[DevSop]

OOC - Yes I am tired of cutting the same promo and if someone had any balls and attempted to be #1 in the company instead of settling for #15, maybe I'd cut different promos. Have fun.

[Jack Quinn]

what?

[Attitude Adjuster]

OOC--Did Dev just shoot on the OOWF?

[wld]

**Fear Us and Drink & Destroy are in the Destroyitarium, drinking.**

LD: “Forget it.”

FFC: “Don’t be a wuss.”

LD: “Not gonna happen.”

OBJ: “Just give it a try, mate. It’ll be fine.”

LD: “No way in hell am I going to wrestle drunk.”

OBJ: “I do it all the time.”

LD: “Alcohol is like spinach for you. I’d be worried if you tried to wrestle without drinking.”

S: “Think of it like a stipulation match. If we all do it, we’ll be on level ground.”

LD: <laughs> “With the amount you guys drink? I’m not even sure it’s possible for you to get drunk anymore. I’m not going out there and stumble around like a…like a…”

FFC: “Drunk?”

S: “The OOWF was built on alcohol. Half the guys promo when they’re drinking. They come up with storylines when they’re drinking. Hell, the person who writes our match will probably be drunk!”

**In the background Kayfabe, sitting at a table in the corner, looks up.. She thinks for a moment, shrugs, and shakes her head as she returns to her drink.**

FFC: “You’re teaming with Jack – it’s going to happen sooner or later.”

S: “Besides, it’ll lessen the pain when we kick your asses.”

LD: “Or vice-versa. Assuming, of course, the title holders and their friends don’t decide to get involved.”

OBJ: “The great Phantos and Lucios? Interfere in a match against wannabe teams like us?”

S: “You just know that’s the only line of this promo anyone’s going to read…”

**Kayfabe pegs her glass at the back of Stank’s head.**

S: “Ow! Pay attention to! I meant that’s the only line anyone will pay attention to!”

FFC: “Bottom line: We’re going to kick the crap out of each other, and whoever wins goes after P&L or the Heels – whoever has the belts.”

S: “And whoever loses gets the other team.”

OBJ: <belches> “Australian for ‘sounds like win-win to me, mate.’”

[Riot Act]

The camera fades into the locker room area immediately following the Moosehead Jack/Tyson Kincaid match at Sunday’s PPV. Tyson Kincaid once again sits on a chair, this time undoing his wrestling boots and holding the pill bottle that was inside one of those boots.

The door to the locker room opens and a jubilant Lance Storm walks in.

LS: What did I tell you? Only four days sober and you managed to cleanly defeat one of the most dominant wrestlers in OOWF history!

Kincaid looks up and, for the first time in months, smiles.

TK: Yeah, it was a hell of a match. But Moose will be looking to get that win back and I’ve got to make sure that I don’t let my guard down and get cocky. That match doesn’t really settle much as far I’m concerned.

LS: Of course not, but it was still a big step in the right direction. By the way, what was the deal with that pill bottle? I watched you all weekend like I said I would and you didn’t have that anywhere near you.

TK: I have no idea, Lance. Between this and the flask from Mayhem, I think someone is playing some kind of game with me.

LS: You could be right. But don’t worry about that right now.

Storm pauses and then cautiously continues.

LS: So, uh, how do you feel about having to face Firewoman this week?

Kincaid’s smile disappears, but surprisingly he does not begin to show any signs of lingering depression.

TK: I’ve been doing a lot of thinking these last four days and I’ve asked for some interview time later this week to address the situation. If it’s alright with you, I’d rather wait until then before I talk about it.

LS: Fair enough, I shouldn’t have brought it up. Let’s just relax and celebrate your victory, alright?

Storm walks over to a table in the corner of the room where a small Sony home stereo system sits. He picks up a CD, places it in the tray and hits “play”.

LS: Queens Of The Stone Age alright with you?

TK: Of course. What album?

LS: Rated R.

Before the thought can register, Storm and Kincaid turn to the stereo as Josh Homme’s voice fills the room with the lyrics of the record’s first track, “Feel Good Hit Of The Summer”.


Nicotine, Valium, Vicodin, Marijuana, Ecstasy and Alcohol
Nicotine, Valium, Vicodin, Marijuana, Ecstasy and Alcohol
Nicotine, Valium, Vicodin, Marijuana, Ecstasy and Alcohol
Nicotine, Valium, Vicodin, Marijuana, Ecstasy and Alcohol

C-c-c-c-c-cocaine
C-c-c-c-c-cocaine
C-c-cocaine
C-c-c-c-c-cocaine


Storm turns off the stereo and an awkward silence follows.

TK: Poor taste, Lance. Poor taste.

Fade.

[Riot Act]

We fade into a close shot of Tyson Kincaid standing in front of an OOWF banner. He is wearing a Tom Waits t-shirt underneath a denim jacket and a black Trilby-style hat, tilted slightly back on his head with the brim snapped upwards. He begins to speak with a look in his eyes and a tone of voice that is more focused and severe than we have ever seen.

TK: Four days. 96 hours. 5760 minutes. 345,600 seconds. To most, that is an insignificant amount of time, not even a full week of work for a person in a nine-to-five job. But for me, it was an entire lifetime of redemption and healing and revelation.

Last Wednesday morning, I lay awake in a five-star hotel with a beautiful dark-haired woman in bed next to me. She was sleeping softly, almost purring. I was the envy of most red-blooded men, yet I was still miserable, each breath labored as I lay shaking, wrapped tightly in the sweat-soaked silk sheets and wrapped even tighter in my own thoughts. Not even the feel of this girl’s soft skin or the sweet jasmine smell of her hair on my pillow could ease me back into the generous haven of sleep. So I went crawling back to my old stand-by, the only way I knew of to dull my senses.

By Wednesday afternoon, I was asleep. I was in the same hotel, the same bed, but this time I was alone. Alone, save for the empty flask of vodka and half empty bottles of Xanax and Vicodin that lay strewn beside my bed.

And then Wednesday night came and I once again found myself feeling the enduring after-effects of what I had poured into my body that day and the seemingly infinite stretch of days before that. But I couldn’t fix myself with more of the same. No. I had to walk to the ring and lock up with Moosehead Jack, the most dangerous man in this sport. And as hard as I tried, as deep as I reached into every hidden reservoir at my disposal, I failed to overcome the challenge that had been placed in front of me.

So, what did I do? I walked away, ready to start the vicious cycle of self-medication all over again. I fully intended on starting with that mysterious bottle that found its way into my hands during the match as if it was a generous gift from the heavens - another quick cure, another way to warm my stomach and my heart and experience happiness for just a moment.

And I would have. I would have once again hidden away in the sweet, saccharine mouth of that beast. I would have done it all over again, if it wasn’t for my mentor – my friend – Lance Storm. He watched over me like a caring older brother as I sobered up and focused myself on a return match with Moose. Most importantly, he made sure that I stayed sober.

Four days. Four days after my last drink, my last pill, my last wasted moment, I stepped back into the ring with Moose and I defeated him. And now, I must face the catalyst of all this. I must step into the ring with Firewoman.

Fire…Lisa…in those four days and in the days since, I’ve had time to think with a clear head. And I’ve come to a very important realization, one that absolves me from any guilt that I may feel when I come after you with everything I have.

You see, you never did betray our friendship as I had convinced myself was the case. There never was a friendship. The only reason that you were so close to me during our time together was so that I wouldn’t leave you behind. You thought that I was your meal ticket and you held onto my coattails for dear life. However, when you saw an opportunity for yourself, you took it. You left me and never gave it a second thought because I was never a part of your life, I was only a tool to be used for your own prosperity.

Now, before you go telling yourself that Lance planted these thoughts in my head, let me tell you that it was something I had to figure out for myself. And after a couple of days of sobriety, it all finally became perfectly to clear me.

And now, let me make something perfectly clear to you. The old Tyson Kincaid is back and not even watching SWA tapes will be able to prepare you for what the old Tyson Kincaid is capable of.

Kincaid turns and walks off camera. However, the camera keeps him in frame as he walks down the hall. He stops next to a garbage can and takes the pill bottle out of his pocket. He eyes it thoughtfully before throwing it into the garbage.

As Kincaid walks away and out of sight, a door opens and Moosehead Jack steps through and into the hallway. He makes his way over to the garbage can, reaches in and picks up the pill bottle. He smirks to himself before placing it in his pocket, turning around and walking back through the doorway which he entered from.

Fade.

[DevSop]

OOC - Nope, no shooting. Just having fun

IC -

*Rick's Office*

Rick is just about to sit back and enjoy a nice smooth whiskey when his door slams open and the Darling sisters stroll in. A step behind them is Alexander.

GMtR: Ah hell.

Alexis: Is that any way to greet the person that saved your company?

GMtR: Saved my company? You can't be serious.

Alexis and Samantha sit down and get comfortable while Alexander stands behind them.

Oh sure, make yourselves comfortable.

Alexander: Rick, I may not be able to touch you but you will sit there and shut up right now or I guarantee I make your life a living hell.

GMtR: And what exactly...

Alexis: Rick, now isn't the time to try and be the big man. Remember, I may have been looking to destroy Bennett, but it doesn't mean I didn't find out some other interesting tidbits along the way. And truthfully, none of us here are your enemy.

GMtR: Why do I not believe you?

Samantha: Because you're a fucking moron.

Rick looks like he's somewhere between annoyed and really pissed off.

Alexis: Listen Rick, we're not here to get on your bad side just like I know you don't want to get on Run DEA's bad side.

GMtR: Like I said before the PPV, I'm done playing favorites. So as much as I might appreciate what you did for me over the summer...Alexis, Alexander...I can't let it effect my decisions going forward.

Alexander: That's fucking bullshit. I damn near killed myself...

Alexis: Brother, allow me. Rick...we're not asking for special treatment or favors, we just want what we're owed.

GMtR: And what is it you think you're owed?

Samantha: Stop being such a fucking retard.

GMtR: Sammy...

Alexis: Rick, watch it. She's barely controllable as it is. You really don't want to piss her off.

GMtR: Whatever...can you get to the point? Why are you here?

Alexis: First, stop fucking with my paperwork and get me re-instated. ASAP. I want back on the roster by next week. I've gone through all your little strings and you can't keep me out of the ring any more.

GMtR: I don't get it. Why do you want to get back in the ring so bad?

Alexander: Because go fuck yourself, that's why!

Alexis: Nice...Rick, you don't need to know my reasons. You just need to know that before I took my leave of absence, I was an active member of the roster and I want back on. If you feel the need, my favorite brother has agreed to tag with me for now until you think I'm capable of handling myself.

GMtR: You know what that means...

Alexis: I know what you think it means and that will be point two. This does not affect any planned matches for Alexander. He wants to and is basically demanding to be given the opportunity to work as often as you let him.

GMtR: We have a policy here...

Alexander: I don't give a fuck about your policy Rick. I've gone out there since my first day and I've never backed down from anyone you or Bennett threw in front of me. And I'm tired of repeating myself, so let me go out there and prove it to you or whoever needs more proof of what I'm capable of.

Rick takes a moment and takes a long drink of his whiskey.

Samantha: Anytime today asshole.

GMtR: Who the fuck gave you a job here, jeez.

Samantha: Your former assistant GM and the Current World Champion, so I'd watch your tone.

GMtR: The lot of you are giving me another fucking ulcer, but Alexis, you and I have been able to work together in the past so here's what I'll do. You're back and active as of next week's Mayhem, but I get to choose your opponents until the November PPV. And your other request, I'm not opposed in principle, but I need to take it up with the board. But I promise to see what I can do.

Alexander: Promises mean shit to me Rick. Results are what I want.

Alexis: Always a pleasure Rick.

