bryan McVay: MIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIKE BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEST!

Much like his entrance Mike is met with a mixture of cheers and boos causing Mike to shrug and shake his head. He smirks and whispers something to Solex and for a moment you see the mustached maniac smile before it is once again suppressed by something sinister.

Bryan McVay: The referee is.. Sigh.. potential Hall of Fame referee Sutler Reynolds-Kael.

Leaning against the ropes on his phone is Sutler who seems to chuckle to himself at his own introduction. As McVay leaves Sutler immediately moves to Mike demanding his Hall of Fame ring from him. Mike’s smirk waivers for a moment with a look of surprise before he exchanges a few heated words.

Benny Newell: What the fuck is this shit, Matt Boettcher wouldn’t harrass Mike like this!

Joe Hoffman: I mean, technically Sutler is well within his rights to demand Mike hand over the Hall of Fame ring.

Benny Newell: He didn’t demand anyone else’s ring!

Joe Hoffman: Mike is the only person to have worn his ring down to the squared circle, Benny.

Benny Newell: Well he should have still asked! The more I learn about this Sutler character the less I like him!

After a tense moment Mike begrudgingly hands over the ring to Sutler. The SRK takes the ring with a smirk, winking at his uncle before signalling for the bell.

DING! DING! DING!

Starting for her team is Bobbinette Carey who marches confidently toward the center of the ring as the fans eagerly cheer. It is Mike Best who smuggly steps toward Carey not hesitating to spew vitriol into the Queen’s face. It is unsure what is said but Carey looks furious and Sutler begins to laugh despite his best efforts.

With surprising speed Carey’s hand connects with the side of Mike Best’s head, clapping him across the ear. He stumbles to the side as Bobbi charges forward with a rising knee. Mike scouts the attack and spins connecting his elbow with the back Carey’s head stunning the Queen. Mike begins a flurry of elbow strikes to Bobbinette’s upper body forcing her into the ropes.

Joe Hoffman: Carey and Mike exchanging some early blows here.

Benny Newell: Do you think Bobbinette’s outfit makes squeaky noises when she moves around?

Joe Hoffman: No I.. What on Earth are you talking about?!

Benny Newell: Squeak squeak.

Sutler immediately jumps in demanding Mike back up while Carey shakes the cobwebs free. Mike swaggers away, shrugging toward his nephew before flipping him off. Best waits a few moments before he darts back in on Carey grabbing a handful of hair as he peels her away from the ropes. The Queen manages to break free of Mike with a flurry of body shots before taking to the ropes.

Joe Hoffman: Carey building up speed!

Benny Newell: SQUEAK, SQUEAK, SQUEAK!

Joe Hoffman: Benny, stop it!

Mike manages to counter a clothesline into a Fujiama, dragging Carey to her stomach in the middle of the ring! She screams and thrashes around but the prize fighter has her arm locked. Scotty immediately charges in, kicking Mike in the side of the head as he releases the hold. Instinctually Mike rolls away while covering up as Scotty drags Carey to their corner, tagging himself in.

Joe Hoffman: A smart save there by Scottywood, dragging his partner back to their corner though I don’t think our official really cares.

Benny Newell: He’s been on his fucking phone this entire match! You know I used to like this kid but he’s turning out to be a real piece of shit!

Joe Hoffman: Most of your best friends are pieces of poo aren’t they?

Benny Newell: The good kinds of shit, Hoffman, obviously! This kid is a Bad Shit!

The man formerly known as Scott Woodson savagely charges Mike with all of the subtlety of a mac truck. He reigns down a flurry of kicks and punches as Best does his best to cover up in the corner. Looking up from his phone Sutler sees Scottywood pounding Mike in the corner and starts yelling at him.

Benny Newell: Finally! Do your JOB SUTLER!

Joe Hoffman: Some very lax officiating by Sutler however Scotty certainly not one to pass up a chance to inflict pain is benefiting from it.

Benny Newell: You don’t fucking say!?

Scotty slowly steps away from Mike though it’s clear the only reason he’s doing so is to create space to build up steam. Charging back in, Scotty looks to bash in his opponent’s head with his boot but Mike is able to wriggle out of the way and outside the ring. Scottywood follows him outside as Sutler goes back to scrolling on his phone.

