Refueled XLVI
  • Event Type: weekly

Refueled XLVI

Event Date: November 28, 2020 at 11:00 pm

#17 Darin Matthews vs. #18 Sutler Kael

The HOTv logo gives way and we cut inside the arena as we are kicking off this weeks show with inring action.

The lights in the arena dim as “The Man” by Aloe Blacc roars over the sound system. Cutting through the darkness a single pillar of pale light reigns down on the stage as Darin Matthews and Meredith are bathed in its pure light. Matthews has his back to the crowd as a #97red robe with a black collar, his arms held out at his sides. Stepping forward Meredith lifts a microphone to her lips, her eyes staring out over the noisy crowd.

Meredith: Introducing first: the man ailing from The Lake of the Ozarks, Missouri. Tonight he weighs in at a lean, mean 223 pounds. He is the man known as the Pinnacle of Pro-Wrestling, the Artiste of Atlantic City, the Messiah of Missouri Valley, your Tyrant of the Territories..

Behind her Darin lifts his hands into the air while taking in a deep breath.

Meredith: DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARIN MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATHREWS!

Spinning, Matthews throws his robe off before charging toward the ring. Meredith collects his robe and retreats back through the entrance as Darin dives into the ring. He climbs to the nearby turnbuckle, smirking as he receives a modest reaction from the crowd. 

The music ends as the arena lights black out once again. “Believer” by Solence screeches out over the sound system as the stage explodes with gouts of fire and silvery pyro, the loud booming of which is deafening. As the smoke clears Sutler Reynolds-Kael can be seen standing on stage with an arrogant look plastered on his youthful face. He lifts one hand into the air, his index and middle finger pointed skyward while he cuts his thumb across his neck with the other.

Bryan McVay: And his opponent.. From Chicago, Illinois.. Standing at 6’1’’ and weighing in at 187 lbs… SUTLER REYNOLDS-KAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAEL!

As the same with last week the arena is filled with piped in cheering and the chanting of Sutler’s name, a reaction that is once again met with negativity from the live crowd. Brushing his black and #97red hair out of his face Sutler pops the collar of his leather jacket and swaggers toward the ring, his stormy dark eyes locked on Darin Matthews as he slowly makes his approach. 

Joe Hoffman: Ladies and Gentlemen welcome to High Octane Wrestling Presents REFUELED XLVI!

Benny Newell: DRINK!

Joe Hoffman: I’m Joe Hoffman, this is my legendary co-commentator, the incomparable “Big Buff” Benny Newell!

Benny Newell: If you’re not drunk or high this show will suck!

Joe Hoffman: That absolutely is not true, folks! And as you can see we are starting tonight out leading right into action as we have Darin Matthews, the veteran, up against newcommer Sutler Reynolds-Kael in just his second professional wrestling match of his career!

Benny Newell: Yeah but if you count all of the wrestling experience of his whole family he actually has about six times as much experience!

Joe Hoffman: That’s not how that works, Benny..

Sutler slowly climbs into the ring while giving Matthews a sideways and suspicious look. As he does referee Matt Boettcher is quick to check the young wrestler over. His music ends as the house lights come back up before Boettcher signals for the bell.

DING-DING-DING!

Joe Hoffman: Sutler has made it clear he wants to start climbing those rankings which means, regardless of his pyro and whatever other benefits his family might have provided him, he’s gonna have to do it the hard way.

Benny Newell: Or the easy way, there is no way Matthews is putting up a fight tonight against the Son of Max Kael!

Joe Hoffman: Lineage doesn’t replace experience, Benny.

Both Matthews and Reynolds-Kael circle each other, the younger Sutler moving just a little faster though Darin seems much more grounded in his approach. Both men tie up as Darin powers the smaller Sutler into the corner before making a clean break. As Darin takes a step back Sutler jumps forward..

CRACK!

Reynolds-Kael sends a sharp chop hard across Darin’s chest.

CRACK!

Matthews returns fire lighting up Sutler’s pale chest with a bright red mark as he is driven down to the mat. Darin quickly drops down for a pin!

Joe Hoffman: Looks like Sutler got the worse end of that exchange as he underestimated the striking power of Darin Matthews!

Benny Newell: Hit harder, Sutler! Don’t be a pussy! DRINK!

ONE!

TW-kickout!

Sutler throws his arm up though Darin simply floats around applying a rear chinlock. Keeping the faster man grounded Darin sticks to a simple ground and pound strategy, driving his knees and elbows into his opponent’s exposed ribs and kidneys. Pulling Sutler to his feet and whips him into the ropes before connecting with a T-Bone suplex.

Joe Hoffman: Darin taking Sutler to the proverbial woodshed right now.

Benny Newell: Stop using cliches, Hoffman, we get it!

He once again hooks the leg looking for a quick pinfall.

ONE!

TWO!

 

Kickout!

Joe Hoffman: The fight is going out of Sutler Reynolds-Kael, Benny!

Benny Newell: Don’t be a stupid loser like your biological dad, Sutler! Be a winner like your dead adopted dad!

Joe Hoffman: Do you even hear what you say?

While Sutler is able to kick out it is noticeably slower than his previous one. Darin senses his opponent already beginning to fade as he keeps up his offensive though he takes his time maintaining a pace that best suits him. A Fallaway Suplex is followed up by a Double X-Wrist Lock Suplex that he releases, pulling Sutler up once more. Using pure core power Matthews hoists Sutler up into a deadlift German Suplex, bridging in for the cover..

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THR-KICKOUT!

 

Joe Hoffman: So close! Matthews almost walked out of here with a victory over the son of Max Kael!

Benny Newell: But he didn’t so who cares?! GET UP SUTLER, MAKE GRANDPA PROUD!

Twisting his body Sutler is able to wriggle free of the German Suplex much to Darin’s surprise. Matthew’s turns his ire toward Boettcher arguing for the three count before returning his attention to the rookie. Reaching down he grabs a handful of Sutler’s hair pulling him up..

SMALL PACKAGE!

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THREE!

Benny Newell: He wins! He wins!

Joe Hoffman: No! No he didn’t! 

No! No kickout! Darin clamours to his feet, surprise and embarrassment on his face from nearly losing to a small package. He turns right into a drop kick to his jaw sending him crashing down to the mat! Using the momentum Sutler heads into the ropes and flies back toward Darin connecting with a running knee to Darin’s jaw leaving him sprawled out in the ring. 

Taking a moment to catch his breath Sutler looks down at Darin and then toward the top turnbuckle. He quickly scrambles to the top rope, sizing up his downed opponent as he measures the distance and launches himself!

Joe Hoffman: He’s up in that high rent district, taking a big risk!

Benny Newell: Kill him! KILL HIM SUTLER!

ELBOW DROP!

Sutler drives his elbow across Darin’s chest as he lands in a thunderous crash! Darin clutches his chest, rolling around the center of the ring as Sutler pulls himself up using the ropes, still feeling the effects of the multiple suplexes he took from Matthews. Sizing his opponent up, Sutler stumbles forward before launching himself toward his downed enemy. In a strange series of grambles Sutler seems to entangle Matthews up with his arms and legs before he locks in a leg Triangle Choke!

Benny Newell: TAP OUT! Time to give up Darin! TAP!

Joe Hoffman: He’s got it locked in but in terrible position, Benny! If Darin can get to the ropes then Sutler can not win this match this way!

Darin thrashes and kicks as he struggles against the hold. Realizing he can not break free the more experienced Matthews turns his body realizing Sutler has positioned him close enough to the ropes to get his foot over it. Boettcher notices and immediately instructs Sutler to break the hold!

Benny Newell: Break his neck, don’t break the hold!

Joe Hoffman: He’s got to release the damn hold! He can not win this match if he breaks Darin’s neck or fails to release at the five count! 

Sutler releases Darin, rolling away as he holds his arms up in the air thinking he has won the match. Boettcher attempts to explain to Sutler what has actually happened as Darin soaks up the short break to get oxygen moving through his lungs again. As the younger man realizes what has happened he turns into a kick to the midsection..

THE RATINGS SPIKE!

Joe Hoffman: He got him! He got him!

Benny Newell: FUCK! FUUUUCK!

Sutler’s body goes stiff, straight up and down in the air before it falling forward, collapsing on his back as his eyes stare up at the lights. Matthews signals for the Sixth Star as he yanks Sutler back up to his feet..

THE SIXTH STA-

Joe Hoffman: Wait! Sutler just slipped out of the hold and is spinning behind Darin..

THE SON OF SIN!

Sutler manages to use his quickness and size, countering out of the Sixth Star into his own variant of the spinning kamikaze! From there he once again locks on the Sutler Method however this time Matthews is locked in the center of the ring with nowhere to go and still stunned from the Son of Sin. 

Joe Hoffman: He has it locked in and in the center of the ring this time! Incredible countering at the end by Sutler, I have to admit it!

Benny Newell: TAP! TAP YOU SON OF A BITCH!

With no other options Matthews is forced to tap.

DING DING DING!

WINNER: SUTLER REYNOLDS-KAEL VIA SUBMISSION IN 10 MINUTES 23 SECONDS

Sutler releases the hold, clearly exhausted and spent from the match as he remains on his back in the center of the ring. Matthews is rolled away, checked on by Meredith as Sutler celebrates in the ring, albeit clearly worse for wear as the piped in cheering overshadows the boos.

Benny Newell: The Son of Scions is on a winning streak! 2 and 0 BABY!

Joe Hoffman: A hard fought victory for the rookie, Sutler Reynolds-Kael as he moves past Darin Matthews! 

The action cuts elsewhere..

Frosty Introduction

The camera cuts to backstage, where we find it following the newest addition to the High Octane roster, Hannibal Frost. His eyes are hidden behind a pair of silver-rimmed aviator shades, and a visual on him is skewed further still by the bullhide leather cowboy hat he’s wearing. A chocolate leather long-coat falls smoothly around an athletic, yet slightly high mileage, physique.
The camera pulls back to show Frost approaching the door to his new boss’s office. The plaque on the door reads LEE B. The “est” is seemingly obscured by the six foot ten inch bodyguard standing watch at the door. Arms crossed, the giant doesn’t move a muscle, but his eyes follow Frost’s every step.
Frost stops a few inches from the hulking mass of man, his eyeline just below the guard’s chin.
Frost: I need to speak with Mr. Best.
Still unmoving, the guard shakes his head before speaking.
Bodyguard: Mr. Best isn’t seeing anyone right now. If you’re new, everything you need is in the welcome basket.
Hannibal takes off his shades amidst an exasperated sigh, slipping them into a coat pocket. He then pulls out a small leaflet and matching opaque container.
Frost: No, I mean… I got the bottle of lube, and the pamphlet on different techniques for staying awake at the wheel of my rental car. What am I suppose to do with that?
There’s an awkward silence as the two eye each other suspiciously.
Bodyguard: Sir?
Frost: Yeah?
Bodyguard: What the hell are you talking about?
Hannibal’s nose and lips scrunch up in an apparent combination of confusion and embarrassment.
Frost: I think I’ve been ribbed.
Bodyguard: Well then you need to report that to the local authorities, sir.
Frost: No, ribbed, it’s like…
Trailing off mid sentence, Frost turns to see High Octane Hall of Famer and current member of the Best Alliance Jatt Starr, walking into frame and right into his conversation. The tag champ completely ignores Hannibal as he greets the security guard with a fist bump. The guard quickly opens the door to Lee Best’s office, letting him inside without a single word traded between them. As the door is being pulled shut, we hear Jatt’s voice from inside.
Starr: You see that out there? Another cowboy. It’s like you watched Urban Cowboy again…..Besty?!?
Hannibal’s eyes go wide as he gestures pointedly at the door.
Frost: Okay, what was that about? And a follow up question, what the hell?
Bodyguard: Sir, you can ask anybody anything you want… After. The. Show.
Hannibal opens his mouth to protest, but the guard silences him by gesturing firmly down the hall with one giant, meaty finger.
Bodyguard:  There are monitors in the locker rooms, sir. Feel free to watch the show from there.
Defeated, Hannibal turns away, his eyes scanning the direction the security guard pointed him in.
Frost: I think I might have a little trouble fitting in here.
The scene fades out as we cut back inside the arena.

