Post by @whirlwind_LLC on Dec 30, 2019 17:45:52 GMT -8
Cruz Bleckley: Ladies and gentlemen at this time, making his Whirlwind Wrestling debut...Eric Havoc.
Eric Havoc, clad in an opened suit with his blazer exposed, walked around the ring as he planned to choose his words carefully, “Ladies,” He began, “And Gentlemen, my name is Eric Havoc, and I’ve been wanting to say A LOT of things for the past couple of weeks since I left the self-proclaimed, ‘Best Wrestling Company in The World’, you see, I’ve been given this live microphone, and I intend to say a lot of things before I explain why I’m here. You see, I went worked in this massive organization for nearly a year.”
Eric tapped the pop filter of the mic before continuing, digging his free hand into his pocket, “First day out, I’m dealing with a pack of cutthroat politicians instead of actual professional wrestlers, I had to deal with a champion using his influence to keep his title, while the goddamn chairman of the company was going ahead and abusing his power. I had to spend months of hell dealing with all the internal politics until I finally decided to leave, people were saying I was going into the business for myself, some respected my hustle in how much I worked my ass off, but there was one,” Eric held up a finger, “One person that cut this scathing promo on me in front of the whole locker room. Calling me a disappointment, said any apologies I was making in my attempt to mend some fences being a ‘Hollow Gesture’” He turned to the camera and smirked, “Hey, did that finally please you, baby?”
“I work my last match, but then, afterwards, I was told to film some commercial for something before I headed out the door, so I go ahead, I film, go home, I saw the finished product…And it was one blatant last ‘(bleep) you’ making me some influencer on that site that has had psychos publish their manifestos, and after that, I decided I was never heading back to that place, and instead decided to prove them wrong, there IS a life outside that place, and that’s why I’m here, I’m here to ‘Pop The Territory’ and raise this company, and change the landscape of Professional Wrestling!”
Thatcher: Another guy that thinks he can single handedly ‘change the business’…
Eric walked around the ring, “I’m here to go after the International Whirlwind Champion, and take this company to new heights, I’ll bring in the media and mainstream attention to this place and begin the catalyst of changing this industry and tearing down the status quo. As such, I’ve signed a deal with Whirlwind Wrestling to compete in the company, and I intend to bring it against this roster!”
Eric Havoc stopped in the center, smirking to himself, “Whirlwind Wrestling…You have a New Franchise Player now…” Eric dropped his microphone to the floor and began heading to the back.
A loud, booming voice played over the speakers.
Metallica’s “Seek and Destroy” hit and to a massive pop, we saw the arrival of the underground mixed martial arts legend, MAX Danger, shirtless and in a pair of track pants, while being armed with a mic.
MAX Danger: Man, you talk too much. You took up all this time to say a whole lotta nuthin’…do you ever shut up?
Havoc’s eyes rolled at the comment.
Thatcher: MAX Danger, folks, doing his part to make sure Maffew Gregg has material…
MAX Danger: Look, kid, I ain’t give a damn bout where you came from, or how they embarrassed you. You in the big leagues now. This is Whirlwind Wrestling, and I, these people, we just got one question.
Can you fight?
*POP!*
Without a wasted moment, MAX threw down the mic and ran down the aisle, with Havoc jumping out of the ring to meet him there. Havoc threw the first shot, straight to the gut, while MAX reeled, and threw a straight jab to Havoc’s chin! Havoc came back with a wide arc yakuza kick that sent MAX into the barricade, then Havoc followed through – but MAX moved – and Havoc found himself going shoulder first into that barricade! MAX then pulled Havoc off the barricade and into a half nelson. Just as MAX was about to throw him back, a swarm of event security rushed out to break up the fight. To the dismay of this Tijuana crowd, of course!
“LET THEM FIGHT!”
“LET THEM FIGHT!”
“LET THEM FIGHT!”
Thatcher: MAX Danger has a scheduled number one contender’s fight later tonight, I’m unsure why he’d put that in jeopardy here. But, someone had to introduce Eric Havoc to the way we do things here, and I can’t think of a better person for the job than MAX Danger. What a way to kick off the show though. Welcome to Seasons Past, folks!
“Ladies and gentlemen, I'm joined here at this time by the mysterious masked man, The Masked Strategist Pendragon and his student, the man perhaps with the swiftest and hardest hitting knee in all of Mexico, Sean Tuoni!”
