Refueled XLV

The show begins live as the camera is pointed straight at the middle of the ring where, Best Alliance member, Steve Solex is being booed to death by the crowd in attendance. Solex is standing between two podiums, each of which provides a pillar to display the two tag team titles.

Joe Hoffman: Folks welcome to Refueled Forty-Five and what a lineup we have here for you tonight. But it looks as though Steve Solex is going to kick things off with a Tag Title presentation for our newly crowned champions, Jatt Starr and John Sektor.

Benny Newell: And LONG may they reign! The Tag division used to suck but now it’s on fire!

Solex brings the microphone up to his mouth, his moustache quivering with his distaste for the hostile crowd.

Solex: Filthy whores, sluts and trash-bag HOES…and gentlemen..

Joe Hoffman: Here he goes, continuing to belittle and insult the female gender.

Benny Newell: He’s supporting men’s rights, Joe. You got a vagina between your legs or what?

Solex: It is my honour and privilege to introduce to you, the new Tag Team champions of the world. Representing the Best Alliance..John Sektor, Jatt Starr…STARRRRSEK…INDUSTRIIIIIIIES!

“HEEEEEEERE WE ARE….BORN TO BE KINGS…WE’RE THE PRINCES OF THE UNIVERSE

HEEEEEERE WE BELONG”

DUDUM!

“FIGHTING TO SURVIVE IN A WAR WITH THE DARKEST POWERRRR!”

The legendary Queen guitar riff begins to play as green and gold lasers begin to bounce around the stage. Soon six women, dressed in nothing but skimpy lingerie begin pulling a platform with long chains over their shoulders, much like the slaves in Egypt.

On top of the platform are the newest Tag Champions. Sektor is dressed in a sparkling gold and blue jacket encrusted with thousands of tiny jewels, proudly puffing on a cigar as he looks out around the arena. Jatt Starr sporting black Adidas sneakers with white stripes, a blue Thundercats t-shirt showing Lion-O’s eyes looking through the Sword of Omens that reads “Give Me Sight Beyond Sight”, and a white suit with the sleeves rolled up.

Joe Hoffman: Good Lord. I expected over the top but I never expected this.

Benny Newell: An entrance worthy of HOW royalty. Bow down!

The women are grimacing as they struggle to pull the two heavyweights on the platform. Sekror smirks and bends down, picking up a faux leather whip and proceeding to whip the two women at the back of the towing line. The camera then cuts to Solex who is beaming red with laughter and wiping tears from his eyes.

As the platform nears the ring the girls stop and both Sektor and Jatt pump their fists in the air in unison as pyros begin shooting out of the back of the platform, lighting up the entire arena.

Two of the girls stand on either side and extend their delicate hands to help each champion down, escorting them to the ring with forced, toothy smiles on their faces. Once on the apron, the girls hold open the ropes and the two Hall of Famers duck into the ring, raising their hands proudly. As the music fades the boos replace the Iconic music.

Solex: Shut your ungrateful mouths, you assholes should consider yourselves lucky to be in the presence of greatness.

More boo’s as Sektor just smiles and gestures to Solex not to worry about it.

Solex: Jatt..Sektor..it is my absolute privilege to present the two of you with your brand new shiny titles.

The crowd try their hardest to ruin the moment as Solex lifts each title off the podium and hands them to Jatt and Sektor. Jatt and Sektor then both climb the turnbuckles facing the cameras and lift them high in the air as confetti cannons let out huge bangs. The scene is soon a mixture of green, gold and #97red confetti. Balloons with the same colors begin to fall from the ceiling.

Jatt and Sektor both hop down, looking up as the confetti and balloons still fall, smiling from ear to ear and enjoying this moment. Sektor then takes the microphone from Solex.

Sektor: Before I begin I want to thank you, Steve. First of all for organising all of this..

He says, gesturing round at the various props.

Sektor: ..and also? For calling such a fair and just match last week! You really called it down the middle man and thanks to you? Justice was served and StarrSek Industries can now begin cleaning up this tag division!

More booing as the crowd breaks into a chant of:

“FUCK-KING CHEAT-ERS” CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP

Sektor just ignores this and begins talking over the top of them.

Sektor: And Jatt? I just want to say, what a truly great moment this is for me. After all these years knowing one another? This is the perfect way to mark a great friendship. I love ya man.

Sektor extends his arms and the two of them embrace one another before Sektor hands the microphone over to Jatt.

Jatt Starr: Praise be to the HOW gods. Gooble-Gobble!

Unfortunately, the fans in the audience do not follow the Sovereign of Starrgentina’s lead (nor does Sektor or Steve Solex).

Jatt Starr: Last night, I had another vision. A vision of the future. And there, in front of the Best Arena, a shrine was created. Was it of Mario Maurako and Paul Paras? No. Was it of Ground Zero? Negative. Was it of the eGG Bandits? Nein! It was of StarrSek Industries. The gods are infallible and all seeing.

John Sektor, while skeptical of Jatt Starr’s current belief system, nods. Who wouldn’t nod at a shrine in their honor? The Ruler of Jattlantis turns towards Sektor.

Jatt Starr: John, sharing these belts with you, after everything we’ve been through together, it’s special. We’ve had our wars in the past but when I was left in a broken heap and my then wife was stabbed in the eye, you stepped up, man. You had my back then, you have it now. And, I will have your back, Broman Brolanski. Always.

Jatt Starr and Sektor offer up a fist bump.

Jatt Starr: But, as Emissary to the HOW gods, I would be remiss if I did not mention the other vision I had received. Upon witnessing the StarrSek Shrine, I was led by the Messenger of the HOW gods, Max Kael into the arena. My eyes were opened to the horrific truth and the path that was laid before me became clear.

The Ruler of Jattlantis looks out towards the crowd eyeing them all.

Jatt Starr: Linds. Three weeks ago, I gave you the opportunity to walk away. I warned you, Linds. I WARNED you.

Sektor pats his intensity-fueled team mate on the back and delicately peels the microphone out of his hand.

Sektor: Now, understand this. When we said we would make the tag division the hottest division in the world? We meant it. That is why WE, will be deciding who is worthy of challenging us for these titles.

He, Jatt and Solex all smirk at one another as the crowd boos with disapproval.

Sektor: Mario is BA, guys and he runs this division. Which means WE run this division. Therefore, The Hollywood Boyz will NOT be getting a rematch!

The boos rain down ferociously as the Chicago faithful let them know exactly how they feel.

Sektor: Not until they prove they deserve it at least. Right now? I don’t see any viable contenders. I don’t see any other teams. So for now, Jatt and I will continue our preparations for our individual missions at Iconic. Namely finishing off the dregs of the old Best Alliance as we destroy Linds and High Flyer. Because now..

The ominous, opening chords to “Put ‘Em in the Grave” by Jedi Mind Tricks begins playing right over the Gold Standard, and the HOW Faithful explode in cheers as Lindsay Troy, mic in hand and already dressed for her LSD match against Hughie Freeman, moseys out onto the stage. She regards the men of the Best Alliance with an amused expression as her music softly fades out.

Lindsay Troy: Well. If it isn’t My Two Deadbeat Dads and Commander Viper Metcalf of the MRA. Hope you’re not mad that I didn’t go with Top Gun references across the board; I didn’t want to hear you two…

She points to Jatt and Sektor

Lindsay Troy: …bickering over who’d be Maverick when everyone here wishes you’d both wind up like Goose.

Sektor looks a bit confused, which prompts Jatt to quickly explain the “Top Gun” remark. The boys are not amused.

Lindsay Troy: Yes, Jatt, you “warned” me. For weeks now, that’s all you’ve said; walk away, LT. Do it while you still can. Don’t make me be the one to break you, to run you out of here for good. Real good suggestion coming from a broken man who knows a lot about running, right? End of the day, I think you’re all bark and no bite, Starrman.

Jatt Starr: “Deadbeat.” Classy, Linds. Except, I don’t quite think you’re “Head of the Class.” So allow me to give you a lesson in “The Facts of Life” when it comes to HOW. You can label us “deadbeats.” But here’s a little bit of knowledge. Sektor’s daughter was kidnapped by a crazed psychopath who mentally tortured her for YEARS.

The crowd BOOOOOOs at Jatt’s allusion to Max Kael. Sektor looks over at the King of Grapple from the Big Apple and simmers with rage. Jatt Starr shrugs. Troy takes the momentary pause to throw another barb in.

Lindsay Troy: Oh, speaking ill of the dead now? Edgy. Sounds like it’s kinda too soon for that one, buddy.

Jatt seethes but ignores her and presses on, undeterred.

Jatt Starr: My family left after YOUR best bud, Mikey Best, stabbed my ex-wife in the bleeping eye. My daughter left me after her mother apparently rose from the dead, suddenly showed up, and they left. We’re not deadbeats. We’re saints in comparison to the company you keep!

The Marquis of MadagaStarr stares down Lindsay Troy.

Jatt Starr: Tell me, are the rumors true? Are you and Mikey more than just “Bosom Buddies?” Did ol’ Mikey like to snort cocaine off your “Twin Peaks” on a regular basis? Doesn’t matter. Your arrogance, Linds, will be your downfall. Your arrogance in thinking that you can have it all, the family and HOW. Your arrogance in thinking you can stroll out here like Lady Elaine Fairchilde passing judgment on us when you should be preparing for your match tonight against Hughie Freeman for the LSD Championship. Your arrogance in thinking Mikey B cares one iota about you. You’re on the verge of becoming obsolete, Lindsay. But you know what? I’m a giving sort.

Sektor looks over at Jatt who continues to lock eyes with Lindsay Troy.

Jatt Starr: Since your chances at beating Hughie tonight are “Less Than Zero”, how’s about next week, StarrSek Industries defend the HOW Tag Team Championships against you and a man whose name is more obsolete than Pong…HIGH FLYER!

The crowd goes nuts. Lindsay looks momentarily stunned at the challenge before she, finally, starts chuckling.

Lindsay Troy: Me and Harmen.

Jatt Starr: Who’s Harmen?

Sektor: High Flyer.

Jatt Starr: No wonder he changed his name.

Troy appears to be thinking about this. Finally, a cool, slow smile graces the Queen’s lips.

