Refueled II, two and a half days later, finally kicks off live on HOTv with Lee Best standing in the middle of the ring with a mic in his hand a glare on his face.
Without any long drawn out intro from the Hall of Fame announce team and without a drawn out video package we start the show with the words of GOD.
Lee Best: …………
Lee lowers the mic from his mouth and looks into the crowd who are standing as one waiting with baited breath for him to begin the show.
Lee raises the microphone back to his mouth and opens his mouth to begin to speak but instead once again slowly begins to lower the mic but instead just drops it into the middle of the ring and walks towards the back as the feed cut abruptly to the Hall of Fame announce team of Joe Hoffman and Big Buff Benny Newell.
Joe Hoffman: A silent Lee Best? Why did he even come out here?
Benny Newell: Its obvious Joe…..he PLANNED on saying something but apparently something went down between late last week and tonight that caused GOD to change his mind…and when GOD changes his mind…..well thats not a good thing.
Joe Hoffman: Something is going on and I cannot put my finger on it. But I have a very bad feeling about this.
Benny Newell: GOD has mentioned time and time again that he was cautiously optimistic about this relaunch but even I have a feeling that….well maybe something is up….and you know me I am always the optimistic asshole.
Joe Hoffman: Well I cannot argue that last word….
Benny Newell: Fuck off Joe…not tonight…..not fucking tonight.
Joe Hoffman: Folks I am being told a segment that we had planned with John Sektor has been canceled……so with that said let us get a quick commercial break in before we see Michael Lee Best taking on that very man for the right to go to the Final Four of the World Championship tournament.
Benny Newell: Greeeaat. Another HOW Hall of Famer giving up on the company…imagine fucking that. I think I might need to head to the back with Lee and drink this bad memory away.
High Octane Wrestling is proud to announce a $300 donation to Autism Speaks. Thank you to everyone
With John Sektor already in the ring, it’s time for the first match of the evening– Benny and Joe discuss that this is not only a third round match in HOW World Title Tournament, but a Career vs. Career match.
The crowd is clearly favoring Sektor in this one, chanting “YOU SOLD OUT” at Mike Best as he makes his way to the ring with his newly won OCW Championship. The announcers remind the fans at home that OCW is a HOTv company, but the rabid HOW fans in the arena can’t hear that and wouldn’t give a fuck anyway.
Matt Boettcher checks over both competitors and rings the bell, this one is on.
John Sektor steps forward and offers Mike Best a handshake, to the approval of the crowd. With so much history between the men, Mike is happy to shake his hand, but then immediately pulls Sektor in close and kicks him directly in the balls, flooring the Hall of Famer.
Matt Boettcher gets in between them, yelling at Mike Best and warning him of a disqualification. Mike shoves Boettcher aside, yelling “I fucking own you!” as he rears back a second time, kicking the fallen John Sektor in the balls again, flagrantly. Boettcher has no choice but to immediately call for the bell.
The crowd is in fucking shock at what they’ve just seen, but the silence turns to obnoxious boos as they realize what has just happened. Sektor looks hurt and betrayed, realizing that Mike Best has just retired himself and stolen away the last great achievement of Sektor’s career.
Mike Best hoists the OCW Championship into the air, celebrating his loss in the ring, but Lee Best must be livid in the back because he cuts away from ringside almost immediately as we get right into the next segment of the show.
The camera follows backstage interviewer Blair Moise walking down the hall.
Suddenly, two HOW workers shoot out from a dressing room at full speed and run towards her. Blair alertly moves to the side, back to the wall, and lets the onrushing pair pass.
Blair Moise: Hmmmm.
Wondering to herself what the hell is going on, Blair goes over to the open door. Standing by the door are Halitosis’s manager Matt, Cue-Card Guy, and the two scriptwriters waiting for their wrestler to come out.
Blair Moise: What’s going on?
Matt points inside the dressing room.
Cue Card Guy: Well, Halitosis wanted a little extra stench tonight so he had a couple backstage guys go out to Rhys Townsend’s taco stand and bring back some extra, extra spicy stuff for him to add to his pre-match drink.
Intrigued, Blair peeks around the corner. What does she see? Halitosis finishing up the process of mixing up God-knows-what inside an industrial strength blender.
Blair Moise: Thought so.
Halitosis turns the blender off.
Blair Moise (calling out): Halitosis. Blair Moise here. What are you doing?
Spinning around to face her, Halitosis holds up the metal container.
Halitosis: Blair, tonight’s going to be a tough one. Scottywood is a legend…a High Octane Wrestling Hall of Famer. I’m going to need everything to fall in my favor if I’m going to stay in there with him and give myself any chance of winning tonight.
He opens the container and even outside the dressing room, Blair gets a small whiff of the noxious stuff that he’s mixed together.
Blair Moise: WHOA!
Recoiling from the awful smell, she takes a step back. Halitosis tips his head back and guzzles down the contents.
Matt the Manager and the others visibly grimace at the sight.
Blair decides this is a perfect time to move along and backs even farther from the door.
Blair Moise: Okay. Good luck tonight.
She takes off to the next interview. Cue-Card Guy jumps in the way of her camera man though. He points to the sign he holds up.
“Victory is just a breath away.”
As we come back live from commercial break we hear the Hall of Fame team Joe Hoffman and Benny Newell hyping up the upcoming match between Halitosis and Scottywood or at least Hoffman is while Benny goes on about a hooker he smashed whose cooch smelt worse than Halitosis breath. The tune of “Mas Tequila” by Sammy Hagar brings out Halitosis and his menagerie and the HOW audience gives the newcomer a good reception.
“Drink, Drank, Drunk” by Hellyeah brings out the former world champion, Scottywood, who receives a rowdy ovation that takes The Hardcore Artist a back a bit as he heads to the ring. Scotty poses for a moment before he gets into the ring as he has a pre-match drink….or two courtesy of a fan at ringside. Once inside, the man in charge, Joel Hortega checks both men before calling for the bell. As the bell sounds you think you would expect a fast start by Halitosis or Scottywood using his size and power to take down the newcomer and take away his speed but we get none of that. Instead we get a testing our period as both Halitosis and Scottywood jock for position in the center of the ring while Hoffman reminds everyone that this is the Elite Eight and every move, every decision could be costly.
