As it seems that OCW Riot has gone off the air, The Men in Charge of OCW walk through the curtain. There’s no music, no fanfare, but fans pop back into their seats.
The meandering fans that have left seats already are blocking the aisles, turning around to see what is about to happen.

They get into the ring one by one before each taking a microphone. Fame is waiting. Waiting for you to shut your piehole you pathetic mark.

After weeks of choosing to run the show behind the scenes, it’s time for the most powerful conglomerate in OCW history to drop some truth. The fans in attendance are ready. You better be ready. There’s a good chance that you’re involved…

Pugh stands. Dripping with poise. The most accomplished OCW Champion ever to grace this show. He’s holding a microphone and looking straight down the hard camera. Ready to address you.

Pugh: Truck guy… don’t you dare bleep me. This has to be said and it has to be said now. You know, for weeks. I’ve sat back there. I’ve watched the endless procession of dummies and liars make their way to OUR ring. Talk through OUR microphones. Occupy OUR airtime. You know what I’ve learned?

He smiles as the crowd shout “No” back at him.

Pugh: I’ve learned that the benchmark for what you people expect is… low… to say the very least. See, for years. To exist in the OCW Stratosphere, you had to have a certain ability. A certain verve. A certain je ne sais quoi. You had to earn your spot and fight tooth and nail to retain that spot.

Pugh: You got an opportunity and you seized it with both hands and you prayed above all-fucking-else that you had enough to fend off the next thirsty son of a bitch that was coming for what you had.

Pugh: It was famine. We were out here STARVING. Starving to survive in a world full of killers. Killers like Parker Stevens…

The fans pop for The Hardcore Icon

Pugh: ...Dimsmore...

They pop again

Pugh: ...Sean McGee...

They pop big

Pugh: All people that could HURT you in this ring. People that were versed in how to create. People who innovated new ways to hurt you every single time you stepped into this ring. People with pure, unadulterated Ambition coursing through their veins.

Pugh: Steel sharpens Steel. You didn’t step into my ring not to lose - you came to win, and if you didn’t then you’d go away and get better until you did. It was JURASSIC. It was SAVAGE and if you weren’t careful you’d have your LIGHTS DIMMED before you knew what the fuck had happened.

He takes a deep breath before letting out a deeper sigh

Pugh: ...and now? Well to give you an idea of how far we’ve dropped… last week some green as gooseshit, high top wearing disrespectful little prick does MY finishing move in the middle of MY ring. MY MOVE. IN MY RING.

He sighs again

Pugh: Where we come from…

He points at the rest of FAME

Pugh: That’s the sort of shit that would get you thrown into the corridor to change. That’s the sort of shit that would you have riding town to town by yourself. That’s the sort of shit that gets you an actual human shit in your desk drawer… and he’s not the only one.

He pauses and looks around

Pugh: There are people out here in MY ring choreographing dance routines to try and pop each other. There are yappy little poodles running around here talking to 10-year vets like they’re shit on their shoe. There are morons going out of their way to hide their PED use… and why?

He turns to Dupree

Pugh: Why?

Dupree: Why? I’ll tell you why! Because mediocrity has become the benchmark of success in OCW. Especially for perennial underachievers like Bobby Minio who wouldn’t know what it takes to be a champion if Paul here shat in his Wheaties every morning.

Dupree: Just like OCW’s former “longest reigning champion” Bobby can’t make a name for himself without latching onto the hottest thing running, first it was C4, now it’s Inception.

Dupree: Not that Harvey is anything more than hot air leaving an already deflated balloon, it’s the fact that Bobby will always and forever be a follower, never the leader.

He nonchalantly leans on the top rope.

Dupree: And that’s the entire roster in a nutshell, followers following followers to the damn anime convention. It’s pathetic, I couldn’t just sit back and watch the company I helped make into the best wrestling promotion on the planet spiral down a Trash bin for a few cheap pops any longer.

Dupree: This among other reasons is why I’m going to take Bobby’s Pride Championship at Certified Greatness because quite frankly I know in the long run Bobby will fail, Cort Marshall will fail, Telos will fail, Tre Golden will fail, A.C Cobra, will fail they all will fail to bring real pride to that championship.

He turns toward Pugh.

Dupree: The kind of pride and prestige Paul here is currently bringing to the OCW World Heavyweight Championship.

