Post by Nathan Saniti on Apr 28, 2017 20:32:18 GMT -5
Thursday April 27th, 2017
Jerry Andrews: Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to Trauma 210!
The crowd pops loudly for the cameras, nearly shaking the rafters with their excitement!
Ace Anderson: Man, I can’t wait! This time of year always ramps up the adrenaline. I’m Ace Anderson...
Jerry Andrews: ...And I’m Jerry Andrews. What a show we have in store for you all today!
Ace Anderson: You ain’t kidding, Jerry! We have the second round of qualifying matches for the Icemann Invitational Tournament.
Jerry Andrews: Not only that, but the backstage is still buzzing with the landmark announcement that our NEW PCW President is none other than Loki!
Ace Anderson: You and a walking buzzkill. You know that? Seriously. You’re a cure for viagra.
Jerry Andrews: Well, I can’t wait to see what our new administration has in store for the Faithful.
Ace Anderson: And I can’t wait for you to get permanent laryngitis.
Jerry Andrews: Well, there’s no time like the present to test those vocal chords. It’s time to get the action started!
Match One
Singles Match
S.A.M. vs. Alexa Tamora
Referee: Manny Cruz
Sasha Greene: The following is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, she weighs in at 86 kg... ALEXANDRA TAMORA!!
The arena goes dark as the lights pulse in time with the music. With the lights pulsing a form can be seen kneeling on the ramp with one fist pressed against the stage floor. As the tempo increases and the lyrics begin the stage explodes in light and smoke as Alexandra Tamora leaps to her feet and raises an arm in the air.
As she strides confidently down the ramp she reaches out to the fans, slapping hands as she goes. At the bottom of the ramp she speeds up and leaps from the floor to the ring apron. The turnbuckles launch silver and blue streaks of fire as she lands on the apron. Turning to face the ramp, she stretches her arms out and rolls backwards into the ring.
Once in the ring she gives the far ropes a quick test bounce and comes back to the front of the ring, once more raising her arm with a confident smirk. As the music begins to fade she slides out of the ring to wait for her opponent.
Jerry Andrews: Here's a rather offbeat addition to Trauma, a young lady who has a very otherworldly vibe.
Ace Anderson: Here's a young lady that should invest in some heavy medication, I think you mean. I mean, do you even buy her story she's going around telling people backstage, about - time travel and machines and freaking robots and stuff.
Jerry Andrews: I cannot speculate on what she might mean, or if she's speaking metaphorically or literally. She's unique, you have to give it to her.
Ace Anderson: She needs counselling!!
Jerry Andrews: She did pick up a very effective win in the opening round of TIIT, you gotta give her that.
Ace Anderson: Sure, against Lunatic, the only person on the roster that could benefit MORE from a frontal lobotomy.
Sasha Greene: And her opponent, weighing in at 270 lbs... of American muscle... SAM!
SAM comes marching down to the ring, not overtly aware of how the crowd takes his serious patriotism. To his credit, some salute him back as he sprints into the ring and holds a hand up. The referee orders the bell rung.
Ace Anderson: I'm... not sure why... but something in this is stirring me to stand at attention.
Jerry Andrews: Maybe it's the American flag on every inch of his wrestling attire?
Ace Anderson: Love for your country is a beautiful thing!!
SAM and Alexandra Tamora both circle the ring before going for a tie-up. SAM immediately flings Alexandra halfway across the ring in a display of strength. Alexandra rolls to a crouched position and eyes the bigger SAM warily. She comes back towards him for another tieup, but gets thrown to the mat with the same result. Alexandra shakes her head in irritation, as she gets back up to her feet. She moves towards SAM, who smirks a little at the size differential between them. Alexandra sweeps in and gives him a kick to the hamstring, then another, and another. She tries for one more, but SAM grabs her foot and places a hand on her chest and physically hurls her across the ring. Alexandra, dazed, pulls herself up on the ropes. SAM tells her to come on.
Jerry Andrews: Not necessarily a knock against Alexandra, but there's simply no way around it... she can't equal the great strength and power of SAM.
Ace Anderson: The might of the greatest country in the world!
Alexandra ducks under SAM's outstretched hands and gives him a forearm shot to the mouth, then she lights up his legs with a few kicks, including a straight stomp right on the knee. Alexandra backs up to the ropes, but SAM gives Alexandra a back drop that sends her sailing high into the air and crashing down on the mat. Alexandra shouts in pain and holds her lower back. SAM lifts her up with ease and plants Alexandra with a scoop slam. Alexandra grits her teeth and hisses in pain, as she holds her lower back. SAM lifts Alexandra back up, clubbing her over the back a few times, which completely floors Alexandra. SAM irish whips her to the ropes, and as she comes back off SAM swings for a clothesline but Alexandra ducks under it and keeps running to the opposite ropes. She flings herself at SAM for a Thesz press, but SAM catches onto her in midair, holding her in a bear hug of sorts before lowering her across his knee with a Manhattan drop. Alexandra sits down on SAM's knee, as SAM pulls her into a facelock and drops her to the mat with a DDT. SAM then rolls over on top of Alexandra, attempting to lock on a standing camel clutch submission. Alexandra reaches out quickly and scoots to the ropes before the hold can be fully applied. The ref tells SAM to break the hold and he does, holding his hands up innocently. SAM lifts Alexandra up, and whips her into the corner. He comes in looking for a corner splash but Alexandra quickly slips out so that she's halfway onto the apron, sitting on the middle rope with her legs out. SAM hits the turnbuckle and staggers backwards. He turns towards Alexandra, to one side, and she tilts back and brings her legs up, connecting right in his face. SAM stumbles back, and Alexandra gets back into the ring. She gets a running start and then dropkicks SAM right in the knee.
Jerry Andrews: I think Alexandra has found her own strategy as a way to take SAM down.
Alexandra grabs SAM's leg and hooks his foot under her arm as if for a DDT and then drops back, slamming in on the mat. SAM grimaces and holds his leg and knee. Alexandra straightens the leg out and then drops a knee across the leg. Then she puts all her weight on it as she grabs his foot and bends upwards, twisting it. SAM groans and tries to push her off. He reaches for her, but she moves back out of his reach. The ref asks if SAM gives up, but SAM says no. SAM swings at her, but again Alexandra moves her head back, as she continues twisting upwards on his leg. Again, The ref asks if SAM will give up, but he refuses. Finally, Alexandra releases the hold. She gets to her feet and gives SAM a low straight kick right to the sternum as he sits up. Then she goes for a cover.
1... Kickout.
SAM gets to one knee, as Alexandra boots him down a little. Suddenly, SAM comes out with a European, err, AMERICAN uppercut that nearly knocks her head off. SAM gets to his feet, limping a bit. SAM turns Alexandra around and clubs her over the back. He hooks her head and lifts her up into a vertical suplex. He holds on for a moment, stalling and turning her around as he holds her up in the air in a display of strength, before bringing her crashing down to the mat. As Alexandra bounces off the ropes, SAM lifts her up onto her shoulder before dropping her with a powerslam. SAM covers...
1...
2... Kickout.
Alexandra rolls outside the ring to recuperate. SAM follows right behind her. After a moment, Alexandra starts to get to her feet. She makes her way around the ring. SAM pursues Alexandra around the ring. Alexandra comes around the corner where the announcer table is, and she jumps on the corner of the table just as SAM comes around the corner by the ringpost. Alexandra jumps back with a springboard forearm knocking her back against the barricade and knocking SAM back against the ringpost. SAM then launches himself forward going for a clothesline, but Alexandra ducks and SAM gets nothing but ringpost. As SAM backs away from the turnbuckle holding his shoulder, Alexandra takes him down with a boot to the gut and a gutwrench suplex! SAM rolls to the outside, and the ref is counting them both out. Alexandra rolls back in the ring, staring at SAM with intense focus. SAM, meanwhile, is pulling himself up. Alexandra goes for a baseball slide, but SAM moves out of the way and lets Alexandra go by her. SAM goes for a clothesline, but again Alexandra ducks. SAM and Alexandra both rise to a standing position as SAM wraps his arms around Alexandra's waist and powers her into the ring apron with force, as Alexandra screams.