Scotty is the first to attack, but the Luchador with Insanely Poor Oral Hygiene is ready as Halitosis ducks under the lockup and drills Scotty back into the corner with a headbutt and the luchador continues the onslaught with lefts, rights, and a roundhouse kick to the face as an exclamation point that crumples up the former world champion, but it only gets a dos count from Hortega as Scotty powers out showing he still has life. Halitosis tries to press the attack and stay on Scotty, but the Hardcore Artist quickly rakes the eyes of the masked man and looks to end it with a Scottybomb, but Halitosis has other plans as he counters with a hurricanrana and sends the action spilling to the outside. Halitosis channels the spirits of being homicidal, suicidal, and genocidal as he runs to the nearest corner and sprints to the top to deliver a senton dive.
The tide of the match turns as Scottywood rolls out of the way and a loud smack is heard throughout the arena as Halitosis’ back collides with the concrete floor below. Scotty is able to regain his composure quicker than Halitosis as the Hardcore Artist delivers a stiff Ice Kick to the side of the head of the luchador. Scottywood steals a fans beer from ringside and chugs it before rolling back into the ring as Hortega begins his count to diez. Hoffman and Newell add suspense as the crowd counts in Spanish while Scotty yells at Hortega to count faster by asking can Halitosis making it back inside the ring and continue his Cinderella run through the tournament or will Scotty move onto the Final Four and become one step closer to holding the title once again he briefly held for twenty-eight days.
As Hortega reaches the halfway point Halitosis begins to stir and the HOW crowd is cheering him on as they love the fight being shown from the newcomer. At the count of siete, Halitosis is on all fours crawling towards the edge of the ring while Joe and Benny argue over if he’s going to make it or not. At the count of nueve, the luchador reaches the apron and hops onto it just as Hortega’s hands were going up for the count of diez and Scotty can’t believe it as the fans go wild. Scotty makes his way over to Halitosis who is standing on the apron leaning against the ropes trying to catch his breath.
Scotty tries to grab Halitosis, but the luchador sends his opponent staggering backwards with a leaping kick, but this only a minor inconvenience for the Hardcore Artist as he regains his wits rather quickly and grabs a hold of his masked rival giving Halitosis no choice but to unleash the vicious……LETHAL BREATH OF DEATH!!!!!!!!!!
The smell is so retched, so foul, so rotten; everyone in attendance is trying hard not to lose their lunch. Scottywood is rolling around on the canvas gasping for air as if he got the wind knocked out of him and he will when Halitosis hits a springboard 450 splash. Halitosis hooks the leg as Hortega holding his nose slides into position to begin his count but Scottywood kicks out in the nick of time. The Hardcore Artist tries to get to his feet, but when your eyes are swelled up, and you can barely breathe from breath so bad that it’s like having your head to shoved up an Orangutan’s ass you’ll stumble and fall across the ropes to…..and throw up as well.
As Scotty is puking his guts up onto the floor, Halitosis is hitting the ropes to build up steam to deliver a tiger feint kick. The impact knocks Scotty back to the center of the ring and Halitosis like a shark that smells blood or is it Templeton the Rat to a rotten egg? Regardless, Halitosis ascends to the top rope and stands high above the turnbuckle like he’s the King of Mountain and delivers a beautiful high angle senton bomb. The luchador quickly makes a cover and Hortega counts to tres. The crowd explodes into cheers as Halitosis has his hand raised and is announced the victory while Joe hypes up his Cinderella run into the Final Four as he awaits the victor of Max Kael or Darin Zion as we slowly fade to the backstage area.
Bold white lettering materializes on the screen:
EARLIER THIS AFTERNOON
The black fades away into the parking garage of the Yuengling Center. A moment passes before a glimmering royal blue and silver Rolls Royce Phantom EWB comes rolling into the lot. The three-hundred-thousand dollar limousine comes to a rest at the curb nearest to the entrance door and idles for a moment before the engine cuts off.
Another moment passes before one of the back doors opens outwardly. A dragon-skin boot juts out, followed by another and then The Only Star stands up to his full height. He’s dressed like a goddamned champion, suited up in only the finest of Italian silk.
Eric Dane: Well, here we are Big Shooter, time to go to work.
A titan of a man steps out after The Only Star. He is suited and booted, stacked like a brick shithouse, and dressed similar enough to Dane that you just know they both use the same tailor. Blond hair is cropped short and black shades cover his eyes. The behemoth of a man takes a quick look around.
His name, by the by, is Dan Ryan.
The Ego Buster.
Dan Ryan: I thought this was hostile territory for us?
Eric Dane: Hostile? Nah. I mean don’t get me wrong, there’s a couple of bottom-feeders running around screaming Fuck DEFIANCE every chance they get, but the people who matter know what’s good for business, just like everywhere else.
Ryan shrugs and the two of them circle around the car to the trunk which pops automatically. Each former bazillion time Champion reaches in and grabs a luggage bag as the conversation continues.
Dan Ryan: They know I’m not here to bother with that Battle Royal, right?
Eric Dane: What I’ve been told is that the invitation is open, should you change your mind, but you are by no means scheduled to compete.
Dan Ryan: I’ll be sure to take that under consideration.
As the banter continues neither man looks up at the sporty BMW X3 that rolls into the lot and pulls to a stop in a much less presumptuous parking spot. As the door opens and Lindsay Troy steps out, Dane nudges Ryan and nods in the direction of the Queen of the Ring.
Eric Dane: Sissie-in-Law’s here.
Dan Ryan: I wouldn’t call her that within ear-shot.
The Antagonist shrugs.
Eric Dane: Is everything on the up and up here? I’m not dressed to fight just yet and she looks ready to embarrass another jackass. And, well, I may be a jackass, but I’m not tryna be embarrassed again. Last week was bad enough.
Dan Ryan: Speaking of, what exactly is a Darin Zion, anyway?
Dane’s skin visibly crawls and his easy smile curls into a sneer.
Eric Dane: He’s a guy with a serious concussion, that’s what-
The Only Star is interrupted by a snarky, feminine voice.
“Isn’t he the guy that rolled you up last week because you were too busy jacking with the crowd to focus on the match?”