Nikki Mynx is standing in the back as the camera pans over to Pendragon, tonight sporting a holiday (and coincidentally, Mexico) inspired color scheme of Green, White, and Red, his mask, usually black being white with green on the dragon's 'face' and red trim and accents. Next to him was Sean Tuoni wearing a red shirt with a yellow lightning bolt logo front and center, similar to the logo of superhero The Flash while keeping in the spirit with a Santa themed beanie on his head. The fans in Tijuana cheer as the duo appear on screen as Sean is all smiles while Pendragon stands with his arms crossed in his green and red ring robe.
“Tonight, Pendragon, you have a match with your friend and rival MAX Danger to determine the number one contender for the International Whirlwind Championship, one of the two of you facing the winner of tonight's match between B. Epic, James Kelloggs and Stephen Callaway, the last man being one that you had something of an alliance with in the past yourself. And you Sean, you're the talk of the town after getting your first taste of ring action, albeit in an unofficial capacity at All Hallow's Eve when you gave Monte the Python a taste of his own medicine after he tried to goad and intimidate you from ringside. Gentlemen, the floor is yours.”
Sean looks at Pendragon, the man in the mask gestures for his pupil to go first with and open palm giving him the invitation to take center stage. Sean nods and smiles as he makes sure he's standing front and center. Pendragon doesn't mind taking a back seat temporarily as he can still be seen in the shot behind and to the right; curious to see how the young man handles himself.
“Thanks, Nikki. You know, it's a pleasure and a privilege to be here; I know that. I still can't believe this is real all these months later, even after giving Monte exactly what he had coming to him after he got in my face, and hearing the best fans in the world...” The crowd pops big for the cheap pop. “Cheer Pendragon on, cheering MAX, and getting behind me as well when I delivered that lightning knee to his breadstick-crumb-covered mug! It means a lot to me; it means the world! It means the world to me to just feel the love and support of the Whirlwind Family out there.”
Sean Tuoni pauses for a moment as his grin fades as his tone turns serious. The eager, headstrong, and fun loving rookie knew when to turn up the volume and when to turn it down to get down to brass tacks; down to business.“You know, I'm a kid from Chicago; Chiraq. I grew up around violence, drive-bys, poverty. My parents had to work two jobs each just to provide for my brothers and sisters and myself, you know? Blue-collar, working class people. Nobody chooses to just barely get by, nobody chooses to be surrounded by drugs and violence and people killing each other. You get in that kind of environment, man, there's so many ways things can go wrong. Some people get into drugs, some get into gangs and committing crimes, just feeding that school to prison pipeline. But my Mom and Dad, who I know are watching at home right now, they always told me to work hard and dream big. 'Find your way out and don't look back!'” Sean pauses, the emotions running through his head would be too much for many people not used to standing in front of the camera but he managed to keep it together and retain his composure. Still, his words had a certain rawness to it, one that couldn't be coached, one that could only come from speaking from the heart. “For some people that was football, others it was basketball, music. For me? My love has always been this right here; four turnbuckles and three ropes, fighting in a sport that a fan base without peer. Whether it's in an armory in front of 50 people of right here in one of the biggest wrestling cities in Mexico; you will find magic in the ring that brings people together and leaves lasting memories that families and friends will talk about and pass down through generations. Sure, I could be like Monte or RUIN, the Meat Sauce Mafia, be happy to show up for a check and do the minimum required. I could go out there and tell my parents, 'Hey, at least I tried' and go back home and work in a liquor store, make enough to afford a place by the skin of my teeth and trap future generations of the Tuoni family in the same cycle. I didn't get into wrestling to settle, I came in here to put my heart and soul on the line and put my best foot forward every single time I step out from behind the curtains! I want to lift others up, I want us to soar together! Lucha Libre is all about honor and tradition, The American Dream is all about rising above your circumstances to achieve a better life... I don't see why these two things have to be exclusive of one another.”
Sean Tuoni looks back to Pendragon, who has remained silent this entire time, watching and observing as the young upstart cracked a smile before turning his attention forward. “Find a cause worth fighting for and always carry it with you. Find your reason for existence and you'll never lose your way. You taught me that, Pendragon, you taught me that from the first time I stepped into the Academia and took a chance on myself. Just like you want that mask to become a symbol, to mean something, I want everything I do to carry that same purpose. I promise I won't let you or any of these people down. Lightning can strike anywhere and without warning and if the Meat Sauce Mafia want to keep it up? I'll show them that lightning can strike twice!”
