Refueled VIII Results
No show opening package.
No theme song.
No ringside with Benny and Joe.
Instead, the camera is backstage in the official office of the majority owner of High Octane Wrestling, Michael Lee Best. We know that it’s his office, because a big fucking oil painting of him hangs behind the desk. Michael himself is seated at the desk, his hands folded in front of him– he looks tired, with a very serious look on his face.
Mike Best: Good evening, Octanites. I guess I’m just going to say it. This wasn’t an easy decision to make, for a lot of reasons, and I’ve been back and forth with my father about this since the moment that War Games came to an end. After a lot of deliberating, and a lot of weighing our options, I just have to say it and hope that you all understand.
He looks down at the desk, taking a deep breath before making eye contact with the camera once again.
Mike Best: This was never meant to be a permanent thing. First, it was a monthly show, and then thanks to all of the fans and their dedication, we were able to bring HOW to you on a bi-weekly basis. And now, coming off of the War Games that was meant to decide everything, the decision has been made, and there is no going back. This will be the final episode of Refueled.
Michael stands up from the desk, as Lee Best enters the frame. He looks absolutely deflated by the situation that is happening right now, maybe even more depressed and downtrodden than his son. A lot of work had gone into making this work, but it just wasn’t working.
Mike Best: A lot of you are going to ask why, and to save answering a lot of text messages later, let me just say it now. The fact is, my father and I have said from day one that if we couldn’t do this right, then we shouldn’t do it at all. And here we are, running out of shithole Florida, and it’s clear that this is not doing it “right”. So tonight, please enjoy the last episode of Refueled. And when the show is over, and the fans have all gone home, I hope you’ll all join us next Friday in remembering The Refueled Era and all the good times we’ve had here in Tampa…
He crosses his hands in front of him, as the lights softly begin to dim in the office. Lee looks like he’s seriously distraught, and doesn’t want the next words to be said. He looks like he might cry, and a man like Lee Best does NOT cry easily.
Mike Best: …LIVE FROM FRIDAY NIGHT CHAOS IN ATLANTA GEORGIA!!!
In a swerve that hopefully made your butthole pucker up like a nymphomaniac in a kissing booth, the dimmed lights are complemented by obnoxious black lights coming on and strobe lights blasting throughout the office. Confetti begins to fall from the ceiling as “Celebration” by Kool and the Gang begins to blast over unseen speakers.
Michael Best starts to get down to the beats, dancing like only a true white businessman can in the middle of the office, as he glares over at his father to do the same. We now see what Lee has been dreading– he didn’t want to do the fucking dance.
Mike Best: DO THE DANCE DAD.
Lee Best: Nope.
Michael looks aggravated.
Mike Best: Hey quick let’s take a vote, all in favor of Lee doing the “FUCK YEAH WE GOT MONEY AND WE GOING ON THE ROAD” dance, say aye. AYE.
All 51% of Mike Best enjoys the sigh that comes out of Lee, as he hides a hint of a smirk and begins a very low energy dance of protest next to his son. Bitches come wandering in with champagne on a tray, handing the bottle to Mike Best as he pops the bottle and lets the bubbles who spill out all over the floor.
Mike Best: MOTHERFUCKERS WE’RE GOING TO ATLANTA. WE’RE GOING TO MEMPHIS. WE’RE GOING A BUNCH OF OTHER PLACES AND THEN WE’RE GOING HOME TO MOTHERFUCKING CHICAGO BECAUSE HIGH OCTANE WRESTLING IS BAAAAAAAAACK ALL THE MOTHERFUCKING WAY! NOW HIT MY FUCKING MUSIC BECAUSE IT’S TIME… OH… IT’S TIME!
The music that is playing ends, only to be replaced by “The Best Around” by Joe Esposito!!! Even Lee Best has to mark out for this, since it might be his favorite theme music in High Octane History, and the show is now set to begin as Mike and Lee party the cold open away into a fade back to the arena for the official opening of the final episode of Refueled.
We open the very first and last Refueled of the new Mike Best 51 percent era with a rocking Yuengling who can not wait for tonight’s show to get started. We cut down to ringside where Joe Hoffman and Benny Newell are sitting and ready to call tonight’s card.
Joe Hoffman: Welcome to Refueled Nine!!! We are back live from the Yuengling Center here in Tampa Bay, Florida after one of… if not the greatest War Games in HOW history.
Benny Newell: John Sektor did what he needed to do to make sure he walked out of War Games as HOW World champion… and to ensure that his team… and Mike Best won War Games.
Joe Hoffman: Yes, Mike Best, despite the brutal attack he took at the hands of the returning Ground Zero… and we’ll get into that later tonight when 3 members face off against each other… is now the 51 percent owner of HOW……and leading us back to Chicago!
Benny Newell: The SON of GOD is now in control and just like his father, who the fuck knows what’s gonna happen with him helming the machine…we got a taste of that in the opening segment….
Joe Hoffman: No doubt Benny…Also at War Games we saw Cecilworth Farthington retain his ICON championship and we saw MJ Flair crowned as the new LSD Champion in an ending to War Games that nearly saw Farthington arrested for murder.
Benny Newell: And I thought I was messed up Joe… Farthington nearly…
Joe Hoffman: We don’t need to rehash it here… instead we can talk about the new Tag Teams Champions, The eGG Bandits who won a crazy ladder match inside the War Games cell to claim those coveted titles. But there will be no rest for them as two of the members will defend those titles tonight against Darin Zion and Noah Hanson.
Benny Newell: That is if Bobby makes weight and if Jiles isn’t still all messed up. They may have to just hand those belts over later tonight.
Joe Hoffman: That would be a lackluster ending to Mike Best’s first show as majority owner… but that is later and right now we have the debuting Austin Bishop taking on the returning Steve Solex.
The lights dim and a synthetic horror sounding tune begins to fill the PA. Austin Bishop steps out from the back as the lights begin to come back up displaying a dense fog. Behind him Dick Fury walks, dressed in an all white suit with a red shirt. Fury walks backward down the ramp clapping on the side of his microphone for Bishop.
Dick Fury: Standing at seven feet tall and weighing in at two hundred and seventy nine pounds…. AUSTIN…. BIIISSSHHHOOOPPPP!!!
Joe Hoffman: While Bishop may be debuting tonight for HOW… we have seen this rat Fury before and Solex best keep an eye on him at ringside tonight.
Bishop makes his way into the ring as Fury calls for the music to cut and we hear some boos already coming in from the HOW crowd from those inebriated enough to poke at this monster from the false safety of their seats.
Dick Fury: Ladies and gentlemen… tonight you will get to bear witness to a scene of pure unadulterated destruction courtesy of The Savior… Steve Solex is going to be victimized, he is going to be brutalized, he is going to be… ANNIHILATED!
Fury looks into the camera.
Dick Fury: Steve, you were given a chance to avoid this.. to become a follower.. and you chose wrong.
As Fury discards his microphone to more boos Avenged Sevenfold’s This Mean War plays throughout the arena as Steve Solex makes his way through the curtain and onto the entrance ramp. Solex slowly makes his way to the ring, dodging any fan interaction.
Bryan McVay: And his opponent, from Huntington Beach, California and weighing in at 269 pounds…. STEVE SOLEX!!!!!
Joe Hoffman: It’s been a while since we have seen Solex here in HOW… I’d give you an exact date but I think Benny spilled Jack on that page of my notes already.
Benny Newell: Notes, notes, notes… just make something up like it’s been since 2015 since we have seen Solex in a ring. No one is fact checking this fucking show… and if they do… fuck em.
Solex takes the steps up to the apron, and walks across to the adjacent turnbuckle. He stands up on the second rope and hoists both of his fists into the air, taking in the adulation of the fans in attendance. He steps down and enters the ring through the second rope, and tests the ropes.
Joe Hoffman: Neither man is invoking a lot of positive reaction from the crowd tonight, but this should be a solid match up as both men make their first impact on the Refueled Era of HOW.
The bell sounds as the two men lock up as Solex pushes Bishop back and quickly delivers a couple of boots to the left knee of Bishop. But Bishop counters back with a hard right that staggers Solex down but in perfect position to connect with a hard elbow to the side of Bishop’s knee. Bishop tries to shake off the attack as he grabs Solex’s skull with both hands and pulls him back up off the ground and slams him down to the mat. Following it up with an elbow to the heart Bishop goes for the first cover of the match.
Benny Newell: Bishop for the quick win…
Solex kicks out as Bishop pulls him to his feet and whips him hard into the corner before charging towards him as Solex rolls out of the way and drop toe holds Bishop into the second turnbuckle. Bishop staggers up as Solex hits a big german suplex that has him reeling and connects with a neckbreaker as Bishop tries to pull himself back up.
Joe Hoffman: Solex may be giving up a near half foot and ten pounds to Bishop, but he is holding his own right now against the big monster.
Solex lays a stomp to the face of Bishop before pulling him back up to his feet. He kicks Bishop in the gut and goes for a stunner but Bishop pushes Solex in the back and into the ropes as Solex comes back and gets nails by a huge clothesline that turns him inside out.
Bishop grabs Solex by the arm and rips him up to his feet and throws him into the corner where Bishop delivers a hard headbutt to Solex that actually busts him open slightly.
Benny Newell: Match one and we already got some blood!
Joe Hoffman: Sickening headbutt by Bishop who is paying off as the monster Fury described.
Backing up from Solex, Bishop goes for a big boot, but there is still life in the now bloody Solex as he dodges the kick as Bishop’s leg gets hung up on the top rope and Solex connects with a reverse neck breaker. Solex stays on Bishop as he connects with a few hard rights to the face before Boettcher separates them as Bishop is still tied up in the ropes. Bishop is holding his knee as Solex rolls away trying to regain himself as he wipes blood away…
Joe Hoffman: What is this!
We see Fury at Ringside grab Solex’s head and start choking him across the bottom rope as the fans boo. Boettcher still attending to Bishop’s knee has no idea as Fury bounces Solex’s head up and down for almost ten seconds before he releases just as Boettcher turns around. Fury throws his hands up to show he has down nothing wrong as Bishop gets up from the corner and quickly shakes any pain he may have had in his knee off.
Joe Hoffman: A dirty choke by Fury behind the referee’s back!
Benny Newell: No idea what you mean Joe… referee saw nothing happen… so it all good.
Bishop goes to pull Solex up to his feet as he is calling as he calls for the end… but Solex grabs Bishop by the hair and rolls him up for a pin….
Joe Hoffman: Shoulder up by Bishop!
Bishop is enraged as he nails Solex with a hard elbow as he gets back to his feet, Solex is again stunned by the shot to the head as he slowly pulls himself up and Bishop charges at him and goes for a big kick to the head…
Joe Hoffman: Solex ducks!
Bishop turns around and get gets a kick to the gut from Solex who locks in a front face lock…
Joe Hoffman: Going for the SolexPlex!
Solex goes to lift Bishop up but it’s blocks as Bishop delievers a body shot, but Solex fights it off and goes to lift Bishop again…. But once again it’s blocked and Bishop comes up with a knee to the jaw of Solex.
Benny Newell: IN THE FACE!
Solex staggers back holding his jaw as Bishop hits the ropes and connects with a big kick to the side of Solex’s head laying him straight out.
Joe Hoffman: What a kick by Bishop! Which I’d give you the name…. But again…. My notes Benny. Regardless… cover by Bishop.
DING DING DING
Bryan McVay: Here…
Fury grabs the microphone from McVay as he rolls into the ring and raises Bishop’s arm.
Dick Fury: YOUR DESTROYER…. THE SAVIOR…. AUSTIN BISHOP!!!!!!
Tossing the microphone Fury and exit the ring as Solex is starting to sit up and regain some form of consciousness after that big kick from Bishop.
Joe Hoffman: Bishop comes out on top in his first HOW match… but Steve Solex hung well. He just couldn’t overcome this monster of Bishop and Fury’s underhanded…
Benny Newell: Nothing happened Joe… Mr. Futy was a saint at ringside watching the savior.
Joe shakes his head as Solex rolls out of the ring holding his head as we cut away.
Backstage in the Yuengling Center we see Scottywood sitting back in a leather recliner watching the show. Not dressed to fight tonight, The Hardcore Artist is obviously still recovering from the War Games match some two weeks ago. The beer is helping, but the pain, both physically and emotionally is still there.
Scottywood: First in… first out… not the War Games I was hoping for… but the outcome was exactly what I saw. Team Mike Best defeating Team Lee Alliance… yes… Lee Alliance cause they were NOT the BEST at War Games. They fell short as me, Sektor, Cecil, Max and Haly all came out on top and won War Games. Yes… I won War Games… you can not argue that. period.
Scotty Smiles as he takes a drink of his Cigar City Jai Alai IPA and gingerly places it back down on the table next to his recliner.