Ace Anderson: That reminds me, I need to call my chiropractor, but I'm also shopping around. Do you know a guy?
Jerry Andrews: I think SAM can fit you in for a spine realignment.
The ref is at a count of 8. SAM quickly walks over and rolls in the ring and back out to break the count. SAM then rolls Alexandra back into the ring before entering the ring himself. Alexandra grabs her by him arm and attempts to whip him to the ropes, but SAM resists by planting his feet. He sends her into the far ropes with everything he has. Alexandra hits the ropes fast, so fast in fact that SAM can't get to his feet completely by the time she returns, and she grabs SAM around the neck before hitting a spinning neckbreaker on him in the middle of the ring. Alexandra rests, grimacing and holding her lower back. She slowly gets to her feet. Alexandra attempts to lift SAM up, and goes for a snap suplex, but she is unable to due to SAM's size and her weakened lower back. SAM lifts Alexandra up in a hanging chokehold, but Alexandra quickly kicks him in the side of the head as she tries to grab him, and then as she falls Alexandra trips SAM over like a drop toe hold. Alexandra then applies a falling leglock, contorting SAM's knee painfully. SAM screams, and flails her arms. The ref asks SAM if he gives up, but SAM refuses. Finally, Alexandra releases the hold. Alexandra gets to her feet in a bit of pain, and then as SAM pulls himself up he eats several kicks to the hamstring, and then to the midsection. SAM then fires back with a headbutt that makes Tamora stagger back. He paces around the mat for a second before charging at her. She meets him with a boot to the gut, and then DROPS him with a Glam Slam like move.
Jerry Andrews: She calls that the Final Descent!
Tamora reaches down and catches the inside leg, hooking it.
1...
2... Kickout.
Alexandra waits for SAM to get to his feet, and then grips his throat with both hands before powering him a short distance for a two handed choke bomb, cleverly named a Time Bomb. Alexandra, winded from scooping the bigger man up, tries to rest for a moment before she gets ready for another move. As she looks around to the crowd, attempting to lift SAM to his feet, SAM catches her under her arm and twirls her around in a beautiful Olympic slam.
Jerry Andrews: SAM with the Patriot Slam!
SAM goes for a cover.
1...
2... Kickout.
SAM, not missing a beat, whips Alexandra into the corner and follows her in with a corner clothesline. Alexandra slumps limply in the corner, SAM then pulls a nearly lifeless Alexandra out and pins her.
1...
2...
3... Kickout.
Jerry Andrews: I don't think SAM even knew just how much effort he would have to put out to defeat Alexandra.
Ace Anderson: Well, if she is to be believed, she should know the outcome of this already.
SAM grits his teeth and argues with the ref, telling him it was three. The ref assures him Alexandra kicked out. SAM has an intense look on his face as he lifts Alexandra up. He boots her in the gut and attempts to give her a powerbomb. He lifts her up in the air. Suddenly, she reverses into a victory roll pin. The ref count the pin.
Jerry Andrews: She may have surprised the big man here!
1...
2...
3... Kickout.
Alexandra slowly gets to her feet, and gives SAM a kick to the gut to double him over. She then straightjackets his arms around his neck before sliding around to his back and crushing him with a straightjacket lungblower.
Jerry Andrews: Time Crunch connects!!
Tamora drops down into a cover, hooking the leg.
Ace Anderson: Maybe this future was a foregone conclusion, after all!
1...
2...
3!!
DING DING DING!
Sasha Greene: Here is your winner... ALEXANDRA TAMORA!!
Tamora laughs as she gets to her feet. The referee holds her hand up.
Jerry Andrews: If you'll pardon the cheesy segue, I think we're seeing bright things in store for the future of this young lady.
Ace Anderson: Oh, god, time related puns are going to be a thing now, aren't they? So awful!
Jerry Andrews: Perhaps it's only a matter of... time... until she finds herself in title contention.
Alexandra Tamora holds her hands up in celebration with the crowd, as a dejected SAM collects himself in the ring.
The crowd is in post-match comedown mode and coming off a commercial break when the opening notes to "In The Morning and Amazing" by Circa Survive start playing on the PA. Kyle Shane comes gallivanting out onto the stage, carrying a mic and the Underground title belt. Kyle is dressed midway between ring gear and casual. Skinny jeans and Chucks, with one of his multiple t-shirts with a logo, this one an Assassin's Creed cover, but his wrists are taped like he's ready for a fight. Kyle looks around at the crowd with a smirk as he makes his way to the ring.
Kyle Shane: I've been lead to believe that little miss Olivia Xavier isn't in the building tonight, so first of all, I just want to say...
He turns and gives a jaunty wave into the camera, almost a fourth-wall break of acknowledgment.
Kyle Shane: Hi Liv! I want you to know I forgive you for that slap last week. And I've thought about it, in light of your disappointing exit from the Icemann Invitational Tournament last week, losing to the Wasp of all people, I can see you're probably sitting on your hands at home, waiting for an idea of what to do next. And you're probably disappointed because all the promise and fire you came in with has gone down the drain since you debuted. But don't worry, Liv... if you just come back to Trauma in a week or two, and hit me up, and we can work things out and be on the same page, then we'll get you back on track.
He smirks a little. But then as he looks at the faceplate of the Underground title in his hands, his face becomes a stern line of seriousness.
Kyle Shane: But mine and Olivia's drama last week had the unintended consequence of roping in someone who I felt had no business getting involved, so being the kind guy I am, I wanted to call him out here and we could hash this out, face to face. Hiroshi Yukio, I'm calling you out, big boy.
The crowd buzzes, excitedly, as they're not sure if Shane is being confrontational or not by calling out the massive sumo super-heavyweight. Thankfully, they don't have to wait long, as "The Rising Sun" by CFO$ hits on the PA. The crowd gets behind the swelling musical score as the titanic bulk of Yukio drifts into view through the gorilla position. Kyle looks nervous for the first time. Kyle looks at Hiroshi, nodding his head, as if gearing himself up. But, just to be a prick about it, Kyle has to taunt Hiroshi, because it wouldn't be Kyle Shane if he didn't get under your skin.
Kyle Shane: You know, by the time you're down here in the ring, I can run to Sonic and get us some snacks and be back before you're here. You want anything?
Hiroshi pauses, tilts his head, and laughs a little. He doesn't seem put off, he's genuinely amused. He walks down the aisle at his own pace and climbs up the steps.
Hiroshi Yukio: There he is, mister funny man. Our Underground champion. You've got a real knack for shooting off your mouth with those little zingers, Kyle. A lot of the time, it seems to land you in trouble. Take last week for example, you're out here running your mouth and berating that Xavier girl, and bragging about how you beat her, so you could beat anybody. You could climb any mountain, I think you said.
Kyle nods, not rising to the bait in Hiroshi's words.
Kyle Shane: That's right, I did say that, and I stand by that. Since my first match here in November I've overcome every obstacle put in front of me, whether it's three on one with Lunacy and his Anarchy goons or the contenders to my Underground title. I've succeeded where the last few champions in this division failed. This belt means something because I elevate it, and it elevates me. This right here...
He holds the Underground championship up proudly.
Kyle Shane: This is MY World title, and I'm taking it to the main events. Like I did last week, or this week when I stake my claim in the Icemann Invitational. So yeah, Hiroshi, I do rise to the challenge, I do level my stats up when it comes to a boss battle, and when it's time to throw a critical hit I always roll 20's. That's how I do.
Hiroshi chuckles a little bit at his hubris.
Hiroshi Yukio: Well, that's fascinating and all, Kyle... but I see some flaws in your way of thinking. First, you don't rise to the challenge EVERY time... like last week, when you were DEFEATED in the main event by Grimm.
This is a stab right into the ego of Kyle Shane, and he sputters out a few irritated word fragments.
Hiroshi Yukio: And that's the point, is that when you're up against someone stronger, more hardcore, and more violent than you, you don't have a chance in hell. You brag about what you've done in the Underground division so far, but you've just been facing Olivia Xavier. You have not faced me, Kyle. I am a force to be reckoned with in this division. I'm a former Underground champion myself. And since my return I have yet to be pinned on Trauma. Now can YOU say that?
