Matthews:There is a big-fight feeling in the air as we come to you, live, from a secret location somewhere in the deep south. 100, 000 people are crammed into this unnamed arena as WZPW Incarceration gets into full gear! I'm Casey Matthews and I am joined by The Power Trip John Constantine at ringside...
Constantine: And aren't you the lucky one!
Matthews:These people are in an electric mood for what promises to be one of the biggest wrestling events to grace the world. The wrestlers are ready, we are ready and the fans are about to blow the roof of this place. Tonight, we have an absolute stellar card and w-
Matthews: What the hell is going on?
At that moment, the head officer of the Prison, Phallus P. Whittaker makes an appearance on the stage. Fans are at a loss as to why he is there but a chorus of a negative reaction is what meets him anyway as he walks down the ramp. Looking at the fans, he turns up his nose and climbs the steps and into the ring. He grabs a microphone and begins to speak.
Whittaker: Shut your fucking dirty sewers!
Constantine: I like this guy!
The crowd go wild as Whittaker barks his orders behind his dark glasses that mask his features somewhat.
Whittaker: You vermin should be thanking me for allowing this débâcle to take place! Not only does it harm us economically, it encourages oiled up men rolling all over each other... The last thing we need right now is another incident in C-Wing...
Whittaker stops for a moment and then shakes his head in disgust, thinking about the shocking events that he had bore witness to.
Whittaker:That being said, you idiot should know that I am not on board with this moronic freak-show.
Constantine: That makes two of us!
Matthews: You are taking part!
Constantine: Only to show these reprobates that a life of sobriety and good judgement is a better way of life for them. This man is a damn visionary.
Whittaker: Make no mistake! I will be doing everything in my power to make sure that this ridiculous event is shut down before it even starts.
Constantine gets out of his seat and begins clapping for Whittaker, who simply dips his head in appreciation of the acknowledgement from Constantine.
Matthews:Would you please sit down?
Constantine:He's inspiring... Very much like myself.
Whittaker drops his mic and leaves the ring, shouting at the fans as he moves back up the ramp.
Matthews: Well, ladies and gentlemen, at the risk of being shut down faster than a high school keg party... I would say that it is about time for our first match.
As the music hits Winters emerges and goes to the center of the stage. As the music kicks in more Winters crosses his head and chest and walks methodically to the ring.
Ave: And his opponent, from Chicago, Illinois, weighing in at 267 pounds... The Truth Michael WIIIINTERS!
The crowd is even more ecstatic now as they've realized that Winters himself is a former prisoner.
Matthews:This match has all the makings of a classic as these two face off.
Constantine: Get your head out of your ass, Casey. They're convicts, nothing but animals. Every last one of them.
Matthews: John, don't you think that's a little harsh?
Constantine: Hell no I don't, just turn around and call the match before I put you through this damn announce table, you got it?
As the crowd is on their feet, absolutely elated for the start of this match, both men stand in opposite corners of the ring intently watching each other. The referee asks both men if they're ready, and with that he signals for the bell getting the match under way.
Matthews: Here we go!
Both men run at each other as the match starts and they're exchanging punches in the center of the ring. Mozz gets the better of Winters and sends him off into the ropes, on the way back he hits a vicious Running Boot. He follows it up immediately as he stomps Winters on the ground. Winter rolls away and gets back to his feet. They lock up in the center in the ring and this time Winters gets the advantage as he locks in a Headlock. Eventually Mozz counters the Headlock and sends Winters into the ropes again, this time hitting a Clothesline.
Matthews: That Clothesline nearly took Winters' head off, John!
Constantine: Meh, I can do better.
As Winters tries to shake the cobwebs out of his head Mozz hits a Running Senton onto his opponent. He immediately gets to his feet and begins playing to the crowd and is met with a resounding cheer. Mozz goes over to Winters then and pulls him up by his hair, leads him over to the corner and smashes his face into the turnbuckle repeatedly. He tries it one last time, but Winters counters and slams his opponents head into the turnbuckle for some retribution. Winters begins to chop away at Mozz' chest, and he is making a comeback. Now Mozz sends back a few chops and makes his way out of the corner, both men are in the center of the ring now, and Mozz overpowers Winters and hits a Powerslam and goes for the cover. One... Two... KICKOUT!
Matthews: Winters showing some spirit here, as Mozz seems to be having a field day here.
Mozz pulls Winters back to his feet, sends him off into the ropes and hits a Back Drop in the center of the ring. Winters writhes on the ground in pain, but as Mozz comes to pull him back to his feet again he hits a Jaw Breaker out of nowhere.
Matthews:Quick counter there.
Constantine: I saw it coming.
Winters on the offensive now is sending Mozz reeling with punches, Mozz tries to counter with a Short-Arm Clothesline but Winters ducks it and hits a Neckbreaker. Winters heads over to the turnbuckle as he seems to have something in mind here.
Matthews: What's he doing? Isn't he a bit big to be trying that?
Constantine:Damn it, Casey. Do you know anything about wrestling? Sometimes you've just got to take some risks.
As Mozz gets back to his feet Winters comes off the turnbuckle soaring, hitting a Shoulder Block on his opponent. Winters goes for the cover, One... Tw- KICKOUT! Frustrated, Winters gets back to his feet and stomps away at Mozz. He gets Mozz up to his feet and nails him with a few European Uppercuts which he immediately follows up with a Sidewalk Slam.
Matthews: Winters is really getting into a rhythm here.
Constantine:Or, you know, he could just be taking advantage of his opponent's mistakes. And trust me, there have been quite a few.
Winters goes over to Mozz, but Mozz tries for a Roll-Up pin, but Winters rolls out, stands up and hits a running boot to his opponent's head. Winters then drags Mozz up to his feet, Winters then locks in what appears to be an Abdominal stretch, but he pulls Mozz' arm in between his legs setting up a Pumphandle Slam.
Matthews: Great slam there.
Constantine:Meh, mediocre.
Winters goes for another cover, One... Two... Mozz gets his foot on the rope. Winters tries to pull him into the center of the ring, but Mozz kicks him away and gets back to his feet. He runs at Winters and hits a clothesline to follow up. He goes to the fallen Winters and flips him over and locks in a Camel Clutch.
Matthews: Will Winters tap?
Constantine: (Muttering) Hopefully...
Winters has a look of agony on his face, but he refuses to tap out. The referee asks Winters once again if he's done, but Winters dismisses him. Suddenly, as Mozz is running out of strength too, Winters picks him up and hits a desperation Electric Chair Slam. Both men are down here, the referee starts his count.
One...
Two...
Three...
Four...
Five...
Six...
Seven...
At the count of seven Winters gets to his feet, but Mozz is nearly up as well. Winters goes to punch Mozz, but Mozz pushes him away and hits a right hand of his own, which he follows up with a Big Boot. Mozz does not relent, he gets Winters up to his feet and whips him off into the corner. He starts punching away at Winters in the corner, the referee tries to intervene but he is struck down with what looked like an unintentional elbow by Mozz. Mozz pulls Winters out of the corner and hits a Chokeslam, but realizes there is no referee to make the count.
Matthews:Mozz had it won!
Mozz, realizing that the ref is down heads to the outside and picks up a steel chair. He brings the chair into the ring and strikes Winters, who is just barely getting to his feet, right in the head. The crowd boos him heavily. He drops the chair, but gets Winters back to his feet, he sends Winters off into the ropes and he wants to hit his Spinebuster to end the match. As Winters comes off the ropes and Mozz gets him up he counters it into a DDT onto the chair laying in the ring. Just as Winters slides the chair out of the ring and goes for the cover the referee comes to. One... Two... Three!
Ave: And here is your winner of this match... Michael Winters!
The crowd has a ridiculous pop for the victorious Winters.
Ave: The following contest is scheduled for one fall!
Ave: Introducing first, from Northern Michigan, weighing in at 225 lbs, he is the Jungle Warrior, Joe King!
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You Shook Me All Night Long by AC/DC hits as Joe King makes his way down to the ring to a modest ovation from the crowd.
Ave: And his opponent, from the Iraqi Desert, weighing in at 257 lbs, Colonel Mitchell Davids!
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Anxiety by the Black Eyed Peas hits as Mitchell Davids steps out and salutes before marching down to the ring.
Mathews:This should be interesting, a veteran from the war on terror stepping into the squared circle.
The two men circle each other for a moment before tying up in the center of the ring. Davids gets the advantage and uses brute force to push King into the corner. Davids locks King's arms under his and repeatedly headbutts King before slingshot suplexing him out of the corner. Davids picks up King and goes for a belly to belly suplex, King weakly tries to punch his way out but Davids just headbutts him again and hits the belly to belly sending King over in a heap to the mat. Davids gets up and taunts the crowd for a bit before going over to King and lifting him up, King hits him with a shot to the gut out of nowhere, and another and then a boot to the guy sending the Colonel reeling, King goes for a clothesline but is overpowered by Davids which sends King back down to the mat.
