Post by Joshua Samson, ESQ on Mar 14, 2020 21:00:46 GMT -8
REMEMBER:
The Icons of IPW are trained professionals
and their stunts should never be attempted without proper training.
PLEASE.
DON'T TRY THIS AT HOME
The Icons of IPW are trained professionals
and their stunts should never be attempted without proper training.
PLEASE.
DON'T TRY THIS AT HOME
ICONIC PRO WRESTLING PRESENTS
IN ASSOCIATION WITH ICONIC MEDIA LLC
A NIGHT OF PROFESSIONAL WRESTLING
IN ASSOCIATION WITH ICONIC MEDIA LLC
A NIGHT OF PROFESSIONAL WRESTLING
Crumb: WELCOME EVERYONE TO CHAOS!!
“Saints of Los Angeles” by Motley Crue blares as the show pans about the capacity crowd of about a thousand or so people. Signs, banners, and posters are sprinkled throughout the crowd such as “MARKED SAFE FROM CORONAVIRUS!”, “HOW LONG BEFORE THE TV TITLE IS VACATED?!”, and “I HEARD JOSHUA SAMSON WAS GOING TO BE HERE TONIGHT!”
Nelson: Now I know that everyone is looking for the show to get underway and so we will try to keep this short and sweet.
Rose: This’ll be a first!
Crumb: People have been all a buzz since Chaos “Love Hurts II”, especially with how the show ended.
Rose: Am I the only one who liked what happened? The only part I don’t like is that ASStrid didn’t end up in the hospital for a longer period of time.
Nelson: While I would like to divulge into that a little bit more, I am getting word that someone is arriving backstage.
The scene changes to the parking area for IPW staff and Icons as a sleek looking black Mercedes GLS580 with dark tinted windows pulls into a spot labeled “Brooklyn Holloway - Owner”. The people in the arena gasp in awe, unsure who’s in the car.
Nelson: What is going on here?! Who would be so bold as to park there?!
Crumb: Nobody has parked in that spot in months as Brooklyn Holloway hasn’t been seen around the IPW arena in quite a long time
Rose: Oh lord…please save us from all the crap that I think is coming.
The car sits there for a few moments before the driver’s side door opens and a tall, muscular man with dark hair steps out and secures the button of his black suit jacket before making his way over to the other side of the car.
Nelson: Is that…
Crumb: No, it can’t be.
Opening the door, the man smiles as a pair of tan womanly legs appear under the door in a pair of black Christian Louboutin pumps. The man extends his hand to take hers and closes the door to reveal a smiling Brooklyn Holloway, dressed in a body-hugging navy skirt and loose black leather looking top. After a quick kiss on the lips, Brooklyn and Josh lock their hands together and start to walk into the Iconic Arena.
Crumb: Well… I’ll be damned. Brooklyn Holloway, who hasn’t been seen on IPW programming in months, is has waltzed back in here with the man who I can only assume is her husband, Josh Holloway.
Rose: I flipping knew it! Of course, she’s got to make a grandiose entrance.
Nelson: And it looks to me as though she has brought her own backup/bodyguard in the form of her husband.
Rose: Why is she even here? It’s because of her lack of leadership that IPW has fallen into the state it is now.
Crumb: I’m still left to wondering why she’s shown up now after all this time?
Nelson: I guess we will just have to wait and find out but until then… on with the show.
Torres: The following contest is an IPW DEBUT match and is scheduled for ONE FALL with a TEN MINUTE time limit!
The arena lights dim, and the crowd pops in anticipation as the lights turn to a pink hue. The titantron shows off the guitar riff beginning the song, before a loud set of words set the crowd in a frenzy.
"KICKIN' IT OUT!"
With that, The Used's "Pretty Awkward Handsome" is in full blast, as out from the back comes "Soul Reaper" Colby Sol, wearing a determined look on his face, while keeping his cool composure with a smile. He throws up the double peace signs as he marches down the ramp, slapping some hands on his way to the ring.
Torres: Introducing first, making his IPW Debut, standing at five foot eleven and weighting in at 213 pounds, hailing from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania…he is ‘SOUL REAPER’, COLBY SOLLLL!!
Colby climbs the ring steps and then the top rope, looking out into the crowd that loves him. He shrugs, jokingly dusting off his shoulder, before leaping into the ring, setting himself down on one knee as he came to the center, and pointed a finger gun at the hard cam, letting off an invisible finger gun, before blowing the smoke off of it to get ready for this match up.
Nelson: Colby Sol is an exciting new prospect that is twenty-four years of age and has been making waves with his signing here at Iconic Professional Wrestling!
Crumb: The fans sure do seem to love him. I don’t know that I’ve ever heard a debuting Icon get this kind of ovation right out of the gate!
Rose: You can’t go by what these idiots cheer for, although…he is quite the looker.
Nelson: ROSE MARIE!
Rose: WHAT?! I’m not supposed to notice the new eye candy!
Crumb: Rose does have a point...
The fans are rabbid with cheers as the sound of ‘Raw Material’ by Deap Vally hits the PA system. Signs go up in the crowd welcoming the ‘Caustic Siren’ as she steps out onto the entrance stage. She’s wearing a vicious smirk.
“Get your hands off my raw material
It's up to me if I'm animal or mineral
Baby, don't take it too personal
But your behaviour is typical, typical”
It's up to me if I'm animal or mineral
Baby, don't take it too personal
But your behaviour is typical, typical”
Her stride is less that of a human and much more that of a predator. She moves slowly, slapping the outstretched hands of fans as she goes. Her focus, however, is on the ring. Methodically she continues, smiling here and there, posing for selfies with a couple fans, until finally she finds herself at the ring steps.
“Get your hands off my raw material
It's up to me if I'm ethereal or visceral
These beats are so delectable it's criminal
Your attempts to change them, it is so pitiful”
It's up to me if I'm ethereal or visceral
These beats are so delectable it's criminal
Your attempts to change them, it is so pitiful”
She slowly climbs the ring steps and quickly slides in between the ropes. Once inside the ring, the lights dazel fans as she goes to the center of the ring and holds her arms outstretched. As ‘Raw Material’ boils to its apex, Shyla moves to her corner of the ring and lightly stretches as she awaits the beginning of the match.
Nelson: Shyla Clemmens had one hell of a debut herself at the last show but came up just a bit shy of a victory thanks to David Gideon Smith.
Rose: Yeah, but she didn’t eat the pin, so technically can you say that’s a loss?
Crumb: Well, it certainly isn’t what she was hoping for, but at the end of the day she gets an opportunity to set things right.
Rose: That she does, so why don’t you two zip it cause here comes the bell!
DING DING DING
---Iconic Pro Wrestling Debut Match: Colby Sol vs. “Caustic Siren” Shyla Clemmens---
The fans give both Icons a loud ovation as they move in to lock up. Before they can ever get there, however, Colby Sol sends a shoot kick into Shyla’s thigh, causing the woman to back pedal back to her corner of the ring. She gives the newcomer a measured look before slowly moving back in to attempt another collar-and-elbow. Again, a lightening fast shoot kick catches her right on the thigh, but this time it’s followed by two more that have the Caustic Siren hot stepping and grabbing at her leg.
Nelson: Colby Sol opening up with some martial arts style kicks to Clemmens and has her on the run early.
Crumb: Spoke too soon, Patrick! Shyla just caught him by the foot, AND SNAP DRAGON LEG WHIP TAKES HIM TO THE MAT!
Rose: Wow, you’re really excited about that move!
Crumb: Whatever…Clemmens now in control of Sol’s left foot and gives it a hard yank before grapevining the leg!
Colby lets out a cry of pain as Shyla works over the insertion of his knee, pulling back as hard as she can to try and hyperextend the young man’s knee. He digs into the mat with the heel of his other boot and uses his superior size and strength to drag Shyla from the center towards the ropes where he grabs hold of the bottom. The referee calls for the break and Shyla complies, both superstars coming to their feet. Clemmens is a step quicker and drives in some well-placed forearms while Sol remains trapped by the ropes before taking him by the wrist and shooting him to the opposite side!
Nelson: Reversal! Clemmens now rocketing towards the ropes and springs back and WALKS RIGHT INTO A HIGH STANDING DROP KICK FROM SOL!
Crumb: Man, these two are like lightning in a bottle as they are already back to their feet, but Sol this time with forearms that send Clemmens back into the ropes.
Rose: Didn’t we just see this? Now Colby sends Clemmens to the far side and she springs back while he steps out to meet her…
Nelson: AND SHE WHIPS AROUND TO CATCH HIM WITH A HEADSCISSORS TAKEOVER THAT SENDS HIM FLIPPING TO THE MAT!
Colby impacts and comes back up to his feet just in time to see Shyla diving at him with a spinning wheel kick that sends him crashing back to the mat. She’s quick to her feet and scrambles towards the ropes where she springboards off the second looking for a moonsault. Unfortunately for her, Sol isn’t that dazed, and manages to get both knees up just as she lands. Shyla stumbles away hunched over and clutching her ribs as Colby performs a kip up that delights the crowd, and just when she turns back in his direction he rushes forwards into a shotgun drop kick that sends her sailing backwards to crash against the turnbuckles.
Nelson: Goodness gracious! Shyla Clemmens just slammed off those turnbuckles and now drops to a seated position clutching at her back…
Crumb: Yeah, and Colby see’s it as he takes a few steps back to the far corner…rushes across…AND BASEMENT DROPKICK CRUSHING SHYLA OFF THE BOTTOM TURNBUCKLE!
Rose: Damn, if her ribs weren’t broke before, they are now…
Colby grabs Shyla by the ankle and drags her away from the corner before dropping over her to hook the leg.
One…
Two…
THR...KICK OUT!
Nelson: Clemmens gets out at two and half, but Sol is now pulling her up to a seated position and locks on a neck crank that has Clemmens in some sort of way!
Rose: I can tell you what way it is, Patticake! Painful!
Colby cranks on Shyla’s neck as she fights to regain her footing, the crowd equal parts cheering her own while calling for her to submit. Eventually she does manage to get her knee under her, and she pushes up to her feet, driving in some hard elbows that break Colby’s hold on her head. She quickly falls into the ropes as he clutches his breadbasket after the shots, but when she springs back he suddenly sidesteps her, hooking her outside leg with his, while slipping around and hooking her arm to tie her up in a standing abdominal stretch.
Crumb: Oh! That’s a hold you don’t see very often out of today’s Icons, but super effective considering the damage that’s already been done to Shyla’s ribs.
Nelson: You are right, Crumb, as this will stretch the rib cage and can cause a separation!
Colby yanks back on the hold as Shyla cries out in pain, her ribs obviously showing signs of injury. The ref remains bent right in front of her, but every time he asks for a submission, she’s quick to shake her head ‘no’. After a few more seconds of excruciating pain Shyla reaches down with her one free hand and manages to get a hold of Sol’s ankle, giving it a yank to throw him off balance. The play works, but both Icons tumble to the mat. Shyla comes up near the ropes as Colby scrambles to his feet and charges forwards with a clothesline. Shyla, however, ducks low while taking the top rope with her and Colby is dumped into a front roll where he lands hard against the cold hard concrete floor.
Nelson: This could be Clemmen’s chance to regain the upper hand here as she watches from the ring.
Crumb: Colby slow to get back to his feet after striking the concrete, but who could blame him?
Rose: Better watch your girl on the inside, here she comes…
Shyla reaches that side of the ring and springs right over the top rope into a corkscrew plancha that leaves the fans stunned as she crashes down onto Colby Sol. Both superstars are laid out on the outside of the ring as the referee runs around yelling at them before finally starting a count.
Nelson: Both Icons are slow to get up after that death-defying dive by Clemmens, and the referee has reached a four count!
Crumb: It would be a real shame for this one to end on a count out, but that move had a lot of torque and impact to it. I don’t know if they’ll make it.
Rose: Good Lord, you two kill me. Every time one of these moron’s clashes on the outside you say the same things. If they don’t want to endanger the match, then stay in the freakin’ ring.
Nelson: You know, Rose Marie, I cannot believe I am going to say this…but I agree with you.
Both competitors grab at the ring apron at the count of seven and Colby manages to roll in by eight. Shyla climbs up on the apron to lean against the ropes instead, and just when Colby gets to his feet and turns in her direction, she uses the top to springboard into the ring looking for her Giant Killer (springboard roundhouse kick)! Colby, however, is able to duck under the way and Shyla soars harmlessly overhead to land on the other side of him!
Nelson: Clemmen almost took Sol’s head off with her finisher, but he managed to get out of the way, and now…
Crumb: Shyla spins around TO TAKE A STRAIGHT BOOT RIGHT THROUGH HER FACE!
Rose: Damn!
Shyla hits the mat, but the impact bounces her back up to her feet clutching at her nose and she walks right into another boot to the face by Sol, only this time he grabs both of her arms and snaps straight down to the mat for an Eat Defeat that looks like it may have dislocated her jaw. Clemmens is sent crashing to the mat after the move, and Colby crawls in to drape his body over hers.
One…
Two…
THRE...KICK OUT!
Nelson: GOODNESS GRACIOUS!
Crumb: WHAT CAN EVERYONE BE THINKING AFTER SHYLA CLEMMENS KICKED OUT OF SUCH A MOVE?!?!
Rose: Probably, “She’s not going to be a fan favorite for long if she has to bandage her whole skull!”
Nelson: Either way, Colby Sol can not believe that Shyla Clemmens kicked out of that and is now looking to try and finish this as he pulls Clemmens up by the head and OH!
Crumb: SHYLA JUST KNOCKED HIS HANDS AWAY, HOOKS HIM AROUND THE HEAD AND FALLS STRAIGHT BACK WITH BOTH KNEE TUCKED TOWARDS HIS FACE!
Nelson: SHATTERING POINT (double knee facebuster)!
Rose: She’s got him spun over for a cover!
One…
Two…
THRE...KICK OUT!
Crumb: WHAT CAN EVERYONE BE THINKING AS COLBY SOL JUST BARELY GETS HIS SHOULDER UP AT THE LAST NANOSECOND?!?!
Rose: Probably, “Maybe he and Shyla can exchange numbers about their future plastic surgery!”
Both competitors are down in the center of the ring, battered and bruised, causing the referee to start a count of ten. Shyla is the first to her feet, breaking the count at five, when she stumbles over to the nearby corner and begins to climb. She perches herself so that she's facing the ring, but much to her and everyone else's surprise, Colby pushes up to his feet and rushes the same corner. With a leap up to the second he's met with right hands by Shyla, but still manages to gain his footing so that he can fire in shots of his own. He steps over the top rope, forcing Shyla to step down to the second on the opposite side of the turnbuckles, and the two continue duking it out from on high.
Crumb: Where are these two getting the energy to still fight like this!
Nelson: I do not know, but they are in a very precarious position on the turnbuckles and it looks like they are slipping!
Rose: God, wouldn't that be something! After all we've seen these two go splat on the....oh...well there they go!
One shot too many to the beleaguered superstars and their balance on the turnbuckles finally gives way. Both go crashing down on opposite sides of the ring post to strike the concrete hard, and the fans all 'Oooo' and 'Aaaa' from the crash landing while the referee looks on in horror. Finally composing himself, he shakes his head while starting the ten count.
One...
Two...
Three...
Nelson: Neither Icon is moving here...we may need to get EMTs down to ringside.
Four...
Five...
Six....
Crumb: Yeah, I think they may be injured. This isn't looking good.
Seven...
Eight...
Nine...
Rose: Well this is disappointing.
Ten!!!
The bell sounds just as Shyla and Colby begin to stir, but its too little, too late, as the referee confers with the ring announcer.
Torres: Due to NEITHER Icons being able to make it back to the ring by the COUNT OF TEN, this match has been called a DRAW!
Shyla Clemmens pulls herself to her feet by use of the apron as Colby Sol scoots towards the guard rail to try and find his. Neither of the Icons looks too pleased with this outcome, but the match is officially over, so they find themselves taking separate routes to the backstage area.
Nelson: Tough break for The Caustic Siren and Colby Sol, but hopefully we will see these two have another crack at it as this was a fantastic match up until the ending.
Crumb: Agreed. Sometimes that's just the way the cookie crumbles, right?
Rose: Whatever. I'd prefer to see someone who can actually get the job done.
Crumb: Jeez, Rose. You're all heart.
