The cameras start rolling as the GCW logo flashes onto the screen afront a sold black background. The black background becomes gradually more transparent, until finally fading into a shot of a the Oklahoma city crowd. A heavy guitar riff screams throughout the arena as "Wake Up" by Rage Against the Machine blares over the PA system. The fans roar as the song is complimented by a spectacle of exploding silver and blue pyrotechnics.
Bryan: Only two weeks away from the biggest pay-per-view of the year, we welcome you to Global Championship Wrestling Worldwide! My name is James Bryan and I'm joined by the always controversial David Yale. And David, what a show we have lined up tonight!
Yale: I like the introduction, JB. Nothing beats a bit of controversy! And nothing quite spells controversy than our main event tonight.
Bryan: That's right, David. Tonight we're going to see, for the first time, Zacharia Taylor take on the number one contender for the World Championship Title, LeStatt Knight!
Yale: There was once a point in time where Zacharia Taylor went to LeStatt Knight for guidance, but tonight that alliance is straight out the window. However, one has got to wonder about all the variables playing into that match.
Bryan: With Knight getting one over on Jordan White the last several weeks, you have to assume he's going to be looking for his own revenge. And then there's always the Garbage Bag Johnny element.
Yale: Johnny and Taylor have been really pushing each other to new heights as of late, but I don't think GBJ is the one to worry about in the main event as he'll have his hands full with Dan Black for the United States Championship earlier on.
Bryan: The latest leader of The Movement, Dan Black, finally gets his opportunity to climb through the ranks as he battles Garbage Bag Johnny for the US Title belt in an effort to not only end GBJ's streak, but to become the first dual title holder!
Yale: This could very well be the boost that The Movement needs to get back on their feet since parting ways with Chris Bagwell.
Bryan: And what about Tyson DeBough teaming up with ANOTHER unannounced partner, this week to go against arguably the greatest former Tag Team Champions of all time, Banned & Exiled~!
Yale: Where I normally am a big supporter of Tyson, I've got to think his chances are wearing thin. He really needs to get his act together if he ever plans on getting out of this losing streak.
Bryan: It's certainly going to be one monumental night as we gear up for NC-17!
Yale: Stay with us!
Bryan: Joey Andrews looks to be getting ready to take his place in the ring to call the first contest.
Yale: I feel almost like its become a staple that we open the shows with a tag team match.
Bryan: That's a great sign for the tag team division, considering how lacking we've been of competitive teams over the last year.
"BREATHE!"
Yale: I think Andrews might have just been put on hold!
Bryan: Oh no. We barely even started the broadcast and we're going to be plagued with Chris Bagwell already?
Yale: That should be considered an honor, JB.
Bryan: An honor? It's one of the biggest annoyances in my professional career.
"Breathe" by Mike Hardy blares throughout the arena as Chris Bagwell steps out on stage in a pair of dark blue jeans and a black sport jacket. He's welcomed with a chorus of boo's. He marches down the ramp towards the ring with a look of pure aggravation on his face.
Yale: I don't think Chris is particularly happy right now.
Bryan: He's always got a chip on his shoulder.
As Bagwell makes it halfway down the ramp, his music gets overwhelmed with static. And when it fades back in..
Bryan: HA-HA! WOULD YOU LISTEN TO THIS!
Yale: What's going on!? Somebody has to get this fixed!
Bagwell whips his head back and forth, completely flustered. He races down to the ring and dives into the ring under the bottom rope.
Bagwell: GET THIS OFF! GET THIS OFF RIGHT NOW!
Yale: Listen to him! Get it off.
The music continues to play for about another fifteen seconds before finally fading out.
Bryan: Chris Bagwell just got Rick Roll'd!
Yale: I can't imagine who'd even do such a thing like that. They're nuts! Do they want to end up like you, JB?
Bagwell paces back and forth in the ring, trying to collect himself before continuing. The fact that the entire audience is still in laughter doesn't help ease his nerves.
Bagwell: I don't know what in the hell is going on backstage in the sound truck, but someone needs to get fired for pulling whatever that crap just was.
Yale: Fired! Lose their job!
Bagwell: Now the reason I came out here tonight is to address a number of things. First off, I want to address the World Championship Title match that took place last week.
Bryan: How did I know this was going to come up.
Yale: Chris Bagwell should've gotten that shot, not Digital Mortality. President Caldera specifically said that a LEGIT contender would get the shot -- not some chump.
Bagwell: I think...
Bagwell's voice comes out distorted.
Bagwell: Ahem... I think.
And again, it comes out distorted.
Bagwell: Digital Mortality had no business being in the main event last.
Yale: What the heck is going on!?
Bryan: It sounds like Chris Bagwell is having issues with his voice.
Bagwell: Hey buddy -- get me another microphone. This one isn't working..
Bagwell tosses his microphone to Andrews, who gives Chris back the one in his hand.
Yale: Let's hope this one works better.
Bryan: Oh yeah, my fingers are crossed.
Bagwell: Now..now..NOW as I was saying...
Bryan: HA!
Yale: Not another one!!!
Bagwell: ALRIGHT, WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE!?
Bryan: I think I even heard Rick Astley in the background of Bagwell's voice!
Bagwell slaps the microphone against his hand a few times.
Bagwell: WOULD SOMEBODY GET BACK INTO THAT GOD DAMN SOUND TRUCK AND DO SOMETHING ABOUT THIS...OR I WILL!
Bryan: Keep it going. Please, for the love of God. I'm getting such a kick from this.
Yale: You would, JB. Just wait until he goes back there and somebody gets hurt. Then you'll understand.
All of a sudden, an image of inside the sound truck in the parking lot comes up on the MegaTron.
Yale: It must be the perpetrator!
The camera focuses in on a leather reclining chair. The black leather chair spins around to reveal the one and only Fearless Phenom, wearing a smile from one ear to the other.
Vivica J. Valentine: Hey Chris! You don't seem to sound yourself today. Everything alright?
Bagwell's eyes light up as he gleams up at the MegaTron.
Valentine: It's alright, you don't need to speak. I wouldn't want you to embarrass yourself any more than you already have.
Yale: I knew it had to be someone like Vivica J. Valentine behind all this. She doesn't know what she's getting herself into, JB.
Bryan: I think she knows exactly what she's getting herself into. She's been the only one since Chris Bagwell has gotten here to be able to put a muzzle on his mouth. She's cutting him off from the one thing he loves more than anything else!
Yale: And what, exactly, might that be?
Bryan: Hearing himself talk!
Valentine: I must say though, Chris, I do love your new entrance music. Something about Rick Astley seems to suit you well.
Bagwell raises the microphone to his lips.
Valentine: Uh uh. I wouldn't do that!
Chris Bagwell begins shaking uncontrollably in the ring. His blood is boiling and his head is full of steam.
Bagwell: VALENTINE... YOU'VE BUSTED... MY LAST... NERVE!!
He drops the microphone to the canvas and climbs out of the ring. Chris Bagwell storms up the stage as the fans break out, once again, in song.
"Na, na, na, na!
Na, na, na, na!
HEY HEY HEY!
GOOD - BYE!
Na, na, na, na!
Na, na, na, na!
HEY HEY HEY!
GOOD - BYE!"
Yale: Oh no, not again!!
Valentine: Na, na, na, na. Na, na, na, na. Hey, hey, hey. GOOD-BYEEEEEE!
Bryan: Vivica J. Valentine is singing along with the crowd.
Yale: Singing along? SHE'S LEADING THEM.
Bagwell continues through the curtain as the fans roar. "Image of the Invisible" blares throughout the arena and Vivica J. Valentine gives a wink and a waive to the fans before her image fades from the MegaTron.
Bryan: Well what a way to start the night. Vivica J. Valentine has been working her way under the skin of Chris Bagwell and he looks like he's about ready to finally explode.
Yale: I don't understand how you can actually be taking joy in any of this, JB. Chris Bagwell was coming out here to please his case and Vivica J. Valentine just made an absolute mockery of him.
Bryan: Would you listen to this crowd, David? I'm obviously not the only one who loved every second of it!
The hallway is passing by rapidly, the scene never focusing in, never pausing, until a door is pushed open, until LeStatt Knight is captured in the center of the frame, sitting quietly in his locker room. He turns to face the camera, eying its owner up and down. A moment passes, uneasy, before he deigns to speak.
Knight: They really need locks on these doors.
There's a laugh from the camera woman, quickly muffled.
Camera woman: Jordan's on the way.
Knight leans back against the chair, resting a forearm like a club across the table next to him. His head dips. He sneers as Jordan steps into frame, his back to the camera.
White: So you got me last week. That was smooth, man; that was fuckin' smooth.
He's covering distance as he talks, storming into Knight's locker room, leaning in over the table and supporting himself against it. His words are paced, he maintains a cadence military.
White: Think you're in my head, yet? Think you got under my skin?
Knight: Listen here, boy, I don't need to think anything. Have you looked at yourself today?
Knight leans back further and smiles to himself.
Knight: I couldn't be any more under your skin if I were a tick.
White is snarling, teeth bared, eyes wide.
White: You're right, El. An' the only way I'm gettin' rid of you is to do somethin' about that--you got your weeks in, you got your sneak attacks and all your bullshit done, and you haven't begun to break me. It's my turn, dig?
He leans further, cuts the distance between himself and Knight.
White: I'm lettin' you know, I'm tellin' you this, because I ain't somethin' you can avoid. Tonight, El. I'm comin' after you as soon as your little match is up, an' I'm gettin' mine--you ain't a train. You ain't even a barricade.
LeStatt pushes himself off of the chair and stands straight up, this way he towers over Jordan and not the other way around.
Knight: Oh NOW you want to take matters into your own hands? NOW you want to strike me? I gave you the perfect opportunity last week and you blew it. If you really have the guts to come out there tonight and face me I hope you understand that I am not giving you a freebie this time. I will bury you in that ring tonight right next to Zachariah Taylor.
Jordan White is nodding without blinking, his brown eyes rolling upwards to lock with Knight's blue.
White: Yeah? That would've scared me, man, really. That would've maybe kept me backstage a week or two ago. But now, now I'm seein' that, that maybe, you just can't break me before NC-17. And if it's comin' down like that? Fuck yeah, I wanna take matters into my own hands.
His face twists, contorts a wild grin from the sneer.
White: You're just a man, El. Under all that mystique, under all that, shit, that sturm and drang, you're just another wrestler. You don't scare me; not now, not anymore.
Knight takes a half step back, he looks Jordan up and down quickly before cocking his head to the side, obviously trying to read the situation. When things appear to settle for him he smirks and continues.
Knight: You're right Jordan, completely. I am just a man. I don't have any super powers, I'm not some unstoppable killing machine from a horror movie. I don't have fangs or super strength. I am not the devil's spawn, even if some may like to claim that I am.
LeStatt takes that half step forward that he lost earlier.
Knight: I'm a MAN. I'm a wrestler. But that is the point isn't it? When a MAN can do the things that I do, that is true power. I don't need you to fear me because I can bring the apocalypse. Jordan, you'll fear me because of what this WRESTLER is capable of doing inside of that ring. So do what you feel you have to... I'm still going to bury you.
White is motionless, is hunched still over the table. His glare covers the space between them and, for a moment, there is only silence.
White: You're a legend, El; you're a presence an' you're a force, but, yeah, you're right. The only place where it matters what you are is the ring. I lost sight of that, somewhere between the stature an' the gravity. You had a heads up on me--now you don't. And, to be frank.
He stifles a laugh. He has a taste for bad puns, apparently.
White: What you can do in that ring? It ain't what I can do.
He smirks, finally. His arms loosen and he stands, straightens himself up.
White: I wouldn't even bother sayin' that shit about buryin' me again, El. We're past the point of me believin' it.
Knight: Fine Boy, you want to play the tough guy role. You want to be the one who defiantly stood up to the Big, Bad Villain and said 'ENOUGH IS ENOUGH!'. Very well, consider your approach understood. You aren't afraid of me. Duly noted. You're coming after me. CHECK!
LeStatt folds his arms across his chest and smirks ever so slightly. Not enough to be considered a real smile/smirk BUT enough to highly piss someone off for making it seem like he isn't taking you serious.
Knight: Just remember to bring your mask and cape Jordan because that's what all heroes need right?
White: Ain't stood for shit in my life, man. Don't think I'ma break the habit jus' for you.
He breathes in deep and he shifts to a practiced smile, a calm return.
White: That, that villain bullshit; that's what I'm talkin' about. I don't buy it, I'm done buyin' it--I'm done lettin' you play it. But laugh, yeah. Laugh your ass off, man. Show everybody what kinda hero I am.
Knight: I've never TRIED to be the Villain of the story Jordan. It's just the way it is. You seem like you want to be finished with the small talk and the mind games, yet here you are still trading barbs with me. Seems to me like you'd want action, not words. So why haven't you done anything yet?
LeStatt shrugs his shoulders for a mock questioning.
Knight: Maybe it's because you know better. It is much easier to SAY that you aren't afraid and that you'll prove it than it is to actually DO it. Either way Hero, I'm a busy man. So what I suggest is that you either throw down now or get the hell out of here and be prepared to enjoy me dissect Taylor. Your call.
White: I find it disarming, this bantering thing we do. It makes people like you see weaknesses that I'm playing up and miss the ones that matter; it's like sleight of hand, you know? Just ask Jay.
And he smiles, pure, and sincere.
White: There's enough games for everybody to play something.
LeStatt's eyes narrow, obviously irritated.
Knight: I think it's time for you to go.
Jordan leans backwards, falling into the first few steps towards the door. He tilts his head a slight angle and raises his eyebrows to Knight; he is gone with that, rushing the camera operator into the hallway as he shuts the door behind him, cutting from a close-up of the number one contender's name to the commentators at ringside.
Yale: Jordan White has serious mental issues, JB. That's all I can say. Schizotypal personality disorders.
Bryan: Something has definitely snapped in this young man's head, Yale. He's had almost no rest since he won that belt--LeStatt Knight has made sure of that--but he's far from crazy. He played defensively and it didn't work, and now he has to try something different if he wants to even make it to NC-17 in one piece.
Yale: And what, pray tell, does he gain by giving a human oddity like LeStatt a warning like that?
Bryan: I can't pretend to understand what Jordan White's thinking, now or ever, but I don't think LeStatt Knight does either. And that, Yale, gives Jordan a definite advantage--in a weird way that is his and his alone.
Yale: Look. If I wanted psychopaths rambling, I'd turn to GBJ. I don't, so I don't. Let Jordan do whatever he wants--LeStatt Knight took him down in that ring last time around, and he'll do it again.
Bryan: If Jordan truly isn't scared of Knight, then they're on a far more level playing field than you'll ever give them credit for. He's already got one victory over Knight, and there aren't very many wrestlers as naturally skilled as Jordan White--he's surprised us before.
Yale: That's what I'm talking about. Where's the element of surprise? He doesn't have to wrestle tonight, LeStatt does. Why not just jump him from behind on his way out of the ring? Hell. Why let him have time to get out of the ring?
Bryan: He's wanted to go toe-to-toe with LeStatt since the match got booked, and he's making sure it happens tonight in Oklahoma City. LeStatt brought this fight to the ring, and Jordan White has taken it personally.
Yale: Oh no, he broke the sacred confines of the squared circle. Whatever will we do? Look, JB, I respect you, for whatever reason, but don't build Jordan up like that. He's said it himself: he's not a hero, he's not a good guy. He's proven it time and time again, and he still walks into LeStatt's locker room like he's supposed to save us all from this great evil? Come on. They're wrestlers, JB.
Bryan: They're never just wrestlers, Yale. These men are titans, these men are warriors; what they do is, to borrow a phrase, human drama writ large. Their battles are iconic, are definite; and Jordan's been forced into playing a role by LeStatt, whether Knight will agree with the exact semantics of the situation.
Yale: What you're saying is that, were the situation reversed, you'd be cheering Knight?
Bryan: In this entirely hypothetical situation? Yes, I would. If Jordan were a complete monster, if Jordan were completely devoid of any concern for the wellbeing of his fellow wrestlers, I'd be cheering Knight on the whole way. If you want to break it down: yes, Jordan White is the lesser of two evils. Except, to cut you off, he's not evil. He's a man and he's willing to face down demons--he may not consider himself a hero, but he's miles away from being a treacherous backstabber.
Yale: He doesn't have the spark of a true champion, basically, is what you're saying?
Bryan: We'll be right back, folks, after a word from our sponsors.
Due to Technical Difficulties, this match was unable to air in its entirety on X:TV. Please stay tuned as our staff is working overtime this holiday season to make this match available for your viewing pleasure.
The camera comes to focus on Bryan and Yale. Yale slides a piece of paper to the top of the pile in front of him and clears his throat.
Yale: I can’t believe that in two weeks we will be in Phoenix, Arizona for the most amazing Pay-Per-View of the year.
Bryan: We have so many great matches lined up, and the one I’m really stoked for is the . . . what timing!
The opening bass guitar madness of "Garbage Bag Johnny Zero 2 Hero" by Garbage Bag Johnny starts to play over the PA system, and the United States Champion walks down the ramp, but not in his usual manner.
Bryan: Would it be safe to say that there is something different about Johnny?
Yale: Not high?
Bryan: Well, probably not, but what could he possibly be doing in the ring, alone?
Garbage Bag Johnny climbs into the center of the ring and stands still until the music cuts out and the crowd starts to settle down. GBJ lifts his hands from his side, with a microphone in one hand and the U.S. Title in the other.
GBJ: Ever since I won this coveted shiny waistband, it seems I've attracted some unwanted attention. Most notably, there's this guy who keeps following me around, hiding behind corners, jumping out of cans, and last week I said he could fight me for this sweet buckle if his creepy ass stopped following me around, but because of him, I was beaten and trapped in a cabinet for hours.
The crowd is mixed with chatter all over the arena. After a few moments it quiets down.
GBJ: And since that turd salesman didn't hold up his end of the bargain, I ain't holding up mine. The match is off.
The crowd grows so loud that GBJ is cut off in his speech.
Bryan: What?
Yale: How could this be?
Bryan: One of the most anticipated matches of NC-17 is being canceled?
The crowd’s reaction is the same as the commentators. GBJ looks around, slightly upset, but also assertive of the situation.
Yale: I hope that Taylor’s watching this, because I can’t imagine if . . .
"Lord Give Me a Sign" by DMX comes over the PA system as Zacharia Taylor walks out onto the ramp. Taylor stops at the top of the ramp and stares down into the ring, piercing holes through Garbage Bag Johnny. The crowd is mixed with boos and cheers like usual. Taylor raises his microphone to his mouth but nothing comes out.
GBJ: Unless you traveled through time to untrap me in a cabinet, save it. We made a deal, and you broke it.
Taylor: . . . For your protection. We established the match, and McKail tries to take the belt from you before I get the chance.
GBJ: You followed me. You stalked me through the hall. You attacked me and left me locked up in a box.
Taylor: If you cancel this match, you will be a bitch! You know that you won’t be able to get rid of me. I will make . . .
GBJ: Is that all you got? You think I've got an ego to defend? The only thing I have to defend is this decorative waistband, and I'm sure you're not the only one that wants it.
Taylor walks down the ramp and climbs into the ring, facing Garbage Bag Johnny, face to face. Both men look extremely tense.
Taylor starts to smirk that devilish look of his.
Taylor: I promise you this, Johnny, if you deny me this match, you will absolutely regret it. I will be on you more than before, I will be behind you, no matter where you are. I promise you, you won’t be able to turn around without me being there, and I’m not just saying under the protection of GCW’s walls.
GBJ looks into his eyes. By the look on his face, he knows Taylor’s not kidding.
GBJ: Eh, if I ignore you . . . and then get really drunk . . . you'll go away.
Taylor: I will cut you a deal…
GBJ: You had your deal.
Taylor: Fair is fair, Johnny. You can do anything you want to me, fair game. I won’t bother you at all. I won’t go near you. Keep the match, and I will give you a free go at me. I won’t follow you, and you have to do it by surprise. I don’t want to know where you are. You can do it whenever you want, as long as it’s before NC-17.
GBJ: You're on. But if I catch you even thinking about me after I hit you back, the match is back off. No retaliations, no surprises, no contact.
Taylor: None. I want you to feel the rush of stalking someone, of planning out something that the other has no idea. Be creative, be violent . . .
