Post by PCW Staff on Jul 3, 2020 21:22:04 GMT -5
Earlier in the Day
Outside of the Pure Class Arena, the Greenville sun beat down on the pavement of the parking lot as fans started to trickle in for the Summer festivities. As was tradition for Pure Class Wrestling’s Summer BBQ event, anyone there that early had their tents up, canopies out, and coolers full for the greatest tailgate in sports entertainment.
This year, however, was a little different as a special tailgater had made an appearance. With a canopy up as big as eight parking spots, the World Champion himself was grilling up burgers, brats, and dogs for anyone wanting to stop by and say hello. Even his pregnant wife, Lindsay, and their two children, Joey and Remi, were in on the celebration.
To help out with the heat, though, a misting system had been rigged underneath his canopy to help keep things a little cooler. The First Annual Force of Nature Summer BBQ Tailgate was in full swing, and everyone seemed to be having a great time. Fans would break away from their own tailgates for a time to come say hello, and wish Stormm some good luck for his World Title match later in the evening; even if most of them didn’t think he particularly needed it.
Everything and everyone had been respectable enough to not overcrowd, or overstay their welcome either, that was, until another special guest to this year’s tailgate arrived.
Jason Willard: Hey Stormm! Whatcha doing?
The collective groan for anyone around brought a smile to Stormm and his wife’s faces as they both shot their attention over towards Willard. Trying to keep things civil, however, the champ offered him a hot dog, the favorite of little boys and girls alike, but number one contender for Return to Glory ignored the offer.
Jason Willard: Did you know I'm undefeated against Razor Blade? Yep, I am! I beat him when I was Underground Champion and when I was World Champion! Say! You're the World Champion right now! How cool is it that we both faced him as champion?
Continuing to hand out food to the fans and thank them for stopping by, the Force of Nature gave a look towards his wife, and she smiled and nodded before standing up from her chair and gathered up their children for a quick tour of everyone else’s tailgates.
Stormm: You’re…
Jason Willard: I don't want you to worry any. If you lose tonight, we can still have a title match. See?
The shadow of the once fierce competitor held up his toy replica of the World title belt after interrupting the REAL champion.
Jason Willard: Isn't that great? Mommy always knows how to plan for anything! She's so wonderful. I love her. Don't you love yours?
Knowing full well what he was saying, Jason definitely had Stormm’s full attention after that comment.
Stormm: Hey everyone, it’s probably going to be a little bit before I can get any more food down on the grill, but feel free to keep coming and hanging out anyway, I’ll get more meat cooking shortly!
Using tongs to grab and hand out the last few bratwursts and hot dogs from the grill, the Force of Nature used them to also remove the grate from the grill, exposing the hot coals. Looking to his left, and then to his right, the champion appeared to be looking for something, but the bag of coals and container of lighter fluid was in plain sight. Then, as quick as a flash of lightning, he snatched the toy title belt from Willard’s grasp, and tossed it onto the coals.
Stormm: Yeah, that’ll do nicely.
Jason Willard: WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!
The Force of Nature grabbed a spare set of tongs, and used them to push the foam and plastic toy into the coals further, speeding up the melting process.
Jason Willard: Mommy gave that to me! Why would you destroy something that wasn't yours?
Stormm: Just a little preview of how you’re going to feel after Return to Glory, when you fail to win the REAL thing!
Stamping his feet and clenching his fists, Jason continues to throw his tantrum as the Force of Nature tends to the grill. What was one a kid’s replica title belt, had quickly become nothing more than a wad of melted plastic and foam.
The crowd around Stormm’s tailgate continued to grow, but now it wasn’t for food or for a chance to mingle with the champion, it was to witness the drama before that night’s action.
Jason Willard: You've wrecked everything! I hate you, Stormm! I hope you lose your title later, so you know how it feels!
Storming off in a tizzy, Jason’s face had reached medium rare shades of pink after the altercation, and the smile on Stormm’s face couldn’t have been any bigger. He pulled the hunk of melted materials from the coals, and placed them into a cooler that had been emptied of all but ice to cool it off. Placing the lid back onto the grill and setting it aside, the champion loaded up a second grill full of charcoal and soaked the pyramid of bricks in lighter fluid.
Stormm: Coals should be ready to go in about fifteen! Now then, who had the game of washers going?
After lighting the coals and placing the lid back on the new grill, Stormm moved through the crowd and out from under his canopy to find a quick parking lot game to partake in before going back to tending his grill. Just light the evening would be concluded with fireworks, it appeared as if it started off with them as well.
Welcome to the Summer BBQ!
PCW Trauma: Summer BBQ
Friday July 3rd, 2020
Jerry Andrews: Welcome everyone to the Trauma! Welcome to our Summer Barbecue! I'm Jerry Andrews and it's a beautiful day here! We hope that all of you are spending time with your loved ones, enjoying the great weather, and ready to kick off your Fourth of July weekend with us!
Ace Anderson: Jerry, I love this event! The weather, the crowds, the food! It's a great time!
With the crowd amped-up for the evening, the arrival of one Buddy Winchester was hardly the starting point that the fans were awaiting. Cheers of anticipation became mixed with loud boos as he stepped out onto the stage in a suit and tie. According to his face, he didn’t quite share the same excitement or thrill of the moment, but he didn’t seem to mind their jeers.
Then, a collective gasp brought an abrupt hush to the crowd. Not that Buddy killed the heat, in fact, the entire attendance drew closer to the edge of their seats in awe as a gigantic, young man joined him atop the ramp.
A red and white singlet clung to shoulders every bit of sixty inches across was topped with matching amateur wrestling headgear.
While Buddy paid them no mind, the massive wrestler following him slapped hands and bumped fists with the fans along the ramp. A bright white smile and rosy cheeks lit up the building as the two closed in on the ring. Suddenly, High Tide attacks him behind him with a chair!
Jerry Andrews: What the hell!?
Ace Anderson: I mean.... can you really blame him? Hunter Benjamin is huge enough that he could put Tide on one of those grills nearby and eat him in a bun with some ketchup and a side of potato chips before washing the meal down with a cold beer!
