Refueled XVI

Deacon defeated Black Mamba in 2:15 after the 7′ 320lb monster was able to overpower the HOW veteran early and often and then finished him off with his Altar Call crucifix power bomb finisher. Another three points for Deacon has him squarely in 2nd place in the Embosser group as he chases HOW rookie Teddy Palmer.

Brian Hollywood defeated Buck Yates in 2:05 after a super kick to the chin of Yates knocked out possibly the last of the man’s teeth. Hollywood’s time at the 5 Time Academy served him well here and gained him three big points as he tries to catch the leader of his group and another HOW rookie…Alex Redding.

Warrick Hill defeated Austin Reeves in 2 minutes flat as his flying forearm finisher, The Joint, found the mark early in the match and took out the proven brawler in Reeves. Hill jumps to the top of the DeNucci group with six points. Impressive start for yet another HOW rookie.

Teddy Palmer defeated Chris Kostoff in 7:22 as the HOW rookie was able to take down the HOW Hall of Famer with his Last Call running knee strike after reversing his way out of Kostoff’s famed No Remorse power bomb finisher and then nailing the big man with a kick to the back of Kostoff’s knee, dropping him, before securing his win with his own finisher. The crowd was firmly behind Palmer with the win as the Chicago faithful also gave Kostoff an ovation out of respect as the big man slowly made his way to the back. Palmer, now is the clear leader in the Embosser group with nine points and a 3-0 record.

The HOTv logo gives way and we are once again live inside the All State Arena. There are clearly some empty seats in the arena as its apparent that some folks just didn’t show up for this show……but the show must go on and seeing as this is the 400th High Octane Wrestling show on High Octane Television…..well those that didn’t show up today…..will regret it.

We cut to Bryan McVay who is standing in the ring as the bell rings three times to announce the first televised match up of the evening.

Bryan McVay: The following contest is a match scheduled for the 2020 Lee Best Invitations and is scheduled for…..ONE FALL!

Joe Hoffman: Welcome everyone to HOW 400!!! We have literally four main events tonight as the LBI continues on. First up is the battle of the undefeated contenders in the Narcotic Group of the bracket and everything is at stake, Benny. According to my sources at Stevenspedia, both Alex Redding and Steve Solex are fighting for their undefeated streak in the tournament.

Benny Newell: God, you’re starting to use Stevenspedia? What happened to using good old fashion books and tapes. Dear God, you’re annoying! There’s 3 points on the line for the winner of this match, and all you do is quote a source that’s editable online…

Joe Hoffman: That’s Wikipedia…

Benny Newell: Same difference, right?

Joe Hoffman: I swear sometimes you’re just downright a mean drunk!

The slick and sleazy opening riff of ‘Love Spreads’ by the Stone Roses hits the PA. The HOW faithful give a tentative reaction to the guy that overcame Hollywood in his first outing. We’re well into the open, and damn near the lyrics before a confident Grady Patrick, dressed impeccably and under his trademark bowler’s cap, strides forth. He’s breathing in the environment, and letting disappointment paint his face. He walks forward a-ways before pointing to the stage. Alexander Redding saunters forward, offering only a slide-glance to the paying public. The garish grin of the Joker splashed on the left leg of his MMA long shorts catches the eye before panning up to the Stone Temple Pilots tee. With a look that tells you all given-fucks could fit a thimble, he strides ringside.

Bryan McVay: Introducing first, from Kitchener, Ontario, Canada… The Willing Villain… ALEXANDER! REDDIIIINGG!

Reaching ringside, Red takes a lap around, ignoring the outreached hands, then slides in. He’s immediately to the ref for a short conversation/bullying session. Taking his place in a friendly corner, he lifts the tee off and drops the shirt to the floor. He rolls his neck, looking ready for this fight.

Immediately following the cord: “Cats in the Cradle” by Harry Chapin begins to play through the sound system as the words “#1 Dad” display on the HOV. The words dissolve and a montage of Steven Solex is shown playing on the HOV as Steven Solex steps out from behind the curtain and onto the entrance ramp. He’s dribbling a soccer ball down the entrance ramp as the crowd boos unceremoniously. Solex begins to make his way down the ramp and toward the ring, but takes a few laps just dribbling his soccer ball around the ring a few times..

Bryan McVay: Introducing second, his opponent for the evening…from Huntington Beach, California; he’s HOW’s #1 Dad in the WOOOOOOOOOORLD…..STEEEEEVEN SOOOOOOLEX!

With his right hand and the soccer ball in his left , Steven holds a number one high up in the air, with the biggest, cheesiest of smiles on his face. Solex rolls under the bottom rope and into the ring as the crowd continues to boo. Solex goes camera side and again hoists a number one high in the air, but this time shouts out “#1 Dad!.” Solex goes to the corner, and double knots his all white new balance shoes as he makes his way towards Alex Redding. Grady gets in Solex’s face screaming at him as Solex begins to pull some quick footwork with the soccer ball. Grady finally gets annoyed enough he steals the soccer ball from Solex and tosses it towards Redding to headbutts it straight into Grady’s hands. Grady confidently tosses the soccer ball into Solex’s chest as Redding gloats towards the crowd. As Redding takes his eyes off the prize, Solex chucks the soccer ball straight into the back of Redding’s head and Grady rushes out as Matt Boettcher calls for the bell and Solex begins stomping at the back of Redding’s neck.

Benny Newell: How dare Redding abuse his father like that. Stealing Solex’s spotlight. That’s HOW’s #1 Dad right there. That’s not right!

Joe Hoffman: Mind games immediately afoot in this Narcotic Group match up. Redding definitely didn’t see Solex giving him a spanking….

Benny Newell: Wait what?

The camera cuts back to the ring with Solex grabbing Redding by the trunks and spanking him for taking his spotlight. He pulls Redding to his feet by his ear. Solex gives Redding a stern talking to about respect. Redding then slaps Solex across the face. Solex shakes it off and clenches his fist up. He grabs Redding’s nose as the crowd boos at what’s about to happen next. Solex screams out loud as Redding’s selling the fear like he’s about to lose his nose.

Benny Newell: Don’t do it! Don’t do it, Solex! Don’t take his nose.

Solex rips back “taking” Redding’s nose off as he grabs his face in fear. Solex winds up and immediately punches him stiffly in the face as Redding goes down to the ground.

Benny Newell: Redding is deformed now. He’s the only man in HOW to not have his nose any more.

Joe Hoffman: Lay off the Jack and call this match, Benny!

Solex picks Redding off the ground and nails a stiff DDT to the mat. Boettcher counts to 1 as Redding puts his foot on the ropes. Redding’s had enough of Solex’s shenanigans. As Solex comes charging towards him Red hits him with the Running Discuss Lariat screaming “MEH SHAAAAADDUP!” at the top of his lungs. Redding’s not out to be fathered. He hits the Grady Special too as Grady screams at Redding to keep on Solex. He picks Solex up and hits the Arn Spinebuster to form in the ring as he gloats to a chorus of boos.

Joe Hoffman: Stiff spinebuster to Solex after that. He’s making it well known he wants this win.

Benny Newell: That’s no way to treat your dad, Hoffman. I know you had Daddy issues at home. But that doesn’t mean you have to abuse him like Redding is doing here. Solex has back issues. He has to father and carry all these kids on his back. You should know.

Joe Hoffman: This is a wrestling match, Newell. Both men have to win here to move on.

Benny Newell: I know that, the audience knows that, but have some compassion, man. Think of all children at home without a father like Solex. If Redding kills him; they’ll be orphans like you!

Redding starts to charge at Solex with the MEH! SHADDUP! However, this time Solex stops him in his place and throws his arms up. Solex throws his arms up like he’s surrendering. He walks up to Redding to shake his hand, but looks confused. He points to Redding’s chest and Redding looks down, but Solex quickly hits his patented FINGER POKE OF DAD!

Benny Newell: YEEEEEES! Solex got him. Redding is reeling after that!!!

Joe Hoffman: OUCH! Right straight into By Gosh! By Golly! The Clothesline from Heck! Boettcher’s got the count….

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!!!!!

Joe Hoffman: HOLY SHIT! Grady got Redding’s foot straight on the rope right in the nick of time.

Benny Newell: Dammit! I wanted to have a drink with my Dad after that one.

Joe Hoffman: Solex is still not your dad!

Solex gets pissed off and quickly chases Grady around the ring. Solex grabs Grady by his coat before Redding slides under the ring, grabs him and hits a rolling heel kick to the back of Solex’s head. Redding takes Solex and tosses him straight into the ring post head first and rolls Solex back into the ring. He suplexes Solex into the corner and rushes at him with a cannonball splash. Grady screams at Redding to cover him and Boetcher makes the count:

ONE!

TWO!

THREEE!!!!!!!

Joe Hoffman: Rope break by Solex this time! These men are one upping each other in this first round tournament match up.

Redding is frustrated and starts to yell at Boettcher for his slow counting. Solex slowly comes to his feet with his face completely red. He’s not fucking around anymore. Redding turns around and Solex grabs Redding with a lethal bear hug. He grips it tightly and Boettcher gets close to the 5 count, but Solex launches Redding with a stiff Belly to Belly Suplex. Redding stumbles up, but Solex quickly hits a Snap German Suplex. He keeps stomping a mudhole into Redding’s gut. Solex then grabs Redding and hits a plant DDT stiffly into the mat. Solex goes to cover Redding, but Grady has Boettcher’s attention. He’s screaming to check out Redding who is lying lifeless on the ground. Solex shrugged his shoulders as he’s had enough of this. He motions towards his elbow Redding leaps straight onto the second rope and unleashes a hellacious Super Belly to Belly Suplex off the top rope and Boettcher hears it and sees both men down. He begins the ten count.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

FOUR!

FIVE!

SIX!

SEVEN!

EIGHT!

NINE!

Both men make it back to their feet in desperation at what’s at stake. Solex wipes his mustache and Redding wipes his forehead as both men exchange blows in the center of the ring giving it their all. Solex whips Redding into the ropes, but both collide at each other with simple clotheslines taking each other down. Adrenaline pushes both men back up and we get a suplex reversal session in the middle of this ring.

Joe Hoffman: Solex and Redding are giving it their all. Both men desperately want the win for the Narcotic Group today. I’ve never seen such tenacity from two men in this ring in a long time.

Benny Newell: Both know that the shot at the HOW World Championship is on the line tonight. While I have my favorites, this chaos in this ring makes this opening match exciting tonight.

Solex finally capitalizes when Redding tries to go outside trying to hit the corkscrew moonsault. Solex grabs Redding and hits a mean Suplex to the inside stiffly slamming Redding to his back. Solex tosses Redding into the corner and hits vicious shoulder tackles to his gut as sweat pours down his head from exhaustion.

Benny Newell: That’s HOW’s dad giving it his all for the kids. He’s such a great example.

Joe Hoffman: Solex has got Redding on the edge right now. He’s setting him up on the top rope right now.

Benny Newell: He’s trying to hit that Superplex on Redding and….

Joe Hoffman: Holy Shit! Redding’s playing possum! He’s out weaseled Solex! He kicked him off the top turnbuckle.

Benny Newell: Let go of Dad’s hand! Solex kick him away!

But it’s too late, Redding quickly grabs Solex’s hand and runs the ropewalk faster than anyone before him. Without any hesitation or reaction; he hits a vicious, and hellacious, and ugly Red Dead, snapping Solex’s neck right off the mat, hitting chin first, knocking him out. Redding quickly covers Solex and grabs his leg as Boettcher makes the count….

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!!!!!

DING! DING! DING! DING!

Bryan McVay: Here is your winner of the match: ALLLLLLLLEX REDDDDDING!

Grady rushes the ring celebrating with Redding over putting away Solex, no easy feat. Both men gloat and yell at Boettcher for trying to screw around with them as they gloat continuously towards the crowd as Redding makes a victory lap around the arena with Solex lying in the ring motionless.

Benny Newell: DAAAAAD! WAKE UP! HAVE SOME OF MY JACK! IT’LL SAVE YOU!

Joe Hoffman: Redding secures the 3 points for victory and takes the top standing in the Narcotic Group. Hell of a kid, quick witted.

Benny Newell: SOLEX WAKE UP!

Joe Hoffman: I’ll take over for Benny’s drunk emotional issues right now. I’ll give it to Solex, dude put up one helluva fight. Both men gave it their all tonight in this ring. But Redding secured the victory and had his hand raised at the end of the night in our emotional first match.

Benny Newell: I’ve got to drink away this pain, Joe. It was heartbreaking for sure. Redding has that fire, but Solex, man, he’s a good role model, someone we all can look up to and I am sure this hellacious LBI has got more action in store for us tonight.

Joe Hoffman: Darn straight, Benny! Let’s take it over to another talented individual in the LBI tournament: Rick Dickulous!

We fade to our next segment with Rick Dickulous as Redding continues to celebrate his win.

Back live from commercial and we back to the HOF announce team as the arena is still buzzing from the footage of Lee inside the Roman Coliseum.