Nelson: Anyways, stay tuned folks cause we will be back with more Iconic Professional Wrestling Chaos in--
Suddenly the regularly scheduled IPW programming is cut off by the sounds of “T-R-O-U-B-L-E” by Travis Tritt suddenly blaring through the PA system. It’s pretty obvious that the song has been modified to some extent, as the lyrics don’t match the original. Instead, they’ve been replaced by…
Well I play an old manager from nine till half past one
I'm just tryin' to make a livin' watching everybody else havin' fun
Well I don't miss much if it happens on a wrestling arena floor
Mercy, look what just walked through that door
I'm just tryin' to make a livin' watching everybody else havin' fun
Well I don't miss much if it happens on a wrestling arena floor
Mercy, look what just walked through that door
The video wall flashes to life with a picture montage of Bobby Benson and his family, THE Willie Pete and James Radford, when The Manager of Manager’s comes tearing through the curtain, megaphone in hand.
Well hello P-R-O-S-P-E-C-T
Tell me what in the world you doin' A-L-O-N-E
Yeah say You need some B-O-DOUBLE B-Y
Well I smell T-R-O-U-B-L-E
Tell me what in the world you doin' A-L-O-N-E
Yeah say You need some B-O-DOUBLE B-Y
Well I smell T-R-O-U-B-L-E
Bobby throws his hands up to try and hype up the crowd, who look like they’ve been dumbstruck by the ridiculous manager. It doesn’t seem to take away from his energy at all as he bebops down to the ring, rounding the corner and taking the steps up into the ring.
Nelson: Well...uh...this is a surprise.
Crumb: Remember last show, Bobby Benson promised that his Family would be expanded, and I guess he’s out there to make good on his promise.
Rose: What the hell is this music?!
Well a sweet talkin', sexy walkin', honky-tonkin' wrassler
The women are gonna love ya and the men gonna hate ya
Remindin' them of everything they're never gonna be
May be the beginning of championship history…
The women are gonna love ya and the men gonna hate ya
Remindin' them of everything they're never gonna be
May be the beginning of championship history…
Bobby reaches the center of the ring and places his megaphone down in place of a microphone he produces from his pocket. He gives the fans a warm smile before raising the device to his lips.
Bobby Benson: Never fear, Never fear! I, The Manager of Managers, Bobby Benson, am here to let you know that at least one person in this company is capable of keeping his promises! I told you last week that I would be expanding the Benson Family, and tonight I’ll do just that!
The fans begin to boo, and Bobby looks around bewildered by their reaction.
Bobby Benson: Now wait just a goddamn minute! Before you start acting like Santa Monica freeloaders, let me give an introduction to someone that you all can look up to…
The fans boo louder.
Bobby Benson: A man that is the future of this business. A man that is going to be your next champion. A man that is all man, and more man than you’ll ever be. A man that is going to take all of your women, all of your money, and none of your STD’s! Friends, I introduce to you….
Pause for dramatic effect.
Bobby Benson: KIIIPPP CLASSSICCC!!
Bobby bows to the audience, though they don’t know what for, while sweeping his hand towards the stage where nothing happens. Bobby pauses and clears his throat into the mic.
Bobby Benson: Friends, I introduce to you...KIIIPPP CLASSSICCC!!
Again, Bobby sweeps his hand towards the stage and once again, nothing happens. Bobby remains cool calm and collected with a grin affixed to his face with mental super glue.
Bobby Benson: FRIENDS! I introduce…
Before Bobby can finish, ‘Anarchy Road’ by Carpenter Brut hits the PA system. The lights drop, but it’s pretty obvious that Bobby’s not terribly impressed by how things are going. Spotlights hit the entrance as Kip Classic steps out from the darkness.
Bobby Benson: He’s incredible! An adonis! A perfect vision of humanity! Alexander of Macedon, Reborn!
Kip makes his way down the entrance ramp and it’s pretty apparent that he has the looks of One Direction and the body of a professional bodybuilder. From a standing position, he leaps up to the ring apron with one swift movement. Then he slingshots over the top rope into the ring. He walks up to Bobby as the lights come up and the music dies down.
Kip leans into the mic.
Kip Classic: Sorry for being late. Erica was giving me a handy and had one finger in my bum so it took a minute to get my stuff together again. You seriously talk for like a long time!
Kip smiles into the camera and holds two fingers up, kisses them, and extends a peace sign with the aforementioned kissed fingers.
Kip Classic: Love you Erica!
Bobby looks a little perturbed by the excuse, but shrugs it off in favor of getting on with it.
Bobby Benson: Now that you’re here, Kip, why don’t you lay out for these losers exactly what it is your plans are here in IPW!
Kip nods and it appears as though he’s formulating what will be an amazing monologue. One that will shock and awe the fans to the point of near self destruction or at least relentless masturbation. But what comes out of Kip’s mouth isn’t exactly that awe inspiring nonsense everyone was hoping for.
Kip Classic: Uhhhh. Well, I think it would be, like, cool if I got to, like, win some matches. I got this dude, he’s like my teacher, his name is Brennan Devlin, and he suggested I f*ck people to death.
Kip thinks about it for a moment.
Kip Classic: I guess that and doing good deeds like visiting with mentally handicapped people and fat people, you know, for like, Charity. Because I want to be a good role model for the kids.
Bobby looks on horrified as the crowd all shake their head in awe at the disturbing logic of Kip Classic. Realizing he needs to recover the situation, Bobby decides that it might be better if Kip does less talking and just stands there looking impressive. He wheels the mic back over to himself, and points right at the hard camera.
Bobby Benson: You heard it here first folks! Kip Classic is here to f*ck this company to death, but still manages to maintain some sense of dignity and pride by helping the less fortunate! If you have a kid with a dent in his head, or some malformity, never fear! Kip Classic is the superstar you’re little mongoloid can look up to! Matter of fact, I’m pretty sure there are a few of those in the crowd here tonight! Kip...Kip…
Bobby steps up to the ropes and points down at a fan in the first row.
Bobby Benson: Just look at this poor, downtrodden, goofy looking, son of a bitch! Kip, you’ve got to do something about this! Go down there and give the guy a hug of something!
The fan, a man of average build and average looks, starts yelling obscenities at Bobby as Kip looks on, uncertain of what to do. Bobby gives Kip a slight shove towards the ropes, all the while shaking his head in mock sympathy.
Bobby Benson: Christ Almighty, Kip! The poor bastard doesn’t just look like a baboon, but it looks like he has tourettes syndrome too!
Kip slips through the ropes to exit the ring, and the fan raises his fist in a threatening fashion as ‘The Classic’ approaches him awkwardly. Just as Kip tries to move in for a hug, the fan uncoils his right arm and his fist banks off of his jaw. A sudden look of rage comes over the new arrival, and he leaps at the man, gripping him around the throat and proceeds to try and choke him out.
Crumb: What the…HE CAN’T DO THAT!
Rose: Finally! I might like this guy after all!
Nelson: Rose Marie, we cannot have our Icons just taking liberties like this with our fans! Bobby Benson is going to have to do something about this!
In the ring, Bobby is turned around to try and quiet the booing crowd, but when they begin to cheer and laugh he turns to see his ward trying to murder the fan. Looking like a wacky inflatable arm man, Bobby abandons the mic for his megaphone and quickly rolls out of the ring, screaming at the top of his lungs.
Bobby Benson: KIP! KIP!! GET CONTROL OF YOURSELF! BAD P.R.! BAD P.R.!
The megaphone is close enough to Kip’s ear that he jerks away from the fan clutching at the side of his head while Bobby hops up and down excitedly. He hurriedly reaches into his pocket and tosses a wad of dollar bills at the half strangled fan, and grabs Kip by the arm and starts dragging him towards the back. The fans continue to chide and goad the young superstar, all the while, Bobby screaming at them that Kip Classic will show them all why he is the best in the world!
The feed cuts to a backstage corridor, where Shyla Clemmens has changed from her ring gear back into street clothes, packed up her personal effects, and is making her way out of the Iconic Arena with a roller suitcase in tow. She makes it to within ten paces of the exit when she stops short, something having caught her eye from off-camera.
Shyla: Well sh*t, look who it is.
The camera pans to the right, revealing David Gideon Smith -- also garbed in street clothes, seated atop a storage crate with his luggage resting at his feet. At the sound of Shyla’s voice he looks up from the small card he holds in his hands.
Shyla: Am I the only one getting deja vu right now? You on that crate, me trying to find some goddamn peace and quiet --
DGS: Is this you?
Shyla stops short, approaching David as he holds up the card in his fingers. The camera zooms in on it as well, showing it to be a business card:
SHYLA CLEMMENS
BOARD CERTIFIED PSYCHOLOGIST
[address and contact information redacted]
BOARD CERTIFIED PSYCHOLOGIST
[address and contact information redacted]
Shyla: Oh… that. Yyyyyeeeaaahhh… this is awkward. Main hustle and side hustle bumping shoulders, and all that.
David arches an eyebrow at her.
DGS: There were two stacks of these in catering. And -- wait a minute. Which one’s which?
Shyla’s eyes go momentarily wide.
Shyla: Oh. Um…
DGS: Whatever. Doesn’t matter. Are you accepting new patients?
If anything, the look of bewilderment on Shyla’s face only grows more pronounced.
Shyla: Excuse me?
DGS: You. Shyla Clemmens, Board Certified Psychologist.
He holds the card up again, between their faces.
DGS: Are you -- Shyla Clemmens, Board Certified Psychologist -- accepting new patients?
Shyla: I -- yes? What? Are you -- are you asking me for counseling?
Now it’s David’s turn to spend some time on the back foot: he looks off-put for a moment, then sheepish, then finally resigned.
DGS: … yes. Yes, I am asking you for counseling. I, um…
He looks up and off to the left, scratching behind his ear.
DGS: I have some sh*t to work through.
Shyla softens her face and looks at him more carefully, then nods.
Shyla: Okay. Yeah dude, if you want to come and talk sometime, that's fine. It'll be fine.
She bites her lip nervously. The weird vibe Shyla got off him hadn't waivered since day one. It would be interesting, to say the least.
David, by this point visibly and profoundly uncomfortable, doesn’t manage much more in the moment than a single curt nod.
DGS: Yeah. Fine.
Shyla: Well, just call my secretary and arrange a time when you're ready. Be prepared though, my secretary is a real cunt.
In reality, Shyla's secretary was actually Shyla, pinching the bridge of her nose and talking in a cockney accent.
DGS: I… yeah. I’ll watch myself.
Smith hops down off the storage crate, hefts the duffel bag at his feet up and over his shoulder, and without another word heads back down the corridor. Shyla watched him as he goes, a quizzical expression on her face.
Shyla: Okay. Well, that was definitely something out of left field.
~~
Torres: The following match is an IPW DEBUT match scheduled for ONE FALL with a TEN MINUTE time limit!
"Revenge" by Joyner Lucas ushers in Jason Jacobs.
Nelson: Not much is known about Jason Jacobs, so I am interested in seeing what he has to offer.
Crumb: I tried to do some digging as per usual, but even I couldn’t come up with something about him to talk about.
Rose: Well he looks like he’s just another one of those hotshot losers who won’t be sticking around for too long. He’s a dime a dozen.
The lights dim in the arena as "Cocky Af" by Megan Thee Stallion blares through the speakers. Blaise saunters out from behind the curtains. She stops at the top of the ramp, where a white spotlight shines. She lowers her sunglasses before turning to display her initials "GG" that are looped and written in gold on her jacket. It stands for many things, the list really went on- what she's known to the real world- Gwendolyn Geier, what she is to the pro-wrestling world- the Golden Girl, the Golden Standard. And so much more. You didn't want to get her started. Blaise stretches her hands out before turning to face the crowd again. She has a grin red-painted lips as she adjusts her glasses to cover her eyes again before walking down the ramp.
As she walks forward, the spotlight follows along with her. Blaise sings along to her song, with a hop in her step. She reaches the side of the ring and hops on. With one unimpressed look to the crowd, Blaise enters the ring and discards her sunglasses to the side. She walks to the turnbuckle across the ring and is halfway up, before jumping down with a smirk much to the dismay of the camera-ready fans. Blaise carefully takes off her jacket and hands it to someone before beginning her stretches.
Nelson: Blaise has had a very storied career thus far but her Iconic Professional Wrestling in-ring debut really did not go the way we are used to seeing from her.
Crumb: Well to be fair, she was thrown into quite the kerfluffle of a match… though I did expect her to come out on top.
Rose: She couldn’t even beat ASStrid back in that dumpster fire of a company. You both need to stop holding her on such a pedestal.
The sound of the bell ringing to start the match echoes around the arena.
DING DING DING!!!
---Iconic Pro Wrestling Debut Match: Jason Jacobs vs. Blaise---
Blaise looks ready for the match, Jacobs can be seen looking her up and down before forming a cocky smirk across his face. They lock-up in the center of the ring, Blaise takes a side-headlock, Jacobs slips out the back into a hammerlock, pushing the arm up to maximize his leverage. Blaise slides under and takes a side arm-bar. Jacobs rolls through and goes for a hip-toss but Blaise doesn’t budge. She swings a knee into the stomach of Jacobs and places a leg over his head to flip herself back over and into a waist-lock. Jacobs drops down but Blaise goes for a wheelbarrow lift and comes back with a side headlock takedown to the mat. Blaise wastes no time in the hold and rolls him over for a pin.
On...kick out!
Nelson: Blaise sure is looking to pick up a win here tonight. She has been taking it to Jacobs since the get go.
Crumb: Even though she didn’t get the one count, she’s surely showing Jason Jacobs that she will not be going down without a fight.
Rose: To be fair, I don’t really care about either of these competitors. I’d rather watch paint dry.
Getting to his feet, Jacobs charges at Blaise but eats a drop-toe hold for his troubles. He pops back up but Blaise meets him with a spinning heel kick. Scrambling to his feet he only manages to be upright long enough to eat a superkick. She drops for the cover...
One…
Tw...kick out!
Blaise tries to pick up Jacobs but he conceals a gouge to the eyes from the referee that sends her staggering back.
Nelson: Oh now that is a cheap move.
Crumb: It looks to me that he’s got a little bit of desperation going on.
Rose: I wouldn’t be surprised… he looks like the time of scumbag that would resort to dirty tactics.
Sensing his opportunity, Jacobs takes the lead and charges her with a high knee to the face sending her back into the ropes. He stays on the offensive and blows her a kiss before unleashing chops that reverberate around the Santa Monica arena.
Crowd: WOOO!!!!!
The referee tries to back Jacobs away as Blaise holds onto the ropes, he throws his hands up in mock protestation but no sooner has he taken two steps away than he lands his own superkick! The Puerto-Rican grabs a leg and starts to stomp away at it, spinning round he looks for the figure-four leglock but Blaise has it scouted and grabs him for a small package…
One…
Tw...kick out!
Nelson: Blaise caught Jacobs off guard there and I do not think that he liked it very much.
Blaise keeps hold of Jacobs’ head and pulls him to a standing position, hitting him with a swinging neckbreaker. Jacobs holds his head whilst Blaise rushes to the ropes before leaping off for a springboard moonsault. But Jacobs manages to get his knees up at the last possible second. Blaise is barely on her feet as she holds her ribs allowing Jacobs to seize the opportunity and grab her by the head, taking her down to the mat with a Russian legsweep. The crowd is kicking into life as he points to the turnbuckle before finding the nearest camera. He slowly climbs up the turnbuckle but he takes too long and Blaise rushes up and leaps up for a top rope double knee backbreaker!
Nelson: Oh, now that had to hurt!
Crumb: I don’t know if there’s ever coming back from that?
Rose: Just shows that he’s not ready for the big time and should go back to wrestling school.
The cameras zoom in to show Jacobs writhing in agony from the high-impact move. Blaise locks in a front-facelock on him and pulls him back to a vertical base before hitting Trail Blaiser (bridging swinging fisherman suplex).
One…
Two…
THREE!!!
Nelson: There it is, ladies and gents! Blaise has gotten her first win here in Iconic Professional Wrestling!
Crumb: Jacobs looked like he was going to win there for a second, but his hesitation wound up costing him the match.
Rose: Are you even surprised?
The cameras cut to the backstage. Butterscotch Monroe has a microphone in her hand as she stands next to a supremely confident looking Cross Recoba. He adjusts the lapel on his suit jacket, his expression reading like he knows the fight might be won before the bell has even sounded. Next to him is an object covered by a sheet that is roughly half the size of the Cicero native.
Monroe: Thanks, guys! I’m standing backstage with Cross Recoba, who faces off later in the show against British Legend, Chris Crippler. But, what every fan at home has picked up on is that despite your team’s loss last time out you’re still not letting Aaron Kostan off the hook!
Cross laughs out loud.
