Refueled XVII

Chris Kostoff defeated Black Mamba in 4:03 with his No Remorse power bomb finisher. The HOW Hall of Famer didn’t have to use much energy to gain this win as both wrestlers came into the match not looking like they spent too much time in preparation. A win is a win however and Kostoff now prepares to face Deacon next week.

Alexander Redding defeated Rick Dickulous in 11:14 with his Red Dead finisher. The match started with a handshake and was mostly Rick in control early on as the big man was just too overpowering. Eventually Redding, with the help of Grady and some syrup, was able to “blind” the big man and executed his finisher after a couple double knees. Redding moves on to the knockout stage of the tournament and will take on his tag team partner Teddy Palmer.

“Welcome to the Jungle”  blares across your speakers as the HOTv logo gives way and we are once again live inside the All State Arena where we have a full sellout for tonight’s action.

The camera pans over to Joe Hoffman and Benny Newell, who looks furious as hell holding his arm up in a sling after Cecilworth Farthington broke it last week in his title defense.   Hoffman holds back his laughter as Benny tries to down his bottle of Jack Daniels with his nondominant arm while talking at the same time.

Joe Hoffman:  Welcome everyone to Refueled! Tonight, we have more LBI action where we are beginning to see the groups finally start to shake out. Earlier tonight in our untelevised action we saw Alex Redding clinch the Narcotic group and we know that he will be facing his tag team partner, Teddy Palmer, in the knockout stage. That is very impressive for two new wrestlers here in HOW.

Benny Newell:  The only thing that is impressive is that I am here working…with a broke fucking arm.

Joe Hoffman:  I have to commend you for being here tonight Benny that is for sure. Truth be told who would have thought we would have seen Benny Newell getting a World Title shot in 2020?

Benny Newell:  Just wait Joe…..once this arm heals up…….you just wait.

Joe Hoffman:   Sure…ok. I will wait for that…but what we both cannot wait for is the matches for tonight. Our Main Event is none other than stablemates MJ Flair and Lindsay Troy. Another treat for everyone as that could be the Main Event on any PPV in any other company in the world.

Benny Newell:  Don’t forget about the Son Michael Best taking on High Flyer. Another match that would be the Main Event of any other PPV in any other fucking company. And you just KNOW it is killing Lee Best to see this match on a weekly show and not even as the main event…..you just know it!!!

Joe Hoffman: Not sure I can say that we know that but…

Benny Newell: Dude…in my fucking ear….right now….SCREAMING…….you know it!!!

Joe Hoffman: Understood sir. We also have the LSD Championship being defended once again by Max Kael as he takes on Brenton Cross. Max has turned it up another notch since his loss to Warrick Hill a few weeks ago and I am sure that he has more tricks up his sleeve.

Benny Newell: Until Max is dead and buried in his backyard…..don’t fucking blink around him. That’s free advice to the locker room.

Joe Hoffman: And finally, we got our opening match of the night as we have Brian Hollywood, of the Five Time Academy, taking on HOW’s Number One Dad….Steven Solex.

Benny Newell: The former World Champion versus the former Number One Ranked Wrestler in the world…….can’t wait till this match is a former.

Joe Hoffman: Easy there now Benny. This match is going to be a mental test for both guys that is for sure. They both have been eliminated from advancement, but both need a win in the worst of ways. Let’s see how it’s going to play out…

The first match graphic flies up on the screen as we kick off the first match in the 2020 Lee Best Invitational:

DING!  DING! DING!  DING!

Bryan McVay:  Our opening contest for tonight’s show is another 2020 Lee Best Invitational…and is scheduled for…..ONE FALL!!!!!!

Crowd:  One fall!

“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. The crowd boos unceremoniously as Solex begins to make his way down the ramp and toward the ring. With his right hand, Steven holds a number one high up in the air, with the biggest, cheesiest of smiles on his face. On his way to the ring:  Steven Solex walks up to Benny Newell and hands him a brand new bottle of Jack Daniels, with a prescription label.

Benny Newell:  Thanks Dad!!!

Joe Hoffman:  Since when did they offer prescription whiskey?

Benny Newell:  Since you started minding your own damn business.  I’m in a lot of pain. And HOW’s #1 Dad made sure to take care of his own…unlike some people…

Joe Hoffman:  I told you I was sorry about Farthington…

Benny Newell:  Time to drink away the pain before I have to put on my work 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 awaits his opponent.

Bryan McVay:  Introducing first; from Huntington Beach, California….weighing in at 253 pounds….HOW’S #1 DAD……STEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEVEN SOOOOOOOOOOOOLEX!

Solex walks up to Matt Boettcher as Hollywood’s music begins to blare over the PA System….

“Stronger On My Own” by Disturbed blares, and Hollywood comes out in normal black long tights and normal black tape on his wrists, looking completely generic compared to his flashy entrances from the past.  He walks down the entrance ramp, but before anything can happen, Solex’s eyes widen…the veins pop out of his forehead, and he immediately leaps over the ropes screaming at the top of his lungs.

Steven Solex:  “Young man!  I thought I told you to cut your dadgum long hair off before this match!!!  You look like a hooligan!”

Solex charges towards Hollywood and grabs a handful of his long, beautiful, brown hair and yanks Hollywood by it and drags him by ringside.  He takes Hollywood by his hair and slams his head into the ring steps multiple times, just furious over Hollywood’s hair like some dad possessed.  Solex then rips a couple small locks out with his hands and kicks Hollywood in the gut before he marches up the steps, grabs his chair and screams out…

Steven Solex:  GO TO YOUR CORNER  YOUNG MAN!

Hollywood arises and glares at Solex.  He cracks his head, but before he even listens to Solex; Hollywood jumps into the ring and lands a Lou Thez press on him and starts nailing Solex across his face as Boettcher rings the bell and the match begins.

Joe Hoffman:  Hollywood’s pissed off at Solex!  He doesn’t need a lecture about his hair to start off this match.

Benny Newell:  You shut your mouth before Solex comes over here and adjusts your attitude young man!  You need to respect HOW’S #1 Dad as he teaches Hollywood a lesson. Don’t get involved with his punishment.  He knows what he’s doing.

Joe Hoffman:  But fuck…

Benny Newell:  It’s fudge now!  And Hollywood’s sacrificed everything!  He’s sacrificed everything….sacrificed everything….

Joe Hoffman:   I think Benny’s pain medicine has finally kicked in like Hollywood’s kicked in Solex’s jaw with that roundhouse kick.

Solex had regained his composure and fought Hollywood off before Hollywood nails Solex in the jaw with a roundhouse kick.    Solex grabs his jaw and sadistically smiles over at Hollywood respecting Hollywood’s determination. Solex climbs back to his feet, but as soon as Hollywood charges at him with a clothesline, Solex grabs Hollywood’s hair from behind and hits a reverse DDT on him.  Solex picks Hollywood up, hoists him on his shoulders and delivers a stiff gutbuster to him, but holds him in place. Solex then proceeds to lift Hollywood’s trunks up and spanks the ever living shit out of him. He then takes Hollywood by his hair again and drags him over to the corner, smashing his head into the corner multiple times screaming “I TOLD YOU TO GO TO YOUR CORNER” at the top of his lungs.  He then drapes Hollywood there before nailing a stiff drop kick to Hollywood’s back.

Benny Newell:  Solex is on top of his game after last week’s loss to Alex Redding.  He’s trying to get into Hollywood’s head already in this match up. He’s upped his fathering to over 9000!

Joe Hoffman:  Don’t count Hollywood out just yet!

Solex pulls a Dollar Bill out Matt Boettcher’s ear and bribes him to turn around for a moment.  Solex pulls off his belt and continues to whip the ever living piss out of Hollywood’s back. Hollywood’s temper flares as he forces himself through the whippings.  He rolls out of the way of Solex and his belt, creating space. Solex begins chasing Hollywood around the ring before Hollywood ducks out, rushes at Solex and chops his knee from right under him.  Hollywood lands a picture perfect suplex on him. Solex sniffles towards the corner as Hollywood charges at him before Solex points towards the ground towards Hollywood’s boot laces. He looks without hesitation before Solex slides under his legs and hits a double finger to his eyes.

Benny Newell:  FINGER POKE OF DAD!  Solex has gotten back into this match just like that!

Joe Hoffman:  Hollywood needs to not let his temper get the best of him.

Hollywood swings left and right, trying to hit Solex, but he misses.  Solex hits a nasty headbutt to Hollywood, then he mounts him to bite his head.  Hollywood pushes Solex away from him. He charges straight into Solex before getting met with a stiff spinebuster from Solex.  Solex smiles and taunts the crowd to a chorus of boos before Hollywood leaps straight back to his feet. Instinct gets the best of him as he stomps his foot into the mat.

Joe Hoffman:  Brian Hollywood’s going into familiar territory here!  He’s signing the papers…

Benny Newell:  What papers is he signing?  He gave up his fortune. He’s told us that for weeks now, Joe.  There’s no pink slips, no money, no nothing but his grit and determination!

Joe Hoffman:  You go in there and tell him that.  He’s gearing up for the Executive Promise and…

BAM!!!!

Benny Newell:  By Gosh! By Golly! The Clothesline from Heck!  SOLEX HAS GOT THE COVER!!!!!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!!!!!!!

NO!  Hollywood’s got his foot on the ropes, to the amazement of Solex at 2.9999.   Solex’s furious and drops knees straight at Hollywood as Hollywood continues to hold onto the ropes.  Boettcher screams for Solex to get off before getting close to a five count. Solex steps away as Hollywood climbs back up to his feet, but before Hollywood gains his composure, Solex nails a release German Suplex, causing Hollywood to land straight on his head.  Solex then picks Hollywood up to nail a Russian Leg Sweep on him.

Benny Newell:  Hell hath no fury than a pissed off dad trying to teach someone a lesson!

Solex goes to pick Hollywood up for a Gutwrench Powerbomb, but Hollywood counters with a Hurricanarana.  Hollywood rushes towards the ropes and hits a Claymore Kick, sending Solex into the corner. Hollywood mounts the turnbuckle landing punches at the crowd counts to nine, before Solex grabs him and lands a hellacious powerbomb on Hollywood, taking both men down forcing Boettcher to start the count.

Joe Hoffman:  Brian Hollywood’s tenacity hasn’t allowed him to give up quite yet in this match up.  Both men cannot afford another loss in the LBI. They’re fighting for their lives.

Benny Newell:  I’ve got $20 on Solex.  I need to pay him back for picking up my medicine.

SEVEN!

EIGHT!

NINE!

