The camera transitions into view of a magnanimous city. The city of Chicago, one of America’s oldest, yet notorious cities. The night was clear and calm, as the lights emanating in the background shine into the camera’s lens. It was a cold, damp night, and the Allstate Arena was still being filled with a few late arrivals. The air reeked of violets, roses and lavender, creating an impression of sparkling watery fruit accords reminiscent of a day along the shores of Lake Michigan. Transitioning yet again, the camera zooms in to LCD sign standing tall outside of the arena. “Allstate Arena.” “OCW Presents Turmoil!” “Sold Out!”
After last week, the natives of OCW’s Turmoil brand deserved it. For a third time, the camera transitioned back into the arena. It was deafening. Giggles and screams filled the arena. The brisk air chilled the outside world, but inside? The live, raucous crowd were damp with perspiration in anticipation of Turmoil. Arms flailed upward, and voices echoed in varying tones. In unison, the audience started up a chant of “OCW”. The moment was here.
Transitioning for a final time, we pan in backstage. The camera slowly drops down, zoomed into the face of one of the oldest OCW inhabitants. Dressed in a fine worsted wool suit with a pitch black bowtie to match. It was Jim Black. Sweat shot down Jim’s forehead out of nervousness and elation. Using a small handkerchief, Mr. Black wiped away the moisture and lifted his microphone.
Jim Black – “Ladies and gentleman, welcome to another episode of OCW Turmoil! I am Jim Black, and at this time; please welcome my gu…”
Before Jim could finish his introduction, an obnoxious, boisterous sound echoed through the arena. It can only be described as a giant pig being slaughtered for sustenance. Mr. Black first glanced to his right. Looking around, he noticed nothing but stagehands and the catering crew, preparing food for the entire backstage area. Jim slowly turned his head back into view of the camera with a look of bewilderment. “What the hell was that?”, he wondered. Shaking it off, he looked back into the camera, and lifted the microphone once again.
Jim Black – “As I was saying, please welcome my guest at this ti…”
Once again, that loud noise tore at the eardrums of everyone around.
Jim Black – “What IS that?!”
Jim finally turned his head to the left, and saw his guest. The camera turned with Jim, and zoomed out. It wasn’t enough. The camera zoomed out more and more, until finally, the guest was unveiled. Aries was stone cold asleep. Standing still with the grace and poise of a burly “Statue of David”, he emitted a thundering noise equal to that of an oncoming train coming to a halt. Jim Black could not believe his eyes. The man beast had fallen asleep while standing, even snoring in the process. Complete with a pale green Hawaiian t-shirt with red, embroidered designs matching the left side of his hair. His arms were crossed, as a piece of what seemed to be a half-eaten chimichanga lay on the top of his enormous gut.
Jim Black – “…Aries?”
Nothing. Not even the faintest disturbance to the man mammoth.
Jim Black – “Aries??”
Again. Nothing awoke the sleeping goliath.
Jim Black – “ARIES!!”
Aries jolted awake by the sound of Jim’s calling. The fat around his face echoed like rippling waters. The chimichanga that lay on his stomach fell to the unclean arena floor. Aries clutched his chest, as if his heart were beating as fast as the hooves of a horse on a racetrack. He glanced over at Jim, almost like he was a glorious, bronzed turkey dinner on Thanksgiving.
Aries – “WHAT?! WHAT IS IT?!”
Jim was petrified. He knew his answer was a matter of life and death.
Jim Black – “You’re on air, Mr. Legend!”
Aries seemed satisfied with Jim’s response as he began to calm down. He looked down at his “flip-flops”, and noticed his chimichanga.
Aries – “Are you going to eat that?”
He looked over at Jim as he pointed to the ground.
Jim Black – “I…don’t think so?”
Aries’ eyes widened as the smile grew on his face. His chins tripled as he bent down to pick up his fallen food. You could hear the fabric in his clothes slightly tear at the seams. Picking up the chimichanga, he stood upright and practically devoured the food in a single bite.
Jim Black – “Aries…what happened to you?”
