|
Post by moonchild on Oct 17, 2019 19:25:22 GMT -5
Rupert Mudcock sat in his leather chair with an extremely disgruntled look on his face. A set of rough fighters hands were aggressively asserted on his shoulders and clasping his ten thousand dollar suit ruining the fine silk. Sweat dripped down his bald forehead as he tried to squirm free, the futility in his actions draining his energy, leaving him an exhausted mess. Above him stood a very angry and fired up Takuma Sato who seemed to be enjoying himself while applying painful pressure to his obese employer’s shoulders. Across from both of them sat Valora’s lawyer, Tara Bishop, with a contract document signed by the entire roster. Around the room stood the rest of the Ultimate Wrestling roster as they glared at their Boss with dagger like stares in attempt to put the fear of God into him. Among them were the leaders of the locker room, O’Brian, Abishag, Reinhardt, and Jeremiah Vastrix. They stood nearest to Ms. Bishop with their arms folded as they exuded intimidation toward Rupert.
Tara: Consider yourself lucky that Mr. Stricker is not pressing charges and that I’m not representing him here today Mr. Mudcock. I am going to be real clear here so even an old man like yourself can understand the ramifications of what going against this collective bargaining agreement we’ve put forward would mean for you.
Rupert: I’m not signing anything! WALTER! WALTER! GET IN HERE DAMN IT!
Tara: Walter isn’t here right now Mr. Mudcock, he can’t help you. Now if you don’t sign this agreement granting all the wrestlers currently on your roster and all future hireling’s health insurance and workers compensation, everyone in this room I set to walk out of this venue, and head back to their homes. You will have to cancel this show, and most likely, the next five consecutive shows you have booked. You may not go bankrupt, but you will lose a lot of money and you can kiss beating Riot Star Wrestling in the ratings goodbye because as of right now these people in this room are your best shot at doing that and like it or not they are Ultimate Wrestling to the people filling the seats out there.
Rupert: My god woman, do you ever shut up? I told you once and I’ll tell you a million times! I’m not signing that document!
Tara opens up her Chanel purse and pulls out a piece of paper before planting it on the table and sliding it over to Rupert gently. A picture of Walter Reagan has been paper clipped to it along with a considerable amount of paperwork proving past criminal charges.
Tara: I didn’t want to have to do this, but you’ve left me no choice. It would seem your hired help, Walter, has a criminal past and that his DNA was found all over Ivan’s clothing… you covered your tracks well with the assault, but I’m afraid you missed a few things. So… unless you want to settle an assault charge in court, I would sign the collective agreement. Ivan is willing to let bygones be bygones, but not without the healthcare you promised for the roster, Oh! I almost forgot he also wants the assault charges against Valora dropped as well…
A wicked smile came over Tara’s face as she uttered the last sentence of her counter argument to Rupert. She loved her job and loved fighting for her clients and it showed with every rebuttal she made to the corpulent media Mogul. Rupert’s face had turned beat red with anger, he knew he was beaten and it was a severe blow to his pride and his ego. He had no choice, he would be forced to sign the agreement and drop his charges against Valora.
Rupert: Unhand me damn it! I’ll sign the damn thing, but just you all wait! You’ll pay for this dearly!
Sato released his grip on Mudcock’s shoulders and Rupert pulled out a pen from his desk draw and signed the document in triplicate. One of the copies went to the newly elected representative of the Ultimate Wrestling Associations Union leader Kronin Reinhardt, the other to Tara Bishop, and the last one was left on Rupert’s desk for him. He sat there and starred at it fuming from ear to ear as the people in his office filed out one by one with smiles on their faces, patting each other on the back, ecstatic with the way the meeting had gone. Sato was the last to attempt to leave the room and stopped just as he was exiting when Rupert called out his name.
Rupert: Mr. Sato, I would expected better judgement on your part. A man in your position, with your family obligations, I thought you would be more responsible than this.
Sato: Are you threatening me old man?
Rupert: Just an observation… good luck tonight against Ms. Salinas. I’m looking forward to watching the two of you beat the living shit out of one another.
Sato shook his head and stormed off as Rupert picked up the phone on his desk and immediately dialed a number.
Rupert: Walter! Where the hell are you? Walmart? You idiot! Get your ass here right now! I need you!