Lindsay Troy: Alright, Jatt. I think Jack and I can put aside the pettiness long enough to coexist for fifteen minutes against you two. Just don’t get too comfy with those tag belts. You’re so used to things leaving, after all.

Jatt looks ready to explode with another pop culture laden tirade when Sektor snatches the microphone from him.

Sektor: Linds, do me a favour and shut that filthy money maker for once in your life. You ain’t gonna win these titles. This is nothing more than a fucking tune up for Jatt and I before we deliver your heads to Lee Best’s office at ICONIC. And where the fuck is Harmen? The so-called ‘big money’ signing from 2019 who’s done Jack shit since he got here?

Unexpectedly, a voice booms out from over the PA system.

Mary-Lynn Mayweather: My client graciously accepts your proposal.

Stepping out from the backstage area is none other than the Tiny Attorney, the council of High Flyer, Mary-Lynn Mayweather. She wears three inch heels that still give six inches up to Troy, as she tilts down her emerald green glasses to flash her extended red eyelashes. Emerging behind her to a cheer from the crowd is High Flyer, who paces a good six feet away from Troy. He wears a “This Is The Darkest Timeline” t-shirt which has a Max Kael inspired red eye on the 1 side of a die. Troy and Harmen exchange looks, at which Harmen’s nose unconsciously flares. Jack is just as concerned with Sektor and Starr in the ring, as he is with Troy just steps away. His protege is the physical buffer between the two former allies turned sour enemies.

Mary-Lynn Mayweather greets Troy warmly, like two old cohorts who haven’t seen each other in ages.

Mary-Lynn Mayweather: My client has also advised I say the following.

Mary-Lynn Mayweather pulls out a scroll. She unravels it, and it falls to the stage. Troy rolls her eyes, hard, very used to these antics, as Flyer nods and smiles from about five feet away. He hasn’t stopped pacing, and he cracks his knuckles as he does.

Mary-Lynn Mayweather: To you, Mr. Starr, you’re lucky the dead stay dead, because the last person I’d speak ill of is Max freaking Kael. In addition, just so you’re completely aware, nobody cares about your family and your family doesn’t care about you. Go cry to a therapist instead of on National TV like a whiny pansy.

The Ruler of Jattlantis glares at Mary-Lynn as she turns her head to Flyer for approval. She only gets the slightest of acknowledgment.

Mary-Lynn Mayweather: AND TO YOU, Mr. Sektor. Would you kindly fuck off for six months? Oh, you already did that? Welcome back. You’re going to regret returning. Because my client Jack Harmen, aka High Flyer, aka the Wildcard, also known as Your Friendly Neighborhood Lunatic, is going to do to YOU, what Max did to your daughter. Cause great crazy minds think alike. And to the third guy in the ring… You’ve been so helpful to everyone tonight, can you kindly fetch me a coffee? Just one sugar please. Oh, and a bowl of red pretzel m&ms if it’s not too much hassle. Thank you.

Lindsay is about to respond but Jatt Starr interrupts.

Jatt Starr: CUT THOSE VILE, BLASPHEMING HARPIES’ MICS, NOW!!! YOU TWO MUST HAVE A “DEATH WISH!! BECAUSE YOU MESS WITH THE BULLS, YOU GET THE HORNS!!! PRAISE BE TO THE HOW GODS AND STARRSEK INDUSTRIES!!!!

“Princes of the Universe” by Queen blares across the arena as Jatt Starr and Sektor stare down at Lindsay Troy, High Flyer, and Mary-Lynn as we head to our first commercial break.

We return from commercial break to find Joe Hoffman and Benny Newell behind the announcers desk. Benny has a bottle of Jack held enthusiastically above his head while Joe appears to be reading over the show notes before realizing they are back on the air.

Joe Hoffman: Welcome back ladies and gentlemen, if you are just joining us, I’m Joe Hoffman, this is in comparable Benny Newell, this is High Octane Wrestling’s Refueled XLV!

Benny Newell: Is.. is it about time for a name change?

Joe Hoffman: You never know what the talking heads upstairs are thinking but we’re certainly getting our mileage out of Roman Numerals.

We cut to the ring where Kevin Capone can be seen already posing in the ring. It’s hard to describe him, nearly impossible to tell anything specific, like a human shape just slightly out of focus. Honestly it is a little off putting so your mind just tries to ignore him. He’s there, we all know he is but nobody can really say for sure what he looks like, what he is wearing or what exactly he’s doing.

Joe Hoffman: Kevin Capone, who is currently on a little bit of a losing streak, is already waiting in the ring for our first bout.

Benny Newell: And if he loses.. He’s fired!

Joe Hoffman: This is true, Lee has been looking to lighten the load heading into the winter months, right before Thanksgiving. A real family program.

Benny Newell: He only asks that you show up, Hoffman!

Bryan McVay looks confused as he stares in the direction of Kevin Capone, shaking it off before he lifts the microphone to his lips.

Bryan McVay: ..Introducing first.. Hailing from.. Weighing in a.. And standing at.. Uh.. Kevin.. Capone!

There is a very neutral reaction from the crowd. Something happens in the ring, could be posing, could be that Kevin tripped. Again, it is hard to look directly at him as the world seems to blur out of focus the harder one tries. Spoopy stuff, wasn’t Halloween last month?

There is a loud crack as the lights die inside the Best Arena. The angry early cords of Solence’s cover of “Believer” before the song settles into the lyrics, the lead singer’s voice filled with just the right level of petulance and youthful rage. A pillar of white light shines down on the stages as the Son of Scions, Sutler Reynolds-Kael, swaggers out onto the stage wearing a leather jacket, his wavy mop of black hair sporting a defiant crack of #97red. A pair of sunglasses sits perched on his nose, one lens blue, one lens red.

The sounds of people chanting and cheering Sutler’s name fills the arena though, as the lights rise, it becomes apparent that most of the crowd is not reacting in such a manner. In fact it becomes pretty evident that almost all of the crowd noise is being piped. The brash young SRK doesn’t seem to notice or care, reacting as though he were being given a hero’s welcome.

Halfway down to the ring he stops to pose, his middle and index finger of his left hand pointed straight above his head as he cuts his thumb across his neck, his tongue hanging out like an idiot. As he does so the stage erupts in explosive pyro, way more than should be afforded for a guy who has yet to wrestle one professional match. As the pyro finishes Sutler continues his swaggering walk down to the ring, hopping up onto the apron with a cocky smirk stretched across his face.

Bryan McVay: And his opponent.. Fro-

Before Bryan can continue Sutler rushes over, whispering something into his ear while handing him a small piece of paper. McVay looks down at the paper, back up at Sutler then back down, shrugging after a few contemplative seconds.

Bryan McVay: ..From Chicago, Illinois, standing at 6’1’’ and weighing in at 176 lbs.. He is the Son of Scions and unlike his father, has enjoyed Depth Perception for his entire life… SUTLER REYNOLDS-KAAAAAAAAAAEL!

More piped in cheering as Sutler poses in the corner, whatever charm he had having worn off after the shot at his own father. Despite the cheering noises the faces of several of the front row crowd seems to indicate hostility.

DING-DING-DING!

As the bell rings Sutler Reynolds-Kael flies out of the corner catching Kevin in the chin with a rising knee! Capone this the mat hard, clutching his head as he staggers back up to his feet. Sutler hits a stiff kick to his opponent’s stomach.

SON OF SIN!

Sutler entangles his opponent’s neck and upper torso in his legs, locking them together as he applies a Leg Triangle Choke to Capone! Kevin taps nearly immediately as Sutler releases the hold.

WINNER: SUTLER REYNOLDS-KAEL VIA SUBMISSION IN 6 SECONDS!

Joe Hoffman: Well that was over as quickly as it started, an impressive start for Sutler Reynolds-Kael as he taps out Kevin Capone with what he calls The Sutler Method.

Benny Newell: And listen to these people! They love him!

Joe Hoffman: Benny, I don’t think.. The fans are cheering.

Benny Newell: Sure they are! Can’t you hear them Hoffman!? Why you gotta be so negative?! DRINK!!

Sutler continues to celebrate in the ring as though he just won the World Title, showered by fake cheers as “Believer” by Solence blares angrily over the PA system. What a way to segway to our first segment of the night!

Back live and it’s a night off from competition for Zeb Martin. However, the ending of last week’s episode of Refueled had generated quite the buzz. Save for a tweet or two, the Watson Mill Kid had mostly kept silent regarding his actions after the tag team title match, where he’d issued a receipt in the form of a chair shot to Steve Solex. Was it just as simple as that? Or was there an ulterior motive?

Martin pulled a swig from a large clear Solo cup, as it was his usual preparation before having to be on camera. Based on the fact that he was only 19, we can only guess by the color that the liquid held within it was apple juice — as there’s no way High Octane Wrestling would encourage the underage consumption of alcohol on the premises of Lee Best Arena. Glancing to his left, his brows raise as he is called over to the production area by a member of the crew.

With no convenient place to set his beverage, Martin opts to leave it on top of a large black storage box. Adjusting his Ricky Rudd cap and smoothing out any wrinkles of his black Georgia Bulldogs shirt, he makes a short walk over and politely shakes the hand of Blaire Moise.

Zeb Martin: How y’all doin’?

Blaire had never had a one-on-one with the kid, but based on his mannerisms, she was certain that she could get the inside scoop. He’d readily agreed to take the interview upon her call. Though her journalistic abilities were likely enough, she still opted to play on his teenage innocence by subtly touching his arm after the initial greeting. Not a risk she’d normally take with the larger part of the roster, but Zeb seemed completely harmless.

Blaire Moise: I don’t think anyone’s too interested in that, Zeb. What the High Octane audience wants to know, though, is how are you? After the dissolution of the eGG Bandits, you opted to attack your former mentor during the Max Kael tribute show. You shed a little light on the situation before your match with Doozer, but can you tell us why you did what you did?

Martin lowers his eyelids. It was a scenario that he’d replayed in his head many times since the incident.