Recoba: Let me tell you, Butterscotch, that if you want to ask that question you should ask it of Aaron Kostan. The man is obsessed! Think about this, he launched his partner at me to take me out, he knew the threat I posed. But STILL...still he continues to let me live rent-free in his head. He faces off against Drake Jones tonight and it’s almost as if he’s trying to prove to me he’s better than me!
Monroe: You’re referring to your victory over Jones at New Year, Who Dis? Two I presume?
Recoba: Victory? It was a massacre, I didn’t even have to get out of second gear when I was in that ring with Jones! Kostan? He’s spent more time this week trying to convince everyone, including himself, that his win means he’s better than me. I’m still undefeated where it counts, no-one has pinned me, no-one has made me tap out…
Monroe: Last week will go down as a loss though, Cross-
Recoba: -It should come with an asterisk next to it! He talks about how I invented Mr IPW and perhaps he’s right. You see, this isn’t the Kostan that would be a first-time ballot into the Hall of Fame. This isn’t the Artist who made this company his own...this time around we’re all just waiting for him to take his ball and go home again. Maybe I’ll start a pool, pick the excuse he comes up with and win a prize.
Monroe: He’s held every singles title here in the IPW, are you saying that you don’t fear his Kostan Crab?
Recoba looks a mix of amused and irritated. He whips the cover off the object next to him to show a mannequin bearing a “MR IPW” t-shirt.
Recoba: He can claim all he wants that I invented this Mr IPW stuff and if I did, I’ll take all the credit but here’s the deal, Aaron. All it is is a name, a myth that you want to turn into a legend but here’s what you’re forgetting. If I built up Mr IPW then you can be damn sure I can tear him down, and that starts at Civil War!
Cross pulls a zippo out of his pocket and quickly lights it before casually tossing it at the shirt which erupts into flames as he walks out of shot. The camera lingers on the mannequin as we see the t-shirt engulfed in fire and the MR IPW logo slowly disintegrate
~~
The camera cuts in backstage. There’s a bit of a haze in the air as it pans around towards Aaron Kostan, a look of concern on his face, approaching Butterscotch Monroe who is talking with an official with a fire extinguisher resting against his leg.
Aaron: “What in the world happened here!?”
Butterscotch: “Just your typical backstage interview.”
She motions towards what appears to have been a mannequin, though bits of it are melted or broken off in a pile of debris and ash on the floor.
Aaron: “Are you alright?”
Butterscotch: “Yes, I am fine. I appreciate the concern.”
Aaron: “Who did this?”
Butterscotch: “Wait a minute...you didn’t see any of this happen, did you?”
Aaron: “Well I typically try to watch as the show unfolds, but I must have been in the bathroom during the fireworks display.”
Butterscotch: “It was Cross Recoba.”
Aaron: “Ah…”
Butterscotch: “And that pile of ashes over there? It was a ‘Mr. IPW’ t-shirt.”
Aaron points to his chest in shock.
Aaron: “My shirt?”
Butterscotch nods in affirmation. ‘The Artist’ laughs in response, walking up towards the pile of ash and bits of cloth that managed to escape the consuming flames and crouching down to inspect it.
Aaron: “I guess me wanting to consign him to my past didn’t sit well with him, so he threw a tantrum like a child...A rather dangerous tantrum at that.”
Butterscotch: “He was pretty adamant that his loss to you and Drake last week was not a true loss.”
Aaron: “That’s the standard reaction for children when they lose. It seems I have taken up residence in his head whether I want to or not.”
Now, it’s Monroe’s turn to chuckle.
Butterscotch: “He said the same thing about you.”
Aaron shakes his head as he stands back to his feet.
Aaron: “He is in my head? Please! I have more important matters to attend to, like winning my match against Drake Jones later and putting to bed that petty grudge of his. I don’t have the time nor the desire for a new grudge to deal with!”
He turns briefly back to the mess created by Cross Recoba.
Aaron: “But maybe Cross and I need to have a chat before Chaos comes to a close tonight…”
The camera pans back down to the charred remains of Kostan’s merchandise before fading out.
~~
Torres: The following IPW DEBUT match is scheduled for ONE FALL with a TEN MINUTE time limit!
"Judas" by Fozzy ushers in Darren Calloway.
Nelson: Darren Calloway is a newcomer here to Iconic Professional Wrestling, but from what I have gathered he has been trained by some pretty big names.
Crumb: None of that matters if you can’t back it up in the ring. Let’s wait and see if that will be happening here tonight.
Rose: I doubt it… but OK.
With ”Mama Said Knock You Out” playing in the background Jessie walks out onto the stage and starts to bounce around trying to get loose. She waited for a few moments before she walked down and slaps hands with a few fans as she does this before she stops at the steps slapping the top of them before getting in the ring. She then gets in and bounces around then if she is out on her own look at the entrance waiting for her opponents or if others are in the ring she looks on at them.
Nelson: Jessie Roberts is quite the fighter and heading into this thing you can almost feel the confidence radiating off of her.
Rose: You always say something like that and usually she ends up failing. I mean, that is what she does.
Crumb: And you’re always a Negative Nancy. You could really lighten up a little bit.
DING DING DING!!!
---Iconic Pro Wrestling Debut Match: Darren Calloway vs. "Hawkeye Warrior" Jessie Roberts---
Calloway is jaw jacking with the crowd as the bell sounds to get the match underway. Jessie, by comparison, watches on with a look of determination towards Calloway. Calloway goes to lock-up but Jessie takes matters into her own hands and starts to unload a barrage of overhand rights to the skull of her opponent. Calloway, not receiving the welcome to the IPW he expected, reels back with each blow. Jessie batters him to the ropes before whipping him to the ropes...clothesline takes down Calloway. He gets to his feet quickly but only eats a running forearm strike that puts him into the corner.
Nelson: Calloway needs to step his game up if he wants to make an impression here on the Iconic Professional Wrestling faithful.
Crumb: It doesn’t look like the bragging to the crowd helped to get them on his side.
Rose: Of course these mindless idiots will cheer for someone who’s as boring as Jessie.
The crowd starts to get behind Jessie and she raises an arm to acknowledge them as she circles around the ring. Seeing Calloway still looking a little bit dazed in the corner she charges at him, looking for another strike to land but instead, a drop toe hold plants her face-first into the middle turnbuckle. Roberts looks stunned, Calloway doesn’t dither and wraps a half-nelson hold onto her as he pulls her to her feet. He lifts her up and plants her with a backbreaker that silences the crowd.
Nelson: That was the opening that Calloway needed. Now if he can capitalize on this situation, things might wind up going in his favor.
Crumb: That backbreaker from Darren had to shake Jessie. Hell, even I’m feeling a bit of a twinge.
Rose: There you go, over-exaggerating yet again.
Rolling to the apron, Jessie looks to regroup. Her opponent has other ideas as he takes two steps before spinning and connecting with a discus elbow smash that rocks Roberts. She hangs on to her footing, aided greatly by the middle rope. Smelling blood, Calloway takes the lead and steps between the ropes to the apron. He charges her with a lifting knee to the head that once more rocks her but she somehow clings to the middle-rope with her hand, a white knuckle grip providing her safety. Calloway shakes his head and hooks her head and lifts her up for a brainbuster to the ring apron. The crowd shows their disdain for the move as Roberts is finally deposited to the ringside floor. Calloway sits up on the apron and shrugs nonchalantly at the feedback.
One…
Calloway thinks nothing of taunting the fans at ringside as he gets inside the ring.
Two…
Showing no signs of moving yet, Jessie cuts a broken figure on the ringside floor.
Three…
Four…
Jessie stirs and gets back to her feet slowly. Calloway rushes off the furthest ropes and baseball slides into a DDT that takes Jessie back down.
Nelson: Calloway sure is not showing any signs of slowing down anytime soon.
Crumb: He’s being pretty ruthless, barely letting Jessie get anything in.
Rose: That’s smart on his part. Otherwise, things could be in a different situation right now.
The cameras pick up Calloway as he gets to his feet. He mocks brushing the dirt off himself and splays out his hands in admiration for himself. Roberts is rolled back into the ring, Calloway steps onto the ring apron and takes one more opportunity to goad the baying crowd. He leaps onto the top rope and lands a springboard rolling knee drop to Jessie’s face. While it is only his debut match, the crowd has already passed their judgment on Darren Calloway and their feelings towards him.
Nelson: Okay, I think that Calloway is starting to cross the line a little bit here.
Crumb: He’s being ruthless and is showing no signs of slowing down anytime soon.
Rose: He’s got her right where he wants her.
Using the old adage that actions speak louder than words, he lifts up Roberts in a belly-to-back lift before throwing her over his shoulder into a facebuster! He goes for the cover…
One…
Two...kick out!
Nelson: It looks to me that Roberts still has some fight left in her after the onslaught from Calloway.
Crumb: I’m not going to lie, I’m pretty impressed with the way he’s going about things. He’s showing us all that he’s not here to play games.
Rose: A lot of others were the same way… and look at all went on with them.
Calloway lifts Roberts up to her feet and starts to club the back of her neck. Each blow dropping her slightly lower in her stance. He grabs her by the arms and lifts her up into a double-underhook shoulderbreaker. Jessie holds the back of her neck, the baseball slide DDT being the tip of the iceberg in Calloway’s offensive assault on her head and vertebrae. Calloway smells blood. He leans back into the ropes and almost knocks her head off with The Last Shot (running single leg front dropkick) before he goes for the cover.
One…
Two…
THR...ROBERTS HAS A FOOT ON THE ROPES!!!
Rose: She got lucky there!
Nelson: You say it that way and I say that it was tremendous ring awareness and so she has saved the match for herself.
Crumb: And it is starting to look a little bit like she’s desperate.
Calloway can’t believe it and so he bangs a fist in anger on the canvas. A furious look has befallen the face of Calloway, so certain was he that the match would be over. Roberts sits up and raises a fist, intensifying the chants in the crowd. Calloway grabs her by the hair to yank her up but she answers with a shot to the stomach. He tries again to bring her into the center of the ring but she throws another punch to his midsection and quickly follows up with another. The crowd roar with excitement, Roberts whips Calloway to the ropes...a clothesline takes down the debuting Icon.
Fresher than Jessie, Calloway is back to his feet but he eats a right jab, then another, then a final one. Jessie rears back and nails him with a big right hook that sends him to the mat. Startled, Darren gets back up but walks straight into a gorilla press slam.
Nelson: Well it does look to me that the tides have turned.
Leaning on the ropes, we can see that the move has taken it out of Jessie, the wear on her neck from Calloway’s offense paying off for him now. She looks down at him and debates a pin but instead elects to lean on the top rope for a few more moments to catch a breather.
Letting her opponent get back to his feet, Roberts charges and hits a forearm that sends Calloway back into the corner again. This time though she makes no mistake. She peppers his body with body shots before climbing onto the middle rope and letting loose with shots to the forehead. She jumps down and scoops up Calloway onto her shoulder, pivoting before hitting a running powerslam.
One…
Two…
TH...KICK OUT!!
Nelson: The tides of the match have turned pretty quickly with Roberts now in control, throwing all sorts of punches in an attempt to get Calloway down for the three.
Crumb: She’s giving her all but so did he and there’s no way in hell that she’s in the best shape right now.
Rose: Desperation… clear and present signs.
She drags him back to his feet and twists his arm into a standing armbar. She looks to the ropes and runs and jumps over the top-rope with a jumping rope-assisted armbreaker. Once more she holds her neck as she climbs the steps and gets into the ring. She grabs the arm of Calloway and starts to stomp on the elbow joint, hoping to take out some of his ability to hit the multitude of DDTs in his arsenal. She twists around the arm looking to hook in an armbar but Calloway grabs a handful of tights and rolls her up…
One…
Tw...kick out!
Nelson: Now that was a sneak attack!
Crumb: Both aren’t willing to give up the match to the other one.
Rose: Both are starting to look desperate.
Calloways reacts fastest and knees her in the stomach before hooking her in a front-facelock ready for a DDT variant but Roberts throws a flipper-like forearm to the jaw to break it up and then lifts him up with a front suplex before turning it into a facebuster right to her knee. She thinks about going for the cover but decides against it, instead pulling Calloway back to his feet as he is looking shellshocked. She lifts him up between her legs and delivers a sit-out powerbomb
One…
Two…
Thr…Roberts rolls off of Calloway, clutching at her neck.
Nelson: I think the match’s brutality is starting to show on Roberts.
Crumb: She broke the pin attempt on her own, clutching at her neck. I think she might actually be hurt.
Rose: One can only dream.
Buoyed by the crowd she picks herself back up and spins her finger around as if to signal The Hawkeye Pride again. She lifts him back up between her legs but Calloway hooks a hammerlock before hitting her with a spike hammerlock DDT.
Nelson: Savvy reversal by Calloway.
Crumb: His ring smarts sure are showing.
Both Icons are down, Roberts moves but only to cradle her neck. Calloway, however, is closer to the ropes, he climbs up them. First the bottom rope, then the middle, until he wraps his hand around the top rope and leans into it. He looks over at The Hawkeye Warrior and almost audibly assesses his options. Having caught his breath and thoughts back, Calloway sees Roberts slowly getting up and he charges towards her, hitting a double knee facebuster. He smiles into the hard camera as he grabs Roberts once more by the hair. He sets her up with a pumphandle lift before Roberts rolls over his back and hooks in Snap Crackle Pop (Fujiwara armbar).
Nelson: What a spectacular turn around. I am liking the way that this match is turning out.
Crumb: The question still remains on how much each of them has left in the tank. They’re both showing some serious battle scars.
Rose: I should’ve gone pee at the beginning of this crap show.
Calloway is in trouble in the middle of the ring as he tries to inch his way towards the ropes. But Jessie leaning with everything she has onto him, increasing the pressure on his arm. Calloway keeps trying to reach the ropes and despite Jessie’s best efforts, he is now within inches of said ropes, reaching out only to find he is millimeters from safety. Jessie glances at him over her should and with an audible grunt, she drags him back to the center of the ring and arches back more, her face showing the agony on her own body as Calloway’s face shows pained expressions.
Crumb: WHAT CAN EVERYONE…
Rose: SHUT THE HELL UP!
Calloway has no other choice but to tap out.
Torres: The winner of this match...Jessie Roberts!
Nelson: Both Icons have given this match their all and so Calloway shouldn’t be worried about getting a loss here tonight.
Crumb: Congrats to Jessie for getting the victory here tonight.
Rose: She got lucky… plain and simple. There’s nothing more left to it.
The scene opens to David Gideon Smith walking through the door to catering to find an empty room. Just the way he likes it. He steps past the table full of cold cuts and sandwich stuff to grab a bottle of water out of a chest full of ice. He slips over to one of the tables to sit, but just as his bottom touches the seat he hears the approach of others coming down the hall.
He sighs just as The BombTrax enter the room, Youth right in the middle of telling Press about something.
Flaming Youth: Yeah, so I told him that wasn’t exactly the kind of plug I was talking about when I asked for a stopper for the bathtub. F*cking Richard! Why the hell does he have a butt plug anyways?
Press, who didn’t seem that interested in the first place, holds up his hand to silence his partner while staring dead ahead at Smith. Youth looks a little put out by the sudden gesture, but follows his partners gaze to the only other man in the room. The three just stare at one another for a moment before the tag team makes their way towards the table.
At the same time that they arrive, making sure to keep a few chair lengths between themselves and Smith, Bobby Benson comes bebopping into the doorway. He pauses to assess the situation, as neither of the three have taken their eyes off of one another to acknowledge his existence.
Bobby Benson: Nope…
And with that, Benson exits the way he had came while Youth plops down into a seat across from Smith, throwing his boots up onto the table and flashing a warm smile.
Flaming Youth: Hey there DGS! Fancy seeing you here. You don’t mind if I call you DGS, do you? After all, it’s what the fans chant, am I right?
Youth winks in Smith’s direction while Press comes to stand behind his partner and cross his arms over his chest, looking hard down at the man.
Press: Is that what we are? Fans?
He asks the question deadpan, but Youth just waves him off with a scoff and continues to smile at David.
Flaming Youth: Sure we are! After all, he’s taking on Z tonight, and I for one can’t wait to see how that turns out. Although…
Youth leans in a bit, still making sure to keep an appropriate distance, before adding…
Flaming Youth: If you could do us a favor...mind the jawline. I mean, Krahe is going to be our future television champion after all. We can’t let anything happen to his best feature.
Youth leans back now, grinning like a lark. David neither says or does a thing for several moments, impassively studying the two of them. Presently he mirrors Youth, leaning back into his own seat and twisting the cap off his water.
DGS: Tell you what.