Never Trust a Pikey

A disturbance in the Best Arena as sections of the fans react. The cameras are simply playing catch up.

Joe Hoffman: What is this?

The cameras suddenly pick up the footage of Big John Freeman entering the ring, unannounced. John rolls into the ring wearing a bright green training tracksuit. He immediately asks for a microphone, which he is denied.

John Freeman: I’ve had enough of this shite!

The cameras and the front-row can only faintly distinguish the words spoken by John Freeman. Everyone else remains clueless. Meanwhile, John immediately drops his tracksuit pants. This is greeted with cheers from the fans in attendance.

Joe Hoffman: HELLO!

Benny Newell: I thought a total eclipse was once every one hundred years.

John Freeman hovers over the ‘O’ on the printed HOW logo on the canvas. John then pinches the brim of his briefs.

John Freeman: You shite on the name Freeman and The Freeman’s shite on you!

The fans are hysterically entertained. John looks to get his own back on what he deems as the biggest disrespect shown to him from last week at the end of Refueled XLV.

Suddenly, ‘Sweet Caroline’ crashes the speakers and the fans go wild.

Benny Newell: Thank GOD!

Joe Hoffman: Not this time.

Hughie Freeman enters the fray and the crowd remain electric (perhaps more so). However, this is not your usual Freeman ring walk. The LSD Proud Fighting Champion does hold his belt with him but he’s decked out in the same training tracksuit as John, with jeans and heavy duty boots. Regardless, that does now stop the fans singing along with Neil Diamond.

Joe Hoffman: Listen to this crowd!

Hughie acknowledges the fans whilst pacing the canvas. He is then given a microphone.

Hughie Freeman: See Troy, plenty of mates.

An emphatic large outbreak from the masses with a chant: Freeman.

Hughie Freeman: But why is your man out here? You know you’d think your man would get stage fright being locked away for so long and never to be allowed to stand in this ring unsupervised. What with the burning incident, the Alcatraz art teacher incident, the RICK incident.. and all of the other HOW incidents you wonna pin on Hughie Freeman.

Benny Newell: It’s true what they say… never trust a pikey.

The Freeman chat builds momentum again.

Hughie Freeman: Cos there isn’t no outline or set of bullet points to keep The Fighting Irish being free to do whatever the fuck he wants.

.. We’re just not doing this.

The fans start to quieten not really knowing what is going on. Meanwhile, John Freeman doesn’t seem overly concerned with his pants down to his ankles.

Hughie Freeman: You shit on HOW.. you shit on them. You shit on HOW and you shit on this (holds up LSD title). My belt is never to be shat on and never are the HOW faithful who buy a ticket to watch your man spark somebody clean out.

The fans respond positively.

Hughie Freeman: Your man is not gunna throw the towel in and shite away all of the biggest fights in wrestling cos of Freeman family pride.

John looks puzzled.

Hughie Freeman: Lyndsay Troy, tonight is… getting it. Next week whatever bum dosser GOD decides for me to smash.. getting it. Your man has no days off. And if you don’t sanction me anything, mate… somebody somewhere is getting it. ICONIC, Steve Harrison and his perfect record.. getting it. And in between rounds that big ballooned masked guy who slied your man last week, your man’s not forgot about you bonny lad… getting it. And all of those precious top five who have been wrapped up in cotton wool since day one of the Final Era, trust your man…

You. Are. Getting. It.

The crowd pops, loudly.

Hughie Freeman: And your man promises you with the whole Freeman heritage that he ain’t quitting until you’ve all got it.

The cameras point straight at John Freeman for a reaction. His reaction is of a seemingly proud father. ‘Sweet Caroline’ returns to the speakers and John pulls up his pants. Hughie just smiles and leaves the ring as casually as you like as we head to our first commercial break.

#13 Steve Solex vs. #9 Zeb Martin

The show feed returns from commercial break with the HOF announce team at the broadcast table.

Joe Hoffman: Welcome back to Refueled.  Last week, Steve Solex-

Benny Newell: That’s war veteran, Best Alliance member, and a great American- Steve Solex.

Joe Hoffman: Yes Benny.  Solex spiked Zeb Martin’s drink while he was talking to Blaire Moise earlier in the show and then this happened.

(LAST WEEK’S REFUELED XLV-Lindsay Troy vs. Hughie Freeman ©- LSD Title Match)
…the crowd boos wildly as Solex marches down the ramp wheeling an unconscious Zeb Martin tied down in a wheelchair. 

Joe Hoffman: What in the…

Benny Newell: Oh my God, this is GREAT!

Steve Solex runs and jumps onto the back of the wheelchair, like some kid in the grocery store pushing the cart when his parent’s aren’t 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!

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.

(END VIDEO)

Joe Hoffman: Steve Solex humiliated Zeb Martin on last week’s show and you’ve got to think that he’s going to be out for revenge tonight.

Benny Newell: Jesus.  The dumb hick hillbilly can’t take a harmless, friendly joke at his expense.  Steve Solex is going to take the dumbass out to the woodshed and give him a much deserved ass whupping that he’s not going to forget.

The mid-tempo backing drone and accompanying piano and outlaw Nashville guitar licks begin to kick up.

Joe Hoffman: Well, we’ll find out about that soon enough Benny.  Let’s go to Bryan McVay for the ring introductions.

The voice of Ben Nichols pierces through the melody as ‘Everything Has Changed” by Lucero blares over the sound system.  The vocal queue signals Zeb Martin’s entrance. 

Bryan McVay: Introducing first, now making his way to the ring from Comer, Georgia – weighing in tonight at 235 pounds . . . ZEB MAAAAAAAARRRRRRRTIN!!!!!

The Watson Mill Kid steps out to greet everyone with the bill of his Levi Garrett Racing hat worn low to shield his eyes which prevents him from seeing the crowd rise to their feet.  A friendly grin on his face, he attempts to pull the hall down even further as he makes his way down to the ring while making sure to outstretch him arm for some old-school hand slapping.

Joe Hoffman: What an ovation for the Watson Mill Kid here tonight!

Benny Newell: WHAT?  HUH?  I’m not hearing a thing except me opening up this new bottle of Jack.  DRINK!

Upon arrival, Zeb climbs the apron and wipes his boots before ducking underneath the top rope.  Then he gives a friendly nod to his corner audience before patiently awaiting for the match to begin.

Bryan McVay: And his opponent!

Just then, the beginning of “This Means War” by Avenged Sevenfold thumps from the sound system as the crowd explodes into a fury of boos and hisses.

A montage of Steve Solex plays on the HOV, flashing on and off in rhythm with the music.  As the music stalls, the HOV goes black as the lights throughout the arena go dark.  A bomb-like explosion blasts at the top of the entry way sending a plume of smoke up and in front of the HOV in the shape of a mushroom cloud.  The music returns and Steve Solex makes his way out from behind the curtain.  

Bryan McVay: Weighing in at 252 pounds and standing six-feet, three inches tall!  He is from Huntington Beach, California!  THIS IS STEEEEEEEEEEEVEEEEEE SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLLLLLLLLLLEXXXXX!

The montage continues to play on the HOV as Solex stops atop the entrance ramp and pounds his chest twice with a white knuckled first before throwing his hands high up into the air.  Solex soaks in the boos from the crowd.  

Joe Hoffman: And now the crowd lets Steve Solex know just what they think about what he did last week.

Benny Newell: Oh waah-waaah-waaaaah.  This is HOW for Christ’s sake Hoffman.  People have done far worse things than what Steve Solex did last week.  DRINK!

Solex starts his march to the ring.  No glitz.  No high-fives.  Just a fast-paced march and the look of a cold-blooded killer.  He slides in under the bottom rope and stares down Zeb Martin before finding his corner and resting back on it. 

Benny Newell: Besides, what’s Zeb Martin going to do about it?  I tell you what he’s going to do- not a goddam thing.  He’s just like Joe Bergman- ‘too nice’ to be-

Joe Hoffman: ZEB’S NOT WAITING FOR THE BELL!

Martin charges across the ring and tackles Solex.  

Benny Newell: What the fuck is he doing?!

Right hand by Martin.  Another right – and another – and another – and another…

Joe Hoffman: Zeb Martin is raining down right hands on Steve Solex and Solex has no clue what’s hit him.

Benny Newell: COME ON HORTEGA!  DO SOMETHING!

Hortega tries to separate the two men.  Zeb pushes the referee back and continues to pummel Solex. 

Joe Hoffman: Well, you said Zeb Martin shouldn’t be nice-

Benny Newell: DISQUALIFY HIM HORTEGA!

Joe Hoffman: The match hasn’t officially begun yet, Benny.

Benny Newell: WHAT?  ARRRRGHH!

Finally, the veteran HOW referee is able to pry Martin off of Solex.  

Benny Newell: It’s about fucking time!

Hortega calls for the bell and the match is officially underway.

Solex glares across the ring at Zeb now.  

Benny Newell: Steve Solex is a member of the Best Alliance.  The kid’s messing with the wrong guy.  He’s not going to get away with this because Solex is going to fuck him-

Solex rushes forward.  Martin ducks under a wild right hand – spins – connects with a standing dropkick to Solex’s chest.  

Joe Hoffman: Apparently, he can.  Solex staggers back into the ropes.

Martin back to his feet and charges in.  Solex gets his boot in the air – Martin snatches the foot.  He then walks Solex out to the middle of the ring.

Joe Hoffman: Solex in a bad place right now.

Benny Newell: He’s got Martin reeled in exactly where he wants him!  Get it?  Reeling in?   

Joe rolls his eyes while in one fluid motion, Martin releases Solex’s leg – wraps his arms around him –  drops down to a seated position.

Joe Hoffman: Sit Out Jawbreaker from Martin!

Solex falls back into the corner.  Zeb back up and drives his shoulder into Solex’s gut.  He does it a second time.  A third time.   A fourth time – SMACK!

Benny Newell: YEAH!

Joe Hoffman: Solex raised his knee at the last second and caught Zeb Martin flush in the face!

Solex immediately whips Martin back into the corner and unloads a blistering chop across his chest.

Crowd: WOO!

Joe Hoffman: Solex now in Martin’s face talking trash!  

Benny Newell: FUCK YEAH!

Zeb shoves him back.  Solex unleashes a second chop and the sound reverberates throughout the arena.

Crowd: WOO!

Then a third chop leaves a crimson welt on Zeb’s chest.

Crowd: WOO!

Benny Newell: That’ll teach that punk to mess with an Army veteran and number one Dad!

