Ultratron-6.1 Goes into a Chuck E. Cheese’s and…

Ultratron-6.1 Goes into a Chuck E. Cheese’s and…

Posted on February 25, 2022 at 6:09 pm by Drew Mitchell

The last time we saw Sunny O’Callahan in High Octane Wrestling, someone backstage had the bright idea that Team MVW should both come out at the same time.

(Refueled 87- February 13th)
With Bo’s music playing, Cary Stevens leads Bo down to the ring.  Then an irate Ultratron-6.1 stomps down the ramp with an equally pissed off Sunny O’Callahan.  Trailing behind the band of dissonance? The Kabal of Really Awful People- ‘Defective’ Marty Pratt, David Litterman, The Murder Hornets, and Hawaii-Five-One-Five-O. 

Cary and Sunny snipe at each other on and off down the rampway.

Bo is trying to tell “the robot” how their match will go. Ultratron-6.1 displays his middle finger as a response.

David Litterman nonchalantly drops a half empty box of popcorn on the ramp. It tips over and popcorn spills out.

Yeah, not the best idea.  But it gets even better.

The camera cuts to the Team MVW corner.  Ultratron-6.1 and Bo Stevens carry on what could be generously described as an ‘animated discussion.’   However, the fans sitting in the front couple rows of the Mackey Arena in West Lafayette, Indiana get an extra treat tonight.  They can clearly hear every single heated word that’s thrown back and forth by Ultratron-6.1 and Bo Stevens AS WELL AS the ongoing and escalating argument between Sunny O’Callahan and Cary Stevens.

The camera pans and shows several parents putting their hands over their children’s ears. 

By contrast, HOW World Champion Conor Fuse and David Noble both watch the spectacle and appear relaxed… which for David Noble is quite the accomplishment… to be relaxed.

The match went exactly as you would think.  Fuse and Noble came together as a cohesive tag team knowing that a win tonight would leave them in charge of their own destiny going into their next match against Jeffrey James Roberts and Arthur Pleasant.

As for Bo Stevens and Ultratron-6.1, they were the grease-fire, trainwreck that everyone had figured they’d be.  To be fair, both men had their moments.  However, they also continued the practice of blind tagging each other at every opportunity.

Plus, the Sunny O’Callahan vs. Cary Stevens argument continued to rage out of control at ringside- much to the perverse delight of the fans within earshot.

The inevitable loss soon came- again Bo Stevens took the pinfall- and after the match Ultratron-6.1 disappeared into the night with the Kabal of Really Awful People leaving Sunny behind.

All by herself, her temper boiling over and just Itching to vent her spleen at someone… anyone, Sunny ripped through the backstage area like Bobby Dean searching for a Twinkie… of course with a HOTv camera following her.

Sunny O’Callahan: WHERE THE FUCK IS SHE?

HOW backstage workers scatter like bugs fleeing from a bright light shining on them when Hurricane Sunny comes into view in full indignant rage mode.

Sunny O’Callahan: I SAID… WHERE THE FUCK IS SHE?  SHE’S ALL OVER THE GODDAMN SHOW TONIGHT AND NOW SHE’S NOWHERE TO BE FOUND?

Who is she looking for?

Somewhere else- backstage
Blaire Moise rests in a chair and taking a well-deserved break after literally running from place to place to place doing four consecutive segments in the early part of the show.

Blaire Moise: Oh… peace and quiet.

She closes her eyes and finds herself drifting off into dreamland when…

Sunny O’Callahan’s voice: WHERE IN THE FUCK IS BLAIRE MOISE?  THE TRUE QUEEN OF PROFESSIONAL WRESTLING DEMANDS HERE AIR TIME!

The hair on Blaire’s arm raises up. 

Blaire Moise: …oh shit. 

She knows what’s coming her way. 

Blaire Moise; Not her.

Blaire hears Sunny get closer, coming on like a derailed freight train after it runs over a bus that tumbles down a ravine after a bunch of convicted felons try to escape and the bus ends up on the railroad tracks just as the train arrives. 