Kyle glares at Hiroshi. Then he looks at the title, with a sneer coming across his lips.
Hiroshi Yukio: So if you want to talk about challenges, here's a challenge from me to you. If you got in the ring with me, there's no way you would be able to push me around like you did Olivia Xavier. Your little tricks won't hurt me. Your words won't get through my skin. And what can you even do to take me down? You saw last week you just don't have what it takes, and that was just a sample of what I can do to you, I left you crying on the floor. You face me for the Underground championship, I'll break you in half.
Kyle turns away from Hiroshi, pacing a little bit. He runs his tongue around the inside of his lips as if he's tasting something foul, but he's really chewing over the truth bombs Hiroshi's laying down.
Kyle Shane: You telling me that I can't do any of these things is just fuel for my fire, big boy. I've been told I couldn't do these things I do my entire life. But you're coming out here, throwing out all this disrespect. So let me drop some knowledge on you, chubs. I'll reiterate, there ain't NO mountain I can't climb, even if it's half a metric ton and slower than the glacier that hit the Titanic. So the tactics I've used against Olivia Xavier didn't work. I'll try something else. And I'll try it again, and again. And one way or another, I'll find a way to bring you down.
Hiroshi squints at Kyle a little, who has a smug expression on his face.
Hiroshi Yukio: What you did to Olivia Xavier... that makes you proud, huh Kyle? That's exactly what made me decide to step in and involve myself. Because from a professional perspective I can respect what you've done with the Underground title.
Kyle holds his arms out, and the belt, telling everyone to bask in his greatness.
Hiroshi Yukio: ...But from a personal perspective, I don't like you, Shane.
Shane looks over at Hiroshi, and the pandering to the crowd stops.
Hiroshi Yukio: You're a cocky, smug, arrogant little man child, and Olivia Xavier showed us that when the chips are down, against somebody smaller than you, you'll just be a bully. I don't like bullies, Kyle. And I dare you... I dare you to bully me.
Hiroshi lets the mic down, and he walks up closer to Kyle in the ring, pushing his massive chest against Kyle. Kyle gets in his face, and the two talk trash to each other for a moment.
Kyle Shane: You really think so?
Hiroshi Yukio: Do something!
Kyle is the first to back down, holding his hands up like he doesn't want a fight... but then he quickly switches up and he tries to take the Underground title in his hands and smash the gold right into the face of Hiroshi! Hiroshi Yukio, deceptively quick for his size, ducks the arc of the incoming belt and when Kyle turns around the big man peppers him with palm strikes, sumo style. Kyle is pushed back into the corner by the palm strikes and Hiroshi swarms in, beating Kyle down with rights and lefts into the corner until Kyle is lolling limply. Hiroshi lifts Kyle up, but Kyle is still stunned from the beating in the corner. Kyle is on his knees, barely able to get to his feet, and Hiroshi fiercely clubs him down with a forearm to the back that fells Kyle like a ton of bricks. Hiroshi hits a few more clubbing forearms, keeping Kyle on all fours. Then, he grips an arm and irish whips Kyle into the corner. Kyle is laid limply in the corner, and then Hiroshi charges in, hitting him with an avalanche in the corner the completely engulfs Kyle. The Underground champion falls out, holding his chest and moaning.
Kyle Shane: God!
Hiroshi lifts Kyle back to his feet, and goes to irish whip him into the opposite corner to repeat the process. Kyle smacks into the turnbuckles with a lot of force. Hiroshi goes lumbering in after him, looking for a repeat of the avalanche. But Kyle, wily and slick when it comes to saving his skin, slides between the ropes and Hiroshi hits nothing but turnbuckles, sternum first! Kyle, from the apron, drops off, and he quickly roots around under the apron skirt, selecting a kendo stick, and as Hiroshi extends a hand over the ropes to pick Kyle up by the hair, Kyle fiercely turns and whacks the kendo stick over the head of Hiroshi! Kyle, grinning now, slides back into the ring. He lights Hiroshi's right leg up with a stiff shot from the kendo stick that makes Hiroshi yell in pain, then another, and another, trying his best to chop down the proverbial redwood. Hiroshi tries to push Kyle off, but Kyle is quick to wrap his throat up with the stick in front of him, choking Hiroshi.
Kyle Shane: I told you... I'd get you down... one way or another!
Kyle has the kendo stick pulled back in front of Hiroshi's throat, choking him out. Hiroshi tries to reach around and get Kyle off, but Kyle evades his reach. But, Kyle lifts Hiroshi with both hands on the kendo stick, looking to give him a variation of a kendo stick assisted Pieces of Eden headlock driver! As the arc of the move goes up, Hiroshi uses the down swing to grab onto the stick and then throw Kyle over his shoulder, slamming him to the mat and getting out of the attempted move before it could finish. Hiroshi then takes the kendo stick in both hands, and breaks it over his knee. Kyle stares up in horror.
Hiroshi Yukio: *enraged yelling*
Kyle gets to his feet, charging at Hiroshi, but Hiroshi catches him from the side, lifts him up, and plants him with a front lift dipped into a swinging reverse STO, laying Kyle out. Shane is left staring straight at the lights following the Hiroshima Hammer.
Hiroshi gets to his feet and lets out another loud roar, holding his arms up over the fallen champion. He goes to pick Kyle back up, but Kyle rolls all the way to the apron and out into the aisle rather than be hit with another move. Now, Hiroshi is left by himself in the ring, and Kyle is weakly on his butt, taking huge gasping breaths. The camera turns back to the announcers briefly.
Jerry Andrews: If last week's Trauma was a skirmish that sparked out of a misunderstanding, this tonight has escalated into a war!
Ace Anderson: You have that right, Jerry. Kyle Shane and Hiroshi Yukio had some choice words for one another, but the two sides made their case plain. Hiroshi, a force to be reckoned with in the Underground division, wants a shot at the title and has declared there is nothing Kyle has shown in his bag of tricks that can stop him from claiming it, but Kyle promised that he will go bigger and ballsier and keep trying until he found a way to defeat Hiroshi.
Kyle scampers up the ramp, snatching his title belt from the hands of a referee giving it to him, and staring daggers at Hiroshi. Kyle is dishevelled, looking like he'd been through a battle. Hiroshi is stern, telling Kyle to get back in there and fight him.
Jerry Andrews: But what could Kyle have in mind, what is he going to have to do to combat Hiroshi Yukio, or is there anything that can stop the big man?
Ace Anderson: I'd like to think Kyle has a game plan, but I just don't know. He's going to have to go bigger than he did tonight.
Kyle stares at Hiroshi, holding the belt to his chest. He shakes his head "Hell no" as the camera cuts elsewhere.
Match Two
Icemann Invitational Tournament Qualifying Match
Singles Match
High Tide vs. Tyrone “Crazy Boy” Smith
Referee: Nigel Gale
Sasha Greene: The following contest is a qualifying match in the Icemann Invitational Tournament! Introducing first...hailing from Toronto, Canada and weighing in at one-hundred ninety-five pounds, HIGH TIDE!!
With very little lighting and effects that simulate lightning, High Tide (in a pirate outfit) walks down the ramp slightly crouched over, as if he was sitting. He holds a large pirate flag in one hand, and in the other he is imitating steering a ship. He does this until he gets to the ring where he motions dropping and anchor and proceeds to hop onto the turnbuckle and dive headfirst over the ropes, rolling into a standing position. Then he climbs the nearest turnbuckle and pulls out a spyglass, looking around at the audience. He mimics loading a cannon and as he motions firing it, he jumps off the turnbuckle into the ring (to imitate recoil) as fireworks shoot from all four turnbuckles.
Sasha Greene: And his opponent. Hailing from Biloxi, Mississippi. He weighs two-hundred and twenty-seven pounds, PCW Hall of Famer, Tyrone “Crazy Boy” Smith!!