Zeb Martin: Blaire, reckon I kin put it to y’all like this. I got two lil’ sisters, both uh which I had a lotta fun pickin’ on ‘em growin’ up. I’s out washin’ my momma’s car one day, and both of ‘em walked outside. I on’t care who ye are. If you holdin’ a water hose in yer hand and yer siblin’s dumb enough tuh get near ya, you go’n spray ‘em. Don’t matter the con-suh-quence afterwards, ‘cause the laugh you go’n git is always worth the risk.

He smiles in recollection, pausing briefly to enjoy the memory.

Zeb Martin: My youngest ‘un up and ran in the house and cried tuh Mamma. The other ‘un? Might’s well uh kicked a hornet’s nest. Didn’t matter she was soakin’ wet. She chased my ass all around the yard and up a tree and waited fer me to git down fer thirty minutes. I thought she’d dun calmed down by then, but naw. Jumped up ‘n popped me in the jaw real good and snuck a knee tuh my, uh…

How cute. He’s too embarrassed to say any sort of synonym for the word “testicles” in front of Ms. Moise.

Zeb Martin: Yeah. Anyway, guess which ‘un I never sprayed with the hose again? That’s uh thang I done learned growin’ up. You kin whine and carry on when family does you dirty, or you kin’ wait it out and git yer shot in when it’s there.

Blaire Moise: Sounds like your older sister is a real firecracker.

Zeb Martin: Shoot, they both are! Younger ‘un learned purty soon after tuh slap around big bubba when she got pissed off at ‘em. Love y’all, Kennie and Kenzie.

He gives a wink and a wave to the camera lens, knowing full well that they would hate (but secretly love) the shout out on television.

Blaire Moise: Well, I suppose that explains the attack on Doozer, but does the same mentality apply for Steve Solex? He came after you unprompted, and last week, it seemed as though you returned the message.

Zeb Martin: Funny you should pair the two, Blaire. If ya thank about it, Dooze ‘n Steve’s mustard ‘n ketchup. Both of ‘em had brothers here in H-O-Dubya that they up and turnt the other way on. Reckon the only difference is Dooze was content with spittin’ once ‘er twice in the face while Steve takes a notion tuh try and show his butt any time he kin. Heck, he even changed his dern music tuh Avenged Sebenfold. Anyone who’s anyone dun knowin’ that only jerks still listen tuh that band. He’s a pickup with uh lift kit and mud tires that ain’t so much as kicked up dust on a dirt road.

Blaire Moise: I have a feeling he might take issue with that statement.

Zeb Martin: Welp, might just be opinion, but my point bein’ is Steve Solex an’ Doozer ain’t the Steve Solex and Doozer that they truly are. The Bandit and the Dad from Section 214. That’s who they are. But all of ‘ems got strangs and doin’ the Cotton-Eyed Joe by way uh Lee Best movin’ his hands around. Reckon that Jatt and Sektor’s a lil’ more willin’ and able, but them two’s takin’ marchin’ orders too, way I see it.

Blaire Moise: So you think this is all orchestrated by Lee Best? That they’ve been brainwashed, or maybe blackmailed into doing something that they don’t want to do?

Zeb chuckles a bit in response and shrugs his shoulders sheepishly.

Zeb Martin: I mean, this ain’t a Hollywood movie, so I on’t know if I’d jump that far into the briar patch. But a man who’d treat ANYONE like what he done did last week? Let alone a woman? Mr. Best, you know you done got four ‘rasslers who you could strap a leash on, old man. I dang shore knew when I signed up here tuh expect stuff I ain’t agreein’ with, but lemme tell you and e’rbody else here sumptin’. Them days of ol’ hee-hawin’, banjo-dancin’, gravy-drankin’ ‘I’m just a simple ol’ fishin’ boy’ Zeb Martin in the rearview mir’r now.

While there was no real shift in tone, Zeb’s natural pace was normally quicker despite his Southern drawl. The last two sentences were slow and methodical, catching Blaire a little off guard and thus derailing any leverage and control she once had in the interview. However, as a professional, she knew when to prod and when to let her subject go.

Zeb Martin: Tuh have tuh get a call from my Momma last Sunday and tell me how dang disgustin’ she thought that was? How my sisters had tuh watch that? Hell, how this woman right here next tuh me had tuh process HER BAWS pullin’ that bull hockey? You and yo’ Best Alliance done sprayed me with a water hose, far as I’m concerned. And there ain’t a tree tall enough I ain’t go’n climb ta whoop a man’s ass.

Martin collects himself and exhales, as Blaire looks up at him.

Blaire Moise: Zeb Martin, ladies and gentlemen.

Once again making sure to politely shake her hand before leaving, Zeb walks back in the opposite direction to retrieve his beverage. To a master of detail, the cup appeared to be a little more full than he’d last left it. However, Martin did not seem to notice. Looking for a way to quell his anger, he guzzled the remainder of the beer and tossed it into a nearby trash can.

The announce crew is interrupted by Conor Fuse marching down the rampway, without his theme to play him out or The Game Boy beside him. The Vintage slides into the ring and asks for a microphone.

Conor Fuse: Yeah… so this past month hasn’t been for me, that’s obviously clear.

Joe Hoffman: You can say that again. After going 4-0, Conor’s on a 3-match losing streak.

Benny Newell: I knew he couldn’t last.

Joe Hoffman: Okay but in fairness his opponents have been Dan Ryan, Jatt Starr, Hughie Freeman.

Benny Newell: So? At some point you have to hang with the big boys!

Conor continues…

Conor Fuse: Beaten down verbally, beaten down mentally. It’s sooo easy to get on top of the new guy who likes to game, isn’t it?

Benny Newell: It most certainly is, HA!

Joe Hoffman: Shut up and let him talk.

Conor Fuse: So let’s get to my public enemy number one right now, Scottywood. What the hell’s your problem, man? My first impression of you… you walk into an interview room and shoot your own interview, ripping on a dead guy? I don’t care what the hell Max Kael did to you or anybody else in the past. Cry me a bloody river… you filthy self-indulgent brats. The fact of the matter is Max is dead. You do realize death is finite, right? I’m not talking No Continues and things like that right now… I’m talking done. Finished. Enjoy the darkness, forever.

Joe Hoffman: Well, this got deep…

Conor Fuse: I’m also not making this about some guy I don’t know. I’m merely explaining my first impression of you, Scotty.

Conor starts pacing around the ring, trying to gain control of his emotions, although it’s becoming more difficult. It’s an intense and serious side of Conor he hasn’t shown since arriving in HOW.

Conor Fuse: My next impressions of you… just as poor. You’ve been watching me idly in the background for three weeks. I’m not an idiot, I just look like one…

Conor tries to break out of his serious state with a weak attempt at a joke. It doesn’t work, he’s still fuming.

Conor Fuse: It took a few hours to figure out you’re stalking me. I didn’t call attention to it because I didn’t know what the hell you wanted. You’re just… standing there… watching… with blood all over your body, someone else’s blood. First Kevin Capone’s and then mine. And this leads me to my third and final impression of you, Scottywood. I don’t know why you have decided to fixate on me… BUT AT LEAST I CAN STAND IN THE MIDDLE OF THIS RING AND TAKE MY BEATINGS LIKE A MAN. I don’t need to kick someone when they’re down.

The Vintage puts a finger in the air.

Conor Fuse: One issue, I know you can’t hear me. Your match against High Flyer is coming up so you’re either not here yet or just arriving. You’re a partial owner of the company and I get the impression you do whatever the hell you want.

Fuse walks over to the cameraman on the apron and gets into the lens.

Conor Fuse: I want you to know whatever problem you’ve talked yourself into having with me… it’s a lot more than you bargained for. It’s soooo easy to rip on my love of games… almost makes me puke when I hear people say it. Such a go-to. This time, though Scotty… I’mma do you one better. There are no fun and games. Not now, not after what you did. You better get some new material because you’re going to see a different side of The Vintage. You attacked me when I was defenseless like the GUTLESS coward you are.

Conor walks to the middle of the ring.

Conor Fuse: Whatever statement YOU wanted to make for yourself… I will make sure you get another opportunity. And another. And ANOTHER. However many you desire!

The fans garner support for Conor as he continues to pace around.

Conor Fuse: But I will do it man-to-man… face-to-face INSIDE THIS RING. I will go blow-to-blow with you and if you can knock me down and keep me out… I’ll give you all the credit in the world.

Coonr pulls up his shirt, revealing bandaged ribs from the beating last week.

Conor Fuse: Don’t get me wrong, I KNOW you’re a legend. Another Hall of Famer… and one revolving around, um, particular “tastes” if you will. It doesn’t scare me. In fact, your beatdown last week has ignited something inside me that I am looking forward to…

Joe Hoffman: Interesting development!

Conor Fuse: High Octane Wrestling is NOTHING more than a glorified frat house. Gotta be tough… gotta be a prick to everyone…

Fuse walks into the camera lens on the apron again.

Conor Fuse: WELL I’LL BE A PRICK RIGHT BACK TO YOU, SCOTTY. WHY DON’T YOU BRING THAT BARBED WIRE HOCKEY STICK DOWN… AND PRICK ME IN THE HEAD… ONE. MORE. TIME.

Conor drops the microphone and exits the ring.

Conor Fuse: I dare you.

The scene follows Fuse as he storms up the rampway and goes behind the curtain.

Joe Hoffman: I didn’t see that statement coming.

Benny Newell: Don’t worry, he’ll be 4-4 soon. This Conor Fuse experiment is over, HAHA!

Joe Hoffman: Conor just showed us he’s got a lot more than you give him credit for. If I was The Hardcore Artist, maybe the tides have turned. Maybe Scottywood should be looking out of the corner of his eyes……but what I do KNOW….it is time for another commercial break…

Joe Hoffman:  Welcome back everyone…..it is time to return tot he ring and should be a real good one coming up, High Flyer and Scottywood!

Benny Newell: Well, Flyer’s got some work cut out for him. That deadline against John Sektor at Iconic is coming and the challenge was made earlier tonight for High Flyer to challenge for the Tag Titles held by Sektor and Starr.  On the other hand, we have Scottywood, fresh off beating the shit out of Kevin Capone and Conor Fuse. Bless this man, Joe. Incredible work!

Joe Hoffman: [brushing it off] To the ring!

Brian McVay: Introducing first, weighing two-hundred-twenty-four pounds… HIIIIIIIIGGGHHHH FLLLLLLLLLLYYYYYYYERRRRRRRR!!!