Hollywood’s back on his feet, getting the crowd to rally with him.  As Hollywood rushes towards Solex, Solex unleashes a hellacious shoulder tackle on Hollywood, flooring him and taking all the air out of his lungs.  He then climbs the turnbuckle and hits a double axe handle on Hollywood then mounting him and grinding his forearm against his face, trying to suffocate him.  Solex gloats as Hollywood’s face begins to beam bright red, frustrated he can’t get the upper hand on Solex. Hollywood slams his fists on the mat trying to get his adrenaline to flow.

Joe Hoffman:  Hollywood’s inexperience with his new style is showing with Solex right now.  The frustration is getting to him.

Benny Newell:  Solex has gotten into Hollywood’s head all night long.

Solex then stomps straight down on Hollywood’s head, and puts him into the camel clutch.  Hollywood struggles and tries to roll out, but Solex has him locked into the middle of the ring.  Hollywood fades before Boettcher runs over. He raises Hollywood’s hand twice, but on the third attempt, Hollywood powers Solex on his shoulders and drops them both down.  Hollywood crawls back to the corner to think about his next move, but Solex doesn’t allow it, as he spikes him down to the ground with a piledriver. Hollywood’s body lies there lifeless as Boettcher goes to check on him.

Joe Hoffman:  Solex stiffed him with that piledriver, and you can see it in his eyes right now.  He’s about ready to go for the kill!

Benny Newell:  The King of Dad Style’s about to adjust Hollywood’s attitude with one more of his patented clotheslines.  He’s winding up, looking hungry as ever. FINISH HIM, SOLEX! FINISH HOLLYWOOD’S CHANCES!

Solex winds up, and charges with the By Gosh! By Golly! The Clothesline from Heck!  One last time. But before Solex can process, Hollywood moves out of the way and sends Solex straight into the turnbuckle shoulder first.  Without hesitation, Hollywood yanks Solex out of the corner, pulls him into the middle of the ring, and plants him head first with a new maneuver.

Joe Hoffman:  BASIC INSTINCT!  BASIC INSTINCT! Hollywood’s landed his new move he’s been learning at Five Time Academy!  THIS IS IT!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!!!!!!!

DING DING DING DING!

Bryan McVay:  Here is your winner via pinfall………BRIAN HOLLYWOOD!!!!!

Benny Newell:  NOOOOO!  DAAAAAD! Now who’s gonna bring me prescription whiskey?!

Joe Hoffman: Hollywood squeaks out the win tonight, barely after getting dominated by Steven Solex the entire match.  We had a hard fought opening match tonight, Benny!

Benny Newell:  That pains me to say it in more ways than one!  I’m out of Jack Daniels for the rest of the night and thanks to Hollywood, now I have to call these matches in excruciating pain!  Fuck you, Hollywood.

Joe Hoffman:  Language, Benny!  Solex is watching!

Benny Newell:  Fuck off!  My arm hurts!!!

Hollywood lays on the ground, just absorbing how close that match was, completely in shock and awe.  He wipes his hands on his face as the crowd roars as he gets back to his feet. Boettcher raises his hands as we fade out….

Hollywood barely makes it backstage following his match against Steve Sole x as Hollywood is still trying to catch his breath following his match.  He sees the camera as he looks almost surprised.

Brian Hollywood: Oh shit..uh..hold up guys we’ve gotta do this right here.

Hollywood looks around before he spots a random worker walking around backstage.  Hollywood points at him and gets his attention.

Brian Hollywood: Hey you!  Yea, you!  Come here for a second.

The random worker awkwardly points at himself before cautiously walking towards Hollywood.  He knows how these types of things go when Hollywood randomly calls someone out backstage.

Brian Hollywood: You’re legitimately nervous, aren’t you?  Well, don’t be.  I know you know who I am…but we’re not going to do that tonight.  Instead, we’re gonna do something a little bit different tonight, alright partner?  Jesus H tap dancing Christ…listen to me…I’ve been hanging out with a trucker for too long!

Hollywood shakes his head as he looks around him and randomly finds a ball point pen setting on a table.

Brian Hollywood: Alright here, take this.  No idea where Blaire is at…so you’re going to fill in as backstage interviewer.  I mean, you’re backstage so that makes you qualified to be one.

Random Worker: Uh…ok?

Brian Hollywood: Don’t worry about it, you’ll figure it out.  Alright, just ask me something..ask me anything.

The random backstage worker looks confused as he struggles to find something to ask Hollywood.

Backstage Random (Now Interviewer) Worker: How are you doing today?

Hollywood sighs as he rolls his eyes and facepalms.

Brian Hollywood: No man…come on, surely you don’t think it’s that hard?  Based off of how you see me, how do you think I’m doing?  I just had a match for fucks sake!  Now, ask me something else…you know, related to the show?

Backstage Random (Now shitty Interviewer) Worker: Alright..I got this now.  So with Alex Redding winning against Rickdiculous earlier on in the night…what are your thoughts knowing that now that mathematically eliminates you from LBI advancement contention?

This apparently was the wrong question to ask as Hollywood finally reverts back to the reputation he has when cornering these types of random workers backstage into these situations.

Brian Hollywood: Wow, did we get smart all of a sudden?!  What are my thoughts?  First off, why would you call out my shot like that?!  Ugh…you know what…get the fuck out of here man.  What does Lee pay you to do here anyways, get lost!

The backstage random, now fired interviewer apparently, takes off down the hall and escapes Hollywood’s wrath as Hollywood shakes his head and focuses in the camera.

Brian Hollywood: Tonight was about getting on track.  I like to think I’ve gotten a good start on that.  Yes…Redding may have sealed my fate on advancing in the LBI…but honestly, was I to expect much out of that when I know Redding holds the tie breaker on me?

Hollywood pauses as he’s clearly had a long night already.  There were a lot of antics in his match against Solex and Hollywood’s had a long week at the Five Time Academy.  He’s tired.  There is a lot to be processed this week but one thing Hollywood has never lost his touch to was his instincts and his smarts.  He’s clearly still an opportunist who’s always thinking about the next one.

Brian Hollywood: Tonight is only the beginning, as I’ve been saying all week.  It’s the start of something new for Hollywood and by god this is something I’m going to stick to.  A lot of people continue to call me out about this alleged “fake” bullshit saying it’s still the same ole Hollywood.  Well if that was the case, did anyone honestly expect to see what they saw in the opener?  If that isn’t revealing enough, then apparently everyone will just have to wait and see just how far I intend to take this…and let’s just say it’s a….basic instinct…

Hollywood scoffs, and then smirks and shakes his head as he brushes off the rhetoric as his last cryptic message can be dissected as Refueled heads to commercial.

The broadcast cuts to the upper level of the arena where Blaire Moise just happens to be standing on the steps in the aisle way in the upper reaches of the Allstate Arena.

Blaire Moise: Blaire Moise here in Section 214.

The camera focuses in on Joe Bergman and Dawn McGill sitting seats C1 and C2.

Blaire Moise: Earlier tonight, Joe Bergman wrestled in a dark match tagging with ‘Extreme Pizza Delivery Girl’ Tessa Martin and defeating the team of Rod Hall and his Emo-

Joe Bergman: The Emo was pretty distraught after the match.

Blaire Moise: . . .and Dr. Ardis Rectum, M.D.

Joe Bergman: She’s a proctologist.

Blaire Moise: Who just happens to wrestle.  Gotcha.

Joe Bergman: Yeah, Tessa wrestled for a time in Dream Wrestling about ten, eleven years ago and I thought it’d be nice for her to get a chance to wrestle in a big venue again.  Since my match was cancelled, I offered to wrestle in a – well, not a dark match but a dark, dark match.

Blaire Moise: The dark match before the dark match?

Joe Bergman: Right.

Blaire Moise: Joe, let’s go back to last week.  You battled against Max Kael inside a steel cage for the LSD title and came up just a little short.

Joe Bergman: Yeah.  You know, Max is a tough opponent.  Especially inside a steel cage.  We gave it our best shot.  I gave it everything I had.  And as you said, we just came up short.

Blaire Moise: I saw you backstage afterwards and you didn’t seem very happy.

Joe Bergman: I wasn’t.

Blaire Moise: What were you thinking after the match?

This would one of the few times Joe actually appears to be annoyed at one of Blaire’s questions.

Joe Bergman: What was I thinking?  I wasn’t thinking anything, Blaire.  I was pissed.

Blaire Moise: Pissed?

Joe Bergman: I really wanted to bring that LSD title back to the people and in my mind, I thought I had that match.  I should have won that match– but I just didn’t get it done.  I did everything that I thought I needed to do to win.  Worked hard.  Trained hard.  Cut probably the best promo I’ve ever done.  But it still wasn’t enough.

Blaire Moise: You’re mad at yourself then.

Joe Bergman: Absolutely.   I had a chance to finish Max and couldn’t do it.   I was so mad I didn’t even bother to return to Section 214 after the match to hang out with Dawn, Ray, Rah, and – of course – the people.  I just grabbed my stuff from the locker room, didn’t even bother to shower, and walked out the back door to my car.  Threw my bag in the back seat and headed off to Peoria. 

Blaire Moise: Peoria?

Joe Bergman: My wife had to stay behind and run the Missouri Valley Wrestling house show down there since Ray McAvay attended the special High Octane Wrestling 400th show.  I’ve been told that I may have missed something big that happened at the end of last week’s show.

Blaire Moise: Pretty big, yes.

Joe Bergman: So it looks like we now have another faction in HOW.  That doesn’t bother me in the least because I don’t need a faction behind me.  I’ve these folks here in Section 214.  The people in Section 215 and everyone inside this arena.  The men and women who punch a clock at a factory each and every day.   The small businessmen who scratch and claw to make it work from week to week, day to day, and hour to hour.  Those are the people I consider to be my faction.  These are the folks I go out and wrestle for every time I step into the ring.   Not an eMpire.  Not an Industry.  And certainly not whatever Hollywood Bros faction who just showed up in HOW.

Blaire Moise: So getting back to tonight, you find yourself here in Section 214-

The entire section stands up and cheers, nearly drowning Blaire out.

Blaire Moise (speaking louder): . . . rooting for Brenton Cross.

Joe Bergman: That’s right.  That’s the most frustrating thing about this.  Because I lost last week there’s nothing I can do now but sit here and hope that Brenton Cross can pull off the win tonight.  If not, then Max is going to win the group-

Dawn interrupts Joe and points a finger at Blaire.

Dawn McGill (heatedly): We’re not giving up Blaire.  No way in hell.  Joe’s a warrior.  He fought like hell against the odds at Rumble at the Rock.  He proved it again last week against Max.  Until Joe is officially eliminated, you can bet your ass that we will do everything possible to find a way to win the DeNucci Group.

Blaire’s a little taken aback by the sharp tone of McGill’s voice.  But she wraps up the segment.