Alexis and Samantha stand up and start to leave the room while Alexander lingers for a second. He takes a deep breath before turning to look at Rick once again and it's a look we haven't seen in Alexander for a while.

Alexander: I said it back before you got me involved in your stupid war Rick and it's time I take my rightful place again. Tell Cole he better start getting ready. His belt will be coming home to Run DEA.

And there isn't a damn thing he or you can do to stop us.

Alexander takes his sisters two arms and Run DEA walks out of the office like they own the place and Rick slams back the rest of his whiskey before he sighs and picks up his phone.

GMtR: Yea, it's me.
Shut the fuck up.
Seriously, shut the fuck up. I need you to come by.
Because I fucking said so.
Stop being so fucking difficult.
Trust me.
No I'm not Moose you asshole.
Just come by, I have something I want to discuss with you.
That's great. Fuck you too.

[Mikey]

[TCH is walking down the hall at the arena... in Springfield, GA. AA is still licking frosting off himself.]

JA: Taste good, buddy?

AA: Oh yeah, love vanilla frosting.

JA: Heels offering titles shots to titles they don't have to guys if they help them out... birthday cakes... you know these things work.

AA: There's a first time for everything, Johnny.

[Johnny and AA walk past a table in the hallway that has some big document on it.]

AA: Hey, look! This looks like a contract signing. I wonder who it's for!

JA: Contract signing...?

AA: [looking at contract on the table] It's for our match this Wednesday. [signs the contract]

JA: Alan, get away from that man. You know what happens when...

[Suddenly, Phantos & Lucios hop in from offscreen and lay out Johnny and AA. Lucios slams Capps thru the table. The champions sign the contract and leave.]

JA: [pulling himself up and dusting himself off] First time for everything, huh?

AA: Man... this promo is like the same promo we cut earlier.

JA: Well, apparently cutting the same promo over and over again is the "in" thing now.

AA: Oh... well, in that case let's figure out more wrestling cliches.

JA: Sounds like a plan.

[Johnny picks up his trophies and he and AA walk off]

[Fire-Babe]

Firewoman is up early, following her "match-day" routine, when she sees Tyson's "revelations"

Wow...So you've been sober for, what, a week now? Congratulations. [slow mocking clap] You've managed to pull off what the vast majority of human beings can do.

Except I've kinda heard it all before, Tyson. Let's run down the list, shall we? "I swear this was the last time, Fire." "Really, Lance, I'll be on time for the show." "No no, I'm not hungover, I just have the flu." "I mean it this time."

Tyson you've already proved you can't hack it. Your five days of sobriety are nothing. I remember the fine days of Calgary when you made it a month, and then some ring rat turned you down and you climbed back into whatever bottle was available. So, pardon me, if I'm not impressed. The only reason you're sober now is because your baby sitter has been around. Say what you will of my motivations, at least I usually remember what I said the next day and how I got where I am when I wake up.

So, I'll try to summon up some small iota of concern that you won't be high as a kite, and you won't drop me on my head, again, but save your breath about being sober "for real" this time. I've heard it all before. It doesn't sparkle for me anymore.

[Attitude Adjuster]

AA and JA continue walking down the Hallway of Wreslting Cliches.

AA: Hey, Johnny, why are always carrying around those trophies?

JA: I don't know. It just seems like a good thing to do.

AA: But I was just reading here in "Wrestling Cliches 101" that...

[Suddenly, Phantos & Lucios hop in from offscreen and lay out Johnny and AA. Phantos grabs Johnny's trophy and beats him over the head with it, smashing the trophy into dozens of pieces.]

JA: Ahh, dang. Forgot about that one.

AA: That's OK. We can probably Super Glue the trophy back together. Besides, here's another Wrestling Cliche for you. I'm sure Phantos and Lucios didn't read the contract they signed. We are now the proud owners of 50 percent of all their endorsement contracts.

JA: Sweet! Wrestling Cliches can be fun!

[Mikey]

[continued...]

JA: I mean... HEY! YOU SONS OF BITCHES! YOU BROKE MY PROMO OF THE YEAR TROPHIES!!

AA: Now you're gonna get it!

JA: ...

AA: ...

JA: It was more fun breaking kayfabe.

AA: Hey, is that a giant box with a bow on it up there?

[fade out]

[The Jewish Cunthead]

*FADE IN TO THE PALATIAL IHOP LOCKER ROOM. SYB, Skurge, and The Amnesiac are in the middle of another jam session with Rock Band 2… we join them in progress.*

SYB: He ded –

"det der de dound", der dus dound
"det der de dight", der dus dight
"det der de dums", der dus dums
"det der de dedar", der dus dedar
"det der de dock"!

<The Lovely and Talented Dorothy Mantooth and Fezzik are trying to hold back laughter>

Skurge: That was fucking horrible, chief. I can’t play like this, eh?

SYB: Duck du! Dy dose ess doken, assdock!

The Amnesiac: How the hell are we supposed to fight tonight with him like that?

Skurge: Quick tags, my friend… quick tags.

The Amnesiac: Let’s try another song…. Pinball Wizard?

Skurge: Ever since he was a young boy, Solly played with his balls.

SYB: DOAT DOCK!

*FADE*

[Concrete TG]

(CTG is working out in the abandoned gym when SFJ #52 walks in)

SFJ#52: Concrete, have you been here all week? You know there's a world title match waiting for you.

CTG: (finishing his reps) That's why I've been here training for this match. This title shot has surprised me a great deal, but my surprise became resolve, so I came here to prepare.

SFJ#52: Some strong accusations have been thrown your way - first, Davin Moreland himself calling you "traitormask" and condemning your actions during and probably before the war.

CTG: (smirks faintly) that's an interesting statement from the man who attempted to frame me for the bounty placed on Stank, then turning his back on his own boss. Where I actually listen to our General Manager, I think Davin forwarded his own agenda until the belt was in his hands. His resignation was most welcome, but I had hoped he would resist the edict so that the World Title would be in play for multiple contenders.

SFJ#52: You're not saying you don't want to face him, are you?

CTG: I'm willing to face the REAL traitor of this war - and Davin need only look in the mirror to find out who that is.

SFJ#52: Firewoman is accusing you of being once again in cahoots with Sterling Glaw.

CTG: Unfounded. I have not spoken with our former Senior Referee in some months. He has also spent more than enough time suspended and fined for actions that occurred over a year ago, and before Firewoman was even a part of the roster. I commend her for studying up on the history of the OOWF but her "creative applications" thereof are not welcome.

SFJ#52: there's been a request for Glaw to step down as an OOWF referee.

CTG: But remember who made that request - while Davin Moreland is the OOWF champion, he is no longer the Assistant GM, leaving the matters of the referees to our General Manager. Rick can make that decison of his own accord. I would hope that Glaw would be retained as he is an experienced official and his record - save the blemish that many in the OOWF make him carry like a cold iron cross - he is an enormous asset to our league. I feel that a less noble individual like Mel Creech should consider stepping down, for he has rarely, if ever, properly applied his skills as an official and has been observed overtly cheating to all those involved in the ring. A man who eats and drinks on the job, will sit with the announcers or in the crowd, while a match is in progress? There is no outcry? There is no justice served to that?

If Glaw is not permitted to return to his post despite atoning for punishments past, then Creech should be removed immediately for neglecting his duties and not showing one iota of remorse. It is not my place to make the decision for Rick, but I will at least recommend that Mel no longer be permitted his position as Senior Ref.

SFJ#52: good luck in your match tonight.

CTG: Preparation is the strongest form of luck, citizen. Davin will regret all his false accusations when I am OOWF champion once more.

[Attitude Adjuster]

AA and JA are standing in front of the Giant Box with a Bow.

AA: Well, you know what this means.

JA: Yep. If it's a box big enough to fit a human, it's a human.

AA: And that guy's going to beat the heck out of whoever opens the box.

JA: Yep.

AA: OK, so let's suppose this guy is a Samoan. Say, Afa or Sika.

JA: Or Jamal or Rosey?

AA: Or maybe Jimmy Snuka. Anyway, they all have hard heads that are oblivious to pain, right?

JA: Hey, why didn't The Rock have a hard head?

AA: Steroids make your forehead softer.

JA: Oh yeah. Everyone knows that.

AA: So, if that's a Samoan with a hard head, what happens if I use my Clawhold WITH the foreign object? Does foriegn object trump hard head?

JA: Hey, that's a good question. Let's remember that for "Wrestling Cliches, What If..., Volume 3."

AA: So, should we open the box?

JA: Why not. You ready?

AA: Ready.

JA unties the bow and opens the box. MIDGETS run out of the box and attack The Chickenshit Heels with punches and kicks to the kneecaps. A ref runs in for no apparent reason, but he's quickly attacked by the midgets. The midgets eventually run off into other areas of the Springfield, GA arena (cheap pop!), where they will probably show up in other promos before Moose posts this week's Midweek Mayhem.

Kayfabe attacks AA for writing the last phrase.

JA: What part of a wrestling cliche was that?

AA: Everything's funnier with MIDGETS!

[Tommy]

*Davin Moreland and Samantha Darling are STROLLING~! through the hallway in Springfield. It's clearly been a long evening for the two; although Samantha looks inexplicably HAWT in her Leon Powe Celtics Jersey. They walk past GM the Rick's office, when Rick pops out*

GMtR: You're late.

DM: *stops and turns around slowly* Excuse me?

GMtR: You're late. Everyone's supposed to be in the arena by 11 AM on nights of the show.

DM: Why?

GMtR: Because go fuck yourself, that's why. And it's been in place for a while; so I'm going to have to fine you.

DM: You have an ex-wife or something? There's an awful lot of fining going on. Have some back taxes to pay?

GMtR: $10,000.

DM: For being an hour late? Are you fucking serious? You don't even pay that much for an appearance!

GMtR: I'll expect it by the end of the week.

DM: You have your Treo by Sprint PCS babe?

SD: Of course, dear.

*She hands him the Totally Not A Blackberry. Davin punches a few keys on it.*

DM: There. $10,000 deposited in the OOWF general account; plus there's something a little extra in there. Get Erlana something nice, would ya?

GMtR: You smug son of a bitch.

*Davin, about the walk away, turns violently and backs Rick up against the wall*

DM: You ungrateful piece of shit. After everything I've done for you; you continue to treat me like this. I may not be the Assistant GM anymore, thanks to more of your bitching; but I am YOUR Wold Heavyweight Champion; but even more than that - I, and the rest of Run DEA, am still your fucking meal ticket - so Rick...I suggest....STRONGLY...that you start treating us with respect; your job isn't nearly as secure as you seem to think it is...potsie.

GMtR: Thank you for paying your fine in a timely fashion. Good luck tonight.

DM: Uh huh. And why the fuck is Glaw still here? He should be on the highway with a Hobo Pack by now.

GMtR: Well, there have been objections to that dismissal.

DM: By Traitormask, right? No wonder. Glaw was Traitormask's personal referee. Tell you what, keep Glaw, send Traitormask back to Connecticut. Either way will work for me.

GMtR: You know I can't do that. The issue of Creech remaining on as Senior Referee was also brought up.

DM: Fuck Rick, fire his sorry ass too. He never did me any favors. Shit. Angelo Barros should be the Senior Referee.

GMtR: No bias there, right?

DM: Why? Because we both happen to be from Massachusetts? Seriously? THAT is a conflict, but having Glaw EVER doing a match again here ISN'T? Having a TRAITOR who left for CONNECTICUT for a) The Money and B) to duck Moose; and then just taking him back and bumping people down the ladder as a result ISN'T? Fuck it, Make Hale or Hightower Senior Ref. I don't care. Glaw needs to go. It needs to happen in the very near future, or there will be hell to pay. You could do a survey of the roster if you really want to, but you'll find there is exactly one person here who will want him to stay; that's Traitormask. You claim no favoritism or previous relationships mattering, Rick; what's it gonna be?