Joe Hoffman: You forgot ‘great American.’

Benny Newell: Yeah, that too. DRINK!

Solex drives his palm into Martin’s face and again taunts him.  The Watson Mill Kid struggles for air.

Joe Hoffman: That’s a deliberate choke.  

Benny Newell: What?  I don’t see one.

Hortega admonishes Solex but he refuses to relent.  

Joe Hoffman: Solex with a blatant choke and should be disqualified-

Benny Newell: Shut your whore mouth Hoffman.  I know a choke when I see one and I don’t see- 

Joe Hoffman: Hortega finally starts a five count on Solex!

Benny Newell: What is he doing!

UNO!

DOS!

TRES!

CUATRO!

CIN-

Solex shoves Martin back and retreats to the center of the ring followed by Hortega who gives him a piece of his mind- in Spanish.

Joe Hoffman: Solex is getting a stern talking to from referee Joel Hortega for his unsportsmanlike behavior.

Benny Newell: I have no idea what you’re talking about.  I did not see anything unsportsmanlike at all.  DRINK!

Solex charges in and drives his forearm into Martin’s neck.  Martin takes two steps forward- Solex drops a stiff double axe handle smash across his back – Zeb to his knees now.  Solex grabs him by the head and drives him face first to the mat.   He rolls Martin over – cover.

UNO!

DOS- Zeb kicks out emphatically.  

Joe Hoffman: Zeb Martin started fast but Solex has turned things around in the past couple minutes and-

Something suddenly catches Joe’s eyes- any Benny’s as well.  

Benny Newell: Who the hell is THAT?

Walking down towards the broadcast table is a man dressed in an old school, 1950’s gas station attendant complete with a captain-style hat and a uniform with ‘Mr. Gas’ emblazoned on the front upper left.  Much to Joe and Benny’s surprise, he’s allowed to walk past security into the ringside area.

Joe Hoffman: Well whoever he is, apparently he’s coming to join us at the broadcast table.

Mr. Gas does indeed sit down next to Joe and puts on a pair of headphones.  

Benny Newell: Who the fuck are you?

Mr. Gas: My name is-

Benny Newell: IT DOESN’T MATTER WHAT THE FUCK YOUR NAME IS!

Joe Hoffman: BENNY!  

Mr. Gas: Zeb Martin is a big fan of my work in the indies so he invited me here tonight.  

Joe Hoffman: Zeb invited you?  No offense, but after what happened last week I would have thought if anyone came down to ringside to back Zeb tonight it would have been Lindsay Troy.

Apparently, so did Steve Solex.  He’d stopped stomping the holy hell out of Martin when he noticed Mr. Gas coming down to ringside.

Mr. Gas: Ms. Troy is probably getting ready for her big match.  

Zeb slips in and snatches a Fireman’s carry on the distracted Solex.  

Mr. Gas: Zeb thought if it was okay for Steve Solex to bring him to the broadcast table last week, then there should be no issue if he asked me to come down and join you this week.  

Joe Hoffman: Well.  Welcome and it’s nice of you to join us.  At least you weren’t shanghaied into coming to ringside like Zeb was last week.

Benny becomes aghast and even borderline righteously indignant.

Benny Newell: WHAT! 

Meanwhile, back in the ring Martin hooks Solex’s leg and Hortega slides in for the three count. 

UNO!

DOS! 

Solex powers out and then rakes Zeb’s eyes.  

Joe Hoffman: Zeb Martin caught Solex with a Fireman’s Carry Gutbuster and nearly got the pinfall! 

Benny Newell: Fake news.  Not even close.

Zeb presses the attack.  He lifts Solex up to his shoulder and falls back driving his opponent to the mat.

Joe Hoffman: Big time Samoan Drop by Zeb Martin.  Cover.

UNO!

DOS!

NO!  

Benny Newell: THANK LEE!

Joe Hoffman: Steve Solex JUST kicked out of that one.  

Martin drags Solex to the middle of the ring – Solex reverses into a victory roll – Zeb counters – roll up to a bridge.  

UNO!

DOS!

NO!

Joe Hoffman:  Solex kicks out and now both men are having a stare down.  (to Mr. Gas)  What do you think of this match, Mr. Gas?

Mr. Gas (awkwardly): Um, good.  Yeah.  Very entertaining.  

Benny Newell (harshly sarcastic): Great insight!  That’s it?  That’s all you got?

Mr. Gas: Hey, at least I’m conscious.  

Joe Hoffman: He’s got a point there, Benny.

Benny starts sputtering something incomprehensible and chugs down another major portion of his bottle of Jack. 

Joe Hoffman: Neither man will give an inch.  Who will find a way to- 

Suddenly, the Best Arena explodes.

Benny Newell: Now what?

Joe Hoffman: Hold on!  Who’s coming to the ring now?

A woman with brunette hair wearing a trench coat runs in from the back.  

Benny Newell: Oh, not her!  

Aware of the commotion, Solex turns away from Martin for a brief second and sees her arrive at ringside.  

Joe Hoffman: Hang on!  Is that Lindsay Troy?  

Nope.  

The brunette wig comes off and so does the trench coat.  This one’s got blonde hair, a cropped t-shirt with ‘BARBIE-Q’ on the front, a pair of faded, torn Daisy Duke shorts, and a pair of spikey high heels.  

Joe Hoffman: IT’S BARBIE-Q! 

Benny Newell: What the hell is she doing here?

Solex sneers at her and turns back to Martin- BOOM!

Joe Hoffman: KICK TO THE GROIN!  

Martin’s well timed boot to the balls leaves Solex bent over.   

Benny Newell: SON OF A BITCH!  THAT’S A DISQUALIFICATION!  

Joe Hoffman: I didn’t see that.

Benny Newell: WHAT?  YOU CAN’T DO THAT TO A WAR VETERAN, BEST ALLIANCE MEMBER, NUMBER ON DAD AND . . .and . . . 

Joe Hoffman: ‘Great American.’ 

Benny Newell: YEAH, GREAT AMERICAN!  

Zeb crosses his arms for a straightjacket hold – lifts Solex into a vertical position – drives him down between his legs.

Joe Hoffman: HOOK, LINE, AND SINKER!

Benny Newell: NOOOOOOOOOO!

Zeb hooks both legs.  Hortega down for the count. 

UNO!

DOS!

TRES!

*DING-DING-DING-DING*

Benny Newell: FUCK!

Bryan McVay: Your winner- the Watson Mill Kid . . . ZEB MAAAAAAAARRRRRRRTIN!!!!!

Hortega raises Martin’s hand as the crowd roars its approval.  

Live from Springfield?

Barbie-Q rolls into the ring and stands over the fallen Solex.  She shakes her head and turns to walk away.  But then she stops and turns back around.  

After a brief inner deliberation, Barbie-Q grins down at Solex in a less than friendly way.  She rears back with her right leg – and everything she’s got swings it forward and – BOOM!

Benny Newell: NOOOOOO!  

Joe Hoffman: Ooooh.  Barbie-Q punts Solex in the balls to add insult to injury.  Just a little payback for what Solex did to her a few weeks ago.  

Solex doubles up on the mat and rolls back and forth.  

Benny Newell: Fuck Zeb Martin!  Fuck all of you for cheering him.  Fuck Barbie-Q for sticking her fucking nose where it doesn’t fucking belong in Best Alliance business!  And . . . fuck you Mr. Gas for . . . fuck I don’t know, but fuck you!

Mr. Gas: Hey.  Thanks for having me join you.

Joe Hoffman: Well, thank you for your insight and somewhat random appearance here tonight.

Benny Newell (sputtering): Ah . . . ah . . .  ARRRGHHH!

Joe Hoffman: Zeb Martin gets a big win tonight over Steve Solex and more importantly gets payback on him for last week.  

Solex pulls himself up with the help of the ropes.  What does he find? 

Referee Joel Hortega- gone.  

Zeb Martin- gone.  He’s already headed backstage with Mr. Gas talking shop.  

Barbie-Q- gone.  She walked to the back with Zeb and Mr. Gas.  

Joe Hoffman: We will be back with more action after these commercial . . . 

The HOV suddenly comes to life and the graphic “Live from Springfield, Missouri” appears at the bottom.

Joe Hoffman: . . . message?

The video screen shows the camera zooming in to a very familiar face to HOW fans. 

Joe Bergman: Hello Steve.  

Solex looks up at the HOV and sees Joe Bergman standing in the middle of a wrestling ring. 

Joe Bergman: Okay, you can cancel the 97red alert.  I’m right here.  

Bergman waves.  Solex fires back a middle finger response.

Joe Bergman: Good to see you too Steve.  How’s your night going? 

The question elicits a double middle finger response from Bergman’s former tag team partner. 

Joe Bergman: Steve, for the record, the last thing I expected was to return home from France in July, ready to put War Games behind me and finally go forward with PBR with you, only to find out that I would be medically precluded from further competition for an indefinite period of time.  I didn’t expect to get sick.  I didn’t expect to have major surgery.  And let’s be honest, I certainly didn’t expect to win the HOW Tag Team title at the Lethal Lottery back in April when I threw my name into the hopper.   All of these series of events effectively killed PBR before we really got started.  

Joe shrugs.  

Joe Bergman: I do feel bad for how this all turned out.  But.  If you were really that upset with me over PBR not panning out, you could have just come out – or better yet, reached out to me directly and said so.  But you didn’t, did you?  

He shakes his head no.

Joe Bergman: Nope. Instead you took the easy way.  You attacked without any provocation my sister Barbie-Q and then at Rumble at the Rock you did the same to Dawn McGill.  Well, okay.  You’ve got my full attention now Steve and with that comes consequences. 

A ring tech rolls into the ring and hands Joe a piece of paper.  Bergman scans the first page of the document and continues.  

Joe Bergman: You know, I was done with wrestling following my illness.  I was not lying when I said back in July that there was a good chance my in-ring career had come to an end.  But.  In light of recent events – and the fact that Lee Best may be blind but he can still see a good grudge match that should be booked from a mile away, I’m standing here in Springfield, Missouri with this.

Joe holds up the piece of paper.

Joe Bergman: This is a contract, Steve.  A HOW contract that says that I will step into the ring one last time to face you . . .  Steve Solex versus Joe Bergman . . . mano y mano . . .  you and I will settle this once and for all . . .

He pauses for maximum effect.

Joe Bergman: . . . at ICONIC.

The crowd roars as Bergman pulls out a pen and signs his name to the bottom line.  Joe then shows the signed contract – the camera on the video zooms in to show Bergman’s signature. 

Joe Bergman: See you December 19th

End transmission.  The HOV goes black as we head to commercial break.

Main Event
Dan Ryan ©vs. Michael Lee Best©

LSD Championship Match
Steve Harrison vs. Hughie Freeman©

Singles Match
Steve Solex vs. Joe Bergmen

Singles Match
Lindsay Troy vs. Jatt Starr

Singles Match
High Flyer vs. John Sektor

Relevance

The scene cuts backstage to a close up of the HOW Tag Team Championship belt resting on a desk.    The camera pans back revealing Jatt Starr sitting at the aforementioned desk in front of a banner that reads “StarrSek Industries”.   The Champion of Jattanooga’s demeanor is one of complete seriousness.