Of course, that voice belongs to Lindsay BAH-GAWD Troy.
Eric Dane: Well, I wasn’t going to go into that much detail…
He trails off.
Lindsay Troy: No, of course not. Wouldn’t benefit you if you did. But while we’re on the subject, Dan, what exactly is a Duchess?
Dan Ryan makes a face like someone just farted, and stiffens up, disgusted.
Dan Ryan: I told you never to say that name in my presence, and I swear to God, I still have Joey on speed dial. ONE. MORE. WORD.
Eric Dane smiles a little.
Eric Dane: Oh, things are gonna get really fun around here.
Lindsay Troy: Damn, Daniel, settle down. It’s not like I insulted Texas or somethin’.
Ryan snarls and starts for the door to the arena.
Dan Ryan: Why did you invite her?
Eric Dane: Why did *I* invite her? You invited her. I’m not even convinced yet that she’s not gonna jump me from behind.
Dane throws the Queen of the Ring a nervous glance. She gives him a thin-lipped smile.
Lindsay Troy: And I’m not convinced that you’re still not gonna knee me in the head, BAWS, so seems to me like we’re about all on the same page.
She adjusts her duffel bag on her shoulder and nods at Ryan.
Lindsay Troy: Now, we got a plan tonight or what? And if there is a plan, does it include beating someone up or is this just a general merriment sort of thing?
Eric Dane: Oh, I just thought we’d walk around and say hello.
Dan Ryan opens the door and walks through, muttering to himself as he goes.
Dan Ryan: That’s disappointing.
Lindsay Troy: We could just go ahead and jump the *BOSS* since he’s expecting it anyway.
Dane stops and looks back, unamused.
Lindsay Troy: I’m KIDDING.
Dane accepts this explanation after a few moments, then follows Troy through the door. Troy pauses for a moment, then a few moments later, follows.
Lindsay Troy: Probably.
The action cuts away as there is an audible buzz in the arena after that segment
Is the Best Family on the same page or has their priorities shifted farther apart now that Michael has become the top dog of OCW and has retired from ring action in HOW??
Back live and Florence Kearsey stands backstage in a reserved private locker room in her ring gear loosening up her stressed shoulders, looking determined and otherwise mentally preparing herself for her match. Leaning with one foot on a chair, resting an arm on his knee, Dante Morrell watches her with concern mixed with interest.
Previously, on Refueled One we saw Flo partake in an encounter with one of her “clients”, we’ll say, before her match with Hallitosis. Now, interestingly, she seems more focused on her other other career.
On the nearby bench her cell phone buzzes. It’s like an on-call cell phone, but for call girls like Flo. She dismisses it with barely a glance and keeps a steady focus on a point on the wall… her opponent, her match, etcetera. Dante watches more curiously.
“Aren’t you going to answer that?” He asks. Flo shakes her head with a determined frown. “But it’s a client,” he clarifies, expecting Flo to jump for it. It’s money, after all. One call is worth two or three appearances on HOTv. Flo is disinterested.
Curiouser, and curiouser, thinks Dante with a quirk to his eyebrow, watching his client warm up, preparing for her match.
Brian Hollywood makes his way out to the ring to complete silence, since he never provided the backstage crew with whatever musical selection he’d like to come to the ring to. The fans are kind of confused, but they’re ready to see the number two seed in the tournament face off against independent legend Lindsay Troy, so they’re into it.
“Watch Me” by The Phantoms brings the woman herself down the ramp, sending the crowd into a frenzy as Benny and Joe put over her big win over Scott Stevens last month at Refueled One. She jumps onto the turnbuckle, appealing to the crowd as the referee checks that both competitors are ready and rings the bell to start the match.
Lindsay Troy is on fire out of the gate, lighting Hollywood up like the sign in the hills he’s named after with a series of elbows, followed by a big kick that puts Hollywood down. The former World Champion battles back, using some of the offense that would assuredly be called by the announce team if it were in his biography. It’s probably in the mail with his music.
Running off the ropes, Hollywood hits a nondescript clothesline that takes Linz off her feet, but she quickly rolls to her feet and locks up with Brian. He sweeps around behind Linz, but she counters his counter and locks in a cobra clutch, quickly sweeping Hollywood’s legs and dropping him to the mat! Lindsay Troy makes a cover.
Hollywood kicks out, just barely, after having his brain rattled with a high impact move out of nowhere. He rolls toward the ropes, using them to pull himself up, and now both competitors meet in the center again.
Troy throws a wild kick, but Hollywood is clever enough to catch it. That’s the plan, though, as Linz follows up with an Enziguri that doesn’t take Brian off his feet, but sends him stumbling back into the turnbuckle. She follows up on the attack, rallying the number two seed with a bunch of rapid-fire knife edge chops. That’s not enough though, as she continues with a series of punches and elbows and knees OH MY!
Hollywood stumbles forward in a haze, swinging with a wild clothesline, but Linz ducks and bounces off the ropes, flying forward with a flying double knee strike! The Raynes of Castamere!!!
BUT HOLLYWOOD MOVES OUT OF THE WAY!
Lindsay Troy collides with the ropes, falling backward and rolling back up to her feet, but she spins around just in time to get a boot in the stomach, followed by what is probably the Executive Promise!!! Neither Benny or Joe is sure, but while Benny is looking it up on Stevenspedia, Hollywood covers for the pin.
DING DING DING
This one is over, and while Lindsay Troy is quickly able to get back to her feet, she looks visibly pissed at the flash finish to this match. Hollywood celebrates in the ring, holding the back of his head in pain as he raises his other arm in the air. Hollywood moves on to the next round to face HOW Hall of Famer John Sektor, while Lindsay Troy stands with her hands on her hips, shaking her head in disbelief as we head to commercial.
Refueled: Two returns from commercial and heads straight backstage where Joey Conrad and his manager, Silent Witness, are heading towards their locker room. Both men look focused, determined and ready for a fight.
Silent Witness: This is it, Joe. Tonight is your night!
The LSD Legend slaps his protégé’s back as they approach.
Joey Conrad: Mate, I’ve got this. This bloke doesn’t stand a chance!