Scottywood: The only other winner that came out of War Games was MJ Flair. The other first entrant with me who went bell to bell at War Games and was awarded the LSD Title. I say awarded only cause… you didn’t win that title. You certainly earned that title… I will not argue it… but you didn’t earn it. Now on whatever show we face off on… I guess it will be Chaos now… that LSD title will be on the line against the most decorated LSD champion of the new era. Fuck that Witness shit.
You can feel Lee Best’s blood curling backstage somewhere for Scotty ignoring the Golden Era.
Scottywood: So whenever… wherever… on whatever show you wanna call it… when we face off for that title… we’re gonna step things up. Let’s make it a No DQ… anything goes match. I know you’ve been in your fair share of fights likes this MJ, so let’s settle this in a way that the LSD Title deserves. Then… when I win I can officially… with Mike’s 51 percent blessing of course… rename that title the Longlive Scottywood Division.
Raising his beer glass to the camera, Scottywood cheers MJ Flair and the LSD title that will soon be his once again as we cut elsewhere backstage.
Backstage at the Yuengling Center is normally a hive of activity, makeup artists, stage hands, ring crew and pretty much every type of staff you’d expect to find backstage at a televised professional wrestling production would normally be milling around, working hard on their assigned tasks.
However, this part of the arena, not far from what would normally be the referee’s changing rooms is devoid of all such activity. No hustle and bustle here. Just quiet. Some natural or unnatural disaster has not befallen the production crew in this area, oh no.
For stood in front of the whitewashed wall, trimmed in the colours of the.home team, ubiquitous across sports arenas worldwide is the group of professional wrestlers who collectively identify as Ground Zero. The five men are stood, all attired in the brand new Ground Zero tee, available from all the merch stands dotted around the arena (and, naturally, available on the website, too) seemingly waiting for something.
Maybe it was the red light on the camera, telling them they’re live. Because the largest man in the group, the two hundred sixty something pound, Five Time World Champion and founding member, Rhys Townsend steps forward.
Rhys Townsend: War. We all know War. Most of us have a friend, or a relative who’s fought in one. Some of us go to War Games. A brutal contest, fought until the utter submission of one of the opponents, no mercy. No quarter. Annihilation. That’s what you have to expect to do – to annihilate your opponents. Everything they have, everything they are, you have to be willing to annihilate…simply so you can further your own goals, your own agenda. And sometimes, the hatred between the two groups is deep enough, bitter enough to create a Ground Zero.
Townsend stops, reaching into the pocket of the track pants he’s wearing before producing and lighting a spliff with speed that would impress even Cancer Jiles. He takes a long, deep pull of the fragrant smoke before exhaling, slowly, and resuming his monologue.
Rhys Townsend: Like the one that was created by the tragedy in New York. Or the two in Japan that effectively ended hostilities in the Second World War. That’s what happened here – we all came to hate what was happening in High Octane Wrestling, what was being done in the name of professional wrestling. And so…we returned. Each of the men behind me have words they want to speak, things they want to communicate to you about why they’re here, clad in these gorgeous tees you can now pick up from any official HOW merchandise outlet…and none of those things involve me having a verbose monologue. So…
Silent Witness is the first of the other men to step forward, a small nod at the Welshman who steps back, puffing away at his spliff. The man who defined the entire LSD Division starts to speak.
Silent Witness: In the two weeks since War Games, all I’ve seen and all I’ve heard is some of HOW’s greatest ever performers – people that should know better – doing everything they can to criticise Ground Zero. Our fearful new leader; Mickey and the rest of the Mickey Mouse Club; Cecilworth Farthington and Max Kael… It seems that we have got under their skin…
He smirks; pleased with the reaction from the eMpire.
Silent Witness: These hashtag-hypocrites have spent the last few months running down everybody in HOW and everybody in OCW that weren’t part of their little group and for some reason, everybody has let them get on with it… Everybody has rolled over and let it happen. Or even worse, like a Scott Steven’s or a Darin Zion; they’ve pandered to it. Since when is that something that happens in HOW?! Since when has our roster been so afraid to stand up and call somebody out on their bullshit?!
He shakes his head; amazed.
Silent Witness: Hell, the only people that even tried to fight back against them were the Best Alliance! That asshole from Defiance has shown up the rest of the HOW roster for being the pussies that they are… It’s fucking embarrassing… But even they gave up, eventually. They got sick of the hypocrites talking shit, putting them down, only to be called burial artists when they dared to retaliate… And now here we are, two weeks after War Games and you can scroll through those Twitter timelines to find all three of them putting down Ground Zero. Hypocrites.
He pauses, trying to compose himself.
Silent Witness: And it’s pretty much inevitable that they will prove my point when they talk shit about us on Twitter once they’ve seen this. And Mickey will show just how petulant he is with more bullshit ‘punishment’ on the next Refueled… But we will still be here. Still calling out the Mickey Mouse Club on their bullshit. Calling out anybody else that continues to stand back and let these fucking ‘mean girls’ do whatever they want – which is basically everybody. That’s why we are here – we’ve already seen what the eMpire have done to OCW. Gone. Finished. What do you think they’re going to destroy next, if nobody stands up to them?
He pauses, staring straight into the camera lens; emotionless.
Silent Witness: HOW… And if HOW is going to go down in flames, then it’s going down with a fight, not as the Low Octane Wrestling it has become. And now, with a manchild running the show, things are only going to get worse, unless everybody grows some balls and fights back!
The fire in the eyes of Silent Witness is obvious, holding the camera for just a moment before he steps back. Ward takes a moment to look between his teammates, before he steps forward and addresses the camera.
Evan Ward: Since making my shock return at the end of War Games I’ve had a lot of people ask me: Evan, these guys you’re teaming with, can you really trust them? You have a lot of history with all of them, more bad than good, can you really trust them to have your back when it really matters and not just throw you to the wayside of it would further their career? The answer is obvious, really…
Ward raised an eyebrow.
Evan Ward: I trust these four men more than anyone on the planet. You don’t return from retirement to join a group you don’t trust. Sure, Townsend effectively ended my career at Iconic, but it’s only fitting he should be the one to bring me back to the ring. We mended our bridges a long time ago, there’s no doubt in my mind that we are on the same sentence of the same paragraph of the same page of the book of Ground Zero.
The legendary TV champion stepped forward and gestured at the camera.
Evan Ward: Tonight you will see that for yourself, when Rhys Townsend, Silent Witness and myself put on a wrestling masterclass to the impeccable refereeing of Christopher America. There will be no bullshit on our part, no divisions in the ranks like some expect, nor are we going to pussyfoot around. We will enter that ring as competitors, demonstrating the extent of our skills and our desires to win. Egos and baggage will be checked at the door, whoever wins is the better man on the night and grab some drinks to celebrate together after.
He stepped back and put his arms over the shoulders of his team mates and opponents.
Evan Ward: No one pushes us as hard and further than each other. We are teammates, friends, rivals and competitors. We are here to wrestle, no matter who is across the ring from us. We are Ground Zero!
Ward steps back, and there’s no hesitation from Christopher America, immediately stepping forward. The crowd inside of the arena explode at the sight of the Most American Man…In America! The High Octane Legend soaks in the reaction for a few moments, before he starts to speak.
Christopher America: What the hell happened to HOW?
America pauses briefly, letting that question linger in the air.
Christopher America: What happened to all the people I used to know? These men in Ground Zero? I know them. Most of these other guys and girls? I don’t know them. You got one guy wearing a mask, looking like he’s trying to cosplay as a hydrogen atom. You got the boulder from Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom managing the Egg Bandits. You got a Best Alliance that crumbled under pressure. And worst of all…… Mike Best is majority owner of HOW.
What offends me most of all was that I had no say in this.
I worked for Lee Best.
And when the 1% was put up for grabs in War Games, my job was inadvertently a part of that. I had no say. And to be honest, Mike probably didn’t care.
There’s a little head shake of disgust from the former World Champion, before he resumes his monologue.
Christopher America: You see, the problem with HOW isn’t the eMpire’s strength. They’ve always had it. It was their growing influence on the day to day operations of HOW. Think about it. Max Kael loses to Halitosis. Halitosis goes on to win the LBI and the World Title and somehow Max jumps to the front of the line? Farthington openly declares he’s not going to be in the match for the ICON Championship and then does go in?
When I was contacted about joining Ground Zero, I knew what had to be done.
It’s time to provide a checks and balances to the eMpire. It’s time we do what the Best Alliance couldn’t.
Again, like the two men before him, America’s passion, his fire is clearly written all across his American features.
Christopher America: I can assure that the eMpire and everyone else will find out that in their quest to ascend to the top of HOW, they will constantly find themselves back at Ground Zero.
America steps back, leaving the man who has that #970000 coloured championship, the newly crowned and now Five Time High Octane Wrestling World Champion, John Sektor to speak. Sektor looks across at the title laid on his shoulder before turning back to the camera.
John Sektor: War Games, was arguably the greatest moment of my life! No, you know what? It was the greatest moment of my life. You see, I’ve been to the very top of this mountain, and I’ve been right down to the very bottom. There were times when I doubted myself. There were times when I thought I was done. Fuck, there were times I considered taking my own miserable life!
His eyes have a glaze of emotion as he pouts his mouth.
John Sektor: Now? I’m back at the top of the fucking pile and I have these motherfuckers standing behind me!
He gestures with his thumb at his brothers in arms standing beside him.
John Sektor: I didn’t know where I stood until War Games. I chose Mike’s team, but do I really believe he can make this company greater than Lee ever did? You see I didn’t want HOW to die like Max wanted. I didn’t want it to be reborn in his bastard son’s image.
Sektor turns and looks at Townsend, smirking and looking back.
John Sektor: All it took was a phone call from that Welsh bastard to fit all the pieces of the puzzle into place. Ground Zero. Our team. PURE WRESTLING. No fucking bullshit murder sports. No self worshipping shit from Mike Best. Ground Zero, bringing the standard back to pure, technical, wrestling at its very best. It was all I needed to get me over the finishing line and mastermind my way to this…
He thrusts the title in the air.
John Sektor: WE have this, which means WE are in charge, and this is just the beginning. Ground Zero is special folks. Underestimate us. Mock us. Overlook us. It won’t matter…
Sektor leans in close, his steely eyes glaring into the lens.
John Sektor: WE..are going to rebuild this company..from Ground..fucking..Zero!
Sektor steps back, his words spent. Townsend doesn’t step forward again, merely turns back to the camera as he speaks once again.
Rhys Townsend: Every word you’ve heard these men utter tonight is the truth. You’re not looking at a random collection of guys who have to have a meeting in the locker room to straighten out the agenda before they cut the promo, you’re looking at a team of guys who can just walk in front of a camera, speak what’s in their heart and find that they’re on the same page as the four other guys.
He smiles, chucking the end of his spliff away as he does so.
Rhys Townsend: Because that’s the thing, right? I could tell you about the hypocrisy that pisses me off, the disregard the owners have for this place, for us, for you. I could talk about how we think we should be running the place, or I could even tell you how we are all focused on having the best possible professional wrestling match tonight.
But all I would be saying are words that my friends have spoken before me. That, High Octane, is what you are facing in Ground Zero. Not a disparate group of people, all working to individual goals, having to pull together and have hours of discussion to create some common goals to work from, some common goals acceptable to everyone’s ego.
Again, the Welshman pauses for effect.
Rhys Townsend: What you’re facing is a team. But not just any team…one with faith, with belief in it’s goals. One that knows, without any shadow of doubt, that it is right. And that? That makes us more dangerous than you could ever imagine. Some men of faith will starve themselves for weeks, others will walk hot coals, endure snake bites, come as close to dying as they possibly can…because they believe in their cause. Because they know they’re right.
Just like Ground Zero believes in it’s cause. Because Ground Zero? We know the words we speak, the beliefs we espouse? They’re right.
Townsend’s speech ends, and we’re left with all five members of Ground Zero, staring into the camera. And then we break for commercial.
Back live and the scene statics momentarily before the dulcet tones relaxing ukulele music drifts through the air. The deck of a large cruise ship with HOW Hall of Famer Maximillian Kael seated alone in a chair wearing a #97Red and white Hawaiian shirt and a pair of khaki shorts; his wrestling gear and full body brace visible beneath the clothing. Atop his head sits a large sun hat while a single tinted monocle covers his singular blue eye.
Set across his face is a wide, gleeful smile, probably far to happy, most likely forced. Taking in a deep breath Max carefully takes off his wide brimmed sun hat as a tangled mass of curly hair topples across his forehead.
Max Kael: Greetings High Octane Wrestling! I can’t be there with you tonight because I have officially set off on my Max Kael Presents The Death of HOW World Tour Cruise! Now, I know the arena is probably what, a quarter full? But for you dedicated losers I salute you! As my tour travels the world and the weakest of you slowly stop attending those who remain will get to join me, not literally, on my great Tour! And when it all ends, when HOW crawls to Rumble at the Rock sucking in it’s last few breaths.. I’ll be arriving in MAXOPOTAMIA! A totally real and not made up place to celebrate the END!
