I can't wait but its not about Riot 500, no its about Riot 489 right now and we got a killer show for you tonight!
The Camera Pans To The X-Tron
For the first time in over six months, Pugh is standing in the centre of an OCW wrestling ring and the crowd seem pleased to have him back.
He’s holding a microphone and surveying The World’s Most Famous Arena, looking corner to corner, focusing on the front row - eyeball to eyeball with some of the most disgusting people on the planet.
He takes a look at the ring posts and sighs.
Pugh: Are these really necessary?
He saunters over to the corner and points to the video board which hangs from the post. A smile comes across his face as he perches himself on the top ring rope.
Pugh: ...it’s strange to see what this place has become isn’t it? 50 feet screens, massive lighting rigs… what happened to wrestling? Ma’am…
He pops down off the top rope and rolls to ringside, focusing on a middle aged woman who is sat front and centre with her two kids. All three are dripping with OCW merchandise as he parks himself in front of them.
Pugh: Are your boys enjoying the show lady?
He holds the microphone to her mouth for her to answer, as the two boys are screaming next to her - going out of their mind that such a legend has decided to grace their presence. Before she can answer, he pulls the microphone away.
Pugh: Of course they are - they’re animals. Look at them… hell look at you. You feeling fancy in your Invictus shirt? A Bill Ding hard hat? ...and look at that - is that a B17 wig kid?
The kid nods at him
Pugh: ...and tell me - who’s your favourite wrestler son?
Before he can answer, Pugh snatches the wig from his head and throws it to the floor. He throws a few stomps on it before hocking a huge loogie onto it.
He smiles at the appalled mother as the fans begin to boo. He bends to the floor to lift up the wig and places it straight onto the child’s head - loogie down.
Pugh: ...you’re welcome - I made your son famous.
She slaps him across the face and he immediately bows his head. A grin crosses his face, which then breaks into a chuckle, ending at a full blown laugh in the lady’s face.
Her sons are both noticeably upset as Pugh returns to the ring - a small melee starting behind him as fans scream abuse in his direction.
As he arrives back in the ring, the whole building is starting to boo him, a reaction that he wallows in - that he lives for. He returns to his feet and begins addressing the hard camera.
Pugh: ...In my day - they sold shirts to these scumbags, not overpriced tat. Now that was a long way to go to make this point, but I’m going to continue anyway, because this is something you all need to understand.
The boos continue to radiate as a classic half smile cuts his face
Pugh: ...When I went part time in OCW in 2015, I left a touring professional wrestling company.
Pugh:
A Worldwide sensation, putting asses in seats from Kentucky all the way to Katmandu… and by the time I walked back in for a full time run last year, I found myself somewhere else.
Pugh: I found myself walking into a regional wrestling company with a weekly TV schedule.
Pugh:
No houseshows, no money - no growth. I walked into a place that was covered in style… sizzling like a steak… shining like a diamond in a goats ass… but houses and viewership in the goddamn toilet.
He grins as the fans boo
Pugh: ...I came back for a payday and you know what I found? I found a locker room full of marks. A barely full arena.
Pugh:
Fifty title belts and not a single Champion in the goddamn place. This is a crippled OCW. A Parody of the place it used to be… and why?
He pauses while he takes in the atmosphere for a second
Pugh: ...****ed if I know… and that right there is the problem. When OCW was a touring company on network television - I would be fined for saying ****.
Pugh:
Now we’re on a streaming cable channel I can say whatever the **** I want… a damning indictment of what this place has become… but that’s taking me away from the point.
Pugh:
My point is… let me explain why I’m here.
He rubs his hands together and drops his sunglasses off his face
Pugh: Rewind to the end of last year, Chill Faktor 2017. I’m sat on my ass watching the show from the comfort of my own deck in Los Angeles and I found myself asking a strange question - a question I’d never asked myself in 10 years of being involved with this company and another 15 being in this business...
Pugh:
What happened to the soul of professional wrestling?
He stops again, waiting for a reaction from the fans, and he’s greeted with a mixed one to say the least.
Pugh: We’ve got full light shows - hell people are wearing lights on their goddamn masks, on their shoes, on their tights!
Pugh:
People are out here dressed as B-Calibre Comic Book heroes while fighting for the OCW Title - the biggest and the most important title in this sport… and all to pop their best buddy in the back.
Pugh:
Somewhere along the line OCW went from being two men settling issues in a 20x20 wrestling ring - a legitimate sport… to a joke.
Pugh: ...To Cirque De Soleil with cosplay and entitled jack offs who march out of “team” meetings when they’re critiqued in any way shape or form.
Pugh:
Cartwheels where there should be chokeslams. All style. No substance… all to pop each other. And get them out of the ring and put a microphone in their hand?
Pugh: Well they’re gonna stand out here exposing the business. They’re making in jokes to their friends backstage while standing in front of 10000 people… instead of trying to entertain the 10000 people that should be their captive audience… and it’s all my fault.
The fans boo him again
Pugh: Yes… fans. I have to apologise because every single piece of mediocrity and shit that you’re subjected to on a weekly basis all started with me. Cosplay?
