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LPW SuperCycle LIVE! From the Verizon Center in Washington D.C.! RESULTS!

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  • LPW SuperCycle LIVE! From the Verizon Center in Washington D.C.! RESULTS!

    [Re-post Edit: this is 26.2]

    Originally posted by Joe
    We flick to a hallway where Jonathan Crotchman is seen looking over the shoulder of another staff member, chuckling at a video they are watching on a phone.

    Crotchman: Oh man this is great footage. Where did you get this? Actually I don’t wanna know. Just don’t show it to…

    Suddenly a door bursts open at the end of the hallway and a lone figure can be seen silhouetted in the doorway.

    Crotchman: Quick, put that away.

    As the figure shuffles closer the door closes behind and recognition dawns on the LPW staff just as Jonathan Crotchman turns and yells at his camera crew to start filming.

    Crotchman: Hey Joe! Can I get a few minutes?

    Joe Citizen barely acknowledges the question as he continues shuffling up the hallway and on past the camera. Not to be deterred Crotchman follows along, grabbing the phone off the staffer on his way, he hurries past Joe and then stops so that he is blocking the hallway and presses play on the phone. Joe for his part does not halt, but Crotchman is quick enough to back up as he holds the phone in front of Joe’s face.

    The camera zooms in on the grainy image of Joe Citizen pulling into the undercover parking at the arena, bumping into two parked cars before pulling up in the prime spot right outside the elevators. The last thing we see on the phone is a close up of a sign that reads “Reserved: C G Smitten”, now at an awkward angle bent under the front bumper of Joe’s car.

    Crotchman: Do you have anything to say about this footage?

    Joe stops dead, his focus somewhere off in the distance and now that they have stopped moving the camera takes in his appearance. His mask is slightly torn down one side and the knuckles on both hands are swollen and bloody. Slowly he turns his head towards Jonathan as if noticing him for the first time.

    Joe: What footage?

    Crotchman: What do you mean “What footage?” ? This is clearly you parking in the bosses spot. Are you trying to send a message or something?

    Joe: What? Man I don’t think I even drove here tonight. Or did I? Whatever man, who cares anyway.

    Crotchman: Ahhh, I know one person who will most definitely give a damn.

    Joe: Good, why don’t you go waste their time then? If you hadn’t noticed I’m about to go hurt someone. I suggest you step out of my way unless you want to get in on the action?

    Crotchman raises his hand and steps to one side, letting Joe pass by on his way to the match. As he moves into the distance he shouts out one more question.

    Crotchman: Anyone in particular?

    Joe: If I’m lucky... myself.

    A perplexed Jonathan Crotchman turns back to his crew and hands the phone back to its owner.

    Crotchman: C’mon we need to go hand this in before someone else does. Apparently Joe doesn’t care but I know one man who sure as hell will.


    Rise up, gather round, rock this place to the ground

    Burn it up, let’s go for broke, watch the night go up in smoke

    Rock on! Rock on!

    Drive me crazier

    No Serenade, no fire brigade, just Pyromania!!

    and Insanity

    Come inside now, I implore.
    Do you think you can restore
    The crucial pieces missing from my brain?
    What seems to be the matter dear?
    Why do you cry and shake with fear?
    I've only had the best dub me insane.
    Please let me out
    Please let me out
    Please let me…


    LPW SuperCycle

    LIVE! From the Verizon Center in Washington D.C.!

    Pyrotechnics go off as the camera pans to an excited crowd.

    Phoenix: We are live from the nation's capital. A new day has arrived in the United States and possibly in the world of LPW! It is I, Blazing Phoenix. With me is my broadcast colleague, Robert Lillehammer. Tonight, Bobino gets his shot.

    Lillehammer: HE WAS SCREWED! Bobino was screwed out of his Hardcore Championship. Tonight, he gets to send that rat Al back to the gutter where he belongs.

    Phoenix: That’s not all, the Western States Heritage Championship will also be contested when champion “Rōnin” Mourn Despana faces off against upstart “The Crippled Crusader” Chris Paradise.

    Lillehammer: Enyo will have a title tonight to add to the list of things she takes care of. I love it.

    Phoenix: That and so much more. We will start the evening with finding out who the number one contender to the Hardcore Championship is.

    “Black" by The Enigma TNG starts to play across the speakers, as out from the back comes the LPW Hardcore Champion David Gideon Smith. Emotionless, he walks slowly and confidently to the announce table. He grabs an empty seat beside Lillehammer and sits down.

    Lillehammer: What an honor to have David Gideon Smith on commentary with us tonight! Tell us more, champion, who is your favourite to win the battle royale?

    DGS:.... (Stares intently at the ring)

    Phoenix: … David, the fans from home would love to hear from you.

    DGS smirks at Phoenix, shakes his head and walks away to a chair by ringside.

    Phoenix: That’s a warm greeting from our Hardcore champion.

    Lillehammer: He is smart to scout the competition.

    Ring Announcer: Ladies and gentlemen the next match is our Weapons Encouraged Battle Royale to determine the #1 contender for the Hardcore Championship!!! If any of the competitors goes over the top rope and both feet touch the ground, he or she WILL BE ELIMINATED!

    “Suicide Note Pt 2” by Pantera starts to play across the speakers as Trey Spruance makes his way out of the back, and towards the ring. Trey was pushing a trolley full of weapons, his eyes tired but determined. He eyes off a sign that says in big, bold letters: “THIS IS DC!”

    Phoenix: Trey fights hard, but he never got his big break.

    Lillehammer: Sometimes that’s what you are born to be. A self destructive loser with a shopping cart full of toys. The cart is parked by ringside and anyone can reach inside from the bottom rope, which may backfire on the idiot.

    Phoenix: Trey is just ensuring that his weapons are close at hand. He may not be winning all the time but he’s tough as nails, and his veteran experience will count tonight.

    “No Control” by David Bowie starts to play across the speakers. The David Maverick races right to the ring, quickly getting right into the face of Trey Spruance.

    Phoenix: Both men are from England! Is he holding what I think he is holding?

    Lillehammer: HAHA! A giant 5 foot baguette with generous servings of what I believe is turkey ham! This is glorious!

    "Never Learn Not to Love" by The Beach Boys starts to play, as Caeser Orisis makes his way down the ramp, and towards the ring. He carries a black leather briefcase in his right hand. Maverick starts to turn his attention to him, but Caeser just puts his hand right up to Maverick’s face.

    Phoenix: He looks ready to do business, not just for this match but also the tag match with Bronx later tonight.

    "Feel The Pain" - Dinosaur Jr. starts to play, as a very angry Joe Citizen makes his way down the ramp, and into the ring. He was holding a candelabra, a solid wrought iron construction with no sharp edges.

    Phoenix: I haven’t seen Joe that angry before. What a unique weapon choice as well.

    Lillehammer: Right you are. He’s gripping the candelabra so tightly, his knuckles are turning white. And is that dried blood on the thing?

    Phoenix: Now that you mention it, it does look like blood.

    "Abel" by Full Of Hell/The Body starts to play as Marlon Verity makes his way down the ramp, and towards the ring. Verity raises his hands as he passes the fans, avoiding them.

    Lillehammer: Marlon Verity is a new sucker comin’ into his first match in LPW, and he missed the memo! He brought no weapons into this match, he’s as good as dead.

    Phoenix: I am calling him the wild card. You never know how good newcomers are until they hit the ring.

    "For Your Malice" by Lamb Of God starts to play across the speakers, as the fans get on their feet cheering. Novacain emerges from the curtain, his face stern and hard as he strolls into the ring, screaming “WELCOME TO THE NEW REALITY!” at the fans.

    Lillehammer: Look at that, Phoenix. Steven Thornridge is going all hardcore tonight! A cricket bat wrapped in barb wire! Never knew he had it in him.

    Phoenix: I feel a very different attitude and vibe from TAC. Matthew Kazama will do well to observe Thornridge in this match as they face off later on tonight. The Aussie Crusader has been a great competitor thus far in his career, and tonight, I am backing him as my favourite.

    The bell rings and Thornridge makes a beeline towards Caeser, who slides out of the ring, and Maverick follows him. They brawl outside of the ring. Meanwhile, Verity, Joe and Trey exchange blows with each other in the middle of the ring.

    Phoenix: The match is starting hot on the outside! Thornridge is going straight for Caeser who has been antagonising him all week!

    Lillehammer: The barbaric Thornridge, with evil intentions, swings his barb wired bat at Caeser!

    Phoenix: Caeser raises his briefcase to block the attack. Never knew it can be used defensively.

    Lillehammer: He’s a smart guy I tell you. Maverick jumps on Thornridge from behind with his turkey baguette! Didn't take long for Caeser and Maverick to double team on Thornridge. A sandwich shot to the face and the damn turkey ham flying everywhere! What a waste of food.

    Back in the ring, Verity runs the rope and hit a dropkick on both Joe and Trey.

    Phoenix: High velocity dropkick by our debutant, Verity, and both men are down. Verity picking up Joe’s candelabra and attempts to hit Joe with it. Counter by Joe with a huge boot to the face!

    Lillehammer: Joe swings the candelabra right into the skull of Verity. What a shot! Trey gets nailed as well and down he goes! Thornridge is down on the outside as both Caeser and Maverick looks to get back in the ring. The Aussie is just useless!

    Phoenix: Joe seems really motivated tonight. Caeser misses with a right hand and Joe with a clubbing shot! Down goes Caeser, rolling out the ring from under the ropes. That will leave a mark on his skull. Watch out Joe!

    Lillehammer: Joe turns in time to avoid a super kick from Maverick and again, Joe slams his weapon into the head. Thornridge rushing in from behind but Joe swings it at his feet and down goes the Aussie! A big shot to the abdomen of Thornridge, taking his air out. Joe is on fire!

    Phoenix: Trey is now on his feet, running the ropes. A hurricanrana on Maverick, who also rolls to the outside. Joe swinging the candelabra at Trey and missed! Trey counters with a dropkick, carries Joe by the back and OH! A belly to back suplex right on the candelabra! Look at the red marks across Joe’s back!

    Lillehammer: Trey will still find a way to self destruct, I tell ya.

    Phoenix: I think he’s doing fine now. Trey signals to the crowd and reaches across the outside into the cart! Trey grabs a beer bottle! Turning around and smash! The bottle broke all over the skull of Thornridge! The only ones left standing in the ring are Verity and Trey. Joe’s still laying on the ring mat.

    Verity draws a silvered, rectangular object from his pocket.

    Lillehammer: oh my, Verity just took out a switchblade! Trey avoids the weapon as Verity swings it towards him. Verity charges and OH! A cut across his forehead! Blood is flying everywhere. The new guy is in charge now!