JATT STARR:  What you see before you is a little something that the Ruler of Jattlantis likes to call “relevance”.   I have amassed victory after victory since my glorious return to the HOW, maintaining the mantra of “StarrSek Industries”.   Eliminate the Obsolete.   Kevin Capone?  Obsolete.  Gone.  Phht, outta here!

The King of Grapple from the Big Apple jerks his left thumb over his shoulder.

JATT STARR:  Kostoff?  A relic that doesn’t even belong in a museum, so out with the rubbish he went.  Simon Loveless?  Is he even still around?  Obsolete!   Brain Hollywood?  He’s about as “in” as the Macarena right now.  That guy who was his tag team partner?  No one cares about him.  He’s about as insignificant as the New York Jets.

The Saviour of Starrkham takes the HOW Tag Team Champion, pulls out a cloth from the drawer and does a light polish around the “H”.

JATT STARR:  Relevance.  That’s what I have and you, Lindsay Troy, are rapidly losing.  Relevance, respect….well, respect you lost a long time ago.  Seriously, do you honestly believe for one second someone like Mike Best gives a rat’s rectum what happens to you?  Please.  He cares only for himself and I’m not knocking him, he is who he is.  He became the HOW Champion by not giving a turtle’s turd about anyone.  That’s why he’s el numbero uno!

The Sovereign of Starrgentina goes to say something else but thinks better of it.

JATT STARR:  I tried being the nice guy, I told you, nay, begged you to quit.  You’ve decided to bad mouth and besmirch my good name.  Well, tonight, you have a SECOND chance in as many weeks to obtain the LSD Championship.  Look at the HOW gods shining on you.  OR perhaps, in their own weird way, they are, in fact, giving me what I want.  

The Jattsylvanian Count carefully places the HOW Tag Team Championship on the desk.  

JATT STARR:  I want to hear you scream “I QUIT”.   I want you to look in the cameras, tears rolling down your cheeks, blood pouring down your face, I want you to look in the cameras as if you were looking into your children’s eyes and scream “I QUIT”.  I want to see the pain and agony in those eyes of yours, when you say those two beautiful and magical words and admit to the world what you are….OBSOLETE.   And the best part?  Your arrogance and denial will still lead you to take on the Jattagonian Giant at ICONIC….where you will be forced to admit to yourself that you’re just another piece of trash taken out by “StarrSek Industries”.    You’ll end up being just another “Demonic” Michael Hunter.

The Marquis of MadagaStarr smiles smugly before answering a question no one posed.

JATT STARR:  What’s that?  Who’s “Demonic” Michael Hunter?  Exactly.

The scene ends with Jatt Starr retrieving the HOW Tag Team Championship and continues to polish away the smudges that may (or may not) be present. 

#10 Conor Fuse vs. #12 High Flyer

Joe Hoffman: Welcome back folks as we are ready for our next matchup between High Flyer vs Conor Fuse.

Benny Newell: The cheapshot artist Conor Fuse after what he did last week.

Joe Hoffman: I’m guessing you’re talking about how Conor Fuse attacked Scotty after his match with High Flyer… just like Scotty did to him weeks ago.

Benny Newell: Don’t try and justify his cowardly attack Joe.  This isn’t about what Scotty may or may not have done.

Joe Hoffman: Well regardless, we will see now if Conor Fuse can do what Scottywood couldn’t, and that is beat High Flyer.

The lights in the arena turn off before the big screen flickers on, like it has just been plugged in. There, a picture of Conor Fuse’s head is placed in the middle and numerous faces of various HOW talent are scattered around, resembling that of a Mega Man stage select screen. As the selection lands on the current match at hand, the lights come back on and a green strobe light shines in the center of the rampway. Emerging from the back is Conor Fuse, dressed in his lime green tights, green arm sleeves and green bandana.

Bryan McVay: The following match is scheduled for one fall, now making his way to the ring from Toronto, Ontario, Canada and weighing in at 210 pounds… CONOR FUSE!!!!!

Conor takes a moment to pose with his left fist in the air. Then he marches his way down to the ring, sporting a smile and some confidence. He stops at the front of the ring, takes one leap onto the apron and then with ease, clears the ropes via another leap, somersaulting into the squared circle.

“All Aboard! AH HA HA HA HA HA HA HA…”

A light fog rises up from the entrance way as the opening guitar rift kicks in. Parting the smoke is High Flyer, who stands confidently at the top of the entrance ramp. He tosses one hand up in a devil horn taunt, and smiles slyly to the camera.

Bryan McVay: And his opponent, from Bethlehem, Pennsylvania and weighing in at 224 pounds…. HIGH FLYER!!!!!!

He stomps his way to the ring, paying very little attention to the crowd. Once he reaches ringside, he slips in under the bottom rope, then sprawls on his back. He begins to make snow angels while residing on his back, looking up at the lights before recovering to his feet. As the announcer introduces High Flyer, he leaps onto the second ropes and looks out to the crowd.

DING DING DING

As Boettcher calls for the bell the two men lock up as the younger Fuse starts pushing Flyer back towards the corner, but the veteran Flyer is able to get a knee into the gut of Fuse and quickly connects with a neck hook implant DDT.

Joe Hoffman: Cold Snow!  High Flyer striking big off the bat!  Shoots the half for the cover!

ONE…….

 

TWO…………….

 

Fuse throws his shoulder up and manages to kick out after getting caught off guard by the quick DDT.

Joe Hoffman: Flyer nearly ended this before it even began as Fuse now will have to try and get his head back into this match quickly.

Benny Newell: Harder to fight someone when they know you’re coming, huh Fuse?

Fuse staggers to his feet as he tries to put space between him and Flyer who charges back at The Vintage and spears him into the near corner and drives a few quick shoulder to the gut of Fuse before unloading a couple hard rights.  Flyer pulls Fuse out of the corner and whips him across the ring but Fuse holds on and whips Flyer into the far corner.  Flyer hits the turnbuckles and bounces out as Fuse follows up with a hurricaranna.  Quickly Fuse pops up and delivers a springboard moonsault off the ropes and goes for his own cover.

ONE……………

 

TWO………………………

 

Joe Hoffman: Impressive combo by Fuse but not nearly enough to keep the veteran High Flyer down.

Benny Newell: Maybe his mom can help him out by bring him some fucking pizza bagels to his video game troll basement bedroom.

Flyer power out as both men climb back to their feet and exchange punches before Fuse this time gains the upper hand with a shot to the gut and a quick roundhouse kick.  Flyer is spun around and Fuse goes for a german suplex but Flyer grabs the ropes and holds on as Fuse crashes to the mat.  Flyer quickly springboards off the ropes and launches at Fuse who climbs back to his feet and connects with a Lou Thesz as he starts hammering away at the skull of Fuse.  But after a few shots Fuse is able to monkey flip Flyer off him as they both roll away to the ropes.

Joe Hoffman: A back and forth fury of action here between these to energetic wrestlers

Benny Newell: Let’s just get to the part where Scottywood comes out and murders him.  We all know that he is not going to let some noob like Fuse slide for what he did last week.

Joe Hoffman: I am quite surprised by the restraint in our COO Benny.  I would have at least expected him at ringside bugging us during commentary.

Flyer is first to his feet as he charges at Fuse and goes for a big splash on Fuse in the corner but Fuse rolls out of th way and Flyer crashes hard into the turnbuckles.  A quick inverted DDT lays out Flyer as Fuse leaps up to the top rope.

Joe Hoffman: Fuse looking for that big 450 splash!

But Flyer pops back up to his feet and starts firing away at Fuse with punches as he tries for a corkscrew suplex off the top rope.  But Fuse escapes free and headbuts Flyer that sends the dazed veteran teether from the top before Fuse connects with a second headbut and Flyers crashes down to the mat.

Benny Newell: Come on!  DQ him for that cheap shit!

Joe Hoffman: Super Splash 450!

Fuse leaps off for the big 450 splash as Flyer pops up and goers for the Locomotive charging yakuza kick.

Benny Newell: Kick his head off!

Fuse though sees this in mid air and twists his body out of the way for the kick.  As Flyer turns around he is caught buy a tilt-a-whirl DDT.

Joe Hoffman: PWN’d!!!!

Fuse leaps up to the opposite turnbuckle now and wastes no time leaping off for a second 450 which this time connects with it’s target of High Flyer as he goes for the cover.

Benny Newell: Fucking eh!  Someone hit the reset button!  Pull the plug on the console!

 

ONE…………

 

TWO……………………

 

THREE…………………………………….

 

Bryan McVay: Here is your winner… Conor Fu…

OOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHH, BEG MOTHERFUCKER…. BEG!

Benny Newell: Here comes Scottywood!

The Chicago crowd roars as Fuse immediately turns his attention to the entrance way… and then starts scanning three-hundred and sixty degrees around him, looking for Scotty to come out from the crowd… or be dressed as one of the ringside crew members… or be under the ring.

Benny Newell: Where is he?

Joe Hoffman: No idea Benny…

The music fades as Fuse rolls out of the ring and grabs himself a steel chair from ringside before he starts to make his way up the entrance way, scanning around himself with each step…

OOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHH, BEG MOTHERFUCKER…. BEG!

Fuse slams the steel chair on the rampway as he is ready for a fight with Scotty…. But again there is no Hardcore Artist in sight.

Joe Hoffman: Mind games by our COO as he is just toying with Conor Fuse right now.

Benny Newell: You’re fucked Fuse… fucked!

The music again fades out as Fuse slams the chair down on the rampway and makes his way backstage as we cut away to elsewhere in the arena.

GIVE ME WHAT I WANT

Brian Bare walks with some coke in his step as he sees Steve Harrison walking down the corridor towards his locker room.  Steve is walking with crutches with a large angry looking man walking behind him.  The man begins to stare daggers into Brian’s soul.  Brian slows up at the sight of this man and then looks back at Steve who has stopped walking and is tapping his temple with his left index finger.  

Brian Bare: Steve…uh…is it ok to talk?

Harrison takes a step towards Brian and looks at the camera and gives it a wink.  He looks back to Brian and grabs the mic from him.  He pushes Brian to the side and smirks as he lifts the mic to his lips.

Steve Harrison: Do you see these crutches, Brian?  

Brian off camera is heard saying yes.

Steve Harrison: The Miracle Man is not accepting questions because he has a bunch to say without being bothered by what the fans want to know.  Pssh…please.  I know what they NEED to know and that is their new hero, the undefeated demi-god was harmed.  These crutches are the only thing that makes it possible for me to walk on my own.  That is why I have not been heard from and why I missed a supposed match for a supposed title.  The wrestling demons are always trying to hold me back. 

The Suplex Saint spits on the ground in anger at his recent circumstances.

Steve Harrison: That is why going forward I have this guy…

Steve points at the large individual standing behind him.

Steve Harrison: It took prodding some people to make it happen, but I have found a bodyguard who I know has no problem crossing some imaginary line for his employer.

The bodyguard nods which in turn makes Steve Harrison smile like a lunatic.

Steve Harrison: Now…let me stop playing the bullshit friend card.  Since the LSD title is not in my hands right now and just tonight, I had to witness that witless gypsy shitty up the airwaves we can stop the games.  Hughie Freeman is NOT my friend because he did not hand me what is rightfully mine.  This is unfortunate for him because now he will force me to shake off my injury and physically rip that title from his greasy grasp.  It is ok to wash your hands, Hughie, that won’t stop you from being a pikey piece of shit.  

The Miraculous One shrugs and leans against the wall as he begins to shaky with the crutches.