Joe Hoffman: Scotty keeping the pressure on on Mike as he follows the last HOFC Champion of HOW outside the ring.

Benny Newell: Someone get Hortega out here, he’d do a better fucking job!

Noticing that Sutler wasn’t paying attention Mike turns toward the approaching Scottywood and kicks him square in the balls!

Joe Hoffman: Mike Best with a blatant low blow to Scottywood but without Sutler watching it’s as legal as a wrist lock!

Benny Newell: Sutler is the kind of referee that just likes to see a healthy, competitive match is all, Hoffman! A future Hall of Famer!

Joe Hoffman: Right, Benny. Sure.

The crowd lets out a collective OOOOOOOH before they boo Mike who once again shrugs and seems to mouth “oops”. Dragging Scotty back up to his feet he tosses him back into the ring, moving to his own corner where he tags in Solex. The Multiple Man-Man jumps in and immediately goes to work on Scotty, hammering the HATEful Hall of Famer with a series of stiff kicks.

Joe Hoffman: Solex in the ring for the first time this match and he is immediately tending to Scottywood.

Benny Newell: Is it Solex? Or is it Breginda the 11th level Barbarian Orc?

Joe Hoffman: What are you on about now?

Benny Newell: My conspiracy source, “L”, told me that was Solex’s new personality after he started taking BlueChew!

Pulling Scotty to his feet Solex works him over with a series of chops though with each successive chop Woodson seems less and less effected. Unleashing a primal snarl Scottywood headbutted Solex hard across the bridge of his nose, dazing him. Scotty connects with successive rights and lefts as his opponent’s defenses begin to falter. Sensing Solex’s stamina meter growing low Scotty sends him into the ropes..

Joe Hoffman: Scotty has shifted the momentum back into his corner!

Benny Newell: Solex don’t fuck this up!

A huge Spinebuster knocks at least two personalities loopy. Scotty drops for the pinfall as Sutler stares down at them. With a sigh Sutler stops his foot while counting.

ONE!

TWO!

TH-

Before he can stomp a third time Solex throws his shoulder up. Gnashing his teeth, Scotty drags Solex to his corner tagging in Carey. The two of them proceed to work over Solex with a series of tag team moves. Which tag team moves? Imagine them because I never got a list, they are probably pretty cool. Good shit. In either case they work over Solex resulting in Scotty executing an Ice Kick right to the side of Solex’s head causing his body to go limp.

Benny Newell: FUCK! DRINK! FUCK!

Joe Hoffman: Scotty scores the ICE KICK right on the money! He has Solex dead to rights!

Scotty hooks the leg as Carey jumps between the ropes! Mike jumps over the top rope realizing the severity of what is happening. Sutler begins his counting and starts half paying attention to what’s happening..

ONE!

TWO!

THRE-

As Carey lunges at Mike he uses her momentum to connect with a wicked I KNEED A HERO! His momentum carries both Carey and Mike into Scotty breaking up the pinfall!

Joe Hoffman: Incredible save, incredible ring awareness!

Benny Newell: Mike Best is a fucking DEMI-GOD in the absence of our One True God, Lee!

Scotty scrambles up to his feet..

I KNEED A HERO!

The crowd’s mixed reaction melts away into a cacophony of rabid cheers at the sight of the I KNEED SOME HEROES! With all three other Hall of Famers down Mike stands alone in the ring.

CRACK!

Benny Newell: DONKEY PUNCH?! WHAT THE FUCK?!

Mike’s head tilts forward and to the left as his eyes roll up into the back of his head. The cheering becomes an overwhelming roar of boos as a scowling Sutler Reynolds-Kael stands over his downed uncle. Glittering on Sutler’s offending fist is Mike’s Hall of Fame ring. Sutler drags Mike’s limp body toward Solex, dropping him face down near his partner.

YOU-ARE-TRASH!

YOU-ARE-TRASH!

YOU-ARE-TRASH!

The crowd makes their feelings known as Sutler slaps Scottywood across the face, waking him out of his Knee haze. Scotty stares at the carnage in the ring unsure what happened but happy to take advantage. Scotty drags Solex upto his feet..