“All Aboard! AH HA HA HA HA HA HA HA…” A light fog rises up from the entrance way as the opening guitar riff kicks in. Parting the smoke is The Wildcard, who stands confidently at the top of the entrance ramp. He tosses one hand up in a devil horn taunt and smiles slyly to the camera. He stomps his way to the ring, paying very little attention to the crowd. Once he reaches ringside, he slips in under the bottom rope, then sprawls on his back.

Bryan McVay: And his opponent, from New York, New York… weighing two-hundred-sixty-five pounds… The Hardcore Artist… SCOTTYWOOD!

“Beg” by Seether replaces Flyer’s theme as Scottywood makes his way down the ramp, eyes locked on the vet and ready to go.

Joe Hoffman: With Conor’s comments moments ago, you’d have to wonder if he’s nearby. My understanding is Scottywood arrived at the arena during the commercial break.

Benny Newell: That punk-ass kid ain’t coming out here. That’s why he got his statement out before Scott’s arrival. Pussy!

DING DING DING

Joe Hoffman: Scottywood charges Flyer but The Lunatic sidesteps him and Scotty goes right into the turnbuckle! Flyer rushes forward and hits a backwards slingblade to the hardcore specialist!

Benny Newell: The old man’s still quick!

Joe Hoffman: Flyer jumps to his feet, places three hard kicks in Scotty’s chest and then bounces off the ropes… oh Scottywood with a sidewalk slam!

The Hardcore Artist drops to his knees and starts reigning down punches into Flyer’s skull. The shots are stiff and impactful, echoing throughout the Best Arena as he looks like a man possessed.

Joe Hoffman: Something’s not right with Scottywood…

Benny Newell: You say this like it’s news, Joe. The reality of the situation is there’s something wrong with both these guys!

Joe Hoffman: Scottywood whips Flyer into the turnbuckle but the vet stops before he hits it, puts his arms out and immediately stands upon the top rope… moonsault coming… it connects!

ONE!

TWO!

KICKOUT!

Joe Hoffman: The Wildcard is trying to keep a fast-pace here. He whips Scottywood into a snapmare suplex and floats over… into a corkscrew suplex! With the HOW Hall of Famer placed firmly in the middle of the canvas… Flyer races into the ropes and drives the double knees into Scottywood’s head!

However, Scott blocks the following kick and then another. He rifles a forearm into The Lunatic’s skull before hammering a couple more hard shots and getting to his feet. The Hardcore Artist starts choking Flyer but the referee tells him to break it as they get into a corner. Surprisingly, Scottywood does. Scott takes a step back but then crashes in hard with a clothesline! Spit flies from Flyer’s mouth as The Friendly Neighborhood Lunatic stumbles out of the corner and the expression changes across Scotty’s face…

Benny Newell: It’s like he’s in a trance!

Joe Hoffman: This is the look he’s been stalking Conor Fuse with!

Scottywood throws himself into Flyer with a shoulder block and then leans in on the punches once more. Flyer tries to cover up… tries to roll into the ropes but there’s no breaking free until Scotty is done with him. Dragging Flyer to his feet, Scott yells “FUCK BOSTON” into the crowd as he looks to inflict more punishment with the Boston crab submission.

Joe Hoffman: Not a bad play here at all! Scotty’s got the move locked in and Flyer dead-to-rights in the middle of the ring! Age has caught up to the aerial expert and this could limit any further damage, even if he’s able to break the hold-

As Hoffman explains the strategy, The Wildcard has moved himself closer to the ropes and he’s about to take hold of them…

Joe Hoffman: No! Scottywood drags High Flyer back to the center of the- ROLL UP BY FLYER!

ONE!

TWO!

KICKOUT!

Benny Newell: Shit, I thought that was a three!

High Flyer struggles to gain a vertical base, taking hold of his right leg as he does. Feeling no effects (other than shock), The Hardcore Artist gets to his feet first and takes Flyer down with a chopblock on the back of the right knee! Punches reign down on Flyer again but this time, The Lunatic is closer to the ropes! He takes hold of the second rope, pushing up and off of Scottywood. This pisses Scotty off, as he furiously races towards his opponent but gets caught up on the top rope when Flyer rolls out of the way…

Joe Hoffman: Legsweep inverted DDT by Flyer! Now he’s looking for that double underhook brainbuster… Scotty slips away! You could see Flyer didn’t have a good base under him and with Scotty being the heavier man, it was not meant to be!

Scottywood knocks Flyer for a loop with another stiff fist to the side of the head. He bounces off the ropes, screaming towards his opponent…

Joe Hoffman: OH!! The Yakuza Kick! The Locomotive! Flyer hits Scotty with it!

ONE.

TWO.

THREE.

DING DING DING

Bryan McVay: Winner of the match….HIIIIGHHHHHHH FLYYYYYYYYYYYYERRRRRR!!

Joe Hoffman: And High Flyer prevails in this back-and-forth contest!

Flyer rolls to a corner, trying to catch his breath while holding the back of his right knee.

Benny Newell: Old man’s gonna be feeling that one for days!

Joe Hoffman: Well, he won. It was worth it.

Eventually, Flyer exits the ring as he walks up the rampway.

Joe Hoffman: A good victory for Flyer, as he continues on his own path towards John Sektor at Iconic!

Meanwhile, as Scotty gets to his feet…

Joe Hoffman: CONOR FUSE!

The Vintage stands across the way from The Hardcore Artist… calling for Scotty to take it to-him.

Joe Hoffman: At his word, Conor wants to face the man who has stalked him…

Scottywood thinks about it… but it’s taking far too long.

Joe Hoffman: Conor tackles Scotty down… hammering a fury of left forearms into his head!

The crowd is behind the beating as Conor shows a vicious side. Fuse slams Scotty’s head against the mat, ultimately rolling across the canvas with him as the two fall out of the ring. Fuse pushes off Scotty and blasts him in the side of the head with a stiff kick! Conor looks under the apron and pulls out…

That same barbed wire hockey stick.

Benny Newell: Hey, that’s not yours!

The Vintage starts talking to himself as the camera pans to show Scottywood leaned up against the steel steps and Conor Fuse holding the stick in his hand. Fuse is deep in thought… you can see he’s being pulled in a number of directions right now. However, ultimately, Conor starts shaking his head no…

Conor Fuse: No… no… no… no… I have to do this my way. [Talking to himself] I have to do this MY WAY!!!

THUMP.

Joe Hoffman: FUSE WITH A DOUBLE KNEE TAKE-OUT, POUNDING SCOTTY’S HEAD OFF THE STEEL STEPS!

Conor’s not finished. Fuse rolls to his feet and screams into The Hardcore Artist’s face.

Conor Fuse: C’MON! Get up… GET. UP. I TOOK IT TO YOU CLEAN!!

Conor peels Scotty off the floor and Irish whips him into the ring post across the way! The impact is met with a THUD. Conor has no quit, as Scotty stumbles around, not being put down just yet…

CRRRRRAAAASH!!!!

Joe Hoffman: CONOR SPEARED BOTH OF THEM THROUGH THE BARRICADE!

The crowd supports the carnage they’ve witnessed. Conor lays beside Scottywood in a daze while the 39% owner of HOW draws some blood from the back of his head. Replays show the reckless nature of the spear put Conor’s head into the barricade at the same time as Scotty’s back, likely doing serious damage to both men. Meanwhile, medical staff race down to ringside in an attempt to see what status both men are in.

Joe Hoffman: Thankfully we have help out here!

Somehow… Conor pulls himself up. He’s seething from the mouth, looking down at the man he’s laid into. It’s clear Fuse wants to inflict more violence but he’s unsteady on his feet… and medics are everywhere, blocking his path. The Vintage starts shouting in the direction of Scotty.

Conor Fuse: It’s time I made a SERIOUS statement in this company. Thank you for the push off the ledge, Scottywood. I owe you one… I owe you one… I OWE YOU ONE!!! BWAHAHAHAHA!

The Vintage maddingly giggles to himself as he wobbles away from the scene.

Benny Newell: Such a CHEAP attack by Conor! He will PAY for what he’s done! Fight like a man, my ass!

Joe Hoffman: Are you kidding me? Conor did what anyone would… or should have… he’s standing up for himself!

The scene ends as Fuse realizes there’s some of Scotty’s blood on his hands. The Vintage wipes it onto his own chest… with a smile on his face.

Conor Fuse: Oh… this is fun…

The action cuts elsewhere as Fuse continues to smile….

Immediately following the match between High Flyer and Scottywood, we are taken backstage to an area of the arena. This is usually the place where any promos go to die but for this particular one, it was going to be different. That’s because the camera pans over and we see Brian Hollywood come into full view. He just stands there for a few moments and doesn’t say a word. No Darin Matthews and no HOW Tag Team Championship. No backstage interviewer….just Hollywood. Hollywood hangs in head for a moment before pulling it back up. He already sees the writing on the wall here….it’s like he’s seen it for some time. Hollywood slowly nods his head, though, as he finally speaks.

Brian Hollywood: You know…I’ve been in HOW for a very long time and one thing I have always learned to recognize and catch onto are the trends. Trends can be many things..but they are always there. But there’s been another trend to pop up recently in the land of High Octane and that’s what I’m going to be talking about tonight.

Hollywood pauses again as he strokes his beard. You could tell there was something eating away at him and he was bothered and not very well placed about it. He looks down again briefly before looking back up again.

Brian Hollywood: When HOW opened its doors back up, I thought I would reclaim what my legacy in HOW was all about…the HOW World Championship. But I came up just short of that goal against Halitosis in the finals. Then, what followed, was a downward spiral. I never understood why. The only thing I got was a series of losing matches and a damaging reputation. Here, a man who dominated in 2016, now a man who looks like he hasn’t been relevant in several years. A guy who is washed up and doesn’t have what it takes anymore. I was hearing all those things and it nearly destroyed me. I think that’s why I hit the reset button my wrestling career in HOW. It needed to be done and now I’ve found something special in it.

You could clearly here the level of disappointment in Hollywood’s voice. At the same time, he was clearly conflicted and it was that conflict we were used to seeing with Hollywood and that conflict always begged the question…what was Hollywood going to do next?