Blaire Moise: Okay.  Thank you Joe Bergman and Dawn McGill.  That’s all from Section 214.  Back to you Joe and Benny.

Joe Hoffman: Thanks Blaire.  We’re going to find out in a couple minutes if Max Kael wins the DeNucci Group as he takes on Brenton Cross in a critical Group C match of which Max will also be defending the LSD Title.  Going into tonight, Kael, Cross, and Joe Bergman are all tied at six points each in the DeNucci Group or Group C.

Benny Newell: It’s over Joe.  As sure as I’m sitting here with my arm in a fucking sling thanks to that fucking sociopath Cecilworth Farthington, three points for Max Kael is a lead pipe cinch and you can close the book on the DeNucci Group.

Joe Hoffman: I’m sure Brenton Cross is going to have something to say about that Benny.  A win for Cross not only would give him the LSD title but would also open the door for him to move on in the LBI.

Quick cut to Section 214 in the upper reaches of the Allstate Arena.  Joe Bergman leans forward, elbows on knees, hands on chin, and watches the match with the people with great interest. However, the seat next to him that was occupied by Dawn McGill is empty at the moment.

Joe Hoffman: And you know Joe Bergman will be rooting for Cross to win tonight.

Benny Newell: Not going to happen.

The HOV fires up…

Joe Hoffman: Let’s look back at how we got to this point.

(Refueled XIV- Warrick Hill vs. Max Kael)
Max is holding his throat and clutching his mask as Warrick musters enough strength to hop onto the top rope and propel himself through the air and deliver a flying forearm.

Joe Hoffman: THE JOINT!  THE JOINT!

Warrick scrambles to a cover.

Uno.  Dos. Tres.

Hortega signals for the bell and everyone is stunned.

Joe Hoffman: Warrick Hill just pulled a massive upset here tonight!

(Refueled XV- Brenton Cross vs. Joe Bergman)
WHAM!!!!  WHAM!  WHAM!!

Dawn McGill jumps the barricade and nails Cross stiffly in the back a few times and Cross falls immediately face first in front of the knees of a dazed Joe Bergman. 

Hortega looks on as Cross has gone completely limp and glassy eyed.  He’s gone.  Hortega doesn’t even need to check, he can see Cross has officially blacked out in the middle of the ring, clear as day thanks to Joe Bergman’s sleeper hold

DING!  DING!  DING!  DING!

Bryan McVay:  Here is your winner via submission:  JOOOOOOOOOE BERGMAN!!!!!

(Refueled XVI- LSD Title Cage Match: Max Kael © vs. Joe Bergman)
Instinctively Max is able to grab the leg as he slams it back down into the cage wall and follows through with another vicious head butt that nearly knocks Bergman out as Max pushes him off the top of the steel cage and Bergman lands hard on the mat below.

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 let’s go as he falls down to the outside floor.

DING DING DING

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

Joe Hoffman: So here’s what it comes down to.  If Max Kael wins tonight, he wins the DeNucci Group with nine points and will face the winner of the GOD Group on March 14^th.  If Brenton Cross wins tonight, Cross will then be on nine points, Max will be eliminated, and it will come down to the Joe Bergman- Austin Reeves match in two weeks to determine whether Cross or Bergman wins the group.

Benny Newell: Max has got this.  I even brought an extra bottle of Jack tonight to celebrate.

Benny raises up the bottle of Jack Daniels with his one good arm.

Smoke appears at the entrance.

*“Cochise”- Audioslave*

Cross walks through the smoke, his eyes fixed on the ring.

Joe Hoffman: We’re going to find out soon enough Benny.  Here comes the challenger right now.

Acknowledging nobody, a focused Brenton Cross walks down to the ring. He slides in, standing center ring then finally looks up to the crowd and soaks in the amazement.

Bryan McVay:  Introducing first, Hailing from Dallas, TX, weighing in at 230 pounds…ladies and gentlemen, I present to you….. BREEEEEEEEEENTON CROSSSSSSSSS….

The music then cuts to:

*Emperor Palpatine’s Theme- The Epic Dark Side Mix*

The crowd roars as the flag of North Kaelrea appears on the High Octane Vision.

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 ring.

The champion’s eye does not leave Cross 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!

Bryan McVay hands the LSD Championship over to referee Joel Hortega who holds it up in the air.

Joe Hoffman: Benny, I would not underestimate Brenton Cross.  When these two men met last year at Refueled IX, Cross gave Max a real fight before Kael finally was able to hit the Weapon of Max Destruction on him to pull out the win and retain the LSD title.

Benny Newell: Nope.  Max lost one he shouldn’t have early in the LBI.  He’s not losing here.

*DING-DING*

Joe Hoffman: And we will find out soon enough as we are under way.

Kael bails right out to keep Cross at bay for a moment.   Cross just glares at him while Max takes his sweet time outside the ring.

Joe Hoffman: Max playing a little mind games with Brenton Cross.

Kael returns and mocks Cross.  Then the two tie up.  Kael goes for a quick headbutt – Cross slips to the side.  Cross goes for Max’s legs.  Max blocks – both men fight for position.

Eventually they end up on the ropes.  Hortega calls for a break.

Kael steps back and then tries to sucker punch Cross – Cross narrowly avoids Kael’s right hand.  Cross bails out and he takes a walk outside the ring.

Kael beckons Cross to return as the challenger paces on the floor.

Joe Hoffman: A subdued start to this one compared to their match last year.  The last time these two met, it was a hardcore fan’s dream match as both men used an assortment of weapons throughout.  Staple guns.  Wrenches.  Cheese Graters.  Fire Extinguishers.

Benny Newell: Max is outsmarting Cross.

Joe Hoffman: How?

Benny Newell: He’s changing things up to keep Cross off balance.  I can taste that fresh new bottle of Jack Daniels – except I’ll need some help opening it.   DRINK!

Kael rolls out of the ring and pulls something from under the ring.  Cross then decides to climb back in.  Max then returns with a bamboo stick.

Joe Hoffman: And there’s the first weapon of the night.

Benny Newell: See?  Changing things up.  When was the last time you saw Max with a bamboo stick?   

Cross tells him to keep back.  Hortega tries to get Max to put the stick down.  Max tells the referee he’ll play fair – then he spins and swings on Cross!  Cross avoids a lashing.  Kael lunges at him with the bamboo stick – Cross ducks – gets the legs and tries to take him down.  Max scrambles around to get Cross’s legs, too. Both men fight over leg lock control – Cross finally gets Kael down.  Kael gets to ropes but Cross is right on him. The ref calls for the break and Cross backs off.  Again, Max takes a swing at Cross and he ducks the punch.  Kael slithers out.  The bamboo stick ends up on the floor somewhere.

Joe Hoffman: Again, Max is really working to keeping Cross off balance.

Benny Newell: He’s totally fucking with him Hoffman and it’s wonderful to watch.

Cross grows frustrated and jumps out of the ring.   He pursues Kael around the outside.  Both slide back in the ring – Kael dropkicks Cross – Cross driven back to the corner.

*THWACK*

Cross doubles over from a knife edge chop.

*THWACK*

Another knife edged chop.  Max whips Cross corner to corner hard. And then slaps Cross who’s down on the mat.

Joe Hoffman: Cross lost his patience and now Max is going to work on him.

Benny Newell: Joe, I’m serious.  I’m going to need someone’s help opening this celebratory bottle of Jack.

Kael puts Cross in the corner and delivers another knife-edged chop. Max walks back to the other corner – takes off – and rams into Cross with a running splash.  Cross falls to the mat.  Max covers.

Uno…

Tw- No.  Cross kicks out.

Kael pulls Cross to his feet and goes for a German suplex.  Cross blocks – grabs the ropes but Max won’t let go.  Hortega starts a five count.

Kael lets go at four but again tries to cheapshot Cross on the way out – Cross beats him to it with a thumb to Kael’s good eye.   Leaps up – Hurricanrana’s the LSD champion to the mat.

Joe Hoffman: Max went to the well once too often.

Benny Newell: What the hell’s happening here?

Cross clubs Kael with right hands. Kael staggers back – Cross stomps him down.  Cross brings Kael up – diving uppercut decks the champion!   Kael writhes.  Cross hooks the legs for the cover.

Uno…

Dos- No.  Max powers out and rolls right out of the ring.

Cross follows him out – Max strikes back and lariats him down.   Kael brings Cross up to slam Cross’s face into the ringpost.  Cross blocks – pokes Max in the eye again – rams Kael face first into the ring apron.  The LSD champion falls to his knees leaning against the ring apron.

Cross jumps back into the ring to refresh the count and rolls back out.

Joe Hoffman: Now the action is starting to pick up.

Benny Newell: Cross is cheating and using unsavory tactics against the LSD champion.

Joe Hoffman: Unsavory?

Benny Newell: Did I use that word right?

Cross goes and gets a steel chair.  He swings – Kael ducks and retaliates with a kick to the ribs causing Cross to drop the chair.  Kael takes Cross and heaves him into the steel steps.  Now Max has the chair –

*WHAM*

– metal on metal as Cross spins away at the last second.

Hortega’s count reaches seven.

Joe Hoffman: Double count-out or count-out keeps the title on Max Kael.

Benny Newell: But he could lose a shot at winning the group.  GET BACK IN THE RING MAX!

And Max alertly does gets back into the ring.

Cross dives back in at nine and Max greets him by laying the boots to him.  Cross fights to his feet.  Max again with a stiff right hand.  Cross spins around – Back Heel Kick.  Cross charges forward as Max stumbles back to a corner – SPEAR . . . MISSES!  Cross rams the corner turnbuckle and falls to the mat.  Kael pushes Cross over for a cover.

Uno…

Dos…

TH-CROSS GETS A FOOT ON THE BOTTOM ROPE!

Joe Hoffman: That was close!

Benny Newell: DAMMIT HORTEGA!

Benny claps his hands- no wait, he can’t.  Instead, Benny whaps his good hand on the desk three times very fast.

Benny Newell: UNO-DOS-TRES!

Kael lifts Cross up and places him upside down over the corner turnbuckle in the Tree of Woe.  The fans get fired up as Max goes top rope.  He jumps and drives his elbow into Cross’s balls!  Cross folds up and falls to the mat.

Max to the top turnbuckle.  He leaps – flying headbutt.  Max scrambles back for the cover.

Uno…

Dos…

TH-NO, Cross JUST gets the shoulder up.

Enraged, Kael wraps his hands around Cross’s throat and just tries to choke him out.  Hortega starts an immediate count.

Joe Hoffman: That’s just blatant.

Benny Newell: Would you really expect anything less from him?

Max finally relents at 4.9.

He stands and drags Cross up.  Max hooks the arms – lifts – drives Cross down on the back of his neck.