The lights flicker and fade out as the pulsating beats of Dope Star Inc's "10000 Watts of Artificial Pleasure" pops on the PA system. Smoke fills the arena as a figure stands in the middle of it. All the sudden, Crazy Boy comes out of the smoke and pumps a fist in the air. He walks down the entryway and climbs the ropes of the ring. He bounces around the ropes a few times, pumps his fist in the air one last time and glares at his long time rival.
DING! DING!
The faithful add some electricity to the proceeding before either man delivers their opening shot. The stakes are high for these two high flying daredevils, a fact not lost between them as they circle with caution. A little back and forth trash talk never hurt anyone as words fly like arrows. They finally lock up in the center of the ring. High Tide grabs himself a side headlock, wasting little time in squeezing added pressure like a vice. Crazy Boy jams his knuckles into the sides and midsection of the wrasslin pirate, breaking the quick grip. The Crazy One returns the favor in earnest, dropping his center of gravity down so that High Tide doesn’t find escape nearly as fast. So, like any good heel, he resorts to hair pulling. Tyrone’s pony tail is yanked back, forcing him to return upright. Tide whips him across the ring, and rolls past an oncoming shoulder tackle. Crazy Boy spins around just in time to swat away an attempted dropkick. High Tide is quickly back up, where he meets rights and lefts to the temples. High Tide finds the far ropes and a following Tyrone Smith. Just as he makes the bounce, Crazy Boy unceremoniously drops him over the top and to the floor via clothesline. With NO second of hesitation, Crazy Boy runs the far side and returns with a baseball slide.
Or not. Because High Tide knew it was coming, so he ran for safety. Tyrone never takes his eyes off and instead gives chase. He uses the steel ring steps as a parkour springboard with additional action off the apron. High Tide thinking he’s in the clear has made the mistake of turning around to be hooked, spun and dropped with a tornado DDT onto the floor! High Tide hasn’t a chance to process what just happened as he’s yanked back up and slammed face first into those very steps. One by one, until he goes Ric Flair and flops down. Crazy Boy rolls into and then back out of the ring to break the count. Again High Tide is pulled up. He appears to be headed for an irish whipped collision with the barricade, only to be pulled into a back body drop. High Tide splats hard on his back and is then rolled inside. Crazy Boy climbs the apron and uses the top rope for a razzle dazzle, highlight reel, springboard 450 splash and our first pin attempt!
1!
2!
And it’ll take more than that to a keep a good pirate down, as High Tide kicks out almost as fast as the ref’s hand hits the mat for the second time.
Jerry Andrews: Tyrone Smith showing some of his high flying moves in that exchange and looking to get his first win in seven tries in the invitational.
Ace Anderson: There’s a very good reason why Crazy Boy has yet to win one of these qualifiers previously. Tonight will only add to the total.
Jerry Andrews: Way to be optimistic and unbiased there, Ace. It sure isn’t from a lack of talent.
A jumping heel kick staggers High Tide into a corner. Crazy Boy comes charging in with a dropkick to the jaw. He rolls through and hits another. Then another. If not for the ropes, High Tide wouldn’t be on his feet. Instead he finds himself slumped and unable to protect the moneymaker. Crazy Boy pulls him out of the corner and proceeds to slice and dice the pirates chest with a series of stinging, WOO BY GOD WOOO knife edge chops. High Tide covers up and then thumbs Crazy Boy in the eye before any more damage can be done to the ship. With the distraction, High Tide goes for the opportunity...yeah. The opportunity to be introduced to a big boot. High Tide has seen enough of this movie to know when to walk out. Looking for a chance to regroup, he splits time between jawing with fans and favoring the parts of his body that have been targeted. When he turns, it’s AIR CRAZY BOY as he hits a suicide dive! High Tide is deposited into the front row, where the joyous faithful cheer on Crazy Boy.
If they liked that, they damn sure loved what happens next.
The daredevil in Crazy Boy has him running the ropes for added momentum. He converts this into a flying crossbody IN THE CROWD! High Tide is driven back as he takes chairs and fans down like bowling pins. Crazy Boy must have imagined he was in an infamous ballroom when taking flight, treating his opponent like they were on United (too soon?). Chants of CRA-ZY BOY break out as both men are back inside of the ring by the count of eight.
Jerry Andrews: What a display from Tyrone Smith! He’s proving tonight he’ll pull out every stop to win this match!
Ace Anderson: What happened the last time these two faced one another, Jerry?
Crazy Boy is feeling the rush of adrenaline as High Tide is thrown into the corner. Crazy Boy heads opposite of him and seems to be feeding off the energy of the frenzied crowd. He charges forward only to be met dead center by John Reese, professionally known as High Tide, with a rib cracking spear. The air is driven right out of his body. Tide looks like he’s finally had enough punishment and is ready to return the favor. His stomps target those very ribs mudhole style. He peels Crazy Boy off the mat, giving him a 1-2 of a headbutt and snap suplex. High Tide steps through the ropes and shows that he as well can springboard. He comes crashing back down into the earth with an OOOH YEEEAH! Elbow drop, again targeting the damage done by his spear. The boos of the crowd mean nothing to the Golden Coin frequenting pirate. Out of the ring goes Crazy Boy, dumped over the top, which if this were a battle royal, would mean something more than it does currently. Crazy Boy slowly gets prone while favoring his midsection. High Tide drops to the floor to swiftly punt kick him in that very spot.
After Crazy Boy finds himself on his back, writhing in pain, High Tide climbs the apron and throws himself into a shooting star press! The air is further driven out of Tyrone. Tide grabs him and runs him clean through into the ring steps. Hunched over the top, Tide comes around and uses the unforgiving steel for an assisted DDT which spikes Crazy Boy onto his head. Tide, pleased with his antics, rolls back in the ring and begins counting along with referee’s count. Which currently is at four!
Jerry Andrews: I hope Crazy Boy is able to fight through and find some oxygen fast or his chance in the tournament will be lost!
Ace Anderson: Tide has this in the bag. I was talking to him earlier and he told me that should he be victorious, there would be a party at his favorite establishment. He also had some stories about the bartender and the glasses being the cleanest thing there…
Before the referee reaches eight, Tyrone Smith is back in and getting applauded for it. High Tide grabs him and runs his face the length of the top rope, before slamming it into the top turnbuckle. A couple of well placed stomps later and Tide is busy pointing out a random antagonizing fan in attendance to the ref. He uses the distraction to come back over and deliver Yo Ho Blow! Crazy Boy gingerly staggers out of the corner as the referee determines the fan is fine. He turns to see the aftermath and immediately questions High Tide. He denies any wrongdoing, stating it was above the belt. He has no time for further dilly dally, he has a match to win and tries it with The Pirate Code!
1.
2.
KICKOUT!
The fans roar with approval for that as High Tide looks dismayed. He’s had enough. Crazy Boy gets body-slammed, stomped in the ribs and left to look at the pretty lights as Tide scales the turnbuckles. He leaps off with an attempted frog splash, otherwise known as Man Overboard!
But he eats KNEES! High Tide’s own momentum keeps him upright like a mast, to which Crazy Boy captures him in a quick pin.
1!
2!
NO!
Ob-la-di Ob-la-da this match goes on! Both men are back up, but everything Tide throws is blocked and returned on him. Tide is dropped with a quick single arm DDT. A russian leg sweep is used in transition as Crazy Boy throws caution to the wind and hits a frog splash of his own! He gets up, fighting through all of the pain to go back up top. High Tide staggers to his feet and turns right into a Crazy Drop! Tyrone senses this could be his chance as he gets a pin.
1!
2!
NO!
Crazy Boy looks stunned. Neither man’s signatures have put the other down. Just as well given the long, storied rivalry between two of PCW’s longest tenured. Crazy Boy continues to tell his worked over midsection as High Tide is slowly brought to his feet. Tide throws Tyrone up and looks for a quick kick to the gut, but instead has his foot caught. High Tide begs while hopping. Tyrone hears none of it and spins him around...right into a spinning falcon arrow aka the CRAZY SLAM! With High Tide flat out, Tyrone mulls going for what could be the three count he so desperately wants. Instead though, he wants to give the fans one more lasting image.
