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Post by Murdoc on May 30, 2013 0:24:58 GMT -5
“The System” by The Black Pacific begins to play throughout the Pure Class Arena and from out of the back and onto the entrance stage steps members from the stable Marshall’s Law: Skylar Marshall, Whitey Ford, and Justin Kaard. Both active wrestlers are wearing their customized leatherman jackets and ring gear underneath, while Skylar is wearing his ever-present business suit and square-framed spectacles. Jerry Andrews: The boss and his cohorts are here and none of them look happy.And unhappy they are, as in just moments, the International Champion and the #1 Contender to the World Title, Whitey Ford and Justin Kaard respectively, will be battling one-on-one, and after what happened at Trauma 133, it can be fairly said there are some issues amongst PCW’s “law bringers.” Once down at ringside, Kaard jumps up onto the apron and then hops over the top rope, while Ford throws his International Championship under the bottom rope and then rolls under it himself and Mr. Marshall climbs the ring steps and then steps between the second and third ropes. Mark Long: Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome…MARSHALL’S LA ... -Whitey Ford rips the microphone from Mark’s hand, interrupting the famed ring announcer, and then tosses it to Skylar. Skylar fumbles the catch a little bit, but manages to wrangle it in and then motions for their theme music to stop. Once it does, Skylar begins speaking.
Skylar Marshall: I did not come out here with the gentlemen standing in the ring with me to pander and play up to the crowd. By now, everyone knows who we are. We are the most dominant group in Pure Class Wrestling history. And you should all know that by now.The PCW Faithful in attendance let Skylar know just how much they care for him and his stable by booing him. Skylar Marshall: What I DID come out here for is to explain some very simple things to some of the people in the building that may be wondering what exactly is going on with Marshall’s Law. Why exactly did I schedule Whitey Ford and Justin Kaard to compete against each other tonight and “is Marshall’s Law imploding?” Well, for all the imbeciles who couldn’t figure it out on their own, allow me to explain.
…But before I do, I want to first make this proclamation official: at Living a Legacy V, The Flying Freebooters WILL be receiving their shot at the PCW Tag Team Championships, and I am sure, once and for all, we will have snuffed out the gnats that are The New Breed.
More booing from The Faithful. Jerry Andrews: I guess it’s official, Al. The New Breed will be defending the Tag Team Titles against the former champions The Flying Freebooters.Al Laiman: And I don’t even want to think what would happen to the Freebooters if they are unsuccessful regaining the titles.Jerry Andrews: I don’t want to think what would happen to The New Breed if they were able to retain the titles.Skylar Marshall: Now that I’ve tied up that little tidbit, allow me to explain some things about Mr. Kaard. Now Justin…see, Justin has his own way of doing things. And that’s fine. He’s a smart, talented young man and is definitely the future of our sport. But, he’s been misunderstanding our agenda as unit. I’ve spoken to him about this already personally, but when you go against the system…when you go up against the law…you are bound by rules and punishment. And his punishment? His punishment is to go up against the greatest International Champion that Pure Class Wrestling has ever seen- and yes, that does mean he is a greater International Champion than the beloved Grimm and Heavy Metal.Just at the mere mention of the two iconic PCW grapplers send the crowd into a frenzy of boos. Even Justin Kaard can be seen rolling his eyes at the statement. Al Laiman: The Faithful in the arena definitely disagree with the boss’s statements there.Skylar Marshall: Mr. Kaard, you have been found guilty of leaving your compatriots high and dry multiple times. I know you were trying to paint a picture to Showtime that you are not his lackey, but you also left Whitey Ford and the Freebooters out there when you should have came to their side.
And as much as I’d like for you and Showtime to rest up before your big match at Living a Legacy, Showtime has requested to go up against the usurper Rick Majors to teach him a lesson, and Whitey Ford has requested the honor of…how did you say it, Mr. Ford?...Ford can be seen mouthing the words to Skylar, but it is inaudible for the cameras catching the action. Skylar Marshall: …that’s right, “bashing Kaard’s head in.” I thought letting you two work out your differences was a wonderful idea. So there we have it, Whitey Ford vs. Justin Kaard. Makes perfect sense. Consider this a test, for you both…Ford, if you can defeat the #1 Contender to the World Title, I can sense a World Championship opportunity arising sooner than later…and Kaard, if you can defeat the current International Champion, it’ll be a great momentum-builder heading into Living a Legacy.
Oh, one last thing…now is the time to pander…ladies and gentlemen, please welcome at this time your guest commentator for this match…PCW World Champion…“Mr. Showtime”…MICHAEL WRYGHT!
“ Gold on the Ceiling” by The Black Keys begins to play and Mr. Showtime emerges from backstage wearing a business suit of his own, designer shades, and the PCW World Championship strapped around his waist. Al Laiman: Would I get into too much trouble stating that Showtime looks like a tool?Jerry Andrews: Probably.
Al Laiman: Then I’ll just keep it to myself.As Showtime is walking down the entrance ramp, Skylar drops the microphone and greets the World Champion with a handshake before making his own way to the back. Inside the ring, Ford and Kaard are getting themselves ready, though Kaard’s eyes never leave Showtime. When Showtime makes it close to the end of the ramp, the feed fades into a commercial.
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Post by Murdoc on May 30, 2013 0:25:59 GMT -5
MATCH ONE
Non-Title Singles Match
"THE Asshole" Whitey Ford (INT ©) vs. "The Adrenaline King" Justin Kaard
Referee: Steve Shaw
Referee Steve Shaw signals for the bell and the match begins. Kaard looks very focused and serious as he steps forward but Ford is already starting his variety of mind games. He says something across the ring but the microphones around the outside aren’t close enough to pick it up. Kaard seems to react with anger and his youthful exuberance forces him forward. Both men tangle together, looking for some kind of lock up but eventually pulling back. They engage again, tentatively reaching out and trying to lock hands before Whitey lunges to the mat and makes a sweep for Kaard’s legs. Kaard’s speed allows him to jump and evade the sweep and, as Whitey regains his feet, he attacks with a high Roundhouse Kick of his own. This time it’s Ford who evades the attack by ducking. While Kaard is off balance, though, Whitey takes the chance to pick the ankle of his opponent and takes him down. With Justin on the mat, Whitey hits the ropes and immediately goes for a running leg drop on the rebound, but Kaard again moves out of the way. The roles are reversed and Kaard stands over Ford then performs a spectacular Standing Moonsault. Somehow, in the middle of the rotation, Justin manages to spot a rolling Ford and improvises to land on his feet… only to receive a Jumping Heel Kick to the back of the head. Collapsing to the mat, Kaard is set upon immediately by Whitey with a barrage of blows connecting all over his head and torso. Before climbing to his feet, Ford even unleashes a series of patronising slaps to the back of Kaard’s head, as if trying to make a point to the younger competitor. Finally, Whitey pulls Kaard back to his feet and whips him into the ropes. On the rebound Kaard gets caught with a snap Armdrag but manages to get straight back to his feet… only to walk straight into a second. This time Ford locks the arm for a submission hold, but the referee makes a four count when Whitey uses his free hand to yank painfully on Kaard’s hair. Ford releases the hair to break the count but Kaard is spurred on by the pain and pushes himself up. Pushing both himself and Ford into the ropes, Kaard slings his opponent across the ring and ducks his head. As he does, Ford jumps over the top in a Sunset Flip and rolls Kaard into a pinning predicament, only for the ‘Adrenaline King’ to roll through back to his feet. Before Ford can react, Kaard smashes him in the face with a sharp kick and immediately follows it with a phenomenal Standing Phoenix Splash! One… Two… NO! Whitey kicks out and is lifted up by the head straight away. Wasting no time, Kaard goes on the offensive with a series of swift forearm shots and throws his opponent across the ring again. This time Ford drops to the mat after taking a sudden Dropkick to the knee and Kaard rolls straight into an Oklahoma Roll pin. One… Two… NO! Again Ford kicks out and tries to get back to his feet only to be cut off by a determined Kaard. The youngster again attempts to whip Ford into the ropes but this time he is reversed and pulled close into a headlock. With Steve Shaw’s view temporarily blocked, Ford takes his opportunity and rakes the eyes of Kaard, sending him reeling across the ring. Jerry Andrews: And what do you think of those tactics, Michael?Michael Wryght: That’s Mr Showtime to you, Jerry. And there’s nothing wrong with those tactics, the referee can’t disqualify you for something he doesn’t see. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.Kaard struggles to compose himself and regain his vision and veers straight back towards Ford who grabs him and drives his head into the match with a shuddering Implant DDT. Quickly he rolls Kaard over and hooks the leg… One… Tw…NO! Pushing out, Kaard tries to regain a vertical base and shakes his head to get his focus back. It doesn’t return quick enough as Ford hits a vicious high kick to the head that knocks Kaard silly. With Kaard stunned, Whitey takes hold of his head and rushes toward the ropes. Using fantastic agility, Ford jumps over the top rope and, as he drops to the outside of the ring, garrottes Kaard’s throat on the rope itself. He clutches his neck in the middle of the ring as Ford first plays to the fans, mocking them arrogantly, and then sends a serious look toward Mr Showtime at the commentary table, as if to say that he’s proving a point in this match. Looking back at Kaard, Ford jumps onto the apron and takes aim before throwing himself over the top rope and hitting a chest-crushing Tope Atomico. One… Two… TH…NO! Kaard gets a shoulder up just in time and pushes himself back to his feet where Ford meets him with a boot to the gut. Grabbing the arm, Whitey sends Kaard into the ropes and looks to hit a massive High Angle Dropkick… but Kaard holds onto the ropes and Ford crashes down to the mat. Ford tries to recover but only gets as far as kneeling in the middle of the ring when Kaard rushes forward and hits a devastating Projectile Hurricanrana, burying Whitey’s nose into the mat. The abuse he has taken means that Kaard is a little slower than normal to get to his feet but soon he is up and laying into Ford with a series of stomps to the back. Once he thinks Ford is weakened enough, Kaard hauls him back to his feet and unleashes a combo of stunningly fast strikes culminating in a snapping Enziguri Kick to the back of Ford’s skull. With his opponent dazed, Kaard hits the ropes and rebounds… only for Ford to snap out of it and lift Kaard into a Fireman’s Carry for the Wasted-Land! He pulls back for the impact but suddenly Kaard turns the tables on him and transitions into a Crucifix Neck Crank, dragging Whitey down to the mat with all his weight. Steve Shaw asks Ford for a submission but he hangs on, even as Kaard adds even more tension to the hold. Time after time the referee asks the stricken Ford to give up but no answer is given and the fans grow restless for more action, rallying behind a resurgent Kaard. Finally realising that he won’t get the submission but that enough damage has been done to keep his opponent down, Kaard