Pugh perches himself on the top rope looking towards the ramp and the X-Tron. His breathing has become more frenzied.

Pugh: ...and ...To top it all off. I get a call a couple of days after I win this thing.

He points at the World Title that is fastened tightly around his waist

Pugh: ..Its some middle management yahoo telling me that the initial deal of a rematch with H2O is off the table...No explanation. No reasoning.

Pugh: Just the words “there is no rematch”. One of the only reasons that I ended up where I am was because I was ready to pass the torch to Harvey… and what do I get in return?

He raises an eyebrow and looks backstage

Pugh: I get told these two jabronis would rather fight over the affection of a 14-year-old girl. They’re going to decide who gets to Captured by Chris Hanson and they’re going to do that on your dime at an OCW Pay Per View…

A Slight "SHE IS LE-GAL"Chant Starts and is Quickly Killed as Pugh Rolls his eyes and continues!

Pugh: You’re going to enable them to make money off of finding out who gets to join the sex offenders register first… AND WHERE DOES THAT LEAVE OL’ PAUL? Welp… looks like the CCW title gets top billing this time guys. The land of the weak and the try hards. People who have no concept of how to create something impressive...

He smiles and unhooks the Championship before tossing it onto the ground and popping off the top rope, landing on his tush in the corner, the title belt between his illustrious legs.

Pugh: I will be DAMNED if I’m going to appear on a show where I’M NOT the Main Attraction. You people don’t deserve to see me wrestle and you don’t deserve to hear me talk to some useless bitch who couldn’t make it in journalism but managed to make “the correct choices” when it came to the boys in the back...

He points at the crowd

Pugh: Not any single one of you deserves me… and especially not you people back there

He points backstage

Pugh: Not only are none of you worthy… you’re not capable. This World Championship used to be the most prized asset in all of Wrestling… and now look at it.

He scoops it up and holds it close - speaking to it.

Pugh: I’m doing my best for you, baby.

He hops up to his feet and begins addressing the Hard Cam again, leaving the title resting in the corner

Pugh: Shit since OCW isn’t up to the task of taking this title from me, it will remain in my custody until such a time as a suitable opponent can be found. Someone with ability, poise, gravitas. Someone like ME…

He grins

Pugh: ...and since there’s nobody forthcoming. Guess I get the night off at Certified Greatness right, Dupree? ...and there is not ONE GODDAMN THING that anyone in this company can DO ABOUT IT.

Unorthodox by WRETCH 32 Ft Example radiates around MSG as Pugh looks to the heavens - annoyed at the interruption. Your boys and mine The Uncrowned have arrived and furthermore - they’re coming to the ring to address Fame.

Pugh: What the FUCK are you doing here? This is not the start of the show. Don’t you have some Inner City Youth to empower?

Pugh: While you’re out here who’s leading the Rookie Coup - Rust fucking Cohle? You know he’s French right… historically they’re not great at winning battles… or even fighting battles come to think of it…

Doc leans out the ring, grabs a microphone from a nearby stagehand and begins talking before even fully standing upright.

DOC: You alright, fellas? Seems to me like the dementia’s kicking in with you lot. Sean McGee? Dimsmore? Those lads are gone. I think it’s about time you started respecting the present and future of this company, and that starts with us two.

Doc points at himself and then his tag team partner, Antonio Everrett.

Pugh: Listen you little grime stars. This isn’t him you’re talking to.

He points at Dupree who is furious. Pugh pats him on the shoulder

Pugh: Sorry Dupree… Maybe if you didn’t lose two matches in row…

Dupree: Excuse me?!

Dupree stomps his feet and slaps Pugh’s hand off him

Doc: Look at you. Bickering like an old married couple. Do you two even like each other? Or are you beyond that kind of… bitterness.

Pugh: You keep that smart tongue in your mouth or I’ll yank it out and turn it into some fashionable slides for your friend over there’s dirty feet…

Dupree interjects, pointing at Everrett’s feet.

Dupree: No socks, NO PHREAKING HONOR!!!

Everrett: How my foot taste, huh? You’re damn lucky I didn’t kick the taste out your golden mouth, grandad.

Pugh: No honor is correct. Did you see these two in that tag match? Ted turned his back for two seconds and they came at us like a pack of hyenas… and here’s me thinking you’re “the good guys”...