Aries – “What do you mean, Jim?”
Jim Black – “You look…so…”
Aries face lit up, thinking what Jim had just said was a compliment about his appearance.
Aries – “I know, I know. I look so damn good!”
Jim Black – “That’s not what I…”
Aries – “Shut it, Jim. Do you see this?!”
Aries places both of his hands onto his stomach.
Aries – “This is pure, unadulterated mass. I can bench three times my own weight!”
Jim snickers under his breath. Aries begins to breath heavy as he explains his newly formed “mass”.
Aries – “Women have never been so attracted to me. You think those…”
He takes a deep breath before finishing his sentence.
Aries – “Do you think the other tools in this company can bed as many women as me? NO! I AM A GOL…”
He takes in another deep breath.
Aries – “I AM A GOLDEN…GOD! THE MAHARAJAH OF MASS! THE ONE TRUE LEGEND OF OCW!”
Aries inhales deeply.
Aries – “I bet most of the idiots in this arena can’t even spell legend.”
The man mammoth looks into the camera, and begins his spelling lesson for the Chicago crowd.
Aries – “L-E-…J..I-N-D. LEJIND!”
The rambunctious crowd jeer, starting up a chant that’s akin to poison to Aries’ ears.
Crowd – “You’re so fat! You’re so fat!”
The crowd continued for a few seconds, as Aries anger rose. You could practically see the steam blowing out of his ears like workshop steam whistle.
Aries – “I AM NOT FAT! RESPECT ME!”
Aries points to himself, as Jim looks on in amazement at the obliviousness of the former World Champion.
Aries – “I did not come he…”
Still pointing at himself, Aries decides that’s not enough. He lifts his finger to his nostril and begins to dig. Dig, dig, dig. He scrapes out a miniature mountain of mucus from his nose, and proceeds to wipe his findings on the arm of Jim Black’s worsted wool suit. Jim, looking in complete disgust, as if someone had stuck a knife into his side, threw his microphone to the ground and stormed out of the camera’s view. Aries bends down and picks up the microphone. As he makes it back up to the upright position, he wobbles. The blood rushed to his. He steadies himself, and lifts the microphone to his mouth to speak. Very close to his mouth. For a few moments, Aries was perpetually breathing into the microphone.
Aries – “Tonight…tonight is the night that I reclaim my throne!”
Breathing even heavier as his rage builds, he points into the camera once again.
Aries – “Tonight, I am going to that ring, and issuing an open challenge TO ANYONE backstage. The epitome of excellence will be waiting in the middle of that ring! I’LL SHOW YOU WHY I’M THE GREATEST…”
Aries seems to have trouble getting out the final words.
Aries – “I’M THE GREATEST…”
He clutches his chest once again, breathing heavier and heavier.
Aries – “…I’M THE GRE…”
Before finishing, he let’s out a powerful belch that echoes throw the halls.
Aries – “I’M THE GREATEST OF ALL TIME!”
Aries drops the microphone with the pride of a sea-lion. He looks into the camera, with a face like he had been hit with a bag of hot nickels, and hocks a loogie into the camera’s lens. As the slime drenches down the lens, you can see Aries hobble slowly off-screen.
Previously Recorded - Directly after Turmoil 106
Doctor: Bring him on in. Watch the table there. Don't worry Mr. Montgomery, we’ll get you fixed up.
Two EMTs wheel Jackson into the trainers room backstage at Turmoil on a gurney after the attack from Tank Williams after their match. They bring the gurney to the side of the examination table and lock the wheels.
EMT #1: Ready Jackson? We're going to move you to the table.
Jackson Montgomery: What's your name boy?
EMT #1: Bocaj Ecnart sir.
Jackson looks at the “boy”, who seems to be in his early 20s, with a confused look on his face. He shakes it off.
Jackson Montgomery: Are you having a stroke? Anyway, don't touch me. I can move my self. Now beat it, both of you.
Jackson slides off the gurney and hops on one leg to the examination table. He climbs up and the Dr. makes his way over.
