OCWFED.com Presents Riot

   

Johnny Millionaire: Jerome, Jerome, Jerome! Where the heck has our special guest gone!? You know, the MEGA STAR we advertised this whole time!

We cut in to Johnny Millionaire, pacing furiously around the middle of a lively Beach Spa and Resort. He moves amongst the crowd looking for Jerome and eventually finds him.

Johnny:
Jerome, finally! Please tell me you know where our special guest has gone.

Jerome: What do you mean we ain’t got no special guests!

Johnny: Yeah, well Harvey’s gone now. His PR guy told me to meet him in the exotic suite for about half an hour ago and he didn't show up! I was in there, alone, for 45 minutes!

Jerome: Alright, no Harvey ain’t too good but don’t worry big fella! We got plenty more guys lined up!

Johnny: Yeah, but who? Who could possibly live up to the greatness and stature of somebody like Harvey Hamlin Ocean! Everybody knows his name! We’re screwed Jerome, I tell ya, screwed!

B17: I believe you were looking for me, Jerome?

Jerome smiles and winks at Johnny, who’s eyes have gone wide.

Jerome:
As I told ya’, I’ve got it covered. Yeah Mr. 17 I was lookin’ for ya’ cuz I knew my boy Johnny was gonna kick up a fuss when he found out that H20 no showed! So I was wondering if you could be our guest of honour, we need to send these customers home happy, ya dig?

B17: Guest of honor you say. Well that does sound lovely. Heroes do love honor and helping others is what heroes do.

Johnny: Mr. 17, Johnny Millionaire, it is a pleasure to finally meet you! Big fan of your work, I’ve been following for years! I loved everything you did with the wig! And the B community, oh my I own that big poster you made with the cactus and the two pink flamingos, could you sign it for.. Never mind.

B17: Yes. The Wig.

B17’s face turns dark as he remembers a part of his past that nearly consumed him.

Johnny: Ah, sour memories? Don’t worry about it big guy, we all have skeletons in our closets.

B17: Now, what do you really need? Is there a damsel in distress? A skyscraper on fire? Innocents that need to be smuggled out of New York? Tell Bingo. My sidekick and I will happily assist.

Johnny passes Bingo another drink and the two head off, continuing their conversation as the camera cuts to the bar, where Kareem Franklin is sat, discussing with an obscured figure at the moment.

Kareem: Listen, all I’m gonna tell you is this: my track record speaks for itself! Jerome Hamilton: the ORIGINAL Real Deal, the man went undefeated for almost a year. Johnny Millionaire, the man can captivate a crowd by doing a damn chinlock! And together, they took part in the craziest Tag Team Title match in years! You sign with me, I can guarantee that you will finally reach your potential that everybody knows you have!

The camera pans left and reveals FloJo, sitting at the bar across from Kareem. She looks highly unimpressed.

FloJo: Cool story, bro. What else? You had one stand out match...Let’s see you do that again.

Kareem: That’s where you’re wrong! Every single match my boys have stand out, Consequence, Turmoil, Riot, it don’t matter! Under my guidance, I can get the best out of each and every client… even if they suck when the stakes are at their highest!

FloJo: Tuh. Bye, have a good night.

Kareem: No, no wait! I didn’t mean it I swear!

Kareem attempts to stand up and try and get her attention again, but it’s already too late. Flojo disappears into the crowd, leaving Kareem sitting at the bar by himself.

Maxx Edwards:
And another one bites the dust.

Maxx pats Kareem on the shoulder and takes a seat on the other side of him. He slides Kareem a shot but Kareem leaves it on the side.

Kareem:
Damnit, I almost had it!

Maxx: It's okay, no one has a golden gun, everyone's bound to miss.

Kareem: Damn that’s kinda facs! Thanks, Jerome, I always know I can count on you in these tough times… wait a minute, you ain’t Jerome!

Maxx: Do you know who I am?

Kareem looks around nervously before fixating on the shot glass.

Kareem: Yeah… of course… you’re that hollywood guy! Oh wait, we have two of them… never mind.

Kareem raises his shot glass and downs it.

Kareem:
You know what, you’re right! It’s about time I loosen up. All this business talk tonight weighing me down real bad! We got the main show comin’ up real soon and the last thing my boys will want me to be is a damn Debbie downer! Thank you, Mark!

Maxx stares into the eyes of Kareem as he blankly stares back

Maxx: It’s Maxx.

Kareem: Same thing! Jerome! Johnny! Where you boys at!?

Kareem dances off as the scene fades to black.

It's a Match!

FEMME FATALE FATAL FOUR WAY
ASHLEY MOORE*
vs. LOTUS FLOJOA
vs. TERRA DATURAS
vs. MARISSA WELCH

Previously Recorded

As the Locke & Key logo fades from the screen, the scene fades in to an outdoor storage facility, the camera flying overhead to show the different storage lockers before panning over to Colin Locke and El Parca.


