Post by Rick Majors on Apr 27, 2018 9:41:20 GMT -5
Pure Class Wrestling Trauma
Thursday, April 26th, 2018
Thursday, April 26th, 2018
We go live to a sold out Pure Class Arena where the PCW Faithful is ready to explode with excitement
Jerry Andrews: Ladies and gentlemen, I'm Jerry Andrews and welcome to Trauma! The Icemann Invitational Tournament continues tonight and we have three huge tournament matches on tap for you!!
Ace Anderson: I'm Ace Anderson and I love this tournament so much! The matches scheduled for tonight are sure to be barn burners!
Jerry Andrews: Barn burners?
Ace Anderson: Like when something is so good that you run out and burn down a barn out of excitement.
Jerry Andrews: I don't think that's where that saying came from.
Ace Anderson: Are you sure?
The scene switches backstage. The camera is close in on a white board that has brackets drawn in to denote the ongoing spring madness that is The Icemann Invitational Tournament. There's a dignified, understated sense of importance to the field of names as they sit there. Dominator. Seromine. Grimm. Justin Michaels. Gabriel. They compose the best and brightest of the class of 2018, and the running for the finals of TIIT has never seemed to have as much gravitas and worth as it has this year.
Kyle Shane (off-camera): Who picked Arica Lewitt?
A red marker comes into view on the whiteboard, X'ing out Arica Lewitt's name and writing Dominator into the next round slot. Audible groan go up from a crowd of people behind the camera, and as it pans out, it shows the Pure Class Wrestling World Champion, Kyle Shane, standing with a peanut's gallery of producers, stage hands and trainers. As he looks around the room it's clear he's running a pool for the assembled backstage crew, and they're placing their picks on TIIT. A few dejected stage hands come toward Kyle, ponying up a wad of money, which Kyle accepts with a big grin on his face.
Kyle Shane: Thank yewww. I'm sorry you wasted your pick.
Production assistant: Come on, man, I thought for sure Lewitt was going to the semi finals at least.
Kyle Shane: Someone, laugh derisively at him.
Production assistant: Come on, man, America loves an underdog, come from behind story, and what could be better than watching a hundred ten pound girl upset this 350 pound behemoth.
Trainer: Dude, Dominator is a sure thing. He's my pick to take it all. It's gonna pay off huge when he gets through the finals.
Backstage hand: More than Grimm? I don't think so. They're going to meet in round three and I got the big guy going down. It's Grimm, you know that he's coming back from Mass Destruction with a vengeance.
Another producer, this one a more uptight, conservatively dressed woman holding a clipboard close to her chest. Kyle points at her.
Kyle Shane: Tina, you wanna give me your picks? I take 20 for the next round and 50 for picks for the finals, you can double your money easily.
Tina: No thank you, uh... don't you think this is kind of... tawdry? Like you don't think this undermines the importance of the tournament? Whoever wins it is going to be your number one contender, and they'll have beaten the best competition in the company... don't you think placing your bets on it kind of... cheapens that?
Kyle blinks. Then he looks down at the fans of tens and twenties he's holding.
Kyle Shane: No?
Tina: Well aren't you at least worried about who could possibly win through this round and get to the finals? Aren't you scared that you're going to have to put your title up against Justin Michaels?
There's a slightly pregnant pause, and then Kyle breaks out in mocking laughter.
Tina: Hiroshi Yukio?
Kyle laughs even harder, and he elbows the stomach of a few of the workers around him, who are also laughing. It's infectious.
Tina: Even Gabriel?!
That has half the people in the little clique laughing.
Tina: Ugh, you're ridiculous. Can't you at least concede that whoever gets through the next couple of rounds isn't someone you should take facing lightly? And you shouldn't treat this as a joke? Men are all the same, I swear, that's why all I need is my cat...
Tina the production worker walks off, still swearing off silly boys and their games. But one of the remaining backstage hands looks to Kyle soberly.
Production assistant #2: She's right, you know. It could be someone unexpected, and you know, if you're placing Vegas odds on the win, an unlikely victory from a 12:1 shot will pay off a lot better than a sure thing. You could make hundreds if someone got through that shouldn't have. Like Gabriel and Seromine. Would Gabriel turn on his Messiah and go for the win in the finals? If someone like Gabriel made it that far, think of how much everyone who placed a bet would clean up.
Kyle Shane: ...You don't say.
Trainer #2: Yeah but if something went wrong, you could lose the bank and owe everyone in the pool. Say, if they picked against you.
Horrified, Kyle clutches the money to his chest.
Production assistant #1: Something to think about, isn't it?
Kyle Shane: Yeah... I have to go. You all finish ponying up after the show.
Kyle runs down the hall, trailing dollar bills that waft after him as he exits and the scene switches to ringside.
Jerry Andrews: Well, that was... interesting. And, speaking of the tournament, as you can see, here are the current brackets for the Icemann Invitatioal Tournament!
Ace Anderson: We're going to add a few more names to the second round tonight, starting right now!
Sasha Greene: The following match is scheduled for…
Rather than announce it, Sasha decides to have some fun by displaying her ASL skills. She has a light chuckle as the faithful says it out loud anyway.
NOW IS THE TIME! FOR ME TO RISE TO MY FEET! WIPE YOUR SPIT FROM MY FACE! WIPE THESE TEARS, FROM MY EYES!!
Hatebreed explodes through the speakers as Braddock steps through the curtain. He pauses at the top of the ramp and thrusts his right fist into the air.
Sasha Greene: Making his way to the ring, he hails from Santa Cruz, California. Standing six feet, two inches tall and weighing in at two hundred and sixty-three pounds.....
He is.... Brrrraaad-ddddooooocccckkkkk!
He strolls down to the ring before climbing the ring steps. He wipes his feet before entering the ring and holds a fist in the air.
Sasha Greene: And his opponent…
"NO-TOR-I-OUS!"
"SO NO-TOR-I-OUS!"
The arena lights dim down to a gentle glow and a dense fog begins to cover the entrance way. The fans start to rise to their feet as a sudden bright flash of light floods the crowd before a deafening crash of thunder rattles the foundation and leaves the arena in darkness. "Notorious" by Adelitas Way instigates a small riot amongst those in attendance as flashes of light, like lightning, are all that illuminate the arena for the Force of Nature, and Justin Michaels appears through the curtain and onto the stage.
"SO NO-TOR-I-OUS!"
Justin plays to the cheers of the fans from atop the ramp, and marches back and forth while interacting with those in attendance. He nods his head and points towards the fans recognizing all the support they provide before turning his attention back to the ring, and starts to make his way towards the squared circle.
Sasha Greene: And, from Kansas City, Kansas; weighing in at two hundred and fifty-two pounds...
The Force of Nature interacts with fans on his way down the ramp as the first verse of "Notorious" accompanies him, but he never gets close enough to high five those begging for them, or to let anyone in the crowd touch him. The smile on his face is ripe with condescension, but the faithful are too amped up to notice. As he makes it to ringside, Stormm patrols around to the opposite side of the ring and gives a salute towards Ace and Jerry before hopping up onto the apron, and motions to the crowd once more.
Sasha Greene: The Force of Nature... JUSTIN "STORMM" MICHAELS!
Justin climbs through the ropes and immediately scales the nearest turnbuckle to raise his hands into the air for all to see. The flash bulbs surge throughout the dark arena, mimicking the lightning flashes, and the chorus of his theme song helps set the mood as the lights finally brighten back to the venue's usual lighting. Justin repeats his actions and poses on the turnbuckle in the opposite corner before hopping down from the corner as his music fades out, but the overwhelming applause does not as he stands the ready for his match.
Non-Title Match
Icemann Invitational Tournament Preliminary Round Match
Justin "Stormm" Michaels (PCW North American ©) vs Braddock
Referee: Tyrone Little Jr.
DING!
DING!
DING!
Braddock charges in at the Force of Nature the moment his back is turned. But Stormm was ready! Having an uncanny sixth sense allows him to move away from the pending danger. Braddock finds himself crashing into the buckles. Stormm unloads on him with a flurry of rights and lefts to the head. Knife edge chops find their way amidst the onslaught. The faithful lap up every second as they have no love for a charter member of the Psycho Circus. Braddock is whipped across the ring. Stormm splashes him almost immediately. Braddock is lead to the previous corner. Stormm says “Hello! Is it my boots you were looking for?” by drilling a dropkick to his painted mug. Stormm is all kinds of fired up in the early going.
Jerry Andrews: Remember folks, this is a non-title match, but Braddock could really establish himself with a win tonight.
Ace Anderson: Plus he could advance in the tournament. He needs to get going though if he wants to make that a reality!
With Braddock on his heels, Stormm looks for an Irish whip to the ropes. Braddock reverses. Stormm reverses that. He chases him across the ring, dumping him with authority via clothesline over the top. Stormm looks around to his fans, requesting the noise get louder (if possible) as he remains inside the ring. Braddock gathers his wits outside of the ring, visibly upset that his plan backfired. Braddock slides back into the ring. Stormm greets him. Belly to back suplex! This is followed by a single clothesline. Braddock is pulled to his feet and ran to a corner. He sticks a boot in the way. Stormm takes an elbow to the midsection as he finds his own head violently meeting the top turnbuckle. Braddock spins him around. Stormm blocks the attempted right. He fires one of his own. A second. A third. Braddock says hello to the buckle.
Braddock is whipped to the far side. Back body drop! He wisely rolls out of the ring. This time Stormm doesn’t let him breathe. Suicide dive! Stormm rolls through as he returns to his feet. He slaps outstretched hands on both sides of the railing while basking in the chant of his name. Braddock is lifted to his feet and ran front first into the ring apron. Stormm shoves him back into the ring. Braddock recovers in time to miss an elbow drop. Stormm has a laugh at his misfortune. Braddock is pulled back out and sent crashing into the ring post. Stormm gets back inside and again, asks for the cheering and chanting to get louder and louder.
Jerry Andrews: Fast start for the North American Champion. Coming off a punishing defense last week against Tyler Scott, he doesn’t appear to be showing any effects from it.
Ace Anderson: He looks slower than normal, Jerry. But a fight with Tyler Scott and age does that to everyone.
Stormm has looked quicker than his opponent, thank you very much. Braddock is back in the ring by six. Stormm carefully approaches, but takes a hard boot to the gut, dropping him to a knee. Braddock blasts him across the face with a running knee. Hugging the ropes, he shoots the camera a devilish grin that only someone like Alexa Black could love. Braddock turns his focus back on the North American champion. When Stormm does manage to get up, he eats a bicycle kick for his troubles. This is followed by a Braddock Beatdown! Stormm is sent flying to the corner sternum first. He sells it like he was just shot out of a cannon. Braddock drills him with a wheelbarrow suplex and then a series of elbow drops to the chest.