Joe Hoffman: Tiger Driver 91!

Max hooks the legs.

Uno…

Dos…

TH-NO!  Cross kicks out at 2.8

Joe Hoffman: Wow!  Brenton Cross isn’t done yet.

Benny Newell: HOW?  How the fuck did he kick out of that?

Max is wondering the same thing.  Again he pulls Cross up.  Irish whip – no, Cross reverses and whips Max to the ropes.  Backdrop, no – Kael knees the back drop away.  Fireman’s carry by Max – Cross slips out.  He runs the ropes.  Max ducks the running clothesline.  Cross from the other side.  Max goes for the boot to the groin – Cross swats the foot to the side.  Kael elbows back.  Cross grabs an arm and slings Max into the corner – Kael hits hard on the post.   Cross climbs up on the turnbuckle behind Kael – Kael throws elbows but to no avail.  Cross clubs Kael with a right hand then climbs up again.

Joe Hoffman: Cross just refuses to give up.  He keeps coming back.

He goes to pull Kael up – Kael walks out and takes fireman’s carry – no, Cross fights his way off.  He scoops Kael – lift – SUPLEX!

Benny Newell: NOOOOOOO!

Cross crawls over for the cover…

Uno…

Dos- Max shoots the shoulder up.

The HOW fans rally up as both Kael and Cross slowly rise back to their feet.  Cross grabs Max and goes to whip him across the ring – no, Max reverses – he sends Cross for the ride.  Cross goes for a crossbody on the return.  But Max throws Hortega in the way and Cross takes him down instead.

Joe Hoffman: OH!  Crossbody to referee Jorge Hortega and he’s down.  Brenton Cross can’t believe it!

Benny Newell: DISQUALIFY HIM HORTEGA!

Joe Hoffman: He can’t.  He’s down at the moment.

As Cross glances down at Hortega, Max maneuvers in behind him and waits.  Cross turns – Max boots Cross straight in the balls.

Joe Hoffman: OH!  Max went low again!

Benny Newell: He slipped.

Joe Hoffman: That looked pretty deliberate to me Benny.

Benny Newell: Completely accidental.  DRINK!

Doubled over in pain, Cross falls back to the ropes just as a commotion erupts on the outside.

Joe Hoffman: There’s something going on in the stands-

Benny Newell: WHAT THE FUCK IS SHE DOING HERE?

Joe Bergman’s manager Dawn McGill’s has just jumped the rail with a steel folding chair in hand and runs right for Max.

Joe Hoffman: It’s Dawn McGill and she’s going after Max!

Benny Newell: NOOOOOO!

McGill winds up and swings the chair with everything she’s got.

At the last possible second, Max desperately yanks Cross into the path of the incoming chairshot.

*WHAM*

Cross turns and collapses over the ropes.

Joe Hoffman: SHE MISSED MAX AND HIT BRENTON CROSS!

McGill’s jaw drops and she lets go of the chair.

Joe Hoffman: She just took out Cross with the chair!

Benny Newell: Oh thank Lee.

McGill can’t believe what she’s just done.

Joe Hoffman: Dawn McGill came down to take out Max and it just backfired horribly.  Max Kael is now in complete control of this match.

Benny Newell: Someone’s got to wake up Hortega though.   COME ON MAX!

Max whips around and follows with a wicked forearm to the back of Cross’s head.

Joe Hoffman: GASLIGHTER!

Cross staggers off the ropes back towards Max.

Benny Newell: I APPROVE OF THAT MOVE!

Max gives Cross a headbutt and Cross’s legs go rubbery.  The LSD champion goes for the kill.  Max next to him – puts his hand across Cross to his shoulder – leaps – sits out – and brings the jaw of Cross down right on his shoulder.

Joe Hoffman: WEAPON OF MAX DESTRUCTION!

Benny Newell: I APPROVE OF THAT MOVE TOO!

Benny bumps his broken arm against the edge of the broadcast table.

Benny Newell: OWWWW . . . FUCK!

Wasting no time, Max goes over and shakes Hortega back to life.  Then he makes the cover.  Hortega rolls over to make the count.

Uno…

Dos…

TRES!

*DING-DING-DING-DING*

Joe Hoffman: And Max Kael is the winner of the DeNucci Group!

Benny Newell: AND I APPROVE OF THIS RESULT!

Bryan McVay steps into the ring to make the final call on the match.

Bryan McVay: Your winner and STILL THE LSD CHAMPION!  MAX KAEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLL!

Benny Newell: LONG MAY HE MAIM!  YEE-AHHHHHHHH-

Again, Benny bumps the desk with his injured arm.

Benny Newell: -OWWWW!  DAMMIT!

Hortega returns the LSD title to Max.

Joe Hoffman: Give Brenton Cross credit.  Cross put up a fight tonight and it was unfortunate that Dawn McGill blasted him with a chair shot by mistake.  But Max Kael wins to retain the LSD title and will now face whoever survives the Group of Death which right now looks like Lindsay Troy’s group to win. Especially if she defeats M.J. Flair later on tonight in our main event.

Benny Newell: Blah blah blah.  You just watch Hoffhole.  Mike Best is going to find a way to come back starting tonight when he defeats High Flyer.

Joe Hoffman: I guess we will see about that later on tonight.

Joe notices Benny’s struggling mightily to find a way to open his celebratory bottle of Jack Daniels.

Joe Hoffman: Is there a problem?

Benny Newell (sarcastically): No Joe.  There’s no fucking problem here.   Help me with this would you?   Or is there a technician backstage?  Is there an intern?  Someone in the crowd?  Can someone please help me open up this bottle of Jack?

The action cuts to a commercial break as the Chicago crowd is still buzzing over what they just witnessed.

Back live and we cut backstage…..

Max stalks down the back hall of the Best Arena, his back to the screen as his raspy mechanical breathing alerts anyone he approaches of his arrival. The LSD Championship hangs by the strap from his right hand. Random staff scatter before him as he marches his way toward the eMpire’s locker room, kicking the door in triumphantly as he spins on his heel to look into the Camera with his strange blue eye.

Max Kael: That secures it, North Kaelreans, the Lord Supreme Dictator, North Kaelrean General Maximillian Wilhelm Kael has twice in a row defended my LSD Championship and proven that I am the greatest LBI Competitor in History! I marched through two opponents resulting in a flawless LBI run, Hah-hah!

Max’s mechanical laugh is jarring as his blue eye swivels from side to side to see if anyone was going to call him on his obvious fib about a flawless LBI run. Realizing that he is in fact cutting a promo where no one else is talking Max wipes a bit of sweat off his brow before continuing.

Max Kael: Now we play the waiting game to decide who it is I am going to have to defeat in order to move on to face my good friend Cecilworth Farthington for mine.. Our.. HIS.. #97red High Octane Wrestling World Championship.. This is, of course, after I win the LBI. I still don’t know who it is I’m going to have to face for the LBI but my history with Michael is 1-0 in the Lee Best Invitational.. So I like my odds.

Lifting the LSD Championship up the visible parts of Max’s face contort in a way that makes it seem as though he might be smiling beneath his breath mask.

Max Kael: You know who isn’t making it out of the Group of Death and from the looks of it never should have been in it? M.J. Flair, the wonder girl who couldn’t pick her sad sack of shit ass up off the ground since I took this LSD Championship from her way the fuck back at Rumble at the Rock. I’ve defended my, MY, LSD Championship two weeks in a row and won. MJF you came in like a wrecking ball but now all you is lose. You don’t deserve an LSD Championship, you deserve to work a program with Darin Mathews, go help make an up and coming talent look good, if you can. Pathetic..

He slowly backed up further into the locker room as he tossed the LSD Championship to the side, his hands rubbing together menacingly as his shoulders hunch and his posture takes on a more feral appearance.

Max Kael: You know who else isn’t making it out of the LBI bracket? The other chump I defeated over and over and over again, High Flyer Jack Harmen. While it would have been nice to have a solid sleeper match in the LBI I’d likely be bored to tears. I pride myself but beating you.. It’s just become a chore. Work hard, train hard and maybe someday you might be as great as me, kid. Oh wait. You’ve been doing this as long as I have? Paaathetic. Hang’em up.

A hissing scrambled twisting laugh crackled through the voice box on Max’s mask as he laughed at his own words. He looked around to see if Mike and Cecilworth were there to share but alas, as was so often these days, they were not. Max’s excitement turned to a mild look of depression before he continued.

Max Kael: That leaves Dan Ryan and Lindsey Troy and right now Troy has the tie breaker. I’ve never trusted someone named after an ancient city that was famously so stupid they accepted in a literal Trojan Horse which broke their defense. Idiots. Michael might have kicked the moisture right out of your mossy bank but I’ll slap those teeth of yours right down your throat and make you wish my brother was gracing you with one of his knees. Dan Ryan, you’re a tub of human playdough sculpted into what can be politely called a human male. You’re what shows up when you say Pudding Cowboy three times in a mirror at a Texas Road House bathroom. 

He pauses near a locker wrapping his knuckles against it roughly as the banging sound echoes around the locker room.

Max Kael: But that all can wait. The LBI isn’t over yet and there are still plenty of surprises. So let’s look forward to next week shall we, my brave, loyal North Kaelreans.. 

His fingers disengage the lock on the locker room door allowing the #97red door to swing open to reveal the two High Octane Wrestling Tag Team Title Belts. Max gazes upon the belts with a look of fondness in his blue eye before he looked back at the camera. A low, gurgling laugh slowly builds into one of unhinged joy before the feed cuts out.

As we come back from to ringside we see the Hall of Fame team ready for the next highly anticipated match up.

Joe Hoffman: Next up is a match up from the Group of Deah group of the LBI.

Benny Newell: And it’s living up to it’s name Joe as Dan Ryan and that chocolate goddess, Lindsay Troy are tied for first. .

Joe Hoffman: She’s Italian Benny, but to add to your statement we have one person statically eliminated and our next match up could determine another.

Benny Newell: Black. Italian. It’s all the shame when Big Buff is raining down little Benny’s on them….or is it in them?

“All Aboard!

“AH HA HA HA HA HA HA HA…”

The cackle from Ozzy Osbourne is heard throughout the arena as “Crazy Train” by Ozzy starts to play and a light fog rises up from the entrance way as the opening guitar rift kicks in.

Bryan McVay: The following contest is scheduled for one fall and it is unofficially for the HOFC championship. Introducing first, hailing from Bethlehem, Pennsylvania and weighing in at 224 lbs….he is HIGH! FLLLLYYYYYYYEEEEEEEER!

Parting the smoke is High Flyer, who stands confidently at the top of the entrance ramp. He tosses one hand up in a devil horn taunt, and smiles slyly to the camera.