    Phoenix: Verity is going up the top turnbuckle! He seems ready to jump on Trey!

    Lillehammer: No, he’s pointing outside at Maverick and Caeser! What an idiot, he will get himself eliminated!

    Verity jumps from the top turnbuckle, only to land on the ring apron, laughing out loud at the crowd and pointing a finger at his temple.

    Lillehammer: He’s just playing mind games and mocking the crowd who thought he’s going to fly. I am starting to love this guy!

    Phoenix: Looks like your guy is going down! Trey is up, still bleeding and a big dropkick to Verity on the apron! Verity is still hanging on for dear life!

    Joe Citizen takes his candelabra and runs the rope.

    Lillehammer: NO NO! Verity! Watch out! What velocity!

    Joe dive through the ropes and spears Verity from the apron to the outside, hitting both Maverick and Caeser to the ground, eliminating Verity.

    Phoenix: First elimination of the bout and Marlon Verity is out! Joe sacrificed his own body by spearing Verity off the apron.

    Lillehammer: So much for showing off.

    Back in the ring, Trey is still dyeing the ring red with his blood, as Thornridge stomps on him in the corner.

    Phoenix: Trey is looking very weak now. Meanwhile, on the outside, Caeser readies himself with the briefcase and smashes Joe right on the face. Caeser putting the briefcase across Joe’s head. Running leg drop on on the briefcase! What a sickening thud!

    Lillehammer: That’s the viciousness I know is needed in a Hardcore champion. Caeser is doing right.

    Phoenix: Both Caeser and Maverick got back in the ring. The 2 are teaming up again! Trey still motionless in the corner, his head covered in blood. Both men are pelting The Aussie Crusader with fists. Double suplex on Thornridge! Maverick and Caeser are enjoying the Phoenix of their team work.

    Lillehammer: David Maverick is a sick man. He just pulled a table into the ring. One is not enough! Caeser pulls another table into the ring with evil intentions. The tables are placed side by side in the middle of the ring!

    The fans are up on their feet in anticipation.

    Phoenix: He puts Joe on the top turnbuckle, and looks like the world will crash and burn on Joe Citizen!

    Maverick and Caeser readies themselves for a double suplex on Joe from the top turnbuckle onto the tables. Trey and Thornridge got on their feet just in time, and puts Maverick and Caeser in a doomsday device position on their shoulders.

    Phoenix: Oh no, this doesn’t look good! OMG! What a car wreck!

    Lillehammer: All the men were driven through the tables! Joe Citizen must have been broken in half.

    The fans started chanting “Holy shit! Holy shit!”

    Phoenix: Thornridge and Trey got the least damage, and they are up on their feet. Exchanging blows now, and Trey looks weaker by every second his head is still bleeding.

    Lillehammer: Thornridge spins around and hit a huge rolling elbow on Trey’s open wound! Thornridge lets out a loud primal scream. Typical savage aborigines.

    Phoenix: TAC is hardcore tonight! He picks up the barb-wired cricket bat. Both Maverick and Caeser are up on their feet, and TAC with the bat right to the head! Down goes Maverick, and down goes Caeser.

    Lillehammer: The savage is going on top with his cricket bat. I can't watch the vile creature… A diving elbow with the bat right on Caeser’s body!

    Phoenix: And Maverick came from nowhere! He just clothesline Thornridge OVER THE TOP ROPE! Thornridge is holding on for dear life!

    Lillehammer: Get that Aussie! Do it!

    Phoenix: A dropkick and DOWN GOES Thornridge! Oh! He is still holding on to the bottom rope!

    As Maverick is distracted by Thornridge, Joe Citizen sneaks up on Maverick and tips him over, eliminating Maverick from nowhere. Joe then slumps back to the ground.

    Lillehammer: What a cheat! Joe just threw Maverick out from nowhere. We are down to 4 men.

    Phoenix: Joe is showing great heart, still in this match after going through the tables. Caeser is up with his briefcase. Swing straight into Trey’s bloodied face! Caeser signals to the crowd as Joe gets on his feet. Hail Caeser on Joe on to the briefcase!!!!

    Lillehammer: Get them, Caeser! All hail Caeser the king. Joe might as well be dead. Thornridge is up! The Aussie has been getting on Caeser’s nerves for weeks! Get him!

    Caeser swings his briefcase at Thornridge, but Thornridge ducks and smashes the cricket bat into his face.

    Phoenix: What an amazing comeback by Thornridge. He’s reaching into his pockets for something….

    The crowd is screaming in delight.

    Lillehammer: WHAT A SAVAGE! THUMB TACKS on the ground! Disgusting sick excuse of a human being.

    Phoenix: Thornridge is grabbing Caeser’s back for a german suplex on the thumbtacks. But Caeser breaks the hold and rushes behind TAC! He is lifting Thornridge up! Are they going to land on the thumbtacks?

    Lillehammer: No! The Aussie coward runs towards the rope! Both men are catapulted over the top rope and holding on for dear life!

    As both men stand precariously on the ring apron, Caeser steps forward and slaps Thornridge on the face.

    Lillehammer: YES! YES! Slap that weasel’s head off.

    Phoenix: TAC is furious! He returns the favor with a tight slap to the chin! Both men now slapping each other on the ring apron. The fans are on their feet!

    The fans scream “YES” when Thornridge slaps Caeser, and screams “NO” when Caeser returns the slaps.

    Phoenix: Both men could fall off any moment. A clubbing right fist by Thornridge! Caeser is still hanging on.

    Thornridge screams a primal scream and both men charge toward each other, both extending their arms for a lariat.

    Lillehammer: Oh my! Both men hitting hard with lariats and FALLING TO THE OUTSIDE! BOTH MEN ARE ELIMINATED!

    Phoenix: I don’t think we will see the end of the Aussie and Caeser. We are down to 2 men. Joe and Trey.

    Both men are hugging each other as they try to pull themselves up on their feet.

    Phoenix: Both men are bloodied and tired, but still exchanging stiff right hands. WHAT A SLAP ACROSS JOE’S FACE! Joe gets fired up! Rolling elbow into Trey’s forehead! The wound is reopened and blood is gushing all over.

    Lillehammer: Yucks! But wait! Trey is fired up! He spins around and nails a running elbow into Joe’s head, what a thud! Trey with a german suplex on Joe! Trey rolls through and locks in a boston crab on Joe! His back must be breaking right now, but this match has no submission.

    Phoenix: Joe is crawling to the ropes, and he reaches out, but there is no break. TREY’s CART! Joe is reaching for the cart which is near the bottom rope, screaming in agony…

    Lillehammer: Told you that Trey’s plan will backfire!

    Phoenix: Joe reaches into the cart and pulls out a kendo stick! Trey refusing to let go of the Boston crab as Joe arches his arms backwards desperately with the kendo stick and hitting Trey across the back of the head!

    Lillehammer: The hold is broken! Joe turns around on the ground and hits the kendo stick across Trey’s head! Joe going for a second swing but Trey ducks. Trey with a standing senton! He lifts Joe near the ropes, with a belly to back hold!

    Phoenix: Trey THROWS Joe over the top rope to the outside! JOE JUMPS ON THE CART! HE IS NOT ELIMINATED!

    Lillehammer: Trey slumps to the floor, maybe he thought he won. What an imbecile.

    Phoenix: Joe jumps back into the ring, and a kick to the face of Trey. Joe using every last ounce of his energy to lift Trey up. He points to the thumbtacks!

    Lillehammer: This will be devastating. Can't believe the the fans are urging him on. I can't watch!

    Phoenix: Can Joe pull the trigger on Trey? Yes HE DID! POWERBOMB ON THE THUMBTACKS! OMG! Trey is destroyed like a pincushion! He’s out of it.

    Lillehammer: That's the understatement of the year.

    Phoenix: Joe now using all his strength! Slowly pushing Trey against the ropes….. And it’s over…. Trey is eliminated.

    The bell rings as "Feel The Pain" by Dinosaur Jr. plays.

    Lillehammer: What a match, even DGS looks impressed.

    As Joe slumps in the ring, DGS stands up on the announce table, mockingly clapping his hands at Joe. He then lifts up his Hardcore title and smirks towards Joe Citizen.

    Phoenix: One thing is for sure. Tonight, Joe Citizen proved himself as hardcore as any LPW wrestler. What a Herculean effort from all the competitors.

    Lillehammer: Even Trey Spruance impressed me tonight, even as he self destructed again.
    Last edited by Macho Mourn; 05-13-2018, 01:59 AM.

    “How great the tremors will be when the judge comes."

  • #2

    “This man has championship potential IF Pigs can fly.”

    “We may be looking at a future champion, he’s the model of a good rookie.”

    “The man can’t even beat Steve Monroe, or Kafudamaha on his best day.”

    “Joe Michaels has pinned PEN15!”

    “Next week, I come home to LPW, next week I raise my flag and restore my Revelation to this company, next week I end that inconsistency, next week my road is restored. My name is Joe Michaels.”

    PA Announcer: The following contest is scheduled for one fall.

    The crowd erupts with cheers as the familiar tune of "Trembling Hands" by The Temper Trap leads a battered Steven Thornridge out from the back.

    Announcer: Making his way down the aisle, From Perth Australia. weighing in at 223 lbs, The Aussie Crusader, STEVEN THOOOORNRIIIDGE!

    Phoenix: The lovable and popular Steven Thornridge is making his way down the aisle. Tonight will be an interesting test for both competitors.

    Lillehammer: The American wil win. Have I mentioned today how much I hate hotdogs?

    Phoenix: But. I thought you lo-

    Lillehammer: Thornridge has ruined them for me.

    Phoenix: Thornridge looking a little beaten up after competing in the weapons encouraged battle royale to start the show.

    Thornridge, still smiles, gingerly enters the ring.

    Announcer: And his opponent.

    The arena blacks out with only dim blue lighting glowing around the titantron. A figure is seen moving from behind the black curtain to center stage as a hymn accompanied with lyrics pierces the silence.

    "I can feel the shadows creeping in my mind. Don't close your eyes!"

    The synthesizer from "Not Gonna Die" by Skillet reverberates through the arena as the lights kick back with Matthew “Silver” Kazama marching into the arena to a mixed reaction.

    Announcer: And his opponent. From New Orleans Louisiana. Weighing in at 215 lbs. MATTHEW “SIIILVER” KAAAZAAAMAAA!

    Phoenix: What an entrance by one of our newest member to the LPW roster.

    Lillehammer: I already like the man. He helped Osiris take out those two Limeys.