Smith climbs the buckles and slowly gains his balance up top. Get out your cameras, because Tyrone “Crazy Boy” Smith takes flight! But the Crazy Spin finds his knees meeting canvas instead. The pause from the jarring impact opens things for High Tide to hit Sleep with the Fish! Whatever cheering had been going on now turns south as High Tide covers.
1!
2!
3!
The referee calls for the bell as a winded High Tide victoriously raises his arms high in the air.
Sasha Greene: Here is your winner, HIGH TIDE!
“You Are A Pirate!” by Alestorm hits as Tide rolls out of the ring. As the referee checks on the fallen fan favorite, the camera cuts to commentary.
Jerry Andrews: What a match! Tyrone Smith put everything out there in an attempt to win, but High Tide manages to just eek out this one.
Ace Anderson: Party Tonight!
Jerry Andrews: A man of few words, ladies and gentlemen.
The cameras in the PCW Arena move behind the scenes and into the familiar surroundings of the President's personal office. In the office, taking a deep breath of Presidential air, is its new owner; the Hall of Famer, Loki. He takes a lasting look down at the desk and finds the remnants of his predecessor... a President Showtime bobblehead. With a smirk he taps Showtime on his oversized noggin and watches him bop around.
Suddenly Loki's eyes snap up from the desk as he senses something in the area. Lifting his head he turns on a sixpence and, with no hint of an arrival, he comes face-to-face with a black and red painted monster. “Something on your mind, Rhodes?”
“Always.” The reborn Non Compos Mentis in all his demonic livery chokes out, staring straight into the eyes of a man he has a storied history with. NCM gives Loki a hard look up and down to size up the new President. “I expected you to be more... pathetic.”
Loki smirks at his old foe. “Well sorry to disappoint. Did you need something or just dropping by to relive old tournament memories?”
“Old habits die hard, don't they Loki?” Mentis gives a smirk of his own, but a jaded one without a single hint of mirth. “You always tend to make an appearance this time of year, after all.”
Loki holds himself confidently and refuses to back down to the intimidating sight before him. Sensing the motive of NCM's presence he decides to humor the Born Psycho. “Considering the amount of success I seem to have around this time of year, you can hardly blame me. But don't worry, Mentis, you tournament aspirations are safe from me.”
A sickening crack of tainted laughter escapes from Mentis, a cynical and ironic cackle. Neither man is intimidated by the other, and neither is willing to break eye contact. NCM's point is clear; he doesn't trust the new President one bit. “The god of mischief lands himself the keys to the kingdom and he wants me to believe I'm safe? His favorite plaything? Forgive me if I don't share your enthusiasm.”
“You're hardly my favorite plaything, Rhodes, but this is purely business. So feel free not to be enthused but recognise this; this is my PCW now and I don't play favorites.” The new President Loki lays down the law right in the crimson and black face of his employee, who all the while remains disturbingly stoic. “You want something, you earn it. You step out of line and cause problems and there will be consequences. Are we clear?”
“Crystal clear.” NCM replies after a moment's thought and looks as if he's about to leave when he turns back to his old rival with a sinister smile creeping over is lips. “I won't cause you problems, but if problems happen to find me... well, forgive me if I bring a little insurance of my own.”
With that Non Compos Mentis leaves the room, convinced in his addled mind that the new President cannot be trusted in spite of his words. As the Born Psycho leaves, Loki composes himself and focuses on the night ahead rather than the ominous words of his unwanted visitor.
Match Three
Icemann Invitational Tournament Qualifying Match
Singles Match
Hiroshi Yukio vs. Mystery Entrant 2
Referee: Tyrone Little, Jr.
Sasha Greene: The following contest is a match in the Icemann Invitational Tournament!
The crowd is still buzzing from the previous match and are hopeful that this one is equally as exciting. The crowd looks to the entrance way as "Rising Sun" roars out and they know who is coming out from backstage and they start cheering loudly almost drowning out the music.
Hiroshi Yukuo steps through the curtain his face lit up with a smile
Sahsa Greene: Introducing first. Hailing from Tokyo, Japan and weighing in at five-hundred pounds, Hiroshi Yukio!
He walks slowly down the ramp as the cheering intensifies as the PCW faithful don't hold back for the mountain man from Japan.
He waves to the crowd as he walks and when he sees a kid at ringside and holds up his sign and takes a selfie with him.
As he continues to walk down to the ring as the crowd grows louder and louder so even the announcers can't get a word in over the cheering.
He goes up the ring steps and steps over the top rope and into the ring After he does he does a purification ritual by throwing salt in the ring to cleanse it before the match.
The music fades out as Hiroshi stays in the ring waiting for his opponent.
Sasha Greene: And his opponent...
The crowd eagerly looks towards the entrance with antici...pation. Last week’s mystery entrant was none other than the returning Non Compos Mentis. Who will it be tonight?
Static thud is picked up on the feed as ACE ANDERSON has just pulled off his headset!!! He takes one look at his stunned broadcast partner and smirks. The crowd is beside themselves over this shocker! Ace scoots his chair back and stands up. As he undoes the cufflinks to his coat, his eyes gaze on the retired Sumo champion in the ring. Yukio focuses on the former wrestler-turned-broadcaster as he slooowly removes his jacket...only to put it over his chair and sit back down. Yukio is not amused, but Ace sure is. The crowd boo him for the troll job as he resumes his duties.
Jerry Andrews: Cute, Ace. Real cute.
Ace Anderson: Hey! Sometimes it gets a little hot being under the lights and so I did what I had to do. But I had you going for a second there, Jer.
An ear-piercing "REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRNK~!" ripped directly from an old Godzilla movie shatters the quiet as the overhead lights dim, the cheers of the fans rising up to meet the volume of the starting notes of 'Black Fire Upon Us'. White smoke rises through the stage as a cardboard replica of Washington D.C. is slowly pulled upright much like a pop-up book. The guitars properly riffing is what brings out the Great White Reptile himself, his strides quick and enthused and what can only be described as a maniacal grin tugging at his lips beneath his mask. Throwing his head back, he lets out a booming rendition of his infamous "REEEEEEEEEOOOORRRNNNKK~!"before a plume of fire issues forth from his mask--and that destructive might is turned to the city at his feet, stomping it to paper ruins and setting small portions of it on fire. )
Sasha Greene: From Tokyo Bay, Japan, standing a staggering 50 stories tall, he is Albino Gojira!!!!
It is only when there is nothing left to destroy that Albino Gojira is making his way down the ramp, slapping the hands of any fan that wants to reach for him. Snagging the top rope, he hauls himself up onto the ring apron before climbing over that very same rope. Once he's in the ring, Albino Goji stalks over to the nearest corner before he mounts it and appeals to the fans, a final "REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRRRNK!" and fireball leaving his mask before the music fades and he is hopping down so that he can ready himself for the match to come.
DING! DING!
Gorjia and Yukio size one another up. The Godzilla inspired masked man has the height, but is clearly giving up the weight department. Just as it appears Gorjira and Hiroshi are going to go face-to-face (sorta), Yukio unleashes a barrage of E. Honda style open handed palm strikes. He alternates with both hands, driving Albino Gojira back into the corner. Once there, Yukio trades that for head-butts, dropping him into seated position. Yukio charges halfway across the ring and returns like a bat out of hell with a running hip attack. The whiplash of which smashes Gojira’s head into the bottom turnbuckle. Yukio, who in 2004 reached the highest rank of Sumo (Yokozuna), drags Albino by his feet and into the center of the ring. Yukio hits the ropes and comes crashing down with a running senton splash. Albino curls into a ball as Yukio stands back onto his feet, allowing the referee to check on the fallen Great White Reptile.
Jerry Andrews: Albino Gojira is a bit of surprise entrant. I do believe this is our first look at him.
Ace Anderson: And perhaps our last at this rate. Hiroshi isn’t willing to be the building to Gojira’s swath of destruction.
Letting Yukio know everything is ok, he moves back in and proceeds to pull Gojira back up. Suddenly Yukio finds himself shoved backwards by an attempted double leg takedown. His weight advantage is too great to be completely dropped, but it certainly staggers him long enough for Gojira to seize the opening. He pulls Yukio in close so that he can begin biting him on the crowd of his head. The referee comes in to issue a warning about that, but is met with a “roar” in reply. Yukio is stood up and finds himself the recipient of combination shots to the body and two straight to his head for good measure. He bounces back off the ropes and into the awaiting arms of Albino Gojira, who attempts to lift him for some sort of suplex...only to find nothing.
