****
We return from commercial backstage in a very stately looking office.
An American flag is stationed in one corner, while a PCW flag is placed strategically in another. Isabella Alexis is standing in front of the camera, arms behind her back as she clears her throat authoritatively. 'Ladies and gentlemen of Pure Class Wrestling. THIS ... is a State of the Union address.’ She smiles and slips off to the right of the camera, revealing Patrick Gregory Brooks in all his glory ... very fashionable looking suit and all. He smiles wide for the camera, looking every bit the President.
'Good evening. Tonight, I’m here before you to discuss a serious matter. Our opening contest of this evening, Cory Steel facing off against Maize ... was hijacked by terrorists!’ Isabella Alexis moves into the shot and whispers into Mr. President’s ear for a few seconds.
‘Terrorists! Al-Qaida! Flying planes into our --’ Isabella shakes her head as she continues to whisper into Brooks’ ear. He nods, seemingly comprehending what she’s saying and looking rather confused as she backs out of the shot again.
‘... that is to say, our opening contest never happened because these two men just could not wait for the match to officially start. It’s simple. If you can’t get the job done bell to bell, then your services are not required. But I’m a fair man, a man of the people. Maize, Cory Steel? You have both been placed on probationary suspension. Not only did you fail to follow accepted protocol, but there was ... for a time ... a very REAL and SERIOUS danger to our fans in attendance. I will not allow this, I will not accept this. If you decide you can abide by the laws of this great land, Pure Class Wrestling, then you’re more than welcome to re-apply for active status.’
Straightening his tie, Brooks shifts in his chair comfortably and continues on.
‘Let this be a lesson to ALL talent in our locker room. Any infraction of the stated rules WILL be handled in a manner appropriate with the severity of the infraction. There are wars to be waged in that ring. Key words: IN THAT RING. Bell-to-bell, you make your own choices and you decide whether or not a loss is worth getting your petty ‘revenge’. Outside the ring is a WHOLE different matter and will be dealt with accordingly.’
‘
Thank you, and God Bless this great nation.’‘ ... I still think Al-Qaida had something to do with it ... ‘
****
Match Three
Tag Team Match
The Flying Freebooters vs. ‘Dollface’ Kelli Starr & Nathan Saniti
Referee: Marcos Cruz
An unfamiliar song plays over the speaker system. The staccato notes segue into a very lovely female vocalist, ‘
Happy Violence’ by
Dada Life sounding out and filling the arena. Nathan Saniti and Kelli Starr make their way out from the back, their footsteps oddly in sync with the thrumming bass and arms locked as Nathan escorts Kelli like a TRUE gentleman towards the ring.
As they reach the ring, Kelli slides in and hops onto a turnbuckle ... motioning to the fans and getting them riled up while Nathan gently ascends the ringside steps and wipes his feet on the apron before entering the ring. The pair move to the far side of the ring to begin talking strategy as ...
‘Hollow’ by
Alice in Chains breaks the happy tune. 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, sometimes they will interact with the fans, usually mouthing off to them, or the Freebooter's favourite, flipping them the bird. Both men climb up the stairs, and climb to the turnbuckles horizontally across from each other. They either point at their opponents already in the ring and stare them down ... if looks could kill, man.
They hop down into the ring and begin going over the match in their own right, both teams deciding to send in as the inaugural ambassadors for the contest. It looks as though Nathan and Wasp are the ones to start off and ...
DING DING DING!
... the match is underway!
Nathan and Wasp circling the ring, the two actually slap hands as a show of mutual in-ring respect before locking up in the center of the ring. Wasp wrapping Nathan in a headlock, Nathan slips out from underneath by grabbing a wrist and moving nimbly behind Wasp in a hammerlock. Wasp reaching back, trying to free himself from the front ... he finds his results to be a failure and instead goes under. Grabbing hold of one of Nathan’s ankles, he yanks hard and pulls Nathan off his feet to the mat by tripping him up and dashing towards the ropes.