Max claps excitedly as he stamps his feet on the deck of the ship as the sun beats down across the pale visage of the Prime Minister of Maxopotamia.
Max Kael: For the first leg of the journey we will be going to Hong Kong! Exciting! There we will be picking up guests who will join me for the remainder of the journey but.. They won’t be our first guests! Oh no! For those of you there at the arena allow me.. To introduce you to our FIRST.. Guest on the Max Kael Presents The Death of HOW World Tour Cruise!..
The expression of the Lord of Kaelsalvania twists into an uncomfortable cross between a sneer and a smirk, his metal teeth shimmering between his chapped lips.
Max Kael: Oh and before I bring them over.. Let me take a moment to congratulate John Sektor on his High Octane Wrestling WORLD Championship victory at War Games. You took something that I cared about John.. so, instead of going and demanding that I get a title shot I thought, you know what? I’ll take something he cares about. So.. pay close attention Johnny boy..
The hideous expression doesn’t change as he reaches his hand out toward someone. A small child, a girl around the age of 8, runs up to Max as he sets his hand on her shoulder. She looks nervous to be on camera but not shy. More telling is when she looks toward Max his expression softens slightly as he offers her an encouraging smile before she turns back toward the camera, some degree of confidence instilled in her.
Max Kael: My VIP Guest, Chloe… Chloe.. John Sektor, what was her last name again? Oh never mind.. Chloe, what’s your last name, darling?
The young girl takes a short breath, her eyes staring up at the camera for a long moment before she chirped her answer.
Chloe: Kael! I’m Chloe Kael..
She turned to look back toward Max as he nodded his head toward her proudly before both looked toward the camera. Little Chloe beamed proudly, much as you would expect an 8 year old who just won their first spelling bee. Max’s expression was.. Far different. There was no innocence though there was certainly pride. And pettiness. And cruelty as his mirrored monocle fell from his face, his eerie blue eye beneath swirling with Max’s twisted intellect.
Max Kael: ..Ah yes, that’s right.. So long everyone, see you next time.. As always I am Maximillian Kael, First of my Name..
Chloe Kael: Long May He Maim!
The video ends as we cut back to ringside and the Hall of Fame announce team.
Joe Hoffman: It’s time for the second match of the evening, folks, and this one could certainly be one to remember. Crash Rodriguez is still a relative newcomer on the scene, looking to make his mark on High Octane Wrestling. He’ll have that opportunity tonight, as he faces off against a newcomer to HOW, the man of an undecided number of X’s, MAXKAEL Jr.
Benny Newell: I didn’t realize Max Kael was into fucking Japanese girls. Maybe we should hang out more often– you think when he eats Asian pussy with those big metal teeth, he’s hungry again in 20 minutes?
Joe Hoffman: Well, that’s SUPER racist. And inaccurate.
Benny Newell: Yeah guys, Joe Hoffman FUCKS. He knows the truth about eating Asian pussy. Preach, brother Joe!
Joe Hoffman: No I meant that MAXKAEL Jr. isn’t Max’s biological… I mean he’s only a few years younger than… and I don’t have an Asian fetish, you’re just– you know what? Let’s just go to the ring. I already feel the internet being angry about this.
The sounds of a vicious car wreck kick off the beginning of “Heroes & Villains” by Powerman 5000, as Crash Rodriguez out through the curtain and barrels down onto the ramp. He holds his arm in the air on his way to the ring, in the generic way that a man who needs to better define his entrance description might be so inclined to do.
Crash slides into the ring,climbing to his feet and dusting off his trunks. Taking his corner, referee Joel Hortega gives him a quick check over for contraband.
Joe Hoffman: Young Crash currently ranked fifth overall in the LSD Division here in HOW, with an overall record of 1-2. Maybe not the kind of start he was hoping for from a momentum standpoint, but tonight’s match is going to be a test for sure.
Benny Newell: You don’t fuck with the Little Tokyo District of Maxopotamia, Joe. Crash brought a chair to the ring, but nothing short of an atomic bomb is stopping MAXKAEL Jr.
Joe Hoffman: People DIED, Benny.
The lights in the arena flicker and die as the Herald Sub-Marquis Bentley Tennyson Farthington-Primrose appears on the stage illuminated by a single beam of white light. He sports a massive MAXKAEL Jr. Banner, which has Maximillian Kael’s big grinning face on it, which he waves over his head as he prances out onto the stage. As the fans begin to boo the Herald he retrieves a microphone from his tunic as “King Ghidorah’s Terror” begins to blare out, drowning out most of the crowd noise.
The Herald: Introducing the WORTHIEST ONE!.. Hailing.. from the the LITTLE TOKYO DISTRICT of MAXOPOTAMIA!!
The stage begins to flash with bright white and blue strobe lights as the densely built MAXKAEL Jr makes his way out onto the stage. His massive frame is covered by a long hooded robe, his face obscured by a kabuki mask that looks eerily similar to Maximillian Kael’s grinning face. He passes the Herald and pauses on the edge of the ramp, his twisted Max Kael mask staring down at the ring.
The Herald: Weighing in at two hundred and twenty two pounds and standing at six foot even.. he is… MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAXUKAAAAAAAAAAAAEL JUUUUNNNIIIOOOORRRRR!!!!
MAXKAEL Jr. pulls back his hood, his hands held in the air as the crowd boos the Legacy Holder of Maximillian Kael. Both the Herald and MAXKAEL Jr. then make their way toward the ring, the Herald screaming “Kneel Before MKJ!”. Upon reaching the ring MAXKAEL Jr. removes his robe, handing it over to the Herald before he tears his mask away, holding it high into the air before also handing it over.
The music dies as MAXKAEL Jr. slides into the ring and moves to his corner, his attention focused, his expression neutral. Joel Hortega checks him over for contraband as well, and once he’s satisfied, he rings the bell to begin the match.
DING DING DING
Right off the starting bell, MAXKAEL Jr. steps to the middle of the ring, slapping his own chest several times as he stares daggers into Crash Rodriguez. Crash flips his hair back, charging to the storm with a flying lariat… but MAXKAEL Jr. isn’t moved! There is a big “OOH!” from the crowd, but Crash rolls back to his feet and charges in again.
Joe Hoffman: MAXKAEL Jr. is the man who can’t be moved, Benny.
Benny Newell: Yeah, and I bet this idiot Crash is dumb enough to do it again.
MAXKAEL Jr. is barely staggered, and he motions for Crash to “bring it” one more time. Crash is happy to oblige, charging in for a third lariat, but at the last second he baseball slides, kicking MAXKAEL Jr. directly in the knee! The crowd pops as MAXKAEL Jr. drops to his other knee and grunts in frustration, but Crash isn’t done yet. He backs into the ropes one last time, charging forward with a running soccer kick that blasts MAXKAEL Jr. directly in the center of the face, hurling him to his back in the middle of the ring!
The unofficial son of Max Kael slaps a hand on the mat as he rolls to his knees, but Crash begins laying kicks into the large Japanese athlete, trying to keep him grounded. When it’s clear that they aren’t going to put him all the way back down, Crash throws his knee into MAXKAEL Jr’s back, grabbing him into a modified kneeling crossface and really trying to lock it in.
Benny Newell: I’ll give the kid this much– lotta balls on him. Not much for brains, but a lot of balls….
Joe Hoffman: I think what we’re seeing here is a sound strategy, Benny. I’d say it takes a lot of brains out there to figure out how to keep a monster like MAXKAEL Jr. off his feet and wear him down. Crash isn’t a technical wizard, but he’s sure doing some magic out here tonight.
Benny Newell: Get outta here with that Harry Potter wordplay bullshit. DRINK!
At ringside, the Herald is screaming for MAXKAEL Jr. to crawl toward the ropes, slamming his hands on the apron and cheering his ward. The monster struggles against the hold, but he can’t crawl– the knee in his back isn’t giving him room to go anywhere but straight up.
So he does.
With almost inhuman force, MAXKAEL Jr. pushes himself to his feet, literally holding Crash up on his back like a human backpack. Crash is shaking his head no, trying to fight to keep the hold locked in, as MAXKAEL Jr. screams out in pain from the even more leveraged crossface. With heavy steps, he pounds his feet toward the ropes one by one, finally collapsing forward onto the ropes and forcing Hortega to start the five count!
Before the five count has been reached, Crash begrudgingly drops the hold, falling to his feet off the back of the monster known as MAXKAEL Jr. He doesn’t stop his offense, though, laying a kick to the back of MAXKAEL Jr.’s knee, trying to hobble him once more.
Unfortunately for Crash, the knee doesn’t buckle– instead, MAXKAEL Jr. slowly turns around, his expression mechanical and unfeeling. He throws a gigantic knife edge chop that staggers Crash backward, and then another. And another. And another. The crowd is half counting along and half wincing, as the sternum of Crash Rodriguez takes a fucking beating in the middle of the ring.
Joe Hoffman: Things are turning around on Crash Rodriquez, and definitely not for the better!
Benny Newell: This is about to get REAL ugly. Crash’s fortune cookie today says “BEWARE BEING ACTUALLY MURDERED”.
Joe Hoffman: Fortune cookies are Chinese, Benny.
Benny Newell: See? Asian fetish. You know EVERYTHING.
Crash stumbles forward to throw a punch and end the onslaught, but MAXKAEL Jr. catches his arm and holds it in place. Crash throws a left hand to counter, but MAXKAEL Jr. catches that too! The faux-progeny of Max rips both arms toward him, colliding with Crash’s face in a huge, murderous headbutt, and then follows it up with a belly-to-belly suplex that rocks the ring!
As Crash hits the mat, MAXKAEL Jr. doesn’t let go of his arms. He drags him back to his feet, lifting him again, with a second belly-to-belly suplex! He drags up him a third time, clearly beginning to tire from moving the dead weight, and drops Crash Rodriguez with a THIRD FUCKING BELLY TO BELLY!
Benny Newell: SUPREX SHITTY! HE TAKE HIM TO SUPREX SHITTY!
Joe Hoffman: Benny for God’s sake STOP IT!
Benny Newell: HERRO PREASE.
Crash Rodriguez lies motionless in the ring, staring up at the ceiling as he thinks back to the magical time a few minutes ago when he was in full control of this match. It doesn’t last long, though, as MAXKAEL Jr. picks him up one more time, lifting him into the air and absolutely CRUSHING a spinning falcon arrow in the center of the ring. The MAXKAEL Spinning Special Driver ‘19! The crowd is almost silent as MAXKAEL Jr. holds him in place for the pin, and Hortega drops to count.
DING DING DING
Without much fanfare, MAXKAEL Jr. stands up in the middle of the ring, as the Herald climbs through the ropes and holds his arm in the air. The Herald is excited and animated, but MAXKAEL Jr. doesn’t seem to look proud of himself, only fulfilled in that his job is done.
Bryan McVay: Here is your winner by pinfall…. MAXKAAAAAAAEEEEEELLLLL JUUUUUUNNNNNNIOORRRRRRR!
The action cuts backstage while the suits back in the office begin apology letters due to the commentary by Benny Newell during this match.
The show feed jumps backstage and picks up inside the Bandits locker room.
It’s time for the big weigh in. Looking at Bobby, big is the keyword.
The three Bandits are all accounted for.
There’s Dooze, who is dressed in his Bandit fatigues. Bobby, who’s got on a robe, and a tag title draped across each of his bare shoulders. And Cool Jiles. No crutches, but the bulky brace and ice bag are still in play.
Jiles does have a fancy new chain around his neck, so there’s that.
The tension inside the room is palpable.
Like a fart in the mouth palpable.
There’s a bucket in the corner for emergency weight cutting. A hair trimmer incase Bobby needs to shave his head. There is even a bed of rocks and boiling hot water for some sort of sauna setup that hopefully isn’t needed.
And then of course, there is the scale. This is not your ordinary scale. No. No. The reason being, no ordinary scale can be used to eggsactly weigh “Beautiful” Bobby Dean.
Per Bandit decree #260 part B.
As for the weighing device itself, think of a seesaw. On one end, a box that weighs 260 eggsact pounds. On the other, a soon to be Bobby Dean. If when Bobby climbs on, and the seesaw is level, well, he’s 260. If he’s lower than the box of weights, hopefully the Bandits packed CBD. No reason to entertain what would happen if he were to be higher than the box of weights.
That’s just silly.
Doozer: Where is this witness at? The sooner this is over, the quicker Bobby can gorge himself on sugars and soda to recoup some of the lost energy from cutting weight. We need him primed for the big match!
The Beautiful Bandit pets his belly like it were a cute puppy dog. His face, while doing so, is… disturbing.