Mathews: This is some lopsided action, it seems King is clearly outmatched.
Constantine: It would seem that way, but what do you know about wrestling Mathews?
Davids goes over and lifts King up by the hair and irish whips him off the ropes and hits him a boot to the gut and then drives him into the canvas with an implant DDT. Davids bends down and starts to trash talk King, slapping him in the face coyly a couple of times. Davids picks him up and signals for the end with a salute, lifting King up in a double over hook, he slams him down to the mat hard with the Gallows Pole and covers him, 1...2...3!
Mathews: What a dominating performance by the Colonel!
Ave: Here is your winner, by way of pin fall, Colonel Mitchell Davids!
-_-_-_-_-_
The scene opens and show Sam Smith lacing up his ring boots, next to him sits Maz Karzai.
Smith:Hey, Max!
Karzai: Yeah, Sam?
Smith:Good luck tonight.
Karzai: Lord knows I'll need it. Thanks, good luck to you too.
Smith: Are you feeling good?
Karzai: Man, I don't know. It has been a long time since I've stepped into that ring. I'm, I'm, I'm actually nervous. I haven't been nervous in years. This is my domain, my kind of match, but Constantine is damn good.
Smith:Don't worry, man. You'll be fine.
Karzai: To tell you the truth, it's not even that I'm THAT scared about the match, I just don't want to disappoint my fans. It's my last match, Sam. I want to go out with a bang.
Smith: I'm sure you will. Once you get out there in the ring your butterflies will go away, I know how it is.
Karzai: I don't know, I've never felt like this before. Let me ask you something, Sam.
Smith: Sure.
Karzai:Have you ever had 100,000 people chanting your name? Have you ever felt what it's like?
Smith: I can't say I have, Max.
Karzai: It's a thrill. An adrenaline rush. There's only one thing in this world that beats it, Sam. Winning. Like I said, this is my last match, but I have one wish... To feel the thrill of victory one last time.
Smith stands up, pats Karzai on the back and starts walking out of the locker room.
Smith: I'm sure it'll go your way Max, put on a show out there.
Ave: The following contest is scheduled for one fall!
Fist-pumping and douche-baggy dancing ensue as Teddy James makes his way to the ring to a massive ovation, inciting an alarming amount of dancing from the inmates in the audience.
Ave: Introducing first, from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, weighing in at 220 lbs, Prime Time Teddy James!
As James gets in the ring, the guards are doing their best to hold back James enthusiastic fanboys, the high-pitched schoolgirl screams of the penitentiarys more feminine occupants ringing through the air.
Matthews:These men want to party with Teddy James and so do I!
Constantine:This is disgusting.
Sean Cruz makes his way out to the stage, his catchy theme song and natural charisma helping him ride the energy Teddy James brought into the arena, the fans still on their feet and getting down.
Ave: And his opponent, from Galveston, Texas, weighing in at 236 lbs, The Billionaire Playboy Sean Cruz!
As Cruz gets into the ring, both men engage in an impromptu dance-off, much to the glee of the prisoners in attendance.
Constantine:Would somebody explain to me why these inmates are resisting their natural urge to mug these guys?
Matthews:You need to lighten up!
Constantine:You need to stop dancing in your seat.
As the music dies down the bell rings, both men circle energetically before locking up in a collar-elbow tie up. Both men struggle for leverage as they push the other against the ropes and reverse several times before the referee separates them. As they tie up for a second time, James uses his leverage advantage to catch a side headlock which Cruz quickly finds a way out of before dropping into an arm drag, which sends James flying across the ring. James runs at Cruz and goes for a clothesline but Cruz ducks. Cruz attempts a hip toss as James comes off the ropes but James lands on his feet and attempts a belly to bully suplex which Cruz is able to avoid by elbowing his way out of James grip before backing off. Both men stare one another down to massive applause from the prison audience.
Matthews:These two competitors are very evenly matched!
Constantine:Are they? I stopped paying attention after the dance-off.
Both men approach one another for a third lock up, but are hesitant. James attempts do drop down and shoot both legs, but Cruz drops down on James for the front facelock which James floats out of to put Cruz face first on the mat with a hammerlock. Cruz floats to a seated position while James maintains the hammerlock. Cruz bridges to his feat and attempts to escape the hammerlock with a snapmare, but James hangs onto the hole. Realizing his counter didnt work, Cruz slaps the mat in frustration. Getting to his feet once more, Cruz desperately throws elbows, one of which catches James in the eye and forces him to break the hold. Cruz then shoots off the ropes and levels James with a running leg lariat, which leads to the first cover of the match. 1.. 2.. Kickout!
Matthews:This is a clinic!
Constantine:One of these guys is going to have to fight dirty to win. Theyre too evenly matched!
Cruz picks up James and pushes him into the corner, catching him with several kicks before being backed away by the referee. As Cruz comes back in, James throws Cruz into the corner and lights him up with a few chops. Cruz reverses and throws James back into the corner, lighting him up with some chops of his own. Cruz then pulls James out of the corner and attempts a suplex, but James lands on his feet. As Cruz turns around, James floors Cruz with a hard right hand.
Constantine:Yes! I knew this sportsmanship stuff couldnt last forever!
James begins to lay into Cruz with several vicious stomps before going for the cover. 1... Kickout! James then picks Cruz up and hits a quick swinging neckbreaker. Cover. 1... Kickout! James follows up this flurry of offense by once again picking up Cruz and this time bringing him crashing to the mat with a snap suplex. Cover. 1.. Kickout! He then picks Cruz up and shoots him off the ropes, springing off those nearest to him and bringing down Cruz with a running cross body. Cover. 1.. 2.. Kickout! James then begins to slow his pace down, picking up Cruz again and hitting a Russian leg sweep. Cover. 1... 2... Kickout by Cruz! James slowly picks Cruz up and whips him to a buckle. James then runs in but is hit by a back elbow from Cruz which causes him to stagger. As James slowly walks back in towards the buckle, Cruz comes out to shock James with a Superkick! Cruz crashes to the mat, unable to capitalize.
Matthews:What a move by Cruz!
Constantine:But after suffering the wrath of James for several minutes, he cant capitalize!
Cruz begins to stir first and staggers to the corner, groggily climbing the buckles and heading to the top. He signals for something which causes a buzz in the crowd and he goes for a top rope leg drop! However, James moves out of the way, causing Cruz to crash to the mat! James slides under the bottom rope and then springs from the apron to the top rope and comes off with an elbow drop which Cruz puts his knees up for, caving in the midsection of James! Both men are down as the referee begins to count.
1!
Nobody is stirring.
2!
Both men are feeling the effects of a gruelling match and their ineffective high-flying manoeuvres.
3!
Who will make it to their feet first?
4!
Both men begin to stir.
5!
They crawl towards one another.
6!
Theyre using on another to climb to their knees At which point they begin exchanging right hands, causing the referee to stop his count. As they both fire rights, they climb to their feet, James staggering back towards a turnbuckle and Cruz falling on top of him. Cruz lays into James with a series of chops before whipping him to the opposite buckle and catching James with a spin kick in the corner. James crashes to the mat and Cruz goes for the cover. 1... 2... Kickout!
Matthews:Cruz might have James on the ropes!
An exhausted Cruz picks James up and goes for a suplex, but James floats over and goes for a desperation schoolboy! 1... 2....... Cruz reverses into a crucifix! 1..... 2.... James floats over onto his feet, dragging the dead weight of Cruz up from the mat into a fireman carry position! James then throws Cruz into a gutbuster, which leaves Cruz dazed in a world of pain. James shoots himself off the ropes and levels Cruz with a stiff bicycle kick before falling into the cover. 1... 2... 3!!
Ave: Here is your winner, Teddy James!!
Both men lay motionless after an extremely competitive match.
Matthews:Good Lord! What a match we've witnessed here tonight at Incarceration!
Constantine:Sometimes two men are just the perfect match for one another.
Both men stagger to their feet as the referee raises James' hand. Cruz, holding his ribs in a great deal of discomfort, walks over and shakes James hand before opening the ropes for the winner.
Ave: The following tag team contest is scheduled for one fall!
DK Wilton makes his way out to the stage with great pep and enthusiasm, doing his best to get the crowd fired up as he heads down the ramp.
Ave: Introducing first, from West Hollywood, California, weighing in at 235 lbs, DK Wilton!