Jerry Andrews: That was a creepily specific scene you described there.
High Tide beats down on Benjamin, who falls to the floor. Tide scares Buddy Winchester off with the chair, but that gives Benjamin a chance to get back to his feet. He slugs Tide from behind, sending him running over the barrier and into the crowd. Benjamin follows. Tide runs by a barbecue, grabs some mustard, and squirts it right in Hunter Benjamin's eyes as he approaches!
Ace Anderson: Mustard in the eye!!!
Jerry Andrews: I hope that's not spicy mustard!
Ace Anderson: Of course it's not! He doesn't eat elitist mustard like that! He eats real mustard like a real American!
Jerry Andrews: High Tide is from Toronto, Ace.
Tide now grabs a pool noodle out of an inflatable pool and swings it at Benjamin. Benjamin pushes it aside, then he scoops Tide up and drops him into the pool! Tide manages to scramble away before Benjamin can get his hands on him. He runs away from the scene, with his opponent in hot pursuit!
As Trauma returns, while everyone in attendance is having a good time on this warm summer night, there is no joy, no celebrating, no anything resembling cheer for Jason Willard. Cameras show him in isolation without his toy championship, now reduced to a sacrifice on the grill. The sounds of sniffling can be heard as he finishes up a phone call with his mother, Lucy.
"Yes, Mommy."
"I'll try for you."
"You do!" A sliver of sunshine peeks through grey skies here.
"I love you, too, Mommy.
"After while, crocodile."
Willard sighs and puts his phone away. He's startled by Shane Dodge approaching him. Willard doesn't wait to be asked anything.
"Mommy said don't worry, be happy. I'm going to try just for her and ONLY her, but look at what Stormm did!"
Willard gives a detailed account as to what happened, something Shane is not only privvy to knowing, but neutral to in response.
"I don't want to be his friend any more!" He declares. "Not even if he apologized. He hurt my feelings. He grilled Mommy's gift! It isn't a piece of food, Shane! How would he like it if I took his toy away from him??"
Willard pauses on that thought.
"I have to go now. Maybe broken fences can be mended after all!"
Armed with a chipper attitude, Willard leaves Shane standing there like a fool without being afforded the chance to talk.
Back at ringside, Rick Majors is sitting at the announcer's table alongside Ace and Jerry.
Jerry Andrews: Ladies and gentlemen, welcome back and for this next match we will be joined on commentary by the new Genesis Champion: Rick Majors. How are you doing, Rick?
Rick Majors: Pretty well, Jerry, all things considering. Thanks for having me. I'm looking forward to our next match.
Jerry Andrews: I bet you are. Next we're going to see Grimm take on Holden Ross with the winner earning a shot at the Genesis Title that you hold.
Rick Majors: That's right, Jerry. These are two tough men who I have a long history with, so I thought I'd come out here and watch this one up close.
Ace Anderson: You faced them both in that fourway elimination match at the Iceys to become champion. Do you really think you can beat one of these guys again?
Rick Majors: It'll be tough Ace, that's for sure, but it was tough winning this title to and I did that.
Ace Anderson: Sure, but holding a title is a lot harder than winning it.
Rick Majors: I definitely know that, Ace.
"Yes, Mommy."
"I'll try for you."
"You do!" A sliver of sunshine peeks through grey skies here.
"I love you, too, Mommy.
"After while, crocodile."
Willard sighs and puts his phone away. He's startled by Shane Dodge approaching him. Willard doesn't wait to be asked anything.
"Mommy said don't worry, be happy. I'm going to try just for her and ONLY her, but look at what Stormm did!"
Willard gives a detailed account as to what happened, something Shane is not only privvy to knowing, but neutral to in response.
"I don't want to be his friend any more!" He declares. "Not even if he apologized. He hurt my feelings. He grilled Mommy's gift! It isn't a piece of food, Shane! How would he like it if I took his toy away from him??"
Willard pauses on that thought.
"I have to go now. Maybe broken fences can be mended after all!"
Armed with a chipper attitude, Willard leaves Shane standing there like a fool without being afforded the chance to talk.
Back at ringside, Rick Majors is sitting at the announcer's table alongside Ace and Jerry.
Jerry Andrews: Ladies and gentlemen, welcome back and for this next match we will be joined on commentary by the new Genesis Champion: Rick Majors. How are you doing, Rick?
Rick Majors: Pretty well, Jerry, all things considering. Thanks for having me. I'm looking forward to our next match.
Jerry Andrews: I bet you are. Next we're going to see Grimm take on Holden Ross with the winner earning a shot at the Genesis Title that you hold.
Rick Majors: That's right, Jerry. These are two tough men who I have a long history with, so I thought I'd come out here and watch this one up close.
Ace Anderson: You faced them both in that fourway elimination match at the Iceys to become champion. Do you really think you can beat one of these guys again?
Rick Majors: It'll be tough Ace, that's for sure, but it was tough winning this title to and I did that.
Ace Anderson: Sure, but holding a title is a lot harder than winning it.
Rick Majors: I definitely know that, Ace.
Air raid sirens begin their cries of warning as the arena is plunged into darkness. As they reach their crescendo, and begin their fall, a single spotlight cuts through the dark, illuminating Holden who is standing statuesque, just this side of the threshold of the entrance curtain.
Ace Anderson: There he is! The Human Wrecking Ball!
Jerry Andrews: Those sirens are appropriate…
Rick Majors: They certainly are. Trust me, this guy knows how to hurt people.
Rick Majors: They certainly are. Trust me, this guy knows how to hurt people.
Just like their signal of warning in the real World, in P.C.W. they are a warning that the “Bastard” is making his way to the ring. When the spotlight first shines on him, he has his head down, chin on his chest and his eyes closed. He is wearing his red leather jacket, black tights, and matching black boots and his right fist is heavily wrapped in black tape. The sirens begin winding up their pitch as the second round of screaming from the sirens begin. He lifts his head and his face is void of emotion, his eyes black pools of nothing, similar to a great white's eyes.