Jerry Andrews: Gojira may want to rethink his strategy. Hiroshi Yukio isn’t easy to knock down and would take some incredible strength to physically lift.
Instead he switches to a series of knee lifts into the gut to double the sumo over with. Following a running knee lift, Gojira hits Yukio with a clothesline. Hiroshi staggers back, but doesn’t go down. So a second clothesline with more force follows. That drops him to a knee. Gojira lets out another ROAR and finally, with clothesline number three being of the discuss variety, sends Yukio over onto his back. Gojira pulls up the faster than he looks man-mountain and spins him around. He shoves Yukio front first into the ropes like a schoolyard bully and drives his forearm into the kidneys. This is repeated three more times, with each one weakening the larger foe. After the last, Gojira hits a backstabber, the point of his knees colliding with the lower lumbar. Yukio is sent flying into the corner with authority. The impact further taking a toll on the worked over back. Gojira stalks the far corner like it was a tall skyscraper. He then comes charging in and...
gets his with a standing side kick from Yukio. This bounces Gojira back. He shakes that off and charges right into a pop up powerbomb. While favoring his back, Yukio reaches down and takes Gojira by the wrist as the crowd cheers him on. He drags him towards the corner and begins to make the climb to the middle ropes. HOWEVER...before he gets his right foot on there, the current Underground Champion, Kyle Shane, has decided to walk out onto the stage looking anything but impressed. This of course is a continuation of the prior Trauma, when Hiroshi decided to defend Olivia Xavier. Hiroshi’s calm switches into anger as he locks eyes with Kyle. Now getting himself onto the ropes, he comes crashing down with a Mt. Fuji Drop! All five hundred of those pounds (not really, but you get the picture) come down on Albino Gojira’s chest, shooting his legs up involuntarily before they rest back down. Yukio points directly to Kyle Shane as to indicate this could be him. The referee drops down and begins the count.
1.
2.
3.
The bell is called for as Hiroshi pulls himself back up. Rising Sun plays over cheers of the crowd as the honorable Yukio gets his hand raised in victory.
Sasha Greene: Here is your winner, Hiroshi Yukio!
Kyle Shane feigns a yawn and returns back to the locker room, still anything but impressed. Hiroshi returns his focus back to the faithful as he exits the ring, greeting the smiling fans on his way back up the ramp.
Jerry Andrews: Well, it's apparent that Shane and Yukio are quickly getting off on a bad foot here.
Ace Anderson: Thanks, Captain Obvious. You should join up with the guy in our next match. He thinks he's a superhero too.
Match Four
Icemann Invitational Tournament Qualifying Match
Singles Match
Gabriel vs. Sacramentum
Referee: Ed Lane
The bell rings prior to the match as the announcer takes to the ring.
Sasha Greene: The following is an Icemann Invitational Match, scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, Gabriel.
The lights go out. Suddenly the arena is completely lit up with white light as the opening notes of "There's a World" by Neil Young play. Gabriel emerges, wearing a tan button up shirt, brown overalls and heavy dark boots. He clasps his hands together and smiles widely before walking down to the ring.
Jerry Andrews: The former Rick Majors making his fourth appearance in the Icemann Invitational Tournament. Do you think this year could be his year, Ace?
Ace Anderson: His name is Gabriel now, Andrews, don't forget it! And of course this is his year, he's got Seromine on his side, that's better than having God in your corner.
"There's a world you're living in
No one else has your part
All God's children in the wind
Take it in and blow hard.
Look around it, have you found it
Walking down the avenue?
See what it brings,
could be good things
In the air for you.."
Gabriel climbs the ring steps and pauses. He then enters the ring, says a quick prayer, and awaits his opponent/the start of the match.
Sasha waits for the crowd to quiet down before continuing, "And introducing second, Sacramentum!"
There is no music as Gabriel, the ring announcer, and the crowd look towards the stage in confusion.
Jerry Andrews: There seems to be some confusion backstage.
Ace Anderson: Confusion nothing, he probably realized that he was preordained to lose because he was fighting Gabriel and decided to skip the pomp and circumstance of it all. Smart move on his part.
The baffling silence continues as Gabriel paces around the ring, clearly agitated. Suddenly the lights go and the masked followers of Seromine boil from the back, each of them holding a candle except the man in the grizzly mask. The congregation surrounds the ring and sways as the man in the grizzly mask slides under the rope.
He looks to Gabriel and kneels down before him, placing a torn, blue mask on the ring.
A flash of anger, quickly fading to sadness comes over Gabriel's face, "It didn't have to be like this. He could have been saved."
The man in the grizzly mask nods solemnly before rolling out of the ring. He heads back up the ramp as the rest of the congregation follows.
The lights come back on and Gabriel exchanges words with referee Ed Lane.
The referee begins to count.
1...
2...
3...
4...
5...
6...
7...
8...
9...
Jerry Andrews: Really? It's going to end like this?
10...
DING DING DING!
Sasha Greene: Your winner by count out, Gabriel!
The introductory chimes of "Monster," by Imagine Dragons beckon the entrance of PCW resident Madcap Magician as lime green fog coats the runway from the ring to the entrance. Flanked by Rasputin, Naomi, and Neville, the otherwise normal (for him) looking Nathan Saniti leads the group out from the back, Nathan taking point. He and Neville wave their arms with a flourish, calling to the fog to rise and engulf the lot.
The lights slowly fade as it thickens as it envelops the Harvesters, suddenly dissipating just as rapidly as it appeared, revealing that the group has vanished! A thunderous bolt of lightning strikes the center of the ring with a blinding flash. And another. After a third bolt hits, the lights go out completely for a second. A column of spotlighted smoke begins to build at the center of the ring, snaking its’ way skyward. Lime green and purple spotlights dance around the smoke as the lights fade on and the smog evaporates, revealing the Harvesters in the center of the ring!
Sasha Greene: Introducing first: Nathan Saniti!
The southern style guitars of "Bad Man" by Bobaflex play over the PA system as strobe lights and the PCW-tron flashes white light to the beat of the bass drum. When the music picks up a bit, Ford slowly walks out onto the stage, arms stretched out wide to embrace the hate rained down upon him. Taking great amusement at the crowds disposition, Whitey trades words and insults with the more vocal fans before rolling under the bottom rope.
Sasha Greene: And his opponent: Whitey Ford!
Match Five
Singles Match
Nathan Saniti vs. “The Asshole” Whitey Ford
Referee: Joseph Buckland
Jerry Andrews: This will be an interesting one for sure…
Ace Anderson: I don’t think you can find two people more different than Whitey Ford and Nathan Saniti…
As the referee rings the bell. Watching from the corner, Ford smirks. Locking up, the two men start to jock for position. After a few moments, Ford sends Saniti down using a back elbow. Ford climbs the ropes.
Ace Anderson: Not even a minute into the match and Ford is going to take a chance here.
Jerry Andrews: Saniti has got to gain his composure here.
Ford dives off nailing Saniti with a Diving Leg Drop!
Jerry Andrews: What a shot!
Ace Anderson: Here's the first cover of the match.....
1....
2....
Ace Anderson: Saniti got his shoulder up!
Bouncing off the ropes, Ford attempts an elbow drop but Saniti moves out of the way. Getting up slowly, Saniti picks up Ford and delivers a hard bodyslam. Looking at the turnbuckle, Saniti attempts to take a chance.
Ace Anderson: Saniti taking a big chance here!
Jerry Andrews: These men are going all out in this match already!
Ace Anderson: INCOMING!!!
Jerry Andrews: NO! Nobody home!!
Ace Anderson: Big time error by Saniti!!
As both superstars get up slowly, Ford grabs Saniti and whips him to the ropes but Saniti counters and as Ford comes back from the opposite side, he nails Saniti with a spin kick!
Ace Anderson: Now that had to hurt!
Jerry Andrews: And now Ford can give himself time.