Nathan is on his stomach to avoid any sort of impact and Wasp deftly hops over him. Nathan nipping up as Wasp hits the second set of ropes, Nathan grabs Wasp on the rebound and hurls him for a THIRD time to the ropes. The momentum and velocity is unreal as Wasp comes flying off the ropes ... even faster than Nathan expected. Nathan expecting Wasp to go for a Stinger early, he scrunches his body to absorb as much impact or deflect the impact to his ribs and midsection outright. Consider it a major surprise when Wasp slams into Nathan full force with a shoulder block that instantly drops the cat in the Hat.
Wasp dropping onto Nathan with a lateral press, Nathan is out at one and Wasp is grinning a bit. Having gotten the better of that exchange, Wasp grabs Nathan by a few of the many lapels or fabrics that he can get his hands on and hurls him towards his home corner and tags High Tide in. Tide hopping over the ropes, he takes it to Nathan ... the pair of them laying into Nathan’s midsection with several well-placed shots. The referee breaking up the fracas, Tide is now firmly in control of Saniti.
Taking him to the center of the ring, he snapmares Nathan down to the mat and begins laying in the boots before hopping into the air and landing a beautiful elbow drop on the windpipe of Nathan Saniti. A quick pinfall attempt, followed by a two count, and Nathan is free to take his chances away from the onslaught. Slowly but surely, Nathan begins the long crawl towards his corner and saving grace in Kelli Starr. Getting very nearly there, Tide grabs the ankle of Saniti and begins slowly pulling back.
Nathan, however, is determined to make the tag and quickly gets to his free foot ... using the upwards momentum to twist his body and land a skull-cracking enzugiri. Tide is stunned and Nathan dives towards his corner.
TAG!
Kelli is in and bum-rushes Tide with a clothesline. Tide staggers back to his feet and is met with another heavy clothesline. A third time, Tide is up and Kelli lands a modified leg scissors takedown that brings Tide to his back for a bit longer this time. Nathan having not made it out of the ring yet, he’s still crawling to his corner ... all the eyes are FIRMLY focused on Kelli cleaning house as ...
Excuse me! I beg your pardon!
The audience looks at the top of ramp. Nathan Saniti stumbles out from behind the curtain, a horrified expression on his face and what looks like a trickle of blood running down his face from a gash in his forehead. All participants in the match stop what they are doing and join the audience in their gaze.
Nathan: I’m afraid that man there is NOT the man scheduled for this match!The referee and Kelli come over to the ropes to get a better look as the injured Nathan zig zags his way down the ramp. Kelli gets a worried look on her face as she slowly turns towards her tag partner. He holds a finger up to his mouth as he taps his hat where the pins normally would be. Kelli smirks a bit, then starts shouting at her tag partner.
The ref walks to their corner, asking him some questions. Nathan seems to stammer at the volley from both directions. The ref seems convinced that this Nathan is the wrong one. He’s sending him out! Nathan tries to plead his case, but neither Kelli nor the zebra are hearing it. Finally, Nathan concedes, grabbing his top as he heads up the ramp, his head lowered. The injured Nathan points up the ramp, screaming at him as he passes.
As the match resumes, the referee absolutely befuddled continues to monitor the action in ring, Kelli jumping into the ring to continue the attack ... hoping to get the jump on Tide. But Tide is ready and lays into her and stalls the blitzkrieg ... the pair trading blows back and forth. Kelli managing to get the drop on Tide through her quick feet and fluid reactions to his shots, she backs him into a neutral corner and begins laying heavy hands to him.
Realizing he’s slipping and losing the momentum, he shoves Kelli back away from him and slips from the ring to collect his bearings. As he begins to walk towards his corner on the outside, Kelli is up and over the top rope in a whirlwind of color ... landing a BEAUTIFUL diving plancha on High Tide! The crowd is on their feet as Kelli even manages to make it LOOK pretty and land on her feet to avoid the inevitable crash-and-burn scenario. Thrusting her fists into the air towards the crowd, she grabs Tide and throws him back into the ring to make the quick pinfall attempt.
1!
2!
... Wasp is in to break up the pinfall attempt at two, saving the match for his team.