Matthews:Wow! DK Wilton looks fired up tonight! Im sure hes here to satisfy both the wrestling fan in me and the music fan in me.
Constantine:I dont think Wiltons ever satisfied the wrestling fan in anyone.
As Wilton enters the ring and leaps to the turnbuckle to jaw with the ringside spectators, his partners entrance music begins to blare over the P.A.
Xavier Creed makes his way out to the stage to a modest ovation, cockily strutting to the ring while maintaining his imposing presence.
Ave: And his tag team partner, from Tokyo, Japan, weighting in at 328 lbs, Xavier Creed!
Matthews:Have you ever in your entire life seen such an imposing mountain of muscle?
Constantine:Only every time I look in the mirror.
As Creed enters the ring, Wilton giddily tries to solicit a high five, which the massive Creed quietly ignores.
Aiden Hughes, carrying a bottled labelled High Proof Alcohol, makes his way to the stage to a chorus of boos as he dances to his entrance music.
Ave: And their opponents: First, from Dublin, Ireland, weight in at 225 lbs, Aiden Hughes!
Hughes slides into the ring and backs to his corner where he sets down his bottle.
Constantine:This guys descended from royalty, Matthews! How does it feel to be in the presence?!
Matthews:Fine. Why? How should I feel?
Car Bomb wastes no time on the stage, walking stoically straight down to the ring.
Ave: And his partner, from your local correctional facility, weighing in at 246 lbs, this is Car Bomb!
As Car Bomb enters the ring, he immediately singles for Hughes to stand on the apron while he starts the match.
Matthews:Car Bomb looks like hes ready to make an impression on his fellow inmates. Hes all business tonight!
Constantine:In my limited experience, Ive found that most explosive devices are all business.
Car Bomb and Wilton are starting the match for their respective teams, Wilton visibly shaken by his inability to get Creed to high five him, but still up for a fight. He circles Car Bomb swiftly before locking up with a collar-elbow tie up. After a brief struggle, Car Bomb backs Wilton into the turnbuckle. DK responds by climbing to the second rope and using his leverage to get Car Bomb in a headlock. Wilton leaps off the ropes to carry Car Bomb over and down to the mat and maintains the hold. Wilton begins to brag about his accomplishment to Creed, who neglects to respond. As Car Bomb gets to his feat, he goes for a back drop. Wilton lands on his feet and hits the ropes. Car Bomb responds by going for a clothesline which Wilton ducks to hit the opposite ropes. Car Bomb uses Wiltons momentum to take him up into his arms and down to the mat with a spine buster before going for the cover. 1... 2... Kickout by Wilton! Car Bomb drags the dazed Wilton over to his corner and tags Hughes, who immediately takes Car Bomb over with a suplex and covers him. 1.. 2.. Kickout!
Matthews:DK Wilton looks like hes in a rough spot at the moment.
Constantine:Well thats just a hazard associated with being DK Wilton.
Wilton attempts to reach out for a tag but hes nowhere near his corner as Hughes brings him to his feet and throws him into a corner, striking Wilton with a series of lefts and right before being held back by the referee. While the ref is distracted, Car Bomb dashes into the ring and drops a groggy Wilton with a neck breaker before running back out to the apron without soliciting the referees attention. Upon seeing this, Creed tries to enter the fray, but the referee holds him back as Car Bomb once again enters, this time picking Wilton up and dropping him with backbreaker. Car Bomb slides out of the ring as the referee turns his attention back to the action, just in time to see Hughes coming off the top rope with a splash. Hughes hooks the leg. 1... 2... Kickout by Wilton!
Mathhews:Wilton showing a great deal of toughness! This man sure knows how to take a beating!
Wilton begins crawling towards his corner, but is immediately dragged back to Hughes corner as Car Bomb is tagged in. Car Bomb drops several elbows on Wilton before going for the cover. 1... 2... Kickout! Car Bomb then tags Hughes, who hits a quick series of his own elbows and goes for the cover. 1.. 2... Kickout again by Wilton! Hughes picks Wilton up and shoots him off the ropes, going for a clothesline which Wilton ducks. Wilton follows up his counter with a desperation German suplex to bring the crowd to its feet! Wilton begins to crawl towards the corner as Car Bomb reaches out for a tag from Hughes. Both men make the tag at the same time, and a fresh Xavier Creed levels Car Bomb with a massive clothesline! Car Bomb gets to his feet almost immediately and runs into a Samoan Drop! Xavier covers Car Bomb. 1... 2.. Kickout! Aiden Hughes charges at Creed as he gets to his feet, but Creed stops him in his tracks with a heart punch. Hughes rolls out of the ring as Creed picks Car Bomb up and throws him into the corner, clobbering him with multiple strikes before whipping him to the opposite buckle and nailed Car Bomb as he comes out of the corner with a running shoulder tackle. Cover. 1.. 2.. Kickout!
Matthews:Creed is on a roll right now! He's really bringing the momentum back to the side of his team after Wilton was able to gut it out so valiantly!
Constantine:Look, Wilton wants a high five tag! Think Creed will finally oblige him?
Creed drags Car Bomb to the corner and tags Wilton, who climbs to the top and drops to his feet while elbowing Car Bomb. Wilton dropkicks Car Bomb and goes for the cover. 1.. 2... Kickout! Wilton hits several knee drops on Car Bomb before covering him again. 1.. 2... Kickout! Frustrated, Wilton tags Creed back in. Creed sets up for a reverse neck breaker, but reverses it to push Creed into the hurricanrana of Hughes, who has stealthily re-entered the ring! Wilton charges into the ring to get a piece of Hughes, but Hughes ducks Wiltons clothesline and catches him coming off the ropes with a flapjack. Hughes then climbs to the top rope and catches a groggy Car Bomb with a cross body.
Constantine:Aiden Hughes is on fire!
Matthews:But hes not the legal man!
Hughes high fives Car Bomb and then goes for his High Proof Alcohol bottle. He pours some on his heavily taped right hand and throws the bottle out of the ring, breaking it on the floor. Hughes then pulls a lighter out of his trunks and sets fire to his heavily taped right hand, unaware that hed also poured alcohol down his arm. As the flame makes contact with his hand, fire engulfs his entire arm as he screams in agony.
Constantine:Aiden Hughes is on fire!
Matthews:Dear Lord, he needs medical attention!
Hughes dives out of the ring in an attempt to get backstage and get his arm put out, but falls into the broken alcohol bottle, causing a blaze which consumes his entire body. As the fans cheer uproariously, stagehands make their way to ringside with fire extinguishers and put the blaze out. However, Hughes is nowhere to be seen and in his place lies a pile of ashes.
Matthews:Theres no way that fire could reduce a normal human body to ashes that quickly!
Constantine:All that proves is that Aiden Hughes was a man of little substance.
As Car Bomb returns his attention to his opponents, hes just able to sidestep a charging DK Wilton and throws him over the top rope, where Wilton lands on the glass from the broken bottle and the ashes of Aiden Hughes. Wilton immediately gets to his feet and looks in horror at the human remains hes covered in. He quickly runs to the back, shouting frantically about how a star of his magnitude cant compete under these conditions.
Matthews:Smart move by Wilton, who will personally be avoiding the sweet sting of defeat here tonight.
Constantine:Has he satisfied the wrestling fan in you, Matthews?
Matthews:Behave yourself!
Creed looks on in dismay as his partner abandons him. Behind him, Car Bomb readies himself for attack. As Creed turns around, he's lifted by Car Bomb and dropped with the Lethal Injection! Car Bomb quickly goes for the cover! 1... 2... 3!!
Ave: Here are your winners, Car Bomb and Aiden Hughes!
Car Bomb quickly exits the ring and heads back up the ramp, looking as stoic as he did upon entering.
Matthews:Impressive win by Car Bomb here tonight!
Constantine:Somebody better get a vacuum cleaner out here so nobody else suffers the same fate as DK Wilton.
A stage hand passes Car Bomb on the ramp with a dust pan and brush to clean-up the ringside area.
Ave: Ladies and Gentlemen! It is now time for the Top Bunk Battle! This match is scheduled for one fall!
Steven Holmes appears on the stage to a muted cheer form the more hardened of criminals. At a slow pace, Holmes moves out to the centre of the stage. Looking deep into the assembled crowd, he turns up his nose and continues down the ramp.
Ave: Introducing first, weighing in at 240 pounds, The Elite Steven Holmes!
Matthews: Steven Holmes is a dangerous man, John. Cold, calculating and malicious, he could be a very stern test for Sam Smith.
Constantine: Let me tell you this, Casey! Steven Holmes is one of the most sadistic men I have ever met. You can bet your bottom dollar that if Sam Smith gives him the chance, he would tear off his foot and shove it up his ass!
