OCWFED.com Presents Riot





The camera pans to the announce team.

Ladies and Gentleman we are back on the scene with RIOT 537

We got a great show for you tonight!

Telos’ music hits, and the crowd roars as he returns to the ring. The man walks down the ramp, avoiding looking into the crowd. He makes his way around the ring, demanding a microphone before climbing in.

Standing on the apron, Telos removes his suit jacket and hangs it gently on a turnbuckle. He looks toward the stage and signals the sound crew to cut his music.
He waits for the jeering of the crowd to stop before speaking.

Telos: At this point in time, you could say I've developed a….history, if you will, here in OCW.

Telos: A history of being violent. A history of being the “bad guy”. But, to be quite honest, I don’t give a damn what the OCW universe or anyone backstage thinks of me.

The crowd boos Telos as he paces around the ring.

Telos: That being said, I’ve tried to tame myself, in order to better myself. You see, I held onto a few grudges. Those grudges held me back.

Telos: I’ve let myself get distracted by those with their own agendas. Those distractions held me back. So I said, no. No, something has to change. Maybe not with those around me, but something within me.

Telos tilts his head backwards, eyes closed while the arena processes his words.

Telos: I changed the way I moved, I changed the way I operated. I’m no longer doing things out of malice or some garbage sense of entitlement.

Telos: I’ve put myself in a position to accomplish my goals. And I’ve done so without any grudges.

Telos: Without any distraction. Keeping my head down, and moving forward, like a good old company boy.

Telos: Now, I’m trying really, really hard to continue that trend. Let me tell you what’s making that difficult for me.

He leans against the ropes, taking a deep breath.

Telos: We have a champion, who believes that he isn’t a part of this OCW hierarchy.

Telos: Bobby Minio, if you let him tell it, is a king without a crown. A monarch with no throne. While I’ve sat here and watched his reign with the Pride Championship, he whines about not being in good favor with his boss.

Telos: I’m not looking to be Sensation’s favorite. I’m not looking to be your favorite.

Telos: What I am, is SICK of asking. I’m SICK of being passive. I want, and will have, the Pride Championship. All I need is a chance.

Telos: And that’s the difference between Minio and myself. Me? I come out here to let you know that all I want is a shot at glory.

Telos: Him? Goes out on the company’s biggest stage talking about a glass ceiling….when he’s the damn glass!

Telos looks out at the crowd and shakes his head in bewilderment.

Telos: Is that what’s acceptable in OCW now?!

Telos: A champion, crying about not being featured on a goddamn poster?

Telos: I look around at the faces in this arena, full of women, children and men who will never know what it’s like to have either, and I wish I could say I was surprised.

Telos: I don’t know who needs to talk to Bobby, but I know he needs to hear this.

He faces the hard camera, pausing to make sure he is heard.

Telos: Minio, I know you’ve had that strap on your shoulder so long that it’s weighing you down.

Telos: And that’s okay. All reigns come to an end, and I’m more than happy to assist with your transition back into mediocrity. But hear me:

Telos: You are NOT the ‘One Man Revolution’ anymore. That time has come and gone, and the sooner you realize that, the less painful it’ll be when I come to get that strap off you.

Telos moves toward the corner and places his jacket across his arm. He throws the mic back ringside and walks up the ramp as his music plays.

The camera pans to the announce team.

God dam!

I've never seen this side of Telos! YESSS YESS!!!

The scene opens to the arena parking lot a black 69’ Impala pulls up… and out emerges the Afro growing Puglist Tre Golden. He has a determined look on his face as he makes his way towards the locker room.

He quickly walks past the OCW staff stationed in The hallways, Golden sets his ring gear down as he arrives at the door labeled CORT MARSHALL.

Golden tries to grab the door handle… when a hand reaches out and grabs his wrist.

Golden looks up and sees the biggest security guard on staff….. Hank. 

 I can’t let you in there Tre.

Golden: Hank, I just want to talk to him, things might get heated, but you know I always keep my business to the ring, I get paid to fight for Crowds of people, I don’t too it to often for free.

Golden flashes a smile.

 Now I want to believe you, but I can’t.

Golden: Don’t worry it will be alright, I promise you.

Hank: No Tre I can’t, Cort slipped me a little on the side to make sure you don’t get in this room tonight, and seeing as it’s my job to prevent incidents… and I have children to feed, I’m going to make sure that happens.

Hank reaches for his nightstick and pulls it off of his belt.

 No hard feelings

He swings the nightstick at Golden, who easily dodged the strike by just leaning slightly back, Hank loses his balance and pitches forward.

Golden jumps on him quick, wrapping his arm around Hank’s neck in a Guillotine Choke, Golden squeezes on the neck, while pushing Hank up against the wall.

Hank goes out in seconds, Golden puts him down gently against the wall in a sitting position.

Golden walks over and opens up the door, and he enters into an empty room with Cort Marshall nowhere in sight.

 Don’t worry Cort, I’ll be seeing you.

