Post by Rick Majors on Sept 12, 2019 22:32:08 GMT -5
Pure Class Wrestling Trauma
Thursday September 12th, 2019
Jerry Andrews: Welcome everyone to another PACKED episode of Trauma! As always, I am Jerry Andrews and I am joined by...
Ace Anderson: Ace Anderson and, woah, am I ever excited for tonight! Let's get to the ring!
Sasha Greene: The following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first.
The lush, dreamlike carnival sound of "Carousel" by Siouxsie and the Banshees, turns the arena cotton candy colorful with sweeping up and down rotations of blue, purple, and pink light. The faithful are soon booing in mass unison as mother and son emerge through wispy stage fog.
Sasha Greene: Being led to the ring by Lucy Willard...from Anaheim, California...weighing 250 lbs, JASON WILLARD!
While Siouxsie Sioux delivers eerie descriptions about a child's view of the carnival and the titular ride over a pulsing synth line, Lucy guides Jason by his right hand to the ring. His childlike behavior is on display while he keeps close to his parent. There's a moment where he reaches out to the hands of the faithful, but he recoils, foolishly thinking they could be trusted or wanted to be friends. Lucy sternly admonishes them as they work their way into the ring.
Jason sheepishly waves to the commentary team and then approaches his mom for a big hug in the center of the ring. They exchange kisses on the cheek before he assists her to ringside. He now waits for the opponent with all of the enthusiasm of a child on Christmas morning.
Jerry Andrews: This is an interesting development. Jason Willard has brought his mommy back. Was his wife needed elsewhere?
Ace Anderson: You should have more respect, Jerry.
Sasha Greene: And his opponent!
The PCW Arena is plugged into darkness as the opening hook to "Amazing" by Kanye West blasts out over the PA. Suddenly a spotlight blasts down onto the stage, revealing Gerard Angelo down on one knee with his back to the crowd, hood pulled low over his face. He bursts suddenly to his feet, spinning around to face the PCW Faithful as the house lights come on, leading to the Faithful erupting into cheers as he pulls his hood back. Gerard smirks as he surveys the fans from behind his sunglasses, extending his arms as if absorbing the energy from the crowd.
Sasha Greene: From Hollywood, California, weighing in at 221 pounds, he is "The Hollywood Hero", GERARD ANGELO!
Gerry walks down the ramp, cocky and confident as always, pointing at the fans wearing his merch, telling them they made a solid investment. He stops at the ring stairs and slaps the top step before climbing them, and walking to the center of the ring apron. Angelo surveys the PCW Arena once more before slipping through the middle and top rope into the ring. He runs to the opposite ring post and leaps onto the second turnbuckle. Gerry points to the crowd before unzipping his hoodie, pulling it off and tossing it to the Faithful. "The Hollywood Hero" hops down and removes his trademark sunglasses as he leans against the turnbuckles, awaiting the bell.
Jerry Andrews: Gerard has a bit of a score to settle here, given what transpired at the end of the tag match on our last broadcast.
Ace Anderson: Oh, wah wah wah. He was victorious. He has nothing to be angry about.
Jerry Andrews: He was hit with a shoe, Ace. A shoe.
Ace Anderson: And that awarded him a win by disqualification!
Singles Match
Jason Willard vs Gerard Angelo
Referee: Tyrone Little Jr.
DING!
DING!
Gerry seems as confused as everyone else about the sudden switch back to the childlike personality Willard most recently showed as Seromine. He watches as Willard has Tyrone Little hold his arms up in a circle. Following that, an invisible basketball is dribbled and taken in for a dunk. Willard celebrates it like it will make the top ten on Sportscenter. Unlike his arrogant opponent, Willard is a team player.
He passes the ball to Gerard, but he stands his ground with a perplexed look on his face. Willard enthusiastically coaches Gerard to take his turn. The Hollywood Hero holds his hands up as if to say, "I'm not having any part of this." His enthusiasm doesn't waver until he realizes that he won't be getting his ball back. He turns to his mom, now seated by the announce table.