Conrad looks ready to burst – he can’t keep still. He is pumped up for his match tonight and his manager is happy to let him raise that adrenaline level – he, too, has a lot at stake tonight and is almost as hyped as Conrad. It is in complete contrast to what is waiting for them outside the locker room door.
Eric Dane, the much-maligned former DEFIANCE boss, casually leans against the door frame. He isn’t even looking at the duo, although he no doubt heard them approaching. Instead, he scrolls through his phone, idly letting time pass by. Silent Witness sees him and the anger within him immediately begins to boil over. His pace quickens, with the aid of his walking stick, until he is just a few feet from the Only Star.
Silent Witness: What the hell are you doing here?!
Dane barely acknowledges him, other than to casually lock his phone and put it away. Silent Witness steps closer still, getting right in Dane’s face.
Silent Witness: GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE, DANE!
The Only Star smirks. Finally, he pulls away from the door frame and comes face-to-face with the Hall of Famer.
Eric Dane: You know… I wondered if you had the balls to say that to my face. You sure as hell didn’t down in Utah and you’ve been hiding behind the kid ever since I signed here. Good to know you’ve still got some fight in you…
Dane looks down at Witness’ cane and smirks again.
Eric Dane: It’s just a shame you can’t back it up, old man.
Dane laughs as the man seven years his junior almost explodes in rage. Silent Witness’ face is beetroot red as he does everything he can to keep himself from lashing out at Dane. Before either man can say any more Joey Conrad pushes his way in between them and glares at Dane.
Joey Conrad: Mate, you’re so old the world was still in black and white when you grew up! Shut your fucking mouth, you old cunt!
Dane’s smile widens, amused by the youngster’s angry retort. He raises his hands and steps away in a false expression of fear; his smile ever-present.
Eric Dane: Whoa, whoa, easy now, sport!
Dane lowers his hands, and his smile dissipates. The easy-going nature he had previously displayed has been replaced be a meaner, angrier disposition.
Eric Dane: Big Bad Joe Conrad… “The future of wrestling”, right?
Eric Dane: Well I’m the big bad wolf and you ain’t the future of shit. I’m going to huff and puff and blow your little fucking world down!
Dane shoulders past Conrad and takes a step forward. He locks eyes with Silent Witness for a moment and the pair stare each other down; the distaste percolating. Finally, Dane continues walking away, leaving Silent Witness and Joey Conrad looking on in anger.
That is until they are distracted by an almighty clang coming from up above and behind them. Both men snap their heads in the direction of the sound, just in time to see Jonny O’Dell fall through the ceiling. As the troubled HOW star groans in pain, Silent Witness turns to Conrad.
Silent Witness: Come on, let’s get ready…
Silent Witness opens the locker room door and both men take one final, confused look at O’Dell, before stepping inside and closing the door…
The camera stays inside of the locker room where Jonny O’Dell has caused absolute destruction with his helpless body. Debris; including ceiling panels and fibre glass keep O’Dell floundering underneath it.
O’Dell: Witness…… is that you?
O’Dell must of caught sight of HOW Hall Of Famer, Silent Witness – before he openly shunned him by shutting the door. Presumably O’Dell must think because he was on HOW’s roster back in 2002 that him and Silent Witness are perhaps buddies. Probably best friends. Or, simply in O’Dell’s defencelessness – that he hopes Silent Witness can assist him in his current plight.
O’Dell’s prayers are soon answered, though. After his cries, in steps – not the LSD legend himself – but rather in the aid of senior HOW referee Matt Boettcher.
O’Dell: Matt..! I’m down for the count my brother!
Boettcher: Nope, nothing to see here..
The veteran referee then promptly shuts the door with O’Dell still fighting the rubble.
O’Dell: Clarity… ‘The Fabulous One’ needs his clarity.
O’Dell makes a more bigger and committed effort in freeing himself this time round. Meanwhile, the HOW broadcast team in the trucks are seemingly at a loss as it counts down earlier than planned for a commercial break.
On closing, we are left pondering what’s more strange; Jonny O’Dell referring to himself in the third person or that he was sleeping in the roof here at the Yuengling Center. Fuck sake, he’s meant to be missing not pretending to be one of the fucking Borrowers!
High Octane Radio returns this Saturday night as there is PLENTY to talk about with Lee and Michael Best
Joe welcomes back the Refueled viewers as Joe mentions Conrad’s promo right before the break as Benny takes a few drinks before almost dropping a hashtag that is cut off by Joe promoting how each wrestler had solid showing at the last Refueled and barely missed out on getting to the third round of the tournament. Conrad by running into a wall of momentum brought in by the debut Lindsey Troy and Eric Dane in a hard fought match against HOW vet Darin Zion after he took out Madman earlier in the same show.
We hear Eric Dane’s music of “Binge and Purge” by Clutch play as the 6’4” and 240 pounds Dane makes his way to the ring in his green, black and white tights barely acknowledging the HOW crowd
Then “Party Til We Die” by MAKJ & Timmy Trumpet hits and the energetic Joey Conrad, standing at 6’ and weighing 190 pound runs out to a chorus of boos. He is soon followed by the much slower, cane wielding Silent Witness who flips the crowd’s reaction to a loud roar.
The match starts off with Dane overpowering Conrad from a tie up and nailing the rookie with a quick couple clotheslines before Conrad rolls out of the ring to regroup with Witness. Dane though will have none of it as he chases Conrad to the outside. He uses Witness as a shield for a second before quickly sliding back into the ring. Dane jumps on the apron but gets knocked off with a drop kick. Conrad goes for a swanton to the outside but Dane dodges it and Conrad crashes to the floor. Dane throws Conrad around ringside, using the full 10 count before rolling him back into the ring.
Dane starts laying into Conrad with a series of strikes and kicks, keeping the agile rookie in the mat and connects with a knee to the skull as he goes for a cover.
Conrad kicks out as Dane pulls up Conrad and throw him into the ropes and goes for a clothesline but as the ref turns his back Witness catches Dane’s boot with his cane and trips him up which allows Conrad to counter with a flying lariat that that he follows up with a rolling thunder and connects with the Ultimate Teabagging as the crowd boos and Benny laughs and says this kid may not that bad.