Sasha Greene: Making his way to the ring; standing at six feet, five inches tall and weighing in at just over three hundred pounds! He hails from San Luis Obispo and resides here, in Greenville, South Carolina! He is “The Bastard!” Hoooooldennnnnnnn RRRRRRRRRRoosssssssss!
The sirens are relentless as he strolls down to the ring. He takes his time climbing the ring steps and wipes his feet before entering the ring. When the referee attempts to check him for contraband, Holden gently pushes him away and leans into his corner, apparently bored.
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.
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.
PCW Genesis Title Number One Contendership
Singles Match
Singles Match
Grimm vs Holden Ross
Referee: Eric Russo
The two meet up in the center of the ring. Holden Ross immediately starts to talk trash to his opponent, but Grimm barely responds, just staring at his opponent. Grimm now steps forward and Ross kicks him in the gut. He t hen shoves him into a corner and chops him across the chest and again. He grabs Grimm's arm and Irish whips him into the corner and follows with a big clothesline!
Jerry Andrews: Holden Ross with the advantage in the early going!
Ross slugs away on Grimm, then sets him up for a suplex. Grimm blocks it and lifts Ross up… both men go over the ropes and hit the floor with a thud!
Jerry Andrews: Wow!
Ace Anderson: They’re right in front of us here. Watch out Rick, you don't want to get hurt!
Grimm rises to his feet first. He grabs Ross and pulls him from the floor. Ross shoves him backwards into the ringside barrier. Grimm falls to one knee. Ross lifts him but Grimm rams him into the apron. Grimm steps back and runs at Ross who dodges out of the way. Ross now swings at him, but Grimm kicks him in the stomach and DDTs him down to the floor.
Jerry Andrews: Ouch!
Rick Majors: You can never, ever count Grimm out in a match. But Holden Ross is as tough as they come. I think we’re in for a long battle.
Grimm lifts his opponent up and he goes to Irish whip him into the stairs. Holden counters at the last minute and send his Grimm into the steel!
Jerry Andrews: I guess you can take the Underground out of PCW, but you can’t get PCW out of the Underground!
Ace Anderson: Yeah, but this isn’t the Underground and the referee’s count is up to eight.
Ross slides into the ring and breaks the refs count by sliding back out. He pulls Grimm up and slams him face-first into the ring post. He then pulls him up again, but this time Grimm shoves him away. Holden swings, but Grimm dodges it and Ross is spun around by the force of his own punch. Grimm clubs Ross in the back of the head and, as Ross staggers away, Grimm hits him with a big Lariat to the back of the head!
Jerry Andrews: That HAD TO hurt!
Rick Majors: It all hurts, Jerry.
Grimm slides into the ring. He stops to catch his breath as slowly Holden Ross stands up and re-enters as well. Grimm lifts Ross up and slams him. Grimm then drops an elbow right into Ross chest. He then pulls him up… FODDERSHOCK!
The ref counts.
1.........
2.........
Ace Anderson: No!
Jerry Andrews: That was a close one!
Rick Majors: It’s going to take a hell of a lot to keep either of these guys down.
Grimm lifts Ross up and slaps him and runs off the ropes but Ross kicks out Grimm's knee when he comes back. Ross runs off the ropes and grabs Grimm's head and does a roll through that snaps Grimm's head back. He lifts Grimm up and sets him up for a piledriver and nails it. A cover:
1…..
2……
Ace Anderson: Another kickout!
Jerry Andrews: Let me ask you something, Rick. As we watch these guys beat the hell out of one another, do you have a preference for who you’d rather face?
Rick Majors: I’ve faced both many times, and they’ve both beaten the hell out of me. So, no. I don’t have a preference. Whoever it is that wins this match, I’m going to give them everything I have and do whatever it takes to keep this Genesis Championship.
Grimm gets up and charges in but Ross moves and Grimm hits the corner hard. Ross rushes into the corner, splashing Grimm with all his weight. He then pulls him out of the corner, takes a few steps back, sets him up and…. buckle bomb!
Ross with a cover:
1….
2….
Jerry Andrews: Kickout!
Holden Ross pulls Grimm up, but Grimm shoves him backwards and hits a Savate kick to Ross’ chin! Holden is staggered and Grimm takes him down with a lariat. He then pulls him back up and hits a fisherman’s suplex, holding on for the cover:
1….
2….
Ace Anderson: Kickout
Both men rise again. Grimm kicks Ross in the stomach and tries a DDT, but Ross breaks free, scoops Grimm up, and nails a fast Death Valley Driver. He covers Grimm:
1 ......
2 ......
Jerry Andrews: Grimm kicks out of that Death Valley Driver!
Ross lifts Grimm up but Grimm punches Ross in the gut then follows up with a DDT. Grimm covers Ross:
1............
2 .............
Ace Anderson: Now Holden Ross kicks out!
Rick Majors: Like I said, it’s going to take a hell of a lot to keep either of these men down!
Grimm pulls Holden Ross up…. THE HARVEST!!!!
Jerry Andrews: Wow!
Rick Majors: Maybe THAT will do it!
1….
2….
3!!!
Jerry Andrews: Holden Ross with the advantage in the early going!
Ross slugs away on Grimm, then sets him up for a suplex. Grimm blocks it and lifts Ross up… both men go over the ropes and hit the floor with a thud!
Jerry Andrews: Wow!
Ace Anderson: They’re right in front of us here. Watch out Rick, you don't want to get hurt!
Grimm rises to his feet first. He grabs Ross and pulls him from the floor. Ross shoves him backwards into the ringside barrier. Grimm falls to one knee. Ross lifts him but Grimm rams him into the apron. Grimm steps back and runs at Ross who dodges out of the way. Ross now swings at him, but Grimm kicks him in the stomach and DDTs him down to the floor.
Jerry Andrews: Ouch!
Rick Majors: You can never, ever count Grimm out in a match. But Holden Ross is as tough as they come. I think we’re in for a long battle.
Grimm lifts his opponent up and he goes to Irish whip him into the stairs. Holden counters at the last minute and send his Grimm into the steel!
Jerry Andrews: I guess you can take the Underground out of PCW, but you can’t get PCW out of the Underground!
Ace Anderson: Yeah, but this isn’t the Underground and the referee’s count is up to eight.
