Post by Rick Majors on Jul 6, 2018 21:52:55 GMT -5
Pure Class Wrestling Trauma
Thursday, July 5th, 2018
Jerry Andrews: Welcome to another HUGE episode of PCW Trauma! I'm Jerry Andrews, and I hope you had an amazing Fourth of July!
Ace Anderson: And I'm Ace Anderson, and I could eat 75 hot dogs in one sitting if I wanted to.
Jerry Andrews: ....
Ace Anderson: You know, like in the contest....
Jerry Andrews: ....
Ace Anderson: ... you know, Joey Chestnut....
Jerry Andrews: ...
Ace Anderson: ...
Jerry Andrews: ...
Ace Anderson: ... let's go down to ringside for our first match.
Before we go down to ringside, we see a video of an oily-skinned muscular man flexing and gyrating his head in a suggestive manner to Jon LaJoie’s “Show Me Your Genitals.” On the entrance ramp, this same chiseled individual is cavorting along the entrance ramp, eying up virtually every single female of legal age in the front few rows, showing off his physique as if hoping for one sex-crazed fan might succumb to testosterone and endorphins and leap over the barricade to jump all over him. It doesn’t happen. The fans seem a little uncertain of this seemingly random performer’s behavior.
Sasha Greene: Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome; from Toronto, Canada, weighing in at 238lbs… MUSCLES MALONE!
Muscles eyes the ring in which Sasha is stood. He runs by shuffling his feet up the steel ring steps before hopping over the top rope to show off his agility. He flexes his biceps to the fans one more time, who do not provide much in terms of admiration. He looks across to Sasha Greene and puffs out his shoulders, strutting like a cockerel with full plumage on display. He motions with his tongue. As usual, Sasha recoils.
Lights dim and the PCW-Tron goes black. With the sound of a sharp nib scratching across a ragged sheet of parchment, a sepia-toned cursive scrawls grimm across the screen. The name flickers, wavering in and out of focus with the occasional tracking glitch as if projected from an old forgotten film canister uncovered on the bottom shelf in the cellar. Sparse percussion resonates throughout the arena and is soon joined by a droning, distorted bass line. At that, A Perfect Circle’s ”Counting Bodies Like Sheep to the Rhythm of the War Drums” stomps out of the speakers and marches through the aisles. The drums, the distortion, the voices – all work to herald the arrival of the Hangtown Horror.
Sasha Greene: And his opponent. From Hangtown, Kentucky. He weighs 219lbs, GRIMM!
Don’t fret, precious, I’m here. Step away from the window.
He walks out to a single blue-white spotlight, stops to bask in the light and shadows, and scans the crowd. The Lord of Misrule closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before making the long walk down the ramp, deadset on the ring and ignoring the fans along the way. The spotlight follows. The words work their way up through the layers of the song.
Go back to sleep.
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. Grimm then drops down. And waits.
Singles Match
Muscles Malone vs Grimm
Referee: Charles Lim
Muscles Malone vs Grimm
Referee: Charles Lim
DING!
DING!
DING!
The narcissistic pageantry is in full regale as the returning Muscles Malone is far more interested in showing off his physique to the ladies (and maybe even a few gay men) in attendance. Malone has next to no time for one of the most feared and legendary men to step foot inside of PCW ring. With a million dollar grin to match a million dollar body (real or fake, you decide), Malone cranks his arm until his right bicep is flexing. He admires what he sees before being ‘distracted’ by a competing left arm. The bicep is shown off in all its splendor. Malone looks back and forth at them before going into some stoic poses like he were in a competition or a Gold’s Gym somewhere.
Grimm remains his same cold, calculating, emotionally neutral self. Deep down he’s not impressed, but don’t ever expect him to show you that. It’s Grimm. Malone makes the mistake of showboating a little too close. Grimm puts him on his ass with a nasty headbutt. He then launches his boot into the puckered kisser of Malone at full strength, possibly rearranging some of those pearly whites. Grimm assists him to him up and has a place with his name written all over it: the top turnbuckle. Not satisfied with just one, Malone is introduced into the second, the third, and the fourth. In some circles Malone may call that an orgy, but not here in the Pure Class Arena. Malone is left concealing his face following the final impact.
Malone is sent careening into a corner. A flurry of fists break his ribs up. Flashes of boot stomping kneed his midsection like bread dough. Malone is driven into a seated position. Grimm doesn’t relent, instead choosing to throw hands into his face. The referee is the only saving grace for Muscles Malone. Grimm locks his pale blues on him, forcing an uneasy backing away, but otherwise Grimm abides. Malone is in a heap when Phinehas retrieves him. Malone reverses an Irish whip! Grimm plunks off the buckles and is driven right back with a running spear. Malone locks him up and takes him over with a belly-to-belly suplex!
Jerry Andrews: Grimm was well on his way to making this an early night for himself. But the love child of Ron Jeremy and Stormy Daniels had a pair of surprise moves to contribute!
Ace Anderson: ...what an awful creation to call someone the love child of. Malone may be more brawn than brain, but he is capable of hitting some high impact moves.
Rather than follow the attack on Grimm, Malone takes a powder outside of the ring. He’s spotted some front row foxes who he believes can give him some TLC. The college age co-eds want no part of him and his pained posing. Muscles pleads his case, making sure to allow them to get as close as they want, while sexually suggesting something about buns and a hot dog. The loud booing of his narcissism is met with resistance. The moment the ladies tell him to turn around, Grimm is there to slam his forehead into his face once more. Malone snaps backwards against the rail, drawing giggles from the very females who refused his advances. Grimm sends him front first into the steel steps. Malone doubles right over. Grimm picks his spot, spearing him right through those steps as they break apart from one another. Malone is whipped back into the ring. Grimm drags his head back under the rope, following with a running knee to the back of his head. He re-enters and scores a pin.
1!
2!
Malone miraculously PRESSES Grimm off just before three. Should’ve stayed down, kid. Grimm picks Malone up only to shove him against the ropes. Malone bounces into a savate kick. He falls against the ropes, only to lean into a samoan drop! Muscles is down and in some serious pain, but even in such a state, finds time to admire himself. How, is anyone’s guess. Grimm throws him to the nearest corner. Malone somehow grapples Grimm right out of there. The Hangtown Horror is sent flying by his beard across the ring! It’s crude, but it works. Malone doesn’t rush in to follow it up with anything. Except a taunt. But he does score a clothesline following that! And then Double Underhook Facebuster! Malone frantically hooks the legs while rolling back for added leverage.
1!
2!
Kickout!
Grimm takes some jabs, but is able to catch one. Malone is force fed his own knuckles. The lowering of his head gives Grimm an opening. LAMENT CONFIGURATION!
Jerry Anderson: Grimm just buried poor Muscles Malone with that one!
Ace Anderson: And that was WITHOUT his signature shovel. Imagine the kind of burying he’d do if he had that with him…
Grimm pops his entire spine. The sickening release of pressure is a sound that will be heard in nightmares tonight. Malone is yanked by the seam of his pants. The pull is so forceful that they COME OFF! Malone is wearing a hot pink man-thong. Laughter fills the crowd. Grimm eyes the loose article of clothing with the same cold, callous stare he would any opponent or unfortunate soul who gets involved his his business. The pants are thrown out of the ring without a second thought. Malone drags himself to his feet. He looks to see his state of undress...and thinks HE HAS THE MATCH WON! It’s like everything that Grimm punished him with has evaporated. Muscles Malone prances in place. Malone spins around onto a knee and goes for The Pantie Shot...only...his uppercut hits air.
He slowly realizes this as Grimm steps into view. Malone looks up to see a thundering crimson mane flash before his eyes. DEAD RECKONING! The headbutts go two, four, six, eight, ten before the onslaught ends. Malone is flat out on his back like someone that has been tossed out of the strip club for being frisky with the girls. Grimm mounts a turnbuckle. He waits. And waits. And waits. Eventually Malone works up enough strength to stand. He staggers In the wrong direction…
Jerry Anderson: The Harvest!!
Grimm has scored with his tornado DDT finisher and has floated over into a pin.
1!
2!
3!
The bell is called for as A Perfect Circle serenades the crowd once again.
Sasha Greene: Here is the winner, Grimm!
Phinehas departs the ring after having his arm raised, leaving Muscles Malone to figure out who he is and why he is flat on his back, without a woman around who found his sleaze charming.
Coming back from a commercial break, TRIVIUM’s cover of “Losing My Religion” begins to play over the speaker system. Out comes Horacio Mortimer, once again armed with a microphone and dressed sharply in a formal navy blue suit, Horacio Mortimer adjusts his spectacles as he gazes out to the crowd. The music fades. Immediately, Horacio begins to speak.
Horacio Mortimer: “Greetings, friends. My name is Horacio Mortimer…”
The crowd obligatorily speak his name in unison.
Horacio Mortimer: “…and we live in a world where anarchy is allowed to roam freely amongst us. We live in a world where even the thought of terror prevents us from looking for heroes. We are a society that sleeps with one eye open, constantly looking over our shoulders and holding everything we hold dear as close as possible under the ruse that it could be taken at any moment. Why should you live in fear? Time waits for no man. Instead, the world watches the arrogant, the successful, the cheaters and the fat cats do as they please, accepting their fate. Maybe that is why you are so tolerant of a man like Johnny Matthews…”
The crowd cheers at the mention of Matthews’ name.
Horacio Mortimer: “You applaud Johnny Matthews because you love nothing more than seeing the powerful fall. It is typical ‘underdog syndrome;’ a mere sympathy vote towards a man who cannot reach the same dizzying heights as somebody as prolific and outright DOMINANT as the reigning Underground King. Johnny Matthew, along with each and every one of you, are jealous that The Zenith is so much better than even the perfected images of yourselves that you conjure in your dreams. Instead, you relate to a man with an IQ as low as the rest of you.”
Insulted, the crowd throws a torrent of jeers and boos in the direction of Horacio Mortimer, who is undeterred by their negativity.