"Mommy! He doesn't want to play! Tell him to give me the ball back!"
Lucy's eyes grow wide. Her lips sneering at Gerard as she proceeds to stand up. Gerard quickly turns his head in her direction as she approaches. Willard goes right after him, thinking that he may try to do something. Gerard turns just in time to get blasted full force with a forearm. He slinks between the ropes but Willard is relentless in pummeling him as aggressively as anyone has ever seen him.
"Give it back to me!" He yells while choking him over the middle rope. "Mommy says you have to, Gerry! It's mine! Mine! Mine!" Lucy has to calm the waters to prevent her son from incurring another disqualification. He looks at her with saucer eyes, unaware that he was in danger of the five count being met. As she caresses him, he begins to balance out. Lucy returns her seat.
Jerry Andrews: I'm at a loss about what to say. It seems like ever since Grimm injured him, Jason Willard hasn't been the same.
Ace Anderson: The same could be said for Gerard losing twice to the same Hangtown Horror.
Willard refocuses on Gerard while apologizing profusely to Tyrone. Gerry is brought to his feet, at which point he gets the crowd fired up by landing quick strikes to the head of Willard. Gerard is successful with a back body drop and a trio of clotheslines. Willard wisely rolls out of the ring, but before he can say "A boy's best friend is his mother," Gerard is on top of him with a suicide plancha.
Lucy can only watch in horror as Gerard continues with the advantage. He lights up Willard's chest with some of the hardest knife edge chops ever heard in PCW. Willard tries to get away as he covers up, but Gerard gives him a European uppercut before sending him back inside. Gerry tags some hands, but returns to the ring with enough time to hit a springboard shooting star press! He makes the cover.
1.
2.
Willard kicks out with little trouble. Gerard picks him up and heads to a corner. Russian leg sweep! Willard clings to the back of his head following the impact. Gerard runs the ropes, returning with a basement dropkick square to the face. Willard collapses and seems to try rolling slowly under the bottom rope, but Gerard prevents it. Lucy casts a glare at Gerard, but otherwise remains seated.
Willard is picked up in a delayed vertical suplex. This turns into a brainbuster. Gerard is quick to leap onto the top rope with a springboard. Stunt Double finds nothing bit knees! Gerard cradles him into a ball with his midsection grasped. Willard takes enough time to shake the cobwebs out before looking to where Lucy is. He's relieved to see her and now can focus on the matter at hand.
Jerry Andrews: Gerard tried hitting one of his signatures early and it didn't pay off. But he was on fire up until then.
Willard "checks" to see if The Hollywood Hero is okay, only to keep asking over and over following continuous double stomps to the midsection like he were on a pogo stick. Willard ducks out of the ring long enough to get a quick hug. Lucy tells him that she's proud of what he's doing and to keep up the good work!
Fortified with positive reinforcement, Willard slithers back into the ring. Gerard is bull rushed into the nearest corner. Willard lays in the knees, switching between them after he hits five. Tyrone has his authority respected this time, but Willard runs his shoulder through Gerard and then launches him with a release belly-to-belly suplex. Willard cartwheels over to him. He backs against the ropes and WHAM! A devastating punt kick that makes Gerard kiss the canvas. There's a pin.
1.
2.
Gerard kicks out. Willard asks the referee about the missing number, but is given an explanation. He takes a balloon out of his pocket. He blows it up and ties a knot. Willard puts it next to Gerard's face, procures a sewing pin, then pops it! Gerry is startled by the noise and likely has his ears ringing. Willard rolls out onto the apron. Then picks his spot as Gerard starts to rise. "Watch this, mommy! I can fly!" He propels himself with a springboard and does in fact land a successful Star Light, Star Bright! He covers again following the signature move.
1.
2.
Gerard kicks out, giving the faithful hope and happiness as they rally to his aid. GERRY! GERRY! GERRY! Willard puts his fingers in his ears to try and block out the noise. For her part, Lucy yells at them to quiet down, but the faithful are having none of it. Willard rolls out of the ring, looking tempestuous. He stomps his feet, pulls at his hair, then goes into a full tantrum over the support for Gerard.