As his name is announced, Homes gives a smile of acknowledgement. Fans stretch out their hands to touch the Elite as he walks past them, though none of them can reach. Holmes, focussed on the ring before him, continues down the ramp and upon reaching the ring, he climbs the stairs and enters the ring. A flurry of abuse rains down on him from the crowd but Holmes merely points one finger into the air and awaits his opponent.
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An eruption of applause and cheers flows around the arena as the music begins to play. After a moment of letting the crowd wait for his appearance, Sam Smith appears on the stage. With one hand raised high in the air, Smith smiles as he acknowledges the crowd and the noise they are making for him before moving down the ramp.
Ave: And his opponent, weighing in at 235 pounds, The Law Abiding Citizen Sam Smith!
Matthews:A man who is more than comfortable around criminals, Sam Smith must fell as though he has the home-field advantage, Power Trip?
Constantine: Are you serious, Matthews? You can't have home-field advantage in a prison, you moron! The people would cut open your Grandma if it meant their next fix of the intoxicant they are on! Sure, they are cheering for Smith right now but things change...
Smith continues down the ramp and as he reaches the ring, he looks at the challenge that awaits him inside the ring. Smith gives a look to the fans that flank him and rolls under the bottom rope. Immediately, he gets in the face of Steven Holmes. Holmes, though surprised, does not move an inch. Both men know what lies before them as the referee intervenes and splits up the confrontation. The referee makes his final checks and signals for the bell. Immediately, Smith goes for the legs of Steven Holmes. Holmes though, manages to pull his leg out of the way before Smith can make any real contact and as Smith attempts to get back to his feet, Holmes lands a shot to his chin. Smith stumbles back and comes to a halt in the corner. With a look of surprise on his face, Smith steadies himself. Holmes lets a wry smile appear in the corner of his mouth as he gets the upper hand. As Smith comes out of the corner, Holmes goes for a hearty clothesline but Smith ducks underneath the flailing arm and lands a hard slap to the face of Holmes, whose self satisfied grin is replaced by a look of sheer horror.
Constantine: You don't slap a man on the face! This is professional wrestling, not the last days of Rome!
Matthews: These men are starting this thing off with a little mind-games and no one can blame them. All it takes is one mistake from either party and this match could be over!
Constantine: Let's hope so!
Holmes rushes Smith and drives him back into the corner with a few clubbing blows to the face and torso. Smith recoils as the hard shots land on bare flesh and rock his bones. Holmes lifts up the chin of Smith and then drives his elbow into the side of his opponent's head. That devastating shot takes Smith out of the game for a moment as Holmes whips him hard across the ring. Smith hits the turnbuckles and his momentum drives him back out of the corner, into the waiting arms of Holmes who launches him back across the ring with a belly to belly suplex. Holmes gets to his feet and gives a wave to the crowd as the fans begin to boo him mercilessly. Standing over Smith, Holmes looks down upon his fallen opponent and with no more hesitation drops his elbow deep into the chest of The Elite. Smith rolls around on the canvas in agony as Holmes raises himself to a seated position. A smile appears on his face as he grabs Smith by the hair and pulls him to his feet.
Matthews:This is beginning to look bad for Smith. Steven Holmes is a man that you would ideally like to be controlling from the outset.
Constantine: Do you listen to yourself before you speak? If course you want to be controlling the match. Just like Mr. Holmes is doing now, he is taking the match at his own pace. Controlling the match gives you the impetus to go on and finish the match the way you envision it.
As Smith is raised to his feet, he lands a hard shot to the stomach of his opponent as Steven Holmes bends over in pain. Smith reclaims his vertical basis and as Holmes straightens out, Smith lands a fierce dropkick that stumbles Holmes onto the ropes and then through the gap between the top and middle rope. Smith struggles to his feet as the crowd reach a fever pitch. Holmes, holding the side of his head also makes it to his feet on the outside of the ring. Smith looks out as at his opponent and runs off of the opposite ropes before utilizing a baseball slide to take Steven Holmes out of the equation once more and causing him to crash into the front of the commentary desk. Smith rolls out of the ring and slaps some of the fans hands as he makes his way towards the downed opponent. The referee beckons for both men to get back into the ring but Smith takes no notice. Picking Holmes up by the hair, Smith whips him into the ring-post with tremendous impact. Holmes recoils and eventually comes to a stop on the cold, hard floor. The referee has reached a count of 7, so Smith rolls into the ring and out again to break the count. Smith goes around to where Holmes is lying and attempts to pick him up once again. However, Holmes has reclaimed enough of his composure to land a heavy shot to the face of Smith when he rises up. Smith recoils away and Holmes takes advantage of this when he whips Smith into the ring steps, causing him to tumble over the harsh, unforgiving steel.
Matthews: This match has been very intense from the outset. Neither man wants to lose this match and you can tell. Both are giving it absolutely everything.
Constantine:When a match goes out on to the floor at ringside, you know that neither man is afraid of what the consequences might be and sometimes that is needed. That cold slither of destruction that dwells in a man is what is going to carry the victor through to the finish.
Holmes takes a moment to regain his composure and clutches his head in agony. Taking a deep breath in, Holmes goes over to Smith and lifts him off of the floor. Smith's legs look weak and a welcomed relief comes when Holmes tosses Smith under the bottom rope and back into the ring. The referee looks relieved as Holmes himself rolls into the ring also. With Smith still on the canvas, Holmes signals to the crowd that the match is going to be over soon, which is met with a boo from the fans. Grabbing Smith's arms, Holmes looks to lock in Aristocracy Reigns and with one final struggle, manages to grasp his hands together as Smith battles to break the hold. Smith is beginning to fade after some time in the hold, all hope looks lost. As the crowd begin to chant his name however, Smith begins to stir. The referee checks on him, knowing that what he is seeing is abnormal. Smith finally gets some concentration back and starts to get to his feet, Holmes on his back. With a loud roar, Smith tosses himself back and lands on Holmes, who breaks the hold immediately. Both men are down as the referee begins a count on both men.
Matthews: One has to believe that the man who will get to his feet first will be the man who takes control of this match.
Constantine: I've been in this position. You never want to be the man who is at the mercy of the other. If it were me, I would crush my opponent's skull whilst he lay on the canvas.
Finally, both men manage to get to their feet at a count of 8. Holmes goes for a clothesline but Smith ducks under the arm and manages to land the Final Judgement on Holmes. Smith labours to get a cover on his opponent and with one final push, he stretches his arm across the chest of Holmes. 1... 2... Kick out! The crowd cannot believe what they are seeing as both men give their all for this match. Smith cannot believe what he is seeing as he gets to his feet. His legs are like jelly and as he gets to his feet, Bambi trying to walk comes mind. Falling into the corner, Smith puts his hands to his head in disbelief. As Smith thinks about his next move, Holmes is beginning to stir. Smith, knowing that he has to take advantage, moves to wards him. Grabbing the legs of Holmes, Smith looks to lock in the Double Jeopardy. Holmes though, grabs his legs and rolls through for a small package. 1... 2... 3!
Holmes breaks the pin as the referee signals for the bell. Smith simply cannot believe his bad luck. He puts his hands to his head in utter shock and struggles to take in what has happened.
Ave: Ladies and gentlemen, here is your winner... Steven Holmes!
Matthews:WOW! That just goes to show you, anything can happen in professional wrestling. One moment Holmes was down and the next moment he had won the match!
Constantine: That was a great technique from Holmes, He lulled Smith into a false sense of security and then picked off the weaker man with a simple pin. Flawlessly done!
Smith looks at Holmes, who is now getting to his feet. Smith appears to be livid as the result of the match takes it's toll on him. He grabs Holmes and lays him out again with another round of the Final Judgement. Smith rolls out of the ring and walks up the ramp, not looking back to see the destruction that he has caused as the fans cheer him on.
-_-_-_-_-_
Backstage, we see Phallus P. Whittaker on his mobile phone.
Whittaker: I know that you have done me favours in the past but I need you tonight!
There is a pause.
Whittaker: Maybe I can make it worth your while?
There is another pause as a smile appears on Whittaker's face.
Whittaker:The Pittsburgh hotel room treatment? I think I can swing that.
The smile grows wider as it seems as though Whittaker is getting what he wants.
Whittaker: So we are on for later? I'll see you out there...
Ave: The following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, from the Skies Above, weighing in at 127 lbs... Ashleigh FalKon!
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Unleashed by Epica hits as Ashleigh Falkon slowly makes her way to the ring, seemingly ignoring everything around her as she walks down the ramp to a raucous roar of boos from the crowd.