With Dane down, Conrad climbs the top rope and goes for the a flying dropkick as Dane pulls himself back up to his feet but Dane sidesteps this move too and goes for his Starbreaker knee.
Dane misses with the knee!
Conrad manages to roll through and hops up onto the opposite turnbuckles and goes for The Flying Wallop again.
Conrad misses again!
Dane though doesn’t miss as he sidesteps the second flying drop kick and connects with the flying knees, compete with knee brace to the skull of Conrad who is laid out in the middle of the ring.
The bells rings as Dane is declared the winner and we see Conrad starting to bleed from the cut on his skull as we see a medic slide in to attend to Conrad as Witness watches on from ringside, unable to even climb in the ring to protect Conrad from a celebrating Dane who just dares Witness to come in the ring until he has enough of the Hall of Famer and exits the ring, throwing his arms up in victory as he heads to the back as we cut backstage after seeing the Defiant One victorious over the HOW Hall of Famers protege.
As we cut to the backstage area we see the beautiful Blair Moise with her guest, the former World Champion, Scott Stevens, and the crowd immediately starts a Lonesome Loser chant upon seeing the Texan.
Blair Moise: Welcome back to High Octane Wrestling Scott.
Scott Stevens: Good to be back Blaire.
Stevens says as the crowd continues to chant Lonesome Loser.
Blair Moise: At Refueled One, it was your first match back in a HOW ring in nearly three years and unfortunately it didn’t go your way as your lost to Lindsay Troy in the opening round of the tournament to crown a new world champion.
The crowd cheers at the mention of Stevens losing.
Blair Moise: With that said, how are you feeling tonight?
Blair asks and Stevens just smiles.
Scott Stevens: I feel fine.
Stevens replies and Blair doesn’t believe him.
Blair Moise: I find that hard to believe Scott when you’re posting cryptic messages all over social media about your loss and whether you have what it takes anymore. So are you truly fine?
Stevens lets out a sigh.
Scott Stevens: Yes. I’m fine. Everyone knows I take losing very badly. That hasn’t changed one bit since I first walked into this company and I was defeated by Kirsta Lewis for the Television championship or when Tara was added into a match she had no business being in when Scotty and I were trying to end our rivalry once and for all. I took my loss to Lindsay the wrong way and lashed out because I thought I was the better wrestler but as you saw that wasn’t the case. After my loss I had time to go back home and unplug a bit so I could digest with what happened because it took me five years to win the world title the first time and I didn’t want to take another five years to win my third.
Stevens explains and Blair nods.
Blair Moise: Understandable, but tonight you have your eyes on another prize, the ICON Championship.
Scott Stevens: That’s right Blair. The championship that propelled my HOW career is going back around my waist tonight.
Blair Moise: That confident are me?
Scott Stevens: Yes. I am rejuvenated and refocused because I just don’t want to be the first ICON Champion of the Refueled Era of HOW, but I want to set the standard of what an ICON Champion is supposed to be. The ICON Champion is the standard of what HOW represents. The ICON Champion is the workhorse of the company. The ICON Champion can even be greater than the World Champion if said champion busts his ass hard enough. All of these competitors involved in this battle royal have the talent to win it, and I will have to have eyes in the back of my head and keep my head on a swivel to avoid from being eliminated. As talented as my opponents are some don’t have the mind set of wanting the responsibility that comes with being ICON Champion. Some can’t make up their mind if they want to compete in the damn match. Some want to host viewing parties. Some want to smoke peyote and imagine Shane Reynolds naked.
Stevens shutters at the thought before continuing.
Scott Stevens: Regardless of who is in the match the result will be the same as the other three times my name was announced as the NEW ICON CHAMPION!
Stevens says as he exits the frame and we cut to commercial.
It has been decided…….the first PPV of the Refueled Era will be revealed this weekend on the HOR
The show cuts from a giddy and erect Max Kael, throat fucking Darin Zion with his rusted hook, to the moon.
Astronot O’Dell: One small step for homelessness…
Or maybe not.
The show still cuts though.
More importantly, cuts to the locker room.
EVEN more importantly, cuts to Teh Bandeets locker room. It’s not your ordinary setup either. No, for a momentous occasion, such as the ICON Battle Royal, comes a litter of lavishness. Royal trumpets are battling over an AM/FM, digital, that’s right, digital radio. A portion of catering has been confiscated and reallocated for private use. Doozer’s accessible ramp has a red carpet befitting of Brain Hollywood covering it.
There’s a robot.
Oh wait, that’s just Scott “Data” Stevens.
Data: You guys have been in my locker room for twelve minutes and twenty-eight seconds. You’ve taken thirteen hits from that pen, Jiles. And you Doozer, you have rolled back and forth a total of seventy-eight feet. The time is now 10:13.
Kidding, Steven’s isn’t really there He’s got a match to win.
Kidding about what you say.
There are dozens, and dozens of eggs.
A floral arrangement.
Nice champagne is on ice.
A giant, 14 inch TV, is just waiting to be turned on.
A text arrives on a face-up iPhone XR, from The Dude, asking about horse dwarves… ya know, the neat little snacks you oft find at fancy parties.
Another text, from the same man, asking how they ever came up with such a weird name for tasty treats.
A third message, same sender, theorizing that they must be miniature horse meat based and no one should eat them.
Then yet another, simply reading, “after tonight…”
You know, lavishishness.
Also in the locker room and looking lavish, is the tuxedo wearing, COOLYMPIAN Castaway, Cool Jiles. And the not so much lavish, but more so Murderballing, Hell on Wheels, Doozer.
Oh, and a lifesize cardboard cutout of Dan Ryan’s roster image is hanging out in the corner.
Just no food or water after midnight.
Tuxedo Jiles: Well, here we are big men. The rumble of battles is next. Soon, we will find out who among this roster of nail-eaters, glass-walkers and ass-spelunkers is brave enough to be High Octane’s next ICON.
Doozer: I’m on the edge of my seat.
Tuxedo Jiles: I still don’t know HOW all those people are going to fit in the ring? It’s a good thing we are sitting this one out. Right, Doozy?
Doozer: Wicked funny, Jiles.
Tuxedo Jiles: What’s that, Dan? Who do I think is going to win? Not one of us, that’s for sure.