Lucy is right there to console him about it without a care in the world about what others think. She gets him to look at her. She smiles, but pushes his lips up to make one of his own. There's a pleading look in her eyes. Jason can't deny the simple request. He smiles back at her, which of course, fills her with happiness.
Jerry Andrews: Good grief. I don't think I've seen a bigger mommy's boy than him. I'm not so sure Grimm caused this now...
Ace Anderson: Mothers are very special people. But I wouldn't expect you to understand that. Yours is probably embarrassed.
Jerry Andrews: There's still a match going on. All this is doing is giving Gerard time to recover and you know what? I hope he wins! I'll proudly say it again. I hope Gerard wins!
Ace Anderson: Biased, much?
Willard gets a gentle pat or two on the behind before racing back inside of the ring. Gerard ducks an attempted discus lariat, countering instead with a neckbreaker! With both men down, the count is on.
1!
2!
3!
4!
5!
6!
They start stirring.
7!
GERRY! GERRY! GERRY!
8!
They're up and nothing Willard does finds the mark. Unless the mark is air. Gerard peppers him with strike after strike, bobbing and weaving, shaking and baking past return fire. One lunge gets him turned around in a spinebuster! Gerard rolls to his feet and makes sure Lucy is watching when he tells her to kiss his ass.
Jerry Andrews: Gerard has seized ALL of the momentum in this match!
Willard is blasted with One Hit Wonder! He takes a fall like a redwood after eating boot. Gerard goes right for the pin.
1!
2!
3---SHOULDER!
Gerard wastes little time in following up with a trio of suplexes, the last of which plants Willard dead center in the ring. It didn't work the first time, but there's a take two...STUNT DOUBLE is successful! Willard has the air driven out of him. Gerard hooks the legs.
1!
2!
3---KICK OUT!
Jerry Andrews: That was CLOSE! If PCW had an instant replay, it would be getting a second look right now.
Ace Anderson: I also have the number of a good optometrist. I'm worried that your eyes are failing you.
Gerard was positive it was three, but doesn't lose his focus. Willard is pulled up by the hair and sent crashing into a corner. Gerard charges. Willard drops and crawls to safety, not realizing Gerry is standing on the middle ropes. Lucy is frantically warning about that fact. Jason gulps and turns around, taking a blockbuster for his troubles.
Gerard motions for the chants and cheers to get louder. He keeps a close eye on Lucy as it appears she's contemplating something devious. Willard is collected to his feet. Gerard slips under him for the start of an electric chair. Lucy is at the apron! Gerard releases her son. Willard waistlocks him! Gerry is ran into a corner and rolled into an attempted German suplex for what would've been When The Bough Breaks, but he winds up on his feet!
Jerry Andrews: Gerard has him seated on his shoulders! Hollywood Ending on the way!
Gerard reaches up to pull Willard's head down. He has him --- there's a rake of the eyes! Willard drops behind Gerry, giving him a shove into the same corner he just ran him into. Gerard hits his head on the top turnbuckle, staggering him backwards. There's a pause in the action...
Ace Anderson: Little Boy Blue! Willard got all of that!
Willard is slow to roll over for the cover. Boos rain down on him. He has a leg hooked.
1!
2!
3!
The referee calls for the bell. Willard slides himself out of the ring. Lucy comes over to place his head near her bosom as she keeps him propped up. He hangs onto her until everything becomes clear again. Tyrone raises his arm in the air.
Sasha Greene: Here is your winner, Jason Willard!
"Carousel" ushers mother and son towards the back. The last thing Jason does is childishly wave "bye-bye" to Gerard.
Jerry Andrews: He got damn lucky and he knows it. Gerard was about to drop him for the win until he reached into his underhanded bag of tricks.
Ace Anderson: I'll admit that Gerard came close to winning the match. But---
Jerry Andrews: Thank you!
The feed cuts to the backstage area as the doors to the parking garage fly open, and through them walks the Force of Nature and company. Still in street clothes, a pair of tattered jeans, orange v-neck t-shirt, and white framed Oakley sunglasses, he struts through the halls like he owns the place, and although he probably could, does, in fact, not.