Getting to his feet, Ford measures Saniti and sends him back down with a back elbow and begins to lay in the boots. Mounting Saniti, Ford begins to lay in some vicious right hands to Saniti’s head. Bouncing off the ropes, Ford nails Saniti with a vicious elbow drop. Bringing Saniti to the outside, Ford kicks Saniti in the gut and follows it up with a bulldog on the outside! Picking up Saniti, Ford throws him back into the ring as he turns to the crowd.
Jerry Andrews: Whitey Ford has built up a lead here.
Ace Anderson: Whitey has got the upper hand now!
Sliding underneath the bottom rope, Ford picks Saniti up and delivers a body slam. He then picks up Saniti again and nails him with a neckbreaker. Going behind Saniti, Ford delivers a devastating German suplex!
Jerry Andrews: What a move by Ford! Saniti has got to be out here!
Ace Anderson: Here's the cover...
1....
2.....
Jerry Andrews: Kickout by Saniti!
Ace Anderson: Man that was close!
Helping Saniti to his feet again, Ford backs him into a corner and starts to lay in some brutal shoulder blocks into Saniti stomach. Whipping Saniti to the opposite side, Ford shoulders Saniti face and pulls him out to the center of the ring.
Jerry Andrews: What a match thus far! Whitey Ford is showing some serious stuff at the moment.
Ace Anderson: Saniti just hasn't been able to get a feel of the ring and that's what he needs to do if he wants to win this match up.
As Ford attempts to Irish whip Saniti, but he reverses it and throws him off the ropes. As Ford rebounds, Nathan Saniti hits a clothesline.
Jerry Andrews: Saniti is starting to come back here.
Saniti pulls Ford up and he hits a suplex. He then drops a leg. Saniti stands up again….
Jerry Andrews: March Hare Hop!
Saniti pulls Whitey up. Ford hits him with a right hand. Ford attempts a vertical suplex but Saniti counters and nails Ford with a DDT. Saniti bounces off the ropes and connects with a running leg drop. Getting his arm over Ford, the referee makes the count.
1.....
2......
Jerry Andrews: No! Ford gets his foot on the rope!
Ace Anderson: This is a close contest! I love it!
Saniti pulls Ford up and he hits him with an uppercut. He then drops him with a clothesline. Saniti pulls Ford up, and connects with a twisting neckbreaker. Saniti goes for a cover and gets two. He then pulls Whitey Ford up again. Ford hits him with an elbow to the stomach. He then hits a DDT. Whitey Ford stands up and he waits for Saniti to get to his feet….
Jerry Andrews: Whitey setting Saniti up….
Ace Anderson: ... biding his time and…
Jerry Andrews: … REHAB SPEAR! A cover!
1....
2......
Ace Anderson: No! Close but no cigar!
Hitting his hand to the mat, Ford picks Saniti up again and begins to give him stiff jabs. With Saniti reeling, he ducks Ford's fourth jab and from out of nowhere he scores with A Whirling Dervish!
Jerry Andrews: There it is!
Ace Anderson: But can he capitalize on it?
Jerry Andrews: He has a lateral press on Ford! The referee is counting.
1.....
2.....
NO!
Jerry Andrews: Ford kicked out!
Saniti gets up and drags Ford to the turnbuckle. He looks to slam Whitey's face into the corner, but Ford nails Saniti in the gut with a knee and then executes the head smash. Saniti stumbles towards the middle of the ring and Ford sends him to the canvas with a big DDT. Then he signals to the turnbuckle.
Jerry Andrews: And here we go now…
Ace Anderson: Ford about to take another risk!
Ford flies from the top and jams his face into Saniti with a flying headbutt.
Ace Anderson: WOAH!
Jerry Andrews: Ford’s still on Saniti! That's enough for a cover... 1... 2...
Ace Anderson: Kickout!
Both men slowly get to their feet… and then the lights go out.
Ace Anderson: What?
Jerry Andrews: Is this a power outage? We’re sorry folks, but we’re…
Slowly, a group of Seromine’s Followers make their way down the ramp, lit candles in their hands.
Jerry Andrews: Wait, what are Seromine’s Followers doing out here?
Ace Anderson: Maybe causing a distraction for Nathan Saniti?
Jerry Andrews: They could be out here for Whitey Ford as well. Seromine seems to have it out for just about everyone in PCW these days…
The lights in the building stay out as the Followers surround the ring with their candles. The ring is barely lit by candle light, but it’s possible to see what is going on. Saniti approaches the ropes, looking at the Followers.
Ace Anderson: Is Seromine really trying mind games and theatrics against Nathan Saniti, the master of mind games and theatrics!?
Saniti looks up the ramp, possibly expecting to see Seromine. No one emerges.
Jerry Andrews: You’ll notice Seromine nor Gabriel are out here, but I think Saniti is expecting them.
Whitey Ford capitalizes and he shoves Saniti from behind. Saniti falls through the ring ropes, his shoulder colliding with the ring post.
Ace Anderson: Hey, the match is still on! Ford’s in the right here! Saniti needs to stay focused!
Saniti rolls out of the corner, clutching his shoulder in pain. Whitey Ford yells a few things at the Followers that can’t be repeated on TV and then turns his attention back to Saniti. Saniti slowly staggers to his feet.
Jerry Andrews: Wait… boom! Backtoss Piledriver!
Ace Anderson: A cover!
1…
2….
3!!!
DING DING DING!
Sasha Greene: Your Winner: Whitey Ford by Pinfall
Jerry Andrews: A big win for Whitey Ford here!
Ace Anderson: What a match between these two!
Jerry Andrews: Why are the Followers still here? They’re creeping me out….
The lights flicker as the ring empties. Suddenly, the PCW-tron pops to life.
A walnut table stands alone in a room. No chairs, no bowls, no knick-knacks. Just a table and a single tallow candle casting a weak cone of light on its surface, all scarified and stained as it is. A scene spare and devastating in its monastic simplicity.
But then, the terrible clicks begin. Drawn out longer than is usual, longer than we can bare. And the low fuzzed-out drone of “Counting Bodies Like Sheep to the Rhythm of the War Drums” ratchets up into an endless loop. Twitchy, glitched-out bliss scattered hither and yon.
An unseen hand tosses a playing card into the light.
Bison.
Another on top of it.
Slither.
So on and so forth. Some faces obscured by the shadows, some names lost to the annals of the federation. All former World Champions of Pure Class Wrestling. Older cards bent and torn.
Pegasus. Ace Anderson. Lantlas.
Still others well-used but preserved in the deck.
Justin Michaels. Andy D. Loki. Sean Rhodes. Mr. Showtime.
And the newer cards, all crisp and glossy.
Justin Kaard. Eira. Whitey Ford. Sadistic. Murdoc. Dan Fierce.
The drone grows louder. Something below the threshold rumbles in your bones and threatens to liquefy the marrow. One of those older cards gets added to the pile.
Grimm // 2006.
Another, almost immediately.
Grimm // 2007.
More cards, showing the unstoppable and unforgiving march of time. The Hangtown Horror looking much the same if not somehow, dare we say, grimmer.
Grimm // 2013…Grimm // 2015…Grimm // 2016.
Finally, inevitably, inexorably…
Grimm // 2017.
His face looks up from this final card, brow furrowed, jaw set, Beard gleaming in the flickering.
The candle gutters, and diminishes. As the flame burns out and we have nothing but a dark barren room, the drone follows suit and leaves us with only a voice.
Go back to sleep.
Jerry Andrews and Ace Anderson look at each other in slack-jawed silence. Finally, Ace breaks the tension.
Ace Anderson: What the actual fuck was that?
Jerry Andrews: Creepy, Ace. That’s what it was. Creepy.
Ace Anderson: I don’t even have a clever segue to lead into our next match after that.
Jerry Andrews: You have clever segues?
Ace Anderson: Have I told you lately how much I hate you?
Jerry Andrews: Every commercial break, Ace. Every. Commercial. Break.
Ace Anderson: Let’s talk about our last Quarterfinals match of the night, you unprofessional schmuck.