He takes a long, slow swig, eyeing the BombTrax over top of the bottle, and focuses in on Youth before lowering the bottle and continuing.
DGS: You two make yourselves scarce -- none of the, uh, theatrics you pulled last show…
At this point, Smith’s eyes conspicuously drift up to Press.
DGS: … and I’ll try to be gentle.
Press allows a smile to tug at the corner of his lips, but there is no warmth in it. He places a hand on Youth’s shoulder and gives it a pat as if to say, “Lets go.” Youth looks a little surprised by the action, searching his partners face for some reason for the reprieve. Press doesn’t give him any, so he tosses his feet off the table at the same time pushing onto them. As the two men make their way towards the door, he says as much.
Youth: Dude...we’re just walking away after being dismissed.
Press laughs, the words trailing down the hall.
Press: I’m sure he’ll say so, but don’t be fooled. He knows just as well as I do that the sharks have just come into contact and they are circling the same water...when the time comes…
The last is cut off as the two get farther down the hallway, leaving DGS to his bottle of water. David, for his part, merely watches them go, sipping water and eyeing the door long after they’ve disappeared through it.
~~
Check out the official Iconic Pro Wrestling channel
Torres: The following match is scheduled for ONE FALL with a TEN MINUTE time limit!
The lights go down as the low opening drone of "Razorface" rumbles through the arena. Random pulses and strobes of light flare across the Tron and throughout the rafters, eventually centralizing to the center of the Tron as a white pulse that grows brighter and faster in time with the sonar-beep. This builds to a crashing synthetic dirge, accompanied by orchestral strings, that signals the arrival of David Smith: he paces slowly out onto the stage, garbed in featureless black boots, tights, and kick/knee/elbow pads, a similarly featureless black duster swirling behind him.
Smith pauses at the top of the ramp, staring predatorily down at the ring. Then, after a moment, he starts down to the ring, not once breaking stride or acknowledging the crowd as he reaches the outside mats, ascends the steel steps, and enters through the ring ropes. He crosses the ring and goes up to the second turnbuckle, where he scans the crowd like a hawk before hopping down to the mat, removing and tossing the duster to the outside, and beginning to limber up.
Nelson: After a successful Iconic Professional Wrestling debut, David Gideon Smith has a certain aura about him.
Crumb: I think it’s confidence...
Rose: I think its cockiness.
The lights dim and a floodlight from the entrance kicks on brightly while smoke billows out onto the stage as 'Beat The Devil's Tattoo' by Black Rebel Motorcycle Club hits over the PA. The roaring crowd comes to their feet when a silhouette appears in the floodlight, and then steps out onto the stage wearing a black leather biker’s jacket, mussed hair, and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. A loud cheer goes up from the crowd for the returning superstar as he sends a plume of smoke up into the rafters just before taking his first step down the ramp.
You have forsaken all the love you've taken
Sleepin' on a razor there's nowhere left to fall
Your body's aching, every bone is breakin'
Nothin' seems to shake it, it just keeps holdin' on
Your soul is able, death is all you cradle
Sleepin' on the nails, there's nowhere left to fall
You have admired, what every man desires
Everyone is king when there's no one left to pawn
Sleepin' on a razor there's nowhere left to fall
Your body's aching, every bone is breakin'
Nothin' seems to shake it, it just keeps holdin' on
Your soul is able, death is all you cradle
Sleepin' on the nails, there's nowhere left to fall
You have admired, what every man desires
Everyone is king when there's no one left to pawn
Torres: And introducing his opponent, hailing from Hell, Michigan…weighing in at 245 pounds and standing at six foot three…he is THE CATALYST.. .ZACHARIAH KRAHHHHHHHEEEEE!
There is no peace here, war is never cheap dear
Love will never meet here, it just gets sold for parts
You cannot fight it, all the world denies it
Open up your eyelids, let your demons run
I thread the needle through, you beat the devil tattoo
I thread the needle through, you beat the devil's tattoo
I thread the needle through, you beat the devil tattoo
I thread the needle through, you beat the devil's tattoo
Love will never meet here, it just gets sold for parts
You cannot fight it, all the world denies it
Open up your eyelids, let your demons run
I thread the needle through, you beat the devil tattoo
I thread the needle through, you beat the devil's tattoo
I thread the needle through, you beat the devil tattoo
I thread the needle through, you beat the devil's tattoo
Krahe stops at the bottom of the ramp to regard the front row to his left, then his right, letting a plume of smoke escape his lips. Sniffing the air as if he could smell the electricity, his eyes narrow on his opponent, and he butts the cigarette out on the steel steps just before climbing them to slip through the ropes. He stalks over to the corner opposite The Captain where he flops back against the turnbuckles, shooting both opponents a whimsical grin.
Nelson: Krahe had a bit of a reputation before he even debuted when The Bombtrax demanded he is given an Iconic Professional Wrestling Television Championship shot.
Crumb: Out of his three matches, two of them have been wins and should he win here tonight, that would have to put him closer to the top of the list of contenders.
Rose: I just want someone to take the title away from Black. He’s been boring as a champion and does nothing but whine and put on false award shows that are “voted by the fans” when we all know he rigged it.
The referee looks at both Icons to make sure they are ready before calling for the bell, the match now officially underway.
DING DING DING!!!
---David Gideon Smith vs. Krahe---
DGS and Krahe both approach each other near the center of the ring, the two of them waiting for an opening to appear. When that doesn't immediately happen, Krahe steps forward and absolutely BLASTS DGS in the mouth with a hard elbow shot. He follows it up with a second and then a third, DGS stumbling from the impact and trying to keep himself on his feet. Krahe pulls DGS in and hits him with a forearm smash to knock him groggy. He then shoots DGS across the ring and waits for him to come back on the rebound---lifting him into the air and slamming him to the mat with a belly-to-belly suplex! DGS wisely creates some space before pulling himself back up to his feet, Krahe nonetheless watching him with a smirk on his face.
Nelson: This match has only just begun and already you can feel the tension between these two Icons.
Crumb: I don’t think DGS is used to going up against someone like Krahe in the ring. He’s clearly underestimated him.
Rose: Let me tell you something about him… he doesn’t stick around long. Maybe he’ll get it through his thick skull that he’s not wanted here.
DGS uses the ropes to pull himself back up to his feet, Krahe watching and preparing to strike once again. As soon as DGS is standing, Krahe charges. DGS gets a foot in the air and connects with Krahe’s jaw, sending him stumbling back for just a moment. Krahe recovers and decides that he's going to try again---only to have DGS kick him in the jaw a second time! This time, DGS flips out onto the apron and takes just a moment to steady himself. He then springboards into the ring and hits Krahe in the side of the head with a knee blast! Krahe falls to the mat. DGS quickly rolls him over and goes for the cover.
One...
Two...
TH...Krahe kicks out!
Nelson: Smith does not seem to be holding anything back. Those kicks rocked Krahe.
Crumb: That knee looked like it knocked Krahe cleanout. I was quite surprised that he managed to kick out of it.
Rose: He’s not superman you know… he’s just a man, not super at all.
Krahe tries to pull himself back up to his feet quickly. Unfortunately for him, DGS is just a step quicker. He bounces off of the ropes and hits Krahe with a running big boot that sends him crashing down to the mat! The fans are on their feet as DGS hooks the leg once again.
One...
Two...
T...Krahe manages to kick out again!
Nelson: Smith appears to be wanting to ultimately decimate Krahe here tonight.
Crumb: But we’ve seen it before where people have acted like this at the beginning but ended up losing the match.
Rose: He’s got his head so far up his butt that he doesn’t know what reality is.
Krahe once again tries to pull himself back up to his feet, albeit much more groggily this time around. DGS tries to take quick advantage of the opening that he's created for himself, grabbing hold of Krahe from behind. He tries to grab Krahe's arms to get him into position for a tiger suplex, but Krahe frees himself just in time. He spins DGS around and then blasts him in the mouth with a spinning backfist, the impact of the blow drawing blood! DGS tries to wipe the blood away and continue fighting, but Krahe knees him in the ribs. He follows it up with a second before slamming DGS down to the mat with a Northern Lights suplex! The referee drops down and counts.
One...
Two...
TH...KICK OUT!
Nelson: I had a feeling we had not seen the last of Krahe in this match. Though I am a bit surprised because he had gotten rocked a couple of times.
Crumb: DGS was caught way off guard there and it allowed Krahe to capitalize and turn the match around in his favor.
Rose: Is it too late now to pop out for a pee break?
DGS groggily tries to pull himself back up to his feet. Shaking his head, Krahe decides to bounce off of the ropes for some extra momentum of his own. Before he can do anything to DGS, DGS steps toward him and hits Krahe with a side kick to the ribs. The impact of the blow drops Krahe to his knees. He tries to pull himself back up to his feet, but DGS bounces off of the ropes and hits Krahe with a knee strike that sends him staggering. DGS grabs Krahe and pulls him in, trying to position him for a DDT! Krahe spins out of the attempt and instead pulls DGS in toward him, trying for a clothesline! DGS ducks it and rolls Krahe up.
One...
Two...
THRE...KICK OUT!
Nelson: Krahe really needs to start keeping his eye on Smith just a little bit more.
Crumb: I don’t think that Krahe was really ready for DGS. At least that’s what it looks like to me.
Rose: DGS isn’t a saint as much as BIRANNA basically makes him out to be.
The fans are on their feet, amazed at just how close the count was! Both Icons pull themselves back up to their feet. DGS bounces off of the ropes and tries to get ready for another strike. Unfortunately for him, Krahe steps forward and cuts him off, delivering a Busaiku knee kick! Krahe pulls DGS up, double underhooks his arms, and drops him with The Catalyst (double underhook DDT)! The fans gasp as Krahe covers DGS.
One...
Two...
THREE!!
Torres: The winner of this match...Krahe!!
Nelson: This was a hard-hitting, competitive match between two very talented Icons.
Rose: I could watch these two fight for a very long time! Well, mainly Krahe because damn does he look good.
Crumb: Agreed...
Torres: The following match is scheduled for ONE FALL with a TEN MINUTE time limit!
”Natural Born Killaz” By Ice Cube and Dr. Dre starts playing throughout the arena. Smoke comes from the entranceway. As the smoke is clearing The Enforcer walks through the smoke and looks out at the crowd. Enforcer than walks down to the ring. He walks up the stairs on to the ring apron, looks out at the crowd and lifts his arms out to the side. Enforcer steps through the top and middle ropes. Enforcer walks over to the opposite ring ropes and lifts his arms out to his side.
Nelson: I do not think that Enforcer has lost since coming here to Iconic Professional Wrestling and that leaves me wondering if he can be stopped?
Crumb: Everyone can be stopped. He just needs to go up against someone that isn’t going to give him the opening.
Rose: He’s nothing but a meathead who should be tested for drugs. There’s no way someone gets that big naturally.
The unmistakable sound of hastily generated 1980’s montage music can be heard as “You’re the Best Around” by Joe Esposito hits. Follow that with some sweet eighties laser beams shooting around the audience, you’ve got yourself a guy in his forties who just can’t seem to let go of his childhood.
Try to be best
‘Cause you're only a man
And a man's gotta learn to take it
Try to believe
Though the going gets rough
That you gotta hang tough to make it
‘Cause you're only a man
And a man's gotta learn to take it
Try to believe
Though the going gets rough
That you gotta hang tough to make it
He doesn’t really care what anyone thinks as he steps through the entrance out onto the stage. He stands before the crowd, trying to remember whether or not he turned the oven off before he makes his way down the ring ramp.
Try your best to win them all
And one day time will tell
When you're the one that's standing there
You'll reach the final bell!
You're the best!
Around!
And one day time will tell
When you're the one that's standing there
You'll reach the final bell!
You're the best!
Around!
Once Willie gets to the ring, he climbs the ring steps and casually enters the ring. Casually, like he’s going into the kitchen to make a sandwich, or going into the bathroom to take a sh*t. He’s so calm, it’s ridiculous. Once it’s clear that he’s one hundred percent prepared and making peace with the fact that he might kill someone, he crosses himself. Now he prepares himself for the upcoming fight.
Nelson: THE Willie Pete’s match ended in a draw last time and he has got to be wanting to get some vindication from that.
Crumb: Considering his first outing with us ended in victory, yeah that may probably well be the case.
Rose: The dude needs to go backstage and pull a brush through that mop of his.
The referee looks at both Icons to make sure they are ready for the upcoming match. He then calls for the bell, the match officially underway.
DING DING DING!!!
---Enforcer vs. THE Willie Pete---
Willie decides to get things started quickly, immediately running across the ring and hitting Enforcer in the mouth with a forearm smash. He follows it up with a second as Enforcer staggers into the ropes. Willie hits him with a chop to continue wearing him down. He then pulls Enforcer toward the middle of the ring and tries to set him up for a swinging neckbreaker. Enforcer blocks the attempt and shoves Willie away from him. Willie staggers just a step before recovering. He charges at Enforcer to keep his momentum alive, only to have Enforcer respond by lifting him into the air and delivering an inverted atomic drop! Willie tries to recover as Enforcer steps forward and hits Willie with a clothesline! He then hooks the leg and covers.
One...
Two...kick out!
Nelson: Pete started off quick, but when you give a talented Icon an opening, they usually know how to take advantage of it!
Rose: An opening this early in the match really doesn't mean all that much. Remember that.
Enforcer grabs Willie and begins to lift him back up to his feet. Enforcer pounds away on Willie's back to try and wear him down a bit, though Willie continues to show signs of fighting. Enforcer shakes his head and brings an end to that, lifting Willie off of the mat and then slamming him down with a body slam! Enforcer positions himself over Willie before leaping into the air and trying to land on Willie with an elbow drop! Willie rolls out of the way just in time, causing Enforcer to crash into the mat instead!
Both Icons start pulling themselves back up to their feet. Enforcer tries to charge at Willie once he's standing, but Willie appears to be ready for it as he leaps into the air and sends Enforcer crashing to the mat with a dropkick! Willie quickly closes the gap and locks in a front facelock to try and wear Enforcer down a bit more. Enforcer aggressively tries to fight his way out of Willie's grasp.
Nelson: Willie Pete is giving everything that he has towards this match. Given how it started out, he needs to do that.
Crumb: I think that Willie’s wily agility is going to be his advantage. Using that to the best of his ability will take the big man down.
Rose: The bigger they are, the harder they fall.
Enforcer finally succeeds in knocking Willie away. Willie stumbles for a moment as Enforcer grabs him and tries to shoot Willie across the ring. Willie reverses the attempt and waits for Enforcer to come back on the rebound. Willie then lifts Enforcer into the air, slamming him down with a flapjack! Before Enforcer can pull himself back up to his feet, Willie bounces off of the ropes and hits Enforcer with a running senton! He hooks the leg and covers.
One...
Two...Enforcer kicks out!
Nelson: Okay, I will not lie. I did not expect that the match would be going this way right now given the beginning.
Crumb: That just shows you that you can’t judge a match by how it begins.
Rose: You two are ridiculous sometimes.
Enforcer tries to crawl back up to his feet. Smirking, Willie looks at him. He waits until Enforcer is about halfway up before charging and trying a running dropkick! Enforcer ducks out of the way as Willie crashes into the mat instead! Enforcer grabs Willie from behind and locks him into a full nelson! He tries to start wearing Willie down---Willie doing what he can to break out of the hold! Just when it seems like he's about to free himself, Enforcer tries to lift Willie into the air for a full nelson slam! Willie then manages to free himself---instead hitting Enforcer with an enziguri! Enforcer falls to the mat. Willie calls for the fans to get loud as he grabs hold of Enforcer.
Nelson: I am liking the way Pete is keeping the momentum in his favor. He is quite the resourceful man against someone bigger than her.
Crumb: The question is if he can keep this going?
Rose: Pfft… he’s going to go down in a blaze of glory.
Willie gets Enforcer into position for ‘You’re Flying!’ (Golden Star Powerbomb), when suddenly, Jason Jacobs hops over the guard rail!
Crumb: WHAT CAN EVERYONE BE THINKING AS JASON JACOBS HAS JUMPED THE GUARDRAIL AND IS TRYING TO MAKE IT INTO THE RING?!?!
Rose: Probably, “Didn’t this guy lose to Blaise earlier tonight?! Man, did she whoop his butt!”
Security swarms Jacobs in an effort to keep her from getting into the ring. Willie briefly releases his hold on Enforcer and watches as he prepares for a fight that may or may not happen.
Nelson: Oh I do not have a very good feeling about this.
Crumb: You’re not the only one, Nelly.
Rose: Would you two just shush and pay attention to the match.