Joe Hoffman: Welcome back folks….Later on tonight we’ve got the LSD title match between the champion Max Kael and Joe Bergman. Blaire Moise spent a little time with the challenger and his manager slash trainer Dawn McGill in Missouri last week to talk about his return to action and this is what she found out.

Cut to the HOTv that runs the taped interview.

Blaire is outdoors in rural Missouri standing next to a roaring bonfire on a cold February day. The camera then brings Joe Bergman’s wife Laura into the picture.

Blaire Moise: How is Joe doing?

Laura Bergman: What do you mean?

Blaire Moise: He took a tremendous amount of punishment at Rumble at the Rock. I’ve watched a couple of his dark matches he’s wrestled since then and he still doesn’t seem to be a hundred percent yet.

Laura Bergman: Yeah. That match against Farthington and Ryan took a lot out of him physically…and mentally. So once the doctor’s cleared him to resume training, Joe and I had a sit down talk about determining how we should go about it. I thought we needed to go back to basics and what worked at the beginning. For me, that meant one thing- going to Dawn McGill and seeing if I convince her to come back and start training him again.

Blaire Moise: What does Dawn McGill bring to the table that someone else couldn’t?

Laura Bergman: Easy. She knows how to cut through the bullshit and bring clarity to any situation. She knows Joe’s wrestling style inside and out. She knows what works for Joe and what doesn’t work. Dawn can get him to stop worrying about trying to be the good guy, the face wrestler and all that baggage that comes along with it and just go out to the ring and wrestle the damn match.

Blaire Moise: And apparently, she’s pretty handy with a steel folding chair too.

Cue a quick video clip of McGill hopping the rail and blasting Brenton Cross three times with a steel folding chair last week at Refueled XV.

Laura Bergman: Yeah, she is.

Cut to a little later on where Joe Bergman and Dawn McGill have joined the conversation. Joe’s shirt is caked with mud, no- dripping with mud. McGill and Blaire try to keep a little distance from him.

Blaire Moise: Joe, you told me during your time away that you figured a few things out.

Joe Bergman: Yeah. I know who I am. Two star wrestler in a company of megastars . . . legends. What my superpower seems to be is- I’m there. If I’m booked to wrestle, you know that Joe Bergman will be there and you are going to get one hundred percent – max effort – from him. Because that’s what I do week in and week out.

Blaire Moise: You’ve got a LSD title match coming up at Refueled XVI against Max Kael. In single’s action, you are one and one against him. What do you think of your chances?

Joe Bergman: Max’s match with High Flyer at ICONIC was just. . . wow. But that’s what Max does. That’s what Max has done throughout his HOW career. HOW Hall of Famer- he deserves all the respect in the world. All the window dressing, he’s still one hell of a wrestler. The fact he wears the LSD title around his waist tells you everything that you need to know about Max Kael the wrestler. It’s going to be a challenge. It’s going to be a battle. Max didn’t make the same mistake he made in the first match the second time we met and I don’t expect him to do so on Saturday February 15^th when we meet.

Cut to: Blaire Moise backstage at the Allstate Arena.

Blaire Moise: We were sent the following You Tube video of Joe Bergman at a local tavern the other night and this is what he had to say to his supporters there.

The HOTv fires up again.

(YOU TUBE VIDEO- Filmed at the North End Tavern in DeSoto, Missouri)
Not the greatest picture (taken from a cell phone) but Joe is standing up on a chair talking.

Joe Bergman: …working day and night with Dawn McGill cracking the whip to make sure I stay focused on the things I need to be doing, training like hell to be in the best possible shape and best possible frame of mind come Saturday night – here I am. Last week, I defeated a pretty good wrestler in Brenton Cross. This Saturday night in Chicago, I’ll arrive at the arena to punch the clock just like many of you do every day – ready to work- ready to do what I have to do to succeed. If I defeat Max Saturday night, it won’t just be my victory, it’ll be OUR victory.
(END VIDEO)

Cut to Section 214 of the Allstate Arena. The camera scans the section and finds some familiar faces from HOW’s past who are here tonight to commemorate the 400^th show. There’s former World Champion, 2 time ICON champion and LSD champion ‘Tin Cup’ Ray McAvay and his wife Dark (aka one half of Dark and Stormy- McAvay’s stripper friends who used to accompany him to the ring). Other members of McAvay’s Les Miserables sit close by including HOW’s former chief sanitation engineer Bert the Janitor. Also on hand, former LSD champion Dawn McGill (who also works with Joe Bergman now) and her husband Jackson C. Horne. And of course, The Sunshine God Rah and his entourage: Happy Mango, Bob Nye-Foot Fetish Guy, and the BronzeBeach Bikini Suntan team are also seated in Section 214.

The HOV fades to black as the video ends…..and another one begins….

Rick Dickulous sits at a merch table in the lobby, bottles of Tree Blood are stacked neatly on the table along with various photos of Rick, clearly meant for autographs.

A small crowd surrounds his booth, clearly enthralled by his pitch:

“…and today only, I’m giving all you loyal High Octane Wrestling fans an amazing two for one deal! You’ll get TWO bottles of my fantastic Tree Blood syrup for the price of ONE! Give one to your best bud, eh?!”

A low rumble of chatter begins from the dozen fans surrounding his booth.

“BUT WAIT! There’s more!”

Rick does his best to mimic Billy Mays with his delivery, his infectious smile seeming to draw the crowd in with anticipation.

“If you take advantage of this special deal, I’ll ALSO give you a signed print of yours truly as a free gift! That’s a five dollar value, guy!”

Again the crowd rumbles to life, a few stragglers joining the group as Rick continues.

“So that’s TWO bottles of Tree Blood, AND an autographed print for the low price of TWELVE dollars and NINETY NINE cents!”

He gestures to the front of the table with his meaty hand as a few people line up, digging in their pockets for a mix of bills and change.

One steps forward, a little old lady who places her purse up on the table, digging in it for her change purse. She begins digging in it methodically, her voice shaking a little.

“You sure are kicking some butt, Richard! I can’t wait to give Betty at the nursing home this second bottle!”

“Well that’s fantastic, ma’am! I hope Betty will love it as much as you!”

She smiles sweetly across the table at Rick, slowly dropping some change on the table and counting it as she continues.

“Betty will love this syrup, and she loves how you flip over the other guys – she keeps trying to see up that kilt of yours!”

She chuckles as she continues counting, her change, sliding it across the table “…and that’s seven dollars, and twenty five, and fifty…”

Rick chuckles awkwardly, collecting the change as she continues.

“I’m looking forward to a couple of things though, Richard…besides your lovely syrup in my mouth….”

Rick cringes.

“I’m really looking forward to you beating the pants off of that Alex Redding, I mean, not literally unfortunately, but a girl can dream right?”

Again she chuckles, this time Rick interjects.

“Now ma’am, let’s keep this PG here…there may be kids around! I can assure you my intentions are very much to hand Alex a big L. I guarantee you it ain’t gonna be easy though…”

“You just treat him like that Buck Yates, and you’ll beat his ass like a rented mule!”

She finally reaches eleven dollars, Rick’s earlier smile replaced with a clearly forced smile as he collects her money.

“Y’know what I’m looking forward to most? That autographed picture! I love your smile, it always makes my heart glow, Richard!”

“Look, I’m not gonna lie ma’am, I’m not really into GILFs, if that’s what this is all about…”

Again he awkwardly chuckles as he grabs a silver marker, waiting for her to tell him what to write. He gave her an almost exasperated look, hand poised to write.

“What are GILFs, Richard? Is that some naughty toilet talk all you youngsters are into?”

Rick blinks across the table at her, then looks down at the picture, and back to her.

“What’s your name, ma’am? So we can finish this incredibly awkward transaction?”

“Make it out to Violet. Dear Violet, always look back and smile, especially when times are bumpy and the road is rough…love, Richard.”

Rick writes as she talks, signing his name in bold strokes quickly, passing the picture across to the lady and reaching for two bottles of Tree Blood. He sets them in front of her and slides them towards her.

“Oh, thank you, Richard! Now I’ll have something to hang above my bed! I’ll see it every morning when I wake up….”

She winks exaggeratedly at Rick.

“…and every night before I go to bed!”

Rick gags as he waves his hands in front of him, clearly trying to cut it short as the scene fades to black for our first commercial break.

Lee Best finalized all the arena details today in Rome and the first promotional pictures have been released. March to Glory will have it ALL on the line.

Recorded earlier…

The lights in the arena dim as the HOV lights up with the words “Leave it to Stever” appear on the screen. The god-awful 1950’s television theme music plays throughout the arena as the crowd erupts in a chorus of boos. The letters quickly fade, and the scene on the HOV transitions to Steven Solex seated behind an old wooden desk. Steven is outfitted in his a “#1 Dad” ballcap, and a freshly ironed plain white t-shirt. Steven sits leaned over the desk, propping himself up with his elbows. As the music fades, Steven relaxes his posture and sits back into the red-leather chair that. Steven kicks his feet up onto the desk and flaunts a white envelope to the camera.

Steven: Welcome, once again to the highest rated segment on High Octane Wrestling’s Refueled. Leave it to Stever!

The crowd erupts in boos, as Steven pauses for applause. Steven, playing it cool, laughs as if the crowd is on his side.

Steven: Our first letter today is from Theodore in Toronto!

The crowd continues to boo as Steven quickly skims the letter.

Steven: Theodore asks, “Steven, when attending my son’s hockey games,” cause he’s Canadian, “the other parents are constantly bragging about their children and always putting them over big time. I feel like I should do the same thing, but it makes me a little uncomfortable to do so while my son is out there with his finger stuck up his nose. Any advice?”

Steven folds the letter, places it back inside of the envelope and shakes his head as he throws the envelope behind him and out of view.

Steven: Theodore, the answer here is totally obvious. What you should do is, brag about how good you were in high school! One of the great TV fathers of my generation was the great Al Bundy, and anytime someone questioned his manhood he would always mention how he threw four touchdown passes in one again at Polk High. Everyone loves it when Dad’s talk about how great they were in “their day.” This is sure to win you some fans in the bleachers at your kid’s next game.

Steven laughs as the crowd continues to boo relentlessly. Steven takes another letter from the pile and removes it from the envelope. Again, he quickly skims the letter before reading it aloud.

Steven: Our next letter comes from Alexander…also out of Canada! Alexander asks, “Steven, my son is always wearing jeans that are riddled with holes in them. It’s distracting and really gets under my skin. What can I do to get him to wear normal clothes?”

Steven folds the letter and places it back in the envelope before tossing it behind him.

Steven: Alexander, holy jeans are definitely annoying, and they sure don’t look good. I would start with a doozy of a statement, “I hope you didn’t pay full price for those jeans.” Because, well, they have holes in them. Surely, this will cause a huge eye roll. If that one doesn’t work, I’d ask him…”Why are you wearing your holy jeans? It’s not even Sunday?” This one is sure to get a reaction. A key element to this is to ask him in front of his friends. A few times, and he’s sure to stop wearing those jeans!

The crowd boos as Steven dispose of the letter behind him.

Steven: Well folks, that’s all the time we have this week. Until next week, ladies and gentleman. My name is Steven Solex and this has been another Leave it to Stever!

The crowd boos wildly as Steven waves to the camera as the HOV fades to black as we head to a commercial break.

Back live and we cut to the announcers as its time for our next match in the Lee Best Invitational.

Joe Hoffman: I can’t believe I’m saying this, but our second match of the evening is a GOD Group match between Hall of Famer Michael Lee Best… and dynastic young blue chipper Mariella Jade Flair.

Benny Newell: You’re goddamned right, Joe. This match would headline any pay-per-view in the fucking world, and you’re getting it in the second fuckin’ match of #HOW400 That’s the level of competition in this fucking company. Tell me about your shitty fed that puts people into their Hall of Fame after six months, dickheads– High Octane Wrestling is the fucking final boss of pro wrestling and you douchebags are still getting Game Overs on world 1-1.

Joe Hoffman: While I agree with you in spirit, Benny, you’re awfully aggressive for such a proud night in HOW. You got some things you need to hash out, buddy?

Benny Newell: There’s notging to hash out. Don’t contact me again.

Joe Hoffman: Notging?

Benny Newell: Leave it alone, dickhead. I have a drinking problem.

The lights dim as the beginning of “Goodnight” by The Birthday Massacre begins to build. MJ Flair walks out with purpose, stopping right at the top of the ramp for just a moment before she heads to the ring. A few outstretched hands are slapped, but for the most part, she remains focused. MJ takes a lap around the ring to greet another handful of fans.

Joe Hoffman: This match is must-win for MJF. A loss for MJ Flair here tonight means that she is officially eliminated from the group stage of the Lee Best Invitational, after hard losses to both Dan Ryan and “High Flyer” Jack Harmen in the previous weeks.