Ave: Her opponent, from Mexico City, Mexico, weighing in at 280 lbs... Javier Garcia!!
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Hung, Drawn, and Quartered by High on Fire hits as Javier Garcia makes his way to the ring, arms raised in the air, clearly focused on the match.
Ave: His opponent, weighing in at 220 lbs... he is the King Of The Digital Age, Flamero!
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Going Digital by Jason Radford hits as Flamero makes his way down to the ring, receiving cheers from the inmates as he slaps some high-fives.
Matthews:This is going to be an interesting match, how will these two men react to having a women in the squared circle with them?
Constantine:It shouldn't make a difference, if it was me in there I would make her Collateral Damage and be done with it.
Matthews:Well, we all aren't you John.
Constantine: That's obvious.
Flamero and Garcia make eye contact as they look over to Ashleigh FalKon, who's poised and ready to fight. They both motion to engage each other, not knowing what to do with Ashleigh. They tie-up and Garcia gets the upper hand, hitting forearms to the back of Flamero before dropping him with a scoop slam. Garcia hits him with a couple of boots to the chest as he turns to the crowd to celebrate, Ashleigh is waiting as she springboards off the top rope for a crossbody but she's caught by Garcia who motions for the fallaway slam but Flamero has regained himself and clubs Garcia in the back making the save and dropping Ashleigh to the canvas. Flamero continues to go to work on Garcia's back, landing strike after strike dropping the big man to his knees and immediately hitting him with a discuss clothesline to put him all the way down. He goes for the cover, 1...2... kick-out from Garcia. Ashleigh has regained her composure and hits Flamero in the back of the leg with a kick, then another, and another, dropping him to one knee. She runs off the opposite ropes and vaults off Flamero's knee, dropping him down with an enzuguri. She goes for the pin, 1...2... kick-out from Flamero.
Matthews: What action from these three, Ashleigh FalKon is holding her own in there with those two.
Constantine: Flamero or Garcia needs to step up and be a man and take control of this match. If I was in there it would already be over.
Ashleigh sees Garcia stirring and heads over to pick him up. He sees her coming though and hits her with a stiff right to the gut, then a left and another right before getting to his feet and irish whipping her into the turnbuckle and following up with a hard clothesline dropping Ashleigh to the mat. Garcia then starts unmercifully stomping her, one after the other after the other as she lays motionless. He continues to stomp until Flamero comes over and grabs him, clearly furious.
Matthews: It looks like Flamero is trying to talk some sense into Garcia, he's gone too far!
Constantine:He's done what's needed to be done to be victorious, he's got my full respect and I guarantee he will win this match!
Garcia begins backing away as Flamero goes to check on Ashleigh. She's still motionless as he gets up and turns around and is met with a yakuza kick from Garcia sending Flamero back into the corner hard and dropping him to the mat. Garcia kicks Ashleigh out of the ring and she crashes down to the outside of the ring. He goes for the cover on Flamero, 1...2... Flamero gets his leg under the bottom rope to stop the count. Garcia is incredulous as he gets in the face of the referee demanding a three count, he turns back to Flamero and starts putting the boots to him. Repeated stomps to the chest of Flamero have left his chest raw as Garcia picks him up and drops him down again with a big clothesline. Garcia grabs Flamero by the hair and sends him off the far ropes going for a clothesline but Flamero ducks under and comes off the ropes again only to be met by a huge spinebuster from Garcia. 1...2... kick-out from Flamero! Garcia can't believe it as he slams the mat in frustration. He puts Flamero in an upright position and slams him in the chest with some forearms before locking in the sleeper hold. Flamero is getting drowsy as Garcia locks in the body scissors.
Matthews: Looks like Flamero is out cold!
The referree checks on Flamero as Garcia continues to hold on tight. The ref grabs Flamero's arm and drops it to the mat.
...ONE!
Matthews: Flamero is showing no signs of life, this match could be over!
The referee grabs Flamero's arm again and drops it to the mat.
...TWO!
Matthews: This is it! Garcia's won it!
...THR
Out of nowhere Ashleigh Falkon slides into the ring to catch Flamero's arm before it hits the mat for the third time. Garcia stares in disbelief, a mere half a second away from victory. He releases the hold and gets to his feet and starts to circle Ashleigh. He bull rushes her, trying to use his brute strength but she's too quick for him and dodges out of the way. He continues to circle her and tries to bull rush her again but she drops to her knees and hits him with a thrust to the throat, sending him backwards. She runs off the ropes and hits him with a spin kick sending Garcia reeling against the ropes. She hits him with a couple of kicks to the gut as Flamero stirs behind her. She turns her attention to him and tries to throw him over the rope but fails as Flamero hangs on to the apron as Ashleigh turns back to Garcia. Garcia sees Flamero still on the apron and pushes Ashleigh towards him as Flamero springboards off the top rope clothes lining Ashleigh and knocking her down to the mat, the momentum carrying her out of the ring. Flamero gets back up to his feet quickly and he and Garcia start to exchange blows, with Garcia getting the upper hand.
Matthews:These competitors are going toe to toe, what match!
Constantine: Garcia needs to finish it now while he has the chance, he's clearly been the better man this entire match.
Garcia gets behind and tries to go for a backbreaker but Flamero reverses it and gets behind Garcia. He irish whips him into the corner and hits him with a running big boot sending Garcia to the mat as Flamero climbs the top rope. He motions to the crowd and jumps off the top rope coming down hard on Garcia with a frog splash! He rolls off in pain but makes his way back over for the cover, 1...2... kick-out last second by Garcia! Flamero can't believe it as he gets up and motions for the The Headbuster. Garcia is stirring as he gets to one knee and Flamero bounces off the ropes and hits him The Headbuster driving his skull into the mat. Flamero rolls over for the cover,
...ONE
...TWO
...THR
Matthews: Springboard Moonsault from Ashleigh FalKon! Where did she come from!? This girl must have ice running through her veins, she keeps coming back, nothing seems to effect her!
Constantine: She's insane, just stay down you crazy woman!
All three competitors lay motionless on the mat as the referee starts the ten count.
...ONE
...TWO
...THREE
...FOUR
The two men start to stir as Ashleigh still lays motionless, clearly exasperated from her efforts.
...FIVE
...SIX
...SEVEN
Flamero gets to his feet first to stop the count and walks over to Ashleigh and picks her up by the hair with a sorrowful look on his face. He puts her arm over his head and motions for the Gravity Slam. He lifts her up and slams her over the top rope down hard to the mat with the Gravity Slam, her body laying in a heap completely motionless. He turns back to face Garcia who is just getting to his knee as Flamero motions for another Headbuster. He runs at Garcia, Speedy Gonzales! A right straight from Garcia out of nowhere connects right on the button and sends Flamero down in a heap to the canvas. Garcia rolls over for the cover,
...ONE
Matthews: That's got to be it, these men have left everything in this ring.
...TWO
...THR kick-out from Flamero!
Matthews: What do these men have to do to finish eachother!?
Constantine: What do you mean? Garcia has got this!
Garcia is clearly exhausted as he lifts Flamero to his feet. You can hear Garcia screaming over the crowd as he yells at Flamero to just give up already but Flamero seems to be somewhere else as he stares blankly into the crowd. Garcia steps back and hits Flamero with a buzzsaw kick to the head sending Flamero staggering back against the ropes, the man completely exhaused as a few sparse fans in the crowd chant "UNOS!" Garcia walks over slowly to Flamero and hits him with one more buzzsaw kick, dropping Flamero to one knee, "DOS!" Garcia drops to one knee himself in exhaustion but gathers himself back up and finally hits Flamero in the temple with another buzzsaw kick, "TRES!" The third one sends Flamero down to the mat limp, as Garcia falls over him and hooks a leg.
...ONE
...TWO
...THREE!
Mathews: What a match by these three, all of them putting up a valiant effort!
Constantine: Yes, but the victor was Garcia just like I promised.
Ave: Here is your winner of this match, by way of pinfall, JAVIER GAAAAAARCIAAAA!
_-_-_-_-_
Backstage in the catering area, Steven Holmes is seated behind a small, segregated table adorned in extravagant cloth upon which sits the most elegant of dishes and cutlery, only the vaguest signs that a meal once sat there. Holmes personnel chef quickly clears the dishes from in front of the aristocrat and replaces them with a serving of crème brulee, a shot of espresso, and a glass of cognac. Not acknowledging the man servant, Holmes picks up a spoon and looks to dig in but his eye catches Gordito sitting a couple tables away eating an ice cream bar. Gordito nods and smiles politely while Homes expression changes to suggest that hes lost his appetite.