Security finally gets control of the situation and Willie turns his attention back to Enforcer. Enforcer delivers a kick to Willie's ribs and then drops him to the mat with his DeathPenbalty DDT! Enforcer then covers.
One...
Two...
THREE!!
Torres: The winner of this match...Enforcer!!!
Nelson: Jason Jacobs has cost Willie Pete the match with a well-timed distraction when we all thought the match was his.
Crumb: That was a brazen choice there by Jacobs and if I was Willie I’d go right after him.
Rose: Yawn… is it nap time?
#JoinTheMovement
Torres: The following contest is scheduled for ONE FALL with a TEN MINUTE time limit!
The lights in the auditorium switch off as "Ultraviolence" By Cliff Lin begins to play over the PA system, as soon as the rift kicks in, the spotlights goes around the audience and the stage lights illuminate as Chris Crippler steps out from behind the curtain.
He casually strolls down the aisle way, ignoring the fans ringside, stepping up the ring steps to the apron and walking along to the middle. He gazes out at the crowd in attendance with a look of disgust before stepping through the ropes, Chris walks over to the opposite side of the ring, adjusting his wrist tape as he presses his back against the turnbuckles. The referee checks him for foreign objects as the music fades away.
Nelson: Last show Chris Crippler was in our Main Event after chasing after our Television Champion, Oliver Black, ever since joining the company.
Rose: How’d that work out for him?
Nelson: Well..he..uh…lost.
Crumb: Now he’s looking to reset here and get back in the hunt for gold…
'Turn To Stone' by Joe Walsh fills the arena as the lights dim and a single spot light illuminates the stage. Out from the curtain steps Cross Recoba, a titanium cane with a golden lion's head handle in one hand, touching the crucifix with the other. The crowd responds with a chorus of boos for The Fox while Cross uses the handle of the cane to push his shag hair cut from his face, flicking his head back confidently as he grins out at the audience obnoxiously. He holds up the cane that has caused so much trouble in the past to an even more venomous response from the fans, and he begins down the ramp still holding it aloft.
Recoba reaches ringside and holds the lions head handle of the cane up to his lips and kisses it for luck. He sets the cane to rest against the ring steps, and then climbs them up onto the apron, and with a wipe of his feet slips between the ropes. He pops up with both hands out at his side, walking forward as if putting his glory on display, and delivers an over exaggerated bow that causes the fans to crow even louder in disdain. Cross stands to his full height and smirks, stepping over to the far corner just as Chris Crippler tears across the ring right for him!
Crumb: WHAT CAN EVERYONE BE THINKING AS CHRIS CRIPPLER RUSHES ACROSS THE RING TO TRY AND.. What? RECOBA GOT OUT OF THE WAY!
Crumb: Crippler tried this same tactic against Silver Kazama at New Year, Who Dis? Two with great success, but it didn’t work against The Fox!
Rose: I guess you could say...he got outfoxed by The Fox!
Rose Marie seems proud of herself as the other two stooges roll their eyes. Meanwhile, in the ring, Chris Crippler ate a face full of turnbuckle for his efforts, and as he spins around he’s met with a chest shattering knife edge chop from Recoba that knocks him right back into the corner. The fan’s ooooo as the referee quickly calls for the bell to officially start this match up.
DING DING DING!!!
---Chris Crippler vs. Cross Recoba---
Nelson: Recoba is lighting Crippler up with those chops and his chest is already starting to turn beet red!
Rose: Yeah, those will certainly wake you up in the morning.
Crumb: Jeez! I don’t know what kind of morning you’re having if that’s your alarm clock!
Chris takes another of the nasty chops and then gives Recoba a shove backwards to pull himself out of the corner clutching at his chest. Recoba zeroes in on Crippler as he passes, and just when the man turns around rushes him with a knee lift that sends him stumbling away to fall against the middle rope’s chest first. Cross wastes little time moving right in and draping his knee across the back of Crippler’s throat while pulling up, essentially choking him for all he’s worth.
Crumb: The referee is all over Recoba who is blatantly choking his opponent, and finally breaks at the count of four and a half…
Rose: Something tells me that Chris Crippler would be doing the same thing to Recoba if he had been given the opportunity…
Nelson: You are probably right, Rose Marie, but it does not matter whose doing it…it is not sportsmanlike.
Crippler gets to his feet as Cross slips around the referee’s warning and goes to get a hold, when Chris grabs Recoba by the waistband and then yanks him forwards so that he flies right through the middle and top rope to crash land on the concrete floor. The referee looks shocked and turns his warnings to Crippler who blows him off and follows Cross outside.
Nelson: Chris Crippler has taken this match into No Man’s Land, and now as Recoba gets to his feet…HE SEND HIM ABDOMEN FIRST INTO THE GUARD RAIL!
Crumb: Recoba clutching at his gut, and Crippler comes in from the side to get a good hand hold on that shag haircut…AND JAMS HIM FOREHEAD FIRST DOWN ACROSS THE STEEL!
Rose: Recoba looks punch drunk as he stumbles his way back over to the ring, and now Crippler tosses him back inside to break the referee’s count…
Cross tries to sit up but Chris is already there with a stiff boot to his face that sends him snapping back down to the mat. From there, Crippler drops an elbow followed by another, and instead of going for a third, places his boot at the top of Recoba’s forehead, and snaps down to stretch the skin painfully. Cross kicks as he clutches at his face and rolls around the ring, while Crippler grins in the admonishing referee’s face.
Nelson: I have a feeling that the referee is going to have his hands full with these two for the rest of the contest.
Crumb: No doubt about it. They both like to take short cuts.
Rose: You guys are just being overly critical! These are two men that understand how to play the game!
Cross finally makes it back to his feet next to the ropes, and Crippler takes him by the wrist and shoots him off to the other side. As Recoba comes bounding back he’s met in the center of the ring by a Lous Thesz press by Chris, followed by mounted punches right to his face. Once Crippler is done, he pops up and takes the momentary lull in action to talk smack to the crowd who boo him for all he’s worth.
Crumb: He certainly isn’t scoring any brownie points here in Santa Monica…
Nelson: No, and he is giving Cross Recoba ample time to recover to boot. This is just not smart…
Rose: Listen at you two! This man has complete control of the situation and is exercising his right to free speech…oh…there was an eye rake!
Chris Crippler stumbles away momentarily blinded as Cross Recoba works his way back to his feet. The Fox doesn’t look pleased as he waits for Chris to pause by the ropes and then barrels in with a stiff spinning back kick that sends Crippler right up and over the top rope! Recoba watches carefully from the ring as Chris tries to regain his feet, and just before he’s upright he sets into motion, rushing the opposite ropes for spring and then leaping clear over the top rope to deliver a missile drop kick that finds it’s mark.
Crumb: WHAT CAN EVERYONE BE THINKING AS CROSS RECOBA NAILS CHRIS CRIPPLER WITH HIS MILLION LIRA!
Rose: Probably, “That guy can get a lot of flight time for a Fox.”
Nelson: Yes and he is already back to his feet and pulling Crippler along with him!
Recoba tosses Crippler back in the ring but maintains control of his head, keeping his upper body halfway under the bottom rope. He takes a few steps back before rushing forwards and delivering a soccer kick right to the mans exposed face, causing him to clutch at his nose and roll back to the inside. Recoba gives a Cheshire like grin before leaping to the apron to grip the top rope. As Crippler gets back to his feet, The Fox leaps up and springboards off the top, spinning into a back elbow that sends Chris crashing to the mat. He quickly follows up with a hook of the leg.
One…
Two…
THR...KICK OUT!
Nelson: Crippler kicks out just before the three, and Recoba is jawing with the referee now…I think the count was fine, to be honest.
Rose: Shows what you know! That was obviously slow or he wouldn’t be complaining.
Crumb: Something tells me that this guy would complain no matter what happened out here…
Recoba dismisses the referee with a wave of his hand and commences to getting Crippler back to his feet only to lay in a thunderous chop that knocks him back towards the corner. He winds up for another, but upon letting fly he’s surprised when Chris ducks under to slip behind him and hooks him with a waist lock. Cross tries to grab for the ropes, but not quick enough, as Crippler takes him up and over with a German suplex that sees him land square on the back of his neck and shoulders. Crippler retains the bridge for a pin.
One…
Two…
THR...KICK OUT!
Nelson: Cross falls away and comes to his feet as Crippler rises…rushes at him…OH MY GOODNESS!
Crumb: OVERHEAD BELLY TO BELLY BUT THEY WERE TOO CLOSE TO THE CORNER!
Rose: CROSS RECOBA JUST SMASHED SPINE FIRST INTO THE TOP AND THEN UNCEREMONIOUSLY DROPPED ONTO THE TOP OF HIS HEAD!
Nelson: I am telling you right now…the man might have a broken neck!
Chris Crippler stumbles over, still a little woozy thanks to Recoba’s offense, but manages to grab him by the wrist and drag him out of the corner for a cover.
One…
Two…
THRE...KICK OUT!
Nelson: Recoba gets the shoulder up within a hair of a three count, and Chris Crippler is looking a little frustrated here.
Rose: I would be too if I dropped a guy on his neck, not once but twice, and he still managed a kick out!
Crumb: Well, he’s calling for the end here as he pulls Recoba up and hooks him around the head for what we know will be a Crippler DDT!
Recoba, having great veteran instincts, knows he’s in trouble when he’s pulled into this position by Chris and immediately starts pushing and fighting to get out of his grasp. With a shove backwards Crippler slams into the referee who takes a tumble to the mat, and when Chris turns to see what just happened, it’s all the distraction Recoba needs before launching his fist right into the man’s nether regions.
Crumb: WHAT CAN EVERYONE BE THINKING AS CROSS RECOBA JUST LOW BLOWED CHRIS CRIPPLER?!?!
Rose: Probably, “Chris Crippler’s little man just got crippled.”
Nelson: Be that as it may…Crippler is stumbling around grabbing at his crotch as the referee tries to reorient himself…Recoba with a scoop up onto his shoulder in the crucifix position…AND SPINS THROUGH INTO A NECKBREAKER!!
Recoba smirks at the camera, and as he drapes himself across Chris Crippler and he points right at the camera to say, "This is for you Aaron Kostan." The referee looks over and sees the pin, and ambles his way on hands and knees to make the count.
One...
Two...
THREE!!
Crumb: I can't believe that Cross Recoba put Chris Crippler away like that, and what about that call out to Mr. IPW!
Nelson: I think that Cross Recoba has been nipping at Kostan's heels since he made his debut and was using Drake Jones as a stepping stone to get it.
Rose: I'm just disappointed we didn't get to see Up All Night In Dakota.
Torres: And the winner of this match by pinfall, CROSS RECOBAAAA!!
Recoba allows the referee to lift his arm in victory, and then shove the official back, yanking Chris Crippler back up to his feet only to scoop him up on his shoulder and drop him back on his head with a jumping spinning tombstone piledriver!
Rose: I SPOKE TOO SOON! UP ALL NIGHT IN DAKOTA!
Nelson: That is not right! This match is officially over and there was no need for that!
Rose: There's always a need, Patticake! It just doesn't line up with your sensibilities!
Cross steps over the laid out Crippler to grab the cameraman on the apron and pulls the lens right into his face.
Cross Recoba: Now that was a work of art, Kostan! Keep ducking me and you're going to feel it real soon...
With that he releases the cameraman and demands that his hand be raised by the referee one more time, who complies out of fear. The fans shower The Fox with boos and he seems to genuinely eat it all up.
Crumb: A very confident Recoba with more words for Aaron Kostan, and one has to wonder how 'The Artist' will respond.
Nelson: That's going to have to be decided at a future date, because right now we have to pay the bills.
Rose: What my holier-than-thou partner is trying to say, is we'll be back in just a few minutes after these words from our sponsors.
Torres: The following match is scheduled for ONE FALL with a TEN MINUTE time limit!
The sound of wailing sirens prelude the crack and whip of Nickelback’s opening chord, live coverage of the backstage area is displayed on the titantron; the hall is barely breathing with life as there are only a few stage handlers present; before too long a Herculean figure explodes from the men's locker room just off to the right. He storms the hall with fire in his eyes. During his expedition toward the stage entrance, he snatches a water bottle from the grip of a 'Make a Wish' child and impolitely shoves a member of the stage crew to the floor to his own appeasement. the fans however, aren't shy about letting him know how they feel, as they're showering him with jeers. When he's finally met the stage entrance, he decapitates the swiped water bottle, pouring most of it over his head prior to in-taking some of its refreshing taste and tossing it aside.
Cerberus slices through the curtain to a wave of jeers that he just rides all the way down the ramp. There's a crooked grin of self-assurance on his face that matches the mischief of his raised left brow as he breezes by those at ringside. He pauses approximately three feet from the ring, glaring from one side of the arena to the pupil frying lights high above to the other side of the compound. He measures his target, then without any given warning rockets onto the apron showcasing the strength and balance in his legs. The big man slithers into the ring approaching the far east side of the ring where the cameras are usually stationed, playing up to them by shouting expletives to the audience just to garner a reaction out of them from atop of the turnbuckle.
Nelson: Cerberus is looking to add a win here tonight coming off a tag team loss at Chaos “Love Hurts Two”.
Rose: Emphasis on tag team, Patticake.
Pyros hit as Videos of bustling crowds in various locations of New Orleans appear on the tron as "Bad Religion" by Godsmack blasts on the P.A. system. Tanja comes out onto the top of the ramp in a style compared to Gail Kim during her early time in TNA before heading down the ramp with some of her black leather coat flows at her feet while the mix of boos and jeers and cheers from the crowd fills the arena. She slaps hands with a few fans at ringside before she reaches the bottom of the ramp.
Tanja walk up towards the ring and enters via under the bottom rope and jumps onto the middle turnbuckle. She poses as she does her usual taunt with a hand and arm in the air as "Bad Religion" continues to play. Tanja steps off the turnbuckle as she removes the leather coat and throws it into a random corner.
Crumb: Tanja is looking to rebound from her lost at Chaos “Love Hurts Two” as well.
Nelson: She definitely is, Crumb. Since losing to Oliver Black weeks ago, Devereaux has been in a slump.
Rose: Slump, huh? She’s got basically one foot out the door….
DING DING DING!!!
---Cerberus vs. “The Cajun Queen” Tanja Devereaux---
The two Icons walk towards each other. They meet in the middle, Cerberus towering as a behemoth over the much smaller Voodoo Queen.
Nelson: Tanja Devereaux is coming off a loss to Astrid and seemed to suggest she is not done with her.
Crumb: She should be focused here. Cereberus is no Astrid. Just look at the size difference!
Rose: It’s ASStrid, Crumbbum. Remember to stress the ‘s’.
Cerberus steps forward, pushing his opponent backwards. As he looks to take another step, Devereux stops him with an open handed slap to the face, a backhanded chop to the chest, and a spinning back kick to the gut. The lightning combo drop the big man to one knee, but not for long as he’s back up to catch Tanja’s leg as she goes for a roundhouse. He drops it, grabs her in in a bearhug, and throws her over his head like a rag doll with an overhead belly to belly suplex!
Nelson: The power of Cerberus is coming in to play early in this one.
Rose: You say that as if no one expected that.
Tanja is flung across the ring, and the momentum sends her tumbling into the corner. She winces in pain, but has little time to react before she’s being yanked to her feet by Cerberus. He lowers his shoulder and rams it into her midsection once, twice, three times before the referee calls him off. He backs off, but only briefly. He pulls his opponent from the corner, and she comes out swinging. She lands a swinging left hand, a right hand, backing up the action to the middle of the canvas.
Crumb: The fire of The Bayou Witch now coming into play.
Rose: We needed more of that fire last Chaos.
She goes for a spinning back elbow, but the Hell Hound catches it, wraps his arm around, and quickly ties Devereux up in an abdominal stretch. He wrenches back as the official asks Tanja if she wants to give up. Her answer is an emphatic no, almost like a war cry as she drops down to try to leverage a hip toss. Cebrerus, however, is too big. He refuses to budge, and pulls her back up into the abdominal stretch.
Nelson: I hate to say it, but this could be over quick. The power and size of Cerberus may prove too big an obstacle to overcome.
He wrenches it back again, but the Cajun Queen is still defiant as the official asks her if she wants to tap. The two are square in the center of the ring, and the situation looks bleak for the smaller Tanja Devereaux, but as Cerberus wrenches the hold back again the grimace of pain on her face turns to one of sheer determination. A low cry, practically a growl, escapes from the very depths of her chest shocking her opponent and the official, who jumps back. She drops down again, this time leveraging a perfect hip toss, slinging the big man to the mat in front of her. It doesn’t hurt him too much, but the bicycle kick that pops the side of his head lays him out.