Pugh: You know what that tells me? You’re not on my level. So slink your narrow arse back out of my ring, because the GROWN UP World HEAVYWEIGHT Champion is talking.

Doc: You done yet? You see, I don’t know if you can remember this, but we BEAT YOU. You know what that tells me, it tells me that you’re rattled, because you don’t want to think we can hang; that I can hang with you when the pressure is on.

Pugh: Son this is not Memphis in the 70s. There are no spots for midgets in my world.

Doc: Alright then, fight me at Certified Greatness, for that.

He points at the OCW World Championship, resting in the corner of the ring.

Doc: Put your money where your mouth is, champ. Prove to me that you’ve got the balls to risk that precious belt of yours against a ‘rookie nobody’. Then we’ll see who’s laughing.

Pugh stands still for a second or two before his face is cracked with a massive smile. He begins to laugh wildly, as does Dupree.

Nate is still stone-faced, but the hilarity of the situation is implied. On his non-reacting face. Which doesn’t react… Do you get what I’m saying?

Pugh walks over to the corner where he left the World Title belt and brings it back towards where Doc is standing. He then unbuckles it and holds it up to the waist of Doc. The belt is hilariously oversized on him and Pugh begins to laugh again.

Pugh: Sorry son, you need to be this tall to ride…

He puts his hand way above Doc Green’s head and Doc immediately slaps it away

Pugh: Look kid. You’ve wasted enough of my time. That’s your fifteen minutes of FAME up. Get the fuck out of my ring before I toss your tiny ass into section 223...

He spins to the left and waves at Section 223 (located in the fucking ceiling of Madison Square Garden) who pop for him. He can barely hear the pop because they paid for such terrible seats.

Dupree sarcastically puts his hand above his eyes, as if he were looking for a golf drive that he had horribly shanked into the rough, The crowd begins to chant “223” as Doc’s demeanour has changed to one of unadulterated rage.

Pugh is still laughing at Doc Green

Doc: How about I wipe that stupid smirk off your face right now, then we’ll see who you’re calling midget.

Doc walks up to Pugh’s face, going eye to eye with the World Champion. Pugh immediately stops laughing then squares up to the rookie himself.

The laughter is over, and Pugh is ready to fight. Pugh steps back, as if he’s about to line up a shot before he’s interrupted again…

This time, Mr.Sensationsin C. Sensation is coming through the curtain - seemingly furious about what’s going on in his ring, on his time. He’s already holding a microphone and is coming towards the ring at a heady pace.

Pugh: Oh look who’s here to roadblock my god dam segment. Get out of here. We’ve got our quota of useless non-wrestlers filled.

He looks at Doc who’s still furious

Pugh: This is MY SHOW now. Your time babysitting OCW’s shitty talentless roster is over... and take this child backstage because he needs a nap.

Mr.Sensation: Your SHOW? And I thought Dupree was the DIVA…..

A DIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVAAAA...DIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVA Chant begins!

Dupree Scowls at Our Hero.

Mr.Sensation: You know when I made the call to have you come back I thought I was doing you a favor. But in reality I was leaning on nostalgia. And I thought having you come back would be good for morale.

Mr.Sensation: The only thing it has been good for is raising my god dam blood pressure. And inflating your already gigantic ego.

Mr.Sensation: You walk around here acting like you are God's gift to OCW but lets not forget once upon a time you didnt even HAVE THE AMBITION to stick around here on more then one ocassion.

Mr.Sensation: Did you know I’ve had to deal with a 4ft Renegade Little Girl holding fire hazards in the parking lot because you two are on some powertrip ruining my damn show with this terrible booking!

Pugh: No I did not. I watch GLOW on Netflix if I decide I wanna see shitty characters wrestle in slow motion… Oh look at you.

Dupree does look at Sensation and with disgust.

Dupree: Oh really?! We can’t book worth a damn. Maybe you should’ve brought back that oversized edgelord to phreaking book, why didn’t you huh? Because me and any relevant talent you have left would take our rent money and build our own damn haus inna heartbeat.

Dupree: Face it you’re weak and broken, the Mr.Sensationsin Sensation I knew would’ve never hesitated to fire a juiced up brat who was infecting every person in that locker room, instead you did what? You let it continue and poison your best workers for months on end….MONTHS!