GAME MISCONDUCT!

Benny Newell: No… NO!

Joe Hoffman: What the hell is going on?!

Solex’s head is driven down into the ring as Scotty floats over for a pinfall!

Sutler mounts the back of his Uncle lifting his fist high into the air..

ONE!

TWO!

Benny Newell: FUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK

Joe Hoffman: Are they about to do it!?

THREE!!!

There are no cheers or boos, the crowd has instead become uncomfortably silent. Rather than the customary three count Sutler had smashed his fist with the ring into the back of his uncle’s head. The first is uncomfortable to see, the second causes a sickening tearing sound and the third sends a splatter of blood to splash up across Sutler’s face. He signals for the bell with a hand dripping with blood.

DING! DING! DING!

Bryan McVay: YOUR WINNERS THE TEAM OF SCOOOOOOTTYWOOD AND BOBBINETTE CAAAAREY!

“Beg” by Seether cranks out over the sound system. Carey has recovered enough to celebrate with Scottywood though the two of them give Sutler a wide berth. Sutler stares down at the bloodied back of his Uncle’s head before slowly standing up. His eyes slide to the ring on his head that is stained #97red. He demands a microphone as the music quietly dies out.

SRK: You can’t hear me now but you’ll see this in a replay when you wake up, I’m sure. I remember when I first started at Five.. well, Six Time Academy now. You told me when you came to HOW or anywhere, the best way to make yourself known is by taking out the Hall of Famers. Great advice, Uncle Mike.

Slipping the ring off his finger the Son of Scions slipped it into his pocket with a smug look.

SRK: You want your precious Hall of Fame ring back? I want my Goddamn World Title rematch. Make it happen, Uncle Mike. Sutler Out.

Tossing the mic away, Sutler exits the ring as medics rush past him. Mike Best can be seen starting to stir as we cut away to commercial break.

It’s weawwy somethin

Back live and draped in front of a long folding table was a custom-designed Reesemart banner for the tour stop at the Pepsi Center. I’ll give you one guess as to what particular company may be filing a copyright suit. Here’s a hint: they’re in the Pepsi Center. As to the contents of the gimmicks for sale, QT had obviously had tonight’s Colorado market in mind.

Oh, you bet there were plenty of Inverted Ty Cobb Mittens on display in preparation for the upcoming ski season. Reese had also handcrafted little burlap pouches with the Reesemart Target mock-up embroidered on them, marketed by a laminated label as “QT Stashers” for fashionable marijuana storage. And, due to their popularity from his last promotional video, the Reesemart hand towels had been restocked, only with a healthy “limited edition” markup for $40 instead of the $20 he was charging at the Fun Hole.

Surprisingly, the stock was flying off the table at a pretty rapid rate. The High Octane faithful in Denver had really caught the Reesemart fever. Business was certainly booming, and Reese seemed to be elated for the first time in a while.

Equally elated was the sole Reesemart employee and fellow professional wrestler, Ethan Giles. But Ethan was always pretty happy, and not just due to the fact that his lucha libre mask had a permanent smile plastered on it. While his contract for employment was signed by way of “assistance” from QT’s hand, you couldn’t have asked for a more enthusiastic indentured servant. He was thrilled to do all of the fucking work while Reese feverishly looked through a LuLaRoe brochure, underlining and scribbling notes in advance preparation of Phase Four of his business plan which would introduce multi-level marketing to the Reesemart franchise.

But unfortunately, his plans for the future would have to wait.

Jatt Starr: There he is, Geppetto Junior.

QT’s satisfied grin began to lower to a frown as he felt the tapping on his shoulder and the recognizable voice of HOW’s other small business owner and fellow ripper-offer of Steve Harrison’s old schtick. Without turning, he mutters his response. The Thane of Starrkarth, flanked by his cronies, Anton and the Wabid Wabbit come into the frame. Jatt Starr, looking as smug as ever.

QT Reese: Hello, Jatt. Let me guess. You’re here to see what an actual sale looks like?

Jatt Starr: So antagonistic! Look, I get it, I know what you’re thinking…Anton? What is he thinking?