Rose: I have to know, does the bicycle motion actually make that kick any more powerful?
Crumb: Maybe you could ask Cerberus when he wakes up?
The embattled woman from New Orleans falls to a knee, the camera zooming in on the smirk appearing on her face. She finally moves to flip the big man over with great effort and lays across him for the cover.
One…
T…kick out!
Nelson: Devereaux wisely not wasting a second after that two count. She is going to have to keep Cerberus down if she has any hope in pulling this off.
Tanja knows not to wait, and quickly pounces on Cerberus as he rolls back over onto his stomach. She forces his left arm over one knee, the right over her other, and traps him in a camel clutch. She puts all of the weight she can on his lower back, and wrenches back as far as possible. The pain is written on The Hired Gun’s face, but the only sound he mutters is ‘hell no!’ when the official asks what he was asking Devereaux only a couple of minutes before.
Crumb: How the tables have turned!
Rose: Give the big guy time. That 115 pounds isn’t going to keep him down for long.
Cerberus reaches desperately for the ropes and Tanja leans back further, increasing the torque on her opponent’s spine. It’s a hair’s width out of reach, and Tanja is giving him no ground. Realizing he needs to rely on alternate tactics, The Hell Hound begins to pull his legs forward. It takes a moment, but his power advantage gives him the edge, and he finally gets his feet under him. Devereaux refuses to let go, and transitions as Cerberus pulls himself to his feet. He’s not vertical long as she throws her body weight backwards and pulls him to the mat with a crucifix pin.
One…
Two…
T...KICK OUT!
Nelson: That is two pin attempts for Devereaux to Cereberus’ zero.
Rose: The number of attempts mean nothing if they don’t end in three.
Crumb: That’s like saying the only passes that matter in football are the ones that end in touchdowns, Rose.
Nelson: He has a point.
Rose: Shut up!
The opponents roll away from each other, and Cerberus is fast to a knee, but that proves to his opponent’s favor. Tanja launches herself forward, bounds off his knee, and slams him in the face with a modified shining wizard! He topples backwards, and she goes with him, catching herself at the last minute on the top ropes in the corner. Looking back down towards her opponent, she climbs to the top turnbuckle.
Nelson: The Witch finally seems to realize she is going to have to throw her whole body weight at The Hell Hound to keep him down.
Rose: Hell Hounds, Witches, you’d think it’s Halloween here on Chaos!
Crumb: I think you mean Helloween.
Rose: What?
Crumb: That’s the name of the show in Oct-...nevermind.
By the time she gets there, her target has moved, as Cerberus has rolled from the ring and now rests against the security barrier at ringside. She launches herself towards her opponent, but he manages to catch her as she attempts a tornado DDT. Off balance, he practically falls forward, but manages to hold himself upright long enough to slam Devereaux spine first into the steel post. Both competitors collapse as the official begins his count.
One…
Two…
Tanja is still clutching at her back, Cerberus is leaned against the barrier blinking rapidly, still trying to clear the cobwebs.
Three…
Four…
Devereaux is up against the apron now, and slowly rolls herself in.
Five…
Six…
The big man throws a hand up to grab the bottom rope, and uses it to maneuver himself back inside. There he uses the ropes again to get vertical. The Witch of the Bayou is on him fast with shoot kicks to his legs, as if trying to chop down a great sycamore. Cerberus, however, has clearly had enough. As his opponent closes in for another kick, he sends her stumbling back with a massive headbutt. He charges forward without a second’s break and runs right through Devereux with a shoulder tackle. He’s off the ropes this time as she gets up, and goes right back down as another shoulder tackle sends her flying. Cerberus chases her down and covers.
One…
Two…
THRE...KICK OUT!
Crumb: I’d say nobody wins with a headbutt, but Cerberus just pulled momentum back to his side with that one.
The Hell Hounds stalks his prey as, woozily, Tanja stands back up. He pulls her up to his shoulder and drops her face first into the top turnbuckle. He looks to follow it up with a big boot, but The Witch is crafty and somehow aware enough to sidestep it. She has to jump up to grab her opponent’s head, but that sends both of them to the mat with that much more momentum. The neck breaker leaves them both grabbing at the base of their skulls.
Rose: No one won with that one for sure.
Crumb: I wouldn’t be so quick to say that. The door is open again for Devereaux!
Nelson: That it is. It all depends now on who can get back up first.
The official frantically watches back and forth between the two icons as each rolls to the ropes and begins to work their way back up. Cerberus is the first back up, but Devereaux is close behind. The two charge towards each other once they realize this. Tanja ducks a clothesline, and the two hit the ropes again. On the rebound, Devereaux drops around behind him and gets a roll up.
One…kick out!
They’re both up fast, but the more agile Devereaux wraps her arm around The Hell Hound’s head before he can roll all the way up. Before he can react he’s swung around and planted face first into the mat with the Bourbon Street (swinging reverse STO)!
Crumb: Cover him before its too late!
One…
Two…
Three!
Nelson: Cerberus’ power game dominated a solid portion of the match, but the agility of The Cajun Queen saves her at the end!
Rose: If only ASStrid were fatter, then we would have been singing Tanja’s praises at Love Hurts too.
The official raises Tanja’s hand in the air as Cerberus backs up into the corner with a look of pure, hellish hatred twisting his face.
Torres: The winner of this match...Tanja Devereaux!
She feels the canvas rock beneath her feet, and slides out of the ring as Cerberus comes roaring out of the corner. With a wicked smile on her face, Devereaux backs up the ramp waving defiantly towards her opponent.
We cut once more to the back. The cameras pick up Cross Recoba, now back in the same suit he arrived in earlier in the night. A group of children spot him and run over, their phones already out ready for a selfie.
Child: Cross! Give us a pic!
The high-pitched demand causes The Fox to spin round to see the source of the noise, his kit bag nearly clotheslines a kid as they further encroach on his space.
Child #2: This’ll be amazing for my TikTok!
Cross simply raises an eyebrow. He starts to smile until he spots something to his distaste that immediately sours his demeanour.
Recoba: Is that...Kostan’s tee?
The child nods and splays out the front of the overly large shirt to show off the Mr IPW logo that is emblazoned across it. Cross immediately shuts down the video.
Recoba: Listen, I’ll try and keep this nice and brief given that you’re most likely out past curfew - did any of you see what happened to the last t-shirt that looked like that?
Cross whips out another lighter and twirls it casually between his fingers. The children nod, solemnly.
Recoba: Get out of here or I’ll report the lot of you to the CPS!
The children scamper away, one of them calls Recoba ‘a pussy’ or words to that effect. The camera tracks along with Cross as he walks outside. We hear a car running but as the shot pans around we see that leaning on the yet to depart vehicle is Mr. IPW himself.
Kostan: Want to explain what you hoped to achieve earlier with that little display of yours? Pardon the pun but - do you really want to play with fire?
Recoba: I’ll be honest with you - right now, I have far more important places to be and people to see than you. I’ve put out my offer, why not meet me at the next show and we’ll sign the contract and make it official - give you some much-needed exposure in the process?
Aaron gives a somewhat stifled snicker.
Kostan: You really want to get back into the ring with me? Tell me, who are you going to blame when I beat you…
The Artist leans in closer to the man before him.
Kostan: ...AGAIN!?
Cross sees red and lands a straight right hand to the jaw of The Artist. Aaron rubs his jawline with an open hand in a bit of shock, before returning Recoba’s hate filled gaze. Cross goes in for another right, but Kostan fires back with a right hand of his own before shooting in and landing a single-leg takedown on Recoba. Kostan starts to rain down a flurry of punches to the face of The Fox but he’s interrupted by a cheap rake of the eyes.
Recoba scrambles to his feet and hastily boots Kostan in the midsection to double him over. He grabs The Artist and throws him in front of the running car before jumping into the backseat. Kostan picks himself up and sees the danger he is in as the car heads towards him, a brief flash of panic falls upon his face but he manages to rid himself of the fear as he dives out of the way leaving the car to screech its tires around the corner and give Cross an exit.
~~
Torres: The following match is scheduled for ONE FALL with a FIFTEEN MINUTE time limit!
The opening line of "Bad Motherf*cker" By Machine Gun Kelly slams out through the speakers as Drake Jones steps out from the back, his ginger hair wet as he makes his way down to the ring talking trash as he looks around the ringside area. He slides up onto the ring apron and leans against the top rope before throwing his leg back and stepping into the ring.
Nelson: I would say something about Drake Jones, but what is there to say that has not been already said.
Crumb: I know exactly how you feel. I mean, he did win his last match but let's face it, it was cause he was in a tag team match.
Rose: Well this week his opponent is his partner from last time. His chances are slim.
The calming guitar intro to "Rust" begins to play over the speakers as cool blue spotlights scatter throughout the arena before unifying at the top of the stage. There, Aaron Kostan steps into the halo of blue light, hair pulled back in a tight bun, a smile on his face, and his arms stretched out wide. He takes a deep breath, drinking in the crowd's cheers. For a moment, "The Artist's" eyes close and his lips move in silent prayer as he looks heavenward. With one more deep breath he begins to walk to the ring, doling out high fives and handshakes with the IPW faithful. The spotlight follows him to the steps where he calmly walks up, taps the ring post and strolls across the ring apron. With a final scan of the crowd he ducks between the top and middle ropes to enter the ring.
Nelson: Aaron Kostan has been known to win and has shown a number of Icons just exactly who he is.
Crumb: He’s held championship gold two times in our brief existence, having two firsts to his name. It’s only a matter of time until he’s got a belt around his waist again.
Rose: Meh… y’all really need to stop sucking up to a guy who’s not much better than Drake Jones.
The referee looks at both Icons to make sure they are ready before calling for the bell, the match now officially underway.
DING DING DING!!!
---Drake Jones vs. "The Artist" Aaron Kostan---
Aaron and Drake both begin to circle around the ring, waiting for an opening to appear. When it doesn't happen, the two grapple up in the center of the ring. Drake immediately uses the close positioning to his advantage, blasting Aaron in the face with a forearm smash. He follows it up with a second and then a third. Drake backs Aaron up against the ropes and fires off a few chops to try and wear him down.
Crowd: WOOO! WOOO!
Drake then shoots Aaron across the ring. Drake steps toward the middle of the ring to meet Aaron on the rebound. Aaron tries to use this fact to his advantage, going for a handspring back elbow! Drake steps out of the way just in time and Aaron hits the mat instead. Aaron pulls himself back up to his feet. Drake hurries toward him and lifts Aaron into the air for an inverted atomic drop!
Nelson: A nice start to this match for Drake Jones, who seems like he would like to take a very aggressive approach here!
Crumb: That's when the man is at his best!
Rose: I respect this decision!
Aaron Kostan recovers from the inverted atomic drop as Drake Jones leaps into the air and hits Aaron with a dropkick! Aaron crashes hard to the mat but wisely rolls over to the ropes and uses them to pull himself back up to his feet. Drake Jones tries to close the gap between the two. Aaron steps forward from the ropes and hits Drake in the mouth with an elbow shot. He follows it up with a second as Drake continues to stumble back. Aaron tries to use this opening to his advantage, charging forward at Drake. Drake responds by lifting Aaron into the air. He goes to slam him to the mat, but Aaron catches him by surprise with a headscissors takedown! Drake tries to pull himself back up to his feet, but Aaron runs at him and delivers a running dropkick!
Nelson: Well it looks to me as though Kostan is not going to be taking any of Jones’ shenanigans.
Crumb: Does anybody really? Drake really just digs his own grave with his comments.
Rose: And he’s never able to back them up and people just make a fool out of him.
Aaron tries to go for the cover, but Drake rolls over toward the nearest corner and uses it to pull himself back up to his feet. Aaron Kostan waits until Drake is standing before charging at him in the corner. Drake sees it coming and steps forward, lifting Aaron into the air and dropping him down onto the turnbuckle padding! He drops down and hooks the leg.
One...
Two...
TH...KICK OUT!
Nelson: OOH! Kostan’s head bounced off that turnbuckle so much I think he has whiplash.
Crumb: I think we need to take back out previous statements about Drake Jones.
Rose: I refuse to do that.
Aaron Kostan slowly tries to pull himself back up to his feet. Drake Jones glares at him angrily. He waits until Aaron is standing before stepping forward and trying to kick his head off with a superkick! Aaron ducks underneath the kick and in one smooth motion, sweeps Drake's leg out from underneath him! Drake crashes hard to the mat and Aaron leaps into the air, landing on Drake with a standing shooting star press! The fans cheer as Aaron hooks the leg.
One...
Two...
TH...KICK OUT!
Nelson: Whenever Aaron Kostan shows off his athleticism, you cannot help but be impressed!
Crumb: There’s a reason why he’s Mr. IPW.
Rose: I was appreciating the aggression from Drake, but I guess we just saw the main downside to it!
Drake drags himself back up to his feet with the help of the ropes. Aaron closes the gap, firing off a few quick kicks into Drake's ribs to try and wear him down. Drake decides to fight back aggressively, hitting Aaron in the mouth with an European uppercut! Aaron stumbles back and nearly loses his footing. Aaron recovers and tries to charge at Drake, only to have Drake lift him into the air for a back body drop! Aaron lands on his feet behind Drake and waits for him to turn around. As soon as Drake does so, Aaron charges at him and sends Drake crashing to the mat with a sling blade!
Nelson: If there was one thing that Kostan has always been good at it is capitalizing on even the smallest of opportunities. Closing that gap could possibly have saved the match for him.
Crumb: If Drake wants any hope of winning, he better think of something to do and fast.
Rose: Fat chance at that happening.
Drake tries to pull himself back up to his feet, though he's much groggier than he'd probably like to be. Aaron takes advantage of this by closing the gap and sending Drake right back down with a Finale (Argentine DDT)!
Crumb: WHAT CAN DRAKE JONES BE THINKING AS AARON KOSTAN DROPS HIM WITH HIS FINALE?!?!
Aaron then hooks the leg and goes for the cover.
One...
Two...
THREE!!
Torres: The winner of this match...Aaron Kostan!!!
Nelson: A very well deserved victory here for Aaron Kostan. Congratulations, sir.
Crumb: It was a little hazy there for a bit on whether or not he was going win but I’m glad Mr. IPW was able to pull it out in the end.
Rose: I’d rather him win than the other… whatshisface.
The fans are in a lull thinking they’re about to head into another match when all of the sudden “American Woman” by Lenny Kravitz pierces the peace and the boos instantly start coming down from all over.
Nelson: No way…
Crumb: It can’t be?!
Rose: I guess now we know why she’s here tonight and it’s not to sit in the back and watch the show.
It doesn’t take long from the beginning of the song before Brooklyn Holloway emerges from behind the black curtain with a microphone in hand and a wide smile upon her face. The fans aren’t too pleased and let her know that by surrounding her in a sea of boos. But that doesn’t seem to phase her as she keeps on strutting down towards the ring like it was the catwalk at New York Fashion Week. The sound of her Louboutins is audible as she walks up the steel and enters the ring by stepping between the bottom and middle ropes whilst holding the back of her skirt. Lord knows we don’t need a wardrobe malfunction. Brooklyn makes her way to the center of the ring, the boos not seeming to fade out as her music does and she brings the microphone up to her lips.
Brooklyn: Now, now… there’s no need for all this hostility. I would think that you’d all be very happy to see me considering that oh, ten-ish or so months I single handily led the purge of Joshua Samson, Esquire from this company. He was leading IPW down a path that we wouldn’t have been able to come back from. And it’s because of me that we have had an influx of new faces here. You all know that Joshua Samson would’ve chased away top-quality talent because he’s that much of an a-hole.
Crumb: I really, really dislike this woman.
Rose: As much as I like Mr. Samson, you have to think that what Mrs. Holloway said is true.
Brooklyn pauses for a moment to brush a section of her hair out of her face.
Brooklyn: I bet every single one of you pea brains are probably asking yourselves, why is she back? Why now? How long is she going to make our ears bled with her yammering? Well… I’m back… and I’m back for good. I thought that I could just sit at home in Las Vegas, letting the amount in my bank account grow without doing anything. And it was working… but then certain people started bitching and moaning like a silly little child. Thus, I decided to waltz my fine behind back in here and put a stop to all that bullsh*t… and I won’t be going anywhere anytime soon. I guess you can consider this my IPW State of the Union address… and I have a variety of topics to talk about.
The booing gets louder for a few moments as Brooklyn just stands there, visibly unimpressed.