Colin: Hello ladies, gentlemen, everything in between, and family pets, it’s been a few weeks, but, once again, I am excited to welcome you to… Locke & Key!

Colin’s declaration of ‘Locke & Key’ reverberates repeatedly as he opens his arms dramatically. This reverberation goes on for about ten seconds while Colin and Parca look at each other awkwardly, waiting for the endless echoing to stop.

Colin: … Yeah, I’m not gonna do that again. But anyway!

He once again addresses the camera.

Colin: I’m here with the guy who’s still got two belts, El Parca, and he’s in for his first storage lot opening, Parca, how are you feeling right now?

Parca: Awe man I’m pretty excited! Colin, my friend, it is an absolute honor to be here with you man!

Colin: Ah, it’s great to have you here, and I’m sure everyone at home’s excited to see you too!

Parca: I’ve never done this sort of thing before y’know, just been all about FIGHTING. So I’m really pumped to see how today goes!

Colin: It’s gonna be great, trust me.

Colin turns to the camera and continues;

Colin: I already know all you guys watching trust me, we’ve not had a bad lot yet. Come on, let’s go, we’ll walk and talk.

The camera follows Parca and Colin from the front as they start walking across the lot.

Colin: This is going to be a special opening because, while, as usual, I don’t know what’s in the lot, I kind of have an idea. Over the break, I realised that I really wanna give this wrestling thing a proper go, so I got my guys to find a unit that would show me what I’ve got to do next to be a bit better at it, I’m really excited.

The two come to a stop outside a unit, and from outside, a metronomic, metallic banging noise can be heard. Colin lets himself have a little cheeky smile as he begins to sing…

Colin: Snape. Snape. Seeever-

There’s a jarring camera cut that cuts Colin off completely, and once the camera is cut, the two are in roughly the same position, but Colin looks a little dejected, he’s slouching a little, and there is clearly disappointment in his voice when he says;

Colin: Apparently I can’t do that bit, we needed to book extra time for a musical number.

Parca: That’s disappointing, who doesn’t love themselves some song and dance?

Colin: But either way, we’re here, there’s a mysterious banging noise, so it’s time for everyone to get their phones out, because as soon as I say go, you’ve got ten seconds to tweet @ColinLocke with your best guess as to what’s in there. Ready? ... Go! Parca, as you’re here, what do you reckon’s inside?

Parca: Surely it has to be the Fighting Machine 9000.

Colin: Oh what, I didn’t even realise that there were eight-thousand-nine-hundred-and-ninety-nine fighting machines, I need to catch up. And speaking of catching up...

Colin looks at his watch, taps it, and looks back to the camera, rubbing his hands together and almost bouncing with excitement.

Colin: Right, I make that ten seconds. I hope you’ve got your guesses in, as always, there are no prizes, because we’re gonna open this lot up! Parca, would you like to do the honours?

Parca: This is going to be my favorite part!

Parca lifts the shutter door, and a harsh golden light emanates from the open shutter, an angelic choir accompanying the opening of this mysterious lot. Colin’s jaw drops as the banging stops, the camera zooming in on his face dramatically.

Colin: The Last Blacksmith?! I need to face you to become a better wrestler?

The camera pans to show the inside of the lot. Inside is a large anvil with a poorly shaped piece of molten metal limply hanging off it, and sat at the anvil is a young, skinny guy with dark blonde hair, an embarrassed grimace on his face, and a hammer with no head in his hand.

The Last Blacksmith: Hey, guys, cool camera set. Erm. Could you, er, help me find the head for this hammer? It fell off when the choir noise played, I might have been a bit surprised by it.

Parca: That’s not him..

Colin: What? Nah, look at the sign above his head.

Colin points to something slightly out of the camera’s view. It pans upwards for a moment to reveal a golden, plastic, light-up sign with ‘The Last Blacksmith’ on it. The camera pans back down, and Colin takes a brave step forward.

Colin: So, I trust my guys on this, and so to become a better wrestler, I’ve gotta challenge you, so I challenge you, The Last Blacksmith, to a fight at Turmoil.

’The Last Blacksmith’ looks surprised. He quickly glances left and right before gingerly placing his hammer back on the anvil (burning his hand on the metal in the process) before making a vague ‘put em up’ gesture, looking more like he’s doing a bad Popeye impression than an actual fighting pose.

Colin: He doesn’t look very difficult to beat. Didn’t he fight you recently, Parca? I expected better.

Parca: This isn’t him, Blacksmith is a totally different guy.

Colin: What? Hey, you, put ‘em back down a sec, I think something’s gone wrong.

Colin gestures ‘The Last Blacksmith’ to put his fists down and thinks for a moment.

Colin: You’re not The Last Blacksmith?

’The Last Blacksmith’: Yes?