Anton: How the fuck should I know?

The Ruler of Jattlantis shakes his head, still eyeing Reese as he does so before snapping his fingers as he were summoning a waiter that likely would spit in his food at some swanky bistro.

Jatt Starr: Wabbit?

Wabid Wabbit: The futiwity of wife?

Jatt Starr: Surrounded by morons, am I right?

The Ruler of Jattlantis points to Reese with both hands and makes a clicking sound.

Jatt Starr: Q-Bert, my man, I saw what you did last week. Color me impressed. Sure, I was somewhat peeved you inked a deal with Lee to have ReeseMart sponsor “Rumble at the Rock” and you won the TV Championship last week, but hey, business is business! You don’t have to hang around my mentor and best friend, Steve Harrison to know that. Let’s talk in my terms here, you’re some goofy kid without friends who was learning to cobble shoes from a bunch of elves, when it hits you to start a shoe business which suddenly became knockoff boxstore, so you come to the HOW to make a name for yourself and your “ReeseMart” brand, am I right?

Reese opens his mouth to answer but the Jattinum Standard promptly cuts him off.

Jatt Starr: I look at you, I see it, you’re motivated, you’re hip, you’re happening. But there’s one thing you’re missing here, Q-Tip, a little name recognition. Well, look no more, the HOW is my turf, I am offering you something here that is….Wabbit, how would you describe it?

Wabid Wabbit: It’s weawwy somethin’, awight.

Jatt Starr: This is what I am offering you. An exclusive deal to sell all “Sutler Kael Sucks” merchandise and smoothie ingredients in your stores, sky’s the limit there the health food business is a seven hundred billion dollar industry plus you get the the greatest HOW Legend, and the impossibly handsome Jatt Starr as your spokesperson. Honestly, it’s a little too one sided in your favor, but I’m in a generous mood….and you can get the ball rolling right here and all it will cost you is the low, low cost of sponsorship deal at “Rumble at the Rock”. Anton!

Anton pulls out a contact of about sixty pages and a pen and hands them over to the Ruler of Jattlantis, who in turn, offers them to QT Reese.

Jatt Starr: All you gotta do is sign twelve times and initial next to each addendum, so to save time, I suggest you just not bother reading it.

QT takes the contract from Jatt’s hands and sets it on his lap, accepting the pen along with it as a smug grin comes across the face of the HOW Hall of Famer. QT Reese begins clicking the back of the pen as stares at the contract.

Click…click…click…click…click…

Jatt Starr’s smile begins to wane as he grows increasingly impatient with Reese and each “clicking” sound becomes louder and louder….

Jatt Starr: WELL?

QT Reese: You know, as much as I think you’re incompetent as a salesman, I can’t lie: the health food angle isn’t a bad idea. I don’t really want to give up my sponsorship deal, but you drive a pretty hard bargain, Starr. Tell you what. Let me run this by my attorney and I’ll get back to you.

Jatt Starr: But attorneys will read…er…will just fill your head with legal mumbo jumbo like “objection” and “sustained” and “jury tampering”.

QT Reese: I SAID I’LL FUCKING GET BACK TO YOU!

QT Reese takes the pen and the contract and leaves.

Wabid Wabbit: He just took my pen. I weawwy wiked that pen.

Jatt Starr just stares at the direction of where QT Reese had exited as the scene comes to an end.

GIMME WHAT I WANT

Backstage in the Pepsi Center, Michael Lee Beat can be seen sitting on a table in the medic room— his hair is slick with sweat and blood after the attack suffered earlier tonight at the hands of his nephew, Sutler Kael.

The Son of God is literally seething in his seat, as he attempts to be patient while an EMT finishes stitching up the open wound on the back of his skull. The needle and thread is still dangling as Michael thrusts himself up from the table, nearly knocking over the medic in the process.

Mike Best: FUCK THAT LITTLE INGRATE!

The number one contender smashes a foot into a medical cart, sending bandages and supplies skittering around the room as the medical staff recoil in surprise. The cart careens into the wall with a crash, as Michael grabs hold of the camera by the front and stares into the lens.