Horacio Mortimer: “And that’s precisely what Matthews expects; the adulation and awe that is reminiscent of the crowd gathered to watch their superhero do battle with his most imposing villain. Humanity is cruel to those that climb above modern conventions. It has happened since the days of yore. Gifted young women would be branded as witches. Entrepreneurs would have their plans sabotaged by their rivals. Even in the modern day, anybody who does something that is deemed ‘not normal’ is cast aside by society. But rather than mope around with our heads in our hands, those that have been shunned continue to work in solitude, honing their craft until the time is right to unleash their creation upon the world. That is why The Chronological Order and The Black Hand have risen from the depths, bigger and stronger than ever before!”
A chant of “SHUT YOUR MOUTH! SHUT YOUR MOUTH! SHUT YOUR MOUTH” has broken out. Horacio raises his voice in a bid to make himself heard over these deafening chants from the crowd. All the while, he remains calm and composed, not once producing a snarl or sneer in any capacity.
Horacio Mortimer: “Thank you for proving my point. You are all nothing but sheep that conform to the news that the media WANTS you to know. None of you know the true extent of what goes on in the world… but WE do. Our eyes are always open. We are always watching, biding our time, for time is as bountiful as the air that we breathe. We are The Chronological Order. We are The Black Hand. We are Everywhere…”
He unleashes a wide grin, ready to deliver the verbal deathblow.
Horacio Mortimer: “And at Return To Glory, my client; the reigning Underground King, the man who SHOULD still remain undefeated, The Zenith himself will make Johnny Matthews rue the day that he chose to provoke us. We will send him packing back to Lonestar Championship Wrestling… where, even there, he is not safe…
Horacio Mortimer begins to laugh out of superiority towards the crowd. They hurl torrents of abuse towards the founder of The Chronological Order in the form of boos and jeers. Their distain soon turns to ecstasy as someone rushes onto the stage wielding some form of weapon…
…striking Horacio Mortimer right in his back!
IT’S JOHNNY MATTHEWS!
The crowd roars as the steel chair impacts Horacio Mortimer’s spine! Horacio screams in agony as he drops onto the entrance ramp. Matthews quickly disarms himself of the chair and mounts Mortimer before he begins to deliver a flurry of punches his head and face that Mortimer tries to deflect to the best of his ability. Matthews is absolutely relentless as he drags Mortimer’s arm away, trapping it under his knee and subdues the other with one hand, before winding back and delivering some hard shots right to the face. Blood erupts from Horacio Mortimer’s nose, spattering against Matthews’ shirt. The crowd winces at this sight.
Ace Anderson: OUCH!
Jerry Andrews: Mortimer’s nose is broken! And Johnny Matthews is showing no sign of letting up!
Johnny Matthews throttles Mortimer with a couple more shots before looking at his blood-red knuckles. He wipes them on Horacio’s pristine navy blue suit before grabbing his arm and ripping the wristwatch that he wears over his wrist. As dazed and weary as Mortimer is, Horacio begs for Johnny Matthews as if he is pleading for his very own life. Johnny Matthews simply smiles as he places the timepiece beside his head… before proceeding to stamp on the watch with all his might, shattering it into pieces! Horacio lets out a scream of anguish, as if the stomp had connected with him, like a dagger through the heart. Matthews simply grins as he hauls Horacio up to his feet and leads him back up the entrance ramp, throwing him into the set! Mortimer clatters to the ground before Matthews stares out to the crowd, who eagerly egg him on.
Matthews picks up Mortimer once again, this time leading him towards the edge of the stage. Those who tuned in to LCW’s Wild Card event will know that Dominator proceeded to lead Matthews here with the intention of causing unfathomable harm. Matthews holds Mortimer in place, before kicking him in the gut and thrusting his head between his legs. The crowd roars. Matthews takes a moment to pull a cigarette out of his pocket and lights it, blowing a cloud of smoke into the air and holding the cigarette between his lips…
He hoists Horacio Mortimer up… and sends him FLYING OFF THE STAGE WITH A RELEASE POWERBOMB, STRAIGHT THROUGH THE TABLES OF ELECTRICAL EQUIPMENT BELOW! Matthews punches the air in ecstasy as the crowd are going wild. Matthews takes a long toke of his cigarette before looking over the edge of the stage. Horacio is laying in a mangled position amidst the wiring and splinters of wood. Satisfied, Matthews takes one final drag before flicking the butt directly at Mortimer. He turns to walk away, only to see DOMINATOR barrelling right at him. Instinctively, Matthews drops down safely off the side of the stage before sprinting as far out of harm’s way as he can. Dominator pursues only a short distance, only to stop, drawn back by the motionless Horacio Mortimer. Dominator begins to throw debris out of the way like a dog digs dirt to find the bone it had hidden in the ground.
Jerry Andrews: What an unprecedented assault from Johnny Matthews!
Paramedics try to push past Dominator, but The Zenith guards Mortimer, untrusting of the medics’ capabilities. The medics plead with Dominator to let them pass. He looks back at the motionless Mortimer one final time before finally relenting. He looks distraught, running his hands across his face as the medics slowly slip past him. Dominator begins pacing, growing increasing more enraged with every passing second. The camera shows a shot of the mutilated Mortimer, the screen turns black and white to hide the severity of his injuries.
Jerry Andrews: He’s hurt! He’s hurt BAD!
Ace Anderson: Johnny Matthews may have taken Horacio Mortimer out of the equation ahead of his Last Man Standing Match with Dominator at Return to Glory IX. With his manager out of commission, Dominator has suffered a REAL blow here tonight. Brilliant tactic by Matthews!
Jerry Andrews: I can’t say I condone it, but you can’t say that Horacio Mortimer didn’t have it coming!
Horacio Mortimer has been loaded onto a stretcher. He hasn’t moved since taking that Powerbomb off the stage. The medical team begin to wheel him to the backstage area with Dominator walking right alongside. As Horacio Mortimer is loaded into the back of the ambulance, Dominator plants his foot on the back of the ambulance and places his hand near one of the door’s hinges, attempting to embark alongside his manager and close friend. The paramedics inform him that they must leave immediately. They close the doors on Dominator before pulling away.
He begins to pace once again, running his hands through his hair before letting out a deafening roar before grabbing a nearby crate with both hands. He lifts it high above his head before slamming it down forcefully onto the nearest car bonnet.
Ace Anderson: Oh no! This is NOT good!
Jerry Andrews: Dominator has LOST IT!
Dominator grabs a nearby trash can and launches it through the air like a missile; a stream of garbage is strewn in place of a vapour trail. He turns to a nearby vehicle, pounding the metal door with his fist, creating a large dent in the metalwork. A group of officials surround Dominator, pleading for The Zenith to calm himself down. He lets out a roar of anger, grabbing two of the men in chokeholds before lifting them up in the air and planting them with a Double Chokeslam onto the concrete of the parking lot. He turns to another who was not fast enough to escape his wrath. He grabs him by the throat as well, but instead of planting him there and then, he mounts the car that he has damaged, ascending to the roof and stamping angrily on it, causing further damage. He lifts the official with one arm… holding him there… but he lowers him back onto his feet upon catching sight of someone…
Grimm just stands there. Silently. Just watching.
Dominator catches sight of Grimm, glaring at him with his eyes still consumed with rage. Grimm’s gorgon-like death-stare causes Dominator to slow his movements. He lets the official go, who quickly scarpers to safety.
Grimm: “That’s quite enough.”
Without any protest, Dominator simply takes a deep, long breath and closes his eyes. A moment of silence passes before The Zenith opens his eyes and simply nods at Grimm. The two walk away, side by side with work to be done.
Jerry Andrews: What just happened!? How on Earth did Grimm soothe the savage beast?
Ace Anderson: Whatever he did, he’s probably just saved some insurance companies from an even bigger payout!
Jerry Andrews: You’ve got to wonder how key a role Grimm will play to Dominator’s mental state now that his manager Horacio Mortimer has been removed from the equation, especially with Johnny Matthews continuing to make The Underground King’s life a living hell!
"I'm from a planet both in and out of space...."
...A piano begins to play...
"I am that weeping joy you feel when you accomplish something difficult...on your own..."
Bright lights flash. Thunder rolls. And lightening strikes at the top of the stage, for a second you catch a glimpse of a masked figure. With another flash it's gone.
"...However I am also that pit of despair that someone feels when they do bad and are about to get caught...a sinking feeling of strong justice like PURE joy! Those of unjust motives beware!"
The music suddenly picks up and from above the ring a man is slowly lowering from above. His arms stretched out palms up, masked head looking down, and his legs together as if he was concentrating on lowering himself.
"I AM MISTER PURE! THE HERO OF THE MASSES!"
Another flash of blinding light and smoke! Mr Pure is now standing in the ring when the smoke settles. His arms crossed looking down. Smoke! A flash! Mr Pure is standing on the ring post balanced perfectly with his arms above his head small traces of lightening erupting from the palms of his hands! He lands a back flip nimbly on his feet pacing his corner. He requested a microphone taking a noble stature in the center of the ring.
Mr. PURE!: "Greetings again humans of planet Earth! I must admit for the first couple of days here I seriously doubted a few things, but I slowly began to feel the vibe of how things are here and I've never been clearer that this place holds a true PURE POWER especially within the hearts of those I've met back there!"
Mr Pure pointed to the back very overly dramatic.
Mr. PURE!: "...But."
His tone suddenly changed to a more serious note, and he was now very tense with his free hand bawled into a tight fist.
Mr. PURE!: "I have my challenge and mission here very clear too. As a heir to the throne on my planet I must test myself in combat to other warriors and I have to be THE VERY BEST there or here! I am telling everyone now that I, Mister PURE!, am coming to BE NUMBER ONE IN PURE CLASS WRESTLING! FROM TONIGHT TO FOREVER I WILL ALWAYS BRING MY BEST BE IT FRIEND OR FOE!"
Mr Pure was clearly shaking with adrenaline and his voice was deep but loud. He just stood a few seconds shaking before he spoke again.
Mr. PURE!: "I must apologize for my erratic behavior but a fierce passion burns through me and I am ready.."
He points now to the back.
Mr. PURE!: "SO TO THE WARRIOR WHO ACCEPTED MY CHALLENGE COME FACE ME....