Golden leaves and fetches his ring gear to get ready for his match as the scene fades to black.

The camera pans to the announce team.

That illegal!!!!!


A backstage scene would appear with Nicholas Maximus mid-interview with none other than Jim Black. The two discuss the latest events within Archer Academy, a similar take on a reality tv show

Jim Black:"So Nicholas Maximus, Let's talk about the last match between Benjamin Moore and Damian Bourne. Would you like to give a quick review?"

Nick: He got his ass kicked! Done..

Jim: "Okay… So Benjamin Moore is your opponent for tonight. What do you think will happen in the ring tonight?"

Nick: We’re about to have a decent match for Master Archer’s Academy. I..

A man would arrive within the camera frame to be reviled as Benjamin Moore himself.

Benjamin Moore:
"Nicholas Maximus, The mungo dog for Archer.. You ready to enter the ring with me?"

Jim Black would stand there in silence because he knew from past events that he doesn't like much of the roaster of OCW and Benji was one of the many upon that last.

 Ah. Benji, my man. Yes sir, yes I am. 

Benjamin Moore:"You'll regret it when we be done.. Archer should of came himself instead of sending his mutt to rump with me."

Benjamin walks away, bumping his shoulder to Nick's as he adjusted his coat and makes his way towards the locker rooms.

Jim Black looked at the camera in shock at the encounter before the scene goes black

Well hot dam its next!

Wha Gwan match tings, right now!

It's a Match!

The camera pans to the announce team.

Holy hell!

I mean DAMN!

A quiet corner of the backstage area open up the scene, the camera panning down the concrete corridor in search of the segment’s subject.

The words of someone in the distance echoes through the cavernous hallways, the words impossible to make out but the tone is unmistakable, they are frustrated.

The camera begins to move down the hall, turning a corner into a side room revealing the source of the sound. The reigning Pride Champion and One Man Revolution, Bobby Minio, splayed out on the floor with a foam roller under his legs. He’s attempting to warm up for tonight’s main event, but something is wrong.

Bobby Minio:
 Goddamn this thing!

He attempts to use the foam roller again but keeps hitting some sort of snag in the process causing him to pause mid-roll at his thigh level.

He attempts once more, hitting the same snag, before he rolls to his knees and grabs the foam roller with both hands, loading it back overhead and smashing it down over the back of a folding chair, resulting in an echoing “thunk” sound, which leaves a noticeable dent in the surface of the roller.

Bobby Minio:
 I don’t know, it’s just… somethings wrong. The muscle is locked tight, every time I hit that point it just feels like… like… GODDAMNIT!

Again, he reels the roller back overhead and smashes it over the chair, but he does not stop, another smash, followed by another smash, followed by another.

Gray chunks and flakes of foam begin to rain down around the scene of the crime, and the dent has quickly evolved into a deep gash, a chasm in the surface of the once solid foam. Minio’s head snaps towards his Pride Championship, draped over the back of another folding chair nearby.

Bobby Minio:
 No, no! I know it’s not “mental”, it’s NOT in my head. At least… I think I know it’s not in my head...

There is a pause as he listens again. 

Bobby Minio:
 Yeah, fair good point I realize you… this… is in my head, but… Wait… you know what? How about you just shut the **** up? 

Bobby Minio: No, I didn’t need your commentary when I won you, and I sure as shit don’t need to hear you now! Enough of this!

His eyes narrow, his shoulders rock forward, something audible only to himself really stung. He replies, his voice low, quiet.

Bobby Minio:
 shut up.

At first.

Bobby Minio:

It escalates.

Bobby Minio:

He explodes into motion, into violence, as he launches from his kneeling position and grabs the Pride Championship, he’s holding it up to his face, without even realizing it he’s growling through gritted teeth. He growls out another command through his locked jaw.

Bobby Minio:
 Stop it. Stop it right now.

His body begins to relax, his muscles resigning as his eyes drift shut. A defeated tone piggybacks on a single uttered word.

Bobby Minio:

He steps back, draping the Pride Championship over the back of the chair again, his head dropping lazily down parallel with his shoulder line.

Taking this opportunity to escape the insanity, the camera man begins to slowly back out, continuing to watch the Pride Champion stand solemnly in front of his tethered responsibility. The camera pulls back around the corner, before the scene fades back to the ring-side area.

The camera pans to the announce team.


Bobby has gone mental, its official!

The scene is pitch black as all we can hear is footsteps. Two feet plant themselves apart and a baseball bat is soon seen swinging pendulum style. Zooming back, Odon Klein is revealed dangling the bat with one hand.

Klein: One by one, the targets arise, and one by one they are eliminated. You see, this is what I do, this is the creed that I live by.

Klein: Leo Grimm declined me of the opportunity to eliminate yet another target. Normal people would forget and move on, but I'm not a normal person and these aren't normal circumstances.

Odon's eyes look down, focusing on the bat as it swings side to side.

Klein: Leo, I don't think you understand how drastic the situation is now between you and I.