A black duffel swings from his left shoulder, while his right hand is clutching onto a gorgeous blonde as the camera follows the power couple through the hallway. While Stormm hasn't been one for backstage theatrics in many years, his attitude since Return to Glory has seemingly changed, and even more so since Grimm appeared to accept his challenge.
Exchanging pleasantries with a handful of backstage workers, he and Lindsay ignore anyone in a suit, or the rare occasion they pass another PCW talent on the way to their locker room. He may not be competing later, either, but he's still in the mindset he needs to be in if he were; or perhaps he has plans to get involved somewhere later in the evening.
But while the pompous entrance for the number one contender to the World title continued on a grand stage, something inside his locker room had been brewing since even earlier in the evening. Stormm nodded to the camera, and Lindsay gave a wink as her husband opened the locker room door...
And there, propped in a corner, stands a shovel in all its horrible glory. Not the shovel, of course, because there is no feud foul enough for Grimm to leave behind his own well-loved spade. That’s nonsense. This one is shiny and new, one of the signature Hangtown Horror line of shovels available only at Hangtown Hardware.
Looking closer, it is shiny save for the black handprint slapped on the business end of the implement, that is. The handprint is not thin and smeared as though it was simple black paint. No, this is thick and sticky, like someone had used their bare hands to fish mastodon bones out of a tar pit. Then made their mark and carefully situated the gift so as to not be overlooked by anyone, most of all the Force of Nature.
Stormm may have stopped in his tracks, but he did not flinch, and he did not waver, he simply smiled.
As Trauma returns, we see Shane Dodge who is with Holden Ross as he exits his Caddy. He hooks the strap of his duffle bag over his shoulder and rolls his eyes at Shane and the camera.
Holden Ross: What? What do you want?
Shane Dodge: Last week, you and the North American Champion, David Hunter, may have ended the career of Elijah Dixon before it even had a chance to bloom! How can you look yourself in the mirror?
Holden smirks at the interviewer.
Holden Ross: I love what I see in the mirror! And tonight I’ll be crowned the new Underground King. Poor Razor, he like some old bloodhound bitch; you can whip him repeatedly and he will keep comin back. Tonight, I promise you this, Shane, they’re gonna need a squeegee and a mop to clean up the blood that’s gonna be spilled.
Shane Dodge: We will have E.M.S. on standby…
Holden Ross: The Sins of the Father can only be outdone by the Sins of the Son.
Holden leaves Shane, confused, and heads off camera. Back to ringside.
Sasha Greene: The following non-title match is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first...
The lights go out. The crowd cheers instinctively before eventually falling silent. Suddenly the sound of guitars pierce through the silence. "Wastelands" by Linkin Park begins to boom throughout the arena, the lights in the building flashing along with the drum beat of the song. Then, from the entrance way, steps Rick Majors.
Sasha Greene: ... from Toronto, Ontario: RICK MAJORS!
Wearing a black denim military jacket, a grey t-shirt, and jeans, Rick Majors pauses for a moment and looks down briefly. He then looks up and starts to make his way to the ring.
"This is war with no weapons,
Marching with no stepping,
Murder with no killing,
Illing every direction."
Majors walks slowly, looking out around the arena as he continues his way down to the ring.
"And no, I'm not afraid of that
Print it in your paperback
Every rap is made in fact
To act as a delayed attack
Every phrase a razor blade
That's saved until they play it back
To slay and leave em laying on the pavement
Bang, fade to black"
The lights in the arena burst on fully as the song's chorus hits.
"In the wastelands of today,
When there's nothing left to lose,
And and there's nothing more to take,
But you force yourself to choose,
In the wastelands of today,
When tomorrow disappears
When the future slips away,
And your hope turns into fear,
In the wastelands of today."
Majors climbs the ring steps and pauses. He turns towards the crowd, standing on the ring apron for a moment before entering the ring. Majors stands in the centre of the ring, looking out towards the crowd, awaiting his opponent.