Wasp is on the outside, attempting to rally Tide back into contendership when ... BOOM! There it is. A shove from Tide to Kelli sends the referee stumbling back into Kelli’s corner. Kelli moving off of the referee to avoid doing any inopportune harm ... LOW BLOW from Tide to Kelli. While Kelli has no naughty danglies to be struck, the impact is definitely enough to drop Kelli to her knees and then her side ... clutching herself in obvious agony. The crowd reacting with heavy jeers and boos, their voice is heard by none other than ...
Jule Martins?!
Wasp stepping in to knock some sense into Tide, the two begin to argue in mid-ring. The crowd fully behind Wasp as he begins poking a finger into the chest of High Tide. Tide pokes his digit right back at Wasp and the two go on and on for a bit before .... SHAKE SHAKE SHAKE! N. Saniti is in the ring to break the lover’s quarrel up! Running full steam into High Tide, he knocks Tide into Wasp who subsquently crashes into the turnbuckles violently. Shaking Tide’s head every which way, he looks sadistically pleased with himself as he offers his OWN low blow on a dazed High Tide.
Pulling Wasp from the ring as he goes, Nathan clears the ring save for the legal participants and Tide, who’s now clutching HIS danglies, is wrapped up by the still fallen Kelli Starr into a very tightly held small package!
1!
2!
...
3!!!
Winner(s): Kelli Starr and N. SanitiNathan and Kelli gather themselves into the center of the ring to celebrate after Nathan disposes of Wasp on the outside and kicking Tide out of the ring upon entry. Nathan raises Kelli’s hand in the air as her music hits. While she has her attention distracted, Nathan plucks a pin from his hat with full intentions of burying it deep in Kelli’s shoulder. Before he could, she spins around jabbing a pin of her own in Nathan’s shoulder. Nathan looks at her in complete shock. A sadistic grin overcomes her face as she buries another hatpin, then another, and another, all in various places of his body. Nathan staggers back to the corner, his eyes pleading in a way that would make a shelter animal jealous. Just then, a billow of purple smoke begins to rise in front of him. The crowd cheers wildly! As it dissipates, the other Nathan steps out holding a microphone in one hand and an antique wall mirror in the other.
Nathan: How does it feel to know that YOU have been duped? Hmmm? Miss Starr got a bit of retribution tonight for all of your misdeeds. However, you and I shall meet at Mass Destruction, and THAT’s where this mirror comes in, my dear other me. You and I both know that we cannot coexist in the same plane for very long. We shall have a very special match: a “Through the Looking Glass” Match, where the ring will be surrounded by thirteen mirrors. Whichever of us puts the other through the most mirrors shall be declared the winner, and the loser MUST leave this dimension. Forever.Nathan steps back and directs Kelli behind him. He raises the mirror above his head…
SMASH!
Nathan just shattered that mirror over the other Nathan’s head! Just to put the point on his exclamation, he drapes the now empty wood frame around the unconscious Nathan’s head. Nathan and Kelli exit the ring, satisfied that the bloodied double they left behind will take a lesson as well as accept the challenge.
****
****
We go backstage where High Tide and Jule Martin are discussing the outcome of their match with Kelli Starr and Nathan Saniti.
‘You see that, Wasp?! YOU SEE THAT?! That’s what we get when you try to get in my way and stop me from winning the match for us! I mean, LOOK at us! The last reigning Tag Team Champions and we look like a couple of rank AMATEURS out there! Where’s your stones?!’ Wasp is silent for the most part, but this last comment is enough to set the usually unflappable Martin off.
‘No stones? Brother, you have a LOT of nerve. I’ve been pretty quiet this whole time ... but YOU! You’re a joke! A Pirate, a VIKING ... what you ARE is a bottom-feeder! That’s right. You can’t SURVIVE on your own; you NEED ME! I don’t know about you, but I don’t need a win by cheating all the time. I ... WE ... can do it on our skill and talent in that ring. But YOU? It seems like you can’t win ONE MATCH without trying to do something under-handed. And not just that, but it BACKFIRES more than it works!’ Wasp is getting louder than he’s ever been, it looks like things have just been raised to a WHOLE different level. Tide is listening, but it’s obvious to everyone that he’s on the verge of erupting.