Pugh nods as Dupree continues to lay it on thick.

Dupree: Now you’re having “trouble” with Valkyrie, another pint sized parasite… please just save that song for a Birdie who gives a damn.

Mr.Sensation squares up.

Dupree: You watch your mouth Octavian.....

Dupree cracks his classic half smile, more of a smirk as he continues!

Dupree: So here we phreaking are Mr.Sensationsin, a product of your own incompetence. This is why FAME exists, because no one and I mean NO ONE can get the job done, but us.

Pugh stares into Sensation’s eyes

Pugh: You don’t know what to say. You’re pathetic. This is why we have to do what we’ve done. You’ve lost touch. You’ve lost control. You have no earthly idea what these people want.

Pugh: You still think this is the Golden Hour with RD Money and pals. This isn’t 2005 anymore Mr.Sensation. This is 2019 and this is OUR world now.

Pugh: You are just paying the mortgage so they can pay us rent. You used to be the ruler. The grand puba. The founder. And now what are you? An old, useless, delusional sack of shit. Don’t you forget that I’m the only one of these people...

He points to everyone in the ring

Pugh: ...That you didn’t create. I am SELF MADE. I did ALL OF THIS despite your best efforts to stop it happening. I AM THE CHAMPION OF YOUR COMPANY BECAUSE YOU WERE STUPID ENOUGH TO INTRODUCE A COYOTE INTO A HEN HOUSE. I MEAN LOOK AT THIS ONE

He turns to Doc and makes CLUCK CLUCK Chicken Noises. Doc balls his fist up and looks to knock the hell out of Pugh. Before Mr.Sensation and Everrett step in.

Mr.Sensation: Settle down Doc…

Mr.Sensation paces back and forth thinking about what Paul Pugh has just said. Not angry just disappointed.

Mr.Sensation: I shoulda never gave you dummies money!

Madison Square Garden Pops!

Mr.Sensation: You might not be wrong Pugh...I am old and I might just be out of touch. But I can tell you one thing.

Mr.Sensation: I know what Madison Square Garden wants...

Mr.Sensation: And I know what the people want!

Mr.Sensation: And do you know what that is?

Pugh: ...What?

Mr.Sensation(Smiles): DOC GREEN vs PAUL PUGH for the OCW WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP at CERTIFIED GREATNESS!

Madison Square Garden becomes unglued except for Section 223 who are disappointed to say the least. Pugh is stamping his feet and screaming at the top of his voice. There is that white saliva stuff appearing in the corners of his old man mouth as he rants and raves in Sensation’s face.

Almost as quick as a hiccup, Doc Green smashes Pugh in the side of the head and immediately gets the F out of dodge, quickly followed by Everrett.

Pugh is knocked onto his bottom by the blow, but immediately springs to his feet, rushing towards the ropes before being halted by Our Hero.

Pugh: GET THE **** OUT OF MY WAY YOU…

Our Hero shakes his head side to side and says “no” off mic, but in Pugh’s face. He then pushes Pugh back towards FAME, who are both standing, both reacting differently to what they have just witnessed.

Nate remains stoic and unmoved, but Dupree is literally doing a pee pee in his pantaloons. Laughing hysterically at his “friend”.

Enraged by this, Pugh spins around on his heels and scoops up the Championship Belt. He then cocks the title belt above his chest and takes an almighty run up in the direction of Sensation.

Before he can make contact with the Owner of OCW, Nate Ortiz steps between them and snatches the title belt out of Pugh’s hand. Madison Square Garden is on there feet!! chanting for a fight!

Pugh again begins to stomp his feet wildly and tries to snatch it back. Nate Ortiz will not give Pugh the Title Belt back.
They both stand, face to face, camera zooming in on them.

Both men have stopped trying to seize the Championship Belt, and are just focused on each other. They exchange eye contact for a moment, then another moment, and a further moment still. Their gaze is only broken when a familiar voice pops over the PA system in Madison Square Garden.

Doc: I’ll see you Sunday, mate!

Pugh leaves his staredown with Nate and focuses on the ramp, where Doc Green is standing with his Uncrowned Brother Antonio Everrett. The show goes off the air with a long shot of the ring and the stage area, showing each of the participants in the longest Riot segment in history...