OCWFED.com Presents Riot

   

SEASON 17 INTRO HOOT!


LIVE FROM THE BARCLAYS CENTER

The camera pans to the announce team.

Ladies and Gentleman we are back on the scene! With RIOT 586!

Let's get strange!

It's a Match!

ROOKIE DEBUT
CHANCE WILLIAMS
vs.
JORDAN TRANCE

The scene opens up inside of the renowned NYC steakhouse, Royal 35 Steakhouse. The cameras move around the quiet, dim lit, restaurant to a nearby table where a familiar face of Giuseppe Feinstein is seated. Feinstein has a wine glass on the table as coming into the restaurant are Derek Smith and Stephen McCallum.

The host greets the two men as Feinstein makes his way up to them.

Feinstein
: No worries pal, they’re with me. Thank you though for being extremely kind to my friends.

Feinstein slips a $100 bill into the host's shirt pocket as he takes Stephen and Derek over to their table.

Feinstein
: Stephen! Derek! Boy is it great to see you two here. And Derek! My boy! What an encapsulating victory you had on Turmoil! I always knew you’d make me proud.

Stephen starts glancing over the menu as he notices nothing on the menu has a dollar amount. His eyes grow wider and wider as he lets out a nervous chuckle.

Stephen
: I don’t think I’ve ever eaten this fancy in my life. Sensation just doesn’t pay us enough...

Derek opens up his menu and immediately closes it and puts it back down

Derek: Feinstein, this place is so expensive they don’t even have the prices on the menu! I get you’re trying to look out, but I don’t want to break your pockets. I would've been cool if we went to Applebee's, Chilis, hell even Mcdonald's. I can chip in on the bill if you need me to.

Feinstein looks at Derek with a confused look on his face as he takes another sip of wine.

Feinstein
: Well excuse me, Mr. “I won a few matches, I don't need Feinstein now!” Some manners you have!

Stephen: As much as I agree with you about Mr. Smith’s manners; I don’t think I know HOW to order food from this place…

Feinstein puts his finger up to Stephen showing “one moment” as he then turns around and snaps toward a waiter.

Feinstein
: Oh waiter!

The waiter walks over diligently and welcomes the table with a smile.

Waiter
: Yes sir, how can I be of service?

Feinstein smiles as he begins listing off many things to order.

Feinstein
: Yes, I would first like to order two Caesar salads, one for me, and one for Stephen over there. Young Derek over there is a growing lad we need to bulk him up. He’ll take the beefsteak tomato & mozzarella.

The waiter keeps writing down the order.

Feinstein
: Then for my entree I will do a prime bone-in ribeye, with a jumbo baked potato, and also a porterhouse for two!

The waiter pauses, looks at Feinstein for a moment, and shakes his head subtly as he continues writing. He looks over to Stephen after he’s done writing.

Waiter
: And for you sir?

Stephen: I...am overwhelmed. Do you have any…vegan dishes? I’ve switched to a strictly vegan diet after Summercide 2020.

Derek: Since when?

The waiter once again gives a pause.

Waiter
: Sir… this is a fine dining steakhouse… I, I uh I think the chef could prepare you an impossible branded steak?

Stephen: That would be great, as long as it's not too much trouble. Thank you!

The waiter finishes writing the order and walks off to put it into the kitchen. Feinstein looks over to Stephen as he finishes taking a sip of wine.

Feinstein
: So tell me, you have this extremely promising academy. Who other than Mr. Smith is involved in it?

Stephen: Who’s involved? Sheesh. Well, my other head coach is Austin Lee. A Turmoil legend. My students are plentiful. Christian Garcia, Jasmin Kaffee, Harris Turner, Chance Williams, John Carter, Marcus McMichaels, and Alyssa Marceaux. OH! How could I forget? My adorable nephew, Jordan Trance.

Feinstein: Wow. That is quite a bountiful roster you bolster over there. Now let me ask, do any of them pay any sort of membership, maintenance fee, or any form of financial commitment?

From a smile to a grimace, Stephen lets out a nervous cackle.

Stephen:
Well you see, Mr. Feinstein...no. I honestly just didn’t think that far ahead. In fact, I’m certain I’ve been operating at a loss. A huge one.

Feinstein: Mr. McCallum, you do know we can’t have that correct? After all, if GOAT Academy were to cease operations, then what would happen to all the students? All the staff? No, no, not while I’m here. Not on my watch!

Stephen: I appreciate the concern, but I’m not quite sure I can accept any form of money from someone I only just met. However, I think I’m willing to listen to any ideas you may have. My partner, Austin Lee, kind of just lets me handle everything, and I am NOT business savvy.

Feinstein leans forward and looks sharp into Stephen's eyes.

Feinstein
: Listen, Stephen, I’m sure you’ve heard about me, who I used to work with, and I get it. Seems a bit sketchy, how come this guy comes back all of a sudden and just wants to help?