FACE MISTER PURE!!"[/font]
The lights go out. There is a long pause. Suddenly the arena is completely lit up with white light as the opening notes of "There's a World" by Neil Young play. Gabriel emerges, wearing a tan button up shirt, brown overalls and heavy dark boots. He clasps his hands together and smiles widely before walking down to the ring.
"There's a world you're living in
No one else has your part
All God's children in the wind
Take it in and blow hard.
Look around it, have you found it
Walking down the avenue?
See what it brings,
could be good things
In the air for you.."
Gabriel climbs the ring steps and pauses. He then enters the ring, and grabs a microphone.
Gabriel: You think you understand purity? You think you know anything about heroic behaviour!? I WAS SAVED BY THE GREAT.....
The crowd starts to drown Gabriel's tired old speech out with boos.
Gabriel: ... I WAS SAVED BY....
More boos.
Gabriel: I SAID: I WAS SAVED BY THE GREAT SEROMINE AND ONLY HE.....
The boos keep getting louder.
Gabriel: ... AND ONLY HE CAN JUDGE PURITY AND GOODNESS!!!!
It is obvious that no one is in the mood to hear Gabriel preach. He angrily drops the microphone and gets ready for the match.
Singles Match
Mr. PURE vs {A Mystery Opponent}
Referee: Nigel Gale
Mr. PURE vs {A Mystery Opponent}
Referee: Nigel Gale
Jerry Andrews: Well, this is certainly an interesting match-up here. The newcomer Mr. Pure facing off against Gabriel.
Ace Anderson: Gabriel has had a rough time recently, fighting to a draw with Gerard Angelo on our last show and - most importantly for him - having some serious troubles with his lord and savior.
Jerry Andrews: That's certainly true, but don't forget that he's a multi-time champion, winning the North American and Underground Titles quite recently, not to mention being the runner up in the Icemann Invitational Tournament AND the Deadly Rumble.
Ace Anderson: You mean LOSING the Icemann Invitational Tournament and the Deadly Rumble.
The bell rings. The bell sounds as Mr. PURE and Gabriel circle around the ring several times, trying to feel each other out. Gabriel sets in for a lock however Mr. PURE is able to dodge. Mr. PURE pauses as he scans through the arena then turns his gaze back to Gabriel. PURE hits a roundhouse kick to the midsection. Gabriel staggers back in pain. Mr. PURE follows Gabriel and begins to explode away with a series of swift kicks. Gabriel drops down on one knee. Mr. PURE stands over his body and raises his arms in the air.
Jerry Andrews: Mr. PURE..... I'm not sure what to make of this guy.
Ace Anderson: He's.... interesting.
Gabriel slowly gets to his feet as Mr. PURE continues to punish him with a series of hand strikes. Pulling him in, Mr. PURE applies a side headlock as Gabriel leans back on the ropes and pushes with all his might as Mr. PURE bounces off the ropes. Gabriel takes a charge as he goes for a clothesline, but Mr. PURE ducks underneath as he bounces off the opposite end. Gabriel takes off with a standing drop kick as Mr. PURE gets hit hard and he drops down on the mat. Gabriel bounces to his feet as Mr. PURE does the same. Connecting with a hard right hand is Gabriel as Mr. PURE staggers back onto the corner. Gabriel cocks back with a right hand, but Mr. PURE ducks underneath as he straps both arms across the stomach of Gabriel. Trying to pull back for a belly to back, Mr. PURE fails as Gabriel charges for the ropes and glues both arms onto the top rope causing Mr. PURE to release and roll back against the mat.
Jerry Andrews: Based on the early part of this match, I think Gabriel might be in for a long night.
Ace Anderson: I agree with you on that.......... First time I think.
Mr. PURE is quick to his feet. Gabriel charges him, but Mr. PURE hits him with a diving crossbody. Mr. PURE now pulls Gabriel up and hits him with a headbutt, sending him reeling. Shoving him into the corner, Mr. PURE climbs and begins to hammer away with several jabs for a ten count. The fans count along with the punches.
1!
2!
3!
4!
5!
6!
7!
8!
9!
10!
Gabriel staggers out of the corner and flops to the mat.
Jerry Andrews: The unorthodox style of Mr. PURE has certainly caught Gabriel off guard.
Ace Anderson: Maybe so, but he knew he was going to be in this match tonight. Mr. PURE had no idea he was facing Gabriel!
Mr. PURE approaches Gabriel and pulls him to his feet. Gabriel hits him with a low blow. Mr. PURE shouts in pain as Gabriel staggers back to his feet.
Jerry Andrews: Oh come on! Ref!
Gabriel connects with a murderous super kick! Mr. PURE drops on the mat as Gabriel leans on the ropes. Picking himself up Gabriel begins to stomp away on Mr. PURE as he rolls through the bottom rope and onto the apron. Slowly getting to his feet, Mr. PURE throws a right hand, but it's blocked by Gabriel. Gabriel hooks the arm and grabs Mr. PURE by the tights. Pulling back, Gabriel sets Mr. PURE up for a suplex and connects as Mr. PURE crashes onto the mat.
Jerry Andrews: Gabriel turning it on now. There seems to be a lot of anger inside him tonight.
Sitting up, Mr. PURE shouts in pain as Gabriel bounces off the ropes and connects with a front face drop kick that leaves Mr. PURE lifeless. Hooking the leg, the official slides across the ring:
1...
2....
NO!
Mr. PURE kicks out as Gabriel quickly goes back on offense. Lifting Mr. PURE to his feet, Gabriel scoops him up and drills his knee to the spine with back breaker. Mr. PURE slowly crawls to the corner and lifts himself to his feet. Gabriel charges for a clothesline as Mr. PURE lifts his boot and connects with a big kick to Gabriel's face. Gabriel staggers back but not too far as Mr. PURE trips him off his feet and hooks both legs. Pulling back, Gabriel is chucked to the corner as he goes face first onto the top turnbuckle. Staggering back, Mr. PURE quickly jumps to his feet as he sets Gabriel up for a belly to back suplex and connects. Mr. PURE slowly gets to his feet as Gabriel is curled in a ball while grabbing his neck in pain.
Jerry Andrews: Gabriel might be hurt!
Ace Anderson: He does have a history of neck injuries. Well.... actually... Rick Majors does... but... errr.....
Gabriel grabs the bottom rope and reels himself in trying to pick himself to his feet. Leaning onto the ropes, Gabriel slowly turns around to spot Mr. PURE charging. PURE connects with a huge clothesline which sends Gabriel over the top rope and to the outside! Gabriel crashes onto the outside floor as Mr. PURE. Gabriel slowly gets to his feet as Mr. PURE leaps over the ropes with a flying crossbody that connects! PURE rolls Gabriel back into the ring.
On the inside, PURE goes to pull Gabriel up, but Gabriel drives an elbow into his stomach. Mr. PURE takes a step back while Gabriel gets to his feet. Gabriel nails a hard right hand which sends Mr. PURE to the corner. The official checks on Mr. PURE, but Gabriel shoves the official aside and he goes after his opponent. Mr. PURE hits a big double boot to Gabriel's face, sending him down to the mat. PURE then climbs to the top rope. He waits for Gabriel to stand and then leaps off the top with a diving hurricanrana! He rolls into a pin!
1....
2.....
Jerry Andrews: I thought it was over!
Ace Anderson: Gabriel gets his shoulder up at the last second!
Both competitors slowly get to their feet. Suddenly, Mr. PURE drops several smoke bombs, disorienting everyone in the ring!
Jerry Andrews: What the hell is going on!?
Ace Anderson: Moments of PURE JOY!!!!!
Jerry Andrews: HUH???
Ace Anderson: Of course YOU can't understand pure joy. You're such a bitter, sad man.
PURE uses the distraction to unload with a series of strikes, kicks, and punches, sending Gabriel down to the mat. Then the entire ring is filled with smoke and no one can see what is happening. When the smoke clears, Gabriel is down on the mat, and Mr. PURE is on the top turnbuckle ready to pounce!
Ace Anderson: Pure Shock!!!!
Jerry Andrews: The cover!!!
1...
2...
3!!!!
Jerry Andrews: Mr. PURE wins!
Ace Anderson: What a huge victory for the newcomer!
Sasha Greene: The following is scheduled for ONE FALL, introducing at this time, he weighs in at 227 lbs... TYRONE "CRAZY BOY" SMITH!!
The lights flicker and fade out as the pulsating beats of Dope Star Inc's "10000 Watts of Artificial Pleasure" pops on the PA system. Smoke fills the arena as a figure stands in the middle of it. All the sudden, Crazy Boy comes out of the smoke and pumps a fist in the air. He walks down the entryway and climbs the ropes of the ring. He bounces around the ropes a few times, pumps his fist in the air one last time and waits for his opponent to come.
Jerry Andrews: Tonight we see the return of one of the most endeared and tenured Pure Class Wrestling staples, the energetic, insane Crazy Boy!
Ace Anderson: Where has he been hiding the last few weeks?... And, how do we send him back there?
Jerry Andrews: Will you stop! Crazy Boy has given us so much high flying entertainment over the years, and the fans really respond well to him.
Ace Anderson: I'm not sure that it's a good idea for the fans to be glomming on to a guy who advocates what he does. Plus, his name is literally Crazy, boy.
The grinding guitars and drums begin their assault. After a few moments Holden steps of from the back. He surveys the crowd and lifts both fists into the air before beginning his trek to the ring.
Sasha Greene: Making his way to the ring, standing six foot-five and weighing in at three hundred and twenty-five pounds and hails from SLO; he is THE BASTARD, HOLDEN ROSS!!
He launches himself onto the apron from the floor in one quick leap before climbing into the ring. He heads to his corner in anticipation of the start of the match.
Jerry Andrews: Oh my god, look at the size of this man!
Ace Anderson: And look at his hops... Man, I think I just saw a brick fall into the back of Tyrone's pants.
Jerry Andrews: Well, this is Holden Ross' debut match, so I think now is going to be a good test of what we can expect from him.