'The people out there paid hard earned money to see us COMPETE. Not to see us cheat them every single time. If it were ME in that audience, having to sit there and watch you steal a win and ruin a good match ALL the time? I’d wanna kick your damn teeth in. Moreso than I do right now. I’m willing to help you get the revenge we deserve on these peacocks ... but you’re gonna give me my due and you’re GONNA listen to me.’
Tide stares at Wasp for the longest time, mouth slightly agape at Wasp’s sudden outpouring of conscience and passion. And then ...
' .... RHAAAAAAAAAAAAAHR!’ Tide lunges at Wasp, wrapping his hands around Martins’ neck and trying to choke the very life out of him. Nearby onlookers that have gathered thanks to the increasingly hostile words and gestures are there soon to break up the fight before any real damage can be done. Tide is dragged away kicking and screaming, wildly screaming and calling for Wasp’s head while Wasp himself relaxes, staying put as we head back out to the ring for our next contest!
****
Match Four
Singles Match
‘The Asshole’ Whitey Ford vs. ‘Mr. Showtime’ Michael Wryght
Referee: Melina Cruz
"Gold on the Ceiling" by The Black Keys begins to blare over the P.A. system and the arena darkens. A single spotlight begins to shine on the entrance way illumination none other than “Mr. Showtime” Michael Wryght. Showtime slowly walks to the beat of the music as the only light in the arena follows him to the ring. He walks up the stairs and enters the ring solemnly. No fanfare, no reaction of any kind to the pyros that are going off around him. Hell, his usual robe is nowhere to be seen. It looks as though he hasn't shaved in a couple of days either. He's staring blankly at the entrance way when ...
The southern style guitars play over the PA system as strobe lights and the PCW-tron flash white light to the beat of the bass drum, Bobaflex's 'Bad Man' sounding out. When the music picks up a bit, Ford slowly walks out onto the stage, arms stretched out wide to embrace whatever reaction the crowd gives him; he's not there for their amusement, anyways. Whitey doesn't take his eyes off his opponent as he continues his slow route to the ring, arms still out by his sides. He climbs up the steel steps and vaults over the top rope, waiting in his corner patiently until he can go to work.
The bell rings and the two competitors meet in the center of the ring. Whitey Ford has an obnoxious smirk on his face while Showtime seems to be staring at nothing in particular. Suddenly, Showtime slugs Whitey in the side of the head with a stiff forearm. The attack catches Ford off guard. He takes a second to compose himself, but Showtime is on him almost immediately, unloading with a series of rights and lefts that back Whitey Ford into the corner. Showtime now places his forearm on Ford’s throat and starts choking him in the corner. Referee Melina Cruz calls for a clean break, but doesn’t get one as Showtime continues his attack. The referee starts a five count, but Showtime ignores it. Finally, the referee threatens Wryght with a disqualification, which ends the attack.
Showtime turns his attention to the referee now, enraged at the simple fact that she is enforcing the rules of this match. Whitey Ford takes a second to compose himself, but then he charges out of the corner and he hits Wryght with a dropkick to the back of the head. Showtime hits the mat and Whitey drops a leg onto his midsection. Ford then stands up and he pulls Wryght up to his feet. He then hits him with a suplex and goes for a cover. He only gets two.
Whitey Ford pulls Showtime up once more. Suddenly, Showtime explodes with a series of right and left hands that stagger Whitey Ford. Showtime now clotheslines Whitey Ford hard, sending him over the top rope and to the outside. Showtime quickly follows him to the floor. As Whitey Ford stands up, Michael Wryght grabs him and he throws him into the ringside barrier. Ford hits it hard and slumps down. Showtime then charges at him, hitting him with a running knee to the face and crushing his head between the barrier and his knee. Showtime now kneels down and he starts driving right hands into Whitey Ford’s forehead.
Showtime pulls Whitey Ford up and he throws him back into the ring. He follows him back inside. Showtime pulls Ford up, but suddenly Ford leaps up and he hits Wryght with an enziguri to the back of the head! Showtime hits the canvas with a thud.
Ford uses the ropes to get himself back to his feet. He looks down, sees that Showtime is still down on the mat and he quickly goes for another cover. Showtime kicks out at two. Whitey Ford pulls Showtime up, only to send him down to the mat with a scoop slam. Ford now climbs to the middle ropes and he leaps off with a flying axe handle.