    Phoenix: Ozzy isn’t from Britain.

    Lillehammer: He is if he confides in those unpatriotic cretins. Maybe we should have our president answer on the subject.

    Phoenix: Be that as it may, or may not be, Kazama has entered LPW and will be facing Steven Thornridge, along with Bronx when he teams with Caesar Osiris at the next supershow to find out the number one contenders to the Tag Team Championships. . Here tonight,he makes his singles debut.


    Both men nod to one another and reach in to shake each other’s hands to a respectful clap from the crowd.

    Lillehammer: I hate this Kizama guy now.

    Phoenix: We are under away with what looks like to be a respectful match-up. Collar-elbow tie up. Thornridge backing Kazama to the corner. Ref to 2 and Thornridge backs up. Both men now keeping their space, searching for openings. Another, no, go behind by Kizama. Thornridge free and powers into a side headlock.

    Lillehammer: SOMEONE HIT SOMEONE!

    Phoenix: Kazama sends Thornridge into the ropes, Shoulder block knocks down Kazama. Thornridge off the ropes, Kazama drops down…

    As Thornridge bounces off the ropes a second time, Kazama sets up for a leapfrog. When doing so, TAC puts on the breaks right in front of him.

    Phoenix: Thornridge putting on the breaks, right back into the headlock… Bulldog by Thornridge. Cover, Silver out before one.

    Lillehammer: Thornridge using wits?

    Thornridge slips Kazama into an arm lock.

    Phoenix: He has indeed been expanding his game. Kazama nips up and reverses the wrist lock, Thornridge with a drop toehold, AN ANKLE LOCK BY THORN-

    As Thornridge gets a firm hold of the leg, Kazama starts tugging at at the grip. He then rolls with it, which propels TAC head first into the second turnbuckle.


    Lillehammer: Get him. For ‘Merica.

    Phoenix: Kazama charges, DROPKICK TO THE BACK OF TAC! Thornridge in the drop zone and I think Kazama’s noticed it. He’s going to the top…

    Lillehammer: Look at Thornridge one again using his ring awareness and rolling to the outside.

    Phoenix: But he isn’t out of range for Kazama, DIVING CROSS BODY ONTO THORNRIDGE!

    Lillehammer: Keep on him you idiot. Stop playing to the crowd!

    Phoenix: Kazama Pulling up Thornridge and rolls him back into the ring. Kazama climbing to the top rope, DIVING CROSS BODY! 1… 2… nearfall by Kazama!

    Lillehammer: Aussies have hides of leather to combat wildlife.

    Phoenix: Kazama pulling Thornridge up by his head, jawbreaker by Thornridge!

    Lillehammer: Hard heads as well.

    Phoenix: Thornridge, Pendulum Backbreaker! He’s wasting no time, has Kazama by the legs, annnd… BOSTON CRAB!

    Lillehammer: Kazama going to let down a whole nation in the capital!

    Kazama starts fighting beck through Thornridge’s legs.

    Phoenix: Punches from underneath by Kazama. Thornridge lifts him up, POWER- HURRICANRANA BY KAZAMA!

    Lillehammer: SPIKED HIM!

    Phoenix: Kazama, Irish whip, Dropsault? No. TAC, JACKKNIFE COVER! 1… 2… NO! Kazama out the back door!

    Lillehammer: Thornridge fighting like he forgot something in the oven.

    Phoenix: Kazama has been the quicker of the two but Thornridge has been on his ball tonight. Both man up, hard right hand by Kazama!

    Lillehammer: YAY!

    Phoenix: Return fire from Thornridge.

    Lillehammer: BOO!

    Phoenix: A donnybrook has broken out between the two men. Kazama with a wild swing, THORNRIDGE WITH THE NECKBREAKER! Quick cover, 1… out at one by Kazama!

    Lillehammer: That aggressive swing almost cost Kazama there.

    Phoenix: TAC with a dragon sleeper in! Tremendous pressure on the neck of Kizama.

    Lillehammer: For the love of Reagan, don’t submit on American soil!

    Phoenix: Kazama with right hands to TAC’s temple. He breaks free, PELE KICK!

    Lillehammer: He almost knocked his head off!

    Phoenix: Thornridge in position.

    Lillehammer: And I think he’s catching on.

    Phoenix: Kazama once again heading to the top rope. He’s going for The Last Kazama! If he hits this… OH!

    Lillehammer: The Awful Crusader got his knees up!

    Phoenix: Kazama’s ribs! TAC, SMALL PACKAGE! 1! 2! 3!!!

    Lillehammer: The Aussie stole this match! How ironic.

    Announcer: The winner of this match, STEEVEN THOOORNRIIDGE!

    Thornridge: 3.89 + 1.0 = 4.89

    Kazama: 3.97 + 0.5 = 4.37

    As Thornridge gets his hand raised to the sounds of cheering fans and Temper Trap‘s "Trembling Hands", Kazama looks to the mat in disgust.

    Lillehammer: Kazama’s steaming. He’s gonna railroad that filthy… what is he doing!

    Phoenix: He’s offering him to shake his hand and they’ve done so. Kazama was simply a little too eager to end the match quickly. They face again at the next supershow on opposite teams for a chance to face the tag team champions Damian Blaze and Justus.

    Lillehammer: Kazama’s turned his back on America. He’ll be hearing from liberal America shortly. Next time, Osiris will make sure there is a different result.

    Phoenix: A professional victory for Steven Thornridge. We’ll be back in a moment.

    Crotchman: Thanks guys and welcome to my exclusive interview. It is I, Ace Interviewer, Jonathan Crotchman. With me at this time, in his first ever sit down interview, is the man who will later tonight defend his Western States Heritage Championship against Chris Paradise. Here is the #1 contender to the World Heavyweight Championship, The Desperado Mourn Despana.. Welcome.

    The camera cuts to the other chair where Mourn Despana smirks sheepishly as he reaches over and shakes the hand of Jonathan Crotchman.

    Despana: I… Thank you. That was a very nice introduction.

    Crotchman: Well, you are one of the more important guys on the pYromania roster.

    Despana: Please. Stop.

    Crotchman: Well, you are the Western States Heritage Champion?

    Despana: Indeed I am. Is Smitten in the production truck?

    Crotchman: Uh...

    Despana: I find it hilarious that the first time I do this, I do it across from you. A man who went to my buds for the scoop after I called out a champ. How a person I helped get hired here got pushed out of interviewing a pYromania talent.

    Crotchman: I’m only doing my job.

    Despana: You do a great one. I am honored to be here. Just, to be honest, I expected Rose and was hurt not seeing her here.

    Mourn’s face twists, failing to hide his disappointment. Crotchman nods, barely hiding an understanding sadness.

    Despana: Crotchman, I want to apologize. My tone is not directed at you. Frustration really. I… Go ahead.

    Crotchman: I asked you here to allow the fans to finally hear you. No one really knows you.

    Mourn sighs.

    Despana: I know... My shy nature gets in the way. But this… I’m never going to feel right about talking myself up. I like to let my actions do the talking. Anyone can wield a mic. It takes discipline to follow through with their creed.

    Crotchman: When you debuted, you talked a great deal about your mixed race heritage. Why did you bring that up to start?

    Despana: Oh... yes... the dark days...I came to LPW to shatter an illusion. Sure, it may be altruistic at times, nevertheless, my cause is pure. I just want to live in a world I am proud of. Currently? I work in a company where I can not endorse those “above” me. Very similar to the climate I see in America right now. Where words can be twisted to whatever propaganda the government wants.

    Crotchman: Understood.

    Despana: I live every day to be better than the sum of my parts. Nothing is handed to you. Live with the knowledge that the next fight could be your last. All cliches. But inside those words is where you find, me. I have a mission statement. I want to show people that if you are shy or quirky or act different than you look, or you feel like the world has been shit to you; you can accomplish great things if you fight for it. I am an American. We are in Washington D.C. We have leaders who spew xenophobic talk to keep people in line. I thought this was the land of the free.

    Mourn shakes his head in disgust.

    Despana: Only if you think a certain way, dress a certain way, sit a certain way, look a certain way… love a certain way. Dream a certain way. Born from a certain place. Tyranny is in the hearts of man. We are a flawed species. Look at me. I am moody, intense, driven... If being serious means I am not a nice man, so be it.

    Crotchman. Your group. They seem like good men.

    Despana: You are only as good as those you associate with. We share a cause. Bronx, Thornridge. We are The Professionals. Sure, we all go about it in different ways. But we are like the three musketeers All for one and one for all. That type of thing. We are here to watch each other’s back. After all that has happened since I debuted, my paranoia is warranted. You know... Divided we fall. We want to show that men of different backgrounds, from different parts of the world, can come together and work as one. That… and they keep me out of trouble. Best friends a man could have.

    Mourn chuckles aloud.

    Crotchman I have to ask. She is the person most synonymous with your career. Allana Maemorth. The wounds of her leaving you seem fresh.

    Despana: I...

    Mourn’s eyes drop to his lap.

    Despana: It…One needs to be careful to whom they help. I got railroaded. Seems like the standard blessing for a job well done. A man who tries to do the right thing seems to get knocked down rather quick. But… there is always a yin to the yang. I gained a tremendous wife. One I trust. She stood beside me in my moments of peril. I may be a fool but I am a loyal fool. I wake up everyday knowing I have three people I can look to for support. Kassandra, the woman I open my eyes upon to start the day, is on top of the totem pole. It is indeed nice to know that you can work hard and be rewarded. Kassandra being in my life proves it. I am indeed a very lucky man.

    Mourn closes his eyes. A warm honest gleam warms his face.

    Crotchman: While I know you don’t talk about it all that much, your career. How do you see yourself? You are the number one contender to Golden’s World Heavyweight Championship.

    Despana: Well…

    The word hangs in the air as Mourn’s face stays still. His eyes start to blink rapidly before he shakes his head embarrassingly.

    Despana: There is only so long a man can be passed over before he makes his own path. Look around you. LPW is changing. I started at a time of flux. Legends were leaving. The young blood starting to show their teeth. Respected stalwarts getting their chance to prove their greatness. Me? There was me, and Citizen and Wyatt Malone. Malone, the man who took the fall in my first match when I teamed with Sixx. Of all of us that popped up in my first six months, I am the only one to had any real success. But. When you are on an island all alone, you find a way to stand out. I did by being me. Humble. Honest. Proud. I am a proud, proud. PROUD man. Look at me. THIS IS THE ONLY THING I AM EVEN GOOD AT!

    Mourn’s eyes, intense as ever, cut a hole into Crotchman that causes the interviewer to slide in his seat.