GMtR: You'll hear something soon.

DM: That's good, that's good Rick. You have yourself a safe evening.

GMtR: What the fuck does that mean?

*Davin and Samantha turn and walk away without saying anything. They head toward the Run DEA Locker Room and Suites, presented by Aquafina and Starwood Hotels; which includes a trip past the Dunkin Donuts Hospitality Tent, where SFJ420 is sitting, her face covered in Chocolate Donut*

DM: You're still here, Moonbeam?

SFJ420: Dude.......sooooooooooooooo good.

DM: Chocolate Donuts?

SFJ420: Duuuuuude.....

DM: Alright...well, see ya.

SFJ420: WAIT! Um...something....something...respond...something.

SD: You can't be fucking serious.

DM: You want me to respond to someone's comments?

SFJ420: DUDE! You're like...psychic or something...

SD: How the fuck did you do that?

DM: It's ok, honey. I speak burnout. Now Moonbeam...WHO'S comments am I responding to?

SFJ420: Um....um....uh....the one with the...thing...and the...

DM: Concrete TG?

SFJ420: YES!

SD: That's just kind of amazing.

DM: There were comments?

SFJ420: Yeah...you didn't see...hear...anything them?

DM: I didn't. But I'm guessing they're along the lines of "Davin Bad, Traitormask Good"?

SFJ420: Haha...Yeah, kinda.

DM: Ok. Mic then.

*Moonbeam hands him her Interviewing Mic*

DM: Traitormask, you've got quite the set to run your mouth about me or anyone I'm associated with. You have zero credibility when it comes to anything you preach: Loyalty? Duh, you ran to Connecticut when it got too tough for you here. Honesty? You still defend that dirty cheating scum of a referee Glaw, and that's because he calls your matches favorably. Doing things the right way? Please, how many times have you taken advantage of your surroundings? Hell, you tossed a set of STEEL STAIRS on Firewoman for no good reason a couple of weeks ago.

DM: So where does that leave us, Traitormask? It leaves us in one place. You, and everything you claim to stand for, are fraudulent. You're no hero; you're the worst kind of villain. The kind who pretends to be a hero while doing EVERYTHING they claim they're against in the process. Wonder why the cheers have died down a bit, Traitormask? Wonder why the crowds and lines at the autograph signings have dropped? It's not because "nobody respects a true hero anymore" like you would claim. No, it's because people have discovered what a fraud you actually are. I've been talking about this since the very day you got back; and even though the fans hate me right now; the reality is, they've listened - and they know I'm right. They hate to admit it; but I'm usually right, and they know I am about this.

DM: So Traitormask, you've got a couple of choices...Apologize for being a traitor, and admit everything you've done, and demand Glaw's resignation and do everything a face would do; or just fucking leave again. I don't care either way; and I doubt the fans do either at this point. Hell, even Moosehead Jack is tired of you at this point. You're a worthless fraud and a liar, and your hyperbole is equally worthless. So call your insurance company, and make sure your premiums are paid up...

DM: Because if YOU aren't going to leave; then it becomes my responsibility. Being the Champ has it's advantages you know.

*He hands the mic back to Moonbeam*

DM: Don't eat too many more of those; you'll get sick.

SFJ420: Later on, man.

*Samantha and Davin walk into the Run DEA Locker Room and Suites, presented by Aquafina and Starwood Hotels, where they are immediately met by the Darling Twins*

LD: Where the fuck were you?

DM: Um, GO FUCK YOURSELF; that's where we were.

AD: Answer her question.

SD: YOU can go fuck yourself too, little brother.

LD: Goddammit it's like 3 hours to show. Davin, you haven't been here all week!

DM: Was there a point in there somewhere?

LD: The point is you're not prepared for your match.

DM: Bullshit I'm not. Sorry if I got killer courtside seats to the Celtics Opener last night. Sorry if I took the future Ex-Mrs. Moreland here with me. But you need to check yourself.

AD: Wait...Mrs. What?!?

SD: It's a joke, jackass. For christ's sake what is everyone's problem? It's not like he hasn't wrestled that freak before.

DM: Or won...every time. Not saying Traitormask is Chris Cole or anything, but it's headed that way.

LD: I'm just...concerned is all.

DM: *messes up her hair* Oh, don't worry about lil' ol' me.

LD: Fuck you, Davin.

SD: Already missed the boat on that one, Sis. C'Mon Davin, let's get you dressed.

AD: Three hours early.

DM: *grins* It can take a while.

*Davin and Samantha run off to their suite*

LD: I am really angry right about now.

AD: What are you gonna do though, Lex?

LD: I'm gonna knock them both the fuck out; that's what I'm gonna do, brother dear.

AD: Listen, do me a favor. Relax. Davin's gonna be fine. We're all gonna be fine. If I think anything's not fine, I'll talk to him.

LD: Of EVERYONE in this locker room; YOU are gonna talk to him?

AD: Especially me. If it comes to that. Now c'mon; I have to get dressed.

LD: *grins* 3 hours early?

AD: It takes a while.

*fade*

[Concrete TG]

(GMTheRick has assembled the referee corps in his office shortly before the show)

GMtR: Now gentlemen, before I begin you have to understand that this is a matter I've been meaning to tend to since the war ended.

Creech: (grumbles) here it comes...

GMtR: I've reviewed a lot of tape and listened to a lot of talk in this company. Complaints about officiating will always be there, of course, so I'll try my hardest not to jump at every single complaint. However, we need to get you boys in a proper line so that this company can continue to move forward.

Glaw: (doesn't seem relieved, more worried)

GMtR: First of all, I'm getting my usual round of complaints about you, Glaw. You set a horrible precedent when you were "Working" for the Heroes' Guild and people think that you'll be continuing said behavior.

Glaw: I hope you're looking at WHO does the complaining.

GMtR: I am. but until things quiet down a little more, I can't give you back your post.

Creech: (tries not to grin)

GMtR: You're not much better about this mess, Creech. You strongarmed your way into being Senior offiicial, and while you've put in a nice policy about harming refs I'm not letting you keep that post, either.

Creech: WHAT?? Dammit, Rick, I-

GMtR: Made a killing on all those fines, didn't you? Take it and like it, or we start talking about your embezzling of said fines

Creech: (gawks, but says nothing else)

GMtR: (looks to the other three) I don't hear too much about you three, so I'm going to be keeping a very close eye on things over the next few weeks. Hightower, Barros, you two are next in line for this post, I want you to show the ability you have.

Hale: And me, sir?

GMtR: I'd love to, kiddo, but I've seen how well your "Authority" is respected. You need to earn some respect from the wrestlers first.

Hale: (lowers head)

GMtR: I'll be watching ALL of you closely. And until further notice, ALL fines for referee attacks will be directed to General Funds and not YOUR funds. Now, all of you, GET OUT OF MY OFFICE!

[Jack Quinn]

As we tune in for OOWF’s Midweek Mayhem, we are treated to the theme song and opening video montage until Don Pardo comes across the airwaves.

DP: We interrupt your regularly scheduled programming for a special presentation from Democratic presidential candidate Barack Obama. OOWF’s Midnight Mayhem will be aired in its entirety afterwards.

The camera cuts to the opening graphics for Obama’s half-hour campaign commercial. Obama appears on a darkened set, alone.

My fellow Americans. In less than a week, most of you will be headed to the polls to make a momentous decisions. Perhaps the most momentous decision of a generation. Will we continue the failed policies of the past eight years, or will we move forward into the bright light of a hopeful and changed future? It is up to you.

Now, I know what you’re saying. “You disrupted my Wednesday evening programming for this? I fast forward through this shit all day?” My fellow Americans, that’s exactly why I’ve purchased this time. I know you’re fast-forwarding through my ads, and tossed my mailings in the trash, and hung up on my robo-calls. Thanks to President Bush, we know all that stuff. FISA, warrantless wiretapping. It’s been a campaign manager’s dream. And all those little thingies on your key ring you scan to get cash back or cheaper gas? Yep. We know what you buy, when, and how much.

But enough of that. You know how expensive all that marketing is? And you people just toss it aside, and ignore it? It doesn’t matter. Our campaign has raised more money than any other campaign in history, so we may as well blow it all on capturing your attention by taking over every single channel. We know Americans can’t possibly turn off their televisions and have a conversation. Well, okay, we didn’t get ABC, but no one watches them anyway.

I guess the first thing I need to explain to you people is what socialism is. Socialism is “government ownership of the means of production.” According to Karl Marx, socialism will happen when the workers of society recognize their common exploitation and overthrow their capitalist pig-dog bourgeoisie overlords. That may be a little too East-coast Elitist for you all, so let me put it in terms for Joe the Plumber. It’s when the government takes control of an industry that’s important to the society, like say, mortgages and banking. My economic plan is not socialism. My vote on the bailout is socialism. Get it right, Palin.

Secondly, health care. There’s nothing sneaky here. My plan has been accused of replacing private insurance industry bureaucrats with government bureaucrats to decide your health care needs, instead of your doctors. Which… I guess is right, but one thing it won’t do, is appreciably change your health care. It will still be amazingly overpriced compared to other industrialized countries in the world.

Lastly, many assumptions have been made about my heritage and background. So let me put these rumors to rest. I am totally Christian. I know, that may not help, as I’ve got this crazy pastor guy in my past. But really. Do a little digging around McCain, will ya? He’s got crazy pastors coming out the wazoo. Don’t believe me? Do a little googling on Ron Parsley at the World Harvest Church in Columbus.

That’s about all the time we have left. My fellow Americans, please exercise the privilege we have in this great nation. People throughout history and around the world today have fought, bled, been imprisoned and died, all for the right to stand in a ridiculously long line to have a volunteer question their identity and then lead them to a confusing machine without instructions to make a decision about giving tremendous power to people they barely know. Don’t let their sacrifices be in vain. Where available, vote early. Vote early and vote often.

Thank you for your attention this evening, and Allah bless Amer-- I mean God. GOD bless America!!!

The camera fades to black, but the audio fades away so that we can faintly here “Dammit!”

[Jack Quinn]

<we open to Johnny and AA walking through a pumpkin patch, AA looks around and picks the biggest pumpkin he can find, and without a word between either of them, they head back to their locker room. The camera pans into the locker room where we see the Chickenshit Heels carving their pumpkin. After several minutes of careful carving, Johnny takes the top off, puts a candle in the pumpkin and turns it around and we see…..

It’s The Great Pumpkin Attitude Adjuster

<We cut to the outside where Crete walks up to Moosehead Jack. Crete is holding a football>

Crete: Hey Moose, I’ve got a football, how bout practicing a few place kicks? I’ll hold the ball and you come running and kick it

MHJ: Oh brother! I don’t mind the dishonesty half as much as I mind your opinion of me, you must think I’m stupid

CTG: Oh come on Moose

MHJ: No

CTG: I’ll hold it steady

MHJ: No

CTG: Please

MHJ: You just want me to come running up to kick that ball so you can pull it away and I can land flat on my back and kill myself

CTG: This time you can trust me. See? Here is a signed document testifying that I won’t pull it away.

<Moose relents and charges, Crete pulls the ball away and Moose completely misses, flies through the air, and lands flat on his back. Crete gets up, walks over to Moose, who is writhing in pain on the ground and looks at the paper>

CTG: Will ya look at that? Rick never signed this paper

<Moose snarls and gets to his feet and chases Crete>

<We cut back to the Chickenshit Heels locker room where AA is sitting at a table writing a letter>

AA: Dear Great Pumpkin
I’m looking forward to your arrival on Halloween night. I hope you will bring me lots of title belts….

MHJ: Who are you writing to AA?