Pugh:
I fought Smythe in 2007 dressed as Superman. Flips? I was doing 450 splashes before TKF had dropped out of the same extra chromosome.
Pugh:
Lights on clothes? Check my jacket at Lution 8… the same show where I invented the insider promo in OCW… the less we say about that the better huh Jay?
Pugh: ...and as for being a primadonna World Champion? Well ask Jacob Trance about his rematch clause.
He begins to pace the ring, clearly gathering some sort of momentum.
Pugh: So why do I bring this up? Well it’s two fold really. First fold is simple.. I’m kinda poor right now - so taking huge chunks out of the current “stars” paychecks will do nicely but the second part is way more complex - houses are down and this place needs a ****ing hero.
Pugh: A guy who sold out Lution 10 with his own bare hands. A guy who made Riot 350 the most watched episode of any network Wrestling show in history.
He pauses.
Pugh: A guy who singlehandedly saved OCW from extinction in 2015 when he convinced Sensation to man the **** up and kick this place back into overdrive.
Pugh:
I’m not here to kill OCW, I’m not even here to save it.
Pugh:
I’m here to course correct. I’m here to steer this place back to its roots and create an atmosphere of excellence once more….
Pugh:
No more participation awards. No more repeated stories - of boring people doing boring things to other boring people.
Pugh:
I’m here because I’m the most famous professional wrestler on this planet…
Another pause punctuates the piece as the crowd wait with baited breath
Pugh: ...and I’m Wrestling’s Last Hope…
With that, he places the microphone into his back pocket and poses for the crowd as his music starts up. The fans again illicit a mixed reaction as the former World Champion continues his pose into the commercial break
The camera pans to the announce team.
Well damn!
The Biggest Mouth in OCW is back! is OCW prepared?
The camera pans to the announce team.
14 Days!
I can't wait!
Jim Black: Listen to me, this guy is a freakin’ monster! I never seen nature create such a specimen. He travels light and travels alone.
Black: I mean he’s pretty tall and man lemme tell ya, he’s solid.
Crew Member: Jim, we’re live.
Jim quickly gathers himself for the interview.
Black: Good evening! I’m standing in front of the door of OCW’s newest arrival, Tyson “Cyborg” Wagner. He’s scheduled to fight another new arrival right here tonight, Rust Cohle.
Jim Black knocks on the door and the sound of two ferocious dogs dashes to the door. Jim Black jumps away after hearing what’s on the other side of that door. Then Cyborg lets off a loud whistle.
Cyborg: KING…KONG! (voice muffled)
Jim Black looks back at the cameraman and whispers.
Black: King? And Kong? Let’s get out of here.
The door opens as soon as they were about to leave. Standing in the doorway is a 6’8” 300 pound specimen. To each side of him sits two beautiful and insanely looking dogs. A voice of God bellows out from this man's lungs much like Ving Rames.
Cyborg: If you make this quick then I’ll make it painless. What is it?
Black is terribly shaken as all the excitement leaves his body and exchanged with fear.
Black: Lovely pitbulls you got there, Tyson.
The two dogs, King and Kong, growl at Jim after that comment.
Cyborg lowers his shades and readjust his gauntlets. Black takes a few steps back even more after noticing a big scar and loss of pigmentation of his right eye.
Cyborg: Friends call me, Tyson. Take a look around. You see anyone?
Jim Black shakes his head “No” and even the camera shakes “No”.
Cyborg: The name is Cyborg. These two are American Bullies. They’re all the friends I need. Don’t ever call them a pit again if you know what’s best for you. That’s an inferior breed.
Jim shakes his head “Yes” along with the camera.
Cyborg: My time is limited. So if you’re a man of any importance you can tell me when’s my match?
Black: My name is Jim Black, Cyborg. You’re up first against Rust Cohle?
Cyborg: I could care less who it is. Just leave my check with King and I’ll retrieve it when I’m done with this guy.
Cyborg: Kong, get my gear.
Kong runs into the room and grabs his owners head gear. Cyborg takes it from him and puts it on; making him look like Predator from the movie. He pats his dog as a sign off doing a good job. He and his fellow friends walk away to the stage area.
Crew Member: That’s a man of a few words.
Jim Black whispers.
Black: Did you see his freakin’ eye?! He is a monster.
Cyborg’s voice is heard from afar.
Cyborg: I heard that. King...Kong...EAT ‘EM!
You can hear the dogs menacing growl as their dog chain rings the air as they barrel towards Jim Black and the cameraman.
Black: Everybody...RUN!
The camera drops to the floor as you see King ‘N Kong racing down the hallway and jump over the camera. Screams and barking is all that is heard as OCW rolls to the match.
The camera pans to the announce team.
RUN DENEGA RUUUUUUUUUUUUUUN!
DOGS ARE NOT ALLOWED ON OCW PROPERTY!
The camera pans to the announce team.
8 Indy and former OCW Stars clash in a brutal tournament!
The Winner will be the OCW KING OF HARDCORE!
All 3 members of the Sanctuary turn to look at the door as they here a scratching noise, just as a note is slid under the door, Pyra raises from her seat and makes her way over to collect it, opens the door and looks back and forth down an empty corridor before closing the door and going back inside.