    Despana: Each fight I have, the same desire as the last. When you pour your heart and soul into something, you want to be considered one of the best. I showed up at the first SuperCycle show where I saw this fucking company turn to shit. They started to treat us like cattle. Careers cut short. All in an effort to make totalitarian rule. Yeah. I did my time. I did what was needed. I learned what passion is. I learned what betrayal was. Yeah. My career is just fine. See this?

    Mourn pats his Western States Heritage Championship around his waist.

    Crotchman: Yeah.

    Despana: To some, this says I am number two. No. She is a championship. The title means more being around my waist than anyone else’s. With me, she has importance. Every match has a big match feel. Chris Paradise faces me tonight. He will one day be great, just not here. When he stands across from me, there will be a fight! That is why Golden acts the way he does around me. He is uber competitive. And he hates to lose.

    Mourn straightens his tie.

    Despana: Because of changes that are on the way, this may be my only chance. I have to take advantage of it.

    Crotchman: I thank you for the time and good luck in your match tonight against Chris Paradise.

    Mourn nods and they shake hands again as the camera fades.

    “How great the tremors will be when the judge comes."


    • #3
      Phoenix: Thank you very much for that interview. We here at LPW do not share the views of all of our on air talent.

      Lillehammer: Exactly! This man just committed treason.

      Phoenix: He simply spoke his mind.

      Lillehammer: OH? So you agree with him. See? He’s a bad influence on you. I swear, these Professionals...

      “Party Up (Bronx Remix)” by DMX interrupts Lillehammer as Bronx comes out onto the stage to a slew of cheers.

      DING DING!

      Announcer: The following tag team contest is scheduled for one fall. Coming down the ail, from Bronx, New York. BROOOOOOOOOOOONX!

      Lillehammer: BY ALL THAT IS CHENEY…

      Phoenix: We have tag team action here with sort of a strange bedfellows match.

      Lillehammer: This professional… troublemaker? In the nation’s capital? You want to know what another name for a professional troublemaker is? Right?

      Phoenix: Bobby. Don’t.

      Lillehammer: THE NAME’S ROBERT!

      "Never Learn Not to Love" by The Beach Boys changes the mood as boos replace the cheer. Out walks Caeser Osiris, smug look on his face in tow. His body is bandaged up, a result of the match earlier.

      Announcer: And his tag team partner, from Gasport, New York, USA. CAAAESERRRR OSIIIIRIIIS!

      Phoenix: Caeser Osiris wrestled earlier in the Weapons Encouraged Battle Royale in a losing effort when Bronx’s tag partner Steven Thornridge and him eliminated each other. The man was looking to go for singles gold along with the tag team gold he’s after with his tag partner Kazama.

      Lillehammer: That battle royale was the past, and this man is the future. He’s continuing his charity tour teaming with this scoundrel.

      Once near the ring, Bronx gives a contentious stare towards his tag partner who returns it with a cocky wink. Their jousting stares are interrupted by the sounds of "If You Want Peace...Prepare for War" by Children of Bodom. Walking through the curtain is a focused Sean Jensen followed by the large , lumbering, and joyful CLAP.

      Announcer: And their opponents. First, from Sacramento, California. SEAN JEEENSEEEN! And his tag team partner. From the office of H. Elroy Pumpernickle esq. CLAAAAP!

      Lillehammer: Look. Jensen found himself his very own Herman Monster.

      Phoenix: I am not the type of man to tell someone not to try and compete in the ring, but this seems a little unfair. CLAP isn’t a trained wrestler and he’s in the ring with two men, both of which are talented people who are close to being major players in this industry.

      Lillehammer: Especially Osiris. Okay. Fine. Only Osiris.

      Phoenix: I think Jensen’s happy with him replacing Bane, but I am not sure if this is a good idea.

      Jensen and CLAP start talking about who will while the other corner has Osiris quickly through the ropes, insisting that Bronx start.

      DING! DING!

      Phoenix: Match under away and Bronx is keeping his distance from the much larger man. CLAP is closing in. Bronx slips in with a shot to the midsection and out the back door before the larger man can touch him.

      Lillehammer: Fight like a man Bronx. For a former serviceman, he’s a pansy.

      Phoenix: I BEG YOUR PARDON?

      Lillehammer: You know, a flower.

      Phoenix: I… Bronx continuing with keeping his distance.

      Lillehammer: CLAP backing him to a corner.

      Phoenix: Bronx firing away with rights and lefts to the midsection…

      CLAP grabs bronx by the head and tosses him over the top rope to the outside.

      Phoenix: GOODNESS!

      Lillehammer: Uhh…. Okay, he’s at least strong.

      Phoenix: CLAP climbing out of the ring. He’s got Bronx by the head again and roughly rolls him back into the ring.

      As CLAP slowly rolls back into the ring, Bronx slides in with a basement dropkick.

      Phoenix: Bronx on the attack, backs up, another drop kick.

      Lillehammer: CLAP’s like a turtle on his back!

      Phoenix: Bronx off the ropes, quick leg drop, and another, and a trifecta. 1…

      At one, CLAP powers out flinging Bronx towards the Troublemaker’s corner.

      Lillehammer: I don’t think he knows how strong he is.

      Phoenix: Osiris in and waylaying on the back of the large man. BASEMENT DDT! Cover 1! 2! AND JENSEN SAVES HIM AT A COUNT OF 2.

      Lillehammer: DQ that man. He’s illegal. At least, that’s what the women say.

      Phoenix: That doesn’t make any… Osiris now stomping on the powerhouse. He reaches over and tags in the fresher Bronx. Bronx to the second rope, Clap standing, MISSILE DROPKICK! Cover 1! 2! NO! Somehow CLAP kicked out.

      Lillehammer: Bronx will need more than that to keep this corn fed yahoo down.

      Phoenix: Bronx reaches out.

      Lillehammer: Osiris just told him no.

      Phoenix: Bronx dismisses him, RUNNING SHOULDER BLOCK BY CLAP!

      Lillehammer: He just destroyed the man.

      Phoenix: Jensen practically ordering CLAP to tag. TAG! Jensen in, Right hands to Bronx. Bronx with a wild swing, Duck by Jensen. Bronx off the ropes, POWERSLAM. 1! Bronx out quick.

      Lillehammer: This “professional” is going to cost Osiris the match.

      Phoenix: Jensen up first, Jensen with a kick.

      Bronx: Caught!

      Phoenix: Enzeguri ducked by Bronx! Bronx getting a head of steam, off the ropes...

      As Bronx bouncer of the ropes and starts towards Jensen, his face tells the whole story. The man looks at his opponent and realizes his mistake and his eyes go wide...

      Phoenix: SHADOW KICK! MY GOD!

      Lillehammer: LANGUAGE!


      Lillehammer: Told you, this Bronx guy…

      The camera catches Bane Uzzah running through the crowd. He leaps over the barricade then up onto the apron.

      Phoenix: HEY! WHAT’S HE DOING HERE!

      Lillehammer: His emergency has been resolved!

      Phoenix: The ref with his back turned, Jensen charges and Osiris off the apron.

      CLAP blindly tags in. Across the ring, Osiris steps back through as Bronx crawls over to make the tag.

      Phoenix: Two tags made!

      Lillehammer: This ref is now distracted bt Bane/Jensen arguing at ringside!

      Phoenix: Osiris runs into a right hand by CLAP! And another now repeated punches.

      The crowd, with each punch, in unison yell “CLAP!”

      Lillehammer: STIs are not something to cheer.

      Phoenix: Osiris on dream street! CLAP winds up, LOW BLOW BY OSIRIS!

      Lillehammer: Ref’s still distracted!

      Phoenix: Oh now the ref looks back at the ring. CLAP’s screaming in pain. OSIRIS, HAIL CAESER! Cover! 1! 2! 3!

      Lillehammer: And that is how you cure the clap,

      Announcer: Winners of this match, BROOONX and CAAESER OSIIIRIISSS!

      Osiris and Bronx: 3.95 + 3.52 + 0.8 = 8.27

      Jensen and CLAP: 3.2 + 2.68 + 0.7 =6.58

      As quick as the ref’s hand hits the mat, Osiris is quickly out of the ring and away from the large man. "Never Learn Not to Love" by The Beach Boys plays in the background as Bronx yells from the ring apron at Osiris. Meanwhile, officials come out to break up Jensen and Uzzah as Bane retreats towards the back as well.

      Phoenix: That was low and dirty. He could have handled CLAP without that. The man was over matched.

      Lillehammer: He was in control at the time.

      Phoenix: Is it so hard to dodge a punch and counter?

      Lillehammer: Why? Seems like the counter that he did used less energy. The man did wrestle twice in one night.

      Phoenix: Well, we will have to agree to disagree. Osiris won’t be able to use that at our next Supercycle show when he and Kazama will face The Professionals Bronx and Steven Thornridge. We will be back in a moment.

      As the buzz in the crowd dies down from our previous fight a low murmur begins to rumble throughout the arena. That low murmur quickly gathers pace and evolves into loud cheers as the fans in attendance look toward the ramp and see their World Heavyweight Champion, Golden, make his way to the ring.

      Lillehammer: Huh? Are we on? No music?

      Phoenix: I’m - eh - not too sure what’s going on here, Robert, but whatever is happening I think we’re going to find out pretty soon as the Champ is asking for a microphone as he climbs into the ring.

      A visibly upset Golden attempts to quieten the crowd by motioning with his hands that they lower the volume, he then puts his finger to his lips in the hope that they’ll follow his cues and let him speak. They do.

      Golden: When I debuted in this company I dreamt about this day. The day that I would be able to come out into the middle of this ring, the world heavyweight title draped across my shoulder and call myself your Champion.

      The image of Golden raising the title belt from his shoulder toward the ceiling raises a pop from the crowd and a small “GOLD-DEN” chant steals the breath from the Irishman as he tries to continue to speak.
      Golden: But dreams and reality are two different things. I feel like a fraud. I look back at icons like Tromboner Man and Morpheus, superstars who set blazed a trail for everyone in the back. I’ve seen good men come and go, Eddie B., cYnical, X., the man I beat to become Champion, my friend, my brother, Sixx…all men, stars, legends…all…better than me.

      Lillehammer: Well he isn’t wrong there.

      Phoenix: Golden clearly has a lot on his mind folks, he seems to be struggling to find his words here.