AA: This is the time of year to write to the Great Pumpkin. On Halloween night the Great Pumpkin rises out of the pumpkin patch with his bag of titles for all the good wrestlers.

MHJ: You must be crazy. When are you going to stop believing in something that isn’t true?

AA: When you stop believing in the man in the red suit and white beard that goes ho-ho-ho.

MHJ: Rick and Erlana?

AA: Touche

<AA Continues writing> You must get discouraged because more people believe in Santa Claus than in you. If you like, I can swerve Santa Claus and give him the claw until he begs for mercy. Just offering.

<as AA is writing this Kayfabe walks in and reads over his shoulder and starts laughing hysterically. Crete walks into the Chickenshit Heels locker room and looks at AA>

CTG: Not again. Writing a letter to a stupid pumpkin? You are going to make us the laughing stock of the online wrestling community. All they talk about is the guy who writes letters asking for championship belts.

<Alexis Darling walks in>

AD: You’re wasting your time! The Great Pumpkin is a fake!

<AD turns and walks out>

<AA continues to write> Everyone tells me you are a fake but I believe in you. PS Just to make sure you are not a fake, could you get me those pics of Babydoll? I want to see what Dusty was hiding.

<Firewoman walks in>

FW: What are you doing AA?

AA: I’d rather not say, you might hit me with an ultrasound machine again

FW: Oh I would NEVER laugh at you AA, you’re SO intelligent <Fire’s words are dripping with sarcasm, but AA doesn’t seem to notice>

AA: I’m writing to the Great Pumpkin

FW: You say the CUTEST things <Fire makes a face like she just swallowed something rotten, again, AA doesn’t notice>

AA: On Halloween night the Great Pumpkin rises from the pumpkin patch and flies through the air to give title belts to all the good wrestlers everywhere. Would you like to sit with me in the pumpkin patch on Halloween night and wait for the Great Pumpkin?

FW: Oh I’d LOVE to <more sarcasm>

MHJ: What’s going on here? What are you trying to do to my future tag team partner?

FW: We are not partners

DM: Yet

MHJ: *wink*

<AA shrugs it off and heads out to mail his letter to the Great Pumpkin>

<We fade, then fade back in where Crete, Erlana and Moose are talking about their costumes>

CTG: A person should always choose a costume that is the direct opposite of their personality

<we see that Crete is wearing a frilly frou frou prom dress>

<Everyone gets their costumes on and we see Moose’s ghost costume has a whole lot of holes in it>

MHJ: I had a little trouble with the scissors

CTG: Not during our matches

<SYB walks up to them under a sheet, evidently being a ghost is the fashionable costume this year>

SYB: <to himself> They’ll never guess it’s me

FW: Hello SYB, glad you could make it

<SYB lifts his sheet and stares incredulously>

SYB: How did you know it was me?

MHJ: Well with a beak like that, it was either you, or the ghost of big bird

SYB: A bus. Find one.

<the OOWF wrestlers, all in costume, walk to the pumpkin patch where AA is sitting with an expectant look on his face>

AA: Did you come to sing Pumpkin Carols?

Stank: Pumkin carols? Are you serious? Is he serious?

AA: Don’t talk like that, the Great Pumpkin knows which wrestlers have been good, and which wrestlers have been bad. You will all be sorry when I am dripping in title belt gold.

FFC: He IS serious

AA: He’s come here because I have the greatest pumpkin patch in the history of pumpkin patches! Folks, I gotta tell ya, this is THE greatest pumpkin patch I have seen in all my years of sitting in pumpkin patches!

FW: Do you REALLY think he will come? <sarcasm, she has it>

AA: Oh yes, tonight the Great Pumpkin rises into the air and…..

Everyone: ENOUGH!

FW: Yeah, that’s a good story

AA: You don’t believe the story?

FW: Did you believe I was pregnant?

AA: ………….yes?

FW: Then I believe you would believe this.

AA: You don’t believe in the Great Pumpkin? I thought little girls always believed everything that was told to them. I thought girls were innocent and trusting?

<Everyone other than Fire and AA burst out laughing, Fire shoots them all a death glare. Everyone turns to walk away leaving AA alone in the pumpkin patch. Fire looks back several times, then looks at someone else>

FW: Do I HAVE to do this?

Voice: Yes

FW: I have a veto dammit!

Voice: You can’t veto promos

FW: I REALLY hate you

<With that Fire turns around and walks back to AA in the Pumpkin patch>

AA: I’m glad you came back Fire

FW: If you touch me, I will kill you.

<The collected OOWF wrestlers are walking through the streets of Springfield Georgia>

All: TRICK OR TREAT!

<they all look at their loot after treats are handed out, and suspicious looks are given>

CTG: I got a red bull energy bar!

SYB: I GOT A PENNY! A WHOLE FUCKING PENNY! THIS RULES!

Stank: I think she was calling the cops on me…….

MHJ: I got a rock. <Moose gets an evil grin and whips the rock at Crete>

CTG: OW! <Crete falls over>

MHJ: No I have a red bull energy bar!

<They repeat the process several times>

Skurge: I got a pack of Big League chew!

SYB: A NICKEL! HOLY SHIT I WILL BE RICH!

Fezzik: Jack Link’s beef jerky?

CTG: I got a whole Take 5!

MHJ: I got a rock <he wings it at Crete’s head, Crete ducks the rock, but can’t avoid the heart punch that follows> I love Take 5

<One last time, we see the OOWFers trick or treating>

The Amnesiac: I uh, I forgot what I got

Tytan: I got supplements!

SYB: I got…..UNICEF? WHAT THE FUCK IS UNICEF! HEY! YOU! INSIDE! MAKE WITH THE CASH! NOW! YEAH I SEE YOU IN THERE! DON’T MAKE ME COME IN THERE!

<the door opens slightly and someone tosses out a penny, SYB jumps on it greedily>

SYB: THAT’S WHAT I FUCKING THOUGHT!

CTG: Did you just shake down the neighborhood? Oh look, I got <WHAM! Crete gets BRAINED by, a rock>

EOM: HA!

<we cut to the OOWF Halloween Party where there are lots of activities. We see Darling and others playing pin the tail on the donkey, of course it quickly devolves into people getting stabbed repeatedly with the pin. In another corner of the room, Poe and Tytan are bobbing for apples, though it looks suspiciously like they are really just holding SYB and Skurges heads under the water. Finally Eric, LD, Moose and Davin walk to the middle of the room and the room gets quiet>

Alas my love you do me wrong
To cast me off discourteously……

GM The Rick: Wait wait wait. We have heard that before, don’t you have something a little more appropriate for the party?

The four of them start:

I was working in the lab late one night
When my eyes beheld an eerie sight
For my monster from his slab began to rise
And suddenly to my surprise

Then everyone else joins in:

He did the mash
He did the monster mash
The monster mash
It was a graveyard smash
He did the mash
It caught on in a flash
He did the mash
He did the monster mash


From my laboratory in the castle east
To the master bedroom where the vampires feast
The ghouls all came from their humble abodes
To get a jolt from my electrodes


They did the mash
They did the monster mash
The monster mash
It was a graveyard smash
They did the mash
It caught on in a flash
They did the mash
They did the monster mash


The zombies were having fun
The party had just begun
The guests included Wolf Man
Dracula and his son


The scene was rockin', all were digging the sounds
Igor on chains, backed by his baying hounds
The coffin-bangers were about to arrive
With their vocal group, "The Crypt-Kicker Five"


They played the mash
They played the monster mash
The monster mash
It was a graveyard smash
They played the mash
It caught on in a flash
They played the mash
They played the monster mash


Out from his coffin, Drac's voice did ring
Seems he was troubled by just one thing
He opened the lid and shook his fist
And said, "Whatever happened to my Transylvania twist?"


It's now the mash
It's now the monster mash
The monster mash
And it's a graveyard smash
It's now the mash
It's caught on in a flash
It's now the mash
It's now the monster mash


Now everything's cool, Drac's a part of the band
And my monster mash is the hit of the land
For you, the living, this mash was meant too
When you get to my door, tell them Boris sent you


Then you can mash
Then you can monster mash
The monster mash
And do my graveyard smash
Then you can mash
You'll catch on in a flash
Then you can mash
Then you can monster mash

<we fade from the party back to the pumpkin patch>

FW: This is insane! If anyone had told me that I would be sitting with YOU in a pumpkin patch, I would have told them they were insane!

AA: Just think, when the Great Pumpkin rises out of the pumpkin patch, we will be there to see him! Maybe you will even get a title belt too!

<a low moaning noise is heard>

AA: Is that him? Is that him? THERE HE IS! THE GREAT PUMPKIN IS RISING OUT OF THE PUMPKIN PATCH!!! HE’s REAL HE’S REAL! <AA swoons and faints and we see it is only Capslock and Stank in their costumes. They show themselves and laugh hysterically>

FFC: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH GOTCHA!!!

Sta: That was AWESOME! Let’s go celebrate

AA: <coming to> What happened? Did I faint? What did he leave us? Did he leave us title belts?

FW: YOU IDIOT! I WASTED MY NIGHT OUT HERE IN A STUPID PUMPKIN PATCH WHEN I COULD HAVE BEEN AT THE PARTY WITH JERICHO GETTING HIM AND I BOTH DRUNK!! <Fire grabs AA and FIRESTOMPS him and storms off angrily>

AA: Hey! Aren’t you going to wait? It won’t be long now! Maybe I’ll put in a good word for you <under his breath> you heartless skank>

<hours pass and we see AA sleeping in the pumpkin patch, shivering violently. Johnny Adrenaline walks up to him and shakes his head and pulls him up and drags him back to the arena to the locker room and throws him in a cot on the floor>

<We cut to the next day where AA is sitting with his feet in a tub of hot water, a hot water bottle on his head, and a thermometer sticking out of his mouth. AA is shivering and sneezing, clearly he caught a cold>

JA: Great Pumpkin never showed up did he?

AA: Nope

JA: Don’t feel too bad, I have don lots of stupid things in my life.

AA: STUPID? I’LL HAVE YOU KNOW THAT THE GREAT PUMPKIN IS REAL! HE WOULD HAVE COME TO THE PUMPKIN PATCH LAST NIGHT IF NOT FOR CAPSLOCK AND STAAAAAA-CHOOOO! DAMMIT! NEXT YEAR IT WILL BE DIFFERENT! WHERE ARE WE NEXT HALLOWEEN? IT DOESN’T MATTER I WILL PROVE ALL OF YOU WRONG I WILL SHOW YOU ALL HOW IT IS! YOU’LL……

<Johnny tunrs to the camera and gives it a knowing look, then smiles>

JA: Happy Halloween everyone!

<Fade>

[Road Warrior Shark]

Out Freaking Standing

'Zalt

[The Jewish Cunthead]

*OOC* That was... slightly humorous.

[Jack Quinn]

OOWF MidWeek Mayhem
Live! From Springfield, Georgia

Midweek Mayhem begins as the lights slowly rise on a darkened room. The camera pans around the room. We see Tytan lying on a couch, the Trios title belt draped across his chest as three beautiful girls in togas feed him grapes. Not far from Tytan we see Selena, dressed as a witch with orange streaks in her hair peering into a large bubbling cauldron as if she dropped an earring in there. In the distant corner, Eric O’ Mac sits on the arm of a chair, the Trios title draped over his shoulder. He appears bored and as if he doesn’t want to be here. Finally the camera pans to the center, where Poe stands before the camera, this trademark bloody towel covering his face.

Poe: Greetings OOWF fans and welcome to a very special edition of Midweek Mayhem. We before you are Gods & Monsters, the greatest team this sport has ever known. We shall be your hosts this evening. Tonight is a show for the ages. Tonight, you will see a Mayhem packed with violence like no other…the only way to truly enjoy this sport. First up…you will see Damon Wrath take on…ugh, the Boy known as Alexander Darling. I do indeed hope this is a brutal match. I do like to watch the Boy suffer greatly.