Steve Harrison: Let me make this clear, ok?  I am going to rip that bowler hat off your head and feed it down your annoying fathers throat.  If I have to hear ‘Sweet Caroline,” one more time I will literally whisper in my bodyguards ear his new assignment.  That assignment will be the surprised drowning of Neil Diamond.  

Harrison puts his arms in the air like he just doesn’t not give a flying fuck you idiots.

Steve Harrison: SURPRISE!  I am sure Hughie wants to know our stipulation for the LSD title but that is not something anyone needs to know when tonight Lindsay Troy could win the title.  Now wouldn’t that be some bullshit, huh?  Two PPVs in a row I am screwed out of my deserved LSD Title match because the champion chokes before they get to me.  I am counting on you tonight, Freeman.  I hope you are watching this somewhere and getting angry. I need you to remember that Miracle you wished for and one only I can give you a shot at.  Oh…trust me…your odds are not good but you have something that belongs to me so I will give you a chance at going down in history as the first person to defeat me in HOW. 

Steve smiles and looks down at his watch.

Steve Harrison: You win tonight, and you get your match and I get my TITLE.  I get that fucking BELT that I have deserved for over two months and have been constantly screwed out of receiving.  Next week you will know the match and I expect you to shake my hand when I tell you.  I also expect you to shake my hand when at ICONIC I become the new LSD Champion.  

Harrison pushes the camera away and begins walking away with his bodyguard suddenly a little farther down the hall the camera catches Harrison shake his foot and place it down on the floor and begin to walk perfectly fine like he was Keyser Söze as he disappears behind the next doorway as we hit the commercial break.

#4 Lindsey Troy vs. #5 Hughie Freeman

I QUIT Match for the LSD Championship

We’re back from commercial break as the next match is getting underway.

Joe Hoffman: Well Benny, this next match should prove to be a very intense match as the brawler and LSD Champion, Hughie Freeman, looks to collide with the martial arts queen herself, Lindsay Troy, and this match will be an I QUIT match for the LSD CHAMPIONSHIP!

Benny Newell: Leave it to me trying to bet on this match!  I don’t really care for either of these people, hoffhole!  Lindsay turned her back on our GOD and that’s punishable by death!

Joe Hoffman: Well, grudges set aside, this is going to have implications for ICONIC , no doubt Benny.

Benny Newell: The only thing that will be implicating here is seeing as much blood being spilt as possible!

The ominous, opening chords to “Put ‘Em in the Grave” by Jedi Mind Tricks blasts through the speakers as a raucous ovation from the High Octane Faithful heralds the Queen of the Ring to the stage. Once the first verse kicks in, Lindsay Troy strolls out amidst a shower of pyro and cannon blasts, but doesn’t pause to preen or rile up the crowd. Instead, she marches down the ramp to the ring, blowing right by the camera in the aisle, looking focused. Spotlights follow her path as she makes her way up the steps, foregoing her usual jump to the apron and flip into the ring. She slips between the ropes, and saunters over to a corner to scale the turnbuckles and pose a bit before the match begins.

Joe Hoffman: Lindsay looking determined here tonight.  A lot of people have been saying this is a must win for her here tonight.

Benny Newell: A lot of people being who?  It makes no difference if she wins or loses here tonight.  Lindsay isn’t the same woman she was when she came to High Octane.

‘Sweet Caroline’ by Neil Diamond hits and the arena ruptures into total hysteria. They’ve seen the 2006 viral 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. The HOW Resident Pikey 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. Freeman quickly enters the ring, heads for the furthest turnbuckle and climbs it. The chorus blasts with a real party atmosphere; everyone singing, with your man Hughie Freeman placing up a solid fist in acknowledgement. He jumps off the turnbuckle and loosens off. Also a touch of shadow boxing.

Joe Hoffman: The LSD Champion looks good!  I think he’s been itching to keep relevant especially after his time at the Rock.

Benny Newell: Yea?  Well he deserved such punishment!  The only irony of this match will be that Lindsay Troy will be delivered that punishment from the guy who got punished big time.  How ironic would that be, hoffduck?

Bryan McVay: The following contest is an I QUIT match…and it is for the LSD CHAMPIONSHIP!  Introducing first, the challenger, from Tampa Bay, she weighs in at 195 pounds…she is….LIIIINDSAY TROOOOOOOOOOOY!

Troy steps forward keeping her composure and her eyes locked on the LSD Champion before she steps back and lies in wait.

Bryan McVay: And her opponent, from wherever he may roam, weighing in at 215 pounds, he is the LSD Champion…HUUUUUGHIE FRE-

Before McVay can finish, though, Lindsay launches right at Hughie and nails a flying forearm straight to the temple of Freeman that connects perfectly as Freeman falls to the mat.

Joe Hoffman: WHOA!  I don’t think Freeman saw that one coming!

Benny Newell: What do you think, hoffie?!  Troy pulls out all the stops and didn’t even give Freeman a chance to think…classic Lindsay right there despite how much I may not like her!

Troy begins unloading repeated right kicks stomping into the downed Hughie as Joel Hortega gets in her way and warns her to back off.  Troy just continues to kick Hughie, practically ignoring Hortega’s warning as Hortega starts to count towards Lindsay…

 

UNO

 

DOS

 

TRES

 

QUATRO

 

Finally, Lindsay complies and back off Hughie.

Joe Hoffman: Close call there Benny.  I thought this match was going to be over quickly.

Benny Newell: Why is Hortega even counting?!  Doesn’t that fuckstick know that this is an LSD title match?  There aren’t any rules in these matches!

Joe Hoffman: Be that as it may, Benny, this match still has to get started properly.

Benny just scoffs at Joe’s logic as he knows the rules fine tuned.  Lindsay finally stands in corner opposite of Hughie as Hortega checks on him.  Hughie acknowledges Hortega and insists he’s ready to go as Hortega finally calls for the bell.

Ding Ding Ding!

The match now starts properly as Lindsay is just chopping at the bit as she charges towards Hughie who appears to not quickly figure out that Lindsay is charging at him.  Lindsay goes for another flying forearm but is met with a stiff kick to the side of the head that the whole arena hears as Lindsay falls to the mat.  Hughie follows that up quickly with some ground and pound action as Lindsay is unable to protect herself from the onslaught of strikes from Freeman.  Hughie falls back as Hortega checks in on Lindsay and asks her if she wants to quit.

Lindsay Troy: NO!!!

Hortega acknowledges and steps away as Freeman rushes towards Lindsay again only this time, Lindsay is ready as she sweeps the leg of Freeman as he is taken down to the mat.  Lindsay gets back to her feet as Hughie makes it on one knee before Lindsay charges at him and connects with a shining wizard putting Hughie back to the mat.  Hughie rolls to the corner turnbuckle as he tries to get back to his feet.  Lindsay measures Hughie again as she rushes towards him but Hughie moves out of the way as Lindsay collides with the turnbuckle.  Hugie rushes to his feet before he runs at Lindsay, taking an opportunity, and strikes her with a running dropkick straight into the turnbuckle as Lindsay falls to the mat.

Joe Hoffman: Wow, this has been an interesting back and forth chess match between Freeman and Troy.

Benny Newell: I’m shitty at chess, but at least I make sound investments when it comes to betting on matches like these.

Joe Hoffman: I don’t even know what the heck that means..

Benny Newell: Sound investing, hoffcup, sound investing.

Lindsay isn’t even given a chance as Freeman grabs her and lays her out with a gutwrench suplex.  Lindsay grabs her back as he signals for Hortega to ask her again.  Hortega acknowledges and asks if Lindsay wants to quit which is empathetically replies.

Lindsay Troy: NO!!!

Hughie sighs as he grabs Lindsay, bringing her back to her feet.  Hughie tries to go for a kicking move, but Lindsay grabs his foot and nails a spinning round house kick that connects with Hughie.  Hughie goes down as Lindsay looks around the ring before rolling out and checking under the ring ropes.  She pulls out a couple different weapons, that being a steel chair and a lead pipe.  Lindsay rolls back into the ring and wedges the steel chair in one of the corner turnbuckles.  She dives towards a stirring Hughie but he is unable to respond quickly as Hughie is clobbered by a diving attack with the lead pipe that effectively busts him wide open.  She quickly drops the lead pipe and sicks Hortega on him as blood starts to pour out of Hughie’s head.  Hortega asks a struggling Hughie if he wants to quit.

Hughie Freeman: No!!

Lindsay shakes her head in frustration as she thought she had Hughie pegged there.  

Joe Hoffman: Hughie is busted open and boy did Lindsay really clock him good with that shot by the lead pipe!

Benny Newell: I call it more of a desperation attempt, nothing more!

Lindsay walks back over to Hughie and picks him up from the canvas.  She targets the chair in the corner turnbuckle.  She irish whips him into the corner turnbuckle against the chair as Hughie could feel the steel lodged into his back.  Lindsay then measures up Hughie as she rushes towards him going for a spear, but Hughie moves, causing Lindsay to go head first into the steel chair effectively busting her open!

Joe Hoffman: OH MY GOD!!!  DID YOU HEAR THAT?!  That self-inflicted chair shot just sent Lindsay Troy dazed to the ground!

Benny Newell: It’s called KARMA, Hoffstuff!  Lindsay should have known better than that and now Lindsay is the one who is busted wide open!

Indeed, Lindsay was busted open good as blood starts to gush from her forehead.  Now both Hughie and Lindsay are down on the mat, both fighting to stay in this match.  Hortega checks on them both as Lindsay rolls out of the ring and to the outside.  Hughie starts to stir, however, as he slowly makes it back to his feet.  Noticing Lindsay is nowhere to be seen, he estimates that she probably couldn’t be far from the ring.  He was right, too, as he sees Lindsay starting to stir as she uses the outside ropes to get back to her feet.  Hughie sees this and ricochets off the ropes and charges at Lindsay and connects with a suicide dive collectively taking them both down and to the outside of the ring.

Joe Hoffman: Wow!  Great ring awareness by the LSD Champion!

Benny Newell: I admit that was an interesting way to reclaiming control of this match…I mean, when your locked away in Alcatraz for a long period of time, that not only makes you crazy, but it gives you quite a lot to think about.

Hughie is back to his feet first as he walks over to the almost lifeless body of Troy.  He grabs her and sends her hard into the barricade outside.  Lindsay bounces off of it but instead of falling down, the adrenaline inside her causes her to lunge forward and successfully clotheslines Hughie down to the ground.  Lindsay stubbles a bit and uses the ring ropes to leverage her on her feet as she grabs Hughie and rolls him back into the ring.  Hughie then lies on his back as Lindsay grabs a table from under the ring.  She rolls it into the ring before sliding under the ring ropes herself.  Lindsay then sets up the table in closest to the turnbuckle before grabbing Hughie and bringing him back to his feet.  Hughie than uses his survival instincts to send an elbow straight into the solar plex of Lindsay.  Lindsay gaps for air as her grip on Hughie fades.  Hughie whips Lindsay into the corner turnbuckle and hoists her up top.  Lindsay has no idea where she is as Hughie goes for a suplex from the top rope and sends them both crashing through the table as Hughie’s head hits the corner of the table.

Joe Hoffman: HOLY MOTHER OF GOD!! I don’t know who got the worst of that as both Lindsay and Hughie crashed hard through that table!