Doctor: Ok Mr. Montgomery, go ahead and lean back on the table here and we’ll take a look at that knee.
Jackson follows the doc’s instructions and the doctor lowers the head of the table a bit and pulls the front out so Jackson can rest his legs.
Doctor: So how'd this happen? The blind side?
The doctor pokes and prods at “Monty’s” knee. Before walking over to his cabinet.
Jackson Montgomery: That sore loser Tank Williams couldn't handle defeat like a real man and blind sided me with a chop block and multiple chair shots.
Doctor: I saw that match. I like that Tank kid. Looks great in the ring.
The doctor turns around to see Jackson burning a hole in him. Jackson is seething.
Doctor: Uh, moving on. From what I can tell, it's just swollen at the moment. Nothing broken. Nothing torn. I would recommend you stay off it for a week or so and keep it on ice.
Jackson doesn't like the sound of that. He grunts under his breath as the doctor slides the leg section back into the table.
Jackson Montgomery: Damn! That Tank son of a b**** is going to pay for this!
The scene fades to black as Jackson hops off the table.
Ron Portman is mic'd up already as he starts right into his segmented show.
Ron: Welcome to the Portman perspective. Where I give my unbiased and unedited opinion on what's going on in OCW today and what I think is going to happen in the future.
Let's start with the main thing right now. Turmoil's title tournament is underway and looks like it will be a true test of who is ready to be crowded the King of Turmoil. Kassidy Hayes and Jackson Montgomery are already through to the next round and with more action slated for today it will be the start of a new era in OCW and the chance of a lifetime for a lucky champion.
Also on the other side we have the return of women's wrestling, also the death of the Bombshells. The new name is going to be the Maidens of the Mat, or MoMs as we now have to call it which is perhaps an act of shrewd sexism in itself. But nonetheless we got a new women's wrestling name and a new women's wrestling to go with. So I'm excited to see women signing up and getting into this ring on a weekly basis.
We also got Jimmy Henry last week. a guy we can all get behind. But he was brutally attacked by Seb abbott after Jimmy called him out. Jimmy Henry has undergone a ton of scrutiny after his debut at Riot vs Turmoil. His luck doesn't seem to get any better as he got steamrolled last week. I hope he can turn it around.
But a guy that looks like he doesn't need to turn it around is the monster that is Tank. He supplanted Jackson Montgomery after a great match last week. I don't think Tank is done with him either. I'm sure that will be a spectacular feud and it looks like we have the making of a bright future over here on Turmoil.
On the riot side we have....
Voice: Hold on, hold on!
The camera heads over to the stage ramp where Daryl Bradley is seen walking down to the ring with an enormous looking man.
Bradley: We don't pay you to talk about or to promote the "other show". I also am not going to pay to just come out here and speak your mind every week. You promised me you would have a guest, and despite this here you are... Without a guest. Hell, I even thought you would have been able to drag Arnaud out of the skybox for five minutes! So, what this means is... Well, you're going to have to work for your dime, unlike these disgusting welfare goblins in the audience.
The huge man just stands in front of Ron and as Ron walks up chest to chest with him. He is a towering figure who looks like a wrestling machine.
Ron: I don't have my gear. I also can't fight in my thousand dollar suit. Mainly because I only have one.
Bradley: I've taken care of that already. We find an old singlet in a production truck.
With that some ringside help whisks down the ramp with some new wrestling gear for Ron
Bradley: You looked like a homeless man before. Part of your rebranding is making you look like you at leastknow how to wreslte. This is your new ring gear. You can put it on righ there like the lowly animal you are
Ron: I'm sure nobody here wants to see me in my briefs.
The fans start to cheer and chant "take it off" especially the ladies in the crowd.
Bradley: Shut up! Ring the god damned bell, I'm out of here! I have other problems to deal with tonight!
Bradley promptly leaves the ring
shaking his head at the ignorance of Ron Portman.
Pretty much the last we heard from the Original OCW Bombshells; Eerie Sunshine, Anna Mosity, KAT, Molly, Jessica Jessie, Big Bertha and Jackie Blackfoot they were on their way from prison to OCW in a short yellow bus. That was over 2 months ago...