Selena rushes over.

SG: The Boy will be just another victim of my mas…

EOM: That’s Taz’s line!

Selena and Poe are quiet for a moment.

SG: The cute little cartoon dude? Did I miss that one?

EOM: Oh Jesus Christ…

T: Wrong Taz.

The girls stop feeding Tytan grapes.

T: I didn’t say you could stop.

Selena looks up to Poe with a slight pout.

SG: Who’s Taz?

Poe: Enjoy the show.

ALEXANDER DARLING vs. DAMON WRATH

“The Mirror” by Dream Theater fires up and Damon Wrath makes his way down the ramp to the murmurs of the crowd. He climbs into the ring without fanfare and kind of starts talking to himself. Well, that’s a little odd. The music starts a white strobe light begins to bounce through the arena and the first thing heard is ”There Can Be Only One.” That leads directly into ”Prelude 12/21.” The drum beat of Prelude hits and Darling takes a step onto the ramp. He doesn’t move until it finishes and a blue spotlight focuses on him and then ”Princes of the Universe” starts. Alexander and Alexis Darling make their way down the ramp to the massive boos of the crowd, but they both smugly ignore them. Alexander gets his usual “good luck” kiss from his sister and climbs into the ring; making the “Darling Driver” gesture and getting booed even more. Darling just smiles knowingly, completely dismissive of the crowd reaction. Junior Hale checks on both participants and calls for the bell…WE’RE UNDERWAY!

Lockup to start, and the bigger Damon Wrath gets the advantage, but only for a couple of steps; as Darling quickly lets go and clips Wrath on the knee. However, Darling’s momentum takes him completely to the mat, and Wrath works quickly into the WrathXFace! Hale is checking on Darling, and he might already be in trouble. After about 15 seconds of this, and no movement by Darling; Alexis Darling hops up onto the apron and “distracts” Hale (easy enough to do), which allows Darling to drill Wrath in the balls with a mule kick, breaking the hold. Alexis hops off the apron, and Hale turns around to see both men laid out on the mat, and so he starts a count. Wrath is up first at 5, and starts a stomp-fest on the back of Darling’s head. Quick Scoop Pile driver from Wrath is enough to cover, and that gets two. He hefts Darling up, and hits a BIG JACKNIFE POWERBOMB which sends Darling across the ring. Wrath covers again, but Darling grabs the rope, and Hale sees it at 2.

Frustrated, Wrath gets up and starts talking to himself again; intermittently stomping on Darling, and then walking away. Finally, after doing this 4 times, he grabs Darling, and pulls him up, hitting a Side Suplex. Wrath runs the ropes and hits a Big Knee to the Face! The cover gets 2. Wrath slaps the mat like 400 times and snarls at Hale, who’s kind of not paying attention. He pulls up Darling again, and signals for the LIGHTS OUT (by doing the Shawne Merriman ‘I Shoot Roids’ dance, obviously). He locks on the ARM BAR, but when he goes for the Spin Kick, Darling manages to duck, and with Wrath turned around, clips him in the back of the head with an ENZIGURI! Both men are down again, and Hale eventually gets around to starting a count.

Darling is up at 5 and just mounts Wrath and starts beating the holy hell out of him with some Greco Roman Punches To The Face. This eventually busts his nose open; but Darling is still hurt from before, so he finally stops swinging and kind of collapses on the mat. Hale is about to count again, but Wrath is able to kick Darling right in the ribs, sending him across the ring. Wrath is up and starts yelling at himself again. He walks over to Darling and pulls him up, just to start assaulting him with Right Hands to the Ribs. This goes on for a bit, before Darling rears back and just PASTES Wrath in the mouth, staggering him backward. Darling takes a deep breath, and in yelling, obviously in some pain, lifts up Wrath and hits him with DA BRAINBUSTAAAAAAAHHHHH! Darling takes a couple of seconds to recover, and goes back over to a LOOPY Wrath. He dead lifts Wrath up again, and hits a DARLING DRIVER~! The crowd starts to boo at this turn of events. Darling, still favoring the ribs, clearly, doesn’t cover Wrath surprisingly, instead, he pulls Wrath up. What’s he doing? DARLING VICE! After 30 seconds or so, Wrath drops to his knees, and not too long after that; Wrath has no choice but to tap out.
WINNER in 11:24 by SUBMISSION…ALEXANDER DARLING


Fade in to Selena staring at a skull with ornate carvings on it. She’s moving it around, looking it over as if it were a fine jewel. Something signals her and she finally looks to the camera.

SG: Well that was a fun match. Although the Boy won…hmm…maybe it wasn’t so fun…yeah, anyway, next up is that skank FireWoman versus cry-baby Tyson Kincaid with Lance Storm in his corner, which is someone I’ve never heard of.

EOM: You’ve never heard of Lance Storm?!

Selena turns to Eric.

SG: Is he famous of something?

Eric rolls his eyes, draping his two title belts over his shoulder and pacing near the back of the room.

Selena shrugs and looks back to the camera.

SG: Enjoy the match.

Selena looks at the skull again and licks it as we fade…

FIREWOMAN vs. TYSON KINCAID

Before the match begins, we get a video package of Tyson Kincaid demanding Firewoman address her abandonment of him in the minors, and Firewoman's incredibly cold hearted response and Tyson’s revelation. This promises to be a dramatic match, folks, as even with the revelations made by these two, there’s a whole bunch of unanswered questions. The opening sounds of "Idle Hands" by the Gutter Twins begins, and Tyson Kincaid walks down the ramp to cheers from the crowd that remembers his apparently fluke defeat of Moosehead Jack at Doomy Doomy Doom Doom. Then, Tyson's former trainer and mentor, Lance Storm comes through the curtain, in street wear, and follows him down, increasing the cheers. Kincaid looks around a bit nervously, and goes up the steps to enter the ring, followed by Lance. Lance does the manly pre-match rubdown of Tyson's shoulders and gives him words of encouragement, as the lights go down and the flamepots flare up as "Firewoman" hits the audio, and Firewoman hits the stage, accompanied by Alexander Darling. The crowd boos them as they make their way down the ramp. Firewoman jumps up onto the apron and steps through the ropes into the ring and Alexander assumes the position in her corner. She looks mockingly at Tyson. Lance, who was also her trainer, holds out his hand to say good luck. She gives him the look of death for a minute, but then shakes his hand. She turns away and looks at Alexander who raises his arms and says "What the fuck?" She just shrugs her shoulders and runs the ropes while Tyson jumps in place to get ready to go.

Just before the referee calls for the bell, another figure comes down the ramp. It's Chris Jericho!! The ban must have been lifted at the last minute! He comes down the ramp, in impeccably tailored suit, to even louder boos and stands in Firewoman's corner. He and Alexander lock eyes for a bit, and Jericho makes the international sign of "Shoo!" directing him back stage. Alexander points to his own teeth and says "I still have all of mine." Alexander looks at Firewoman who shrugs and waves goodbye to him. Alexander says "Fine," throws his arms down and stalks to the back, to a healthy chorus from the crowd of "Na Na Na Na Hey Hey Goodbye." Lance nods to Jericho, who nods back. Lance leaves the ring and finally again, we are ready to start.

Firewoman starts out a bit more casually than usual, and she kind of has no choice, as Tyson seems incredibly reluctant to lock up. Kincaid gives Fire a sly smile, is he really reluctant, or is he toying with her? They dance around a while, with Firewoman growing increasingly frustrated. Lance is yelling at Tyson to get in there. Firewoman looks to the referee and says, "Come on...." Jericho yells across to Lance, "I told you he didn't have what it takes." But that appears to be exactly what it takes, because Tyson hears him and runs towards Firewoman for the opening lock up. Firewoman pushes him towards the ropes at first, but then Tyson's strength takes over and he pushes her back the other way until she's against the ropes, and the referee has to break the hold. Tyson turns his back to go back towards the center, and Fire sees her opportunity to clobber him on the back of the head. Tyson drops to one knee, and Firewoman comes around him with a roundhouse kick that sprawls him backwards. Firewoman goes over to her corner and high fives Jericho, but Tyson doesn't stay down for long, and he is up. Firewoman turns back around into a clothesline. She's up in a flash, but Tyson grabs her arm and Irish whips her into the near ropes. She bounces back with an elbow, which again catches Tyson by surprise, and he's back down again. Tyson lays there for a bit, contemplating the paths his life has taken, as Firewoman circles him, doing the slow-mock clap. The referee encourages her to step back to give Tyson some space, and when she does, Tyson stands. He looks at her.... looking for something, but he apparently doesn't see it. Lance gets the crowd to clap along to encourage him, and Firewoman... she blows him a kiss? Well that may not have been what he was looking for, but it has some effect because suddenly, he surprises Fire with a clothesline the knocks her out of her boots. She gets up a bit more slowly to her feet, only to be hit with another clothesline. She gets up again, and Tyson whips her into the corner, and follows her in for one, two, three slaps. The crowd “WOOOs” appreciatively. Firewoman pushes Tyson away and staggers towards the center of the ring, trying to catch her breath. Tyson senses his opportunity and grabs Firewoman from behind, and NORTHERN LIGHTS SUPLEX. He pins Firewoman, but she’s far from done and kicks out at 1. Fire rolls away from him as Jericho jumps up on the apron. The referee tells him to get down, as Lance yells at him, too. Fire shakes the cobwebs away and runs towards Tyson, driving him back with a left, than a right, then a left. He hits the corner, and Fire climbs to the second rope to start the one-through-ten punch, but after only two, Tyson blocks the third and TIGER BOMB. Fire is down again, and Jericho is up on the apron. Lance is up also, yelling at him to not interfere. The referee goes to remind them they aren’t even signed here, and to get down. While his back is turned, Firewoman hits a low blow on Tyson that lays him out for a bit, so she can get her bearings. While she’s thinking, she lays a bunch of stomps to keep him down. But one kick is misplaced, and Tyson grabs it. He pulls Firewoman off her feet and tries to set up the FIGURE FOUR, but Firewoman kicks him away. He grabs both of her legs, and although Fire kicks frantically, Tyson manages to get her into a HALF BOSTON CRAB. The referee checks on her, but she shakes her head. All that yoga makes her really flexible, but is it enough? Jericho and Lance are both pounding on the canvas. Firewoman tries to make her way to ropes. She inches her way over there slowly… .slowly… she reaches…. And Jericho pulls her arm to the rope! The ref makes Tyson break the hold, and then admonishes Jericho that if he gets involved again, he’s out of here. Jericho puts his arms up to protest his innocence, as Lance comes around the corner and the two have words. Back in the ring, Firewoman is holding her left leg, while trying to balance on the right. Tyson appears to be the one on fire, and he kicks out Firewoman’s right leg, then leaps over her onto the top turnbuckle to go for the MOONSAULT. But Firewoman gets her knees up, and Tyson bounces off to the side, holding his ribs. Fire sees her opportunity and goes for it. She goes back to the stompy-kicky, then runs back to bounce off the far ropes, and baseball kicks Tyson. He doesn’t get quite out of the ring, and Jericho comes around to perhaps correct that, but Lance gets there first. Jericho goes back to Fire’s corner, as Tyson recovers and stands. Firewoman bounces off the far ropes to get her momentum, then off the ropes behind Tyson, and bounces off to a BULLDOG!. She gets around behind Tyson, and pulls his arms back, setting him up for the Firestomp. But somehow, Tyson gets an arm free, rolls over and kicks Firewoman back. She staggers backwards, and Tyson is up and grabs her and picks her up for the Spinning Fireman’s Carry. But Jericho reaches in and grabs Tyson’s foot, which distracts him long enough for Firewoman to wiggle free. Lance is FURIOUS and leaps up on to the apron. The referee steps over to insist he get off the apron or be removed, while Lance is determined to give details of the shenanigans the referee missed. With this distraction, Jericho tosses a chair in the ring for Firewoman. She swings at Tyson, who ducks, and then as she recoils for another strike, Tyson grabs the other end of the chair. The referee turns back from admonishing Lance to see Firewoman and Tyson playing tug-of-war with the chair, and has no choice but to call for the bell. NO CONTEST.
WINNER – No Contest in 17:39

Firewoman and Jericho are FURIOUS, and try to plead their case with the referee, but it’s not working. Tyson and Lance begin to walk up the ramp, and Tyson looks relieved and more confident that he’s been in weeks.