The group shares in a hearty laugh.
The group being Jiles.
During said hearty laughter, another laugh. A recognizably WORTHY laugh can be heard cackling from outside the locker room.
Farthington: I heard this was the room for cool kids who don’t Battle Royal!
Tuxedo Jiles: Cecil! Welcome! Thanks for coming. I’m glad you could make it.
Farthington: What else was I going to do? COMPETE?!? You’re silly-
Just then, the COOLympian’s phone starts lighting up. He looks down and smiles.
Tuxedo Jiles: Hold on a sec, it’s Dude.
Jiles spins around and points his cell toward a 65” screen on the back wall of the room. The 14” is reserved for the rumble. Jiles taps on his cell a couple times and up on the big screen appears The Dude, Doozer’s life-long friend and manager. With a shit-taking grin on his face, he turns so all in the locker room can clearly see he’s in a bathroom.
The Dude: I did it, Mr. Cool!
Jiles clears his throat.
Tuxedo Jiles: Dude, we have company.
The Dude: I mean, Mr. Greek GOD of COOL and all things COOL-related, Inc.
Dude tends to overcompensate. Eric Dane knows about that.
Jiles nods his head in approval, signaling to continue.
The Dude: Don’t be mad about the corn, though. I know you said I shouldn’t have eaten any last night… and it could distract from the bigger picture, but I couldn’t help myself. Plus, to be perfectly honest, I think the specs of extra color really add to the beauty of it all.
Doozer looks equally as confused as outright scared. Cecil has that I-want-to-look-away-but-can’t thing going on. Jiles is overflowing with anticipation.
The Dude: I tried to get the right level of smear, too, but it was pretty hard. I could go mix up some chocolate mil-
Tuxedo Jiles: It’s… it’s…
The Cool starts to choke up as Dude finishes focusing his FaceTime on what looks like a poster advertisement for the Battle Royal… it’s just a little difficult to make out, beneath the massive, corn-speckled, turd on top of it.
Tuxedo Jiles: Beautiful. Dude, top marks. Skid you later.
More like, Dane you later.
Dude: Duder, out.
Doozer shakes his head like a wet dog, probably trying to get what he just saw out of his visual memory.
Doozer: So, what exactly was the point of that? Other than making him roll around in pig shit?
Tuxedo Jiles: Who said anything about pig shit?
The Dooze shakes his head again. This time more in a flabbergasted way.
Doozer: Jiles, if he did that… if he just shit inside my house, I’m gonna roll over your dick in this wheelchair. I promise.
Fathington: I was told about a gift…
Jiles springs to, looking around the spacious, handicapped locker room like a poor chasing a hundred dollar bill on a windy day.
At long last…
Tuxedo Jiles: Eureka! I found it! Here you are, rich friend of mine. Before you open it though, I want you to know it wasn’t easy getting this through customs. Not. At. All. That said, it’s fucking precious.
The Megastar reaches into a fancy gift bag and pulls out a scarf that rivals Cher on a aircraft carrier. His eyes widen, turning back to a time he might have gotten his oil checked. His grip is firm, like he’s squeezing the life out of a Darin Zion fan (if they really exist).
Farthington: This scarf… this scarf… it is beautiful. A beautiful gift for a beautiful boy! You have done well dying tuxedo man.
Tuxedo Jiles: What I tell you, Dan? I knew he was going to like it.
Gigantic, orgy like GASP~!
Tuxedo Jiles: Easy there big fella. I know this High Octane and all, but…
Doozer: WOW. That was aggressive, Dan. Even for me and Jiles… I don’t want to speak for our rich friend here. I did that once and got sued. Wasn’t fun.
Farthington: HA! The old Tipper Gore. After I would win, I’d tell them to keep their money and just cut out their tongue, just like the Great Lord Farthington taught me. But yes, that was uncalled for Dan. You are a very rude boy.
Tuxedo Jiles: I get it, Dan. You didn’t get a scarf. I’m sorry. Take as many eggs as you’d like. All of them if you wish.
Tuxedo Jiles: I’m glad we could reach and agreement. Now, down to business. Cecil, tell me more about this thoroughbred you’ve enlisted? This… Great Scott!
Farthington: Well, I’ve done a lot of research on this young prospect. I can tell you two things: he’s Scott and he’s great! This makes him Great Scott.
Tuxedo Jiles: I like his chances already.
Farthington leans in and whispers.
Farthington: He has a Great Scott Bomb.
Petrified, Jiles falls out of his chair.
Doozer… does not.
Tuxedo Jiles: I can’t… what’s a guy like that doing in our division then? He sounds like World Championship material to me. Like Zion… and Scottywood. The legends of this game.
Farthington: He didn’t do enough heroin.
Tuxedo Jiles: Typical. Chasing the dragon… wait, is he related to Scottywood? I know Scoots The Hardcore Artisan likes dragons, and his name is Scott.
Farthington: No white guy dreadlocks for Great Scott! That’s what makes him so great!
Tuxedo Jiles: Belly button tattoo? Well, did he have a belly button tattoo, and then get it removed?
Farthington takes out a small picture of Great Scott he has had in his pocket the whole time. He strokes it longingly.
Farthington: He’s too great to make mistakes!
Jiles pulls himself together, shaking off the sheer fear and magnificence of Great Scott. He walks over to a bottle of bubbly, pops the top, pours four glasses and offers a toast.
Tuxedo Jiles: Gentlemen, before they get underway, if I may… a toast. Here’s to Stevens, O’dell……………………
Doozer: Flo. Don’t forget Flo.
Tuxedo Jiles: FLO! Can’t forget little miss FLO! And………………………
Tuxedo Jiles: That’s right! Bouncing Bobby Carey! You salt and pepper shaker you.
Farthington: I believe the murderer Chris Kostoff is also throwing his… bandana into the ring.
Tuxedo Jiles: Yes! How could I forget! Kostoff. DUH! SO. Here’s to Data, to The Little Skinny Dipper, to FLO the HOE, to the Queen B of HOW, to The KILLEr KOSTOFFIAN… go out there tonight and leave it all on the line. Become HOW’s next ICON.
Farthington: To the poors.
Doozer shakes his head, smiling all the while.
Dan must be recovering because he didn’t touch his.