Brian Hollywood: The truth is I feel like I’ve been wasting my time…AGAIN! Quite frankly I’m fucking tired of it! But this next part is probably going to shock me more than it’ll shock all of you and the truth of the matter is……

Hollywood takes a short pause and lets out a sigh. What he was about to reveal was painful at heart but more importantly, it was about his dignity as a HOW wrestler. It’s something Hollywood never liked to admit about himself but it was time to address the elephant in the room.

Brian Hollywood: I’ve FAILED!!! I’ve failed at literally everything possible and quite frankly, it pisses me the fuck off! I hate to admit that…but let’s just call it as I see it. This has been the year of hell for yours truly, Mr. Executive himself, Brian Hollywood, and we are almost done with this year. I will be damned if I not only end it on a good note, but start off the year of 2021 with a fucking bang. But before that, I have to acknowledge that there are some things that I just need to drop altogether. Trim the proverbial fat, per say. And that’s why I’m going to take this recent momentum and use it as a catalyst moving forward.

Brian Hollywood: You see, I went through a transformation and in that light of discovering more secrets to wrestling, I used it to better myself. The last singles match I lost was against Mike Best on the USS Octane and since then, I’ve rediscovered my true calling in HOW. I thought I had it all figured out in my recent outing against The Best Alliance, but even in the end, I lost the HOW Tag Team Championships. While it may be that I was never pinned in that match, John Sektor knew exactly what he was doing and he capitalized on taking down Matthews and securing the HOW Tag Team Championships with Jatt Starr. Of course, Sektor took the matter in his own hands by himself and maybe that’s a message I should have gotten louder.

Hollywood pauses again as he can still feel the sting of defeat, even if he wasn’t involved in the pin. Hollywood knew the Alliance better than anyone, and yet, he still felt that chilling cold of defeat tapping him on the shoulders. This ignites Hollywood further as he reveals more about his current state.

Brian Hollywood: You see, this is the part where I would normally not take the credit for my losses and just pawn them off somewhere else. That was a fucking MISTAKE! This time I OWN that loss and it was an eye opener more than it was a loss. The fact of the matter is I’m done letting my old choices define my fate here in High Octane Wrestling. I used to be in charge of my fate here in HOW and it led me to the very top of HOW back in 2016. The truth is it’s time to return to those old roots. It helped shape my dominance in High Octane Wrestling and it’s something I take seriously. That’s why there’s going to be some changes around here. I’m done laying down in that ring! I’m done being the one having to suffer based on my relationship with others. I’ve always been a lone wolf here in HOW and because I shaped that up to be what it is, it has constantly provided results for me…it’s about fucking time that I turn back to what made me strong, a force to be reckoned with!

Hollywood cracks his head from side to side as he closes his eyes and let’s the words he just spoke seep through his veins. He was done with the bullshit and he was done doing things for people that came at the expense of himself.

Brian Hollywood: It’s high time that I really make the tough choices again and I’ve got one here tonight. If people really want to see what kind of a fucking dominator I can be, that STARTS with ME! No more bullshit and shenanigans! No more putting my faith in others. From now on….I put my faith in ME! I don’t need anyone else to fucking do it for me! So I’m here to put all of fucking HOW on NOTICE! Yea, I get it we’ve heard this from Hollywood before, blah, blah fucking blah! And that’s why I’m putting that out there because I’m not going to change who the fuck I am! That’s one Danger Zone or Executive Promise kick away from your teeth being sent down all your fucking throats. But you wouldn’t be lying, you’ve heard it before and I will be the first to admit you all aren’t wrong. It’s just what I’m going to do next…which speaking of which…

Hollywood pauses again as he lets out a sigh. He had some hard decisions to make moving forward, and he wasn’t sure what the future held for him in HOW. All he had known was that SOMETHING had to change and you could see it in his eyes. It was a combination of the jaws of failure and the man he was at the pinnacle top of his career back in 2016. And with that…he just let it all out without a care in the fucking free world.

Brian Hollywood: Screw the HOW Tag Team Championships! I have other ways of getting to the Best Alliance! It’s not even about The Best Alliance, though, either. It has always seemed when I try and put my faith in anyone, it comes back and bites me in the fucking ass. So I’m done letting those poor life choices define me and what I know I’m capable of doing as a dominant in ring singles competitor! So I’m going to continue on my path like a failed Hollywood Mansion promo and change my fate in HOW once again…only this time, fate will be chasing my shadow again!

Brian Hollywood: So what does this mean for Brian Hollywood moving forward? I don’t know…but I’m changing the game around here starting with my plans in HOW. What will Hollywood do next, you ask? I am sure that I’m not sure in any capacity. All I know is there’s about to be a pile of bodies laying in my wake! You all really want to know what I’m planning next?

Hollywood pauses one final time as he lets the question to every one in the locker room sink in for a few moments. He secretly knew that not one of them gave a shit to care. So Hollywood was going to give them a reason to fucking care! Hollywood lets out a devious smile…a smile we’re all too familiar with as he takes one final look into the camera.

Brian Hollywood: Go fuck yourselves….ALL OF YOU! What I do next is nobody’s business other than my own! I just feel sorry for the poor son of a bitch who steps in front of me next!…oh wait, no I don’t! You all can collectively FUCK OFF!! It’s time to do things MY way again….just as fate intended it to be!

What Hollywood’s next move was anyone’s guess as he indicated not only that it would be something big, but that Hollywood was out to change the very landscape of HOW and going into business with himself once again as he walks down the hallway as his future plans in HOW were up in the air as Refueled goes to commercial.

Back live and we enter through the door and find ourselves in the dressing room of LSD Proud Fighting Champion: Hughie Freeman. The HOW Resident Pikey has a steely focus about him as he sits on a chair back-to-front getting his hands wrapped. There is a figure preparing his fists and his back is turned to us. The tracksuit trainers top he dons has ‘John’ printed on the back of it.

Joe Hoffman: Wait a minute.. that’s got to be Big John Freeman!

Hughie then stands up and puts a fist into his palm.

Hughie Freeman: Aye, that’s grand.

Freeman notices the camera but that does not change his outlook or mannerisms in any way. He casually warms up and throws random air punches. Meanwhile, Big John Freeman turns to greet HOW.

John Freeman: Who’s calling the shots around here then?

John looks beyond the camera.

John Freeman: Listen, I don’t give a fat rat’s arse. You play the music or the fight is off you bunch of political bastards.

Hughie then notices his father getting slightly vexed.

Hughie Freeman: Dad man, just leave it.

John Freeman: All us Freeman’s want is a fair fight man. Lyndsey will play her part, but this is the main event. Do the honest thing and give us what we want.

Hughie allows his dad to control the interview as he throws shots facing the camera this time.

John Freeman: All of this contrived silly gimmick shite needs to stop, lads. That loss against Harrison wouldn’t have happened if my lad Hughie could go out there and just be himself. But you’re robbing him of what he deserves. A fair fighting chance, that’s all.

John looks dismayed as he has his hands on his hips.

John Freeman: Now play that music or the whole power to Refueled XLV gets cut!

Big John pulls out a pair of cable cutters from his tracksuit pocket and smiles, sinisterly. This also causes Hughie to smirk and shake his head in disbelief as we cut back to ringside.

Joe Hoffman: Ok folks welcome back. Gotta wonder how Hughie is going to perform tonight in defense of his LSD Championship after what we just saw….but for now its time for Cancer Jiles and Hollywood to lock horns.

Benny Newell: Blah, blah, blah! Can we get this next match over with? I hate both these guys! It’s a former Egg sucker versus the man who formerly had a backbone and just lost one half of the HOW Tag Team Championships. You damn well know I’m chucking at least one bottle of Jack Daniels before this match even starts.

Benny pops open his bottle of Jack Daniels as the lights dim and the arena quiets.

Bryan McVay: The following contest is a singles match scheduled for one fall introducing first….

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

Bryan McVay: From Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, please welcome COOOOOOOOL CAAAAAAANCER JIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIILES!

Joe Hoffman: Jiles has been on a hot streak as of late since he won the LSD Championship and freed himself up from the Egg Bandits. Sure, he’s had his ups and downs, but tonight Jiles is fired up and ready to prove he’s a future contender for the LSD Championship once again. He’s prepping for his match against his former tag team partner at ICONIC in Doozer and what a great opponent Jiles has in Brian Hollywood tonight. One of the toughest HOW contenders to date. Hollywood’s been on a roll since he lost to Mike Best. He’s beaten numerous members of the Best Alliance. Hollywood’s held Tag Team gold himself and he’s looking to make an impact tonight.

Benny Newell continues to chug down his bottle of Jack Daniels as “Stronger on Your Own” by Disturbed blares over the PA system. Instead of emerging from the back like usual; Brian Hollywood enters from one of the sides of the Best Arena and walks down through the crowd of fans; giving them high fives. Rather than smiling and acting goofy like he has with Darin Mathews the last few weeks; Brian Hollywood looks rather focused as he jumps over the barricade and interacts with the HOW fans.

Bryan McVay: And introducing his opponent from Los Angeles, California, please welcome BRIIIIIIIIIIAN HOOOOOOOOLLLLLLLLLYWOOD!

Joe Hoffman: Different strategy from Brian Hollywood tonight. He’s getting energy from the only group of people he can trust in HOW: the fans. He’s…

SMAAAASH!

Benny Newell chucks a bottle of Jack Daniels straight at Brian Hollywood it lands right at his feet. Brian glares at Benny as he stands right up and taunts him.

Benny Newell: Yeah! Give me that look you traitor! Lee Best gave you the best years of your life when you ran the Best Alliance. How dare you betray the hand that feeds you, you pompous cunt! It’s no wonder you lost to John Sektor and Jatt Starr last week. Continue to bite the hand that fed you. It allowed you to win the HOW World Championship.

Joe Hoffman: Strong words from my broadcast collogue tonight.

Benny Newell: It’s true! Hollywood wouldn’t have had a career without Lee Best. How dare he talk bad about the Alliance. Especially after what happened last week.

Joe Hoffman: Brian’s trying to make an honest living now. He’s trying to rise above his past image and that’s why the fans are behind him. They appreciate his vulnerability and honesty.