We fade in to Selena standing in front of Eric O’Mac.

EOM: What?

SG: Why are you being mean to me?

EOM: It’s just what I do darlin’

Selena moves in closer and touched Eric on top of his head. Eric slaps her hand away.

EOM: Dude, Poe, I told you to keep your little crazy bitch away from me…

Poe comes up behind Selena, touching her shoulders and moving her away from Eric as she pouts. Poe glares at Eric for a moment before turning to face the camera.

Poe: Selena, my goddess, please introduce the next match.

SG: Up next is Drink & Destroy versus Outback Jack & LD Williams. Hey, didn’t LD help you & Uncle Moose attack Run DEA?

Poe: Yes he did indeed. ‘Twas a very fun day.

T: Uncle Moose???

SG: This match is gonna be brutal.

Selena smiles wide.

Poe: Enjoy the match…

fade

DRINK & DESTROY vs. FEAR US

Donnybrook at the bell. Stank and Jack pair up, as Capslock puts the beats on Williams. They switch up, and Stank kicks LDW around. OBJ goes to FFC's eyes and dumps him to the floor. Some double teaming on Stank, but Stank takes both guys down with a double clothesline. Capslock back in and D&D pinball both guys around the ring with lefts and rights until Williams and Jack stumble into each other, and stereo big boots send both to the floor. Stank and Lock follow out, but Fear Us is playing possum, and Jack sucker punches Stank while Williams clips Lock's knee. They go to work on D&D on the floor while referee Hightower tries to gain control of the match. Jack sends Stank hard to the apron and suplexes him in the aisle way. Williams slams Lock's knee off the stairs, then stomps it on the concrete for good measure. Jack up slowly after selling the suplex, but he walks into a goozle by Stank. To his feet, but Stank kicks him in the knee, then tosses him into the crowd. Williams tries to drag FFC into the ring, but Lock kicks him away with the free leg. Williams comes back at him, but Capslock backdrops him over the top rope and to the floor. Hightower starts a count, but Capslock shoves him away and follows back out to the floor. Jack pulls Stank back over the rail and into the aisle, but Stank blocks his attempt and drops OBJ across the guardrail. FFC military press slams Williams on the floor, and they set up for the DUI on Jack ON THE CONCRETE! But referee Hightower interjects and demands everyone get back to the ring. Stank gets in Hightower's face, and that allows Williams to sneak back up from behind and nail Stank with a high knee to the back, sending Stank caroming into the ref, and Hightower's seen enough and calls for the bell. The two teams brawl up the aisle way and to the back as the match is thrown out.
WINNER in 6:30: NO CONTEST


Poe stands before the camera. He slowly opens his leather duster to reveal his Trio Championship belt. As he does that, Selena crawls under his legs and kneels on her knees in front of him ala the Beautiful People. Selena points behind her to the belt, never taking her eyes off the camera.

Tytan comes up behind Poe, draping the Trios belt over his shoulder, and then crossing his arms in a pose. Eric comes up behind Poe to the other side, also draping the belt over his shoulder, but looking bored.

Poe: We are Gods & Monsters, the Trios Champions. Tonight, we will defeat IHOP for the third time in a week. Let’s go boys.

The leave with Selena in tow, but Poe turns, places both hands on Selena’s shoulders, stopping her.

Poe: You need to stay here to introduce the next match little one.

Selena pouts and jumps on the couch that Tytan was lying on, with her arms and legs crossed.

SG: *pouty* I never get to have any fun.

One of Tytan’s Roman girls holds some grapes over Selena.

SG: Yes please!

fade

<we cut to the ring expecting a match, but things are never what we expect in the OOWF>

*"The Tower" by Ice T comes on the PA system. Eric O'Mac, in wrestling gear, comes down the ramp, holding some flowers. He rolls in the ring, and grabs a mic to address the crowd.*

Eric: You know I come out here week after week - you people have made it pretty clear how you feel about me - what's that word you call me?

*The crowd starts chanting "ASSHOLE...ASSHOLE!" Eric smiles as he puts his hand up.*

Eric: Yeah, you've made it pretty clear how you feel about me, but just for the record - just so you know, I feel the EXACT same way about EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU.

*The crowd boos. Loudly.*

Eric: So now that we've cleared that up - you know how I feel, I know how you feel - I'd like to ask ya a little question.

I'd like to know... I'd like to know how all of you feel about my beautiful bride Fiona Michelle. I'm a little bit confused about it because through the grapevine, on the internet message boards, I've been reading what you people have been saying. Oh yes, you people began to call her things like...slut...skank...whore...you know you people make me sick!

*More booing.*

Eric: It never ceases to amaze me how you can kill something beautiful - talk about something beautiful, and pure - and you people crap all over her! And the fact of the matter is, you're wrong. And the reason I know you're wrong, Fiona Michelle is no slut, oh no because Eric O'Mac would never marry a slut, at least not intentionally. I mean, marrying a slut or something like that, and somebody slips a mickey in your drink, and you get all sloshed, and you end up at some cheap chapel somewhere, passed out, and have a shotgun - no, I mean a shot glass wedding. And that is not Fiona Michelle. She is no slut. But now, she sends me annulment papers. You can't imagine my surprise - this hit me completely out of nowhere! I NEVER saw this coming. Annulment papers. And the truth of the matter is, I can't help but blame YOU for all of this! We were two kids in love! And again, you people have to kill something beautiful. It's you that made this happen, with your chants of 'Slut.' You drove her to this. She couldn't take it. So she comes to me, and dammit - she wants out.

*Eric starts breaking into tears that are obviously fake.*

Eric: She wants to call it quits. I mean, I guess if that's what she wants - I mean, hell, I can't do it by myself - I mean, I know how I feel about her, and I know she loves me, I mean - God, there's just so much passion there, but I'm not gonna hold it together by myself...I mean, it's not like, I mean - the kids'll get over it - oh right, we don't have any kids, but who gives a crap anyways, right? So, if that's what she really wants, then I've come to the conclusion that...Fiona Michelle...come out here and I'll sign these papers if that's what you really want. Come on out - and I'll sign these annulment papers - and I'll let you walk away from our wedded bliss."

* Fiona Michelle Denton walks out to no music with an angry face. Eric O'Mac is faking his sad, as he hands Fiona Michelle the flowers when she enters the ring. Fiona Michelle throws the flowers into the crowd, to Eric's surprise.*

Eric: Fiona, I understand you're a Denton, you're hot-headed - but, you know I called you out here with all intents and purposes of signing these annulment papers..."

*Eric continues to talk while checking out Fiona's ass...*

Eric:...but now that I get a look at you standing out here, I'm ... startin' to get all warm and fuzzy inside - especially from certain angles! Fiona, you don't know how much you mean to me - I mean, it just won't be the same without you in my life! How can I kick your friend's ass without you sitting there watching? Who can I get in their face and laugh to, if not you? I mean, Fiona...YOU ... complete ... ME!

*The crowd starts their asshole chant, yet again.*

Eric: You know what I'm saying? You complete me. And Fiona Michelle, I, I just - I can't sign these - I just - I can't find it in myself to do it.

*Fiona grabs the mic.*

FMD: I'm tired of your games you insincere son of a BITCH.

*Eric has a shocked look on his face.*

FMD: I hope Amnesiac kicks your ass tonight!

*Fiona Michelle Denton steps out of the ring and heads up the ramp, dropping the microphone. Eric starts to walk after her...but he's taken down from behind by the Amnesiac! Amnesiac starts punching Eric, Eric is trying to cover up, but Amnesiac has a clear advantage...until Poe and Tytan come down the ramp and pull Amnesiac off Eric! But IHOP aren't far behind....the referees split up the two sides, send them to their respective corners....and ring the bell! The Trios match is underway!*

GODS & MONSTERS and ERIC O’MAC vs. IHOP & THE AMNESIAC – OOWF Campeonas de Trios Title Match

IHOP and the Amnesiac, accompanied by the Lovely and Talented Dorothy Mantooth, come down the aisle first. Amnesiac looks dejected, Skurge looks pissed, and SYB appears to be talking to himself. The three men enter the ring and glare up at the entrance as the new champions are introduced. Gods & Monsters and Eric O’ Mac, joined by Selena, pause on the stage and hold up their titles before heading down the aisle. Referee Angelo Barros keeps the challengers in their corner as the champions enter the ring and pose on the turnbuckles. G&M and IHOP leave the ring, and Eric and The Amnesiac start off as Barros calls for the bell.
They circle and lock up, and The Amnesiac snaps off an arm drag. Eric rolls to his feet and walks into a second one, but this time The Amnesiac holds on into an arm bar. Eric works his way to his feet, and The Amnesiac catches him with a knee to the stomach. He tries for a DDT, but Eric shoves him off and levels him with a kick to the head. Eric pulls The Amnesiac to his feet and rocks him with punches, backing him to the ropes. An Irish whip is followed by a beautiful dropkick to the face, and Eric drags him to the corner and tags in Tytan.
Tytan batters The Amnesiac in the corner, then pulls him out and slings him to the ropes, leveling him with the Decapitator. Tytan goes for the Super kick as The Amnesiac gets up, but he ducks it, catching his foot. The Amnesiac twists Tytan’s leg and takes him off his feet, and tries for an ankle lock, but Tytan kicks him off. Tytan rolls to his feet, but The Amnesiac goes to the ropes, where Skurge makes a blind tag, and hits a low tackle on Tytan. Skurge is in right behind him and they each grab a leg and make a wish. Tytan writhes on the mat in pain, and Skurge comes off the ropes with an elbow to the face. He pulls Tytan to his feet, slings him to the ropes, and plants him with a power slam. He hooks the leg, but Poe breaks up the count at two.
SYB storms the ring and tackles Poe, to little effect. Poe lifts SYB in a two handed choke and drives him to the mat. SYB rolls to the outside as Barros sends Poe back to his corner. Skurge is up and pulls Tytan to his feet, but Tytan catches him with an uppercut, following up with a knee to the midsection and running Skurge into the G&M corner. Tytan reaches to tag Poe, but SYB yanks Poe’s legs out from under him, and Poe slams chin first into the apron. Tytan lunges at SYB, which gives Skurge the opportunity to roll him up from behind. Eric breaks it up just before The Amnesiac hits him with a running clothesline that topples both men to the outside.
SYB and The Amnesiac drive Poe headfirst into the ringside barrier. They turn to Eric, and are met with twin low blows. They stumble back, and Poe drops The Amnesiac with a reverse DDT while Eric launches himself from the floor into a flying clothesline on SYB. As the brawl continues on the outside, Skurge and Tytan are dueling with punches inside the ring. Tytan gains the advantage and sends Skurge to the ropes, where Eric casually reaches in and trips him. Tytan pounces, kicking and beating him down before dragging him to the corner. He sets Skurge on the top rope and goes for the Ultimo Ending, but SYB escapes the brawl and darts into the ring, pulling Tytan down. Tytan Gorilla presses SYB and tosses him to the outside, where Poe catches him and turns it into a power slam on the floor. Tytan turns back to the corner and Skurge launches himself off the second rope for a flying clothesline, but Tytan mirrors Poe, turning Skurge’s momentum into a snap powerslam. He covers, and Poe and Eric keep The Amnesiac at bay long enough for Barros to count the three.
WINNERS, and still OOWF Campeonas de Trios Champions, in 20:09, Gods & Monsters and Eric O’Mac.