Stormm is pulled to his feet. He actually tags Braddock for a couple of shots, but Braddock headbutts him with authority. Stormm staggers to the ropes. Braddock charges and takes both of them over with a Cactus clothesline! Braddock chokes the life out of Stormm to keep him down. Braddock gets to the apron. He runs the length, Cactus elbow drop! Stormm clings to his chest like he were having a heart attack. BANG! BANG! Goes the head of the champion as it says hello to the cold steel of the rail. Braddock has a few choice words for fans wishing Stormm would just kick his damn ass. Stormm is sent to the ring steps, disassembling them on impact. Braddock, pleased with things as they are, rolls into the ring at the count of six.
Fans will Stormm to get back into the ring, not wanting to see the fan favorite eliminated from the tournament. The count climbs to eight before he even is at the apron. NINE! Has him diving back in. Braddock pulls him to his feet, only to make him pay with a snap suplex. He floats over into a pin.
1!
2!
Stormm kicks out of that. Braddock laughs at his desire to be punished some more. But if that’s what Stormm wants...Braddock obliges. Stormm is pulled near a corner. The second snap suplex actually lands him against the buckles, a signature move Braddock calls WTF. Stormm unfolds himself, but is turned so that he is now seated in that very corner. Braddock has another signature move to introduce him to. You Forgot Math hits to violent perfection. Stormm’s head whiplashes around, leading him to slump over like a murder victim. Braddock drags him out to the center of the ring. Again, he attempts a pin.
1!
2!
Stormm kicks out for a second time. It restores hope to the faithful.
Jerry Andrews: Braddock is hitting with impact, but not enough of it to keep Stormm down.
Ace Anderson: You could say his offense is the REAL ‘force of nature’ as Stormm is being punished every time he takes a breath.
Braddock begins to show signs of anger as Stormm won’t stay down for anything longer than a two count. Braddock tries to stomp a mudhole in him, but Stormm catches his foot! Braddock is swept off his feet. Stormm flips him around into an ankle lock!! Braddock yells in agony, but does clip Stormm in the teeth off his free foot, breaking the submission hold. Braddock is slightly slow to recover, but his ankle appears to be fine. Stormm is ran front first to the corner. An attempted German suplex is countered. Stormm, now behind him, hits one of his own! Braddock is rolled all the way onto his knees. Stormm finds a second wind. He charges. Braddock hoists him with a fireman’s carry, then a running charge, DEATH VALLEY DRIVER HITS. Stormm is laid out. Braddock rolls over for a pin, hooking both legs…
1!
2!
3---NO! Stormm gets his shoulder off the mat just before the shocking three could be made. The collective gasps and boos of the fans, turn into LOUD cheers and ‘LET’S GO STORMM!’ chants. Braddock pounds the mat in anger, feeling the match was over. He shoulder bumps the referee on his way out to the apron. Braddock climbs to the top. He takes a moment to get his balance and like the great “Beautiful” Bobby Eaton, Braddock hits a guillotine leg drop...on canvas! Stormm rolls himself out of the way before it finds him. Braddock favors his tailbone while Stormm is being cheered on to get back up.
He has to use the ropes, but Stormm has himself a new lease of life. Braddock is cut down with a running lariat. A second. A third. Stormm counters one from Braddock as he turns it around into a Russian leg sweep! Stormm mounts Braddock, unleashing a torrent of hell of him. Fists and forearms are the name of the game, and with Braddock’s arms pinned, he is unable to do a damn thing about it. Stormm brings a dazed Braddock to his feet. He pulls him into a picture perfect belly to belly suplex. Both men are up. Braddock swings wild. Stormm easily counters into a FLASH FLOOD!
Jerry Andrews: That’s one of Stormm’s big signature moves! The Circus is above to leave town!
Ace Anderson: To quote your wife, Not so fast, Jerry!
Stormm nets himself a pin of his own...the faithful count along.
1!
2!
3---KICKOUT!
A second more and this one would be over. Stormm, still feeling the punishment, is a little slow to return to his feet. His body has been through hell the last two matches and it appears to be catching up. He climbs the buckles and remains crouched as Braddock tries to find his wits. He may have a inkling as to where the champ is, because he “falls” into the ropes. Stormm beats him before he is dropped. Missile dropkick! Braddock rolls side-to-side. Stormm slams the mat over and over as he psyches himself up here.
Stormm sets Braddock up in a suplex position, with his left arm over the back of his head, and Braddock's left arm over his left shoulder. Stormm then grabs Braddock's left leg, lifting it up close to his own torso, and then lifts Braddock up into the cradle suplex position. Braddock fights with all that he has left to prevent Stormm from hitting his FORCE OF NATURE finisher. He SUCCEEDS at it!! Stormm is BLASTED out of the referee’s line of sight with a roll of quarters. Braddock is quick to sweep the evidence out of the way. Fans are LIVID about what they just witnessed. Stormm is pulled to the center for a pin.
1!
2!
3!
STORMM KICKS OUT A FRACTION EARLY!! If you thought Braddock was mad before...and that’s just his temper we’re talking about. Braddock slowly gets to his feet. A limp champion is muscled to his feet.
Ace Anderson: Storms come and go and this one is about to go down for the three count!!
Braddock takes him by the wrist. Stormm is pulled forward. He avoids the short-arm clothesline! Stormm keeps Braddock’s arm hooked, he forces him to wrap it around his own throat as he is turned around into a knee to the midsection. Stormm is quick to get Braddock maneuvered. FORCE OF NATURE HITS!! Stormm collapses over the fallen Braddock as if it were the last ounce of energy he had. The fans again count.
1!
2!
3!
The cheering of the faithful is at a fever pitch! Adelitas Way can barely be heard, but the North American champion is moving on.
Sasha Greene: Here is the winner of the match, Justin “Stormm” Michaels!
Clearly exhausted from the fight, Stormm rolls to the floor before he has his arm raised. He leans on the guard rail as his fans eagerly pat him and celebrate his victory. He is all smiles as the walk to the locker room commences.
Jerry Andrews: That was one hell of a match. Stormm showed why he is the North American Champion!
Ace Anderson: And he moves on to the next round! Who will he face? We'll find out later tonight!
As PCW comes back from commercial break, a wrestler is already in the ring, pacing back and forth and looking ready for action. A graphic shows his name to be "Johnny London," with generic british punk rock music playing over the PA system.
Ace Anderson: Here is...Johnny London, apparently. Not exactly sure where he came from, but he's here and waiting for his mystery opponent.
Jerry Andrews: This match was a surprise to all of us, Ace. It wasn't on the original card, but was added on at the last minute. I can't help but wonder; does Loki think this kid has something to show the world, or is it his opponent? Or both?
Ace Anderson: Speaking of his opponent, who is he? We still don't...oh, here we go!
"Ghost" by Clutch starts to play over the loudspeakers, and another newcomer to PCW steps out onto the stage. Arsen Goodstone casually paces to the center and stops, looking out over the crowd with an almost curious look. One hand is balancing a wolfhead adorned cane in front of him on the stage, the other thumbing his suspenders all the while with his expression unchanging. Even as the mellow accoustics start to play, Goodstone only looks out at the crowd with a knowing, matter of fact, and almost sympathetic look. By his mannerisms, he appears to be on a righteous path and quietly executing a plan he has set in place.
Sasha Green: Introducing his opponent, weighing in at 220lbs...Arsen Goodstone!
Arsen gives a look to this left, then to the right, and as the drum beat kicks in he taps his wolf head adorned can against the stage and slowly takes off his tophat and places it solemnly over his chest. He slowly starts to make his way down to the ring, exuding a quiet violence and the aura of a man who knows what has to be done, and won't stop until it's done.
Goodstone climbs the steps at a leisurely pace, stopping on the apron only to give his opponent a solemn look. Entering over the second rope, Goodstone approaches his opponent only to stop just before being inside of their 'personal space.' He says some words, which can only be guessed to be promised threats with an underlying apologetic tone, before setting his tophat at their feet and turning his back on them...waiting. Looking over his shoulder at his opponent for a few moments, he simply walks to his corner and turns back, waiting for the ring bell to ring.
Jerry Andrews: I'm not quite sure what to make of this Goodstone guy...he seems way too calm and confident to be out here in the PCW arena. Does he know where he is?
Ace Anderson: I'm not sure, but something really bothers me about that calm you spoke about. He looks like a dangerous man, let's see if this Johnny London, a self-billed high flyer, can prove himself here tonight.
Singles Match
Johnny London vs Arsen Goodstone
Referee: Eric Russo
Ace Anderson: Jesus! I mean...I think that could be it. That was one hell of a punch!
Jerry Andrews: You may be right; London is down! London has fallen! Call Gerard Butler and Morgan Freeman, we need--
Ace Anderson: Shut up.
Arsen stands over his opponent, holding his arms at his sides in a 'told you so' kind of gesture. He kneels down to connect with a few heavy elbows to the forehead, only stopping to rake his wrists over Johnny's nose and eyes over and over again. The pain brings London back to life, and he flails away in a futile gesture. Goodstone stands up, with a big smile on his face, only to close his eyes and turns his back on London. Johnny takes a momen to get to his feet, but charges recklessly in, looking for a knee to the back of the head...only to have the move countered as Goodstone turns on a dime and catches him in a double leg takedown hold. Charging London around the ring, Arsen slams him down with authority in a spinebuster!
Jerry Andrews: What a spinebuster! We are being told that Arsen Goodstone calls that maneuver the "Lack of Intelligence." Fair enough, wouldn't you say, Ace?
Ace Anderson: I would have said, but you said it for me. What's he up to now?
Goodstone seems to be wasting no more time, and drags his smaller opponent up to his feet with ease. Bullying him into the ropes, Goodstone ties London's arms up in the second and third ropes! Grabbing Johnny by the jaw and pulling his face in close, Goodstone can be heard sternly saying "You don't belong here, you don't belong anywhere men belong. Stay out of Joshua's gym, stay out of PCW, and for fucks sake, stay away from me. Or you won't be walking out of here with a win next time."
Ace Anderson: Wait...what was that?
Jerry Andrews: I heard it too...what does he mean by...OH MY GOD!
Goodstone absolutley unloads with a 1-2 combo of heavy haymakers to the defenseless Johnny London! His opponents head snaps back as a huge uppercut is landed, followed by two left hooks and another right uppercut. The flurry becomes faster and faster but no less ferocious. The referee starts to administer the count, and at the last possible millisecond Arsen stops striking his opponent, instead pulling him from the constraints of the ropes and dropping him down to the mat. The referee tries to admonish Goodstone for almost losing by countout, and then checks on London....but Arsen grabs him by the scruff of the neck and pulls him to the center of the ring, pointing menacingly in his face. Goodstone drops to the mat and rolls outside the ring, pulling London to the apron.
Jerry Andrews: Holy...this isn't good. Johnny London is bonafide out cold, but Goodstone isn't stopping!
Ace Anderson: ...he's got the leg. He can't mean to...no way...