Crowe: What is it?
Pyra: Another note...another bloody black spot.
She holds the note up, and old ink blot marks the back of an otherwise blank page, on the reverse side a message.
Pyra: '3 of us each will meet at the cross, to exchange the treasure not to be lost, a whiff of treachery or a trap, the mutineers will burn beneath the beard of black'.
Winters: Great...more nursery rhymes...
Crowe: It changes nothing, we stick with the plan, agreed?
Winters and Pyra both nod.
Crowe: Good, it's time to end this crap, tonight.
All 3 continue to get ready and continue to go over their plan.
The camera pans to the announce team.
THE GAMES A FOOT!
ARRRRRR! You know what? TREASURE FOR EVERYONE!
But mostly for me!!!
Tyson Wagner vs Rust Cohle
The camera pans to the announce team.
What a battle!
You said it!
As Riot continues, the viewers are treated to Cort Marshall, dead center in the ring, with a clipboard in his hands.
Charles Scaggs: Oh god, here we go. Do you have any earplugs, Al?
Big Al: You shut up and let the man speak!
Cort soaks in the negative atmosphere for a bit before beginning to speak.
Cort: I understand what happened on Turmoil made a lot of people very… unhappy.
Cort shrugs and smirks.
Cort: Don’t look at me like that, folks! I didn’t enjoy it either. It just broke my heart to take all these young, promising stars… and break their faces!
He laughs.
Cort: Okay, maybe I enjoyed it just a little. But we didn’t do it for a good time, no, no.
Cort:
We’re not that shallow. The thing is, OCW is full of doubters. Full of people who think they’re the second coming of Jesus Christ and Karl Gotch combined.
Cort:
We had to make a statement. To prove that we are a threat to the established pecking order.
Cort: So really, rookies; as you sit in the hospital, or at home, wondering if you’ll heal up good or limp for a few years… don’t blame me.
Cort:
Don’t blame The Crown! Blame the Powers that Be. Blame all the old-school hustlers and snake oil salesmen who make up the ranks of this company.
Cort:
Blame the fools and the liars and the cheats and the THIEVES, my friends… they made us do it.
Cort:
Besides, it’s not like you were going to make it very far in OCW without someone trying to ruin you. It’s just that we do it to your face… not behind your back.
Following this, Cort raises his clipboard up towards the camera.
Cort: But that’s enough of the past. That’s enough broken tables and broken spirits. Because tonight is a very special night for all you wonderful fans of OCW.
Cort:
Tonight I am delighted to present... an officially-sanctioned ruleset for safe and modern competition in OCW, written by yours truly and overseen by your king, Dennis Black.
Cort: And of course, any member or associate of the Crown is deemed immune to these rules, as we are the only ones in this company who can be trusted with ANY sort of responsibility.
The crowd boos as Cort clears his throat.
Cort:Rule number one... no flippy crap.
Rule number two: Throwing people over the top rope will result in a fine.
Rule number three: No closed-fist punches.
Rule number four: Ricky “The Dragon” Ragnath is to be barred from competition until he proves he can wrestle without killing anyone else or himself.
Rule number five: Going to the top rope will result in a fine.
Rule number six: Rookies will not speak until spoken to. Except Sheperd.
Rule number seven: Kassidy Hayes will submit to tests for performance-enhancing drugs and/or the blood of supernatural beings before and after every match.
Rule number eight: Kicks to the head are banned.
Rule number nine: All competitors must show timestamped video evidence of holding the tag ropes during disputed tags postmatch. Failure to verify that will result in a fine.
Rule number ten: Any brawling outside the ring will result in a fine.
Rule number eleven: Foreign objects shall be deported.
Rule number twelve--
Just then, someone's music hits…..
…..Samsin Simsin!?
Samsin: You talk about all these rules... rules to prevent you from getting your ass kicked!
Samsin:
As a rookie I got nobody on my side to protect me. I gotta fight my own fights and take my own falls. That's something you could learn about.
The crowd cheers in appreciation for shutting Cort up.
Samsin: When your little group attacked the Turmoil locker room last week, you tried to put a lot of people out of action. People who didn’t do anything to deserve it.
Samsin:
People who could probably beat you post-to-post if you had the guts to take them on one on one! Before now, I had no beef with you.
Samsin
But I want to make sure you know us rookies won’t put up with this. I'll tell you right now... you made a mistake pissing me off. Pissing us off.
Cort: What do you want, rookie? How dare you interrupt my list!?
Samsin: I want a match! If you’re here to take everybody on like you say so, you better be willing to do it. I am going to do to you what Kassidy Hayes did on last week’s Riot!
Cort: Shut it, small fry!
Samsin: If I were you, Sergeant… I’d watch my back.
Samsin points behind Cort, who slowly turns to look--but there’s nobody there. Samsin laughs.
Samsin: See you later.
With that, Samsin mockingly “salutes” Cort and drops the mic and proceeds to walk to the stage, leaving a pissed-off Cort to exit via barricade.
The camera pans to the announce team.
Samsin do you know what your doing! They have an army!
