Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7

Recorded Earlier

The scene opens to the early hours of Sunday morning in Essex County just as the Spring weather has started to warm the day and your olfactory receptors are on overload, but East Orange New Jersey has been known to occasionally kick-in the gag response.

Whether you're assaulted by whiffs of the gritty metallic air, festering trash, stagnant water or just the smell of those less fortunate it most certainly provides a rich and varied experience for commuters.

A pocket of pigeons perched on the near shingles and paint peeled, pitiful, excuse of a porch roof of the residence of 159th and 17th Street scatter at the sounds of the approaching symphony of Bridgestone Ecopia tires squealing to a sudden halt, and the slow escaping hiss of decompressing air brakes of an armada of Tractor Trailers.

Exiting the emanating, emissions of torched trichomes and Prime Time tobacco from the endless array of idling semi Mack Truck trailers emblazon with the “Greenberg and Gruenberg” company crest of the two Attorney’s arrogantly high fiving, is the ever expanding entourage and delegates of The A-Team’s empire.

The injured and irate, intellectual, institution known as Ira Greenberg orchestrates the gathering of goons while doing his due diligence to maintain his dapper demeanor despite the dislocated and disjointed dimensions of his fractured forearm.

Ira ascends the ashwood, sun stained, porch step by step still trying admirably to maintain astute appearances, dressing in Armani down to the sling that not only secures and stabilizes the second of stress fracture sustained by soldiers of The A-Team in as many weeks, but also supports a thesaurus thick ledger of his legalities.

Looking at his own disheveled likeness leering back reflected in the glare of tempered glass, Greenberg gasps momentarily before bustling about with his bald spot and blasting his breath with a few quick clicks of Binaca Wintergreen Breath Spray.

Now ready to ruthlessly ruin the residents day, Ira relentlessly rings the rusticware doorbell with the righteous recourse of his one good hand.

The Kimberly Bay screened porch door slowly swings open in succession with the sounds of a series locks and latch clicks followed by the slow screech of the rusted steel springs stretched to their limits.

Seizing the opportunity, Ira tucks a gator calfskin, Testoni, dress shoe between door casing and threshold assuring it remains ajar.

Ira Greenberg:
Evelyn Frost-McGee?

Evelyn: Yes, this is she.

Evelyn: And you might be?

Evelyn evaluates the exquisite looking gentleman before her genuinely good maternal manners manifest.

Ira Greenberg:
Ira Greenberg, Attorney at law.

Ira Greenberg: Evelyn, you and I are both aware of the facts.

Ira Greenberg: Defaulting on a mortgage loan is one of the most serious, traumatic and life changing events that could ever, and I mean ever, possibly happen in someone’s life.

Ira Greenberg:
You know...To be homeless is a tough pill to swallow.

Ira Greenberg: Especially on the streets of New Jersey, am I right?

Ira Greenberg: I mean look at the filth out there?

Ira Greenberg:Your sons really let you live here?

Ira Greenberg: Looks like a place my best clients would work out of.

Officially offended, Evelyn is at a loss for words and is taken aback at the aptitude and arrogance that she is be addressed with.

Ira Greenberg:
You have fallen over a full three months behind on your mortgage, which is well past the established and agreed upon extended waiting period determined by all parties and that includes yourself Mrs.Frost-McGee

Evelyn: Defaulted?

Evelyn: I,don’t understand, I write the check the first of every month!?!?

Evelyn: I have never been late on my notes, not one day! This isn’t right and you know it!

Evelyn finally saturating the severity of the situation sobs uncontrollably shaking her head side to side.

Ira Greenberg:
Signed and dated affidavits don't lie Evelyn, and the auction was closed at 8:15 this morning.

Evelyn: I, never signed anything!

Evelyn: That was not me!

Evelyn: I told you I always pay my bills!

Evelyn: Let me call my bank!

Ira Greenberg: Im sorry Evelyn, whats done is done.

Evelyn falls to her knees hysterically, head in hands in a sobbing storm of snot and tears.

Ira Greenberg:
You had your chance and these documents declare that in black and white.

Ira Greenberg: As I said there were warnings and my employers even extended a grace period despite certain... Infractions.