Joe Hoffman: High Flyer hasn’t found his footing since stepping into a HOW ring.

Benny Newell: Footing? He’s a loser Joe.

Joe Hoffman: High Flyer has come close many times in his matches but he’s always come up a little short.

Benny Newell: Like I said Hoffman, a loser. L-O-S-E-R! Second place is the first loser and third place no one remembers and High Flyer takes home the participation ribbons of eighteenth place all the time.

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

“Personal Yeezus” by Depeche Mode ft. Kanye West slaps fucking bass over the sound system, its sweet opening riffs heralding the arrival of the SON OF GOD, Michael Lee Best.

Bryan McVay: And his opponent, representing the eMpire, hailing from Chicago, Illinois and weighing in at 235 lbs…..he is the unofficial HOFC champion! MIKE! BEEEEEEESSSSSST!

The always polarizing wrestling veteran steps out slowly onto the stage, making his way toward the ramp. As he saunters toward the ring, Mike makes a big show of making sure the camera gets a good zoomed in shot as he flips the bird, displaying his Hall of Fame ring prominently.

Joe Hoffman: Mike is looking pretty confident and he’s going to need it if he wants to stay alive in this tournament.

Benny Newell: Hoffman, if my arm was fucking killing me I’d bitch slap the hell out of you. Of course he’s confident, he’s Mike fucking Best! The SON of GOD. He knocked out that jailbait skank, MJ Flair, last show, and if he faces Dan Ryan he’s going to be a six time ICON champion.

Joe Hoffman: He has…..

Benny Newell: SIX TIME!

He approaches the apron, rolling under the bottom rope and standing to his feet in the ring. Michael slowly makes his way toward his corner, stretching and preparing for the beginning of the match as his music begins to quiet and fade away.

Once the announcer is out of the ring, Joel Hortega checks both individuals and calls for the bell.

Ding. Ding.

Joe Hoffman: And here we go…..

The two men come out of their respective corners and Mike goes to lock up with Flyer, but he uses his speed to duck under the attempt and drill Mike in the face with a European uppercut. Flyer, kicks the legs of Mike sending the Hall of Famer closer and closer to the corner. Flyer doubles over Mike with a quick kick to the gut and follows it up with a high knee that sends Mike stumbling back into the corner.

Joe Hoffman: Flyer came out on fire.

Benny Newell: Yeah but he’ll fizzle out like he always does.

Harmen looks at Mike and pats his leg a few times before signaling for the choo-choo train.

Joe Hoffman: High Flyer is looking to end it right know.

Flyer charges at the corner and looks to take Mike’s head off with that running Yazuka kick, but Mike isn’t as beaten down and uses every ounce of speed to avoid the attack.

Benny Newell: Instead of High Flyer he should be Crash and Burn.

Harmen’s leg is hung up on the top rope and Mike takes advantage of the situation by using the ropes for extra leverage as he pulls on the appendage.

Joe Hoffman: Flyer screaming in pain.

Benny Newell: Music to my ears Joe.

Hortega tells Mike he needs to get out of the corner.

Uno.

Dos.

Tres.

Cuatro.

Cinc….

Mike breaks it up by jumping to the outside of the ring while holding the leg of High Flyer causing it to slingshot back in.

Joe Hoffman: Mike Best needed to ground High Flyer and he’s doing a great job at that.

Benny Newell: He’s toying with him Joe.

Best quickly rolls back into the ring and begins to stomp away at the right leg of Harmen. Mike picks up the leg and says colorful things to Harmen before making a wish with it.

Joe Hoffman: That hurt.

Benny Newell: I call that move the hymen smasher.

Mike doesn’t give Flyer another second to breathe as he quickly grabs the leg again and spikes it into the canvas like a DDT before wrapping his legs around Flyer’s leg.

Joe Hoffman: Mike showcasing his submission mastery as he is breaking down the leg of Flyer.

Benny Newell: I’m hoping he explodes his knee Joe.

Hortega asks Flyer if he wants to quit but Harmen flips him the bird and Mike wrenches back on the leg causing Jack to scream like a banshee in agony.

Benny Newell: Flyer screams like that hooker I fucked in the bathroom before the show started.

Harmen tries to fight off the pain by clubbing the legs of Mike Best, but it doesn’t work.

Joe Hoffman: Flyer needs to try and make it to the ropes.

Benny Newell: Fuck that Hoffman. He needs to tap out like the loser he is.

Harmen looks over and sees the ropes are close and reaches out but he’s inches away. Harmen begins to slap himself in the face.

Benny Newell: Look Hoffman, he’s tapping.

Joe Hoffman: I think he’s psyching himself up Benny.

Benny Newell: Don’t try to make excuses for the loser.

Harmen lets out a primal scream as he sits up and twists his body and begins to build momentum to roll.

Joe Hoffman: He’s gonna get to the ropes.

As Flyer builds the momentum needed to turn onto his belly Mike transitions from knee bar to half crab.

Joe Hoffman: What genius by Mike Best to lock in another submission hold while Flyer was attempting to escape.

Benny Newell: Well he is the SON of GOD Hoffman.

Mike begins to smile as he smells the blood in the water and he pulls tightly on the leg causing Harmen to scream out in pain.

Benny Newell: I think he said he quit right there Joe.

Hortega asks Harmen again if he wants to quit and this time he gets a double bird as an answer.

Joe Hoffman: Flyer showing us grit here tonight.

Benny Newell: Grit? More like idiocy.

Mike isn’t playing around anymore as he spins and locks in an arm trap STF

Joe Hoffman: Mike with the Battlemania Stretch.

Benny Newell: Yes! YES! BREAK HIS FUCKING SHOULDER TOO!

Mike has the submission locked in but he begins to scream in pain.

Benny Newell: The fuck?

Mike’s screams begin to intensify to the point to releases the hold and trickle of blood flows through his fingers as he holds his wrist.

Benny Newell: Did he just bite him Hoffman?

Joe Hoffman: I think so Benny.

Benny Newell: Biting is against the rules! Disqualify him you beaner!

Mike shakes out the damage and marches over to the downed High Flyer and reaches down, but Harmen pops up and drills the former world champion with a cutter.

Joe Hoffman: Flyer flew off the ground to hit that cutter.

Benny Newell: Really Hoffman? Really?

With both men down Hortega begins his mandatory count.

Uno.

Dos.

Tres.

Cuatro.

Cinco.

High Flyer begins to stir and crawl towards Best.

Sies.

Siete.

Flyer reaches best and rolls him over.

Cover.

Uno.

Dos.

Tres.

NO!

Mike is able to pop his shoulder up in the nick of time.

Joe Hoffman: Harmen almost had the win there!

Benny Newell: Mike doesn’t lose Hoffman.

Joe Hoffman: Adonis Smyth says differently.

Benny Newell: FUCK YOU HOFFHOLE!

Harmen rolls to the ropes and uses them to help himself get to his feet. Harmen beats on his leg to get the feeling back before looking back at the downed Mike Best and using the ropes as a springboard.

Joe Hoffman: Moonsault!

Uno.

Dos.

Tre….

NO!

Shoulder up.

Flyer drops a quick knee to the face of Mike before building a head of steam hitting the ropes and dropping an elbow. Flyer does this three more times before finishing the attack with……

Joe Hoffman: ROLLING THUNDER!

Cover.

Uno.

Dos.

Treeeee…….

No!

Mike kicks out.

Flyer hits the mat in frustration and pulls Mike up to his feet and locks in a standing guillotine choke.

High Flyer: TAP! TAP YOU SON OF A BITCH!

Harmen yells as he tightens his grip on the Dragon Sleep.

Joe Hoffman: Flyer taking a page out of Mike’s playbook here.

Benny Newell: Mike Best doesn’t tap Hoffman.

Joe Hoffman: Scott Stevens says hi.

Benny Newell: FUCK YOU!

Mike tries to escape by driving that Hall of Fame ring of his into the ribs of High Flyer.

Joe Hoffman: Harmen can’t possibly take much more of those Hall of Fame ring shots to the ribs.

Benny Newell: He takes shots to the face by Dan Ryan all the time. HEY-O!

Mike’s last punch staggers Harmen’s footing enough for Mike to grab him and suplex him overhead.

Joe Hoffman: Northern Lights! There’s the bridge!

Uno.

Dos.

Tres.

NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Benny Newell: Bullshit!

Mike flips his body to the mount position on top of High Flyer and begins to rain down right hands to the face of High Flyer.

Joe Hoffman: The Maul of Fame by Mike.

Mike really begins to put an exclamation point on his punches as he grabs High Flyer’s hair and yanks to back and begins to deliver rapid fire punches until the Hall of Fame ring slices Flyer’s cheek.

Benny Newell: Bleed bitch! BLEEEEEEEEEED!

Mike lets out a primal scream as he pops to his feet and begins to unleash a flurry of stomps to the face of Harmen before reaching down to pick him up. Mike whips High Flyer against the ropes and looks prepared to knock his head off with a….

Joe Hoffman: Hashtag Muted missed!

Benny Newell: Don’t turn around Mike!

The superkick from Mike Best misses it’s mark and as the Hall of Famer turns around High Flyer grabs Mike and spikes him on his head.

Joe Hoffman: FLYER DRIVER!

Cover.

Uno.

Dos.

Tres.

NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Benny Newell: YES! FUCK YOU FLYER! FUCK MY ARM!

Harmen can’t believe as he immediately jumps to his feet and gets in the face of the official and grabs him by his shirt and begins yelling at him.

Joe Hoffman: Flyer needs to be careful as he risking disqualification.

Harmen lets go of Hortega and turns his attention back to Mike Best. Harmen reaches down to pick up Best, but Mike was playing possum as he pulls his arm in close and wraps his legs around Harmen’s neck.

Benny Newell: AHAHAHAHAHAHA! HE’S GONNA TAP FIVE TIMES!

Joe Hoffman: The FiveTime-Out triangle choke is locked in.

However, Mike made the mistake of underestimated Harmen’s reach when he pulled him in as he drives his violently rakes the eyes of his opponent.

Benny Newell: Illegal just like Hortega!

Flyer hits the ropes and springboards to deliver a senton bomb. Harmen unleashes a series of kicks before reaching down and picking up Mike and placing him in the Fireman’s Carry position.

Joe Hoffman: Flyer could do a lot to Mike from that position. Death Valley Driver, Rolling Senton, TKO Cutter…..

Benny Newell: Shut the fuck up! You’re worse than Stevenspedia.

Flyer starts to run forward, but his forward momentum is suddenly halted as he whiplashes backwards and his driven to the canvas.

Joe Hoffman: JESUS COMPLEX!