Jiles: The text I received said the randomly selected High Octane Superstar would be here after the second match. The second match is over, we are here, so that means…
A knock is heard on the door.
Jiles: Here we go.
Bobby Dean: I don’t know guys, I’m a little worried. I tried really hard, but..
Doozer: Enough. No turning back now.
The Dooze heads over to the door and opens it.
Standing in the way of the door, and possibly the Bandits having a chance at defending their newly won titles…
You can almost hear the Octabandits around the world collectively sigh.
Dane: I can’t fucking believe, after TEN fucking years, I’m dealing with egg shenanigan bullshit again! This is what I get for coming in ninth in War Games, ain’t it…
Dane trails off, muttering under his breath. Doozer throws his hands toward the ceiling.
Doozer: Mike set this up. I fuckin’ know it. First he makes us defend after damn near killing ourselves. Then he figures he’ll use up my number one contender shot for the ICON title after I’m even more beat up from this bullshit match… AND NOW ERIC FUCKING DANE IS OUR SPECIAL WITNESS!?!?!
Dane: Don’t kid yourself, Dooze, you guys aren’t even on Mike’s radar these days. As for this? Well, I never wanted another thing to do with… most of you, a fucking lifetime ago. Imagine how I feel right now? Maybe can we please get this shit over with?
The man of the hour, Bobby Dean, slowly steps forward with a lowered head, already accepting his defeat. Stopping just short of the “scale” he looks back at his fellow Bandits as if he’s already apologizing… then he turns toward Eric Dane.
Bobby Dean: R-r’member the time I-
Dane, arms crossed, shakes his head dismissively then gives a quick push to Dean, almost causing him to trip over the scale. After regaining his balance, Bobby lets out a deep sigh. Not sure if the suspense is overwhelming him, or if regaining his balance has winded him.
One of the two. Maybe both.
Dane: Fucking Christ. You’ve got to be kidding me, fellas.
After a look at his friends, Bobby begins to disrobe. In doing so a cascade of little foodlets begin to fall to the ground. Similar to the Skittles commercial, except instead of Skittles raining from the sky it’s cheetos and half melted chocolate kisses raining from the underside of Bobby’s massive fat roll of a stomach. Jiles and Dooze don’t look pleased as Bobby refuses to meet their eye.
Doozer: What!? Where did this shit come from?
Bobby looks at Doozer with feigned surprise.
Bobby: Oh my gosh, how did those get there!? I swear, it’s a conspiracy! Is this even Eric Dane?!
Amongst the confetti of treats, Dane walks over to check the apparatus. Good thing he’s here or that conversation might have gone on for another twenty minutes.
Dane: Hey, you guys sure this is 260 pounds? It looks a little…
Pause for holding the world in the palm of your hand.
Dane: On second thought, it looks like 260.
Jiles, who has been seated this whole time, almost falls out of his chair. Luckily, for his knee, he does not.
Doozer: Hey, give me a hand here, would ya?
Begrudgingly, Dane helps Doozer. With a great effort they push down on the other end of the scale for Bobby to sit on.
Bobby gingerly seats himself atop the Bandit Weigher 2600. The extra 0 helps sales.
Doozer and Dane step away.
The scale teeters back and forth…
Doozer’s jaw hits the floor.
Bobby begins to cry.
Dane: Uh, guys. What about the belts?
The Dooze picks up his jaw and with a glare towards his fat friend, quickly walks forward and retrieves the Tag Titles from the shoulders of the Beautiful one. The scale ever so slowly begins to even out.
Jiles: That looks pretty fucking level to me! How bout it!
Doozer: Any more level and there’d be an air bubble in between two lines in the middle.
Dane walks over, looking over the contraption, and the very much level Bobby Dean sitting on top of it. He turns back, staring down Doozer and Jiles before passing final judgement.
Dane: …looks legit to me. Break a leg out there tonight guys.
The Only Star exits.
The door closes behind him.
Doozer waits a second, and then begins to hoot. Jiles starts to holler. Dean is still crying, but now it’s joyous tears. He’s still sitting atop the scale while all this is going on, and, as fate would have it, he falls off. The two ensuing thuds cause cracks in the floor and the show feed to jump to where Blair Moise is with Halitosis.
Minutes before he faces Dan Ryan in single’s action, HOW’s backstage interviewer Blaire Moise has tracked down Halitosis for a quick pre-match question and answer session.
Blaire Moise: Blaire Moise here backstage and I have the ‘Luchador with Insanely Poor Oral Hygiene’ Halitosis with me.
Halitosis: Hi Blaire.
Blaire Moise: So Halitosis, earlier tonight you told me in lieu of Jackson Horne stepping down as your trainer and adviser and the dismissal of Matt the Manager and his crew, that you would be – and I’m quoting here – ‘trying out different ‘factions’ over the next couple of weeks.’
Halitosis: That’s right Blaire.
Blaire Moise: What exactly do you mean by ‘trying out factions?’
Halitosis: Well Blaire, that’s a great question. We all know that Dan Ryan belongs to the Best Alliance faction. John Sektor is part of Ground Zero- another faction. The Egg Bandits have their own little thing going. Everyone in HOW seems to be in a faction. So, I’ve decided to try out different groups of people to put together a faction of my own.
Blaire’s not sure she understands.
Blaire Moise: Um…okay. How exactly are you going to do that?
Halitosis: I’m going on the road next week to wrestle in some independent shows to get ready for John Sektor and I’ll be joined by different faction at every stop. We’ll see what works. We’ll see what doesn’t work.
Blaire Moise: Oh. Okay.
Blaire changes the subject and gets to the heart of the matter- tonight’s match.
Blaire Moise: Real quick. You’ve got Dan Ryan tonight.
Halitosis: Yes I do.
Blaire Moise: Any thoughts going into the match?
Halitosis: Blaire, Dan Ryan’s career speaks for itself. He’s used to this level of competition and he thrives in this level. He deserves all the respect in the world for the career he’s had. Tonight, I’m going to go into the match with the mindset that I’m still the underdog, I’m still the dark horse in this race, and I’m still the Cinderella man in this match- the ordinary schmuck trying to mix it up in the rarified air with the best of the best in the wrestling world. In my world, there’s no room for complacency. There’s no taking it easy. There’s no sloughing off. There’s no half-assing it. Overlooking Mr. Ryan in a wrestling match is just inviting him to deliver a cold, hard slap of reality called the Humility Bomb to you.
Blaire Moise: All right. Thanks Halitosis and good luck tonight.
World Championship Match
Halitosis vs. John Sektor©
ICON Championship Match
Doozer vs. Cecilworth Farthington©
LSD Championship Match
Scottywood vs. MJ Flair©
Aaron Watson’s “Live or Die Trying” plays over the loudspeaker.
“Defying odds, I’m defying gravity
Rising above all the negativity
I’ve got a long list of things they said I couldn’t do
I didn’t know I couldn’t fly, therefore I flew…”
A lucha wrestler walks out on the ramp. He is dressed in all black with a giant ‘H’ on the front of his shirt. He also has a strange greenish haze emitting from his mouth.
BryanMcVay: Introducing from the Island of Misfit Wrestlers and weighing in tonight at one hundred ninety-five pounds. He is the ‘Luchador with Insanely Poor Oral Hygiene.’ Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you ‘The Luchador with Insanely Poor Oral Hygiene’- HALITOSIS!
Halitosis pumps his first in the air and then starts down the ramp towards the ring. He slap people’s hands along the way and then says hello to a young fan in the front row- the fan promptly collapses when he get a whiff of his breath.
Halitosis then moves on to the next one. He says hello. The fan gets a blast of his breath and falls to the ground.
He continues on to greet the fans along the way- oblivious to the carnage he leaves behind.
Halitosis reaches the ring area and continues to greet people around the front row. Again, they all pass out once they get downwind of his breath and soon, the scene looks like a set of dominos falling over as she goes around the perimeter. He climbs up on the ring apron and leaps over the top rope into the ring.
He goes to shake McVay’s hand but the ring announcer bolts for the other side of the ring and tries to keep a safe distance away. Shrugging his shoulders, Halitosis looks out over the ropes and raises his arms in the air.
The lights go out and a dual-spotlight makes an encircling pattern on the entrance area as the opening riff of “Zero” Smashing Pumpkins plays. When the riff audio kicks it up a notch, Dan Ryan steps out and he he isn’t alone as Lindsay Troy is behind him.
Joe Hoffman: Looks like Dan Ryan is bringing back up Benny.
Benny Newell: Do you blame him Hoffman? I mean fighting that breath of Halitosis is like fighting five people at once.
Ryan heads down the aisle as pyro blasts behind him.
Bryan McVay: Hailing from Houston, Texas, and weighing in at 305 pounds!! He… is… DAAAAANNNN… RYYYYYYAAAANNNNN!!!
Ryan walks directly to the ring, rolls in under the bottom rope and climbs the nearest turnbuckle, keeping his arms down and smirking into the crowd as the music plays.
Joe Hoffman: Ryan looks confident tonight.
Benny Newell: As a Best Alliance member should.
Senior official, Matt Boettcher, checks both individuals before signaling for the bell.
Joe Hoffman: And here we go…..
Benny Newell: Where’s my flask?
The former HOW World Champion and the current CWF World Champion come out of their respective corners and begin to circle one another. Halitosis goes to lock up, but the Ego Buster decides to take a powder as he drops down and rolls out of the ring.
Joe Hoffman: What is he doing?
Benny Newell: What do you think Hoffhole? He’s getting from that asshole Halitosis calls a mouth.
The crowd boos as Dan leans on the outside of the ring and demands that Boettcher back Halitosis up.
Joe Hoffman: I hope Dan remembers he has a ten count to get back into the ring or he’ll be counted out.
Benny Newell: Look Hoffhole, just cause he looks like a Neanderthal doesn’t mean he is one, OK?! ?!?
Every time Halitosis comes near the ropes Dan backs up towards the barricade drawing more boos from the crowd as Lindsay Troy tells the crowd to shut the hell up. Dan Ryan waits for Boettcher to back Halitosis all the way before cautiously walking up the ring steps to the ire of the crowd. The former World champion sees his opportunity while Dan is distracted by the audience and slingshots his opponent back in to the ring.
Joe Hoffman: Halitosis is on the attack!
Benny Newell: Back that gum disease degenerate up Bitcher!
Halitosis hits a quick double foot stomp to the massive chest of Dan Ryan and goes for a quick cover that the powerhouse easily bench presses the luchador at the count of one.
Joe Hoffman: Dan Ryan showing his incredible strength.
Benny Newell: Going to take more than a measly stomp to put the Best Alliance down. DRINK!
Halitosis picks up Ryan, but the man who’s house uses the state of Texas as a door mat drills the luchador in the stomach and sends him flying with an overhead belly to belly, but to everyone’s surprise…..Halitosis lands on his feet.
Benny Newell: Did he just land on his feet?
Joe Hoffman: Yes and he just did a handspring too.
Benny Newell: Look out!
Benny and Lindsay’s screams are too late as Ryan turns around and eats a springboard elbow from the former World champion. The Ego Buster stumbles and the luchador goes to strike as he rushes towards the Texan and goes for a hurricanrana.
Joe Hoffman: Hurricanrana by Halitosis…..
Benny Newell: Not so fast Hoffman!
As Halitosis tries to bring the big man down, Dan Ryan shows off his incredible strength once again as he lifts the luchador ups and drills him with a powerbomb. Dan doesn’t release the hold and repeats the same attack three more times before putting the icing on the cake with a sit-out powerbomb.
Benny Newell: MCGILL-BOMB! IRONY AT IT’S FINEST!
Halitosis pops his shoulder up at the last possible instant and Dan Ryan can’t believe it. The man who uses Galveston in his backyard as his personal swimming pool gets into the face of Matt Boettcher and begins to argue the call.
Joe Hoffman: Dan thought he had him with that McGill-Bomb.
Boettcher stands his ground as he slaps Ryan’s hands away from his face and says it was a two.
Benny Newell: If I was Bitcher I wouldn’t piss of Dan Ryan.
Joe Hoffman: Why’s that?
Benny Newell: You heard of Chuck Norris?
Joe Hoffman: Yeah.
Benny Newell: Rumor has it that Dan Ryan was in a good mood and allowed Chuck Norris to assume his Ryanisms to make millions. Dan Ryan doesn’t do pushups he does Earth downs.
Joe Hoffman: Kill me now…..
Benny Newell: Someone once videotaped Dan Ryan mad and it was called the Texas Chainsaw Massacre.
As Benny continues to spit Ryanisms, Halitosis crawls his way towards the Texan and slips behind him.
Joe Hoffman: School boy!
Ryan scrambles to his feet but his send to all four by a running dropkick to the big man’s knees. Halitosis looks out towards the crowd as they breathe life into the luchador who builds up a head of steam and looks to deliver a flying knee, but Dan Ryan lives up to his name as he busts Halitosis’ ego with a massive spinebuster followed by a jackknife cover.