Feinstein: Well to be honest here with ya boss. It’s not a coincidence, I let that man beside you slip between the cracks. It took far too long for Derek to smell singles gold, and glory far too long!

Feinstein leans back in his chair as he hunches down to the side and grabs a medical looking folder. He slides it onto the table for Stephen and Derek to grab.

Feinstein
: I came back to sorta clear my name in a sense. Derek? He’s money, he’s greatness waiting to explode. That’s why in that folder you’ll find there’s no such nefarious things with Derek that those are rumored to be.

Feinstein: Secondly, think of this as an investment. For you, your students, and for Derek. Every month I will ensure GOAT Academy runs at a gain and profit for you. And all I want in return is you keep doing what you’re doing for the next generations of OCW.

Stephen turns his attention to Derek before responding to Feinstein.

Stephen:
And what do you think, Mr. Smith? Do you think we can trust this man right here? I’ll go off of your word.

Derek: In my honest opinion, I trust Feinstein, with how much he helped me when I first got here. I trust that he can help out GOAT Academy.

Stephen: Okay. That settles it, then. Mr. Feinstein, welcome aboard.

McCallum extends his hand across to Feinstein for a firm handshake. Feinstein shakes his hand as Stephen grips his hand and it hurts Feinstein a bit. Feinstein sits back down and raises his glass.

Feinstein
: Absolutely wonderful Mr. McCallum. I’m glad you have decided to give me this opportunity.

The cameras pan away from the table as the three men continue talking as waiters come out with plenty of plates of food and drinks.

The scene opens to the heavy click-clack of tough and rugged ,”Duty Boots” issued by OCW to all of its security members reverberating throughout the crude and concrete confines of Madison Square Garden’s Security Checkpoint and Intake Center.

Ushered in by a duo of OCW’s most imposing and most senior Security staff members, its newest commodity and “Cannibal of Kobe”, Hito-Gui has once again made his way to American soil.

Every talent acquisition is interviewed and screened by OCW’s case management team, as well as both their medical and mental health units for risk assessment.

Security 1:
This program will provide you with an introduction to all aspects of OCW and the behavior expected of you before we clear you to begin work.

Security 1:Now you are going to put your fingers in the Live Scan here one after the another.

One by one each finger rolls across the neon green, glowing, glass of the portable scanner with a ding signaling each scan's completion.

Security 1:
Registering your fingerprints is a given, but we got orders for DNA and retinal scans for you and that “thing” of yours you got arriving from overseas.

Security 1: For security, safety and sanitation reasons, staff will limit the amount of personal property allowed beyond this point.

Security 2: Strip down.

Creating a disheveled pile of discarded clothing consisting of nothing more than the OCW issued jumpsuit and black rubber slide, a bare Hito-Gui is directed through the large rectangular shaped archway of the “Garrett” walkthrough metal detector unit.

The shrill, squeal of the detector’s siren signaling detected metals, sends the staff in a scurry to secure the intake.

Security 1:
A foreign object has been detected internally. Step behind the yellow line to the restricted area!

Security 2: Open your mouth and lift up your tongue!

With the utmost trepidation and the ever persisting thought of Hito-Gui’s fondness of flesh the security detail does his best to steady the unpredictable tremors of each digit, as they cautiously navigate the arsenal of canines and incisors.

Thankful to still have all five fingers, the security detail exhales slowly before discarding a small razor blade into a steel collection bowl with ding.

Security 2:
No need to make that gamble twice, take the DNA swab from his razorblade and twist tie his wrist together.

Security 2: No telling what this guy will try and pull.

Security 1: Now, look in here and let’s get this over with.

Security 2: You're giving us the creeps.

With a mounting unease and an urgency to hurry the intake along, Security soon begins to take liberties with the now restrained Hito-Gui.

Each with a hand behind the scruff of the neck of Hito-Gui like a disobedient dog, security situates the Retinal Scanner in each socket of Kobe’s least favorite son’s skull, finally completing their database and catalog of “The Kobe Cannibal” Hito-Gui.

Having stomached enough of the Americans the unchanging solemn expression of Hito-Gui contorts to grotesque a vile veneer.

What the security team didn’t know, is that Hito-Gui was not interested at all in the fact that security was just doing their job. What he wanted was revenge for their transgressions now that he has officially been cataloged, cleared and on OCW's payroll.

Slowly a sound started to build in Hito-GUI’s stomach. A strange and ominous sound. Like a log truck coming at you 100 miles an hour.

Without hesitation, Hito-Gui’s jaw gapes wide almost to the point of unhinging, and before Security could even react to their horror, pints of putrid, puke, pour over their being.

Stumbling to all fours the duo bellow a wail no grown men should ever be able to fabricate as their night and our scene fades to black with the thump of Hito-Gui’s Punt Kicks.

Hito-Gui:
Konichiwa Motherfucker!

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