Brooklyn: Now to my first order of business. At the end of last month, I released a series of tweets in regards to one Biranna Rissi. I’m sorry… Brianna Rissi. I decided to acknowledge the hashtag created by the fool Oliver Black and gave her a chance by booking her in our main event tonight for the IPW Television Championship. And what does this little witch go and do? She starts acting like an ungrateful cow. And I was serious when I said if she fails to show up or purposely underperforms, she will get no more chances for the rest of her tenure here in IPW… no more title shots and the bare minimum main events. Those are reserved for people who actually give a damn about their spots on this roster. But if what she wants is to be released, or “expelled” as she went and called it, then I’m willing to release her. She’s overpaid anyway.
Crowd: GIVE BRIANNA A CHANCE! GIVE BRIANNA A CHANCE!
Crumb: WHAT CAN EVERYONE BE THINKING AS BROOKLYN HOLLOWAY HAS GIVEN BRIANNA RISSI THE ULTIMATE ULTIMATUM?!?!
Brooklyn slowly starts to walk around the ring in a small circle, taking a few steps as she thinks about her next comments.
Brooklyn: I know that a lot of people have been talking about the state of the IPW Heavyweight Championship after the second attack by The Boobtax… I’m sorry again, The Bombtrax… on Mike Mason. Well, I regrettably have to inform you that Mike Mason has been granted his release due to injuries that he sustained in those multiple attacks. So the IPW Heavyweight Championship has thus been vacated. To crown a new champion, a tournament will be held and hopefully, someone who’s worth a damn will claim our greatest prize. Our last three champions were utter disgraces and thankfully, no longer with our amazing company. So keep an eye out for forthcoming details about that tournament because everything is TBD at the moment.
Nelson: That is major news!
Rose: It’s about time we’re told something about the state of the Heavyweight Championship.
The twisted smile of Brooklyn shows no signs of fading away as she stands tall and proud in the center of the ring.
Brooklyn: Another idea I had been toiling is taking this show on the road. No offense or anything, but Santa Monica is boring and there’s nothing more for it to offer Iconic Pro Wrestling. We’ve grown too big for this tiny, tiny arena and so we’ll be testing it to see if it’s a good business decision by doing a series of three shows. We will be visiting Anaheim, California for a show at Disneyland and Disney’s California Adventure for “IPW Does Disney”. I know it’s not too far away, but apparently this idea was already in the books when Samson was still around as a way to appease that silly little wife of his.
Crumb: Ohhhh, a free trip to Disneyland! I can’t wait.
Rose: You are such an idiot, Crumbbum.
Brooklyn: We will also be visiting my city, Sin City, Las Vegas, Nevada for an appropriately named show “Double Down”. If you want to make that show, you better play your cards right. And we’ll be finishing off our little tour in the Emerald City, Seattle, Washington where “Beast Mode” will be activated for that edition of Chaos.
The fans perk up a little bit at this announcement, the boos slightly being replaced by talking with a few cheers sprinkled in for good measure.
Brooklyn: Now I have one last order of business but for that, I will need to talk to a certain Icon. So Darren Calloway, will you please come down here?
Nelson: What could Holloway want with the newest Icon on the roster?
“Judas” by Fozzy starts playing throughout the arena for the second time tonight as Darren Calloway makes his way down the ramp towards the ring. Brooklyn stands there, the hand with the microphone hanging down at her side as her other hand rested firmly upon her hip. Darren enters the ring, looking at Brooklyn with a little bit of caution before finally walking closer to her.
Brooklyn: Now Darren, I know that your match didn’t turn out the way that you had hoped. But I basically handed that match to you on a silver platter and you still blew it. I thought you were supposed to be good given all the names you dropped in your shoot. You were a severe disappointment and so not worthy enough to call yourself an IPW Icon.
Nelson: I believe that Holloway is laying it on pretty thick.
Crumb: Everyone loses no matter how great they are.
Rose: Yeah, but it clearly Brooklyn had high hopes for Darren in his debut match.
The fans start booing once again as Darren looks at her with pure shock.
Brooklyn: I will however, give you a chance to redeem yourself so that everyone can see I really am not the bitch they all like to make me out to be. If you can manage to take down this man… you can keep your job.
"Adrenaline in my soul
Every thought, out of control, Do it all to get them off their feet.
Crowd is here, about to blow, waitin' for me to start the show.
Out the curtain, lights go up I'm home, Whoa!
And my father said, when I was younger
Hard times breed better men."
Every thought, out of control, Do it all to get them off their feet.
Crowd is here, about to blow, waitin' for me to start the show.
Out the curtain, lights go up I'm home, Whoa!
And my father said, when I was younger
Hard times breed better men."
The roar and rift of "Kingdom" by Downstait is heard throughout the arena as the fans immediately begin booing loudly as Josh Holloway steps out onto the stage, his wife standing in the ring smiling wider than she had been earlier. He's seen dressed in his ring gear consisting of a long black leather trenchcoat that had various spikes, metal studs and chains on it and his actual ring gear underneath.
Darren doesn’t look too happy, a bit scared actually, as Holloway stood at the top of the ramp before throwing his head back tossing his hair straight back before spitting out water in a mist form as he let out a loud roar. Holloway began to make his way down the ramp, completely ignoring the fans as he marched his way down to the steel steps, stomping down on the bottom step before walking up them as he walked onto the ring apron, entering the ring as he made his way over towards his wife.
Brooklyn: I would like to introduce you all to my husband, Josh Holloway… IPW newest Icon. Josh… take care of this.
Brooklyn takes a few steps towards the corner and stands there as Darren looks to square up with Josh. But before he can act, Josh hits him with Hollow Point (running single leg front dropkick) with so much force it turns Darren inside out!
Crowd: HOLY SH*T! HOLY SH*T!
Crumb: WHAT CAN DARREN CALLOWAY BE THINKING AS JOSH HOLLOWAY KNOCKS HIM CLEAN OUT?!?!
Rose: Probably the same thing the crowd is thinking!
Brooklyn looks on and nods her head as the fans start flooding the arena with boos once again. Josh gets up to one knee as Brooklyn walks over towards him, putting a hand on his shoulder.
Brooklyn: Darren, if you haven’t figured it out… you’re fired. I don’t want to waste time and money on someone who can do nothing but talk.
“Kingdom” by Downstait starts to play again as Brooklyn stands over a kneeling Josh as they look at an unconscious Darren as the show fades to a commercial.
#JoinTheMayhem
Torres: The following contest is a SIX ICON TAG TEAM match scheduled for ONE FALL with a FIFTEEN MINUTE time limit!
“L’s Theme A” hits over the PA system as the lights dim and Scott Wilson steps out onto the stage to a loud reaction, nodding his head and staring out at the capacity crowd with confidence. He soaks in the atmosphere for a moment longer before strolling forward and stepping to the side as ‘Changes’ by Lucidious suddenly replaces his music and the cheers nearly drown out the entire building as Jason Dave steps out from the curtain. He pauses to give Wilson a grin, and the two give a double high five before making their way down to the ring.
The two men move to their respective sides of the ramp to slap hands with the exuberant fans. When they reach ringside, they both leap to the ring apron and swing through the ropes into the ring at the same time, taking off to opposite corners and leaping to the second to hype the crowd even further.
Nelson: Huge ovation for Scott Wilson and Jason Dave as they have taken the Iconic Arena by storm!
Rose: These fans are idiots. I bet when Jason gets powerbombed through our table, they’ll cheer that even louder.
Crumb: Ever the optimist, Rose, and uh…don’t jinx us like that!
The haunting sounds of “Alone In A Room” by Asking Alexandria start to waft their way out through the arena’s PA system as the lights flash in varying hues of pale purple and icy blue. When the main beat hits, Astrid Samson walks out from behind the black curtain onto the stage with a confident swagger in her step. Walking to the top of the ramp, she stops and spreads her legs apart, using her hands to fluff her hair as a twisted smirk begins to make its way onto her face. Standing there for a few moments, Astrid tilts her head back and takes in the crowd’s energy before facing the ring as the smirk reappeared on her face. She began to make her way down the ramp towards the ring, emitting a tremendous amount of confidence as she walks. Astrid reaches out to slap the hands of a few fans at ringside, but at the very last minute, she jerks her hand away, holding it up as she continues towards the ring laughing as she twirls her hair around her finger.
At the bottom of the ramp, Astrid scowls and smirks at the same time towards the ring before heading off to the right-hand side while holding her hands towards the fans as if to say, “talk to the hand”. She quickly hops onto the ring apron and gets to her feet, looking out at the crowd before she enters the ring through the ropes before bending her knees and quickly entering under the middle rope with a twirl. Holding her arms up at the level of her shoulders, Astrid shakes her head from side to side as she talks smack to the crowd before hopping down. She turns to regard the other two men who are now standing in the far corner pensively, but eventually makes her way over to prepare for their upcoming challenge.
Nelson: I do not think I am the only one who was surprised to see Astrid Samson on the card for this show considering how Chaos “Love Hurts II” went off the air.
Crumb: The Iconic Queen is much tougher than her size would allude, and she’s proving that by eagerly signing for this match so that she might get some measure of retribution.
Rose: Oh please! ASStrid is a chump who has once again signed her own death warrant. Maybe the reason she’s IPW’s punching bag is because her huge ego makes her a prime target!
Nelson: How can you say that after everything that Astrid has accomplished here in Iconic Professional Wrestling? I mean, she is all but standing on the front lines of a war that she never asked to be in all thanks to some insane vendetta against her husband!
Rose: Maybe if Mr. Samson wouldn’t have left the company, she wouldn’t always have to be fighting his battles?!
Crumb: C’mon, Rose. Certainly, you don’t condone what Munin and The BombTrax have been doing show to show. They are trying to dismantle IPW!
Rose: Maybe, maybe not. For a regime that is trying to destroy the place, they sure have stirred up some hype for the promotion. Just look at how many new roster members and returns we’ve had since they arrived!
The commentators bickering are cut off when the lights in the arena dim and the low hum intro of “You Should See Me In A Crown” by Billie Eilish begins over the PA system. Steam begins to rise around the stage as the lyrics start in…
Bite my tongue, bide my time
Wearing a warning sign
Wait 'til the world is mine
Visions I vandalize
Cold in my kingdom size
Fell for these ocean eyes
Wearing a warning sign
Wait 'til the world is mine
Visions I vandalize
Cold in my kingdom size
Fell for these ocean eyes
The minute the beat kicks in strobe lights flash all across the arena and Munin appears in the steam, flanked by The BombTrax. The fans give a mixed reaction to the trio as Munin rolls her shoulders and then takes her first steps down the ramp followed by the two men.
Torres: And introducing their opponents, weighting in at a combined weight of 695 pounds, the team of THE BOMBTRAX, PRESS, FLAMING YOUTH, AND MUNINNN!!!
You should see me in a crown
I'm gonna run this nothing town
Watch me make 'em bow
One by one by, one
One by one by
I'm gonna run this nothing town
Watch me make 'em bow
One by one by, one
One by one by
Munin pauses at ringside with her cohorts to stare up into he ring at her adversaries, and imagine her surprise when Astrid suddenly darts into motion, rushing towards the ropes and diving right through them to nail The Lady with a suicide dive!
Crumb: WHAT CAN EVERYONE BE THINKING AS THE ICONIC QUEEN MAKES AN INCREDIBLE DIVE RIGHT INTO THE FRAY!
Rose: Probably, “that was dumb seeing as how she’s now outnumbered!”
Crumb: Astrid is on top of Munin hammering away, and now The BombTrax intervening, and they just pulled the much smaller woman off their Lady…OH! BUT JASON DAVE AND SCOTT WILSON WADE IN WITH HARD RIGHT HANDS TO UPSET THEIR FOCUS!
Rose: The referee is beside himself in the ring, demanding that the participants properly start this match…surprise, surprise, they aren’t complying!
---Six Icon Tag Team Match: "Last King" Scott Wilson, Jason Dav and "Iconic Queen" Astrid Samson vs. The Bombtrax (Flaming Youth and Press) and Munin---
Dave pairs off with Press while Wilson takes on Youth, hammering the two men, who were caught of guard, away from the two women. Astrid rushes to regain her advantage over Munin but is shocked as she’s sent flying from a monkey flip that sees her slam spine first down on the steel ramp. The fans go absolutely nuts as the brawl continues, Munin moving in on Astrid now and starting to reign down stomps on the Iconic Queen.
Nelson: That brief distraction by The BombTrax allowed Munin to turn the tables on Samson here, but meanwhile, Youth just got sent into the steel guard rail thanks to Scott Wilson!
Crumb: Jason Dave has managed to unsettle the big man, knocking Press to lean against the ring steps…if you remember, it was Dave who was bloodied last Chaos due to an untimely meeting with the steel thanks to Press!
Rose: Will you stop reminding everyone what happened last show and focus on the here and now! DAVE WITH A BIG SPLASH TOWARDS PRESS, BUT THE BIG MAN MOVED!
Nelson: OUCH! Jason Dave just nailed the steps with his knees and flipped right over to land hard on the concrete!
Crumb: And now the big man is circling around to do his worst!
On the other side of the ring Wilson has clotheslined Youth up and over the guard rail into the front row. He leaps over the steel to join him, pulling him up and firing in hard fists that knock the man further and further up into the stands.
Meanwhile, on the ramp, Astrid has made it back to her feet despite the stomps by Munin who opens up with palm thrusts to knock the woman back. The Iconic Queen suddenly charges forwards past one of Munin’s strikes, nailing her with a clothesline that drives her down to the steel. Astrid screams as she drops down onto Munin, gripping her by the hair of the head and starts slamming the back of her skull off the hard ramp.
Nelson: We have got absolute pandemonium out here! The referee is running around the ring like a chicken with her head cut off!
Crumb: Oh crap! Press is leading Jason Dave this way…AND BOUNCES HIS SKULL OFF THE ANNOUNCE TABLE!
Rose: NO! NOT THIS TIME! LEAVE OUR ANNOUNCE TABLE ALONE!
Press smirks at Rose’s protests but an elbow to his gut by Dave brings his attention back to the task at hand. Gripping Jason by the wrist, he whips him hard towards the steel ring post of the ring, but Dave manages to get his boot up to stop his momentum. The big man curses and charges in after him, throwing his boot up for his finisher, Sudden Stop, when Dave ducks out of the way. Press’s boot passes right under the bottom rope and out the opposite side, and he strikes the steel crotch first.
Nelson: Press just cut off in a big way, and NOW DAVE IS ALL OVER HIM!
Crumb: Yeah, and on the other side of the arena Youth and Wilson are all the way at the uppermost seating and trading blows back and forth…OH! YOUTH WITH A SLOWBURN SUPERKICK THAT TAKES WILSON’S HEAD OFF!
Rose: Yeah, but that came out of nowhere, and now he’s struggling to even stay on his feet. The Last King had been wearing him out up to this point…
On the stage, Munin and Astrid are both back to their feet, hammering away at each other like madwomen. Munin suddenly ducks under one of The Iconic Queen’s blows causing Astrid to lose her footin, and The Lady ends up behind her, hooking her into a nasty looking rear naked choke.
Crumb: OH MY GOODNESS! WHAT CAN EVERYONE BE THINKING AS MUNIN HAS APPLIED MERCY TO ASTRID SAMSON?!?!
Rose: Probably, “ASStrid doesn’t deserve any mercy at all!”
Crumb: Astrid looks to be fading here…No! Wait! Astrid just pushed forward to get a foot on one of the stage supports…she’s walking up it…AND FLIPS BACKWARDS TO BREAK THE HOLD AND HOOK MUNIN’S HEAD FOR AN OFF WITH THEIR HEAD (flipping neckbreaker)!
DING DING DING!
Rose: Wow…you talk about a thirty second delay! The referee is waving this whole thing off and finally called for the bell.
Torres: As a result of none of the participants in this match heeding the referee’s warning, this has been labeled a NO CONTEST!
Nelson: Well Munin and Astrid have laid each other out on the aisleway up there, and Jason Dave has worked Press back in the direction of the ramp...and SCOTT WILSON JUST MANAGED TO OUT MANEUVER YOUTH AND SENDS HIM TUMBLING DOWN THE STAIRS BACK TO THE ARENA FLOOR!
Crumb: Damn! That could have killed him!
Rose: Yeah, and now Dave finally has Press down against the steel steps and is trying to lock up his arm…
Nelson: THAT’S GEOSTIGMA (kimura-arm lock)! PRESS HAS GOT NOWHERE TO GO AS HIS ARM IS BEING TORN OUT OF ITS SOCKET!