Benny Newell: And make no mistake, she’s gonna lose, Joe. The Son of God had Lindsay Troy right where he wanted her last week– he only lost that match because he wanted to. He wanted to stay fresh for the rest of the LBI. STRATEGY.

Joe Hoffman: Well that “strategy”– and I use that word loosely– has put Mike Best isn’t an equally must-win situation here tonight. Having already taken a loss to Lindsay Troy, the only way he can win the Lee Best Invitational is by winning the remainder of his matches. And even if he does? Lindsay Troy still has to lose both of her remaining matches.

Benny Newell: Whatever. He said he doesn’t care about the LBI anymore anyway. And we all know that you can trust everything that Mike Best says. Ask him, he’ll tell you.

After meeting with the fans, she stops closest to the far ringpost. In one fluid motion, she climbs from the floor to the top turnbuckle on the outside of the ring, raising her hands while encouraging as much noise from the fans as possible. As she climbs down from the turnbuckle, her music gradually fades away, and she takes her corner.

“Personal Jesus” by Depeche Mode slaps fucking bass over the sound system, it’s sweet opening riffs heralding the arrival of the SON OF GOD, Michael Lee Best. The always polarizing wrestling veteran steps out slowly onto the stage, with referee Rick Stevens walking just behind him and the unsanctioned HOFC Championship over his shoulder– much like last week, his knee is severely braced for tonight’s match, and he’s trying to hide his limp as he makes his way down to the ring.

Joe Hoffman: Last week on Refueled, Michael Best aggravated an existing injury to his knee, while attempting to execute Lindsay Troy’s own “Raynes of Castamere” in their LBI matchup. The impact of that knee against the steel ringpost arguably cost him the match, and it appears that it may hinder him here tonight as well.

Benny Newell: If you think his knee looks bad, you should see the chair that he kicked to injure it in the first place. I heard it’s still in critical condition.

Joe Hoffman: We’re still pretending that Mike Best kicked a chair, and didn’t receive a kneebar from Lindsay Troy while dressed as El Hombre Blanco?

Benny Newell: No Joe, we’re not pretending anything. You saw ICONIC. Mike Best was completely unphased by that kneebar when she tried to use it against him.

Joe Hoffman: I think you mean “unfazed”, Benny.

Benny Newell: They sound the same, how do you even know I said it wrong?

Michael carefully approaches the apron, rolling under the bottom rope and hobbling to his feet in the ring. Rick Stevens steps into the ring behind him, staying back a few paces as Michael makes his way to Matt Boettcher, looking annoyed. The two begin to argue, quietly but talking a lot with their hands, as Rick Stevens crosses his arms, looking a little bit uncomfortable.

Joe Hoffman: Well, the word from the top is that Michael Best used his 2% stake in HOW to make Rick Stevens the referee for this match. I’m also told that Lee Best plans to address that 2% ownership next week, on the next edition of Refueled.

Benny Newell: Matt Boettcher is biased against the eMpire. He should be officiating their matches in the first place, Joe. This is just righting a wrong.

Joe Hoffman: Matt Boettcher is HOW’s senior official, and has a pristine record of not putting up with cheating, enforcing the rules, and ensuring fair competitions, Benny!

Benny Newell: Yeah, like I said, he’s biased against the eMpire.

After an uncomfortably long argument, Boettcher shakes his head and washes his hands of the whole thing. He’s put up with a lot of the eMpire over the last few weeks, and he leaves the ring with a chip on his shoulder as Rick Stevens takes his place in the middle of the ring. Rick signals for the bell, and the match officially begins.

DING DING DING

Off the opening bell, Mike Best immediately drops to his back, rolling out of the ring, much to the chagrin of the fans. Rick Stevens opens his mouth to start the ten count, but is quickly met by MJF yelling back: “No countouts!” The crowd boos as he rolls out of the ring, but they turn to cheers as Rick Stevens complies with her request and does not start counting. This is familiar territory after last week’s match against Lindsay Troy, and MJF ain’t going out like that.

MJ Flair gets a running start and immediately launches into a baseball slide, connecting directly with the side of Mike Best’s head! The Son of God is knocked into the guardrail as the fans roar their approval, but MJ Flair isn’t done. She finishes her slide out of the ring, pounding the back of Mike Best’s head with forearms as he tries to get back up off of the guardrail!

Joe Hoffman: Mariella Flair has the momentum, and this match is underway! Mike Best is rocked, and she’s not letting up on the assault! MJF has full control!

Benny Newell: She weighs a buck thirty, Joe. How much damage is she gonna do with those forearms? MIKE BEST IS UNPHASED.

Joe Hoffman: Unfazed.

Benny Newell: STOP.

While Benny is exaggerating, he’s not entirely wrong– from the pure size difference, Michael Best is mostly able to shrug off the forearms. They keep him staggered, but he shoves the smaller Flair backward into the apron, trying to get some balance on his injured knee.

Best shoves off the guardrail and lunges for his opponent, but the younger, faster MJF gets out of the way, sending him barreling into the ring apron! Again, she begins to pepper him with forearms to the back and skull, trying to wear him down slowly.

The eyes of Mike Best are filled with anger, as he again shoves MJF backward. This time, she rolls along the floor and pops back up to her feet, smirking at the unsanctioned HOFC Champion. Thinking quickly, MJ Flair snatches a chair up from ringside, walking back toward Mike Best and rearing back like she’s thinking about smashing him with it. The crowd is buzzing, as fans in the front row urge the young wrestler not to get herself disqualified.

But she doesn’t— instead, with a smirk, MJF tosses the chair at Michael’s feet. Almost in defiance, she dares him to pick it up.

MJF: You wanna hurt me? Hurt me!

Michael stares down at the chair, and then back up at Mariella Jade Flair. His jaw tightens, as he reaches down and picks the weapon up off the floor.

MJF: Come on, dude! Come on, Offbrand Eric Dane! Thought you were gonna “beat the fucking shit out of me”?

Michael rears back with the chair, fire in his eyes, and the crowd’s buzz grows even louder– they don’t wanna see MJ get hurt, but they’re excited at seeing her about to win this match. At the last second, though, Michael lets out a guttural half-sigh, half-roar, and throws the chair aside.

Joe Hoffman: MJ Flair dangerously close to getting what she asked for, Benny. She’d have won the match, but at what cost?

Benny Newell: Did… did she just manipulate the Son of God? There might be hope for that kid yet. Shades of young Ryan Phase, that one.

Joe Hoffman: Okay, now you’re just screwing with me.

As the chair collides with the guardrail, Michael reaches out to grab hold of MJ Flair, but the cocky young wrestler is too quick for him– she sweeps around the side of Mike Best, wrapping up his leg and sending him face first to the concrete with a drop toe hold! He lands hard on his knee as well, and he desperately grabs for the ring stairs, hoping to pull himself up quickly.

MJF sees the opportunity, and takes off running toward the Son of God. She launches into the air, throwing a foot down onto Best’s head, and curb stomps him directly into the steel steps! Michael explodes sideways, rolling into the guardrail and holding his head, his legs wildly kicking.

Joe Hoffman: HOLY HELL! That looks like it may have killed him!

Benny Newell: We’re only on the Third Coming, Joe– I assume Mike Best is some kind of a cat, and he still has six more lives. Tis but a scratch.

Now fully riding her momentum, MJ Flair picks Mike Best up off the ground and rolls him back into the ring. She leaves him lying in the corner, half conscious as the crowd begins to buzz– they know what’s coming.

MJF marches to the opposite side of the ring, quickly ascending the top turnbuckle and putting her arms up in the air. The crowd is on their feet, cell phones in the air, as she takes off from the top, sailing all the way across the ring, coast to coast with outstretched legs!

Joe Hoffman: Check your bags, get your boarding passes, it’s time for AIR FLAIR!

Benny Newell: That’s the dumbest fucking call of your career.

Joe Hoffman: That can’t possibly be true.

Benny Newell: Haaaaa self-burn.

Flair sails through the skies, legs ready to collide, but at the last second, Mike Best rolls out of the way, bailing out of the ring! Mariella’s outstretched legs sail into the ringpost, tangling her legs up in the turnbuckle as a desperate Mike Best barely avoids certain doom, putting his hands on his hips outside of the ring! The momentum is sucked from the arena, and now Mike Best eyes the chair he’s tossed aside– he picks it up, sliding the chair into the ring as the murmurs begin amongst the fans.

The Son of God rolls back into the ring, picking up the chair as he stares down at MJF. Rick Stevens steps in, urging him not to do it, as the referee will have no choice but to issue a disqualification– it was one thing to call “no count outs”, but this oversteps the bounds of an HOW referee.

Suddenly, he tosses the chair to the side.

MJ Flair is recovering from the fall, but before she can untangle herself from the ropes, Michael Best grabs her by the arm, violently yanking her clean from the wreckage and pulling her to the middle of the ring. He drops down to a knee, holding her by the hair, as he brings a meaty fist down against her skull. Rick Stevens warns him about the closed fists, but he keeps right on punching anyway– one, after another, after another.

Stevens begins to count.

1!

2!

3!

4!

Michael pulls his hands free, as Flair struggles to cover up. The pure strength difference between them is staggering, and trickles of blood run down the forehead of MJF from being struck so deliberately. She wipes the blood away from her face, turning over to push herself to her feet, but now Michael Lee Best takes her back– his years of MMA training kick in on instinct, as he mounts her from behind and begins striking the back of her head with savage elbows, driving her face into the mat.

Joe Hoffman: Jesus Christ, someone stop this! Call for the bell!

Benny Newell: By what, dickhead? Submission? This is fucking legal. Only way this ends now is by KNOCKOUT. This dumb bitch played with fire, and now she’s gonna burn.

At the top of the ramp, Lindsay Troy emerges from behind the curtain. She’s staring down at the ring, clearly wanting to get involved, but the match is still going on– none of this is against the rules. Not wanting to get MJF disqualified, Lindsay can only watch as Mike Best smashes another brutal elbow into the back of MJ’s head.

Even with the hundred plus pound size difference, MJ Flair begins to drag herself across the ring, leaving a streak of crimson on the mat beneath her. She’s trying to make it to the ropes, as elbow after elbow gouge into the back of her head. The fans are in a fucking frenzy, begging MJ to make it to the ropes, as she desperately inches her way toward freedom.

Lindsay looks anxious at the top of the ramp, swallowing hard as she watches it play out.

She reaches out an arm, struggling to get to the ropes, but her fingers slip just shy. The trickle of blood on her forehead has become a river, her eyes a mess of crimson as she reaches out one last time…

But her hand falls short, dropping motionless to the canvas.

Joe Hoffman: Oh my God.

Benny Newell: Jesus fuck, he killed her.

The arena quiets, as Michael Best drives one last elbow into the back of her head, finally satiated. Rick Stevens looks concerned, as he leans in and tests her arm. He lifts it off the canvas, but it drops unceremoniously back to the mat. He has no choice but to call for the bell, with the crowd in a stunned silence.

DING DING DING

Michael stands up from the canvas, pushing Mariella Jade Flair over with his boot and showing his handiwork to the world. MJ Flair is still struggling to regain consciousness, and her face isn’t a pretty sight.

Bryan McVay: Here is your winner, by knockout… Michael… Lee… BEEEEEESSSST!

Her face is a mask of blood and bruises, but Michael doesn’t appear to be done. The Son of God picks up the discarded steel chair that is still laying in the ring, standing over MJF with rage in his eyes.

Benny Newell: Yes… do it… DO IT!

Joe Hoffman: BUT HERE COMES LINDSAY TROY!

Now that the match is over, the Queen of the Ring beelines for Mike Best, sprinting down the ramp and looking to avenge both tonight’s attack and the attack last week on Refueled. Mike sees her coming, though, and drops the chair where he stands. He bails out of the ring, snatching the HOFC Championship up and jumping the guardrail, disappearing into the crowd– he looks back only to flip a middle finger back at the ring, before disappearing into the sea of fans.

LT slides into the ring, immediately rushing to MJ Flair to check on her status. She is slowly coming to, and immediately the young talent begins arguing with Rick Stevens, telling him that she could have continued the match. Medics make their way into the ring, trying to get her onto a stretcher after the beating that she just took, but Flair pulls away, falling backwards to the mat before sliding under the bottom rope on the opposite side, refusing medical attention.

Troy quickly leaves the ring to confront her about getting some help, but Flair shrugs her off and nearly loses her balance a second time, slowly making her way back up the ramp, alone.

Lindsay Troy stands at ringside, irritated. She shakes his head in disbelief, as #HOW400 cuts away.

We cut backstage to find a perplexed Warrick Hill. He stands over an HOW employee, cloaked in nothing more than a towel. His hair is wet, dangling. His body glistens from a fresh shower. His right hand holds a tooth brush, lubed pretty fucking thick with paste.

Warrick Hill: The fuck is a dark match?

HOW Employee: A preliminary match.

Warrick Hill: I mean, I saw lights on in the arena.

HOW Employee: No, it’s not a LITERAL dark match. It’s just a term for matches that don’t air on TV.