GBJ smiles with a sadistic smirk, one to match that of Taylor’s. Johnny nods, and goes to put his mic to his face, but Taylor drops his to the ground and turns around. He walks over to the ropes and turns around right before he walks out.
Taylor: [very faintly heard through Johnny's mic] Don’t disappoint me!
Taylor walks up the ramp and out of sight.
GBJ: I won’t…
Bryan: Well, it looks like we still have a match, but possibly a sneak peek over the next two weeks into these two.
Yale: I wouldn’t put it past Johnny to attack Taylor next week before . . .
Bryan: Before what, David? I wouldn’t put it past GBJ to turn around right now to take him out, and I wouldn't blame him either.
Yale: Johnny wants to make Taylor pay for last week. He will think of something big, something to really get back at Taylor for the past couple weeks.
GBJ walks out of the ring and up the ramp.
Bryan: Either way, at least Johnny and Taylor aren’t finished.
Yale: You’re right, JB.
There was a certain stench in the air. But it wasn't the usual kind that Clyde Fox was accustomed to producing. Coming off the heels of one of his biggest wins ever, Fox was dancing around backstage in utter arrogance. But that wasn't the only thing in the air... love was surely swirling, and it is heading for Tessa Windsor. Fox glides down the hallways like a child who just bought a candy gram for his crush. Fox passionately pulls up to Windsor's room for yet another attempt to steal her heart. He knocks on the door and waits patiently.
Fox: Tessie? Tessie, you there? We have something to talk about... BIG TIME!
The reaction from Tessa was quite the usual. There was the eye roll, the annoyed sigh, and then the lingering question of how she was going to deal with Clyde today. Luckily for Clyde, for whatever reason, Tessa Windsor was in a decent mood this evening. She casually strolled across her locker room and opened her door more than a crack.
Windsor: Yes Clyde?
Fox: Heto Tessie. I see yooooou.
Fox waves gently and smirks like a kid in line at McDonalds. He's got a huge idea in that head of his, even bigger than what grows beneath his pants.
Fox: I had an idea my sweet Tessie. Seeing that I disposed of your old boyfriend last week, I figure that it's time you have me as a boyfriend!
Fox spreads his hands out as if showcasing himself.
Tessa steps back behind the door for a second so that snarl that creeps across her face is well hidden. It pissed her off to no end that Chris hardly performed up to his usual par last week, and for that she now had to deal with Clyde yet again. She steps back out from behind the door with a forced smile.
Windsor: Aww, that’s so sweet of you. I really don’t think I’m ready to date again though Clyde, but thanks for asking.
Dejected, Clyde steps backwards to compose himself. With a look on his face like "What do I have to do to get in her pants?" Fox regroups.
Fox: Listen Tessie, you don't understand. I earned it when I beatered your old boyfriend. I deserve a chance! At least let me take you on a date!
Tessa scrambles to think of another excuse and pops out the first thing that comes to mind.
Windsor: I just can’t Clyde. I’m far too busy.
Yale: Fox is relentless... I don't think Tessa is prepared for Clyde's bombardment.
Fox: Tessie. I've been waiting. Waiting alone on those cold nights. Alone... with my left hand. It's been keeping me warm during those nights Tessie. And for what reason? I mean we have chemistry. We each felt something that night during Dangerous Games. I'm trying to grow up otay. But when you push me away, I can't help but revert back to my childish habits.
Fox takes a deep breath and continues his elongated speech.
Fox: If you think you're too feisty for me, I assure you that's not the case. I like it rough and I think you do too. C'mon... put that wall down and let the Foxster take you out for a night you'll never forget.
Talk about way too much info. Had Tessa not sworn to herself she was going to keep her temper calm, cool, and collected, she would have lost it by now. Then again, she already lost it long ago and that proved little good. So, rather than go with her instinct and completely rip Clyde a new one, she bit her bottom lip and ran down her mile long list of excuses for the next best one.
Windsor: No no, Clyde. That’s not it at all. I’m just…..uhhh….
She scanned her mental list for anything that could complete that sentence.
Windsor: ….uhh….a virgin. Yes, I’m a virgin! I’m totally clean. And well I don’t think I could give you the kind of relationship you would like. So no, I can’t date you. I’d just hate to disappoint you.
Fox: No way!
Fox slaps his hands on his face in pure shock.
Fox: So am I! See! We are like so similar! It's so weird... we could be like brother and sister! A sister that I wanna get naughty with. But... I know that's not what you want, and I plan to deliver. I pwomise; if you go on a date with me tonight, I'll be the best virgin-dating gentleman in existence.
Talk about kicking yourself in the ass. Tessa did more than that. She kicked her own ass and rolled it down the levee into the river. Now how was she going to get out of this?
Windsor: Well….uhhh…..fine. I guess we can go on a date.
God was she ever cursing herself inside her mind.
Windsor: But it can’t be for too long…. I have…a uh…. curfew. Yeah. A curfew. I need to be home by midnight or bad things happen. Like in Cinderalla.
Fox smiles angelically.
Fox: How strange. Me too. My curfew is at midnight as well! My Mommy gets scared when I'm not in bed by then. But yesh. I will let you slip into something a little more comfortable and I'll swing by later to pick you up.
Fox winks in a weird, creeper sort of way before rushing off.
Yale: Is he serious JB? Did Clyde Fox just score a date with Tessa Windsor!?
Bryan: I believe so... what else could happen tonight?
"Dude."
Terror walks into the Establishment's suite, where Tyson DeBough is sitting and watching the show. DeBough turns around at his partners voice.
DeBough: Yea man?
Jay Terror: A-Game tonight, right?
Tyson rolls his eyes.
DeBough: I got it covered man.
Jay Terror: I hope so. You sure this guy's going to bring us to the level we need to be, yeah?
Tyson's eyes narrow.
DeBough: I said I've got it covered.
He almost spat the words.
DeBough: You just watch the match tonight, and see what you think.
Jay throws his hands up in defense.
Jay Terror: Ok, solid. Just looking in on things. We've got an appearance to uphold and that means keeping our guys high in the clouds. I can't take another loss, we've suffered enough up to this point.
DeBough: I got ya man. No worries.
Terror turns and heads towards the door.
Jay Terror: Perfect. Kick some ass and take some names out there.
DeBough: Thanks man.
Tyson turns back to the television and pulls out his phone, hitting send, and waiting for someone to pick up. The voicemail kicks in, and Tyson presses end without leaving a message. He clenches his phone in his hand tightly,
"I'm so f**ked."
Bryan: Next up, ladies and gentlemen, we have an odd pairing as Face and AXEL Action will square off in single's competition.
Yale: Odd? JB, this is just wrong. These two shouldn't be fighting, they should be teaming up to take down the Ambrosi's and McKail's of GCW!
Bryan: These two men certainly have problems with a good deal of the GCW roster, including Brad Jackson and Tyson DeBough. One would assume that is why they are facing each other tonight.
Yale: Well, when you put it that way, you can't really argue with The Establishment's reasoning, can you JB?
Darkness consumes the arena as a telling song begins to play: "Master of Puppets" by Metallica. As the opening chords play through, the sickening, twisted, chilling sound of a laugh that can only belong to one man reverberates throughout the arena. Various strobe lights and spotlights throughout the arena shine and blink around the crowd in many shades of red, blue and white. The crowd’s anticipation builds as the opening instrumental of the song begins to wind down.
As soon as the lyrics kick in, the spotlights and strobe lights invert in colour, making wherever they shine look strangely inverted as well. At this time, Face comes out from the back, a lighter in his hand that he constantly flicks on and off. He stops center stage and crouches down, his arms up on his knees, which are nearly at the height of his head in this position. He surveys the crowd through his ‘sightless’ eyes, whoever he sees either trying not to be noticed or flinching away. After a few moments of simply surveying the crowd, Face gets up and starts walking down the entrance ramp, towards the ring, continuing to flick his lighter on and off like clockwork. Every once and a while he suddenly stops in his place and turns to face a particular nearby fan, his permanent smile not reassuring in the slightest to whomever he faces.
The song begins to slowly die out as Face reaches the ring. He stalks along the ropes, staring down at his feet and not really paying attention to the inside of the ring or showing any intent on entering it. However, he soon has a change of heart, it seems, as he suddenly lifts the top rope and swings under in, snapping to attention once inside. The song dies out completely. The lights come back on. Face tosses his lighter to the ref and surveys the crowd, his facial expression unchanging – because it can’t.
Andrews: The following match is for one fall! Introducing first, from parts unknown... He weighs in at two hundred and thirteen pounds, standing six feet two inches tall.... FACE!!!
The opening drum solo of "Perfect Insanity" by Disturbed hits as the outline of a man wearing a hooded cloak emerges to a rather large round of jeers and boos from the crowd. As the first strain of the opening guitar riff begins, he thrusts his arms out to the side and throws his head back in a crucifix pose as pillars of fire explode along the perimeter of the stage. In the light of the fire, the robe is shown to be black in color with intricate red designs with silver linings. He flips the hood back to reveal himself as none other than The Unholy One, himself, Axel Action. He saunters to the ring with a snarl upon his lips. With a purpose in his step, he climbs the ring steps and turns to face the crowd while standing on the apron, and gives one more crucifix pose to another round of boos, before entering the ring and removing his robe.
Andrews: And the opponent, from Hollywood, Florida... Weighing in at two hundred twenty five pounds, he stands six feet two inches tall.... AXEL ACTION!!!
DING DING!
Bryan: Both men are getting a piece of the crowd's mind right now.
Yale: At least I'm here to cheer for them JB.
Bryan: This should be an interesting match up. Both men are pretty evenly matched physically.
Yale: Don't forget JB, these two have met before. They both participated in a four way match at Worldwide's monumental 100th show a few weeks back, with AXEL allowing Phil Atken to win the match.
Face and Action circle each other, slowly advancing. AXEL raises one hand, looking to lock up for a test of strength. Face slowly raises a hand to meet his opponents, then unleashes a low kick to AXEL's thigh. Action immediately responds with a low kick of his own, the slap echoing through the arena. Again, Face delivers a kick to AXEL's thigh, and the crowd lets out an approving ooh. AXEL goes for another responsive low kick, but Face catches his leg. AXEL bounces on his leg, trying to balance for an enziguiri attempt, but Face refuses to wait and falls with a violent twist.
Bryan: Face violently wrenching the leg with that dragon screw.
Yale: I gotta say JB, I think Face has what it takes to pull the win out tonight.
Bryan: And right now it looks like he's going to continue attacking the legs of AXEL Action.
Face continues holding the leg of AXEL, and follows with a series of kicks into the thigh before rolling him over into a single leg Boston crab. AXEL's painted face contorts in pain as Face wrenches the hold, seeking some early damage on his opponent. Jenkins asks AXEL if he wants to quit, watching for the tap as Face digs his feet and pulls the hold even further back. Action refuses to quit, reaching towards the ropes.
Yale: Looks like I might be right already JB.
Bryan: Maybe Dave, but I think AXEL has more fight in him than that. He's trying to pull himself to the ropes to force Face to release the hold.
AXEL pulls himself towards the ropes, as Face tries to remain planted. AXEL reaches out again, fingers brushing the ropes... And Face releases the hold. Without wasting any time, Face grabs AXEL by the hair and lifts him to his feet. Grabbing hold of the arm, Face whips AXEL into the ropes. Swinging for the fences, Face barely misses a clothesline as AXEL ducks. Off balance, Face barely turns around in time to see the yakuza kick the knocks him off his feet. AXEL takes a moment, trying to shake off his leg before pressing the attack. AXEL pounces forward and quickly drops an elbow to the chest of Face.
Bryan: AXEL looks a step slower than normal now.
Yale: He's just being methodical JB, that's why AXEL's gonna win the match.
Bryan: Dave, you already said-
Yale: Look at the in ring action!
AXEL backs off, waiting for Face to rise to his knees, and runs in. Stepping on the leg of Face, AXEL drives past his head with a knee.
Yale: Shining Wizardah!
Bryan: I think our Japanese fans will appreciate your tribute to the puro announcers Dave.
AXEL crawls over to his fallen opponent and lays across Face. Hal Jenkins is down to make the count.
ONE!
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TWO!
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KICKOUT!
Bryan: Face able to kick out of that lackadaisical pin by AXEL Action.
Yale: Who'd want to see a match end with a Shining Wizard anyways?
AXEL pulls Face to his feet, and delivers a clubbering(~!) blow to the back of his opponent. Face strikes back with an elbow to the abdomen. And another! Elbows to the face of AXEL now, and Face spins... Rolling Elbow sends his opponent staggering back! Face off the ropes now, and goes low with a dropkick to AXEL's knee. Face back to his feet, and quickly sees an opening. Running forward, Face steps off AXEL's leg...
Yale: Shining Wizardah!
Bryan: No! AXEL ducks forward to avoid it!
Yale: Blackah Magicah!
Face snaps around, delivering a vicious kick to the back of AXEL's head.
Bryan: The crowd oddly quiet for this match.
Yale: They decide who they like more JB.
Bryan: In a roundabout way Dave, I think you're right.
Face drops down onto the back of AXEL, hooks the arm, and wrenches back into a fujiwara armbar! AXEL faces lights up as Face stretches his arm a chest. Referee Hal Jenkins once again asks AXEL if he'd like to quit, and receives an undesirable answer from The Unholy One. AXEL struggles against the hold, trying to tuck his arm back in. Face continues wrenching, and shifts his weight away from AXEL before shifting back into a bridge, further stretching the hold.
Bryan: Bridging fujiwara armbar by Face now, and he's just picking apart AXEL one body part at a time.
Yale: Of course he is JB, didn't I tell you at the start of the match the he'd win?
Bryan: That you did Dave, but-
Yale: Look at that!
AXEL gives one more burst, and wrenches his arm to his side, Face's hands still clutching onto him. With a push forward, AXEL tucks his head and rolls forward, positioning himself on Face's back.
Bryan: Fujiwara from AXEL now!
Instead of utilizing the hold for a submission attempts, AXEL pulls Face to his feet by the arm, and whips him to the corner. Face collides with the corner, but manages to throw his legs up and catch AXEL in the face as he rushes in. Face looks to Hal Jenkins, and points behind him. Hal falls for it, and Face grabs AXEL's throat and drives him to the ground, choking him violently. By the time Hal turns back around, Face his released the hold and begins firing away at AXEL Action. Blow after blow lands, and Face picks up the pace until he is a blur of motion, AXEL's head whipping off the mat repeatedly. Finally, Face stops long enough to cover for the pin.
ONE!
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TWO!
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KICKOUT!
Bryan: AXEL action barely able to kick out of that one, and Face looks to step up the intensity of this match.
Yale: You have to wonder if Lia's getting scared of him just watching this match JB.
Face quickly gets to his feet, and quickly delivers a series of soccer style kicks to the head of AXEL Action. AXEL tries to roll away, holding his head in pain, but Face grabs a handful of hair to stop him. Face pulls AXEL's head up, forcing him to a sitting position, then slams his head back to the mat. AXEL bounces back to a sitting position, eyes closed as he winces in pain, before his head a violently whip forward by a rolling neck snap from Face. AXEL rolls onto his stomach and grabs one of the ropes, trying to get to his feet to avoid the assault from Face, but Face refuses to let up and begins kicking at the arm and abdomen of The Unholy One. AXEL gets to his feet despite the attack from Face, and begins firing back! Back and forth they go, and AXEL gets the advantage! Punching away at his opponent, AXEL spins, going for his own rolling elbow, Face ducks! As AXEL spins around, Face wraps his arms around the neck, locking in the sleeper hold.
Bryan: Sleeper hold!
Yale: JB, hey, hey JB.
Bryan: What?
Yale: Watch this.
On cue, Face drives his legs, bridges back, and flips AXEL back in a sleeper suplex.
Bryan: He hasn't let go! Face has a bridged sleeper variation on AXEL Action!
Face rolls back, still holding the sleeper, and rolls to the side, trapping AXEL with a body lock. Face releases the choke, and strikes AXEL's head with a trifecta of downward elbows, before over-hooking the arms of The Unholy One. Once again, Face rolls, putting AXEL on his stomach, and flips forward to bridge the hold.
Yale: Conundrum! Conundrum!
Bryan: I think this may be it right here Dave!
AXEL shakes violently as he struggles to escape the painful submission, but without the use of his arms all he can do is flail. Face pulls tighter, wrenching AXEL's arms backwards as The Unholy One grits his teeth, shaking his head No as Jenkins checks on him. Desperately seeking an escape, AXEL tries twisting his body to the side, but can't stretch far enough for his legs to reach the ropes.
Bryan: Face has AXEL in perfect positioning, placing himself between AXEL and the nearest ropes.
Yale: I think AXEL should submit before he risks serious injury here JB. We've both seen Face cripple opponents in the ring before. I'd hate to see a member of The Movement retired tonight!
Face continues wrenching the submission, bouncing up and down to violently jerk AXEL's arms. AXEL tries lowering his hand, seeking a base on the mat, but can't reach it down. Face jerks the arms tighter again, and AXEL goes limp. Jenkins checks on him, and looks to call for the bell. AXEL springs into action and whips his body sideway, catching Face by surprising and hooking the ropes with his legs.
Bryan: Oh, oh wow. I don't know how much more these two can do Dave.
Yale: No kidding, this has been a surprisingly brutal match.
Bryan: Face back to his feet now, he's gotta be wondering what to do to put his opponent away.
Face grabs AXEL by the hair, pulling his drained opponent to his feet. Grabbing AXEL's arm, Face whips him into the corner and charges in, connecting with a clothesline that sends AXEL's head whipping back. As AXEL begins to stumble out of the corner, Face climbs to the second rope. Grabbing a handful of hair, Face pulls his opponent into a front facelock. Face jumps out of the corner, tornado DDT! Blocked by AXEL Action! Face winds up on his feet, and AXEL frees his head. As Face charges towards him, AXEL allows him to slip past and Face collides with the corner chest first. Getting a surge of adrenaline, AXEL runs in and drills Face with a clothesline. AXEL backs up as Face turns around, and runs back in. Stepping off of Face, AXEL backflips while kicking Face's face.
Bryan: The Unholy Trinity Dave!
Yale: Face! Get outta there!
AXEL runs back in one last time, but Face counters! AXEL runs into a boot from Face and staggers back. Face out of the corner now, and he delivers a haymaker right to AXEL Action. AXEL fires back, but Face catches the arm. Face leaps up while maintaining control of the arm...
Yale: INTO THE FLAMES!
Bryan: Face just leapt right into his signature submission! AXEL is struggling, trying to find a way out of this submission.
AXEL postures up and begins to try to lift Face for a powerbomb counter, but Face hooks the leg causing AXEL to fall lose his base. Using his free hand, AXEL tries punching at Face, but can't put any weight behind the punches to make them effective.
Bryan: I think AXEL may be slipping here. This choking maneuver of his is downright dangerous!
Yale: Nobody that's been put in this hold in GCW has escaped it JB, this match is done!
AXEL, quickly fading away, tries one last desperate gambit to escape the hold. With his free hand, he reaches down and pulls Face's head as close to his as possible, and spits.
Yale: UNHOLY MIST! UNHOLY MIST! JB HE MISTED FACE!
Bryan: Face's white mask is completely black from that mist. AXEL just spewed that mist right in the eyes of his opponent!
Yale: JB, it looks like AXEL is going to take advantage of the situation.
Face slackens the hold slightly, and AXEL is able to jerk his arm free of the submission. Scooping Face's legs, AXEL plants his feet and heaves... SLAMMING Face to the mat with a powerbomb! Both men are down in the ring.
Yale: Jenkins is giving the ten count.
Bryan: The first man to his feet will certainly have the advantage here. AXEL has to be trying to regain his bearings after that submission hold.
Yale: JB, he's already getting back to his feet!
Sure enough, AXEL pulls himself to his feet before Jenkins very slow count can even begin. Leaning against the ropes, AXEL sucks in air trying to catch his breath, watching Face from the corner of his eye. Face rolls to his stomach, crawling around blindly.
Bryan: Face can't even see! That mist blinded him!
Yale: Bad news for Face, good news for my pick to capitalize!
Face finds the corner, and pulls himself to his feet. Wiping at his eyes, Face's vision finally appears to clear.... YAKUZA KICK!
Bryan: AXEL finishes off that Unholy Trinity! Face looks like he got hit by a freight train!
Yale: That should help clear the cobwebs JB.