Jerry Andrews: This is a non-title match, but you have to figure Rick Majors could get himself into the title picture with a win here tonight.
Ace Anderson: He could also get himself into an extended hospital stay if he's not careful!
Sasha Greene: And his opponent...
The lights shift to a sickly shade of yellow. A pale glow, as if the arena has been cast in the harvest moon’s reflection off the season’s first killing frost. With the sound of a sharp nib scratching across a ragged sheet of parchment, a sepia-toned cursive scrawls grimm across the PCW-Tron. The name flickers in the guttering candle light.
Thump. Clap. Thump. Clap. An incessant electric tremolo. The deep end of a piano. The ebb and flow of a dissonant wail builds to a wall of noise as Zeal and Ardor’s “You Ain’t Coming Back (Instrumental)" breaks forth upon the masses, heralding the arrival of Grimm.
A lone silhouette steps out onto the entry way, and as it begins the long walk to the ring, candle wax drips onto the parchment. The lights fall into a pestilential throbbing, in and out of time with the discordance raging from the speakers. The Hangtown Horror remains deadset on the ring, steadfast in his approach. He climbs onto the apron and slides between the ropes. Hopping upon a turnbuckle, he casts his gaze out over the crowd with his arms at his side, eyes shifting to take in the sea of faces spread out before him. Grimm then drops down. And waits.
Sasha Greene: He is the PCW World Champion: GRIMM!
Non-Title Match
Singles Match
Singles Match
Grimm (PCW World ©) vs Rick Majors
Referee: Ed Lane
Jerry Andrews: Interesting strategy here…
Ace Anderson: It looks like Rick Majors wants no part of Grimm. And can you blame him?
Majors takes a moment to compose himself, and then re-enters the ring. Grimm again goes for grapple. This time Majors kicks him in the midsection. Another kick doubles Grimm over. Majors locks him in a side headlock, but Grimm easily powers out. He then turns and clotheslines Majors to the mat.
Jerry Andrews: Boom! What a clothesline!
Ace Anderson: And now you can see why Majors was trying to avoid him earlier. The World Champion doesn’t mess around.
Majors gets to his feet, but Grimm takes him down with a spinebuster. He delivers a few stiff forearm’s to Majors’ face before pulling him up. Grimm connects with a suplex. He stays on Majors, driving his elbow into his face while pulling him up and backing him into the corner. Grimm drapes Majors arms on the ropes and then delivers a few hard kicks to the midsection, sending Majors crumbling to the mat.
Jerry Andrews: Grimm is just so tough to stop once he gets started like this.
Grimm pulls Majors up and out of the corner, then connects with a fisherman’s suplex for a cover:
1….
2…
Jerry Andrews: Majors kicks out!
Grimm stays on him, hitting a few more forearms to the face. He then pulls him up, only to send him back down to the mat with a DDT. Another cover:
1….
2…
Ace Anderson: Another kickout. It looks like Grimm is trying to wear Majors down with these frequent covers.
Jerry Andrews: It looks like you’re right as Grimm hits Foddershock and goes for another cover!
1…
2….
Ace Anderson: Rick gets the shoulder up in time. And, of course I'm right!
Grimm pulls Majors up. Headbutt. Headbutt. Headbutt.
Jerry Andrews: Rick Majors getting hit with Dead Reckoning now!
Ace Anderson: I’m not sure how much more of this he can take!
Majors collapses to the mat. Grimm covers again:
1….
2….
Jerry Andrews: Three! No! A kickout again!
Ace Anderson: Just barely.
Grimm pulls Majors up once more, only to take him down with a big lariat. He waits for his opponent to get to his feet. Majors slowly staggers up… big boot to the face!
Jerry Andrews: Grimm putting on a clinic of pain here!
Ace Anderson: That’s why he is our World Champion.
Majors slowly rolls to the ropes and tries to pull himself up. Grimm grabs him and yanks him up the rest of the way. Majors suddenly hits him with a chinbreaker, buying himself some time. Grimm composes himself and walks towards his opponent. Majors grabs him and rolls him up:
1…
2….