Warrick is aghast at this revelation.

Warrick Hill: Why the hell wasn’t I on TV?

HOW Employee: There’s only so much TV time for Refueled. Only the marquee matches are aired.

This doesn’t make Warrick feel any better. He steps forward, snatching the employee by the hair.

HOW Employee: Please! Mr. Hill! It wasn’t my call!

Warrick eyes the tiny man, in comparison to his own, personal size. He decides the guy is telling the truth.

Warrick Hill: Well, you are wearing a pretty generic HOW shirt. So, yea, my guess is you have no real authority.

Warrick releases the man. Never in that guy’s life had he been so happy to have such a mediocre job.

Warrick Hill: But whose fault is this, anyway? This is fucking egregious! I’m money, bro!

HOW Employee: Uh, well, I…

It’s clear the employee doesn’t want to make life for him, in HOW, any more difficult. Warrick starts brushing his teeth, keeping a vigilant eye on the employee, waiting for an answer.

HOW Employee: Austin Reeves?

Warrick Hill: I knew it!

Tooth paste flies everywhere…slapping the employee in the face.

Warrick Hill: That fucking guy is so damn vanilla that he brought my 10 factor down to, like, a five! FUCKING AUSTIN REEVES

The employee casually wipes toothpaste away from his face.

HOW Employee: Well, it is what it is…good news is your match next week should be a featured contest.

Warrick Hill: Am I facing some twitter legend?

Warrick chuckles.

HOW Employee: No…you should know who you’re facing…it’s…

Warrick eyes the man, slowly resuming the brushing of his teeth.

HOW Employee: Never mind. You’re facing Joe Bergman. He is taking on the LSD Champion Max….

Warrick Hill: LSD? They have a title for drugs?

HOW Employee: Not exactly it’s…well, if Bergman wins, I can have someone fill you in on the details.

Warrick Hill: Good call. That dark match wore me out. I’m too tired to learn anything new tonight.

Warrick casually spits a mouth full of paste and saliva onto the locker room floor.

HOW Employee: Regardless, he’s facing Kael tonight. The winner will, likely, be your biggest competition in taking the DeNucci division.

Warrick Hill: Well I don’t know who this DeNucci guy is or was…but I’m not going to let some guy named Joe dash my hopes of pissing off the entire roster by winning the LBI.

HOW Employee: I guess that’s the spirit.

Warrick Hill: Damn right. Now, I’m going to get totally naked. You can stick around if you want.

HOW Employee: I’ll see myself out.

Warrick Hill: Later.

We cut elsewhere we hear that Blair Moise is looking to secure an interview….

CUTTO the backstage, with a shaky camera keeping pace with a power walking Blaire Moise. She looks as if she’s running in heels, trying to balance speed with… well… balance.

Blaire Moise: We’re trying to catch up with MJ Flair, who has been walking the halls backstage since her match with Mike Best concluded. She was instructed to report immediately to the medical area, but so far has refused to do so.

The camera pans forward to show the former LSD Champion from behind, walking slowly and deliberately down the hall, bracing herself on the wall. From this angle, we can now see that there are a long series of bloody handprints on the wall behind the cameraman that were previously out of sight. The floor also shows a trail of breadcrumbs leading us to this point.

If bread crumbs were made of drops of blood, that is.

Blaire Moise: Ms. Flair! Ms. Flair?

She stops. MJ turns her head, still leaning on the wall, and looks towards the journalist and camera, and Blaire can’t help but to gasp. Blood has saturated MJ’s hair, which is where the drips on the floor come from. Her face is covered in blood, and her eyes are wild, yet still vacant.

Blaire Moise: How are you feeling?

No reaction. MJ seems to consider this for a moment. She looks at Blaire, and then at the cameraman, then back to Blaire, before she turns around fully, showing off the extent of her crimson mask and blood-stained T-shirt.

MJF: How’m I feelin’? How’re you feelin’, man?

Blaire Moise: ..I mean, I–

MJ holds up a hand.

MJF: No. Shut up. You don’t talk. You report. We act. You react. How I’m fucking feeling is fucking ecstasy.

And she directs her attention to the camera.

MJF: Mike. Ya got me.

She makes a big show of applauding, but the unintended consequence is Blaire Moise behind her, flinching at every slap of the hands as blood sprays in her face.

MJF: I’ll give credit where it’s due, man. Ya saw a shot, and ya took it. That’s how ya win battles.

The smile fades from her face, and she looks deadly serious into the camera.

MJF: But this is a war, Mike… and ya gonna have ta kill me ta stop me.

She points off camera.

MJF: And as we just fucking saw… you can’t stop me.

Blaire Moise: Do you hold the referee responsible for the outcome of the match? You weren’t pinned and you didn’t submit, but he called the match—

MJ silences her with her hand in her face, curled into a fist with the exception of her thumb and index finger, giving the generally accepted sign of ‘I’m not done.’ Of course, this also sprayed more blood into Blaire’s face.

MJF: No. The referee should not have stopped that match, but I don’t blame him. He’s doin’ a job, just like anyone else. But he was wrong. But it’s cool.

She roughly grabs the camera lens and angles it at her face. The blood is still flowing freely.

MJF: Mike Best. I have not won a match all on my own since I pinned Scottywood after War Games. Since then, it’s been disappointment after disappointment after disappointment, with tonight being the cruelest cut of all. Because I wanted ta keep on fightin’. But it’s cool. We’ll do this again.

MJ’s face curls into a sinister – some would say insane – grin.

MJF: Ain’t nothing more dangerous than someone with nothing left ta lose.

The camera is shoved away, hitting the floor as we suddenly cut away to a commercial break.

High Octane Radio begins at 10:30pm CST as we are joined by the current World Champion and the GOD of HOW to celebrate #HOW400

Joe Hoffman: Welcome back and we are now ready for the first of two title matches tonight as Max Kael defends his LSD Title against Joe Bergman,

Benny Newell: Inside a steel fucking cage too!

Joe Hoffman: Yes, as we just learned earlier today as Lee and Scotty seem to wanna keep both eMpire and Joe’s friends from MVW out of this high profile match.

Joe Hoffman: Ya, like fucking Dawn McGill.

The steel cage starts to lower from the ceiling as Hortega and the ring crew secure it into place.

The Call’s “Let the Day Begin” plays over the loudspeaker.

Joe Bergman walks out on the ramp. He pumps his first in the air and then starts down the ramp towards the ring.

Bryan McVay: The following match is for the HOW LSD Championship. First, hailing from St. Louis, Missouri and weighing in tonight at one hundred ninety-five pounds. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you – ORDINARY JOE BERGMAN!

“Here’s to the teachers in the crowded rooms
Here’s to the workers in the fields
Here’s to the preachers of the sacred words
Here’s to the drivers at the wheel…”

He slap people’s hands along the way.

“Here’s to you
My little loves with blessings from above
Now let the day begin…”

Joe continues on to greet the fans along the way.

“…Here’s to you
My little loves with blessings from above
Now let the day begin
let the day begin
let the day…start!

He reaches the ring area and continues to greet people around the front row and then climbs up on the ring steps and enters the steel cage as he looks around and nods his head.

The music then cuts to Emperor Palpatine’s theme… the epic dark side mix as the crowd roars as the flag of North Kaelrea appears on the High Octane Vision as the North Kaelrean General appears at the top of the stage.

Bryan McVay: And his opponent… hailing from North Kaelrea and weighing in at 230 lbs…..he is the HOW LSD Champion…..MAX! KAEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLL!

Max makes his way down the ramp and gets into the steel cage. The champion’s eye does not leave Bergman as he stomps his way to the center before standing at attention. Kael unfastens his title before thrusting it high into the air as he does the North Kaelrean salute as the crowd says…

Crowd: LONG MAY HE MAIM!

Hortega calls for the bell as Bergman charges the champion as he tackles Max to the ground and sends the LSD Title into the cage wall. Bergman starts throwing rights at max’s good eye as Max fends off Bergman and knees him below the belt.

Benny Newell: Three points for Max!

Joe Hoffman: With this being a steel cage match now… it is no disqualification and Max quickly takes advantage of that.

Bergman rolls off Max, clutching his nether regions as Max shakes off the early attack and gets back up to his feet. Max drives his boot into the head of Bergman as he grabs him and pulls him back to his feet and rams him face first into the steel cage. Bergman bounces off the steel and falls back to the mat as Max goes over to the door to try and escape the cage…. But the door is locked shut as referee Rick Stevens on the outside tells Max he doesn’t have a key.

Joe Hoffman: I’m just getting in from my headset that Scott Woodson has said the escape from this match can only happen over the top.

Benny Newell: That’s bullshit!

Joe Hoffman: Seems that they didn’t want any risk of people getting into that cage tonight.

Max turns away from Stevens as he grabs the LSD title which is still in the ring and stalks Bergman who is starting to climb back to his feet. Max swings for the steel cage fences as Bergman ducks at the last moment. Bergman hits the ropes and flys back at Max with a flying lariat. Max staggers back up to his feet and right into a spray of green mist from Bergman.

Joe Hoffman: Green Mist!!!

Benny Newell: Someone get Max some eye wash!

Max is stunned as Bergman grabs Kael and locks in a Dragon Sleeper. The crowd is roaring as Max quickly starts to blindly struggle as Bergman wrenches the hold in.

Joe Hoffman: Bergman looking to put Max to sleep….

Again Max goes downstairs as he kicks his leg back into the groin of Bergman to break the hold. He turns to Bergman as nails a stiff right hook as he then whips Bergman hard into the corner. Max drives his shoulder into Bergman’s gut as he then grabs Bergman and flips him upside into a tree of woe. Making sure to lock Bergma’s foot in the top turnbuckle, Max springboards off the second rope and drives his elbow straight into the balls of Bergman for a third time tonight.

Joe Hoffman: Max taking aim at the family jewels of Bergman as he has him tied up in the corner.

Benny Newell: No get out of there Max!

Max starts to climb the same turnbuckle that Bergman is hanging in as he makes sure to take another crotch shot with the boot as he pulls him self up on the top of the cage. Max goes to swing his leg up onto the top of the cage but it is stopped by the hand of Bergman. Having sat up in the turnbuckle, Bergman pulls Max back down as he starts hammering at the leg of max.

Joe Hoffman: Bergman still taking it to Max despite the multiple low blows that the LSD champ has delivered tonight.

Max jumps off the top turnbuckle and lands on the mat as he goes to grab Bergman’s head for a reverses neck breaker off the top rope.

Joe Hoffman: Bergman holds onto the cage!

Max hits the mat hard as Bergman stands up on the top rope and leaps off at Max who is standing back up and nails a perfect hurricaranna as Bergman quickly goes for the cover…

UNO….

DOS……….

Max kicks out as Bergman hammers a couple of shots back at Max who counters with a head butt with his metal eye patch. Bergman staggers up to his feet and away as the patch cuts him good. Max gets back up as he grabs Bergman and spins him around for a second headbutt. Grabbing Bergman he pulls him in and connects a inverted shoulder jawbreaker.

Benny Newel: WMD!!!!

Joe Hoffman: Bergman staggers back and falls into the far corner.

Not wanting to waste the time to pull Bergman back into the middle of the ring, Max backes his way to the opposite corner and starts to climb the steel cage. He pulls himself up to the top rope as he grabs the top of the cage and starts to pull himself up more. Max swings his leg up over the top of the cage as the crowd roars. But the roars aren’t for Max… they are for Bergman who has climbed back up to his feet.

Joe Hoffman: Bergman is up… can Max get to the floor though!

Benny Newell: Jump Max! Jump!

Bergman charges towards the cage wall and leaps up onto the top rope and spring boards up to grabs Max’s leg before he can swing the other over. Bergman pulls himself up onto the top of the cage as the two men now start to trade punches. Bergman get two straight in as he grabs Max’s head and tries to throw him back down to the ring.

Benny Newell: NOOOOOO!!!

Joe Hoffman: Max grabs the cage!

Saving himself Max comes back and headbutts Bergman with his eye patch as more blood starts to pour down his face. Max now grabs Bergman’s head…

Benny Newell: YESSSS!!!!!

Joe Hoffman: RED MIST!!!!!!

Bergman sprays Max with a red mist…. Or it may be blood… we can’t tell as Max clutches his eye and Bergman goes to swing his other leg over the cage wall.

Benny Newell: Max grabs the leg!!!

Instinctively Max is able to grab the leg as he slams it back down into the cage wall and follows through with another viscious headbut that nearly knocks Bergman out as Max pushes him off the top of the steel cage and Bergman lands hard on the mat below.

Benny Newell: Down goes Bergman!

Joe Hoffman: What a vicious fall…. Bergman may be broken in half.

Max carefully swings his leg over the cage wall as he nearly falls himself as he can barely see. He takes two steps down the side of the cage and just lets go as he falls down to the outside floor.

DING DING DING

Benny Newell: He’s done it!!!!