Benny Newell: CHRIST PLOW HAS RETURNED TO DELIVER US FROM LOSERDOM!

UNO!

DOS!

TRES!

NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Joe Hoffman: HE KICKED OUT!

Benny Newell: FUCK!

Everyone in the arena including Mike Best cannot believe Harmen kicked out of his crucifix driver. Mike gets to his feet and lowers down his knee pad and yells for Harmen to get up. Flyer gets to his knees and Mike rushes towards him.

Joe Hoffman: I Kneed A Hero…..NO!

Flyer moves out of the and when Mike turns he gets doubled over and spiked on his head as Harmen’s leg gives under him.

Joe Hoffman: Hypothermia by Flyer!

Instead of going for the cover, Harmen begins to slowly make his way over to the corner.

Joe Hoffman: High Flyer looking to end it here.

Harmen slowly makes his way to the top and cautiously begins to stand to balance himself before launching himself off.

Joe Hoffman: Five and a half star Frog Splash!

The move is beautifully executed into a waiting Mike Best as he pops up and delivers  knees to the face.

Joe Hoffman: The Blackout! The Blackout! Mike used David Black’s Blackout to block the frog splash.

Benny Newell: I miss David Black.

Mike gets to his feet and hits the ropes and as High Flyer raises his head he gets blasted by double knees to the face.

Joe Hoffman: The Raynes of Castamere….

Benny Newell: It’s called the Deez Knees Hoffhole!

Mike rolls Harmen onto his back and hooks a leg.

Uno.

Dos.

Tres.

Hortega signals for the bell.

Bryan McVay: And your winner by pinfall and STILL! UNOFFICIAL HOFC CHAMPION! MIKE! BEEEEEEESSSSSST!

Mike grabs his title from Hortega and clutches it close.

Joe Hoffman: Mike survives here tonight.

Benny Newell: Survives? He didn’t need to survive when High Flyer loses is a guarantee.

Hortega continues to check on High Flyer as Mike smells the blood in the water and positions himself to pounce as he motions for High Flyer to get up. However, Dan Ryan and Lindsay Troy rush to the ring to protect their Industry brethren and Mike, like the snake that he is, slithers to the outside and hops the barricade only to disappear into the crowd as Troy yells for Mike to come back and Ryan checks on Harmen as we cut away.

“Fffrfftpop!”

Cutting live to the increasingly familiar sight of that universal symbol of the late 20th/early 21st century workplace, a cubicle, a cork goes flying up and over the felt grey walls. Our cameraman works his way around to the double wide opening to catch Alexander Redding and Teddy Palmer mid-champagne (in lieu of water pistols) fight.

Teddy Palmer: That’s how we do it, Cochise!

Ted is sporting a limited edition ‘Embosser Undisputed Champion’ t- shirt, torn blue jeans and brown leather Timberlands. The smile and sheer excitement on his face reminiscent of a child on Christmas morning. His hair is soaked, eyes irritated red due to the lack of protection and his clothes dripping wet with the bubbly.

Alexander Redding: Plan the work. Work the plan.

Red had showered and changed since his pre-show win over Rick Dickulous, standing in the ‘20 edition Red & Ted logo tee, loose fitting acid wash jeans, Airwalks and ski goggles. He’d need to change and shower again later, but came prepared for a celebration. As half of the bottles had already been expelled in the spray fight, Red pulls the bottle up, and his head backwards.

Teddy Palmer: A little bit of the… can we legally say it? Either way, this shit’s too sweet to actually drink all of it.

OSV: Wait, these guys again? I thought I made it clear that….

Redding takes a seat up on the poker table as Ted sets his bottle down. Palmer dives around to the obscured bar fridge and pulls out a can of Pabst Blue Ribbon.

OSV: Fine. Fine.

A heavy sigh was heard as our picture shifted back out of the cubicle to catch Blaire Moise walking pissed-off purposefully to the edge of the cubicle’s opening. She stops to look at the puddle on the ground and dares not go any further and risk ruining a good pair of Miu Mius.

Blaire Moise: Ahhemm. Could I please get a word with you two… gentlemen?

A genuine smile flashes on Teddy Palmer’s face as he stepped forward. Alex opted for a spiteful grin, but hopped down from the table just the same.

Blaire Moise: Thanks. First things first, I guess congratulations are in order.

Teddy Palmer: Thank-you, Blaire Bear. But no, I do not accept gifts of congratulations in the form of sexual favours, so, let’s keep this professional, okay?

A snort of disgust escapes our otherwise stalwart reporter.

Alexander Redding: Feels good. Feels damn good.

Red pulls a reverse CSI Miami, delivering the line while pulling down the eyewear, and just letting the goggles hang around his neck by the strap.

Blaire Moise: You two have just managed to become the first tag team to enter the LBI and win your respective groups without losing one match. I think it’s fair to say that you’ve surprised many here in the locker room, and most of the HOW faithful with this performance to-date; but, is any of this surprising to you?

Red and Ted share a knowing glance before turning back to answer.

Teddy Palmer: On one hand, I want to say no; But on the other, I have to, yes, entirely. This is usually the point where someone does something stupid, says the wrong thing, gets photographed with the wrong people, and we get el Pink-o Slip-o.

Alexander Redding: Lee’s got his new shiny toys, now, what with Kendicks, Unlikeable, Pretentious and Murrr Jr’s worse counterpart. We might just be expendable.

Blaire takes a beat to get most of the references, no one could expect her to know about an orangutan that hasn’t been seen in a decade. The gears in her mind seem to want to follow down that path, until she has a subtly visible ‘Eureka!’ moment.

Blaire Boise: And having won your Narcotics and Embosser groups respectively, you two will face off, head to head, on our March 14 edition of Refueled. Which of you two will walk away from that match with your undefeated streak still intact?

It was Red & Ted’s turn to share a look of disgust.

Teddy Palmer: I know your Jedi mind fuckery. Not going to work, sweetheart. Do you really want to know who wins our match up? We do.

Alexander Redding: What you have here, Ms. Moise, is a guarantee that Red & Ted have just reached the finals of the Lee Best Invitational, regardless of which of us is representing the squad.

Teddy Palmer nods in agreement, hard enough that some of the champagne in his hair careens through the air.

Alexander Redding: The only thing worth worrying about is whoever makes it out of the DeNucci and Group of Death… groups. We’ll be watching.

The frame fades out on Redding’s grin, Palmer licking more bubbly out of his beard, and Blaire Moise rolling her eyes as we cut to a commercial break.

Back live and we come back to a loud unnerving….

SCREEEEEEECH

A large metal frame, that once was a glorious shade of #97 red, but is now chipped and rusted throughout is dragged along the floor just inside the backstage area of the arena. As wrestlers and caterers, and other backstage employees make their way into the arena, all stop to a take a minute to stare at this impressive contraption.

Lee Best stands there as the metal frame monstrosity is pushed into place, a large, faded “Besty” stenciled into the frame. Lee runs his hand along the frame and offers a rare, wistful smile as he takes a moment to reflect.

Interrupting that reflection, Bobby Dean comes barreling through the door, adorned in his wrestling gear as if he were ready for action. His remarkable robe slung over his shoulder, an ear to ear smile plastered on his cherubic face. Seeing Lee Best standing there, looking at his watch, Bobby marches up and presents himself at attention, his hand up to his forehead in salute.

Bobby Dean: Bobby Dean reporting for duty, sir! Who do ya want me to face tonight Boss Man?

Lee looks at Bobby as if he were a shit stain on the bottom of his boot. Sighing, Lee simply points to Besty as the stagehands get into position.

Bobby Dean: What in the world is that?

Lee Best: A memento from a better time. Now get in.

A stage hand opens the door to the rig as Lee continues to point.

Bobby Dean: Am I getting neutered here?

Lee Best: I’d be doing the world a favor if that were the case, but no. You and I have a deal, and judging by the sweat on that disgustingly fat roll you got hanging precariously over your tights, I gotta admit this isn’t going to be pretty. Now move it.

Bobby slowly lowers his arm from his salute and reluctantly makes his way into the contraption, still not fully aware of just what is going on.

Lee Best: Back in the day I was once the owner of a magnificent beast known as Besty. She was a heifer of impressive stature. We once used this to weigh her. Considering you’re probably as big as she was, I figure we pull this beast out and check for sure. If I’m right, I’m sure I can find a buyer for your fat ass like I did Besty.

Bobby, with his head down in shame walks into the center of the frame, the steel door slamming shut behind him causes him to jump and squeak in surprise. Tentatively stepping onto the metal plate, Lee steps forward and grabs the handheld reader that is attached to the contraption.

Lee Best: … You know what surprises me?

Bobby Dean: That I made weight?

Bobby says this with a triumphant smile on his face as if he just won the lottery of all lotteries.

Lee Best: No. What surprises me isn’t that I knew you would fail, but by how much it still hurts to see how little you care. Go home Bobby. Just go home.

With a sad shake of his bald head, Lee Best turns and walks away leaving a dejected Bobby Dean standing there in his wake.

Bobby Dean: So should I come back next week? Lee? Leonard!? Boss!?

The action cuts away as a still unsigned Bobby looks sadly on as the God of HOW continues on.

Back live from commercial and we cut back to a shot of the Allstate Arena from the outside. A High Octane logo shows up in the corner of the screen before we move inside, to a shot of the fans cheering loudly. The commentary team speaks over the shot. 

Joe Hoffman: Ladies and Gentlemen I’m being informed it’s time to hear from High Octanes four newest signees! The group that we saw show up last week at Refueled XVI and laid absolute waste to The eMpire and The Industry. 

Benny Newell: Hard to argue about how they did it. That is exactly how you want to debut here in HOW…..now can they follow up??

Clips are shown of last week’s events. First the Hollywood Bruvs jump the rail and attack, followed quickly by Andy Murray and Perfection. It all ends with the spike piledriver on Mike Best.

“Gold” by Sir Sly begins to play over the loudspeakers and the lights in the arena turn to gold. A single spotlight hits the stage as the fans realize who’s coming out to the unfamiliar theme. A red carpet rolls down the ramp ending near the ring. 

Almost all at once the four superstars walk through the curtain and stand four wide on the stage. Behind them come a group of large men with security written on the back of their shirts. The crowd has an incredibly mixed reaction of cheers and boos. Either way, they elicit quite the emotional reaction from the HOW faithful. 

Mikey Unlikely and Kendrix have matching Hollywood Bruvs merch shirts on. Murray and Perfection are in their street clothes. Andy has a battered old cricket bat slung over his shoulder, just in case, and on closer inspection, his hair and beard are noticeably greyer than the last time he was active in mainstream American wrestling. The four men begin walking down to the ring. About eight steps behind is the seemingly personal security team. 

