Refueled LXXVI

The HOTv logo gives way and we are immediately taken to a skybox inside the Talking Stick Arena here in Phoenix Arizona where the new High Octane Television Champion, Brian Hollywood, is seen dressed in a business suit with the belt draped over his shoulder and talking on his cell phone. It’s not entirely clear who he’s talking to, but Hollywood’s conversation with whoever it was he was talking to, was at least audible.

Brian Hollywood: I don’t care how difficult the concept of this idea of mine is. I’m not paying you the kind of money I am in taking a shit on it! If it wasn’t achievable, I wouldn’t be constantly hounding you for status updates and demanding progress! I don’t have to give you money in the first place so show me I can be impressed or I’ll cut you out of this project entirely and you and your family can starve to death and you can beg someone else to pay you!

Hollywood ends the phone call and tosses his cell phone to the side looking frustrated. As if that weren’t enough, Blaire Moise makes her way into the suite as Hollywood rolls his eyes and slowly gestures for her to come closer.

Brian Hollywood: Blaire, my dear, how’d you make it in here?

Blaire Moise: I guess I’m just blessed to be good looking and it didn’t take much for your security to let me through.

Brian Hollywood: Huh. I see. Looks like I’m going to have to add an added bonus not to let those who double down on sex appeal in here unless I deem it necessary. So since you’re already here, what can I do you for?

Hollywood sits back on his couch and adjusts his HOTv Championship on his shoulder as he doesn’t seem to have a problem with giving Blaire his undivided attention, which was rare for Hollywood to do in the first place.

Blaire Moise: Well I don’t mean to disrupt your time, but I was wanting to get your thoughts on your HOTv Championship match tonight against Jeffrey James Roberts. You’ve been on quite the roll since you came back and given Jeffrey’s “methods” you look to be potentially the third person he injures so to speak.

Hollywood provides a slight smile but is quick to dismiss the notion of Blaire’s worried curiosity. Hollywood does, however, give his thoughts on defending his championship a week after winning it.

Brian Hollywood: So tonight I have to defend my championship against a man who really doesn’t deserve it. I mean, who the fuck do these people think they are making me defend my title tonight?! I’ll tell you what it is, Blaire. It’s straight up biased and unfair to make me turn around and defend my title as if I didn’t deserve it in the first place! I told every motherfucker around here what was going to happen since I’ve been back. I haven’t lied, either, I’ve taken placed an Executive Decree on every issue laid out in front of me and I haven’t disappointed. So really, who’s being treated unfairly here Blaire?!

There’s a slight pause but Blaire fights back a clear smile as if she doesn’t want to call Hollywood stupid outright, but she poses the question conservatively.

Blaire Moise: Well I mean…you do know that the HOTv Championship is defended practically on a weekly basis don’t you?

Hollywood scoffs at the question, but at the same time, he knows she’s right. Hollywood has been blinded by greed since his return and there were things Hollywood has ignored or blatantly unaware of since his “sickness” so to speak.

Brian Hollywood: Of course I know the HOTv Championship is defended weekly! What kind of fool do you take me as?! All I’m trying to say is that it seems like there’s always some kind of target on my back whether I’m a champion or not and quite frankly it’s just because everyone is jealous of what I am and what I have! I have this heightened awareness of pointing out the obvious in people no matter what the background appears to be. So I’m going to go out and prove another point because it seems like that’s all I’ve been doing lately is fucking proving points!

Blaire Moise: So what about your thoughts on Jeffrey James Roberts? The man has downright injured people every time he has gotten into that ring. Are you concerned you could be the next victim to be laid to waste?

Hollywood retreats his neck back at the very question as he raises his eyebrow towards Blaire.

Brian Hollywood: So what? Are you all of a sudden concerned about my wellbeing? Let me tell you something, Blaire, this isn’t the first time I’ve stepped into ring with someone dangerous. Jeffrey seems like a dangerous, but demented man. The man doesn’t deserve a championship match, he deserves to be kept in an institute away from society. The man bests himself on destruction. He’s wrathful. It’s no secret that he embodies everything about the deadly sin known as wrath. But when you’re angry all the time and just want to destroy something, you leave yourself vulnerable and that’s exactly what I’m going to leave him. Vulnerable.

Blaire Moise: And if it’s the other way around?

Hollywood shakes his head as if there’s going to be another outcome than the one he sees.

Brian Hollywood: You don’t get it, do you Blaire? The best way to avoid the outcome you speak of, is to strike first so that you take away that outcome. But I’ll bite. If it is the other way around, you can expect that I’ll take proper actions in righting that mistake. I’m not Eli Dresden and I’m certainly not Darin Zion. I get back up and I had out revenge. They say a dish is best served cold but when it comes to me, you can bet that I’ll get back up and I’ll correct any transgression. I am, after all, a man with an agenda and I’m a man who will not stop until he has everything. They call me greedy, don’t they? Call it for what you want, Blaire, but I’m a man who just wants it all and I’ll do it no matter what it takes. I’m a man who is on a mission to have it all and you have to know how much it will cost to have everything. It started with this HOTv Championship, but there’s more to be done and I won’t rest until I do.

Hollywood turns away from Blaire as he simply stares at his HOTv Championship with a glazed look as others have called a “sickness” as Refueled cuts to a video from earlier tonight.

*Earlier today*

Backstage in the arena we see three HOW Hall of Famers sitting around a table. On one side is HOW color commentator Benny Newell, who is pouring himself two… three, four fingers of Jack Daniels into a HOW pint glass. On the other side is 2008 War Games winner Bobbinette Carey and the only wrestler to win every title in HOW’s last two eras except the new HOTv title, Scottywood. In front of them both sit the HOW Tag Team Titles that Scottywood, to much controversy, brought back onto TV last week and unofficially declared they had won.

Carey is enjoying a glass of wine as she has the night off, while Scottywood is again staring at his barbed wire hockey stick as he will go one on one with Mike Best later in the night. A match that could very well steal the show… on a night where the HOW World Title will be on the line.

Benny Newell: First off, thank you both for pay for my drinking tonight, just to come in early and ask you two a few questions.

Bobbinette: Trust me, it was not my idea. You are one of the most toxic men in HOW history. I’m cringing inside so hard it is actually causing me physical pain just to be in the same room with you.

She says with disgust. She shudders as she looks over at Benny Newell already regretting this.

Benny Newell: And I already see why Mario wants to beat the shit out of you.

He says with a chuckle as he drinks. Bobbinette’s hand goes into a fist for a second till she takes a few deep calming breaths.

Bobbinette: Mario wants to fight me because it is the only way he can gain any form of relevance in the business these days! He tried to ride the coattails of a mediocre Tag Team Title run in HOW to run the division months ago. But when he realized he had to do actual work… he skipped out of that shit quicker than he lasted in the bedroom.

Benny Newell: Chipotle?

Bobbinette: You assholes and your obsession with me, Mario and Chiptole! It was a long time ago. Let it go! Jesus, you all turn it into something dirty cause that is the hope that I give you all something to cling to that would sully my reputation. Too fucking bad!

She snaps at him, Then centers herself taking a few cleansing breaths.

Bobbinette: Men like Mario, who have to swing around a big proverbial dick… always have a fucking small one that they are over compensating for.

She says in a matter of fact tone.

Benny Newell: I’m sure no one wants to know any details about Mario’s…

Benny says quickly, obviously sounding uncomfortable as attempting to change the subject from the less than marvelous ones member.

Bonninette: Of course you don’t. But you’ll all talk about the size of my boobs… or how much of a camel toe that my wrestling attire shows off. You’ll easily comment on the weight that I have gained since 2008… but when I talk about how Mario’s dick is as impressive as Lindsay Troy’s run in HOW… you all get up in arms.

She throws her hands in the air with a sigh of exasperation

Benny Newell: What is this beef you have with Lindsay Troy? Can we expect a cat fight in the near future?

Bobbinette: No beef. I am not shaming other women or even giving credence to the thought. As much as men would love to see women fighting each other, I have no desire to waste on a female who got eliminated from wargames by JPD. I wanted to get into the LSD match with Jatt and Sektor.

Benny Newell: You think you can just do that?

Bobbinette: No, not at all. But I’m saying it is a match I’d love to be part of to mix things up. Jatt, vs Sektor vs Carey. Because that is two names on my level. Two hall of fame wrestlers from the old era that I respected their ring abilities. Not the same old beaten… or “whacked” to dead garbage like me versus Mario.

She says emphasizing on the whack o meter. Benny perks up at that last word.

Benny Newell: That is the big question. Will we see Bobbinette Carey face off against Mario Maurako at Rumble at the Rock?

Bobbinette: The short answer Benny… is no. I don’t need to face Mario… he laid out a challenge and I’m supposed to snap it up because he, a man, said it? That isn’t how it works! He’s a waste of my time Benny. Who even knows if he’ll be around by the time Rumble at the Rock comes around.

Benny Newell: Rumble at the Rock is only a few weeks away.

Bobbinette: Exact, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction. Mario it’s kind of weird that you want me as soon as you see me. You can’t keep your hands off of me ever.

She rolls her eyes.

Bobbinette: you need to learn no means no, and to keep your hands to yourself. I’m sorry not sorry, Mario I want something a little more ..ICONIC. Rumble at the Rock is reserved for important people and important matches. Mario wants me in one week? I really doubt you can even last a minute…

She says with a smirk and a long drawn out pause.

Bobbinette: in that ring.

She laughs a little adjusting her hair and her position in her seat.

Benny Newell: What do you have to say to Mario that he is just trying to prevent you from becoming what he used to be in HOW? That he sees you going down the same…

She looks surprised at Benny asking such a well in-depth question.

Bobbinette: Stop. Just stop Benny. It’s all complete and bullshit coming out of his mouth!

She says in disgust. Her eyebrows wrinkle as her nose scrunches in annoyance.

Bobbinette: To believe that Mario Maurako is actually concerned about me? To even say that he is able to show compassion about any woman… is to just announce that you are a gullible idiot.

She shakes her head no from side to side as her cheeks start to get a light pink with anger.

Bobbinette: Mario doesn’t care about me! He never did. Mario cares about Mario and what manipulating others can do for him. This is another prime example of how He is simply manipulating HOW, just like he manipulated me for years. He took advantage of me and that was all well and good for him. He has used my name for years, decades even; just to get himself over. And now we’re supposed to believe the bull that Mario is concerned for my well being? Biggest crock of shit ever! But he doesn’t make the rules. I do! He doesn’t control this narrative I do! And epicness deserves to be at ICONIC…

She uses her hand to gesticulate the word iconic in front of her almost as if she can see the logo flashing.