Bryan McVay: The winner of this match… and STILL HOW LSD CHAMPION…. MAX KAEL!!!!!

Joe Hoffman: Hell of a battle by Bergman tonight… but Max just pulled it out of the bag here… albeit questionable ways… but still legal in this steel cage match.

Benny Newell: In the end Max is still LSD champ… and with the three points he secured… that is all that matters.

Stevens hands Max the LSD title as he just lays on the outside floor, barely able to move as the steel cage starts to rise and medics rush to check on both Max and Bergman.

Joe Hoffman: Well we still have an ICON Title match to come tonight in the main event… and they will have a high bar to set here after a hell of an LSD Title match here on the 400th HOW show of the last two eras. Stay tuned folks!

Benny Newell: MAX KAEL!!!!!! LONG MAY HE MAIM!!!

The action cuts backstage as the show continues……

Backstage we go as we come to another semi darkened portion of the arena as Hollywood comes into frame. He looks calm, collected and finally at peace after a basically hitting rock bottom. It was a long look up from Hollywood’s point of view…and he knew that. Yet, somehow, the man was at peace with where he was at. It was quite the moment of shock as we continue to see many surprising moments from Hollywood that we normally wouldn’t see. Hollywood comes into frame as he looks directly into the camera as he takes a moment to reflect on #HOW400.

Brian Hollywood: It’s been a crazy ride…the last nine years here in HOW. I’ve been at the very top and the very bottom…and even caught in the middle of my time in HOW. Here we are at HOW400 and I find myself on the bottom looking very high towards the tip top of the mountain. It’s a different time in HOW for me…I’ve come a long way from where I was at nine years ago…yes. However, I find myself in familiar territory and unfamiliar territory. Let me explain. The familiarity of it all is being at the bottom. That part is clearly the obvious fact. But the unfamiliar part of it this time around is that I’ve basically abandoned all my comforts of luxury and fame in order to drive home the seriousness of how much this company means to me.

Brian Hollywood: HOW has always had a special place in my heart…it always has and always will be. However, the seriousness of my claim is just how much I’m willing to bet the farm on my own statements. People have always questioned my meaningfulness of my words. I’ve always been a man to describe anything with my words…everyone knows that. However, I’ve also backed my talk with my own actions. But this time…my actions had to be extreme in talking about how far I was willing to go to win HOW Championship gold. That’s why I left Hollywood Enterprises…that’s why I left my limo and my mansion..my life of luxury to really drive home just how much this means to me…just how much HOW means to me…and now everyone can have a front row seat in how serious I am in this regard. After my last couple of losses, I could have easily said fuck it and went back to the life of luxury. I could have done that in a fucking heartbeat!….but I fucking didn’t! I decided to press on this difficult journey because I wanted it to be authentic! I wanted it to be real! I wanted it to fucking MEAN SOMETHING! No one is used to this Hollywood…not even yours truly…but this is something that I feel I HAVE TO DO! This is important to me and I know there are going to be bumps in the road….and speaking of bumps in the road..

Hollywood pauses momentarily as he takes a deep breath and surprisingly keeps his cool on what happened with his match earlier on in the night. Hollywood continues to surprise with his demeanor as of late and it continues to be something we are far used to seeing with him. Hollywood takes another breathe and closes his eyes before he discusses the events earlier on in the night.

Brian Hollywood: Here we are on #HOW400 and I’m in a dark match…an LBI match that is supposed to carry weight on the road to March to Glory and here I am having a DARK match against Buck Yates.

Hollywood pauses again as you can tell he bites his tongue instead of just shooting his mouth off repulsively. Hollywood shakes his head before he continues to speak again.

Brian Hollywood: Dark match, live match or main event…the results spoke for themselves. It was STILL a fucking LBI match and it was a match that I NEEDED desperately! It was a result that even though wasn’t on live TV, was momentum that I seriously needed…it doesn’t matter though because as long as this momentum continues…as long as this newfound luck and hard work continues to produce positive results…it doesn’t even matter if it’s a dark match or live….the road still leads to March to Glory and a HOW World Championship opportunity. I know one loss is all it takes to derail that road…but with a little luck on the other side…and a winning sweep the rest of the way…hope still remains and I haven’t lost sight of that fact. It’s why I’ve chosen to remain calm and not succumb to my old habits and lifestyle and to stick to this road clearly and determinately. It’s why I will continue to fight forward and to fight on my own march to glory. Only I am the master of my own destiny. Everyone knows what destiny has provided for me in the past….it won my two HOW World Championships and all the singles championships in one night in HOW history. Now I am here. We all miss a step and fall a long ways to the bottom. It’s the natural order of things…especially in HOW. HOW has and will ALWAYS be competitive no matter where you turn. That’s what I love most about this business and that’s what I love most as we hit 400 HOW strong. And that’s why I’ve made the changes I’ve made and I’m not done yet! That’s why I’ve put aside some bitter rivalries and my pride in order to make myself better even if that satisfies a man who has always had my number. Everyone knows who that man is and that man knows who he is as we’ve had actual adult conversations…peaceful conversations if you can possibly imagine…it’s called growing and being able to adapt and better yourself…no matter how much your pride might get in the way. It’s how you evolve and how you get to the finish line…and as we go into the future…you all are going to see just what that relationship will be. I know you all would just love to hear about it…but in time…it will present itself when it’s ready to….just as well as we will present it when it’s ready to be presented…but in the meantime…just sit back and enjoy the ride because this thing is just getting started!

Hollywood pauses momentarily as a small, rare smile, crosses his face. Content continues to be predominate with Hollywood as this newfound awareness and side of him continues to surprise…even himself. Hollywood nods slowly before he says one more thing..

Brian Hollywood: It’s only up from here! #HOW400 is merely the beginning and here’s to 400 more…and maybe…just maybe…#HOW400 isn’t quite done surprising you! I know as sure as hell am not! The road to redemption…continues!

Hollywood shoots one last cryptic smirk before he walks off down the quiet hallway as Refueled cuts away backstage

It’s late and the main event is looming.

Two sole gladiators inhabit the Industry’s locker room: one-half of the last match’s competitors and the challenger for the ICON championship, and the current points leader for the Group of Death. This is either a different room within the Allstate Arena, or the venue was sufficiently compensated and its crew able to replace all the damage Dan Ryan caused from his ragefit post-Refueled 14.

Jack Harmen sits on a chair, clenched fist obscuring his mouth. His head is hung low, and only his good side is showing. He says nothing, but a single crack of his knuckles echoes. Worry is masked behind determination, moments before heading into the big clash with the Ego Buster. Dan’s off prepping on his own and MJ – per usual lately – is nowhere to be found, either pre- or post-match. Lindsay Troy is posted up against the wall, keeping an eye on Flyer, and annoyed with not being able to get down to the ring fast enough to help MJ Flair after her loss and Mike Best’s post-match assault.

Butterfly bandages adorn her head near her hairline, reminders of her match against Mike ended the week before. Two chairshots, two weeks in a row. Usually it was LT doling them out, which earned her the nickname of Chairwoman many years ago. Now it’s Mike hitting with them hard, and heavy. These are beginning to become routine, and that’s not a good thing.

LT eyes Harmen, noting his posture, his willingness to conceal half his face. It’s not the Jack she’s known for over a decade. And, it’s not the Jack that’s going to help him survive this match against Dan.

Lindsay Troy: You never used to be so shy about your battle scars.

Flyer looks up toward Troy, his bad eye exposed. Bloodshot, bruised orbital socket, healing hasn’t come quickly or easily for a man who keeps pushing himself into the ring. He tries to find the words but just starts shaking his head subtly from side to side.

High Flyer: I don’t like this.

Lindsay Troy: Like, what? Us all fighting each other?

Flyer stands up, taking a towel off his shoulder and rubbing it over his face, and then up to dry his wet stringy hair.

High Flyer: Best. Getting what he wants. Ryan, thinking we make him weak. MJ… doing whatever it is she’s doing lately. That there’s something bigger in play, beyond the LBI, I just can’t put my finger on it.

Troy frowns, chews the inside of her mouth. Thinks back to her run-in with Julian Bathory and Bruce Shanahan right before Refueled 15. It was unsettling then, to see them pop back up. The churning in her stomach hasn’t ceased since; she’s only had a headache to add on top of it.

Lindsay Troy: It’s growing pains. All this isn’t new behavior for Dan. You and I have sniped at each almost as much as we’ve been on the same page. MJ hasn’t had to learn a hard lesson yet, although you’d think someone would’ve prepped her better.

High Flyer: I guess I just didn’t expect Ryan to fall for the machinations of the Best family. Whatever. I still trust him more than I do Lee. Like, how the HELL did he find DEACON. And what’s WRONG with him.

Flyer kicks over a small metal trashcan that clatters into the corner.

High Flyer: It all stinks of subterfuge.

Lindsay Troy: You and I both know better than to trust any owners we work for. Literally, not a one has ever not been a dicklord. And I don’t think you’re asking the right questions about Big Deac, either. The question isn’t how, it’s why. Why’s he back? And, where is Chris Shepherd?

High Flyer: Wish we could talk to the big ol’ mute freak, get some answers… But not right now. I gotta do what I can to turn D-Ry away from this path he’s walking down. I’ve walked it already. It’s fun and violent… Nothing but misery and loneliness awaits at the end.

Lindsay smiles. It’s one of three apparent facial expressions she has, if you’re the kind of person who keeps track of those sorts of things.

Lindsay Troy: If you think you can do a better job than I ever could, you go right ahead. I’ve decided that being Dan’s moral compass isn’t a mantle I want to take up anymore.

High Flyer: Red used to say that about me all the time. Can’t give up though. Man, I wish Mary-Lynn were here.. Or Cali. Someone who’s not me, who actually has morals. Cause like… my plan? It’s just copious amounts of violence. It’s all I’ve got.

The Queen shrugs.

Lindsay Troy: Sometimes, you have to go with what you’re good at.

Flyer just blushes, ever so slightly.

High Flyer: A compliment from the Queen? Unexpected.

Lindsay Troy: (bows) I surprise even myself sometimes.

Flyer gives her a nod and walks to the door. Before he exits, he turns one last time back to Troy.

High Flyer: Hey, listen, if you can do me a favor, that will actually be something you want to do… if Mike Best or any of the eMpire do their usual shenanigans?

Lindsay Troy: Yessss?

Flyer shrugs.

High Flyer: I dunno. Use copious amounts of violence against them? Maybe help point the bazooka that is Dan Ryan toward their direction for us?

Lindsay Troy: With pleasure. And I’ll make sure I get there in time, this time.

Satisfied with her answer, he takes his leave. As the door shuts, Troy leans her head back against the concrete and sighs.

What doesn’t kill them will make them stronger.

Right?

We cut to a commercial break as everyone prepares mentally for the ICON Championship match.

View from Lee’s personal box for March to Glory. As you can see a #97red ring has already been set up in preparation of the first PPV of 2020

It’s Main Event time is it not? Time for the ICON Championship to be put on the line in a battle of the Industry as the current reigning ICON Champion Dan Ryan takes on High Flyer with it all on the line.

The Refueled crowd is abuzz with excitement as the match is just second aways from happening.

Or at least, it should be.

Instead “Undead” blares out of the speaker system and the crowd begins to lose their goddamn minds. It’s a damn piece of luck that no one’s head explodes the the 49% Co-Owner of High Octane Wrestling and 100% owner of a be-spiked eyepatch makes his way out from the backstage area. The GOD of HOW looks all business in the 97Red suit as he stands atop the entrance way, basking in the love and adoration from the faithful. He waves his hand indicating that a “friend” from backstage joins him. The combat fatigued tall and monstrous looking gentleman who was hanging out in the locker room two weeks ago stands aside the boss as they begin the march down the ring.

Hoffman: Well, this is something of a surprise, we didn’t have Lee Best on our format sheet here tonight nor this military clad friend of his…

Newell: He’s GOD, he can do as he pleases. Last time he wasn’t in the format he put that god damn ingrate Cecilworth Farthington in his place, I hope the Industry WHO FAILED HIM in War Games get both barrels tonight…

Lee and his companion enter the ring with Lee looking rather proud of himself. The GOD of HOW centres himself in the dead centre of the ring that he owns as he signals for Bryan McVay to hand over a microphone.

Newell: Time for another truth telling session! Ryan and Flyer need to come out and get their medicine!

Hoffman: Although if we remember, Lee Best promised to make an announcement about the World Championship…

Newell: Oh, is Lee’s big boy going to fuck up that fraud Farthington? Please say yes!

Lee Best begins to hold up the microphone to his lips, looking at the tall fella next time in a very proud “I just had a masterstroke” manner but before even a syllable slips forth from his tongue, a high pitched scream sounds out across the speakers, followed in quick succession by a second. Best looks incredibly displeased by this disruption to whatever was about to flow forth from the golden tongue of GOD.

“We Appreciate Power”

The muttered and warbled tones of Grimes inflict the sounds of the arena as her warning of a terrifying future “We Appreciate Power” herald an arrival.