Ross slides into the ring and breaks the refs count by sliding back out. He pulls Grimm up and slams him face-first into the ring post. He then pulls him up again, but this time Grimm shoves him away. Holden swings, but Grimm dodges it and Ross is spun around by the force of his own punch. Grimm clubs Ross in the back of the head and, as Ross staggers away, Grimm hits him with a big Lariat to the back of the head!
Jerry Andrews: That HAD TO hurt!
Rick Majors: It all hurts, Jerry.
Grimm slides into the ring. He stops to catch his breath as slowly Holden Ross stands up and re-enters as well. Grimm lifts Ross up and slams him. Grimm then drops an elbow right into Ross chest. He then pulls him up… FODDERSHOCK!
The ref counts.
1.........
2.........
Ace Anderson: No!
Jerry Andrews: That was a close one!
Rick Majors: It’s going to take a hell of a lot to keep either of these guys down.
Grimm lifts Ross up and slaps him and runs off the ropes but Ross kicks out Grimm's knee when he comes back. Ross runs off the ropes and grabs Grimm's head and does a roll through that snaps Grimm's head back. He lifts Grimm up and sets him up for a piledriver and nails it. A cover:
1…..
2……
Ace Anderson: Another kickout!
Jerry Andrews: Let me ask you something, Rick. As we watch these guys beat the hell out of one another, do you have a preference for who you’d rather face?
Rick Majors: I’ve faced both many times, and they’ve both beaten the hell out of me. So, no. I don’t have a preference. Whoever it is that wins this match, I’m going to give them everything I have and do whatever it takes to keep this Genesis Championship.
Grimm gets up and charges in but Ross moves and Grimm hits the corner hard. Ross rushes into the corner, splashing Grimm with all his weight. He then pulls him out of the corner, takes a few steps back, sets him up and…. buckle bomb!
Ross with a cover:
1….
2….
Jerry Andrews: Kickout!
Holden Ross pulls Grimm up, but Grimm shoves him backwards and hits a Savate kick to Ross’ chin! Holden is staggered and Grimm takes him down with a lariat. He then pulls him back up and hits a fisherman’s suplex, holding on for the cover:
1….
2….
Ace Anderson: Kickout
Both men rise again. Grimm kicks Ross in the stomach and tries a DDT, but Ross breaks free, scoops Grimm up, and nails a fast Death Valley Driver. He covers Grimm:
1 ......
2 ......
Jerry Andrews: Grimm kicks out of that Death Valley Driver!
Ross lifts Grimm up but Grimm punches Ross in the gut then follows up with a DDT. Grimm covers Ross:
1............
2 .............
Ace Anderson: Now Holden Ross kicks out!
Rick Majors: Like I said, it’s going to take a hell of a lot to keep either of these men down!
Grimm pulls Holden Ross up…. THE HARVEST!!!!
Jerry Andrews: Wow!
Rick Majors: Maybe THAT will do it!
1….
2….
3!!!
"Here is your winner, and number one contender for the Genesis Championship: GRIMM!"
Jerry Andrews: Well, there you have it, Rick. There's the man you'll be facing at Return to Glory!
Inside the ring, Grimm raises his arm in victory. At ringside, Rick Majors stands up, takes off his headset and places the title over his shoulder. Grimm stares at him. Majors looks down at the belt briefly, then back up at his future opponent as Trauma heads to commercial.
Inside the ring, Grimm raises his arm in victory. At ringside, Rick Majors stands up, takes off his headset and places the title over his shoulder. Grimm stares at him. Majors looks down at the belt briefly, then back up at his future opponent as Trauma heads to commercial.
Trauma returns with a raucous crowd enjoying themselves in the summer sun. Finally, their hooting and hollaring dies down the cameras return their attention to the darkened ring where a single figure stands, illuminated by a single spotlight. Cheers erupt once again from the long time PCW faithful as Loki, clad in a smart grey suit, stands in the middle of the ring. The Pure Class Original turns slowly, taking in the cheers from the arena before lifting the microphone.
“The last time I stood here was back in May. In attempting to defuse a situation I raised hands against and struck one of PCW’s employees. “You lay hands on me and the board will fire your ass!” That was the last thing Alexa Black said to me before I struck her.”
Loki let’s the mic drop as the PCW trons flashes back to the May 19th Edition of Trauma. The screen shows Loki unloading a flurry of blows on a clearly stunned Alexa Black before PCW security separates them, pulling Loki from the ring.
The scene from nearly two months ago ends as the cameras return their focus to the ring, “She was right you know. After our little scuffle the PCW board did in fact call for my removal.”
A hushed murmur runs through the crowd as Loki continues, “I didn’t try to fight it, why would I? So I let the Board run their little investigation, I let them play detective as I answered all their questions and inquiries. I let them come to the decision that I’d already made before I chose to strike Alexa Black. And tonight I’ve come here to share that decision with all of you. As of Midnight tonight, I am being removed as the Pure Class Wrestling President.”
The soon to be ex-PCW President lets the statement hang heavy in the air.
“So it got me thinking about some things? See, I’ve never been cut out to be a suit. Sitting behind a desk, signing contracts and purchase orders, it’s mind numbing. Is that what I want my legacy to be? Am I happy with how I left things, buried alive in a literal grave with a broken collar bone? Frankly, no. Which is why before I step down, my last act as the President of Pure Class Wrestling was to make one last match for Return to Glory. It’s going to be Alexa Black defending her North American Championship against a returning Loki!”
The crowd erupts at the announcement and Loki basks in the cheers. The basking is interrupted as Kyle Shane makes his way out to the top of the ramp, clapping sarcastically against the mic in his hands.
“So let me get this straight. You have ONE INTERACTION with Alexa Black two months ago where you oh so rudely interrupted my challenge for her North American title. In said interaction, again, two months ago, in the midst of trying to separate us, you decided to play cowboy and hit Alexa Black . And since then, nothing! Absolute radio silence on your end.”
Loki eyes the much younger man and smirks.