Joe Hoffman: Well there you have it. They know after what happened at Refueled XVI that they needed to have a little backup tonight, and it looks like they brought it with them. Look at the size of those guys! 

Benny Newell: Well Lee said he was looking to add to the roster….looks like he just wasn’t going to let them use the EPU however…….smart play on them bringing in their own security….you just KNOW people want to get at them tonight. 

The group reaches the ring. One by one they take the stairs to the ring apron. Mikey and Kendrix wipe their feet on the apron before stepping in almost simultaneously. Perfection sits on the second rope and pushes up on the third, helping the guys through before making his way to the turnbuckle and deciding to use it plus the connecting ropes to lay across, hands behind his head. Murray looks stoic as ever, taking his time getting comfortable. 

Unlikely requests a microphone from the ring announcer and takes it back to the center of the ring as the theme song dies out.

Mikey Unlikely: OI OI! How you like us now? 

Once more the fans react loudly, both in favor and against the group of veterans in the ring. Outside the security detail has one guy on each side of the ring facing the out. Watching for any interference from the crowd or down the ramp. 

Mikey Unlikely: Hey! I’m not talking to all of you…. I’m talking to YOU! 

The Hollywood ‘Superstar’ points up the ramp to the backstage area. 

Mikey Unlikely: eMpire! Industry! Every. Single. Wrestler. In. The. Back… How you like us now? 

After a brief pause, he continues on. 

Mikey Unlikely: 400 episodes of High Octane Television, 400 episodes of some of the best wrestling, some of the most gruesome matches, and some of the most controversial moments in professional wrestling history…. 

Joe Hoffman: Well all of that is certainly true… 

Mikey Unlikely: …and yet Lee Best, the GOD of HOW, has finally saught out, the best in the business, the GOLD standard, The biggest group of SUPERSTARS in Wrestlings long history… to begin the next era in High Octane Wrestling. FEAR NOT fans! Help has arrived! The Hollywood Bruvs will revitalize the tag team division that has been in dire straits, ever since these seemingly group wars began! We’ll bring prestige to the championships that have been so woefully underrepresented! 

Mikey and Kendrix share a gluefist in the ring. (The meeting of knuckles, followed by the illusion of them being stuck together.)

Mikey Unlikely:
Perfection represents the single finest advisor in all of business, let alone our great sport. Negotiating our deals with GOD, while simultaneously training for a return to the ring at a furious pace. The man who’s held World Championships in some of the biggest promotions all over the world is ready to return, RIGHT HERE IN HIGH OCTANE! 

Again a mixed smatter of applause and boos as Perfection rolls off his turnbuckle perch, taking his place behind Mikey Unlikely. As he posts up, his index finger points down at the canvass while shouting an audible “right here, baby”.

Joe Hoffman: A controversial figure in his own right. Many wouldn’t have even thought Perfection would show up here in High Octane Wrestling. Let alone with…

Mikey then looks over to Andy Murray finally and points at him. Murray scans the crowd. 

Mikey Unlikely:
AND YOU! 

The crowd now abuzz. The commentary team can’t help it either. 

Joe Hoffman:
Like you were saying- this is the one that just doesn’t make any sense! Andy Murray teaming up, for the first time in his career, with people of questionable reputation. For the first time, not putting his fans first. 

Mikey Unlikely:
Andy Murray, the man EVERYONE is asking about! Why Andy!? Why would you do it!? Perfection!? The BRUVS!? What makes you want to team with THEM? I’ll let you put the questions to rest. 

He slowly struts over to the corner where Murray stands. He reaches out with the mic. Andy takes the microphone from his name stablemate without making eye contact. He takes the middle of the ring as the crowd’s reaction washes over him.

Joe Hoffman: A very, very mixed response for Andy Murray here. A beloved fan favourite in PTC, UTAH, DEFIANCE, and all around the world… but it’s quite clear something has changed with the multi-time Hall-of-Famer. 

Murray’s expression never changes as he catches a frothing hardcore fan spitting vile abuse at him from the second row, then a disappointed teenager somewhere else on the floor, and a cluster of supporters clad out in vintage Global Championship Wrestling tees. It’s a response unlike any he has experienced in well over a decade.

Benny Newell: I don’t think Big Murr is used to this kind of reception, Joe. 

Joe Hoffman: You’re right, but whatever he’s thinking certainly isn’t showing on his face. I don’t think one facial muscle has moved a millimetre since he got out here! Let’s see what he has to say.

Finally, giving the building a complete 180-degree scan, the man once dubbed ‘The Scottish King of Cool’ raises the microphone to his lips.

That’s when the negativity spikes. Loud pockets of jeers pour from several corners of the Allstate, prompting Murray to immediately pull the microphone back down.

Joe Hoffman: Awww, c’mon…

Andy waits. He’s got all the time in the world. Surrounded by Unlikely, Kendrix, Perfection, and an army of beefy security boys, he’s in no hurry, so he lowers his hands down by his waist.

And he waits.

And waits.

And waits.

Until the jeers die down, replaced by a faint “you sold out!” chant somewhere else in the building. To this, the big Scot points to himself, waves it off, and cracks the slightest of smiles – showing the first hint of anything resembling emotion for the first time since arriving.

Joe Hoffman: I sense this crowd is starting to get a little bit impatient here.

Benny Newell: Nevermind the fucking crowd…

Regardless of (or perhaps because of) the audience, Perfection, Mikey, and Kendrix appear to be loving this. Finally, though, the excruciating wait appears to be coming to an end.

Murray pulls the microphone back up, looks back around the arena, parts his lips.

Hesitates.

Goes for it.

Andy Murray: Nah.

Andy carelessly flings the microphone over his shoulder. It lands just outside the ring with a THUD.

Benny Newell: Are you kidding me?!

Behind Murray, The Hollywood Bruvs high-five each other. Perfection’s sneer widens. Andy? He just shrugs. Mikey Unlikely walks to the corner laughing and requests another mic, because why would he pick one up off the ground?

Mikey Unlikely: That’s right! We do things on our time! Now we’ve got a private box courtesy of Lee Best, we’re going to enjoy the main event from there. Just know this…When GOD retained Mike Best’s shares of the company he put them to GREAT USE! He signed the biggest free agents in the game! We are “24K!” Because we’re 24K, 24/7 Bay Bay! 

“Gold” by Sir Sly hits again and suddenly from the sky drops gold pieces of paper. 

Joe Hoffman: What is that!? 

It travels down and fans begin to grab it as it falls. 

Benny Newell: Fuck me… It’s GOLD Mikey Money….

Joe Hoffman: Unprecedented in High Octane Wrestling. The men calling themselves 24K! Have arrived in HOW, and have laid down their plans…well all but one… 

Benny Newell: What the hell is Andy Murray’s deal? 

The men leave the ring together and hop the barricade. Once over it, the personal security team escorts them up to a suite in section 111 of the AllState Arena. 

Benny Newell: I can’t wait to see what the eMpire and The Industry have to say about these four! I can’t believe this war between factions is about to get even bigger! 

The scene fades as they make it out of camera shot and we take our final commercial break.

The opening clap-stomp beats of “Watch Me” by The Phantoms hit the speakers as the fans jump to their feet, cellphones out, flashbulbs popping. They roar their approval as the lyrics kick in, bringing Lindsay Troy out through the curtain amidst a shower of pyro and cannon blasts. She makes her way down the aisle, spotlights following her path, and she keeps her eyes focused on the ring. Once at the bottom of the ramp, Troy jumps flat-footed onto the apron and flips herself up and over the top rope. She then ascends a turnbuckle to give the fans a photo op before leaping off and waiting for the match to start.

Brian McVay:  Ladies, and gentleman, it’s time for the main event of the evening.  Introducing first, representing the Industry and from Tampa, Florida….She is, The Quuuuuueeeeeeeennnnnn  of the RIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNG!  LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNSDAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYY TROOOOOOOOOOYYYYY!

Just as McVar’s intro is finished the arena lights dim as the music builds. 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, then stops by 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.  MJ Flair stares down her opponent from the top rope as she lowers her arms.  Flair cautiously climbs into the ring and stands in her corner.

Brian McVay: And her opponent, also representing the Industry and from Warwick, New York.  M-J FLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIRRRRRRRR!!!

Brian McVay quickly exits the ring as the two stablemates stand across the ring from one another as referee Matt Boetcher calls for the bell.

Joe Hoffman: And our main event of the evening is underway!

Benny Newell:  She’s still got blood on her fucking shirt, Hoffman.

Joe Hoffman:  That’s the blood from last weeks attack at the hands of the Son.

Benny Newell: Her Mom must need some help with laundry!

Joe Hoffman:  Stop it, Benny.

Benny Newell:  She should have Shout!’d that shit out!

The two lock horns in the center of the ring, but Lindsay Troy almost immediately forces MJ Flair back into the corner.  Troy forces her hands up and pushes up on Flair’s chin, forcing her head backward.  Flair holds her arms up and out as the referee begins a count of five. Troy obliges at the count of three, but is quick to deliver a stiff knee to the guy of her opponent.  Flair doubles over and Troy grabs her in a front face lock and then drops Flair to the mat with a beautifully executed vertical suplex. Troy quickly springs to her feet and drops an elbow right across the chest of Flair.

Joe Hoffman:  A nice sequence for Lindsay Troy to get this one started!

Benny Newell:  Whatever, Hoff!  DRINK!

Troy, back to her feet, pulls Flair up by the hair, and then whips her into the ropes.  Troy leaps into the air, and brings Flair down headfirst with a perfectly timed frankensteiner, Flair kicks out from underneath Troy, who attempted to hold Flair down, before the referee can make any sort of attempt at a count. But Troy is able to keep the offensive momentum by pulling Flair to her feet and locking in a side headlock.  Troy squeezes Flair neck as hard as she can, gritting her teeth and letting out a grunt as she wrenches in just a little tighter.  Flair flails her arms, and lands an open palm onto Troy’s face.  Flair pushes Troy head to the sides, which causes Troy to slightly loosen her hold, to which Flair responds by walking Troy backward and into the ropes.  Using the bounce of the ropes as leverage, Flair pushes Troy off of her and sends her across the ring and into the ropes.  Flair stands tough with a shoulder block but is knocked to the ground by the much large “Queen of the Ring.”  Troy stops for a moment and looks down at Flair, who winces in pain as she grabs the back of her neck.  Troy hits the ropes, and Flair quickly rolls to her stomach allowing Troy to hope of her back and hit the opposite side. Flair hops to her feet, but is again knocked down with a bulldozer of a shoulder block.  Troy quickly makes a cover, as Matt Boetcher slides in for the count.

1!

…

2!

…

Joe Hoffman:  Flair with a shoulder up stops the count at two and a quarter!