What sort of arrival?

The HOW World Heavyweight Champion, Cecilworth M! J. Farthington.

As Grimes questions to the world “what will it take to make you capitulate?”, the champion steps forth, looking really rather very proud of himself indeed. Lee Best for his part seems to have expected this arrival and starts to beckon the champion towards the ring. Cecilworth is only too happy to oblige, swaggering down to the ring with the World Championship resting atop his shoulder, the HOW World Tag Team Championship around his waist and a microphone in his left hand.

Hoffman: It looks like this standoff between Lee Best and the World Champion Cecilworth Farthington is extending to this week.

Newell: And it will end this week after that beefy big boy next to GOD himself destroys the coward Farthington.

The smugness levels would measure off the scale of a “Smugometer” if such a thing existed for the champ as he hops into the ring and signals for his new theme experiment to wind down. He looks Lee in his one good eye as he raises the microphone towards his face hole.

Farthington: Oh, sorry to cut you off before you begin there Leecifer, good buddy. Just didn’t want you to waste your time and your breath…

Lee raises a curious eyebrow but lets the champ continue, curious where this is going.

Farthington: I assume this…

Cecilworth gestures to the tall and monstrous fella standing to Lee’s side.

Farthington: …was supposed to be my shocking obstacle tonight… am I right? Were you about to do me dirty, as you have a habit of doing LeeLee? Were you about to power walk your way down to the ring and announce this man as my opponent for the World Heavyweight Championship… were you about to announce that the match was going to happen RIGHT NOW? Was that… perchance… something you had in mind, boss?

You can hear the utmost resentment oozing out of Farthington’s vocal chords as he says “boss”. Lee doesn’t even get a chance to respond as Farthington continues on making disappointed “tutting” noises.

Farthington: LeeLu Dallas, I was expecting better of you. We played this game before, I won the ICON Championship and you wanted the belt off me, so you’d surprise me with BulkLord challengers in the hopes of my complete and utter destruction, only announcing them at the last possible second to try and throw me off my game. We’ve had this dance before and I’m no fan of reruns. Certainly not after how you crowbarred MY goddamn ICON championship off of me. So, this time, I took a few precautions…

Cecilworth digs into the anus region of his tights and pulls out a copy of his newly signed HOW contract, he slaps the contract, possibly still stewing in unpleasant juices against the chest of the increasingly frustrated looking Best.

Farthington: Let me save you some time and just outline how you done fucked up Lee. To avoid a repeat of the “SURPRISE YOUR ICON CHAMPIONSHIP IS ALSO ON THE LINE” bullshit that you pull, I put a very simple clause in my contract. You, as co-owner of High Octane Wrestling are obliged in a pre-meeting with me, if I am World Champion, to name my next challenger, date and location on my request…

As the cogs begin to click in GOD’s head, he starts to put together what is about to happen and starts to look very concerned about his plan falling apart.

Farthington: Last week, I had that meeting and you did not fulfill your end of the bargain. You decided to be all cute and coy so you could surprise me with your next MONSTER who I’m sure would tear me limb from limb. Sadly, for your big buff stud there, he ain’t getting the chance. You see, fine viewers and audience members, should the co-owner of High Octane Wrestling NOT fulfill his duties in the pre-match meeting, the HOW World Champion, in this case I, the great and grand Cecilworth Farthington can veto…

The smug smile across the face of the champion can no longer be contained, equal to that of the horror of Lee Best.

Farthington: And name a REPLACEMENT of his choosing. Guess what buddy, I’m enacting that clause.

Cecilworth joyfully claps as Best and his large lunk of a compatriot look completely blindsighted.

Farthington: I’m going to have my contractually obliged 30 Day Title Defense right here, right now, in the middle of this very ring! So, if you gentleman wouldn’t mind skeedaddling out of here so we can get down to business.

Cecilworth gives the universal “fuck off” hand gesture to Lee and his unnamed conspirator as GOD storms out of the ring with a furious anger. Cecilworth stands in the middle of the ring waving “bye-bye” as they march backstage.

The cameras focus in on the face of the GOD of HOW, who is now smirking, as he exits the arena and heads backstage.

Farthington: Sorry to bother all of you with boring business speak but it was necessary to give you a match that you all deserve.

The crowd begins to buzz with excitement and anticipation at a World Championship match they weren’t expecting to see tonight. There’s low murmur discussions on who Cecilworth will call on with names coming from all groups of the LBI.

Farthington: Tonight, I am looking to set an example to the LBI competitors. I want them to fully understand what they are up against if they somehow, some way survive to the very end. I want them to understand the thing that shall crush their hopes and dreams of becoming World Champion. I want an exhibition of me at my very, very best and I require the BEST opponent to do that.

The excitement grows ever deeper.

Farthington: My opponent tonight is a man that I once considered a close friend. A man with whom things have been a little bit tense recently… a man who thanks to Lee Best in his ear has started to see me as something of an enemy…

The crowd at this point is losing it’s very mind at Farthington’s potential opponent.

Farthington: The man absolutely, without question, deserves a match with me. Sure, he may be controversial, he may be too vocal, his words may rub people up the wrong way. Hell, he could start a riot with a few utterances from his golden tongue. He’s a man that is at the very foundation of this company, a man who certainly belongs on the Mt. Rushmore of all things High Octane.

A very happy Cecilworth continues to hold the crowd in his meaty maw as he hypes up his challenger.

Farthington: I need to set an example to everyone in the LBI and I can only do that by facing and defeating a LEGENDARY High Octane Wrestling Hall of Famer…

As the crowd roars in approval, Cecilworth spins himself around one hundred and eighty degrees from the entrance way.

Farthington: BENNY NEWELL!

Hoffman: WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?

The uncharistic swearing of HOW’s unflappable frontman matches the reaction of the crowd. The excitement in the arena drops like a lead balloon, the cheers and buzz disappearing and replaced by a wave of vicious booing.

Farthington: Get your arse in here! You’ve got a date with destiny my friend.

Hoffman looks over to his half-cut colleague.

Hoffman: Benny, you don’t have to do this.

Newell: This motherfucker disrespected GOD, he tried to kill this company, I can take this slimy pipsqueak Hoffhole, just watch.

The smug smile of the champion is replaced by a mile wide shark grin as he sits between the middle and top ropes, beckoning Newell to the ring as trash begins to flow forward to the ring. Matt Boettcher who had been standing in the corner ready for the ICON match looks over to Cecilworth. Cecilworth pulls a second copy of his contract from his trunks and slaps it in Boettcher’s chest as an irate Newell gets into the ring.

Hoffman: I have no idea why my colleague, my friend and fellow Hall of Famer is going along with this…

Cecilworth hands over his World Championship to Boettcher and signals for him to speed up the process. Bryan McVay gets into the ring but the eMpire’s Ceciopath chases him back out, indicating this match doesn’t need ring announcing. Newell staggers to his corner as the champion begins to sarcastically shadow box in his. Boettcher checks on Newell who insists that he wants to fight. The Head Official checks the paperwork once more, shrugs his shoulder and realises he has no other option but to signal for the bell.

Hoffman: I… this is just disgusting… I know Lee Best has tricked and trapped Farthington on a few occasions this past year but that’s no reason to take things this far. Benny Newell is not sober nor physically capable for this bout. It is a sham title defense that demeans the history of the belt.

Despite HOW’s lead announcer’s plea for sanity falls on deaf ears as Cecilworth begins to circle around the HOW colour commentator who turned against CM!JF in the past month. Going from being his most loyal defender to most vocal critic appeared not to sit well with the champ and he had decided this was the action to take. On the bell Newell staggers out from his corner, swinging his fists and whiffing time and time again, clearly very inebriated by this point in the show. Cecilworth plays along for a few moments, shucking and ducking each of the whiffs, giggling to himself as he does so. The proudness he feels in the moment is not deterred at all by the rage flowing from the crowd,

Hoffman: I can’t disagree with this crowd reaction. This… this just isn’t right. Sure Benny had an independent wrestling career but…. JESUS!

Joe Hoffman’s outrage is interrupted by Cecilworth deciding he is bored of playing around and rushing towards Newell, kneeing him straight in the face. Newell falls full force back into the ropes and bounces back out toward the HOW World Champion. Farthington leaps into the rush from Newell and grips the arm tight, tossing him straight down to the mat but keeping very tight wrist control.

Hoffman: Don’t do this! Don’t do this!

Cecilworth looks out to the crowd, ducking a few objects that appear to be aimed right for the temple. He leaps down, yanking the arm of Newell and locking in the Article 50 nice and snug in the middle of the ring. Newell taps furiously almost instantly and Boettcher signals for the bell.

Hoffman: At least it was quick… wait… this… NO! NO!

Yank

Yank

Crunch

The High Octane Television cameras pick up a very clear cracking noise as the bell rings, not satisfied with just having Newell tap out, Cecilworth wrenches the Article 50 armbreaker back VERY HARD indeed and keeps pulling. Boettcher is quick to turn his attention to Farthington after being distracted by calling for the bell but by the point he rushes in to pull Farthington off Newell, it is too late, the damage has been done, the prophecy finally fulfilled.

Cecilworth M! J Farthington has finally broken an arm. Benny Newell screams out in agony as Cecilworth finally breaks the hold, rolling free and back up to his feet, delighting in dusting his hands off in a pantomime manner as he does so.

“We Appreciate Power” begins to play once again as a disgusted Bryan McVay makes a very dispassionate announcement.

McVay: Here is your winner via submission… and still HOW World Heavyweight Champion… Cecilworth Farthington.

Cecilworth snatches his belt back off of Matt Boettcher and pumps it up and down as he runs around the ring in celebration of his defense as Refueled cuts to the final commercial for the evening.

We cut backstage where we see a television screen replaying what just happened with Farthington literally breaking the arm of the Hall of Fame legend Benny Newell.

We see an arm reach up, with remote in hand, and promptly shut the television off. The #97red suit sleeve means this can only be one person…..and that person slowly spins around to face the hard camera inside his office.

Lee motherfucking Best.

Lee Best: Well played their Farthington….well played. Your tantrum out there in the ring was all just to get one over on my by defending the belt against Benny? Really? That is the best you could do? C’mon man. Surely my Son whispered something better into your ear last night? Sure I had thoughts of allowing Shocker to grace the HOW ring once more………but we have bigger plans.

Lee motions to the grizzled war and ring vet who is leaning up against the office door.

Lee Best: You see there are things in motion that no one can stop…and I mean no one. The tides are shifting and a rising tide lifts all boats…..and I am the motherfucking one that moves all things here in the land of High Octane.

As if on cue a knock is heard on the door and with a smirk Lee motions for Shocker to open it up.

As the door flies open we see the SON of GOD walk thru the door…leaning hard to the right.

Michael Best: That lean hard enough for ya DAD?

Lee can only smile at the smartass comment from his Son and motions for him to sit down. He immediately reaches into his jacket and pulls out his famous BottomLine pen.

Michael goes to jump out of his seat but Shocker, who is now standing behind the Son, pushes him back down into his seat with both hands on his shoulders.

Lee Best: Settle down there kiddo. I am not here to stab ya in the eye…..I wouldn’t want you to gain any extra moxie now would I?

Even Mike smirks at that play on words from his Dad.

Lee Best: Instead I am offering you this pen so you can sign right here……right now….on this Bottom Line.

Lee pushes a piece of paper across his desk so that it sits in front of his Son.

Michael shrugs off at Shocker who promptly lets go of the pressure he was applying…..but he doesn’t back off at all from his position.

Michael Best: What the fuck is this about? I am not going to….

Lee Best: For once in your fucking life just read ALL the words put in front of you. Just shut the fuck up….read…..and then sign.

Michael slowly leans in and begins to read.

Lee does the opposite as he leans back in his chair and reaches behind him and grabs two glasses. He places them on the table and then opens up a drawer on his desk and reaches in and pulls out a 10 year old bottle of Pappy Van Winkle and pours two fingers worth into each glass.

He slides one over to his Son who catches it without even looking up from reading the final sentences of the paper.

Michael Best: No bullshit?

Lee Best: No bullshit.

Michael takes a sip, and then a full out drink of the whiskey, as he rereads the paper one final time.

The Son then puts pen to paper and promptly signs the paper.

Smiling, Lee also takes a drink as Michael slides the paper back to his Father, before signing it himself.

Lee Best: Boom.

Michael Best: Best 2% I have ever spent….

Lee Best: Best 2% I have ever bought…..

The Father and Son, for now, raise their glasses in agreement and finish off their glasses as the camera pans into the signed piece of paper….which we clearly see is now a signed contract.

Lee Best just bought Michael’s 2% stake in the company….and he didn’t pay for it in cash.

Or with a guaranteed ICON Title shot.

Nope none of that.

It only took one thing…..and one thing only.

War Games Captaincy.

Lee Best: To the first Captain of War Games 2020…..MY SON….MICHAEL LEE BEST!