      Golden: I look at new, hungry faces in the back and wonder do they even know who I am. I wonder why they don’t look at me like I looked at Morpheus. I wonder why when the name Golden is said it doesn’t garner the same reaction as the name Al amongst my fellow professionals. I even think why do YOU cheer me? It eats at me like a gnat…will they still like me if I don’t do this or that? Wil-

      Applause and cheers begin to drown out Golden, the fans answering their champions question with deafening support. The Irishman smiles, he closes his eye and nods his head in acknowledgement.

      Golden: Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, thank you for giving me that one last time…because if you have any respect for yourself you will not cheer what I am about to say. You will not love me, you will loathe me. You will wish this was the dream I envisioned, not the reality I have crafted.

      Golden signals to the back and soon we begin to hear click…Click…CLICK…CLICK…as banners start to fall from the rafters. Each banner with the body of an LPW legend standing tall with their World Title’s in hand only to have Golden’s face in place of their own with the line “Welcome to the Golden Era” captioning the artwork.

      Phoenix: What in the hell….

      Golden: I am pressing reset. I am choosing to start over. I am welcoming you to the Golden Era. My baggage was weighing me down. It was pulling me down. It was drowning me. Suffocating me. Destroying me. What you saw was a clichéd version of a parody of myself. I was living the fucking Matrix inside Inception and you got the result, a man so loosely tethered between what he thought was happening, what he thought should be happening and what was actually happening that you didn’t even notice.

      A confused silence envelopes the arena and seems louder than any of the previous minutes cheering.

      Golden: That’s right…I’m calling YOU out. The guy YOU were cheering for was so fucked up that he didn’t know which way was up and all you could do…was keep cheering. Idiots. Faceless idiots. Nameless fools that kept me up at night, worrying what you thought of me. Scared that I didn’t entertain you enough. Petrified that you would see what a mess I was.

      The first boo’s Golden has heard directed at him in over a year bubble up from the rafters to which he points, acknowledges with a nod and begins to pace purposefully.

      Golden: OK, now we’re getting somewhere. At least some of you are listening. I said I’m pressing reset. I have wiped the canvas clean. DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS? It means I can do whatever the fuck I want. I am your Goddamned Champion and I will do WHATEVER. THE. FUCK. I. WANT.

      The boo’s spread from the rafters and before long the majority of the crowd are now jeering the Irishman as he continues to speak.

      Golden: I don’t think you understand. I have pressed RESET. I no longer care what you think. You can boo til your voice is gone…your opinion does not register in my brain. A wolf does not concern himself with the opinions of the sheep. We live in a paradox where instant gratification is our life blood but if acted any slower we would grow young as opposed to old. Our world is a time machine, a throw-back to elitism of years gone by yet is powered by men who have been constantly rewarded throughout their lives for their failures. Oh, you finished last? Good on you for trying. Oh you’re a fat, unhealthy slob? A hearty round of applause for those life choices. Oh you’re old and decrepit? Well done for still being alive.

      Lillehammer:…I’m beginning to really like this guy.

      Golden: I am sick to the stomach of how this place celebrates mediocrity. I would rather die choking on greatness than live nibbling on mediocrity. I have unchained the shackles. Fuck what everyone else thinks of you, get better or get left behind. Adapt or die. Welcome to the Golden Era. The rules of the game have changed.

      “How great the tremors will be when the judge comes."


      • #4

        A long chord of ominous music plays.


        “This man has championship potential IF Pigs can fly.”

        “We may be looking at a future champion, he’s the model of a good rookie.”

        “The man can’t even beat Steve Monroe, or Kafudamaha on his best day.”

        “Joe Michaels has pinned PEN15!”

        “Next week, I come home to LPW, next week I raise my flag and restore my Revelation to this company, next week I end that inconsistency, next week my road is restored. My name is Joe Michaels.”

        Music end with a record scratch.

        The camera comes alive backstage where Al sits in his locker room, taping his hands. He’s focused, steel eyes manipulating the tape around his wrists in a fashion that seems second nature to him. A knock at the door jolts him back into reality. He bites the the tip to rip the tape, patting it down as he rises to answer the door.

        Al: Aaaaaaay

        ???: Yoooo, thanks for inviting me, bruh.

        Al opens the door wider, dapping his visitor and inviting him in. He enters the room to reveal his identity: DeSean Jackson of the Washington Redskins. The crowd in the arena begin to cheer his appearance.

        Al: Of course, of course. We go way back, brother.

        DeSean: We a long way from Cal Berkeley.

        Al: We sure a-

        Another knock at the door interrupts the trip down memory lane. Al goes to open the door, but before he can reach the knob, the door already starts to open.

        ???: Hello?

        Al: Chill! Chill! You can’t wait to get let i? God Damn!

        The intruding figure is Washington Wizards Point Guard John Wall.

        DeSean: Aaaaay!

        Wall: It’s just me, man. No trip.

        Al: I’m just saying, man. In this town, I feel like I gotta be on guard.

        DeSean and Wall: Woooord

        Al: Troublesome times, kid. Can’t trust no white man wearing a red hat-

        Just then the door, already ajar, is thrust open further, knocking against the wall and creating a scare in the three rich men of color. It’s a bearded mid-twenties white man wearing a red hat.

        ???: WASSUP MY NI-

        DeSean Jackson, closest to the door, decks the intruder, who falls to the ground and reveals his face - it’s Washington Nationals star Bryce Harper.

        Harper: Ahhhhh. What was that for?

        Wall: Like my homey said…

        These days, can’t trust no white man wearing a red hat.

        [i]Al, Wall, and Jackson laugh, walking out of the room as Harper checks his nose to see if he’s bleeding.[/i\

        Harper: I was just gonna call them my neighbors….

        The camera fades to black.

        Lillehammer: They can’t do that! DeSean should be suspended! Harper should sue!

        Phoenix: I don’t think Jackson is even IN the NFL right now.

        Lillehammer: Unreal!

        Phoenix: Now, in the business end of our show tonight, we have two title matches.

        Lillehammer: And a Champion here with Mourn walking into a fight that he thinks he can’t win.

        Phoenix: That’s a total fabrication. We have no idea what this man is thinking tonight.

        Lillehammer: Did you see his face today? It looks like he got caught wearing a Make American Great Again hat at an Atlanta Hawks game.

        Phoenix: My Go-

        Announcer: Ladies and Gentlemen this next match is scheduled for one fall… and is for the WESTERN STATES HERITAGE CHAMPIONSHIP!

        You’re the Best Around” by Joe Esposito blares throughout the arena as the crowd comes to life to boo the “Crippled Crusader” Chris Paradise who walks from the back with a steel and confident smile on his face. At his side is Enyo, who crosses her arms and stands strongly alongside her ward.

        Phoenix: Paradise, of course, earning his shot after an extremely impressive showing at 26.1 against Caprice, Spruance, and Joe Citizen - an impressive hitlist of contenders and he beat them all in one night.

        Lillehammer: Of course he did! He’s a damned inspiration! And he’s our next Western States Heavyweight Champion!

        Paradise walks down the center of the aisle, hands reach out on both sides of rails, all of which he ignores.

        Phoenix: Ah, yes. This crowd seems… inspired by the opponent.

        Announcer: Coming to the ring first…accompanied by Enyo, from Buffalo, New York, weighing 215 pounds… THIS… IS…. CHRIIIIIS PARADIIIIISE

        Just as Paradise smirks to the crowd, who boo him relentlessly, the music changes to the familiar opening chords of “Eye of the Tiger” by Survivor. The mood of the audience changes immediately to one of joyous cheers and admiration as a bruised and battered Mourn Despana walks out from the back.

        Phoenix: As mentioned earlier, Despana did sustain injuries in a sparring session while training for this match, but-

        Lillehammer: But nothing, BP! The guy can’t even win his spars, how is he going to beat the up and coming Paradise?

        Phoenix BUT - he is here, ready to fight, and I’m sure Paradise won’t be taking it easy on him. Just as I would assume Mourn won’t take it easy on Paradise for… yeah.

        Announcer: And his opponent… he is the Western States Heritage Champion…. From Seattle, Washington and weighing 245 pounds… THIS… IS… MOUUUURN DESPANAAAAA!!!

        Phoenix: Mourn is all business here, walking down the aisle, head down…

        Lillehammer: I think he’s just ashamed of his face.

        Phoenix: Mourn is a very proud man, so as much as you mean that as an insult, it might just be true. Regardless, he’s here and ready to defend his title. Both men in the ring now… ref checking Paradise, he finds nothing, turns to Mourn who lifts a leg and-- HEY!!!

        Paradise bum rushes an off guard Mourn and pushes him into the corner.


        Phoenix: Paradise with a cheap trick there! He’s on Despana like a spider monkey, kicking and punching the Champion who is trapped in the corner there. Paradise pulls Mourn up from sends a shoulder block into the Champ’s mid-section. The ref on the side calling for Paradise to stop. He starts his count…



        Lillehammer: A smart move here by Paradise, not letting Mourn time to get comfortable. He’s clearly in a weakened state so it’s on Chris to capitalize.


        Phoenix: I doubt deny that it might be fruitful but Chris is too talented to resort to those tactics.


        Phoenix: Chris raises his hands and backs off. Mourn gets to his feet and PARADISE RUSHES BACK WITH A SERIES OF PUNCHES! Mourn covers up and the referee gets aggressive, getting in the middle to separate the two.

        Lillehammer: A little too aggressive!

        Phoenix: Paradise again raises his arms and back away. The tensions ease and PARADISE WITH AN EYEPOKE! DAMNIT!

        Lillehammer: Ha! GOT HIM!

        Phoenix: Mourn doubled over, his vision impaired. Paradise is quite proud of himself, but I would say the crowd is seeing him for his true colors now. Despana roles to the outside.

        Lillehammer: And the ref again is admonishing Paradise. This guy, man. Who does he think he is?

        Phoenix: Wait wait wait! Look at Enyo making her way over to Despana, who sees her coming. The referee is arguing with Paradise, who is happy to keep his attention.

        Enyo approaches Mourn, who stands up straight. Ready to fight.

        Mourn: You touch me, he loses his chance at the ti-

        Phoenix: COME ON! A superkick from Enyo to Mourn sends the Champ to the ground. Mourn tried to reason with her and paid the price.

        Lillehammer: Despana seems hesitant, unsure. It seems like my little prediction of him knowing his time is up is correct.

        Phoenix: He does have a lot on his mind. But he’s going to be in an even worse way unless he finds his head here tonight. Paradise to the outside, he approaches Mourn and throws him into the guardrail. Mourn crashes, and Paradise again, relentlessly, sends a left, a right, a le-NO! Mourn blocks! He sends a shoulder into Paradise’s mid-section and sends him crashing against the ring apron!