Face stumbles out of the corner, AXEL watches devilishly as Face walks right past him in a daze. AXEL waits... waits... Face turns around... Total Sacrilege! AXEL rolls over Face, hooking the leg.
ONE!
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TWO!
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THREE!
Bryan: AXEL Action wins this one by a hair Dave!
Yale: A true trooper JB, snatching victory from the jaws of defeat!
Andrews: Lades and gentlemen.... The Winner By Pinfall.... AXEL Action!
Bryan: Well it's official, AXEL Action victorious in single's competition tonight Dave. What a match!
Yale: No kidding JB, but I knew AXEL would find a way to walk out of here with another win.
Bryan: Dave, you picked the two of them throughout the match.
Yale: How do you expect me to choose between these two men JB? That's like asking me white, or wheat! Ketchup or mustard!
Bryan: Regardless, The Movement has to be happy picking up a win in this match, and I'm sure that Lia Ambrosi watched this match closely, studying Face.
Yale: Why would she watch this match JB? She's probably too busy in the kitchen! Besides, handipeople don't know how to operate a television!
The parking lot.
Clenched fists. White knuckles. Gritted teeth.
The Scottish King isn’t messing around tonight. Restless, he paces back and forth close to the wrestler’s entrance. He’s dressed in his black and gold ring attire with a plan black tee pulled over his otherwise naked torso. Dressed for a fight.
Dressed for war.
Yale: Oh look, it’s everyone’s favourite perpetual ratings black hole from the other side of the Atlantic!
Bryan: Dave, if you thought Andy Murray was annoyed last week, you’d better believe that he’s breathing fire tonight! Jay Terror and The Establishment made this man look like a fool last week, and know what happens when people try to belittle The Admiral of Awesome.
Yale: Indeed, it was a brilliant, genius move from Jay Terror last week to leave Andy Murray with egg all over his face. Terror fulfilled his side of the bargain; he accepted the gauntlet Murray threw down to meet him in the parking lot… and left the building with Murray’s Benz in tow!
Bryan: This is dangerous, Dave. Since coming up short at Dangerous Games we’ve seen a more upfront, confrontational side to the Scotsman, and I don’t think that bodes well for Jay Terror. We’ve all seen what Andy Murray has done to guys like Chris Bagwell in a much more buoyant frame of mind; just imagine that he’s going to try to do to Terror tonight!
Yale: This guy’s got nothing on Jay, JB. For all his huff and puff, Murray doesn’t even come close to the Establishment leader. He’s not accomplished half the things that Terror has in his GCW career, and if he keeps getting on the bad side of the wrong people, he never will. When’s this fool going to learn?
The fans, of course, do their thing at the sight of their hero, who walks so brisk that it’s a wonder the soles in his boots haven’t worn out yet. His expression is stoic and stern as he casts his gaze across the garage, squinting in the distance as a set of headlights pierce the dark.
Yale: What do you think he’s doing, JB?
Bryan: Well, we haven’t seen The Establishment tonight. My guess is he’s waiting for ‘em…
Yale: … oh dear. This isn’t gonna be pretty…
The soft whir of the black limousine’s entrance hums beneath the muffled crowd noise as the vehicle draws closer and closer. Andy stops pacing, devoting all his attention to the oncoming vehicle as it begins to decrease in speed. He begins to walk towards it, picking the pace up to a jog as the number on the licence plate becomes visible.
C4LD3RA.
Sprinting, now. The driver has to abruptly slam his foot down on the breaks to avoid hitting the Scot, such are Andy Murray’s movements. Slamming his palms down on the limo’s hood, Andy soon slides around the outside of the car, making for the back door.
Bryan: That’s Caldera’s limo! Do you think Jay’s inside!?!
Yale: I hope for Murray’s sake that he isn’t!
An agitated driver clad in an exceptional penguin suit practically falls out of the driver’s door, waving frantically at Andy.
Driver: Hey! Hey! What the hell are you doing?
The words don’t even begin to register. Murray is far too busy yanking the door open to pay any attention to a balding limousine driver’s protests. Excitement builds in the arena as the 275lb Scot dives into the limo, expecting to land on top of a hapless Establishment member.
Confusion in the arena as The Scottish King momentarily disappears into the darkness. The driver dashes round as fast as his tubby frame will allow, glaring inside the open door.
Driver: What are you doing!? This is Mr. Caldera’s limo, you ca-
He is startled as Andy suddenly climbs out of the car, the frustrated look on his face only increasing in agitation. In his hands, a small white card. The writing on it is big enough for the camera’s to pick up.
Andy,
Try harder next time.
Your friend,
JT.
Yale: Ahahaha! Murray’s been duped again!
Bryan: Jay Terror wasn’t in that car, Dave! Where the hell is the Establishment leader?!
Yale: I bet Andy Murray’s asking himself the very same question.
Bryan: But that’s Caldera’s limo? I don’t get it…
Driver: Listen pal, you’re going to have to… uh…
The looming presence of an angered 6’7" Brit is enough to convince the driver to stop mid-protest. With one hand Andy screws up the card and tosses it to the concrete. He steps forward, backing the driver into the side of the limo.
Murray: Where is he?
Driver: Where’s who? What are you talking about?!
Murray: Don’t mess me around, pal. Just tell me where Terror is…
Driver: I don’t know, okay! I don’t know!
The driver sweats, his eyes wide with panic as Murray clenches a fist.
Murray: You’re telling me that you, the guy charged with driving the punk to the show, doesn’t have a clue where Jay Terror is?
Driver: I swear, man! PLEASE!
The driver raises his hands, practically begging Andy for remorse. Andy backs off, eases up. He was still The Scottish King, after all. He wasn’t going to assault an innocent bystander, no matter how much he detests Jay Terror.
Murray steps back. The driver breathes a sigh of relief.
Bryan: Thank God for that! I thought Andy Murray was going to do something stupid there.
Yale: It wouldn’t surprise me. This guy’s been like a caged animal ever since LeStatt Knight stuck his arrows in, JB. He’s a loose cannon, he’s lost his mind.
Suddenly the camera switches. From a whole new angle we see Andy Murray shake his head before turning and swiftly smashing his boot into the tyre. About 60ft away The King shouts an inaudible obscenity and makes his way towards the wrestler's entrance.
"Haha. Shit. That worked even better than I thought it would..."
A familiar, tobacco-ravaged voice lingers in the night's air. It doesn't take a genius to work out who it's attached to, and the fans are up in arms even before the camera pans out.
"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
Bryan: Wait a minute... it's Terror! What the hell is going on?
A knowing smirk planted across his lips, Jay takes a final drag on his Marlboro and stomps it into the concrete with his boot. Beside him, Tyson DeBough chuckles quietly.
DeBough: I can't believe he actually fell for that. Stupid, filthy Scot...
Terror: Not bad, eh? C'mon, though. We gotta get to thinking up another way of making this knuckle-dragger look like an ass.
Moving away from the crates behind which they're hidden, the smug Establishment duo shift towards a small, darkened doorway.
Bryan: Are you kidding me?!
Yale: Bwahaha! That was great!
Bryan: Jay Terror has completely duped Andy Murray, AGAIN!
Yale: He knew that the Scot would be on the rampage after last week, so he slipped in the back door!
Bryan: Boy oh boy, I would NOT like to be in Jay Terror's shoes when Murray finally gets his hands round his neck!
Christian Ulrich Zenith’s office is a place of order and a symbol of power. No wrestler wants to find themselves confined inside the four walls. But some wrestlers have the displeasure of being trapped inside more than others. Two of those individuals stand outside the door, staring at the plate.
The crowd lets loose with a thunderous pop for Markus Stone and Chris Storm, who continue to just stand there and not make a sound.
Stone: You going in?
Storm: I’m not going in.
Stone: Well I’m not going in.
They continue to stare at the golden plaque.
Stone: Fine, I’ll go in.
Storm: Good, go.
Stone: Damn it man! You’re supposed to go in there with me.
Storm: Hell with that shit, dude is mean.
They go back to staring at the door, near on moving. Markus turns toward Storm, focusing hard. Chris notices his eyes on him.
Storm: Dude, the hell?
Stone: I’m trying to Force Choke a bitch out.
Storm: Weak. Fine, I’ll go in first.
Stone: Sweeeeet.
Chris reaches out, opening the door. He closes his eyes as it slowly swings open. After a few seconds he opens one eye, then the other.
Storm: What the…?
Sticking his head into the office, Chris notices that no one is there.
Storm: It’s empty.
Stone: Maybe the dude had to hit the john.
Both walk into the office now, suddenly much more confident. Taking a moment to look around, they see the office as it normally is, very neat. Not a single piece of paper looks to be out of place.
Bryan: As much as I despise his tactics, I will admit that Zenith is about the cleanest person I have ever met. He takes great pride in being well organized.
Yale: That’s because Zenith is a man of order! Everything has its place to him, and it’s usually below!
All of the orderliness starts to really bug the two troublemakers. Looking at everything, Markus turns to Chris.
Stone: Do you want to screw with Zenith while he’s not here?
Storm: Always.
Stone: Come on, I have an idea.
The two set off to move everything in Zenith’s office over by a quarter of an inch, including the furniture. Just as they finish, they hear the door opening up again and quickly dash behind the only things they can think of, the office plants. As suspected, in walks Christian, his nose buried in a file as he goes toward his chair to sit down….only to barely miss.
Yale: What the!?
Bryan: I think Banned & Exiled~! little prank just completely threw off Zenith.
Sure enough, Christian Zenith looks around completely befuddled. Studying his office, Zenith somehow notices that everything has been moved and goes about rearranging everything in his office just the right way.
Yale: Those two trouble makers are going to be in a world of trouble when Zenith finds them!
Bryan: Not like they are hiding very well. I think the entire arena can spot them.
Yale: Well, maybe not Clyde Fox.
Before Zenith can work his way toward the plants (after all, it did take a while for him to move his entire desk by himself), he is interrupted by a roadie.
Roadie: They’re not in their locker rooms, sir. I just checked.
Zenith: Then find them. I want those two in my office right now!
Roadie: Yes sir, I have guys looking all over the arena for them. We’ll find them before the show is over.
Getting up from his desk, Zenith walks up to the roadie and stands toe to toe with the man.
Zenith: I don’t want them by the end of the show. I want them in my office right now. What part of that don’t you understand? I have Caldera breathing down my neck about their little antics last week, and I’m in the mood to put my heel into their spines. So if you don’t bring them into my office in the next ten minutes, I will place my heel in your spine. Clear?
Roadie: Crystal.
With Zenith distracted as he berates the roadie, Banned & Exiled~! take the opportunity to sneak out from their hiding places and grab all the papers on Zenith’s desk, throwing them into the air. The crowd breaks into a great laugh as Markus and Chris both resume their hiding when the roadie starts to leave.
Zenith: Now that that is taken care of…
Turning around, Zenith notices the mess that has suddenly appeared in his office. To say he loses his cool is an understatement. He goes completely apeshit.
Yale: I can’t believe this! Someone stop those two!
Bryan: They are certainly giving the Commissioner a crash course in Banned & Exiled~! antics.
Picking everything back up and trying to calmly putting back in order, his seething anger shows through as each piece of paper is placed back where it needed to be. Seeing him distracted again, Banned & Exiled~! sneak out again to try and grab the stuff off his desk, but Zenith turns around just in time to catch them in the act.
Zenith: What in the blue depths of hell do you two think you are doing?
Chris looks to Markus, who looks at Chris.
Storm: Uh..
Stone: Redecorating?
Storm: Free of course.
Stone: We’re just generous like that.
Storm: You should probably give us a reason or some shit.
Zenith: SIT!
Chris and Markus nearly trip over each other rushing to sit down. Zenith once more looks at the paperwork on his desk, and slightly shifts his stapler to angle it slightly to his right. Zenith reaches down to his drawer, and pulls out a folder nearly six inches thick.
Zenith: Do you have any idea what this is?
Storm: Your list of heart medications?
Stone: Names and addresses of all the hookers you have to sleep with this week?
Zenith: Funny. No gentlemen, this is your file. Your disciplinary folder.
Stone: Dude, it's like a permanent record.
Storm: I knew those followed you after high school!
Stone: Somebody lied to me.
Zenith: SHUT UP! I've been looking at this, and to be honest I'm amazed that Mr. Caldera even allows the two of you to remain employed here.
Stone: Ratings.
Storm: Merchandise.
Zenith flips through the pages of the folder calmly, not looking at the two in front of him.
Zenith: You tried to add an extra layer of wallpaper to Mr. Caldera's office week after week, not realizing that we change arenas for each show. You've gouged his tires, in plain sight of GCW security. You've egged his house. The list goes on.
Markus and Chris exchange celebratory smiles at the recognition of our handiwork. Zenith slams the folder shut, bringing the attention of the idiotic duo back to him.
Zenith: Now, it goes without saying that I know you two ruined the NC-17 video from last week. How is it that you two Neanderthals managed to sabotage a top secret video, which nobody knew anything about before we went on the air, hours before it appeared to the public? How can you two manage something so clever, by yourselves?
Storm: We've got our sources.
Zenith: And who might that be?
Markus Stone leans across the desk, motioning Zenith in, as Stone looks around the room to make sure there are no extra ears.
Stone: Shhhh...it's the popcorn vendor.
Zenith: Damn you! I am trying very hard to maintain my patience and self control here, but you are proving to be extremely trying.
KNOCK KNOCK
Zenith: Send him in!
The door opens, and into the room enters Rikki Roxx, wearing a GCW ballcap, sunglasses, and a painted on mustache.
Roxx: Si senor?
Zenith: Now, as the chief of our production crew, maybe you could shed some light as to how the video was ruined by these two last week.
Roxx: Por que?
Zenith: What happened to our NC-17 video?
Roxx: Habla espanol?
Zenith: What happened last week?
Roxx: No se.
Zenith: What?
Roxx: No se. No habla.
Zenith: I want the truth dammit!
B&E~!: YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE TRUTH!!!!!!
Of course, this elicits a furious eruption of anger from Christian Zenith.
Zenith: You! Out!
Roxx: Adios amigo.
Roxx looks at the duo of B&E~! before leaving.
Roxx: Later guys.
Roxx leaves the door, oblivious to what he just did. Markus and Chris drop their hands into their heads, baffled.
Zenith: Is everybody here screwing with me? Seriously!
Stone: I think it's pretty much just us dude.
Storm: Yeah, nobody else has a sense of humor here.
Zenith: SHUT IT! Listen to me, very, carefully. I don't like you, I don't think you belong here, and I don't want either of you walking away from your match against Oblivion.
Storm: Don't worry chief, we're just gonna get a disqualification at the start of the match.
Stone: Yeah man, we gotta think long term about our careers, you know?
Zenith: So, instead of allowing you to ruin the Tag Team Championship match at NC-17, much like you ruined our video last week, you will compete against Oblivion in a No Disqualification match for the GCW Tag Team Championship!
Yale: YES!!!!
Bryan: Oh wow! This is huge! Oblivion versus Banned & Exiled~!, anything goes!
Yale: Those two are gonna get killed!
Stone: Seriously, Mr. Zenith, that's not really a good idea.
Storm: Yeah man, you're sending the cash cow to the slaughterhouse. One steak can't be worth that much to you.
Zenith: Oh yes boys, yes it is. Now, GET OUT!!!!
Markus and Chris jump out of their chairs, almost tripping over each other to leave the office. Closing the door behind them, Chris and Markus turn to each other.
Storm: That went well.
Stone: Well? We're screwed!
Storm: Nah dude, we're gonna get Zenith back tonight.
Zenith's Voice From Inside The Office: AND DON'T YOU DARE TRY TO PULL ANY MORE PRANKS ON ME TONIGHT! I'LL BOOK THE TWO OF YOU AGAINST THE ENTIRE ROSTER IN A CAGE MATCH WITH BOTH OF YOU HANDCUFFED!!!!!!!!
Storm: Nevermind.
Stone: Sh*bleep*
Bryan: So we're going from one member of The Movement right into another.
Yale: That's right, JB, and tonight is going to leave a mark in history.
Bryan: Why's that, David?
Yale: Because we're going to see Dan Black end the win streak of Garbage Bag Johnny and become the first ever duel title holder!
Bryan: Well I don't doubt that The Bulldozer has exactly what it takes to win this match, but you have to wonder what kind of mental condition he's got to be in after the whole prison incident this weekend.
Yale: I'm sure it'll be fine, JB. He doesn't let that kind of stuff bother him.
Bryan: We can't even be sure that the authorities are going to even let Dan participate.
Yale: Well I guess that's what we're about to find out!
Andrews: The following contest is for one fall and is for the United States Championship! First, from Chicago, Illinois..He is the undefeated United States Champion... GGGAARBBAGGEEE BAAAAAAAAAGGG JOOOHNNNNNNNYYYY!!
Garbage Bag Johnny mosies out through the curtain, holding the US title in his hand and letting it drag along the ground and he paces to the ring in a slow meander. His eyes look all blood-shot and his hair an absolute mess.
Yale: As usual, GBJ is coming out here looking like he just shot up another dose of heroin. Don't we drug test around here?
Bryan: You really can't just give people any respect for the things they've done, can you?
Andrews: And his opponent, from New York City. The Bulldozer... DDAAAAAAANN BLLLAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCKKK!!!
"The Ultimate Remix" by Jarrid Mendelson blasts over the public announce system. Pyrotechnics explode at the top of the stage as the fans respond with booing. After a few moments, however, there is still no Dan Black.
Yale: What's going on!?
Bryan: It doesn't look like Dan Black is coming down to the ring.
Yale: Of course he's coming out. Where is he? He won't just no-show.
Bryan: I'm not sure, David.
The music continues, but the pyrotechnics cease. Referee Hal Jenkins shares a few words with Joey Andrews, asking him if he can cue Dan Black again.
Andrews: DAAAAAANNN BLLLLAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCCCKKKKKK....
But Black still doesn't show.
Bryan: I don't think Black is coming out here.
Yale: Jenkins looks like he's ready to call the match.
There's sudden movement at the curtain at the top of the stage.
Bryan: Is this him? I swear I saw the curtain just move.
Mr. Danger rushes out from behind the curtain, looking very frantic.
Yale: Oh no! This doesn't look good.
Bryan: Danger looks extremely worried. I wonder if something happened.
Danger continues down the ramp, extremely frantic. Garbage Bag Johnny and Hal Jenkins both come towards the rope to check and see what's wrong. All of a sudden, there's a bit of commotion in the crowd. A man dressed in jeans and a dark colored t-shirt hop the guardrail and slides into the ring.
Bryan: IT’S DAN BLACK!
Yale: It was a trick!!
Danger's face lights up with a smile as Dan Black comes up from behind Johnny with a monstrous clothesline to the back of the head. Johnny hits the canvas and Black unloads on him with a serious of boots to the head. Black grabs the top rope for leverage and smashes his foot into Johnny's face. Jenkins calls for the bell to start the match.
Ding, ding, ding
Bryan: Well I have to hand it to Black, he had us all fooled.
Jenkins gets between Black and GBJ and insists that Black get off the ropes. Black complies and steps away, but wastes little time going back after Johnny. He snatches Johnny's foot and drags him towards the center of the ring. He then walks around towards Johnny's head and lifts him up to his feet by his hair. Black delivers a hard right hook into Johnny's face, sending the champion falling backwards. But Black remains holding onto GBJ's hair with his left hand, keeping GBJ from hitting the canvas.
Yale: Look at this, JB. He's using Garbage Bag Johnny as a punching bag!
Black hits Johnny with another hard right hook and continues to hold him up by his scraggly hair. Finally, Black winds up and takes GBJ to the canvas with a modified short-arm clothesline. The Bulldozer pops back up and throws his arms in the air, looking for the pop. Instead, he gets quite the contrary.
BOOOOO!!!
Bryan: I can see why they call him The Bulldozer. He nearly took Johnny's head off with that clothesline.
Yale: That's right, JB! The next United States Champion!
Disgruntled with the crowd's reaction, Black decides to take his anger out on the champion. He lifts Garbage Bag Johnny up to his feet and shoves GBJ's head between his legs. Black lifts Johnny into the air and drives his head into the canvas with a piledriver.
Bryan: Black returning to basics with an effective piledriver on Garbage Bag Johnny.
Yale: Pin him! Pin him!
Black takes David Yale's advice and lays himself atop of the United States Champion. Danger, still on the outside, cheers on his partner. Hal Jenkins gets down for the count.