Ryan doesn’t let go of one of the legs and transitions over into an ankle lock.
Joe Hoffman: Whether it’s power or submission Dan Ryan showing why he can beat you in different ways. His style is similar to Hall of Famer, Rhys Townsend.
Benny Newell: Fuck Townsend and his shitty nachos.
As Benny continues to berate Townsend, Dan Ryan uses his strength to crank on the ankle of Halitosis.
Joe Hoffman: Halitosis is screaming in pain.
Benny Newell: I would to if the man trying to break my ankle as a bicep vein bigger than the Rocky Mountains.
Lindsay Troy encourages her teammate to finish him, but the luchador as other plans as he uses his strength to push himself up. Halitosis is able to turn his head enough to face Ryan to deliver his secret weapon.
Joe Hoffman: LETHAL BREATH OF DEATH!
Hoffman yells as he places a clothespin on his nose.
Benny Newell: I think I’m going to puke.
Dan Ryan hits the mat as he gasps for air and Halitosis holds his ankle. Both men are down and Boettcher begins his ten count.
Halitosis crawls towards the corner.
Benny Newell: Get up Dan! You don’t do so well with ten counts!
Halitosis uses the ropes to pull himself up breaking the count. The luchador sees that the Texan is still down and continues to ascend to the top and looks to finish Ryan off.
Joe Hoffman: Halitosis looking for his senton…….what does she want?
Lindsay Troy and Halitosis begin to have words and Lindsay threatens to get on the apron.
Benny Newell: She’s got her partner’s back Hoffman. I’d have your back to if I gave a shit about you.
The distraction is all Dan needed as he hits the ropes causing the former World champion to crotch himself on the top rope. Ryan, still gasping for air, makes it to his feet and places Halitosis across his back.
Joe Hoffman: Oh God!
Benny Newell: Broken neck time!
Dan Ryan makes sure Halitosis is out as he hits the Headliner. Ryan shoots the half and hooks the inside leg as Boettcher counts to three.
Bryan McVay: Your winner by pinfall, DAAAAANNNN… RYYYYYYAAAANNNNN!!!
Lindsay Troy slides into the ring and pushes Boettcher out of the way so she can raise her Best Alliance partner’s arm in victory.
Joe Hoffman: Halitosis put on a hell of a fight, but it wasn’t his night.
Benny Newell: I think he made me limp from breathing in that mouth radiation of his.
Ryan and Troy continue to celebrate as we head backstage.
Backstage at the Yuengling Center in Tampa the HOW staff and crew are all very much hard at work bringing the fine HOTv viewers another action-packed episode of Refueled, the first, and last in the era of the eMpire of the Son. Speaking of, the Rising Son himself finds himself sitting in a high-backed leather office chair behind a sleek and modern looking glass-topped desk.
Mike Best: …and he loves the “cliffhanger ending”. I fucking died, man.
Sitting across from the Ultimate One Percenter is the current ICON Champion and BFF to the Boss, Cecilworth Farthington. The ICON title is draped across Farthington’s lap and surrounding him are several boxes of party favors and other such accouterments.
Cecilworth Farthington: Slightly disrespectful, Mike. My father died for this bit.
A knock comes to the door, Mike rolls his eyes.
Mike Best: I swear, it never ends…
Cecilworth Farthington: Please do not suffer the burnout, Michael. I do not wish to be fired in the middle of the night again.
Best’s reply is a smirk and a snicker. He turns his attention to the second knock at the door.
Mike Best: Jesus, are you a fuckin’ vampire? Open the door already.
The door opens and in steps Eric Dane. The Only Star has in his hands a rather large box with a big red bow wrapped around it. Farthington is having none of it, he hops up and brandishes the ICON title in front of him like Captain America with that silly flag shield of his.
Cecilworth Farthington: That box is ticking! It’s very obviously probably a bomb, maybe!
Eric Dane: Come on, now, it’s not a bomb.
Dane takes a step further into the office.
Cecilworth Farthington: How did you get past security, anyway?
Dane cocks his eyebrow.
Eric Dane: Seriously? There is no security. I knocked, Mike said come in. Maybe lay off the coffee there, Cecilworth.
He takes another few steps in, the ICON Champion does not budge.
Cecilworth Farthington: If this box is a bomb, I will be very upset with you, step-son.
The Only Star presents the box, a present, to Farthington.
Eric Dane: Look. Things got heated. We went to war. I lost, my team lost. It is what it is, and I still have a contract with HOW and I’m still here for the same reasons as before, to compete and to help the place thrive and grow and make us all a truckload of money.
Farthington’s eyes soften, just a bit. Behind him Mike Best takes this all in with an executive eye for bullshit. He doesn’t seem surprised at any of this.
Mike Best: You’re on the team. Good. Great. Get to the point, Eric, we’re all glad that you’re not doing the whole raging psychopath bit this week, but honestly I’ve got a lot of work to do, Cecilworth has a party to plan, and I really want to get all the ring kissing out of the way as soon as humanly possible.
Dane nods and sets the box down. He unties the bow and removes the lid. A faint glow seems to emanate from the box, similar to that scene in Pulp Fiction where Vincent Vega finds the briefcase full of Marsellus Wallace’s soul.
Cecilworth Farthington: Whaddaya got there, eh? IT HAD BETTER NOT BE A BOMB!
With as much of a flourish as is possible Dane brings out of the box the finest of Halliburton briefcases. Farthington’s eyes light up as Dane pops the locks and gives Cecilworth an eyeful of the upwards of seventeen dollars that has resided inside of said case since the Utah days.
Eric Dane: My way of saying congratulations, Champ.
Cecilworth Farthington: Is that… what I think it is?
Eric Dane: It’s a peace offering.
Cecilworth Farthington: BE SPECIFIC IS THAT MY BRIEFCASE OR SOME KIND OF SHITTY KNOCKOFF YOU PICKED UP AT A MEETING OF THE POORS?!
Eric Dane: It’s yours. I had Harmen dig it out of storage at the DEFplex in New Orleans.
Farthington snatches the briefcase out of Dane’s hands and inspects it. After a few awkward moments he gives a nod of approval.
Mike Best: Great, awesome, we’re all totally BFF FOR LIFE again and it totally has nothing to do with the fact that I’m the boss now. So did you need something, Eric, or are you just passing through?
Dane takes a slight step back.
Eric Dane: All I want is a shot-
Mike Best: Of course you’re here for a title shot. Let me ask you something: are you high? Get the fuck outta my office with that shit. You finished in ninth place.
The Only Star shakes his head.
Eric Dane: Not a title shot, Mike, I’m not stupid. I want a shot at making my mark on HOW. I’m tired of being an outsider around here, I need a signature moment, something for the highlight reels…
Mike considers this for a moment.
Mike Best: And I guess you have something in mind?
Dane answers without missing a beat.
Eric Dane: I’d like the opportunity to put Scottywood’s head on a pike, if we’re being honest.
Mike Best: You know he’s already booked for an LSD Title match at Chaos next week, right?
Eric rolls his eyes.
Eric Dane: If Scotty beats MJ I’ll eat my fucking boots.
Cecilworth Farthington: Verbal Contract! That is the most figurative form of written contract.
Mike Best: Yeah, well I want it in LITERAL writing. If Scottywood wins, you eat your boots. I’ll bring the $85 steak sauce for you to sop ‘em up with!
Eric Dane: Fine. But when he loses, I want a piece of him, dreadlocks and all!
The Rising son leans back, pursing his lips and stroking his beard as if in deep thought. After an exaggerated moment of this he answers.
Mike Best: I’ll think about it.
The monkeys in the truck take us to commercial as they continue to DUB out all mentions of Refueled for the next show.
Back live and we are once again backstage as Refueled rolls on…
Adrian Evans: Do you have the contract?
Adrian stops. He rolls his eyes and faces the wall of the hallway.
MJF: We don’t really do that, man. Scottywood says he wants a straight up no countout, no DQ match. I sign it, I mail it in. That’s the way it’s done.
She shrugs, and she leans against the wall opposite her business manager. He turns towards her and looks up into her face, and reaches into his suit jacket to pull out three folded sheets of paper.
Adrian Evans: So when I told you the pretext for this meeting, did that just go in one ear and out the other?
He hands her the papers, and she looks down at them. Technically he works for her, but she defers to his experience in most situations, and hates to disappoint him.
MJF: No, I was listening. Bring the contract in, try to establish some kind’a relationship. I just don’t know… is it even possible, man? He hates me.
That statement softens Adrian’s face, and he pats her on the hip while they continue walking.
Adrian Evans: Maybe. But you need his support if you’re going to be successful here, and he’s going to need yours if he wants the LSD Title to start off strong. I know how you are, Ms. Flair, but this is a situation where you need to bite your tongue and defer to the boss.
MJF: I know, man, I just never had to before.
Adrian laughs out loud. Very loudly.
Adrian Evans: Your first boss fired you for signing your contract in bad faith as a minor, and your second did literally nothing but appease you from the start because you brought more eyes to their product than anyone else has, before or since. Mr. Best, he’s a man that you’ve antagonized and belittled on social media for months. Eat some crow, show some respect, you’ll be better for it in the morning.
They stop in front of a closed door labeled ‘1%.’ Adrian nods his head.
Adrian Evans: Good luck.
MJF: You’re not comin’ in with me?
Adrian Evans: This is your conversation, Ms. Flair.
He holds up his fist. After a moment, she fistbumps him.
Adrian Evans: You’ve got this.
Adrian pats her on the hip and walks away. MJ takes a deep breath, looks down, closes her eyes, and braces herself. She takes a moment to smooth out some of the wrinkles on her brand new #97red T-shirt, advertising HIGH OCTANE FLAIR across the front.
And she knocks.
MJ opens the door and steps inside. On the other end of the small room, flanked by two monitors with different camera feeds from Refueled, is the Ultimate One Percenter himself, Mike Best. He’s studying some documents, but he looks up for a moment and then back down. Fighting the urge to turn around and leave, MJ walks to the desk with her papers in her hand.
Mike Best: Flair.
She approaches the desk, somewhat apprehensively.
MJF: So I’ve got the contract for my match with Scottywood. No countout, no DQ, that’s cool. Nothing needs to be rewritten.
Holding the papers out, MJ waits for Best to take them. He doesn’t, and after several seconds she drops them.
Mike Best: Most people just mail ‘em in. Something you need?
She hesitates for a moment.
MJF: I just… That thing you said in your press release about wiping the slate clean. Are we cool?
And he stares at her.
Mike Best: Cool.
Mike Best: Cool?
MJ just remembered, Cecilworth is his BFF.
Mike stands up to look her in the eye.
Mike Best: No, Flair. You and I are not ‘cool.’
Mike Best: You’re arrogant.
Mike Best: You’re disrespectful.
Mike Best: You’re obnoxious.
Depends on your point of view, but…
His demeanor softens. Just a bit.
Mike Best: But you’re a competent wrestler, and as disrespectful as you are to your betters, you’ve always treated Championships appropriately.
Mike sits back down, returning to his paperwork.
Mike Best: Besides, handling that three – on – one the way you did, that was pretty impressive. Who knows what might’ve happened, a few things change. So, Flair… we’re not cool. But you treat that Championship right, you give the fans their money’s worth, you show appropriate respect to the boys that’ve been here before you… we might actually get there.
And he dismisses her completely, returning his attention to his work. MJ stands there for a few seconds, processing everything.
Until she sticks out her hand.
MJF: Shake on it?
Mike Best: What?
MJF: You don’t play favorites if I answer disrespect with disrespect, and you let me defend my Championship as best I can, and I promise you, you won’t have any problems from me.
He considers this. Having Flair on good (or even neutral) terms with him would be one less headache, and what’s the worst that could happen? Quality product for his paying audience.
Mike shakes her hand.
Mike Best: Get outta here.
MJ nods, turns around, and walks towards the door.
Mike Best: Flair.
Mike Best: People are watching you. If you can get past Scotty, one on one, it’s gonna mean something. Don’t fuck it up.
As the boss returns to his work, MJ leaves the office, closing the door behind him.
A small smile spreads across her face as we cut away and back to ringside for our next match.
The action cuts back to the arena where Christopher America is standing inside the ring wearing a modified referee’s shirt where the top corner is blue with 50 white stars on it and the referee stripes have been replaced with red and white stripes.
Brian McVay: The following contest is the Ground Zero triple threat match!
All three members of Ground Zero walk out together. They pose on the ramp and taunt the crowd who roar their approval.
Joe Hoffman: And Ground Zero showing signs of solidarity by coming out together!
Benny Newell: Fucking idiots. Only one of them is going to win and the others are going to lose. Fuck your solidarity!