Now here they are, every single one of them in Odessa Ebony's office. If you can call it an office, it's just a small table with a laptop in the corner of a very large storage room now deemed the "Women's Locker Room" until Smythe Da Wonder clears his belongings out the original one. With the new Maidens of the Mat also in the storage room it's quite the sight.
Betty Ford (Eerie & Anna) are front and center at Odessa's desk. The tension is palpable between the Maidens and Bombshells. Odessa and Betty Ford are in a heated exchange over the supposed death of the Bombshell Division.
Anna: You come out here wit ya fancy suit and stupid haircut and call the Bombshell Division dead! Bitch I'll....
Odessa: You'll do absolutely nothing! The lot of you abandoned your post to say the least. None of you have competed in an offical OCW match in months, you can't just show up expecting that your still employed.
Eerie: We went out for drinks, f*cking sue me!
Odessa: What bar were you in for over 2 months?!
Anna gets ready to deliver a legit answer.
Odessa: Don't bother, you all are a disgrace to women's wrestling. You behave like savages, socialpaths, sexual deviants and drug addicts, and I'm just referring to you two. The rest of you are no better, possibly worse. Last year you went on strike, now you show up for the start of the season 2 months late.
Odessa: Bottomline you've been...how do I put this without compromising your already fragile emotions...I wish you, your significant other, and the rest of you, success in all your future endeavors.
The tension levels go to the extreme as the Bombshells all look to pounce on Odessa Ebony at once. The Maidens step forward, we are away moments from the storage room turning into fem fatale' fight club and Odessa right in the middle of it. Before things can erupt Odessa makes a smart decision. It's almost like she's the "Smartest Wrestler in the World".
Odessa: Unless....
Everyone pauses.
Odessa: One of you can beat the returning Brandi Hostile...
The Bombshells all look at each other, all the Maidens turn to look at Brandi Hostile who just now stopped playing Candy Crush on her smartphone.
Brandi: But...but...
Odessa: So which one of you Bombshells will it be?
Eerie: Well I'm a little too hungover to wrestle right now.
She belches.
Anna: And I'm definitely too high to...
Big Bertha, the largest person in the room and former German Olympian steps between Betty Ford.
Big Bertha: I wrestle whiny girl, save Bombshells.
Odessa: Bertha Stigglitz vs. Brandi Hostile, if Bertha wins the Bombshells get reinstated alongside the Maidens...but if Bertha loses or is in anyway disqualified all your contracts will be terminated indefinitely.
Content with the decision the Bombshells migrate out of the storage room. Brandi Hostile can be seen tweeting to her 10 followers.... #lifesnotfair. The caller ID on the smartest smartphone in the world reads "Lindsay Rothschild, Esq.", Odessa answers the call as the screen fades.
The scene opens up backstage in the hallways of tonight's venue where a skinny Fedex delivery boy is seen carrying a bag that is almost as wide as him. He is frantically looking for somebody and asking everybody for help but nobody has decided to stop.
Fedex Kid: Hey.....hey......help...HEY.....Do you know where I can.....You know where.......Ah damn it.
Everybody walks right by him as he tries to get their attention. The Fedex delivery boy finally runs into no other than OCW rookie B-17 who is talking on the his cellphone.
B-17: Screw waiting, I’m taking care of this tonight...I don’t care, the sons of bitches that attacked us are on borrowed time….
Fedex Kid: Sir, can you help me? I have an important overnight rush package to deliver to a.....Mr. Jacob Caine?
B-17, upon hearing his real name turns towards the Fedex Kid.
B-17: Well that's me. I'll sign for it.
Fedex Kid: Aw man! That's awesome! This is the last thing I had to deliver today. Thanks!
B-17 takes the large black box that is pulled from the Fedex delivery boy's bag.
B-17: Yeah, hold on, bud. Someone sent a package...no, I’m not waiting. Someone is looking to knock us out of commission...yeah, him too...Hold on!