LiveAirTime.jpg
The scene opens to a large crowd inside the Julia Morgan Ballroom in San Francisco in front of a sold out crowd. The cameras go live inside the venue as “Stranglehold” by Ted Nugent begins to play over the speaker system of the venue. As the camera pans around the Ballroom, we see most of everyone in attendance is dressed up in weird outlandish and provocative costumes. There are also a great deal of rainbow flags and pink pussy hats visible among the crowd. The cameras focus then shifts from the pumped up fans to the announcer team of the youthful move by move commentator Scott Slade and the geriatric color commentator Chris Rodgers at their announcer table.
Chris Rodgers: Hello Ultimate Wrestling fans and welcome to the third airing of Friday Night CLASH! We are coming to you streaming live on Squawker, MeTube.com, and broadcasting from America’s number one watched cable entertainment television and news channel in America, M.O.X!
Scott Slade: Fans, we may just have the best Clash card ever lined up for you tonight! Valora Salina’s defends her Franchise championship title belt for the second time this month and for the second week in a row against Takuma Sato in a K.O. fight to the finish!
Chris Rodgers: Forget those idiots! Brock Abishag is in the building tonight! He plans on proving himself against a worthy opponent in the likes of Kronin Reinhardt and I bet he crushes him like a bug!
Scott Slade: Will see about that, my gut feeling say’s it’s going to be a brutal match where ether man could come out on top!
Chris Rodgers: How many times have I told you to stop confusing your stomach issues with intuition?
Scott Slade: Ha...ha you’re a funny guy Chris. Fan’s we are about to kick things off with Vastrix taking on Davey-Boy O’Brien in our opening match here tonight in San Fran!
Chris Rodgers: Nobody calls it San Fran who lives here you idiot.
Scott Slade: Whatever…
DaveyvsVastrix.jpg
"Baker Street" by Gerry Rafferty hits the sound system and the fans turn their attention to the stage as "The Scottish Terrier" Davey-Boy O'Brien walks out onto the stage below the makeshift Teletron screen. The fans give him a nice reaction as Rich Relando steps into the ring with a microphone in his hand ready to announce the first competitor of the night. Rich as always is wearing his old fashioned all white suit, a red handkerchief pocket square, and his signature white fedora hat.
Rich Relando: Making his way onto the stage from O'Groats, Caithness, Scotland, standing at five feet, nine inches, and weighing in at 194 pounds! HE IS THE SCOTTISH TERRIER! DAVEY! BOY! OOOOO’Brian!
Scott Slade: Well last week O’Brien defeated Andrew Storm in his first match and tonight he takes on Jeremiah Vastrix who spent most of last week in the hospital after that brutal cage match with Valora Salinas and Kronin Reinhardt.
Chris Rodgers: He was knocked senseless! His mask and fancy gadget in his skull were absolutely wrecked!
Scott Slade: The cybernetic eye looked clearly damaged during the fight and I think Vastrix could be ripe for the picking even though he has a lot more experience in the ring than Davey! This could be a chance for O’Brien to really show management what he has.
O’Brien makes his way down the ramp slapping a few high fives with the fans on the way down before climbing up the steel steps and getting inside the ring. He then bounces off the ropes a few times loosening up while waiting for his opponent. Suddenly Davey Boy’s music cuts off and the cameras then cut back to the stage as “Down Low” by R Kelly starts to play on the sound system. Jeremiah Vastrix walks out onto the stage with his face wrapped in bandages and with an eye patch where his cybernetic eye was once located. There is no mask, no gyrating of the hips, or even humping motions tonight as he ignores the fans and makes his way down the ramp focused on his opponent at hand.
Rich Relando: Making his way to the ring! Standing at six feet, two inches, and weighing in at 245 pounds! He is the self-proclaimed God given gift to women all around the world! JEREMIAH VASTRIX!
Vastrix walks up the steel steps and then enters the ring before taking off his black leather jacket and tossing it out of the ring to a young woman in the crowd who seemingly loses her mind over it. The two athlete’s stare at each other while sizing one another up as they wait for the bell to sound. The fans look on staring at Jeremiah’s heavily bandaged face wondering how badly his disfigurement could be.
Chris Rodgers: It looks like he wasn’t able to get that gizmo of his repaired Scott.
Scott Slade: No, he’s clearly wearing an eye patch and it looks like his face isn’t fully healed. Like I said I think this is going to be a tough uphill match for Jeremiah.
Chris Rodgers: There is the bell and we have officially kicked off Friday Night Clash Three!