However, on a positive note, Dr. Richard Kimble did manage to save a guard, escape the collision, and flee into the Illinois countryside while the train derailed. 

Blaire’s head darts back and forth. There’s no chance in hell she wants to do another interview with Sunny O’Callahan but where can she go to hide? 

Blaire Moise: A room!

She sees a door to some room.  Maybe it would lead out of the building.  With Sunny still screaming at the top of her lungs and getting closer, Blaire realizes she has no choice.  She dives to the floor and crawls towards the door. 

Sunny O’Callahan’s voice: YOU!  WHERE IS BLAIRE MOISE? 

Keeping her head down and focused on the door, Blaire hears an extremely anxious backstage employee who’s just been confronted by Sunny try to sputter a response in return.

Employee’s voice: S-s-s-s-s-she’s….

Blaire Moise (whispering to herself): Don’t tell her… don’t tell her.

Sunny O’Callahan’s voice: WELL? 

Employee’s voice: S-s-s-s-s-s-she’s…

Sunny O’Callahan’s voice: WHERE THE FUCK IS SHE?

Then Blaire hears the employee break down and beginning to cry.

Employee’s voice: ….uh… uh…. she’s over there!

Blaire Moise: Son of a bitch. 

Blaire reaches up with her arm and twists open the door.  She scrambles through the tight opening and quietly brings the door slowing until it latches shut. 

Sunny O’Callahan’s voice: BLAIRE!

Holding her breath because she suddenly finds herself in some sort of giant metal tile designed to funnel large amounts of water to place to place and putting her hand over her mouth, Blaire braces herself for the holy hell that happens if Sunny saw her sneak into whatever room she snuck into. 

Sunny O’Callahan’s voice: She’s not here.  That asshole told me Blaire Moise was over here.  But she’s not.  GAHHH! 

*BOOM*

Blaire jumps at the sudden opening of the door.

*SLAM*

Walking into view now is a very frustrated Sunny O’Callahan. 

Blaire Moise: Shit!

Blaire tries to quietly head down the grate.  She hears the angry heavy footsteps keep getting closer and closer. 

Sunny O’Callahan’s voice: BLAIRE MOISE?  I KNOW YOU’RE IN HERE!

Picking up the pace, Blaire’s shoes begin to emit a small metallic noise associated with someone walking fast on a metal surface. 

Sunny O’Callahan’s voice: COME OUT!  YOU CAN’T ESCAPE!

The surface is wet now.  Blaire’s foot slips and then her feet get tangled up in the crate.  She falls with a noticeable sploosh! 

Blaire Moise: Dammit. 

Blaire collects herself and prepares to push herself back up.  She gets back to her feet.

Sunny O’Callahan: THERE YOU ARE!

And then stiffens at the harsh tone of Sunny O’Callahan’s. 

Sunny O’Callahan: DON’T MOVE! 

For some strange reason, Blaire puts her hands up. 

Sunny O’Callahan: TURN AROUND!  I WANT TO TALK TO YOU! 

Realizing that for some strange reason she was near the edge of an oversized water grate and staring down at the river below, Blaire knew she was running out of options. 

Sunny O’Callahan: NOW!

Blaire slowly turns around and faces Sunny with her hands still up in the air.  Harried, wet, desperate, and out of breath, Blaire says the most inexplicable thing to Sunny.

Blaire Moise: I didn’t kill my wife!

Sunny tilts her head a bit and looks quizzically back at HOW’s backstage interviewer trying to process what Blaire just said and trying to gleam the deep, hidden meaning behind Blaire’s statement. 

It takes a few seconds for Sunny to finally respond.

Sunny O’Callahan: I don’t care!

Now totally out of options, Blaire resigns herself to her fate.

She closes her eyes.  She bends her knees.  She launches herself off the edge of the oversized metal water grate and let gravity suck her down towards the river below.

Sunny O’Callahan: WHAT THE HELL?