Up on the stage the two Lady Icons slowly begin to rise on wobbly legs but its Munin who lands the first blow with a right hand to Samson’s jaw. Astrid rocks back a few steps but then throws herself forwards into a right of her own. Both women look doggedly at one another for a minute before throwing themselves at one another with fists flying.
Nelson: Goodness gracious! These two are trying to tear each other apart, and…Thank God! Security just arrived!
Rose: Took Tap long enough…
Security pours out of the curtain and engulf the two women who are pulled apart still kicking and flailing, with even more rushing down to ringside. Press has just managed to stick a thumb into Dave’s eye, breaking the hold on his arm, but just as he steps forward to capitalize, he’s swarmed by security. On the other side of the ring Youth makes it to his feet just as Wilson comes rushing in, but before he can reach his destination he’s cut off by security as well.
Nelson: It looks like this fracas is finally going to be broken up, but the damage has been done and absolutely nothing has been settled!
Crumb: I don’t know that a normal match stip can contain this situation, if I’m being honest.
Rose: No, and that is what Tapioca Joe needs to think about the next time these six find themselves in vicinity of one another.
Press manages to knock a few security officers away from him and plows towards Dave, but they get reinforcements as security starts leaping over the guardrails from the crowd. Youth is dragged down the side of the ramp towards the back as Wilson is held in place against the ring post by four burly men.
On the stage The Iconic Queen and The Lady still kick and scream at one another despite being too far apart to reach. With a final pull, the security detail manages to pull the two women (Munin laughing the entire time) back through the curtain to sort out the details backstage.
Nelson: Well, while we try and curtail this situation, why don’t we go ahead and pay the bills.
Crumb: I’m all for a commercial right now, but man, I’m telling you. This is far from over.
Coming April 2020
Torres: The following contest is your CHAOS MAIN EVENT of the evening, scheduled for ONE FALL for THE IPW TELEVISION CHAMPIONSHIP!!!
The lights dim and the sound of “I Miss The Misery” blares over the PA system. The fans get to their feet as the former Television Champion, Brianna Rissi makes her way out onto the ramp at a light bouncing skip. Her hair is hanging long, and she wears a lime green shirt with a black skull across the chest. Her short shorts are lime green and black plaid and her lime green socks reach her knees, with her signature skull sneakers with hot pink skulls on the side seem to glow. She pauses for a moment, before making her way down to the ring skipping, a slight malicious smile plastered to her face.
Torres: Introducing first, standing at five foot and weighing in at 103 pounds, hailing from Melbourne, Australia…she is BRIANNA RISSSIII!!!
Reaching ringside she merrily goes over to the stairs, and climbs them, and then enters the ring between the bottom and middle rope. Twirling, she goes to the center of the ring, grinning out into the crowd.
Nelson: Brianna Rissi seems recovered after that vicious powerbomb on the steel ring steps thanks to The BombTrax last show, but now she has a huge challenge in front of her to regain the Television Championship.
Crumb: It should be interesting to see how this all plays out considering she and Oliver Black have an Unholy Alliance.
Rose: Are you kidding me? This is for the gold, Crumbbum! They can’t be worrying about alliances and that kind of crap!
Just then the lights in the arena go out, the crowd pops as the pitch black twinkles with the light of cell phones. A slow melodic chime of reassembling a child's jack in the box plays through the speakers. A few lights flicker on stage, a guitar, base and drums all chim in slowly keeping beat with the creepy chimes. But then all goes silent.
NIGHTMARE!
(Now your nightmare comes to life.)
(Now your nightmare comes to life.)
With the opening scream of "Nightmare" by Avenged Sevenfold echoes through the arena. The Nightmare Oliver Black pops up from a hole in the stage. The crowd erupts as Black stands center stage, black paint smeared under his eyes, a black nightmare bandana covering the lower half of his face.
Torres: And making his way to the ring, standing at five foot ten and weighing in at 180 pounds, residing in Brooklyn, New York... He is the IPW TELEVISION CHAMPION, THE NIGHTMARE, OLIVER BLACKKKK!
With the announcement of his name the feathered shoulders of his entrance jacket burst open into a large pair of black wings and reveal the IPW Heavyweight Championship around his waist! Oliver stands there for a moment soaking in the crowd’s reaction, before making his way to the ring.
You should have known
The price of evil
And it hurts to know
That you belong here, yeah
Ooh, it's your f*ckin' nightmare!
The price of evil
And it hurts to know
That you belong here, yeah
Ooh, it's your f*ckin' nightmare!
Nelson: Oliver Black has held onto that Television Championship for two hundred and thirty-three days and faced all manner of challengers, but you have to believe that here tonight Brianna Rissi may very well be the greatest of these.
Crumb: After the war he and Jason Dave had at New Years, Who Dis? Two, I’m surprised that Oliver is being forced to defend again this quickly.
Rose: No rest for the champion, you know that. Besides, now we finally get to see if all the hype these two have been raising is for real…
---Chaos Main Event: Iconic Pro Wrestling Television Championship Match: Brianna Rissi vs. "The Nightmare" Oliver Black---
Rissi and Oliver stand in opposite ends of the ring as the referee parades the IPW Television Championship around before moving to pass it outside, but Oliver stops her before she can complete the task and asks for two microphones. The referee looks confused as the ring attendant hands the mic’s up to Black, who tosses the championship over his shoulder and steps to the center of the ring where Rissi joins him. He hands her one of the mics, and the fans begin to buzz with uneasiness as the two stare out into the crowd in bemusement.
Brianna turns to Oliver with a slight sneer as she raises the microphone up to her lips and faces the crowd.
Brianna Rissi: Last week, I was forced to face one of the biggest icons in wrestling history. Last week, I was forced to view someone I care about as a target, rather than a friend. Last week, I was forced to take on one of my few allies here on Chaos, Love Hurts, and let me tell you, it truly was painful. NO one wants to look into the eyes of someone they love, and attempt to harm them in any way. It's sickening and made me feel like a scumbag after the match was over. Jason kept reassuring me all week that our friendship would not be damaged due to one match. He promised me that no matter what became of the outcome of that heinous act, it wouldn’t affect our friendship. Because that is exactly what management is trying to do to me. They are trying to break me. They are trying to strip me of every single defense that I have, to leave me naked without some kind of shield. Let me tell you what though, instead of tearing the friendship I share with Jason Dave apart, it brought us closer together. Jason pulled me aside after the match, and told me as an unofficial big brother, that he has never been more proud of me than what I accomplished last week when I defeated him.
She struts around the ring, as irritation rings through her voice. Bewilderment enters as she then points over to her current opponent.
Brianna Rissi: Now, here we go again. This time, it’s my current Unholy Alliance Member, Oliver Black.
She waves her hand up in the air dramatically.
Brianna Rissi: They are once again trying to turn someone, someone who has outspokenly campaigned for me to earn a title shot against the currently missing World Champion, against me. They failed last week and so they are trying to up the stakes. They couldn’t break a friendship, so now they are trying to break up an alliance. One that was brittle before it formed, but over the weeks have become solidified. Brooklyn and Tapioca Joe KNOW that I’m coming for their precious World Title, and they are trying everything they can to create a case that states that I don’t deserve it. They know that Oliver is their best shot at stopping me for one of two reasons.
Brianna holds up one finger on her left hand.
Brianna Rissi: One, Oliver is undefeated against me in single matches. I stood up and gave him praise. He is the better competitor walking into this match, I won’t deny it. They are hoping that Oliver will defeat me and throw me back down the ladder to claim if I can’t beat the television champion, why do I deserve a shot at World?
She then holds up two fingers.
Brianna Rissi: And two? If I somehow pull off this miracle win and somehow defeat Oliver Black, then I’ll be forced to claim the Television Title, something I clearly do not want, and it will hinder my chances of getting a World Title Shot significantly. I’ll be so preoccupied to defend the title week after week that I won't have the time or the energy to focus on the World Title. Either way management wins. So what is a girl to do? What is the point of subjecting my body to brutal brutality when the outcome is going to remain the same?!
She looks over to Oliver.
Brianna Rissi: What’s a girl to do?
Oliver Black reaches a hand out in pause before lifting his microphone to his lips.
Oliver Black: What she does is says… NO! She makes the choice to no longer play by THEIR rules!
Oliver points towards management behind the curtain.
Oliver Black: She makes a choice to no longer play THEIR game! For months this company and its management tried to hold me down, tried to make me look dumb, make me look less than! And for months I changed the game! I played by MY RULES and made my own path! I got to where I am today, became the longest reigning champion in this company's history not because of Joshua Samson, Tapioca Joe and definitely not because of Brooklyn Halloway! But because of ME! Because I executed MY plan and forced THEIR hand until they had NO CHOICE but to acknowledge me!
If Brooklyn Halloway had it her way it would have been Stasi Herveaux a top the throne all of those months, and not me! If management had it their way it would be Mike Mason out her headlining week after week and NOT ME! And yet here… I… stand! And have no one to thank but ME!
Oliver looked at Brianna and smirked an evil grin.
Oliver Black: And that is exactly what Brianna Rissi, what the Unholy Alliance is doing… TONIGHT!
Just as Oliver finishes his words The BombTrax suddenly appear on the ring apron behind the Unholy Alliance, having somehow eluded security and making their way through the crowd.
Nelson: GOODNESS GRACIOUS! DOES THIS NEVER END?!?
The fans uproar signals Oliver and Brianna that something is amiss, and they both turn around just in time to see the two men barreling down on them. Youth dives at Brianna, taking her down to the ground and laying in right hands as Press clocks Oliver with a clothesline that drops the Television Champion.
Crumb: Not while these two hooligans and their boss lady continue to go unchecked! I mean...they just left a huge brawl moments ago and now they are already in another one!
Press reaches down and yanks Oliver to his feet, getting a fist full of The Nightmare's hair and runs him towards the nearby corner face first. Oliver, however, manages to get his boot out in front of him to stop the momentum, and after a few elbow strikes to the gut, it's Press's skull that's driven into the turnbuckle.
On the other side of the ring Rissi covers up as Youth reigns fists down on her, but manages to get her knee wedged between herself and the man's body. Kicking out violently she manages to knock him off of her and scrambles to her feet. She falls back into the corner opposite of where Black and Press are doing battle, and as Youth comes rushing back in at her she side steps the man and delivers a drop toe hold that sends him face first down into the middle turnbuckle!
Crumb: LOOK AT THIS! THE UNHOLY ALLIANCE HAVE TURNED THE TABLES!
Rose: For the moment...
Nelson: Either way, Black has just opened up with multiple strikes on the big man in his corner, while Rissi has just taken the second turnbuckle and is hammering fists down into Youth's unprotected skull in hers!
The pummeling continues until Press puts on of his mitten like hands right in Black's face and gives him a shove backwards that causes him to stumble several feet away. He shakes the cobwebs and takes a step out of the corner when Oliver suddenly bursts forward, stepping up onto the big man's thigh, and driving his knee square into his face for a devastating shining wizard.
Nelson: THE NIGHTMARE WITH WE ARE THE WITCHES TO PRESS AND KNOCKS HIM RIGHT BACK INTO THAT CORNER!
Crumb: YEAH, AND ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE RING RISSI JUST NAILED YOUTH WITH HER BULLDOG!
Rose: Brianna is pulling Youth back over to the corner, and now she's looking over her shoulder at Black...what are they going to do?
Oliver spies how Rissi is doing on her end of the ring, and after seeing her give him the same look, both competitors nod in unison. Grabbing their respective rivals by the wrist, they both pull with all their might, not letting go until the last second, to Irish whip The BombTrax right into one another. Poor Youth is mowed down by the momentum of the much larger Press, who doesn't go down, but instead runs right into a spinning heel kick by Rissi. The big man strikes the canvas, and quickly makes a roll over to the ropes to try and get to his feet. His partner must have thought the same thing, because they end up side by side when they rise, only for The Unholy Alliance to come barreling in to send them right up and over the top rope with dual clotheslines.
Nelson: MY GOODNESS! THE BOMBTRAX HAVE BEEN EJECTED FROM THE RING BY THE UNHOLY ALLIANCE!
Crumb: That's right! Thanks for coming invaders, and see you bye!
Rose: See you bye? What the hell are you talking about?
Nelson: Crumb is just excited that not only once, but twice tonight someone has stepped up to the plate and knocked these interlopers out of an Iconic Professional Wrestling ring!
The BombTrax try and gather one another on the outside of the ring near the ramp while Rissi and Black stand tall in the ring, stalking back and forth to a huge ovation from the crowd. Rissi beckons for the two men to give it another go and Oliver sits on the middle rope, inviting them back into the ring for more. Press is fuming on the outside, but when he takes a step back in that direction his partner throws himself in front of him, placing both hands on the big man's chest. They begin to argue a bit as the Unholy Alliance continue to taunt the two men while Press casts a dangerous stare at both.
Suddenly, the screen at the top of the stage flickers to life, drawing everyone, including the four Icon's, attention. A camera view from behind Jason Dave and Scott Wilson comes into view as the two men stalk down a hallway leading to a door with a plaque that reads 'General Manager'. Dave all but bursts the door open with his boot, and the camera picks up a startled Tapioca Joe looking up from papers laid out on his desk. The grizzled veteran lets the pen in his hand drop to the desk and leans back in his chair to cross his arms over his chest, bushy grey eyebrows lifting at the intrusion.
Tap: Gentlemen?
Scott Wilson falls back into a seat in front of the General Manager's desk and stares off in the corner with a look of dejection on his face, while Jason Dave stalks back and forth at the back of the room, obviously steaming. Finally he crosses the room to stand in front of Joe's desk, slamming both hands down on the front and leaning across it.
Jason Dave: This is bullsh*t, Tap, and you know it! These people have been allowed to invade IPW and Brooklyn Holloway has done nothing. NOTHING!
Tap continues to give Jason a grim eye as the man looks to be on the verge of unraveling.
Jason Dave: They've led backstage attacks, beat people down, cheated, and have tried to intimidate every person on this roster. Look at what they did just last show to Astrid Samson! While I may not have a great deal of love for the woman, that's too far by anyone's standards! Those two thugs, The BombTrax, have even been allowed to walk around here with some fake belts they had mocked up claiming to be the IPW Tag Team Champions!
Jason shakes his head in disgust, clearly having had enough of this sham.
Jason Dave: Where the hell is Holloway? Where...
Jason stares hard at the man across the desk.
Jason Dave: Where the hell are you?
The question causes Tap's expression to soften, and he unfolds his arms to rest his hands clasped on the desk in front of him.
Tap: Jason, do you have a suggestion? I'm all ears.
Wilson shifts in his seat and perks up at that question, casting a glance at Dave before looking back over at Joe. Dave raises up off the desk, and it's his turn to cross his arms over his chest.
Jason Dave: I say if they are going to walk around here with those belts and IPW management isn't going to announce anything to the contrary, then they should have to defend them...and I know two guys primed and ready to take it off them!
Wilson suddenly stands up, placing a reassuring hand on Dave's shoulder, and the two men nod to one another before looking back to Tap for his answer. The old goat leans back into his seat as if in thought, and then his bushy mustache turns up with a slight smile and a sparkle in his eye.
Tap: It's settled then. Next Chaos, it will be Jason Dave and Scott Wilson versus The BombTrax. Keep in mind the IPW Tag Team Championship are currently inactive regardless of what Flaming Youth or Press may think to the otherwise.
Out in the arena the crowd explodes as Jason Dave and Scott Wilson nod in confidence while Tapioca picks up his pen and starts writing up the contract. The scene suddenly cuts back to inside the arena where The BombTrax are halfway up the ramp watching their fate unfold. Youth stands with his hands on his hips and shaking his head in disbelief while Press takes a few steps forwards yelling obscenities even though the two men can't hear them through the screen. When they turn back towards ringside they find Brianna Rissi pointing and laughing at them while Oliver Black sneers, lifting his Television Championship up towards them as if to say 'Cheers'.
Nelson: You heard it here first, folks! Next Chaos we will see the “IPW Tag Team Championships” defended, whether The BombTrax like it or not!
Crumb: I tell you what guys....it's so nice to see egg on their faces for a change.
Rose: I have to admit...this changes things for them. They can't just walk around saying they are the champs without having some repercussions.
Press gives the Unholy Alliance one more look like he might actually want to head back down to the ring before waving them off and turning to stalk towards the back. Youth follows under a chorus of boos at the cowardly act, while Brianna Rissi takes a turnbuckle and plays up to the crowd and Oliver Black continues to hold his championship high in their direction.
Nelson: Folks, that is all the time we have here tonight...make sure to tune in two weeks time for the next installment of Chaos. Goodnight!
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