lets go of the hold and makes for the corner. The PCW Faithful gets louder in its support as Kaard makes the climb step by step and promises to dispense his unique brand of high adrenaline justice. Reaching the top, Kaard sets himself and prepares to launch… when Whitey lashes out desperately and shoves Referee Shaw toward the ropes, sending Kaard off balance and crashing back down into the ring. Ford takes his time to recover now, knowing that Kaard is going nowhere fast. He gets his breath back as Shaw admonishes him for putting his hands on the referee, but with a smirk Whitey claims it was merely an accident. Grabbing hold of Kaard, Ford pushes him into the ropes and hooks both arms over the top to prevent an easy escape. With no defense, the ‘Adrenaline King’ is a glutton for punishment and soaks up numerous punches to the head and chest before taking a horrifying Standing Dropkick straight to his unprotected cranium. Dangling from the ropes, Kaard can only watch as Ford takes aim and hits the opposite side, rebounding and… Low bridge! Kaard finds the energy from somewhere to pull the ropes down and sends Whitey flying to the outside of the ring! When he tries to get to his feet on the outside, Whitey nearly stumbles into the crowd but recovers enough to stumble back towards the ring, just as Kaard throws himself over the top, lands on his shoulders and executes an awe-inspiring Halo Drop Hurricanrana. The crowd goes wild for the high risk offense of Kaard and the ‘Adrenaline King’ feeds off it, throwing Whitey’s body back into the ring. He takes a moment to give a distracted glance to Showtime at the commentary table and climbs onto the apron. Michael Wryght: Keep your eyes on the game, kid!Kaard brings one leg through the ropes when, once again, Whitey Ford goes to the dark side and boots the middle rope hard. The rope catches Kaard right in his gentleman vegetables and he stops right in his place as Steve Shaw points an accusatory finger at Ford, who once again looks like an innocent cherub of not for a smirk written across his face. Shaw lets it go and Ford grabs Kaard’s head, twisting and pulling him through the ropes with a sick-looking Snapmare followed by a brutal kick to the back of the head. With the focus of the match suddenly turned, the fans begin to wildly boo Whitey Ford and the consummate ‘Asshole’ feeds off the hate. He drops to his knees and grinds his forearm across the face of his young opponent, the sign of a veteran trying to teach a rookie a lesson in respect. Finally he breaks off from this and instead reverts to a blatant choke, only stopping when the referee reaches four on his count. With his actions getting increasingly vicious, Steve Shaw signals that Ford is very close to being disqualified but Ford brushes it off and pulls Kaard back to his feet. Michael Wryght: Stop messing with him Whitey, you’re smarter than that, just put him away.Ford grabs the hand of Kaard and whips him into the ropes, ducking shortly after for a Back Body Slam… but Kaard responds with a boot to the face! As Ford is dazed, Kaard hits the ropes again and rebounds, looking for the Fameasser-type maneuver he calls the Overdrive. Just as his leg is poised to drop, Whitey snaps into action and grabs Kaard in mid-air. He transitions Kaard into a Fireman’s Carry and slams him down with a blunt, bludgeoning Wasted-Land! Instead of pinning now, a look of arrogance passes over the face of Ford and he decides to add insult to injury. He bends down and hauls a hurt and struggling Kaard back to his knees, then slowly up to his feet. Ford uses all his remaining strength to lift his opponent high into the air in a Razors Edge style Crucifix. He holds Kaard there, making an example of him and even looking out towards Michael Wryght at ringside once more. Ford seems to shout something to him, not quite picked up clearly but enough to make out “This son of a bitch isn’t a contender, I am!”With that, Ford goes to hit the Backtoss Piledriver … but Justin Kaard drops out the back door at the very last second. As Ford struggles to understand what just happened, Kaard acts fast and springs off the nearest middle ropes, flying backwards with a sickening Springboard Roundhouse Kick to the back of Ford’s head! Whitey collapses to the mat in slow motion, apparently knocked senseless by the blow and Kaard wastes no time in moving to the corner and climbing. The fans get behind him, or just away from Whitey, as he gets to the top rope, sets himself and throws himself spectacularly from the top turnbuckle with a Seattle Space Walk that hits home hard! He hooks the leg in the lateral press and… One… Two… THREE! Mark Long: The winner by pinfall… JUSTIN KAAAAAARD!Winner: Justin Kaard
Having been declared the winner, Justin Kaard gets his arm raised in victory. He instinctively shoots Showtime a glance, and then Showtime can be seen sarcastically applauding and then stating, “Bravo. You actually won a match. It won’t happen at Living a Legacy,” and Kaard returns the comment with, “We’ll see when I become World Champion.”While Kaard and Showtime were jaw-jabbing each other, Ford had composed himself enough to exit the ring. He walks over to the time-keepers’ table and, seeing Ford walking his way, Showtime grabs the International Champion and extends it out to hand to Whitey. Showtime can be heard saying, “You’ll get him next time, champ.” Ford doesn’t care for Showtime’s words, however, and aggressively snatches his championship out of the World Champion’s hands. Ford begins walking up the entrance ramp when, about half-way up the ramp, without warning, “Power” by Kanye West begins to play throughout the arena. Ford stops momentarily as the current North American Champion Gabriel Cross, “The Archangel,” steps from behind the entrance curtain and begins making his way down the ramp. Whitey quickly loses interest and begins his way back up the ramp, but as he and Gabriel cross paths, the North American Champion blatantly stares in Ford’s face, smiling and smirking… apparently amused at Ford’s current state of anger. That, AND amused at the shoulder that he places firmly into Whitey as he moves further down. This prompts Ford to stop once more and call out towards Cross, but Cross pays no mind to him and continues to walk down the ramp. Whitey turns and watches Cross as he walks backwards the ENTIRE WAY up the ramp, yelling ' NEXT time, you little asshole. NEXT TIME.' You can tell Whitey wants to attack Cross but just doesn’t care enough to actually do so. As Cross makes his way into the ring, the feed fades to commercial. |
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Post by Murdoc on May 30, 2013 0:26:29 GMT -5
MATCH TWO
Non-Title Singles Match
"The Archangel" Gabriel Cross (N.A. ©) vs. Anson
Referee: AJ Bennett The show comes back on the air as Anson slinks under the bottom rope. The bizarre looking new superstar kneels in front of the turnbuckle and begins to stretch before the referee calls both men to the center of the ring and rings the bell. Gabriel Cross, for all his technical prowess, is caught off guard as Anson immediately tackles him to the ground. Anson goes for the pin right out of the gate. 1… Cross kicks out at one and rolls back, forcing separation between himself and Anson. Surprise is plastered across his face as he pulls himself back up against the turnbuckle. Anson is right there though, leaping through the air with a big splash. Cross barely slides out of the way as Anson crashes chest first into the turnbuckle. As Anson stumbles out of the corner he’s met by Cross who lifts and turns before planting him back into the mat with a spinebuster. Cross goes for the pin. 1… 2… Anson kicks out. Cross doesn’t let him get far though as he clinches with Anson and begins to pepper him with knees. One, two, three, four kicks; and he lets go of Anson’s head and irish whips him into the corner. Anson connects with the turnbuckle with teeth rattling force but gets no respite as Cross rushes in with a high knee. The blow connects and Cross uses his momentum to float over the ropes. Anson once again finds himself stumbling out of the corner. Cross leaps onto the ropes and goes for the springboard forearm. Anson ducks the forearm and Cross crashes and burns. Anson backs up and waits for Cross to get to his feet. As the discombobulated North American Champion gets shakily to his feet Anson charges in and nails Cross right between the eyes with a vicious Kenka Kick. And just like that the North American Champion is back on the mat. Anson goes for the cover. 1… 2… ..Cross kicks out just before the Referee’s hand hits the mat for the third time. Anson leaves his opponent on the ground and ascends the top turnbuckle and perches, waiting for Cross to get to his feet. Cross meanwhile is still staring at stars and tweety-birds from his back, slowly but surely the cobwebs are shaken free and he gets to his feet. Cross looks around for Anson and just as he turns Anson leaps off the apron with a picture perfect cross body block. Amazingly Cross catches the amazing flying man! Hefting him up into the air he follows the lift with a lightning quick knee to the temple, Crossfire! Anson hits the mat and Cross follows with the pin. 1… 2… 3… And almost as quickly as it began, the match is over! Winner: Gabriel Cross via PinfallAs ‘Power’ by Kanye West plays and Cross celebrates in the ring, Anson takes his leave and walks back up the stage. After Anson is gone Cross calls for a mic. “Cut the music.”The party stops and Cross paces in the ring. “Whitey, you want to talk about next time, I’ve got your next time right here. Come out if you’ve got the balls.”Never one to back down from a challenge, Whitey hits the stage sans his usual music. He stands tensed and ready. “You better be careful calling up the Devil,” Whitey mocks, “because sometimes he answers.”“Well isn’t that cute,” Cross mocks in kind. “Well since you’re so graciously deigned to answer the call I guess I won’t waste your time. You and me, Ford, at Living a Legacy. Both titles on the line. Winner takes all. What do you say, Whitey? My North American Championship for your International Championship. You willing to risk it all?”Whitey doesn’t answer. Not with words anyway. The indomitable International Champion just smiles as ... ... the feed cuts to the backstage area ... which seems virtually empty minus Justin Kaard strolling along the linoleum. He is without any member of Marshall’s Law, just the way he likes it at this moment. He turns a corner only to see the back of the last person on Earth he wanted to run into; “Mr. Showtime” Michael Wryght. He quietly tries to avoid contact with his stable-mate and just when he thinks he can escape scot-free, Showtime speaks up. Michael Wryght: What’s the matter kid? Afraid to face me?Justin Kaard: What I’m afraid of is another one of your long winded speeches. Showtime turns shooting daggers at Kaard, finally making eye contact. Kaard steps away from the corner he was going to duck behind and takes a few steps closer; showing that he doesn’t fear Showtime at all. In turn Showtime steps forward and without realizing huffs up his chest. Justin Kaard: What? Are you waiting here for me?Michael Wryght: Actually I was waiting for you. I really don’t understand why you are here if you weren’t interested in helping the greater good. And for one I would like some answers. You have to see that we all benefit here when we work as a team. We can take complete control of Pure Class Wrestling if we work together, but that is impossible if we are fighting amongst ourselves. When you bailed on me last Trauma…Justin Kaard: Look at you. All high and mighty, but if I recall you did something very similar to Wasp a few weeks back. You fed him to the wolves and never looked back. What’s the matter? Are there different rules for Showtime than the rest of Marshall’s Law?Michael Wryght: Are you serious, boy? I felt terrible that things went down that way with Wasp. Plus, I came out publically to apologize to him and gave him Stormm to beat upon until he felt better. I always put Marshall’s Law first. Something that I have done since Marshall and I formed this group.