Bobbinette: I will beat him; worse than he has ever beaten any woman on his fucking “Whack-o-Meter.”

She uses air quotes and rolls her eyes.

Bobbinette: He tried to justify it to your partner, about his reasons for that thing because of Amanda, his first wife…. There’s no justification for abuse! Mario likes to spin a tale that he was the victim, and that’s why he abused someone who emotionally hurt him. Words aren’t supposed to hurt, and you’re never supposed to use your fists to solve someone’s words right?

She says tilting her head sideways with a confused look on her face.

Benny Newell: We all know that you have been helping Scotty focus himself these past few weeks… I’m assuming you are also learning something from The Hardcore Artist.

He says motioning between the two. She nods her head as Scottywood uncharacteristically has been quiet this entire time

Bobbinette: Let me just say that Scooter has given me some ideas that will make Mario regret ever showing his face back in HOW. I told him to stay away. But working with Scottywood you pick up a thing or two.

Benny Newell: Well speaking of you Scottywood… tonight you once again go up against Mike Best. Your third time this year. What can we expect in your first one on one encounter in a wrestling ring in who knows how many years.

Scotty slowly turns his attention from his hockey stick and over to Benny.

Scottywood: I’m going to hurt him… hurt him bad.

Benny Newell: Ok then…. What about you Carey? How do you feel about the possibility of fighting Mike and his rumored partner next week for the Tag Team Titles.

Bobbinette: Scotty already said it well enough Benny, it’s a win, win for us. Mike’s fragile ego has made these titles legit. Emotionally weak men are always entertaining. People talk about women but it was all because he saw something that he didn’t have and threw a fit.

She says with a big smile.

Bobbinette: Worse case we lose some belts that we never officially won. Either way we have distracted Mike Best from his World Title match and BEST case we hurt him in the process and cost him a tenth title reign.

Scottywood: Hurt Mike Best… hurt him bad.

Scottywood says almost repetiny it like a mantra.

Benny Newell: Well…. Good luck with that tonight Scotty. Cause you certainly don’t have the best track record….

Bobbinette: Did you not hear a single thing he said this week Benny?

Benny Newell: No… to be honest I don’t watch almost any of the promos you fuckers post before the shows.

Bobbinette: What a surprise….

Scottywood: I’m gonna hurt Mike tonight… and worse case scenario… I get to hurt him again next week.

Benny Newell: Well I guess we will see later tonight. Bobbinette Carey, Scottywood, thank you for paying my bar tab tonight and I hope you both lose your fake or real HOW Tag Team Titles next week.

Bobbinette: And we hope you choke on some Jack Daniels later tonight, or at least liver failure in your near future.

The camera goes black as the video ends as we cut to our first commercial break of the evening.

Back live and the HOV once again comes to life in the Talking Stick Arena, displaying images of Xander’s attack on Darin Zion.  As we see Zion’s lifeless body in the garage of the way, the camera pan to Section 214.  Zion’s seated amongst his fans with a somber look displaying on his face.  Clenching his fists together tight trying to hold back his emotions, he sheds a single tear.  As his adoring fans erupt with support, Zion brings the microphone to his face.  Devoid of all emotions, the former HOW standout cuts a promo.

Darin Zion:  I’d be lying to my fans if I said I only came back to HOW to win championships.  Sure, those HOW Championships mean the world to me.  Winning 7 of them has validated my career.  But it’s not the only business I came back to HOW to handle.

Darin Zion takes in a deep breath before looking down towards the ground.  His heart weighs heavily on the sleeve of his #RallyZion t-shirt.  The fans cheer him on, trying to get him to spill his heart.  The veins from his forehead take shape while he talks in a soft tone.  His body shakes visibly as he opens to the Section 214 faithful.

Darin Zion:  When I bust the door down to HOW nearly seven years ago; I acted like an utter shit head.  I felt the world owed me an opportunity after wasting away on the indies for years.  I shut my heart off to the world around me.  The only thing that mattered to me was results.  I didn’t care about making friends or earning the respect of the entire locker room.  It was my own glory that came first.  When I paved my way through the HOW roster, I took a shit on the honor of this business.  I ruined the majesty of it.  Once HOW reopened 3 years ago; I had the chance to atone for all my sins.

More tears flood Zion’s eyes as the cheers of Section 214 and the rest of the arena grow in intensity.  Chants of #RallyZion echo through the air while Zion’s choking up.  Clinging his microphone tight to his chest, Zion’s struggling.  The camera catches glimpses of Zion’s bloodshot eyes as he wipes tears away.

Darin Zion:  I figure maybe if I showed some compassion and respect to everyone; I could change the world.  I could do it one match at a time.  I wanted to welcome anyone and everyone who walked into an HOW locker room.   Hell, I hoped I could create an environment where people wouldn’t outcast others.  Every new talent comes in here shitting all over the floor like I did.  I wanted to become the change.  It’s why I gave Xander Azula a chance these last few weeks.  I see a lot of promise in the kid.  He fucking showed me something when stepping up to the plate against the Best Alliance.  His tenacity and moxie reminded me of myself when I first entered HOW.

Zion shakes his head as he continues on with his point.

Darin Zion:  Hell, I wanted to knock knees Mike Best within the first 3 weeks of debuting in HOW.  I connected with Xander on an entirely different level when I saw him perform in War Games.  It’s why I entertained his idea.  I wanted to give him an environment where he could foster and grow and feel included…

Zion’s face likes up like a Christmas tree.  The redness shines bright throughout the arena as the fans silence.  An intensity grows over Zion as he stands up from his chair.

Darin Zion:  But I guess throughout this journey, I forgot what HOW does to people.

Zion’s eyes widen now as he’s completely devoid of emotion.  He paces along Section 214 while he speaks.

Darin Zion:  I shed my old self when I returned.  I left that ruthless, cold, bitter bastard Zion laying dominant inside.  For 3 damn years, I’ve lacked a backbone while people have walked all over me.  I sequestered that missing piece from the world because I didn’t want to ruin my brand.  Meredith shielded me from it because she knew the vision.  She wanted to protect me at all costs from becoming unhinged.  Because one I let that Zion go; there’s no going back.

Zion cracks his neck a bit before turning his attention to the camera.  His breathing heavies as he looks on towards the crowd.  Gritting his teeth together, he barely moves his mouth as he continues to speak.

Darin Zion:  Well, it’s time to stop ignoring that missing piece in my arsenal.  Xander, you took everything from me.  Meredith’s my only family in this world.  You fuck with my family, and I’ll unleash that ruthless bastard on the world again.  I’ll stop at NOTHING to get her back from you.  That’s why I challenge you to a Guard Tower match at Rumble at the Rock.

The entire crowd erupts at this announcement as Benny and Joe come through the audio feed.

Joe Hoffman:  WHOA!  The last time Zion was in a Guard Tower match; he went flying off the tower and he was off HOW for months.

Benny Newell:  Maybe we’ll be lucky that it happens again.

Joe Hoffman:  Shut up, Benny, Zion’s got more to say.

Zion pulls the microphone back up to his face as a sick sneer comes across his face.

Darin Zion:  It’s about damn time I conquer those inner demons of mine.  It’s the one match I regretted not unleashing my true potential.  You want to fuck with me, Xander; I’ll get the last laugh on you.  I promise you; I’ll make the EPU scrape your damn insides off the concrete in Alcatraz until I get…

Zion eyes catch a glimpse of Xander cackling on the HOV behind him.  The chorus of boos erupt as Xander’s hands come together.  Without saying a single word, his hand waves showing Meredith.  She’s tied up behind him on a crucifix.  Xander’s eyes fill with malice as he lets off a maniacal laugh.  Zion tosses the microphone down towards the ground and rushes from Section 214 as we cut to ringside.

We return to Joe and Benny at ringside, the latter of which is sporting his HOW flask.

Joe Hoffman: FINALLY we are ready for our first match of the evening. We were scheduled to have Cancer Jiles open the show tonight against Daytona but as we ALL found out earlier…that match got relegated to the untelevised portion of tonights proceedings and Jiles came out on top…..although his performance was quite lackluster.

Benny Newell: Lackluster? Jiles is a shadow of himself. I will be SHOCKED if he has a roster spot after Rumble at the Rock. Fucking SHOCKED.

Joe Hoffman: Well we do know that Daytona was granted her release from the company after he match so one has to wonder just how much the roster will be shook up as we head into the last PPV of the year…ICONIC. We already saw a challenge made for that PPV when Carey and Scotty sat down with you earlier Benny.

Benny Newell: I got paid to listen to two walking vaginas whine and dine each other. Yes I said whine…..although there was a ton of yeast sitting across from me…..but I will steal a line from the G.O.D here and just say….I digress.

Joe Hoffman: Well ICONIC is still months away…….Up next we have High Octane Hall of Famer Jatt Starr taking on a man who has shown a particularly deranged side of himself over the last months, High Flyer.

Benny Newell: Well he’s up against former member of the Best Alliance, Jatt Starr, and I heard that he’s currently on the market so ladies, start tweeting those digits! #PraysForLee. DRINK!

Joe Hoffman: I don’t know anything about Jatt Starr’s dating life so I’ll just kick this up to Bryan McVay standing by in the ring!

The camera cuts to the HOW ring where McVay is waiting patiently to do his job.

Bryan McVay: Introducing first..

ALL ABOARD, AHAHAHAHA!

The opening riff of “Crazy Train” by Ozzy Osborne rips across the Talking Stick Resort Arena as the packed arena welcome the arrival of Jack Harmen with a chorus of boos. Smoke fills the stage as a shadowy figure can be seen lurking within it. Suddenly the smoke parts as High Flyer charges through, the devil’s horns thrown high into the air. In the past Flyer might have been met with cheers but after his recent actions the fans in Arizona aren’t showing much love.

Bryan McVay: From Bethlehem, Pennsylvania.. HIIIIIIIIIIIGH FLYER!

Despite being booed High Flyer makes his way to the ring paying the crowd very little attention. With a smirk plastered across his face, Flyer slips beneath the ring ropes and immediately begins to do the motions of making a snow angel. McVay steps out of the way as Jack flails his arms and legs in the center of the ring, staring up at the lights. He quickly clamours up to his feet and climbs to the second ropes of the nearby corner posing.