Mike Best: I fucking took you to Disney, you piece of shit. I treated you like my own flesh and blood. I fucking TRAINED YOU, SUTLER! You think this is cute? You think it’s funny to cost me a match and take something that doesn’t belong to you?!

He shoves the cameraman back, shaking the frame and turning back toward the table. He literally flips the gurney, losing his temper on television for the first time in over a year in very extreme fashion.

Mike Best: I’m a Hall of Famer. I’m a fucking legend. I am the GREATEST WRESTLER ON THE PLANET. But you think it’s funny. You think everything is a goddamned joke. Whoever the fuck is making the matches right now… front office, fucking… Reesemart… put him in the fucking match. Put him in the title match.

He slams a fist into the wall, chipping the plaster away and leaving a solid dent in the drywall.

Mike Best: It’s your FUCKING general, Sutler. See what I do to Kaels at Rumble at the fucking Rock. Now GIMME BACK MY FUCKING RING!

With one more violent shove, Michael throws the camera man backward to the floor. The camera crashes to the tile, skittering sideways as we see a cockeyed shot of Michael sitting back down at the table. He beckons for the medic, preparing to have his wound closed the rest of the way as we take our final commercial break.

 

#13 High Flyer vs. #3 John Sektor

LSD Championship Match

Back live and the PA system comes alive as we hear All Aboard! AH HA HA HA HA HA HA HA…” A light fog rises up from the entrance way as the opening guitar rift kicks in. Parting the smoke is High Flyer, who stands confidently at the top of the entrance ramp.

Joe Hoffmann: High Flyer, coming off “Bottomline” with a heartbreak of a loss to—

Benny Newell: RAH!!!! RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!

Joe Hoffmann: And in just moments, High Flyer has the opportunity to redeem himself by becoming the LSD Champion!

Benny Newell: Not on your fucking life! High Flyer hasn’t done shit recently and he won’t do shit tonight. Except shit all over that ring with fucking badness.

High Flyer tosses one hand up in a devil horn taunt, and smiles slyly to the camera. He stomps his way to the ring, paying very little attention to the crowd. Once he reaches ringside, he slips in under the bottom rope, then sprawls on his back. He begins to make snow angels while residing on his back, looking up at the lights before recovering to his feet. As the announcer introduces High Flyer, he leaps onto the second ropes and looks out to the crowd. The music fades and Brian McVay, in the center of ring has the microphone.

Brian McVay: The following contest is scheduled for one fall and it is for the LSD Championship!!!! Currently in the ring, weighing in at 224 pounds, HIIIIIIIIGH FLYYYYYYYYYYYER!!!!!

The crowd gives High Flyer a generous ovation.

Brian McVay: And his opponent……weighing in at 245 pounds…..he is the LSD CHAMPION……JOHN SEEEEEEEEEEKTOOOOOOOOOOOR!!!!!!

“Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap’ by AC/DC fills the arena but not enough to drown out the overwhelming boos and jeers and profanities hurled the Golden Standard’s way as he emerges from the curtain and makes his way down the ramp.

Joe Hoffmann: Here is the champion, looking focused—-

Benny Newell: And pissed off! Pissed off that he has lower his standards by having to defend his LSD Championship against some fucking piss jockey who hasn’t earned it.

Joe Hoffmann: Earned it or not, Sektor should not underestimate High Flyer.

Benny Newell: This is some fucking bullshit. But the good news? At least it will be quick!

Sektor walks up the ring steps, enters the ring, no showboating, no playing up to the fans, just business. He hands the championship to the ref who holds it over his head. He hands it to Brian McVay who exits the ring and Joel Hortega sounds for the bell.

“DING!”

Sektor and High Flyer approach each other, Sektor goes to lock up but High Flyer ducks and then gives a Sektor a boot to the ass, much to the delight of the fans.

Benny Newell: What the hell is that? Disqualify him, Hortega! That’s a low blow if ever I saw one!

Joe Hoffmann: High Flyer seems like he is toying with the Gold Standard.

Sektor is fuming and High Flyer goes to lock up, Sektor reaches for High Flyer but Hiigh Flyer ducks again and gives Sektor a quick kick to the back of Sektor’s thigh. Sektor immediately turns and gets hit by a standing dropkick. Sektor drops to the mat as High Flyer hits the ropes, Sektor is up quickly and gets nailed by a springboard forearm. The crowd is ecstatic.