Hinting at his handicap

Ira Greenberg:
As legal representation and counsel of both the lender and the board, I have drawn up the new deed of trust and proper documentation to convey ownership of this property formerly owned by Evelyn Frost-McGee, to the new group of trustees.

Ira swings his sling street side showcasing the source of her sorrows.

Looking up momentarily from the lake of tears that poured into her palms to a legion leaving waste to what was once the front lawn of her home that now is in a state of scorched earth consisting of uprooted pink flamingo stakes, lawn gnomes and a freshly planted foreclosure sign, Omar Gibbs, Mez Murdock, Herschel Dunny and Felicia Anna-Cruz Escobar ensure that the eviction ensues.

Having worn out her welcome, Evelyn is ejected from The A-Team’s acquisition in F.A.C.E fashion, with a fistful of Felicia’s french manicured nails latching into Evelyn’s locks and launching the little lady of the porch like a lawn dart.

The Camera pans to the announce team!




The Camera pans to the announce team!

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The Camera pans to the announce team!



Cameras go backstage to the loading dock area of the parking lot of the arena. As we make our way past the rows of semi trucks, we come to a stop and turn, where we see Majin sitting on the pavement, leaning back against one of the tires on the trailer of a truck.

He has has arms draped over his raised knees, cigarette in one hand. As we move closer, without looking at the camera, staring at the ground between his legs, he begins to speak.

"Matsuda,...Devil,...whatever you wanna call yourself,...tonite I end this."

Majin raises his cigarette and takes a long, deep, drag. He raises his head up, leaning it back against the tire and stares up towards the dark sky, exhaling the smoke through his nose.

"Since Ive been back in OCW I have played with you and toyed with you. I should have beaten you at Wrestlution when I had the chance, but I wasnt finished with you yet. And since Wrestlution,...since your..."

Majin closes his eyes and laughs to himself.

"..."victory"...over me...you think that that puts you on the same level as me."

Majin raises his cigarette and takes a drag. He holds for a moment then exhales. Majin then turns and stares into the camera with a wild, demented look in his eyes.

"Matsuda...DEVIL,...you will NEVER be on my level. You see,...DEVIL,...I HAVE danced with the devil under the pale moonlight."

Majin smiles a sick sadistic grin.

"And DEVIL,..."

Majins voice gets soft. Almost a whisper.

"Im still here."

Majins head twitches. His eyes get wide for a split second as the sinister grin flashes across his face before he laughs to himself.

"Last week,...Devil,... you cost me a match with Bobby Minio. And after the match you tried to burn me alive. But unlike most people,...that doesnt bother me. You think playing mind games with ME will work? Did you think that would make me scared of you? Did you really think you were gonna send ME to hell?"

Majin smiles as he shakes his head. He hits his cigarette and motions over his scar covered face from his many battles and wars in OCW.

"Look at me,...DEVIL. Ive BEEN to hell. Ive fought the best that this company has had to offer. And every single one of them have left their marks on me. Do you really think that you can do what so many others have failed to do?"

Majin smiles as he stairs into the camera. His voice gets soft again. A whisper.

"Do you?"

Majin suddenly laughs out loud. His deranged laughter echoing through the nite between the parked semi trucks.

"Matsuda,...DEVIL,... you may consider yourself the,...Final Boss. And you might just have been that over the past 8 years. But do you know why that is?"

Majin smiles as he hits his cigarette. He holds then exhales through his nose.

"Let me tell you. Its because I wasnt here. You see,...DEVIL,...while you might just be the FINAL Boss. Me,...Im the cut scene that plays just before the game ends. AFTER you beat the Final Boss. Im the guy that lets you know that there is one more,...even BETTER,...STRONGER,...than the Final Boss. The guy that you have to wait to fight till the next game comes out. I'm who you see after the credits roll."

Majin smiles and laughs to himself. He hits his cigarette one more time, holding then exhaling through his nose, before he flicks it away under the trailer in front of him.

"Matsuda,...DEVIL,...its been 8 years. Its time YOU and everyone watching tonite is reminded just who I am. Its time that the..."