Singles Match
Holden Ross vs Tyrone "Crazy Boy" Smith
Referee: Eric Russo
The bell rings. Ross calls for a tie-up, and as they go for a collar-elbow Holden clearly begins overpowering Crazy Boy and shoving him downwards, forcing him back. Finally, Ross throws Crazy Boy halfway across the ring. Crazy Boy looks at the referee, who is just as goggle eyed as he is, and Holden Ross flexes his arms and lets out a roar. Tyrone composes himself, his upper lip noticeably a bit sweaty. But he gets back to his feet. Ross holds his hands out again for a tieup, but Crazy Boy slips away under his arms and begins lighting Holden's legs up with kicks. He sweeps around his side and kicks his in the hamstring several times. Finally, though, Holden catches Crazy Boy's leg, puts his hand on his chest and throws him down to the mat with force. Crazy Boy quickly gets to his feet, and Ross whips him to the ropes and on the return drops him with a back body drop. Crazy Boy gets to his feet and takes a discus clothesline, then as he gets back up he is hit with a back elbow. Crazy Boy gets to his feet holding his back and Ross lifts him up with a military press, and he drops him face first on the canvas. Crazy Boy gets to his feet one more time. Ross runs at him for a clothesline, but Crazy Boy ducks under it and begins firing away with forearm shots to the face, and mixing in a few straight kicks to the midesction. He walks Holden over to the turnbuckle and goes to slam his face into it, but Ross overpowers him and elbows him off. Crazy Boy backs off, holding his face, and Ross explodes out of the corner with a clothesline.
Jerry Andrews: Oh! What power by Ross!
Ace Anderson: I am terrified right now, we don't know anything about this guy other than the fact that he's as solidly built as a refrigerator and as remorseless as a Terminator.
Jerry Andrews: Well his sobriquet is "The Bastard" so I don't think he's here to play nice at all.
Ross lifts Crazy Boy up by the head and goes to irish whip him to the ropes, but on the return he slides under his legs behind his, then as Ross turns around Crazy Boy trips his with a drop toehold before floating into an illegal turtling position and begins unloading punches into the back of his head. The ref tells Crazy Boy about the closed fists, and he respectfully backs off. Crazy Boy lifts Ross up a little and gives his a knee lift. He grips his head and starts giving his a few mounted punches, then he applies a rear chinlock. Ross flails his arms, as Crazy Boy tightens the hold. Ross uses all his strength to push Crazy Boy over towards the ropes, but Crazy Boy keeps the chinlock applied. Ross tries to fight to his feet. Crazy Boy shakes his head, saying he should give up, and twists his neck. Ross slowly fights to his feet as he grips Crazy Boy's legs and lifts him up on his back, and with a burst of strength he runs backwards and squashes Smith into the corner. He does this again, squashing Crazy Boy behind his in the corner, and finally Crazy Boy loosens the hold. Ross hangs on, paces forward a few steps, and then comes in with a lot of velocity to crush Crazy Boy in the corner. Crazy Boy comes staggering out, and Ross irish whips him with force into the opposite corner. When he comes staggering out, holding his back, Ross drops him with a big sidewalk slam. Ross keeps an arm draped over Crazy Boy for the pin.
Jerry Andrews: Oooh, he’s flatter than IHOP’s specialty.
Ace Anderson: It's IHOb now, and their specialty is shitty service!
The referee: One... Kickout.
Ross lifts Crazy Boy up and lays him across the ropes, and he gives him a big open-handed slap across the chest, drawing a "WHOOOO!" from the crowd. Crazy Boy screams and jumps and holds his chest in pain. Ross throws Crazy Boy into the corner, and gives him anothis big overhand slap, and Crazy Boy staggers out, holding his chest in pain. Ross whips him into the opposite corner, and he comes running at him, looking for a big corner clothesline. Crazy Boy flings his elbow out and nails Ross. Ross staggers back to the middle of the ring. Crazy Boy runs at his, but he is caught by a big powerslam from Ross. Ross holds on for the pin.
Jerry Andrews: Crazy Boy can't keep any separation, he is being dominated by Ross.
Ace Anderson: This guy is relentless.
The referee: One...
Two... Kickout.
Ross stares at the referee, frustrated. Ross motions for Crazy Boy to get up, and as he gets up, still doubled over he runs off the ropes. However, he attempts a running knee lift and he spins away at the last second and counters into a swinging reverse neckbreaker. Crazy Boy goes for a cover now.
The referee: One… Kickout.
Crazy Boy waits for Ross to get up and blasts him with a jawbreaker, making the big man stumble back woozily. Crazy Boy, trying to quicken the pace a little, runs off the ropes and takes Ross by surprise with a flying wheel kick. Ross falls to his back and Crazy Boy doesn't waste a second's momentum. He drops a leg across his throat before going for another cover.
The referee: One…
Two… Ross furiously kicks out.
Jerry Andrews: Ross has a look in his eye like someone who has been buzzed by a very persistent fly.
Ace Anderson: Now we're going to see how dangerous he is when he's really pissed off.
Crazy Boy lifts Ross up, but he is cut off by a headbutt. Ross yanks Crazy Boy over to the ropes and begins choking him violently on the middle. The referee says "You know you can't do that!" Silly wrestler. So, he starts counting Ross for disqualification, and Ross, in his turn as an aggressive asshat pretends to ignore the ref until the count of four. Finally Ross releases. Crazy Boy is trying to get some air into his lungs. Ross lifts him up and plants him with a torture rack flapjack. Holden takes his time, pacing to the opposite side of the ring, flexing his Taking his time, Ross hoists him up again and Crazy Boy begins to slowly fight back. He lands punch after punch, making Ross stumble off. He runs off the ropes, hitting the bigger man with a shoulder block that knocks Ross back a bit, but does not knock him off his feet.
Jerry Andrews: Tyrone is getting desperate now, looking for anything that will slow Ross down.
Crazy Boy hops up to the ropes and comes off with a Crazy missile dropkick, catching Ross flat-footed. That was enough to put the bigger man down again, blinking as if he doesn't know what happened.
Jerry Andrews: He did it! Ross is down!
Crazy Boy covers...
The referee: One...
Two... Kickout.
Not deterred, or apparently perturbed by the hundred pound size difference, Crazy Boy cinches in a facelock, and tries to lift Ross up for a vertical suplex, but Ross blocks with his foot, elbows Crazy Boy’s hold loose, then lifts him up in a vertical suplex before flipping him forward so that he lands on his stomach. Crazy Boy rolls around, holding his stomach, and then Ross lifts him up and punishes him with a harsh backbreaker. Ross applies a dragon sleeper hold to Crazy Boy. The referee asks Crazy Boy to give up, but he waves his hand to say he won’t. Ross has his knee dug in his back as he pulls Crazy Boy downward. Finally, Crazy Boy’s arms begin shaking with energy as he starts fighting his way up, and then he swings his leg up and kicks his in the face, twice. Holden releases the hold. Crazy Boy takes a second to catch his breath, then he begins elbowing a rising Ross in the stomach. He floors him with a club to the back. Ross lifts Crazy Boy to his feet and decimates him with a dangerous DDT, then covers.
Ace Anderson: I feel like we use the word crazy a bit too liberally, considering some of the mental states of this fed taken as a microcosm, but dang, that was...
Jerry Andrews: ...Unbelievable?
Ace Anderson: Yes, we can roll with that. Somehow, Crazy Boy is hanging in there with the big hoss.
The referee: One…
Two… Kickout.
Crazy Boy looks crestfallen. He holds his fingers up for three. He starts to get up, but Ross is dead weighting him and won't let him pull him up easily this time. Now when Crazy Boy tries to pick him up for a throw, Ross breaks free, bell claps Smith's ears, and lifts Crazy Boy up, and hooks him in position for a powerbomb. But as he has Crazy Boy up over his head, Crazy Boy kick the back of Ross’s head and floats out of his grasp behind his, and when he lands on his feet, Ross turn around right into a Pele kick from Crazy Boy.
Jerry Andrews: These two have matched each other counter for counter!
Ross staggers to his feet right into a springboard crossbody from Crazy Boy. Crazy Boy gets to his feet, pacing around and getting fired up, and then as Ross pulls hisself up he hits a spinning wheel kick. Crazy Boy then does a double springboard up to the top rope and hits a Best Moonsault Ever!, staying on top for the cover.
The referee: One…
Two… Kickout.
Ross pulls hisself up using the ropes. Crazy Boy eggs his to get up. He backs up and runs to the opposite ropes then charges Ross across the ring, but as he gets close to his He scoops him up in a military press and lifts him high over his head, keeping his forward momentum going by throwing him out of the ring and making him splatter across the announce table, which shakes violently but does not break. The announcers vacate their chairs.
Jerry Andrews: Incoming!
Ace Anderson: Ouch, he looks rough.
Jerry Andrews: This desk has been reinforced, that did more damage to him than anything.
Ace Anderson: I’m glad, cause I’m tired of people messing up my desk, it’s where I hide my liquor.
Ross stands on the apron, waiting for Crazy Boy to start pulling himself up on the table, and He flies off the apron hisself, but Crazy Boy moves and Ross simply smacks his face off the table and bounces off. The crowd erupts in amazement at Ross’s attempt. Both Crazy Boy and Holden are down for the moment by the announce table. The referee tells both competitors to get in the ring. Crazy Boy lifts Ross up and slams his head off the apron a few times. In the ring, Dean warns Crazy Boy to get in the ring. Crazy Boy walks Holden over and attempts to slam his face into the steel step, but he blocks and punches him. Ross backs up, and he runs at Crazy Boy, but he drop toeholds the incoming Ross so that he actually falls face first across the top of the steel steps. Crazy Boy then quickly climbs in the ring, breaking the count Dean had started, springs up to the top rope and then jumps off with a Warrior’s way style foot stomp, smashing Ross’s face into the steel ring steps. The crowd erupts into a loud “Holy shit” chant.
Jerry Andrews: his skull could be caved in, who could survive that?
Crazy Boy attempts to lift a limp Ross up, but the big man weakly pushes him off. He clubs his over the back a few more times and rolls his giant carcass into the ring. Crazy Boy tries to lift him up for an airplane spin, but Crazy Boy groans, holding his lower back and Ross gets down, then Ross runs into the ropes at a perpendicular angle so that he can ram into Crazy Boy from the side, nearly POUNCING him out of his damn wrestling shoes. After the momentum of the charge is spent, Ross falls to one knee, shaking the cobwebs out of his head, sweat dripping down his face.