        The crowd comes to life, cheering for Mourn who is getting in his first moments of offense. Despana, enraged, grabs Paradise by the hair and tosses him towards the corner turnbuckle. Paradise grabs ahold to keep himself upright. The referee begins his count.

        Lillehammer: This is unfair! Paradise isn’t equipped physically to fight on the outside.

        Phoenix: He took the battle to the outside! If that’s true, which I don’t think it is, he shouldn’t have done so!





        Lillehammer: YES! BULLSEYE!


        Phoenix: And now the two will have to act quickly to make the count!


        Paradise is stirring, trying to get himself to two feet.

        Phoenix: Oh no…


        Phoenix: It seems… it seems like Paradise lost one of his crutches during that crash! Mourn is getting up and groggily walking towards the ring!


        Lillehammer: That scoundrel Despana is going to win this in the grossest way poss-

        Mourn gets to the apron and looks back. He sees Paradise looking like a baby deer trying to talk for the first time and takes a long breath.


        Phoenix: MOURN IS GOING BACK FOR PARADISE! He helps him up, gives him the crutch, walks him back… the ref is raising his hands! MOURN THROWS PARADISE IN THE RING AND QUICKLY HOPS UNDER THE BOTTOM ROPE!

        Lillehammer: Self righteous little…

        Phoenix: THEY BEAT THE COU- OH!!!!!!! CRIP-TONIGHT!!! Paradise hits Mourn with the Shining Wizard, the scoundrel!!! PIN!




        Lillehammer: WE ALMOST HAD A NEW CHAMPION!

        Phoenix: Through less than honorable methods! Was he faking it the whole time??

        Lillehammer: The man saw an opening and he took it. What’s wrong with that?

        Phoenix: If you don’t see anything wrong with what just occurred, I can’t even. Paradise back in charge, with Mourn shaking off the cobwebs. The crowd is hot into this one now. Paradise locks in a headlock to Mourn.

        The boos get louder and louder as Paradise wrenches the hold.

        Phoenix: Despana’s hands looking for leverage. He gets up from a knee, up to two legs. He reaches for Paradise’s head of hair but the challenger shakes off his grip. Mourn tries to lift the challenger but he can’t.

        Lillehammer: Those braces on the arms of Paradise provide excellent leverage for moves like that. Like using a wrench on a tough screw - leverage is the key.

        Phoenix: Mourn is exhausting his options here. He’s fading, back down to a knee. He balls his fists… the crowd chanting his name… and MOURN PUNCHES A BRACE! PARADISE LOSES HIS GRIP AND STUMBLES TO THE MAT!

        Lillehammer: That’s disgusting!

        Phoenix: Despana bounces off the ropes! Paradise ducks under the oncoming train! Back up! Mourn bounces off the ropes again! Paradise catches him! Belly-belly su-! NO! Mourn clinches! Breaks the grip, rolls to the back! Mourn in German Suplex position! Goes to lift Paradise! He can’t! Despana OH! Forearm shiver to the small of Paradise’s back.

        Lillehammer: Despana is taking advantage of this mans handicap and I won’t stand for it!

        Phoenix: The Champion grabs ahold of Paradise from the back. Runs forward. The two bounce off the ropes! Paradise is able to hold on, and Mourn rolls backwards. Paradise turns! MOURN WINDS UP! ROLLING ELB-NO! Paradise was able to evade it! Dropping to the mat and rolling out of the ring! Unbelievable sequence!

        Lillehammer: Paradise proving that he belongs right here, in this division. You have to admire the fight he’s giving the cheating Champion here.

        Phoenix: Paradise on the ride apron at a standing position. Collar and elbow tie up. Paradise lifts Mourn! NO NO NO! Despana is able to clench. He lifts Paradise! But Chris also is able to deny his opponent the maneuver.

        Lillehammer: Precarious position for both men, but harder for Paradise with limited room to operate and all his extra… paraphernalia.

        Phoenix: Mourn breaks the tie-up and delivers a forearm smash to the face of Paradise, who grips on to the rope and OH! Delivers an elbow smash of his own to Mourn, who stumbles back.

        Lillehammer: Right in the mush!

        Phoenix: Mourn showcasing just how sensitive that face of his might be. Paradise reaches under the top rope and sends an end of a crutch into the gut of Mourn! Ano-NO! The Champion catches the crutch. Paradise shaking his head!

        Lillehammer: This is abuse!

        Phoenix: DRAGON SCREW ONTO THE ROPE! Paradise crashes to the apron and rolls onto the outside! And the crowd absolutely roars in approval.

        Lillehammer: There’s a climate of hate in this country right now, and the folks in this nation’s Capitol are endemic of that.

        Phoenix: Enyo going to check on her man, here. And Mourn isn’t going to allow them anytime to breath! He makes his way to the outside, ignoring the pleading ref, and of course!

        Lillehammer: Yes, of course! Enyo is in charge of protecting and caring for Paradise, of course she is going to stop him from being assaulted by this heartless troll.

        The referee goes out the check on Paradise, who is still down. Enyo is in Mourn’s face. The Official admonishes her, telling her not to try any funny business and kneels down with his back turned, checking on Paradise.

        Phoenix: Oh, yeah. Enyo’s record is stellar on not interfering…

        Enyo raises a hand. Mourn, scary fast, grabs her wrist and stops the strike. With his free hand he wags a finger like Dikembe Mutumbo. The ref rises and sees the altercation and seperates the two. Enyo is red, flustered, absolutely livid. The ref lays into her.

        Phoenix: The Official threatening to kick her out! Mourn turns his attention back to Paradise who is still on the OHHH!!!!! Paradise sends a crutch right between the legs of Mourn!

        Lillehammer: Right in the Ninja Stars….

        Phoenix: And the ref didn’t see anything. He turns around while Paradise is getting back into the ring. Mourn on a knee composing himself. The Official begins his count as Mourn reaches the apron. Despana climbs up, still coughing from the earlier attack to… erm…

        Lillehammer: He might be Champion of the Western States but his southern states must be hurting bad.

        Phoenix: And look at this! Paradise catches Mourn as he’s getting back into the ring! Mourn still groggy from the attack and wasn’t thinking there. His legs drapes across the second rope and OH! plants him with a Spike DDT! A pin!




        Lillehammer: OH MY REAGAN! I thought we had a new Champion!

        Phoenix: It’ll take more than that to put out Mourn. Paradise, frustrated, screams at The Ronin’s face before pulling his hair into a kneeling position. Paradise locks in a headlock…

        Lillehammer: I have really liked the strategy from the young wrestler here, trying to slow the match, control the pace, and not allow Mourn the momentum he needs to string moves.

        Phoenix: I can’t deny that. Paradise has been sublime tonight. He wrenches the neck here, but Mourn is getting to his feet here. He bum rushes Paradise into the corner turnbuckle! Mourn turns and… Paradise ducks his head between the top and second rope! The referee calls for a break and Mourn, frustrated, back off! Paradise re-enters the ring, hands up, and Mourn immediately charges again and…

        Lillehammer: Genius!

        Phoenix: Paradise, again, uses the ropes to his advantage, making the ref call for a break.

        Mourn:COME ON!!!!!

        Lillehammer: This guy!

        Phoenix: He’s a fighter, first and foremost. And his opponent doesn’t seem to want to fight.

        Mourn takes a big breath to recenter himself. While his eyes are closed, Paradise steps forward to attack.

        Phoenix: Foot stomp! But Mourn moves! I think Despana drew him in! Mourn grabs a handful of Paradise hair and MY GOD!!!! HEADBUTT! And Mourn doesn’t break his grip! Another! Another! Paradise is tossed back into the corner turnbuckle!

        Lillehammer: A vicious attack by a deeply troubles person!

        Phoenix: Oh, shutup! Paradise has poked and prodded Mourn all match! He’s getting his comeuppance! Despana charges forward and ENYO ON THE APRON! The Official turns and POKE TO THE EYES! Mourn stumbles backwards and Paradise escapes the corner! He runs towards the ropes and SPRINGBOARD BODYPRESS!

        Lillehammer: NO!!!

        Phoenix: ROLLING ELBOOOOOOW! And Paradise crashes to the mat in a heap! Mourn goes for the cover!





        Lillehammer: Will someone check on the kid, please?

        Phoenix: You’re not kidding… Chris Paradise is out. Mourn is collecting the Western States Heritage Championship and heading up the ramp.

        Lillehammer: He better run! The coward!

        Phoenix: A successful defense from the Western States Heritage Champ-Oh, no. Oooh, no.

        Lillehammer: Mourn doesn’t see him!

        The tenor of the excited audience changes as “Eye of the Tiger” stops abruptly. Mourn walks backwards up the ramp. Behind him creeps Golden wearing a bespoke suit. He rips off his tie and unbuttons his top button. The crowd tries to warn Mourn.

        Phoenix: Look out, Gabe!

        Lillehammer: I could live in this moment forever!

        Phoenix: Despana turns and… GOLD RUSH! GOLD RUSH! GOLD RUSH ONTO THE STEEL RAMP MY GOD!!!

        The crowd reign heavy jeers onto World Heavyweight Champion, who stands above Mourn Despana. The Devil Takes Care of his Own” plays as the crowd throws popcorn and soda at Golden.

        Phoenix: This feud is heating up! I can’t wait until that match. One on one, two titles up for grabs.

        Lillehammer: Spoiler alert: That’s exactly how it’ll end.

        Phoenix: We will see. With that, we’ll be back.

        The camera fades as Golden turns back towards his dirty work, smirking as he soaks in the boos.
        Last edited by Macho Mourn; 05-13-2018, 01:54 AM.

        “How great the tremors will be when the judge comes."


        • #5
          Metro Boomin’ want some more, ***** …

          “On. Now (instrumental)” by Snow Tha Product feat. Trae Tha Truth sounds up to several murmurs of confusion as dance hall-esque pulsating steel blue lights flash alternatively with white. LPW United States Heavyweight Champion and Mount Vesuvius torch holder Chris Austin saunters out to a massive reaction, largely negative, torch snugly holstered behind his back and clasped title hanging over his shoulder. Austin, who is chewing gum, takes a long look around the arena and scoffs before clenching his taped fists around the belt. He proceeds to the ring, eying the camera as he does so.

          Austin: Another day, another theme. My ring, my rules. What up, Snow? Maybe next time, you’ll be playing the International Heavyweight Champion to the ring. That comes later, though … just like you could. *winks*

          Phoenix: I’d be shocked if he didn’t have an STD.