“Crazy Train” is suddenly shut down as “Everybody Wants You” by Billy Squier replaces it. The lights dim as a spotlight trains itself onto the stage. Stepping through the curtain comes Jatt Starr repping the suspenders that bring enders. The Hall of Famer is met with a mix of cheers and boos, the Sultan of SeaJattle having a small but dedicated fan base here in Arizona.

Bryan McVay: And his opponent..

Sauntering down to the ring Jatt Starr shows the world that his hips don’t lie. He stares up into the ring where High Flyer is with the kind of smugness that is reserved for the Ruler of Jattlantis.

Bryan Mcvay: From Havre, Montana… JAAAAAAAAAAAATT STAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARR!

Before Jatt can get into the ring High Flyer lives up to his name, hurling himself over the top rope. The suicide dive catches the Hall of Famer unwares as Flyer crashes down onto Jatt, rolling through and up to his feet roaring!

Benny Newell: NO FAIR!

Joe Hoffman: High Flyer is not waiting for this match to start, he just hurled himself at Jatt Starr and scored big!

Benny Newell: DISQUALIFY THIS MAN!

Not wanting to give up an advantage Flyer pulls Jatt up to his feet and whips him into the nearby ringpost, Starr’s body ragdolling through the air after striking it. In the ring Joe Hortega is yelling at Flyer to get Jatt into the ring so the match can start, though Jack seems to blow him off.

Pulling Jatt up by his hair, Flyer slams his head into the side of the ring apron before hitting him with a stiff looking kick to the side of his head. Picking his opponent’s lifeless body up, Flyer rolls Jatt into the ring and quickly slithers in behind him. Hortega signals for the bell to start the match!

Joe Hoffman: Looks like Flyer is finally ready to officially start this match!

Benny Newell: You can’t win a match that never starts, Hoffman, even that idiot High Flyer knows that!

DING DING DING!

Starr immediately hooks the leg and sends a beaming, arrogant smile toward the camera.

Joe Hoffman: Jack could pick up one of the quickest wins of his HOW Career against a Hall of Famer

Benny Newell: FUCK NO!

UNO!

DO-

Jatt throws his arm up quickly out before the two. Jack rolls his eyes before slapping Jatt across the face with a loud crack, knocking the taste out of his mouth as he remains on the mat. Flyer stands up and proceeds to lay on a series of boots to the upper body of Jatt looking to wear him down. He follows this up with some light offense in the form of snap neckbreakers and stiff kicks that Jatt is barely able to weather.

Joe Hoffman: High Flyer is keeping that offensive up against Jatt, keeping that vindictive, aggressiveness we’ve seen in the last couple of months since he started his war with RAH

Benny Newell: RAAAAAAH, that son of a bitch High Flyer took him from me! KILL HIM JATT!

Finally Jack whips Jatt into the corner before charging in..

EYE POKE!

Benny Newell: YESSS!

Jatt hand moves quicker than you’d expect as the finger finds Jack’s left eye stopping the madman in his tracks. As Jack stumbles backward holding his eye Jatt falls to a knee taking the moment to catch his breath and clear the cobwebs from his head. Shaking off the eye poke Flyer charges back in. Jatt sees it coming and side steps the charge, slipping behind Flyer as he wraps his arms around his waist..

Joe Hoffman: Jatt’s quick thinking and calculated style is finally leveling the playing field here.

Benny Newell: He’s one of the greatest wrestlers HOW has ever seen, of course he evened the playing field, Hoffman! DRINK!

JATTANESE SUPLEX!

The Hall of Famer sends the High Flyer crashing down on the back of his head. He quickly shuffles back up to his feet and now it is his time to slap Harmen hard across the face as he lays on the ground, this one eliciting “OOOOHS” from the fans in attendance.

Joe Hoffman: Jatt getting some of his own back!

Benny Newell: HOW DID THAT TASTE?! LIKE A JATT AND CHEESE KNUCKLE SANDWICH, FUCKER?!

Jatt takes over the momentum as he works over Flyers back with a series of knees and elbow drops. The Hall of Famer’s follow up offensive is plain and simple, mostly a lot of various headlocks and hammer locks. In fact Jatt seems to float through several rest holds, each one looking to annoy Jack more than wear him down. Just the same every time Flyer tries to weasel free Jatt seems to manage to wrangle him back into a headlock. After about two minutes of wearing Jatt like a necklace, Flyer finally goes to the mat!

UNO!

DOS!

Kicking his feet Flyer pushes himself over putting Jatt into a pinning position1

UNO!

DOS!

Joe Hoffman: Both men trying to pick up an advantage in this hotly contested match.

Benny Newell: This shouldn’t be this close, Hoffman! FUCK!

Relenting quickly, Jatt escapes the pinfall attempt by releasing Jack. Flyer quickly slips back out of the ring to recover as Jatt poses in the ring. Stalking around the ring, High Flyer seems to be working his way through a game plan as Jatt begins strutting, inviting Jack back into the ring. Slowly, Flyer climbs up onto the apron as Jatt flexes.

Catching Jatt posing, High Flyer launches himself over the top rope connecting with a Lous Thesz Press! Jatt is barely able to defend himself as Jack reigns down fists while riding his opponent to the mat! Despite themselves the crowd cheers for the spot as the legend sends punch after punch down into the face of the arrogant Ruler of Jattlantis.

Joe Hoffman: Jatt got caught showboating and once again the momentum has shifted deep into this match!

Benny Newell: Lee is watching this from his throne high above Jatt! Get your shit together!

High Flyer jumps up to his feet, pulling Jatt up before whipping him into the corner..

LOCOMOTION!

No!

Jatt drops at the last moment as the Yakuza Kick sails over the top of his head. The result is Jack’s leg and groin crashes into the turnbuckle causing him to stumble back. Scrambling back up to his feet Jatt charges forward and rams his knee into Jack’s injured crotch, careful to keep it hidden from Hortega!

Joe Hoffman: A low bow from Jatt Starr!

FALLING STARR!

Benny Newell: YES! YES!

Jatt comes crashing down onto Flyer’s head before quickly rolling him over, hooking the leg!

UNO!

DOS!

TRESSSS!!

DING DING DING!

Bryan McVay: Your winner in 12 minutes and 2 seconds.. JAAAAAAAAAATT STAAAAAAAAAAAAAARR!

Jatt pull himself up, kicking Jack out of the ring before posing, his arms in the air triumphantly.

Benny Newell: I never doubted it! DRRRRIIIIIIIIINK!

Joe Hoffman: A decisive, if slightly dirty, win for Jatt Starr and you have to wonder when are the paths of Jatt Starr and John Sektor going to cross?

We cut to commercial break as Starr continues to celebrate in the ring as if he’d just won the World Title.

Back live and Refueled returns to ringside as the camera pans up and down ringside, excited Phoenix fans are swigging their beers and waving their signs with the hopes of catching the attention of the camera operator. The joy and revelry quickly comes to a rapid halt with three little simple words broadcast over the speaker system.

“Mr. Finish Line”

The good times of mere seconds ago turns into a wall of furious noises, intermingled so much it’s impossible to make out any coherent reaction apart from “anger”. As the VULFPECK easy listening jam continues forward, we get a brief glimpse of the ring. In the centre, an office desk has been set up, containing two separate stacks of paper.

Joe Hoffman: I can barely hear myself on my monitor but it seems the fans of Phoenix still recognise the theme song of HOW Hall of Famer Cecilworth Farthington and they do not seem pleased at his actions from last week.

Benny Newell: The vibrations Joe, they’re enough to make me…

Joe Hoffman: …Cecilworth Farthington shocked just about everyone last week, acting as a camera operator for the entire main event. He waited for his moment to strike, slamming a camera into the head of Jace Parker-Davidson and locking Sutler Reynold-Kael into Article 50, leading to a no contest being declared.

The wall of vibrating anger increases in intensity as out from the back swaggers the former World Champion, Cecilworth Farthington, still adorned in his HOW Production Team Hoodie. A small army of a single very heavily armed security guard flanks his rear, clutching a variety of fun toys, from tasers to batons; it’s unclear if there are any Reesemart products within the ranks. Cups of beer and definitely not piss are hurled in the direction of Farthington but are batted away by the baton, which is convenient.

Benny Newell: I guess Phoenix finally heard about what that guy did to my arm. DAMN RIGHT YOU TOSS PISS AT HIM!

Cecilworth attention is firmly locked forward, a satisfied smile curls up his left hand side as he leaps into the ring. His new friend stands guard, patrolling around the ring apron, keeping the former champ safe. Cecilworth signals for a microphone from Bryan McVay, as he pats both stacks of paper sitting on the desk. “Mr. Finish Line” fades away, and Farthington lifts his lips to the mic.

“FUCK YOU FARTHINGTON!” *clap clap clapclapclap*

“FUCK YOU FARTHINGTON!” *clap clap clapclapclap*

“FUCK YOU FARTHINGTON!” *clap clap clapclapclap*

Farthington raises two fingers in a “settle down please” motion.

Cecilworth Farthington: If we could just have a smidge more decorum, I’d be happy to explain everything.

The swearing chants increase in volume if anything. Farthington extends his “settle down” hand motion to a full hand.

Cecilworth Farthington: I know everyone wants to know why and if you could just be respectful listeners for a second, I’ll only be too happy to share.

This comment leads to predictable results, the roar of the crowd overtaking almost anything else that could be audible. Cecilworth turns to the announcers table and shrugs his shoulders.

Joe Hoffman: I feel like this man is trying to instigate a riot.

Cecilworth makes another valiant effort to speak.

Cecilworth Farthington: The sooner you all finish, the quicker I can begin.

Farthington’s facade can’t hide it any more as he begins laughing to himself, the righteous crowd anger still ricocheting off the arena walls.

Cecilworth Farthington: Guess I’ll just have to make this quick…

Farthington pauses for dramatic effect.

Cecilworth Farthington: They didn’t deserve it.

Farthington flips the microphone in the air and heads back towards the ropes. The chanting quickly turns back into loud boos and while Farthington has one foot out of the ring, he turns back to look at the mic on the ground, yells “OH, WHAT THE HAY!” and picks it back up.

Cecilworth Farthington: You may not be ready to listen but I am certainly ready to talk. All week there’s been boring, mind numbing, fucking dense as pig shit speculation online about my actions last week. “Oh, he’s going for the World Title”, “Oh, he’s being Mike’s lackey”, “Oh, he’s fucked up on eccies and didn’t even know where he was”. The internet was a fucking mistake, I’ll tell you that for nothing. So many guesses, so much chitter chatter of the mindless proles and not a single correct guess. Not a single person took a swing at the goddamn obvious.