Sunny runs up to the edge, shocked and confused at the great lengths that Blaire apparently would go just to avoid interviewing her.  Looking down, she sees Blaire disappear into the river below.

Sunny O’Callahan: WHAT ARE YOU?  SOME KIND OF FUGITIVE OR SOMETHING?

While Sunny throws another full blown fit, Blaire’s hurtling down towards the raging water down there.

Blaire Moise: No… no…

The water’s coming closer fast.

Blaire Moise: …NOOOOOOOOOO!

Disembodied Voice: BLAIRE!

Blaire nearly jumps a foot in the air.  By the time she comes down, her breathing is heavy and she’s wired as all hell.

Blaire Moise: What the hell?

HOW Backstage Technician: Sorry.  You kind of fell asleep.

Looking around at her surroundings, Blaire realizes she’s right back where she was before.

HOW Backstage Tech: I know they’ve been running you ragged all night long, but they want you to go interview James Cornfield next.

Blaire leans back in her chair and sighs.

Of course, Brian Bare ended up doing the interview with James Cornfield and then the last one with Darkwing.

Meanwhile…

Chuck E. Cheese’s – 15913 Manchester Rd. – Ellisville, MO 63011
Having been unceremoniously booted out of the St. Louis and St. Charles Chuck E. Cheese locations the past two weeks, the Kabal of Really Awful People find themselves in the far, far western suburbs of St. Louis at the Chuck E. Cheese’s in Ellsville, Missouri- population 9,985.

Sitting at the head of the table?  Of course, it’s ‘New Age Cybertronic Criminally Insane Rogue Sentient Robot Wrestling Machine’ Ultratron-6.  Operating as some sort of ‘tribal chief’ of the Kabal of Really Awful People, Ultratron just sits in his chair and stews as the group return to their seats.

First to sit down, the Murder Hornets.

Then… ‘Defective’ Marty Pratt and Bill E Zayne.

Bill E. Zayne: I HAVE A CHILD!

Zayne holds up the My Sweet Love Baby Doll’ strapped into a plastic pink car seat.

Bill E. Zayne: I HAVE A CHILD!

Hawaii Five-One-Five-O and David Litterman follow.

A long period of silence follows.  Ultratron-6.1 stares straight ahead.  He does not acknowledge the return of the K.R.A.P.- a fact that Pratt notices.  He leans over to David Litterman.

‘Defective’ Marty Pratt: He’s not acknowledging us.

Litterman was busy throwing the paper that covered his straw on the floor and didn’t quite hear him.

David Litterman: Huh?

‘Defective’ Marty Pratt: He’s not acknowledging us.

Litterman shrugs… and then drops an empty wing basket on the ground.  The paper inside the basket floats to the floor.

David Litterman: Maybe he’s waiting for us to…

Another napkin ends up on the carpet.

David Litterman: acknowledge him.

Pratt mulls Litterman’s statement.

‘Defective’ Marty Pratt: Huh.  You may have a point.

Pratt stands up.

‘Defective’ Marty Pratt: Ultratron-6.1.  I acknowledge-

Ultratron’s red glowing eyes do an eyeroll.

Ultratron-6.1: Sit down Marty.

Marty sits down.

Two metal fists pound on the table, demanding the attention of the K.R.A.P… and getting the attention of a group of small kids at an adjacent table enjoying a birthday party, too.

Ultratron-6.1: I am displeased.

David Litterman: Oh, oh.

All eyes turn to the jukebox across the way.  The last time Ultratron-6.1 was displeased in a restaurant setting, he fired energy bolts from his hands and destroyed the jukebox.

‘Defective’ Marty Pratt: We can ask them to turn off the jukebox.

Ultratron-6.1: It’s not the jukebox.

‘Defective’ Marty Pratt: Oh.

David Litterman: We can tell Sunny O’Callahan she’s fired?

‘New Age Cybertronic Criminally Insane Rogue Sentient Robot Wrestling Machine’ shakes his head no.