The two fighters lock up in the center of the ring and Jeremiah uses his advantage in size and power to thrust Davey-Boy into the inside right corner turnbuckle. He then unleashes a series of stiff kicks to the smaller Scot’s gut and then grabs his arm in order to Irish whip slam him into the epicenter of the ring mat. O’Brien arches his back writhing in pain as Vastrix gets right on top of him and unleashes a few nasty stomps to his chest. He then picks up Davey-Boy to attempt his subsequent move, when suddenly from out of nowhere a fired up O’Brien unleashes a series of alternating European upper cuts. He then takes Jeremiah off of his feet with a piercing discuss elbow straight to his vulnerable bandaged face. Vastrix hits the mat hard holding his face in discomfort and then starts to squirm around like a worm rolling around the ring from the agony running through his nervous system to his brain.
Scott Slade: The Scottish Terrier fighting back!
Chris Rodgers: Jeremiah started off the match in a shrewd manner, using his weight and size to his advantage, but he has no business in the ring if a few shots to his face is going to cause him that much pain. There is no shame in throwing in the towel and healing up for another day.
Scott Slade: O’Brien is already all over Jeremiah! The Scotsman is relentless!
Vastrix holds his hands over his face attempting to block the stomps from O’brien as he rolls out of the ring to escape his opponent. The fans jeer at Jeremiah until Davey backs up and dashes toward the ropes. The fans let out roar as he plunges over the ring ropes and nails Vastrix with an insane suicide dive. The impact sends both men’s bodies into the steel guard rail like crash dummies in an auto test. The fans erupt and begin chanting “Davey Boy” trying to rally the Scot back to his feet.
Chris Rodgers: Unbelievable! The Scotsman has no regard for his personal safety!
Scott Slade: Will you listen to these fans! They love him!
Both men are slow onto their feet, but O’Brien tries to stay in control by grabbing Jeremiah and strains hard to whip him into the guard railing. Vastrix is able to hang on to O’Brien’s arm however and reverses the toss. O’Brien is the one who instead ends up slapping the steel guard railing with his backside much to the fans disappointment. The fans let out a chorus of boos as Vastrix sprints at O’Brien and clotheslines him up over the guard railing into the crowd of costumed San Franciscan fans in the front row.
Chris Rodgers: Apparently Vastrix could care less about his opponent or the fans!
Scott Slade: I hope that they’re all okay! Nothing like having a pro wrestler fall on you.
Chris Rodgers: There all brain dead liberal idiots here anyway so who cares!
Scott Slade: Wow, could you be any more offensive?
Chris Rodgers: I just call them like I see them Scotty! Just look at the way these people dress! You’d think it was Halloween or something!
The referee initiates his count as Vastrix steps over the guard railing and begins to unload on his opponent with stiff right hands as soon as Davey is back on his feet. Jeremiah then pitches Davey boy back over the guard railing and onto the ground. O’brien rolls toward the steps as Jeremiah hops back over and then picks up O’Brien and throws him back into the ring before sliding back in himself as well. Vastrix then dives on O’Brien and locks him into a headlock on the mat choking off the blood flow to Davey’s brain.
Scott Slade: O’Brien is in trouble here, he really needs to get back in control of this match.
Chris Rodgers: Vastrix is too experienced and way too big for him! Time to pack it in and go back to Scotland foreigner!
The referee gets down on the mat to inquiry O’Brien if he wants to quit, but the little Scot has too much heart and fight inside of him to quit. He quickly starts to work his way back to his feet, digging down deep to push Vastrix up off of him. Once in a standing position, O’Brien commences to elbow Vastrix in the gut multiple times until he forces him to break the headlock. He then runs towards the ropes, bounces off of them, and then dives over Jeremiah’s back hooking his arms around his waist executing a masterful sunset flip into a pin.
Scott Slade: Surprise pin!
Chris Rodgers: ONE! TWO! KICK OUT BY JEREMIAH!
Scott Slade: What a move by the Scotsman! He almost had Jeremiah!
Chris Rodgers: Someone needs to tell that little shrimp that it’s going to take a lot more than that to put Vastrix away.
Both men get back to their feet and begin exchanging closed fist punches, but Vastrix strength once again wins out and he gains the advantage. He then gives O’Brien a big boot to the gut before executing a sit down gut wrench power bomb in the center of the ring. Vastrix holds position and puts his legs over Davey’s arms to lock him into a quick pin.
Scott Slade: Vastrix with a pin now! ONE! TWO! KICK OUT DAVEY-BOY O’BRIEN!
Chris Rodgers: How the hell did he do that?
Jeremiah gets up and immediately gets in the referee’s face screaming at him about the speed of the count being slow. This gives O’Brien a chance to catch his breath and he pulls himself up to his feet with the help of the ring ropes. As Vastrix is turning around, Davey Boy sprints at him, and dives, trying to hit the same flying head butt move he used to defeat Andrew Storm. The move fails as Vastrix lifts his leg up and blocks the attack by delivering a massive big boot to the Scot’s face.