B-17 walks off to the side as he tears open the top of the box. A very large bow is wrapped around another black box, this one wrapped in fine leather. This time, he takes off the bow and opens the leather box to reveal a brand new iPad air with a note saying "Turn This On -DH".
B-17: Who the hell is DH?... I’m not asking you! B-17 holds the phone away from his ear and stares at it as if contemplating throwing it away.
B-17 turns on the iPad to see the Apple logo. The logo begins to flicker as the iPad is booting and suddenly changes to the C4 Logo.
B-17: Huh, you’re never gonna believe it, C4 sent me a message...Well I don’t know what it says I just opened it!
B-17 is confused before a muscular half Samoan half black gentleman appears on the screen. A name tag on his desk says Duayne Hobbs.
B-17: Shhhhh!
Duayne Hobbs: B-17. Jacob Caine, whatever the hell you want to call yourself. My name is Duayne Hobbs and I am the lead agent of the C4 Sports Agency. We have had our eyes on you as of late. I'll be honest, I didn't really have you on my radar until our owner and CEO, Ro....ahem Mugen told me to put you on it. Ever since, I went back to your catalog of matches and I gotta say, I'm impressed. Even when you are on the losing end of the stick, you look good out there. You got that "something" that we look for here.
Now, let me ask you something. Are you ready to become a superstar? Screw that. Are you ready to become a megastar? You ready to have your name in the main event slot at OCW Pay Per Views? Have your face be plastered over billboards in Times Square? More importantly, do you want to become so rich that you can buy as many women that you want? Think about it, we'll be in touch.
By the way, the iPad's yours kid.
The video cuts out as the home screen loads in.
B-17: Yeah, Jackson. It’s over. Apparently C4 has some interest in me….Yes, I’m sure they….No, no, no. Jackson, phone conversations only work when we take turns! Look, Tank pays first, I’m not waiting! Tank and who attacked us comes first, then we deal with this C4 thing.
B-17: Okey, talk to you later.
Camera opens as Seth Morrison walks into the locker room and opens his locker. Much to his surprise he has a package waiting for him. He gives a concerned look as he looks it over and shakes the package. He reluctantly opens it, looks down to see whats in it, then smiles. He pulls out what looks to be a very expensive bottle of his favorite whiskey, and a lighter with a note attached to it.
Morrison: Well, at least it's not a bomb.
Morrison starts to read the letter.
Morrison: Respect is given when respect is earned. You have certainly earned it from me. Welcome back. I would love to have a chat. Please bring both items and join me as my guest on Riot next week. We have a lot to talk about, and I have a very special surprise for you.Ill explain what the lighter is for next week.
Morrison looks over the package for a name as he is unsuccessful.
Morrison: it doesn't have a name or a return address. Either it's a trap, and someone's going to get their ass whipped, or someone is already a fan of the new me. Either way it looks like I'm headed to Riot next week so I can thank this mysterious man or woman in person.
Morrison gives a devious smile as he puts the package back in his locker but not before he takes a swig of the whiskey. Just as he is done, a referee comes into the lockerroom and interrupts him.
Referee: Mr. Morrison, I hate to inform you, your match with Tank is off for tonight.
Morrison becomes angry as he grabs the referee by his shirt.
Morrison: What do you mean, my match is off? I didnt take a 4 hour flight only to be taken off the card.
Referee: Oh no, thats not it. You are actually wrestling Sebastion Abbott tonight in the tournament. Diemos was unable to compete.
Morrison lets the referee go. He starts to brush off the ref and straighten his shirt for him as he calms down.
Morrison: Oh! Well then. Thats a totally different story. Tournament huh? Well, you know what they say. One man's misfortune is another man's opportunity. Thanks for the message. It looks like I will still get to kick someones ass tonight. Only this time, its for something bigger.