Benny Newell: Who gives a shit about that when you could have all the riches in the God Damn world under Lee Best. I hope this moppy haired cunt loses tonight.

Brian jumps in the ring and up on the turnbuckle. Je raises his hands, looking confident before jumping off the turnbuckle and connecting eyes. Boettcher stands in the ring as both men extend their hands out towards one another after their tag wars and shake hands. They both nod knowing this match is about to get dirty regardless if they’re on opposite sides of the ring. Boettcher calls for the bell and the match is underway.

DING! DING! DING!

Jiles doesn’t waste any time and starts chopping straight at Brian Hollywood’s chest unrelenting. He pushes Hollywood straight into the corner as he continues to chop before Boettcher starts to count to ten. As Boettcher pulls Jiles from out of the corner, Hollywood charges straight at Jiles. Jiles connects to Hollywood’s throat with a massive throat punch, brining Hollywood down to his knees. Jiles spikes Brian’s head straight down to the mat with a vicious looking DDT right on the mat.

Joe Hoffman: OUCH! Jiles is already focusing on Brian’s injured head over the last few weeks. Smart play by the former LSD Champion tonight taking on a former HOW World Champion.

Benny Newell: I’ll give this egg sucking nitwit some credit. He’s playing by the HOW play book. It doesn’t matter if you have respect for your opponent. It’s always about getting the win in HOW. Rather the fans love you or not, you must care about your own career. I don’t need to like him to respect that move, Hoffhole.

Jiles leaps up to his feet and nails a moonsault right in the middle of Hollywood’s abdomen. He connects with a cover as Boettcher counts.

ONE!

Hollywood immediately kicks out and pushes Jiles off his chest. Hollywood extends his legs straight in the air to attempt a kip up, but as he on his feet, Jiles sneaks in a stiff low blow right on Brian Hollywood’s groin bringing him back down to the mat. Jiles starts nailing blow after blow on the former HOW Champion’s face for a few moments before Boettcher pulls him off and checks on Brian Hollywood. But Hollywood refuses to quit. As tensions blow, Jiles doesn’t hold back and drops his knee straight to Hollywood’s face as Boettcher pulls away. Hollywood crawls towards the ropes and distances himself from Jiles. Hungrier for a win than ever, Jiles rolls towards the outside, grabs Hollywood and chucks him straight into the steel steps. Jiles quickly pulls Hollywood back up to his feet and nails a Back Suplex on him, leaving him on the outside as Boettcher continues to count.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

Benny Newell: God damnit, Jiles is putting down unlike any of his opponents beforehand.

Joe Hoffman: It’s that anger rumbling through him. He’s lost his LSD Championship, his best friend and tag team partner, and it’s changed him, Benny. Jiles is putting on a clinic tonight. He desperately needs this momentum going into ICONIC for his match against Doozer.

FOUR!

Hollywood pulls himself back to his base and looks at Jiles rather pissed. As he rolls back into the ring, Jiles straight landing kick after kick on Brian Hollywood’s gut. But the pain only fuels Brian. He pulls himself back to his base and grapples Jiles. As Hollywood tries to suplex Jiles, Jiles slithers down behind Hollywood and distances himself. He attempts to nail the Terminal Cancer on Brian Hollywood, but…

WHOOSH!

Benny Newell: Hollywood catches Jiles’ foot!!!! And he’s wagging his finger!

Joe Hoffman: Oh shit! I know that look in the former HOW Champion’s eyes.

Benny Newell: What? He just shat the bed uncontrollably like his best friend Darin Matthews does?

Joe Hoffman: You’ve forgotten! Jiles and Hollywood have similar finishing maneuvers. This is a case of Hollywood knowing Jiles’ playbook. He’s pointing at his brain.

Benny Newell: It’s only pissed off Jiles!!!!

Jiles gouges Hollywood straight in the eyes. Jiles grabs Hollywood by his hair and slams him straight down to the mat headfirst. This enrages Hollywood who pulls himself back up. Jiles attempts to nail a Jaw Breaker on Hollywood, but Hollywood tosses Jiles off. Hollywood hobbles around blindly trying to make sure he catches Jiles. As Jiles tries to grab Hollywood again, Hollywood doesn’t hesitate and nails a stiff Belly to Belly Suplex on Jiles launching him over his head. Hollywood falls back in the corner holding his eyes for a moment, trying to regain his sight. Jiles wastes no time charging at Hollywood with a stiff clothesline, but Hollywood hears Jiles stomping towards him furiously and slides down. Jiles’ head connects with the turnbuckle. Hollywood shakes his head one more time and powers through the pain in his eye and the limited vision, constantly blinking. He begins stomping a mudhole straight into Jiles face in the turnbuckle. Boettcher begins the count.

ONE!

TWO!

Hollywood pulls back as Jiles’ face turns a bright red. Jiles charges at Hollywood with another DDT attempt, but Hollywood stops it. He gains control and hits a picture-perfect Belly to Belly Suplex on Jiles. Hollywood’s had enough with Jiles. He yanks him off the mat and picks him up into Powerbomb position. He runs with Jiles and hits a beautiful buckle bomb dropping Jiles straight on his neck. Hollywood’s smile has faded from his face. He rushes and nails a drop kick straight into Jiles face as he starts to pound on his chest.

Joe Hoffman: Hollywood’s about to go to the Danger Zone. He’s signaling it right now. With Jiles dazed and confused, there’s no way! No way Jiles survives this!

SPLAT!

Benny Newell: HAHAHA! I should have bet your ass money, Hoffhole. Jiles ducks out and Hollywood’s leg connects with the turnbuckle. Now look at Jiles, he’s more desperate than ever. He’s getting that yellow mist of his ready. The Coolympian YOLJK! By God is it disgusting, but if he yolks Hollywood! That’s it! He’s blinded! He’s done for!

Jiles starts swirling around the mist in his mouth with his eyes widening. This is it! It’s his chance to prove the world wrong! He rushes towards Hollywood as he’s slowly preparing it. He extends his head forward readying to spit and…

WHAM!

SPPPPPPPEEEEEWWW!!!

Joe Hoffman: Holy cow!!!!

Benny Newell: Don’t you use Bestie’s name in vein you bastard!

Joe Hoffman: Hollywood with a desperate roundhouse kick straight to Jiles neck and the yolk erupts upward.

Hollywood’s eyes intensify and he slams his feet straight down on the mat with authority signing the papers. He pulls back and nails the Executive Promise kick on Jiles as he’s coming back up to his feet. Hollywood then wastes no time in picking up Jiles lifeless body and nailing the Basic Instinct and driving Jiles’ head straight into the mat with force. He puts his weight down on Jiles’ chest and lifts the leg as Boettcher makes the count.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

DING DING DING DING!

Bryan McVay: Here is your winner of the match: BRIIIIIIIIIIAN HOLLLYWOOD.

Boettcher goes to raise Hollywood’s hand, but Hollywood pulls his hand away and celebrates a hard-fought victory. He looks towards Benny Newell’s direction and defiantly flips Benny Newell the bird sending a message to The Best Alliance personal messenger as he slides the ring and heads up the ramp.

Benny Newell: Fuck you too, you worthless fuck stick! You got lucky!

Joe Hoffman: Message sent and received by Brian Hollywood with Authority as he chalks up yet another singles win since losing to Mike Best. What’s Hollywood’s next steps after this?

Benny Newell: Dying at Lee’s hands if he continues this shit up, Hoffhole!

Joe Hoffman: Whatever it is, Hollywood is proving that he’s not ready to back down against Lee Best.

Hollywood nods at Jiles as he slowly gets to his feet as a sign of respect and heads to the back as the scene fades to black.

Joe Hoffman: All right.  Welcome back to Refueled.  We are just a few minutes away from our main event as Lindsay Troy challenges Hughie Freeman for the LSD title…

HOTv suddenly cuts away from the Hall of Fame broadcasting duo- much to Hoffman’s surprise.

Joe Hoffman: …and now what’s going on?

The High Octane Vision comes on and zooms in on Section 214.

Joe Hoffman: Last week, our cameras focused in on someone in Section 214 resembling former two time HOW World Champion Joe Bergman.  

Benny Newell: It was no one.

Joe Hoffman: He tore up a picture of Steve Solex and mouthed ‘soon.’

Benny Newell: It was just some ordinary person, Hoffman.  A loser fan trying to get his fifteen seconds of attention.

The camera again zooms in on someone.  As with last week, the person wears a gray hoodie, a pair of sunglasses, and has a full beard.   

Again, he reaches into a pocket and pulls out a picture.   

Joe Hoffman: Benny, that’s the same guy from last week.

Again, the guy holds up the photo.  

Benny Newell: No it’s not.

Joe Hoffman: Yes it is.  See?

Again, the picture is of Steve Solex in his World’s #1 Dad gimmick.

Benny Newell: Bah!  It’s a copycat.  

The person next to the guy in the hoodie suddenly snatches the photo away.  It’s a familiar looking female who looks up and gazes right into the camera.  

Joe Hoffman: THAT’S BARBIE-Q! 

Benny Newell: Fuck…

Joe Hoffman: Barbie-Q is here.  Remember, several weeks ago Solex turned on Barbie Q and Section 214.  If that’s Barbie-Q, then the guy next to her has to be-

Benny Newell: No.  He can’t be-…

The guy next to Barbie finally pulls the hoodie back and shows his complete face.  

Joe Hoffman: …IT IS!  I’S JOE BERGMAN!  

Cue the requisite crowd pop at the return of ‘Ordinary’ Joe Bergman to HOW.

Benny Newell: …oh shit.  

Barbie smiles and slowly tears the photo of Solex in half.  

Benny Newell: I don’t care how good she looks or how well she cooks, that bitch is going to pay for completely disrespecting a great man like Steve Solex.

Joe Hoffman: Because Solex hasn’t been disrespecting Joe Bergman the past few weeks and then attacked Barbie-Q and former LSD champion Dawn McGill-

Benny Newell: Fuck em’ Joe.  Steve Solex is the man.

The camera zooms in on Bergman.  

Bergman holds up a can of Pabst Blue Ribbon beer.  He nods his head and looks right at the camera. 