Justin Kaard: Right…Michael Wryght: Between the two of us we could have handed it to The New Breed and Michaels at Trauma 133. But now we still have all three of them running their mouth while you make us all look like chumps.
Justin Kaard: I’m not your puppet, nor am I Marshall’s.Michael Wryght: You don’t get it do you. We’re not trying to pull your strings; we are trying to help you. But obviously you can’t see that. I guess that you are a more practical learner; more hands on. How about we make things a bit more interesting? Justin Kaard: Don’t suggest again that I give up my title shot.Michael Wryght: Oh, no. I’m looking forward to it now. I’m thinking that a standard title match isn’t enough. I think the fans deserve better and I think it might behoove you to see a master at work.Kaard just condescendingly stares at these comments as Showtime fixes his tie and stands as tall as he can. The mere four inch difference seems towering with the angle of the camera. Michael Wryght: I say that at Living a Legacy we have ourselves an old fashion ladder match. It’s my favorite. Justin Kaard: Whatever you want old man.Kaard drives his shoulder into Showtime and begins to walk away. From the opposite direct comes Skylar Marshall catching the tail end of the scene. Skylar Marshall: What the hell was that all about?Michael Wryght: Your young lad and I were just coming to a friendly agreement. Just do me a favor and make sure that Stormm is the only one of your messes that we’ll need to clean up.With that, Showtime also storms off leaving Marshall bewildered and alone in the hall way. |
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Post by Murdoc on May 30, 2013 0:27:01 GMT -5
MATCH THREE
Icemann Invitational Final 4
Grimm vs. "Dollface" Kelli Starr
Referee: Marcos Cruz As the rapid harpsichord music of ‘Syringe’ by Emilie Autumn sounds over the PCW loudspeakers, all the arena lights go out save for delicately strobing green lights at the stage area. Increasing in tempo with the music, they light up a single female figure standing at the top of the ramp. With the heavy pulse of the bass kicking in, multicolored lights begin to flicker and strobe in a rainbow of chaos as Dollface makes her energetic way to the ring. She slips under the bottom rope into the ring as the frenetic rave-like lighting continues, dancing in the ring as she waits for her opponent ... ... the Hangtown Horror himself. She’s not left waiting long as "Winter Shaker" seeps from the speakers. Phinehas Grimm steps out to bask in the light and shadows, head bowed, arms limp, with rogue strands of dripping hair hanging in his face. He takes it all in for a few moments before making the long walk to the ring, ignoring the fans along the way while Wovenhand continues his serenade. Phinehas climbs up onto the apron and slides in between the ropes. Hopping up onto 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. Phinehas drops down and waits. DING DING DING! Grimm offers a nod of the head, to which Kelli just smiles and nods back. The two begin circling the ring and in wades Grimm with a chop. A second chop. The third chop flies over Starr’s head as she ducks underneath. Coming from the other side, she chops Grimm once between the shoulder blades and when he turns to face her, a chop to the pectorals for good measure. The two face to face again, Grimm stops her from gaining any more momentum by throwing a boot to the midsection that doubles her over. Bouncing back off the ropes, Grimm rushes towards Kelli and is met with a hip toss setup. Blocking the move, Grimm side-steps through and hurls Starr over his side. Starr holding onto Grimm’s arm, she throws him with an arm drag that sends him off into the opposite set of ropes. Grimm semi-rolling through to face an oncoming Starr, Grimm rises as she meets him ... literally SHOVING her up a good two feet OVER his shoulders. Flying through the air for a few beautiful moments, she lands nimbly on the top rope and ... with a spring ... reverses with a wheel kick that drops Grimm to the mat. Quick floatover into a pinfall. 1 .. ... quick kickout and Grimm is right back into the thick of things. Kelli wading in with several punches and chops, backing the Lord of Misrule into the nearest corner and putting the boots to him. Grimm spinning Kelli back into the corner herself via Muay Thai clinch, holding onto the neck and weakening her midsection with several knees to the abdomen. With a snag, Kelli grabs the opposite leg of the next one thrown and takes Grimm to the mat ... her MMA roots showing as she smothers Grimm with as much weight as she can muster ... only managing to get into half-guard. Grimm managing to escape the hold, he returns to a standing position with Starr. Very evenly matched at the out-set, Grimm and Starr circle around again but this time ... Grimm catches Starr coming in with a brutal headbutt. A second and Starr is staggering back towards the ropes. Moving in to press the attack, Grimm throws a boot to the midsection ... SNAP DDT! Quick pinfall attempt. 1 ... 2 ... ... kickout by Starr! Grimm playing the aggressor thus far, he’s watching ... waiting for Kelli to really catch her second wind. That way, he can more easily deflate her sails. As she staggers to her feet, Grimm is there to trip her up. Holding her legs, he’s pulled in and forcibly shoved back into the ropes. Rolling forward, Kelli is ready for the rebounding Grimm and forces him over her with a huge monkey flip. Incredible leg strength by Starr ... and the crowd is on their feet for this back and forth match-up. A quick kip-up and Starr rushes Grimm with a LOWWWWW dropkick that send the Hangtown Horror face first to the mat ... right into a waiting Kelli Starr elbow smash. Excellent combination and Kelli rolls Grimm over for a pinfall attempt. 1 ... 2 ... ... th-NO! Grimm throws a shoulder up at two, and the crowd is split 50-50 on their favorite. Grimm being cheered to destroy, Kelli cheered for her determination. Kelli is back on her feet and awaiting Grimm’s retaliation. Actually? Not so much. No waiting. No hesitation. To have a shot at destroying the monster, she MUST go full bore! Racing at Grimm, she snaps off a hurricanrana that drops Grimm yet again. She’s building up a head of steam ... and there’s Grimm waiting like a gatekeeper, forcing Kelli off the mat and planting her back first with a HUGE spinebuster. Shaking the cobwebs loose from that vicious elbow strike, Grimm reaches his feet and begins that slow ... methodical walk. Pacing around Kelli, he’s waiting as she begins to fight to a kneeling position. A kick here and there, a boot to the side of the head. Kelli is ignoring the pain, seemingly as she finally makes it to her feet. Grabbing his foot on the last boot attempt, she spins him around ... and round the mountain when he comes, Grimm throws a HEAVY lariat that drops Dollface to the mat. Not bothering with a pin attempt, Grimm drags her to her feet and throws a few swatting paws at her head ... hoping to shake the cobwebs free FOR her. He WANTS her to see and recognize what’s coming. Hopping up, he hooks her neck and spins .... it looks like the set-up for the Harvest - -NO! Kelli continues the rotation and pushes him off of her neck at the last moment ... dropping Grimm’s feet back to the mat and away from her. She rushes in and dives at his mid-section, narrowly missing as Grimm falls backwards ... letting Kelli land on him. He is more than willing to take the impact as he wraps his arms around her neck and left shoulder ... forcing her shoulder against her own carotid artery while he hooks the other side. An arm triangle choke! The producers and staff scramble for verification while Kelli SCRAMBLES for an escape. It’s VERY obvious she does not like closed-in spots. Identified as ‘The Winding Stair’, Grimm locks the hold in as Kelli kicks and claws and moves as quickly as she can. She’s been on the receiving end of this hold and knows that, unless she can find a way to break it ... she will pass out within mere MOMENTS. Dragging herself backwards, she finally finds the tips of her shoes tripping the bottom strand. Grimm refusing to release the hold, he’s holding on for everything he has. BUT! To do so would jeopardize his chances of moving on in the tournament. Feeling Kelli go limp in his grasp, Grimm finally - - DING DING DING! - - releases the hold. The referee moving to the ringside announcer, he nods and points at the two competitors in the ring and motions for him to speak. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, your winner ... BY WAY OF DISQUALIFICATIOOOOON ... KELIIIIII STARR!’Winner: Kelli Starr via disqualificationKelli, in looking for Grimm’s weakness the entire build-up for this match ... seems to have found a crack in Grimm’s eldritch armor! Nothing tangible - it was Grimm’s ability and want to deliver pain to his opponents! Kelli has been able to defeat JoDee Burns- a “well-known women wrestler,” Rick Majors- an “industry legend,” and now Grimm- one of the most well-known, feared, and respected grapplers in PCW. She’s been able EVERY TIME to find a way to win through her opponent’s weakness ... no matter HOW obscure ... and now has managed to push herself to the FINALS of the Icemann Invitational Tournament! Kelli is checked on as Grimm stands off to the side ... looking rather annoyed at the way things have played out as we switch to a feed from the truck. -- I Salute You -- We are forced to look through smudgy fingerprints covering the lens to notice the beautiful sunset in the distance. Toying with us for a moment, the oversized sun dances on the horizon before dipping itself behind the hillside for the night. The dusk air is chilly for late May, and is slightly enhanced by the disappearance of the sun. We find Dillon sitting at a small picnic table... its paint pealing from age. A burning grill placed behind, releasing its smoke into the crisp air. A half eaten burger laying sloppily on the dirty table, along with a massive piece of corn on the cob. Dillon lounges back, his body suggests his stomach is getting full as he guzzles the remainder of his Natural Light forty ounce. The camera pans in and out, struggling to capture his movements as he casually sits forwards... his elbows crashing onto the flimsy table. Our bottom right hand screen reads “ May 27 2013... 8:53 pm.” “I’d like to take the time to salute you, Rick.” Dillon bellows. “It’s this day every year... that we must pay homage to the Veterans... dead and living. You see, in case any of you out there AREN’T in the know, Mr. Majors was a real trailblazer in his day. One might have even called him an outlaw for creating a path that most of us follow to this very day.
“The Impact” Rick Majors.”