Jerry Andrews: I'm told he calls that the Steamroller! That could have been it right there!
Ace Anderson: Yes, but he’s still feeling the effects of that nasty stomp on the steps. Ross may have a concussion.
Jerry Andrews: We’ll be able to tell if he starts getting sleepy.
Ace Anderson: That’s easy to figure out, just listen to you for a while.
Finally Ross is able to pull across the ring, recover Crazy Boy and push him over a few times into a cover.
The referee: One...
Two...
Thre- Kickout.
Ross slowly gets to his feet, checking for blood. He lifts Crazy Boy up and plants him with a spinebuster. Crazy Boy is lifeless in the middle of the ring, but Ross suddenly smirks. He grabs Crazy Boy’s arm and drags him over to a corner, goes over to the ropes, and starts climbing to the top rope. He then tries to jump off with a sitting splash on the prone Crazy Boy, but he rolls out of the way and He just hits the mat butt first. Crazy Boy gets to his feet, and in one smooth motion he blasts Ross with a buzzsaw kick. Crazy Boy lifts Ross up and he drops his with a belly to belly suplex. Ross holds his back, and Crazy Boy holds his hands up to the crowd and shouts that it's time to get Crazy. That should be his catchphrase. I don't know if he has one. Anyway, Crazy Boy turns back to Ross, and lifts him up and hits two consecutive vertical suplexes, and keeps his hands in place as he lifts Ross up one final time and drops his with a final suplex. He covers.
The referee: One...
Two...
Thre- Kickout.
Crazy Boy smiles to himself in frustration. He looks to the top rope and smiles, and climbs to the top. He motions to the crowd, and then he flies off with a big frog splash, but the big man rolls out of the way, and Crazy Boy splats to the mat! Ross, still weak from the last few moves he'd taken, shakes his head and tries to uncross his eyes as Crazy Boy lays on the mat holding his ribs. The referee checks on both men while they're down, and starts counting them both down. 1... 2... 3... 4... 5... both men start to stir... 6... Crazy Boy and Ross both get to their feet. Crazy Boy grips Ross’s arm and twists it into an armwringer. Ross simply pounds him in the face with a short forearm. The two exchange right hands, and Ross starts to get the better of Crazy Boy, beating him back to the ropes. Ross backs up a few steps, and comes running at him, looking for a big boot, but Crazy Boy ducks under it and plants Ross with a flatliner. Now, as Ross begins trying to sit up, Crazy Boy applies a Vulcan nerve hold to the trapezius muscle! Ross howls and he grips at his shoulder, as it starts going numb. Crazy Boy releases the hold and he gives his a few clubbing blows across his back, as he tries to whip his off the ropes, he reverses, sending him to the ropes. On the return, he bends over as if for a back body drop, but Crazy Boy suddenly kicks him right in the mush. Ross straightens up, and he glares at him, pissed. His eyes open wide in shock.
Jerry Andrews: Oh, no, it looks like Crazy Boy hit a nerve!
Crazy Boy swings at Ross for a clothesline, but Ross blocks it, and drops him with a big right hand. Crazy Boy's eyes open up wide, and he rolls to his knees. He gets up, and Ross goes to whip him off the ropes. Ross throws him hard, and Crazy Boy comes jogging back at top speed, and suddenly Ross pops him up in the air. On the way down, Crazy Boy tries to counter, snatching the head for a tornado DDT, but Ross hooks his pants and as Crazy Boy begins the arc of his descent, Ross stops him, he gathers Crazy Boy in and flings him with a devastating looking sidewinder suplex. The crowd responds with an impressed roar for the show of power.
Jerry Andrews: That was insane!!
Ace Anderson: I swear, some mental health advocacy groups are going to be all on our asses about our use of abusive language to the mentally impaired.
Jerry Andrews: Alright, genius, what would you call that throw Ross just did?
Ace Anderson: That was... that was fucking nuts, I'll admit.
Jerry Andrews: Also, let me remind you that one of the competitors in this match is named CRAZY BOY.
Ross motions for his opponent to get up. Crazy Boy groans, holding his lower back as he gets to his feet, and Ross boots him in the gut, double underhooks the arms and then turns him over then crushes him with a vertebreaker. Ross places a hand on Crazy Boy's chest.
Jerry Andrews: He calls that Sins of the Father, and Crazy Boy is done.
The referee counts.
The referee and the crowd: ONE...
TWO...
THREE!!
Ding Ding Ding
Sasha Greene: Here is your winner... HOLDEN ROSS!!
"Seizure of Power" by Marilyn Manson begins playing on the PA as Ross gets to his feet, and he demands the referee hold his hand up. He flexes his other arm and roars wildly.
Jerry Andrews: Well Crazy Boy put up a game showing, but Holden Ross put on an impressive show in his debut match tonight.
Ace Anderson: We've seen some impressive looks into this future on this edition of Trauma, and Holden Ross definitely looks like a standout.
Ross walks to the ropes, flexing his muscles and posing and taking in the reaction from the crowd. The referee is attending to Crazy Boy.
Jerry Andrews: I wonder what we're going to see from these men in the future.
The lights dim in the arena and the opening drum beats of A Warrior's Call begins to play. The crowd is on their feet as the strobe lights crank up on the stage.
Jerry Andrews: Looks like we are getting an unexpected appearance from PCW's newest giant.
Ace Anderson: Great...
Jerry Andrews: You don't sound very enthused.
Ace Anderson: That's because I'm not.
Jerry Andrews: Well the PCW Faithful sound enthused! Just listen to that crowd!
The crowd yells out the words "let's get ready to rumble" and the big man finally steps out onto the stage wearing a pair of jeans with holes in the knees, a black shirt, and a black leather jacket with spikes in the shoulders. Monster stands on the stage as the crowd begins chanting his name. Monster surveys the crowd and smirks as he sends the hand holding a PCW microphone into the air. The crowd goes wild, and this causes Darren to reveal a full smile. Monster descends the ramp high-fiving fans along the way. He stops at the bottom and waves the camera over to reveal a sign that reads "Respect Tha Mohawk" with a silhouette of a man with a black and green mohawk. Darren bumps fists with the fan holding it and brings his hands up to to his head, slicking his mohawk up as he grins into the camera.
Ace Anderson: He acts like he won last week or something. Why is he even out here?
Jerry Andrews: Well, we have yet to hear a public address from Monster since his mysterious arrival in the middle of the Icemann Invitational.
Ace Anderson: He never even should have been allowed to enter the tournament.
Jerry Andrews: Well, technically... him and Tha Joka were still employed with PCW when the tournament took place. Even if it has been close to a year since the Faithful have seen either of those two.
Monster has finished ringside and has entered the ring as the two commentators finish up their speculation. Monster climbs a turnbuckle and puts his arm holding the mic in the air to one last eruption of cheers from the crowd. He quickly hops down and begins slowly walking a circle in the ring with the microphone held up to his mouth, but hasn't said anything yet. The crowd had begun to die down but the silence causes another chant, and this causes Darren to drop the mic to his side and stop with a smile on his face.
"MONSTER! MONSTER! MONSTER! MONSTER!"
Jerry Andrews: The PCW Faithful are eating this up!
Ace Anderson: He just needs to get on with it, already.
The crowd dies down quicker this time and the gigantic Darren Silvaira puts the mic to his mouth and breathes in deeply.
Monster: In case you haven't been paying attention... The Monster is BACK... in Pure Class... WRESTLING!!!
Darren's accent is a mix of northern Brazilian and southern American and this is the first time the crowd is hearing him speak. The crowd erupts in cheers at the sound of his low, gravely voice; which sounds guttural the louder he speaks.
Monster: I wasn't sure what kind of reception I'd receive coming back to PCW. I just wanted to come out here and thank you, to all of the PCW fans, for the warm welcome back into the ring. Obrigado, meus amigos!
The crowd pops loudly as the camera gets shots of fans giving Darren a standing ovation. The camera cuts back to the ring as soon as the cheering dies down again.
Monster: Ever since my return to the ring, I've seen one prevailing complaint about my estilo... my style. The trolls on the internet seem to have a problem with someone showing respect to their opponent. They say I'm dumb to offer a handshake before the match. They say I'm... I'm foolish. They say that good guys don't last in PCW. Word is nine times out of ten, I'll get sucker punched for being too "trusting".
Ace Anderson: It's not smart on his part
Jerry Andrews: But it is respectful on his part.
Monster: It does not matter what anyone thinks about it because I will always show respect before a match... and will be gracious afterward. I was taught that it shows great strength to respect an opponent both in victory AND in defeat. With that said I would like to show Hiroshi Yukio my respect.
Monster faces the stage, puts a closed fist into an open palm, and bows. The crowd gives him a standing ovation.
Monster: With that out of the way I'd like to get to the point of coming out here, even though I'm not booked for a match. I felt you fans hadn't had a proper introduction with me but also... I have a bit of a surprise for you, the fans!
The crowd cheers loudly as Monster drops the mic to his side and looks around the crowd.
Jerry Andrews: It would seem that Monster likes surprises. I wonder what it could be?
Ace Anderson: Maybe he's announcing his retirement!
Jerry Andrews: I bet you'd love that.
Monster: You see... I've learned quite a bit from the matches I've been in up to this point, especially from my last match. Hiroshi Yukio is strong, there's no doubt about that. However, with Alexa Black in the Yokozuna's corner, he is much stronger. A seasoned veteran, a legend in the business watching your back from the sidelines. That's always a good idea! Especially when people like Seromine will utilize their backup in more... sinister ways. It would be good to have someone watching my back...
All of the lights in the arena flicker and eventually go out completely. The crowd is in a murmur being suddenly blanketed in darkness with no warning.
Jerry Andrews: Oh... uh well folks we seem to be experiencing some technical difficulties but... wait. Something is coming across the PCW-Tron...
The big screen begins to flicker to life with a video of a boat floating in dark, murky water. The colors begin to distort as the sounds of water drops begin playing through the speakers. The crowd is dead silent as everyone is fixated on the video but suddenly someone's soft voice begins playing through the speakers.