Joe Bergman (mouthing): Soon…

Joe leans his head back and guzzles it all down.  Then he looks back at the camera.  

Joe Bergman (mouthing): …real soon. 

Bergman crumples the can in his hand just as we move on to the next segment.

The show feed jumps to a familiar haunt.

The eGG Basket.

Once known to be full of life, spirit, and more importantly– people, the eGG Basket is now occupied by only one. Its lone occupant is a defeated, exhausted, rotten egg of a man, and he is currently sitting hunched over with his elbows firmly dug into his knees, and his face resting inside the palms of his hands.

Suddenly, amongst the macabre silence occupying him and the space, a knock is heard.

Jiles: Go away.

Again, the knock.

Jiles: Go away.

AGAIN, the knock. This time it is much louder, and more thunderous.

Jiles: There’s no food in here, Bobby, so stop exhaling your belly against the door and go away.

KNOCK. KNOCK.

Jiles: Okay. Fine. You win. I’m standing up now, Mongo. I’m quickly shuffling my feet over towards the door, Mongo, and you better hope you’re still not standing there when I open it, Mongo.

Ironically enough, Jiles said all of that and still he is yet to get up from his seat.

KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK!!!!!!!

Jiles: Fuck this. I warned you. I am no–

KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK!!!!!!!

The spurn of defeat escapes the Maestro’s morose body, and in its place a perturbed rage has moved in. He quickly springs up from his seat, causing the chair to shoot backwards and topple over a gym bag laying on the floor behind him. Then, without a moment’s hesitation he lunges for the door ready to rip it from off its hinges.

He does such.

Open, not rip off.

And when Jiles does, much to his chagrin no one is standing there. He gingerly peaks his head out and looks down the hallway to his left, and then to the right, and then up at the ceiling because you can never be too sure.

No one.

He smiles wide and closes the door, as if he knew there would be no one there. He turns around, and goes to take a step towards his fallen chair to continue with whatever it was he was doing.

KNOCK. KNOCK.

Cut elsewhere….

Steve Solex is shown running through the backstage area. The camera shakes erratically as the camera man tries to keep up. Solex makes his way out into the arena. The sign “Section 214” is visible on camera, but the section is vacant.

Steve Solex: ​Son of a bitch…

Solex looks down and sees the crushed can of PBR. He picks it up and looks it over.

Steve Solex: ​Fuckin’ guy just disappeared.

He punts the can into the crowd.

Steve Solex: ​I’ll find him…

The scene fades to commercial.

We are back live and it is time for the Main Event of the evening as we cut to the Ring Announcer.

Brian McVay: Please welcome, our special guest commentator, Steve Solex!

“This Means War” by Avenged Sevenfold plays throughout the arena as Steve Solex makes his way out onto the entrance ramp from behind the curtain.

Joe Hoffman: What in the…

Benny Newell: Oh my God, this is GREAT!

The crowd boos wildly as Solex marches down the ramp, with Zeb Martin unconscious and tied down in a wheelchair. Steve Solex runs and jumps onto the back of the wheelchair, like some kid in the grocery store pushing the cart when his parents are paying attention.

Benny Newell: Zeb Martin must have requested to come out and join us as well. Look at Steve Solex, still living up to that number 1 dad moniker!

Joe Hoffman: This is the worst thing I’ve seen tonight.

Benny Newell: Worst thing you’ve seen tonight, so far.

Solex takes the ride all the way down the entrance ramp, and around the ring to the commentator position. He takes a seat next to Benny Newell, and fastens his headset. He grabs an extra headset and haphazardly places it on Zeb’s head.

Benny Newell: It’s so great to have you out here with us Steve!

Steve Solex: Benny, the pleasure is all Zeb’s. This young man has motivated me here tonight and I’m just here to share it with all of you!

Solex points into the camera and puts on his best anchorman voice.

Steve Solex: Let’s go to the ring!

A cheesy smile stretches across Solex’s face as the switch is made to Brian McVay in the ring.

Brian McVay: This match is scheduled for one-fall, and is for the L-S-D Championship! Already in the ring, she is the challenger! From Tampa, Florida. She weighs in at one-hundred-ninety-five pounds and stands at six-feet-three-inches tall! LINNNNNNNNDDDDDDSSSSSSSAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYY TRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOYYYYYY!

‘Sweet Caroline’ by Neil Diamond hits! Big John Freeman gets his request! The Best Arena ruptures into total hysteria. They’ve seen the 2006 phone footage doing the rounds on all the socials and it’s like they’re trying to capture that same moment. The majority that know the words sing along as the rest wait for the chorus. Meanwhile, Hughie Freeman comes onto the scene from behind the curtain with gleeful appreciation.

Joe Hoffman: The LSD Champion, Hughie Freeman making his way down to the ring for his title defense against Lindsay Troy.

Brian McVay: And the champion! He stands five-feet-eleven inches and tips the scale at two-hundred-fifteen pounds! He is the L-S-D-Champion. This is HUUUUUUUUUUUUUGHIIIIIIIEEEEEEEE FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEMMMMMMAAAAAAAANNNNNNNN!!!!!

The LSD Proud Fighting Champion (with title around waist) slowly walks down to the ring with his arms stretched out wide; touching the fingertips of the fans. Once Freeman hoists himself up on the apron (crowd side) the voice of Neil is overpowered by the fans reaction. Lindsay Troy vacates the ring as Freeman slides in under the bottom rope, heads for the furthest turnbuckle and climbs it. The chorus blasts with a real party atmosphere; everyone singing, with Hughie placing up a solid fist in acknowledgement. He jumps off the turnbuckle and loosens off. Also, shadow boxing.

The crowd immediately jumps to their feet, and out from the curtain steps Lee Best led by his “seeing eye dog.” Outfitted with a proper 97Red color and tag, her hair hangs down over her face as she crawls on all fours out onto the entrance ramp, dragging Lee along behind her. Lee holds a firm grip on the leash however, and any time his “helper” gets too far ahead, Lee yanks her back like some kind of untrained mut. Lee waves aimlessly at the booing audience with the hand pose of some kind of royalty as he slowly makes his way out to the ring.

Joe Hoffman: What is Lee Best doing out here?

Benny Newell: He’s the owner of the company, Hoffnips! He can be anywhere the fuck he wants!

Lindsay Troy and Hughie Freeman look more confused than anyone in the building as they watch the Emperor of 97Red make his way to the ringside area. His “seeing eye dog” pulls him around the ring and to the timekeepers table. Immediately, Steve Solex jumps up from his commentary position, shoves Zeb Martin face first into the ground and darts over to Lee.

Joe Hoffman: Steve Solex is a vile human being, look at Zeb! Unbelievable!

Benny Newell: Shut the fuck up, Hoffhole!

With a hand on Lee’s shoulder, Solex leans in. Lee seemingly gives Solex some instructions to which Solex reacts with a sinister grin and a few head nods. Solex yanks a microphone from the timekeeper and prepares to speak by holding his two hands up, signaling for the music to die. The tech obliges, and the music is cut immediately, but the boos from the crowd remain a challenge for Solex.

Steve Solex: Alright, damnit! Lee Best is in the building, show some fuckin’ respect you goons!

As you’d expect, the boo’s only get louder. But suddenly the crowd goes silent.

Benny Newell: That’s respect, Hoffnuts!

Solex looks over his shoulder at Lee Best, who’s hand is raised high in the air calling for silence.

Steve Solex: That’s more like it! As I was saying. I have been informed by the GOD of HOW himself, Lee Best. That this match will have a special guest referee!

Joe Hoffman: He’s blind, Benny! Lee Best is blind! He cannot referee a match!

Benny Newell: But through GOD Hoffsack, all things are possible!

The crowd boo’s ferociously as it’s obvious that the scheming mind of Lee Best is up to no-good. Lindsay Troy and Hughie Freeman are completely speechless in the ring, as Solex points at referee Joel Hortega.

Steve Solex: Vamanos!

Solex shouts instructions for the referee to leave, accompanied by a shoo-ing hand gesture. Hortega wastes no time at all and bails from the ring as Troy and Freeman’s confusion grows. Solex tosses the microphone to the timekeeper as Undead begins to play in the arena once more. Solex leads Lee to the nearest ring post.

Joe Hoffman: Oh, what is this!?

Benny Newell: He’s tying up his dog, Hofftwat! What a responsible pet owner Lee Best is! A scheming magician who also owns a dog!

The crowd boos wildly at the sight of Lee Best anchoring a human being by a leash to a ring post. Solex reaches under the ring and pulls out a bowl of water. He places it in front of Lee’s “seeing eye dog.” Solex belly laughs like a character from an old sitcom as the crowd continues to unleash it’s fury of boos on the owner of HOW. Solex gets back to business and grabs Lee Best by the arm and leads him to the ring steps. Slowly, Lee marches up the steps and cautiously enters the ring through the second rope. Solex sprints back to the commentary booth and takes his position of third man on the mic once more. Solex scrambles to get Zeb Martin back onto his chair, and crudely outfits the unconscious Martin with a headset.

Steve Solex: Isn’t this amazing! Lee Best is going to give everyone here a lesson on how to be a fair, down the middle, and completely impartial referee!

Benny Newell: Just like you were last week, Steve.

Zeb Martin: You were the best, Steve-o!

Clearly that was not Zeb Martin, but Steve Solex doing his worst Jeff Dunham impression speaking from the side of his mouth and moving Zeb’s bottom lip with his thumb.

Steve Solex: You’ve got that right, Benny! And thanks a ton Zeb, I knew you’d come around! I just have to say, I’m a real-life veteran and war-hero. But Lee Best…(his voice cracks) Lee Best will always be the bravest man I’ve ever met.

Benny wipes a fake tear from his eye, as Joe Hoffman rolls his eyes so far in the back of his head that he nearly falls backward out of his chair.

Joe Hoffman: Lee Best, calling for the bell here.

The tone in Joe Hoffman’s voice is less than amused.

Joe Hoffman: Oh, come on!

Lee Best calls for the bell by leaning out over the top rope and pointing at the timekeeper. Only, he’s on the wrong side of the ring and is pointing up the ramp.

Joe Hoffman: This is a new low for Lee Best.

Benny Newell: Don’t bite the hand that feeds, Hofflips.

