Page 2
Page 3
Page 4
Page 5
Page 6

Not too long after Matsuda's match against Bobby Minio for the Unification of the Ex-Division Championship and the Hardcore Championship we pan back to the OMG locker room. All the clownshells have left the vicinity, the only people in the locker room are Tiberius Dupree and Madeline Osiris.

The birthday decorations are nearly all torn down after Tibby threw another tantrum. The tandem sit waiting for Matsuda to arrive with his glorious present. Every two seconds Tibby looks down at his watch.

Dupree: What the frack, his match ended ages ago, where is he. Why does the whole freakin' world have to revolve around him. I'm sick of it!

Madeline: Calm down, I'm sure there's a reasonable explaination.

With those words there's a knock at the door. A scrawny man wearing a ups style uniform with a "T" logo enters.

Telegram Ted:
Hello I'm Ted from Ted's Singing Telegram, and I have a singing telegram for a Mr. Tiberius Dupree?

Dupree: I'm Dupree, but I didn't order...

Before Tibby can finish, Ted starts to sing.

Telegram Ted: 1....2....3...4....Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday Dear Tibby, Happy Birthday To You!

Dupree: It's not my freakin' birthday, and your about a hour late for the surprise party Ted.

Telegram Ted: There was more too it but I couldn't get the words to rhyme in time. Here's the note.

Tibby takes the note and reads it quickly.

Dupree: Ughhhhhhhhh, I should've known.

Madeline: What?

Dupree: He's already left the arena on his way to Grand Junction, and he took the MegaBus again...gawd I hate his face!

Madeline: Maybe we can hitch a ride with Dims after the show?

Dupree: Not if I want to live, I don't know who's more terrifying behind the wheel Lacey or Dims, I'd rather walk...

The camera fades as Tibby crumbles up the telegram.

The Camera pans to OCWFED Commentators Charles Scaggs and "Big" Al Poling.

Oh sweet jesus!

I am horrified!


Shortly after the brutal unification of the Hardcore and Ex Division Championships, we find ourselves backstage in the interview area, where we find the newly crowned Eternal Super Junior Triple Crown Hardcore Champion of the World, Matsuda, yuckin' it up with his lovely and talented waifu, Minami.

Minami struggles to pop a bottle of champagne, and when she does, the majority of the expensive bottle's contents is lost on the camera.

Minami: Ohhrrr Hide-chan sugoi SUGOII~ (^o^) ~!

Matsuda pretends to struggle under the weight of the multitude of title belts draping his body.

Matsuda: DAMN I'M GOOD!

Matsuda grabs the attention of the camera, and pulls it in close.

Matsuda: I said it before and I'll say it again, I am a selfish, selfish man!

The Villain begins to pile his championships into his specially crafted "Champion's Sack"

Matsuda: But an honest man! So when I said I won't be satisfied until I hold EVERY DAMN TITLE IN THIS COMPANY, you better believe I meant it... so who's next? Who's the Bombshell Champion?

Matsuda pauses, and is told off camera who the current title holder was.

Matsuda: Anna Mosity? Maybe I'll wait on that one... What about the World Title?

Matsuda is going over his next targets with an off screen personnel as the scene fades.


The Camera pans to the announce team!

He's like a japanese leprechuan.

Up next The North American Championship.


OCW North American Championship

Ironman Match

Tobin Frost vs Jacob Trance

Download The Match Here

The Camera pans to the announce team!





*The scene opens in a dingy bar in Salt Lake city, just around the corner from The Clash arena, a strangely dressed man with scraggly looking blonde hair sprouting from beneath a black bandanna type facemask has just entered the bar, he is wearing a hand crafted, badly stitched, off colored patch-work coat , his hands are grubby, his scraggly goatee is banded multiple times and hangs like the tail of a rat from his chin, he is wearing a pair of old, brown leather cavalier style boots, with a dull buckle on each, he has a green sack slung over his shoulder.

He perches himself on a stool at the bar, and places the sack down onto the stool next to him, and sits patiently waiting to be served, as the bar tender makes his way over.