The crowd does it’s best to drown out our Farthington fancy lad but it doesn’t seem to stop him with a full head of steam.

Cecilworth Farthington: Jace Parker-Davidson and Sutler Reynolds-Kael in a match for a World Championship opportunity. Are you fucking kidding me? Why? Because some numbers said so? Numbers decide our worth now? Let’s take a look at our King of Everything first, shall we? When HOW returned and I easily and within a matter of days laid claim to the ICON Championship, I didn’t spend my days pissing and whining in interviews that I should be World Champion instead. Do you know how I became World Champion? By increasing the value of the ICON Championship so much, people started to view it as the company’s top belt. I created a legitimate argument that the ICON Championship had more value than the World Championship. Lee Best had to tell Bryan fucking McVay to announce the World Title as the most important belt in the company at Rumble at the Rock 2019. Fuck, I didn’t even LOSE my ICON Championship when I won the World Title, I defended both. I fought for both. I KILLED myself for both.

The calm demeanor of Farthington has quickly turned into a frothing rage, spit flying out of his mouth as he rants so quickly, the crowd can’t even hope to drown him out.

Farthington: So forgive me for thinking a man who spends his time pissing and crying about another his supposedly earned championship opportunity should actually hold himself to a Champion’s Standard. Forgive me for thinking you need to succeed to earn a spot in the Rumble at the Rock main event. Forgive me for thinking you set any claim to HOW World Championship gold in flames the minute a man with shit stained underwear sat on your face for a count of three.

Any zen elements of the former champion are gone now as he paces up and down the ring, has hands flying wildly in every direction as he speaks.

Farthington: No, no, no… Jace Parker-Davidson did not deserve glory, he did not deserve opportunity and I took action. I took morally correct action and you should all be thanking me for preserving the dignity of the title. I should be your fucking hero!

Farthington lets out an angry roar as he slams his hand down on the table.

Farthington: Oh, and Mr. Reynolds-Kael, I didn’t forget about you. When I had my greatest victory, retaining the ICON Championship and winning the World Championship at 2019’s ARR AH TEE ARR.. I made a promise to the fans. I promised I would be a 1 Time World Champion. People scoffed, people openly mocked me on Twitter, they thought I was an idiot. Everyone loses their first World Title quickly, that’s what I was told. I was told it was a formality but I broke down my body day in and day out from Rumble 2019 to War Games 2020 to keep that promise. I fought in a 97 minute long Iron Man match, I fought in a fucking disease ridden Collesium and I kept fighting. When I committed the ultimate sacrifice and chose Mike Best’s life over my own legacy, I didn’t show up the next week to spit venom in all directions on account of MY failure. I valued a little thing called accountability. I held myself to a high standard and knew if I was to ever touch the World Championship again, I would need to reprove my worth.

The sneer across Farthington’s face turns almost snake-like the more he stomps around the ring, yelling at the fans, if they can even hear him over all the booing.

Farthington: Sutler Reynolds-Kael FAILED against Conor Fuse, he did not deserve a second opportunity to let down the fans once more. He took the cowards route – sneak attacks, embittered interviews, slander campaign and somehow convinced himself that the match was his right. Well, I was right there to remind him that he must earn what he seeks. I was the World Championship’s guardian at a time when words and not actions reigned supreme.

Farthington takes a deep breath and ensures he is making direct eye contact with the camera.

Farthington: Sutler Reynolds-Kael did not deserve his opportunity and I took action.

The more Farthington speaks, the wider his eyes get, as if he is absorbing his own words, becoming more convinced of them by the second.

Farthington: The days of pissing and complaining to get your way are over, gentlemen. Venom spewing interviews will no longer earn you unmerited accolades. By last week, you double barreled pricks had already destroyed your legitimate claims to that 97red leather strap. Me? I was simply acting as the enforcer of dignity to ensure that only the worthy reach the top of the mountain.

Any hope of the crowd’s reaction impacting Farthington are long gone, speaking like a man possessed, he continues to spittle into the mic.

Farthington: Rumble at the Rock has only one correct, pure, and may I say beautiful, Main Event. Conor Fuse against Michael Lee Best. Experience against Athleticism, Fighter against Wrestler. A battle of ages, a battle of styles. That is what the fans want, that is what the fans DESERVE. I know that better than they do and I took steps to ensure that match stays angelically perfect. And hey… if that improves the odds of my best friend to claim victory, all the better.

Farthington looks at the crowd once more, surveying the gnashing teeth and the wagging fingers.

Farthington: That’s your fucking answer.

Farthington goes to step out of the ring again but stops in his tracks once more.

Farthington: Oh, I almost forgot. I know there’s a chance that some people may be looking for righteous vengeance against the man who wronged them and crushed their dreams. It can be yours, for a small cost. These two stacks of paper are opportunities, Mr. Reynolds-Kael, Mr. Parker-Davidson.

Cecilworth gestures to the two stacks of paper sitting on the desk in the ring.

Cecilworth Farthington: I am but a humble fighter, I do not and am not insured to compete in wrestle bouts. I do not possess a wrestlers’ contract nor do I desire one. So Sutler, Jace, should you wish to seek revenge, I simply ask one thing, sign these papers that entitle you to a one-fight contract with The Best Family. Sign on the line and we can sort out our issues in a brutal fashion. Please, I beg of you, step on into the cage and seek that pound of flesh you seek. If you desire to take the coward’s path, as I know you are both known to do. Well…

Cecilworth’s new friend turns on their cattle proud, the spark is so loud that half the audience probably shat themselves… or they’re already just big QT Reese fans.

Farthington: I’d suggest the cage. Much cleaner that way. The papers will be sitting at ringside, any time, any show, they’ll be waiting for you. Now, I will take the gratitude from my adoring public.

For the final time, Cecilworth drops the microphone to the mat as “Mr. Finish Line” kicks back in, the smug smile of the former champion returns as the Phoenix “Angry Wall of Noise” continues.

Cut to a segment that was taped earlier this week.

Jimmy Buffett’s Margaritaville Restaurant
Cleveland, Ohio
Tuesday October 5th, 2021

Inside the restaurant located near the Lake Erie waterfront, the HOTv cameraman walks towards one of the booths along the wall that’s decorated with fishing poles.  In the booth…

Blaire Moise: Hello everyone!

HOW’s intrepid backstage reporter Blaire Moise.

Blaire Moise: With me tonight is…

The camera view shifts over and brings in The Sunshine God himself. Rah.  Dressed in his festive bright red and palm tree covered shirt, Rah manages a weary smile and waves.

Blaire Moise: Thank you for meeting me Rah.  

Rah: It’s always a pleasure to talk to you Blaire.

Blaire Moise; The first question on everyone’s mind is- how is Dawn recovering from her injuries?

Rah closes his eyes for a split second- the closest you will ever see him ‘break character.’  Then he catches himself and responds.

Rah: Dawn is doing as well as can be expected.   Rah believes that she will be released soon from the hospital.

Blaire Moise: That’s great news!

Nodding, Rah takes a quick bite of his Cheeseburger in Paradise with all the fixins and accessories you’d expect: lettuce and tomato, Heinz 57, french fried potato, big kosher pickle, and a cold draft beer. 

Blaire Moise: Well, the reason I wanted to talk to you was because of your upcoming match at Rumble at the Rock against High Flyer.

Rah shakes his head no.

Rah: Rah does not wish to talk about High Flyer.  

Blaire Moise: Why is that?

Rah: High Flyer doesn’t mean anything to me.  Because High Flyer is doing someone else’s bidding.  

Blaire Moise: Sunny O’Callahan.

Rah: Yes.  Sunny O’Callahan.

Blaire Moise: Why is that?

Rah shrugs.  

Rah: It’s what she does.  She wasn’t a good fit to work with Rah so now she’s using High Flyer.  Sunny is very driven.  She’s driven to do what it takes to get her where she wants to be no matter what.  So, if that means using Flyer to get what she wants.  Sunny is really, really ambitious.  

Blaire Moise: Did you watch the show Saturday night and see Dawn’s daughter attack Sunny?

Rah: No.  

Rah takes a drink of his draft beer.

Rah: While Rah appreciates Victoria sticking up for her mother… and really appreciates Scott Stevens coming to Victoria’s aid… this battle isn’t between Victoria McGill and Sunny O’Callahan- this battle is between Rah and Sunny O’Callahan.

Blaire Moise: Not High Flyer.

Rah: No.  High Flyer is merely a pawn, the vessel Sunny is using to get what she wants and to get at who she wants to get at.   

Rah points to himself.

Rah: Rah knows what he must do.  In order to defeat Sunny, Rah must destroy High Flyer at Rumble at the Rock.   

Blaire’s ears perk up. 

Blaire Moise: I’m sorry.  Did you say destroy High Flyer?

Rah: Rah said exactly that.  It is the only way to show Sunny O’Callahan that darkness will never defeat the light. 

Blaire Moise: And after Rumble at the Rock?

Rah: Rah will tend to Rah’s wife and once she’s completely recovered, we will move to an island somewhere in the Caribbean.  

Blaire Moise: No more wrestling?

Rah: No more wrestling.  Rah has already released Barbie-Q and his followers to move on to their future endeavors.  Rah has had a good twelve-year wrestling career but it is time for Rah to take a new and different path with Dawn McGill.  

Blaire Moise: No turning back?

Rah allows a smile.  

Rah: This is the path Rah must take.

Blaire Moise: All right.

Blaire turns back to the camera.

Blaire Moise: Well now, thanks Rah for taking some time with me tonight.  Back to you Joe and Benny.

We return and head to our next scheduled match with the sound of the bell bellowing thru the arena.

DING! DING! DING!

Bryan McVay: The following contest is schedule for the HOTV Championship…

Matt Boettcher rushes down the ring as EPU members come marching out from the backstage area. Suddenly “Goldberg Variations” by Johann Sebastian Bach plays over the speakers. Boettcher slides into the ring. The world almost quakes as JJR emerges from the back covered in chains and muzzled by the EP. The camera pans into the zip tie cuff and Jeffrey’s sadistic look on his face. His insatiable lust for pain oozes out from his face. JJR begins walking towards the ring as his introduction begins.

Bryan McVay: Introducing tonight’s challenger! Ailing from Gainsville, Florida, weighing in at 230 pounds. He is JEFFFFFFFREEEEEEY! JAAAAAAAAAAAMES! ROOOOOOOOBBBBERTS!