Parca: Nope.

Colin: I feel like Parca would remember if you were The Last Blacksmith. Right, let’s figure this out, why do you think you’re The Last Blacksmith, how did you become The Last Blacksmith?

’The Last Blacksmith’: Oh, well, that’s how I got that sign up there! You can check on The Official Blacksmith Registry, I just started the job about an hour ago, no one’s started blacksmithing since me, so, yeah, I’m the last blacksmith.

Suddenly, Colin puts it all together, and his eyes widen, finally having figured out what’s happening.

Colin: Right! I get it now, you’re the last blacksmith…

’The Last Blacksmith’: Yep!

Colin: … But you’re not ‘The Last Blacksmith’.

Parca: No.

Colin: … I’m gonna call you The Most Recent Blacksmith.

’The Last Blacksmith’: Yeah, that’s The Last Blacksmith.

Colin: Nah, that’s a wrestling guy with facepaint, you’re The Most Recent Blacksmith.

The Most Recent Blacksmith: That sounds far less impressive.

Colin: Alright, so you may be The Most Recent Blacksmith, but I’m challenging The Last Blacksmith right now, and that is an official thing that I’m doing.

Colin turns to Parca.

Colin: Parca, you fought the guy, what do you reckon, what am I in for? Is he any good at wrestling, or can I just sleep for most of the week or what, I dunno.

Parca: Don’t let him get you anywhere near a table, any sort of dangerous height, weapons are a super hard pass. He also likes to stomp your head into the ground.. So I’d suggest trying your best to not let him get a hold of you.

Colin looks at Parca blankly for a second.

Colin: You mean to tell me that we’re allowed to stomp people’s heads into the ground? What.

Parca: Have you ever seen an OCW match? It’s more so what we’re NOT allowed to do.

Parca pats Colin on the back and lets out a small chuckle

Parca: But hey, don’t worry about it! You’re gonna do fine you did so well in your debut that you’re gonna be an imposing threat to this locker room my friend.

Colin: Thanks, Parca, that does mean a lot. Man, getting stomped? I hope the guy’s not heavy, or wearing platform shoes or something, that’s gotta be illegal… Eh…

He thinks for a moment, clearly imagining some sort of John Travolta in Battlefield Earth looking mega chonk wrestler booting his head into the floor. Colin gives a subtle wince before shaking himself out of it quickly, getting back to his regular self and addressing the camera with the sort of flair usually reserved only for quiz show hosts.

Colin: The challenge still stands! I said whatever the lot says goes, and what the lot says goes, so, everyone, we’ve gotta set up the cliff-hanger and ask ourselves a few things. Will The Last Blacksmith-

The Most Recent Blacksmith: That’s me!

Colin: -No it’s not, accept my challenge? Have I made a serious mistake, and might I end up digging my head out of the ring after getting stomped? Will our UK viewers be able to get decent odds on me properly yeeting that guy across the ring on Turmoil on Betfred? Well, all of those answers, for now, we’ve got to keep them… You ready Parca?

Parca & Colin: Under Locke & Key!

Colin and Parca’s shout reverberates again, with each reverberation getting louder this time.

Colin (Shouting over the noise): Damnit! Have a good week everyone!

The scene fades out as Colin and Parca look around, trying to figure out how to turn the reverb and delay off on the camera crew’s mixing board.

 

THE CAMERA PANS TO THE X-TRON

Johnny: You have a what now?

The camera suddenly focuses on Johnny Millionaire and TY Sparks having a conversation in the parking lot of the Beach Spa and Resort.

Sparks: 
A match. A light heavyweight title match, actually. And I, uh, kinda gotta go soon.

Johnny: Alright, alright, let me think...

Johnny looks perturbed for a moment, pondering what to do for his temporary staff member. The soft trundle of a small car can be heard off screen, his attention moved by it, before he cracks a smile.

Johnny: 
Good news! We’ve got you covered son, you’ll be travelling in style to the Barclays Centre in our very own luxury private limousine service, the only way the Millionaire Brigade knows how.

Sparks: That’s amazing , Mr Millionaire, but where’s it at? I need to go now or I’ll be late.

The camera pans over to show a lonely silver Dacia Sandero pulling up in one of the empty spaces. A woman steps out, larger in stature, bearing a striking resemblance to one Johnny Millionaire.

Johnny: 
Sparks, say hello to your personal chauffeur for the evening, Mrs. Millionaire herself! Now if you’ll excuse me for a moment…

Johnny takes a small Millionaire Brigade sticker and places it on the front passenger side door before opening it.

Johnny: 
Et voila! Your chariot awaits, good sir, your $18.71 for the evening's work will be deposited in your bank account by this evening. And, uh, good luck?

Sparks confusingly looks at the car before reluctantly stepping in, then the two drive off hastily, Johnny waving as they go.

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