As this scene unfolds, Hunter Kravinoff passes and starts down a nearby hallway. Kravinoff pushes open one of the first doors on his left to find DK Wilton, back to the door, picking at his belly button in front of a mirror.
Kravinoff: Having trouble getting the ash out?
DK, startled by the voice of Kravinoff, jumps in place.
Wilton: Umm... Yeah...
Kravinoff: Let me help.
The Ugandan Wild Man walks over to Wilton and gets on his knees. He looks up briefly to meet the eyes of Wilton and gauge his reaction. The Classical Freudian Crusader then licks his own finger and sticks it in Wiltons belly button, scratching and swirling, much to the delight of Wilton.
Wilton: Teehee. That tickles!
After a couple moments, Kravinoff removes his finger and takes a look at the belly button of the man standing over him. He then looks up once more to regain eye contact.
Kravinoff: All better.
The Ugandan Wild Man gets to his feet and shoots Wilton a sly stare before leaving. A confused look crosses Wiltons face as he wonders what to make of this encounter.
The lights begin flashing black and white as the music hits, with arms outstretched, out comes Max Karzai.
Ave: Introducing first, from Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, weighing in at 230 pounds... Wrestling legend, MAX KARZAI!
Karzai takes his time walking down the ramp, as he is taking in the whole scene. The crowd is extatic to see the legend in attendance. Karzai puts up a Rock On symbol, putting the crowd in a frenzy.
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Hero by Skillet hits, and Constantine makes his way out to the ramp. Constantine tosses his hands into the air as the chorus hits, and a huge shower of fireworks shoots from behind him. With a determined, yet cocky smirk on his face he makes his way down the ramp and into the ring.
Ave: And his opponent, from Washington, D.C., weighing in at 265 pounds... The Power Trip John Constantine.
Matthews:Well, since my cohort Constantine is in the match, you're stuck with me. But anyway... What a co-main event, folks. You're in for a show as The Power Trip meets Max Karzai, in what is Karzai's last match.
The two men are standing toe to toe, nose to nose, as the anticipation is insane. The crowd is chanting Karzai's name already.
KAR-ZAI!
KAR-ZAI!
KAR-ZAI!
Matthews:Would you listen to that, the people are giving Max Karzai the ovation of a lifetime!
Back in the ring the two men are still staring each other down, neither man has faltered. The referee steps in between the two men to somewhat separate them, and signals for the bell.
As soon as the bell sounds, Karzai hits a running clothesline and sends Constantine sprawling. He follows it up with stomps and Constantine backpedals right out of the ring. Constantine is trying to shake the cobwebs out, as Karzai raises his fist and acknowledges the crowd. Constantine slides back into the ring, fully recovered. Karzai goes for another running clothesline, but Constantine ducks it this time, and hits a drop toe hold. Constantine goes to mount Karzai, but Karzai shoves Constantine off and comes back to a vertical base. Both men come to the center of the ring and begin to exchange a flurry of punches. Right hand after right hand, left hand after left hand is exchanged, but both men refuse to go down. Constantine winds up for a huge hay-maker, but Karzai blocks it and rakes Constantine's eyes. Karzai hits a few chops to Constantine's chest and sends him off into the ropes, he hits a huge Spinebuster right as Constantine comes off the ropes.
Matthews:Some quick action to start off here, Karzai's still got it. He doesn't seem to have lost a step.
Karzai now sensing an opportunity grabs Constantine's right leg and goes for a Boston Crab, he nearly gets it, but Constantine struggles out of it and connects with an up-kick to the chin of Karzai. He springs up and tackles Karzai and begins to wail away on him with vicious punches from a mounted position. Constantine, with the look of a mad man in his eyes, gets up off of Karzai and flashes a cold smirk to the crowd. Constantine backs up a few steps, and then hits a knee drop to Karzai. He goes for a quick cover, but Karzai kicks out nearly instantaneously. Constantine drags Karzai up by his hair and applies a Sleeper Hold.
Matthews: Quite a debilitating move, it could take a lot out of Karzai.
Karzai falls back down to his knees as the move seems to be taking its toll. The crowd chants Karzai's name yet again, attempting to re-energize him.
KAR-ZAI!
KAR-ZAI!
KAR-ZAI!
Sensing the seriousness of his predicament, Karzai gets back to his feet. He turns his body ever so slightly and racks off a few elbows into Constantine's gut, he immediately follows this up with more chops. After a few massive chops, Karzai sets up, and hits, a Powerslam on Constantine. He jumps back up, runs to the ropes and smashes Constantine throat with a massive Leg Drop. The crowd is getting behind Karzai more and more with every move. Karzai steps out of the ring now, and reaches under the ring. He pulls out a Singapore Cane.
Matthews: What the hell is Karzai planning here?
Karzai slides back into the ring, as Constantine is on the other side nearly back up, but using the turnbuckle for support. Karzai runs over and tries to smash Constantine in the head, but he moves out of the way and the Singapore Cane meets the turnbuckle with a resounding thud. Karzai seems stunned for a moment, and that gives Constantine just enough time to recover. Constantine follows his instinct and launches himself at Karzai as the both of them go over the top rope in an entanglement of limbs. The cane lands very close to Constantine's head, and sensing that as he recovers he picks it up. Constantine smashes the cane all over Karzai's back, the cane explodes upon impact as it finally cannot take anymore. Constantine motions to the crowd, and they give him a resounding boo. He begins to walk towards the announce table.
Matthews:What does he want?
Matthews slides his headset off a bit.
Matthews: What the hell do you want, John? Back away.
Constantine: Shut up, Casey. Just give me the damn headset and be a good boy.
Constantine slides the headset on.
Constantine: Huh?! Max Karzai this, Max Karzai that, well you know what: I don't give a shit about Max Karzai. I'm kicking his ass all over this place, and I will send him home just like the has-been he is. I'm goi-
In the time that Constantine had taken to showboat, Karzai had gotten to his feet. Karzai is bludgeoning the back of Constantine's head with punches. He takes the headset cord and chokes Constantine with it. Constantine is purple in the face when Karzai finally quits.
Karzai:There you go, Casey.
Matthews puts the headset back on, a look of amusement on his face.
Matthews: Well, t-t-thanks Max.
Karzai pounds Constantine's head on the announce table, and Constantine looks nearly unconscious. Karzai picks up a steel chair and smashes Constantine's back with it. Constantine attempts to crawl away, but Karzai is relentless as he uses the chair repeatedly and bends it with the force of his shots. Karzai goes to pick Constantine up, but Constantine hits him with a quick low-blow and both men are down now.
Matthews: A dirty tactic by John, but remember folks, totally legal in this Hardcore Match.
Karzai is first to his feet as Constantine is still recovering from the chair shots. Karzai approaches Constantine, but Constantine picks up the chair which is nearly destroyed at this point and smashes it into Karzai's face. Karzai goes back a few steps but does not fall down. Constantine is now up to his feet and he continues to smash the chair into Karzai's head, but Karzai refuses to go down. Blood is pouring down the face of Karzai, but as it reaches his mouth is sends some life into Karzai as he cracks a demonic smile and yells at Constantine to hit him again. Constantine, shocked by Karzai's spirit, hits him in the head again, but Karzai never flinches. Constantine drops the chair and punches Karzai in the face, but again, it does not phase Max Karzai. Finally, Karzai ducks a Constantine punch and smashes an elbow into the small of Constantine's back. Constantine stumbles forward a bit and as he turns to face Karzai, Karzai hits a huge running boot. Karzai lets out a primal roar with the last shot.
Matthews:Look at Karzai go! VINTAGE KARZAI!
Karzai takes the cover off of the announce table, he is obviously setting something up. He picks Constantine up to his feet, and he's about to go for a Powerbomb. He positions himself in front of the announce table, gets Constantine into position over his head, but Constantine uses the momentum to spring clear over Karzai's head out of his grasp. Constantine tries to hit a Clothesline on Karzai, but is met with a Backdrop and goes clean through the announce table.
Matthews: Dear God! Just as Constantine thought he was out of trouble he made the mistake of going for another Clothesline and Karzai called him right on it.
Karzai goes to get another weapon from under the ring, and he pulls out a variety of weapons. A sledgehammer, a trashcan, a table, a baseball bat, a 2x4, and a ladder. Karzai picks up Constantine's seemingly broken body and slides him into the ring. Karzai throws the sledgehammer in as well as the bat, but he seems focused on the ladder. He sets the ladder up in front of the ruins of the announce table and climbs it. He is in position now to dive into the ring.
Matthews:Karzai does not know when to stop, damn it Max!