His laughter grows. “I bet it’s been awhile since anybody has called you that... huh, Rick? The only Impact YOU’VE been makin’ lately is your limp carcass smashing onto the canvas here in P.C.W.”Putting a cigarette to his mouth, Dillon strikes a match off the heel of his boot. “Time after time ... you’ve been handed the keys to this here castle, Rick. Yet week after week, you couldn’t seal the deal. Ford. Showtime. Dollface. I’d say the word “Impact” doesn’t really describe you any longer huh, buddy? Make no mistake ... before the heroes of Pure Class emerged ... there was Rick Majors. Before Ace Anderson ... there was Rick Majors. Before Loki ... Grimm ... hell, even before there was Dillon Durst ... there was Rick Majors.”
He takes a relaxing draw from his smoke. “Jesus Christ, Rick. What the hell happened to you? Do you know how many records you once held in this industry? How many accolades were reserved ... how many Championships you’ve held? Now what? Now you moonlight as a borderline footstool for these puppets in Pure Class? You’re the JOKE now? The punchline?”Dillon pauses, as trails of pyro shoot off in the distance behind him. Exploding Red, White, and Blue fireworks boom from behind. “I promise you this ... Rick!” He yells, pausing to let the fireworks subside. He crunches into his corn cob... leaving speckles of kernels and juice behind, dangling in his beard. “As I can only salute your milestones ... I will make you one promise. One promise, that I intend to carry out come hell or high water.
I will end this mockery of yours, Rick. No matter how long it takes ... through fire and brimstone ... I will make my way to you. And when I’m done? I’m going to do what I should have done so ... SO long ago. Not for me ... not for the P.C.W. No, no.
... I’m going to do it for you, Rick ... because I can’t stand to watch this any longer."
"The next time I salute you... will be in your memory."A chaotic giggle escapes him, as he takes another messy bite from his cob of corn. The soggy kernels fly from his mouth with his laughter. The overbearing noise only grows, as we hit static. -- A Picture’s Worth --
The static fades but the view is still jittery as the show cuts to another feed from a camera backstage. It appears as though a camera person is quickly rushing into place, causing the camera to shake. It stabilizes and we see Rick Majors walking into the arena. He is looking straight ahead, ignoring the road agents and staff that are working and conversing nearby. Majors doesn’t pay any attention to the camera person either, even as he walks right by the camera. Majors turns and walks down another hallway and the camera follows. Rick Majors now enters a locker room. The door slowly starts to swing shut, but the camera person apparently stops it from doing so. The audience at home and those inside the arena can now see inside Rick Majors’ locker room. Majors doesn’t seem to notice that the camera is still focused on him. He sits down on a bench in the middle of the room, his back to the camera. Majors places his equipment bag on the floor. He takes a deep breath, bends over and opens the bag. He pulls out his wrestling gear and places it on the bench beside him. He then returns to the bag. He now pulls out a picture frame. The camera zooms in as Majors stares at the frame. The frame is old and worn. The glass protecting the image is scratched. There is a dent in the metal portion of the frame. As the shot focuses more clearly, it becomes apparent that the picture inside the frame is one of Dillon Durst holding a lead pipe, standing above a fallen Rick Majors. Majors stares at the frame for a long time. He then speaks softly to himself. The camera barely picks up his words. "That was the moment...."Majors slumps forward in his seat. He then places the frame back inside his bag and he lowers his head into his hands. Majors remains there for several seconds. It appears as though he is shaking slightly. Eventually the camera person backs away, allowing the door to softly close. MATCH FOUR
Non-Title Handicap Match
Justin "Stormm" Michaels vs. The New Breed (Tag Team ©)
Referee: Manny Cruz
Blue spotlight flash to life on either side of the stage and twirls away into the crowd timed to the beat as the guitars come to life and the beginning of Two Steps From Hell’s ' Jump' begins to play. As the horns build to a crescendo, and the guitars really begin to jam, two figures are lit from under the stage in bright white spotlights as a cascade of red sparks falls behind them. They raise their arms over their heads holding up the PCW Tag Team Title Belts high. Red, white, and blue fireworks shoot off down the ramp as the two men emerge onto the stage and the crowd can see for the first time that they are John Cable and Sebastian St. Paul. John and SSP rush the ring slapping hands with fans on both side of the aisle cheering wildly. They slide in under the bottom ropes as the stirring melody of the horns picks up and the crowd goes wild with cheers for the New Breed as they put up their fists like they are ready for a fight, then climb opposite turnbuckles showing off their Titles to the fans before they hop down into the ring again as the music dies out and the lights come back on. The arena lights dim down to a gentle glow and the sound of pouring rain fills the arena to the brim as an orange fog begins to cover the entrance way. Hardly containing themselves already, the fans start to rise to their feet as a sudden bright flash of orange lights flood the crowd before a deafening crash of thunder rattles the foundation and leaves the arena in darkness. The pre-chorus rift to " Crash" by Decyfer Down instigates a small riot amongst those in attendance as orange flashes, like lightning, illuminate the way for the Force of Nature, and Justin Michaels appears through the curtain and onto the stage, followed by his wife, the lovely Lindsay Michaels. 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. Having made it to ringside with his lovely wife at his side, Stormm patrols around to the opposite side of the ring and gives a mocking salute towards Al Laiman, the man who for years has mocked the "mispelling" of Justin's nickname. Justin hops up onto the apron, and assists his wife up and through the ropes before motioning to the crowd once more. DING DING DING! The bell rings and the three men are eyeing each other VEEEEEEEEEERY carefully. Justin starting off (har har) against John Cable, the two circle the ring ... jockeying for position before going in for a collar-end-elbow tie up. The two men battling to gain dominance and the all-important opening advantage ... it’s Cable who comes out on top, forcing Stormm into a neutral corner. Forcing his hands high into the air, the referee counts the five count and ... surprisingly ... the hold is broken cleanly, with no liberties being taken. Cable backs away and nods at Stormm, who shakes his arm out as he moves back from the frying pan and into the fire. The two circling again, this time ... as Stormm gets to the New Breed’s corner, he fires off a back elbow that catches St. Paul off guard. Rushing Cable in the moment of confusion, Stormm nails several punches and kicks that leave his opponent rocked. Slipping in through the side, Stormm plants Cable with a side russian leg sweep and floats over quickly for the pin. Netting only a quick one-count, St. Paul is beginning to move into the ring just in case. Stormm hopping up quickly to ward off the second person in the match, he momentarily loses track of his current situation and is caught from behind by a vicious chop block to the knee. Cable following that up by flipping Storm over, he cinches in a spinning toe hold that works on the leg and knee of Stormm. The crowd rather mixed in response to both Stormm AND the New Breed, it’s a struggle in the middle of the ring as Stormm fights his way to the ropes. Stormm now free, the damage looks to be done, Stormm limping ever so slightly ... and Cable smells blood in the water. Going on the heavy offensive, he rushes Stormm with several strikes ... but Stormm fires back! He won’t be taken lightly, even if he IS out-numbered! Forcing Cable back into the corner, St. Paul tags himself in as Stormm continues the assault on John Cable. St. Paul rushing to the other side of the ring, he enters and takes off at breakneck speed ... sprinting at the pair in the corner. Cable pushing Stormm off with a show of brute force, St. Paul crashes into Stormm with a high velocity clothesline to the back of the skull that absolutely PLANTS Stormm face first to the mat. Cable exiting the ring under the referee’s watchful eye, St. Paul takes up where his partner left off and stomps several times at the back of Justin Michaels’ knee and a few shots at the neck. Dropping down, he grapevines the leg and begins to twist, wrenching at the knee and ankle. Stormm fights to make it anywhere but the center of the ring ... St. Paul forcing the Force of Nature to drag his dead weight along with him. Of course, adding some vicious pressure and torgue doesn’t hurt St. Paul’s cause. Finally making it to the ropes, it’s very apparent that Stormm’s bum leg is going to cause problems as he struggles mightily to make it to his feet. Holding onto the ropes, he reacts quickly to St. Paul rushing him, sidestepping and hurling him out through the ropes to the floor below. The ref beginning the count, Cable begins to come into the ring but only manages to distract the ref from his count. Well, that and allow St. Paul to hook Stormm’s bad leg and drop him ... slamming his thigh brutally onto the apron. Cable stepping back out, St. Paul moves back in to make a quick cover. 1 ... 2 ... ... kick-out! St. Paul moving to stand, he bring Stormm along with him ... grabbing hold of Stormm’s ankle and twisting with a joint-popping Dragon Screw. Sadistically, St. Paul HANGS ON and pulls Stormm up by the hair and ankle again, this time bending the knee underneath his opponent and hoisting him high into the air ... letting him look ALLLLLLL the way down before slamming the folded joint onto his own thigh ... bad intentioned Knee Breaker drop. Stormm is in a LOT of agony as St. Paul moves to tag in John Cable. With Michaels on the mat, Sebastian St. Paul tags in John Cable. The Beast slowly comes through the ropes and stands over the fallen Stormm looking down at him. Stormm, still fighting to win this match, claws his way up the pants of Cable and struggles to try and get up. John helps him to his feet slowly ... only to watch as Stormm falls back into the nearest set of ropes for support. And yet, Stormm raises his hands and beckons Cable to bring it on like he wants to fight still! John says to him, “ Justin... just stop. We don't want to fight you, man. There are bigger threats here than...” and Justin tumbles through a weak right hook and rolls across the mat, face down and clutching at his knee. Cable looks to the ref to just stop the fight, but Stormm won't stay down long enough to get the 10 count. Struggling to his feet again, Stormm manages to pull his way up the ropes nearby and wobble to his feet once more. Suddenly, Showtime, Wasp, and High Tide come barreling over the guard rail from the crowd and slide into the ring under the bottom rope! As if on cue, Stormm stands bolt upright, a sadistic gleam in his eye as he stares at Michael Wryght across the ring. Wasp and Tide square off across from Sebastian and John, and the six of them stare at each other while the ref is yelling at Marshall's Law not to interfere. They were