Kyle Shane waves him off, “Yeah yeah shut up, I don’t want to hear it. So since you laid out Alexa, again, two months ago, now you’re saying that you’ve been relieved of your duties and it was all part of some stupid master plan? You wanted to get your hands on Alexa Black, you wanted to be relevant again, so now you’re going to abuse what little authority you’ve got left and just give yourself a North American Title match at Return to Glory?”
Loki raises the mic, “It’s not fair is it? When has life ever been fair, kid? You can be upset about it all you want, but the match has already been made.”
Kyle paces the ramp like a caged animal, back and forth back and forth, before staring a hole through Loki, incredulous at the arrogance. He chews it over before he starts making his way down the ramp.
“I’ll tell you exactly what this is, it’s bullshit! It’s the same old patented, unchained, never-ending rigamarole from Pure Class Wrestling’s vaunted “Old Guard”, ladies and gentlemen. It’s the inability of some piece of shit that thought they were great fifteen years ago to let go; stepping up and taking a spot from an ACTIVE WRESTLER ON HIS ROSTER, and refusing to accept the fact that nobody actually wants to listen to boring forty-year-olds where they talk about the good old days and reminisce about some boring conversation they had with Luis Malave years ago.”
Shane reaches the bottom of the ramp and stands in front of the ring. The two men never take their eyes off each other as Kyle Shane circles the ring.
“And then you have men like me and Gerard Angelo working,” Shane breaks off, “God, you know, I defended you! Every single time that Gerard said that the matches I was winning and the spot I was given were due to your favoritism, I came to your defense, Loki!”
“And don’t think I don’t appreciate it, Shane,” Loki cut him off, “but if you’ve got a point beyond whinging about how unfair everything is I’d love to hear it before I actually turn forty.”
“My point,” Shane rolls into the ring and stands face to face with Loki, “is that in all that time after you had your little tiff with Alexa Black I’ve been the one front, right, and center calling for a title shot. I’ve been the one challenging her, I’ve been the one doing the leg work of getting people even remotely interested in the North American Title again. Which given the pathetic who’s who list of recent champions hasn’t been easy. And now you want to take all the hard work that I’ve done and drop it right in the gutter by butting your old ass in line and taking MY match. And why? Cause you threw one little punch? That gives you carte blanche to do what you want? You haven’t earned this, so my point, “Boss Man” is you don’t get to claim the spot you're in until you’ve stepped into the ring with the best and won.”
Loki smirks and scratches at his nose, “Until I’ve stepped into the ring with the best and won, huh? So then why are you here? Son, I’ve gone toe to toe with the best this company has to offer. I’ve stood across from demons and monsters and gone the distance, what have you done? What have I done to earn the shot I stole from you? I set the foundations of this god damn company, foundations that you’re attempting to erode. Everything you’ve done, everything you’ve achieved you owe to me and to the others that set the stage for you. But I’ll tell you a secret, Kyle. My match with Alexa isn’t the only match I made. I made two special matches just for you. At the next Trauma you’ve got your match with Alexa Black, just the two of you. And win or lose, you’ll be competing for the North American Championship at Deadly Intentions.”
Kyle Shane claps his hands in mock glee, “Oh you mean I get the match that I’ve already been challenging for? The one I promoted by jumping off the fucking stage. Wow, wow wow WOW, oh my good golly gosh, thank you so much for graciously giving me a shot.”
Shane’s mocking is cut short as Alexa Black’s music hits. The defending North American Champion takes the stage with the belt clutched in her fist, “You know it’s cute watching you two argue over who I get to destroy first. It doesn’t matter to me if you wanna take turns or if you both want to try your luck at the same time. I’ll make whoever steps in the ring with me at Return to Glory sorry they were ever born.”
“The last time I stood here was back in May. In attempting to defuse a situation I raised hands against and struck one of PCW’s employees. “You lay hands on me and the board will fire your ass!” That was the last thing Alexa Black said to me before I struck her.”
Loki let’s the mic drop as the PCW trons flashes back to the May 19th Edition of Trauma. The screen shows Loki unloading a flurry of blows on a clearly stunned Alexa Black before PCW security separates them, pulling Loki from the ring.
The scene from nearly two months ago ends as the cameras return their focus to the ring, “She was right you know. After our little scuffle the PCW board did in fact call for my removal.”
A hushed murmur runs through the crowd as Loki continues, “I didn’t try to fight it, why would I? So I let the Board run their little investigation, I let them play detective as I answered all their questions and inquiries. I let them come to the decision that I’d already made before I chose to strike Alexa Black. And tonight I’ve come here to share that decision with all of you. As of Midnight tonight, I am being removed as the Pure Class Wrestling President.”
The soon to be ex-PCW President lets the statement hang heavy in the air.
“So it got me thinking about some things? See, I’ve never been cut out to be a suit. Sitting behind a desk, signing contracts and purchase orders, it’s mind numbing. Is that what I want my legacy to be? Am I happy with how I left things, buried alive in a literal grave with a broken collar bone? Frankly, no. Which is why before I step down, my last act as the President of Pure Class Wrestling was to make one last match for Return to Glory. It’s going to be Alexa Black defending her North American Championship against a returning Loki!”
The crowd erupts at the announcement and Loki basks in the cheers. The basking is interrupted as Kyle Shane makes his way out to the top of the ramp, clapping sarcastically against the mic in his hands.
“So let me get this straight. You have ONE INTERACTION with Alexa Black two months ago where you oh so rudely interrupted my challenge for her North American title. In said interaction, again, two months ago, in the midst of trying to separate us, you decided to play cowboy and hit Alexa Black . And since then, nothing! Absolute radio silence on your end.”
Loki eyes the much younger man and smirks.
Kyle Shane waves him off, “Yeah yeah shut up, I don’t want to hear it. So since you laid out Alexa, again, two months ago, now you’re saying that you’ve been relieved of your duties and it was all part of some stupid master plan? You wanted to get your hands on Alexa Black, you wanted to be relevant again, so now you’re going to abuse what little authority you’ve got left and just give yourself a North American Title match at Return to Glory?”
Loki raises the mic, “It’s not fair is it? When has life ever been fair, kid? You can be upset about it all you want, but the match has already been made.”