          Lillehammer: FAKE NEWS! UNSUBSTANSIATED SLANDER! His out-of-ring escapades are surely done with the utmost care and safety. No one as strategic as him would risk it. That said … if you ask me, Al and Bobino are walking into a trap. What referee do you know tapes his fists to officiate a match?

          Announcer: Introducing the Special Guest Referee for tonight’s main event, he is the current LPW United States Heavyweight Champion and the Custodian of the Mount Vesuvius Torch … CHRIS AUSTIN!

          This is met with raucous jeering, to which Austin offers a sneering, duckface sort of expression of disdain to the Nation’s Capital. Austin hands over the U.S. title and the torch before he begins to rotate his wrists, stretching them out.

          “The New Shit” by Marylin Manson starts up as Bobino emerges, very focused. Austin watches the challenger make his way down, and the Master of Darwinism pays no mind to the fans, rolling into the ring and jumping to the nearest middle rope and screaming out, “MY TIME!” Bobino glares at the guest official and paces back and forth in the corner.

          Phoenix: The former Hardcore champion looks very serious tonight. Hard to believe this is only his second chance at the big belt.

          Lillehammer: And again, what has he done to earn it? I’m loathe to agree with the International Champion on anything – he isn’t legally here, after all – but he raised a point. That said, it’s past time for the veteran to reach toward greater heights. If he takes out the wall-jumper, the better.

          Phoenix: Are you serious?! Al is from California! You’re so damn …

          Lillehammer: Don’t believe what his birth certificate says. In fact, I want to see his papers!

          “Blockbuster Night Pt.1 ” by Run The Jewels seeps through the speakers as the wayfarer-wearing Al emerges, title around waist. He basks in the newfound cheers as Killer Mike’s words take him toward ringside.

          Bunches and bunches, punches is thrown until you’re frontless,
          Oodles and oodles, bang bullets at sucka’s noodles,
          Last album voodoo, proved that we were fuckin’ brutal…

          Phoenix: And here he comes, the most dominant International Champion we have had, maybe ever. And Austin’s eying him closely. You know he’s trying to find the most low-down, advantageous moment to vulture the title.

          Lillehammer: He earned that right. Don’t insult him for choosing to be smart about his affairs.

          Phoenix: I don’t. He is on record as saying it himself, he’s taking the lowest road possible.

          Lillehammer: And … your point? In politics, business, life … hell, in America, a man must make his own way. As far as I’m concerned as long as he doesn’t kill anybody, I couldn’t care less how he goes about taking the belt off of that … well, you know what he is. He can take out Golden, as much as I like him, as well.

          Al rolls into the ring and unstraps his title, kissing it. At this point, Austin approaches the champion, asking for the title so he can hold it up for all to see. Al alternates glances from his title to Austin, and decides to display the title himself. Austin smiles, muttering “You’ll be handing that to me sooner or later,” which draws a raised eyebrow from the IHC titlist.

          DING! DING! DING!

          Announcer: The following contest is scheduled for one fall with TV time remaining, and it is for the LPW INTERNATIONAL HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP! Introducing first, from Boston, Massachusetts. He weighed in at 272 and one-third pounds. He is the challenger … BOOOOOOOBINOOOOOO!!!

          Bobino makes a title-belt gesture around his waist.

          Announcer: His opponent, from San Francisco, California. He weighed in at 231 and one-half pounds. He is the reigning, defending LPW International Heavyweight Champion … AAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLL!!!

          Al raises the title high and hands it to the timekeeper. Austin approaches Bobino for a customary pat-down, checking for foreign objects. Bobino, unwilling to oblige initially, relents, staring a hole into RCA all the while. Austin, satisfied, heads over to Al, with neither man breaking eye contact. Austin motions for Al to comply, and he reluctantly does so, cutting it short as Austin works down to the kneepad area. Austin rolls his eyes in annoyance and takes his place at center ring.

          Austin: You both know the rules. Besides that, what I say goes. You put your hands on me, I WILL retaliate. RING THE BELL!


          Austin backpedals out of the firing line as challenger and champion circle one another. Austin keeps a very watchful eye on both men, waiting for the action to begin.

          Phoenix: And they’re going in… yes, both men lock wrists. Bobino, the heavier of the two trying to move around Al, nothing there for him, the champion’s base is solid. Al, despite his smallish size, is a master of leverage.

          Lillehammer: This didn’t help him when I was taking the Television Championship off his hands and stuffing him in body bags.

          Phoenix: Care to try that now, given that he’s clearly better now than he was then.

          Lillehammer: You know I’m retired. Besides, dear Alice would have a conniption.

          Phoenix: Al with the go-behind and there’s an amateur takedown … HE’S GOING FOR THE HEART OF DARKNESS BUT BOBINO SCRAMBLES OUT OF IT. Bobino is back up. Charging in, and there’s a hiptoss that downs the Bostonian. Bobino is back up but Al levels him with a back elbow that sends the challenger stumbling backward into the corner … OOF!

          Al charges in, BURYING a diving shoulder thrust – almost akin to a corner-trapped Hit Stick – into Bobino’s gut. The challenger crumples down and Al keeps up the pressure.

          Phoenix: The champion isn’t working by the hour here and so far, the moment looks too big for Bobino.

          Lillehammer: That dirty scoundrel won’t even give the man a chance to breathe. Isn’t Austin supposed to be assisting with that?

          Phoenix: Al now stomping away at Bobino! He’s putting those boots to the Master of Darwinism! He pulls him up off the mat, sends him running with a hard Irish whip sending Bobino to the ropes. He greets his return with a beautiful snap belly-to-belly! The champion’s on top of his game! Cover!

          Surprisingly, or perhaps not, Austin merely remains hunched over, studying both men. No semblance of an attempt is made to count a pinfall, drawing the ire of Al who is quickly up in Austin after Bobino kicks out instinctively at about two real-time seconds.

          Al: I HAD A COVER.

          Austin: Fight. Him.

          Phoenix: A little surprising Austin flat out refused to count there.

          Lillehammer: Pleasantly surprising.

          Phoenix: Al turning his attention back to Bobino now, who doubles over the champ with a right. Bobino scoops! He’s going for Un-Natural Selection but Al rakes the eyes to get free. Al lifts, drives him down with a back suplex. Al keeping after it here, following up with repeated forearm drops across the head and neck! Now he’s got a grounded Bow and Arrow submission, wrenching on it.

          Lillehammer: Where’s the admonishment from Christopher??! You can’t just rake the eyes, that dirty…

          Phoenix: Bobino reaches for the ropes, but Al pulls back! This has largely been a clinic by the International Heavyweight Champion.

          Bobino, who is on his side with his right arm and leg restrained as Al drives the knee into the back to apply pressure, is still unable to get to the ropes. However, he shows no signs of submission. Then, Austin begins a five-count, causing Al to hastily break the hold in confusion. Meanwhile, Bobino rolls out of the ring to regroup.

          Lillehammer: What’s that about?

          Phoenix: I have no idea. Bob didn’t get to the ropes from my vantage point.


          Austin: Fight him.

          Al: Let me, Plebe!

          Austin: Don’t get disqualified. You’ll lose the title.

          Al: RUBBISH!

          Austin: I’m the referee, so what I say goes. Go ahead and draw this out. I got all night.

          Al is left slack-jawed, almost shocked at the developments.

          Phoenix: It’s blatantly obvious that he’s here to screw Al! You see that?!?

          Lillehammer: GOOD. He goes on and on about how he’s the greatest of all time and how no one is in his league. And now he has the gall to question the match’s official! I’d DQ him on the spot! Why not see how he fares when the questions change just when he thinks he’s got the
          answers? I love it!

          Phoenix: Al going outside for Bobino now, but Bob drives the champion back-first into the apron! BIEL THROW into the barricade, and the challenger has life!

          Lillehammer: Get in there, Chris!

          Austin peers over the ropes, smirking as he shakes his head. Bobino exchanges glances between Austin and Al, and goes under the ring, emerging with a chair.

          Phoenix: This isn’t a hardcore match!

          Lillehammer: That’s for Austin to decide!

          Bobino: YOU GOOD WITH THIS?

          Austin: Try it and see.

          Phoenix: Don’t do it, Bob! It’s your title shot on the line!

          Lillehammer: DO IT FOR AMERICA!

          Bobino thinks on it for a couple seconds as Al gets to his feet and Austin shrugs apathetically. Bobino shrugs and WALLOPS Al in the back with the chair, bringing him to his knees.


          Lillehammer: Austin has not moved a MUSCLE to call for the bell! He wants to see Al suffer!

          Phoenix: But … that’s an obvious disqualification!


          Lillehammer: And another to the ribs! It's a winning strategy!

          Al writhes on the ground, his momentum sapped from him. Bobino gloats in what he’s done as Austin slouches in the corner, waiting for the action to return to the ring.

          Phoenix: Unbelievable. Al can rub some people the wrong way, but he’s been a valiant champion that does not deserve to be screwed over like this!

          Lillehammer: His reign is on borrowed time! Always has been! YES!

          Phoenix: Bobino back in the ring now, measuring a clearly worse-for-wear champion. He’s sizing up the head, gotta be!

          Lillehammer: Change is in the air, Phoenix. The International Heavyweight Championship is about to evolve!


          Lillehammer: WHAT IS HE DOING?!

          Bobino snaps around to Austin, who grabbed the weapon from Bob’s hands and tossed it out of the ring. The challenger angrily protests, shouting “WHAT THE FUCK, MAN? I HAD HIM.” Austin responds sternly: “Enough of that. This is a wrestling match. Prove you can do something without weapons.”

          Lillehammer: I have no idea what Austin is doing in there.

          Phoenix: He’s making a mockery of what should be a top-flight main event!

          Bobino eyes off Austin and turns back to Al, who flattens him with the Farewell to Arms discus clothesline after the few seconds of reprieve he received. Al sits up, trying to shake off the sting of the steel. He starts to go for a pin, but Austin ominously shakes his head no. Al stands up, the gears clearly turning.

          Phoenix: It’s as if Austin wants this match to go on as long as possible.

          Lillehammer: … That’s absolutely brilliant.

          Phoenix: How?

          Lillehammer: He has a free title shot. Why wouldn’t he want these two to tear each other apart? Unfortunately, I think Al realizes that this is Austin’s endgame.

          Al turns back to Bobino and starts stomping a mudhole into him. He manages to get Bobino into the corner and sandwiches him there with a running hip attack. Al roughly starts to take a groggy Bobino to his feet, yelling at Austin the whole time.

          Al: You want this? YOU WANT THIS? His blood is on your hands, and after I’m done, your blood will be on mine, cretin!