Camera fades
Click below for hidden segment
Several arrests were made amid protests by the ‘Black Matches Matter’ group outside of Chicago’s Allstate Arena. Protesters moved their demonstration to Cibo Racconto Restaurant after organizers of the protest informed that their leader would be getting an interview by OCW, the first step of many for the Black Matches Matter movement to be satisfied. Dennis Black hushed the crowd, and most of them settled down. He then adjusted his tie before looking to Stacy.
Dennis Black: How do I look?
Stacey Clark: ...Good?
Dennis Black: Great! Take it easy on me, okay? I’m kind of shy on camera.
Stacey Clark: No problem.
Stacey and Dennis smile to the camera when given the cue that they were live.
Stacey Clark: We’re live outside of the Allstate Arena with Dennis Black and his...uh, Black movement? Can you give the fans of OCW a bit of information on what this movement is all about?
Dennis Black: Change. This is about change and giving opportunity to a man that eats, sleeps, and breaths wrestling. For months, my supporters and I have submitted video after video of my short time on the independent circuit. Forums over flooded, asking why this man was not given a chance. At least a developmental contract. Numerous letters have been sent in, but were never answered. And now…
Dennis Black looks over the crowd before returning his attention to Stacey.
Dennis Black: The combined voices of this movement have finally been heard. I will make my debut...tonight on Turmoil!
Protesters cheer.
Stacey Clark: This gathering seems very happy for you.
Dennis Black: There are three things I know to be true. The first, I'm walking into OCW as a no name. A nobody. I'm going to win a few. Lose a few. Pull a few upsets, and yea...get destroyed from time to time. Who knows, probably as soon as tonight. I've got an opponent with more experience. I'll do my damnedest to perform either way.
Dennis Black: The second, is that a year from now, people won't speak of Turmoil without thinking of me. I ‘will’ be a cornerstone.
Dennis Black: The third? Well that's simple...Black matches matter.
Dennis turns to face the crowd and cheers along with them. The camera scene fades to black.
Jimmy Henry enters the ring to his theme music. The crowd are noticeably more vocal & positive this week, than the lukewarm response he got last week. He waits in the ring for his opponent, Caleb Reeves, to show up for their tournament match.
VIDEO IS CORRUPTED WILL NOT PLAY ON PLAYER DOWNLOAD CORRUPT VERSION HERE WILL WORK LOCALLY
As the next match is about to begin, the room grows dark, only to explode with light as the entrance music of Tank plays. The man walks in slow strides to the ring, the booes of the crowd ringing out loud from his deplorable actions last time on Turmoil. Tank enters the ring and grabs a mic, the look is his eyes just begging for a fight. He looks out to the crowd before slowly bringing the mic to his mouth.
Tank: Oh shut the hell up already!
The booing gets louder, almost deafening.
Tank: So... Here we are... My second match in OCW and who do I get? Seth Morrison, not to be confused with that idiot who got his face split open in a ladder match. But I'm not here for that.... Ya see I'm here for one purpose. Revenge.. Ya see my first match was someone who thought I was gonna be a pushover and even though he got the one, two, three, I unloaded on him with a chair!
The boos roar from the crowd again, only to have Tank laughing and pointing at the audience, delighted at their emotions.
Tank: What? What? I mean really what? We are in a land of kill or be killed, Jackson didn't kill me so I took him down! So now he's sitting at home, licking his wounds like the little bitch he is. But ya see, that's only the beginning, let it be known from here on out. Win! Lose! Or Draw! You're catchin' a beatin' when you step in these ropes with me! And Jackson, while you're sitting at home.... Watching.... icing your wounds, I want you to know this... You're on my hit list. Oh yea.... Anytime I see you I'm gonna beat you down til you're nothing but a broken man.... nothing but a heap of worthless shit that the rest of the locker room can clean off my boots! So you rest up this week, cause’ next week I demand a match with Jackson Montgomery.
The crowd looks stunned at the brashness of Tank, booing, but almost.... speechless at the intent of what this newcomer wanted to do.
It is then when the undeniable sound of B-17’s entrance music kicks on. The man still looked banged up from his encounter last week, but more importantly the man looked pissed! His friend had beaten Tank 1-2-3, only to be left out of the tournament due to the big man standing in the ring. This isn’t something he was gonna take lying down. Hurt or not, he was gonna get revenge.