Goodstone pulls London's left leg out from the ring and leaves it dangling over the apron. He then connects with a sickening downwards elbow, directly onto the knee. London is woken again from the pain, and screams out in agony. Arsen Goodstone goes into a frenzy then, seemingly frothing at the mouth as he repeatedly slams the left leg against the apron over and over again. London is helpless as Arsen climbs up onto the apron himself, and leaps up to deliver a senton onto the leg as it's draped over the apron! London tries to drag himself into the middle of the ring out of desperation, favoring his badly injured leg, but Arsen slides in, calculating his every move.
The referee threatens to throw the match out, but Arsen grabs him by the back of the head and almost politely dumps him over the second rope. The referee calls for the bell, but Arsen doesn't stop!
Sasha Green: And your winner, by disqualification...JOHNNY LONDON!
Goodstone gives a stomp to Johnny's injured knee for good measure before sarcastically clapping in congratulations to his opponents victory. Someone emerges from the crowd, dressed in likewise attire as Goodstone but with an overcoat, and bullies over the timekeeper as he repeatedly rings the bell. The mystery man is followed by others in similar fashion, jumping over the ring barricades and blocking ramp entranceway.
Jerry Andrews: What is this? WHAT IS THIS? There's half a dozen men out here, where's security?!
Lo and behold, security comes rushing down the ramp, only to be met by Arsen Goodstone's lackeys. A brawl ensues, but inside the ring Arsen has been thrown his wolfhead adorned cane. He prods London in the face with it, who is writhing in pain. Without another word said, Goodstone cracks the cane over his knee. Once. Twice. Three times. Half a dozen times. A dozen times. The assault goes on until more security rushes from the back, now outnumbering the croneys battling on the ramp still. Goodstone places two fingers in his mouth and whistles sharply. The gaggle of miscreants scatters on command, jumping out through the crowd and making a hasty exit. Goodstone, however, waits in the ring.
Jerry Andrews: Is he going to fight them all himself? He may have just ruined a young man's career!
Ace Anderson: Who is this guy?!?!
The security well enough to climb into the ring does so warily, but Goodstone tosses one of them his cane and laughs, saying something along the lines of "I'll be getting that back later." He then walks past all of them, who are focused on keeping Johnny London from further harm and seemingly afraid to lay a hand on Arsen. "Ghost" by Clutch plays again, and EMT's rush down from the back as Goodstone casually makes his way backstage, his arms outstretched to bask in the glory of his actions.
Ace Anderson: I'm all for gratituous violence, but this was too much. This was a mismatch if I've ever seen one.
Jerry Andrews: You heard Goodstone, threatened Johnny London. He told him to...to stay out of Joshua's gym? Out of PCW?
Ace Anderson: One thing is clear, Johnny London isn't going to be gracing us with his presence in PCW anytime soon. That knee must be shattered!
And the shot switches away from the gruesome scene.
Darkness engulfs like an insidious force, the PCW tron. The effect also consumes the arena lights, sending everyone into a state of confusion. Fret not, children. You’re safe.
An image of a cracked chalkboard inside of a one-room schoolhouse is displayed.
Mrs. Willard is written in elegant print. Going across the center reads (in big, bold white lettering):
TODAY’S LESSON
TITUS 2:7-8
Seromine and Destiny are dressed in their Sunday best. She projects a sense of warmth as she gazes out at the ‘students’ in attendance – all wax facsimiles of the participants in the Tournament. The Last Chance Battle Royal winner is represented as a solid body of black with a white question mark etched in the chest.
Mr. Willard has his feet propped on a wooden desk. His attention currently is fixated on peeling a red apple. His wide-brimmed hat rests just off to the right. Providing the light in the old school are the flickering flames on top of each ‘student.’ For those no longer participating, their likeness has melted down to a pile of hardened wax.
“Good morning starshine. The earth says hello!” Destiny greets with cheer. “I am so glad you are all here for a most important lesson. Although---” she frowns “Some of you seem to be missing. No bother. As the weeks progress, you will all flunk out.”
Seromine takes a bite of the apple. He chews a piece down enough to eventually swallow it. He passes the fruit to his wife, trading places with her.
“Show yourself in all respects to be a model of good works, and in your teaching show integrity, dignity, and sound speech that cannot be condemned, so that an opponent may be put to shame, having nothing evil to say about us. Every time I step into that ring, under the grace of GOD, I come as a role model for all brothers and sisters. Our work is never done. There are many sinners in the invitational who need a ‘come to Seromine’ moment---and rest assured, for the four who will be in line for defeat-you WILL be put down!”
Destiny, having her fill of the apple, casts it aside. She gets up and walks over to where High Tide sits. His flame is blown out. “Starting with him.”
Seromine smiles as he moves around the class. “Then ending with all.”
“Praise Seromine.” Destiny recites as she glowers at the camera.
One by one, each flame is extinguished.
“Praise the Lord."
Backstage we see Braddock in a hallway with his hand on the wall, leaning on it as he tries to hit on a stagehand. Tamika stands off on the other side of the hallway, arms crossed over he chest.
Jerry Andrews: Braddock had a tough loss earlier tonight, but he seems to have recovered....
Braddock has a lecherous smirk on his painted face before the Japanese women blows him off and turns down the next hallway. The Psycho Circus member looks shocked.
Braddock: But Asian chicks are hot!
Braddock makes a move like his going to follow her but is met between the eyes with a vicious chair shot from Gerard Angelo, who ambushes his rival from around the corner! Braddock stumbles back and falls clutching his face as Gerry ducks a clothesline from Tamika, who sprung into action. The Hollywood Hero jabs her in the ribs with the chair before laying into her with a few shots to the back that send the monster to the ground. Braddock is up at this moment and attacks Angelo from behind, shoving him into the wall and peppering the actor with vicious punches to the ribs. Braddock wraps his arms around Gerry to chokes him out but drops to his knees as Angelo gives him a reverse kick to the groin. Gerard turns and hits Braddock with a knee to the face, sending him to the ground. Angelo retrieves the chair and pressed the end into Braddock's throat, choking him as he leans on it.
Gerard Angelo: Just remember, the whale kills Ahab at the end…
Gerard accentuates this with a kick to the ribs and retreats before Tamika can stir or the rest of the Circus shows up.
The scene returns to ringside.
Sasha Greene: The following is scheduled for one fall, and it is an opening round match for the 2018 Icemann Invitational Tournament! Introducing first, he weighs in at 218 lbs... 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.
"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.
Jerry Andrews: Gabriel's return to in ring action after being out with a concussion coincides with the second set of opening round matches for the 2018 TIIT.
Ace Anderson: You remember this time of year last year was when Gabriel first started coming into his own as a singles competitor under the guidance of his Messiah, Seromine. You have to wonder if this year he might not fulfill that promise.
Jerry Andrews: Yeah, but you have to imagine how conflicted Gabriel is going to be, if he wants to progress, he's going to have to get through the block with Seromine opposite him. Not something Gabriel has shown willingness to do.
Ace Anderson: I can't speak to what he'll do when he comes to that bridge, but I know this, he has a big enough test tonight.
Can you feel it coming? Can you feel it coming?
Sasha Greene: And his opponent, he weighs in at 225 lbs... Tyler SCOTT!!
'Switchblade Smiles' by Kasabian gradually rises in volume to announce the arrival of Tyler Scott. The lights dim and flicker as the crowd react with alternative waves of boos and cheers.
Move back this wrecking ball,
Rips through the blackest hole,
Violence is coming. It's coming. It's coming
However, as Tyler Scott appears through the curtain, the boos surpass the cheers. He pauses at the top of the ramp and takes a moment to adjust the strapping around his wrists and direct a few abusive words to the front row crowd. A quick turn of the wrist and crack of the knuckles and Tyler continues his descent down the ramp.
He heads to the ring, climbs through the ropes and walks to the centre where he stands and stares intensely into the crowd. He mouths a few obscenities before beginning warming up for the upcoming contest.
Jerry Andrews: Here's a man that came so close to winning the North American Title from Justin Michaels on two occasions, he's been incredibly focused and hungry for his stock in Pure Class Wrestling to rise.
Ace Anderson: And any other time, it might be his night, but he went through a war with Justin Michaels two weeks ago and it still looks like he's walking with a limp.
Jerry Andrews: Tyler Scott is going to have to double down and fight through the pain if he wants to go to the next round of the Icemann Invitational.
Icemann Invitational Tournament Preliminary Round Match
Gabriel vs Tyler Scott
Referee: Charles Lim
Staring the other man down, they make some rather crass comments to one another about the other’s mother and such. Once this goes away, the two begin to go at it with a tight collar-and-elbow tie-up. Both men being of near-equal body type and height/weight, neither one of them manages to find a real advantage as they jockey for position. Eventually, Tyler gets the upper hand and applies a tight side headlock to Gabriel. He grinds the hold tightly, but Gabriel shoves him off the ropes. Scott bounces back on the rebound and knocks the Deacon down with a shoulder block. Smiling that the advantage is his and not Gabriel’s, Tyler bounces off the ropes and looks to take his head off with a clothesline, but Gabriel sidesteps. Off the rebound, he SNAPS him over forcefully with a headlock takeover and now has Scott dead to rights in the center of the ring.
Jerry Andrews: These two are just about even in every way as far as stats. Tyler excels in the mat and striking game while Gabriel’s most prominent in-ring trait is his adaptability. A master of not one particular style, but just unorthodox enough to give him the advantage.
Ace Anderson: Gabriel is also the type of guy that will try anything to get a win. If he gets desperate, he's liable to pull some dirty tactics out to give him an edge.
Scott manages to pick himself up while Gabriel’s hands are wrapped around his neck. He shoves the Deacon back to the ropes, but Gabriel bounces back and drills Tyler with a flying forearm! Tyler staggers back to his feet, but his opponent quickly cleans his clock with a few right hands! Staggering Tyler back into the nearest corner, Gabriel wastes no time, measuring up his target and throwing several HARD knife-edge chops! Tyler jabs a thumb into Gabriel’s eye, stunning him long enough to mount a comeback. He turns Gabriel around so he’s in the corner, then FLOORS Gabriel with a barrage of STIFF snap kicks to the chest and stomach of the opponent. Gabriel groans, holding his stomach in pain. Tyler goes to lift the Follower of Serominism up, but gets a harsh rake to the eyes. Gabriel then boots out the knee of Tyler and drops him with a lightning quick short DDT. Parading around the ring while raising both fists, a delusional Gabriel acts like he’s already won the match After shrugging off the jeers, he turns around to inflict more punishment on Tyler, but a picture-perfect dropkick from the Transgressor sends Gabriel scurrying to the outside.
Ace Anderson: Should we check to see if Gabriel is still concussed? He thinks he's got the early advantage.
Jerry Andrews: Never take your eye off the ball for too long.