Klein: I gave you the opportunity to utilize my services as a professional and you decided somewhere in your convoluted mind that you're better equipped for the job.

Klein:I see that as a challenge, Mr. Grimm, especially when you are a crusader that chooses to try to do the handiwork of the grim reaper himself, seeking some sort of 'deliverance'. But what you and the rest of the OCW roster will soon realize...

Odon's eyes blink and he is now looking with cold eyes into the camera.

Klein: ...is that I am the deliverance!

The camera pans to the announce team.

Strong words!

You dam skippy, hippy!

Previously Recorded

”Dant-dant-dant, Dant-dant-Daah” is a very familiar sound bite known round the world. It’s SportsCenter! The camera cuts to every bar, restaurant, home and random people on the street looking at their ESPN+ notification on their cell phones.

Cari Champion is standing by to broadcast an exclusive event.

For one night only, SportsCenter brings back a feature we haven’t seen in awhile called, “Off The Top Rope”. It’s usually hosted by a familiar name from a different wrestling promotion.

Cari: BUT...OCW is the hottest wrestling promotion in every far region on this earth. So tonight, I’d like to introduce our host for “Off The Top Rope”. It’s a very familiar name of The OCW brand, Mr. Charles Scaggs. Pleasure to have you here.

The camera switches over to Charles.

Thank you, Cari. Pleasure is all mine. On this latest edition of “Off The Top Rope” I like to welcome via satellite from his home; A former OCW World Heavyweight Champion and I would like to say he’s a very good friend of mine, Mr. H-2-O!

H2O: Hey Charles! What’s up?

A side by side view of Scaggs and H2O are on the screen. Scaggs smiles to see The Good Light back into his friend.

Harvey, it’s quite evident that we see you back to normal. Given the history of your career, are you really mentally stable to take on new challenges?

H2O: As I stated on Turmoil, I’m ok. No, seriously, I'm ok Charles.

H2O: Drago reminded me that there’s another way to be in this business. It takes a weak person to be mean, angry and pretend to do what they want.

H2O: But it takes a strong person to be viciously humble and ready like The Best In The World Drago Cesar.

Scaggs: So would you say you’re mentally prepared to make a run for The OCW World Heavyweight Champion Doc Green?

H2O: Absolutely! No offense to any of Doc’s fans but he’s not worthy of being “Head Superstar”.

H2O: I disrespected my fans or shall I say, my Ocean of Paradise, by giving him the reigns of something I worked hard to achieve.

H2O: Speaking of giving reigns to someone.

Scaggs: I was just about to ask you what about B17. You gave him the reigns of being “The Future OCW World Heavyweight Champion”.

Scaggs: You just said in a roundabout way that you want to make a run to become champion. What does this mean for B17?

H2O: H2O likes B17. But I made another mistake by giving that name to him. With all due respect he had his chances….

The camera cuts to just Charles Scaggs for a quick moment. He presses down on his earpiece to listen closely to his crewman behind the scenes.

Sorry to cut you off, Harvey. We have a disturbance here in our studios in NYC.

B17 comes into the camera shot with a headset on and walks behind the desk of where Scaggs and Cari are sitting. B17 knocks over the scripts laying on the desk as Scaggs rolls back in his seat to get away from B17.

Carl excuses herself from the confrontation and B17 gives Scaggs an ice cold stare.

Diet Coke! This taste disgusting! Get me some Fiji Water!

B17 fumbles with the mic as he positions it on his head.

Chances? Chances? H20, your entire career is based on failing to capitalize on chances. Just two weeks ago you were moping around because you screwed another chance away.

B17: While you've been drowning in your ocean of discontent I've been riding the waves, carried by the love and affection of The B Community. Can you blame them? Look at me.

B17 unzips his vest too reveal his abs.

I'm carved by the gems of the Earth. Mount Rushmore would be lucky too have me.

H20 chortles and now there’s a split screen that shows both B17 and Harvey Ocean.

Oh….oh, you need more proof. You want Doc? Fine. Your fans don't realize what they are missing out on by not cheering for me. But when I beat you in two weeks they will have no choice but to accept that I'm just better and they've made mistakes!

H2O: B17, you mentioned all the chances I screwed away. But just like most of the boys in the back you forget about the chances I didn’t screw away.

H2O: One of the chances was winning The OCW Lightheavyweight Championship against a man, no a legend that said he was better than me.

H2O: No matter how you slice it with your B Community, just tell them history ALWAYS repeats itself.

H2O: The Bingo Bomber says he’s better than me.

H2O chortles once again.

Well then H2O is more than willing to teach you a history lesson.

B17: Get your ass back in NY, Harvey.

Scaggs cuts in quickly as B17 stares down H2O on the big screen.

Well that about wraps it up ladies and gentlemen. From our studios in Manhattan we say to you good night and we’ll see you at The Garden!

The camera pans to the announce team.

I think you did well!

Don't patronize me, Charles!