Benny Newell: If it wasn’t for this damn sling and give Lindsday Troy two and a quarter claps.

Joe Hoffman:  You shouldn’t mix your pain meds with whiskey Benny.

Benny Newell:  Mix them?  I use the whiskey as a chaser, you dipshit.

Flair lets out a loud grunt as she heaves Troy off of her, and sits up. Troy is all over her though, and is quick to keep the attack on Flair’s neck with a chin lock.  Flair struggles a bit, but with a bit of might is able to slowly climb to her feet.  Troy hangs on, but Flair is able to move to the side and change the hold to a standing headlock.  Again, she backs Troy against the ropes and breaks the hold by sending Troy off the ropes.  This time, however, MJ Flair doesn’t test the physical prowess of Troy, and side steps Troy and brings her down with a well-timed drop toe-hold that smashes Troy’s face into the mat.  Flair is quick to her feet and heads to the ring apron before climbing to the top rope.  Flair remains perched on the top rope as she waits for Troy to get to her feet, and when she does Flair clobbers her with a double axe-handle from the top rope.  Troy doesn’t leave her feet, and stumbles back into the corner.  Flair charges in and crushes Troy into the corner with a running back elbow.  Flair stays on the attack and brings Troy down with a snapmare.  Troy rolls to a seated position, and Flair springs to her feet and lands a nice low drop kick connects with the head and neck area of Troy.  Troy rolls over and under the bottom rope.  Troy walks around the outside of the ring holding the back of her head as the crowd taunts her aggressively.

Joe Hoffman:  The Queen of the Ring trying to get a breather!

Benny Newell:  Yeah, but what fucking grade is MJ Flair in?

Joe Hoffman: OK, Boomer.

Benny Newell: What the fuck did you just say to me?  Just call the damn match, Hoffhole!

Troy paces around, but walks right into a suicide dive from MJ Flair that sends her crashing into the guardrail.  MJ Flair seems a bit surprised that she was able to land on her feet, but suddenly a look of concern comes over her face as she presses her thumb into her temple.

Joe Hoffman: I’ve got to wonder if she’s still feeling the effects of her match against Mike Best!

Benny Newell:  She looks a little bit woozy to me Hoffman. She’s probably drunk!

Joe Hoffman:  The only one drunk out here is you, Benny.

Benny Newell:  Speaking drunk, where’s my fuckin’ Jack!

MJ Flair stays aggressive and rolls Troy into the ring.  Troy gets to her feet, but again she stumbles backward and into a corner.  Flair slides into the ring and darts in at Troy.  But two steps into her run she drops to a knee, and again shoves her thumb into her temple.

Joe Hoffman:  Something is a bit off with MJ Flair!  She’s down on a knee!

Benny Newell:  Drunk.  Underage drinking is unacceptable!

Joe Hoffman:  No, Benny. She’s hurt, something just isn’t right!

Troy notices that Flair has been incapacitated and charges in.  Flair attempts to stay on the offensive, and leaps forward with a clothesline, but Troy is quick to duck under and hook Flair by the waist.  Flair attempts to break the waist-lock, but Troy proves to be too strong and slowly lifts Flair off of her feet and drives her into the mat head and neck first with a German suplex.  Troy hangs onto the waist lock and forces Flair back to her feet and hoists her into the air with another German suplex.

Joe Hoffman:  What a move by Flair!

Benny Newell:  Fuckin’ Germans.

Troy hangs on and again forces Flair to her feet once more.  Again Troy arches back and attempts a German suplex, but this time Flair is able to backflip and land on feet.  Troy looks up at her opponent from her back and looks confused.  Troy regains her composure quickly and gets to her feet, only to be clubbed in the side of the head with a closed fist that draws a warning from Matt Boetcher.  But Flair ignores the half-hearted warning and follows up another stiff right hand, and another and another!

Benny Newell:  Punch, punch, punch!  Those a Soda Popinski style bombs from the little one!

Joe Hoffman:  A Punch Out reference on live TV, Benny?

Benny Newell:  A who reference?

Joe Hoffman:  A Punch Out!

Benny Newell: A what now?

Flair continues her assault by forcing Troy into the corner and landing a few more closed-fist shots to the head of Troy.  Matt Boetcher begins a count of five as Flair continues to throw punches, but Troy has gained a bit of defense as she covers up with her arms and hands.  Flair leans back and goes for a huge haymaker, but Troy is able to duck under.  Flair’s forward momentum sends her into the corner.

Joe Hoffman:  Big miss!

Troy is quick to capitalize on the mistake and throws a barrage of punches and kicks.  Flair doesn’t cover up and takes every strike in the head cleanly.  Troy bounces backward and stays on her toes with her hands up in a fighting position as Flair stumbles out of from corner and straight into a roundhouse kick to the side of the head that lays her out in the center of the ring, flat on her back. Lindsay Troy looks a bit concerned, but only momentarily as she drops down for a cover.  Matt Boetcher slides in for the count.

1!

…

2!

…

Th…

Joe Hoffman: Again, Flair is able to get a shoulder in the air!

Benny Newell:  Yeah!  But what fucking grade, Hoffhole?!

Joe Hoffman:  That fan just took your Jack, Benny!

Benny Newell: (looking around in a panic) Where’d he go!?

Troy argues with the senior official, but only momentarily as she sees Flair stirring around, and attempting to get to her feet.

Joe Hoffman:  Flair will not give in to Troy’s attack!

Benny Newell:  Where’d that fuckin’ fan go with my Jack, Joe!?

Troy appears annoyed as she gives Flair a cross-look, before helping her to her feet. Troy lands a pair of punches to the side of Flair’s head, follows up with a stiff boot into Flairs midsection, and then drives Flair headfirst into the mat with a DDT.  Flairs head bounces off the canvas making a sickening thud that echoes throughout the arena. Troy makes another cover.

1!

…

2!

…

Thr…

Joe Hoffman:  Another kick out by Flair!

Troy can’t believe Flair’s resilience, and again she argues with the referee about the count.  Matt Boetcher responds to the protest by holding two fingers high up in the air. Troy shakes off the show of authority by the referee, and turns her attention back to MJ Flair.

1!

Joe Hoffman:  Rollup by MJ Flair!

2!

…

3!

NO!

Joe Hoffman:  She surprised Lindsay Troy with that one, but Troy barely gets a shoulder up before the count of three!

Troy springs to her feet, but MJ Flair was already there and devastates Troy with an accurately placed flying forearm smash that puts Troy flat on her back.  Troy is quick to shake it off though, and gets to her feet, only to be knocked down again with a follow up flying forearm.  Flair crawls over and hooks the legs of Troy, making the cover.

1!

…

2!

…

Th…

Joe Hoffman:  Kick out by Lindsay Troy.

This time, it’s Flair arguing the count with Boettcher, but she receives the same treatment as Troy; two fingers high in the air.  Flair slams her hands down into the mat as she becomes visibly frustrated with the referee.  She goes to smash the ring with her hands one more time, but is suddenly overcome with dizziness and only uses her hands to prop herself up as she nearly topples over.  Displaying the same reaction as before, she again jams a thumb into her temple.  She blinks rapidly, and clumsily climbs to her feet.

Benny Newell:  She fuckin’ took my Jack, I know it!

Joe Hoffman: Calm down, Benny! She’s been in the ring this entire time.

Flair stumbles over to the ropes and hooks her arm over the top rope; it’s the only thing that keeps her on her feet.  Matt Boettcher, becoming concerned, checks on MJ Flair asking if she can continue.  She shoves Boettcher to the side and is clotheslined over the top rope Lindsay Troy.  Troy lets out a huge war cry before bouncing off the opposite side ropes and baseball sliding to the outside.  MJ Flair made the mistake of getting to close to the ring, and Troy captures her in a head scissors and then brings her down to the outside floor with a head scissors take down.  Only an inch of padding protects Flair’s skull from cracking in half.  Troy stays down and stares at MJ Flair while she places a hand on her lower back.  Matt Boettcher’s count has gotten to three before Troy rolls Flair back into the ring. Troy slides into the ring…

Joe Hoffman: The Morning Star!

Without Warning, Flair got to her feet and dropped Lindsay Troy with a reverse DDT, aka The Morning Star!  Flair again shoves her thumb into her temple as she makes a super-lackadaisical cover.  Matt Boettcher makes the count.

1!

…

2!

…

3!

NO!

Joe Hoffman:  So close, yet again for MJ Flair!

Benny: Jack! Here Jacky, Jack!

Joe Hoffman:  Surely, you don’t believe you can call your whiskey.

Benny Newell:  That’s between me and my Jack, Hoffhole!

Lindsay Troy forces flair off of her as Flair still seems to be a bit dizzy.  So dizzy, in fact…that Lindsay Troy is first to her feet.  Troy, in not so good of shape herself at this point in the match, attempts to stay upright by standing wide to keep her balance.  Flair is able to get to her feet, and sees that Troy is still a bit worse for wear in the center of the ring.  Flair charges in, but again she drops to a knee and tries to shake the dizziness out of her head.  Troy, ever the opportunist, seizes the moment and…

Joe Hoffman: Raynes of Castamere!

Benny Newell:  It’s not raining, you dipshit.  We’re inside!

Troy charged in and blasted both of her knees into the forehead of the half-standing MJ Flair.  Flair falls flat on her back, but quickly turtles up on her hands and knees, refusing to be covered by Troy.  Troy marches over, and yanks Flair’s legs out from underneath her.  Troy crosses up the legs of Flair, turns backward, bridges over Flair’s back and locks in Key to the Kingdom!

Joe Hoffman:  Troy’s locked in the Key to the Kingdom, in the center of the ring!

Flair screams in agony as she reaches toward the bottom rope, but she’s nowhere near close enough to force a break. Flair must’ve been busted open from the previous exchange as blood trickles down her forehead and into her teeth as she agonizes in pain.  Matt Boetcher pays close attention to Flair as he drops down to the mat and gets eye to eye with the resilient athlete.

Joe Hoffman:  She’s got nowhere to go!

Flair attempts to rock herself out of the hold, but Troy is just too strong and doesn’t release the hold.  Flair has no option and is forced to tap out!  Matt Boettcher confirms the submission and calls for the bell!

DING! DING! DING!!!!!

Joe Hoffman: The Queen of the Ring has done it again….MJ Flair had no choice and after last weeks assault and then tonight….who can blame her.

Troy shockingly holds on to the hold for a few more precious moments as the blood from Flair’s open wound is smeared across her face.  Troy finally releases the hold and remains seated in the ring as she shakes her head, admiring the toughness of MJ Flair as the HOTv logo comes up on the screen and we fade to black as the show comes to a conclusion.