Jeffrey James Roberts starts snapping at the guards. He merely wants a sample before his main course tonight. Benny and Joe’s voices echo over the airwaves.

Joe Hoffman: Holy Moly, Benny! Jeffrey James Roberts still walks out here undefeated. Every week this man comes out to the ring and literally takes a piece out of his opponents.

Benny Newell: I’ve heard in some circles; Hannibal Lecter fears what JJR can do without a shank. You can feel the cold, calloused attitude of him sweeping throughout our crowd. Thank God the EPU has that sick and twisted bastard locked behind bars. He doesn’t deserve a shot at our new HOTv Champion!

The guards sweep around the entire ring, guiding JJR straight towards the ring. Two of them sequester him in the corner as Boettcher pats him down. He eyes Boettcher, only licking his lips. His bloodlust continues to swell waiting on our new HOTv Champion.

“Stronger on your Own” by Disturbed blares over the PA. With the HOTv Championship draped across his shoulder, Hollywood emerges from backstage. Closing his eyes, Hollywood takes center stage and basks in his own glory. The boos from the crowd grow as Hollywood flips off the crowd. Marching triumphantly to the ring, Hollywood makes his final mental preparations.

Benny Newell: All hail your new HOTv Champion! All you peons listen to his decrees. Bet all your chips on Brian Hollywood to retain his belt. Our miraculous herald has come to purge all the other sins! Embrace the greed and give this bastard your paychecks.

Joe Hoffman: You got a little brown on that nose of yours, Benny. Hollywood only won that HOTv Championship last week. It’s too early to put your chips down on him, especially when he takes on wrath.

Benny Newell: Blah, blah, blah, Hoffhole! Hollywood’s back and winning more gold. That only fuels his point. More gold, mo Money! Hollywood’s going into Rumble at the Rock with all the momentum in the world. He’s got a chip on his shoulder and he’s ready to prove he’s back. He’s DECREED it.

Hollywood struts down the ramp with swagger. Holding his HOTv Championship proudly above his head, he watches his pyro explode.. The reflection of the belt glistens off Hollywood’s hazel eyes. He continues to proceed down to the ring, taunting the HOW faithful. He places his belt, vest, and other belongings on the ring steps as he enters. Matt Boettcher pats Brian Hollywood down for foreign objects. McVay’s voice echoes throughout the arena.

Bryan McVay: And in the ring; he is your current reigning and defending HOTv Champion. From Los Angeles, California; please welcome….BRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIAN HOOOOOOOOOOOLLLLLLLYWOOOOOD!

A smug look comes across the HOTv Champion’s face as he glares at the restrained JJR from across the ring. As The Wicked Executive taunts more, JJR rips the chain out of the EPU’s hands. He charges and clocks Hollywood with the weapons. EPU guards swarm the ring to pin him down and release the restraints as the bell rings.

DING! DING! DING! DING!

JJR wastes no time in mounting the weakened Hollywood’s body. Blow after blow comes flying at the champ’s head. The native Los Angeles man makes a desperate crawl towards the ropes but gets dragged like a victim. HOW’s cannibal takes Hollywood and flings him straight across the ring with a Belly-to-Belly Suplex. Jeffrey isn’t fucking around tonight. The fire ignites in his eyes while Hollywood crawls back to his feet. Wasting no time, JJR charges towards Hollywood. Hehits a stiff clothesline onto the champ.

Joe Hoffman: JJR is tearing our HOTv Champion apart limb by limb.

Benny Newell: I’m surprised JJR hasn’t turned Hollywood into a real life fuckin’ turkey leg. He would have already ripped some flesh from our champion on a normal week. He’s making him an example out of Hollywood! While everyone wants a championship in HOW; JJR murders them.

The massive legs of JJR make a mad sprint towards the injured champion. JJR attempts to strange Hollywood on the ground. His massive teeth inches towards the face of the champion…

BAM!

Hollywood slides a pair of brass knuckles and wails Jeffrey directly in the jaw. Boettcher scalds Hollywood, but the Deranged Executive flips off the ref in defiance

Joe Hoffman: COME ON BOETTCHER! Call for the disqualification! Hollywood’s blatant use of outside weaponry doesn’t deserve to go unnoticed!

Benny Newell: SHUT THE FUCK UP, HOFFMAN! That’s creative winning in action. Nothing comes between an executive and his gold!

Brian doesn’t waste time in going on the offense. Hoisting JJR’s jaw on the bottom rope, Hollywood nails a massive stomp on his opponent. The sickening crack echoes throughout the Talking Stick arena. Hollywood cackles as his challenger holds his jaw in pain. Hollywood continues the onslaught, locking in a sick dragon sleeper on JJR’s jawline. Sinking the lock in deeper, JJR winces in pain. For good measure, Hollywood drives his knuckles into JJR’s ribcage.

But it does no good! JJR’s anger intensifies as Hollywood’s attempts at inflicting pain continue. JJR picks Hollywood up and nails an absolute sick looking German Suplex. Grabbing his neck in pain, Hollywood rolls out of the ring to the dismay of his challenger.

Not amused by the champion’s attempts to flee, Jeffrey slides to the outside. Before he grabs Hollywood, The Deranged Executive nails JJR in the groin. Brian takes JJR’s skull and sends it straight into the steel stairs. Our HOTv Champion lets out a flurry on elbow strikes, driving Roberts’ skull into the steel. But unfortunately for Hollywood, it pisses off his challenger. As Hollywood unleashes his final elbow drop, JJR slides out of the way. Hollywood’s arm cracks against the unforgiving cold steel, and he howls out in pain. JJR gets to his feet and cocks back his foot. In the most beautiful fashion, Roberts nails a Super Kick straight into Hollywood’s face. It drives the HOTv Champion back onto the ground where he rubs his jaw with a twisted look on his face.

Benny Newell: Oh fuck! JJR makes an Executive Promise to Hollywood. He’s signaling he’s going to take that championship. That’s not the brightest move a criminal can do to someone with the corporate backing of Hollywood. You don’t insult someone above you on the food chain.

Joe Hoffman: JJR’s staking his claim rather Hollywood likes it or not. He’s establishing dominance. It’s the calm before the proverbial wrath storm.

Benny Newell: Well, he better take a fuckin’ drink for what’s about to come next….

Hollywood pops back to his feet and extends his arms out. JJR rushes towards Hollywood with a spear attempt. Unfortunately he meets the sickening thud of Hollywood’s boot to his face. Hollywood unleashes an Executive Promise of his own! Hollywood smashes JJR’s skull against the barricade a few times. Suddenly he can hear the faint count of Boettcher in the background.

SEVEN!!!!

EIGHT!!!!

NINE!!!!

Hollywood slides back into the ring as JJR’s charging back in as well. Hollywood attempts to nail a baseball slide into Roberts’ face, but Hollywood’s caught. Jeffrey uses Hollywood like a battering ram and flings him into the turnbuckle. Taking the lifeless body of Hollywood, he tosses him neck first into the post again with a German Suplex. JJR rolls back into the ring with a wicked look twinkling in his eyes.

Joe Hoffman: Roberts is done messing around with his prey! It’s time to use the offense he’s known for here in HOW. Air Roberts is looking to hit that Dragon Corkscrew Plancha of his. He’s up….

SPLAT!

Benny Newell: And he crashes towards the ground as Hollywood rolls out of the way.

Brian smirks at his prey, before unleashing a sick Big Boot on JJR’s jaw. He rolls Roberts back into the ring, changing his strategy. Hollywood climbs up to the top rope with Roberts’ neck in his hands. He’s going to unleash a chokeslam from the top rope. JJR regains control before he grabs the champ and unleashes a SuperPlex onto Hollywood. Both men lay lifeless on the mat at Boettcher starts to make his count.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

JJR crawls over to the corner and tries picking himself off the mat as the count continues.

FOUR!

FIVE!

SIX!

Hollywood gets back to his feet and shakes the pain off. He catches JJR’s slow struggle back to his feet out of the corner of his eyes. The Deranged Executive’s smirk curls back towards his right ear. He slams his foot into the canvas.

SEVEN!

EIGHT!

NINE!

A sickening splat pierces Boettcher’s ear drums. Hollywood’s tail bone connects with the turnbuckle. It’s a failed Executive Decree attempt. JJR flies out of the way and charges towards Hollywood. He contorts his body onto the champion to attempt a huricanarana on him. Unfortunately, Hollywood swings his weight into the move, nailing a buckle bomb onto JJR. Hollywood falls to the mat and his eyes widen. He sees JJR coming back to his feet. He charges with a Clothesline from hell, but JJR catches him and hits a perfect Head Scissors take down. Both men recover and stare each other down.

Joe Hoffman: Both men are equally match in stubbornness. It’s been a back and forth encounter this entire time as wrath and greed collide for the HOTv Championship. Neither man will stay down. Their determination for dominance continues to steer them.

Benny Newell: Blah! Blah! Competitive nature, blah, blah! Give us a fuckin’ rest Hoffhole. Most of these people paid to watch someone beat the fuckin’ shit out of each other. One of these fuckers has to break! When they do, it’ll garner them some momentum going into the Seven Deadly Sins match at Rumble at the Rock.

Hollywood and JJR charge at each other, colliding into each other with a cross body attempt. Both kip to their feet before JJR takes control. He flings Hollywood into the ropes. He tries planting Hollywood’s face into the mat with a DDT attempt, but Hollywood bridges his challenger.

ONE…

TWO…

JJR lifts himself back into position and bridges Hollywood with a suplex pin of his own.

ONE…

TWO…

Hollywood rolls over the attempt into a cradle.

ONE…

TWO…

JJR slides away. He charges and hits a sick dropkick into the champion’s ribs. JJR tries contorting Hollywood into a cloverleaf, but Hollywood pushes him off. Hollywood rushes over and nails a springboard DDT on JJR. This is it! Hollywood’s eyes intensify. His nostril’s flare up! He’s fucking pissed off. He’s rushing at JJR with full force for another Executive Decree out of nowhere. But like clockwork, JJR flings his opponent shoulder first into the turnbuckle. He hoists Hollywood into position and hits a Mask of Sanity as stiff as possible into the canvas. Climbing up to the turnbuckle, JJR slits his throat as the crowd comes unglued.

Benny Newell: Holy Shit! The Shooting Star Guillotine! FUCKIN’ DRINK HOFFHOLE! He’s gonna take Hollywood’s fuckin’ head off right here.