1..
2..
THR...
Bryan: JOHNNY GETS A SHOULDER UP!
Yale: Come 'on, ref. That was a slow count.
Black climbs up off of Johnny and immediately rushes over to the referee to argue the 'slow' count. While distracting the referee, Danger is able to sneak into the ring. He lifts Garbage Bag Johnny up and grabs hold of his head. He attempts to drop him to the canvas with a DDT, but Johnny shoves Danger away. Danger swings at GBJ, but GBJ comes off his feet and hits Danger with a front dropkick to the chest. Danger goes crashing to the outside of the ring.
Bryan: Danger had no business getting involved.
Yale: What do you mean? Johnny pulled him into the ring. He was trying to get out and let the match be fair.
Bryan: I'm sure that was exactly his intention.
Black shoves Hal Jenkins aside and attempts to hit Johnny again while he's not paying attention. Black whails his arm around with another clothesline but Johnny dodges simply by dropping to one knee. Simultaneously, he throws a quick right elbow into Black's gut to throw the Bulldozer off balance. Black spins around, grabbing hold of is gut. Johnny moves up behind him, locks in, and takes The Bulldozer to the canvas with a dragon snap suplex.
Bryan: Johnny with the counter to the clothesline. Follows through with a Dragon Suplex.
Yale: But it doesn't look like it’s enough to keep Dan Black down.
Black rolls around on the canvas before climbing back up to his feet. Johnny meets him and the two lock up in the center of the ring. Black clearly over-powers Johnny and starts forcing the champion down to his knee. Black moves in and locks Johnny's full head of hair in a standing side headlock. He wrenches his arms in, choking the life out of Garbage Bag Johnny.
Bryan: Black pulling Garbage Bag Johnny in tight with a headlock.
Yale: He's really got a clear advantage of GBJ in the strength department. I'm going to say Black wears a good fifty pounds more than GBJ.
Bryan: That's a pretty damn good guess.
Johnny, with complete disregard of his head, uses all his might to shove Black off of him and forward. Black surprisingly breaks the hold and heads towards the ropes. He comes back at Johnny with a big shoulder press, but Johnny drops to the canvas onto his stomach. Black leaps over Johnny and continues to the opposite side of the ring. Johnny presses himself back onto his feet in time to meet Black with a missile dropkick. Both men hit the canvas, but get right back up. Johnny hits the ropes. He comes sprinting back at Black and connects with a cross body block, taking the Bulldozer off his feet.
Yale: That's the most offensive I've seen Johnny hit all night.
Bryan: He seems to finally be getting into his groove.
Johnny climbs back onto his feet quickly. He heads to the ropes again. But this time, instead of bouncing against then, he does a baseball slide underneath the bottom rope. Garbage Bag Johnny connects with Danger's head on the outside, sending the startled legend to the ground. The crowd roars for Johnny.
Bryan: And GBJ hits a baseball slide right into Mr. Danger's mouth!
Yale: I can't believe it. Danger didn't even see it coming!
Bryan: The crowd certainly did and they seem to love it.
Johnny uses the ropes to pull himself back up and onto his feet. He sets his sights back towards Dan Black, who is climbing to his feet in the center of the ring. Garbage Bag Johnny takes off on a sprint and catches Black’s head from behind, smashing the Bulldozer’s head right back down into the canvas with a bulldog slam.
Bryan: Annnddddd DOWN goes Dan Black!
Yale: The Bulldozer seems like he’s losing focus here. Johnny’s armpit odor must be starting to get to him and making him delusional.
Bryan: It looks like Garbage Bag Johnny is going to try and end this thing.
Johnny lays himself atop of Dan Black and attempts the pin fall. Hal Jenkins gets down on the canvas for the count.
1..
2..
Black manages to get a shoulder up.
Yale: He’s still in it!
Bryan: Dan Black battles back against the United States Champion.
Johnny climbs up and off of Dan Black and gives the Television Champion a moment to get up, himself. Black takes his time getting back up to his feet. As soon as he’s vertical, GBJ comes rushing towards him. Johnny hops into the air and looks to hit Black with a wrap-around DDT. But as Johnny’s momentum swings around and tries to bring Black to the mat, Black is able to stop it. He hoists Garbage Bag Johnny back up into the air and then drives him right back down to the mat with a spine-buster.
Bryan: Dan Black able to barely reverse that one.
Yale: And now he’s got Garbage Bag Johnny right back where he wants him.
Bryan: Black is looking for the cover.
Black immediately hooks the leg.
1..
2..
But Johnny breaks free.
Yale: Damn this referee! Can someone teach him how to count a pin fall!?
Bryan: The US Champion isn’t out of this yet. His black lung seems to be holding up pretty well, considering the powerhouse hits he’s getting from The Bulldozer.
Black gets back up to his feet and lifts Johnny up along side of him. He grabs Garbage Bag’s hand and sends him into the corner with an Irish whip. Johnny’s back crashes against the turnbuckles and he cringes in pain. Black takes off like a stampede of wild animals after GBJ in the corner. He lowers his shoulder and looks for a monstrous spear.
Bryan: JOHNNY JUST HOISTED HIMSELF UP AND OVER BLACK!
Yale: AHHHHHHHHH MAN! HIS SHOULDER!
Johnny uses both adjacent sides of the top rope to hoist himself over Dan Black, forcing the TV Champion to crash into the steel post and completely miss the spear. Black drops backwards and twists around, plopping his butt to the canvas with his head against the middle turnbuckle. He faces towards the inside of the ring. Johnny hoists himself forward, landing but a few feet in front of Black. He takes a few steps towards the center of the ring and then looks back at The Bulldozer.
Bryan: Dan Black just looks shot out after that one.
Yale: He just exploded his shoulder against the turnbuckle, JB! He had to have done some serious nerve damage.
Bryan: One thing’s for sure – he would’ve murdered Johnny if he had connected.
Yale: Oh yes.
Johnny looks to his left with a smirk. He jerks his head then to the right. He then points his index fingers on both hands towards Dan Black and follows it up with a rodeo twirling of his wrists. The crowd roars for Johnny’s taunting.
Yale: What exactly is he trying to convey here, JB?
Bryan: It looks like me like he wants to go hog tying or something.
Yale: Hog…? Ohhhh no. He doesn’t want to play with hogs. JB, he wants to play with BRONCOS!
Bryan: What?!
Garbage Bag Johnny sprints towards Dan Black and hops onto his shoulders.
Bryan: MY GOD! GARBAGE BAG JOHNNY JUST JUMPED ONTO DAN BLACK WITH A BRONCO BUSTER!!!
Yale: I don’t think I’ve seen this move performed in YEARS!
The arena rumbles with "WWWWOOOOOOO’s" and "YEEEEEEHAAAAWWW’s" as Garbage Bag Johnny executes a rodeo style bronco buster on The Bulldozer. Black flails his arms and wears a look of utter disgust.
Yale: I just got a really bad thought, JB.
Bryan: What?
Yale: Well, we know how bad Johnny’s pits smell. Can you imagine how awful his ball-sweat must reek?
Bryan: Oh Jesus, Dave. That’s just not something I ever want to think about again.
After about a minute and a half of busting Black’s bronco, Garbage Bag Johnny steps off and away from his competitor. The challenger uses the ropes to pull himself back up to his feet, wiping away the remnants of any odor that may have been left by GBJ’s private parts.
Bryan: Now you’ve seriously got my stomach turning.
Yale: Imagine how Dan Black feels right now.
Bryan: Well I can imagine he’s about to feel a whole helluva lot better. Look at the top of the stage.
Out from the back comes Axel Action with his kendo stick in hand. He slowly makes his way towards the ring to add himself as an additional enforcer in this match.
Yale: He’s just out here to cheer on his fellow Movement member, JB. Nothing more.
Bryan: Yeah, just like Danger was – huh?
Black finally steps out and away from the corner and is immediately met with a back elbow smash from Garbage Bag Johnny. The smash forces Black into a stagger. Johnny grabs Black by the wrist and Irish whips him to the other side of the ring. Black bounces off the ropes and comes back at Johnny, who leans forward for a back body drop. Black stops dead in his tracks a matter of inches in front of Johnny. He delivers a hard overhand chop to Johnny’s spine.
Yale: Dan Black just totally outsmarted the United States Champion. And it looks like he’s signaling for The Black-Out!
Bryan: Mr. Danger is climbing up on the ring apron.
Black waives Axel into the ring as he shoves Johnny between his legs and hooks both arms, preparing for his finishing maneuver. Mr. Danger climbs the apron and distracts Hal Jenkins as Axel Action enters with his kendo stick.
Bryan: This is unnecessary. Completely unnecessary.
Yale: Dan is pointing to Johnny’s back. He wants to make sure that the Garbage Boy can’t walk after this match.
Axel creeps up and places the end of the stick across Johnny’s back, measuring out his shot. He jerks the stick back and swings it forward with all of his might…
Yale: WHAT!?
Bryan: WHAT?!
Instead of smashing the kendo stick across Johnny’s back, he cracks it across Black’s chest! Black goes stumbling back against the ropes, releasing GBJ. Axel flees the ring and heads back towards the ramp. Danger, who sees it all, drops himself off the apron in utter shock. Black falls against the ropes and bounces forward right into Johnny’s arms.
Yale: What the hell is Axel doing!?
Bryan: I think he just turned on Dan Black and The Movement.
Johnny hoists Black into the air with a fireman’s carry and drops him down with a falling forward sideways DDT.
Bryan: Garbage Bag Johnny just hit the Tragically Hipbuster in the ring. This one is all over!
Yale: I can’t believe it.
Danger tries to go after Axel, but is held at bay with a couple swings of the kendo stick. Instead, he just lets Axel walk back up the ramp. Danger looks back into the ring and sees Johnny covering Dan Black.
1..
2..
3..!!
Ding, ding, ding
Andrews: And the winner of this match and STILL UNITED STATES CHAMPION………GARBAGE BAAAAAAAAGGGG JOOOOOOOOHNNYYYY!!
Johnny grabs his title and immediately heads up the ramp without any celebration. Danger slides into the ring to check on Black and to try and make some sense of what just happened.
Yale: I can’t believe what I’m seeing, JB.
Bryan: The undefeated streak continues, Dave! Garbage Bag Johnny is one step further on his journey as becoming one of the greatest United States Champions we’ve ever seen!
Yale: I maybe expected to see Zacharia Taylor come out here and attack GBJ, but I never anticipated Axel Action to turn on the Movement.
Bryan: It looks like the group is self destructing week-after-week.
Yale: Dan Black is going to be one PISSED Bulldozer when he gets back up.
Jacob McKail.
Everybody hates him. Not just the GCW roster, everybody. And what’s more, he knows it. Therefore, you have to question the sanity of the man when he also goes out of his way to antagonise folk and compound their hatred.
It’s only a matter of time before he pushes the wrong person, too far. He knows this; he isn’t a stupid man.
He just acts like one.
Standing in the corridors of the somewhat impressive arena, back against the wall, McKail is smoking and blowing the excess smoke into the faces of anybody who shoots him a disgusted glance as they walk by.
Yale: Can you believe this?
Bryan: Certainly. This surprises you? McKail is an ass, pure and simple.
Yale: Maybe, but needlessly antagonising people like this? Doesn’t make sense to me.
Bryan: Whoever said it needed to? After what he’s done to this industry, pissing people off just because he can doesn’t surprise me one bit.
In the distance, a rather sizeable figure stomps into view. As the figure draws closer, his identity finally becomes clear.
Quite possibly the last person Jacob McKail wanted to run into tonight.
Yale: Andy Murray!
Bryan: Well, McKail better not piss this guy off! Andy Murray's been in a foul mood all evening...
Yale: Agreed…but I’m kind of hoping he does though…
Bryan: I’m with ya there…
As Murray comes within spitting distance, McKail eyes him warily and it’s not long before the Scottish King of Cool meets his gaze.
Murray: Can I help you, fucknut?
McKail cracks a wry grin. Silently, he takes a drag of his cigarette.
Murray: What the hell are you supposed to be anyway, McKail? Aside from Garbage Bag Johnny's grumpier twin brother, of course. Some kind of mentally defected mute? 'Cause, I mean, that would make a lot of sense...
Yale: Murray’s got a point there...
Bryan: Haha, I agree entirely. Looks like the big Scot is using McKail to take his frustrations out on tonight, seeing as he hasn't been able to find Jay Terror all night...
Murray: Cat got your tongue, McKail? Have you ran out of those of oh-so witty, smart-arse replies you love to throw around the place? That's how you usually do business, right? Either that or standing around the corridor of a WorldWide show when you’re not even booked on, stinking the place up like an unwanted smell. You need to clean up your act, man; if I didn't know any better and you were the first thing I saw in the arena tonight, I'd think this were some kinda homeless soup kitchen, not a wrestling show...
McKail’s grin widens, but he looks away not rising to the bait - not visibly at least.
Yale: Murray’s looking to push a few buttons here, but even though he outweighs McKail by a hundred pounds or so, is that the best of ideas JB?
Bryan: Let’s just say I wouldn’t do it, Dave, and leave it at that.
Murray develops a toothy grin.
Murray: But shit, we all know why you're really here, don't we Jacob?
McKail directs his attention back to the much larger man and glares at him sternly.
Murray chuckles to himself.
Yale: I think we all know where this is going, JB.
Bryan: You’d think.
Murray: You know what I’m talking about. Here to do a little match rigging? Guess not being booked an all doesn’t stop you any, huh?
Andy pauses, finding himself able to crack a smile for the first time in a few weeks.
Murray: Been hoping I'd run into you for a little while actually, Jacob. See, I've been doing this whole wrestling thing for a damn sight longer than just about anyone else on the roster, and I sure as hell didn't work as hard as I have to give pathetic little leeches like you the chance to sully this great sport's reputation. Your presence alone is an insult to those of us who've been hitting that grindstone since day one. You're a piece of shit. A filthy, match-fixing parasite, and you are not welcome here.
Fire rages in the eyes of McKail quite distinctly, but he does not react upon them. Instead, he takes a drag of his cigarette and blows the dubious remnants directly into Murray’s face.
Yale: This getting heated real quick. I’m not sure I like where this is going…
Bryan: Don’t worry about it, David. They’re just blowing off steam is all.
Yale: I hope you’re right, JB. I hope you’re right…
Murray: Hit a nerve did I? I wonder, are you more annoyed that somebody could question your character like this...
Murray takes a step closer, his smile evaporates and his face turns grim - all in the blink of an eye. The rage in McKail’s eyes simmer down some and he maintains his position, entirely unthreatened by Murray’s overbearing demeanour.
Murray: ... or is it because you were found out?
Yale: Looks like the banter’s over here, JB.
Bryan: I think you’re right, David. Fisticuffs might be on the cards here.
Yale: Fisticuffs? Seriously?
Bryan: What?
Yale: Well in any case, I think security needs to get down there right now before things really get out of hand.
Murray: You disgust me, you know that? You make me physically sick.
McKail rolls his eyes.
McKail: Like I give a fuck.
Murray’s eyes widen with rage.
Murray: You’re scum. Subhuman scum. Why the hell Caldera still lets you take up valuable roster space is way beyond my comprehension.
McKail rolls his eyes.
McKail: Way I see it, most things are beyond your comprehension.
McKail turns to leave, whilst Murray’s eyes widen with rage. He places a hand on McKail’s shoulder to stop him in his tracks.
McKail: Like my culpability in an utter fabrication perpetuated by the media.
Yale: What the hell?
Bryan: Was that sentence even English?
Yale: I’m not sure, JB…
Murray’s expression turns to a curious concoction of anger and bewilderment.
Murray: What the hell are you talking about?
With effort, McKail wrenches his shoulder free from Murray’s grasp and continues along the corridor.
McKail: Like I said - most things are beyond your comprehension.
With that, leaves.
Bryan: Well, I'm getting word right now that Ayake Sonoda is backstage with none other than Chris Bagwell to comment on what happened earlier tonight with Vivica J. Valentine.
Yale: From what I've heard, JB, Vivica has been escorted out of the sound truck so we don't have to worry about anymore of those rude interruptions or stupid antics she was trying to pull earlier.
Bryan: I'm not going to lie, I was hoping we would. Anything to keep me from hearing Bagwell's whining.
Yale: Ahh enough of you. Let's send it backstage to Anake.
The cameras cut backstage to a small set harboring the GCW logo, where Ayake Sonoda stands along side a very pissed off looking Chris Bagwell.
Ayake Sonoda: Thanks guys! Hello everyone, I'm Ayake Sonoda and I'm being joined right now by the ever-so-controversial and self-proclaimed Rajah of Ratings ... Chris Bagwell!
Chris gleams down at Ayake, remaining fairly still and completely silent. Ayake grows a bit uncomfortable, considering the fact that it was Chris Bagwell who wanted this interview in the first
Sonoda: So... Chris. You said you had something to address?
Bagwell nods his head.
Bagwell: You look a bit familiar. Like I've seen you from somewhere.
Sonoda: Well Chris, I am the host of the GCW Rizing Stars webcast that you can find online at GCWOnline.net!
Yale: Nothing like a shameless plug.
Bagwell shakes his head.
Bagwell: No. I've never even heard of that. And to be honest, it sounds like a load of horse crap.
Ayake's face turns to a look of disgust.
Sonoda: I'm sorry it's not your thing. Is there something you wanted to address or can I be on my way?
Bagwell snatches the microphone from Ayake's hand and his expression of ponder transforms into one of anomosity.
Bagwell: As a matter of fact there is. Two weeks ago, the World Champion promised me a title match to take place last week on Worldwide. When I came out to the ring, instead of being greeted with the declaration of the match I was told that I was being ejected from the arena. Vivica J. Valentine came out to try and sabotage me and then Jordan White completely bailed out on his promise.
Bagwell looks over at Ayake for her response, but she only shrugs her shoulders.
Bagwell: Then earlier tonight, I come out here to voice my displeasure in Vivica's actions and I'm again completely disrespected. So not only was I screwed out of my World Championsihp Title shot, but Vivica J. Valentine made an absolute fool out of me on live national television. Do you know how that makes me feel, Ay-Yoda?
Bagwell points the microphone in Ayake's direction, but quickly flicks it away.
Bagwell: To be honest, I really don't give a crap what you have to say. The reason for this interview, or lack there of, is to make a statement. No, no, no. To make an ultimadum.
Yale: Boy this sounds like it could be good!
Bryan: My feelings aren't the same.
Bagwell: I'm sick of bending over backwards for this God-forsaken company and driving in revenue and not being rewarded for it. I'm sick of the bullshit. I'm sick of the under-booking. I'm sick of having to wait in line for things while other, less-talented superstars get catapulted to the main event to make your quote unquote champion look good.
Yale: He's got a point, JB.
Bryan: No he doesn't.
Bagwell: From now on, I'll be the one making all the decisions around here as it pertains to the direction of my career.
Yale: What do you think he means by that, JB?
Bagwell: There will be no more waiting around. There will be no more asking Commissioner Zenith. There will be no more bribing. If I want something, I'm going to TAKE IT! And the first thing you can add to my list is Vivica J. Valentine. I don't care the match and I don't care the place. I want Vivica J. Valentine in the ring so I can wrap my hands around that little bitch's throat and squeeze her until her eyes roll to the back of her head.
Bryan: And we wonder why he doesn't get dates.
Bagwell: And Valentine, if you don't think I'm serious -- try me. For every show you don't accept my match, I'll put someone else into the hospital. Anyone. I don't care how big, how small, how tall, or how Asian...
Bagwell turns towards Ayake, whose eyes light up. He then quickly smashes the microphone into her face, dropping her to the ground. Bagwell mounts himself over Ayake and starts pummeling her face with the microphone. He climbs up off of her and pulls her to her feet from the ground.
Bryan: WHAT THE HELL IS HE DOING!?
Yale: Ohhh man. I told you she shouldn't have gotten under his skin, JB.
Bryan: She has nothing to do with any of this.
Bagwell lifts Ayake into the air and drives her into the concrete with a Torn Identity. Ayake's blood rushes from her face as she lays motionless on the ground. Bagwell scoops the microphone up off the ground.
Bagwell: YATA! That's it. I knew she looked familiar. That short, fat Chinese geek from Heroes. Maybe he can go back and time and save her next time.
Bagwell tosses the microphone onto Ayake's body and walks away laughing.