Karzai now at the top of the ladder throws his hands up over his head as a salute to the crowd. He waits for Constantine to get to his feet and dives off for a huge crossbody, unbeknownst to him, Constantine was holding the sledgehammer in his hands and he backs up and smashes it right into Karzai's chest. Karzai squirms on the ground as he is in obvious agony. Constantine at this point had fallen back to his knees and he crawls over to Karzai and drapes his hand over his shoulders.
Matthews:This may be it!
One... Two...
Matthews: An honorable battle by Karzai.
Thr... KICKOUT.
Matthews: OH MY GOD! How did Karzai kickout?
Constantine has his head in his hands, but he realizes he is close to victory. He stands up and drags Karzai's near lifeless body along with him. He pulls him up for a huge Vertical Suplex, and it is met with nothing from Karzai as he doesn't have enough in the tank to answer. Constantine showboats to the crowd, and Karzai is pulling himself up using the ropes, unwilling to stay down. Constantine, as cocky as ever, struts over to Karzai but Max hits a kick to the midsection and gets the Ride the Lighting out of nowhere.
Matthews: Where did that come from?!
Karzai pulls up Constantine's leg for the cover. One... Two... KICKOUT! Constantine kicks out, but he stays down for a bit longer. Karzai, in the meantime somehow drags himself to his feet and picks up the trashcan from outside the ring. He is waiting for Constantine to get to his feet, Constantine drags himself up, but instantly gets bashed over the head with the trash can by Karzai. He falls back to the turnbuckle in a seated position, and Karzai has an excited look on his face. He points to Constantine and approaches him with the trash can, he puts the can against Constantine's face, and everybody knows what's coming next.
Matthews: Will he hit it? Will he climb the stairway to heaven?
Karzai goes to the opposite turnbuckle and climbs to the top. He springs himself across the ring perfectly and hits a beautiful coast-to-coast, the Stairway to Heaven.
Matthews:Beautifully executed by Karzai!
Karzai drags Constantine to the center of the ring, and goes for the cover.
ONE...
The crowd is counting the pin as well.
TWO...
THREE!
Matthews:He's done it! Karzai will go out... A WINNER!
Ave: And here is your winner of this match... MAX KAAAAARZAIIIII!
Karzai throws his hands up again and he says Thank You to the crowd. He walks up the entrance ramp to a chorus of cheers, he stops just before going behind the curtain and turns to face the ring. He drops to his knees, and throws his hands out to his sides. The crowd chants at him.
THANK YOU, KARZAI!
THANK YOU, KARZAI!
THANK YOU, KARZAI!
With a hissing pop, and a huge flame, just like that folks... Max Karzai disappears.
Constantine struggles to his feet and looks out into the vast crowd that are all motioning vulgar signals to him from behind the barrier. He motions for a microphone and it is given to him.
Constantine:You people... You don't deserve my presence!
Constantine drops his mic and rolls out of the ring and starts up the ramp.
_-_-_-_-_-_
The scene opens in front of the door to an office. The nameplate on the door reads Phallus P. Whitaker General Manager. Gordito passes by, knocks on the door.
Phallus: Come in, I've been waiting.
Gordito opens the door and reveals a massive office on the other side. There is a maple desk in the middle, and fire place just to the left. Phallus is sitting on a large leather chair next to the fire place, with a baton in one hand. He beckons over to Gordito.
Phallus:Gordito, sit down. Make yourself comfortable.
Gordito: Yeah, sure, but uhh... you mind telling me why I'm here?
Phallus: In due time, Gordito. In due time.
Gordito shoots Phallus a puzzled look.
Phallus: Care for a cup of Joe, Gordito?
Gordito:No thanks, I've got a match in a few minutes.
Phallus:Water?
Gordito: No, I'm fine, really. Can we just cut to the chase here?
Phallus: Yeah, well, I understand you speak Spanish, correct?
Gordito: Yes, but what does that have to do with anything?
Phallus: Well, I need you to translate something for me... It's a little sensitive.
Gordito: (Under his breath) You've got to be shitting me.
Phallus: Well?
Gordito: Yeah whatever, but I've got to go in like five minutes.
Phallus: This should only take a minute. You see, I've been focused on making sure that this doesn't go ahead for so long that I never got the chance to... you know... find love.
Gordito lets out a loud groan.
Gordito: Look, I don't roll that way.
Phallus:No, no, I joined a dating site. These assholes don't understand me and that is half of the reason that I want it all shut down.
Gordito:Oh.. OK.
Phallus: And the person I'm looking at right now has their profile in Spanish, can you help me out?
Gordito:Fine.
Phallus pulls out a laptop and opens it up.
Phallus: Here it is.
The screen shows a skinny man wearing tattered jeans and no shirt, his name is Pablo.
Gordito:P-P-P-Pablo? A dude?
Phallus leans into Gordito.
Phallus: SHHH! For God's sake. I've been in here a long time, I just got used to it I guess.
Gordito: OK, look, just let me translate it for you and get the hell out of here?
Phallus points to the biography part.
Gordito:Well, it says that he enjoys long walks on the beach, holding hands, and kissing during the sunset. It also says he likes it if you lick his--
All the while, Whittaker is biting his bottom lip and rubbing his torso slightly. Gordito abruptly gets out of his chair and starts walking towards the door.
Gordito: WHAT THE FUCK?! I'm gonna go now, bye.
Gordito runs out the door, he notices Hunter Kravinoff standing, watching the door.
Kravinoff:Making a bargain with the GM? For shame, Gordito. I always though higher of you, my Freudian analysis of you made me think you had much more pride. I never would have thought you'd cheat to win.
Gordito: Hunter, you have no God damn idea what I just went through. I'll see you in the ring.
Gordito sprints down the hallway and leaves Kravinoff by himself. Kravinoff looks inside the office, where Whittaker is still rubbing himself down. Noticing that Kravinoff is looking at him Whittaker stops and slams the door shut in the Wildman's face.
Kravinoff:I swear, I understand animals better than humans.
Matthews: John Constantine has, seemingly handed in his resignation from WZPW with immediate effect. Too bad but the show must go on and go on it will!
Ave: Ladies and gentlemen, it is not time for the last match of the evening and it is scheduled for one fall.
After a moment, Kravinoff appears on the stage. With a determined look in his eyes, the Wildman knows what type of test lies before him. Kravinoff looks focussed and does not care about the abuse that is being hurled at him from the wings as he moved down the ramp with a frustrated look upon his face.
Ave: Introducing first, weighing in at 245 pounds, from Medicine Hat, Alberta, Canada by way of the East African Republic of Uganda... The Ugandan Wildman, Hunter Kravinoff!
Matthews:Kravinoff is a man that really does not care what he does! You have to get the feeling that a man with his background would feel very much at ease in these surroundings. It is like the wild in here and The Wildman will take advantage of that.
As his name rolls off of the tongue of Hymen Ave, Kravinoff throws both of his arms up into the air and a single shot of pyro spirals into the air behind him. Kravinoff lowers his hands and looks at the fans who reach out their hands to touch the Freudian Crusader. Kravinoff mounts the stairs and enters the ring. He climbs one of the turnbuckles and looks deep into the expectant faces of the crowd. Coming down from his elevated position, Kravinoff waits for his opponent.
A loud eruption of cheers circle around the arena as Gordito's music hits. After a second, Gordito appears on the stage. He raises both of his hands into the air, so that they are level with his head ans begins to slowly turn around, letting the emotion of the moment take hold of him.
Ave: And his opponent for this match, weighing in at 257 pounds, from San Francisco, California... The Dirty One, Gordito!
Matthews: These fans are going crazy for The Dirty One and one gets the feeling that he may need all of the vocal support from the fans as he can get. Kravinoff will be a stern challenge but not one that Gordito cannot overcome.
Gordito lowers his arms and moves down the ramp, enjoying the moment as much as he possibly can. Once he gets to the ring, he slaps some of the hands thank reach out to him. Gordito takes one look at Kravinoff, who stands proudly in the middle of the ring. After a moment, Gordito rolls under the bottom rope and into the ring. Walking right past Kravinoff, Gordito mounts the turnbuckle and raises one hand into the From nowhere, Kravinoff attacks the Dirty One, causing him to tumble off of the turnbuckle and onto the floor below. The impact of Gordito falling all that way resonates around the arena and a loud chorus of FUCK YOU WILDMAN begins to circulate. Kravinoff tosses his arms up into the air with a self-satisfied grin plastered all over his features. Without further boasting though, Kravinoff exits the ring and grabs Gordito. Pulling him to his feet, Kravinoff tosses him back first into the ring steps, further compounding the effects of falling out of the ring to Gordito's back. Gordito lets out a scream of pain as his back connects with the steel. Kravinoff takes a moment to compose himself and then goes back to Gordito. Picking him up once more, Kravinoff carries Gordito away and them slams him into the steel ring-post with devastating impact. Gordito immediately falls to the floor as the chants against Kravinoff appear to be getting louder. After a moment, Kravinoff picks up Gordito and rolls him back under the ropes and into the ring. Following him into the ring, the referee finally signals for the bell. Kravinoff covers Gordito. 1...2... Kick out!