Joe Hoffman: I can’t watch! I can’t watch!

BAM!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!!!!!!

DING! DING! DING!

Bryan McVay: Here is your winner….

Joe Hoffman: Oh My GOD what happened Benny! What happened, I couldn’t see! I didn’t want to witness the bloodshed….

Bryan McVay: and NEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEW HOTV Champion….JEFFFFFFFFREY JAMES ROOOOOOBBBBBERTS!

Benny Newell: God damnit, I need a cigarette after that fucking match! That was fucking hell!

Joe Hoffman: For once, we can agree and cut out with all these shenanigans. Both men wanted that victory more than life itself heading into the Rock; and it shows. JJR walks out of the Talking Stick Arena with the win and the title.

Benny Newell: But fuckin’ hell, Hollywood showed shades of a deranged Executive on a fuckin’ War Path. He isn’t going to sit on that loss well. Especially after such a short reign with that HOTV Title! He’s fuckin’ pissed. He’s gonna need some of my Jack to wash off the sting of that loss.

As Boettcher goes to hand Roberts the title, Roberts charges at Hollywood and everyone in the Arena gasps as they know whats coming.

But it doesnt happen.

Roberts stops just short of Hollywood and smiles down at the defeated man who he will be facing at Rumble at the Rock.

Joe Hoffman: Tell me when it’s over!!!!

Joe has his eyes covered but there is nothing to be worried about as we see the new HOTv Champion bend down and pat the former Champion on the forehead.

Still smiling, the new HOTv Champion, slowly exits the ring leaving a confused crowd behind.

Joe Hoffman: BENNY??? IS IT OVER???

Benny Newell: Nope.

Now it is Benny who is smiling as we cut away.

The HOV flickers to life as Sutler Reynolds-Kael can be seen sitting on an ornate throne with his arm in a sling. He was dressed in a blue suit that looked suspiciously like it was the exact opposite shade of color that #97red might have been, #000097…..McKenna Blue if you will. His hair has also changed having been cut shorter, still black but the red now replaced with that same shade of blue. Surrounded otherwise by darkness, the Son of Scions wears a surprisingly chipper smile.

SRK: Now normally I’d go on a tirade about the bullshit that happens in High Octane Wrestling, about the morons that run things. Kevin Capone gets a World Title shot? Really?

He flashes a perplexed look at the camera before shaking his head.

SRK: If I said what I wanted to say about it this segment probably would have been pulled faster than a bad spooky movie taking place in Maine. No, instead I want to focus on the positive. For starters, Jace is just as fucked as I am and that feels good. I’m probably not going to ever get my JUSTLY DUE World Title match. Good luck Conor. If that shitty video from last weeks show is any indication….get ready to be screwed by the greatest bot ever……NEPO TISM.

Flashing a thumbs up with his good arm toward the screen, Sutler rolled his eyes.

SRK: Moving on to.. Cecilworth M! Farthington. Last week when I was on the verge of earning my rightly deserved World Title Rematch, Cecil decided to interjected himself into my match. He caused a No Contest. Hall of Fame refereeing indeed, fucking embarrising. I wracked my brain for days wondering why he would do this thing, why would he cost me, the BEAUTIFUL BOY that I am, my chance to get back that which I deserve!?

Ask the Son of Scion speaks, the smile on his face fades into a grim scowl. While he started with an even, cheerful tone he had quickly descended into screaming.

SRK: Earlier tonight he peeled back the Farthington Mystery and revealed that he didn’t think I deserved it. Apparently you only get one go and then you never get to again. I guess nobody told him that his best friend, Mike, is a multi-time World Champion including having some of the shortest title reigns. Huh.. I mean chances are, much like everybody else in this fucking company, he refuses to hold Mike accountable for anything.

The yelling has subsided, returning to the jaded, bitter tones of a Zoomer living through the current dystopia that is HOW Booking. He lets out a huff before pulling in a deep breath through his nose. He sighed, looking tired for a moment before he perked back up, a smile crossing his face once again.

SRK: But you know, he’s crazy, take that from me, a sane person. Funny, having been raised by a lunatic you start to realize that being crazy isn’t a state of mind, it’s an excuse for not having to make sense. ..then again the man doesn’t blink so I’m certain there is something deeply wrong with him. But you know even though that walking logical fallacy ruined my chance for a deserved World Title shot, he turned around and did a magical thing.

The smile on his face stretched a little wider.

SRK: He put up a challenge to face him in a cage. Now I was kinda still flabbergasted at that point for the whole reason why he did what he did but my assumption is that it’s an HOFC match of some sort. I’m not down for that, I’ll be the first to admit I’m not an MMA Fighter, Dan Ryan made sure everyone knew that. I’m not a match for a legend like Cecilworth Farthington in the Cage… but..

He shifted in his chair wincing slightly as his slung arm bumped into the armrest of the throne he sat in.

SRK: ..how about this. See, after I slapped Mike around I realized I kind of like taking out Hall of Famers in the ring. More than that you’re a special Hall of Famer, Cecilworth Farthington. See as much as I hate you right now I also respect the fuck out of you. You cost my Father his LSD Championship and he was too scared of you to seek revenge. You’re probably the only Hall of Famer who can claim to have a winning record over Mike Best, fuck, you might be the only person. Mike even shut down the HOFC division rather than face you

He licked his lips before holding his hand up in the air. There was a sudden blink of light and a small stack of papers floated above his hand. Some real BeWitched level of special effects here.

SRK: Oh, when I beat Xander I stole his God’s magic powers. I’m a beautiful magic boi and this is my beautifully contrived 97 page contract for a match at Rumble at the Rock. It’s based on #000097, know your history, plebs. I know you’re retired from wrestling but can what happens at Alcatraz really be called wrestling? The way I see it we both have the advantage there and I know you’ve got to want to finish the job, right? Want to get Mike’s ring back? What the fuck do you want Cecilworth? I’ll do anything to get this match.

Sutler lifted his arm in the brace, grimacing but clearly showing the arm to not be broken.

SRK: If I win.. Well that’ll mean I did something Mike couldn’t do and more importantly, I’ll have done something my Father was too much of a coward to do. And speaking of which..

Snapping his fingers the contract vanished. Sutler’s smile drops into an unattractive sneer.

SRK: I just magicked it to you. SIGN IT, COWARD!

He screams the last words toward the screen as though he believed they could actually cause physical suffering. He screamed the words like he hoped they flew through the camera and slapped Cecilworth in the mouth.

SRK: Beautiful Magic Boi OOOOOOOOOOOOOOUT.

The HOV flickers back into darkness as we cut to a commercial break.

Back from commercial and we find the Son of God himself fully GEARED UP for tonight’s match between himself and the Hardcore Hall of Famer, Scottywood.

Michael is hopping in place in the hallway outside of his locker room, bouncing from foot to foot and occasionally dropping to a couple of push-ups as he gets the blood flowing for his exhibition bout this evening. As he does so, HOW interviewer Blaire Moise steps into the frame with a microphone in hand, ready to get HOT SCOOPS from the number one contender.

Blaire Moise: Michael, as we—

The Son of God stops hopping, staring blankly at the woman standing in front of him as he interrupts her.

Mike Best: Wait, who are you? Where’s Brian?

The interviewer is taken aback, looking confused.

Blaire Moise: What? Seriously? I’m Blaire Moise. I’ve worked here longer than you have.

Mike Best: I have literally never met you before in my life.

He isn’t messing with her. Somehow, in twelve years, Michael Lee Best has never been interviewed by Blaire Moise. They have literally never even crossed paths. There is an awkward silence as both parties look at eachother, trying to decide what happens next.

Blaire Moise: So. Anyway.

Mike Best: Anyway.

The interviewer clears her throat.

Blaire Moise: …tonight, you take on Hall of Famer Scottywood, with a victory earning you the opportunity to challenge he and Bobbinette Carey to a match for the unsanctioned, decommissioned HOW Tag Team Championships with a partner of your choosing.

Michael waits a moment, as though waiting for her to continue.

Mike Best: …oh, you’re done? Sorry, usually Brian asks questions. Yes, that’s the situation.

Blaire Moise: Okay. So… why?

Mike Best: What do you mean, “why”?

This is very awkward. Another pause.

Blaire Moise: You’re the number one contender for the HOW World Championship, scheduled to compete against Conor Fuse at Rumble at the Rock. Wouldn’t it make more sense to keep your eyes on the prize, rather than risk your health and well being to challenge Scotty and Bobbinette for championships that aren’t even sanctioned by HOW?

Michael furrows a brow. He’s clearly agitated by this line of questioning. Nevertheless, he fakes a bemused smirk and answers anyway.

Mike Best: Ever since I came back, I’ve been minding my own business and preparing for Rumble at the Rock, but everywhere I turn, it’s babies and morons making mouth sounds about me. A baby and a moron putting my face on a cake and disrespecting the HOW Tag Team Titles. A baby and a moron arguing over who deserves a World Title match more than I do. Babies and morons screaming obscenities from ringside every time I come through the curtain. I take that personally, Ms. Moose.

Blaire Moise: Moise.

Mike Best: I don’t care. Literally at all. Look, I’m a professional wrestler. I solve my disputes with violence, in one of the only industries where that’s legal. I’ve heard a lot of talking lately, but I haven’t seen a lot of action. Guys arguing about who deserves what, and not a single one of them challenging me to a wrestling match. In a wrestling company. Maybe they should join a debate team.

Blaire Moise: Two of those men DID wrestle for an opportunity to take part in the World Title match at Rumble at the Rock. That opportunity was taken away by your best friend, Cecilworth Farthington, resulting in a No Contest finish last week on Refueled.

Once again, he looks annoyed.

Mike Best: Yeah, and clearly the most deserving competitor won that match. So what if he’s my best friend, Blaire? I don’t think I like your implication. Cecilworth had his time to speak tonight and I think he made it pretty clear why he did what he did. You think I had something to do with that? I’m the one who told the front office to put Sutler into the title match in the first place. Because that’s what I’m focused on, Claire.

Blaire Moise: It’s Blaire.

Mike Best: So go make a salty news post about it and leave it in drafts, Moose. I don’t have time for conspiracy theories— that’s old news, and I’m too busy looking directly in front of me. At Rumble at the Rock, that means a singles match against Conor Fuse for the HOW World Championship in what I can promise you will be the match of the year so far. And tonight, that means beating Scott Woodson in the middle of that ring in tonight’s main event.

An amused grin refuses to stay hidden, as it peeks out from the corner of Blaire’s mouth.