Joe Hoffmann: Jack Harmen is taking it to the LSD Champion.

Benny Newell: This is some bullshit.

Sektor is up, angry, he charges High Flyer, who ducks a clothesline and immediately delivers a German Suplex on Sektor. Sektor starts to get up but gets nailed with a kick to the side of the head. High Flyer goes for the cover…..

UNO!!!!

DOS!!!

Kickout by Sektor.

Joe Hoffmann: Solid two count.

Benny Newell: Yeah, and now Sektor’s going to unleash fuck ton of vengeance on that shitbird! DRINK!

High Flyer pulls up Sektor and attempts to whip him into the ropes, Sektor counters, High Flyer hits the ropes, Sektor drops his head and High Flyer nails a neckbreaker. High Flyer is up in a hurry. He heads to the corner, hops to the top rope, High Flyer leaps, looking for *****½ Frog Splash!

Benny Newell: NOOOOOO!!!!!

But Sektor got his knees up, High Flyer rolls off clutching his sternum. Both men spend the moments on the ground, but Sektor is the first to get up with the help of the ropes. Sektor slouches in the corner, waiting as High Flyer gets up and staggers, winded. Sektor hobbles over to High Flyer and gives him a hard punch to the face. Sektor proceeds to whip High Flyer into the corner. High Flyer is sent chest first, he stumbles backward, Sektor spins High Flyer around, picks him up and nails a gut buster. Sektor grabs his right knee and limps a bit as High Flyer struggles to breathe.

Benny Newell: Look at Sektor, the LSD Champion, putting his body on the line!

Joe Hoffmann: I don’t know if this situation counts, but Sektor is favoring that knee right now.

Sektor again lies in wait as High Flyer gets to his feet. Sektor proceeds to lock in the Abdominal Stretch.

Joe Hoffmann: It’s clear that Sektor is targeting the midsection!

Benny Newell: He’s a fucking genius like….like….Jim Beam!!!

High Flyer attempts to reach for the ropes but Sektor nails him in the midsection with a forearm. The pain is apparent on High Flyer’s face as the crowds begins cheering him on. High Flyer attempts to reach for the rope again, Sektor begins wailing on High Flyer’s ribs. Joel Hortega begins admonishing Sektor for his use of close handed fists. High Flyer, as Sektor jaws at the ref, reaches out and grabs the rope. Joel Hortega begins to count out Sektor who has not relinquished the hold…..

….UNO…

….DOS…

….TRES…

….FOUR…

…CIN—

….Sektor releases the hold and takes a step backward. As High Flyer turns, Sektor nails him with another boot to the stomach and delivers a double underhook suplex. Sektor drops down to a knee as High Flyer crumples to the mat.

Benny Newell: A-HA! There’s the Sektor I love. DRINK!

Joe Hoffmann: The tide has certainly turned but you have wonder how bad that knee is.

Benny Newell: It’s just scratch, Hoffhole! He’s SEKTOR!!!

Sektor slowly rises and stalks High Flyer who immediately kicks Sektor in the knee. Sektor drops down but not for long he is back up and nails High Flyer with a right hand, then another, then another. A boot to the gut by Sektor. Sektor lifts up High Flyer, looking for a suplex, High Flyer counters into a small package. Hortega with the count….

ONE!!!!

TWO!!!!

Kickout!!!!

Both men are up. High Flyer hits a dropkick to the knee. Sektor is down. High Flyer grabs Sektor’s leg and gives it a kick to the back of the knee. High Flyer starts heading to the corner…climbing up…but Sektor gets to his feet, High Flyer jumps from the second turnbuckle and lands an enziguri which drops Sektor. High Flyer begins kicking and stomping at Sektor’s knee.

Benny Newell: Why? Why can’t I have nice things like Sektor ripping the entrails from Jack Harmen’s ass.

Joe Hoffmann: High Flyer is really working on Sektor’s knee.

Benny Newell: Fuck you, Hoffhole.