Gabriel rests, and then he circles around the ring. Tyler Scott tracks his movement with his eyes as Gabriel sidles up one side of the ring, around to the other, and he slides in, and Tyler comes towards Gabriel but Gabriel catches him in a small package. Tyler breaks free of the hold immediately, but Gabriel rolls out onto the apron and sits there, holding the ropes and making sure the referee keeps him back. Tyler, annoyed, steps forward, but the referee waves him back. Gabriel taunts Tyler from the ropes. Tyler comes towards him again, but Gabriel again sees the incoming Tyler Scott and kicks his foot out, using his downward tripping momentum to hang Tyler up on the middle rope. Gabriel rolls back into the ring and then he walks over, pushing the ref aside. He grips the top rope with both hands and he HAULS back, standing on Tyler's shoulders and back as he pulls the top rope taut like a bow string! Tyler flings his arms and his face reddens as he is being choked. The referee orders Gabriel to break it off.
Jerry Andrews: Oh come on, that's blatant choking, in the referee's face.
Ace Anderson: Just like I said, anything to get an advantage.
Gabriel, having hopped down from his perch at the count of four, proclaims his innocence and piety to the referee who is having none of it. A short discussion about the dangers of getting DQ'ed in this match follows, while Gabriel protests. Then, he turns back to Tyler, who meets him with a slap to the face that is almost a hard right. Gabriel rolls to his hip, holding his jaw. Tyler, shaking the cobwebs out, uses the ropes to get to a vertical base. Gabriel again uses this as an excuse to extricate himself from the ring and walk to the outside. Taking a reprieve in front of the announcer’s table, Gabriel thinks he’s very well safe from the onslaught of the Transgressor. However, he sees a Gabriel-shaped blur out of the corner of his eye that looks like it’s trying too hard… you know, to fly. Both men try to pick themselves up following the high-risk maneuver from Tyler. Tyler, though still dizzy, is up first and he lifts Gabriel up, and plants him face first across the announce desk. Gabriel moans and holds his chest. Tyler Scott aggressively lifts Gabriel up by the back of the hair, throwing him bodily into the security guardrail. He runs in, attempting to clothesline Gabriel, but Gabriel performs a spin out and Tyler Scott runs into the guardrail shoulder first. The Deacon is up first now, and throws a few forearm shivers into the back of Tyler’s neck before tossing Scott back into the ring. Gabriel, seeing an opportunity to inflict more punishment, runs off the ropes and comes down across the back of the head with a jumping knee drop. Gabriel shoves Tyler over and covers.
Jerry Andrews: And Tyler Scott is cringing in pain.
Ace Anderson: Boy, is he. I don't know what parts of him are still hurt from facing Stormm, but he is clearly hurting bad.
The referee: One...
Two... kickout!
Gabriel doesn’t let the lack of a win deter him, opting to punish Tyler further. He takes two handfuls of Tyler’s hair and looks for a Scoop Slam, but Tyler sneaks out… lungblower! The Double-Knee Backbreaker paying dividends from the safety of a Gabriel onslaught, Tyler pulls himself to his feet and goes to town on the fallen Gabriel with nasty Kawada-like kicks to the back! A trifecta of shots make Gabriel arch his back and cry out in pain as Tyler bounces off the ropes and gives him a penalty kick right in the face. To complete the set of moves, Tyler springs off the adjacent set of ropes and flies high in the air, coming down across the forehead of Gabriel with a knee drop of his own. With a hideous scowl reminiscent of a guy in a horror movie that doesn’t like what he sees in the mirror, Tyler throws an endless supply of boxing-esque right hands aiming directly for the face of Gabriel. Scott narrowly avoids the count and whips Gabriel into the closest corner before unloading more punches reminiscent of the sweet science.
Jerry Andrews: Where’d Tyler learn some moves like that?
Ace Anderson: He's a guy who calls himself a Transgressor, I just assumed he goes around putting his fists into walls at all times.
After unloading punches that would give Ali more brain damage just by seeing them executed, Tyler scoots back a few steps and runs full-bore, PLOWING Gabriel in the head with a running arched boot! Slowly, Scott rolls Gabriel into the center of the ring and goes for the pin attempt.
The referee: One...
Two... Kickout!
Nearly putting a fist through the mat, Tyler yells at the referee for counting slow. After the ref begs off a beating from Scott, he turns his attention back to Gabriel. He goes to toss Gabriel into the corner, but the wily Follower leaps to the second rope and puts a back kick directly into Tyler’s face! Scott staggers backwards, allowing Gabriel to wring the arm out and then deliver a hook kick. He lays a few mounted elbow shots into the forehead of Tyler in frustration. Clearly Gabriel is getting aggravated and anxious to put Tyler down. Gabriel shouts at the sinner to get up, allowing Tyler to gather his bearings and stagger to his feet and as Tyler charges towards him, he is met with a one hand flapjack that drives Scott stomach first into the canvas. Gabriel takes the time he has while Scott lays on his back to recover from the expenditure of effort he just put out, then he huffs with determination and starts slithering onto all fours.
Jerry Andrews: Gabriel has been showing he's just as dangerous as Tyler when it comes down to it.
Ace Anderson: He's also more unhinged. Okay, crackpot, whatcha gonna do now.
Gabriel starts to work his way to his feet where he reaches down picking Tyler up. He drives Tyler back into a neutral corner. Gabriel delivers a left handed open hand chop across the chest that echoes throughout the arena like a shotgun going off. Gabriel drives a left armed forearm to the head and face of Scott before hoisting him up to the top turnbuckle! The crowd is on fire as Gabriel drives another open handed chop across the chest of Scott before stepping up on the middle turnbuckle where he locks a front face lock! Gabriel steps up to the top turnbuckle before hoisting Scott up in the air before falling backwards with a SUPERPLEX to a massive ovation from the crowd! Gabriel stays atop Tyler’s shoulders for the cover.
The referee: One...
Two... Kickout!
Jerry Andrews: Great offensive flurry and counter by Gabriel. He almost had Tyler off that big-time superplex.
Gabriel measures up Tyler and tries taking his head off with the Million dollar knee lift, but Tyler dodges the oncoming knee. Turning around, Gabriel walks right into a nasty over-the-shouler jawbreaker to stun him. Buying himself some time, Tyler tries to whip Gabriel to the opposite side of the ring again, but Gabriel reverses by planting his boot in Scott’s gut near the ropes. He dashes at Scott again… and holy crap. Tyler catches Gabriel at the apex of his jump and HURLS him over the ropes with an overhead belly-to-belly Suplex that dumps the Disciple of Serominism out to the floor. Gabriel has yet to recover from the gruesome impact of the belly-to-belly, but Tyler couldn’t care less about Gabriel’s well-being, let alone any opponent. Tyler smirks and wraps both arms around Gabriel’s back before driving him HARD back-first into the ring apron! Gabriel cries out in pain from the back-to-back brutal maneuvers, but Tyler ignores them completely and rolls him back under the ring. Fully convinced he’s got this match wrapped up, he drives a forearm into Gabriel’s face with the cover.
The referee: One...
Two... Kickout!
Gabriel manages to save himself some energy with the kickout. Tyler Scott pulls himself to his feet, however the fans visibly deflate when they see how hard he may be hurting here. Once Gabriel is up, Tyler charges from out of the corner, but Gabriel catches him with a boot to the midsection before flipping him on his back with a gutwrench suplex!Gabriel starts to work his way back to his feet where he reaches down picking Tyler up off the mat. He takes Scott back into the ropes where he shoots him across the ring with an Irish whip, Scott bounces off the ropes and into a reverse elbow that sends him back to the mat. The crowd erupts as Gabriel backs up into a neutral corner and sizes Scott up for the knee lift. Tyler starts to roll over to his chest and push himself up off the mat and to a vertical base, his back to Gabriel. Gabriel charges towards Scott and as Tyler spins around Gabriel tries to hook his head for the Twist of Fate, Tyler has the wherewithal to slip his head free and push forward, sending Gabriel through the top and middle turnbuckle smacking his right shoulder into the ring post, effectively countering the Believe! Gabriel cringes, yelling in pain and gingerly holding his shoulder. Tyler picks him up and tries to back suplex him, but Gabriel, showing toughness nobody could have foreseen, begins elbowing him off with his other, non-injured limb.
Jerry Andrews: You can see tears in Gabriel's eyes!
Gabriel charges to the opposite side of the ring from Tyler. Tyler pulls himself back into the ring and turns around with the turnbuckles supporting him as Gabriel now runs full speed across the ring where he delivers a running knee to the jaw of Tyler before bringing him out of the corner with a running bulldog headlock that drives Tyler into the mat. Gabriel nips up to a vertical base and charges towards the ropes where he spring boards off the middle rope and delivers a leg drop across the back of Tyler's neck. However, he drags him upwards before STIFFLY driving a succession of knees aimed at the wound!
Jerry Andrews: Like a shark smelling blood, Gabriel is zoning in on Tyler's head and neck, trying to do more damage since Tyler is weakened.
Ace Anderson: They've both taken some bad hits in this match, I'm surprised that they're not both in the red.
Smelling blood, Gabriel takes him down to the mat with a front chancery and begins to let the knees go, throwing each knee as hard as he possibly can. After about ten or so knees, Gabriel backs away, gritting his teeth at Tyler who notices the open wound.
Jerry Andrews: Damn it! He’s bleeding a little bit, but the longer this goes, the longer it could go in Gabriel’s favor.
Rolling the woozy Tyler over, he goes for the cover.
The referee: One...
Two...
Thre - kickout.
The self-proclaimed Transgressor throws a defiant shoulder up, but Gabriel doesn’t waste any time dishing out more brutality with several nasty kicks to the head as Tyler tries to mount a comeback. He staves off a few of the kicks by blocking them and throwing several rights to halt Gabriel’s momentum, but another powerful knee to the face inhibits his comeback. Gabriel slashes a thumb across his throat to say "This sinner is finished" and looks for some move resembling a Fireman’s Carry. Tyler kicks his legs out… Reverse DDT! Buying himself some time from the Disciple of Serominism's onslaught Tyler grabs his head and wipes some of the excess blood away with his hand before rolling over and climbing to his feet. Suddenly, "In The Morning and Amazing" by Circa Survive and the crowd goes wild as the Pure Class Wrestling World Champion, Kyle Shane comes walking out to the ramp.
Jerry Andrews: What in the hell is Kyle Shane doing out here?!
Tyler Scott, bleeding and obviously piqued from his injuries, tilts a head at Kyle, who is sauntering down to ringside with a shit eating grin on his face. For what it's worth, Gabriel, having heard the introduction of his nemesis, has pushed himself up to all fours and is looking on in confusion and consternation, not liking this horrid turn of events for the match, swings wildly at Tyler, but the London native ducks the oncoming blow and plasters him with a European! Two more of the same blow blow stuns Gabriel long enough for Tyler to whip him to the ropes. Gabriel reverses and tries for an irish whip, but Tyler reverses the move, pulls in a wristlock and decimates Gabriel with a Rainmaker clothesline. This move takes both men down. Kyle Shane, coming down to ringside, looks into the camera with cheeky sarcasm, raising his eyebrows and saying "The kid can swing!"