The bar tender looks the man up and down, and with a cautious apprehension in his voice begins to speak.

Bartender : Can I help you sir?

The man cracks a wide grin, exposing his teeth to the bartender, the bartender notices the stranger has 2 dull gold teeth on his bottom row and 1 larger gold tooth where one of his front teeth should have been.

Man : Rum....mate....1 shot there of.

The bartender grabs a half filled bottle of rum from one of the shelves and pours some into a shot glass and slides it across the bar to the man, who then promptly retrieves an old battered mug from the inside of his jacket, and transfers the contents from the shot glass into the mug he just pulled out.

A baffled look spreads over the bartenders face.

Man : 2 more shots this way my good man.

The bartender pours out 2 more shots into shot glasses and passes them to the man, who in turn pours each shot into his battered old mug, each time the bartender looks more confused.

The man turns to the sack on the stool next to him and mutters -

Man : We've been over this before, it's 3..3 is the key.

The bartender looks even more baffled as the man seems to be arguing with a sack, the man breaks off his conversation with the sack and drinks his rum, then replaces his mug inside his jacket.

He then reaches into his trouser pockets and proceeds to pull out each pocket and hold them outstretched for the bartender to see the lack of contents in them.

Man : On this day, funds seem to allude me my good man, but the rum is gone....and a fine quench of the thirst it did thwart.

Bartender : I have no idea what that means, but if you have no means to pay, then you are in trouble.

The man twirls his beard around his index finger and leans on the bar, edging towards the bartender so the bar tender manages to catch a second hand whiff of rum and bad breath.

Man : 3 can keep a secret if 2 are dead...savvy?

Bartender: Excuse me??

The man turns to the sacks and barks something -

Man : Excuse me , but 2 are speaking , 3 are talking but only 1 is listening!

The man prods the sack with his finger, and then turns back to the bartender, who is looking completely puzzled and growing less patient by the minute.

Man : As I was saying..have you ever heard of 'The Legend of Cut-Throat'?

Bartender : I can't say I ever have.

Man : Then my man, may I propose a wager....I shall tell you 3 myths about the Legend of Cut-Throat, 1 of these be true, and 2 of these be false, if you guess which one be true, then I shall work off my debt to this establishment, if your guess be incorrect, I walk away from here , my thirst quenched, my debt to you paid, and the legend continues....do we have an accord?

The man reaches out his dirty hand towards the bartender, and a small '3' is noted tattooed between his thumb and his index finger.

Bartender : What the hell..what ever gets you out of here the fastest.

The men shake hands.

Man : Myth 1 : Cut-Throat used to be a notorious gangster and jewel thief, but he was betrayed by those he trusted the most, and now wanders the streets , carrying all his belongings in a green sack, searching for those that did him wrong.

Man : Myth 2 : Cut-Throat used to be Paul from 'The Wonder Years'.

Bartender : That's ridiculous.

Man : Myth 3 : Cut-Throat ate part of his own foot to get out of a bar debt.

Bartender : It's myth 1..easily myth 1...I don't suppose you have any jewels left in that sack do you? That will clear your tab.

The bartender begins to rub his palms together as he imagines the small bounty that could be contained in the sack..unable to hold his excitement, he reaches out towards the sack, only for his hand to be grabbed at the last second by the stranger.

Man : Not so fast there sonny.

The man reaches down and pulls off his left boot , and with a thud, plants his unwashed, grubby foot on to the bar, the bartender recoils in horror as he notices there are only 4 toes on the foot, and where the man's little toe should be, there is what looks like a chewed down nub.

The man again cracks a wide grin as he eases himself off the bar stool, slings his boot over his shoulder, and the sack over the other and makes his way to the exit, he turns and faces the bartender.

Man : The legend continues.....

The scene ends with the man walking out of the bare, 1 foot bare, singing to himself -

Man : 'Yo - Ho ... all hands...hoist the colors high...Heave -ho , thieves and beggars...never shall we die.....