Kyle paces the ramp like a caged animal, back and forth back and forth, before staring a hole through Loki, incredulous at the arrogance. He chews it over before he starts making his way down the ramp.
“I’ll tell you exactly what this is, it’s bullshit! It’s the same old patented, unchained, never-ending rigamarole from Pure Class Wrestling’s vaunted “Old Guard”, ladies and gentlemen. It’s the inability of some piece of shit that thought they were great fifteen years ago to let go; stepping up and taking a spot from an ACTIVE WRESTLER ON HIS ROSTER, and refusing to accept the fact that nobody actually wants to listen to boring forty-year-olds where they talk about the good old days and reminisce about some boring conversation they had with Luis Malave years ago.”
Shane reaches the bottom of the ramp and stands in front of the ring. The two men never take their eyes off each other as Kyle Shane circles the ring.
“And then you have men like me and Gerard Angelo working,” Shane breaks off, “God, you know, I defended you! Every single time that Gerard said that the matches I was winning and the spot I was given were due to your favoritism, I came to your defense, Loki!”
“And don’t think I don’t appreciate it, Shane,” Loki cut him off, “but if you’ve got a point beyond whinging about how unfair everything is I’d love to hear it before I actually turn forty.”
“My point,” Shane rolls into the ring and stands face to face with Loki, “is that in all that time after you had your little tiff with Alexa Black I’ve been the one front, right, and center calling for a title shot. I’ve been the one challenging her, I’ve been the one doing the leg work of getting people even remotely interested in the North American Title again. Which given the pathetic who’s who list of recent champions hasn’t been easy. And now you want to take all the hard work that I’ve done and drop it right in the gutter by butting your old ass in line and taking MY match. And why? Cause you threw one little punch? That gives you carte blanche to do what you want? You haven’t earned this, so my point, “Boss Man” is you don’t get to claim the spot you're in until you’ve stepped into the ring with the best and won.”
Loki smirks and scratches at his nose, “Until I’ve stepped into the ring with the best and won, huh? So then why are you here? Son, I’ve gone toe to toe with the best this company has to offer. I’ve stood across from demons and monsters and gone the distance, what have you done? What have I done to earn the shot I stole from you? I set the foundations of this god damn company, foundations that you’re attempting to erode. Everything you’ve done, everything you’ve achieved you owe to me and to the others that set the stage for you. But I’ll tell you a secret, Kyle. My match with Alexa isn’t the only match I made. I made two special matches just for you. At the next Trauma you’ve got your match with Alexa Black, just the two of you. And win or lose, you’ll be competing for the North American Championship at Deadly Intentions.”
Kyle Shane claps his hands in mock glee, “Oh you mean I get the match that I’ve already been challenging for? The one I promoted by jumping off the fucking stage. Wow, wow wow WOW, oh my good golly gosh, thank you so much for graciously giving me a shot.”
Shane’s mocking is cut short as Alexa Black’s music hits. The defending North American Champion takes the stage with the belt clutched in her fist, “You know it’s cute watching you two argue over who I get to destroy first. It doesn’t matter to me if you wanna take turns or if you both want to try your luck at the same time. I’ll make whoever steps in the ring with me at Return to Glory sorry they were ever born.”
The lights flicker and fade and the whole arena turns black. Static appears on the titantron as a greenish looking Matrix looking screen appears, lines and pieces of code falling from top to bottom. As the code gets faster, words appear on the screen.
The words fade away as jumbled up letters appear on the screen, forming a word code.
The letters stay on the screen for a few seconds and the words "Returning Soon" appears underneath it as the words code fades into the background and disappears into the code in the background, static appearing on the screen and fading to black, the lights turning back on in the arena.
"The Truth Reigns" hits. He comes through a pair of bleachers, high fiving his Fans on his walk.
Razor 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 his Opponent to arrive.
Without warning, the lights in the arena go out in a flash, and the sounds of rhythmic drums begin to beat like an oncoming war. Very subtle orange lights illuminate the ramp way as the strings begin to accompany the percussion, and the tron flickers back on with black and white aerial shots of the Kansas City metro area. The faithful are left in total darkness, and their cell phone screens and flashlights begin to sporadically light up the crowd, like stars in the night, as a dense fog has risen, covering the ramp. Despite how little time has passed, the beat has brought the crowd to their feat.
Then, as the crescendo reaches its peak, a spotlight hits the entrance to accompany the climax of "Land of Shadows" by Audiomachine, and Stormm instantly comes into view.
The Force of Nature looks out into the crowd from underneath a black hood attached to an ankle length, black leather trench coat. The coat is covered in straps and buckles all left dangling about as the open coat sways with his movements. The crowd's reaction rivals that of the music volume, and Stormm acknowledges, looking left and then right, with a nod. His stare turns back to the ring, and he makes his way down the ramp with a black, wooden bat in his left hand, and the World title belt hanging from his right.
Having made it to ringside, Stormm patrols around to the opposite side of the ring in typical fashion before nodding towards Ace and Jerry, and tapping the announce desk with his bat. In one fluid motion, he hops up onto the apron, leans back onto the ropes, and points the bat out into the crowd, which draws in another pop from those in attendance. Climbing through the middle and top rope, he immediately scales to the second turnbuckle of the nearest corner, and raises the World title above his head, and out towards the crowd, as the arena lights slowly come back on as the spotlight fades out.
Stormm hops down, and throws the hood of his coat off of his head as he walks with purpose to the opposite corner, holding his title high for everyone to see once more, as the overwhelming adulation continued. No smile. No mouthing off. All business. The battle music fades out well before the reaction of the crowd does, but the Force of Nature waits patiently, perched from the top turnbuckle, waiting for the match to begin.
"Can You Break the Code?"
The words fade away as jumbled up letters appear on the screen, forming a word code.
V A T Q P G E T C B A D Q B U O K V J
The letters stay on the screen for a few seconds and the words "Returning Soon" appears underneath it as the words code fades into the background and disappears into the code in the background, static appearing on the screen and fading to black, the lights turning back on in the arena.
Sasha Greene: The following contest is scheduled for one fall and is for the PCW World Title! Introducing first.