Matthews: Cowardly attacks by Kravinoff mean that this match is now well in his favour. Never before in wrestling, have I seen such cowardice from a man who is supposedly a proud warrior. It is sickening!
Kravinoff cannot believe that Gordito has kicked out but is quick to put it behind him and capitalize on the weakened state of his opponent. Kravinoff lets out a grunt, which one would expect from him. Picking up Gordito once more, Kravinoff attempts to whip him into the far away turnbuckle. However, Gordito manages to reverse the Irish whip and it is Kravinoff who is the one to feel the force of his torso slamming into the barely protected metal rings. The recoils of the impact sends Kravinoff back out of the corner and as he turns around, Gordito pummels him with a Samoan drop that takes both men to the canvas. The referee begins the count as both men lie prone, trying to catch their breath from an outstanding opening to the match. The referee reaches a count of 7 before Kravinoff gets to his feet. Grabbing the head of Gordito, Kravinoff attempts to reclaim the offensive advantage. However, on the way up, Gordito grabs the legs of an unsuspecting Kravinoff and pulls his stability away from him. Kravinoff falls to the canvas and Gordito is quick to apply the Boston Crap in the middle of the ring. A look of sheer, unadulterated pain, not seen since the last time a Justin Beiber tour was announced, covers the face of Kravinoff as Gordito pulls back the legs of his opponent with no mercy. Kravinoff struggles to reach the ropes but they are a long way off in any direction.
Matthews: This could be it! Kravinoff is a long way from any sort of relief and Gordito is good and pissed off due to the attack at the beginning of this encounter.
Gordito continues to tweak the legs and put pressure on the spine and legs of Kravinoff as Kravinoff attempts to reach the bottom rope. The scream of agony that once resonated around the arena from Gordito, is now being echoed by The Ugandan Wildman as he stretches out with all he has towards the nearest rope. With a jerk, Kravinoff begins to pull himself to the nearest rope. His face is illuminated by the pain that is all so evidently featured in the glint of his eye. Slowly but surely, Kravinoff makes some progress across the ring. He reaches out his right arm and as he is about to grab the bottom rope, Gordito pulls him back into the middle of the ring. Gordito smiles wryly as he attempts to put some pressure back onto the legs of Kravinoff but as he leans back, Kravinoff manages to reverse the hold and rolls Gordito up into a small package. 1...2... Kick out! Kravinoff is definitely the worse for wear as Gordito gets off of the canvas looking shocked at the near fall that has just occurred. Gordito moves towards Kravinoff, who still has the look of a damaged man upon his face. Picking up Kravinoff, Gordito back him into the corner and begins plastering his torso with huge backhand chops that are met with a Woo from the crowd. Gordito pulls Kravinoff out of the corner and whips him off of the ropes. As Kravinoff comes back to his opponent, Gordito meets him with a dropkick that sends Kravinoff flying across the ring. A look of etched pain appears on Gordito's face as he nurses the back that was injured in the early goings of the match.
Matthews: This match is taking a heavy toll on both men and you get the feeling that it is going to take something special to get a winner from this encounter.
Gordito crawls over to Kravinoff on his hands and knees and manages to get a cover on The Wildman. 1...2... Kick out by Kravinoff! The crowd boo as Kravinoff manages to get his weary shoulder off of the mat for a moment. Frustrated, Gordito covers Kravinoff once more. 1... Kick out! Gordito gets to his feet and takes stock of what is going on for a moment. He looks into the crowd and as they begin to cheer for him, he signals that the match is going to end for Kravinoff. A louder cheer echoes around the arena as Gordito picks up Kravinoff and looks for the Meteor of War. However, as Gordito hooks the arms of Kravinoff, Kravinoff manages to spiral out and of his predicament and after landing a heavy kick to the gut of his opponent, hits the Ugandan Death Knell. However, the weary Kravinoff cannot lock in the body scissors and Gordito rolls out of the ring to save the cover. After a moment, Kravinoff rolls out of the ring and onto the floor where Gordito is lying motionless. The referee signals for them both to get back into the ring but to no avail. He beings his count as Kravinoff grabs the head of Gordito and pulls him to his feet once more. Grabbing the head and turning around, Kravinoff runs and lands the running bulldog to his opponent. Both men are down until Kravinoff begins to get to his feet. He rolls back into the ring and then out to break the count. By this time, Gordito has lodged himself up against the barrier. Kravinoff thinks for a moment and then waits for Gordito to try and stand up, there are dangerous thoughts on his mind.
Matthews: What the hell is going through the mind of Kravinoff!? Both of these men are utterly spent and all we need is one more big move to finish off this contest.
As Gordito holds onto the barrier, Kravinoff lies on wait. His eyes are filled with promise and he knows that this could be the move that takes him to victory. Gordito cannot hold himself up for long and is using the barrier to help himself up. Gordito manages to get to a vertical basis and as he turns around, Kravinoff makes a run at him, launching himself into a spear. Gordito though, through no judgement of his own, falls to the side and Kravinoff barrels through the barrier and into the crowd. The referee, still waiting in the ring continues his count. Gordito notices the count going on and struggles to the side of the ring.
EIGHT!
Gordito manages to get to one knee, trying to pull himself up...
NINE!
Gordito gets to both feet but cannot keep himself up and collapses on the spot...
TEN!
Matthews:I don't believe it! I... I just don't believe it!
Ave: The referee has ruled that neither man was able to get back into the ring for a count of 10. Therefore, this match has ended in a double disqualification!
The crowd boo as the Kravinoff emerges from the carnage he has caused on his hands and knees. Gordito is only just getting to his feet and is using the edge of the ring to keep himself up. Both me are utterly spent due to a hellacious match that has taken it's toll on the competitors.
A chaotic boo resonates around the arena as Phallus P. Whittaker appears on the stage with a microphone is his hand. He goes to speak but the crowd booing makes him stop for a moment. After a moment, Whittaker begins to speak through a chorus of hate.
Whittaker:You scumbags need to shut the fuck up!
A renewed chorus of booing is aimed at the head officer for the prison as he preaches his words to the crowd.
Whittaker:You people do not deserve sit from us! From the very beginning, I have been against this hideous display of hos tax-payers money can be wasted on putrid wastes of air, such as yourselves. At the start of this event, I told you that I wouldn't let you get away with this shit and no one listened... And now it is time to pay!
At that, men with batons and riot shields join Whittaker on the stage. There numbers continue to grow as more and more armoured men appear. Lined up along the stage, Whittaker and his 12 men prepare for business.
Whittaker: Let's do this thing!
Whittaker and his men begin moving down the ramp. By this time, Kravinoff and Gordito have almost recovered and are standing inside the ring, questioning what is going on. Two men who gave everything are now at the mercy of Whittaker and his men. The armoured guards make it to the ring under intense scrutiny from the audience of cons. Whittaker barks orders at his men, who begin to walk around the ring and cover all aspects of any possible exit for the two men, who are ready for the fight that now, seemingly, awaits them. Whittaker gives the order and all of the men stand on the edge of the ring. Whittaker gives another order as a chorus of boos rain down up on them and the men get inside the ring.
Matthews:What the hell is going on here! Hunter Kravinoff and Gordito are at the mercy of this psychopath!
There is a harsh tension in the air that cannot be denied. All of a sudden Max Karzai, Flamero, Javier Garcia, Sam Smith, Michael Winters, Steven Holmes and the rest of the wrestlers who have made up Incarceration run down the ramp and attack the armoured men that have begun their attack on Kravinoff and Gordito, who are putting up a fight of their own. There are tiots breaking out all over the ring and the outside of the ring. Prisoners jump to their feet and jump the barricade to attack the guards! There are riots as all of the prisoners rush forward to take the men who started the attack to task.
Matthews: It's only fitting that the event should end this way! I'm Casey Matthews and this has been the one and only show of WZPW! Good night!
The screen fades to black as the sounds of rioting takes hold...
Dave: Gordito vs Kravinoff / Smith vs Homes / Opening Coco: Tag Match / Cruz vs James / DK and Kravinoff segment Crock: Karzai vs Constantine / Mozz vs Winters / Gordito segment Thesaurus: Triple Threat / King vs Davids
These are your writers. Rep them well because this was difficult thing to accomplish.
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