Tank: Oh look, it’s Monty’s boyfriend. How’s it going there? I’m surprised you showed up here tonight considering how badly Kass embarrassed you last week. Awww, didn’t like watching your man take a beating? Come to be the knight in shining armor or somethin’? Get the hell outta here!
B-17 only gives Tank a sideways look, bring the mic up to his mouth, the crowd beginning to cheer his name.
B-17: We’ve got a problem here, you and B-17. Something is just not meshing. Now last week Jack, myself and Kas were attacked...three men, all in the Turmoil tournament, the only person who wasn’t attacked before their match was the walking Septic Tank. You see...I have this theory and you’ve done all you can to make yourself the prime suspect. But...while I'm not entirely certain you were involved in attacking me last week you were clearly a jealous bitch after last weeks match against Jack, and well, because of that...Tank dies first.
The crowd cheers! Getting behind B’s word, chanting louder as he finishes his thought. Meanwhile Tank looks antsy in the ring.
Tank: Hey now buddy…. Don’t get in over your head here. Look at you, still busted up from last week. Do you want me to end your career so early? Do the fans a favor and head to back, text your boyfriend, and save some face.
B-17: Busted up, hell yeah I am. As a matter of fact I made a list. B-17 pulls out a piece of paper. Two cracked ribs, bruised sternum, dislocated elbow, dislocated shoulder, three dislocated knuckles, apparently I punch too hard, one broken finger, this one (Raises middle finger in a splint)bruises on my bruises, hyperextended knee, concussion, pulled groin, and my freaking ears keep ringing...and yet the heart is still tickin’ and and the legs keep kickin’! So what are you afraid of, Grimace?
Tank moves through the ropes and to the bottom of the ramp, looking up at B-17 with the same intense anger the man had shooting down at him.
Tank: Fine! You want to go buddy? You want revenge? Tonight! You and me! ‘Cept one tiny stipulation…. We make it a hardcore match!!! Figured it’d give you a chance to experience the same beatin’ I gave to Jackson last week.
That said, B-17 drops his mic and starts heading down the ramp. At the same time Tank puts his mic down as well and slowly moves towards B, shouting insults that only the cameras close enough to the two can pick up. The men stand at the center of the ramp, staring each other down, Tank simply cracking his neck. B makes the first move by grabbing Tank by the collar, only for Daryl Bradley’s music to come on. The man in question walks out onto the stage, having acquired a fedora since the previous segment.
Bradley: For the love of god, I'm getting fed up of this.I am sick to death of you animals not showing up, needing tetanus shots, gaining four hundred pounds and trying to book your own matches. I'M THE BOSS HERE! NOT YOU! SO START TOWING THE LINE! I have a special club for you kind of people, but that will have to wait! So you know what, you want to fight, you want to kill each other, that's fine, but you're not getting paid for it. Now make it snappy, I have a show to run!
Bradley twirls his moustache as the pair begin to head towards one another as the bell rings.
Click below for hidden segment
Stopping midway through his “illustrious” entrance, Aries looks around the Allstate Arena. The fans, while not so eager to express their disdain for the former OCW World Heavyweight Champion, begin to throw small bars of white soap. Incensed by the behavior of the fans who once beloved this legend, Aries lazily bends down to pick up a bar. Bringing it close to his glasses, he notices a very clear printed font engraved into the soap. “OCW” is what it said.
The audience begin to chant “you’re disgusting”, as Aries comes to the realization that even the company which he has bled so many times for, was finally out to get him. With the face of an angered warthog, Aries turns to a small child in the front row, who happens to be eating a slice of pizza. His eyes widen as his stomach rumbles. He hadn’t eaten in almost forty minutes. Slowly, but aggressively, he walks over towards the child. The child’s face lit up like a deer in the headlights, if those headlights were attached to a rampaging Hummer.