Jerry Andrews: Rick Majors almost surprising Grimm there!
Both competitors stand up, Grimm more quickly that Majors. Grimm rushes forward with another strong lariat. This time Majors ducks. He then turns and hits a strong knee strike to Grimm’s back. Grimm staggers forward and hits the corner. Majors runs and connects with another running knee to the back. He then rolls up Grimm from behind:
1…
2…
Grimm kicks out. Again, both men stand. This time Grimm’s lariat connects, nearly sending Majors inside out! Grimm with a cover:
1…
2…
Majors kicks out! Grimm pulls Majors up. Majors hits him with an elbow to the head, staggering the champion. Majors runs forward and this time he’s the one to clothesline his opponent down. Majors takes a moment to catch his breath, and Grimm gets to his feet. Majors hits him with a side kick, followed by a roundhouse kick to the head. Grimm goes down to one knee. Majors grabs him and tries a DDT, but Grimm breaks free and Majors falls to the mat without his opponent. Both competitors stand. Majors swings wildly. Grimm blocks and Majors is spun around.
Jerry Andrews: Another Foddershock!
Grimm gets up and he waits for his opponent to stand…. THE HARVEST!
Jerry Andrews: He hit it!
Ace Anderson: The cover!
Jerry Andrews: No!
Stormm has hit the ring! The referee calls for the bell, awarding Grimm the match by disqualification as Stormm stomps away on the World Champion.
Jerry Andrews: Stormm just cost Grimm a pinfall victory here!
Ace Anderson: And now he’s stomping the hell out of him!
Majors slowly rises to his feet using the ropes, but then he’s suddenly cracked across the back with a steel chair by…
Jerry Andrews: JASON WILLARD!
Willard unloads on Majors with a series of shots, sending him crumpling to the floor in pain. Willard now turns around and… he’s face-to-face with Stormm.
Ace Anderson: There’s certainly no love lost between these two!
However, before anything can happen between the two, Gerard Angelo hits the ring, shoving Willard from behind and sending him crashing into Stormm!
Jerry Andrews: It looks like Gerard Angelo wants to avenge his earlier loss to Willard!
The three competitors end up scuffling with one another, before PCW officials rush out and get between the three of them. Grimm is up now, but he’s prevented from joining in by the security team, so he turns to pick up his championship and leave…. but a stranger at ringside prevents him from doing so. Grimm pauses, trying to understand what’s going on… when he’s attacked from behind by Stormm who somehow broke free from the officials!
Ace Anderson: What is going on here!? Who was that and why was he holding Grimm’s title!?
The security team rushes over to break up the Grimm/Stormm battle… but that means Gerard Angelo can slip away and attack both competitors! It doesn’t last long however, as officials quickly pounce on him and pull him away. Stormm, who is being dragged up the ramp by officials, screams at Gerard: “You had your chance and blew it, this is my time!”
He then turns his attention back to Grimm, who is clearly not amused by any of this. As the chaos finally calms down, Trauma goes to commercial.
Trauma returns with an empty backstage hallway, fluorescent bulbs flickering overhead. Even with all the hustle and bustle that makes an episode of Trauma possible, this particular corridor is bereft both of crew and equipment of any sort. Silence reigns for a moment before the sound of approaching footsteps echo, the clacking of high heels echoing almost like gunshots off the cement brick walls. They come to a stop before a feminine voice that is familiar to the long-timer fans and roster alike graces the ear with the twist of a faint Irish accent.
??: Hello again, PCW.
...and of course, she’s speaking from behind the camera. Seems a certain someone is still a bit leary of stepping in front of a lens, mm?
??: I know that a certain… someone told his master, at the time, that he had me taken care of. That he had been a good little bitch and taken out the mean, mean wrestler that not just saw through that whole cult bullshit, but dismantled it with every word she spoke and every punch she threw. Gabriel was so desperate to get even so much as a shred of praise from his masters that he was willing to commit a cardinal sin; thou shalt not lie to the jackass with a religious saviour complex.