And now a commercial.
Joe Hoffman: It’s time for our main event ladies and gentlemen! We’ve got the battle royal where the winner will be crowned the NEW ICON Champion!
Benny Newell: Everyone in this match is gonna die. Period.
Joe Hoffman: How will that even be possible?!
Benny Newell: Easy you fuck stick! Kostoff kills everybody and then buries himself because there’s nothing Kostoff HASN’T done in HOW.
The bell rings as all nine competitors are in the ring. They instantly descend upon the other but before they do anything, they automatically stop and they all turn to Kostoff. Kostoff doesn’t seem to be fazed by this, nor did the element of surprise because Kostoff knew he would be targeted out of the get go.
Kostoff gestures his hand as he tells the others to bring it. They are casuist at first until they start hammering away at Kostoff. Meanwhile, Doozer is just casually hanging back in the corner watching this all go down while being in a wheel chair closest to the far turnbuckle. However, just like Doozer, Farthington smiles as he quietly but smoothly rolls out of the ring and under the ropes. Not even Doozer saw him and he’s the one who’s the safest distance.
Joe Hoffman: Looks like a sound strategy for Doozer.
Benny Newell: More like Snoozer as he makes me yawn. That handicapped fuck has no reason to be in this match! However, there is a man with a much BETTER strategy and that is Farthington’s! That’s a good strategy everyone should adopt by sliding in the ring until the very end! Why has no one else tried that in HOW?!
Meanwhile, back in the ring, Kostoff continues to be mauled before he suddenly lets out a loud roar and stands as he pushes his arms outward, sending everyone flying to different parts of the ring. Kostoff walks over and picks up Stevens. He tosses him towards the ropes and runs at Stevens cleaning him up with a charging clothesline. Stevens drops to the ground hard as Kostoff looks at the carnage in the ring.
Joe Hoffman: Kostoff putting on a show here tonight! That loss to Brian Hollywood after taking down Darkwing Duck is definitely showing that frustration within Kostoff.
Benny Newell: You know Kostoff, if he’s in a bad mood, it’s going to show and right now it’s showing. Kostoff is one pissed off motherfucker!
Joe Hoffman: I feel sorry for everyone in that ring right now.
Benny Newell: I don’t fuck em all! Well…maybe not Kostofff…cause you know, I do enjoy living.
Kostoff continues his dominance as Bobbinette slides out of the ring. She quickly finds a steel chair and rolls back into the ring with it. Mamba gets involved and goes on the attack of Bobbinette and strikes her in the back. Bobbinette doesn’t appear to look impressed. Instead, Bobbinette turns around and hits mamba with a swift right handed strike to the jaw of Mamba. Mamba stumbles backwards towards the ropes as he holds his jaw while leaning against the ropes to keep him on his feet. Bobbinette charges at him and Mamba can’t react in time as Bobbinette swings the chair as the chair hits Mamba’s head as he is sent flying over the top rope and eliminated!
MAMBA HAS BEEN ELIMINATED!!!-VIA BOBBINETTE CAREY
Joe Hoffman: Bobbinette wasting no time in scoring eliminations!
Benny Newell: Now that’s what I’m talking about! Beautiful elimination by the Queen B!
Bobbinette, however, has forgotten about Kostoff still being in the ring. Kostoff charges towards Bobbinette. As Bobbinette turns back around, she is met with a running shoulder block from Kostoff. Kostoff begins striking her repeatedly with closed right fists for a few moments before picking Carey back up and sending her crashing back down with a DDT. Kostoff picks up Carey and attempts to throw her over the top rope to eliminate her. Carey gets thrown over the ropes, but hangs on and stays alive. As Kostoff is trying to remove Carey finger by finger, Flo interrupts and strikes Kostoff in the back with a running front dropkick. Carey is able to recompose herself as she gets back in the ring.
Carey and Florence meet in the middle of the ring and look each other in the eyes. They tease a confrontation but it is a short incident as Doozer, who got bored waiting in the corner turnbuckle, wheels his way in his wheelchair into the leg of Florence while Kostoff nails Carey at the same time with a charging clothesline. Kostoff picks up Carey and delivers the No Remorse finisher on her. Kostoff grabs Carey and launches her over the top rope and this time, Carey couldn’t hang on, nor grab the top rope as she hits the ground hard and thus ends her eyes on the ICON Championship.
BOBBINETTE CAREY HAS BEEN ELIMINATED!!!-VIA KOSTOFF
Joe Hoffman: And that does it for Bobbinette Carey!! Man I thought she was going to win this thing Benny!
Benny Newell: At least we can sleep better at night knowing that she got eliminated by a fellow Hall of Famer! No shame in that!
Kostoff smiles as Carey walks to the back. All of a sudden, Kostoff finds himself being lifted up in the air as he can’t grip the ropes to hold on as Scott Stevens lifts Kostoff up and pushes him over the top rope as Kostoff hits the ground.
CHRIS KOSTOFF HAS BEEN ELIMINATED!!!-VIA SCOTT STEVENS
Joe Hoffman: HOLY SHIT!!! Stevens eliminates Kostoff!! I did not see that one coming!!
Benny Newell: Motherfucker of Jesus!!…that’s no way of treating a Hall of Famer!! That fucking Lonesome Loser just needs to stop trying to gain anyone’s attention! That was cheap…but then again we’re talking about Stevens here!
Stevens is now the one who smiles and waves as Kostoff gets back to his feet and just stares COLDLY at Stevens before Kostoff yells something back at him.
Meanwhile, while Stevens shits his pants, yes seriously, he tries to shake off Kostoff’s words and turns around only to get met with an uppercut from Odell. Jiles finally sneaks around the ring, whose been mysteriously absent most of this match, and rolls into the ring. Jiles tries to sneak up behind Flo, but is unsuccessful as Flo turns around and lays a nice slap to the face of Jiles. Jiles shakes it off and smiles as Flo looks on in a what the fuck kind of way. Jiles drops down and delivers a low blow to Flo which causes Flo to drop down midway to the mat as she struggles to catch her breath.
Joe Hoffman: And there it is folks…the blow that was heard around the world.
Benny Newell: I should sue the fuck out of that motherfucker! I put a lot of investments into our HOW women!