"There's no earthly way of knowing... which direction we are going. There's no knowing where we're going or which way the wind is blowing."
The crowd stands up and begins cheering as Monster walks to and leans against the ropes facing the PCW-Tron.
Jerry Andrews: Is it who I think it is?
Ace Anderson: Who else could it be?
Jerry Andrews: Well it's certainly been awhile since we've seen him around here!
"Not a speck of light is showing, so the danger must be growing. Oh, the fires of hell are glowing
. Is the grisly reaper mowing? YES! The danger must be growing! For the rowers keep on rowing and they're certainly not showing... ANY SIGNS THAT THEY ARE SLOWING!!!"
Crowd: STOP THE BOAT!
Doll-Dagga Buzz-Buzz Ziggety-Zag by Marilyn Manson begins playing as the lights in the arena come back on and Tha Joka walks out onto the stage to an eruption of cheers from the crowd. Joka is wearing jeans and a leather jacket similar to Monster but he has a hoodie on underneath. His head hangs low and his face is concealed by a hood. He stops and crosses his arms as the crowd explodes into a chant.
Crowd: HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!
Jerry Andrews: Oh my God! The clown is back!
Ace Anderson: You either love him, or you love to hate him!
Monster: So I present to all of you. From Oklahoma City, Oklahoma. A PCW veteran and the Clown Prince of Hardcore! The Resident Ball Kicker of PCW! My new Manager and appearing for the first time on Trauma without his face-paint. Byron Belasko... better known as... THA JOKA!!!
Joka raises his head and reaches up, pulling the hood down and revealing his face to the crowd and the camera. His usual long green and black dreadlocks are absent as Joka has his green and black hair pulled back into a ponytail. Joka descends the ramp as the crowd loses it.
Jerry Andrews: In his last go-around in PCW, Joka would get regularly booed. Upon his return, he is cheered. Monster is well liked by the crowd but if Joka is running the show as his manager, we could see Monster getting booed in the near future.
Ace Anderson: With a psycho like Joka, you never can tell which way he'll go.
Joka slides into the ring and pops up, raising his arms into the air to cheers from the crowd. Joka walks over and hugs Monster and points to him as he looks out into the crowd with a smile on his face. Monster hands the mic to Joka as he looks out over the crowd who are all on their feet cheering for him.
Joka: For every one of you in the back... with your friends... with your managers... with mindless "followers"... I have a warning. I'm not just his manager... I'm his own personal psychotic berserker! You play nice and fair, and I play nice and fair and we all go in the back and have a beer. If'n you pick a fight with The Monster of PCW or find yerself in a match with him, you better be prepared to beat him one-on-one! You ain't gon' have help 'cus if anyone tries to jump him from behind, y'er gon' find a size thirteen steel-toed clown shoe in between y'er legs from y'ers truly! By-the-by... see ya'll in the funny pages!
Joka drops the mic to the mat and Monster's music plays as the crowd erupts in cheers, with a faint "Joka" chant getting started in the back.
Jerry Andrews: So have we've seen the end of Monster getting distracted or attacked by managers and valets?
Ace Anderson: Maybe... or maybe it's only a matter of time before Joka is doing the same thing to Monster's opponents.
Jerry Andrews: Only time will tell.
Sasha Greene: The following is scheduled for one fall, introducing first, he weighs in at 195 lbs... HIGH TIDE!!
With very little lighting and effects that simulate lightning, High Tide (in a pirate outfit) walks down the ramp slightly crouched over, as if he was sitting. He holds a large pirate flag in one hand, and in the other he is imitating steering a ship. He does this until he gets to the ring where he motions dropping and anchor and proceeds to hop on to the turnbuckle and dive headfirst over the ropes, rolling into a standing position. Then he climbs the nearest turnbuckle and pulls out a spyglass, looking around at the audience. He mimics loading a cannon and as he motions firing it, he jumps off the turnbuckle into the ring (to imitate recoil) as fireworks shoot from all four turnbuckles.
Jerry Andrews: What an ovation for this perennial fan favorite, High Tide is ready for action!
Ace Anderson: You say fan favorite, I say nuisance. Plus, wasn't it not long ago that High Tide was running around in a stable with The Wasp and Arica Lewitt attacking people from behind, and now he's out here playing to the fans?
Jerry Andrews: We don't, uh... we're not supposed to mention that...
Ace Anderson: A modicum of consistency is all I'm asking for!
Sasha Greene: And his opponent, he weighs in at 221 lbs... The Hollywood Hero, GERARD ANGELO!!
The arena goes dark and the hook to Kanye West & Jay-Z’s “Who Gon Stop Me” Starts to play and lights start to flash from the stage before a red carpet is rolled out down the ramp and a big spotlight appears on the stage, out walks the Hollywood Hero, Gerard Angelo. Dressed in his wrestling gear and his trademark shades, he extends his arms and does a spin as he soaks up the cheers from the fans. Gerard walks down the red carpet, smirk plastered on his face. As he gets to the bottom, Gerry slides into the ring and leaps onto the second turnbuckle and extends his arms again, soaking up more cheers. He repeats this on every turnbuckle before he lays across the the top turnbuckle like a hammock awaiting his opponent.
Jerry Andrews: This man is always open for a new opportunity, and a new chance to up his fame profile.
Ace Anderson: He's been part of some close matches in the past few shows, now we're going to see if he brings his best against our resident bucaneer.
Singles Match
High Tide vs Gerard Angelo
Referee: Joseph Buckland
High Tide vs Gerard Angelo
Referee: Joseph Buckland
The bell rings and both men circle each other, High Tide moving quickly, Angelo taking his time and pacing. High Tide shoots in and secures a side headlock on Angelo. Angelo backs into the ropes and tries to push High Tide loose, but High Tide, in a bulldog like maneuver jumps to the mat, keeping the lock sealed tight. Angelo struggles for a moment, then fights his way back to his feet in which he staggers to the nearby ropes and wraps his arm around the top rope. The referee forces High Tide to break, and he obliges. Angelo looks up at High Tide, then they go to lock up again, this time High Tide floats around behind Angelo looking for a rear waistlock but Angelo reverses as he floats around behind High Tide, strapping on a rear waistlock. High Tide moves around trying to break Angelo's grip loose but Angelo muscles High Tide to the mat with a belly to back amateur takedown. Angelo then floats over and straps a front facelock on High Tide. High Tide after a moment is able to work his way to all fours and then fireman's carry Angelo to the mat. High Tide goes back to locking on a side headlock.
Jerry Andrews: I think Angelo was too loose coming in, and High Tide has been able to confound him with some early takedowns.
Ace Anderson: Yeah, because of course, who would even expect that rum and brine pickled twit to have the brain capacity to know those strategies?
Jerry Andrews: Underestimating someone like High Tide is your first mistake.
Angelo brings his legs up and clamps a headscissors around High Tide's head with his thighs, pulling him loose. High Tide struggles in the hold for a moment, and then uses his leg strength to bridge over with a jackknife pin. The referee counts.
The referee: One... Kickout.
High Tide lifts Angelo up and locks him in a side headlock again. Angelo gets to his feet as he flares some elbows into High Tide's midsection, breaking the hold. Angelo then runs off the ropes and on the return, High Tide flings Angelo to the mat with an arm whip. High Tide holds onto Angelo's arm as he twist it into an arm wrench. Angelo grimaces in pain, then he grips High Tide's grabbing hand and twists it behind O'Conner's back with a hammerlock. High Tide yelps in pain, and flails his free arm around, and then he begins throwing elbows to the side of Angelo's head, and after a monent elbows his way loose. High Tide runs off the ropes. On the return he is caught by an explosive powerslam from Angelo.
Ace Anderson: Thank god, I was beginning to think the only move High Tide knew was a headlock.
Angelo lifts High Tide up, and High Tide drops him with a quick jawbreaker. He lifts Angelo up, giving him a few knees strikes as he does, and backing him into the corner. He goes to irish whip Angelo into the opposite corner, and Angelo hits, chest first. as he stumbles out backwards High Tide rolls him up in a schoolboy. The referee counts...
The referee: One...
Two.. Kickout.
High Tide goes to lift Angelo up, but the bigger man boots him in the gut, grips him by his hair and the back of his tights and runs with him a short distance, throwing him forward so that High Tide goes crashing into the steel ringpost between the top and middle ropes. High Tide grimaces and yells in pain, and holds his shoulder. Angelo pulls him out and hits a variation of a Death Valley Bomb.
Jerry Andrews: It may be over here!
The referee: One...
Two... Kickout.
Angelo lifts High Tide up and gives him a few clubs to the back as he holds him in a front facelock. High Tide sinks to one knee. Angelo pulls High Tide up, and whips him into the corner, then he comes in looking for a corner splash, but High Tide moves at the very last second. Angelo staggers backwards, and High Tide quickly rolls him up from behind with a schoolboy.
Ace Anderson: Nothing but pride is on the line here, but for Angelo's case, pride is as big, ostentatious and flashy as any belt around a waist. And losing it to High Tide would be just as big a blow.
The referee: One...
Two… Kickout.
Angelo and High Tide rise at the same moment, and High Tide boots Angelo in the gut and drops down with a wicked looking DDT that leaves Angelo nearly vertically driven into the mat. Angelo flops over. High Tide takes a moment to begin stomping Angelo, and stomps every exposed part of Angelo’s body as he circles him. Finally, he drops a knee across Angelo’s forehead. High Tide arrogantly holds his hands up, and the crowd, confused as to whether they like the pirate or don't at this particular interval, gives a mixed sort of buzzing reaction. High Tide lifts Angelo up and gives him a harsh backbreaker, then stretches him across his knee. He shouts for Angelo to give up.
Jerry Andrews: High Tide has shown Angelo the proverbial lack of quarter here.
Ace Anderson: I never got that expression. So he doesn't have any quarters? How does he get through tolls?
Jerry Andrews: He - ...You know, never mind.