Bryan: That man is SICK. He's a sick prick. He had absolutely no business attacking Ayake Sonoda. She did nothing wrong to him.
Yale: You heard the man, JB. He said he wasn't going to stop until he gets what he wants.
Bryan: And I'm sure Valentine isn't the only thing he wants. Next he's going to be demanding title shots. Somebody has got to put an end to this.
Yale: Well I hate to put an end to your rant, but we've got to head to commercial break.
Just before the camera's cut to commercial, they switch to a backstage monitor. Standing in front of the monitor is none other than the World Champion himself, Jordan White. White glares at the screen, watching in replay what Chris Bagwell just did to Ayake Sonoda. In an abrupt motion, he juts past the monitor and marches down the hallway at a quickening pace.
Face is backstage, pacing with his lighter, as usual. It's something of a ritual with him, a compulsion, a sight as common as the rising and setting of the sun every day.
But as Face completes his usual ritual, there is, indeed, something amiss. Perhaps he hasn't noticed it due to complacence- perhaps distraction. Nevertheless, there are a pair of eyes watching him from the pool of shadows cast by a flickering overhead light. Watching his every move.
It doesn't take long before it's the right time to strike. From the shadows comes a near-inhuman sounding roar, accompanied by-
SMACK!
The sound of metal against skin. Steel chair against kneecap, to be precise.
Bryan: My God! Lia just caught Face completely off-guard with that chair shot!
Yale: Well, would you look at that...
Face instantly buckles over to the ground, holding his knee. Much to Lia's, and the rest of the arena's, surprise, however, Face begins to laugh to himself, albeit somewhat forced.
Face: I see you've still got some fight left in you, Ms. Ambrosi...
Face tries to get up, but the knee the chair made contact with buckles under the pressure and Face falls to his back.
Bryan: It looks like...like Face has been injured!
Yale: Well, you know what they say about payback...
She takes another vicious swing at Face's knee, the expression on her face one of pure, unadulterated fury. The sound is a sickening one.
Lia Ambrosi: Oh, I can be a right bitch when I want to be, Mr. Face.
She tosses the chair off down the hallway, and it goes with a loud clatter.
Lia Ambrosi: You shouldn't have underestimated me.
She seems to know that her opponent is vulnerable at the moment- and what's more, she seems to be glorying in it.
Bryan: What is this? Has Lia lost it?
Yale: A better question: did she ever have it?
Face clutches his knee and can no longer hide the intense pain, although he doesn't let Ambrosi have the luxury of seeing him writhe around in pain either.
Face: Oh, I haven't underestimated you, Ms. Ambrosi. (Face pauses to let the pain in his knee subside a bit.) No...you're the one that is underestimating me. You'd be smart to finish me off now...but I know you won't. You think the playing field is even now...but it isn't. No...not at all...
Ambrosi bares her teeth.
Ambrosi: Ah, but you're the one on the ground right now, aren't you? Keep talking- it's all you have.
She turns, and simply walks away. Perhaps she's falling into Face's trap- or perhaps she has a point.
Bryan: Well ladies and gentlemen, it is time for some tag team action, and making their in ring return to action is the former tag team champions, Banned & Exiled~!
Yale: If they were smart, they would have stayed gone. They have to return against Tyson DeBough and a mystery partner of his choosing.
Bryan: And as we learned last week, the partner may not always be willing.
Yale: Face should feel honored that he was allowed to stay in the same ring as a member of the Establishment!
FLASH!
Bryan: And it appears Banned & Exiled~! will be making their way out first.
Yale: That’s right, saving the best for last.
Queen’s "Flash" kicks out, bellowing a tune to salute one of the greatest American heroes, Flash Gordon. The crowd, however, goes crazy for a completely different reason. Markus Stone and Chris Storm step out onto the ramp, drawing a massive reaction from the crowd.
Bryan: There is no doubt about it, Oklahoma is Banned & Exiled~! country.
Yale: That says a lot about the kind of fans those two attract.
Making their way down to the ring, Markus Stone makes sure to slap hands with all the fans along the way, even going around the entire ring before finally sliding under the bottom rope.
Bryan: Markus Stone sure looks happy to be making a hometown comeback tonight.
Yale: Hometown curse!
Joey Andrews gets ready to introduce the two, but he never gets the chance to even lift his microphone to his lips. Markus Stone pulls out his microphone, lifting it high into the air for all to see. The crowd gives off a huge pop. Slowly he draws it back in, closing his eyes as he gets ready to speak. The crowd falls into a hushed silence.
Stone: BOOMER SOONER!
And they go beyond apeshit. Massive chants of Boomer Sooner break out all over the arena, enough so that even good ol’ JR would blush. Markus Stone is too tough for that though, and opens his eyes with a huge grin on his face. Chris, all the while, just rolls his eyes. But he can shut the hell up because his Tigers are going to the damn Chicken Bowl like a bunch of bitches.
Yale: Why is it that anytime they appear, it always somehow works its way back around to college football or lesbians?
Bryan: Because that, my friend, is the only two things that matter in life.
Stone: Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, Sooner fans of all ages! Please help me in introducing back, the GREATEST TAG TEAM IN THE KNOWN MULTIVERSE! Chris "I Hate Pick 6s" Storm and Markus "Fuck’em Longhorns" Stone, we are BANNED & EXILED~!
For the third time in just a few minutes, the crowd goes absolutely crazy for the hometown hero as he takes a jab at their sworn rivals. Chants of "B & E~!" flood through the crowd, keeping the intensity in the arena at maximum.
Storm: Now I have some bad news to announce.
The crowd quiets down; trying to hear what the awesome duo of awesomeness has to say.
Storm: I know we are booked to take on Tyson DeBough and his mystery partner tonight, but unfortunately that won’t be happening. You see, Markus and I aren’t medically cleared to wrestle.
Stone: Yeah, we both suffered severe groin injures when some hot bitches were all up on us last night.
Storm: Turns out there isn’t enough of us to go around when it’s double digits.
Stone: And double D.
Storm: That was awesome.
KNUCKLE BUMP~!
Though the crowd wants to boo for not being able to see them in action, they just can’t bring themselves to do it under the circumstances. After all, any one of them would have did the same thing if the hot bitches had presented themselves.
Bryan: Can’t argue with that.
Yale: I don’t believe them; they are just trying to avoid getting handled by Tyson DeBough and his partner.
Stone: But fear not, for we have found replacements!
Storm: Replacements worthy of replacing the unreplaceable!
Stone: And stuff!
Storm: Without further ado…
"Hard Rock Halleluja" by Lordi hits and the fans leap to their feet. It is, after all, a rare and special thing to see a God in person. And as we all know, Rikki Roxx is the God of Rock. Coming out with him is fellow Banned & Exiled~! groupie, Arizona.
Bryan: It looks like Banned & Exiled~! will be getting replaced tonight by Rikki Roxx and Arizona.
Yale: This is an insult to the talent of Tyson DeBough and the Establishment!
The two enter the ring to the crowd’s cheer, which quickly changes when "Established" hits. Boos come raining down hard but only Tyson DeBough steps out from behind the curtain.
Bryan: So who do you think he got to tag with him this week?
Yale: He’s a part of the Establishment! He can get anyone he wants.
Bryan: By the look on his face, I’m not entirely sure.
Turning back toward the entrance ramp, Tyson DeBough waits for a minute before starting to head down toward the ring. He looks over at both members of Banned & Exiled~! before turning his attention back to his opponents waiting for him in the ring.
Bryan: I think Tyson is expecting someone to come out with him, but it looks like they are a no show.
Yale: What? Who would dare defy the Establishment? Fire them on the spot!
Tyson looks back at the former Tag Team champions for a second, hesitates, but decides to slide into the ring. Chris and Markus nod their head in unison and walk over toward the announce tables.
Yale: What are those two doing?
Bryan: I don’t know, but it looks like Tyson DeBough will be going alone for it now.
Markus looks under the ring while Chris grabs two chairs that are tucked over by the announce tables. Finding what he is looking for, Markus pulls out a table and brings it over to where Chris has the chairs. They set it up and take a seat, reaching into their pants and pulling out….microphones.
Yale: Just what are you two doing?
Stone: Announcing.
Yale: Weren’t you two banned from both the Spanish Announce table and ours?
Storm: Yes, which is why we are now at the European Announce table.
Stone: It’s the cool kid’s table.
Bryan: I want to sit at the European Announce table.
Yale: THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS A EUROPEAN ANNOUNCE TABLE!
Storm: Shows what you know, Europe is like, a huge country and stuff.
Bryan: Can we get back to the match now? I think the referee has already signaled for the bell.
After checking to make sure Tyson DeBough and Arizona did not secretly hide any weapons in a dastardly scheme to cheat, the referee moves back to the center of the ring and signals for the bell.
DING-DING!
Going for a quick advantage, Tyson DeBough goes flying at Arizona, catching him with an Elbow Smash as he leaves his feet, knocking Arizona down to the canvas. Tyson kips back to his feet, getting up before the much slower Arizona can. Moving in, Tyson unloads several shots to his head before spinning and drops the Venice Beach Bum with a huge right hand. Tyson urges his back up, going to the ropes and using the momentum to nail a Clothesline on Arizona to take him back down for the third time.
Bryan: Tyson DeBough seems to be in complete control of the match thus far, really taking it to Arizona.
Yale: Oh course he is, JB, he’s a member of the most elite wrestlers on the planet. Arizona is so far from actual competition to DeBough that this is nothing more than a warm up.
Tyson grabs Arizona, trying to pick him up, but gets caught off guard by a rack to the face. Tyson stumbles back, leaving himself open for a big Running Knee. Coming off his feet, DeBough goes nearly the distance of the ring before coming to a crashing stop. Not giving up the advantage, Arizona walks over to him, stops, and then casually drops down for a Headbutt to Tyson’s shoulder.
Stone: I say ol’ chap, that smelly man sure it taking it to him.
Storm: Indeed, this is even more exciting than football! And I don’t mean that amazing American invention with lesbians.
Stone: BLASPHEMY!
Arizona picks Tyson up, hoisting him up onto his shoulder and running toward the center of the ring for an Oklahoma Slam.
Bryan: Big move right there by Arizona, who is looking surprisingly good!
Yale: Maybe a little too good…
Coming back up to his feet, Arizona sizes up his opponent before trying for an Elbow Drop. Tyson, however, manages to roll out of the way and just avoid having his chest punctured by the point of attack. Tyson rolls to his feet, just beating Arizona, and catches him off balance with a Dropkick to take him back to the mat. Arizona tries to climb back up using the ropes but Tyson is there with a Leg Drop, causing Arizona’s neck to fall over the ropes. Tyson instantly grabs the lower rope and pulls up with pushing down on his leg.
Storm: Why that hooligan is cheating!
Stone: Dirty American!
Yale: Can we turn off their microphones? In fact, why do they even have microphones?
Storm: Good friends with the technician, ol’ bean.
The referee gets onto Tyson, letting him know he needs to back off, and for now Tyson agrees and releases his choke hold on Arizona. Stepping back toward the middle of the ring, Tyson suddenly breaks into a run and heads back toward Arizona. He lifts his leg, looking to again drop it across the back of the skull, but Arizona drops down to the canvas just in time and allows Tyson to hang the family jewels out to dry.
Stone: Well it’s a good thing he doesn’t use those, otherwise that might just hurt.
Storm: I do say so.
As a form of payback, Arizona grabs the rope that Tyson is straddled on and starts to yank it up and down to cause further damage.
Yale: Come on referee, do something! Those things are important.
Bryan: I’m sure there are women at home crying right now.
Yale: And they should be!
Arizona backs off as soon as the referee says something, allowing Tyson DeBough to get back to his feet. Slowly and gingerly Dice turns around, only to walk right into a Sidewalk Slam from the Venice Beach Bum. In their corner, Rikki Roxx is bouncing up and down, just begging for the tag. Arizona looks over at him, then to the crowd for their support. Pointing at the Rock God, the crowd in Oklahoma goes crazy. That is enough for Arizona, who walks over to the corner and tags him in.
Bryan: And now RIkki Roxx is in the match!
Yale: Come on, get up Tyson!
Heading over to the downed opponent, Rikki Roxx picks up Tyson only to be smacked by a right and promptly DDTed to the canvas. Tyson gets back to his feet, shaking off the cobwebs, and notices Rikki on the ground. He stands over him and rains down with a series of vicious stomps, absolutely punishing the Maestro of Metal.
Stone: Why he’s nothing more than a dirty yank!
Storm: Bloody hell, I hope that Rikki fella gives him a nice sweep kick in the stones.
Yale: Can someone shut them up?
Tyson picks up the fan favorite, looking to the crowd right before he jams his thumb into Rikki’s eye. The referee steps in, but the deed is already done and all he is left to do is scorn DeBough for the cheap tactic. But the Establishment member laughs him off and is already picking Rikki Roxx back to his feet.
Bringing him out to the center of the ring, Tyson locks him into a Front Headlock and wrenches away with a huge grin on his face. He lifts the Heir Of Hardcore into the air, holding them there as a mockery before driving him down with the LUCKY NUMBER SEVEN!
Yale: He got it, Tyson DeBough just knocked Rikki Roxx completely out of the match!
Bryan: Oh my, what impact, that was just sickening.
Tyson DeBough looks over at Arizona before dropping down for a cover on Rikki. Unfortunately for him though, nothing is holding Arizona back from coming into the ring and breaking up the pin. Tyson gets nailed in the back of the skull by a large boot and Arizona grabs Rikki Roxx, dragging him back to the corner.
Much to his dismay, Tyson gets back to his feet but can’t stop Arizona from using Rikki’s limp body to tag himself in.
Yale: He can’t do that!
Stone: And yet he just did.
Storm: Ha ha what crumpet and stones it is!
Arizona comes barreling in, but Tyson ducks under the massive Clothesline attempt. With an opening, Tyson starts to fire away with some lefts and rights into the ribcage until he pulls back in his fist in pain. Arizona takes advantage and nails Tyson under the chin with a heavy BUM RUSH!. Tyson drops damn near backflips over, stopping on his stomach and Arizona looks into his large stained red jacket to see what Tyson hurt his hand on.
A whiskey flask, which he promptly takes a sip from. The referee, noticing the foreign object, tries to take it away from Arizona only to have the hobo try to hold onto it dearly.
Storm: You can’t take a man’s fine liquor!
Stone: Although I sure could go for a nice touch of Scotch, aged, shaken not stirred.
Parts of the crowd turn their attention away from the ring, however, when a man comes walking down from the backstage area. Tyson rolls over in pain, holding onto his jaw, when he sees the person coming up the ramp. Slamming his first into the canvas, he looks to be cursing under his breath as he watches the man climb onto the apron.
Bryan: Who in the world is that?
Yale: I think it’s his partner!
Bryan: That must be the Fish we heard him talk about last week.
Yale: Well better late than never!
Tyson crawls over toward his corner and is able to lift himself enough to tag out. Over Arizona’s shoulder the referee is able to see the legal tag. "Fish" enters the ring just as the referee decides to release the flask. Victorious, Arizona holds it up and takes another sip of the whiskey inside. The brown liquor never reaches his tongue, however.
Bryan: Katahajime! He’s got it locked in!
Caught by surprise and still no Rikki Roxx to help him, Arizona is forced to tap out as "Fish" applies the body lock on. The referee signals for the bell.
Yale: Yes! Tyson DeBough wins! The Establishment wins!
Bryan: In a large part to this mystery partner.
Yale: How can you give that man any credit? Tyson DeBough did all the hard work. He just strolled in and took advantage!
Bryan: Regardless, Arizona looks hurt. That was just a brutal move there by Fish.
Letting go, "Fish" gets back to his feet and raises his arms. Tyson DeBough enters the ring, questioning him on where he was. The two exchange words as Chris and Markus leave their European Announce table to check on their friends.
Jordan White is storming the halls, buried in a black jacket. His belt is absent and he is drinking some branded soda that is finished and discarded with a nearly missed blind toss at a trash can. He meets the camera at a corner and it moves to follow him, bouncing jittery as the operator tries to match his pace.
Bryan: Our World Champion's had a head of steam tonight, and it doesn't look like LeStatt's the only person he's going to aim at!
Yale: Yeah, but who? He's not bright, but he's not dumb enough to go around making more enemies already. I mean, a World Champion that doesn't even take the time to recover from an ACWF match isn't exactly long for that title.
Bryan: If he has any heart whatsoever, you know exactly who he's going after.
Yale: That'd be the wrong enemy to make.
Right or wrong, good idea or bad idea; the camera zooms in on a simple placard, reading "Chris Bagwell," as Jordan knocks.
White: Yo. I know you're in there. Open up.
Only a few moments pass by before the door swings open, unveiling the angry face of the same name read on the placard.
Bagwell: 'the hell do you want, Champ?
Jordan cocks his head down and takes a step back.
White: Fuck on out your room, son. We gotta sort some shit out.
Bagwell's head drops about an inch and his eyes roll up at Jordan White with an expression that just screams "excuse me".
Bagwell: Let's just take a step back and make one thing clear. Two weeks ago, I would've let that comment roll right off my shoulders because I was trying to get myself a title shot. But instead of accepting my offer, you decided to go for a bit more of a sure-fire win against some schmuck. This week, there's nothing holding me back from slapping that filthy beard right off your face.
Bagwell takes a short step out through the doorway.
Bagwell: So I'll let you phrase your request one more time and I can only hope you'll have learned a couple manners in the last fifteen seconds.
The champion dips his chin into his hand, eyes darting briefly--to the floor, the walls, the ceiling, rarely ever to Bagwell. His head is nodding to some unknown rhythm, perhaps filing through options until one stands above the rest.
White: Yeah, yeahhh. Get the fuck on out your room, son--some shit to sort out. You want somethin' from me, get out here with it. I'm the cat with the belt, an' that means we're either doin' this how I want to, or we ain't doin' this, an' you can keep bitchin' 'bout how deservin' you are. Or whatever kick you're on. Aight?
Bagwell doesn't waste even a millisecond hesitating and steps right out into the hallway. He matches his nose to that of the champion, gleaming into his eyes with nothing more than an urge to rip the belt from his shoulder. Chris talks in a near whisper.
Bagwell: I don't care who you are. I'm Chris Bagwell and I'm the best guy on this roster. And the only reason I'm not wearing that belt is because you were too big a pussy to take me up on my offer. So don't you dare come walking in here and trying to call the shots, because like I said--this isn't two weeks ago and I don't have a basket of cookies waiting for you.
The champion shakes his head slowly, his voice rolling along the lingering remnants of his habits, nicotine and other.
White: What's with this buckin' up bullshit you got goin' on? Shrink your ass on back down and quit talkin' like anybody owes you shit--dare do 'ever the hell I want on my show. Don't matter what you say or what you think--you got no rights on my belt, an' a real small chance of takin' it besides--but you're gonna fuckin' listen, or you're gonna quit smashin' chicks at random. This ain't, this ain't up for discussion.
Bagwell responds with a smirk of his own and an attitude you tend to only find laced within a snotty rich high school blonde.
Bagwell: Surely you couldn't mean that sweet, innocent Ayake?
His rhetoric clearly apparent.
Bagwell: Contrary to what you may seem to think--this company does owe me something. Hell, it owes me everything. I've resurrected its radio. I've given it a Television champion and a former United States champion. And by all hell, I've gotten more people talking about this show than the New England Patriots' blown perfect season. And what exactly have you done, Jordan?
Another note of rhetoric. Jordan's eyebrows dance; he's smirking a shrug.
Bagwell: You've hid in the shadows and behind the back of Jay Terror long enough to get your name thrown into a main event you didn't deserve. And then you stole away the belt. So while you might be champion... you still ain't shit.
White stares at Bagwell without the slightest indication of a change in emotion.
Bagwell: And until I get what I want--people are going to continue to get hurt. I'll put a cast around every Goddamn member of the stage crew and make sure that this company can't operate. You can mark my words, tough guy.
White: Someone calls me that one more time tonight.
He laughs.
White: Don't it seem, odd to you? Like, for all your ability to hype, for all your skill in talkin' about yourself, I'm the champ?
Jordan cocks his head to the side, shrugging his shoulders.
White: You can run your mouth, an' you can be a liability to the cast an' crew, but you ain't a fuckin' wrestler. There's a lot of people in GCW that ain't get a title shot last show, an' you're the only one actin' like a baby 'bout that. I knew it was comin', I mean. I wanted to see what hysterical bullshit you'd pull, an' you've made it clear. You will make yourself look like a bitch to get what you want.