After the match: Eric and Poe re-enter the ring and toss Skurge to the outside. The champions scale the turnbuckles and bask in the crowd’s disgust as Skurge and the Amnesiac, carrying SYB between them, make their way to the back.


Selena is still sitting on the couch, being fed grapes. Something signals her.

SG: Oh…

Selena removes a half eaten grape from her mouth and tosses it behind her.

SG: Weren’t my guys great? And did you see Solly’s face? OhmyGod that was awesome!

Someone signals Selena.

SG: Oh, yeah, next up is Chris Cole defending his newly won Onslaught Championship versus the crazy Irishman Seamus McNasty.

Selena laughs.

SG: Seamus is a funny dude. This one time…

Something or someone is signaling Selena.

SG: We don’t have time for that? Aww…it was so funny…

The signals continue. Selena crosses her arms and sits back against the couch.

SG: Fine…enjoy the match. *Mutters* It was a funny story…

fade

CHIRS COLE vs. SEAMUS MCNASTY – OOWF Onslaught Championship Match

Sterling Glaw is YOUR referee!

Seamus out first to a strong reaction. He salutes the crowd and enters the ring, immediately turning back to the entrance before Cole's music even hits. Cole marches down, showing off the title - and grimacing slightly when he sees Glaw in the ring. He enters the ring but never takes his eyes of Seamus. Glaw takes the belt, looks it over almost forlornly before holding it up to the crowd. (Russ: "Is he talking to the Onslaught title?" Razz: "It's his favorite next to the world title - bet he's still sad that it had to spend time bein defended on anything BUT pure rules"). Glaw hands over the belt and calls for the bell.

Slow circling to start. The two lock up dead center of the ring, and neither seem to get headway immediately. Cole slips Seamus's head into a headlock, cinching it hard. Seamus flails, but is able to steady his feet and shove Cole to the ropes. Cole slams shoulders with Seamus- and Seamus GLARES back at Cole. "DO IT AGAIN!" he screams, and Cole does - to the same result! Seamus is grinning huge now, and Coles third attempt gets him running the ropes a second time before he's tripped with a drop toe hold! Seamus going early for the IRISH CAR BOMB but Cole wriggles free before the crossface is completely applied. The two stand and face off again, Cole's expression darkening and Seamus' smile fading. Again they lock up, this time Seamus with the advantage as he gets Cole's arm in an arm wringer, twisting tight and chaining into a hammerlock. Cole angrily slaps his shoulder til Seamus shoves Cole to the ropes face first, staggering him and letting Seamus give him a release German suplex. Early cover is a 1 count, Cole to his feet holding the back of his head and staring daggers into Seamus. Cole lunges with a closed fist and gets a warning from Glaw. Seamus smirks at the warning and SLAPS Cole. Cole SLAPS Seamus back and gets in Glaw's face that it's the ONSLAUGHT title and not a PURE RULES title. Seamus charges but ends up running over Glaw in the process! REF BUMP! Seamus is too busy pounding the daylights out of Cole to notice. He hauls Cole up for the BLACK AND TAN, but Cole slips free, wheels Seamus around and slams him to the mat with a PIVOT SPINEBUSTER! Glaw has fallen out of the ring at this point and Cole calls to the ramp to send in another referee. Cole backs away from the ropes and gets snagged by a recovering Seamus! BLACK AND TAN!! Glaw's still out and Davis Hightower is hurrying down the ramp, but he gets there for a two count only! Seamus is furious but can only blame himself for taking Glaw out to begin with. Cole is still groggy so Seamus drags him off the mat and throws him into the corner - hard. Seamus stomps over and tries to put Cole up on the ropes to finish him off with a Celtic Cross, but Cole starts to struggle! The two trade punches before Cole launches off the rope with a Tornado DDT! Seamus is stunned, and Cole sees his chance! He drags the bigger man to the center of the ring and applies his RAISED TEXAS CLOVERLEAF, which doesn't wake Seamus immediately. Once he takes a couple of knees to the neck he screams and curses, but can't move, and is forced to tap out.
WINNER in 14:49 and STILL YOUR OOWF ONSLAUGHT CHAMPION - Chris Cole

After the match, Hightower helps Glaw to the back. Glaw does not look pleased.


Poe, Tytan, and Eric O’Mac re-enter the studio to a jumping and clapping Selena.

SG: You guys were awesome yay!

Tytan passes her towards his couch.

T: Thanks Selena…couldn’t ask for a better welcome back.

Tytan winks and Poe, who just stares back, and then shakes his head.

SG: You too Eric, you did good.

EOM: Yeah I know…

Eric looks at Poe.

EOM: Thanks Selena.

Poe: Your wife would be proud.

EOM: Don’t push it.

Tytan takes his reclining position on the couch, the Roman girls continuing with the grape feeding.

T: Time to move on to bigger and better things.

SG: Like Phantos & Lucios? They’re up next.

T: Are they?

Tytan gets off the couch and walks up to the camera.

T: Listen up you punk ass bitches. That little incident in the locker room? That was just the beginning. You saw what we did to IHOP and the Amnesiac. We’re gonna revel in the pain we’re gonna cause you. You’re gonna want to retire from this business forever. We’re gonna…

Tytan is stopped by Poe’s hand on his shoulder.

Poe: Phantos & Lucios defend the World Tag Team Titles against the Chickenshit Heels…next.

T: They’re gonna be our belts…

SG: Haha you said shit!

PHANTOS & LUCIOS vs. THE CHICKENSHIT HEELS – OOWF World Tag Team Title Match

Davis Hightower is Our referee.

Phantos and Johnny Adrenaline lock up to begin with. Adrenaline powers Phantos into the corner, and blisters him with several Chop WHOOOOs to the chest. Johnny is pretty proud of himself apparently, as he turns to the crowd and yells “How about that!” The crowd responds in kind. Phantos bull rushes out of the corner and levels Johnny. An Irish whip results in a deep arm drag. Phantos locks in a head scissor and begins to jaw at Attitude Adjuster. “I’m fixing to break his neck again” Capps can’t resist the bait, and tries to get in the ring, drawing Hightower’s attention away from the action. Lucios charges in and stomps away on Adrenaline as Phantos holds him on the mat. Alan is jumping up and down watching his partner being decimated. Davis finally turns around to see Lucios stepping out of the ring. Davis gives him a warning and gets back to the action.

Phantos has thrown Johnny into the ropes and catches him on the rebound with a kick to the gut and a swinging neck breaker for a 2 count. Lucios gets the tag in, and proceeds to stomp a mud hole in Adrenaline, then walks it dry. Johnny low blows Lucios and tries to get to his corner, but Phantos rushes in and drags him back. Hightower proceeds to read Phantos the riot act, while Attitude Adjuster enters the ring with an Unidentified International Object. Alan cracks Lucios over the head with the UIO, and then The Heels set him up for a Double Adrenaline Rush! But Hightower turns in time and sees Capps in the ring and chases him out. Lucios gets to his knees while Johnny expresses his displeasure to Davis. Lucios schoolboys Adrenaline for a 2 count. Johnny kicks our hard and both men scramble to their feet.

Capps gets a tag in as Johnny beats Lucios to his feet. Adjuster charges in and hammers Lucios with a double axe handle. Phantos tries to assist, and gets forearm smashed out of the ring. Adjuster hits an atomic drop, and follows it with a short arm clothesline and a DDT. Capps covers, but forgets to hook the leg and Lucios is up before 3. Hightower watches intently as Alan tries to whip Lucios into the corner, but Lucios blocks it and tries a whip of his own. Capps reverses the block, and sends Lucios barreling towards the ropes, into the exact spot where Hightower was standing vigil. The referee takes the full force of momentum from Lucios and tumbles all the way to the floor. Adjuster takes advantage of Lucios’ pause to stare at Davis, and chop blocks him from behind. Rolling knee drops to the injured leg have Lucios howling in pain. Phantos runs in to help, and gets cut off by Adrenaline. Johnny and Phantos tussle in a corner while Alan locks Lucios up in a Figure Four! Lucios tries to reach the ropes, but is too far away. Capps grabs the bottom rope for leverage and really lays it in. Johnny backdrops Phantos out of the ring, then heads to the top rope. Big Splash off the top on to the helpless Lucios! Johnny covers, but Hightower is still on the floor. Johnny pounds the mat 1…2…3, but still no referee.

Suddenly, the crowd begins to buzz. Junior Hale is rushing to ringside! He slides in the ring and counts 1…2........ nothing. Phantos has pulled Hale out of the ring. Hale starts to berate Phantos, but sees Davis on the floor and goes to help him to his feet. The Heels have sent Lucios into the ropes and hit a Flapjack! Johnny hoists Lucios up and Alan goes to give him a Spike Pile driver, but Phantos cracks Johnny from behind with a chair. Capps ducks a chair shot and drop toe holds Phantos, who lands face first on the chair! Hale and Hightower both get back in the ring. Hale grabs the chair and tosses it out of the ring. Davis sends all 4 men into their respective corners. He points at Lucios and Capps and orders them to lock up. Hale drops down to the floor, and it looks like we’ll have 2 officials from here on out!

Capps and Lucios lock up, but Lucios’ leg gives out on him and Alan ends up with a devastating chin lock on Lucios. Lucios tries to power up, but can’t. Capps sends him into the ropes and tries an arm drag, but Lucios blocks it, hip tosses Alan and falls to the mat with him. Lucios crawls to his corner, but gets dragged back to the middle by Adjuster. Tag to Johnny, who drops a couple of quick elbow drops on Lucios. He drags the big man to his feet and dropkicks him into the neutral corner. Johnny goes for a Stinger Splash, but Lucios moves out of the way, stumbles to his corner and tags in Phantos. House of Fire for Phantos as he comes in, pounds on Adrenaline in the corner, floors him with a snap DDT, then runs along the ropes and clotheslines Alan to the floor. Phantos circles around, charges in to spear Johnny, who alertly sidesteps the move, causing Phantos to dive between the turnbuckles and crash into the ring post. Phantos staggers backwards, & Johnny schoolboys him; then he props his feet on the ropes (of course) as Hightower counts 1…2….3! Johnny & Alan start to celebrate, but Junior Hale pulls Hightower aside and tells him about the chicanery. Hightower waves off the pin and both Chickenshits go BATSHIT! Hale and Hightower are both getting their ears filled with obscenities from a different Heel.

Phantos and Lucios have regrouped and they have grabbed their title belts. Capps has grabbed a chair, and Hightower is trying to wrest control of it from Alan. Phantos goes to swing his belt at Johnny, but Hale sees him and puts a stop to it, taking the belt from Phantos. Johnny starts to attack Phantos, and Lucios then comes behind Hale (who had climbed through the ropes with Phantos’ belt) and cracks Johnny in the head with his title. Lucios disposes of the evidence. Phantos drags Johnny into a corner and climbs to the top turnbuckle. Lucios charges across & spears Capps out of camera range. Hightower disposes of Capps’ chair and turns back to the match. He sees Phantos up top& diving off with a Suicide Leg drop on to Adrenaline. Hightower drops down & counts 1…2…3!
WINNERS in 14:26 Phantos & Lucios

Post match, the Heels are screaming down Hale and Hightower, and OOWF security comes to escort the referees to the back. On cue Drink and Destroy come rushing down to take a shot at The Heels. Phantos & Lucios collect their belts and seem to enjoy the show, when they are Pearl Harbored by Fear Us and Gods & Monsters. It takes a rescue effort by Run DEA to get the Champions to the back safely, and OOWF security has its hands full pulling D&D and The Heels apart.