Ford pulls Wryght up and he Irish whips him into the corner. Wryght staggers out of the corner and Ford hits him with a running clothesline. He then pulls him back up and sets him up for a suplex. Showtime blocks it. He then drives his elbow into Whitey Ford’s side, breaking Ford’s grip on him. Showtime now kicks Ford in the stomach, doubling him over. He then drives the point of his elbow into the back of Ford’s head, sending him down to the mat. Showtime goes for a cover but Ford kicks out at two.
Showtime now stays on top of Ford and he drives his elbow into the side of Ford’s head. And again. And again. And again. Showtime stands up now, but he quickly drops back down hitting Ford with a knee. And another knee. And another knee. Showtime now mounts Ford and he starts to unload on him with right hands to the head. The referee breaks up the attack and Showtime nearly strikes her in a rage.
Michael Wryght pulls Whitey Ford up and he throws him into the corner. He then charges into the corner, hitting Ford with a vicious elbow to the face. Ford is slumped over in the corner. Wryght pulls him out of the corner by his hair and he hits him with a DDT. Wryght now mounts him once again and starts unloading with right hands. Again, the referee has to intervene.
Showtime stands up now and he pulls Whitey Ford back to his feet. He sets him up and delivers another strong DDT, sending Ford down to the mat once more. Showtime goes for the cover now and gets the three count and the win.
Winner: Michael WryghtShowtime removes himself from the cover and, instead of celebrating a well-earned victory over a tough opponent, simply rolls out of the ring and heads towards the back ... leaving the commentary team to speculate as we head to an ad from our sponsors.
****
****
Match Five
Non-Title Singles Match
Murdoc (North American Champion) vs. ‘The British Lion’ Tyler Scott
Referee: Nolan Burke
Can you feel it coming? Can you feel it coming?“
Switchblade Smiles” by
Kasabian gradually rises in volume to announce the arrival of the next superstar. The lights dim and flicker as the crowd react in various manners. The atmosphere is intense as not one fan reacts indifferently. However, what is clear is that the boos outweigh the cheers as images of Tyler Scott flash on the big screen.
Move back this wrecking ball,
Rips through the blackest hole,
Violence is coming. It's coming. It's coming
Tyler Scott appears from the curtain, a steely and focused expression across his face. He pauses and takes a moment to adjust the strapping around his wrists. A quick turn of the wrist and crack of the knuckles and Tyler continues his descent down the ramp.
He heads to the ring, climbs through the ropes and walks to the center where he stands and stares intensely into the crowd. He mouths a few obscenities, possibly as provocation to the fans, possibly as encouragement to himself, before beginning his few warm up moves, awaiting the start of the upcoming contest.
The crowd’s noise lapses into a wave of hushed murmurs as
Audiomachine’s “
Xerxes” kicks in over the PCW loudspeakers. The steady thump of the bass fills the arena like a heartbeat. And it's on one of these thumps that the lights go out, plunging the crowd into total darkness with a complete blackout as the music continues it’s relentless march. A blackout that can only mean ONE thing...
BOOM!!
...the final pulse of bass explodes and the lights flash back on to find Murdoc standing in the ring! Turning to his immediate left, he goes to one of the far corners to remove his entrance robe and begins stretching out in anticipation for the start of the match.
Scott stands with his arms crossed, staring at Murdoc before walking across the ring, glaring defiantly up into the metal mask. A solid half foot shorter than the North American champion, and nearly 100lbs of muscle lighter, Scott seems unperturbed by the size differential as he pokes one finger into Murdoc’s broad chest. The camera pans in but only manages to catch the last bit of Scott’s sneering words;
“- with Eira.”
Without so much as a split second’s hesitation, Murdoc lashes out with a big right hand, Tyler ducking easily under the abrupt swing. Nolan Burke wisely backs away, signaling for the bell, and the match begins!