Blaire Moise: Your match with Scottywood isn’t the main event.

She’s met with a scowl. Despite weeks of putting on a smiling face, Mike Best is clearly starting to show his true colors under provocation, just like he did two weeks ago when addressing his nephew after being attacked.

Mike Best: Any match I’m in is the main event. And the next time you have some conspiracy riddled non-questions for me, go ahead and write them down and give them to Brian Bare. We’re done here. I have a professional wrestling match to get ready for, because unlike all the babies and morons around here who apparently just talk for a living, I’m a fucking professional wrestler.

Forgetting his demeanor, Michael Lee Best swats the microphone out of Blaire’s hand and knocks it to the floor. He turns and walks away, as certain he will never talk to this woman again as she is certain she’d never like to.

Refueled cuts away…

The HOV flickers back on revealing Xander Azula alone with a wicked smirk on his face.

Xander Azula: I can only hope that I’ve finally garnered your attention.

This gets an immediate chorus of boos from the Phoenix crowd, but the Head Disciple pays them no mind.

Xander Azula: When I joined this company, I was treated as an outcast…and in the months since, I have been treated as a joke. From getting my name wrong to defiling the image of my goddess, they would have you believe that I do not belong here…but you can’t get rid of me that easily.

He gives a nod as his fellow disciples bring in the still-bound Meredith.

Xander Azula: And when I found someone as a kindred spirit, someone who understands what it’s like to be treated as an outcast, what did I get in return? More mockery from a man claiming to show compassion, and this…wench…spitting on everything I hold most dear.

He glares at Meredith, his anger about to reach a boiling point as he turns his attention back to us.

Xander Azula: I will be mocked no longer. I will take the respect that I am entitled to. Darin Zion seems to think that he can backpedal and hem and haw when it comes to joining this cause…but if he won’t join me, he is against me. If he wants to put his well-being on the line to fight this war, then I accept. When I throw Darin Zion off that guard tower, I will show him his rightful place in the grand scheme of things.

His snarl fades away as he looks back at Meredith once more.

Xander Azula: And as for you, well…my goddess has had enough with mere spectating. She is ready to set foot upon the earth once more, to reclaim it…and she could use a vessel.

Xander grins wickedly at the idea, the realization of what Xander is planning finally starting to set in as we cut away to ringside!

We come back to ringside, where Joe Hoffman and Benny Newell are standing by on commentary!

Joe Hoffman: Folks, our next match has quite the war of words leading up to it. Last week we saw–

Benny Newell: A damn travesty, Joe! That’s what we saw! Good lord, what were Scottywood and Carey thinking!?

Joe Hoffman: Benny of course is referring to the theft and unveiling of the HOW Tag Team Championship belts, an action we need to stress has not been sanctioned in any way.

Benny Newell: You can say that again! The Son of GOD got wind of this insanity and he’s out for a pound of flesh from the man responsible!

Joe Hoffman: Indeed, a bit of revenge and a shot at those unsanctioned titles is on the line for Mike Best tonight!

We cut to the ring for the announcement from Bryan McVay.

Bryan McVay: The following contest is scheduled for one fall–

Bryan is interrupted by the opening riff of “Beg” by Seether, quickly getting the attention of everyone inside the arena. However, it soon becomes apparent that something is off, the crowd in Phoenix starting to become restless by the noticeable absence of Scottywood.

Benny Newell: Go figure, that son of a bitch talked ALL THAT SHIT saying he beat Mike Best, but the moment gets to back up his talk with action…not a damn peep.

Joe Hoffman: Hold on a second, I’m getting word that there’s a bit of commotion backstage!

Sure enough, we cut backstage where we can see Scottywood and Mike Best going at it! The two trade lefts and rights, laying into each other with no sign of stopping as officials rush in to break things up. Order is restored just long enough for the officials to get Scottywood out to the ring, but as “HELLAlujah” starts to play, we realize that things are far from over…because Mike opts out of his usual pomp and circumstance tonight, choosing instead to rush to the ring! He makes a beeline for Scottywood as Hortega calls for the bell!

DING DING DING!

The opening bell is just a formality as these two pick up where they left off, laying the punches on thick as each man looks to get an advantage…but more importantly, just to hurt the other. Eventually, Mike takes control as he sends Scottywood down to the canvas before continuing a barrage of punches. Hortega has to intervene, first telling Mike to lay up on the attack and then flat-out pulling him away! Mike shouts at Hortega, telling him to focus on his own job before turning his attention back to Scottywood…who catches him in a small package! Hortega drops down to make the count!

UNO!!!

NOPE!

MIKE KICKS OUT!

Joe Hoffman: Scottywood nearly picking up a surprise win over Mike Best despite the early assault!

Benny Newell: I don’t know if my heart would’ve handled Scotty getting such a dirt-cheap win! Lord, I could use another drink…

Benny obliges himself as Scottywood gets back on his feet, taunting Mike over the near fall. Mike responds with a right hand that sends Scotty reeling back, but he charges at the Son of GOD…who sends him flying with an arm drag, and for the first time we have something resembling a wrestling match rather than an all-out fight! Scotty doesn’t take well to this as he gets back to his feet, but Mike won’t give him even an inch as he catches him with an elbow to the head! With Scotty thrown off, the window is open for Mike to connect with a belly-to-belly suplex on his fellow Hall of Famer!

Joe Hoffman: I have to say it’s good strategy on Mike’s part here, even with his anger toward Scottywood he still needs to focus on his strengths to pick up the win and get that title shot he wants!

Benny Newell: You’re damn right about that one, Joe! Mike knows exactly what he’s doing h–wait a minute, what’s SHE doing here…

Benny is referring to the presence of Bobbinette Carey, who has come to ringside presumably to rally behind the man she’s been associating with recently. This just draws a chuckle from Mike, who doesn’t miss a beat as he continues the beatdown on Scotty with some mounted punches before getting him to his feet. He looks poised to take Scotty out early with the knee…but Scotty sweeps the leg first!

Benny Newell: What kinda Karate Kid bullshit is that!?

Joe Hoffman: Scottywood is still in the fight, folks!

And now it’s Scottywood taking control, laying in some heavy offense before sending Mike to the ropes…and connects with a sidewalk slam on the rebound! Scotty gets to his feet, taunting Mike once again about falling into his trap as he starts laying in some punches right to the skull! Hortega now finds himself arguing with Scotty over the use of closed fists, which garners some shouts of abuse by Scotty before he gets Mike back to his feet. He sends Mike to the ropes once again, but Mike ducks a clothesline attempt! He drops Scotty, hitting a few more punches on the way down before locking in an armbar!

Joe Hoffman: He’s got that armbar locked in tight, Benny! Is Scotty gonna tap here?

Benny Newell: GOTTA believe that this is a nod to his brother from another mother….

Scotty is wincing in pain as he tries to claw his way toward the ropes. He gets within fingertips’ reach of the ropes…and Carey pulls him by the hand, offering a small assist to grab the bottom rope! The ref is razor-focused on Scotty’s reaction however, missing what happened when all he sees is the hand on the ropes before telling Mike to break the hold. Mike eventually obliges, a look of frustration on his face that is matched with a smile on Carey’s as Scotty once again makes it to his feet, though noticeably looking worn down after that armbar.

Benny Newell: Someone needs to tell that bitch to stay out of this, and let the men handle their own business!

Joe Hoffman: Are you offering to have a heart to heart, Benny?

Benny Newell: (nervously taking a swig) Nah, I’m good…but someone has to!

Suddenly Mike charges at Scotty and everyone knows what is coming next….

The crowd stands as one as even Scotty knows what is coming as he lifts his head just in time to see the SON of GOD coming at him…

Mike plants one leg……..

Joe Hoffman: I KNEED A HERO!!!!!!!

Benny Newell: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!

Scottywood, smartly, ducks down and we can hear Carey scream YES!!!! just as Benny is screaming NO.

But it is all short lived.

With his infamous smirk we see Mike staring down at a now ducked down Scotty.

Joe Hoffman: Mike never left his feet!!!!!

Benny Newell: YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Then as quickly as the match could have been over if he connected with the knee, Mike drops down and grabs the head of Scotty and quickly rolls him up.

UNO!!!!

DOS!!!!

TRES!!!!

Mike quickly lets go at the sound of three and rolls backwards as Scotty quickly hops up to his knees…..shocked at just what happened.

Mike can be seen tapping his forehead as the HOV shows a replay of the fake out by Mike on Scotty and the subsequent roll up and cover.

Joe Hoffman: What a sequence of events and with that victory we will see Mike Best and a partner of his choosing against Scotty and Carey for the 39% official Tag Team Championships.

Benny Newell: Even when he doesn’t use the knee…..the knee gets him the win. What a brilliant move by the SON. It is as if GOD whispered into his ear and willed this into existence.

The cameras focus on Mike as he walks backwards up the ramp as he mouths the words “Worth It” to Scotty and Carey who are standing shoulder to shoulder in the center of the ring.

We cut away as Mike gives us the obligatory gesture that the belts are going to be his next week as we hit another commercial break.

Back live and Refueled quickly cuts to the backstage area near the entrance to the parking lot. We see long time reporter Brian Bare rushing to keep up with Cecilworth Farthington and his new Reesemart equipped bodyman as they power walk their way out of the arena. Cecilworth looks quite focussed on not spending any more time in Arizona than he needs to do. An exhausted Bare finally catches up to the duo.

Brian Bare: *wheeze* Cecilworth… … *huff* … your… your thoughts… your thoughts on Sutler Reynolds-Kael’s challenge.

Cecilworth stops in his tracks and spins around to see Brian Bare doubled over and blown up.

Cecilworth Farthington: For a family with such vast amounts of wealth and spooky properties with many fine leather bound books, I do find it very surprising that Little Master Sutler has incredibly poor conceptual understanding…

Cecilworth pauses for a second.

Cecilworth Farthington: Maybe he has a chip in his brain that makes him a fucking idiot.

This is accompanied by a roll of the eyes. He looks down at Brian, who is still wheezing into the microphone and appears to be on the edge of vomiting. Doing the most sensible thing, he pulls the microphone from Bare and hands it over to his bodyman.

Cecilworth Farthington: Jace and Max are stomping mad, I get that, I mean I was only doing the correct and moral thing in saving the fucking Rumble at the Rock main event, but sadly those two men are as egocentric as they are morons, it’s a deadly combination.

Cecilworth looks up to the ceiling for a second and mutters “or maybe they’re babies”.