Scott Slade: Oh no! O’Brien went for an all-out attack and took a huge blow in the face with that big boot!
Chris Rodgers: That’ll scramble his brain real good Scotty!
Vastrix runs up to O’Briens body, leaps into the air, and drops a massive elbow over his sternum before covering him again for a pin.
Scott Slade: This could be it! ONE! TWO! TRH-NO! KICK OUT BY DAVEY BOY AGAIN!
Chris Rodgers: What the hell! There’s no way!
Vastrix gets up again and shoves the referee this time before screaming at him and holding three fingers up in frustration. Once again O’Brien is able to get to his feet, this time Vastrix is so involved with his argument with the referee that Davey Boy sneaks up behind him. He wraps his hands around Jeremiah’s waist and then German suplexes him holding it for a pin in the process.
Chris Rodgers: No way!
Scott Slade: O’Brien with a pin now! ONE! TWO! NO! Vastrix still with a lot of life left in him!
O’Brien pops up back onto his feet and starts breathing heavily and flexing all fired up as the crowd goes crazy from his amazing comeback. Jeremiah gets to his feet, but O’Brien is quick to grab Vastrix around the waist. He then lifts him up off of the ring mat in a bear hug squeeze and starts to crush Jeremiah as hard as he can. The fans go crazy as they watch little Scot’s amazing display of strength as he uses all of his muscular power to squeeze the air out of his opponent.
Scott Slade: Five foot nine and he’s wrestling like big man in the ring!
Chris Rodgers: What is he doing now?
Suddenly O’Brien brings Vastrix in close and begins to head-butt the heavily bandaged head and face of Jeremiah’s like a deranged mad man. The blows echo inside the Julia Morgan Ballroom as the fans start to count the impacts in support. Vastrix nose breaks again, his bandages soak with blood, and the 10th and final head-butt spatters the ring like a Jackson Pollock painting splattered with Jeremiah’s blood.
Chris Rodgers: Jesus Christ all mighty! Someone stop him!
The fans roar in a frenzy from the extreme violence as O’Brien releases Vastrix and he collapses onto the mat. O’Brien faces the crowd covered in his opponent’s blood, then pounces on Jeremiah, and covers him for a pin.
Scott Slade: The cover! ONE! TWO! THREE! Davey Boy O’Brien wins for the second time in a row! What a match!
Chris Rodgers: That little “BLEEEP” is a complete psychopath! Did you see what he did to Jeremiah’s face!
Scott Slade: Hey! No one forced Jeremiah to wrestle tonight, Davey just did what he had to do to win!
"Baker Street" by Gerry Rafferty hits the sound system and the referee lifts O’Brien’s hand in the air before pointing at him signifying him the winner of the match. EMT workers rush down the ramp to provide medical attention to Jeremiah as O’Brien celebrates his victory with the fans on his way back up the ramp.
Chris Rodgers: Fan’s will be back with an update on Jeremiah’s condition but we have to cut for commercial break!
storysegment.jpg
Behind the scenes and out of the focus of the cameras out at ringside, we see Rupert Mudcock’s hired henchman Walter Reagan backstage looking awfully suspicious. Officially Rupert’s bodyguard, but really a man of all trades, and a love so strong for Rupert that he would do anything to make the old man happy. As he crept toward the locker rooms he looked about with great paranoia making extra sure no one could see him. Once he’d reached the women’s locker room he opened the door as quietly as he could and stepped inside. From the showers he could hear the water running in the background and the voices of the Franchise champion Valora Salinas and her protégé Abbigail Dresden.
Abbigail: I’m so happy Tara was able to get the charges dropped Valora!
Valora: I told you not worry Abbigail, Tara is the best! All we had to do was wait for the rich bastard to screw up and suddenly the ball was in our court.
Walter made his way to Valora’s locker and located her water bottle sitting on the bench across from it. He quickly unscrewed the top and pulled a small glass vile out and poured half the contents of a strange substance inside of it. He then quickly put the water bottle back in the exact place it was and made his way out of the women’s locker room as fast as humanly possible.
As the door closed behind him Valora and Abbigail walked out of the shower room wrapped in towels and made their way over to their lockers. Abbigail had won her dark match earlier in the evening and was very excited about the prospect of getting a chance to wrestle on live internet stream and television. As the two spoke about the match, Valora opened her water bottle and began drinking from it in order to hydrate for her championship match against Sato.