The champion glances away; Bagwell, seething, manages to not interject.
White: So yeah, I guess you hit a little nerve with this bullshit, this Joker act you're tryin' to pull. Whatever, man. Would givin' you a shot make you quit actin' like this tremendous fuckin' waste?
His eyes light up as Chris sees opportunity beginning to knock at his front door.
Bagwell: Giving me a shot, Jordan, would only prove one thing--that I deserve to be the champion.
White: Yeah. I'ma let you rephrase that one. Remember. This is on me.
Jordan smirks and it's as classical as it's ever been; he's channeling Paul Newman with every fiber of his being, wearing it proudly in opposition to Bagwell's antagonism.
White: Yes or no question. You want a match for my belt next week?, find out just how undeservin' I am? Yes or no--I don't want commentary. I don't give a fuck what you're thinkin' beyond if it's yes, or if it's no.
With his ego nearly bursting from his skull, Bagwell remains silent. Despite how badly he wants to answer with a catchy phrase or a sarcastic comment, he knows that his response dictates his fate in only one week's time.
Bagwell: Yes...
He mutters his words with a notion of regret for taking a command from the World Champion.
Bagwell: ...I want it.
But he soothes over his soul with a few extra syllables.
White: Close enough.
The smirk fades.
White: It's set, then. An', just so you know--this is the only time that you're gonna get what you want by bein' an immature little prick. Next time you try some shit like this--an' there's always a next time--I'm just gonna let you see how many people you can cripple before you get your negligient ass fired.
Bagwell holds his gaze but remains silent as he listens to the champion. He refrains from any sort of rebuttal, not wishing to jeapordize his first World Title shot in almost a year.
White: An' don't let your ego get the best of you, hard as that might be. I just think you'd be the best punchin' bag. Gotta make sure I'm ready for Knight, s'all this is.
The champion nods, cocks eyebrows, rolls his shoulders. He has stolen momentum from Bagwell, taken the reins away; the momentous nature of the occasion is not lost on him.
White: Anythin' else, or you just gonna tuck your tail and stay meek?
Bagwell: I think my encounter with Ayake earlier drove my point across fairly well. So for once, I'm going to let my actions do the rest of the talking.
Bagwell steps backwards into his locker room and wraps his fingers around the doorknob.
Bagwell: Now go and enjoy your last night with that belt.
He whips the door shut, leaving Jordan White staring at the very same piece of black cardboard he walked up to in the first place. Jordan leans backwards into the wall opposite the closed door, furrowing his scarred brow.
White: I got at least a week left with it. Shit.
He turns to the camera and shrugs, bringing us back to ringside.
Bryan: Jordan White is absolutely relentless! After Jay Terror's less than eventful tenure as champion, this young man is anything but hesitant to put his belt on the line, saving an untold number of GCW's crew from Bagwell's blind rage, his sound and fury--he's not going to gather any moss, that's for sure.
Yale: He's definitely reminding me of Vivica right now. Idiotic heroics, trying to give any plebian a title shot--not to imply that I don't think Bagwell deserves it, but Digimon? That was a slack choice and you know it.
Bryan: Yale. Listen to yourself. You were just as into that match as I was--Digital Mortality was an incredible challenge for Jordan to make it past, and because of that, he's still nowhere near 100% right now. For all the complaints waged against him in the first year of his career, Jordan White is making sure that that World Title is a more prestigious belt when it leaves him than when he first put it on.
Yale: A fool and his gold. Look. He's irresponsible, he's immature, he's irrational, and, above all else, regardless of what he says, he's scared. Digimon couldn't take the belt away from him, and now he's hoping Bagwell can keep him from having to go eye to eye with Knight come NC-17.
Bryan: If he can make it to NC-17, that'll be his third title defense since he won it at Dangerous Games. He's making the best of his time with GCW's most coveted belt, at a time when competition is stiffer than it's ever been. There's no question in my mind that he won't hold onto the belt as long as a Vivica or a Lia; but at this rate, he'll have defended it at least as much.
Yale: If he doesn't tear himself apart in the process.
Bryan: He's already tearing himself apart, Yale. The only question is how much gas he has left--and he still has an outstanding threat towards LeStatt Knight, so his work isn't done tonight. I can say for sure, however, that I'm glad Bagwell's reign of violence was hastened before it had a chance to pick up momentum.
Yale: Please. This "good guy saving the lowly employees" thing is ridiculous, especially after that namby pamby routine he went through with LK earlier--the kid's bought into Bagwell's plan full-bore, and next Worldwide, he's going to pay for it.
Bryan: What do you think LeStatt Knight thinks about this turn of events?
Yale: Probably the same as he thought about Jordan's defense last time around: he's trying to avoid the inevitable.
Bryan: And if you have to side with Knight or Bagwell on this...
Yale: My head explodes from the complexity. On the other hand, Bagwell and Knight at NC-17? That's a main event.
Bryan: You're delusional.
Yale: I'm incredible.
Bryan: My point stands. Now, as much as I've grown to like Jordan, I do have to wish he'd tone his language down. He's been incensed since he stepped into this arena tonight, but he needs to learn to restrain himself. He's never seemed so passionate, but you have to ask if he's not losing some of the control he always prided himself on.
Yale: Huh. I could be haranguing him about being a bad influence for the kids still, couldn't I?
Bryan: I'm not sure why you didn't jump on it as soon as got the opportunity, to be honest.
Yale: Well. He needs to wash his mouth out with soap--his brutal delivery of profanity doesn't come near Bagwell's nuanced approach to the art. He's going to burn out long before he's eligible for the Hall of Fame. He's a bum, JB. A bum.
Bryan: For being constantly contrarian, you're right occasionally. We'll see if he has what it takes to top Bagwell next Worldwide and, if he does manage it, how much he has left for Knight at NC-17.
Yale: He wasn't born with enough for LeStatt Knight.
Determination. Everyone with a pulse and common sense could tell you that a battle between Tessa Windsor and Andy Murray would probably come down to the wire, no questions asked. Every cent used to buy each ticket would be squeezed until the last drop of quality escaped from it, that’s for sure. A non-intending show stealing match was certainly on the marquee.
Andrews: This bout is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, hailing from Boston; TESSA WIIIIIIIIIIINDSOR!
"Bittersweet" by Fuel shattered the silence as Tessa walked out to yet another revolting reception. How rude? She must have though as she stood tall atop the entrance ramp like she owned the place. And in retrospect, she should. After manipulating Clyde Fox for the past month or so, Tessa practically has gotten whatever she wants.
Yale: Wow! She’s looking hot tonight JB!
Windsor’s natural swagger seduces the fan boys in the front row, and makes people squint just to catch a glimpse from the nosebleeds. However, even though Andy Murray presents a great challenge, the look on Tessa’s face can’t help but seem somewhere else. Like she’s focusing in on all the other problems in her life but neglecting the one that will be in front of her in a moment.
Andrews: And her opponent, from Scotland; ANDY MURRRRRRRRRRAY!
"Rise" by The Cult overtakes Windsor’s theme as the Scottish King of Cool barely has time to set one foot from behind the curtain before the arena erupts in cheers. It’s that kind of tenacity that will be needed to take down a fiend like Tessa tonight.
Bryan: And here comes Andy Murray! He looks ready to take on the world folks!
DING DING DING!
Murray looks across at his equally dangerous opponent. The small, but crafty Tessa looks pitifully back as if already sorry for what she’s about to do. Finally, Murray walks to the centre of the ring and extends his hand as a gesture of good luck. Tessa doesn’t even bother walking to the centre. Instead she leans back on the ropes and shakes her head no.
Bryan: Some things never change Dave.
Yale: Yeah, I don’t know if Andy will ever realize he’s a loser!
Bryan: That’s not what I meant…
Murray lets his hand fall back by his side with a rather surprised look on his face. Why do you mock me? The question of choice that must be ringing through his head. After taking a step back from Windsor, she approaches Andy. She smiles like the devil and extends her hand out to him.
Bryan: I don’t like the looks of this.
Being the accepting guy he is, Andy graciously clasps hands with Windsor.
Yale: See? This is how much of a sportswoman Tessa is.
She goes to violently pull back, however, the two-hundred-something pound frame of Murray anchors him down. He laughs, as he knew a trick was coming. He pulls Tessa back in towards him and levels her with a clothesline. However at the last moment, Windsor ducks it and continues to the other set of ropes. She comes flying off of the ropes like a lion to its prey as she takes Murray’s knees out with a vicious chop block.
Yale: Murray just got outsmarted!
Bryan: I don’t think he got outsmarted Dave. He was expecting that all along. Tessa just squirmed out of it.
Trying to make extremely quick work, Tessa pins Murray.
…1!
…Kickout!
Not even getting the dramatical two count, Tessa turns to the ref and argues with him. Murray surfaces to his feet as they renew battle. Murray swoops in with an attempted grapple, but the slippery Tessa escapes once more. She counters with a few hook jabs, followed by a spinning heel kick that downs Murray. The thud on the canvas sends shivers down Murray’s spine as the high-octane fireball known as Tessa Windsor seizes full control.
Bryan: What’s she up to now?
Yale: Looks lie she’s heading to the top rope for a little aerial assault!
Indeed David Yale was correct. Windsor springs herself upward and delivers a huge diving moonsault that nearly misses! The move manages to catch most of Murray’s lower body as Tessa grabs her exposed ribs afterwards. She is quick to jump on the pin however.
…1!
…2!
…Kickout!
Murray manages to thrust his shoulder off the mat at the last moment in order to stay alive. Tessa rolls off of Andy, still holding her sore ribs from the previous high-risk move.
Bryan: I hope Tessa’s okay. She wouldn’t want to be hurt for her big date with Clyde Fox later tonight, would she?
Yale: Yes! I think she can’t go now! I can’t believe I’m going to say this but, I kind of hope Murray hurts Windsor. Overall, that would be a lot less painful than going to dinner with that goofball.
Even though this was causing her physical pain, this match allowed Tessa two things. An escape from the annoyance of Clyde Fox, and the chance for her to take out her pent up frustration. For Andy, it was a chance to yet again show why he’s a superior being in GCW. The match wore on.
Yale: I can’t believe Murray is standing. His legs certainly took the brunt of that moonsault. Tessa’s going to have to zone in on his legs if she wants a quality chance of winning this match.
As if she heard him, Tessa did just that. Targeting the legs of a much stronger foe, Tessa rolled across the ring and leg swept Murray. The strong legs of Andy somewhat secured him to the mat, however he couldn’t help but fall to a knee.
Bryan: Tessa’s really rambunctious tonight.
Yale: Something Clyde won’t see by nights end.
The fiery phoenix latches on a sleeper hold as Andy tries to collect himself. The crowd tries to invigorate their hero but Windsor will have none of it as she tightens the hold. Just watching it, you feel your airways being pinched.
Bryan: Now Tessa’s biting Andy’s ear! What’s next?
Yale: Anything to grab the advantage JB!
The volatile vixen enforces her will at full strength as Andy Murray chokingly screams. He tries to reach around and grab an itch that is just seemingly un-scratch able. Tessa maintains the hold until Murray rises up to his feet. The hopeful fans watch as Murray jumps to his back, but the sly Windsor lets go of the hold and escapes just in time leaving Murray free and clear to hit the canvas. Tessa goes for the pin…
…1!
…2!
…Reversal!
…1!
…2!
…Kickout!
Tessa saved her strong effort so far by squeaking out of yet another predicament. Murray holds his head in frustration as he almost scooped out a victory from what surely looked like defeat just moments earlier. The two frustrated stars regain their composure and continue the fight.
Bryan: Windsor just kicked Murray in the face!
Yale: He should be counting his teeth after a blow like that!
She goes for another foot-in-mouth kick but this time Murray is able to grab her leg. He rises up to his feet and ducks the attempted enziguri. Maintaining the literal foot hold on Tessa, Murray turns it into a half Boston crab!
Yale: Yikes! A one legged Boston crab on the Boston native!
Bryan: I don’t know if Tessa will be able to get out of this one.
Like a snake on the run, Tessa tries to slither her way to the closet set of ropes. Inching nearer, and nearer, she reaches out only to be dragged right back to the centre of the ring! The crowd starts into it with a "You’re a slut!" chant directed obviously to Tessa.
Bryan: Could this be the one mistake that costs Tessa the match?
Yale: Every time she gets close enough to the ropes, Andy just drags her back into the center.
She reaches out yet again and comes so close before being dragged away again. Suddenly the crowd explodes in cheers as Clyde Fox jumps out from the crowd and hunkers down beside the ring out of both the referee and Murray’s sight.
Yale: What’s he doing down here? Shouldn’t he be getting ready for his date?
Bryan: There’d be no date if Tessa couldn’t walk… I guess he’s covering his investment.
Tessa crawls over to the rope one last time. Clyde stands up and reaches out for her hand to try and help her to the rope. She screams in surprise as that was the last thing she thought she’d see. Fox reaches out and snatches Windsor’s hand and tries to drag her closer, but she resists and begins to flail around like a fish out of water.
Yale: This isn’t good JB!
She inadvertently smacks Clyde who falls to the ground and once again out of sight. She refuses to quit pounding the ground in hopes the Fox would go away until…
DING DING DING!
Yale: What!?
Murray breaks the hold and raises his arms in victory.
Yale: What the hell just happened!?
Andrews: Here is your winner, via submission; ANDY MURRRRRRRRRRRRAY!
"Rise" by The Cult hits as the obligatory Andy Murray celebrates what he thought was a clean victory. Little did he know that Clyde Fox was trying to help Tessa, and therefore made it seem like she was tapping out.
Bryan: I don’t think Andy knows what’s going on. Clyde came to help his "love" and it only ended up costing her the match by accident.
Yale: She was pounding the ground… the ref didn’t see Fox so he must’ve thought she was tapping out… when in reality she just wanted Fox to go away like a bad dream! I don’t believe this!
Bryan: You can’t blame Clyde here though. Tessa has misdirected him ever since Dangerous Games!
Yale: Are you kidding me? Tessa has told Fox to his face week in and week out that she’s not interested! He clearly hasn’t gotten the message!
Bryan: I wonder if this puts their date in jeopardy?
Tessa rolls out of the ring and stares Fox down. Clyde puts his arms out in an apologetic manner. She nearly tears her hair out before stomping away angrier than ever before. Fox yells out something that the camera’s microphone picks up.
Fox: Pick you up at nine!
Bryan: I wouldn’t want to be Clyde Fox later tonight… that’s for sure.
Bryan: Well fans, it’s been another evening of hard-hitting GCW action already this evening, and we’re not even halfway through yet!
Yale: Tell me about it. We’ve still got two blockbuster matches ahead of us; a much-anticipated main event between Zacharia Taylor and LeStatt Knight, and our next clash; Andy Murray vs. Tessa Windsor!
Bryan: Speaking of Andy Murray, let’s talk about the Scottish King for a minute. Here’s a guy who’s had a rough time of it recently. It seems like day after day there are more and more people wanting to step up and challenge the man’s dedication to the ethical side of this business. He’s always done a good job of deflecting his detractors in the past, but it would seem, recently, that perhaps a few cracks are starting to show.
Yale: Andy Murray lives in a fantastyland, JB. He wants everybody to get along and everyone to be the perfect sport, and he’s slowly releasing that professional wrestling isn’t the box of delights that he thinks it is. His rose-tinted glasses have been trampled into the floor, and it’s opened him up to all kinds of mockery and besmirchment.
Bryan: On the other hand, it just goes to show how far the Scottish King has really come since joining GCW. He’s forged such a strong identity that even guys like Jacob McKail, who are arguably a couple of notches lower than Murray in the pecking order, want to take a pop at him these days.
Yale: And that’s not an enviable situation to be in, JB. Aside from Jordan White, there isn’t a single guy on this roster that you could credibly refer to as Andy Murray’s "ally". His beliefs and strict adherence to the rules and tradition of this sport have left him with a massive target on his back. Now everybody’s gunning for him.
Bryan: An-… wait, hold on a minute! I’m being told that the Scottish King is backstage now, still seeking out the ever elusive Jay Terror! Let’s take it to the back…
The Megatron flickers into life.
Cue a thoroughly annoyed Scot power-walking through the corridors.
Cue pandemonium in the locker-room area as ring crew members do their best to scuttle away from the rampaging Murray’s warpath.
Cue Jay Terror in a darkened room somewhere, laughing.
Yale: Well, I guess he hasn’t found him yet!
Bryan: Who knows if Murray even knows Jay’s in the building…
The Scottish King of Cool turns a corner and sets about disrupting flight cases and crates, leaving no stone unturned in his pursuit of the former World Champion. The commotion is immense and the noise is too thunderous to ignore as he crashes through every nook and cranny of the corridor with reckless abandon.
A group of people watch with morbid curiosity, one of them significantly more interested than the others.
She steps away from the gathered lackeys and walks towards the Scot without the slightest hint of trepidation as the ring crew members exchanging hushed whispers of concern. But she knows what she’s doing and soon enough she’s but a few feet from Andy Murray, stopping in her tracks with a flick of her red-streaked blonde hair.
"Looking for something?"
Her voice is like a fire hose to the raging flames of Andy’s anger. Suddenly disinterested in the wanton destruction surrounding him, Andy glances up and catches Vivica J. Valentine dead in the eye.
Bryan: It’s Valentine! The Fearless Phenom! This could be an interesting one…
Yale: These two have endured a somewhat up-and-down relationship ever since Valentine betrayed Murray’s trust in the Dangerous Games match last month.
Bryan: Which is true, but you fail to mention the fact that Valentine performed fantastically well in Murray’s corner in last week’s "throw in the towel" match! But has she earned the Scotsman’s trust, that’s what I want to know?
Yale: Can this scatterbrained Brit trust anybody at the moment, the state he’s in?
Murray: Terror. You seen him?
Valentine: Well he sure isn’t going to be conveniently hiding behind a crate in the locker-room’s main thoroughfare, that’s for sure.
Andy huffs, probably coming across a lot more confrontational than intended.
Murray: Ha. Ha. Funny.
Valentine: Look, Andy, just calm down a little bit, okay? What’s stomping around here like King Kong throwing pieces of furniture and equipment around the place going to achieve other than making you look like Jay’s bitch? You do realise he’s probably sitting in a skybox with a glass of champagne in his hand laughing in your face right about now, don’t you?
He eases up, but only very slightly. The calming influence of the former Champion is enough for him to drift away from "HULK SMASH!" mode, at least for the moment.
Murray: I appreciate the concern, V, really, but right now I’ve only got one thing on my mind. And I don’t mean to be rude or nothin’, but all I wanna do right about know is smash that little bastard’s skull in…
Valentine: And how are you going to do that? Even if you do find him, you know that his minions Jackson and DeBough are going to be lurking just around the corner. You know that the minute you lay hands on him, they’re going to tear you limb from limb. If you do this own your own, he’s untouchable…
Murray: Guess I’ll take my chances.
He doesn’t put a lot of thought into his words, or his actions, for that matter. Andy attempts to walk away, to breeze past Viv, but Valentine won’t allow it. She deliberately stands in his way.
Valentine: Damnit, Andy. You’re almost as thick-skinned as Jordan is. Don’t be an idiot. The longer you stomp around here, the longer you’re going to wind yourself up, and that’s exactly what he wants.
Murray ties to turn his head away, but Valentine’s voice persists. She won’t allow him to ignore her.
Valentine: Listen; I know exactly where your head is right now. I’ve been there before. I’ve fought Jay more times than I care to remember, for a lot longer than I care to remember. I know what he’s like, I know how he operates, and I know how to beat him. But right now? He’s walking all over you.
Murray: … I-. Shit.
He bows his head. Shakes it. She’s right, but he doesn’t want to admit it.
Valentine: Just take a step back and be the Andy Murray that drove Thom LeStrange from professional wrestling and exposed Chris Bagwell for the fat-headed retard we all knew he was. You’re a bigger and better man than Jay Terror, I have no doubt. But if you keep going on like this, letting him stick inside your head, then you’re going to burn out before you know it.
Murray: I don’t know, V. I don’t know. I’ve been fighting idiots like Jay Terror all my career, but there’s something about this punk that really boils my blood. I mean, there’s nothing special about the kid, he’s just your typical ass-kissing parasite on the surface. Just can’t put my finger on it.