Jerry Andrews: Gabriel had one eye on Kyle Shane the entire time he was walking down here, and it may have cost him.
The referee: One...
Two...
Thre - Kickout!
Tyler, exhausted, gripping at his neck and shoulder, and with blood running down his forehead throws his arm up, as if to say can you believe this.
Jerry Andrews: SO close to a big win right there, but Gabriel’s managed to stay in the game so far.
Holding up three fingers to the referee doesn’t sway the ref in favor of Tyler, so he just continues the assault by picking Gabriel up and hurling him into the nearest corner. From there, Tyler ascends the turnbuckle and introduces Gabriel to a series of hard right hands that the fans count along with in a ten punch combo. One, two, three, four, OUCH. DAMN, what a move. A flapjack just sent Tyler falling straight down, his head hitting the metal pole. Not exactly helping his bleeding wound and weak disposition, and also whiplashing Tyler’s neck after the sickeing impact. After Tyler has his lights turned out momentarily (pun intended), Gabriel wipes sweat off his brow and shakes off the beating he’s taken. Sliding to the outside, he positions Tyler’s head underneath the bottom rope and winds up before drilling a nasty clubbing forearm to the throat.
Jerry Andrews: Tyler has been busted open by that dive into the turnbuckle, now Gabriel’s basically having his way with the Transgressor!
Ace Anderson: I hate to say it, but Gabriel's faith is paying off.
A second and a third shot follow the first one, making Tyler kick his legs in pain while holding his neck. Hurriedly sneaking in and out of the ring to reset the referee’s ten-count, he positions Tyler’s head next to the turnbuckle and holds his hands out like a camera.
Jerry Andrews: What’s he got planned now?
Running at break-neck speed, Gabriel drives the heel of his boot directly into Tyler, effectively crunching it in between his boot and the ring post.
Jerry Andrews: Oh, God. Tyler Scott could be seriously hurt after that move!
Smug and proud of his handiwork, Gabriel slides back into the ring and drags Tyler to the nearest corner. Propping him up so he can see the damage, Tyler starts scraping his boot harshly against the scar on Tyler’s face before bouncing off the ropes and driving a boot directly in the temple!
Ace Anderson: Tyler was looking real dirty, so Gabriel just FACEWASHED him! Yeah, ten points for clever wordplay!
Jerry Andrews: You’re sick! Gabriel is out here picking Tyler apart.
Jerry Andrews’s conclusion proves highly astute as a glassy-eyed look begins to take shape. After the devastating facewash connects, Gabriel drags Tyler out to the center of the ring.
The referee: One...
Two...
Three - Kickout!!
Fighting on some combination of madness and self-preservation, the former contender to the North American title shoots a shoulder off the mat, driving Gabriel into a hissy fit. Trying to restrain himself and not let Tyler get to him, he seats Tyler and starts clubbing him around the battered cut, making more blood trickle down his forehead. Happy with the damage he’s created, Gabriel entraps Tyler’s arm with his own legs and starts to crane the neck in a direction not possible. Shouting in pain, Gabriel tries to fight through the burning, tearing sensation. Gradually, the fans rally vigorously behind Tyler as he shakes his free hand. He claws and tears at Gabriel’s leg slowly, trying to get back to his feet. Gabriel cranks back on the hold even farther, but Tyler manages to wriggle to his knees, then use his free arm to deliver several stinging rights to the breadbasket of Gabriel. Releasing the hold, Tyler tries to mount a comeback, but a HARD uppercut from Gabriel sends Tyler into a low orbit before sending him crashing back to the mat.
Jerry Andrews: This is what makes Gabriel so dangerous. Even when you think he’s on the ropes and you’ve got one of his limbs, he can simply use another one to knock you right back down!
At his knees, Tyler STILL fights back with everything he has while the crowd rallies behind him, but Gabriel stops another barrage of rights with a boot to the sternum before snapping him down with a front facelock cutter. While the Transgressor tries to gather his bearings in a dazed state, Gabriel gets an idea.
Pulling up his pants leg, Gabriel bounces off the ropes and connects hard with a Regal-esque knee strike that puts Tyler down yet again. The fans deflate with disbelief that the match may be over. Smiling like the Cheshire Cat and pulling the pant cuff down, he drags Tyler to the center of the ring and cradles both legs.
Jerry Andrews: THAT was a knee strike that could’ve broken Tyler’s jaw, especially with that unprotected knee!
Ace Anderson: Just when you think Gabriel couldn’t be any more brutal in that ring, he proves us wrong!
Kyle Shane is watching with interest, and he holds a piece of paper in his hands that looks like it's containing a series of figures that show betting odds for a list of names. He's pointing at two names in particular on his column, Tyler Scott, and Gabriel. Kyle looks back up at Gabriel, wided eyed. Rather than go for the immediate cover, Gabriel raises both fists in the air and cheers himself on, but the boos drown out any noise he can make. Holding his hands up to taunt the non-believers and charlatans, he throws out some passages of Scripture. Kyle, disbelieving, yells at him, shouting "What are you doing, you idiot?!" and finally Gabriel finishes mocking the crowd, he gets back down and hooks both legs.
The referee and the crowd: One...
Two...
Three - Kickout!
Jerry Andrews: And AGAIN! Tyler kicks out, but that one could be Gabriel’s own fault! Instead of pandering to the fans, he should be trying to win the match!
Ace Anderson: He was laying the verbal bomb on these bitches!
Deciding now was the end of Scott’s lengthy stay in tonight’s match, Gabriel wraps the Transgressor’s own arm around his neck and applies a tight cobra clutch-like maneuver. Shaking the life vehemently out of a bloody and winded Tyler, the courageous Transgressor fades in and out of consciousness rapidly. The match finally taking its toll upon him, he tries real hard to break free.
Ace Anderson: Look at him go! Despite how new-age Gabriel’s offense seems for somebody of his experience, he knows all the holds and all the counters that brought him to the dance.
Jerry Andrews: True, that is. But also, we’ve seen Tyler fight out of tough situations time and time again! There’s no doubt he has the ability to succeed, but he’s got to get free. He may be out cold after all the headshots and submissions, though.
Another point is proven right by Jerry Andrews as Gabriel’s face is a lovely shade of purple. Deciding to count a submission, the referee raises the hand of the Brit.
ONE!
It falls more limp than Star Jones’ husband’s penis.
"TYLER! TYLER! TYLER! TYLER!"
Ace Anderson: YAY! Two more and we can all go home!
He holds it up and watches it fall again.
TWO!
Tyler makes little to no motion now as the referee holds the hand. Holding it up one more time, he watches it fall…
Tyler: NO!
Firing the arm high into the air, Gabriel grits his teeth as Tyler struggles to battle out of the predicament. Bloody face and all, the Transgressor starts to make it back to his feet while Gabriel cranks back the cobra clutch. Slowly but surely, he sees the turnbuckle out of the corner of his eye and scurries back to his feet!
Jerry Andrews: He’s up! Tyler is up! What’s he doing…?
Ace Anderson: He’s walking up the turnbuckle… NO! PIN ATTEMPT!
Tyler Scott walks the ropes, rolls through and lands atop Gabriel, pinning the shoulders to the mat! The crowd comes unglued, and Kyle Shane, on the outside, flings his list of odds in disbelief.
The referee and the crowd: One...
Two...
Three... KICKOUT!
Either suffering defeat or prolonging the match, Gabriel releases the cobra clutch to prevent Tyler from pinning him. The Transgressor comes around with the aid of the ropes while Gabriel gets back to his to try and make the comeback. He dashes at Tyler, but he gets both feet up, stunning Gabriel and making him stumble a few feet away. Gabriel tries again, but gets greeted with the same result as Tyler gets another hard kick to the sternum. Climbing out to the apron, Tyler slingshots himself back inside and drills him head-first into the mat with a slingshot DDT. With barely enough left in the tank after the high-impact maneuver, Tyler rolls Gabriel over and cradles his leg and head together tightly.
The referee and the crowd: One...
Two...
Three - KICKOUT!
As the fans rally behind the Transgressor, he screams for a woozy Gabriel to rise to his feet, even though he remains in a bloody daze all his own. Being fueled by pure adrenaline, Tyler runs at Gabriel and knocks him down with a wicked clothesline! Gabriel rises again, but a Back Elbow sends him tumbling to the canvas. Tyler whips Gabriel to the ropes, but Gabriel reverses, sending Tyler flying instead. Gabriel ducks down for a back body drop, but Tyler manages to sidestep him, then cradle his arms… X-Plex!
Jerry Andrews: Cross-armed X-plex, driving Gabriel into the mat!
Wobbling to his feet, the punch-drunk Gabriel tries to elbow his way free from a second X-plex, but Tyler ducks an oncoming shot and HURLS him with the second one!
Ace Anderson: Where does he gets this from?!
While Ace Anderson is left to ponder such a quandary, Tyler slowly ascends the turnbuckles while shaking off the feelings of grogginess that have come with so many blows to the head. Suddenly, though, Kyle Shane, affording a sudden mix of determination that only a tough decision can come to, starts walking over to the turnbuckles. He catches Tyler Scott's eye, and he shouts at Tyler. Tyler, still sitting on the top rope, looks down at Kyle, who tells him that he's screwing up his field. Tyler Scott has no idea what Kyle is on about, but Kyle's distraction irks him. He motions for Kyle to get the hell out of his sight. Suddenly, their argument is cut short as Gabriel beans Tyler in the head rather stiffly, knocking Tyler so hard that he almost falls off, but slumps down to a seated position on the top rope. His body therefore gives no more resistance when Gabriel pulls his head out in midair, and he hooks Tyler's head under his arm as he sits on the rope with him, before taking Tyler down with a sick looking headlock driver from the top rope.
Jerry Andrews: And Gabriel comes in with the Word of the Lord!!
Ace Anderson: That looked especially painful from the top rope, Tyler Scott got pounded into the mat like a railroad spike.
Gabriel bobs his head and motions for the referee to come in, as Kyle's mouth is wide open. He's not shocked, per se, but he is perturbed that it's come to this. He grimaces and turns his head away from the distasteful sight as Gabriel makes the pin.
Jerry Andrews: An assist to Gabriel from... Kyle Shane? I don't get it...
Ace Anderson: The greatest enemy of Seromine and his followers just helped one of their own!
The referee: One...
Two...
Three!!
Ding Ding Ding
Sasha Greene: Here is your winner, advancing to the next round... GABRIEL!!
"There's A World" by Neil Young plays on the PA and Gabriel shoots to his feet, hugging the referee and rejoicing exuberantly. He shoots his hand up in victory.