Abbigail: I honestly can’t wait to get my first live match Valora, I feel like I’m ready, like it’s finally my time to shine and show what I can do.*
Valora: I agree, you’ve been working really hard and you’ve won all of your dark matches. Hopefully Ultimate Wrestling management will see that and give you your shot.
The two hug one another and the scene changes back to the men’s locker room where we see Walter pouring the same substance into Sato’s green tea pot. A wicked smile comes over his face as he laughs a little to himself with Sato nowhere visible in the locker room. Once again, he quickly and quietly leaves the locker room unnoticed by anyone. A few minutes later Takuma Sato comes into the locker room from the showers and sit downs with his green tea on the floor. He consumes it quickly,and then begins to meditate in preparation for his match against Valora completely unaware that he’s been drugged.
KroninvsAbishag.jpg
The feed comes back live inside the stadium as “Ich Will” by Rammstein starts to play. Kronin walks out onto the stage with his right fist held high up in the air. He’s wearing the colors of his nation’s flag with his yellow, black, and red wrestling gear on showing his prideful heritage. His long black hair is tied into a pony tail tonight and he has a stern look on his face. The fans give him a nice pop and cheer as he makes his way down the aisle and into the ring.
Scott Slade: Well, I had a chance to catch up with Kronin earlier this week and he stated he was very disappointed in himself for losing the triple threat cage match at Friday Night Clash Two.*
Chris Rodgers: Then maybe Reinfart should lay off the schnitzel and hit the gym!
Rich Relando: From Berlin, Germany. Weighing in at an impressive 275 pounds, and standing tall at six feet, six inches! KRONIN REINHARD!
Scott Slade: Are you kidding me? Kronin is one of the most conditioned athletes on the roster. You can’t be serious?
Chris Rodgers: Hey, I just call it like I see it Scotty!
Suddenly “Amazing Grace” by the Dropkick Murphey’s starts to play from the sound system in the arena. The camera cut’s to the main stage as Brock Abishag walks out along with his cult leader Dr. Summeroff. Summeroff is a tired looking individual with strange large glasses with thick lenses that enlarge his eyes and pupils like a magnifying glass. The fans let out some fierce boo’s as Abishag curses at them aggressively. Dr. Summeroff is carefully carrying a crystal amphora with beautiful aquatic symbols designed around its circumference. Inside float’s a chunk of The Great Chilean Blob floating in its own stew of ocean water and blob mucus.
Chris Rodgers: There he is! The future Champion of Ultimate Wrestling!
Scott Slade: But who the hell is that behind him and what is he carrying?
Chris Rodgers: Looks like some kind of glob in a jar… never mind that Slade! I swear it’s like working with a child with attention deficit disorder…
Scott Slade: I was just curious, jeez old man did you poop your diaper?
Chris Rodgers: I’ll show you poop my Diaper! {Smack}
Scott Slade: Hey you can’t hit me like that! That’s abuse you know! I could take that up with HR!
Chris Rodgers: Good luck with that kid, we work for M.O.X hahaha!
Rich Relando: Making his way down the ramp now! Hailing from Toad River, British Columbia, Canada! He stands at an incredible six feet, seven inches, and weighs in at a massive 280 pounds! HE IS BROCK ABISHAG!
Scott Slade: I’m just saying, whatever is in the crystal jar is really weird…
Chris Rodgers: Just call the match and do your job and forget the old creepy dude in the weird glasses.
Abishag makes his way down the ramp, through the aisle, and over to the steel steps while simultaneously ignoring the Californians around him as he had done the previous two appearances. Abishag's eyes are locked dead center on Kronin as he climbs into the ring. Once inside he stands at the far turnbuckle away from Kronin discussing something with Summeroff. The bell sound’s signifying the start of the match and Kronin blitzes in on Abishag who is clearly caught off-guard by the bell man. Kronin hits the large man with a big axe handle smash right in-between the shoulder blades.
Scott Slade: Oh! Kronin not wasting any time here! He is really taking the fight to Brock!
Kronin turns Abishag around and then begins kicking him in the midsection before whipping him into the turnbuckle directly across from him. Abishag hits the turnbuckle hard knocking the wind out of his lungs in the process. Kronin sprints at him and hits him with a huge splash that causes the whole ballroom to erupt in cheers. Kronin doesn’t waste a second as he grabs Abishag by his huge right bicep and heaves the big man back into the turnbuckle they started the match in. Abishag again hit’s the turnbuckle with incredible force as Kronin once again pounces on the big man with another massive splash crushing him up against the turnbuckle.