Joe Hoffman: Well, unfortunately, this battle royal is anything goes and the referees can’t do anything about that Benny.
Benny Newell: Fucking sue me Hoffhole!
Jiles sets up for his finishing move looking to finish off Florence as she still struggles to stand completely up. Jiles moves in for the kill as he goes for the Terminal COOL superkick but Flo catches his foot!! Flo holds onto Jiles foot as Jiles now struggles to maintain his balance. Flo smiles as it looks like she’s got something in mind for Jiles as Jiles starts to figure it out. However he can’t do anything as Flo has his foot. As she holds onto his foot at the same time, Flo returns the favor and delivers a shot to the nut sack of Jiles as that shot, not only cringeworthy, but heard around the world. As Jiles struggles to balance on one foot, and hopping around unbalanced, he seemingly shakes his head as he knows where he’s going. Flo doesn’t give a fuck though as she shoves Jiles against the ropes and delivers the Red Flag which sends Jiles over the top rope and to the outside!
COOL JILES HAS BEEN ELIMINATED!!!-VIA FLORENCE KEARSEY.
Joe Hoffman: And there goes Jiles! Flo was able to get back into this match with a strong finish of Jiles!
Benny Newell: Your damn right for once Hoff. Don’t piss off a woman because they don’t give a fuck about the rules!
Stevens and Odell are still fighting on the outside but meanwhile inside the ring, Flo is looking on and contemplating breaking up the party but decides to just wait. That was a bad move, though, as she turns around and sees that Doozer is still in the ring. All alone in the ring, in his wheelchair.
Joe Hoffman: Oh boy…are you thinking what I’m thinking Benny?
Benny Newell: Oh yes I am and it makes me smile!
Joe Hoffman: You know you are a really really dark individual aren’t you?
Benny Newell: I plea the fifth, Hoffhole.
Flo looks on at doozer as Doozer just sits there before slowly looking up at Flo. Flo smiles before she attempts to grab Doozer but Doozer sends a hard kick to Flo’s right knee. Flo hops back a couple steps as Doozer all of a sudden hops out of his wheelchair. He grabs the wheelchair and starts to charge at Flo. Flo looks up and before she can react, Doozer plows Flo with the wheelchair and sends her over the top rope.
FLORENCE KEARSEY HAS BEEN ELIMINATED!!!-VIA DOOZER
Odell rolls into the ring while Doozer is celebrating his masterful elimination. But the celebration is short lived as Doozer turns around only to be clotheslined out of the ring over the top rope by Odell.
DOOZER HAS BEEN ELIMINATED!!!-VIA ODELL
Joe Hoffman: Holy shit that was intense!! I have a feeling that Doozer has been duping us the entire time.
Benny Newell: Oh come on, man, your easily duped you fuck twat! Only an absolute idiot would have believed Doozer was handicapped or injured!
Stevens gets back to his feet from the outside after his battle with Odell. Odell and Stevens pause as they look at each other seemingly knowing their the last two in the battle royal. None the less the two lock up again in the middle of the ring. Odell and Stevens begin trading blows against the other before Stevens ducks and sends a hard right into the abdomen of Odell. Odell lets out a gasp as Stevens ricochets off the ropes and delivers a superman punch straight to Odell. Odell stumbles backwards against the ropes as Stevens begins to charge at him. Odell blocks the strike and delivers a headbutt into Stevens before pulling down the ropes as Stevens loses his balance and falls over the top rope. However, Stevens saves himself and holds onto the ropes.
Joe Hoffman: Oh my god that was a close call for Stevens! He’s barely hanging on like a thread!
Benny Newell: I hope to god Steven’s loses this match! He doesn’t deserve to be ICON Champion!
Joe Hoffman: Wait a minute….something’s missing here…
Benny Newell: Yea a bottle of Jack you idiot! This one’s already gone! I need another one!
Stevens and Odell continue to play back and forth offense against each other as Odell is looking to hold his stronghold in the ring while Stevens fights for his life on the outside. Stevens misses a connection as Odell dodges before sending thumbs into Stevens eyes. Stevens rests his head over the ropes as he adjusts from the low blow move from Odell. Odell, seeing the opportunity, climbs to the top rope and targets Stevens. He thinks about his finisher but doesn’t end up attempting it for risk the move may backfire against him. Plus the man never goes completely to the top because, well…reasons…Odell finally gains his senses as he dives off the top rope and connects with a high dropkick which connects to Stevens as Stevens loses his grip and falls to the outside!
SCOTT STEVENS HAS BEEN ELIMINATED!!!-VIA ODELL
The two men lock eyes as O’Dell taunts Steven, awaiting the announcement of his victory and the acclaim of being the first ever ICON Champion of the HOW Refueled era. O’Dell almost tears up with memories of Shane Reynolds as Steven continues to jaw at O’Dell from the floor. Matt Boettcher is about to signal for the bell.
This doesn’t quite happen however as unbeknownst to O’Dell, the non-participating OCW Megastar has somehow found himself back in the ring and now appears to be the participating OCW Megastar. With O’Dell still focused on his back and forth with Stevens, he can’t react quickly enough. Cecilworth Farthington rushes towards him and drills a knee in the back, sending O’Dell toppling over the top rope at crashing down in front of Scott Stevens’ feet. Stevens and O’Dell look back at the ring, both clearly, clearly pissed at this development as Senior Official Boettcher signals for the bell.
The crowd is in a stunned confused silence for a moment until an official announcement is made..
“Here is your winner and NEWWWWWWWWWW HIGH OCTANE WRESTLING ICON CHAMPION… He is the OCW Megastar…”
Dirk Dickwood hands a slip of paper over to the announcer.
“AND OCW ICON… Cecilworth… M!… Farthington”
The boos reign down upon the Yeungling Center like Hitler was just rebirthed in front of them and had very strong opinions on the Mueller Report. That is to say there are a lot of angry boos and two very angry HOW wrestlers standing outside the ring. Cecilworth snatches the belt out of the hands of Boettcher and hugs it as tightly as a newborn baby. Stevens and O’Dell rush back into the ring but it’s too late as Cecilworth, his ghost and his new child get the hell out of dodge through the crowd.