Jerry Andrews: Well, despite the fact that it took an assist from Kyle Shane, Gabriel puts away a very game Tyler Scott tonight.
Ace Anderson: Tyler Scott shouldn't have been competing tonight at all, he should have rested and healed up... but, he still took Gabriel to his limit.
Gabriel is still holding his arms up and shouting "Praise Seromine!! Praise Him!!" as the referee attends to Tyler Scott, who is holding his wounds. Suddenly, Kyle Shane rolls into the ring behind Gabriel. Gabriel, turning to all sides of the ring to take in the vociferous reaction of the crowd, is soaking in his victory. But he still has his back turned to Kyle. Kyle stalks him, measuring him and framing his hands to get Gabriel centered. Gabriel turns around, rejoicing and holding his arms up. But then he eats a decimating roundhouse spin kick from Kyle Shane, who lets Gabriel drop like a sack of potatoes and roll away.
Jerry Andrews: VATS TO GABRIEL!!
Ace Anderson: Oh, come on, he just got back from a concussion!
Jerry Andrews: Kyle Shane may have helped Gabriel win this round for his own reasons, but he did not show his appreciation to the winner!
Kyle taunts Gabriel, standing tall in the ring as Gabriel pulls himself up on the apron like a drowning man clinging to a piece of wreckage. Gabriel's eyes fly open wide, and he shouts at Kyle, who gives him and infuriating smirk as he exits the ring.
Jerry Andrews: Kyle Shane has made a big impact in the Icemann Tournament tonight!
Coming back from the commercial break, we see a video of an oily-skinned muscular man flexing and gyrating his head in a suggestive manner to Jon LaJoie’s “Show Me Your Genitals.” On the entrance ramp, this same chiseled individual is cavorting along the entrance ramp, eying up virtually every single female of legal age in the front few rows, showing off his physique as if hoping for one sex-crazed fan might succumb to testosterone and endorphins and leap over the barricade to jump all over him. It doesn’t happen. The fans seem a little uncertain of this seemingly random performer’s behavior.
Sasha Greene: Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome; from Toronto, Canada, weighing in at 238lbs… MUSCLES MALONE!
Muscles eyes the ring in which Sasha is stood. He runs by shuffling his feet up the steel ring steps before hopping over the top rope to show off his agility. He flexes his biceps to the fans one more time, who do not provide much in terms of admiration. He looks across to Sasha Greene and puffs out his shoulders, strutting like a cockerel with full plumage on display. His music fades as Sasha begins speaking into the microphone.
Sasha Greene: Muscles, tonight you are scheduled to take part in an exhibition match with a fellow newcomer to the Pure Class Wrestling scene. What are your thoughts on your opponent tonight?
Muscles smiles, creepily wrapping his finger like vines across Sasha’s before stepping towards her, yet pulling her hand close to his mouth. She recoils from the sliminess of this self-loving bodybuilder.
Muscles Malone: I’ve got something a little different in mind. I’m a championship winning bodybuilder! I have natural talent that can’t be exceeded. I don’t want to humiliate some chump in front of all of my adoring fans…
The only reaction he receives is one lowly call of “You Suck!” from a fan, which garners more of a reaction than anything Muscles has done since he first walked out into the main arena. He looks a little annoyed by this, but continues regardless.
Muscles Malone: What I’m going to do tonight in this very ring is do something that will put the locker room on notice! I’m going to give PCW a reason why they should hire me on a full time basis.
With that, Malone picks the microphone out of Sasha Greene’s hand like a flower from a vase, moving towards the set of ring ropes directly facing the entrance ramp.
Muscles Malone: DOMINATOR! I’M CALLING YOU OUT!
The fans suddenly cheer! Clearly, this guy isn’t taking this matter lightly.
Muscles Malone: I’m challenging you right now to a match for your Underground Title! And I’m going to show the whole world that you are NOT unbeatable! I’m going to take your title and end your undefeated streak! What do you have to say about that, Big Man!? Unless you’re chicken!!!
Muscles Malone begins clucking like a chicken, trying to goad The Underground King into making an appearance. A few seconds pass and there is no response. Muscles laughs, dismissing Dominator’s no-show as a sign of intimidation on the champion’s part.
Jerry Andrews: The Underground Title IS supposed to be defended on each and every show without fail, although this rule HAS been relaxed while The Icemann Invitational Tournament is taking place.
Ace Anderson: But Dominator wasn’t even the person he was meant to be going up against! Who WAS his opponent meant to be anyw…
Ace is cut off by sound of a clock ticking… immediately followed by the opening guitar rift of TRIVIUM’s cover of “Losing My Religion.” Muscles Malone looks slightly shocked at the speed of which his challenge was answer. You can see Malone mouthing “he wasn’t meant to be here tonight” to Sasha Greene, who shrugs her shoulders and quickly vacates the ring. Referee Manny Cruz has run down to ringside and whispers something in her ear. She speaks with great delight when delivering the bad news to the creep; Muscles Malone.
Sasha Greene: The following contest is for the PCW Underground Championship. Introducing the Champion; from Salisbury, England, weighing in at 365 pounds. He is the reigning Underground King… DOMINATOR!
The lights slowly fade to black. Flashes of cameras give intermittent glimmers of the darkened surroundings. Horacio Mortimer appears on the stage, holding out his arm in an expression of beholding. As the first verse begins to play, he finally appears on the top of the stage…
…DOMINATOR…
The Zenith glares towards the crowd massed to his left, then to his right before slowly raising his left arm into the air, revealing a gold plated watch that envelopes his wrist. A shower of orange sparks begin to fall from the top of the Tron, briefly masking the Entrance Video as Dominator shows off his bulging biceps to the crowd. All the while, Horacio Mortimer is applauding his client and calling some last minute tactics to him.
He slowly walks down the ramp with a gleam in his eye, a wicked and arrogant smirk spread amidst his dark stubble. He makes no attempt to slap hands with the fans. He reaches the ring apron, grabbing the middle rope to haul him onto the side of the ring. He pushes down the top rope with his right hand, throwing one foot over the top before the other follows. He slowly makes his way to the center of the ring, turning a full three hundred and sixty degrees to admire the capacity crowd before raising his arms in the air in the exact same manner as he had done atop the entrance ramp, lifting them with malicious purpose to display the watches covering his wrists.
He cricks his neck back and forth before swinging his arms in preparation for the impending fight. All the while, that devious smile is still on his face and he looks to make eye contact with his opponent without a single hint of intimidation. Horacio Mortimer patrols the perimeter of the ring. The music slowly fades, the lights returning to a more average level of illumination as Dominator stares at Muscles Malone, who instantly regrets his decision as the 7 foot plus Zenith glares at him.
Referee Manny Cruz has words with Horacio Mortimer, checking that this contest is acceptable to The Chronological Order. Horacio simply chuckles to himself as climbs between the ropes and stands on the outside, but not before saying to Dominator the words “You have two minutes.”
DING DING DING!
Pure Class Wrestling Underground Championship
Dominator (Underground King) vs. Muscles Malone
Referee: Manny Cruz
Trying to hide the unparalleled levels of worry that have suddenly mounted inside of him, Muscles begins by flexing his… well… muscles; mainly his biceps right in front of Dominator. He kisses one of them proudly, displaying his Adonis-like physique for all to see. Dominator takes a step forward, causing Malone to quickly flee out of the ring. The crowd laugh at his cowardice, but Malone heads underneath the ring.
Horacio Mortimer looks at Dominator in the ring and simply shrugs. The Zenith does not move as Malone slides back into the ring with a long metal pipe in his hand. The referee immediately acts with caution, but Malone protests, holding out the bar with arms spread apart. With gritted teeth, he begins to compress and wrench at the bar. Slowly, it bows and bends. Muscles is literally trembling through the sheer effort that he has to make in order to bend the metal pipe, but eventually the two ends of the pipe meet.
Triumphantly, he holds the bar up in his hands, parading it around the ring as if it were the Underground Championship itself. He holds it up at Dominator’s side, yelling in his face. The Zenith has heard enough. He slaps his palm against Malone’s throat and wraps his fingers around his neck. Muscles Malone’s eyes widen as he drops the pipe out of fright. He shakes his head, begging for mercy. His plea falls on deaf ears. With one arm, Dominator lifts Muscles into the air and holds him there for a good few seconds before sending him crashing back down into the canvas.
Jerry Andrews: A Stalling One Armed Chokeslam to a near 250 pound man. The raw strength of The Underground King is scary yet awe-inspiring at the same time.
Ace Anderson: Malone spent all that time demonstrating his power on a piece of metal when he should have been doing it on the champion!
Dominator picks up the now V-shaped metal bar at one end. He looks towards the newly formed corner and places one finger close to it, before quickly pulling it away. He looks down at Malone with a wicked grin and plants one of his ginormous boots on his ribcage. He leans down slightly and begins to flex the bar back into its original position. Then he bends it again; back and forth, back and forth, until without warning the bar snaps in two! The crowd gasps!
Jerry Andrews: Did Dominator really just do that!? He’s snapped a metal bar in two using nothing but his hands!
Dominator admires his handwork before pointing the bar, or rather the two bars, down towards Muscles’ chest. He lowers himself down even more, introducing the bar to Malone’s flesh. Immediately, Muscles Malone begins screaming out in agony, thrashing around wildly. Without warning, Jerry Andrews and Ace Anderson are joined by Horacio Mortimer, who quickly dons a headset, but remains stood up.
Horacio Mortimer: For those of you who failed basic science at school, when metal is bent, the internal molecules create friction against one another, which in turn generates heat. It is like Muscles Malone is being tortured with two red hot pokers! Combine that with the sharpness of fragmented metal, you have a means of torture like no other. Thank you.
Horacio quickly drops the headset down and motions back to ringside, barking orders in the direction of The Zenith.
Jerry Andrews: This is a sickening act by The Underground King!
Ace Anderson: Innovative though. And this match is being contested with Underground Rules. This is all legal.
Jerry Andrews: Muscles Malone may have signed his own death warrant by challenging Dominator here tonight!
Muscles is screaming out in pain! You can see two large burn mark on his chest laced with blood where Dominator has ‘branded’ him with that pipe as he finally relents. Malone writhes in pain as Dominator deadlifts him by the throat once again, shoving him back into the corner turnbuckle. Dominator begins mouthing profanities and spitting in the face of his opponent, before delivering a Hard Irish Whip across the ring. Malone is sent with such speed and force that the top turnbuckle snaps off on impact. The top rope flutters to the ground as the padded turnbuckle behind Malone’s head as he falls flat on his back in the ring!
Jerry Andrews: Good God, did you see that!?
Ace Anderson: I have eyes, Jerry. Of course I saw that! Have you noticed the sheer focus in Dominator’s actions? He looks more dangerous than ever!
Jerry Andrews: Even though he was not scheduled to compete tonight, he will face Stacy Jones in the next round of the Icemann Invitational Tournament. From there, he could potentially end up facing Hiroshi Yukio or Grimm in the semi-finals. He NEEDS to stay focused.