The referee asks over and over again if Angelo will give up, but he refuses. High Tide stretches Angelo further until his spine looks like it’s beginning to curve. Angelo is contorting and throwing his arms around. High Tide finally settles for shoving Angelo to the mat. He laughs in arrogance, and gives Angelo a kick to the ribs. High Tide jogs around the ring, dancing and waiting for Angelo to get up. When Angelo gets up, he avoids a clothesline, and High Tide turns around into a snap superkick. Angelo whips High Tide into the corner and follows it up with a running enziguri in the corner. Angelo picks High Tide back up, and shoves him back into the corner. He begins booting High Tide down a few times, and then he climbs up to the second turnbuckle and begins laying into High Tide's head with a ten-punch combo. As the crowd counts along, 1...2...3...4...5...6... Suddenly, High Tide pushes Angelo off. Angelo quickly gets to his feet and comes running in for clothesline, but High Tide ducks it and boots him in the gut. He sets Angelo up on the top rope. He gives Angelo a few right hands, then climbs up, motioning to the crowd as he gets set to give Angelo a frankensteiner, but Angelo headbutts him in the groin and pushes High Tide back to the mat. Angelo flies off with a crossbody, taking High Tide down, but neglecting to go for a pin.
Jerry Andrews: Now Angelo is doing his best to show off for us.
Ace Anderson: Stealing the show, and your girl, like all A-Listers.
Jerry Andrews: I think you're going to be expecting a call from some lawyers in the near future.
Angelo lifts High Tide up and irish whips him into the corner, following it up with a corner spear that cuts High Tide in half. He then pulls High Tide out and attempts to give him a German suplex, but High Tide grabs on to the top rope to block it. High Tide hangs on to the top rope, and the referee makes Angelo separate from High Tide, who is still hugging the rope. High Tide slowly turns around, and Angelo comes back towards him. High Tide boots him in the gut, and then runs off the ropes and takes Angelo down with a bulldog. He then attempts to follow it up with an Asai moonsault, but Angelo rolls out of the way, and High Tide hits the mat chest first.
Jerry Andrews: High Tide's ship sank like public interest in Pirates of the Caribbean movies!
Angelo calmly grips High Tide's injured arm and attaches a keylock, painfully wrenching the arm and wrist. High Tide groans and tries to pull himself free, or to pound on Angelo to make him loosen the hold, but Angelo refuses to let go. High Tide has no choice but to pull himself over inch by inch to the bottom rope, and he reaches out and grabs it. High Tide hangs on to the bottom rope for dear life. The referee tells Angelo to release the hold. Angelo at first refuses to, with a cold look on his face, but finally does. High Tide pulls himself out to the apron as he tries to regroup. Angelo walks over to lift High Tide back into the ring, but High Tide pokes him in the eye. High Tide then grabs Angelo's head and pulls down, across the top rope. Angelo's head flies back with a snap, and he falls into the ring, holding his throat. High Tide then gets back in the ring, and boots Angelo in the gut. He gives him a quick double underhook suplex. High Tide then motions that it's over, and with a confident grin he springs to the ropes and comes off, taking Angelo down with a shooting star DDT. High Tide pins arrogantly.
Jerry Andrews: This man doesn't lack for confidence, you can say that.
Ace Anderson: He's a middle aged dude wearing 1700's freebooter pants and a waistcoat to the ring. I think a large part of his act is delusion.
Jerry Andrews: But it convinces him, so fake it till you make it, I guess.
The referee: One...
Two... Kickout.
High Tide waits until Angelo gets to his feet, and then he places him in a sleeperhold, attempting to give him a sleeperhold release slam, but Angelo quickly begins fighting his way out of it, elbowing High Tide in the side of the head repeatedly and with machine-like intensity until High Tide's arms fall away. Angelo turns, and then he grips one of High Tide's arms as he hops up. He takes the arm and applies a double wristlock/kimura, bending both arms back behind High Tide.
Jerry Andrews: Well, High Tide was rolling confidently, but he played a hand of Go Fish too many, and now he is SOL.
Ace Anderson: You reach too hard for segues sometimes. Can't you just scream the name of the move that Angelo is using?
Jerry Andrews: What, Shit Outta Lock?
Ace Anderson: Hee hee, FCC fine for you this time.
In the middle of the ring, as Angelo has both arms hyperextended to their limit and pulls back, High Tide screams in pain and has no choice but to wave his hand in pantomime that he's tapping out. The referee orders the bell rung.
Ding Ding Ding
Sasha Greene: Here is your winner... GERARD ANGELO!
"Who Gon Stop Me" by Kanye West & Jay Z begins playing over the PA as Angelo throws High Tide to the mat and stares down, holding his hands up and mouthing off to the crowd. He says that it's his time now. High Tide is writhing on the mat, holding his arm and wrist to his chest and hissing in pain. Angelo arrogantly demands that the referee raise his hand.
Ace Anderson: You can just tell from the look in his eyes that this is a message to many in the back, of what's in store if they mess with Gerard Angelo!
Jerry Andrews: Well, Angelo continues to build momentum, and you can tell that as calculating and high minded of himself as he is, that he sees big things in his future.
Angelo holds his arm up in victory, exiting the ring and the crowd is giving him a negative reaction. High Tide is still on the mat, holding his injured arm in pain as Angelo walks up the ramp. Suddenly, he's attacked from behind by Gabriel!
Jerry Andrews: WHAT!?
Ace Anderson: Gabriel is here and he's unloading on Gerard Angelo!
Gabriel viciously assaults Angelo with a steel chair, beating his already injured arm with the chair until PCW official grab him and pull him away.
Jerry Andrews: It looks like everything he's been through recently has pushed Gabriel over the edge!
Angelo is attended to by the PCW medical team as the show goes to commercial.
Sasha Greene: The following match is scheduled for one fall and it is for the PCW Underground Title! Introducing first is the challenger.
Ace Anderson: I don’t envy Hiroshi after what happened earlier tonight…
The crowd looks to the entrance way as Rising Sun roars out and they know who is coming out from backstage and they start booing loudly almost drowning out the music.
Hiroshi Yukio steps through the curtain his face lit up with an evil smile. Conspicuous by her absence is Alexa Black...He walks slowly down the ramp as the booing intensifies as the PCW faithful don't hold back for the mountain man from Japan.
Sasha Greene: From Tokyo, Japan standing 6”6 and weighing in at 500 lbs, He is “The Destroyer” HIROSHI YUKIO!
He waves mockingly to the crowd which pisses them off even more as he walks and when he sees a kid at ringside and holds up his sign and rips it in half then laughs
As he continues to walk down to the ring as the crowd grows louder and louder so even the announcers can't get a word in over the booing.
He goes up the ring steps and steps over the top rope and into the ring After he does he does a purification ritual by throwing salt in the ring to cleanse it before the match.
The music fades out as Hiroshi stays in the ring waiting for his opponent.
Jerry Andrews: Not that I miss her, but where is Alexa Black?
Ace Anderson: That is strange not to see her out here…
No sooner does an answer come forth on the PCW Tron. A rather gaping hole in a wall has been made with the head of Alexa Black. Standing triumphantly over her, is a very, very, angry Underground Champion. Dominator turns his attention towards the gorilla position as he starts his march in that direction.
Jerry Andrews: Oh...my...god. What has Johnny Matthews unleashed?
The lights slowly fade to black. Flashes of cameras give intermittent glimmers of the darkened surroundings. There is a moment of silence as the crowd awaits with anticipation. The Tron slowly illuminates with the image of a ticking clock as the opening drum beats to Breaking Benjamin’s “Evil Angel” echo throughout the arena.
Sasha Greene: And his opponent. From Salisbury, England. Weighing 365lbs. He is the PCW Underground Champion, DOMINATOR!
The crowd suddenly comes alive as the guitars make themselves heard. As the first verse begins to play, he finally appears on the top of the stage…
…DOMINATOR…
The Zenith glares towards the crowd massed to his left, then to his right before slowly raising his left arm into the air, revealing a gold plated watch that envelopes his wrist. A shower of orange sparks begin to fall from the top of the Tron, briefly masking the Entrance Video as Dominator shows off his bulging biceps to the crowd.
He slowly walks down the ramp with a gleam in his eye, a wicked and arrogant smirk spread amidst his dark stubble. He makes no attempt to slap hands with the fans. He reaches the ring apron, grabbing the middle rope to haul him onto the side of the ring. He pushes down the top rope with his right hand, throwing one foot over the top before the other follows. He slowly makes his way to the center of the ring, turning a full three hundred and sixty degrees to admire the capacity crowd before raising his arms in the air in the exact same manner as he had done atop the entrance ramp, lifting them with malicious purpose to display the watches covering his wrists.
He cricks his neck back and forth before swinging his arms in preparation for the impending fight. All the while, that devious smile is still on his face and he looks to make eye contact with his opponent without a single hint of intimidation. The music slowly fades, the lights returning to a more average level of illumination as Dominator waits with masked enthusiasm for the start of the match.
PCW Underground Championship
Underground Rules
Dominator (PCW Underground 👑) vs Hiroshi Yukio
Referee: Ed Lane
Underground Rules
Dominator (PCW Underground 👑) vs Hiroshi Yukio
Referee: Ed Lane
DING!
DING!
DING!
The referee just best get the hell out of the way, because these two titans collide in the center of the ring. Back and forth they exchange haymakers with neither getting the better of the other. The shots come incredibly stiff. Yukio receives a smidgen of push back as Dominator asserts his anger. Hiroshi, not to be outdone in that department, shows the champ that he’s not Johnny Matthews and he will not be pushed around. Dominator finds himself being moved towards the ropes. Yukio gets him between the eyes with a headbutt. Dominator is spun into the ropes for the slightest of seconds. Yukio pushes into him with rapid palm strikes to the torso. With Dominator where he wants him, Yukio attempts an Irish whip. The champion fires back on the return with a powerful clothesline that turns the sumo inside out like a pair of socks. Well, not quite.
Dominator mounts and unloads with a ground and pound, using his gold plated watches as a weapon. Yukio covers the best he can, but Dominator is bringing the full brunt of his fury. He steps aside to pull Hiroshi up. Yukio is picked off his feet and rammed into a corner. Dominator attempts a shoulder charge, but takes a brutal chop between the blades to halt him dead. Yukio palm strikes him in the throat. Dominator gasps for air as he backs off. Yukio charges him across the ring and into the far corner with ring rattling impact. Dominator starts to slide in the corner. Yukio hits the ropes and returns to smash his face with a running hip attack. Dominator practically no sells it. Yukio, undeterred, gives him a second one for his troubles. Dominator isn’t able to easily shake that off. Yukio sneers as he double stomps him in the corner with all 500lbs of mass destruction.
