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OCWFED.com Presents Riot 350 |
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Nate Ortiz stands backstage with Jim Black exhilarated from standing in front of a live OCW crowd for the first time in over a year. He has a smile on his face as Jim begins to speak to the camera.
RIOT joins Jacob Trance, alone, in the backstage area. When once he would be surrounded by allies, his compatriots, Komodo, K.Dangelo and the hall of famer, Aries, he now finds himself on his own. Much has changed, but yet much has remained the same. Lately, Jacob, in an elaborate plot which backfired, ha found himself shelved with a would be injury, all to avoid a handicap match which he was forced to compete in anyway. Some might think the time off has given him an advantage over Sean McGee in tonights title match, others might tell you that he'll be lacking ring sharpness.
One thing is certain, Jacob is no stranger to title matches. A multi-time champion in all aspects of the company except for tag team gold, and of course, and much to his annoyance, the heavyweight championship. Jacob even feels he has never gotten a fair crack of the whip in regards to the big gold, his only shot coming in a five man scramble match, in which a last minute replacement for the ever flakey Smythe DaWonder, Aries prevailed, pinning his friend, which would only make matters worse. After that Jacob went on something of a hiatus, returning to team with, his future rival, Cody Storm. Things went sour quickly again for Jacob, Cody turning on him in favour of his brother, who has not been seen since, Jake Storm. Jacob Trance: "That is the past..." He mutters to himself, as if the narrative was his own thoughts. Quietly, he reaches into his bag, removing a roll of tape. Carefully, and deliberately Jacob tapes up his wrist joints, presumably to provide them with support. He stretches the tape to breaking point before breaking off the excess with his teeth, finishing the job before returning the material to his bag. Jacob Trance: "Good..." He mumbles again. Rolling and flexing both wrists as if testing his handiwork. Satisfied, he thumps a fist into his palm before setting about tying up the laces of his boots. He begins to speak, not looking up. Jacob Trance: "I spoke to my mom today... And realised she was ashamed of what I had become... The things that I've done to lead me to this path. It's as if I was guided by the devil, but he's not to blame..." Jacob finishes his right boot, and starts the left. Jacob Trance: "There comes a moment in your life when you realise that it's too late to change opinions people have made of you... But you can always chip away at their negativity, that's important." Jacob finishes the left, and rolls his ankles before applying a roll of tape around the base of his boots. Jacob Trance: "It's not about being the anti-christ... It's not about being a champion... It's about being yourself. It's about being able to face yourself each morning in some motel mirror between shows, and say 'yeah, this is where I want to be.' " Trance draws a long breath before exhaling. Jacob Trance: "I can't say that person is me. I've had so many goals and expectations this year and I haven't gotten a single accomplishment I set out to grasp. Then..." Jacob laughs, almost bitterly. Jacob Trance: "Then there's everyone else I've faced this year, they've all excelled, they've all achieved more than anyone ever gave them credit for. I used to be that guy, I used to get written off entirely and overcome the odds... Now, Now I'm not a top guy, but I'm expected to be there or abouts... And I haven't even managed that." Jacob rests his hands on his thighs and looks towards the camera. Jacob Trance: "Tonight I'm up against Sean McGee, tonight I stand across the ring at a man who has had the greatest year of his life. A true breakout star. Then there's me, one bad run away from being kicked to the curb and canned." Jacob flaunts the ghost of a smile. Jacob Trance: "I beat people when it doesn't count. When it does, I find a way to choke. Sean and I are polar opposites." Jacob Trance: "Perhaps tonight though, that makes me a little more dangerous. Maybe there's a little more hunger inside of me that wants to make one big push to the main event..." Jacob shakes his head, and begins to pull on his kickpads, tying the left one at the back to ensure it doesn't come loose. Jacob Trance: "Maybe I'm just setting myself up for a titanic fall and retirement at an all time low." He repeats the process with his right kickpad. Jacob Trance: "Tonight isn't about Buffness versus Fatness, Anti-Christ versus Breakout Star... It's Sean McGee versus Jacob Trance... And this Chi-Town Son intends to prove he's still got it. So Sean, and trust me, I mean this. The best man will win, let's find out who it is, shall we?" At that, Jacob rises and snatches up his hooded jacket, flinging it on as he heads out of his locker room. ---------------------------------------------------------- We find ourselves back behind the barbed wire fences of Mourning Wood Correctional Facility as another sweltering day of New York summer quickly slips to dusk. The camera pans from the yard, devoid of all inmates who have been carefully locked tightly in their cells.