Scott goes on the immediate offensive to counteract Murdoc’s abrupt start, a series of rapid fire, unpredictably assorted strikes knocking the larger man off balance just enough to gain some leverage, Tyler capitalizing on it by whipping Murdoc into the ropes. On the rebound Scott ducks his head but a moment too early - Murdoc lifting his boot directly into the face of his opponent! Scott reacts just quickly enough to take the brunt of the blow more safely on his skull rather than risking a shattered nose - but still staggers back from the powerful attack! A vindictive smirk on his face, Scott can be seen pointing and yelling at Murdoc, Eira’s name heard at volume. Murdoc wastes no time in pressing the offense, locking up his mouthy, disoriented opponent and nailing him with a Snap Suplex in the middle of the ring. Not content with just one, Murdoc rolls through and hammers in another. Still not satisfied, Murdoc rolls back to his feet a third time and hauls Scott high into the air but “The British Lion" lashes out with a powerful kick and struggles free, landing behind Murdoc! Scrambling for a bit of distance, he meets the turning Murdoc with a savage roundhouse kick to the head, dropping him to the mat before rolling him up into a pinning predicament!
...1!
...2!
- not yet!
Murdoc gets his shoulder up, rising slowly to his feet as he shakes off the cobwebs of the vicious blow to the head. Scott rushes him again to press the early advantage, leaning down and pulling him to his feet, letting loose with a volley of elbows. Murdoc tries to recover but Scott, driven by what force no one could guess, hits the ropes and nails a mean flying clothesline to the belly of the beast! Scott pulls Murdoc up but gets lifted up onto the larger man’s shoulders with no warning, Murdoc going for an Over The Shoulder DDT but there’s yet another reversal as Scott lands on his feet and rolls Murdoc up into a small package!
...1!
...2!
..- !?
The referee is about to finish the count when - Tyler releases Murdoc?! He rolls off the large man, breaking his own count just as the PCWTron flickers to life, grabbing Murdoc by the hair and lifting his head up to see the screen. A camera feed making it’s sneaky way through the back halls, the entire crowd confused as Murdoc swats Tyler away with one swipe of a powerful mitt, and slowly rises to his feet. Eyes fixed on the screen, Murdoc watches with everyone else as the camera comes across a couple in one of the more deserted hallways of the PCW Arena - and the crowd lets out a mixed gasp of surprise and shock! A burly security guard has his arms around and hands busy with a slender woman whose back is to the camera - but perfectly visible is waist length white hair! The camera pans in, the guard lifting his head just enough for the crowd to see the beatific smile on his face, smeared with dark red lipstick.
Is it? Surely not!
If the shine of fluorescent lighting in the low-grade plastics of the wig weren’t clue enough, the vapid feminine giggling was more than enough to give away the deception. However, the intent behind the artifice remained more than clear. As Murdoc stares, motionless, at the images on the PCWTron, Scott comes up behind him with an expression of mock sympathy to pat the masked demon on the shoulder in patronizing commiseration.
The snap of ozone in the air.
Murdoc’s hand snaps up and locks around Scott’s wrist, a quick step later and “The British Lion” is caught with his arm wrenched painfully up and behind his back, an audible ‘pop’ echoing through the arena! Scott drops to his knees, Murdoc planting a big boot into Scott’s back and releasing the injured arm, sending Tyler sprawling. Reaching down with one large hand, he locks onto Tyler’s skull with The Beginning! The unforgiving Iron Claw hold, dragging Scott to his feet! Not do be subdued, Scott grins up at Murdoc. A broken, bitter, hateful expression no sane person would consider a smile, and Scott’s mouth can be seen forming one last message the mics aren’t close enough to pick up - but it reaches its intended audience.
Muscles bunching and shifting, Murdoc clamps one hand around Scott’s throat, the other planted directly on Scott’s face! A flash of flame, an involuntary scream - The End! Burke signals for the bell to end the match, PCW medical personnel already on their way to the ring, a camera panning in on Scott’s face catching the shiny red gleam of burned skin!
Winner: Tyler “The British Lion” Scott via Disqualification Murdoc slips away through the influx of arena staff, his quiet departure something of a surprise to the crowd until they see Eira standing at the top of the ramp waiting for him. The two stand arm in arm, impassively watching “The British Lion” rising with assistance as the feed goes to commercial.