Cecilworth Farthington: Also, can we pause for a moment and enjoy the fact that Sutler REYNOLDS DASH KAEL just tried to complain about nepotism on national television? Yes, Sutler REYNOLDS DASH KAEL sure would hate the ole nepotism wouldn’t he?

Cecilworth face scrunches up into a scowl, in complete and total disgust.

Cecilworth Farthington: Little Master Sutler, in your world I’m sure you are the most important person to ever exist, I’m sure in your precious child like world, me and you are in some kind of blood feud because I locked you in an armbreaker after I hit Jace with a camera. The truth is, I gave you the avenue for revenge should you seek it and despite the bluster, salt and anger, you don’t seem to want it. It doesn’t matter what throne you sit on or what colour of hair your stylist washed in this week, if someone stole MY World Championship opportunity away from me, I’d seek their blood, not piss around in a comedy sketch.

Cecilworth does mocking “spooky fingers” but I cannot describe what they look like as they are beyond simple human understanding.

Cecilworth Farthington: Clearly your father’s books have taught you nothing about me. Did you think I’d sign your fucking stupid Rumble at the Rock contract because you said some mean words in your little skit? Gosh, you are the ignorant zoomer I read so much about on the internet. Sutler, I have no reason to wrestle you, I am not a wrestler. I certainly have no reason to have a match within the dangerous and career shortening confines of Alcatraz on the one year anniversary of your father’s tragic and untimely death. You fear the confines of an HOFC cage? Aces! I guess I’ll continue to live my life. We are NOT in a blood feud, you simply annoyed me with your zoomer screeching like Jace did with his unearned confidence, sometimes stories are simple, sometimes they are basic, they don’t need five thousand layers like a genetically modified onion. Two babies wanted a World Title match, they didn’t deserve it so it got taken away from them. End of story.

Cecilworth clasps his hands together, as if shutting an imaginary book.

Cecilworth Farthington: Little Master Sutler, as you are not that bright, let me add a little summary to this whole thing. A match? On your terms? At Alcatraz? No thanks.

Cecilworth’s scowl shrinks down to a smirk, as he nods at his bodyman, who grunts in return. The bodyman shoves the microphone back at a still huffing and puffing Brian Bare. The duo walk out of shot as the camera fades out.

We cut back inside the arena. With the main event still to come the crowd is absolutely hot. We focus on Blaire Moise standing off in one of the hallways backstage. The cameraman begins counting down Blaire then gives her the signal that they are live as she raises the microphone up to her lips.

Blaire Moise: Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the #1 ranked wrestler in HOW Jace Parker Davidson!

Jace walks into camera range wearing street clothes since he isn’t booked to compete tonight.

Blaire Moise: It’s been a rough few weeks for you, Jace. First losing the HOTv Title then last week your match for a World Championship title shot going to a no contest against Sutler Reynolds-Kael.

JPD: Yeah losing the HOTv title was unfortunate but I became distracted with getting a shot at #97red and that was my downfall. QT Reese needed to wrestle the match of his life to beat me but as you can see from earlier tonight. The HOTv title has been a hot potato since I lost it. No one’s been able to get past one defense of the title without coughing it up. So, I might not be HOTv Champion anymore but I’m still the greatest HOTv Champion this company has ever seen.

Jace pauses for a moment to gather his thoughts.

JPD: As far as last week goes I could place the blame on a lot of people. I could blame the referee. I could blame Farthington for attacking both me and SRK. Or I could either blame Mike Best himself if I really wanted to but honestly? I blame myself for what happened out there. There are so many different things I could have done in that situation especially with what was on the line but that’s on me.

Blaire Moise: So how are you feeling after all that?

JPD: How am I feeling?!

Jace looks down at Blaire like she’s lost her mind.

JPD: I’m fucking livid, Blaire. My anger rivals that of the sun here in Phoenix, Arizona.

Blaire Moise: Well you have a chance at redemption coming up at Rumble at the Rock where—

Blaire is cut off and she screams loudly as a steel chair flies into the camera shot. The Behemoth from Plainview finally comes into view and crushes JPD across the face with the chair. Clay Byrd turns towards Blaire for a moment, sending her running, before going back to laying into JPD. Jace is laying up against the wall, while Byrd drives the chair into his throat, choking him and whispers something just low enough that we can’t quite make out what was said. Byrd throws the chair down on top of Jace and walks away laughing as we head to commercial break.

Bryan McVay: Our challenger tonight hails from Queens, New York. Weighing in at two-hundred forty seven pounds… KEVIN CAAAAAAPONE!

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 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.

Bryan McVay: Our champion hails from Toronto, Ontario, Canada, weighing two-hundred and ten pounds, Conor FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUSE!

Benny Newell: He might be your champion Joe, but my champion is Michael Best.

Joe Hoffman: Already with the Mike Best worship Benny?

Benny Newell: We’ll see who gets a raise this year.

“Bloody Tears (Epic Version)” from Castlevania II begins. A purple mist floods the entrance way as “The Vintage” Conor Fuse emerges from behind the apron 23-seconds into the theme. He stands at the top of the rampway, head down, sporting a dark purple jacket with its high-collar raised. The jacket is open, showing his vintage SNES tights as he slowly raises his head. The fog continues to pump from the stage as Fuse methodically makes his way down the ramp. The crowd starts a “!rank” chant, pointing in Conor’s direction as he marches towards ringside. Once in front of the squared circle, The Vintage leaps onto the apron and then with ease clears the ropes by jumping over them and somersaulting into the middle of the ring. Fuse tilts his head back and zen cries into the rafters while the fans in attendance continue to cheer him on. Conor removes his trench coat, revealing his trademarked light purple arm sleeve on his left arm. Fuse waits in his corner.

Conor Fuse starts the matchup off by running to the ropes. Fuse comes back quickly, and Capone hits the ground letting Fuse leapfrog over. Fuse comes back and goes for a tornado DDT, but Capone counters and spins Fuse around for a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker.

Benny Newell: I hate both of these guys, but I hate Fuse more.

Joe Hoffman: What a move from Kevin Capone and a great start to this match!

Capone applies a rear chinlock to the champion and sits back on it. Fuse struggles his way to his feet and manages to throw a few sharp elbows into Capone’s midsection. Fuse once again relies on his speed and bounds towards the ropes. Fuse comes back looking for a spinning heel kick but Capone ducks under the move and hits the ropes himself.

Benny Newell: Ha! What an idiot!

Joe Hoffman: Capone is taking control of this match.

Capone comes back just as Fuse kips up to his feet and smashes him with a running clothesline. Fuse stumbles through the ropes to the apron. Capone runs over and brings the World Champion to his feet and delivers a shot across the shoulder blades. Capone hooks Fuse and sends him crashing to the mat with a snap suplex from the apron back into the ring.

Benny Newell: I don’t think Fuse wants to win, he’s scared of Mike Best.

Joe Hoffman: You would think that.

Benny Newell: It only makes sense. After last year at Rumble At The Rock…

Capone is on the world champion once again, this time trying to lock him in a crossface chicken wing. Fuse fights his way back to his feet, Fuse manages to pick Capone’s leg and roll him up with a victory roll.

Matt Boettcher: 1!

Matt Boettcher: 2!

Capone kicks out hard. Fuse explodes forward immediately hitting the ropes and leaps off the middle rope using it as a springboard. Capone is barely back to his feet when the World Heavyweight champion crashes into him with a lionsault. Fuse once again kips up, and the crowd starts to lose their mind.

Benny Newell: Oh shut up! Capone’s fine!

Joe Hoffman: Conor Fuse has a head full of steam here Benny…

Fuse immediately plants Capone to the mat with a standing skytwister press. Fuse kips up again, and the crowd continues to go berserk. Capone manages to get to his feet, while Fuse cheers him on. Capone makes it to his feet and catches a superkick in the mouth. Capone falls to his knees and catches a second super kick for good measure. Fuse hooks the leg and covers.

Matt Boettcher: 1!

Matt Boettcher: 2!

Benny Newell: DID I SAY HOW MUCH I HATE BOTH OF THEM?

Capone kicks out at the last second. Fuse is back to his feet, and gives Boettcher a small grin. Boettcher assures him it was only two, and Fuse shrugs his shoulders. Capone manages to make his way to his feet, and Fuse comes back across the ring at the challenger. Capone manages to step out of the way of the running World Champion and half irish whip him into the corner.

Benny Newell: Oh not this shit…

Fuse stops himself at the last second and starts slamming the turnbuckle while screaming to power himself up. The fans clap along every time he slams the turnbuckle, and chant “!RANK”. Capone runs into the corner but Fuse manages to step out of the way this time and starts unloading with his DOOM stomps while still smacking the turnbuckle.

Benny Newell: I can’t wait for Mike Best to kill this kid.

Joe Hoffman: The World Champion has been near unstoppable lately Benny…

Benny Newell: It’s Mike Best.

Fuse runs to the closest corner and scales his way to the top rope. He waits for the challenger to get to his feet, and explodes off crushing him with a missile dropkick. Fuse runs and hits the ropes again, coming back and smashing Capone’s skull into the mat with a double foot stomp. Fuse lays himself across Capone and hooks both legs.

Matt Boettcher: 1…

Matt Boettcher: 2…

Matt Boettcher: 3!

DING DING

Bryan McVay: Your winner, and still High Octane World Heavyweight Champion… CONOR FUUUUUUUSE!

The fans, having just counted to three along with Boettcher, give their champion a resounding ovation as Conor takes the World Championship from Boettcher and holds it high in the air after his dominating defense here tonight.

Joe Hoffman: One more week to go Benny…….join us next week as Refueled 77 is our last stop before Rumble at the Rock on October 3oth live from Alcatraz Prison.

Benny Newell: Some of you need to stay offline till then……seriously.

With that Refueled comes to an end as the hard camera zooms in on the World Champion.

World Championship Match
Michael Lee Best vs. Conor Fuse©

97 Minute Iron Man Match for the LSD Championship
Jatt Starr vs. John Sektor©

7 Deadly Sins Match for the HOTv Championship
Steve Solex vs. Doozer vs. Eli Dresden vs. Scottywood vs. Bobby Dean vs. Brian Hollywood vs. Jeffrey James Roberts©

Infirmary Match with the winner earning a spot in the Main Event at ICONIC
Jace Parker Davidson vs. Clay Byrd

 Guard Tower Match
Darin Zion vs. Xander Azula

General Population Match
Rah vs. High Flyer