"The Truth Reigns" hits. He comes through a pair of bleachers, high fiving his Fans on his walk.
Sasha Greene: From Orlando, Florida. Weighing 265 lbs, RAZOR BLADE!
Razor 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 his Opponent to arrive.
Sasha Greene: And his opponent!
Without warning, the lights in the arena go out in a flash, and the sounds of rhythmic drums begin to beat like an oncoming war. Very subtle orange lights illuminate the ramp way as the strings begin to accompany the percussion, and the tron flickers back on with black and white aerial shots of the Kansas City metro area. The faithful are left in total darkness, and their cell phone screens and flashlights begin to sporadically light up the crowd, like stars in the night, as a dense fog has risen, covering the ramp. Despite how little time has passed, the beat has brought the crowd to their feat.
Then, as the crescendo reaches its peak, a spotlight hits the entrance to accompany the climax of "Land of Shadows" by Audiomachine, and Stormm instantly comes into view.
Sasha Greene - Making his way to the ring, from Kansas City, Kansas, weighing in at two hundred and fifty-two pounds...
The Force of Nature looks out into the crowd from underneath a black hood attached to an ankle length, black leather trench coat. The coat is covered in straps and buckles all left dangling about as the open coat sways with his movements. The crowd's reaction rivals that of the music volume, and Stormm acknowledges, looking left and then right, with a nod. His stare turns back to the ring, and he makes his way down the ramp with a black, wooden bat in his left hand, and the World title belt hanging from his right.
Sasha Greene - He is the PCW World Champion... The Force of Nature... STORMM!
Having made it to ringside, Stormm patrols around to the opposite side of the ring in typical fashion before nodding towards Ace and Jerry, and tapping the announce desk with his bat. In one fluid motion, he hops up onto the apron, leans back onto the ropes, and points the bat out into the crowd, which draws in another pop from those in attendance. Climbing through the middle and top rope, he immediately scales to the second turnbuckle of the nearest corner, and raises the World title above his head, and out towards the crowd, as the arena lights slowly come back on as the spotlight fades out.
Stormm hops down, and throws the hood of his coat off of his head as he walks with purpose to the opposite corner, holding his title high for everyone to see once more, as the overwhelming adulation continued. No smile. No mouthing off. All business. The battle music fades out well before the reaction of the crowd does, but the Force of Nature waits patiently, perched from the top turnbuckle, waiting for the match to begin.
PCW World Championship
Singles Match
Singles Match
Stormm (PCW World ©) vs Razor Blade
Referee: Ed lane
But the referee is distracted, preventing him from ringing the bell.
Jerry Andrews: Is this some kind of a joke?
Ace Anderson: It's Texas Tim! He's going to try collecting on the bounty!
Sure enough, Texas Tim is heading to the ring with a Gerard Angelo shirt on, proving Ace's theory to be right. Stormm is ready to cut him off at the pass. He wastes little time meeting him in the aisle. Ducking a clothesline, Stormm is able to block a pair of punches before dishing out a boot to Tim's midsection.
Capitalizing on the opportunity, Stormm looks to land his Force of Nature finisher, but is flush with anger from Texas Tim's audacity to block it from happening! That only makes Stormm spin him around for Eye of the Stormm. Before you can say "You failed, Gerard", Texas Tim is promptly put to sleep.
Jerry Andrews: Well with that distraction out of the way, maybe now we can get this match started!
Stormm slaps a few outstretched hands from the jam packed cheering faithful as he returns to the ring. Stormm is ready, Razor has been ready and finally the bell is called for.
DING!
DING!
DING!
The two circle one another. If Razor has any nerves, they are hidden under his intensity. Stormm is all business, having been in this position on both sides more than once across his long spanning career. They lock up with a collar-and-elbow. Neither grabs an advantage until Razor starts to back Stormm up a couple of steps.
Stormm uses that against Razor, however, taking him over with a quick armdrag. Razor gets to his feet and lunges at Stormm in an effort to quickly overpower him. This time Stormm swings behind with a waistlock and then a spin on Razor to shoot him against the ropes. A heavy shoulder tackle knocks Stormm down, but Razor is drop toe holed the moment he tries to run.
Stormm throws a strike at Razor's head the moment he looks his way. Another. Stormm works Razor to a vertical base with continuous strikes. Razor fires back with a sudden uppercut. Stormm shakes it off to clothesline Razor with authority. Razor is picked up and swung into a corner. The Big Dog rages out with momentum to take Stormm down with an even harder clothesline.
Jerry Andrews: Razor showed off some of his strength with that piece of offense.
Ace Anderson: He may have the power, but Stormm has the technical ability.
Razor hoists Stormm in a fireman's carry. Stormm floats over, then hits a picture perfect German suplex! That enders him to the faithful as they gravitate towards cheering and chanting his name. Stormm locks a front face lock on Razor, squeezing down on the neck as he does. Razor tries to lift Stormm, but he drops his lower center of gravity to block it.
A jawbreaker, however, is an entirely different matter. Staggered, Stormm backs himself near the ropes. Razor suddenly spears him to the floor and takes advantage with several shots to the head for good measure. Stormm is sent to the ring post before finding himself being swung under the bottom rope. Razor gives himself some clearance for his running drive-by drop kick. Stormm moves! A quick forearm to the mouth blasts Razor against the edge of the ring.
Stormm pulls him inside and gets pulled into a small package!
1!
He easily kicks out of that. Both men get up at relatively the same time, colliding with a double clothesline! Instead of going down, they just bounce off one another. Stormm is shoved against the ropes as Razor spins the other way, returning with a Superman Punch! Stormm falls into the ropes, but retaliates with Flash Flood!
Jerry Andrews: Stormm delivers a signature move and that may have taken the fight out of the challenger.
Stormm brings Razor to his feet and plays to the crowd. He starts to get Razor locked up in a fisherman suplex, but Razor isn't ready to allow it. He breaks free and is able to toss Stormm in the corner and deliver a running clothesline for good measure. Stormm staggers into another fireman's carry, but again slips behind. Hangcloud DDT! Stormm fires himself up and once more, plays up to the crowd.