Benny Newell: This is why Hughie hates going to the top rope!  But what option did he really have?!  This is a desperate attempt to keep the LSD title around his waist!

Hortega checks on both Lindsay and Freeman as neither of them appear to be moving.  Freeman holds onto the back of his head as he now supports a crimson mask.  Both refuse to give up, however, as Freeman attempts to get to his feet.  However, in a desperate attempt herself, she grabs rolls over and grabs Hughie’s neck as she wraps her legs around Hughie and uses her arms to further elevate the lock on Hughie.

Joe Hoffman: HOLY HECK!  THE DIVINE RIGHT IS LOCKED IN ON FREEMAN!

Benny Newell: NO FUCKING WAY!! HOW DID SHE MUSTER THE WILL POWER TO DO THAT!?

Lindsay has the Divine Right locked in on Hughie and it’s locked in good.  With blood pouring out of both competitors, Lindsay is using everything she has left out of desperation on Hughie.  Hughie refuses to give up, however, as he tries everything in his power to get out of the move.  But he’s also weakened as well, as he attempts to use everything he has left to get out of the Divine Right.  Hughie is trying to keep himself conscious but everything he tries to do isn’t causing Lindsay to break the hold and she’s trying hard to keep it locked in…she starts to struggle but really keeps the lock well in place as Hortega is close to keep an eye on Freeman.  There isn’t much to be had at this point, as Hughie can’t hold onto consciousness as he passes out right then and there.  Hortega looks at Freeman closely and it’s clear he has no other choice but to call this match as the man is completely out cold.

DING DING DING!

Joe Hoffman: Oh my god I don’t believe it!!!

Benny Newell: What the holy hell fuck just happened?!

Lindsay releases the hold as she rolls over on her back, clearly out of energy but it was well worth the spent as Bryan Mcvay calls the match.

Bryan McVay: Here is your winner and NEEEEEEEEEEW LSD CHAMPION……LINDSAAAAY TRRRRRRRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOYYYY!

Joe Hoffman: I don’t believe it!  Lindsay actually does it!!  We have a new LSD Champion!  What a hard fought match between these two!  Neither one of them wanted to give up and you could tell that both these stars wanted the win here tonight.

Benny Newell: Well fuck……well at least we know that the clock isnt far from 12 for that fucking 11:59 bitch Lindsey Troy. No way she holds onto the title for long.

Lindsay finally is able to pull herself back to her feet as Hortega hands her the LSD Championship.  Lindsay doesn’t hold the emotions back, however, as she lets it all out after her first singles championship victory in HOW.  Crimson mask and all, she grabs the LSD Championship from Hortega and holds it high in the air as she celebrates her first title win in HOW!  She celebrates a bit more before slowly rolling out of the ring and up the ramp as Refueled heads to a commercial break.

Main Event
Dan Ryan ©vs. Michael Lee Best©

LSD Championship Match
Steve Harrison vs. Hughie Freeman

Singles Match
Steve Solex vs. Joe Bergmen

LSD Championship Match
Lindsay Troy© vs. Jatt Starr

Singles Match
High Flyer vs. John Sektor

Two Can Play This Game

Back live and the scene reveals Conor Fuse storming his way through a hall, shouting at the top of his lungs.

Conor Fuse: Where are you, Scotty!? Not so easy to find now that I’ve stood up for myself, huh!?

Benny Newell: Action backstage, Joe? Seriously? What the hell is this shit!?

A cameraman tries to catch up to Conor, revealing The Vintage is dragging an SNES controller behind him.

Joe Hoffman: Is that controller covered in barbed wire!?

As the announcer points out, it is indeed a controller wrapped in barbed wire… along with the cord. Conor pulls it behind him, the controller bouncing up and down on the nicks and dents from the cement floor. Only the adapter port is barbed-free, making it easy for The Vintage to take hold of.

Conor Fuse: Usually you’re right in my peripherals! Now I don’t see you anywhere!

Fuse giggles to himself as he turns a corner.

Conor Fuse: Come out, come out, wherever you-

The cameraman trails behind and Conor stops cold in his tracks. What’s in front of the gamer is a mystery until the cameraman ultimately turns the corner himself.

Scottywood.

There, across the hallway from Fuse. The focus is blurry because the videographer was in a hurry but The Hardcore Artist seems to be in stoic form… hand wrapped over his barbed wire hockey stick.

Conor giggles for a second time.

Conor Fuse: PEEKABOO, BITCH.

The two are in a standoff.

Conor Fuse: I see you brought your hockey stick to the fight. I have a friend, too.

Fuse whips the wire forward as the SNES controller flies over his head, crashing in front.

Conor Fuse: Do you have anything to say, punk!? I’m ready…

The Vintage slowly comes to realize that’s not Scottywood down the hall. The camera gets a better focus too… it’s merely a cardboard cutout, more than likely used for promotional purposes.

Conor Fuse: I am going crazy.

Benny Newell: What a god damn idiot!

Joe Hoffman: In fairness, the camera didn’t focus until now.

Benny Newell: Not us you moron. HE’S the one who’s there!

Conor whips the controller like a nunchuck. An evil smile breaks on his face…

Conor Fuse: I AM going crazy!

The Vintage takes quick breaths, becoming more and more excited as he does. Conor looks thrilled he is losing his mind! Then he snaps the controller about, this time almost taking out the cameraman as he does.

Conor Fuse: BATSHIT crazy!

The Green One decides to approach the Scottywood cutout. Fuse hurls the controller around like a cowboy lasso and then, when he’s ready, decapitates Scotty’s head with one fatal blow. Conor thinks this is hilarious! He breaks down, hands on his knees, laughing like he’s taking part in a Joker audition.

Conor Fuse: Bullseye! Baawahahahaha!!

Brushing himself off, Conor continues down the hall, all calm, cool and collected, dragging the controller behind…

Conor Fuse: COME OUT AND PLAY. If you’re not here, Scotty, you’re THERE and you’re missing out on a good time!! I’m prime and ready to go with my new toy!!

Joe Hoffman: Folks, it’s being relayed to me Scottywood is indeed, NOT here tonight. He may still be recovering from the attacks of last week!

Benny Newell: Or, the joys of being in ownership. Now get this idiot OFF my monitor!

Fuse rounds another corner as he is faced-off with a second cardboard cutout of Scottywood standing in the hallway.

Conor Fuse: What the… did he buy these in bulk? [Battle cry] You’ll meet the same fate as your buddy!

Conor goes to whip the control at the cardboard cutout but suddenly, from doorways on each side of the hall, we see two hockey sticks appear. They block the controller from even scratching The Cardboard Artist.

Conor Fuse: HA! I knew you were here Scot-…

It is not Scotty who walks into the hallway but instead two men wearing red hockey jerseys with the number 6 on them. The men stare down as Fuse pulls his controller back, ready to strike if needed.

Joe Hoffman: And who in the world are these two?

Benny Newell: Hockey players obviously Joe! Geez… it’s pretty fucking obvious.

The two men have no intention of engaging Conor, though. Instead one of them reaches for the hockey puck in front of the cardboard Scottywood with their stick and flips it to The Vintage. Catching the puck with his free hand, Conor looks down at it as the camera focuses in.

Joe Hoffman: Is that an ICONIC hockey puck signed by Scottywood?

Benny Newell: Now this is a instant vintage collectible… unlike Conor’s stuipd fucking toy games.

Joe Hoffman: I don’t think it’s meant to be sold on eBay… I think it’s a message from Scottywood.

Benny Newell: Oh yeah? What’s that?

Joe Hoffman: That The Hardcore Artist will finish things with The Vintage at ICONIC… it’s pretty obvious.

Fuse smiles and nods his head back at the two goons. He takes the hockey puck and wings it towards the cardboard Scotty’s head for a dead on headshot. However, one of the goons raises his stick and strikes the puck down with the blade, inches from Scotty’s head.

Conor Fuse: Tell Scotty I accept. I’ll see him at ICONIC, if he has the balls to…

CRACK!!!

Benny Newell: He is here! Scotty drilled Conor in the back with his barbed wire stick!

Joe Hoffman: From behind! Just like you complained…

Benny Newell: He was staring him down face-to-face, Joe!

Joe Hoffman: The cardboard cutout was… but-

Benny Newell: Exactly! Thank you!

The Hardcore Artist stands over Fuse. The Vintage tries to pull himself up as blood runs down his back. Conor doesn’t make it far before Scotty again strikes the gamer across the back with the hockey stick and shakes his head.

Scottywood: You have no fucking idea what you have entered into Fuse. This “game” you think you’re playing… it’s just about over. At ICONIC… I’m taking your last life…

CRACK!!!

The third strike nearly breaks the stick as Scotty discards the kevlar weapon to the floor and motions for his goons to pick Fuse up. The two men quickly oblige as they turn Conor around to face Scottywood.

Scottywood: And when I do… it isn’t going to be Game Over…

Scotty picks Fuse up onto his shoulders into a fireman’s carry and quickly snaps his body around, connecting with the spike DDT onto the concrete floor. Fuse’s body sickenly bounces off it as the momentum causes The Vintage to roll onto his back. Scotty gets into Conor’s passed out, bloody face.

Scottywood: It’s gonna be a Game Misconduct.

The action cuts away as the dust clears from another match at ICONIC being made official.

This is NOT Random

“Yes Mother, I am trying my best! No, no you don’t need to call my Boss and tell him I deserve some time off.. I like my job! I am a grown ass man Mother!”

A man in a tieless suit exiting the building, steps out into the parking garage. He looks stressed with bags forming under his eyes as he struggles to keep his phone to his ear with it pressed between his head and shoulder. Searching his pockets, he pulls out a set of keys and fumbles them a bit as the door closes behind him.

“No, I wasn’t yelling Mother. I just got this job here High Octane and it is my job t.. No, not just get coffee! I also get donu– Holy Fuck!!”

Stunned. The young crewman drops his phone and his keys as he stands stuck staring ahead of him. The camera turns to see what he sees. At first glance it was a limousine but as the camera moves from driver side door to the door in the back, YOU see the door was open and blood was pooled under a body. The emptiness of the garage made everything pick up in audio and the voice of the Producer’s Mother is heard. He picks up his phone.

Crewman: “I’ve gotta call you back! Nooo.. , I need to call you back! Why? There is a body in the parking lot. That’s why! No, I don’t KNOW him.. I will not take a picture! I’ve gotta go!”

Hanging up on his own Mother, the crewman flips through his phone, finds the camera and takes a picture. The flash brightens the entire garage. In a hurry, the crewman rushes back inside to get help. Out from behind one of the large pillars in the Garage steps a man wearing a black Ski Mask. He stands near the body and is pointing at himself.

SKI MASK: “ME..”

The action cuts to commercial suddenly…

A most violent introduction

Back live from commercial and there is a commotion backstage….

Crewman: “Out here! Hurry!”

Shoulder through the door and spilling into the Parking Garage was the young Producer and two EMTs on standby for the show. He didn’t have to even point but did as the EMTs rush past him and hurry to the scene. The door of the limousine was wide open and as the Medics grab hold of the man slump down and seemingly injured, the face of Brian HOLLYWOOD is found covered in blood. 

Crewman: “Ohhh man! That’s Brian Hollywood!

EMT #1: “He is breathing. Just seems to have been knocked unconscious..”

Crewman: “He looks like he got kicked by a Horse! What happened?!”