Chris Rodgers: My god what’s gotten into the Kraut tonight?
Scott Slade: It’s obvious he knows he’s got to give it everything he’s got tonight against this monster of a man if he wants to win! He’s not giving him even a chance to breathe in there!
Dr. Summeroff is screaming at Abishag like crazy as Kronin flings him into the turnbuckle diagonally across from them once again. Abishag hits the turnbuckle for a third time with his backside. This time the big man hunches over and drops down to one knee. Kronin takes advantage of the opportunity and sprints at Abishag again, this time nailing his large torso directly in the collar bone region with a mighty spear that chops Abishag down like a tree. The impact silences the fans at first and then they launch into a deafening flurry of a roar as Reinhardt gets to his feet and sign language motions to the fans a cut throat expletive expression.
Chris Rodgers: No! No! No! What is going on tonight?
Scott Slade: I think, YES! He’s going for a Sharp Shooter! This could be it! It could be over right here for Abishag!
Kronin grabs both of Abishag’s extremely large legs and crosses them between his left leg before flipping him over and applying pressure on his lower back and knees. The big man screams in pain, fighting to break the hold, clawing at the canvas like deranged wolverine, but he is too far away from the ropes to escape the German’s submission hold.
Chris Rodgers: It’s over! I was dead wrong! Abishag is finished!
Scott Slade: Wait what is his manager is doing!
Suddenly Dr. Summeroff rolls the crystal amphora towards Abishag and he grasps it with his right hand and desperately open’s it while fighting the pain and trying desperately not to give up. Abishag commences consuming the liquid and when he reaches the chunk of Blob’s mass inside the container he opens his mouth and begins chewing it before swallowing the rancid flesh. The smell coming from Abishag’s mouth and the amphora is putrid and the fans in the front row of the arena begin to grow sick from its stench, some even vomiting from it. Even Kronin is flustered by the robust odor, but his focus on the smell is broken when Abishag flings him off of his legs using only his brute strength.
Scott Slade: What the hell? Abishag has broken the Sharp Shooter! Incredible!
Chris Rodgers: What the hell did he just eat? It smells like Sardines and sewer waste!
Abishag gets to his feet and begins to pop his neck and crack his joints like a wild beast preparing for a violent confrontation. Kronin gets feet and runs at Abishag clobbering him with three consecutive shots to his jaw with his right hand. Abishag shakes them off like nothing and returns fire with a giant hay-maker that knocks Kronin all the way back into the ropes of the ring. Abishag then runs over and grabs Kronin wrapping both his hands around his neck while he is still dazed from his punch and lift’s him high into the air before slamming him back into the center of the ring.
Scott Slade: Whatever was in that container, it seems it’s ignited Abishag into a frenzy!
Chris Rodgers: Bath Salts! He’s a God damn drug addict! We need to drug test man immediately!
Kronin tries to get to his feet, but Abishag is on him straightaway and he kicks him right in the gut before securing his head between his legs. Abishag lifts both his arms high in the air and lets out a roar while beating his chest like a gorilla as the fans boo him ruthlessly.
Scott Slade: He’s going for a power bomb!
Chris Rodgers: Can he get him up though? Kronin is a large man!
Abishag wraps his arms around Kronin's waste and lift’s him high up on the air and slam’s him hard onto the wrestling mat backside first. Kronin's head hits the canvas with extreme whiplash and the impact knocks him out cold.
Scott Slade: He’s done it! Abishag with the cover! ONE! TWO! THREE!!! Abishag wins!
Chris Rodgers: This man is using performance enhancers! Who knows what was in that jar!
Scott Slade: That’s up for Ultimate Wrestling management to consider, for right now, Abishag is 3 and 0 in Ultimate Wrestling!
Chris Rodgers: Wait a minute someone’s coming through the crowd! Who the hell are these freaks?
While Abishag is celebrating his victory in the ring, two mysterious looking men make their way over the guard railing and into the ring with Dr. Summeroff who has gotten his hands on a Microphone. Both men are dressed in monk robes and the only difference is the masks they wear on their faces. The one on the left of Summeroff is wearing an all-white mask and the other a mask in the image of Cthulhu from Lovecraft’s mythological literature. Kronin lye’s unconscious on the mat behind them as Dr. Summeroff begins to speak to the people watching at home and fans in the arena.
Dr. Summeroff: You people disgust me more than those barbaric infidel Jesus loving freaks from the south! At least they believe in a God! Look at all of you smug start up Tech assholes with your blind faith in science and your atheism! You will be the first to die when his holiness returns to us in his full form!