FAKING THE WHOLE TIME!!! It was all just a TRAP to lure Marshall's Law to ringside! Like opposing tsunami, both sides crash into each other with no regard for their own well being. Fists and feet fly all around, and the violence among them is astounding. Wasp grabs Sebastian by the back of the neck as the ref calls for the bell, and drives him towards the ropes at a dead run. Both men topple over the top, and spill out to the outside. Tide and John occupy a corner, trading stiff shots back and forth as the crowd screams for the inevitable bloodbath that will surely ensue here. Stormm and Wryght now, tied up in the middle of the ring, struggling to overpower one another, but neither man giving an inch. Finally, Wryght lands a solid knee to the midsection of Michaels and finally gains the advantage. Showtime pulls Stormm in for a side headlock, and then pulls again sending Stormm to the mat in a side headlock take-down. Showtime, laying across Stormm's chest, cinches down on the side headlock, and brings his knee up... over and over... landing some sick knee strikes to the top of Stormm's head. Stormm finally manages to roll Showtime over, and slide out of the headlock. Wasting no time, he hits a huge standing drop kick on the back of Showtime's head laying on the mat, spins and floats over into a front chancery facelock, swiftly standing and pulling Showtime to his feet with him. Stormm wants to make his mark right here! Stormm rolls, twisting Showtime's neck in a spinning Neck Breaker, popping to his feet instantly, adrenaline coursing through him now, as he drops a massive elbow smash on the still fallen Showtime. Stormm again pops to his feet, laying the boots into Showtime with a fury. Wasp and Sebastian on the outside, still trading blows against the guard rails as the fans scream all around them. John and Tide having spilled onto the floor a while ago on the far side of the ring... Tide, leaning heavily against the ring steps as Cable rushes at him, but Tide saw it coming and throws himself to the floor as Cable drives himself shoulder first into the ring post with a sickening thud. Finally, PCW Security makes it way down the ramp in a huge swarm and break the three pairs of men apart, as the scene fades to commercial. |
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Post by Murdoc on May 30, 2013 0:27:28 GMT -5
MATCH FIVE Singles Match Q vs. "The Legacy" Dillon Durst Referee: Austin Shaw The sound of rocket ships can be heard in the background. The low ... but steadily rising rumble of engines. WHOOSH. KSSSSSSSSH. The doors open and ... ... out rolls the FUNK. Q steps out as 'Supersoulfighter’ by Lenny Kravitz starts, the crowd getting into that fresh, tasty jam. He's smiling and bobbing his head as he walks to the ring in step with the beat. Slapping hands. Kissing babies. Showing off signs dedicated to him, or anything he thinks is creative or noteworthy. The lights pulsate in multi-colored hues. the music kicking into full swing as he finishes his walk to the ringside area. The atmosphere has shifted from one of combat to one of FUN. DEFINITELY something different than what the PCW Faithful are used to from the Single-Letter Superstar. And you know what? The change isn’t so bad! As he enters the ring, he catapults himself over the top rope and rolls in, sprinting towards the hard camera and getting RIGHT in its' focus, shaking it and directing it out to the crowd in attendance ... who are engaging in a party as he waits to start. The rhythm of "Good Man" by Devour the Day takes the place of the catchy soul tune, a highlight package of Dillon Durst beginning to play on the screen of the Jumbo Tron. The crowd motion in the crowd resembles that of a "wave"... as the crowd all rise to their feet, directing all eyes to the entry way. The curtain to the backstage area slides open, as "The Legacy" stomps his way onto the entrance ramp. He pauses halfway down the aisle, as red and white trails of pyro blasts themselves into the rafters of the erupting arena. Durst takes this time to pound his chest, boasting to the fans, who at this time, are reaching for, and in fact touching the skin of Wrestling's prototype. Durst leaps from the turnbuckle, and now begins to circle the ring... looking to all parts of the rattling arena. A laugh of pleasantry escapes him, as he hits the ropes, loosening himself up. Moving himself to the edge of the ring, where he begins to eye down his pray ... he slithers through the ring like a snake. He stands in the center of the ring as a single spotlight beams down onto his frame, spotlighting the "Legacy." Dillon holds his hands to the air, pointing upward. Once bringing them down, he points to the whole arena of fans, and mouthing mixed comments to them, he points to himself one last time, spitting the excess water and sweat from his lips, and mouths the words " Let the judgement begin." As the song fades out, it is replaced by a jeering crowd who are at their wits end with Durst. The lights in the arena kick back on, as the smoke from Dillon's pyro clouds up the arena entrance, and ring. Durst backs himself to the nearest corner of the ring and leans back, propping his arms onto the ropes and moves his focus towards his opponent in the ring. DING DING DING! It’s obvious that Dillon has scouted Q’s shenaniganry well, knowing that Q prefers to re-direct momentum in his fighting style. That knowledge is readily apparent in Dillon’s opening salvo, starting off with a heavy striking attack. Q is caught off-guard in the center of the ring as Dillon lays in the punches and chops, backing Q Quickly into the corner he came from. Dillon raining down blow after blow, he only backs away as the referee steps in. Long enough of a break for Q to explode out of the corner, surprising Dillon with a double leg takedown that leaves him back first on the mat. Q firmly atop Dillon, he grabs both sides of the man’s head and begins to shake! An ode to his former tag partner. And although not as effective, it still gets the job done as Q stands from the mat ... leaving Dillon dazed on the floor, struggling to make it to his feet. As he does so, Q rushes in ... only to be whipped into the corner opposite. As Dillon rushes in, Q kneels to absorb as much of the impact as possible ... forcing he and DIllon both backwards back towards the center of the ring in a pile. Q laying on Dillon back first, he attempts to kip-up with a show of flash and style ... but finds he cannot do so, what with Dillon throwing his balance off by being under his shoulders. He’s smothering the man with his back and shoulders, it seems to be. Over and over until Q finally manages to pop up, the crowd roaring with the successful maneuver. Q looks down and, a bit mortified, begins to help Dillon to his feet. Dillon responds with an open-handed slap to the face that forces Q away from him. As Dillon regains his footing, he swoops in and hoists Q onto his shoulders. Q shifting his weight in mid-air, he forces Dillon to spin around a few times ... looking Quite pleased at the inertia before looking rather pained as Dillon lands a huge Samoan Drop. The unorthodox Q battling to his feet, Dillon cuts off his recovery and hooks in a Bow and Arrow lock, continuing to slow down the waning pace. Noticing that Q is unwilling to submit, Dillon releases the hold a good number moments later ... leaving Q to crawl towards the ropes. Picking him up by the hair, Dillon hooks the arm and lifts Q in a delayed vertical suplex ... letting the blood rush to Q’s head before drilling him to the mat. A quick pin attempt nets him a two count, says referee Austin Shaw. Moving in to collect his fallen opponent, a rare sight. Grabbing Q by the hair, Q screams at the top of his lungs ‘ BOO!!!’. Dillon legitimately startled by this, Q takes advantage of the confusion and crawls through Dillon’s legs, hooking one as he goes and dropping Dillon face-first onto the canvas. Keeping hold of the leg, he flips the startled man over and grabs hold of the other ankle ... beginning a slow and gradual build to a GIANT SWING! The crowd is roaring as Q’s brilliant smile is visible in the dizzying maelstrom of color that is is ring attire. Letting Dillon go at the apex of the swing, the loss of an anchor sends Q flying back in the OTHER direction ... into the nearest corner post. As Dillon crashes to the mat at Mach Q, his opponent is staggering towards him ... grinning gleefully as he collects Dillon. Lifting him off the mat, Dillon pushes Q back and into the referee ... who is forced aside as Dillon reacts with a shoulder block to the gut that takes both men down to the mat yet again. It’s obvious both men are fuzzy, thanks to the eQuilibrium jarring effects of Q’s offense, although one might argue that Q is the better eQuipped to deal with it ... it seems like he stands under ceiling fans and follows a single blade as a form of entertainment. Both staggering to their feet, Dillon grabs Q’s wrist and pulls him in ... hoisting him up and holding him sideways for a few moments before casually hurling him overhead like a sack of potatoes. A beautiful fall away slam and a subsequent pin. 1 ... 2 ... ... Q kicks out at 2 and 3/4. A close call there and Dillon is on the referee’s case about it. Not for too long, though; he doesn’t dare jeopardize his match when he;s so close to putting his opponent away. As he goes to collect Q, he’s stopped in mid-pull by the crowd buzzing. Their attention re-focusing, he follows their gaze towards the ramp area. Turning quickly, expecting an ambush ... he stops as his eyes land on Rick Majors, standing at the top of the entrance way! The crowd buzzing, Dillon moves to the ropes and points at Majors. Almost as if to say 'You won’t get ME with that trick.’. As Durst’s attention is divided for a split-second, Q ... sneezes? As he covers his mouth, Dillon’s attention is garnered and as Durst turns to face his opponent again ...? Q sneezes a second time. But ... IT’S COLORED! The BLUE MIST! THE BLUE MIST ... actually, the blue MISSED is more like it. The sneeze ruining the element of surprise, there stands Q ... hands covered in blue mist. Caught blue-handed. His eyes wide, Dillon takes off after Q. Q running for his life, Dillon finally catches him by the hair and rears back to throw a solid haymaker. Instead, Q fights to escape ... rubbing his blue mist covered fingers and hands all over Dillon’s face, effectively blinding the man. As Dillon backs away in pain, Q looks at the referee and the referee shrugs in confusion. He didn’t ACTUALLY spit it into the man’s face. Q looks at the crowd and rushes Dillon, forcing him to bend over forward as he leaps ... rolling through and pulling out a beautiful Sunset Flip. The referee is in the perfect position ... ! 1 ... 2 ... .... 3! DING DING! Winner: Q via pinfallAs Q slips out of the ring and over the nearest barricade to celebrate with the fans ... Dillon staggers to his feet still wiping his eyes of the blue gunk that is now drying around his eyes in a rather comical super-hero mask fashion. Eyes betraying rage, he directs his attention back to the main stage where Rick Majors calmly offers a nod of the head before disappearing into the back once again. Dillon is left to rage to himself as the referee attempts to help him to the back ... avoiding Shaw’s helping hand and leaving on his own terms. MATCH SIX
Tag Team Match
Andy D & "The British Lion" Tyler Scott vs. The Flying Freebooters