We fade in to Tytan sitting on the couch, his head lowered, shaking his head in disbelief.

T: How the hell do they manage to win these matches?

EOM: They’re good…

Tytan stands.

T: We’re better.

Selena enters the shot holding a jack o lantern in front of her face. She walks up to the camera with it, and then removes it.

SG: Up next Spin Hansen defends his Intercontinental Championship versus…Uncle Moose!!

EOM: Uncle Moose?

Poe: She really likes Moosehead Jack.

T: Wow…I personally can’t stand the dude. But man is he tough. I’ll never forget those matches as long as I live.

EOM: Didn’t Spin win the IC title by defeating you Poe?

Poe: We shall not speak of that again.

EOM: Uh-huh

Poe: Enjoy the match fans.

SG: Get him Moose!!

fade

SPIN HANSEN vs. MOOSEHEAD JACK – OOWF Intercontinental Title Match

The grating sound of "Scarecrow" ushers Moosehead Jack into the arena under a chorus of boos as he slides into the ring and slumps down in the corner awaiting the arrival of the Intercontinental champion, who doesn't disappoint him, who stands at the the top the ramp for a few moments displaying the belt and the increasingly familiar stand DHM written across his fists before charging into the ring! Jack greets him with the same stiff punches at Vahomet enters with as belatedly the bell rings to let us know that we're underway...

Vahomet and MHJ seem content to spend the first minute or so trading punches (with Barros content to not get in their way) until a quick knee lift by the champion gives him advantage enough to roughly throw a doubled-over MHJ into the second turnbuckle shoulder first. A series of stomps have Jack covering up on the mat, leaving him crumpled on the mat as Barros finally asserts himself and moves Vahomet back. The challenger's reprieve is short-lived however, as the champ goes back on the attack grabbing Jack for the mat...only to get vicious face rake for his efforts. Vahomet staggers away trying to clear his vision, and Moosehead Jack capitalizes with a diving chop block that takes Vahomet down to one knee. A standing bulldog takes him all the way down, and Jack moves in on the attack, grinding the champ's face into the canvas. Barros tries to gather control, making a four count of Jack before he finally lets go of Vahomet's head and drives a series of knee drops into the back of the downed man's head.

Vahomet's face is a bloodied mess as MHJ pulls him back up and drags him over the to the ropes, draping his neck across the second rope before sliding out and choking the champion across the rope. Barros gets to three in his count before Vahomet finds a way to break the choke himself, scoring a wild right hook that stuns Jack and moves him back a step as the champion rolls out of the ring. Quick thumb to the eye gives control of the situation back to the challenger, and he sets up for a Russian leg sweep against the rail....But Vahomet quickly buries three elbows into Jack's midsection, breaking the hold and allowing to him to counter with s STROKE IN THE CORNER OF THE RAIL~! Jack hits the round screaming and clutching at his mouth as the blood flows freely out around his fingers as Vahomet stands over him, slapping hands with a few happy (and slightly repulsed) fans before tossing Jack back into the ring.

Barros tries to assess Jack's injuries as Vahomet pulls him up, and Barros' protests give Jack the distraction he needs to launch a quick boot in the champs gut, doubling him over for a lightning fast DDT! Through the mask of blood, Jack looks like he might be smiling a bit he hauls the champ to his feet, and nails ANOTHER DDT! Barros drops to count, but Jack pulls him up again, pins the arm behind behind the head and delivers the...

NO~! Vahomet bull charges Moosehead Jack back into the corner, burying his shoulder into the challenger as he does! You can SEE the air leaving Jack's body as he hits, and Vahomet loads the breathless challenger into the suplex position...Gourdbuster onto the top turnbuckle! Jack looks out, as the former Spin Hansen pulls him roughly off the turnbuckle and pounces, locking on the Whiskey Tango Foxtrot...

And Barros gives barely a look at the unconcious Moosehead Jack before calling for the bell!
WINNER in 12:55 via SUMISSION/STOPPAGE and STILL OOWF INTERCONTINENTAL CHAMPION - VAHOMET!

We fade in to Poe, lighting a candle using another one.

Poe: Davin Moreland…the current OOWF World Heavyweight Champion. Seems just like yesterday I was pinning you one, two, three, in the center of the ring. Now…you’re the champ. Interesting turn of events don’t you think?

Selena scoots up to Poe.

SG: Does that make you the champ, Master?

Poe: It may put me in line for a title shot little one, but that time is not tonight. Tonight, Davin Moreland defends his World Heavyweight Title against Concrete Takaken Gryphon.

T: You mean that masked moron that thinks he’s a superhero?

EOM: That masked moron spent time in WWE. Show some respect.

T: You? Preaching about respect?

Poe: Davin, I respect you more than most in this company. But remember, I’ll be seeing you soon, I’m sure. Namesdeh.

fade

DAVIN MORELAND vs. CONCRETE TG – OOWF World Heavyweight Title Match

“With Jupiter in Mind blares over the PA system and Concrete TG steps from behind the curtain and basks in the cheers of his loyal fans. Crete is trying to regain the championship he lost over a year ago to Stank at Hell on Earth III. Crete makes his way to the ring and rolls under the bottom rope. He nods to referee Angel Barros and heads to the corner to wait. The OOWF world heavyweight champion Davin Moreland is announced next, and he comes out and immediately gets booed out of the building. Moreland looks satisfied with the hate, and he heads to the ring, surprisingly alone this week. Davin takes his time getting there, and gets pelted with some garbage for his delay. The crowd erupts into a DA-VIN SUCKS chant. Not bad, he has all the heat he needs and he hasn’t even stepped into the ring yet. Moreland slowly climbs between the ropes and looks at Crete with a bemused look on his face, Crete gets a grim look of determination and finishes his stretches. Davin hands the title off to Barros, and makes it perfectly clear that the title will be leaving the ring with him at the end of the night. Barros holds the greatest prize in wrestling above his head and calls for the bell, this one is officially underway.

Moreland slowly walks to the center of the ring and meets Crete there. A discussion starts between the two of them, and we hear Davin remind Crete that he took off for McMahonland while HE stayed there and single handedly won the war all by himself with no help. Crete appears to disagree with his assessment of the situation, and soon words turn to shouts, which quickly escalates into fists. Moreland takes a wild swing at Crete but Crete catches his arm and turns it into a hammerlock, Moreland tries to grab Crete’s head, but in this case Davin’s height works against him. Moreland tries to reach between his legs and sweep Crete’s feet, but he can’t reach him. Finally frustrates, Davin backs Crete into the corner to force the break. Crete relents, and it appears that Davin will give the break, but before he steps away from Crete, he nails Crete in the jaw with an elbow, then turns and hits him with rapid fire rights and lefts until Crete slumps to the canvas. Moreland pulls Crete up and buries his shoulder into Crete’s midsection, one, twice, then goes for the third, but Crete hits Davin with a knee lift that stuns the champion and sends him staggering back out of the corner. Crete charges, but Davin nails Crete with a power slam, and covers, but Crete rolls his shoulder before the ref even gets down to the canvas. Davin pulls Crete into a sitting position and locks him in a head lock, butting pressure on Crete’s neck, and trying to cut off the air supply. Several times Davin reaches back and gets his feet on the second rope while the referee was unaware, each time he would remove his feet just before he got caught. The crowd starts to cheer for Crete and he powers up to his feet and frees himself from the hold with several shots to the midsection. Crete is about to run the ropes when Davin grabs him by the head and slams him backward down to the mat. Moreland hits the ropes and tries a knee drop, but Crete rolls out of the way and Davin drives his knee into the mat, and howls in pain.

Crete is quickly to his feet and he waits for Moreland to stand up, then lands several stiff kicks to the back of Moreland’s knee, then grabs Moreland in a side waist lock and takes him over with a side suplex, dropping Moreland on the back of his head, folding him in half. Moreland slithers under the bottom rope and tries to clear his head, but as soon as he stands up, Crete grabs him and pulls him back to the apron, and brings him back into the ring the hard way, with a vertical suplex. Crete shows surprising power by keeping the much larger Moreland in the air for several seconds before crashing to the mat. Crete immediately springs to his feet and hits the ropes, spring boarding off the bottom rope into a perfect moon sault, covering and getting a two count from Barros.

The match continues to go back and forth, neither man is able to keep the advantage for long. After nearly thirty minutes of action, Moreland sidesteps a Crete charge and sends Crete face first into the ring post, from inside the ring. Crete falls to the floor, and by the time the camera gets there we see that Crete has been split wide open. Davin immediately takes advantage of this and leaves the ring and POUNDS the cut under Crete’s eye with punches, opening the gash more and leaving Crete a bloody mess. Moreland rolls Crete back into the ring and spends several minutes torturing Crete, trying to get the pin, but each time Crete somehow manages to roll his shoulder. Moreland’s frustrations are finally starting to show. He shoves Crete in to the corner and sets him on the top rope, then climbs up there with him and hooks Crete for a superplex. Davin tries to hit the move, but Crete holds on for dear life and blocks the move. Crete hammers Moreland with several stiff shots to the face, then slams him between the eyes with a head but! Moreland slowly falls off the top rope and hits the mat like a fallen oak tree. Crete climbs to the top rope and gives a quick glance to the heavens and hits a FROG SPLASH! One, Two, Thr….NO! Moreland manages to roll his shoulders. Crete and Davin keep going back and forth, we are over forty-five minutes into the match now and both men are exhausted. Crete grabs Moreland and slowly pulls him off the mat and grabs Moreland for a scorpion death drop, but Davin spins around and shoves Crete off to the ropes, on the rebound he grabs him and tries A REALLY GOOD DIAMOND CUTTER, but Crete grabs him and takes him over with a German suplex, bridges and gets two! Crete grabs Davin and sends him to the ropes and catches Moreland with a knee and tries a suplex, but Moreland slips over his shoulder and lands on his feet behind him, but his knee buckles and Moreland drops to one knee in pain. The referee immediately steps in to check and is about to make the dreaded “X” sign. Crete looks at the referee, and in that brief second, Davin strikes, leaping from his kneeling position and DRIVING Crete to the mat with A REALLY GOOD DIAMNOD CUTTER! Davin covers, and hooks both legs, and JUST gets the one, two, three!
WINNER in 49:09 – Davin Moreland

We fade in to Selena sitting on Poe’s lap, feeding him grapes. They look at the camera.

Poe: I hope you enjoyed this special Halloween edition of Midweek Mayhem.

Voices off camera: Trick or treat!!

Camera moves to a bunch of kids holding out bags, waiting for candy. Selena rushes over to them, joining them, and holding out her hands.

Poe, Tytan, and Eric O’Mac walk up to the kids.

T: Happy Halloween kids. Be safe.

EOM: Kids shouldn’t be watching this stuff anyway…

fade

Thanks for coming out and watching LIVE OOWF action be sure to check out the OOWF November PPV, Live November 30th from Springfield, Maryland! And don’t forget to catch next week’s OOWF Mid-Week Mayhem Live! November 5th from Springfield, South Carolina!

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Join us for OOWF Chat on Wednesday nights!

<Thanks to BC for writing the commentary between matches, great job!>

[Concrete TG]

***OOC***

But did I have Naturally curly hair? oh wait, wrong special.....

[fasteddie]

Uncle Moose?

Nice job guys....
Poe my fellow G&M er great segments. I think it caught the flavor of the team rather nice. Including Eric.

[Outback Frito Pendejo]

Peanuts + OOWF = Awesome!

[Spinch]

That was great! (Also: It's Voldsohmet, not Vahomet.)