EMT #2: “Who KNOWS, will you shut up while we work here?!”

Crewman: “Geez..Sorry!”

Checking his vitals, the EMTs move Hollywood flat on his back. Doing everything they can to keep his neck protected. Security casually walk into the scene and the Producer is getting big in his britches as he takes control of the area.

Crewman: “Where were you guys when this happened?!”

SECURITY #1: “Food. We was hungry..”

Crewman: “Hungry? What if he was killed on your watch huh? Come on fellas.. Let’s get going! Do we have eyes on the garage?”

Looking up overhead, he checks to see if there were cameras. He found none. 

Crewman: “You’ve got to be kidding ME. Damn it!”

Brian Hollywood: “Ugh..”

Jumping as if the moaned grunt scared him. The Producer snaps back and looks down at Brian Hollywood who is trying to sit up. The Medics hold him down, trying to keep him calm and relaxed. The crimson drainage from his face was fresh and as he opened his eyes, his right was bloodshot.

Crewman: “Hey! Who did this? Can you give me a name?!”

Hollywood: “I– I..”

Before he can say two whole words, he slumps back into unconsciousness. 

Crewman: “Come on! Wake him up again!”

EMT #1: “Will you get back, the ambulance is coming in..”

As they work to get Brian Hollywood prepped, an Ambulance flashing its lights backs into position. The driver hops out and opens the back doors, dragging a stretcher from the inside. The three paramedics strap Hollywood in and lift him into the Ambulance. The Producer watches on and sees a note fall from Hollywood’s suit jacket. Picking the note up, he unfolds the paper. It looked like a ransom note. Like each letter was cut from a magazine and glued on the paper. The Producer reads it almost under his breath. 

Crewman: “Long time overdue..”

Scoffing as he drops his hands and looks around. He wasn’t sure what the message meant but he had a feeling it was meant to leave more questions than answers.

Action cuts back inside the arena as it time for our Main Event.

#7 Jatt Starr and #1 Mike Best vs. #2 Dan Ryan and #14 Doozer

We cut inside The Best Arena where ring announcer Bryan McVay is standing by…

Brian McVay:  Ladies and Gentlemen…..Please allow me to introduce the special guest commentator for this match. Steve Solex!

Joe Hoffman: Oh, not again.

Benny Newell:  Yes….I seem to recall a certain other stable sure had a lot of time here at the desk but now when THE BEST special guests are here…..you complain. Good ol Joe Petty showing his colors.

Joe Hoffman:  I will ignore that……Let’s just hope he doesn’t bring out another guest like last week!

Avenged Sevefold’s “This Means War” begins to play throughout the arena and out from behind the curtain steps Steve Solex.  The fans erupt in a chorus of boos as the Best Alliance member marches at a steady pace toward the ring.  Solex makes his way around the ring and takes up his position in the commentary booth.

Steve Solex:  What’s up, Hofftits?

Joe Hoffman:  (sigh) Hello Steve. We going to talk about earlier tonight at all or nah?

Steve Solex:  Better check your tone, Hoffman.  Focus on the here and now. Laser motherfucking focus.

Benny Newell:   FOCUS JOE PETTY….FOCUS!

“Doozy” by Token begins to play throughout the arena as Doozer makes his way out from behind the curtain.

Brian McVay:  Introducing first!

Doozer darts down the entrance ramp, his jorts and kneepads are a blur as he slides into the ring under the bottom rope.

Brian McVay:  He hails from Boston, Massachusetts.  He weighs in at two-hundred-seventy-three-pound and stands six-feet-three-inches.  Representing the Best Alliance.  DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZERRRRRRRRRR!

Doozer finds a place in the corner and leans up against the turnbuckle, both arms extended out wide, grasping the top rope. The lights go out and a dual-spotlight makes an encircling pattern on the entrance area as the opening riff of the song plays. When the riff audio kicks it up a notch, Dan Ryan steps out and pauses, looking into the audience, then heads down the aisle as pyro blasts behind him. 

Brian McVay: And his partner!  He stands six-feet-seven-inches tall and weighs in at three-hundred-five pounds.  He is the ICON Champion!  This is….DAAAAAAANNNNNNNNN RRRRRRRRRRRRRYYYYYYYAANNNNNNN!!!!!

The video shows clips from his career: power bombing Bobby Dean, super kicking Andy Murray, taking MJ Flair’s head off with a clothesline, hitting Perfection with the Headliner, countering a Jack Harmen dive into a vicious power slam, smirking as he pins Doozer, standing on a balcony looking down at Andy Murray with a sinister grin on his face. Ryan walks directly to the ring, rolls in under the bottom rope, and climbs the nearest turnbuckle, keeping his arms down and smirking into the crowd as the music plays.

Joe Hoffman:  Quite the plethora of championships in this match tonight.  The ICON Champion, a Tag Team Champion and the World Champion.

Benny Newell:  Can it, Hoffnuts.

The music fades as Dan Ryan hops down to the mat.  He casually hops around but out of nowhere, he darts across the ring and absolutely flattens Doozer into the corner with a running clothesline.

Joe Hoffman:  Wait…what the hell?!

Dan Ryan doesn’t relent and plants a stiff boot into Doozer’s stomach, doubling him over.  Ryan places Doozer into position for a powerbomb, and hoists him high up into the air.  The crowd goes ballistic as a look of terror comes over the face of Doozer.

Joe Hoffman:  Oh, no!  Not again!

Benny Newell: Murder!

Dan Ryan, with Doozer held up high in position, runs toward the ropes and sends Doozer crashing into the barricade.  A sickening crash from the back of Doozer’s head and neck colliding with the barricade results in a collective gasp and total silence from the normally blood-thirsty HOW crowd.

Joe Hoffman:  Powerbomb onto the barrier!  Just like he did to Scott Stevens, Dan Ryan has absolutely destroyed Doozer!

Dan Ryan leans over the top rope and spits a fat wad of snot and spit onto Doozer.

Dan Ryan:  Don’t you fuckin’ move!

Joe Hoffman:  Can we get some EMT’s out here!? 

Steve Solex:  He’ll be alright.

Joe Hoffman: That’s your Best Alliance teammate, Solex.  Are you just going to sit there and do nothing?

Solex just leans back in his chair and places his hands behind his head.  Just then…

“I WANT IT ALL!”   ”I WANT IT ALL!”   “I WANT IT ALL!”   ”AND I WANT IT NOW!”   

Brian McVay:  Introducing his opponent!

Brian McVay’s voice is shaky as can be as Dan Ryan menacingly paces the ring behind him. Pyrotechnics explode at the top of the ramp as “I Want It All” by Queen blares across the arena.  Emerging from the curtain being followed by his hulking, disfigured bodyguard/employee Hugo Scorpio, is Jatt Starr.  

Brian McVay:  Representing the Best Alliance.  He stands six-feet-tall and weighs in at two-hundred-twenty-five-pounds.  He is one half of the HOW Tag Team Champions and a HOW Hall of Famer.  Please welcome…..JAAAAAAAAAATTTTTTTTT  STTTTTAAAAARRRRRRR!!!

The Ruler of Jattlantis smugly walks down the ramp carrying a walking cane with a weighted spherical head which has an inscription that reads “Mr. Whacky”. Jatt Starr hands Hugo his cane, “Mister Whacky,” walks up to the ring, but stops just short.  The music fades as Jatt Starr stays outside of the ring and waits for the World Champion.

Benny Newell:  Bask in the glory of the Ruler of Jattlantis, Hoffhole!

The silent pause is deafening as the crowd anticipates the entrance of…

 

HALLLLLLELUJAH! 

 

HALLLLLLELUJAH! 

 

HALLELUJAH! HALLELUJAH! 

 

HALLEEEEEEEELUJAH! 

 

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

Brian McVay:  And his partner.  He stands six-feet-one-inches tall and weighs in at two-hundred-thirty-five pounds.  He is a HOW Hall of Famer and the current HOW World Champion.  Please welcome….The SON of GOD….MIIIIIIIIIIIIIIKKKKKKKKKEEEEEEEE BBBBBBBEESSSSSSSSSSSTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!

The always polarizing wrestling veteran steps out slowly onto the stage, making his way toward the ramp. He holds the HOW World Championship into the air on the stage, staring out into the crowd as he bobs his head to the sweet jams of his own entrance music. As he saunters toward the ring, Mike makes a big show of making sure the camera gets a good zoomed in shot as he flips the bird, displaying his Hall of Fame ring prominently. He approaches the apron and stops short of it, standing next to his partner.

Benny Newell:  That’s two fucking Hall of Famers right there, Hoffhole!  Soak it up!  This is the best thing we’ve seen in ages!  Other than Scott Stevens getting murdered last week, that is!

Joe Hoffman:  And Doozer has still not received any medical attention!  And Steve Solex is just sitting here while his….friend(?)….is possibly paralyzed and unconscious on the floor. This is crazy-town!

Steve Solex:  Wait, what happened?

Joe Hoffman: (sighs) Back to the ring!

Just then, the opening riff of “Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap” by AC/DC echoes throughout the arena and John Sektor steps out from behind the curtain…wearing a striped referee shirt.

Steve Solex: YES!

Joe Hoffman:  This is too much!

Benny Newell:  (high pitched and shrieking) If you’re havin’ trouble with the high school head!!!!

Joe Hoffman:  (scoffs) Thank you Benny.

Benny Newell:  (high pitched and shrieking) He’s givin’ you the blues!!!!

The smirk on Mike Best’s face is legendary as he peeks back over his shoulder looking up the entrance ramp.  Jatt Starr’s grin stretches from ear to ear, but his 

Brian McVay:  And the special guest referee!  Representing the Best Alliance, he is one half of the Tag Team Champions and a HOW Hall of Famer!  Please welcome, John Sektor!

Dan Ryan is incensed in the ring. He grabs Brian McVay by the tie and demands answers, but Brian McVay can only point to the index cards in his hand and the earpiece that dangles from his shirt.

Joe Hoffman:  Dan Ryan is irate, and I can’t blame him.  The odds have been greatly stacked against him here tonight.

Steve Solex:  Well, Hofftits.  He had a fuckin’ tag team partner up until a few minutes ago!

Joe Hoffman:  You know good and well, Doozer…

Benny Newell:  DRINK!  Three Hall of Famers in the ring at one time!  I might need to change my shorts, Hoffman.

Joe Hoffman:  Christ.

Both Mike Best and Jatt Starr climb up onto the apron at the same time as Brian McVay quickly scrambles out of the ring.  Jatt Starr sits on the second rope and props the top rope up with his shoulder as the other half of the Tag Team Champions, John Sektor climbs up onto the apron.  He bows in thanks to Jatt Starr, nods toward Mike Best, and climbs into the ring to a chorus of boos.

Joe Hoffman:  Dan Ryan gets right into John Sektor’s face!

Dan Ryan:  You better do the right fuckin’ thing, Sektor!  I’m not in the fuckin’ mood!

Sektor holds two hands up.

John Sektor:  Hey, take it easy.

Dan Ryan walks backward into his corner as both Jatt Starr and Mike Best enter the ring.  Ryan keeps a deadlocked stare into the eyes of John Sektor as he leans back into the turnbuckle.

Benny Newell:  I always knew Dan Ryan was scared of John Sektor.  Did you see how quickly he backed down?