DING! DING! DING!

Lindsay Troy and Hughie Freeman circle on another as the match gets underway. They lock up in the center of the ring, and immediately Freeman takes the advantage with a side-headlock. Twisting and using his hip for leverage, Freeman spins LT to the ground, and cinches the headlock a bit tighter.

Joe Hoffman: Immediate advantage goes to Freeman, but Lindsay Troy reverses the hold with a head scissors!

Freeman kips up and out of the head scissors, landing on his feet. Troy quickly scrambles to her feet as well and the two stare one another down. A few fans in the audience cheer the action.

1!

…

Benny Newell: Lee Best makes the count!

Joe Hoffman: No ones made a cover!

The blind owner of HOW has drops to his hands and knees and started a three-count, on nobody.

2!

…

Benny Newell: Kicks out at the last second!

Lee Best’s right hand stops a literal centimeter away from the mat, stopping at the count of two.

Joe Hoffman: Who kicked out?!

Zeb Martin (Obviously Steve Solex): Joe.

Joe Hoffman: Joe? Joe who?

Zeb Martin (Obviously Steve Solex): Joe mama, you mangy fuck!

The frustration on both competitors faces is absolutely clear as they both watch Lee Best climb back to his feet. The action picks back up in the ring as Freeman and Troy once again lock horns in the center of the ring.

Steve Solex: Can we get the cameras on the announce team for just a second here, I have some breaking news!

The scene changes to a picture-in-picture format, with the wrestling action taking a backseat to the view of commentary by being positioned in the top right of the screen in a much smaller square. Steve Solex is the center focus of the scene, as he does his best impression of a serious man.

Steve Solex: Joe Bergman, ladies and gentleman…is missing.

Joe Hoffman: What are you talking about? What is this?

Steve Solex: I’ve been informed by my team that Ordinary Joe… has gone missing. It’s imperative, ladies and gentleman that we send our thoughts and prayers to the Bergman family.

Just then, the sound of alarms and vibration of everyone’s phones in attendance fills the arena as every one of those phone’s screens light up.

Joe Hoffman: You’ve got to be kidding me, you’ve sent out an Amber Alert?!

Steve Solex: No, I’ve sent out a 97Red Alert, to every HOW fan in this arena. Joe Bergman, ladies and gentleman…is missing.

The camera cuts back to the action in the ring as a news network style lower-third appears on the bottom of the screen. A marquee of text reading “Joe Bergman has gone missing” whips by on repeat. Lindsay Troy has backed Hughie up into the corner and lands a couple of stiff right hands to the side of Freeman’s head before whipping him across the ring. Troy charges in for a splash, but stops dead in her tracks…

1!

…

2!

Lee Best delivering a standing count this time, holds two hands high in the air with the count.

3!

Joe Hoffman: What is he doing now!?

Benny Newell: Isn’t it obvious, Hoffhole!? Hughie Freeman’s right foot is under the bottom rope, he’s out of the ring!

But that couldn’t be further from the truth, and that’s obviously not what a ring-out is.

4!

…

Lindsay Troy just folds her arms and stands still in the center of the ring, staring in disgust at Lee Best.

5!

…

Zeb Martin (Obviously Steve Solex): Freeman better get back in the ring, he’ll be counted out!

Steve Solex: Amazing insight Zeb! Keep up the good work, buddy!

…

6!

Freeman has fully recovered at this point, and he too just stares at Lee Best in disgust.

…

7!

…

Lee Best feigns the count of eight and then waves it off. He signals like “Big” John McCarthy for the match to continue.

Lee Best: Let’s get it on!

Joe Hoffman is clearly frustrated as he scoffs into his microphone.

Joe Hoffman: This is unreal.

Steve Solex: This is the best refereeing I’ve seen in ages. I hope our referee staff is in the back taking notes, Hoffman. They could learn a thing or two from Lee Best.

Troy and Freeman once again lock horns in the center of the ring. Freeman shoves Troy backward into the corner and lands a hard knife edge chop across Troy’s chest and neck. Immediately a welt forms, and Troy drops to a knee.

Zeb Martin (Obviously Steve Solex): Her natural position, Steve-er-ino!

Steve Solex: Not cool, Zeb. I can’t believe what a misogynist you’ve become!

Joe Hoffman: Jesus Christ.

Freeman grabs a hold of Troy by the wrist and whips her into the ropes. On return, Freeman drives her into the mat with a powerslam.

Joe Hoffman: Freeman plants Troy flat on her back in the center of the ring!

Zeb Martin (Obviously Steve Solex): Don’t let Mike Best see her flat on her back, Steve!

Steve Solex: Zeb Martin. You are incorrigible.

Joe Hoffman: Benny, you got any of that Jack laying around here?!

Benny Newell: Not for you, Hoffstick!

Zeb Martin (Obviously Steve Solex): DRINK!

Joe Hoffman: Freeman makes a cover!

…

…

…

…

…

…

Joe Hoffman: And of course, Lee Best doesn’t see the cover!

Steve Solex: Lindsay Troy’s shoulders are clearly off the mat, Hoffman! Get it together.

Zeb Martin (Obviously Steve Solex): Yeah, ya’ dumb bitch!

Steve Solex: Zeb Alan Martin.

Benny Newell: His middle name is Alan?

Steve Solex: I have no fucking idea.

Freeman is clearly irritated, and lets loose of Troy and gets to his feet. He clenches his teeth and makes a fist as he stares down Lee Best. Lee Best drops to the mat.

1!

….

2!

…

Benny Newell: Noooo! Lindsay Troy gets her shoulder up just in time!

Steve Solex: Lee Best is calling this one right down the middle folks! Can we bring the shot back to the commentary booth, I have an update on Joe Bergman.

The shot goes back to the commentary booth, with the ring again in the picture in picture small screen. Steve Solex is sitting there, a fake serious look on his face. Leaned on his shoulder is the still unconscious Zeb Martin. Benny Newell, using a sharpie, draws a large penis on Zeb Martin’s forehead. Solex can barely hold back the smirk.

Steve Solex: Joe Bergman is still missing, but I’ve got my colleague Zeb Martin on the case. He’s a regular Dick Tracy! Let’s get back to the action!

The scene cuts back to the ring.

The lights in the arena go dark.

UNDEAD begins to play in the arena again. Lee Best explodes with laughter as he points to the top of the entrance ramp. Lindsay Troy and Hughie Freeman both look up to the top of the ramp, and out from the curtain steps…

Benny Newell: EMBOSSER!

Joe Hoffman: That’s not Embosser! Embosser isn’t a black man!

Benny Newell: You’re right, Hoffslit! This guy is way bigger than Embosser!

The oversized, flat topped, ridiculously muscled man makes his way down to the ring. He steps up onto the apron, and over the top rope into the ring. Freeman and Troy back up against the far side ropes. Both competitors look at one another and nod, seemingly agreeing to team up against this monster of a man.

Joe Hoffman: This does not look good!

Benny Newell: This looks fucking fantastic, Hoffhole!

Both Freeman and Troy charge in at the big man, but Freeman is tripped to the mat!

Joe Hoffman: Steve Solex just grabbed a hold of Hughie Freeman’s foot and Freeman’s face planted into the mat.

Benny Newell: She’s dead! Lindsay Troy is dead!

She’s not dead, but she was just driven neck and head first into the mat with an insane powerbomb that sent shivers down the spine of everyone in the arena, including Lee Best. Steve Solex slides into the ring under the bottom rope, and tosses Lindsay Troy to the outside through the middle rope and scoots Freeman to the outside with his boot. Solex hands a microphone to Lee Best.

Lee Best: First off I just want to say Thank You to the Chicago crowd for all the Thoughts and Prayers tonight. Without you I am unsure of how I would have pulled thru this match tonight. I mean for me to come down here, the GOD of THE COMPANY, and put myself in harms way……..while BLIND……..I mean you guys get it……some of us are just build differently.

Solex, standing next to Lee, begins clapping and wipes a tear from his eye as Lee continues.

Lee Best: But let’s be honest here folks. These two fucknuts did not deserve to take up anymore of the time tonight. I mean we all know Linz dont really get active till 11:59pm…..am I right?

Lee and Solex share a laugh but no one else is laughing.

Lee Best: These two shit the bed tonight and even as I blind man I could see that.  That is why NEXT week they are going to do it all again….and this time it will be a I QUIT MATCH for the LSD Championship and I know I know…….Jatt and Sek wanted to defend the tag titles but I got a little something else planned for next week…..trust me gents…….sometimes we just gotta pivot.

The cameras then cut to the outside where Hughie is slowing making his up to the apron and as he does he is met with a running forearm from Solex that sends him crashing back down.

Lee Best: Sounds like someone got too close to the Danger Zone huh Steve?

Solex smirks as gives Lee a middle finger knowing full well Lee cannot see it, but still deserves it.

Lee Best: Finally I wanted to end tonight’s show with a big announcement but it deserves better……but I will give a little tease to end the show………

Lee pauses as he is legit rethinking everything he had planned for the night…….

Lee Best: After ICONIC ends on December 19th High Octane Wrestling will be taking a break. We will not be on the air for awhile……

Joe Hoffman: Shit.

Benny is speechless at the sound of a curseword coming from Joe’s mouth.

The Chicago crowd is booing loudly at the news. Lee puts his hand up and the crowd slowly quiets before he continues.

Lee Best: ………and we will be returning on January 9th with not Refueled. We will NOT be having a Lee Best Invitational in 2021…..nope instead things will be a little different around here……and those details will be shared very soon. For now…..thank you again for all the support and continue to keep the #PrayersForLee trending on twitter. I will continue to power thru all this and provide you with the number one wrestling show in the land…..Thank you!!

With that Lee drops the mic and with the help of Solex he makes his way to the corner, slowly exits the ring, unwinds the leash, and yanks hard on it.

The woman at the end of the leash falls down the ring steps and the crowd gasps as she hits the arena floor hard.

Lee tugs even harder on the leash and as he pulls her closer he grabs her collar and proceeds to smack the living shit out of his “dog”.

The crowd boos unmercifully as Refueled fades to black……but not before we get a close up of the collar on the woman……..and a set of initials on the collar.

TD