Referee: Charles Lim The lights of the arena slowly begin to dim, before going altogether dark. ‘Hollow’ by Alice In Chains hits as the lights begin to flicker and the Freebooters enter, both just standing there, posing. The crowd booing does not faze them, as they motion for the crowd to get louder as they soak in the attention. As they make their way down the ramp and towards the ring, flipping several fans the bird as both men climb up the stairs and climb to the turnbuckles horizontally across from each other. Beckoning for the opponents to come from the back, as the music is about to fade, both perform a backflip into the ring as ... ... BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! The familiar thudding introduction of ‘Galvanise’ by Chemical Brothers announces the arrival of Tyler Scott. After a momentary pause, the curtain flings back and out strolls Tyler Scott to a mixture of cheers and jeers. Having appeared wearing a red and black leather biker jacket, he soon gives it up, sliding off and flinging it to the side of the entrance ramp. He heads to the ring, staying his usual focused self. Instead of climbing into the ring to warm up ... he prefers to wait for his partner at the bottom of the ramp. The intro of 'Are You Not Entertained' hits out on the PA system, and when it asks for everybody to scream the crowd goes crazy and Andy appears from the back. As he heads towards the ring, he slaps hands with as many people of the crowd as he can. Approaching the ring, Andy slides under the bottom rope alongside Tyler Scott, which sends the Freebooters to the outside. Both men preparing, it’s decided that Tyler Scott will start the match off ... while High Tide rolls in for the opposition. The players are in place ... DING DING DING! Scott and Tide representing their respective teams, Tide rushes Scott out of the gate and catches the Brit unawares, hammering him with punch after punch, staggering the man in the center of the ring. Pushing him to a neutral corner, Tide rains down even MORE shots ... a HIGH TIDE of strikes ... that leaves Scott punch-drunk. To add to the inebriation, Tide ascends to the second turnbuckle and begins punching down at Scott with the crowd counting alongside the man. Even if the fans don’t like him ... they DO like to count. At the count of seven, Scott rage-quits being a punching bag and forces Tide off of him. Clearing his head as quickly as possible, he catches Tide coming in with a momentous clothesline that leaves both men on the mat. Tyler on top of Tide, arm still draped over him ... the referee dives in for a long one-count. Tide’s bell having been rung, Scott clambers to his feet and looks around to cement his whereabouts. Dragging Tide to his feet, he throws a boot to the gut and ... FREE-LEGGED ENZUGIRI! The impact dropping Tide to the mat, Scott drags the fallen opponent to his own corner and tags in Andy D who ... while acknowledging the tag ... isn’t so fond of being ... TOUCHED ... by Tyler. There’s still obviously some bad blood and while Andy regards Tyler, he thinks little more than of the task at hand as he hops nimbly into the ring. Picking Tide up ... he looks at Scott ... Scott has the same idea ... STEREO FREE-LEGGED ENZUGIRI! Both men sandwiching Tide’s poor head between their legs, he has nowhere to go but down. Literally, his legs are jelly and cannot support the weight of his body DOWN. Scott exiting as quickly as he can, Andy drops into a cover. 1 ... 2 ... ... a boot to the back of the head from Wasp and the count is broken. The ref ushering Martins out, Andy drags Tide to his feet and whips him across the ring. Tide landing in his own corner, the ref is out of place for the slap and misses the tag. Tide ducking the Diving ‘D, Andy lands sternum first into the turnbuckle ... falling backwards over the cowering Tide. Wasp springboarding over the top rope, he NAILS Andy with a diving clothesline that leaves both men near the middle of the ring. As Wasp goes to press the attack, the ref stops him and informs him of the illegal actions. Wasp is NOT the legal man! As the ref forces Wasp back out, Tide takes advantage of the situation regardless and puts the boots to the fallen Andy D. The referee moving back in to follow the action, Tide drops to cover Andy with a quick lateral press. 1 ... 2 ... ... kick out! Andy gets the shoulder up at the last second. Tide having caught a bit of his breath back, he aims to take the pace to his comfortable level as he drags Andy to his feet. Holding him in place, he turns a full 360 degrees and plants him on the at with a discus clothesline. The impact of muscle on muscle rings out over even the audience in attendance ... the sound of air being forcibly shoved out of lungs not the prettiest of sounds. Dragging Andy back over to his own corner, he makes the quick tag to his partner (this one in full view) as Wasp slips in quickly. Doubling up on Andy D, they whip him into the ropes and catch him with a GIGANTIC double flapjack that leaves Andy on the mat gasping for air. Wasp flipping him over, he drops onto Andy for a quick two count. Only a two count with Scott entering the fray with a diving elbow, but who knows? The ref escorting Scott back out, Wasp is quick to throw Andy towards his own corner ... Tide accidentally having a boot placed on the top rope to meet Andy’s face. What? He was stretching. Another quick tag, The Freebooters are showing some expert teamwork while Andy and Tyler seem unable to get out of the starting gate. Tide and Wasp each grabbing an arm and a leg, Andy D is forced up into the air a good few feet facing the ceiling on the way up. On the way DOWN, however, Andy is able to turn in his downward momentum ... hooking both Tide AND Wasp’s head with his arm, using his legs and hips as a balancing point to drive both men to the mat with a EARTH-ROCKING double DDT! The crowd is on their FEET for Andy and Andy is using them as fuel, their cheers inspiring him to move. A slow ... LOOOOOONG crawl towards his own corner. With Tide and Wasp both breathing down his neck, Andy dives in an act of desperation and finds Tyler waiting! The tag made, Tyler comes in and stomps Tide a few times ... leaving his as roadkill on the mat as Wasp rises to his feet to eat a clothesline. A second. A THIRD and Tyler is on fire! Picking Wasp up, he whips him into the ropes. Wasp reverses the whip and throws Tyler into the ropes. Tyler bouncing off of the second strand, he twists in mid-air and levels Wasp with a diving clothesline ... a quick cover nets him a two count. Two count thanks to Tide diving in for the save. Andy D is back in to meet Tide as he rises from the save. Wasp and Scott pairing off, the ref has lost ALL control as the four men go balls to the wall. Andy and Tide near the ropes, Scott whips Wasp into the ropes sending BOTH men out to the floor. The referee turning to face the only two men in the ring, Wasp staggers into a waiting Tyler Scott ... who meets Wasp with an arm around the neck and under the near arm ... rearing back ... STO! The Sudden Impact from Tyler Scott! The ring shaking with the force, he drops to make the cover. 1 ... 2 ... ... Tide dives in to make the save, but Andy has hold of his foot ... ... 3! Winner(s): Andy D & Tyler Scott; Tyler Scott pins WaspThe crowd is on their feet as the two men celebrate ... all the while keeping an eye out for each other ... as the feed cuts to a commercial break. |
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Post by Murdoc on May 30, 2013 0:28:17 GMT -5
MATCH SEVEN Non-Title Singles Match "Mr. Showtime" Michael Wryght (World ©) vs. Rick Majors Referee: Eddie Lane "Demons" begins to play as Rick Majors takes to the stage. Stoically, he looks forward towards the ring - paying very little mind to those around him as he does. The spotlight rests on Majors and with a quick flick of his wrists he begins to slowly make his way down the ramp, the spotlight remaining upon him as he does so. Reaching the ring, he stops for a moment. Majors briefly looks around before climbing the stairs and taking to the apron, he wipes his feet off before entering the ring - but that is when he is interrupted to the tune of "Gold on the Ceiling." The lighting drops and after a moment the spotlight returns to find Michael Wryght standing on the stage, with his back turned to the ring, and the World Heavyweight Title draped across his shoulder with the face plate hanging over the back of his shoulder. With a flick of his wrist, he kicks up the tail of his coat and turns around and begins his march down the ramp to beat of the theme. The smirk never fades, as he gazes upon Rick Majors and simply slaps the face plate of the belt, which he now holds in his right hand - hoisting it high in the air for all to see. As he reaches the stairs, he runs up them and quickly tosses his jacket and his belt to the time keeper before entering the ring. Eddie Lane quickly checks both men before calling for the bell. Majors and Wryght circle, and as they go in for the test of strength, Showtime steps in with a kick to the abdomen. Leaning down, he hooks in headlock and wrenches before transitioning to the back. With his arms wrapped around the waist of Majors, he quickly lifts the smaller Majors into the air and slams him down on to his stomach. Majors rolls through, and the two men are standing - Wryght maintains control of Majors’ waist. Majors lifts his right leg and stomps down on Showtime's right foot. Wryght withstands the blow, but Majors throws another one down and weakens Wryght’s positioning. Majors throws an elbow backwards, connecting with Showtime and forcing the break. Wryght stumbles away and turns into a swift kick to the abdomen from Majors. He follows it up with a low kick to Wryght's left thigh before stepping in and clipping him across the jaw with a knee. Showtime stumbles away but it his right arm is quickly pulled-in by Majors. Majors wrenches the arm before giving Showtime a stiff kick to the chest. Majors steps in and gives Wryght another kick to the chest. Majors wrenches again, and goes for a hook kick but Wryght ducks under it. Showtime quickly steps back, goes for a back kick, but Majors steps to the side and checks it. Majors steps forward, throws his right leg up, hook kick! He quickly goes for the cover. 1... Wryght kicks out. The two men are quick to their feet and Wryght takes control. He drags Majors to the center of the ring via headlock, and proceeds to stomp away at Major's right kneecap, while using the headlock to keep him standing. Wryght uses his size to stifle several before Majors pressed the duo into the ropes. Majors presses Wryght into the rope and uses the momentum to throw him off - but Wryght grabs Majors’ right arm. Pulling him in, Wryght goes for a quick spinning european uppercut but Majors avoids it. Wryght loses his balance from the momentum he put into the swing and his met with a hard roundhouse kick to his jaw, putting him on the mat hard. 1... Wryght kicks out! Majors begins to lead the offense, setting up Wryght with a barrage of kicks targeting his abdomen and upper thighs before closing the distance and attacking with elbows. Pushing the battle towards the ropes, he forces Wryght's back into them before unleashing an onslaught of kicks from his right leg right into the abdomen of Wryght. Showtime tries to cover up, but the rapid blows quickly start to take their toll. Referee Lane quickly steps in, forcing the break and as Majors steps back Wryght stumbles forward. Majors steps forward and goes for what looks to be a spinning back heel kick with the intended target of the back of Wryght's head, but Showtime ducks it - but Majors switches it up! Majors leg hit the ropes and he uses the bounce to throws his leg back towards Wryght - but Showtime catches - capture suplex and a pin attempt. 