Joe Hoffman:  Can it, Benny.  He clearly just wanted to say…

Steve Solex:  Can it? What the fuck, Hofftwit?  Take a chill pill, and watch your language.  This is a family show!

Benny Newell:  You’re goddamned right it is! DRINK!

Mike Best and Jatt Starr converse briefly in the corner, and it appears that they have decided that Jatt Starr will be the first to compete in the matchup.

DING! DING! DING!

John Sektor calls for the bell, and almost simultaneously Dan Ryan darts across the ring and goes after Jatt Starr.  But Starr saw him coming and quickly rolls under the bottom rope and out of the ring as the crowd goes ballistic with boos.   Sektor, acting as a referee, stops Ryan from exiting the ring as well.  Dan Ryan does his best to get by the special guest referee, but to no avail.  Jatt Starr mocks the ICON Champion from the outside floor with a couple of balled fists twisting at the eyes.  Dan Ryan, doesn’t fall for it, however, and backs up cautiously taking direction of the Sektor.  Before Sektor can begin any kind of count, Starr hops up onto the apron and enters the ring.

Joe Hoffman:  A slow start here.  Jatt Starr is looking to play some mind games with Dan Ryan.

Steve Solex:  Mind games my ass.  Dan Ryan attacking before the match even started.

Joe Hoffman:  Sure thing, Steve.

Benny Newell:  Shut the fuck up, Hofflips.  DRINK!

John Sektor waves a finger in Jatt Starr’s face, giving some kind of fake warning about exiting the ring.  Jatt Starr acts compliant, but the look on both of their faces tells the whole story.  Ryan and Starr begin to circle one another. Dan Ryan clenches his teeth, and shoots for a single leg.  He captures the leg, but doesn’t quite finish the tackle.  He holds Starr’s leg high enough to teeter the Hall of Famer backward, and into the corner.  Starr attempts to hold his position, but Dan Ryan yanks on the leg and pulls Starr out of the corner and right into a thunderous clothesline that makes Mike Best cringe on the outside.

Joe Hoffman:  What a clothesline from Dan Ryan!  This thing might be over!

Steve Solex:  Shut the fuc…

 

1!

 

 

 

 

2!

 

 

 

 

Joe Hoffman:  Shoulder up just before the count of freaking thirty!

Benny Newell:  What are you saying, Hoffnuts?

Joe Hoffman:  That had to have been the slowest count we’ve seen since Steve Solex was a guest referee.

Steve Solex:  Keep my name outta’ your mouth, Hoffsack.

Dan Ryan is visibly upset at the length of the count, but he bites his lip and keeps it in.  He knows that he’s outnumbered as it is, and pissing Sektor off is that last thing he wants in the middle of this match.  He lifts Starr to his feet, and lands a couple of stiff right hands.  Starr is forced back against the ropes, and Dan Ryan whips Starr against the ropes and buries him into the mat with a devastating spine buster.

Joe Hoffman:  Dan Ryan put all 300 pounds into that one!

Dan Ryan springs up to his feet and flashes a middle finger at Starr before securing both feet by the ankles and driving a boot down low into Jatt’s groin.

Benny Newell:  Call for the bell John!  That shit was low!

Steve Solex:  Don’t question John Sektor, Benny.  He knows what he’s doing.

Benny Newell:  Right you are, Steve.

Jatt Starr squirms around the ring in agony, clutching at his groin.  Dan Ryan stomps over to the World Champion, and gives him an up and down before flashing a middle finger in his face as well. Mike Best attempts to get into the ring, but John Sektor is quick to get in between the two men.

Steve Solex:  Dan Ryan better watch, the World Champ will kill him.  He killed his own brother, so chances are he wouldn’t think twice about killing Dan Ryan.  I don’t remember John Sektor doing a pat down before this match started.

Benny Newell: KILL! DRINK!

Dan Ryan turns his attention back to Jatt Starr.

Benny Newell: FALLING STARR!  YES!

Steve Solex:  Oh, it’s over!  Count the three Sektor!

Jatt Starr however, doesn’t go for the cover and instead poses to the crowd.  He paces a circle around the ring with his arms out to either side, soaking in the boos from the audience.

Joe Hoffman:  Jatt Starr better pay attention to Dan Ryan!

 

 

Joe Hoffman:  Dan Ryan’s got him!  Belly-to-back Suplex!!!

Dan Ryan cinched a tight hold from behind Jatt Starr and slammed the Hall of Famer right onto the back of his head and neck in the middle of the ring.  But he can’t muster the strength to make the cover.  Both men struggle to get to their feet, but John Sektor makes no signal of starting a count to ten.

Benny Newell:  I really don’t think Dan Ryan has executed on legal wrestling move since this match started.

Steve Solex:  Have some faith, Benny.

Joe Hoffman:  And don’t forget that Doozer is still unconscious outside of the ring, and has YET TO RECEIVE MEDICAL ATTENTION!!!

Steve Solex:  Chill the fuck out, you hyperactive shithead.

Benny Newell: Easy, Steve.  The Hoffinator might lose his cool over there.

Joe Hoffman:  Back to the action!

Both men struggle to their feet, but it’s Dan Ryan who gets their first.  Ryan throws a huge right hook that connects with the side of Starr’s face, and sends him flat on his back once again.  Ryan hits the ropes and drops a knee across Jatt Starr’s forehead.  Out of instinct alone, Jatt Starr springs forward and climbs to his feet.  He goes for a tag, but he’s disoriented and is looking in the wrong corner.

Steve Solex:  Mike Best is in the wrong corner!

Joe Hoffman:  Uh, no he’s not.

Steve Solex:  Whatever corner Jatt is looking for a tag in….that’s the right corner, Hoffslit.

Joe Hoffman:  Um. Yeah.  Back to the action.

Jatt Starr gives up searching, and instead rests backward into the corner.  Unbeknownst to him, Dan Ryan has been stalking him this enter time.

Joe Hoffman:  Running spear right into the mid section of Jatt Starr!  And repeated shoulder thrusts for good measure!

Benny Newell:  Illegal.  All of this is fucking illegal.  DRINK!

After a few shoulder thrusts to Jatt Starr, Dan Ryan whips Starr across the ring and straight into the opposite turnbuckle.

Joe Hoffman:  Corner Avalanche from Dan Ryan!

Dan Ryan backs away allowing Jatt Starr to stumble out of the corner, and immediately Dan Ryan hoists him into the air with a gorilla press.

Steve Solex:  Get out!  Squirm! Zig! Zag!  Let’s go Jatt!

Even with all the encouragement from Steve Solex, Jatt Starr could not get free and was ferociously slammed down on the mat. Dan Ryan plants a boot into Jatt’s chest for good measure, and then drops an elbow right across his heart.

Steve Solex:  What’s that?!

Joe Hoffman:  If you’re gonna talk to the production truck, please mute yourself Solex.  Amateur.

Steve Solex: Shut the fuck up, Hoffhole.  I’m getting word from the back to…

Joe Hoffman:  To what?

Solex rips his headset off and runs to Doozer, who is still unconscious…or at least not moving.

Joe Hoffman:  Finally, we’ll get some medical attention out here for Doozer!

Benny Newell:  I wouldn’t count on it, Hoffhole.  Solex is doing his Weekend at Zeb’s impression…but this time it’s Weekend at Doozer’s!

Joe Hoffman: Oh, crap.

Solex walks Dooze to the apron and carefully props him up in his legal corner.  Dan Ryan, seeing the ongoings, charges after Solex…but Solex drops from the mat just in time.

Joe Hoffman:  Oh, what a smashing forearm from Jatt Starr!  Right into the back of Dan Ryan’s head!

Dan Ryan crumbles to a knee, and Jatt Starr whips him into the corner where Doozer is hunched over the rope.  Starr follows up with a running clothesline, and then a sharp right hand.  Starr takes Doozer’s hand and….

Joe Hoffman:  Doozer tags in?

Benny Newell:  Yeah he did!

Solex cheers from the outside of the ring, and Sektor makes the tag signal.

Joe Hoffman:  Doozer is now the legal man!  What is going on here!?

Dan Ryan has no clear understanding of the situation at hand and fights his way out of the corner with a couple of right hands that send Jatt Starr backward.  Dan Ryan attempts to whip Jatt Starr into the opposite corner but Starr reverses it.

Joe Hoffman:  Dan Ryan just hit the World Champion with a flying forearm smash!  Both the ICON Champion and the World Champion are on the outside of the ring, and they’re going at it!

Both Dan Ryan and Mike Best trade punch after punch with one another, eventually going over the barricade and into the crowd.  They both jump to their feet and continue to trade punches as the blood-thirsty crowd reclaims their violent reputation by cheering the two champions on.

Joe Hoffman:  Steve Solex just shoved Doozer into the ring!

Benny Newell: Doozer fell into the ring, Hoffhole!  John Sektor’s integrity is beyond reproach and he would never stand for such tom-foolery!

Joe Hoffman:  You’ve been spending far too much time with Sgt. Dad!

Benny Newell:  Not possible! DRINK!

Doozer falls into the ring, thanks to a Solex shove, and stumbles aimlessly around the ring.

Benny Newell:  Falling Star!! The second of the match!

Joe Hoffman:  Jatt Starr makes the cover on Doozer, and Sektor is immediately their for the count!

1!  2!  3!

Joe Hoffman:  Quick count!  But Doozer is clearly out.  And Mike Best and Dan Ryan are still fighting in the crowd!

Benny Newell:  It’s fuckin’ pandemonium Hoffhole!

Joe Hoffman:  It really is!!!

“I Want it All” by Queen begins to play as Jatt Starr, John Sektor and Steve Solex all stand in the center of the ring with their arms raised.  Dan Ryan and Mike Best fight their way through the crowd and into the back and out of sight as the lower third displays on the screen as the credits hit the screen.

BONUS SEGMENT

The show’s feed jolts back to life and picks up in the parking lot of the Best Arena. More specifically, the feed is staring down the dimly lit, ominous, designated alleyway used by medical personnel in the event of a catastrophic emergency. The alley way, better known as the Dan Ryan Exit, is called such because the people leaving that way have been sent there by Dan, and is usually full of traffic.

Suddenly, but more so expectedly, in the distance an ambulance turns the corner onto the designated alley. The way it’s emergency lights flash not only illuminate the night, but also deem them seizure-inducing worthy. Also of note, the ambulance’s siren is howling quite the blightful tune. 

As the ambulance zooms closer and closer, and the lights get flashier and brighter, and the siren gets howlier and blightfullier…

…a double yolk from Eggland’s Best soars gracefully through the thin, windy, Chicago air.

Then.

A single, solitary, pin drop of a crack.

SPLAT~!

The emergency vehicle does not stop, but keeps on going into the great wide open. And COOL Hand Jiles, the thrower of eggs, is revealed. He’s standing perched above the road somehow. A besieged look covers his face even though he hit his target.

Jiles: Good luck and goodbye Dooze….. you poor old bastard. 

He spits.

Jiles: Maybe next time I’ll be able to see you when opportunity is knocking.

Cut.

World Championship Match
Dan Ryan ©vs. Michael Lee Best©

LSD Championship Match
Steve Harrison vs. Hughie Freeman

Singles Match
Steve Solex vs. Joe Bergmen

Singles Match
Conor Fuse vs. Scottywood

LSD Championship Match
Lindsay Troy© vs. Jatt Starr

Singles Match
High Flyer vs. John Sektor