Muscles Malone looks completely out of it! Dominator throws his arms into the air with a roar, signifying his dominance over his fallen foe. The crowd reach out to him with thunderous boos as The Zenith motions towards Malone. Horacio is tapping his wristwatch with one finger, ordering him to wrap this up. He lifts Malone up once more, hoisting him onto his shoulders and applying a brutal looking Torture Rack: The Rip In Time! Malone’s spine is bending! And not in the way that nature intended!
DING DING DING!
Sasha Greene: Here is your winner…
Before she can finish her call, Horacio Mortimer snatches the microphone out of her hand. Pointing with his finger, he lowers it down as if to indicate he would like Ms. Greene to take her seat. She begrudgingly obliges.
Horacio Mortimer: Here is your winner and STILL PCW Underground King; the man who is going to win The Icemann Invitational Tournament; a future PCW Hall of Famer and World Champion… the UNRIVALLED, UNRELENTING, UNDEFEATED, UNDISPUTED KING OF THE UNDERGROUND… THE ZENITH… DOMINATOR!
Horacio practically shoves these bold statements down the fans’ throats, shouting with absolute conviction as he hands Dominator his championship. He hoists it high above his head, letting out the same battle cry as he had done before. Dominator slings his championship belt over his shoulder. The Chronological Order vacate the ring, leaving Malone to somehow try and regroup himself. Horacio continues to sing his clients praises as they climb up the ramp…
…when suddenly…
Dominator stops in his tracks as a spotlight shines at the top of the stage once the rest of the lights in the arena fade to black. Skream’s remix of La Roux’s “In For The Kill” plays ominously over the speakers. A petit figure can be seen in the center of the spotlight, her jacket contains so many different colours that it looks even more amazing than Joseph’s Dream Coat! Even her hair is tinted with all the colours of the rainbow; a stark contradiction to the dark sounds of the song playing in the background. In one hand, she holds some sort of book with a black cover. A pen is clipped over the top and runs parallel with the spine of the book. The newcomer stares Dominator down, not at all intimidated by his size, his presence or his malice.
Ace Anderson: Who is that!?
Jerry Andrews: That’s one of PCW’s newest acquisitions; a hot new talent from Japan. That’s Nikki Kuro! And, if I may point out, this is who Muscles Malone was MEANT to have faced here tonight.
Dominator looks straight down at Nikki, who does not relent as she glares at the towering Zenith. The height different must be 2 feet or more! Horacio beckons Dominator to stand aside, looking at his watch all the while. Perhaps reluctantly, Dominator steps to one side in order to allow Nikki Kuro to pass. She does not take her eyes off Dominator until she reaches the ring apron. From there, Dominator and Mortimer continue up the ramp and onto the stage, heading through the curtain and through to the back. Knowing that she is safe from any potential attack from the Underground King, she slips into the ring.
Ace Anderson: She’s one lucky girl. Good job Dominator has a schedule to stick to, not to mention he just wasted a whole lot of time on Muscles McSchmuckles here.
Jerry Andrews: I think she’d be able to handle herself. More than you know.
Nikki looks across the ring to Malone, who is pulling himself up to his feet using one of the ring ropes, clutching his burnt chest with the other, sucking in air through his teeth. He is barely able to stand as Kuro stares at him through slightly concerned eyes. However, perhaps out of respect for someone who would voluntarily put themselves in the crosshairs of someone like Dominator, she offers him her hand while sitting on the middle ring rope, dropping it down to provide ease of access. She rests her black book on the mat by her feet. Malone staggers across the ring, uncertain of what her true intentions might be, but slaps Nikki’s hand aside discourteously, practically shoving her off the rope. As he goes to step through the ropes, he kicks the black book out of the way. It falls to the ground; open and face down, one of the pages fold over in the corner. The crowd boo this egocentric move as he looks at Nikki with disgust… but his dismissive look is nothing compared to the seething expression on Kuro’s face.
Ace Anderson: Maybe she’s not his type!
Malone motions to climb out of the ring, but suddenly Nikki Kuro grabs him by the arm and yanks him back into the ring to a sea of cheers. Nikki hits an Arm Drag and begins wrenching on the muscular arm of Malone with an armbar! Malone cannot free himself, even in spite of the fact that one of his arms is practically the size of Kuro’s torso.
Ace Anderson: He’s got the look, but he doesn’t have the power or the skill.
Jerry Andrews: It doesn’t matter what the situation might be. That is NOT how you treat a lady. ESPECIALLY one that is just trying to look out for you. As a rookie herself, she probably understands the feelings he must be going through. But to have it thrown back in her face, she is at least strong enough not to stand for it!
Referee Manny Cruz intervenes, telling Nikki to let go. She gets up and begins talking to him in her Mother Tongue. The official explains something to her, pointing down at Muscles for a moment, who is trying to get back up to his feet, nursing his injuries. Whatever the referee has said, it seems to have reached Nikki’s ears. She nods with a sense of agreement and begins to pace along one side of the ring. The referee beckons for Sasha Greene to come to ringside, leaning half way out of the ropes in order to speak to her. In acknowledgment, she lifts the microphone to her mouth.
Sasha Greene: The following contest is scheduled for one fall!
Fans (in unison): ONE FALL!
Sasha Greene: Introducing first, making her PCW debut. From Shukunegi, Japan… NIKKI KURO!!!
The fans let out thunderous cheers! Nikki Kuro looks focused! Sasha Greene’s smile quickly fades. She speaks far less excitedly about her opponent when introducing him.
Sasha Greene: And her opponent… ugh…. From Toronto, Canada, Muscles Malone…
Sasha’s enthusiasm for the man is completely depleted at this point. The fans boo Muscles, who is screaming at the referee in protest as to why he should wrestle two matches in one night. Manny is having none of it and calls for the bell.
Singles Match
Nikki Kuro vs. Muscles Malone
Referee: Manny Cruz
DING DING DING!
Jerry Andrews: Well, here we go again, I guess.
Malone is barely even able to stand, but he is STILL trying to argue with Referee Manny Cruz. Nikki Kuro grabs Muscles’ arm once more and drags him down, locking in a vicious-looking Gogoplata! Malone’s screams are muffled as Kuro continues to tear away at Malone. The fans are cheering Nikki on!
Jerry Andrews: There’s the Final Chapter locked in by Kuro!
Malone cannot take the pain. HE’S TAPPING OUT FOR THE SECOND TIME IN ONE NIGHT!
DING DING DING!
Sasha Greene: Here is your winner; NIKKI KURO!
Ace Anderson: In record time, too! I’ve seen Razor Blade matches that have lasted longer than that!
Jerry Andrews: I don’t think even Horacio Mortimer has a watch that could count how short that match was!
Nikki Kuro continues to apply that devastating Gogoplata to Muscles Malone. Manny Cruz tries to force Nikki to release the hold, but she refuses! Muscles is fading fast! Eventually, she lets go, a slightly crazed look fills her eyes as she stares down at the barely conscious Malone. She suddenly snaps out of her trance like state, covering her hands with her mouth almost apologetically before the referee lifts her arm into the air in victory.
Jerry Andrews: Not the best night if your name is Muscles Malone…
Ace Anderson: But an impressive showcase of submission by Nikki Kuro on her quote-unquote ‘debut.’
Jerry Andrews: Neither Kuro or Malone were employed by PCW prior to the announcement of their match. It was merely a showcase for the fans. From what I’m hearing through my earpiece, the management are going to invite Kuro back for what will hopefully be a more competitive contest, possibly at Trauma 231.
Ace Anderson: Let’s hope she’s ready!
The fans cheer for Nikki Kuro, whose victory may or may not have been thanks to Dominator’s earlier attack on her opponent, as she quickly dives out of the ring to retrieve her precious black book. She is on her hands and knees trying to scrape out the folding line where the page had been bent. She closes the book forcefully, pinching the area of the book with the affected fold and backs herself up along the entrance ramp. She still looks a little uncertain of the reaction. Clearly this is all new to her. However, she thanks the fans with a very quick wave before disappearing into the back.
Back stage.
Down there.
Fresh off his emphatic victory in the first round of the 2018 Icemann Invitational Tournament, Grimm stands in front of Hiroshi Yukio’s dressing room. Yukio has also advanced by defeating the enigma known as Razor Blade, but now…now the brackets show that his reward for success is facing the Hangtown Horror.
Who stands right outside his door.
Visualize, and attack.
Grimm opens the door and steps inside. Let’s be blunt. It is difficult enough when you see him coming and all is sanctioned (see also: Grimm’s career). When he materializes like this out of context, when there is no way to brace yourself against the sudden, silent onslaught (and it is the silence that can be most perplexing), well…Yukio’s response would be almost comical if the scene wasn’t so disturbing. Grimm attacks as a whirling dervish, the Backwoods Brawler putting on a clinic for anyone attempting to study his Science of Eight Limbs. Yukio roars in response, grabbing, lurching, but it is as if Grimm sees three moves in advance.
Visualize, and attack.
A guerrilla assault of utmost severity. A water pitcher shatters against the back of the oaf’s head. A folding chair bends from a series of strikes against the broad back of the disgraced sumo. Yukio staggers, but there is no denying he is an enormous man. As such, that comes with certain advantages no matter the situation. And that, dear reader, is why Grimm must methodically dismantle him piece by piece. Those tree trunk legs, more specifically. Strong as they are, they have a lot of mass to carry around and even a sumo’s legs can take only so much abuse. Include some well-timed Dead Reckonings and even the sturdiest of men will have had their fill. Thus, we see the inevitable, shuddering finale moments before it happens.
The Harvest.
Grimm stands over his fallen opponent. There among the shards of glass, the ruined chair, Yukio lays face down in a puddle. A person can drown in an inch or two of water, but Grimm is sure he’ll be fine.
Visualize, and attack.
Grimm exhales and blinks. He stands outside the door. Who is he kidding, the room is empty. Hiroshi and Alexa are probably off in an undisclosed location, all dark and foreboding, holding a strategy session, or whatever passes for such a thing with those two. Regardless, this is neither the time nor place for such a catastrophe. That night will be here soon enough.
The Lord of Misrule squeezes his black glove-clad left hand. The leather squeaks under the pressure. The tension is palpable, straining for release.
Soon enough.
He turns and walks down the hallway. Fluorescent bulbs buzz along the ceiling. Each one flickers and sizzles out in turn as he passes underneath. Grimm’s lean silhouette dissipates down the ever-darkening passage, leaving nothing but the dull roar of the events topside.
Sasha Greene: The following contest is scheduled for...?
She holds the mic in the air.
The Faithful (loud and proud): ONE FALL!
Sasha Greene: Introducing first…
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.
Sasha Greene: From Toronto, Ontario, Canada. He weighs One hundred and Ninety five pounds, here is HIGH TIDE!