1... 2.... Majors kicks out, but Showtime quickly begins to beat on the fallen Majors with an onslaught of forearm smashes and soon stomps as he stands up. Majors stumbles to his feet only to be thrown into the ropes stomach first before stumbling back into a hard clothesline to the back of his neck. Not letting Majors fall, he spins him and pulls him into a short-arm clothesline before going for the pin attempt once more. 1.... 2..... Majors kicks out, but once again Wryght stays on the offense. He circles the fallen Majors, stomping away at open limbs before taking a hold of his right leg and stomping away at the knee. Majors tries to squirm away Wryght quickly pulls him and hooks his legs over into a cloverleaf. Majors struggles towards the ropes as Wryght leans back, and the crowd starts to get behind Majors, willing him forward in this struggle against the World Heavyweight Champion. Majors reaches the ropes but Wryght refuses to let go. 1... 2.... 3..... 4...... ........ Wryght releases the hold at five, but instantly leans down and grabs Majors leg - but Majors pops up. With one leg in hand, Wryght steps in for a takedown but is met with a STIFF knee to the face. Wryght falls to a knee as Majors steps back. He measures up the fallen champion and begins to hit kick after kick to the chest. The welts are forming as Majors kicks away, as Majors steps in for a last kick Wryght catches the leg and hits a quick dragon screw - but Majors rolls through. Stepping up, he quickly throws his leg into the air for the spinning back heel kick, but Wryght rolls out of the ring. Showtime shakes his head, wanting nothing to do with Majors as he makes his way up the ramp - but soon he stops dead in his tracks. Looking up the ramp, Justin Stormm is standing on the stage, BEGGING Showtime to keep walking. Wryght looks to Showtime, and then to the ring, before slowly deciding to return to the action. Majors slips beneath the bottom rope and meets Wryght on the outside, running in hitting a stiff elbow before putting down Wryght with a German Suplex. Stormm watches on for a moment before retreating through the curtains the match continues. Majors gets Wryght back into the ring and goes for another cover. 1.. 2... Showtime kicks out, and quickly stumbles to his feet. As Majors follows, Wryght steps in and hits forearm across the bridge of Major's nose, raking it against his eyes before stepping away. Eddie Lane steps into warn the champion, but Wryght will hear nothing of it. He steps in, hooking an arm, and quickly falls back and hits a single-arm DDT on Majors, before going for the pin attempt. 1.. 2... Majors kicks out, and the crowd couldn't be any happier. Wryght looks disgusted, before throwing several shots to the fallen Majors. Standing up, he begins to urge Majors to stand. He is slow to rise, but Wryght quickly pulls in Majors. He stuffs him down, and hooks his legs, looking to go for a fisherman suplex but Majors reverses. Hooking in his right arm into Wryght's, he quickly rotates him into a reverse double underhook but Wryght drops to the ground. Rolling out of the ring, he once again walks away. As he approaches the barrier, however, he's met with a grinning Justin Kaard. Showtime isn't having it this time, and quickly tries to hop the barrier - Justin Kaard blocks him. Showtime stumbles back as Kaard jumps the barrier and quickly redirects Wryght, tossing him into the ring to the waiting Majors. Wryght skitters to his feet only to get a stiff kick to the head followed by Majors pulling him. Hooking both of Showtime's arms, he lifts him vertically into the air before dropping him down on the top of his skull. He quickly covers the champion. 1... 2..... 3...... Lane quickly steps up, motioning for the bell but that's when he's interrupted. Skylar Marshall: Just hold on a second...The crowd erupts, showering Marshall with hatred as he walks through the curtains, microphone in hand and a look of grave seriousness across his face. Skylar Marshall: What are we paying you for? You saw that. The fans saw that. Justin Kaard put his hands on a competitor DURING a match that he isn't involved in.
Kaard is standing outside the ring, hands on his hips, mouthing something inaudible towards Skylar Marshall who simply waves him off and continues his conversation with Eddie Lane. Skylar Marshall: Now what you SHOULD do is award this match to the World Champion, Michael Wryght. He won it the moment Justin Kaard put his hands on him. But in the interest of fairness, as Majors had nothing to do with Justin Kaard's actions, we're goig to call this a draw!Eddie Lane looks on, and quickly approaches the ropes to talk to the ring announcer. Winner: Draw Via No ContestWryght slips out of the ring as Majors leans against the ropes, hands against his scalp, looking up at Skylar Marshall rather unsure of what to make of the situation, but clearly unhappy about it. Justin Kaard looks on at a slithering Michael Wryght stumbles to the announcer's table and gathers his things, clutching his jacket and the World Heavyweight title as he makes his exit from ringside. |
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Post by Murdoc on May 30, 2013 0:28:39 GMT -5
MAIN EVENT
Genesis Championship Match
Genesis Rules
Icemann Invitational Final 4
Non Compos Mentis (©) vs. Ace Anderson
Referee: Tyrone Little
Tuesday Trauma returns from a commercial break to find the Faithful bouncing in their seats in anticipation of the evening’s Main Event. With so much on the line and so much history between the two competitors, they’re certain of what could happen: just about anything. “Pain Redefined” begins its slow build toward assaulting their eardrums and they jump to their feet to welcome Ace Anderson as he appears at the top of the stage. The bursting blasts of pyrotechnics match the intensity moving through the crowd and pumping through the veins of the former Icemann Invitational winner, and he begins his slow march to the ring. Fans lining the ramp reach forward to be noticed, and a lucky few receive the high fives they had hoped for. Ace Anderson arrives at ringside, a bundle of will-power and adrenaline. He pauses, head bowed, allowing the roar of the crowd and the sonic insanity of Disturbed to heighten his resolve. He leaps, drawing his knees toward his chest, and lands two footed on the apron, shaking the ropes as more pyro shoots upward. He climbs through the ropes, getting loose, awaiting a man he knows much too well. “SCUM OF…THE EARTH… COME ON!”The heavy beat of drum and harsh guitar follow Rob Zombie’s voice as it pierces the PA. Images of the notorious ‘Born Psycho’ flash across the PCW-Tron. The PCW Faithful waits with no lack of vocal attacks for the man himself to arrive, but he holds back until the voice erupts once more. “YEAH! RUN AND KILL, DESTROY THE WILL, A HERO THAT DOESN’T EXIST! YEAH! SMOKING GUN, WELL I AM THE ONE, A BULLET HOLE IN YOUR FIST! YEAH!”Non Compos Mentis appears the stage as boos rain down from all angles, but he seems to drink in their acidic intent; for, at last, they show him how they really feel. Non Compos Mentis maintains a sadistic grin, holding his arms out in a cross, the Genesis Title over his right shoulder, welcoming the hateful shouts all around him. Revelling in the chaos he begins to make his way down to the ring, striding down the ramp with confidence and purpose as the refrain hits. “I’M BREATHING! I’M BLEEDING! I’M SCREAMING! SCUM OF… THE EARTH… COME ON!”He reaches the ring and hops onto the apron as the second refrain smashes through the sound system, raising his arm into the air to infuriate the fans further, still grinning. As his arm lifts, the crowd begins to ripple, and then to part, as a group of men force their way through the sea of Faithful toward the ringside barricade. This group of vagrants is, of course, the Hobo Horde, eyes shifting between their fearless leader and their prey inside the ring. Immediately Ace Anderson approaches Tyrone Little, speaking something inaudible into his ear. “I’M BREATHING! I’M BLEEDING! I’M SCREAMING! SCUM OF… THE EARTH… COME ON!”The powerful, frenzied beat goes on as NCM climbs into the ring and sends an evil look toward Tyrone Little before removing his tattered denim jacket and handing it over, along with his Genesis title. He retreats to his corner, glaring at Ace Anderson, hands raised as he kneels down as if summoning the Horde to his side. Tyrone Little, however, has other plans. He crosses the ring to speak to Mentis, all the while signaling toward the stage. PCA Security emerges from behind the curtain with “Double D” Domino D’Angelo at its head. Non Compos Mentis knows what’s happening and vehemently protests, but to no avail. The security team, somehow, gathers the Horde and escorts them away from ringside as Tyrone Little has Mark Long announce: “The referee has determined that if any non-roster individual interferes in the match-up, it will result in the immediate disqualification of Non Compos Mentis!”The pop of the crowd is deafening, realizing that Ace Anderson will get a fair fight on Non Compos Mentis’s front. A few Faithful still jeer, realizing the announcement does not guarantee Marshall’s Law (or Whitey Ford in particular) will stay away from ringside. The crowd settles a bit, though still fervent, as Tyrone Little calls for the men to meet in the center of the ring. Ace Anderson steps forward, eyes locked on his opponent. Non Compos Mentis does the same. They begin to circle and stalk, sizing each other up after not meeting in the ring for so long. Finally, the bell rings and the match is underway. They continue to circle, and suddenly Ace Anderson shoots a feint toward Non Compos Mentis, causing him to take a step back. Mentis fires back with a feint of his own, and Anderson follows suit. The circling goes on until Ace Anderson beckons to the crowd and steps toward the middle of the ring, hands up, offering his opponent the test of strength. The crowd begins to clap as Mentis obliges, meeting Anderson, arms up, in the center. The moment their hands meet, however, Mentis shoots a kick to Anderson’s gut. The big man doubles over and Mentis slaps him, hard, across the face, then brings him down with an even harder clothesline. The clapping immediately shifts to boos and jeers, and Mentis unloads a series of stomps on the downed Ace Anderson. Anderson shifts position until he can grab the anchored leg of Non Compos Mentis. He throws Mentis off balance, bringing him to the mat face down, and drops a knee on the back of Mentis’s exposed quadricep. He maintains his grip, climbs quickly to his feet, and hoists Mentis up by the leg, slamming his knee hard into the mat. Twice more he does this before flipping Mentis over, dropping an elbow across his chest, and covering him up for a count. Mentis kicks out before one, so Ace Anderson brings both men vertical and attempts an arm wrench. Mentis fights off the pain and drives forward, backing Ace Anderson into the corner. Anderson tries to shift position but Mentis plants two firm knees to his midsection, breaking his grip and seizing the momentum. Following a stiff straight left and a hooking right, Anderson is stunned in the corner. Mentis grabs hold, drawing his weight backward and whipping Anderson across the ring to the other corner. He follows up quickly, lunging forward with a running knee strike. With Anderson