A soft huff of a chuckle.
??: Bet his ass is gonna be chapped when he figures out how Rick pulled the wool over his eyes because no matter if he’s Seromine or the Anarchist, Jason Willard is, was, and will always have his head so far up his ass, it’s a wonder he can see anything beyond the inner workings of his digestive tract. But really, at this point… I’m just preaching to the choir, aren’t I?
One can hear her smirk at that final jab before she continues on.
??: Anyway, charlatan aside, there was a--personal matter that required my full attention, one that only recently came to an end. Now that I can return my focus to the ring, it’s time to finish claiming my rightful place in the history books of PCW--but I’m not going to ride on past glories. No, I’m going to start at the bottom and claw my way to the top of the mountain where a certain devil waits to dance with me in the moonlight for the third time. And if that route includes, say, reclaiming a certain crown and restoring it to its proper glory, well…
A sudden movement and the camera goes down, tumbling to land at the feet of the woman who has been standing behind it… and bringing her into view. Dimly, the crowd can be heard losing its collective shit at the familiar face that is revealed, Brenna Gordon clad in a black leather bomber jacket over a Depeche Mode t-shirt with black jeans and spiky black heels upon her feet. Brenna smirks.
Brenna Gordon: ...all the better.
The sable-haired submissionist blows a kiss at the camera, the motion followed by a little wave before the cameras cut back to ringside.
Sasha Greene: The following contest is scheduled for one fall and it is for the PCW Underground Title!
Jerry Andrews: Holden Ross shouldn't even be allowed in this match! Given his actions, his wallet should be lighter and a suspension handed down!
Ace Anderson: Easy there, disciplinarian. Holden was only reminding everyone of what the Underground is about.
Sasha Greene: From Orlando, Florida, weighing 265 lbs, RAZOR BLADE!
He comes out from the back of the Audience in walks down the steps in high fives his Fans in walks down the stops in Climbs over the barricade in stops for a min in hops on the apron in raise both of us arms in the air in get's down in waits for the bell to ring.
Sasha Greene: And his opponent.
Synthesizers explode from the speakers and the arena is plunged into darkness. Red strobes begin pulsating in time with the music and after about thirty seconds or so, Holden strolls out from the back.
Sasha Greene: Making his way to the ring, standing at six feet, five inches tall! He weighs in at three hundred and twenty-five pounds! He is Holden Roooooosssssss!
Holden makes his way down to the ring, ignoring the fans, apparently all business. He ascendes the ring steps and takes a few steps along the apron before wiping his feet. He enters through the ropes and proceeds to his corner and hands off his jacket to Tabitha with a wink and a smile.
Match for the Vacant PCW Underground Championship
Singles Match - Underground Rules
Singles Match - Underground Rules
Razor Blade vs Holden Ross
Referee: Eric Russo
DING!
DING!
Violence has just been sanctioned and violence, thy name is Holden Ross. The Bastard collides into Razor with every ounce of his three hundred and twenty-five pound frame, sending him flying like a frisbee. Ross works him over with massive stomps to the body. Razor fires off retaliatory shots, only to find out they have little effect.
Ross yanks him off his feet by the throat, displaying his raw power. There's no count that can be administered to save Razor Blade, so Holden is free to continue squeezing the life out of him. That is until a well placed knee to the nose. Holden has no choice but to drop Razor. He clings to his face with watery eyes. Razor's volleys of strikes start having effect on the human wrecking ball.
Jerry Andrews: Razor is just getting started!
Ace Anderson: Only delaying the inevitable.
With Ross against the ropes, Razor takes him out to the floor with a running forearm smash. He hits the ropes at full speed, returning with a suicide dive that shoves Holden against the rail. Razor jabs him with a palm strike and then ducks for cover from an attempted clothesline.
Razor hoists Holden up for a running smash against the ring post. Holden feels no effect from it, so he picks Razor up for a charge into the ring steps, dislodging them on impact. Upon taking Razor to his feet, he's picked up and dropped with a Samoan drop on the base step, landing with an audible thud.