Joe Hoffman: Ground Zero consist of men who have held numerous World, ICON, LSD, Tag, and other championships in HOW. I think we have to give them the benefit of the doubt in that they know what they are doing.
Silent Witness, Evan Ward, and Rhys Townsend enter the ring. With America, the three men huddle together and nod their heads.
America backs up, calls for the bell and Silent Witness immediately lays down and Townsend goes to cover. America counts.
Evan Ward yells at America to stop. Evan Ward grabs a microphone.
Benny Newell: AMERICA! DO YOUR FUCKING JOB AND COUNT HIM!
Evan Ward: No, no, no, no. You wanted a triple threat? You’re going to get a triple threat!
The other men all smile and nod as the crowd roars.
Ward, Witness, and Townsend all circle each other before Witness and Townsend lock up. Ward immediately ducks behind Witness grabs him by the waist, hoists him up for a German suplex, rolls right back on to his feet and charges Townsend who quickly lands a hip toss. Townsend covers Ward but before America can count to 1, Ward kicks out. As Townsend is kicked out, Silent Witness hits a running neck snap on to Townsend. Witness quickly gets up and runs the ropes as Ward is getting to his feet. Witness goes for a drop kick but Ward catches Witness’ legs and begins kicking at them, relying on his background in martial arts.
Joe Hoffman: What an amazing sequence of moves! I can barely keep up!
Benny Newell: Name of my sex tape!
Townsend is up again and spins Ward around. He goes for a kick to the gut but Ward catches his leg, performs a leg sweep and then begins kicking at the legs of Townsend. With Townsend down, Ward runs towards the ropes, leaps, and hits a springboard moonsault onto Townsend.
Ward leaps off, runs towards Witness and lands a low dropkick to his head. Ward covers.
The crowd roars as no man appears to be staying down.
Joe Hoffman: I’m somewhat flabberghasted as I’m not used to seeing all three men during a triple threat!
Benny Newell: That’s because these idiots don’t know how to fucking isolate someone! Throw one of these bastards out of the ring. Hell, clock the ref! DO SOMETHING TO WIN!
Townsend starts to get to his feet. Ward runs to the ropes and leaps off. Townsend grabs Ward and hits a powerslam. He maintains his grip on Ward, lifts him up and drives him down across his knee.
The cover is broken up by Silent Witness.
Witness grabs Townsend from behind and hits a Russian leg sweep. Witness rolls back through, gets up and hits a double stomp on Townsend’s chest.
Witness then goes over to Ward, picks him and hits a flurry of suplexes – alternating between snap, fisherman, and vertical.
The cover is broken up by Townsend.
Townsend begins by smashing forearms into the face of Witness. Witness staggers to the ropes. Townsend whips him across the ring and hits a hard clotheseline. Townsend covers.
Ward breaks it up at the last possible second!
Ward begins kicking away at Townsend’s back. Townsend is shaking off the pain, struggling to get to his feet. While on one knee, Ward runs and hits a high knee. Townsend slumps down.
Townsend kicks out at 2 and a half!
Benny Newell: NOW, AMERICA! Beat them all down! TURN ON ‘EM!
But Benny’s pleas for all on deaf ears.
Benny Newell: COME ON, TOWNSEND! Go get a chair and unload on them!
Joe Hoffman: SIT DOWN, BENNY!
Ward goes over to Witness but Witness played possum and rolls Ward up for an inside cradle.
Ward shifts his weight!
Witness kicks out!
Joe Hoffman: I can’t believe this match! If this is any indication of what the eMpire will be facing, the eMpire could be in for lots of trouble!
Benny Newell: Please! If Mike needs help, I’ve been training and can help take out some of these assholes!
Joe Hoffman: Training in what?
Benny Newell: TRAINING! Fuck you, Hoffman!
Townsend gets up and looks at Witness and Ward. They all stare at each other as the crowd roars.
Crowd: GRO-OUND ZE-RO! GRO-OUND ZE-RO! GRO-OUND ZE-RO!
Townsend pops his neck and charges. He hits a shoulder tackle on to Ward. He pulls Witness to his feet and headbutts him right in the face. Ward staggers back to his feet as Townsend goes over and hits a running knee. Ward goes down.
Witness pulls Townsend off of Ward.
Witness steps over and wraps Townsend in an inverted boston crab. Townsend reaches for the ropes but its no use, he begins pulling Townsend back towards the center of the ring.
Evan Ward hits a giant superkick that connects right under Witness’ chin.
Witness releases his hold and falls to the mat.
Witness kicks out at the last second!
Ward gets up bounces off the ropes and hits a dropkick right into Townsend’s side. Townsend gets pushed out of the ring and lands hard on the outside. Witness struggles to his feet as Ward moves in. He wraps up Witness and goes for it!
Joe Hoffman: THE FIRST GENER—–
Midway through rotation, Witness breaks Ward’s hold. Ward lands on his feet behind Witness. Witness grabs Ward’s head and…
Joe Hoffman: THE SILENCER!
Ward falls to the mat as Townsend gets up on the outside.
Townsend pulls himself into the ring.
Townsend breaks up the pin too late.
Bryan McVay: Winner of this contest…..SILENT WITNESS!!!!!
Silent Witness stands in the ring, his arm held in the air by Christopher America as the crowd cheers a fantastically wrestled match by three of the most talented wrestlers in the history of High Octane Wrestling. Evan Ward rolls out of the ring, disappointed to be on the losing end of a hard fought contest, as Townsend climbs through the ropes, stepping to the outside of the ring.
Suddenly, “The Best Around” by Joe Esposito begins to blast over the speakers in the Yuengling Center, the fans giving the mightily cliche “mixed reaction” to the new 51% owner of HOW, Michael Lee Best, as he steps out from behind the curtain and onto the stage. In his hands, a #97Red colored clipboard holds some kind of documentation as he makes his way down to the ring. Immediately, the members of Ground Zero are on high alert, primed for a fight after the events at the end of War Games that saw them take turns beating down the 51% owner.
Michael smiles, seeing them all ready for a fight. A microphone in his other hand, he’s ready to assuage their concerns.
Mike Best: Witness, Evan, Rhys… I appreciate what the three of you did here tonight. You were right– this could have been a pay-per-view main event, and I gave it away right here tonight on free television. Think about what I must have planned for Rumble At The Rock, if I was willing to give THIS MATCH away… for free?
He raises an eyebrow to the men in the ring, and Townsend and Ward on the outside. Michael climbs the ring steps, ducking under the ropes and into the ring.
Mike Best: Now that being said, your services are no longer required in this ring. I’m here to talk to our esteemed special referee. Go on now.
None of the other members of Ground Zero seem to want to budge, as Witness steps toward the entranceway side of the ropes in protection of Hall of Famer Chris America. Ground Zero is nothing if not a unit. America reassures them that he can handle himself, waving the other members of his new stable away and letting them know that he’ll be fine– he’s had wars with the 51% owner of HOW, and he isn’t afraid of him.
They aren’t happy about it, but Witness, Ward and Townsend make their way up the ramp, walking toward the back as America and Mike Best are left alone in the ring.
Mike Best: Chris, I’ll be honest, it’s good to see you in the ring again. Sure, you guys beat my ass at War Games. But I’m glad to see that you’re finally back. We’ve had our wars, but I’m proud to stand in this ring and finally say… welcome back, Christopher America.
The crowd explodes into cheers, as Michael extends his hand for Christopher America to shake. The eyes of the Patriotic Hall of Famer are locked onto Best’s, but he nonetheless extends his hand and the two shake. The roar of the crowd gets even louder now.
Mike Best: But you know better than to think I’m just down here to jerk you off, right? You know that if I’m down here, it’s for a reason. And I’ve been on this show a fuckload too much already, so let me just get to the point. A decade ago, you and I took the HOFC Championship to the main event of March 2 Glory. We had a hell of a match, and then you powerbombed me through the floor of the Roman Coliseum. And you know what? Now that you’re all out of excuses… now that you’re back in a HOW ring…
The crowd begins to buzz.
Mike Best: Chris, I want to do it one more time.
Now, the crowd explodes into cheers, a rematch in the making for close to ten years. America looks unsure, but there is a competitive spark in his eyes as he tries to hide a wry smirk.
Mike Best: I want you to shake my hand and sign this contract, and I want you to agree to face me at Rumble at the Rock. And in the tradition of HOW shows at Alcatraz… I want to do it right. Christopher America and Mike Best… in Solitary Confinement!
America’s eyes grow wide, but he doesn’t take them off the eyes of his old nemesis. The crowd is at like, shitting their pants levels of excited for the prospect of this, and if you think that sounds like an exaggeration, then you haven’t been here long enough to know that this might be one of the biggest matches in the history of HOW.
Mike Best: Two men, abducted and thrown into Solitary Confinement at Alcatraz until the opening bell of the match is set to ring. No titles. No bullshit stipulations. Just you and me, one on one, winner takes all. We’re 1-1, Chris. This is the great tiebreaker.
He pulls up the clipboard, flipping past all the convoluted pages in the contract and presenting the clipboard to Christopher America. It’s a contract for the match, and Mike Best’s signature is already on it.
Mike Best: So what do you say? All I need is your signature on the dotted line. You know the rules. They can’t kidnap us without our permission.
The crowd is buzzing hard, as America thinks it over in the ring. His first singles match in years upon years, and the crowd is certainly an influence on his decision– peer pressure always wins. The buzz turns to an almost violent cheer, as he takes the clipboard and pen from Mike Best, signing his name on the line below Mike’s!
The 51% owner of HOW smiles, taking the contract back and shaking hands with the man who was at one point his greatest enemy in HOW.
Mike Best: You hear that, Chris? The roar of that crowd? I want you to take that in. I want you to remember this moment. I want you to hold onto it like a video in your head, from now until October 12, at Rumble at the Rock. And the reason I want you to remember it, Christopher America… is because it’s the last time you’re going to hear it until then. See, you’re going into Solitary just a… little… earlier than I am.
As soon as the words leave his mouth, America realizes what is about to happen– but it’s too late. Immediately, armed guards in masks and full SWAT gear begin to pour out from the alleyways in the crowd, hopping the guard rail one by one and surrounding the ring. America’s excitement turns to worry, and then to fury, as he lunges for the 51% owner of High Octane Wrestling– by the guards are already filing into the ring, and they hold him back.
Mike Best: You know the rules, Chris– once it’s your time to go, it’s your time to go. Everyone say goodbye to Christopher America.
The fans immediately turn on Michael Best, who looks pleased with himself as the guards forcibly zip tie and restrain the HOW Hall of Famer. He is hauled en masse by the hired mercenaries, as Michael waves goodbye to him, with faux sadness in his eyes.
Mike Best: I’ll see you on October 12th, Chris– you stay strong in there! I want you ready, because we’re going to fucking war.
The crowd is enraged with the majority owner of HOW, as he continues to exaggeratedly wave at Christopher America who is being taken away with force.
HOW Refueled cuts to a commercial break after the first match of RATR being booked has been announced.
Back live and we cut to the announcers as its almost time for our main event.
Joe Hoffman: Before we go any further with the show I’ve been informed we have video incoming via satellite.
Benny Newell: You mean I can take a nap, right? Let me know if anything important happens!
The big screen lights up as TV static starts us off until the image becomes perfectly clear, causing the HOW audience to react loudly to the person sitting in a chair, without a prison jumpsuit on and without handcuffs around his wrists. In business casual, with a most serious look on his face, is former OCW Champion and OCW Hall of Fame member, the Incredible One.
Joe Hoffman: Benny, it’s TIO! The OCW superstar!
Benny Newell: Former OCW superstar…..that shit is scorched earth……..Isn’t the idiot supposed to be in jail? The hell is he doing here?
TIO: I’m sure you all must be wondering why I’m sitting here, addressing you and not rotting in a jail cell. The news will no doubt break soon but I wanted to make sure I was seen on HOTv first before anywhere else. A judge looked over my appeal on prisoner abuse and found out the previous judge had been paid by the warden. Hence, I am now a free man… but, my previous home, OCW, closed. Unfortunately for a certain individual, I have unfinished business.
Taking a moment, TIO leans into the camera and sounds more vicious than ever.
TIO: That’s right; I’m talking about YOU Mr. One Percent, Mr. Majority owner, Mike Best. I’ve been rotting away for the last 83 days… and maybe to some that isn’t a long time but that’s almost three months of having nothing to think about but getting my ass handed to me by the eMpire; Best taking my HOF ring and pretending it’s a stupid infinity stone for that stupid photo shoot of his. You may have snapped your fingers and put me on the shelf for what seemed like five years but I’m back now, hungrier and more ready than ever. You see I’ve got plans… best plans… and that involves doing the same thing you did in OCW Mike… I’m going to take over HOW. I’m going to get my HOF ring back and sooner than later… you’ll be handing me the HOW World Championship. Enjoy the time while you can Mr. Best because soon HOTv will be: this damn incredible.