Dominator is dragged out of the corner. He springs his legs inward in order to shove Yukio off. Dominator grabs a handful of ropes. A charging Yukio is tossed directly into the ring post, landing out of the ring with a thud. Dominator turns his head from side and side and readjusts his jaw before going out after him. Yukio is scooped off his feet and ran spine first into the base of the ring post. Dominator powers him onto his shoulder, spins on his feet, and with a running head start, POWERSLAMS HIM THROUGH THE BARRICADE! A row of chairs is knocked off as collateral damage, but the fans who had occupied those seats are safe and sound. Dominator digs his fingers into the hair of Hiroshi. He pulls him up to his feet before hoisting him high into the air in a vertical suplex. No! Dominator flips him down into the third-fifth row with a jackhammer! Seats bend. More fans scatter. An eruption of support swells. Yukio is quick to favor his back as Dominator seethes while returning to his feet.
Jerry Andrews: Hiroshi may need some medical attention after this match is over. Dominator has been put in a foul mood and he is going to take it out on the former fan favorite.
Ace Anderson: So long as they stay away from us, I don’t care. PCW doesn’t have an endless surplus of announce tables! Before long, tariffs could completely siphon our stock.
Yukio does his best to swat away high knee lifts, but ends up eating minimal impact. He shoves anyone in his way aside. Concession stand goodies fly in the air like blood splatter after blunt force trauma. Dominator stalks. Yukio catches him with a super kick! A pair of overzealous fans get pulled into the action after Dominator is down to a knee. Don’t worry, folks, they signed waivers. Dominator picks himself up, only to be knocked over into a pile of chairs by a pair of human darts! Yukio runs and comes down seated on top of Dominator’s chest! Yukio rips off the gold plated watches, as they soon become airborne souvenirs. Dominator is picked up like an abnormally large child across Yukio’s broad shoulders. He comes running out of the crowd with a senton bomb over the barricade! Air further escapes Dominator’s lungs following that.
Yukio throws the ring skirt back. He reaches under the ring and comes away with fire extinguisher. Dominator takes a swinging shot in the gut for his troubles. Then one to the face, which puts him against the ring post. Yukio lays it flat. Dominator is splashed against the post. NO! He catches Yukio mid-air. Dominator turns around to send Hiroshi onto the extinguisher with an overhead belly to belly suplex! Dominator keeps angrily yelling ‘MATTHEWS!’ as he works his way back to his feet. Dominator dead lifts Yukio off the floor. Again, he has him over his shoulder. Dominator runs him like a battering ram into the ring post, before delivering him snake eyes style on the ring apron. Not to be outdone on weapons, Dominator brings out a pane of glass. The entire thing is slammed through head to toe once Yukio presents himself to be. Glass shards and fragments explode all over the floor. Yukio topples to the floor, full of bloody cuts.
WE WANT MORE!
WE WANT MORE!
WE WANT MORE!
Jerry Andrews: The faithful have brought their lust for bloodshed!
Ace Anderson: Yukio is already BLEEDING, Jerry! How do we know if either one of these two have proper medical insurance? Both are from other points on the globe after all.
Dominator goes to pick Yukio up and for his troubles, gets a foot planted through the uprights. He promptly drops to his knees while doubling over. A crimson Yukio has procured a pair of brass knuckles. What would normally be a bell clap, is reinforced with double knuckles. Dominator slumps to his left side. Yukio pounds on his face with alternating shots, none of which Dominator is able to block immediately. The final shot sounds like a coconut being broken. It draws an instant OOOH from the fans. Well, now both challenger and champion are bleeding. Yukio rips off the cable from a camera, while he shoves the operator off his feet following it. The cable is used as an immediate whip, cutting into Dominator’s body. Yukio next wraps it around his neck, choking the lift out of him.
Once Yukio has rendered him semi-unconscious, he unwraps the cable. Dominator finds himself being gorilla press slammed back into the ring (over the top rope no less!). Yukio, looking like a much wider Carrie, steps back through the ropes. But he has brought some cinder blocks with him. They are neatly arranged in the center of the ring. Dominator is sent into the ropes. On the rebound he sends his big boot into the face of Hiroshi. Dominator is forced to take a pause in order to get some oxygen to his brain. Yukio, who hadn’t gone down following the boot, goes for the advantage. Dominator swings with a roundhouse, catching him in the belly. In one fluid motion, he has Yukio picked up ...THE NAMESAKE connects THROUGH the cinder blocks, breaking them into rubble!
Dominator finds out he is bleeding from the head and now is even madder than he was. Yukio is brought to his feet. To the corner he goes. Dominator buckles him with a charging shoulder. Yukio is turned around so that he is facing the corner. A second charging shoulder hits him in the back. Yukio is turned back around and whipped HARD into the opposite corner. Yukio staggers out following the momentum. DAY BREAK is nailed, only the Alabama Slam comes with Yukio being dumped over the top rope, so that he hits the apron head, neck, and shoulder first on the way. It’s pretty vicious looking and is enough to draw some sympathy. Dominator goes leg over leg as the top rope is shoved down to its breaking point. Yukio never knows what hits him as the top half of the steel ring steps is tossed in his face. He tumbles into the crowd. Dominator goes after him. He beats him like a government mule up the concrete stairs. Yukio, somehow, drop toe holds him into the railing head first. Both men are now down on the flat surface leading to one of the tunnels.
Jerry Andrews: I don’t have a good feeling about this…
Ace Anderson: Something you ate?
Jerry Andrews (thinking about it): That too. But how else will these two inflict punishment?
Yukio finally finds himself with the upper hand again. Dominator is swung into the rail. He gingerly falls right into a pop up powerbomb...ON THE CONCRETE STAIRS! Dominator is pushed down for an unceremonious tumble, but he will surely be feeling every ounce of that one. Yukio rips the shirt off a nearby fan, using it to wipe his own blood off from the previous pane of glass spot. Yukio drags Dominator across the cold, unforgiving floor. Back at ringside...Dominator is laid across a barrier made from a ladder (ring to barricade). Yukio goes to the top rope! His back is turned...MOONSAULT THROUGH THE LADDER! Both the weapon and Dominator are broken in two! HOLY SHIT! Chants fill the Pure Class Arena. Yukio dumps Dominator back into the ring. Yukio reaches underneath and pulls out a spool of not only barb wire, but also razor wire!! An ordinary wooden table is pushed in as well. Hiroshi hits a running senton splash! He then decides to go for a cover.
1!
2!
Kickout!
Yukio has an evil grin on his face. That means he gets to put his toys to use. The table is propped up. Barb wire is wrapped on one half of it. Razor wire is wrapped on the other half. What remains of both is strewn underneath. Anxiety and anticipation fills the fans hearts. Dominator is picked up and moved to a corner. Yukio sits him on the top rope. He then gets a foot on the middle rope. Dominator punches him in the mouth! Yukio shakes it off. He wipes some of Dominator’s own blood in his eyes to blind him. It works. Yukio gets his feet balanced. But why stop there when he can go to the TOP ROPE! Dominator finds himself getting set for a superplex through something he does NOT want to land on. He resists! Yukio fires shots to the head. Dominator is somehow, someway, wrestled onto Yukio’s shoulders. He takes flight with the LEAPING SAMOAN DROP THROUGH THE RAZOR INFESTED TABLE!! It splinters into a sea of OH HELL NO! Dominator is cut to hell, but Yukio takes the brunt, having slightly overshot the spot. There is plenty of blood to go around in the ring. Both are screaming in absolute agony. P-C-W! P-C-W! P-C-W! Chants break at a deafening pitch. The referee puts on some latex gloves in order to carefully aid Hiroshi from the wreckage. The wounds look deeper than they may actually be, but he’ll never forget what he went through. Dominator has rolled himself out of the ring as he recuperates.
Jerry Andrews: OH MY GAWD!!! The violent lengths some go through to win or retain the title are extreme!
Ace Anderson: That sounds like something someone would say in a bingo hall in Philadelphia…
Jerry Andrews: WHAT THE HE---
The commentary duo are forced out of their safe zone by the reigning, defending, PCW UNDERGROUND CHAMPION. The newest cohort of Phinehas Grimm in the Black Hand (gulp).The announce table is RIPPED off it’s location from out of nowhere and dragged out towards the aisle. Dominator arranges it so that it goes from barricade to barricade. He LIGHTS IT ON FIRE! Yukio is now in his sights as he has begun to find his bearings. Dominator hits him with a kidney punch. Yukio slowly turns against the ropes, hurting, bloodied, and looking damn near out of it. Dominator buries his shoulder deep into his torso for good measure. He then ties his arms up in the ropes, preventing those from getting used. Dominator runs the ropes (including the ones tying up Hiroshi) as he gains as much steam as possible. On the last rebound...a devastating FORCE OF TIME BREAKS THE ROPES! YUKIO IS GORED THOUGH THE FLAMING ANNOUNCE TABLE!!! It completely breaks in half. PCW medical staff on standby are right there to put out the flames as once more, the two behemoths writhe in pain.
HOLY SHIT!
HOLY SHIT!
HOLY SHIT!
It is longer than ten minutes before either man sees the inside of a loose roped ring again. But they make it there. Dominator has spread some thumbtacks because why the hell not? You only live once after all. Yukio is yanked to his feet. He fires off shot after shot wherever he can, but is forearm smashed and pulled right into Anachronism on the tacks! Yukio’s legs are hooked for the pin.
1!
2!
3!
Breaking Benjamin’s “Evil Angel” echoes throughout the arena once more as Dominator SLOWLY stands tall.
Sasha Greene: Here is the winner of the match and STILL PCW Underground Champion, Dominator!
The champion is down to a knee as his battered, bruised, and bloody body shows the battle scars of the division. Dominator clutches his title in his large right hand. He went through hell to retain. What awaits Johnny Matthews may redefine the very definition.
- CLICK -