          Phoenix: Al trying to hook up for the C-S-P Plunge, he’s upped his urgency here, but Bobino won’t let it happen! Bobino wriggles free and stuns Al in his tracks with a Standing Side Kick!

          Lillehammer: Capitalize now, Bob!

          Phoenix: Bobino lifts, SAMOAN DRIVER! SAMOAN DRIVER! He’s got the cradle, but Austin’s not counting! GET DOWN THERE, DAMMIT!

          Al powers out after what would have been a close two and a half count, but Bobino is up and he is livid ...

          Phoenix: The challenger’s desperation is showing itself, and he should be pissed!

          Lillehammer: Austin hasn’t counted a pin attempt all night. Bobino should know better.

          Bobino: DO YOUR JOB!

          Austin: Keep wrestling, Bob.


          Bobino turns back to Al, dropping him to a knee with a clubbing blow. Bobino then follows with a powerbomb and holds for a pin. Austin slides to the mat as if he’s about to count, checking Al’s shoulders but he seems to be more concerned with analyzing the clutch and posture of Bobino’s stack pin attempt. Instinctually, Al kicks out anyway, but Bobino is close to blowing a gasket.

          Bobino: Don’t screw with me, man! This is MY SHOT. MY TIME.

          Austin: And this is MY ring. Focus on Al instead of finding an excuse for failure. Fight him!

          A roar of frustration escapes Bobino, who corners Al and follows with multiple shoulder thrusts. Bobino then sets up for his Darwinism maneuver as Austin backs out of the way.

          Phoenix: Bobino going for it all here, that rolling Stunner could bring him the gold! Bobino is up on the ropes, he leaps but AL SHOVES HIM OFF!

          Lillehammer: He almost barreled through Austin there, BOB LOOK OUT!

          Phoenix: Al charges for the HIT-STICK-NO, Bobino with the School Boy and he transitions into an exceptional knee bar! WAIT! AUSTIN IS IN THERE CHECKING ON AL!!

          Bobino wrenches the leg as an anguished Al tries to work out of it. To his surprise, Austin is kneeling down beside him, asking if he wants to submit.

          Austin: DO YOU WANT TO GIVE IT UP?

          Al: What the … NO! I’M NOT QUITTING!



          Phoenix: Al’s still in this, but a brilliant counter by Bobino as him in a bad way! Al is hanging on!

          Bobino: TAP OUT, AL! TAP!


          Austin: YOU SURE?


          Bobino cranks harder, to the point where Al’s hand goes up, contemplating surrender ever so slightly.

          Austin: … You have 60 seconds to escape this hold or I’m calling it. Whether you quit or not.

          For a fleeting moment, Al forgets he’s in a potentially-crippling leglock and looks at Austin incredulously.

          Al: Please... Don’t toy with MY Championship like this … You’ll make me HURT him, Christopher ...

          Austin: Sounds like a Bobino problem. Escape or I’m calling it. 45 seconds.

          Al’s face scrunches into one that’s been ‘triggered’ and through pained grunts he slowly drags himself and the larger Bobino toward the ropes.

          Phoenix: BLATANT CHEATING! He’s about to screw Al right here! You heard that exchange!

          Lillehammer: He’s looking out for his long-term health. Why? Reagan only knows but sometimes you have to make the judgement call!

          Phoenix: Al is almost there, he’s almost there!

          Al reaches, but no go. He then grabs one of Bobino’s ankles and TWISTS it, which causes a pained challenger to loosen the hold just enough for Al to scramble to the ropes. Here, Austin begins a steady five-count, but Bobino refuses to break. Thusly, Austin forcibly breaks the hold, officially drawing Bobino’s ire. Meanwhile, Al slumps out of the ring, trying to work some blood back to his knee.

          Bobino: DON’T PUT YOUR HANDS ON ME!

          Austin: He got the ropes, I gave you a 5-count. You want to be DQ’d?

          Bobino: So now you want to ref a match? Right when I had it in hand?!?

          Austin: You had nothing. Never did, never will.

          This causes Bobino to shove Austin. Austin, unprepared for it, backpedals all the way to the adjacent corner, much to the cheers of the crowd.

          Phoenix: And Bobino has had enough!

          Lillehammer: You don’t put your hands on a ref, especially one the caliber of Chris Austin!

          Phoenix: AND AUSTIN SHOVES HIM BACK! Bobino didn’t expect that!

          Bobino, surprised, quickly changes back to a more aggressive posture. Austin’s fists clench up, but a rapidly approaching Bobino is intercepted by a running forearm to the side of the face by the champion. Bobino hits the mat like a ton of bricks, and Al is on him like white on rice.

          Phoenix: Al has become savage here, wailing away on the challenger. Austin’s on the action and Bobino’s trying to kick away!

          Lillehammer: I see Bobino’s anger, but he should have broken the hold when Austin said so!

          Phoenix: Bobino is up, groggy and Al traps the arms! Look at those headbuts to the chest! Trapping Suplex connects!

          Lillehammer: Get in there, Austin. Give Bobino a chance to be great again!

          Phoenix: Al is back up and Bobino is downed and dazed, the champion delivers a running senton splash! Cover-AUSTIN’S COUNTING! 1! 2! BOBINO KICKS OUT!

          Al eyes Austin, either out of rage or skeptical look as to whether or not the recent impartial officiating will continue. Austin flashes a “2” with his fingers and Al nods once, back on Bobino.

          Phoenix: Al burying Bobino with knees to the ribs and clubbing blows to the back! Al is reaching down here, and these may be uncharted waters for Bobino!

          Lillehammer: Austin saved Al is what he did! I understand that Bobino should have broken the hold, but -- well, now the illegal is winning.

          Phoenix: Samoan Drop from Al! A cover, a count, two and a half!

          Al eyes Austin again, as if to silently say, “You asked for this.” Austin motions for the match to continue, taking more care than usual to stay out of the champion’s path.

          Phoenix: Al measuring Bobino, who has been bombarded with offense. Al’s body attack has Bobino smarting, and I think Al is going for the Hit Stick again! Al backs up. He charges but Bobino leap frogs over it!



          Lillehammer: Bobino might have hurt himself on that!


          Bobino: THAT WAS THREE!

          Austin: Shoulder was up!

          Bobino: IT WAS THREE, DAMMIT! THREE!

          Lillehammer: Bobino is beside himself. You can see how badly he wants that brass ring! But it was a good count! Keep the eye on the ball!

          Phoenix: Admittedly, the count was fair. Bobino trying to set up for Un-Natural Selection, but the first lift stresses those ribs too much! He tries again, but Al wriggles down. Bobino turns … #1 STUNNA! AL DECAPITATES BOBINO ON THE STUNGUN REBOUND WITH A FAREWELL TO ARMS!!!

          The combination, and the ensuing impact, even brings a cringe from Austin. Al stands up, fists balled up, eyes narrowed. He backpedals and motions for Bobino to get up.

          Phoenix: Al has found a new level down the stretch here, and Bobino, no idea where he is, is in deep trouble!

          Lillehammer: STOP THIS MADMAN, AUSTIN!

          Phoenix: Bobino staggers around, Al fires out … HIT-STICK MY GOD!

          Austin slides into position for a count, but Al doesn’t go for the pin.

          Al: Let me finish him, and we attend to our business after.

          Phoenix: Al’s not done, and Austin’s puts his hands up to let it go! Al turns Bobino over, and HE LOCKS ON THE HEART OF DARKNESS!! Al stretching with all he’s got!

          Lillehammer: And Austin is in there, perfect position!

          Austin asks if Bobino wants to give it up. Bobino gets out a muffled yet defiant “NO.” AL pulls further, his eyes closing as he strains. Austin asks again, and Bobino, try as he might, is unable to figure a way out of Al’s textbook camel clutch.




          Al ©: 4.31 + 0.9 = 5.21
          Bobino: 4.07 + 0.6 = 4.67

          “Blockbuster Night Pt. 1” by Run The Jewels kicks back up as Austin leaves the ring to retrieve the IHC belt. Meanwhile, Al cranks back a couple seconds more for good measure as Austin, unaware of what’s happening in the ring, loses himself gazing at the International Heavyweight Championship.


          Phoenix: Al JUST NOW releases the hold as Austin slowly walks up the steps. Al snaps to attention, guard is up after a successful defense. But is his night over?

          Austin re-enters the ring, his eyes never leaving Al’s title. The champion yells out, “BRING ME MY CROWN.” Austin reaches out, presumably for Al’s hand to present the winner to the D.C. crowd, but Al snatches the title away from Austin, much to the latter’s surprise.


          Lillehammer: Al’s writing a check he can’t cash. Typical.

          Austin leaves the ring and gathers his things. He looks at his torch, and at his shirt, as he is a contracted referee for the night.


          Phoenix: But Al is ready for him! Would he dare try to do something straight up for once? I doubt it!

          Austin re-enters the ring, where Al is at the ready. Austin gazes at his torch and to Al, who motions calmly to bring it on. Austin takes a step toward Al and leaves the ring much to the chagrin of the crowd. Boos rain down as Al relaxes, obviously a little disappointed. Austin smiles, yelling out “NOT THIS NIGHT. ON MY TERMS!”

          Phoenix: That coward!

          Lillehammer: There’s a fine line between bravery and stupidity. The man is a genius!

          [i]As Austin swaggers away, he begins backpedaling up the ramp, pointing the torch at Al before placing it back into the holster attached to his back. At this point, Bobino, who has recovered some, bulrushes Austin into the ringpost and tosses him into the ring. Austin, disoriented but somehow still in possession of his torch and title, gets to his feet and is greeted with a Hit Stick by Al![/b]


          Austin, who dropped his championship upon impact, manages to recover both title and torch as he rolls out of the ring, clutching them tightly as he holds his midsection and his face shows a grimace. Austin scoots back as far from the ring as he can, as Al holds his title high. Bobino looks on, furious as Al looks to Bob, gaining his attention. Al points at his most recent triumph, saying, “One day, we go again. You weren’t ready tonight.” Bobino scowls, yelling, “NEXT TIME, IT’S MINE.”

          “Blockbuster Night Pt. 1” by Run The Jewels kicks back up as Bobino backs away and Al celebrates in the ring, as an embarrassed and smarting Austin looks on -- frantically checking to ensure that his torch is still in the holster on his back -- clutching his belt as an old white woman would her pearls.

          Phoenix: Maybe next time, these two will have a fair chance to show off, but for now, Al stands tall for one more night, and the “Student of the Game” has been taught his place!

          Lillehammer: Ugh.

          Phoenix: For my colleague Robert Lillehammer, I’m Blazing Phoenix! Good night from our Nation’s Capitol!

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