Valentine: I know. Trust me, I know.
Andy sighs, showing the first signs of relaxation on GCW television since before Dangerous Games.
Murray: Maybe you’re right. Maybe I need to slow down a little. I mean, I know I can beat this fool; if I get him alone, one-on-one, I’ll toss him around like a ragdoll. Shit, if I can beat LeStatt Knight, Jay Terror should be a piece of cake.
He cocks his head from side to side, eyes meeting with Vivica’s.
Murray: And I forgot to say; thanks. You didn’t throw in the towel last week and I appreciate that. Guess you and I got off on the wrong foot, what with what happened at DG and all.
Valentine: Well, I’m not so hot on the whole "apology" front, but I feel like I owed you one. After all, there’s a lot of nasty guys on this roster working together behind our backs, maybe it’s about time some of us good guys starting look out for each other a little.
A smile crosses her lips. Subtle but definitely there.
Murray: Hell, that sounds all fine and dandy. Just as long as I don’t have to share a room with Garbage Bag Johnny or anything; his whiff is somewhat off-putting. But hey; what’re you doing hanging around here anyway? I figured you’d be too busy making good old Mr. Bagwell looking like a sissy little bitch right about now.
Vivica shrugs as another source of common ground comes to light.
Valentine: He does a pretty good job of that himself, as you know.
Murray: Ha. Yeah well, seeing as you’ve just worked the whole "wise sage" thing on the Terror-front to perfection just there, anything you want to know about Chris Bagwell, look me up. I could write a book on making that guy look like a douchebag…
Valentine: When I start to perceive that numbskull as a threat, I may just take you up on that offer. Take it easy, Andy. And don’t go doing something stupid just to prove a point, ‘cause own your own, taking down the Establishment’s gonna be a pretty tall order. But with the right people watching your back? I think that task might just become a tad easier…
With that Vivica J. Valentine slinks away through the arena, leaving Andy with a relative sense of calm lingering.
Bryan: Well it looks like Valentine and Murray are on the same page after all!
Yale: I don’t like either of them, JB, but it does look like Valentine’s finally talked some sense into that thick-headed idiot. It’ll save him a lot of money on hospital bills, at least…
The Megatron cuts from the ring to backstage near the locker rooms. The center of the Megatron is someone’s scarred back. The camera zooms out a little bit to reveal someone in a hood. The man that is the sole focus of the camera starts to squeeze his hands and release them, one of the newly familiar habits of Zacharia Taylor.
The camera pans to the left to show Garbage Bag Johnny’s locker room, which goes by unnoticed by Taylor. The camera still stalks behind him.
Bryan: I don’t know why we are following Zacharia Taylor around because it doesn’t even seem like he knows that he’s even being followed!
Yale: I don’t know, JB. He may know, he’s run around GCW plenty of times with a scheme at hand.
Bryan: What could he possibly be doing right before his match?
Yale: I don't know, but it kind of feels like he's waiting for something.
The Megatron changes cameras to a corner shot, without anyone there, but footsteps can be heard. The cameraman shifts slightly and a mumbling of a voice is heard. The footsteps grow louder and a shadow appears in the corner, than Zacharia Taylor. Taylor looks down at the cameraman perplexed. He walks past as the camera follows him. Taylor looks into the camera and then his eyes go wide and quickly turns around but it’s too late. A white cloth goes over his mouth and his eyes roll into the back of his head.
Bryan: What the . . .
Taylor slowly looses consciousness and bends down as his feet fall out from under him, revealing the beaming face of Garbage Bag Johnny. GBJ shrugs and takes a whiff of the rag himself, but it doesn't knock him out cold due to his knack for building up tolerances.
Yale: Has he lost his mind?
Johnny grabs him from under his arms and drags him back through the hall that he came from. Johnny and the limp Taylor are followed by the camera all the way into GBJ’s locker room. Taylor’s head hit’s the frame of the door solid and then is dropped in the center of the room next to a chair. Johnny grabs a small rope and then puts Taylor onto a chair. Johnny ties Taylor's hands behind the chair and then moves to the feet. He walks over to a bag laying on a bench.
Yale: I didn't know that's how Garbage Bag Johnny got his jollies.
Bryan: He's not getting his "jollies." He's getting revenge.
Yale: He looks like he's done this before.
Johnny grabs smelling salts and puts them under Taylor’s nose and the hogtied Taylor coughs and jumps to life. He looks around in a panic and shakes his hands and then sees Johnny. Taylor smiles and relaxes, looking down at the ties.
Taylor: I’m impressed, I haven’t even gone down to this level, but then again, the box trick was close.
GBJ: Fair's fair, right? You stopped my match with McKail, and now you won't be able to wrestle your first main event match.
Johnny smacks Taylor across the face, taking away his smirk, only momentarily.
Taylor: Wow, this match at NC-17 is going to be cake if that’s how you’re going to be hitting.
Johnny tenses up and punches Taylor across the face, instantly putting a red mark on his forehead.
Taylor: That’s better, but can I give you some advice?
GBJ: Enlighten me.
Taylor: Don’t hold back!
Johnny laughs and leans to the side and then comes across with a stiff backhand. Taylor licks his lips.
Taylor: I don’t think you heard me. DON’T HOLD BACK!
Johnny cracks his knuckles and then hits Taylor in the stomach. Taylor starts to cough uncontrollably and tenses up the best he can to minimize the pain.
GBJ: Now, I'm not going to lie and pretend that I enjoy hurting people. That's not why I'm here. But if I'm going to be honest, I might as well be honest, cause I can't pretend I'm not enjoying this. You should have left me be when you had the --
Taylor: I think I [cough] had every right to come after [cough] you! You took my belt while [coughs several times] I was knocked out.
GBJ: -- chance. I'm a fighting champ, and you'd have had a spot in line.
Taylor: I will get my belt back.
GBJ: I think Knight is going to have to wait tonight, but I think he'll understand. Me and him go way back. Why, I remember I was handcuffed to him the night I won the most impractical belt I've ever worn. It may not keep my pants up like a length of rope will do, but I have gathered quite a bit of attention from magnets lately.
Johnny laughs and then kicks Taylor extremely hard in the chest, sending the chair backwards, sending Taylor to the floor. Johnny turns back to the bag and starts to go through it.
GBJ: Anyway, I've got something special planned out for you.
Bryan: I don’t think we want to know what’s in the bag.
Yale: Taylor never took it this far!
The cameraman walks forward and looks into the bag. A blindfold, a lighter, tape, a can of WD-40, a bong, a bag of like oregano or something . . .
GBJ: I think I’ve learned more from you than I wanted to believe. So I wanted to really take you up on that offer from earlier and went to the store, but this is going to be so brutal that I don't think I'll even be able to watch it.
Johnny applies the blindfold to himself and fumbles around in the bag. He grabs the lighter and the can of WD-40, flicks the light on and tests his homemade blowtorch.
GBJ: Well, it feels pretty hot. I think it's working!
Yale: He's gone. This man has completely lost it. He's operating a fire based weapon with a blindfold on. I'm calling the fire department right now.
Bryan: Yeah, he's going to get us shut down.
GBJ: You are really going to pay for the box, threatening me, and stalking me the past month. That smirk of yours… well, needless to say, is going to be gone…
Johnny turns around and starts walking towards the chair, but as soon as he takes a step forward, something catches him. Johnny pulls up his blindfold, and before he can look down, he sees that the chair is empty. The ropes used to tie up Taylor are now tying Johnny's shins together.
GBJ: Are you fu --
Bryan: Well it looks like Taylor got away from Johnny.
Yale: But what does that mean for Johnny? Look at him, he’s actually looking worried.
Johnny looks around the room, still holding the WD-40 and the lighter in his hands.
Bryan: He may have just opened up a can he never wanted to open.
Yale: Either way, next week is going to be insane.
Bryan: Not to mention NC-17!
It was already a catastrophe. From the plastic flowers, to the night that preceded it. Clyde Fox’s date was doomed from the start. He grabs his lip gloss, a hanky and his Gizmondo before heading out of his locker room. He was determined to make the night turn around.
Yale: I can’t believe he’s still going through with this JB. Especially considering how Fox ruined Tessa’s match earlier.
Bryan: Maybe Clyde views this as a chance for reconciliation… ?
Clyde steps out from his room making more than a fashion statement. Sure, he’s decked out in a Tuxedo (rented of course), but Fox is out on a mission. Operation: Tessa Windsor’s Pants. He slowly but surely makes his way over to Tessa’s room. He knocks gently and awaits her presence.
Yale: What makes him think she’ll even answer the door?
Sure enough after a few moments, the door creeps out and out walks a mum Tessa dressed in regular old street clothes.
Bryan: She did make a promise Dave.
Yale: I stand corrected.
Fox: You wook buuuutiful Tessie! Here, I bought these for you.
Fox shoves the plastic bouquet of flowers in Tessa’s face. After being forced to take them, she throws them into her room before locking the door behind her.
Fox: All ready Tessie?
Of course she was. This had to be the biggest deal to her ever. She probably couldn’t be more enthusiastic… not.
Windsor: Ready as I’ll ever be…
Clearly she as focused on what happened earlier in her match. Looping it over and over in her head didn’t help that much either. As the night progresses, one can only assume it’d eat away at her more and more.
Fox: I thought you were going to wear a pink dress. But that’s okay; you look good in that too.
It’s no lie. Tessa could make a freshly butchered slab of meat look sexy. However, she was not receptive to Fox’s compliment.
Fox: I’m sowwie about earlier Tessie. Tonight will make everything in our past much better. I pwomise.
They walk off into the distance where a limo awaits. They pile in as the camera fades momentarily. Once the scene is revived, the limo pulls up only half dozen feet away… at one of the Arena’s hotel / restaurant hybrids.
Fox bursts out of the limo with his hands shimmering in the air.
Fox: Taaa daaaaa! We’re here!
Tessa gets out as quickly as possible and tries to remain out of the spotlight. The less attention she draws to herself, the better.
Fox: Yeah you go ahead and act all shy. Ell oh ell. You’re just lucky that I rented the hot tub suite for later… maybe you’ll let your wall down then.
Thinking he’s a player, Fox dances toward the door, but not before tipping the limo driver a Benjamin.
Yale: JB! DID HE JUST—
Bryan: Just thank the lord Tessa didn’t see that.
They enter the restaurant together and get seated right away. Fox sits on his hands as Tessa stares directly at her glass of water, not interested nor impressed.
Fox: I’ll beee areee beee otay Tessie? I have to tinkle. Don’t go ordering anything expensive now!
Fox rushes off to the washroom as Tessa mutters something under her breath.
Windsor: How can I? The most expensive thing is ten dollars.
Does it look right? What about now? Okay... what about now?
Fox fidgets around with his necktie in hopes to get it right. The imitation marble counter reflects the sweat that is glistening from Fox’s forehead as he wrestles with his tie.
Fox: Damn tie. Straighten out will you! I have to look proper to impress Tessie.
A bleak hope at that, but nevertheless worth every inch of effort to Fox. Clyde finally settles down and heads back out of the washroom. Tessa was sitting impatiently at the table, trying to remain focused.
Fox: This seat taken?
Fox jokes as Windsor deflects the stupidity.
Windsor: It is actually... and God forbid it’s yours.
Fox: Oh Tessie, stop being a sour sap. I really appreciate you coming out with me tonight. You know Tessie. I gotta say it…
Fox continues as he tucks in his napkin as a bib.
Fox: I wuv you Tessie. I think we were made for each other. Like bread was for a toaster. I wanna insert my bread in your toaster. Just think… we could make wonderful sandwiches!
Just then the waiter shows up.
Waiter: Hi there, I’ll be serving you guys tonight. I’m Fredric. What can I get you guys?
Fox: Tessie… it’s okay go ahead. Sorry Freddy; she’s a virgin. She’s new at things.
Tessa’s jaw nearly hit the floor.
Windsor: I’m not too hungry actually.
Waiter: Okay well I’ll just come back in a moment then.
The freaked out waiter scurries off and leaves Clyde oblivious to what just happened. Instead, Fox continues to read the menu like a good boy. Tessa’s face slowly boils to a bright red. All she needed was one last push and she’d be over the edge. She didn’t have to wait long as Fox began to pick his nose.
Windsor: I’VE HAD IT!
Nearly everyone in the restaurant stops and looks at the two.
Fox: You’re right! I’ve had it too! It’s time for two fingers!
Fox shoves his other finger in his unoccupied nostril as Tessa rises from her seat.
Windsor: You’re disgusting, stupid, irritating, dumb, illogical, rude, and not to mention a waste of life in general. I can’t stand you anymore Clyde! How can I explain it to you that I don’t like you!?
Fox pulls his mucus-covered fingers from his nose and looks ominously at Tessa.
Fox: What did I do Tessie?
Windsor: You follow me around week in and week out, asking for a date because I tricked you into liking me at Dangerous Games! Then you get a fluke win and I feel sorry for you… but you screwed it up! Tonight you thought you were helping me, when really you cost me the match! I hate you!
Tessa goes to leave but before she can, Clyde snatches her forearm.
Fox: Wait. Wait. I have a backup plan in case something like this happened.
Fox sinks from his chair to one knee.
Yale: What in the world is he doing?
Fox: Tessie. Will you marry me?
Fox pulls out the most expensive ring this side of the moon.
Yale: Are you kidding me!?
Bryan: That doesn’t look like any Chris Bagwell inspired toy ring… that’s the real deal folks. I think Clyde is actually serious!
Tessa can’t even compile a response to the thickheaded doofus before her. Fox’s eyes begin to glisten as he becomes more and more hopeful.
Fox: I really wanted to be engaged to you Tessie. I mean, it would suck if you said no because I took out advance paychecks for the next six months on this bad boy.
Windsor: Engagement!? ENGAGEMENT? The only engagement you and I will have is at NC-17! You better be prepared, because I swear I will leave you in pieces all across Arizona!
Tessa pulls away from Clyde and storms out the door. Clyde is left there… ring box open and on one knee.
Yale: So much for Clyde growing up.
Bryan: Leave him alone Dave, he’s still learning.
Fox: So… is that a yes?
The scene fades as Fox scratches his head in confusion.
His third clash with Tessa Windsor has clearly taken a lot more out of the Scottish King of Cool than previous battles had. She’d upped her game, turned the heat up several notches and brought a great battle to Andy’s doorstep. Of course, matches against the former US Champion were never easy affairs, but he’d never walked away from a Windsor match feeling so worn out before.
Bryan: Well, there’s Andy Murray…
Yale: AGAIN!
Bryan: … and what an excellent contest we just saw between Murray and Tessa moments ago. These two never cease to bring their A-game, and once again they’ve put on one hell of a show tonight.
Yale: Just how much of our air-time has this guy taken up tonight, though? We’ve seen him in the parking lot, insulting Jacob McKail, chatting with Vivica Valentine… and now here he is again, stumbling through the halls like Bambi.
Bambi may be something of an exaggeration; he’s hardly falling all over the place, but he’s definitely having more trouble than usual balancing himself. Wiping some sweat from his brow, Andy acknowledges a well-wishing "good match!" from a backstage worker with a quick nod.
Yale: So I guess he’s decided to stop stalking Jay Terror?
Bryan: Perhaps a combination of his earlier chat with Valentine and the opportunity to let out some of his frustrations in the ring has cooled Andy Murray down a little. But you can bet he still has an axe to grind with the Establishment member…
Yale: But here’s the thing; if Jay Terror doesn’t want to fight Andy Murray, then Murray is never going to have the chance to lay his hands upon him. He’s too strong, too powerful to be struck down, and perhaps most importantly, he’s surrounded by too many people…
"There you are!"
Andy’s head snaps upright.
Suddenly he doesn’t feel so tired anymore.
Red bandanna. Loose fitting blue jeans. Cocksure attitude and swagger.
Yale: … uh-oh!
Bryan: It’s Terror! What were you just saying, Dave?!
Yale: I-… yeah… shut up, JB!
Terror: I hear you’ve been looking for me.
For the first time in the evening, Andy Murray and Jay Terror are stood just metres from each other. Andy pulls the towel from around his neck and tosses it to the ground. With a fire in his eyes he steps forward, arching towards Terror.
Murray: Ahhh, Jay. So kind of you to show your face…
THWACK!
Without hesitation Murray swings his fist around, knuckles colliding with Jay’s jaw, sending the former Champion stumbling backwards. Andy is all over him like a rash, laying into Terror with rapid fire rights and lefts.
Bryan: And now Murray’s tearing Jay Terror apart! He’s taking him to pieces!
Yale: Somebody stop this! Murray’s going to kill him!
Bryan: This is it; this is what Murray’s been waiting all night for; sweet, sweet revenge.
The crowd roar in the arena, spurring Murray on as he backs Terror into a wall and chokes the life out of him.
Unfortunately for the King, when you’re dealing with The Establishment, such situations are never that straight-forward.
Bryan: WAIT A MINUTE!
Yale: DEBOUGH! DEBOUGH!
Bryan: Tyson DeBough jumping Andy Murray from behind now! The Establishment are playing the numbers game!
Andy manages to battle back from Tyson’s initial attack, thrusting him in the chest and stalking him like a hunter. He goes to swing for DeBough, but a certain former "Outlaw" puts a stop to that, taking Murray to the deck with a chop block from behind.
"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
Bryan: Typical! Just when it looked like Andy was going to get a measure of revenge, Tyson DeBough comes out of the shadows! And how it’s two on one, the Establishment beating the tar out of Andy Murray!
Sure enough, Terror and DeBough stomp away furiously, not allowing the big Scot the chance to get up. Andy tries to fight back but, having just got through a battle with Tessa Windsor, his body doesn’t allow him to do anything more than squirm under the blows.
Yale: You can call this an ambush, whatever. I just can’t believe how dumb Andy Murray is; how many times does he half to walk into situations like this before he learns!?
Jay backs off, leaving DeBough to continue the assault. Rummaging around a bunch of equipment behind the carnage, Jay pulls out a steel chair pulling it back over his head…
Bryan: Oh no… QUICK! SOMEBODY STOP THIS!
Yale: Yes! Do it Jay! Smash this fool’s skull!
Tyson backs off, but the very moment Jay tenses his muscles to bring the chair down on Murray, it is violently snatched from his grip.
"I don’t think so!"
Bryan: IT’S VALENTINE! Thank God! Vivica J. Valentine just saved Andy Murray’s ass!
Yale: Where the hell did she come from?!
The Fearless Phenom stands her ground, wrapping her fingers around the legs of the chair, bashing the edge of it against the ground. The combination of Valentine threatening a chairshot and the stirring Murray forces the Establishment to rethink their stance. They begin to back off.
Yale: Can you believe this?!
Bryan: After their little talk earlier on, I knew we hadn't seen the last of this Valentine/Murray union. And what a way for Viv to prove she's trustworthy!
As a seething Jay Terror edges further and further away from Murrentine, Andy clambers to his feet, holding the back of his skull in pain. He acknowledges Vivica with a quick nod.
Murray: Maybe you ain't so bad after all.
He turns towards Terror and DeBough. Parting his lips to speak, he stops just short of drawing a breath, for he has no need for words the sight of Jay's face flush with red anger is good enough.
Bryan: Haha, look at Terror! He's SICK, Dave!
Yale: What amuses me is that it took a woman to save "big tough" Andy Murray from Terror and Tyson!
Bryan: You've gotta chalk this one up as victory for Murray. He - well, Valentine - turned the tables on Terror, gave him a taste of his own medicine, and you know that the Establishment's top dog isn't going to be too happy about it...
The Megatron spins around the arena in Oklahoma City, showing the waves of fans bursting at the seems. Fans try to rush the barricades around the perimeter of the arena as Security steps up to hold them off. The camera swings around the ring across all four turnbuckles and then the Megatron fades in on the announcing table.
Bryan: What a night! As we head towards NC-17 things are starting to heat up. Everything to this point has been very exciting, but nothing is going to be more exciting than what we are about to see. The rising star, Zacharia Taylor is taking on GCW’s legend, Lestatt Knight!
Yale: An exciting match indeed, JB. These two faced each other which feels like years ago, when Taylor just made it into the US division. For a couple weeks after, Knight respected Taylor as he was looking up to the legend. But everything has changed since, neither wrestler is the same man that entered that ring some months ago.