Lee refills their glasses and the two shoot down the contents as we cut away for our final commercial break

Farthington: WELCOME BACK TO REFUELED FOLKS! We are moments away from one of the biggest matches yet of the Leecifer Best Invitational! We’re on the FOUR HUNDREDTH EPISODE and it doesn’t get bigger than a match for the PRESTIGIOUS ICON Championship. See Joe, I can do this job just fine.

As we return from the chaos of the previous segment we are greeted with a camera shot of the Refueled announce table that has been taken over by the HOW World Champion, Cecilworth M! J Farthington, till riding the high of his “successful” title defense moments ago. Joe Hoffman remains at the table as the professional journalist he is, or possible hostage. Certainly one of those two things.

Hoffman: You disgust me, you know that, right? You’ve ruined the 400th show.

Cecilworth, who had been admiring his reflection in the very spick and span World Championship that was sitting atop the announce desks half responds.

Farthington: Sorry, what was that?

The conversation between the two is interrupted by Ozzy Osbourne’s wild yelling.

“ALL ABOARD! AH HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA…”

A small fog begins to engulf the entrance way, heralding the arrival of High Flyer.

Hoffman: You’ve been in the ring with both these men Cecilworth, what do you think High Flyer has

Farthington: He should do whatever it is I do, that seems to work. Six times may I add…

Hoffman: I’m glad you are here for insightful analysis.

High Flyer makes his way from the back, parting the fog in the process. He stands confidently at the top of the ramp, psyching himself up for the battle ahead. He tries to remain in a calm and rational state of mind as he throws up the devil horns to the delight of the crowd. He rushes towards the ring with a sense of urgency and purpose, hopping inside and testing out the ropes. He shuns the normal snow angel play, being very aware of the contest he is about to find himself in the middle of, High Flyer shows a steely determination in his eye. Well his good eye anyway.

Hoffman: Earlier this week High Flyer stated that he wants to achieve a quote unquote Fart…

Farthington: If he follows through, he has to pay the cleaning cost, from what I understand.

Hoffman: But with his vision issues is it possible he will take the eye off the prize here tonight?

Farthington: Scientifically speaking, you have to see Dan Ryan to be able to hit him, so it’s a potential issue.

“Crazy Train” is cut off by the Smashing Pumpkins’ “Zero” and with it, the HOW ICON Champion, The Egobuster himself, Dan Ryan. Ryan looks out to the crowd from the top of the entrance way, proudly wearing the ICON Championship around his waist. He looks at High Flyer in the ring and pats the belt, the clear implication being the belt is his and he plans to keep it that way. As the video behind Dan shows his various clashes in High Octane Wrestling, Ryan stoically walks down to the ring, paying very little attention to the fans reaching out for hand slaps and high fives. Through his sunglasses at night, he never breaks contact with Flyer as he marches down to the ring.

Hoffman: …your friend Mike Best…

Farthington: My BEST friend Mike Best…

Hoffman: He put this LBI group together with the clear intent of causing tension within the Industry and from everything we’ve seen over the past couple of weeks it seems like the cracks are growing wider. Do you think that was worth him making that sacrifice, perhaps at his own expense?

Farthington: I’m here to watch an ICON Championship match Joe, not to speculate on tittle tattle and gossip. That’s for the birds.

As Ryan enters the ring, he takes the ICON Championship from his waist. Noticing an old friend at ringside, he makes a point of raising the title on high and pointing it in the direction of Farthington. Farthington responds with a polite golf clap. The exchange lasts mere seconds as Ryan, very much realising the magnitude of his title defense quickly turns his full focus towards High Flyer. Flyer stands in his corner, hopping up and down, amping himself up as senior official Matt Boettcher takes the ICON championship from Dan Ryan. Bryan McVay takes to the microphone for the introductions as “Zero” fades away.

McVay: The following contest scheduled for one fall is a match in the Lee Best Invitation and is for the HOW ICONNNNNNNN CHAMMMMMPIONSHIP!

The crowd squeal in delight, being very hopeful this match delivers much better than the World Championship match moments earlier.

Hoffman: Surely you have to respect the fact that Dan Ryan managed to find a way to finally take the ICON Championship from around your waist…

Farthington: I don’t know Joe, as far as I remember, we were fighting in a ninety seven minute long Iron Man match, and I remember WINNING that match. Not entirely sure why Dan Ryan is holding MY ICON Championship.

McVay: Introducing first, the challenger, representing The Industry… he hails from Bethlehem, Pennsylvania and weighs in tonight at two hundred and twenty two pounds… he is HIIIIIIIGH FLYER.

Flyer throws up the devil horns again in a rather dispassionate manner, keeping his focus on Dan Ryan and the ICON Championship held by Boettcher in the middle of the ring.

Hoffman: Now High Flyer almost defeated you for the World Championship while wearing a straight jacket. Are you at all concerned with him being a potential victor in the LBI in fair fight condition?

Farthington: I don’t remember a straight jacket, I just remember him passing out in pain to the most brutal submission in the history of High Octane Wrestling, the Article 50.

McVay: And introducing the champion… hailing from Houston, Texas, he weighs in tonight at three hundred and seven pounds. He is the reigning and defending HOW ICON Champion… DANNNN RYANNNNNNNNN!

Ryan takes a very steps forward out of his corner, glaring a hole through High Flyer as the crowd give a more mixed response to a Dan Ryan who has taken a small shift in attitude recently.

Hoffman: This match is not only for the ICON Championship but also three vitally important points in the Lee Best Invitational. If High Flyer wins this one, he will still remain in strong contention to make it out of the Group of Death.

Farthington: Look, I don’t care about Maths and numbers and statistics, I’ve heard some information that they aren’t real. Mike Best is going to win this group Joe, no matter what your precious numbers say.

With the introductions done, McVay dips out of the ring. Boettcher presents the belt to Flyer, who nods at the official, Dan Ryan does similar. Matt Boettcher raises the belt high and presents it to a rather ravenous crowd, amped and ready to see an ICON Championship defense in another clash of The Industry. Boettcher hands off the championship belt and signals for the bell.

Hoffman: This is it! The match is on and the ICON is on the line.

Farthington: …it should be around my waist.

Hoffman: Because two titles just isn’t enough?

Farthington: Well if you want to step in the ring and try and take one away from me…

Hoffman: HIGH FLYER WASTING NO TIME!

Trying to catch Ryan off guard at the start of the match, Flyer rushes toward him with his boot up high, looking for a “surprise” Locomotive. Dan Ryan is initially surprised at the rush but has enough wits about him early in the match to bail out of the way. Flyer is able to control his own momentum and rolls through back up to an even base. Ryan can’t help but give a small smirk that High Flyer has shown up to give him a fight. Flyer for his part taunts Ryan, daring him to try him as he leans against the ropes. Ryan sees this taunt as an opportunity and quickly drills a knee into the gut of Flyer against the ropes. Flyer responds by drilling an elbow against the back of the skull of the hunched Egobuster.

Hoffman: We knew going into this match that Dan Ryan wanted evidence that his Industry compatriots actually cared.

Farthington: It looks to me that High Flyer is starting this match fighting angry. Took three seconds for him to fail at being calm…

Hoffman: He’s started passionately, certainly, I wouldn’t say I see malice.

Flyer drops a second elbow as Ryan drills in another knee. Ryan staggers back to nurse his neck as Flyer leans against the ropes trying to catch his breath back. Flyer thinks he spots an opening and heads towards the ICON Champion but Ryan catches him and hugs him in tight, looking to hurl him overhead for a power belly to belly. He hoists but Flyer struggles back and Ryan can’t quite hit the move. He tries for a second hoist but Flyer again manages to wriggle down as opposed to being ejected. Before he can try a third time, Flyer breaks the hold through the use of Mongolian chops straight to the big beefy brutalizer. Flyer tries to settle himself on the ground as Ryan rubs his jaw, a smile still present on his face.

Hoffman: High Flyer is bringing the fight to Dan Ryan and it looks like Dan Ryan is enjoying it!

Farthington: …have I mentioned I brought the fight to Dan Ryan six different times yet?

Hoffman: You have, I’d appreciate some new insight.

Farthington: …remember when I beat them both for the Tag Titles?

With hear a deep sigh from Joe Hoffman as Dan Ryan tilts his head towards a very driven High Flyer who is very carefully considering his next move. Ryan decides to make the move for him by booting him right in the gut. Flyer doubles over, clutching where it hurts as is human nature and Ryan pulls him on.

Hoffman: Humility Bomb! He wants this match done, he wants to keep his ICON Championship.

Farthington: …I wish he’d show a little humility himself, y’know.

Dan Ryan through sheer power and force tries to hurl High Flyer up sky high (teehee) and manages to do so. It quickly becomes apparent to an unfortunate Dan Ryan that High Flyer may have very much intended for this to happen as he throws blow upon blow to the temple of the ICON Champion. The onslaught of punches and elbows from Flyer from up high begin to stagger the Egobuster, causing his knees to wobble. Ryan for his part tries to regain his footing and put Flyer down to the ground but Flyer proves to be a difficult partner for this dance. The grip of Ryan slowly loosens and Flyer is able to flip backwards off of the champ and onto the mat. Seizing the moment, Flyer rushes into Ryan and drills both his knees into his chest, sending the bigger ICON Champion down to the mat for the first time in the contest. Flyer flows through and keeps the knees on Ryan, pressing on the shoulder for the pin.

ONE!

KICKOUT!

Ryan manages to power out just after the count of one, the satisfied smile from earlier his disappeared entirely, replaced by a cold dead business like demeanor from the ICON Champion. He doesn’t get to enjoy it much as Flyer drills double knees into the grounded Ryan, putting all the weight he can into making it as forceful as possible.

Hoffman: High Flyer is here for a fight! He’s here for a chance to win the ICON Championship! To win the LBI!

Farthington: To lose to me at March to Glory!

Hoffman: I never thought I’d find anyone who’d make me miss Benny’s drunken contributions and yet…

Dan Ryan is starting to look pained from the deadly double knee devastators from High Flyer. Flyer looks down to Dan Ryan, his eyes start to wander to outside the ring, back to Dan, back to outside the ring. Visions of weapons dance across the man’s mind for a moment but he is quick to shake it off, reminding himself of what has brought him to the dance. In a display of raw talent and athleticism, Flyer leaps high and manages to land a standing Shooting Star Press on Ryan. He quickly scrambles to the top rope with the opportunity open to him.

Hoffman: He could be looking for that Five and a Half Star Frog Splash right now!

Flyer leaps off the top rope froggy style but hasn’t done quite enough damage to keep Ryan down and out. The big bulking brute of a champion manages to roll out of the way but Flyer sees this on the journey down is as able to land on his feet, just in time.

Farthington: Meh. Three stars. At best. I could do a better one. It would hit for a start.

Ryan pulls himself up against the ropes, leaning against them as he sees Flyer land on his feet after flying from to. Ryan watches closely and sees High Flyer stagger slightly back due to the sheer momentum of the leap. Flyer seems a bit out of sorts, perhaps frustrated that the whiffs in this match so far may be due to depth perception issues. Ryan spots this moment of weakness and rushes Flyer who is distracted in thought and trying to keep his balance, drilling him right in the gut with a shoulder tackle that sends Flyer into the corner.

Hoffman: You have to wonder if High Flyer’s vision issue is making him miss a step here…

Farthington: He certainly didn’t see that shoulder coming! Ha! God I’m good.

Ryan follows in the corner with a series of charging shoulders delivered right to the gut of Flyer. He drills in a fourth, fifth, sixth time but Matt Boettcher puts a stop to the shoulder onslaught with Flyer very clearly being in the ropes. Looking to win this match fairly, Ryan goes for the clean break, throwing his hands up and backing away from the pained Lunatic. Flyer fights through the pain and catches Ryan with a swinging neckbreaker that sends his larger opponent back down to the mat. Flyer looks to the ropes again but has doubts and decides to mount Ryan, delivering a series of elbows and punches to the ICON Champion.

Hoffman: If I didn’t know any better I’d start thinking High Flyer doesn’t have confidence with his high flying antics.

Farthington: The ICON Champion is one of the most terrifying men in this industry, you cannot give him any scope for an opening. I know that all too well, it’s why he IS the ICON champion.

Hoffman: That almost sounds like a compliment.

Farthington: Well we have to celebrate the success of molten Terminator men, they are a minority population.

Flyer tries with all his might to rain down clubbing blow upon clubbing blow to the Egobuster as Ryan tries to power out of the mount. An uppercut from Ryan to the chin of Flyer is enough to rock the challenger and allow Ryan the chance to throw his smaller opponent off of him. Flyer kicks back up, rubbing his chin as he does so. Ryan for his part slowly climbs back up in a very deliberate pace. An angry Ryan rushes Flyer again but Flyer is able to catch him and use the momentum to cradle him nice and snug in the very middle of the ring.

One!

Two!

No!

Hoffman: The ICON Champion manages to break free of the cradle just in time!