Jerry Andrews: Stormm locks Razor in again. There's the lift...FORCE OF NATURE!
Ace Anderson: And he got all of that two-hundred and seventy degrees.
Stormm turns to hook the leg.
1!
2!
3!
The referee calls for the bell.
"Land of Shadows" might be playing, but JASON WILLARD has suddenly entered the ring...and he's got possession of Stormm's title! The childlike exuberance is on full display as he requests having his arm raised like HE is the one who just won the match!
Jerry Andrews: Willard did talk about this earlier. I guess he got permission from his mommy after all.
Ace Anderson: I think it's only fair considering how Stormm treated him earlier. Besides, it'll be the same scene at Return to Glory!
Willard poses on each side of the ring with the title raised high over his head. Stormm is not about to play this game with him. Just as he goes to stop it, Willard spins around to try and clock him with the title. Stormm ducks! A quick boot to the gut and Willard finds his night ending with a Force of Nature ON the title! Stormm picks it up and goes to the nearest corner to hold the belt high in celebration of his successful defense.
Jerry Andrews: Is this some kind of a joke?
Ace Anderson: It's Texas Tim! He's going to try collecting on the bounty!
Sure enough, Texas Tim is heading to the ring with a Gerard Angelo shirt on, proving Ace's theory to be right. Stormm is ready to cut him off at the pass. He wastes little time meeting him in the aisle. Ducking a clothesline, Stormm is able to block a pair of punches before dishing out a boot to Tim's midsection.
Capitalizing on the opportunity, Stormm looks to land his Force of Nature finisher, but is flush with anger from Texas Tim's audacity to block it from happening! That only makes Stormm spin him around for Eye of the Stormm. Before you can say "You failed, Gerard", Texas Tim is promptly put to sleep.
Jerry Andrews: Well with that distraction out of the way, maybe now we can get this match started!
Stormm slaps a few outstretched hands from the jam packed cheering faithful as he returns to the ring. Stormm is ready, Razor has been ready and finally the bell is called for.
DING!
DING!
DING!
The two circle one another. If Razor has any nerves, they are hidden under his intensity. Stormm is all business, having been in this position on both sides more than once across his long spanning career. They lock up with a collar-and-elbow. Neither grabs an advantage until Razor starts to back Stormm up a couple of steps.
Stormm uses that against Razor, however, taking him over with a quick armdrag. Razor gets to his feet and lunges at Stormm in an effort to quickly overpower him. This time Stormm swings behind with a waistlock and then a spin on Razor to shoot him against the ropes. A heavy shoulder tackle knocks Stormm down, but Razor is drop toe holed the moment he tries to run.
Stormm throws a strike at Razor's head the moment he looks his way. Another. Stormm works Razor to a vertical base with continuous strikes. Razor fires back with a sudden uppercut. Stormm shakes it off to clothesline Razor with authority. Razor is picked up and swung into a corner. The Big Dog rages out with momentum to take Stormm down with an even harder clothesline.
Jerry Andrews: Razor showed off some of his strength with that piece of offense.
Ace Anderson: He may have the power, but Stormm has the technical ability.
Razor hoists Stormm in a fireman's carry. Stormm floats over, then hits a picture perfect German suplex! That enders him to the faithful as they gravitate towards cheering and chanting his name. Stormm locks a front face lock on Razor, squeezing down on the neck as he does. Razor tries to lift Stormm, but he drops his lower center of gravity to block it.
A jawbreaker, however, is an entirely different matter. Staggered, Stormm backs himself near the ropes. Razor suddenly spears him to the floor and takes advantage with several shots to the head for good measure. Stormm is sent to the ring post before finding himself being swung under the bottom rope. Razor gives himself some clearance for his running drive-by drop kick. Stormm moves! A quick forearm to the mouth blasts Razor against the edge of the ring.
Stormm pulls him inside and gets pulled into a small package!
1!
He easily kicks out of that. Both men get up at relatively the same time, colliding with a double clothesline! Instead of going down, they just bounce off one another. Stormm is shoved against the ropes as Razor spins the other way, returning with a Superman Punch! Stormm falls into the ropes, but retaliates with Flash Flood!
Jerry Andrews: Stormm delivers a signature move and that may have taken the fight out of the challenger.
Stormm brings Razor to his feet and plays to the crowd. He starts to get Razor locked up in a fisherman suplex, but Razor isn't ready to allow it. He breaks free and is able to toss Stormm in the corner and deliver a running clothesline for good measure. Stormm staggers into another fireman's carry, but again slips behind. Hangcloud DDT! Stormm fires himself up and once more, plays up to the crowd.
Jerry Andrews: Stormm locks Razor in again. There's the lift...FORCE OF NATURE!
Ace Anderson: And he got all of that two-hundred and seventy degrees.
Stormm turns to hook the leg.
1!
2!
3!
The referee calls for the bell.
Sasha Greene: Here is your winner and STILL PCW World Champion, Stormm!
"Land of Shadows" might be playing, but JASON WILLARD has suddenly entered the ring...and he's got possession of Stormm's title! The childlike exuberance is on full display as he requests having his arm raised like HE is the one who just won the match!
Jerry Andrews: Willard did talk about this earlier. I guess he got permission from his mommy after all.
Ace Anderson: I think it's only fair considering how Stormm treated him earlier. Besides, it'll be the same scene at Return to Glory!
Willard poses on each side of the ring with the title raised high over his head. Stormm is not about to play this game with him. Just as he goes to stop it, Willard spins around to try and clock him with the title. Stormm ducks! A quick boot to the gut and Willard finds his night ending with a Force of Nature ON the title! Stormm picks it up and goes to the nearest corner to hold the belt high in celebration of his successful defense.
Jerry Andrews: Ladies and gentlemen, thanks for watching! And now.... fireworks! Have a great Fourth of July!
Even Stormm turns to look up at the night sky as the fireworks display begins.
PCW Trauma © Pure Class Wrestling 2020
Even Stormm turns to look up at the night sky as the fireworks display begins.
PCW Trauma © Pure Class Wrestling 2020