Static engulfs the video and ends the feed in black as a large “TIO” chant echoes throughout the arena which obviously will NOT sit well with the HOW staff.
Refueled cuts to an unscheduled commercial break as no doubt people are scrambling to figure out how TIO got airtime approved on HOTv.
As schools reopen this month please take the time to remind your loved ones to show compassion for those that are often labeled “different” as new classes and new teachers can be hard for those on the spectrum.
Back live and we cut to the parking lot of the Yuengling Center where we see none other than Lee Best walking towards a black hummer limo. Blair Moise scrambles to catch up to Lee as the driver opens up the back door.
Blair Moise: Lee……wait…..do you….
Lee pauses….sighs heavily…and turns towards Blair.
Lee Best: One minute…..all you get…..what?
Blair Moise: With the transfer of 1% we have seen your son literally change the show…..be involved in several segments……but we have heard nothing from you or your ….
Lee holds up his hand and stop Blair in mid question.
Lee Best: I will keep it simple for ya. This is Mike’s show. This is Mike’s company. I will no longer be a part of anything that happens in front of the camera. As always, I will be the one doing all the dirty work behind the scenes……..so with that said….ya….The Best Alliance is no more. There is no point holding those wrestlers to a name that holds no weight. They are all legends in their own right and I am sure they will figure it out.
Before Blair can ask a follow up question, Lee enters the limo and the driver shuts the door and heads to the drivers seat where a few moments later we see the limo leave the Yuengling parking lot as we Blair looks on helplessly as we cut back inside the arena.
The lights dim.
Before any theme music can be played, Darin Zion’s voice can be heard.
Zion: NOPE. BULLSHIT. NO WAY. THAT FAT FUCK DIDN’T MAKE WEIGHT. THAT WASN’T EVEN A PROPER SCALE! DANE MUST STILL BE SUFFERING FROM A CONCUSSION!!!
Out from behind the curtain, Darin Zion and Noah Hanson, The Dying Breed. They both have microphones because sharing is caring. At least they are wearing their new team oriented ring gear.
Hanson: The titles are on the line. We DEMAND that Bobby Dean weigh in on THAT scale, in THAT ring! These fucks aren’t cheating us again!
Both Zion and Hanson start making their way down the ramp.
Joe Hoffman: These guys were supposed to come out separately I believe.
Benny Newell: Luckily for us they have a bone to pick.
Meanwhile, HOW backstage staff has hurried to set up a Detecto 437 Eye Level Physician Scale. They sneak it through the ropes with precision, and situate it dead center in the ring.
Zion and Hanson enter, and Zion jumps on the scale to test it out.
Hanson: Make sure it’s on the level. Never know with these guys.
Zion: Yup, it’s good.
Hanson: Bandits, get your fucking asses out here! Your time is up!
The Bandits music hits.
Doozer, dressed for battle, is first out. He looks ready to kill and starts heading towards the ring. He’s got one of the Tag Titles firmly around his waist. Bobby, sweating like a pig in trunks and a glorious robe, tries to keep pace behind him. He has the other Tag Title draped over his shoulder.
Finally, way behind both of them, limping up the pack, The Maestro. He’s got baggy dress pants and a half buttoned collared shirt on.
And a robotic looking brace around his right leg.
The music stops.
Doozer and Bobby enter the ring. Bobby walks up to the scale, looking at it like it were a plate of already eaten chicken wings.
Bobby Dean: Nah, I don’t think so. The witness said it was fine.
Zion: Well you don’t have a choice. I talked to the NEW BOSS. Asked him one question. Turns out he knew nothing about this HOW appointed random witness nonsense. So here we are, to witness you weighing in. What was it, Blob? 260?
Hanson: Now get your fat ass on there!
Hanson and Zion are smiling ear to ear. They have pulled one over on the Bandits. Bobby, is sweating. Doozer, is nervous.
And Jiles, has just now made his way down to ringside. He stays on the outside, wandering behind the whole mess as he’s unable to make it up the steps or climb into the ring. That, and he probably doesn’t want to mess up his threads rolling in on his back.
My, how the mighty have fallen.
Doozer: Who knows how much he’s eaten since then? This is unfair! I want to file a protest!
Hanson: Too bad. You shouldn’t have cheated in the first place! Don’t you know they never prosper. Now quit stalling!
Defeated, Doozer looks over at Dean, shaking his head.
Doozer: Fine. Get on Bobby. Fuck these two.
Dean hands the title to Dooze and disrobes. He tip toes on to the scale. He takes a deep breath, exhales, and closes his eyes. Zion slides the measuring weight over. Then over some more. And more. And more.
Hanson: Don’t break the thing!
Zion: I’m trying not– THERE! Holy fuck, you did it! You really did it! Amazing!
Bobby’s eyes shoot wide open with miracle like enthusiasm.
Zion: NOT. You cheating tub of lard. You’re 294 pounds! You’re out of here!
The Dooze is devastated. He watches like a statue as Bobby steps off the scale.
Parade rained on, and with his head sunk down, Bobby slowly exits the ring.
Being the good Bandit that Doozer is, he quickly rolls out under the bottom rope to console the newly returned Bandit. Bobby starts crying again. He can’t believe he let the team down. Doozer gives him a hug and tries to console him the best he can.
Benny Newell: What the fuck is this???? Is he really crying?
Joe Hoffman: I have no comment.
Zion and Hanson head over towards the two Bandits. They lean over the top rope, pointing at and chiding them as if they scored 300 on their SATS.
Sliding into the ring stealthy, the man whose hair you never take your eyes off of.
The Maestro of COOL, Cool Jiles.
Jiles wiggles his injured leg around some. The robot brace around it basically falls off and then gets launched into the crowd.
Some lucky kid just got the souvenir of a lifetime.
And sixteen stitches
Panicked, he looks around the ring for a second as if he were trying to find his car keys.
He carefully reaches out, and hoists up the scale that’s in the center of the ring. He does a quick spin for momentum and then blasts both Zion and Hanson across the back at the same time!
Benny Newell: OH MY GOD HE’S FINE! In other news, water is wet!
Joe Hoffman: I don’t know. This time…
Benny Newell: You would.
Zion and Hanson topple over the top rope and crash to the outside. The scale going right along with them.
Oozing COOL, Jiles stands inside the ring with the most proper of shitgrin across his face. After an idle pose, he hastily removes his shirt and arrogantly throws it at Zion. Then, he unfastens his belt buckle and steps out of the baggy, concealing dress pants.
Not one to show bias, the pants get thrown at Hanson.
Joe Hoffman: I thought those pants looked a little big..
Turns out Jiles was wearing his ring tights underneath his fancy getup this whole time.
With the boots to match.
Should have been a dead giveaway.
Bobby and Doozer look on, stunned, as if their eyes are deceiving them. Then, in unison, a devious smile. They share a fist bump and Dooze starts walking back towards the ring.
Joe Hoffman: Looks like it’s going to be Jiles and Doozer.
Benny Newell: Shocker.
After laying a few boots to Hanson, Doozer grabs him and rolls him into the ring. Right before that happens though, Zion tries to get back on his feet.
Joe Hoffman: This is not how you want to start a match.
The ring appears to move an inch as Zion is met with an avalanche splash into the ring post by Bobby Dean!
With Hanson now in the ring, Doozer heads over to the Bandits corner. As a lucky coincidence, Zion is sitting slouched against the post of the corner he is supposed to be in.
Just on the outside of the ring.
Bobby turns and starts making his way back up the ramp.
Benny Newell: What are the chances we see him again tonight?
Jiles starts barking at the ref to ring the bell. Boettcher looks for a reason not to but all parties are where they belong.
For the most part.
He quickly holds the titles up after Jiles threatens to egg his entire family. He looks at Hanson who is on a knee clutching at his back, then at Jiles who is licking his chops…
The match finally gets underway as Boettcher called for the bell. Jiles immediately charges at Hanson who obviously wasn’t ready for that beginning assault in the first place. Jiles darts straight at Hanson and plants him with a knee clip sending Hanson back to the mat. Jiles dances in the ring as he applauds himself for a job well done on his little injury scheme. He gives a thumbs up to Doozer who returns the thumbs up and adds a supply of smiles which definitely gets Jiles going.
Joe Hoffman: I still can’t believe we were deceived by that! What kind of man does something like that?
Benny Newell: I’d tell you…but you wouldn’t like the answer anyways! Besides, rotten or not…I can’t say anything bad about these Egg Bandits tonight…now on the otherhand…Zion and Hanson? These guys should have fucking known better. But it is what it is…you can’t change stupid. No wonder they call themselves the Dying Breed.
Jiles drops a head slam on an already hurting Hanson. The COOL upgrades his meter by taunting Hanson like he already knows how this match is going to go. Jiles taunts Hanson more before he picks him up and launches him into the corner turnbuckle. Jiles connects with a knife edge chop as Hanson starts to drop his guard. Jiles grabs him and whips him into the corner where he’s able to make the tag into Doozer. Doozer comes in and walks to the other side of the ring where he signals Jiles to launch Hanson his way. Jiles does so as Doozer takes him down with a mean clothesline. Dooze, happy with his one move, drops down and covers Hanson as Boettcher makes the count.
Joe Hoffman: And Hanson able to kick out. That was almost all she wrote for The Dying Breed. That would have been an embarrassing blow that Zion and Hanson did not need to their already cracked relationship.
Benny Newell: Heh…I see what you did there Hoffy. But it doesn’t really matter what Zion and Hanson do…their doomed to never be on the same side again. I don’t give a fuck how many times Zion has said they’ve got something up their sleeves…Zion and Hanson are just destined to destroy themselves. They can’t even come up with a simple fucking battle plan! Speaking of Zion…he’s still snoozing on the outside!
Much to Benny’s great geographical knowledge of ring awareness, Zion is still out on the outside up against the ring post as he is still recovering from the pre match assault. Meanwhile, back in the ring, Doozer continues to go to work on Hanson. Dooze is able to drop a leg onto the throat of Hanson, who grabs it just trying desperately to catch a break. Doozer mounts Hanson and just starts to release punch after punch onto Hanson who can’t even defend himself. Doozer starts to get a little too trigger fisty happy as he begins launching a barrage of punches that makes Boettcher step in and start counting on Doozer to stop his relentless assault on Hanson.
Doozer finally lets up on his portrait of punches on Hanson and puts his hands up in the air, finally backing off on Boettcher’s warning. Doozer’s attention, however, is taken outside the ring where medical are all of a sudden checking on Zion on the outside of the ring…
Joe Hoffman: Oh boy…this doesn’t look good.
Benny Newell: What the actual fuck?! No way Zion sustained that much damage…Zion looks like a fucking sausage on the outside of the ring. Looks like we’re going to have sausage with our eggs today Joe.
Hanson is able to catch a much needed break as he is able to catch a breath. He looks to his side of the corner and doesn’t see Zion whatsoever as he begins to mutter something in the ring. Clearly the audible department was able to catch what he said.
Noah Hanson: WHAT THE FUCK ZION?!
Medical check on Zion while Jiles starts dancing on the outside of the ring, clearly proud of his work with Zion…not paying any attention to Hanson. This act of rage sets Hanson off as he’s able to get back to his feet. Doozer finally turns his attention back around but is blindsided by a running clothesline from Hanson. Doozer is rocked by the clothesline before getting back to his feet where Hanson is able to connect with a belly to back suplex dropping Doozer in the center of the ring. Jiles attention is immediately brought back into the ring action as he throws his hands up going what the fuck before Hanson turns around and blindsides him with a drop kick sending Jiles flying from the ring apron to the ground. Hanson goes back to work on Doozer before planting him with a tilt a whirl suplex. Trying to get something going, Hanson drops down and covers Doozer.
Joe Hoffman: Hanson starting to come alive in this match…despite the fact that Zion is dead on the outside!
Benny Newell: Perhaps Hanson misread Zion’s intentions! I don’t think Hanson knows Zion is unconscious right now! I knew this team was fragile!
Hanson finally sees what’s going on on the outside and rolls out of the ring to check on Zion. Zion is starting to stir but is still rocked from before the match. Hanson starts yelling at Zion as Doozer is able to get back to his feet. Doozer looks over to his corner as Jiles makes it back to his corner. With Hanson being occupied, Boettcher catches the tag made with Jiles coming back in the ring. Jiles just stands there and shrugs his shoulders as Boettcher begins the ten count as Hanson is clearly distracted.
Joe Hoffman: Hanson has no idea what’s going on in the ring! He’s too concerned about Zion being in this match!
Benny Newell: That fucker is going to get counted out!! Oh my god this is embarrassment gold at its FINEST!
Jiles just starts to taunt Hanson further as Hanson is still paying no attention to what’s going on in the ring…
Joe Hoffman: Oh my god you’ve got to be kidding me!!….