Jerry Andrews: That's a sound you never get used to hearing.
Holden favors his back as he adjusts positioning. Razor crashes the top half of the steel steps into the face of Holden, but The Bastard returns fire by shoving Razor into the ring post. The back of his head cracks against it, while the steps collide with his face.
It's a nasty looking spot.
Holden keeps him trapped there with clothesline after clothesline. He then slams Razor off the post over and over until getting bored with it. Holden throws Razor out of the way. His attention shifts to removing all of the protective mats at ringside, exposing the unforgiving concrete of the arena floor.
Jerry Andrews: This isn't going to end well.
Ace Anderson: Just like Razor's first title defense. Holden Ross was born for the Underground.
Jerry Andrews: How did his first defense go, again? This is a tough title to keep!
Holden goes to get Razor Blade, but only gets a steel chair wrapped around his head. Razor whips him into the ring post, but Holden turns in time so that his body takes the punishment. Razor charges and spears Holden against the post! Holden falls to his knees with his midsection clutched.
Razor removes the now useless steel chair from around Holden. He picks him up. Scoop powerslam! Holden's reaction to the landing tells the entire story. Razor brings him to his feet again and goes for an attempted bearhug. Holden surprises him with a sudden military press and a drop on the guardrail!
Jerry Andrews: OH MY GAWD!
Ace Anderson: Maybe Razor can find mercy in the faithful.
Razor has fallen on the other side, but Holden's back doesn't seem to have any ill effects from the concrete spot. He joins him in the crowd, but waits for him to stand before unleashing a powerful clothesline that spins Razor into a sea of empty chairs. This gives Holden incentive to use one after another to wear him down.
Razor is lifted out of the pile with a heave. Holden catches him mid-air and lands a powerslam on the steel chairs! This is followed with what would've been a buckle bomb in the ring, but instead is delivered on the guardrail. Razor staggers from the impact, gets picked up, then slammed right on the top of the rail with a World's Strongest Slam!
Jerry Andrews: How is the rail not damaged yet??
Ace Anderson: I have no idea, but do have the number for a chiropractor in case Razor Blade needs one.
Razor is left laying on the cold concrete. Holden reaches through the rail in order to grab Razor by the hair. With one pull, Razor is slammed head first into the rail. Again. Again. Again. Holden climbs over while still having a fistful of his hair. He goes to slam him face first off the concrete, but Razor balks, and with that starts drawing cheers out of the boos that had been predominant.
Holden continues in his efforts, but Razor Blade seems to be finding reserve strength in the face of bodily damage. Holden clubs him around the worked over back, but Razor stuns him with an uppercut! Holden finds his inner Taylor Swift and shakes it off. Razor's second uppercut is equally as successful. His third also connects, but the prior damage creeps back in.
Jerry Andrews: Get em, Razor! He's taken some major punishment, but the chance to regain the Underground Title has him taking the fight to The Bastard!
Holden sees an opportunity to turn things around. He moves in. Razor hits a leaping clothesline jawbreaker! Holden staggers to the ring apron. Razor repositions him so that his head is sticking out. He puts a steel chair between that and the ropes...running dropkick! Holden rolls inside of the ring.
RAZOR! RAZOR! RAZOR!
Feeding off the energy of the crowd now, Razor steps into the ring with all of the momentum on his side. Holden is whipped to the corner. Clothesline! Now to the opposite corner. Clothesline! Holden staggers out. Razor goes off the ropes. RAZOR'S EDGE MISSES! Holden has enough coherency to connect with a buckle bomb. Razor is left laying. Holden is slow to retrieve a chair, but when he returns with it, the chair is opened up.
Holden drags Razor to it. SINS OF THE FATHER! The impact is devastating. The poor chair is a partially broken heap. But most importantly, Holden has Razor pinned.
1!
2!
3!
The bell is called for as the comeback falls short. There is no love at all for the new Underground king. Holden is awarded the title and has his arm raised.
Sasha Greene: Here is your winner and NEW Underground Champion, HOLDEN ROSS!
- CLICK -