High Flyer is up as Sektor rolls on the mat, the HOW fans are eating this up. Sektor is up and High Flyer delivers a Double Underhook Brainbuster!

Joe Hoffmann: Hypothermia! High Flyer with the cover!

High Flyer hooks the leg as Hortega counts….

UNO!

DOS!

TR—–

SHOULDER UP!!!

Joe Hoffmann: Two and a half! I thought High Flyer had him there!

Benny Newell: I didn’t! It’s John Fucking Sektor!

High Flyer rolls off of Sektor. High Flyer pulls Sektor to his feet, Sektor, out of nowhere, hits a belly-to-belly suplex. Both men are on the ground. Sektor is the first up, he stomps on High Flyer’s chest….once, twice, three times, four times, after the fifth he limps away. High Flyer slowly rises, Sektor grabs High Flyer and whips him into the corner, High Flyer hits back first, the impact sends him forward and gets nailed by a spinning elbow to the chest. Jack Harmen drops.

Joe Hoffmann: A hard shot to Harmen’s sternum!

Benny Newell: That elbow was just like I like my porn…nasty!

Sektor pulls up High Flyer and lifts him up in a vertical suplex position and drops him forward into a gourdbuster. Sektor hobbles over to High Flyer and proceeds to lock in a sharpshooter. High Flyer begins scrambling, reaching for the ropes.

Joe Hoffmann: Can High Flyer get there?

Benny Newell: I fucking hope not! TAP!!! TAP!!! DRINK!!!

High Flyer grabs the bottom rope. Sektor limps past Hortega and kicks High Flyer in the back. Sektor pulls up High Flyer and whips him into the ropes but High Flyer hops onto the second rope, springboards and nails a Lou Thesz press and he begins laying into Sektor with a flurry of punches!

Joe Hoffmann: We have quite the match here, Benny! A real back and forth affair.

Benny Newell: It’s gotta go back to Sektor and Sektor must “forthingly” kill High Flyer!

Joe Hoffmann: That’s not a real word!

Benny Newell: Fuck you!

Hortega begins admonishing High Flyer for the liberal use of punches in the match. High Flyer is up, Sektor is up. Both men look at each other. This time, they lock up, Sektor with a headlock, High Flyer reverses into a hammerlock, Sektor with an elbow to the side of the head. Sektor turns, takes a step towards High Flyer who quickly drops Sektor with a leg sweep. Sektor is up, High Flyer charges, Sektor connects with a drop toe hold, High Flyer’’s face hits the bottom turnbuckle.

Joe Hoffmann: We had quite the exchange there, with both men seeking to gain the upper hand.

Benny Newell: You can’t outwrestle John Fucking Sektor!

High Flyer is up and Sektor nails High Flyer with a chop across the chest, then another, then another. Sektor nails High Flyer with a boot to the midsection. Sektor hits a Northern Lights Suplex into a bridge. Hortega counts….

UNO!!!

DOS!!!

WHACK! High Flyer brings up his arms and nails Sektor causing him to break the pin attempt.

Joe Hoffmann: Close call there for High Flyer.

Benny Newell: Put him away for fuck’s sake!!!

Sektor is up, High Flyer is up. Sektor proceeds to hit a double arm lift into facebuster! Sektor then mounts High Flyer and locks in the Sektor Stretch! High Flyer is trying to fight the hold but the pain is too much and proceeds to tap out.

DING!!! DING!!! DING!!!!

Brian McVay: THE WINNER OF THIS MATCH…..AND STIIIIIIILLLLLLLLLLL THE LSD CHAMPION…..JOHN SEKTOR!!!!!!!

Benny Newell: YES!!! HE DID FOR LEE!!!!!

Joe Hoffmann: John Sektor has done it again! He is on a path to ‘Rumble at the Rock” to defend the LSD Championship in an IRON MAN match, the only question is…who will it be?

Sektor has rolled off of High Flyer, who is outside of the ring by this point. Sektor raises the LSD Championship in the air as AC/DC blasts in the arena and the HOW fans are not shy in their disappointment as Refueled comes to an end.