Farthington: I have to admit it, smart ring awareness by the veteran Flyer, he caught Ryan and that is not an easy thing to do by any means.

Flyer looks over to Boettcher a little bit downbeat, really thinking he’d picked up the vital three points and ICON Championship, the double prizes on offer in the bout but Boettcher was is very insistent that it was a three count. Flyer bites his bottom lip and turns his attention back to the ICON Champion, quickly sizing up Ryan and the champ uses the ropes to pull himself back up. He leaps at Ryan with a Lou Thesz Press but both competitors are too close to the ropes and it sends both men tumbling out of the ring, ring in front of the announcers table. The two land against the table with a solid thud.

Hoffman: I know you were coming for a closer look at some potential March to Glory opponents but I didn’t think you’d get this close a look.

Farthington stands up and looks down at the two men. Dan Ryan is clutching his back as he made the hardest contact, Flyer is cursing himself again. Flyer notices the HOW World Champion peering down at him and Ryan and stands himself up. He glares down the man who used his compatriots to steal away his HOW World Championship opportunity.

Farthington: Easier there Wacky Jacky, eyes on the prize. I’m just an observer. Tonight, I’m a journalist.

Cecilworth throws his hands up in mock surrender as Jack contemplates hacking one up right in his face. Before he can make the unhygienic decision though, Dan Ryan has managed to slip behind him and hoists him up high, tossing the back of the back of High Flyer’s skull against the ring apron with a brutal German suplex. The crowd gasp as they see High Flyer’s neck bend in a way that human necks aren’t supposed to. Ryan slumps himself against the announce table as he tries to get his wits. A replay of the German plays to the crowd while both men are out of it, causing less cheers and more uncomfortable gasps.

Hoffman: That was disgusting!

Farthington: Great ring awareness by Dan Ryan! I told Flyer to keep his eye on the game, you can’t blame me for this one.

Dan Ryan knows that he has bought himself the opening he has been looking for all match. He scoops up the smaller Flyer, putting a great strain on his already abused back and rolls him back into the ring. Upon completing the relocation, The ICON Champion clutches his back, clearly still dealing with the after effects of his date with the commentation station. Boettcher begins counting out the champ, who takes a moment on the outside.

One!

Two!

Three!

Ryan rolls back in, Flyer looking very corpse like after the deadly German suplex. The contests wear and tear is starting to show as Ryan stands atop his challenger trying to work out what to do next. Flyer for his part begins to slowly stir to life but this is stopped by a few stomps down on the ole noggin.

Hoffman: I think it would be fair to say that the momentum has shifted in favour of the champion but can he land the killer blow, keep his title and pick up the vital three points?

Farthington: All signs point to… maybe.

We cannot confirm if the World Champion is outsourcing his commentary to a Magic 8 Ball.

High Flyer begins using the tree trunk like legs of Ryan to crawl back up to his knees and it dawns on Ryan what must be done. He hoists Flyer in and lifts him up high for the second attempt of a Humility Bomb in the contest. Perhaps hurling Flyer with too much force, Flyer is able to spin over the top of Ryan and roll him over with a sunset flip. Matt Boettcher wastes no time slipping down to check the pin.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

NO!

Hoffman: The ICON Champion manages to get his shoulder up at the last second.

Farthington: He isn’t kidding when he says he’s relentless. I spent ninety seven minutes straight in the ring with that man. Six matches with him and I scored a single pinfall. Flyer is having a strong LBI but facing a champion with the title on the line is so much different than a simple group stage match.

Flyer looks again to Boettcher, the desperation very clearly showing. Boettcher signals again for a clear two as High Flyer looks up to the heavens and curses the world. He can’t swear at the Gods for too long though, as Ryan is back at it again. The relentless and determined ICON champion stumbles over to Flyer and swings wildly. Flyer manages to duck the meaty paw that is flying his way and slip behind the ICON Champion.

Hoffman: He’s relentless for sure but if his recent frustrations keep boiling over with wild swings like that it could cost him his ICON Championship.

Farthington: I’m fine with that, any evidence that proves I am the great ICON Champion in the history of High Octane Wrestling is fine by me. Go get him Flyer!

As Flyer slips behind Ryan, he rushes towards the ropes, rebounding towards The Egobuster with a tremendous force. He lifts his boot up high just as Ryan spins around to face him.

Hoffman: LOCOMOTIVE!

Farthington: BUT LOOK AT RYAN!

Flyer delivers the stiffest damn Yazuka kick you ever did done see right to the face of the ICON Champion. Ryan somehow, someway isn’t taken down by this however. Ryan is staggered, Ryan is stumbling and Ryan is stunned but Ryan is still standing. Flyer bites his bottom lip in sheer frustration once more.

Hoffman: How is he still standing? How? How?

Farthington: The power of the ICON!

The feed cuts to a slow motion replay, showing Flyer putting all of his force into the Locomotive on Ryan but what becomes clear on closer inspection is Flyer did not catch Ryan dead centre, he managed to get him on the left cheek.

Hoffman: The depth perception! It’s rearing its ugly head again.

Farthington: That’s not the only ugly head I wish wasn’t reared in this company.

Staggered but standing, Ryan is trying to knock some sense back into himself. Flyer manages to catch the replay out of the corner of his eye and looks furious about himself. A moment isn’t wasted as he decides to correct the error of the first Locomotive. He rebounds himself against the ropes once more, picking up Fast and the Furious levels of speed as he rushes towards the ICON champion once more.

Hoffman: A SECOND LOCOMOTIVE!

…

…

…

Farthington: HUMILITY BOMB!

There’s a hushed awe in the crowd. Just as High Flyer leaps up towards Dan Ryan with a second full force Locomotive, Ryan is able to catch Flyer’s leg. In a display of sheer power and strength, Ryan is able to hurl up High Flyer into the Powerbomb position. Using the challengers’ momentum against him, Ryan drops Flyer to the mat with the Humility Bomb. Knowing he can’t leave his fellow Industry member a second of recovery time, he jackknifes his pin on Flyer. Matt Boettcher is quick for the count.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

*Ding Ding Ding*

Hoffman: Amazing display of sheer power from the ICON Champion. He does it with the Humility Bomb!

McVay: Here is your winner and STILL HOW ICON Champion, The Egobuster, DANNN RYANNNNN!

Hoffman: If that first Locomotive had caught all of it, we could be looking at a new ICON Champion…

Farthington: But it didn’t Joe, I hate to admit it but Dan Ryan has done my title proud tonight. He just better not win his group…

Hoffman: Afraid of what this new Dan Ryan may do against you?

Farthington chuckles.

Farthington: I’m afraid of ruining his new found success Joe.

A relieved Dan Ryan looks up to the heavens as Matt Boettcher returns his ICON Championship to him. He gives his fellow Industry member, who is out from the sheer force involved in the Humility Bomb a “atta-boy” pat on the chest as he lifts the ICON Championship up from his kneeling position. A loud bang gives a shock to many in the crowd but marks the arrival of dropping confetti, celebrating both the ICON Championship retention and the 400th episode of HOW.

Hoffman: Next week the LBI continues but let us spend the last few moments celebrating the fact we made it to four hundred shows and ended it with such a spectacular main event!

Farthington: Time stops for no man Joe and next week, it all begins again. The LBI is an onslaught and only the strongest of HOW’s best will dream of standing in the ring with me at March to Glory. I mean, did you see what I did to a Hall of Famer tonight?

Hoffman chooses to go with the “deaf ear” option.

Hoffman: Folks, thank you for making High Octane Television your Saturday night destination. We’ll see you next week.

The cameras fade out on a fully upright Dan Ryan holding the ICON Champion up high and mighty and confetti slowly drifts down upon him…….

However, the cameras do not fade to black as they turn back to the crowd who appear to be getting rowdier as normal and sees two fans jump the barricade and attack the HOW World Champion, Cecilworth Farthington.

Joe Hoffman: What the heck…..

Hoffman says as his headset is ripped off his head and he watches the two men put the boots to Farthington before nodding to one another and sliding into the ring. Dan Ryan turns around and looks as if he’s seen a ghost.

Joe Hoffman: I know those two.

One of the individuals smiles with a movie star smile and the other gives a simple salute to the ICON champion causing Ryan to go on the offensive using the championship belt as a weapon, but both men duck under the attack and when Dan whips around he is met with two knees to the face and when he pops up holding his massive jaw the other individual grabs him by the hair and hooks him before dropping him with a forearm across his throat as the attacker’s knee is driven into Dan’s back. The two men pick up High Flyer and place him over the shoulder before the other hits the ropes and they lay him out with a dominator/cutter combination attack. The two men survey the damage before posing in the middle of the ring as the camera zooms in on the shirts they are wearing which read…..HOLLYWOOD BRUVS.

Joe Hoffman: That’s Mikey Unlikey and Kendrix! What are they doing here?!?!?!?

Hoffman question wants to be answered by Lindsay Troy and MJ Flair as well as they come running down to the ring.

Joe Hoffman: Here comes fellow Industry members Lindsay Troy and MJ Flair. There is NO REASON for Flair to be out here…I mean she should already be at the darn hospital!!!!

As Troy and Flair slide into the ring they are quickly met with boots to the face, but the ladies have the spirit of Rosie the Riveter in them as they are making it to their feet only to be doubled over with a shot to the mid-section.

Joe Hoffman: The heck was that?

The object is revealed to be a metal baton as they drive it into their backs. Mikey starts working the body of Lindsay Troy with the baton as Kendrix begins choking out MJ Flair with it.

Joe Hoffman: The Hollywood Bruvs came prepared tonight as they just have taken out the Industry…….and my God what else can Flair be put thru tonight!!??

“Personal Yeezus” by Depeche Mode and Kanye West

Hit the speakers and everyone in the arena goes ballistic as Mike Best and Max Kael make their way down to the ring.

Joe Hoffman: The Hollywood Bruvs are about to meet the eMpire.

Mikey and Kendrix stop their attack on Troy and Flair and watch Mike and Max who begin to circle the ring. As they circle, Farthington has gotten back to his feet and has join his brethren.

Joe Hoffman: Looks like the odds aren’t in the Bruvs favor now.

The three members of the eMpire look at one another and climb up on the ring apron before nodding to one another and Max and Mike rush inside pouncing on each of the members.

Joe Hoffman: What the…………..

If Hoffman causes you know something big happened and it did as two more men jump the barricade and prevent Farthington from getting into the ring and they drive him through the announce table with a powerbomb drawing the attention of Mike and Max away from the Bruvs.

Joe Hoffman: Are we still on? It’s pandemonium out here and two more men have just sent our World champion crashes through the announce table and…..it can’t be.

As Mike and Max’s attention is diverted to what just transpired outside the ring, the Bruvs take advantage and attack them from behind.

Joe Hoffman: That’s Andy Murray and Perfection!!!!!!!!!!!

As Murr and Perfection get into the ring, the Bruvs toss them their batons. Mikey reaches into his pocket and pulls out something and tosses an object to his partner before slipping the other object around his fingers.

Joe Hoffman: Looks like Mikey brought some brass knuckles to the party.

Mikey and Kendrix rain down right hands to the face of Mike and Max. As the Bruvs attack the Sons of Best, High Flyer and Dan Ryan begin to stir and Murray and Perfection are happy to introduce them to their friend Mr. Baton.

Joe Hoffman: Where is the EPU? Aren’t they supposed to be out here protecting us?!?!?!?

Murray shows off his strength by picking up the ICON champion and delivering an Emerald Flowsion while Perfection drives High Flyer’s face into the canvas with an Unprettier.

Joe Hoffman: The Highland Hangover from Murray and Photo Finish by Perfection.

Troy and Flair regain their composure and go after Perfection and Murray, but their moment of triumph is quickly extinguished as The Bruvs grab them from behind and Murray and Perfection have a little fun with the ladies as they poke them with the batons before cracking it over their heads.

Joe Hoffman: Security. Police. Anyone?!?!?!?

Perfection picks up MJ Flair and slaps her across the face before driving her head first into the mat with the Beau Ideal Impaler DDT and Murray delivers another Highland Hangover to Lindsay Troy. Perfection slaps Mikey on the chest and points to Mike Best and Max Kael. Perfection and Murray help pick Max up as they throw him to Kendrix who lifts Max up and Mikey hits the ropes to deliver the dominator/cutter combination again.

Joe Hoffman: The A-List on Max.

Now all four men turn their attention to the Son of GOD, Michael Lee Best.

Joe Hoffman: Get out of there Mike!

They all four pick up Mike and toss him to Murray who places him between his legs and lifts him into the air and hold him while the other three step up onto the ropes and help drive Mike’s head into the mat.

Joe Hoffman: SPIKE PILEDRIVER!

Mike starts convulsing in the ring as the four individuals share a hearty laugh between themselves.

Joe Hoffman: Good God! The bodies. The devastation.

Each men place a boot onto the chest of Mike and share a hearty handshake with one another as they look into the camera as the scene fades and the HOTv logo appears for the final time on #HOW400.