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 on to 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…
The arena plunges into darkness. It feels longer than it really is, but the point is driven home. What exactly is going on? The lighting of a single candle answers that.
Destiny Willard is on the apron holding this. High Tide can’t help himself when there is a woman present. Not even a married one. Destiny stands pat as he walks over. She blows out the candle. When the lights return, Seromine is directly behind the pirate, wide-eyed and about to strike. He breaks out of his crucifix pose, wrapping his arms around High Tide and propelling him with a LEAPING German suplex, making sure to crush his head and neck on the landing. The impact is absolutely sickening. An evil smirk is flashed by Mrs. Willard outside of the ring, as she demands the bell be rung. The referee, after checking on Tide, does just that.
Icemann Invitational Tournament Preliminary Round Match
High Tide vs Seromine
Referee: Nigel Gale
DING!
DING!
DING!
Not giving a single damn about the deafening boos of the faithful, a possessed Seromine launches into the Absolution stomp. All eighteen shots having something extra behind them. High Tide is pulled into an arm trap neckbreaker. As he clutches to his neck, Seromine lays next to him, mocking his pain. High Tide is brought to his feet. Seromine kicks both of his knees from the front, folding High Tide backwards on pinned legs. He hits the ropes and returns to double stomp him on the chest. Tide slowly rolls himself onto his stomach. He begins to crawl away from the uber aggressive Serpentine Sermonizer.
Seromine pounces on him. High Tide is drug to his feet, spun like he were a discus, and sent sliding out of the ring under the bottom rope. Tide goes splat on the floor and is immediately rolling into a ball. Seromine charges out of the ring. Tide is rolled onto his back. He frantically squirms against his larger opponent. Seromine wraps his arms around his legs. A quick turn of the hips and High Tide is swung head first into the rail. Seromine next falls onto his back, slinging Tide into the front row fans. An emotionless Seromine rolls in and out of the ring to break the count.
The faithful, who have always hated his damn guts, make sure he hears what they think. Seromine decides to temporarily bask in their negative energy. “REPENT, SINNERS, REPENT!” is what he has to tell them. Seromine reaches over to grab himself a handful of High Tide. The pirates catches him by surprise, however. Seromine is pulled face first into the rail, spinning him away from the action. Destiny watches with slight concern from around the ring post. Her eyes widen as Tide uses said rail for a springboard. Seromine is caught in a tornado DDT! Destiny slithers around the ring steps as she starts to approach. The referee stops her dead. She responds by smiling innocently and drawing a halo around her head.
Jerry Andrews: Seromine is dangerous enough on his own. You add in his wife, and it becomes double trouble. Good thing the referee was there to assist High Tide and make sure things are fair.
Ace Anderson: If fair, you mean FAVOR, then yeah. Sure. He’s doing his job by hating OUR Lord and Savior.
Jerry Andrews: Oh, brother…
Seromine is rolled into the ring. High Tide massages his neck after he rolls in after him. He stops him cold with a dropkick. Seromine rushes back to his feet, only to take another one for his troubles. Tide side steps a rush. Seromine barrel rolls under a jumping heel kick. Seromine hits High Tide with a pele kick, knocking him backwards into the ropes. Tide catches him with a spear! Or does he…? Seromine rolls the momentum through with a leaping brainbuster DDT. He floats Tide to his feet, converting things into a triple Northern Lights, the last of which has Tide flung out onto the floor.
Not known as a high flyer, Seromine hits the ropes and comes diving over the top...and onto the apron. He wags his finger at the faithful, while Destiny has herself a laugh fest nearby. Seromine drops to the floor to go collect High Tide. The pirate is sent into the ring post. Seromine takes a moment to share a kiss with Destiny before he goes back on the hunt. A shining wizard keeps High Tide down. That is until Seromine throws him back inside of the ring. He follows inside and pounces with some vicious elbow strikes, some of which Tide is able to protect his face from.
Seromine forcefully sends Tide into the corner. Seromine is stunned with boots to the face. High Tide runs through for a schoolboy...sort of. Seromine is on his knees. He eats a DDT. Tide reaches into Davy Jones Locker for an early second wind. Seromine is met with stinging knife edge chops. They back him into the ropes. Irish whip. High Tide this time hits a jumping heel kick. Seromine is rolled through the ropes and onto a knee outside of the ring. High Tide picks the perfect moment to come flying with a springboard moonsault! Seromine is knocked to the rail. Destiny watches from under the bottom rope, eyes narrowed, gears turning. High Tide wisely gets back inside of the ring as she comes to her husband’s side.
Jerry Andrews: High Tide is finding himself some success here, keeping Seromine off balance with his high flying abilities.
Ace Anderson: On any other night, off balance to High Tide would be too much rum. But in the ring, he is known for his acrobatics.
Destiny helps Seromine to his feet. She puts her back to the ring to keep him shield. With an arm around one another, they begin to talk strategy. They break and Seromine takes his time to get back into the ring. His eyes never leave where High Tide is. Seromine...applauds the moonsault? High Tide, like everyone else, seems confused. Seromine extends a hand out with a disingenuous smile to go with it. Destiny yells at him to accept out of “goodwill,” drawing his attention for a split second. That’s all it took. Seromine BLASTS High Tide with a discus forearm, knocking him damn near out of his boots. Seromine grabs the ropes and begins to stomp Tide in the throat, over and over and over.
Tide is pulled into a knee to the gut, doubling him. Seromine drives the same knee into the same spot into the double digits, as he is focused on completely taking the wind out of High Tide’s sails. Dangerously close to being disqualified for ignoring the five count, Seromine levels High Tide with a gutbuster. He aggressively gets in the face of the referee, demanding to know if he’s happy now? The referee explains the rules to him, but is ignored. Seromine backs himself off the ropes, returning to punt kick High Tide in the ribs. Tide rolls himself to the ropes as he struggles to breathe. Seromine only makes matters worse as he chokes him in the ropes. Breaking at four, Seromine puts an arm around the referee. He leads him away and begins to explain to the REF what the rules are.
This is a ruse for Destiny to continue where her husband left off, drawing instant heat from the faithful.
Seromine can be heard “apologizing” as he breaks from the official. Destiny winks at Seromine before pretending to be a good girl outside of the ring. High Tide finds his legs being hooked for the second time. A slingshot here has his throat and the bottom rope meeting each other. Tide kicks the canvas as he heaves and wheezes for air. Seromine gives no fucks about his struggles. He drags Tide away, only to shove him in the corner. Seromine blocks the line of sight as he strangles High Tide with the tag rope. The referee pries himself in just in time to catch the rope being released. Seromine mouths the words “fuck you, Satan!” to the referee as High Tide is driven down with a gutwrench suplex. Seromine manipulates his head back so that his neck is arched in the air. Seromine STOMPS his windpipe. Tide sells out like he is having a seizure. Seromine gleefully bends his arms in the air, drawing what can only be considered ‘nuclear heat’ for his actions.
“PRAY FOR THE PIRATE, BROTHERS AND SISTERS!”
Jerry Andrews: Seromine is nothing more than a vile false prophet. A leopard never changes its spots, Ace. Both he and his wife will burn in hell!
Ace Anderson: You should really take more naps, Jerry, you’re being awfully grumpy.
High Tide is whipped to the ropes. Sleeperhold. Roddy Piper would approve. A crazed Seromine has it locked in like an anaconda. High Tide swings at the air, reaching for the ropes which must seem like a mirage at this point. Fans don’t exactly have any love for High Tide these days, but they rally behind him against the despised Jason Willard. Seromine shakes his head, letting the fans know that they can’t save him, only GOD can, and he won’t be doing it tonight. High Tide starts to get wobbly. Destiny motions for him to go to sleep. Tide collapses. Seromine tightens the hold. The referee is there to check. Tide’s right arm is raised. It falls limp.
ONE!
The arm is raised again and once more, it falls limp.
TWO!
Fans try their hardest to root High Tide back to life. The third fall…FALLS SHORT. Destiny is in disbelief as she channels her inner Macaulay. Seromine shake his head frantically. High Tide starts to work his way back up. Elbow after elbow after elbow to the midsection. Tide stomps the feet of Seromine. Over the shoulder DDT! Tide pulls on the ropes to work himself back up to a vertical base. Seromine is clobbered with a forearm smash. Tide uses the ropes to bounce off. Hurricanrana! Seromine finds himself the proud recipient of a sling blade. High Tide presses as Seromine is moved into the corner. Seromine takes multiple stomps to the midsection. Tide hops to the ropes. Ten shots to the head! Seromine staggers out of the corner. High Tide reaches back and before he can punch, Seromine falls backwards. Tide steps onto the apron. Springboard 450! He hooks the legs!
1!
2!
Seromine kicks out! Seromine is pulled up and brought back down to earth with a Falcon Arrow! Destiny slams her hands frantically on the apron, pleading with hubby to get back up. High Tide is still favoring his throat during all of this. Seromine finds himself eating a slingshot now, one that sends him face first to the corner. Spaghetti legged, he turns and takes a spear!! High Tide backs to the opposite corner. He runs...cannonball splash!! Seromine is slumped in the ropes. Destiny races to try and pull him out of the ring. High Tide manages to get him away before she reaches. He gets a death stare for his tactic. Seromine is pulled to his feet. Tide kicks him in the gut. He slowly climbs the buckles. Seromine stands back up…
High Tide sends himself into the camera flashes with a shooting star…he winds up landing on his feet as the DDT portion of OFF THE PLANK misses. DISCUS CLOTHESLINE TURNS HIGH TIDE INSIDE OUT! Holy cow, Seromine put everything he had behind that one. He remains down on his hands and knees, trying to gather where he is for a minute or two. He side eyes the crushed High Tide and it’s like a light goes off in his head. High Tide is ripped onto his feet and pulled into a short-arm clothesline. A vicious looking DDT realigns his spine to complete ASHES TO ASHES! Seromine rolls over for the pin.
1!
2!
3!
The bell is called for.
Sasha Greene: Here is the winner of the match, Seromine!
He orders the referee out of the ring, refusing to have his arm raised by anyone other than his wife. High Tide is forcefully pushed out of the ring as “Be Still For the Presence of the Lord” clashes with the mass booing.
...that is until the World Champ arrives!
Jerry Andrews: Kyle Shane is here!
Ace Anderson: What a glory hog! He wasn’t booked in a match!
Kyle smugly walks out with the World Title held high in the air. He is shown taunting Seromine over beating him for it. This is further driven home with footage of their match rolling on the tron. Seromine looked more angered by the interruption than the truth of the footage, of which Destiny covers his eyes from. Kyle tells them to have a good night as he laughs himself silly to the back.
Jerry Andrews: Kyle Shane has certainly made his presence known here tonight!
Ace Anderson: He thinks he can just go wherever he wants and do whatever he wants, doesn't he?
Jerry Andrews: Well... tonight he kind of did. Good night everyone!
- CLICK -