winded, Mentis mounts the turnbuckle and delivers closed-fisted shots to the top of Anderson’s forehead and skull, the crowd counting each shot with poisoned lips along with Tyrone Little. He reaches five...six...seven...eight...nine... and Anderson launches him out of the corner, flat onto his back! He shakes his daze as Mentis regains his feet, stumbling out to meet the Born Psycho in the middle of the ring once more. Mentis runs forward as Anderson does the same, and Mentis is left on his back as he runs into a brick-wall shoulderblock. Non Compos Mentis whirls, grounded, as Ace Anderson hits the ropes ramp-side. Standing back-to, Mentis is taken down once more by a chop-block. He’s down long enough for Anderson to cinch a step-over leg lock, continuing to punish Mentis’s lower half. With the hold wrenched firm, he looks up at the PCW-tron, displaying the countdown clock for this Genesis Rules match-up. Ten minutes remain. Realizing he needs to cause more significant damage, he willingly breaks the hold and lifts Mentis to his feet. He pulls Mentis in close quick, floating him over with an impactful belly-to-belly suplex and making another pinfall attempt. This time he makes it past one, yet nowhere near two, as Mentis resists and kicks out once more. With his opponent slightly hurt and somewhat winded, he picks him up to set up a slam. Anderson locks in a full-nelson and looks to slam Mentis out of it, but Mentis responds by wresting himself free, shooting a couple of blatant elbows to Anderson’s face, and then take him down with a Russian Leg Sweep! Anderson’s head connects hard with the mat and Mentis himself covers, getting a one count before Anderson gets his shoulder up. Mentis responds to the kick-out with a flurry of elbow drops before mounting Ace Anderson and delivering another series of vicious closed-fisted shots. Tyrone Little counts them up and calls him off, warning him that he will lose the title along with the match if he’s disqualified. This seems to rein in the Born Psycho, but only slightly, as he breaks his mount but stomps, hard, on Anderson’s forehead out of spite. Anderson rolls away, clutching his skull, as Mentis shouts and spits at the fans who vigorously voice their displeasure with his tactics. Lifting Anderson to his feet, Mentis hauls him closer to the center of the ring, delivers another stiff elbow to his cranium, and then sets him up for a DDT. He catches the clock out of the corner of his eye, now nearing the five minute mark. He attempts to drop his weight and crash Anderson’s head into the mat, but Anderson plants his feet, resists both Non Compos Mentis and the force of gravity, and somehow hauls Mentis overhead with a bridging Northern Lights Suplex! One! Two! Mentis kicks out at this point and Ace Anderson breaks away, rolling off the side of the ring, probably still seeing stars after so many shots to his brain meat. He hoists himself up by the ropes, losing Mentis’s location in his semi-stunned state. That is, until Non Compos Mentis launches both men over the top with a devastating lariat! They hit the floor, hard, and the crowd sends a combination of cheers and jeers at the action and at the Born Psycho respectively. Mentis, the less damaged of the two, is first to his feet, and he makes Ace Anderson pay for it. He begins by launching Anderson into the ring steps with a hard Irish Whip, hard enough to bring Mentis to the ground, but Ace Anderson takes heavy damage as he catches his thighs on the metal steps and flips, ass over teakettle. Mentis stalks around the ring, seizing Anderson by the base of his neck and slamming him face-first off the ring apron. Anderson grabs at his face, stumbling back, and Mentis clotheslines him over the barricade and into the crowd! Had the Hobo Horde not been escorted from ringside, Ace Anderson surely would have been in no-man’s land. Instead it is Non Compos Mentis who finds himself in hostile territory as he leaps the barricade to continue his assault. The crowd parts to make way for the Superstars, but the surrounding swarm launches spittle, cups (some half-empty) and popcorn at the Born Psycho, causing him to lash out and the Faithful to duck and cover. With under three minutes remaining and the fall required to occur inside the ring, Non Compos Mentis hoists up Ace Anderson and dumps him back over the barricade as he finds no friends among the fans. Dragging Anderson toward the ring once more, he again looks to bounce Anderson’s face off the apron. He does so once... twice... and Anderson blocks the third! Palms firmly planted against the apron, Anderson shoots out two elbows, turns, and brings Non Compos Mentis down with a desperation lariat. He slowly climbs to his feet, this time ahead of the Born Psycho, which causes the Faithful to erupt! The fanfare incites a second wind as he beats his chest, gives himself a few quick pounds to the forehead for good measure, and then helps Non Compos Mentis rise to his feet. In an uncharacteristic motion, he plants Non Compos Mentis with a big-fisted haymaker! He catches Mentis by the arm to stop him reeling and lines up another heavy shot! The desperation brawling starts to pay off as Mentis stumbles away, Ace Anderson now hot on his heels. Anderson catches him up, grabs him behind the head, and launches him face first into the ringpost! The impact rings out and the fans unite in cheer as Anderson looks up at the clock once more. Thirty seconds to go. He rolls Non Compos Mentis into the ring, following close behind, and delivers a knee drop to the leg of the downed Mentis. He seizes Mentis by the legs, flips him over, and cinches in a Boston Crab! The clock is counting down, Non Compos Mentis is in the center of the ring, and Ace Anderson is sitting deep on his back, wrenching on his legs, apparently trying to pull the Born Psycho apart. The bell rings! Ace Anderson releases the hold, jumps away from Non Compos Mentis, falls to his knees, and begins to celebrate. Tyrone Little approaches him and Ace assumes it’s to raise his hand. He holds it out, but Tyrone Little begins to explain... the time limit had expired. In disbelief, Ace Anderson raises his hands to his head and drops down in a corner as Non Compos Mentis retreats to the corner opposite. Someone approaches ringside, holds a momentary discussion with Tyrone Little, who then turns around and calls for the bell! OVERTIME! The Faithful erupt to a point not often seen inside the Pure Class Arena, the intensity boiling up like trapped steam in a covered pot. Somehow both Ace Anderson and Non Compos Mentis will themselves to their feet, ready for anything but severely damaged. YAKUZA KICK!?!? Before Ace Anderson can blink, Non Compos Mentis flies forward, lifting his right boot and connecting squarely, dropping Ace Anderson like a bag of dicks... err, bricks. He flops overtop and signals for Tyrone Little to ‘ count, damnit, count!’ Little obliges, quick on the uptake, and begins to slap the mat. One! ... Two! ... ... ... KICK OUT! Non Compos Mentis can’t believe it! He buries his hands deep in his wild hair, and in his fervor he slams Ace Anderson’s shoulders back down. ‘Count!’ Little, immediately, restarts the count. One! ... Two! ... Ace Anderson kicks out again! Disgruntled but accepting, Non Compos Mentis lifts up Ace Anderson, contemplating how to keep the big man down. Planting a kick swift to Anderson’s gut, who doubles over, Mentis drives the point of his elbow into Anderson’s shoulder, dropping him further. He places Anderson’s head between his legs, hooking his arms, looking to finish him off with the Fractured Mind! But Ace Anderson stands straight up! Shouting in sheer determination, the fans matching his pitch, he looks to drive Non Compos Mentis head-first into the mat. But Mentis drops down and rolls through in a heavyweight’s version of the sunset flip! Mentis pins! One! Two! Kickout again! With the adrenaline flowing high, the two men stand and trade shots back and forth, digging deep to scrap tooth-and-nail, fist-to-face. A stiff jab from NCM! Ace Anderson responds! NCM delivers an elbow across Anderson’s face! Ace Anderson responds with an open-palmed slap across the chest. They transition into a series of knife-edged chops, the crowd shifting between ‘Yay!’ and ‘ Nay!’ as they chop in desperate succession. A European uppercut by Ace Anderson. A heavy knee by Non Compos Mentis. A kick to the gut from Ace Anderson. And then, without hesitation or sign of expectation, the Exemplifier! Non Compos Mentis is down. Ace Anderson covers. One! ... Two! ... ... Non Compos Mentis kicks out! Ace Anderson can’t believe it, but can’t afford to waste time. He picks up Mentis, exhausted and dazed, and hoists him up in a Gorilla Press! He makes to slam him but Mentis dislodges himself, his feet hit the mat, and he connects with a swinging neckbreaker! He can’t maintain control, however, as both men roll away from each other. Non Compos Mentis is first to his feet, and he uses this time to get in position. Ace Anderson stands and turns to find Non Compos Mentis waiting. He twirls, aiming Blunt Trauma at Ace Anderson’s face, hoping for lights out! Ace Anderson ducks! Non Compos Mentis’s spinning back fist flies just inches above Ace Anderson’s head, who capitalizes on Mentis’s momentary lack of balance. As Mentis continues to twirl, Ace Anderson traps both of the Born Psycho’s arms. Trapping headbutts! Ace Anderson connects with two, three, four headbutts square in the face of Non Compos Mentis. He whips him into the corner, and follows it up with a leaping splash! Both men stumble out of the corner, Mentis struggling to keep his feet, as he’s launched once more across the ring. Another splash! As they fall out of the corner this time, Ace Anderson reaches down, trapping the leg of Non Compos Mentis in a capture position. He squeezes, squeezes, squeezes the air out of Non Compos Mentis, Mentis’s own knee acting as a winch between his air supply and his opponent. Finally Ace Anderson lifts him up and connects with a devastating capture powerslam! The Tilt succeeds! Ace Anderson covers Non Compos Mentis and Tyrone Little drops to make the count. One! ... Two! ... ... Three! Winner: Ace Anderson via pinfallAce Anderson can’t believe it, but as Tyrone Little hands him the Genesis Championship and “ Pain Redefined” begins to play, the weight of his victory sinks in. He drops to his knees, holding the belt in a tight hug against his chest. He rolls out of the ring and directly to the barricade, high-fiving fans all along the way. As Ace Anderson celebrates with the fans and makes his way up the ramp, the feed cuts to show Kelli Starr standing backstage, eyes intent on the monitor which displayed the Main Event. At the conclusive result, she turns away from the monitor, a curious look upon her face, and the feed fades to black. -- CLICK! --
Justin Kaard def. Whitey Ford via pinfall
Gabriel Cross def. Anson via pinfall
Kelli Starr def. Grimm via referee stoppage
Justin Michaels v. the New Breed Foundation is declared a no-contest
Q def. Dillon Durst via pinfal
Andy D/Tyler Scott def. The Flying Freebooters via pinfall
Michael Wryght v. Rick Majors is declared a no-contest
Ace Anderson def. Non Compos Mentis
Great turnout peeps! Excellent RP's this cycle and, of course, I have to thank Drew/Tom/Chris/Kris for all their help this week. You saved my butt. Living a Legacy V is the next card, let's turn up the heat even higher than it already is GET FUCKING EXCITED! Also: CAPSLOCK! |
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