*The fans boo Summeroff relentlessly and they start to chant “Jackass” which only further infuriates the cult leader.
Scott Slade: For once Chris I think you might be right, I think these guys are on drugs…*
Chris Rodgers: Someone shut off his microphone! We can’t allow this sort language on the air! We’re going to lose all of our sponsors!
Dr. Summeroff: As for the rest of you dimwits in the costumes who are using their parents trust funds to pay their $3’000 a month rent! I have to congratulate you all! I’m honestly blown away that any of you could even get yourselves dressed this morning so good on you for making it to the show tonight!
The fans continue to boo until someone start’s to chant “Kronin” and everyone else in the ballroom joins in with him. Kronin is still lying on the mat, but is beginning to stir around a little bit after being absolutely thrashed by Absihag. The chant seems to infuriate old man Summeroff and he snaps at the fans harshly.
Dr. Summeroff: Oh don’t worry! We haven’t forgotten our German friend here! You see we are the followers of the Great Chilean Blob! We are here to spread his existence and his word and to offer him sacrifice! Buzi! Abandon! The Blob demands the blood of a German!
Scott Slade: Oh no! Come on now! The man’s been beat! Leave him be!
Chris Rodgers: They can’t be reasoned with Scott! They're all on bath salts! Don’t do drugs kids or you’ll end up like these idiots!
Without hesitation the Cult of the Blob commences stomping away on Kronin with no remorse for their actions. It’s not long before the big German is a bloody mess. Suddenly the fans begin to cheer and roar as Davey-Boy O’Brien rushes down to the ring area and slides into the squared circle. He immediately clotheslines Dr. Summeroff dropping him to the canvas.
Chris Rodgers: What is that little nut job doing? He’s going to get himself killed!
Scott Slade: O’Brien coming to the help of Reinhardt!
When the others realize what has happened to their elderly leader they instantly go after O’Brien. The three members trap him in the corner of the ring and beat on him for a good 5 minutes before Abishag lifts him up into the air in a Gorilla Press and chucks him over the ring post and hard onto the floor to the astonishment of the fans. Abishag quickly picks up Summeroff off of the mat and the Cult rushes him into the back for medical attention. EMT’s rush out to help the two men crippled at ring side as the camera cuts away to the announce table.
Scott Slade: Fan’s we apologize for this insanity! We’re going to cut for commercial break and hopefully get O’Brien and Reinhardt treatment for their injuries.
Chris Rodgers: That and our main event is up next! Don’t touch that remote!
SatovsValora.jpg
The live feed returns and the cameras are focused on Chris and Scott.
Scott Slade: Fans! I'm being told that Kronin and O’Brien have been rushed to the hospital and that the Cult is nowhere to be found backstage.
Chris Rodgers: I’m sure they're out on the street scoring bath salts. Let just hope the Euro trash they roughed up can get back on their feet for next week!
Rich Relando: Ladies and Gentlemen! The following match up is a win by knock out only!
“Bring IT” by Trapt hits the sound system and Valora Salinas walks out onto the stage with the Franchise title draped over her shoulder. It’s clear from the moment she steps onto the stage that Valora is not herself and that her walking patterns are off. The fans chant her name in a frenzy as she makes her way down the aisle trying not to stumble and fall. She tries to slap a few high fives with the fans, but whiff’s multiple times in the process almost smacking one unlucky fan in the face.
Scott Slade: Rose Johnston reported Valora was irritated with President Mudcock for forcing her to defend her title twice in a 30 day period.
Chris Rodgers: She also reported that Valora seemed paranoid and that she was claiming Rupert attacked Ivan Stricker last week which is all fake news and fabricated lies! Maybe she’s been buying bath salts from Abishag!
Scott Slade: I… don’t remember that part of the article.
Chris Rodgers: Scott I didn’t know you could read. That’s a real achievement for such a special young man like yourself.
Scott Slade: You want to fight old man?
Rich Relando: Making her way out onto the stage now! Hailing from Los Angeles California! Weighing in at 155 pounds and standing at five feet, nine inches! SHE IS THE ULTIMATE WRESTLING FRANCHISE CHAMPION! VALORA SALINAS!
Once inside the ring, Valora climbs up to the top of the far right turn buckle, and holds her Ultimate Wrestling Franchise Title up into the air. The Egyptian Orb gleams in the ballroom lighting reflecting out into the fans eye sight blinding them sporadically. The fans roar and continue chanting her name all during the process. Valora then loses her balance and falls back into the ring mat on her back.