Majin chuckles to himself.

"...Cut scene,...character from the last game,...your game, where you were the Final Boss,... continues the story. Your game is over,...DEVIL. Tonite,...Hell in a Cell. And do you wanna know something,...Devil? After all the battles,...all the wars,...that Ive been through here in OCW,...tonite,...is my first time in a cell. And you know what,...DEVIL?"

Majin smiles and whispers.

"Im looking forward to it."

Majin laughs as he rolls over onto his knees. He then slowly starts to stand.

"Matsuda,...DEVIL,...I dont want your Title. Ive already had it. I want the match tonite to be Non-Title so that tomorrow morning, you WILL realize that the only reason youre still the OCW Ex. Division Champion...is because I allow you to be."

Majin smiles as he faintly laughs to himself.

"Just like Ive said all along. Matsuda,...DEVIL,...youre not on my level. You never have been and you NEVER will be. Ive only let you think that you were."

Majin laughs as he begins walking backwards away from the camera.

"Matsuda,...DEVIL,...you think youre gonna send me to hell tonite? Think again. You think youre the DEVIL now? Well,...DEVIL,...tonite I send you home."

Majin softly laughs to himself as he continues to walk backwards, never taking his eyes off of the camera. As we begin to fade, we see Majin stop as he reaches the rear of the truck trailer.

"Matsuda,...DEVIL,...welcome to my mind. Welcome to..."

Majin smiles his psychotic grin with a sadistic look in his eyes.


Majin then turns and disappears as he walks behind the trailer out of view. Before we fade out we can hear Majins laugh start to echo through the nite once more.

The Camera pans to the announce team!

This one is going to tear the roof off I can just feel it!

Someone's gonna visit the hospital!

Leon is fighting for Cody Storms soul!

The Monster isn't going to let go of it with out a fight!


3 Stages of Hell aka The OCW APOCAYLSPE MATCH!

Leonheart vs The Monster

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The Camera pans to the announce team!


SAVAGE LANDS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The camera fades into Drago's dojo, where he is hitting a speedbag in the corner. He starts out slow and then he speeds up gradually, eventually slamming the bag with a thunderous right hand.

He looks back to see Bubba and Baby Bubba laying on the couch, enjoying an episode of Scooby-Doo. Drago looks around and walks to a nearby closet. He opens the doors and pulls out a cardboard cutout of Nathan Carter. Drago calls both of the lions over to show them something.

Drago Cesar: You see this? This is Carter Nighthawk. Very danger in certain situation! Bubba, if he approach you, what would you do to defend yourself?

Bubba walks over to the cutout of Carter and his mouth reaches over to Carter's leg and he looks over to Drago. Drago tilts his head.

Drago Cesar: Hmm........Good, but perhaps not ideal. Baby Bubba, what would you do?

Baby Bubba walks over to the cutout, and appears to be slightly afraid of the figure, taking a step back. Drago approaches the young lion.

Drago Cesar: Don't be afraid!

Baby Bubba takes a step toward the cardboard cutout and after a few moments, he lunges toward it and bites the figure's paper crotch.

He snaps it off and spits it out. Drago and Bubba look on in amusement. Drago pats Baby Bubba on the head as the young lion walks back towards his companion. Drago then lays down on the floor and has the cutout stand over him.

Drago Cesar: Baby Bubba had very good idea, but crucial point of facing Nighthawk is that he get very excited easy. You want to make him think he have advantage, because then he make mistake!

As Drago is in the supine position, he throws a net at the face of the cardboard cutout of Carter, which results in his paper face melting. The rest of his paper body soon follows. Drago stands back up.

Drago Cesar: See? This is how you make Nighthawk able to be capture! Now, who wants to go for hunt?

Bubba and Baby Bubba roar in approval. Drago laughs as he walks off, with the lions following suit. The feed fades to black.

The Camera pans to the announce team!

The Greatest North American Champ of his era is ready!

SUCK UP!, he has 2 pet Lions THIS IS ILLEGAL, won't someone think of the children????


Jacob Trance vs Dennis Black

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Marathon sesh, they went tooth and nail.

Boom outta here!