Jerry Andrews: You mean our Main Event pitting one of PCW’s hottest up-and-comers against one of its most storied veterans? That match?
Ace Anderson: Will you go swimming with me? I’ll give you a nice, heavy rock to hold.
Main Event
Icemann Invitational Tournament Qualifying Match
Singles Match
Kyle Shane vs. Eira
Referee: Erik Russo
The arena lights fade to near blackness, purple lights swirling over the crowd as fog rolls out from the stage. An eerie, wistful melody weaves its way through the assembled as a lone figure takes shape in the center of the stage, still obscured in the shadowy mist. At 0:12 of Rammstein’s "Wo Bist Du", heavy industrial bass explodes out of the PCW loudspeakers as purple sparks and violet pyros fire off along the stage, lights snapping to ful to reveal Eira!
"Ich liebe dich, ich liebe dich nicht
Ich liebe dich nicht mehr, ich liebe dich nicht mehr,"
Till Lindemann’s trademark growling resonance accompanies her down the ramp, her purposeful stride in perfect time to the percussive beat. The aggressive yet oddly hopeful chords storm across the PCW Faithful, Eira interacting with the crowd freely as she goes. Approaching ringside, she takes off at a full sprint, silver and black streaking towards the ring!
"Ich suche dich hinter dem Licht
Wo bist du,"
Eira flips forward, catching herself with her hands to launch herself in a handspring somersault, landing with balletic precision on the apron! Wiping her feet, she steps between the ropes and begins to stretch out with preternatural flexibility, waiting for the match to start.
Ace Anderson: Eira seem eager to show the world just why she's been one of PCW's most decorated women in its history.
Jerry Andrews: She's got the battle scars to prove it too, but she's still as dangerous as she is beautiful.
Ace Anderson: That's an understatement.
The opening notes of "In The Morning And Amazing" by Circa Survive begins to play. The big screen shows shots of Kyle’s matches. Kyle Shane steps slowly out onto the stage. The Assassins hood to his longcoat is pulled low over his face. The distinctive voice of Anthony Green hits the bridge:
"And how could anyone
You are in my dreams
Half human, half machine
You with someone else that I have felt and seen
I cannot rest, or my consciousness contest
Looking right through the lens
From winter brings the spring again"
Kyle tilts his head back and holds his arms out, taking in the reception of the crowd. For the PCW faithful that are just getting to know him, there is a modest show of respect, but the truly dedicated that have followed his career stir mightily. Some on the sides of the aisles even make a fanning bow motion as Kyle walks by. 1/2 the way down the aisle, Kyle pivots, holding his arms up to either side of him. He climbs onto the apron. Kyle balances on the ropes for a moment, points to himself and smirks, holding his arms out, and then he hops down, takes off his longcoat and stretches a few times to get ready.
A cocky Kyle Shane starts rattling his clap trap at the gothic gal, as she silently smiles a grin that would set those in the know on edge. She meets him in the middle as Shane continues his verbal tirade and is met with a hard punch to the mush that floors him. Russo shrugs and calls for the bell, while a stunned Game Changer glares up at Eira.
Jerry Andrews: Shane is looking a bit un-Godly for a God of Game.
Ace Anderson: Chalk it up as a learning experience. You don't talk smack to Eira without her doing a lot of not talking and extra smacking.
Before Shane can even get up off of his duff, Eira closes in, pummeling the Underground champ with knees and kicks. Shane manages to block the brunt of the blows with his arms, but the impacts are enough to drive him scooting backwards into a corner. He gets his arms in front, but Eira adds some oomph to the blows, jarring Kyle's noggin. She reaches out to yank Shane up by his hair, but Kyle uses the narrow respite to burst forward, butting heads with the Gothic gal.
Eira scuttles back a few steps from the unexpected blow, giving the Game Changer just enough time to scale the second turnbuckle. Eira manages to shake the cobwebs just in time for Shane to connect with a tornado DDT. Kyle wastes no time, hitting the ropes as Eira stands, only to plow her back to the mat with a clothesline. He gathers his opponent, lifting her up and back down with a sit-out facebuster.
Eira flops over onto her back as Shane scales the turnbuckles again, flying off with an elbow drop that drives what remained of the wind from her ample lungs. Kyle goes for an early cover, but the veteran doesn't give him the satisfaction of a two count before the pinfall is called off. Frustration begins to show early as the God of Game begins to scheme a winning strategy. He pulls Eira up by her white locks, whipping her towards the ropes. She reverses it, and Shane connects with a running sling blade neckbreaker.
Ace Anderson: Goddess White Sword!
Jerry Andrews: ... Wut?
Ace Anderson: I didn't name it. He did. Another cover!
Jerry Andrews: He got a two count that time.
Shane shuffles to the corner, measuring his opponent for his next move. He rushes in, leaping into the air and... Catching a foot to the face. Shane stumbles back, wilting into the turnbuckles and down. She collects Shane, tossing him across the ring to the opposite corner, following him in closely with a high body splash that lands her on the ring apron and the Game Changer kissing mat. Shane stands as Eira takes to higher ground, careening off into a tornado hurricanrana. She peels her prey from the mat, cornering him and tenderizing him with clubbing blows and knees. Kyle tries to protect himself again, but Eira chooses to send him across the ring once more following in with a handspring double mule kick to the gut.
A snapmare lands Shane on his back again as Eira starts to lock in Purgatory. Kyle doesn't hesitate to get a foot to the ropes to prevent the hold from getting cinched in. Kyle begins to get to his feet, but Eira monkey flips him to the center of the ring. She flips him onto his stomach, driving several knees into the small of his back. Shane lets out yelps of agony from the barrage. Eira gains a death grip on his wrists, twisting his arms in front of him for another attempt at Purgatory, but the God of Game uses his height advantage to leverage them both up and to the corner.
The impact with the turnbuckles drives Eira to release her grip. Shane drives his shoulder into her gut once. Twice. A third one sedate his foe enough that he can connect with the Chain of Memories. He bridges his back and the zebra slaps the mat twice, but the voluptuous veteran still has some fight left in her. Shane shouts his displeasure at the ref foe what he believes to be a slow count. He scampers to a corner, quickly measuring for distance. He rushes at Eira, dropping a knee to her head.
Jerry Andrews: Emblem Heartless.
Ace Anderson: He's not satisfied yet. He's not going for the cover.
Jerry Andrews: He may end up regretting that when it comes to the Black Hearted Bombshell.
Shane pulls Eira into a German suplex, connecting with it once. Twice. On the third time, he releases, nearly tossing his nemesis completely out of the ring. He pulls her to her feet once more, Whipping her back to the mat and locking in the Lens of Truth! Russo checks for a submission, but Eira is close enough to the ropes to get a toe on the top, casing the break. The God of Game waits impatiently as Eira stands up on spaghetti legs.
Ace Anderson: PIECES OF EDEN! THIS ONE IS OVER!
..1!
....2!
......3!
DING DING DING!
Sasha Greene: Your winner, advancing to the semi-finals, and still the Underground King Kyle Shane!
Kyle Shane celebrates in the ring for a few minutes, but soon enough a certain man-mountain emerges from beyond the curtain. He crosses his arms, a look of disgust in his eyes as he and Shane lock eyes. The celebration ends as Kyle Shane all but dares the sumo to come get him. The goading doesn’t take long before he thunders down the ramp, causing Shane to retreat into the cheering crowd! “The Rising Sun” blasts away as the Faithful give the Underground Champ an earful in his haste.
Jerry Andrews: Wow! What a way to end the show!
Ace Anderson: I think Shane may have bitten off more than he can chew when he picked a fight with a five hundred pounder.
Jerry Andrews: Only time will tell, Ace. The Quarter Finals happen at Trauma 211. Maybe bigger things are in store for the Game Changer.
Ace Anderson: Too true. The Icemann Invitational Tournament kicks into high gear at the next Trauma! Nowhere to go but up from here, folks!
Jerry Andrews: Be sure to catch all of the non-stop action next time, ladies and gentlemen. I have been your host Jerry Andrews…
Ace Anderson: And I’m the far better looking and more skilled Ace Anderson…
Jerry Andrews: Have a wonderful evening!
-click-