Chris Rodgers: What the hell is wrong with Salinas? She looks like she’s been drinking all night! I’ve heard she's had past issues with alcoholism, but this is ridiculous and seriously unprofessional!
Scott Slade: I uh.. I don’t... this is very strange fans. I’ve never known Valora Salinas to not be able to hold her liquor or even drink before a match.
Chris Rodgers: That’s it! I’m going straight to Mudcock and demanding full drug testing of the entire roster!
The camera’s cut away from Valora and Takuma Sato walks out to a nice response from the crowd as “Something to Believe in” by Off-Spring starts to play over the audio equipment inside the venue. Sato is dressed in a traditional white Karategi and black belt. The fans excitement however dims as Sato walks out looking in worse shape than Valora.
Chris Rodgers: Good God! It’s an epidemic! The entire roster is trashed!
Scott Slade: Something isn’t right here! This is very unlike Sato!
Rich Relando: Her challenger! The master of the heart punch! Hailing from Detroit Michigan, weighing in at 195 pounds, and standing at a height of five feet, nine inches! TAKUMA SATO!
Sato manages to climb up the steel steps and enters the ring. However while attempting to bow to Valora standing across from him he almost falls over losing his balance and catching himself barely in time. The fans cheer when Valora bow’s back in respect of her opponent and his culture. The bell sounds and the match begins with the two opponent’s circling one another clearly trying to shake off the effects of the drug circulating in there system.
Chris Rodgers: Well here we go! I’ve been waiting all week to watch these two knock the crap out of each other!
Scott Slade: Both fighters seem off their game tonight and are moving slowly however. Not sure if were going to get the match we were hoping for Chris.
Valora is the first to attack with wild swinging hay-makers that Sato drunkenly dodges barely keeping himself on his feet. As Valora turns around Sato attempts a round house kick, but misses Valora completely, and ends up falling flat on his face on the mat. The fans look on confused as Valora jumps on Sato and locks him into a headlock. The two struggle on the mat like a couple of preschoolers fighting at recess and this struggle goes on for a good five minutes.
Chris Rodgers: What on earth are these two doing?
Scott Slade: Fan’s I apologize! I have no idea what the hell is going on here.
The fans begin to boo due to not getting the match they were expecting to see. Eventually Valora breaks the hold and stumbles over to the ropes and hunches over them with her hair draped over her face. Sato gets back to his feet pulling himself up with the help of the ring ropes and he runs over to Valora and tackles her over the top rope causing both of them to fall out of the ring onto the floor. The two fighters lay on the floor hardly moving when suddenly from out of the mass of fans Walter Reagan jumps the guard railing and starts attacking both Takuma Sato and Valora Salinas. The referee calls for the bell ending the match due to outside interference.
Scott Slade: We got a deranged fan out here attacking Valora and Sato!
Chris Rodgers: Wow what a pathetic Franchise Champion! A crazed fan can beat her up! What a joke!
Scott Slade: Wait a minute! I recognize that man! That’s Rupert Mudcock's body guard!
Chris Rodgers: Who? Scott are using bath salts too? Why would our boss have a body guard attack his wrestlers? That doesn’t make any sense my friend.
Walter pushes the bellman out of his chair, folds the chair up, and unleashes a series of chair shots on the backsides of both fighters. The fans grow unruly and begin throwing trash and beer bottles at Walter as he goes under the ring and pulls out a table left behind by the Ultimate Wrestling ring construction crew. He sets the table up and then picks up both fighters laying them out on the table.
Scott Slade: My god what is he doing!
Chris Rodgers: He’s going put them both through a table!
The big 325 pound Walter climbs up onto the ring apron and shouts a bunch of absentees at the crowd before leaping off of the ring apron and crushing both Takuma Sato and Valora Salinas through the table down into the floor under his massive weight.
Scott Slade: This is an all-out assault! This isn’t a wrestling match! This is a clear cut attempt by Rupert to end both these fighters’ careers!
Chris Rodgers: You’re nuts you know that? Rupert would never do a thing like that!
*Scott Slade: Fans our hour is almost up but perhaps the rumors of Rupert Mudcock having involvement with Sato’s manager Ivan Stricker’s attack last week may have been just validated publicly!
Walter gets to his feet dusting the wood chips off of his clothes and spits on both Sato and Valora before walking away from the attack untouched by security with a sinister smirk on his face. It’s clear the Mudcock has given clear instructions that Walter is not be touched. As the credits roll Abbigail Dresden and the EMT workers who looked absolutely exhausted rush out to help the two injured fighters sprawled out in the aftermath of the attack.
Ultimate Wrestling will continue…
|
|