Aries stops at the padded barricade, and with almost lightning quick reflexes, snatches the pizza slice from the child’s hand. The father of the child attempts to reach over the barricade, but when it comes to a hot slice of pizza with extra cheese; Aries is faster than Usain Bolt during a 100-meter dash. The OCW Hall of Famer mocks the child and his father by dangling the pizza slice in front of them, as if they were stray dogs and he was a king tormenting his peasants.
The former champ finally directed his attention from the family, to the pizza slice he was hanging in front of his eyes. It was like love at first sight. Time froze for Aries, as he lowered the pizza into his gaping maw. Clenching his teeth against the warm, melting cheese; he tore away at the slice of pizza like a lion would after catching his runaway prey.
Starting to get fed up with Aries’ food foreplay, some members of the audience started up a rather obscene chant, one which will not be repeated here. Hearing this chant agitated Aries, causing his face to become as red as a virgin on prom night. He was furious. Pizza in hand, Aries began to indignantly march to the ring. Feeling the ropes were too high for him to reach due to his “muscle mass”, Aries changed direction.
His marching took a left turn, towards the steel steps. As each foot crashed down onto the steps, a roaring thump reverberated through the arena. THUMP. THUMP, until finally; Aries had reached the ring apron. Being cautious after last week’s attempts to enter the ring, he slowly lifted his right leg, and placed it over the middle rope with the left foot following, making sure to also protect his beloved slice of pizza.
Feeling proud of himself, his smiled widely, even though shredded pieces of pizza crust were still very visible in his teeth. Wiping the bullets of sweat from his forehead and breathing very heavily, Aries motioned for a microphone. The announcer tossed her microphone into the ring, allowing Aries to catch it against his B-cup breast. His breathing could be heard throughout the arena, even though the microphone was nowhere near his mouth. The beating of his heart was also audible, creating a sound that can only be described as a Chinese Drum Orchestra playing a symphony at Carnegie Hall.
Aries – “Well…”
Aries pauses before finishing, allowing himself to catch his breath.
Aries – “I’M HERE! I want a damn fight!”
Aries shouts, creating a very visible spray of saliva splashing against the microphone.
Aries – “Earlier I issued an open challenge, and someone better damn well answer it!”
Pausing again, Aries wipes the continuous flow of sweat drizzling from his head. He shimmies off the pale green Hawaiian t-shirt, and tosses it outside of the ring, revealing an incredibly stained and sweaty “wife beater”.
Aries – “I am the MECCA OF MASS! A MOUNTAIN OF MUSCLE! When August Rodin was carving “The Thinker”, he was predicting the coming….”
Aries breathes in deeply before expressing his next thoughts.
Aries – “…OF A GOLDEN…GOD!”
Aries throws his arms into the air, allowing the pizza slice to dangle in front of his face once more. Again, the love story continues. He brought the slice closer to his mouth, and took a very large bite, not wasting any time. He lowered his arms, and brought the microphone back up to his mouth already filled with a chunks of pizza.
Aries – “I..” --cough, cough— “I…”—cough, cough--.
The self-proclaimed Mecca of Mass began choking on the love of his life. His face began to turn blue, as the crowd, in unison, began a chant of “Are you dying?” Aries, noticeably angry, was pounding the core of his chest, attempting to force the lodged pizza out from his being. With one final clenched fist, Aries pounded his chest, eventually spitting out the piece of pizza. The camera zoomed in on what was clearly a large portion unchewed food.
Aries – “How dar…” –cough, cough—“HOW DARE…”—cough, cough—“HOW DARE YOU!!”
Aries attempted to catch his breath after a near fatal dose of pizza.
Aries – “I AM TIRED OF THIS PLACE NOT SHOWING ME THE RESPECT I DESERVED!”
Continuing to breathe heavily into the microphone.
Aries – “I AM A LEGEND!”
Aries is seething.
Aries – “YOU KNOW WHAT?! I’M LEAVING!”
Some of the audience begin a small chant of yes, as Aries wipes the pizza and saliva residue from his uncleansed beard.
Aries – “I said it once before, and I’ll say it again…FU— “
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