BONUS SEGMENT

Blossom Music Center
Cuyahoga Falls, Ohio
After tonight’s Jimmy Buffett Concert

Looking forward from the vantage point of a camera in the backseat of a SVU, the headlights illuminate people dressed in various multi-colored, breezy, tropical gear file out in large groups into the parking lot area of the Blossom Music Center just mere moments following the final note of the final song of the night echoed through the amphitheater.

The driver of the vehicle is mostly obscured by the driver’s seat.  We see only an arm encased in a black outfit and a hand affixed to the steering wheel of the vehicle.  

Someone taps on the driver’s side window.  The hum of an electrical window coming down is heard followed by a drunken man’s voice.

Random Guy: Hey! Are you my Uber?

The response from the driver is swift and harsh.

Female Voice: No! Fuck off! 

The man’s equally terse- but sloshingly drunken- response is cut off by the sound of the window moving back up.  

Female Voice: Asshole. 

More waves of people roll past and fan out into the parking area.  

She checks her watch.  

Female Voice: Come on…

Then…

Female Voice: YES! 

Looking out the windshield, we see in the distance two people at the curb waiting for their Uber to show up.  The female is a blond, six foot tall, and wears a Margaritaville sweatshirt, Margaritaville baseball cap, a Hawaiian lei around her neck, a pair of shorts, and flip-flps in the cool fifty-degree evening air. 

Dawn McGill.

The male with her?  Six foot eight.  Wearing an extremely tacky Hawaiian print shirt, sporting a stuffed parrot on his shoulder and a ridiculous looking eye patch on his right eye with equally tacky Bermuda shorts and deck shoes.

The recently retired ‘Sunshine God’ Rah- McGill’s husband.  

As Dawn talks on the phone, the hand slams the shifter on the steering column into drive and the foot hits the accelerator.  The wheels spin for a split second and the SVU lurches forward causing the endless stream of people flowing forth from the amphitheater to stop creating a lane for the vehicle to move forward like Moses parting the Red Sea.

Blowing past the group, the SVU sets a course for a direct collision with the couple ahead.  Through the windshield, we see Rah gets wind of trouble first.  His eyes widen at the sight of the vehicle hurtling towards them.  

Twenty feet away and closing fast.  

Rah grabs Dawn by the arm.  Surprised at the sudden violent pull, she drops the phone on the ground as Rah forcibly slings her out of harm’s way and out of the picture leaving Rah in the crosshairs.  He’s a little off balance and tries to adjust on the fly to move out of the vehicle’s path…

*WHAP*

…but the SVU clips Rah and passes by.  

Screams erupt behind the vehicle as the driver yanks the vehicle off the curb and just barely misses several people who dive out of the way.   She whips the wheel hard to the left and the SVU veers dead left and fishtails, the rear of the vehicle spinning the vehicle nearly one hundred and eighty degrees around until Rah is smack dab in the windshield again- one hundred feet away.

Spinning the wheels again, the SVU takes off like a rocket towards the Sunshine God.  He’s hobbling on one leg, the SVU’s bumper struck his other leg as it passed by the first time.  We see Rah trying to move out of the way- left leg dragging badly and making him nearly immobile.

Fifty feet.  

Twenty-five feet.   

Female Voice: Got you.

Fifteen feet.  We see Rah brace himself.  Then a flash from the left.  

Female Voice: What?

With every ounce of strength she can muster up, Dawn McGill slams into Rah and shoves him out of the way and out of the picture.

The SVU does not veer its course though.  Headlights closing in and blinding her, Dawn just has enough time to close her eyes and…

*BLAM*  

Dawn disappears from view.  More screams.  Chaos erupting.  

Not stopping to survey the damage done and knowing the police will be on scene fast, the SVU immediately makes a run for the exit.  There’s a back road leading out of the music center and driving through the grass, in and out of the trees, eventually in and out of traffic, the SVU eventually skids to a stop and kills the headlights as the sound of sirens and the red and blue lights of the police cut through the darkness heading toward the parking lot.  

A phone is pulled out.  The screen illuminates.  Then a name pops up.

“Jack Harmen.”

The woman driving the vehicle pulls off the hood covering her face and we see who it is for the first time.

Sunny O’Callahan. 

Harmen picks up the call.

Sunny O’Callahan: It’s done.