Litterman snaps his fingers since he’s wrong.

Ultratron-6.1: While Ultratron is sure that Sunny O’Callahan is not the best manager ever or the greatest mind in wrestling history she presents herself to be, she is not the target of my ire at the moment.

Pratt looks down at the Murder Hornets and Hawaii Five-One-Five-O.

The Murder Hornets are destroying a large Five Meat pizza loaded with five types of delicious meats, making it the king of meat pizzas. Pepperoni, sausage, bacon, ham, and beef work together in perfect pizza harmony.

Both Murder Hornets in Unison: Mmmmm… perfect pizza harmony.

Hawaii Five-One-Five-O tear through five baskets of wings- both the bone-in traditional buffalo wings and the oven-baked all-white-meat nuggets. Every single delicious sauce on the menu dotted the table near the baskets including: hot buffalo, smoky BBQ, sweet chili, plus ranch and blue cheese dressing.

Hawaii Five-One-Five-O in Unison: *STEREO BURPS*

The kids at the birthday at the next table all giggle and laugh at the thundering belch.

Ultratron-6.1: No.

‘The ‘New Age Cybertronic Criminally Insane Rogue Sentient Robot Wrestling Machine’ rises from his chair.

‘Defective’ Marty Pratt: Oh, oh.

Ultratron-6.1: Bo Stevens.  Do you see the irony of it all?  The Stevens…

Ultratron-6.1 laughs and spits out in an openly mocking tone.

Ultratron-6.1: Dynasty?  The inevitability? Bo Stevens rises, only to fall and FAIL. You, Bo Stevens, you are my meteor.  You are the anchor pulling Ultratron 6.1 down.  You and Gary Stevens will learn soon that my swift and terrible sword with come down on you and the Stevens Dynasty will crack with the weight of your abject failure. When the dust settles this Sunday night, the winner, who do you think the lone person standing in the ring with their arms raised in victory is going to be?  Will it be Bo Stevens?  How about Steve Harrison?  Chris Kostoff?

Now he jumps on top of the chair and gets going…

Ultratron-6.1: YOU FOOLS!  DO YOU REALIZE IN WHO WILL BE STANDING ALONE IN THE RING ON SUNDAY NIGHT?  OF COURSE YOU CAN’T ANSWER.

…and the birthday party comes to a screeching halt.  All eyes now stare at  ‘The ‘New Age Cybertronic Criminally Insane Rogue Sentient Robot Wrestling Machine.’

Ultratron-6.1: THE CHILLING GLEAM COMING FROM MY EYES SHOULD TELL YOU ALL.  *I*, ULTRATRON-6.1 WILL BE THE ONLY LIVING BEING IN THE RING ON SUNDAY NIGHT!  STEVE HARRISON?  YOU’RE NOTHING IN COMPARISON TO THE RAW POWER OF THE NEW AGE CYBERTRONIC CRIMINALLY INSANE ROUGE SENTIENT ROBOT WRESTLING MACHINE!  CHRIS KOSTOFF?  PISH!

Ultratron-6.1 puts one foot on the table.

Ultratron-6.1:  YOU’RE NOTHING.   A WORM.  A MERE FLEA.  AN INFECTION FOR WHICH THERE IS ONLY ONE CURE!

Pausing for maximum dramatic effect, Ultratron-6-1 prepares to deliver the coup de grace of his grand peroration.  He raises his hand and points a finger at nothing in particular but to make a grand gesture.

Ultratron-6.1: THE RAGE OF ULTRATR-

Voice: Hello boys and girls, let’s have some fun tonight!

The curtain on stage pulls back and for reasons we will never know, Ultratron- mouth wide open- at the climax of his diatribe, is interrupted by the band of animatronic animals on stage that’s suddenly come to life.

Dog Playing Guitar: Hi boys and girls.  I’m Jasper P. Giles!  Chuck E.’s best-

*KA-BLAM!*

And Jasper is destroyed by two laser blasts from Ultratron-6.1’s hands.