Bryan: Taylor is on his way up the ranks, having an explosive year. He went from nothing more than a brute for everyone’s favorite Chris Bagwell, worked his way to TV Champ, and now is the number one contender for the US title! As things have become violent and destructive between Garbage Bag Johnny and Taylor, their long awaited match is just a few weeks away and who knows who will come out the victor!
Yale: You know I’ve had my ups and downs with Zacharia Taylor, but the kid has heart, and ambition, and I don’t think that anyone can deny that it will be a hell of a match between the two. I don’t know about you, but I think it is one of the most anticipated matches of NC-17. The only one that has more hype is with Taylor’s opponent tonight, Knight and White.
Bryan: I have to agree, David. Both men in the ring tonight are for the main event tonight, but it would be ignorant to think that at NC-17 these two won’t be the center of attention again!
Yale: Right, and with everything going on with Jordan White, I don’t know if words could encompass the energy between them. We have to keep our eyes open tonight though, after last week’s run in from Knight, and White promising blood tonight, Knight has a hell of a match on his hands.
Bryan: Taylor is no push over, so if he expects at all to make it to NC-17, he will take care of Taylor the best he can, while watching his back all the way to the lockerroom tonight. Jordan White is out for him, and you don’t cross the World Champion of GCW and get away with it.
Yale: Right you are, JB. Tonight is Zacharia Taylor’s first Main Event, and I would say that he is more fired up and ready than ever. These two powerhouses have been showing some really crude behavior outside and inside the ring. Both stalking their opponents like prey.
Bryan: Here comes the crew, the magic is about to begin.
Throes of jeers now as the lights cut out, the only light coming are the ones brought in from the flashing cameras scattered throughout. There's no music at first, just lyrics.
I-ya,
I against I,
flesh of my flesh,
and mind of my mind,
two of a kind but one won't survive…
The voice trails off for a moment before the pyro blasts through the air, sounding as if a bomb had just gone off in the arena. The lights come back on, music and lyrics both blare throughout the crowded arena. From behind the curtains walks GCW's most recognizable face, LeStatt Knight. The boos are instantaneous.
He looks out at the crowd as he strolls down the ramp, slightly nodding his head to the music as he moves. The Hall of Famer arrives at the ring and leaps up onto the apron but doesn't climb inside of the ring.
Andrews: …making his way to the ring, hailing from Mexico City, Mexico! Weighing in at 280lbs, he is a former GCW Television, United States, Tag Team and two-time World Champion as well as being a GCW Hall of Fame member… LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! THIS IS LESSSSTTTAAAATTTT KKKNNNNNIIIIIGGGGGHHHHHTTT!
only one of us can ride forever,
so you and I cant ride together,
can’t live or cant die together,
all we can do is collide together,
so I skillfully apply the pressure,
won’t stop until I’m forever...
one!
On the last lyric Knight throws both of his arms into the air and red pyro fires through the sky. Now LeStatt climbs into the ring and moves toward the centre, throwing a couple punches, but then goes against the turnbuckle, waiting for his opponent to come out.
The lights go out around the arena, except for a spotlight on Knight. Knight looks around, wondering what the light is about.
Work it, make it, do it, makes us
Harder, better, faster, stronger
Bryan: Who the hell is this?
N-n-now that that don’t kill me
Can only make me stronger
I need you to hurry up now
‘Cause I can’t wait much longer
A hypnotic beat comes over the PA With Kanye West’s voice booming out. Zacharia Taylor steps out slowly from the ramp as lights fly on around him. He slyly smiles and stops at the ramp, letting the music run.
Andrews:…making his way to the ring hailing from Clifton, New Jersey, weighing in at 210lbs and standing at a modest 5’8"…Previous TV Champion, Previous US Champion, number one contender for the US Title at NC-17. THIS IS ZAAAACCCCCHHHHAAAARRRRIIIAAAAA TTTTAYYYYLLLOOOOORRRR!!!!
A mix of cheers and boos, dominated by boos echo through the stadium.
Bryan: It seems like there are still some fans out there that like Taylor.
Yale: I’m not going to lie, JB, I’m one of them…
More lights start to come on while Taylor still stand at the top of the ramp, arms crossed, looking at Knight, smiling…
Out of frustration, Knight goes to the end of the ring, yelling for Taylor to make his way into the ring.
Bryan: Think he’s waiting for White?
Yale: I don’t think Taylor would throw away his Main Event match with an interference so early in the game.
Taylor slowly walks down the ramp, smiling, staring at the hall of famer. The music fades out and all the lights come on. Knight climbs out of the ring and stands, arms in ready position at his sides, waiting for Taylor. Taylor casually makes his way down the ramp and right towards Knight. Taylor walks right up into Knights face, Knight bending down to the man almost a whole foot shorter than himself, and they stare. One smiling, the other looking pissed off.
Bryan: Is Taylor taunting Knight?
Yale: I don’t know, different song, the way he’s walking out, I wouldn’t call it cocky, but… well, maybe I would call it cocky.
Taylor motions his head to the right, and Knight matches. Taylor walks around Knight and climbs quickly into the ring, then starts to crack his neck and bounce on his toes. Knight shakes his head, turns around and starts to climb into the ring. Suddenly, Taylor does a spinning heel kick and nails Knight across the face as he was trying to get in.
Bryan: I think Taylor just signed a deal with the devil!
Knight falls back, but as he hits, Taylor comes flying through the air, vaulting over the ropes and landing in a frog splash on top of Knight.
DING DING DING
Taylor quickly rolls off of him and delivers quick kicks to the downed Knight. Knight catches one of his kicks and pulls down hard, pulling Taylor to the ground. Knight gets to his feet and slides into the ring to catch his breath and clear his head. Taylor stands up and stares down Knight, still smiling. Taylor holds his hands up like Diamond Dallas Page and then flips his hands upside down. The universal sign for "pussy". The crowd goes nuts. Knight yells and Taylor slides into the ring and charges the massive man in front of him. Knight throws a punch but Taylor dodges it and comes in behind him. Taylor takes out Knight’s feet so he falls to the ground.
Yale: The toughest thing for Knight tonight is going to be that Taylor is not only becoming a hell of a wrestler, but he is also a very quick fighter. He’s shorter than most that are in GCW, but he is really strong, and really fast. You can’t deny his quickness, and that is something that Knight is going to have to stop before he loses his temper, and stamina.
Knight jumps to his feet and lands a solid uppercut to the unsuspecting Zacharia Taylor. Taylor falls back stunned but clears his head quickly as Knight comes in. Knight whips Taylor around, but Taylor counters and whips Knight into the turnbuckle. Taylor comes running in, jumping through the air but Knight wraps both arms around the top ropes and leans back with a massive boot into Taylor’s chest. Taylor falls to the ground and coughs uncontrollably. Knight picks up Taylor and lands a massive snapmare. He picks him up again and does a coop slam. The move wisens up Taylor and he loses the smirk.
Taylor, on all fours, waits for Knight to come in. Knight backs off, forcing Taylor to get up. Taylor stands up as Knight charges, Taylor ducks under Knights arms and slides around him. Knight turns around as he reaches the rope as Taylor flies at him spearing him into the ropes, forcing both men to fly through to the outside of the ring.
Bryan: Holy… What a hit!
Yale: I didn’t know Knight was that flexible!
Bryan: I think they just ripped a rope out of the turnbuckle…
Yale: Nope, still there.
Both men are very slow to get up, but Taylor makes his way up first. He slides around and puts a sleeper hold onto the kneeling Knight. He is about to lock in his right arm when Knight quickly stands up, leaving Taylor dangling on Knight’s back. Still determined to hold on, he tries to force his right hand in place but Knight grabs onto Taylor’s head and pulls off another snapmare! Taylor’s lets smack the side of the barrier and he lands awkwardly on the round.
Bryan: Did you just hear that hit? Taylor fell from almost seven feet in the air!
Yale: It looks like Taylor’s hurt!
Taylor rolls over, punching the ground and holding his shin which is bleeding. Knight backs off, eyes lighting up in forgiveness almost and he gets in closer to Taylor. Taylor screams out, silencing the crowd as he throws a barrage of punches at Knight. He whips him into the barrier, then into the ring, then into the barrier, then the ring again. Taylor takes Knight’s head and bashes it against the ring, causing Knight to fall. Taylor takes a few steps back, limping. He holds onto the barrier, then runs and slides into the ring as Knight gets up. Knight cracks his neck and smiles.
Knight slides into the ring and backs into the ropes. He starts to run and then does a flying shoulder tackle into Taylor, crushing him against the rope. The ref pulls Knight off of him and tells Knight to back off for a minute. The ref bends down to look at Taylor’s still gushing shin. Knight throws his hands up on the air and walks up to the ref who starts to argue back with him. Knight picks up the ref and suplexes him to the ground. Taylor looks up, shocked and he starts to climb to the top rope while Knight still yells at the downed ref. Taylor dives off in a swan dive and hits Knight in the back.
Taylor rolls up as Knight gets to his feet quickly. Knight runs in and lands two rights to Taylor’s face and misses on the third. Taylor gets behind him and does a belly to back suplex to the mat. Taylor slides on top going for the pin and looks around. He shakes his head in frustration as he looks at the fallen ref.
Bryan: Taylor’s trying to end this but the ref is out cold.
Yale: You can see the pain in his eyes. His shin is going to play a key factor in this match if it goes the full length.
Taylor gets to his feet and waits for Knight to get up. Knight slowly walks towards Taylor. Taylor throws a few strikes and then dives under Knights arms. He kicks the back of Knight’s knee, sending him to the ground and tries to put Knight in a full nelson, but his leg gives out, sending him and Knight to the ground.
Bryan: I don’t want to say it, but I will. Knight has the upper hand now, and it’s not going to be pretty.
Knight picks up Taylor and does a powerslam. He picks up Taylor again and does a hip toss. Taylor, trying to roll away gets caught in another grapple, thrown into a t-bone suplex. Knight, playing with his food, goes for Taylor’s legs but Taylor kicks up hard, knocking Knight in the face. Knight Falls back and Taylor gets up. Knight catches Taylor as he tries to run in, and whips him into the ropes, Taylor, gaining control, jumps into a superman punch, but as if in slow motion, Knight catches him in what seems like bench press, and launches Taylor over the top rope and through the air!
Bryan and Yale: HOLY F….
Taylor, helplessly flies out of the ring and smashes down onto the announcing table, shattering it into several pieces as papers fly in very direction. The crowd goes silent as Taylor lays motionless.
Bryan: You ok, champ?
Yale: I don’t think he’s moving…
Bryan: I was talking to you, but yeah, this doesn’t look good for Taylor.
The ref comes to and looks around. He looks confused and sees Knight looking out of the ring. He stands up and looks at Taylor, still bleeding from the leg, now bleeding from the mouth as well, laying on a crumpled table. The ref looks up at Knight lipping "did you do this?" and Knight smiles.
Knight climbs out of the ring and gets closer to Taylor. Taylor kicks his leg forward in a spasm like fashion and starts to spit out blood. Taylor starts to laugh, moves, and then falls back down.
Knight: Need a hand?
Taylor: Get it over with, pretty boy!
Bryan: Still a sense of humor even when he’s down.
Knight lifts Taylor up, then grabs the back of his pants and neck and throws him into the ring. Taylor’s back is all beat up and cut. Knight gets into the ring as the ref starts to yell at him. Taylor rolls over onto his back and tries to sit up. He wipes his mouth clean and crawls to the closes rope. He pulls himself up and stands there, waiting. Knight walks away from the ref and looks at the trail of blood leading to where Taylor stands. Taylor waves him on.
Knight walks in slowly and puts his hands up to grapple, slowly. Taylor quickly elbows him in the face, causing a trickle of blood on his lip, and then whips him into the corner. Knight, looking shocked falls into the corner, hard. Taylor runs up and lets lose a barrage of punches. He grabs Knight’s head and jumps up with knees to the face and chest. He whips Knight out of the corner, and the hall of famer stops himself mid way through the ring. Taylor runs at Knight and spears him to the ground. The loud thump is from Knight’s head hitting the mat. Knight slowly starts to get up, but Taylor lifts him up and does a pedigree, making Knight hit his head again. Now Knight stands, a little dazed. Taylor pulls off a snapmare, and then climbs the top rope. Taylor blesses himself and then dives off, elbow drops Knight.
Bryan: Taylor always seems to find energy at the end of his matches.
Yale: I think he really pulled a fast one on Knight here.
Bryan: Even though Knight is down, we can’t count out Taylor’s injuries.
Taylor gets up and picks Knight up. Knight doesn’t even look like he knows what’s going on. Taylor struggles, but gets Knight in a crucifix powerbomb.
Yale: This could end it!
Bryan: The Almighty Cross!!!!
Taylor takes a step forward, but his cut shin gives out on him, sending Knight down on top of him.
Bryan: His leg gave out on him!
Knight lands on Taylor, and then rolls off to the side. Taylor, knocked out, lays limp in the center of the ring. LeStatt sits up, pounding a fist into the mats as he cradles his forehead. He's standing, slowly, straightening his torso and straining against the impact of the elbow drop.
A malevolent grin cuts through his face as his eyes drift to the still fallen Taylor.
He grips the United States Championship's number one contender by the scruff of his neck, dragging him to his feet.
Bryan: Zachariah Taylor may be standing, but there's not a glimmer of recognition in his eyes! All Knight had to do was pin him, but...
Yale: ...but he wouldn't want to disappoint his fans like that, would he?
Bryan: If they're as bloodthirsty as him, I can see where you're coming from with that.
Knight shoves Zachariah into the turnbuckle, sandwiching him with a charging lariat. Taylor staggers forwards, seeming to regain some sense of self even without a total control of his motor skills, a total awareness of his center of balance.
Knight waits, hunched, poised.
Yale: He's going for it, he's going for it!
Zachariah looks up, regards the monster; and the monster, animal, beast, lurches forwards with an arm extended. Taylor ducks at the last second, catches a surprised Knight with a boot to the midsection on the turnaround. Favoring his bloodied and bruised leg, Zachariah positions the big man for a second attempt at the Almighty Cross.
Bryan: He couldn't pull it off before, but now may be his chance! His body's broken, but he's got all the heart in the world!
Yale: Taylor is a stallion, JB, a prime stud. We should be honored to get such a main event. Especially after last week's... happenings.
With a deep breath, his face scanning the audience, Taylor tries to lift Knight.
He doesn't budge.
Zachariah sends a forearm down into Knight's back, follows it with a double axe handle to the kidney region. He locks his arms beneath Knight's torso and tries again--nothing.
Bryan: You can see the frustration on this man's face--he's got GCW's indisputable legacy on the ropes, but between his leg and LeStatt's willpower, he just can't put him down!
Yale: Epic, JB. Simply epic.
Zachariah shakes his head, collapses forwards. A calmness washes his face and he resteadies himself, he tries for the third time--pulling LeStatt a few inches from the ground before the big man stomps his boots back to the canvas, standing up, flinging Zachariah straight into the air.
Yale: KNIGHTFALL! KNIGHTFALL! LESTATT CAUGHT HIM ON THE WAY DOWN!
Bryan: It's academic from here, Yale!
Sitting up, LeStatt leans to his side, draping an arm over the downed Taylor. The ref drops.
1!
2!
3!
Yale: And that was an absolutely devastating showing from both of these brilliant, brilliant men tonight. My heart stopped several times, JB.
Bryan: They gave it their all, but Knight came out on top, giving him a massive hit of momentum going into NC-17.
Yale: Not that he needs anymore, of course.
Andrews: Your winner, by pinfall, is LeStatt Knight!
The boos come from every angle, every corner, every crevice and cranny in the arena. LeStatt stands over the defeated Taylor, a snarl snaking his visage. He jerks his hand away from the ref and glances around, once, before heading to the apron.
A quick rise in female vocals.
The beat drops, and the crowd's cynicism becomes its opposite as Jordan White storms onto the stage, his title belt again backwards around his waist. Knight backs away from the ropes, motioning Jordan forwards. The World Champion is stomping, is wasting no time.
Bryan: Jordan White promised it, and here he comes! LeStatt Knight just went the distance, and now we've got to see if...
Yale: Jordan actually has what it takes to make good on his promise!
White dives headfirst into the ring; the crowd is roaring and there is next to no motion between champion and contender. Breathing, maybe. Security is beginning to swarm the ring; not climbing in. Waiting.
Yale: And Knight's not gonna give Jordan the advantage here!
The big man explodes at Jordan, landing a flurry that backs the champion into the ropes. Breaking a knife edged chop across his chest, Knight irish whips Jordan across the ring, charges in after him with a lariat that Jordan ducks, slides away from. Knight turns.
Bryan: SUPERKICK! JORDAN HAS LAID LESTATT OUT!
Yale: Hold on one second there, JB.
Jordan whips his head back after impact, turning to raise his fist to no one in particular. The fans roar for him until they don't; until they start screaming, raining boos. The World Champion turns and there is Knight, sitting up, running a hand back through his hair to pull errant strands from his face. Jordan's jaw is wide and he's shaking his head, eyes locked on the rising number one contender.
Bryan: He's nailed it again! LeStatt Knight has taken two 303.36s tonight, and he's already survived a match with Zachariah Taylor! That... my god. It's not enough to keep him down!
Yale: Knight is a freight train, and he's gonna make sure Jordan White understands that tonight! Nothing's going to stop that man in his pursuit of the belt.
Groggier, slower to rise; Knight throws an arm to the middle rope, pulling himself to his feet. His teeth are gritted, his lips flared. Jordan shakes his head, something of a smile beginning to creep in as he straightens his arms behind him, drops his jacket to the mats.
Knight saunters forwards, slapping his hands against his chest, backing Jordan away. The champion bounces on the balls of his feet, dipping his shoulders from side to side. He charges in; Knight easily sidesteps, lets Jordan continue into the ropes behind him. Jordan takes the rebound, springing off his feet and devastating LeStatt Knight with a flying superkick that absolutely spears the big man's throat. Jordan kicks to his feet, beckoning LeStatt Knight find his a third time.
Bryan: Knight is out! Jordan White has laid his opponent at NC-17 out tonight, and revenge has been laid!
Yale: Knight's down, but he's not out! He's still moving, JB, and as long as he's conscious, he's not going to let Jordan White come out on top!
Shaking his head, Jordan pops the buttons on his belt, pulling it away from his waist and laying the golden plate out across his forearm. Knight is crawling across the ring and the fans are on their feets, chanting Jordan's name at the top of their lungs. LeStatt rises into a slump, blue eyes barely having time to turn to Jordan.
Yale: Oh my God! Come on! LeStatt wasn't even off the ground and Jordan just planted him with that damned World Championship of his! Somebody's got to break this up!
Bryan: You sound a lot different when LeStatt's on the losing end.
Yale: Well. Yeah.
Jordan mounts LeStatt, holding the belt above his head with one hand, the other directing a thumb straight to his chest. The camera understands that he his mouthing "mine;" the microphones have no information on the subject as security delays scaling the apron, delays breaking things up.
Bryan: There he is, Yale, like it or not: Jordan White is GCW's World Champion, and he's going to be meeting Knight headlong from here on out!
Jordan sneers.
And he brings the belt down.
And again.
And again.
And again.
James Bryan is staring at ringside; security moves into action, grabbing Jordan as he holds the bloodstained gold in the air, pulling him away from the crumpled, the bleeding Knight. Jordan does not struggle against them; though he gets his kicks in at Knight's motionless form while he's in range.
Yale: See? See? Jordan's gone too far tonight, JB--too far! Do you know how much that belt weighs? Do you know how hard it is? He could've given LeStatt brain damage! This kid is wrong.
Bryan: He's. He's certainly showed the world what kind of hero he is.
Yale: You like it, JB? You think Knight had that coming to him?
Bryan: There are limits, Yale; and that's all I have to say about that. Jordan White has made his resentment towards Knight clear, and he's escalated this into a whole other level with tonight's onslaught. And that is all we have time for here tonight, fans--for myself, James Bryan, my fellow announcer, David Yale, and for all of GCW, this has been Worldwide 103. Join us next week, where Jordan defends that belt against Chris Bagwell on the final leg on the road to NC-17.
Yale: If Knight doesn't cripple the bastard as soon as he shows up.
The camera focuses in on the World Champion as he is dragged from the ring by a number of men in black; a zen calm across his face, the crimson smeared gold belt across his shoulder. The copyright comes in.
Fade.