Benny Newell: This has got to be the worst match in the history of High Octane Wrestling!….But surprisingly entertaining!
Hanson finally realizes what’s going on in the ring as his eyes rise up but a smile comes across his face..
Joe Hoffman: Wait…the hell?
Benny Newell: Doesn’t he know he’s about to get counted out?!
But before Boettcher can get to ten, his attention is turned in the ring where Jiles was still taunting but that’s not what catches his peak. It’s actually DARIN ZION who rolled in the ring behind him…looking COMPLETELY FINE!! Hanson rolls back into the ring before the ten count, but the distraction from Zion was enough to buy Hanson some time to get back into the ring. But before Jiles can charge at Hanson, Zion spins a surprised Jiles around and over his shoulders as he levels Jiles out with The Devistation!
Joe Hoffman: Holy hell what a ruse that was from Zion! And it cost Jiles dearly!
Benny Newell: Hanson is the legal man and he’s heading to the top rope!
Joe Hoffman: We could see a Ladykiller coming here!!
However, before Hanson can connect with it, Zion is clotheslined from the back by Doozer, who has seen enough. Hanson immediately hops down and hits a running knee on Doozer taking him out. Zion gets back to his feet who rolls out of the ring and wants the tag from Hanson. Hanson throws his hands up in the air as he begins to protest like he was going to end the match.
Joe Hoffman: Well that didn’t last long..
Benny Newell: Hanson was going to end it but Zion wants to actually get into this match. I think Hanson knew he could have ended the match right there…I don’t think they planned that segment at all…
Hanson brushes off Zion and turns his attention back to a completely out Jiles and makes the cover for himself. Boettcher is there and ready to make the count.
KICKOUT by Jiles at 2.999999!
Joe Hoffman: Not surprised there! Hanson could have ended that a lot sooner if Zion would have let him pin Jiles after he took down Doozer!
Benny Newell: See that’s what I don’t fucking get! Hanson and Zion, who could very well be getting their last Tag Team Championship match ever and this is happening!
After Jiles kicks out, Hanson walks over to Zion as the two begin to have a conversation. Tensions are running high right now but after a couple moments, the two all of a sudden start to seem like their on the right page as Hanson tags in Zion. Zion and Hanson give each other a nod before a focused, zoned in Zion turns his attention to Jiles. Jiles gets to his feet as Zion charges at him and takes him down with a crossbody! Zion follows it up with a snap DDT before Jiles falls flat in the middle of the ring. Doozer, gets to his feet before Zion clotheslines him over the top rope all fired up. Zion turns his attention back to Jiles, who is starting to get to one knee before Zion runs towards him and plasters him with a shining wizard. Jiles is out again as Zion goes for the cover.
But Jiles kicks out again!
Joe Hoffman: Man what is it going to take to put these egg bandits away?! Zion and Hanson are finally firing on all cylinders but the Bandits just keep finding ways to stay alive!
Benny Newell: Did I say this match was exciting? I was loving the beginning of this match more than now!
Joe Hoffman: Well you can’t deny this has actually turned into one hell of a match! Zion and Hanson fighting for their lives here as they try to keep their potential last chance for glory alive!
Zion doesn’t second guess himself as he tags back in Hanson. Hanson and Zion ricochet Jiles into the ropes, but they don’t see Doozer make the tag from the back as he disappears again as Jiles gets rocked by a double dropkick from Hanson and Zion. Hanson turns his attention to Jiles, thinking he’s the legal man, but it’s really Doozer who comes out of nowhere from the other side of the ring and manages to plant Hanson with a german suplex. Zion questions Boettcher but Boettcher informs him a legal tag was made.
Joe Hoffman: Even though Zion and Hanson are working together smoothly here, the tag champs are in smoother coordination with each other as they are the champs for a reason!
Benny Newell: Well of course they are….their rotten!
Zion is blindsided, though, by Bobby Dean…who everyone seemed to have forgotten was at ringside…as Bobby Dean pulls Zion from the ring apron as Boettcher doesn’t notice with Doozer setting up for Hanson to get back to his feet…looking to end things here! Hanson turns around as Doozer grabs him and goes for the Abuser and connects!!!
Joe Hoffman: THE ABUSER!!
Benny Newell: And it’s over!!! Thanks for playing DYING Breed!
Boettcher drops down for the count as Doozer hooks the leg of Hanson.
Joe Hoffman: Hanson’s not moving!
Benny Newell: FINALLY!!!
Benny Newell: YES!!!
But no!!! Hanson somehow gets the shoulder up!! Doozer is in disbelief as there’s no way Hanson should have kicked out of that. Bobby Dean is also in disbelief as he thought his distraction would work on the outside. Jiles starts to shake his head as he’s had enough of this match. Jiles gets in the ring, despite not being the legal man, and Doozer looks to finish this thing together…Zion finally gets back to his feet as he clotheslines Bobby in a fit of rage. Boettcher takes notice of this as he’s distracted with Zion as Jiles and Doozer start a double beatdown of Hanson. Zion finally sees what’s going on in the ring and he hops up on the apron looking pissed off trying to get Noah’s attention. Jiles backs off before Boettcher turns back around and looks back at the match again. Noah stirs as he finally sees Zion back on the ring apron…but it’s too late…as Doozer looks to end this once and for all with another Abuser…as Doozer stalks Hanson he waits for him to get back to his feet.
Joe Hoffman: Well this doesn’t look good for Zion and Hanson…looks like the Bandits plan was just too much better than Zion and Hanson’s…
Benny Newell: Told you it was too rotten! That’s why those damn Bandits always find a way to crack things their way!
Hanson finally gets back to his feet and Doozer immediately picks him up and attempts another Abuser but before that can happen…
“Catalyst” by Linkin Park hits the PA System as everyone genuinely seems confused.
Joe Hoffman: Wait a minute….what the hell is going on here?
Benny Newell: It seems like someone is getting ready to grace us with their presence.
Joe Hoffman: Yes but who?
Doozer drops Hanson as him and Jiles turn their attention around at the entrance ramp as their eyes light up to see who’s come out from the back.
Joe Hoffman: WAIT A MINUTE….WHAT THE HELL IS HE DOING HERE?!
Benny Newell: IT’S FUCKING BRIAN HOLLYWOOD!!!! What the fuck is he got to do with any of this?!!!
Brian Hollywood slowly walks down the ramp and doesn’t say a word as he all of a sudden just…..stops. He looks on at the Bandits, but unbeknownst to the Bandits, Hanson makes the tag in on Zion as Zion violently turns Doozer around and connects with The Devistation. Zion backs up as Hanson tags himself back in as Zion says what the fuck?! Hanson heads to the top and flips off Doozer as he connects with The Ladykiller. Jiles is too distracted with Hollywood, yelling at him as Hollywood still stands there and does…..NOTHING. Boettcher continues to monitor the match as Hanson hooks the leg of Doozer before Hollywood smirks and points in the ring…much to Jiles’ confusion.
As Jiles turns around, his eyes raise as he sees Hanson covering Doozer. He rushes into the ring….
Jiles couldn’t get there in time!!
Joe Hoffman: Oh my god!!! Hanson and Zion have done it!!!!
Benny Newell: NO…..FUCKING…..WAY!!!
DING DING DING
Bryan McVay: Here are your winners…….and NEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEW HOW TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS…..NOAH HANSON AND DARIN ZION….THE DYING BREED!!!!
Joe Hoffman: I can’t believe Zion and Hanson are the new HOW Tag Team Champions!
Benny Newell: I want to know why the FUCK Hollywood is out here! This makes no sense!
Hollywood smiles but remains on the ramp…Jiles and Doozer are in disbelief after what happened. Jiles isn’t being cool, though, after what just happened. Meanwhile, Hanson and Zion are now reacting after finding out they won the belts. Instead of celebrating, they all of a sudden start arguing. The camera cuts back to Hollywood, who after haven’t saying a word, slowly starts to proceed to the ring. He stops short as Jiles and Doozer look on at him. Bobby Dean is now back in the ring as Hanson and Zion all of a sudden stop arguing. Bobby Dean turns around and looks at them in confusion as Hollywood raises up his hand as if he’s indicating action. Just then he slowly nods his head at Zion and Hanson as a vindicated smile crosses his face. Zion and Hanson all of a sudden smile and shake hands as they both plow Bobby Dean with a double clothesline.
Joe Hoffman: Wait a minute?! What the hell is going on?!
Benny Newell: Oh you’ve got to be kidding me! You mean to tell me Hollywood was a part of this the whole time?!
Joe Hoffman: That’s not the only thing going on…LOOK!!!
Just then, Jace Savage, Crash Rodriguez, Scott Stevens and Jonny O Dell make their way out from the back. They all bum rush the ring and start bashing the Egg Bandits. Hollywood now rolls into the ring as Bryan McVay is plastered with an Executive Promise.
Joe Hoffman: What the fuck is going on?! Hollywood just took out McVay! Get security down here!
Matt Boettcher tries to break it up but he’s taken out by Darin Zion. Joel Hortega now is trying to get out in this mess and Hortega doesn’t last long as Scott Stevens takes him out with a toxic sting. A few security try to come down the ramp, but all of a sudden, an explosion is heard as a yuengling beer advertisement is all of a sudden taken out and takes out security.
Benny Newell: Who the fuck is trying to blow up the titantron now?!
That answer is finally revealed pretty quickly as all of a sudden, Scottywood appears with a barbed wire bat as he surveys the damage he just caused. He smiles as one of the security guys gets back to his feet but is plastered in the head with the bat. Scottywood then makes his way down the ramp as he joins in the onslaught of attacks on the bandits. Hollywood and Scottywood give each other a nod as then, the ring is starting to be taken apart by the both of them. Jace Savage and Crash Rodriguez begin to tear off the banners surrounding the ring as Odell and Stevens tell Benny Newell and Joe Hoffman to get lost.
They waste no time as they throw their headsets on the desk and take off running up the ramp…at least what’s left of it after Scottywood blew up the titantron…which caused considerable damage to the ramp area. The sound box can be heard rupturing and going off the scales due to the explosion. Back in the ring, Zion and Hanson take the ring ropes apart and begin choking out Doozer and Jiles with it. Hollywood and Scottywood begin tearing up the outside and ripping the barricades apart. They grab Bobby Dean and double whip him into the steel rods of the barricade as Bobby comes crashing down holding onto his back.
Stevens and Odell instantly grab the protection to the announcer table and tear it off. Hollywood grabs Dean and rams him into the announcers table. The crowd have no idea what to think but because of all the destruction that these guys are causing, they start drowning all of them in boos. At this point, there is no more commentary as Benny and Joe have been chased off by Stevens and Odell. Savage and Rodriguez are then signaled by Hollywood and Scottywood as they both lift up Bobby and double powerbomb him through the announcers table.
This group of eight then start literally tearing up the entire ringside area before Hollywood and Scottywood take their respective barbed wire weapons and begin to batter Doozer and Jiles with them. Afterwards, Zion and Hanson grab some steel chairs and begin to fuck with the lighting all around the ring and ramp areas. They begin to swing the chairs violently as sparks can be seen from the ruptured power areas. The entire ringside area and now the ramp are completely and utterly destroyed. You can’t even recognize the titantron anymore as that is hanging from the set…at least what’s left of it while the other half is on fire. Some more HOW officials show up trying to put out the fire, but Stevens and Odell dispatch them pretty quickly as they dispatched them with fire extinguishers.
HOW officials, referees and security are all literally laid out from the ramp to ringside and the scene is utterly chaotic. The lighting in the Yuengling Arena now begins to flicker because of all the damage these guys caused…..for completely unknown reasons.
Fans are on their feet…some frightened for their lives…but most everyone just gasps in silence as they witness the destruction all these men just left in their wake. A loud and clear message was sent…but its unknown just what that message actually was as there is no one speaking and commentary sounds like a ghost town.
Jiles, Doozer and Dean, all busted open from the vicious assault they just endured, are completely unconscious as Brian Hollywood, Scottywood, Darin Zion, Noah Hanson, Scott Stevens, Jace Savage, Jonny O dell and Crash Rodriguez stand tall in the center of a ring that is no longer a ring as every single man is not sporting one smile. They simply survey all the damage they all cost…which is pretty significant as the Yuengling Center is hardly recognizable at this point anymore. Fire sparks can be heard cracking from the ramp as there is literally no one coming out to put it out as there is no one left to do so. No one says a single word as they all remain strong before Hollywood slowly raises a microphone up to his mouth. He surveys the damage and looks on about the crowd and before he says anything…he says nothing by shaking his head and dropping the mic, which can be heard hitting the ground thanks to the now silent and destroyed arena as the echo carries throughout the arena.
The camera zooms in on these eight men one more time before Hollywood nods his head as Zion and Hanson raise the Tag Team Championships above their heads high in the air for all to see as Refueled slowly and quietly…..goes off the air…for the final time.