The squeaky wheels of the meal cart make their way down the hall at the hands of a guard, who carelessly drops a tray of food at each door, hungry hands quickly grasp the contents and shove them into even more hungry mouths. The guard approaches the end of the cell block, a door that reads “MAXIMUM SECURITY: APPROACH WITH CAUTION”. He knocks thrice, a knock that seemed more like a signal than a knock, but a knock nonetheless which signals for the heavy steel gates to be unsealed. Prison Guard 1: Back again? You know hes not going to eat that. The man’s lost his marbles. Prison Guard 2: Prison policy states that prison officials are required to offer the inmates meals whether they accept them or not. If a prisoner refuses, prison policy is to force feed said prisoner and give him sustenance. Prison Guard 1: I know prison policy, Jefferson. Just sayin’... Be careful in there. The man’s got nothing to lose... Prison Guard 2: I’ve got this under control, Bill. Prison Guard 1: Thats what Chapman said... Anyways... just try not to get any of that sh-- in your eyes alright? Prison Guard 2: Noted. The cart wielding guard proceeds onward through the solitary cells, rusted bars and doors covered in profane graffiti from prisoners whose sanity slipped away as day into night. THe guard knocks three times on a door dented outward, the last line of defense between this caged animal and the outside world. A slot opens, and the inmate sticks his hands out to be restrained. With the filthy hands of Inmate 4242564 locked in cuffs, the door is unlocked and opened. The cell is a mess, a thick, chunky brown substance is smeared against the walls, and the prisoner draped in shadows is surrounded by cups of yellow fluid. The long stringy black hair and a scraggly beard of the inmate veils his identity as he turns his back toward the guard, scratching the wall with his long, uneven fingernails. Prison Guard 2: You need to stop playing this game, sir. Its not going to get you anywhere. The prisoner responds by dragging his nails across the wall, making an irritating screech. Prison Guard 2: Enough with the damn mind games! I’ll tell you what you’re going to do. You’re going to take this meal-- The guard lifts the tray revealing a delicious peanut butter sandwich on white bread made with extra crunchy Jiff peanut butter. Prison Guard 2: And you’re NOT going to smear it on the walls. You’re going to EAT IT and ENJOY IT! Then you’re going to take this drink-- THe guard reveals a refreshing cup of Minutemaid Lemonade that matches the other cups spread across the room. Prison Guard 2: AND YOUR WILL DRINK IT! Have I made myself perfectly clear?! The inmate’s interest is perked by this rookie guard’s rage. He turns around slowly, his face still unrecognizable, he drags his feet and retrieves the cup of delicious lemonade. He puts the cup to his lips. He drinks the contents. Prison Guard 2: Good! Its about time you saw things my way-- In the blink of an eye, the inmate spits in the guards face, not yellow lemonade, but green mist. In shock the guard stumbles, but before he can regain his senses, he is greeted by a superkick. The inmate flees down the hall, and is presumed to have escaped the solitary confinement chamber until we hear the sound of tasers and a familiar shout of anguish. The scene fades.
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Beat his ass Raze. Justin Raze vs Sid Harrison
----------------------------------------------------------------------- Not too long after Roofu's run in with OCW Hall of Famer, Nate Ortiz we see the bubbly bodyguard trying to sneak back into the OMG locker room. Tibby is playing Angry Sharks on his Iphone, Odessa is typing away on her laptop.
Roofus tries to tippy toe passed but accidentally knocks over the OCW Championship. The scene moves in slow motion as Roofus tries to grab the title before it hits the floor. As the slow motion proceeds, we see Tibby turn around and his expression is priceless. The sorrow, the anger, it all is perfectly mapped across his face. As the slow motion finally stops and the title makes a huge clank on the floor plate down. Tibby slides across the floor, grabs the title and begins to hug it back and forth. Roofus stands there still decked out in all his Franchize Gear with a dumbfounded look on his face. Dupree: My precious, precious baby, he didn't hurt you did he. He hugs and shines her face plate with his shirt, he then gets off the floor and stares dead at Roofus. Dupree: If you ever...and I mean...ever.. Tibby stops as he finally realizes how Roofus is dressed. Dupree: What in OUR HERO's name are you wearing! Roofus: Roothus, uh uh uh, Nate's biggest fan. Dupree: Your what? Your who's biggest fan? Roofus: Nate Orthiz mistah. Dupree: Take that crap off now! Tibby smacks the hat off Roofus's head, and tries to rip the shirt off his chest. Roofus starts to immediately whine. Roofus: But mistah... Dupree: But nothing...freaking strip, NOW! Take that fecal fashion off and burn it! Burn it alive! Just like I'm gonna do to that thespian Paul Pugh! After a short commercial break for BUFFBLASTER we come back to the OCW Parking Lot. Roofus is standing in his boxers and mismatched socks. He dumps a small garbage bag into a barrel. Odessa hands Tibby a can of BUFFBLASTER, he pours it all over the Ortiz gear in the barrel, pulls out a match and tosses it in bin. Dupree: THE FIRE!!!! The bin immediately bursts into flames as Tibby cracks his classic half smile as we fade. ------------------------------ The camera pans to the backstage area. A taped off area is shown where the fans are wildly cheering. The energy is electric, hydro fusion even as it is Riot 350. A long black limousine rolls into the arena. The crowd goes wild at a chance to take a glimpse at another OCW Superstar!!!
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