*KA-BLAM!*

Helen the singing duck explodes next.

*KA-BLAM!*

Munch the… well hell, I have no idea what the hell Munch is supposed to be other than he played the keyboards and looks like a giant purple dish mop… he gets blown apart by Ultratron-6.1’s bolts of energy.

*KA-BLAM!*

And finally, Pasqually the drummer is blown into little tiny bits.

With the ruins of the smoldering husks from what’s left of the four animatronic slowly disintegrating before their eyes, the kids at the adjacent table look at the spectacle with mouths wide open.

Their parents are appropriately horrified at what they’ve just witnessed.  Oh the children!

Then…

Boy: NEATO!

Incredulously, the parents’ head’s turn towards the child who doesn’t appear the least bit traumatized by witnessing the complete destruction of four beloved animatronics before their very eyes.

Boy: THAT WAS AWESOME!

That appears to loosen up the other children and they start cheering.

Another Boy: THAT WAS GREAT!

Girl: BEST BIRTHDAY PARTY EVER!

Looking over at the children, Ultratron-6.1 doesn’t quite know what to think.

Unfortunately, the manager of the Chuck E. Cheese did know what to think.  A quick 9-1-1 call and five minute later a squad of policemen swarm the table.

The kids were sad.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO1

Ultratron-6.1 and the rest of the K.R.A.P. then find themselves bundled into a police van and headed towards downtown Ellsville and presumably incarceration for the night.

Thursday February 24th, 2022 – Missouri Valley Wrestling’s Lock and Loaded
The first televised show of the night saw Ultratron-6.1 wrestling the aptly named Average Joe- not to be confused with ‘Ordinary’ Joe Bergman.  Two different people.  Joe Bergman has hair.  Average Joe does not.

After weeks of floundering results, Ultratron-6.1 stomped down the ramp inside the Charles Koch Center in Wichita, Kansas in an ill-mannered frame of mind and simply obliterated poor Average Joe in less than three minutes.

(Average Joe vs. Ultratron-6.1)
…Average Joe gets back to his feet.  He tries to clear the cobwebs but Ultratron-6.1 has other ideas.  He attacks.  Right hand to the stomach.  Fireman’s carry.  He swings Average Joe around and spikes him face first to the mat.

Thunderbolt Smith: THE DISINTEGRATOR! 

Ultratron-6.1 hooks the legs.  Referee Ron Martin drops down. 

ONE…

TWO…

‘The New Age Cybertronic Criminally Insane Rogue Sentient Robot Wrestling Machine’ pulls Average Joe up by the hair just as Martin’s hand hits the mat for a third time.

Thunderbolt Smith: ULTRATRON-6.1 PULLS HIM UP!  

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!  

Ultratron-6.1 turns and flips off the crowd in each section of the arena.  Then he gets Average Joe up in a Fireman’s Carry again.  He swings out Average Joe again and spikes him a second time.

Thunderbolt Smith: ANOTHER DISINTEGRATOR! 

This time, Ultratron-6.1 just puts his foot on Average Joe’s chest.

ONE…

TWO…

THREE!

After ring announcer Heather Cooper makes the final announcement, Ron Martin tries to raise Ultratron-6.1’s arm in victory.  That doesn’t happen.

‘The New Age Cybertronic Criminally Insane Rogue Sentient Robot Wrestling Machine’ pushes him to the side and rolls out of the ring.  He passes by Sunny in a huff without comment and returns to the back.

HOTv camera get a close up on Sunny.  For the first time since she arrived in HOW last January, Sunny looks vulnerable.  She looks up at the rafters and draws in a deep breath.  ‘Defective’ Marty Pratt puts his hand on her shoulder.  Surprisingly, Sunny doesn’t react in a harsh manner.  She just nods at Marty and starts up the ramp to the back.

Sunny O’Callahan (muttering to herself): We’ve got to win Sunday… we’ve got to win Sunday.