Pendragon nods with approval at long last as Sean Tuoni finishes and cedes the floor to him. “Well said.” While he spoke very little directly to Sean's speech the tone in his voice carried the impression that he was impressed by the passion and conviction by which his pupil spoke. Sean seems to take note of this as well as the next little bit Pendragon was about to say. “The future will light the way and create a new tomorrow, one that I hope atones for the mistakes those in the present have committed to set a new tradition of making the future brighter for each generation that comes after. Words spoken from a great prospect and an even better man, I'm proud of you, Sean.” The crowd cheers as Pendragon takes a moment for the crowd to settle down as the echos could be heard even back here. “The present is always in flux though as the possibilities of the future continue to shift and shuffle until the crucial and deciding act and the aftermath emerges. One could say that we're all members on a stage, a play called life. With everyone having their part and influence in the grand theater the act of one can shift the entire landscape and cause a series of events to unfold that nobody could see coming. I knew that when I faced off against Stephen Callaway and Joe Jones that that could be my final opportunity for the Whirlwind Championship; that it was entirely possible that despite the wide open road in front of me that it could all unravel at a moment's notice.”
Pendragon pauses as his hand drifts to his chin in thought, perhaps in a moment of reflection. “While the Art Of War dictates that whether in a position of advantage or disadvantage the opposite should always be present in your mind but that can apply to so much more than that, don't you think? Companies open and close, the winds may change at nary a moment's notice and on a whim. The seasons change do they not? What may be a bountiful harvest shall sooner or later turn into a bitter and cold winter. Whirlwind ceased operations for some time and left a lot of good people out of work. It appeared my chance at capturing the biggest prize had come and gone and that a new chapter in my life was due; then a year later I got a call. Whirlwind had emerged from the coldest of winters and reemerged, born again in a joyous spring. Doors that were closed opened once more, I guess one could call it a reversal of fortune. What once started as a contest between two friends was then interrupted by the cockroaches of society known as the Meat Sauce Mafia which led itself to a series of skirmishes of two friends united against a common foe and when that conflict reached its resolution they would be back right where they started; at least at first glance. The two friends, one in a mask and the other a mixed martial arts legend would meet once more but this time it was for oh so much more with a ticket to a championship match on the line.”
Pendragon clasped his hands together before spreading them out wide. “Mighty are the wings of the butterfly that put these events into motion!” Pendragon chuckled and it almost sounded eerie with how seldom he did so. “I have nothing but the utmost respect for you MAX; I have nothing bad to say about you. You're a class act in and outside of the ring and you're someone I'm proud to call a friend but make no mistake; when that bell rings I'm setting that friendship aside. We're both fighting for the same thing and that's for an opportunity at the International Whirlwind Championship; it's why we're all here. There are no consolation prizes, there are no moral victories to be sought; this is do or die. There's no guarantee that either one of us will ever get another opportunity at the International Whirlwind Championship, there's a good chance that this may be the last shot either of us will ever have at the gold. I refuse to take this for granted and I expect to fight a war of attrition here tonight, two of the best leaving it all in the middle of that ring. I can see that hunger in your eyes MAX, that despite your sterling record you still refuse to settle for anything less than perfection; how you constantly demand the best out of yourself. I can feel how badly you need this opportunity; it's like an electrical current surging through the air!”
Pendragon steps forward as the usually calm masked strategist was.. excited? He was! Never once raising his voice to a scream or shout he accentuates with subtle raises in the pitch of his voice with the force of a quiet storm; cool but never betraying its ferocity. “You're going to make me work for every inch gained and I would expect nothing less! You're a tough nut to crack, a man with no obvious glaring weaknesses with the intensity and drive to match. But I shall match you move for move, maneuver for maneuver, and tactic for tactic until the dust is settled and the battle is won. Tonight I'm going to show you that for how badly you want this I want it just a little bit more than you. It's going to come down to the wire, decided on the thinnest of margins and the smallest of errors. But just when you think your form is perfect I shall find the tiniest opening and find a way to break the unbreakable! MAX; tonight we're going to steal the show!”
With a flourish Pendragon walks off camera with Sean Tuoni following behind him, leaving Nikki Mynx stunned.
Outside of a questionable Gentelmen’s club somewhere in Mexico….
The building is painted pink, with the windows blacked out, an old red neon light that flickers in one of the windows next to the door to this fine establishment, reads LIVE GIRLS! And another that read NUDE. Outside the parking lot is full of lowrider Monte Carlos, Pimped out Escalades, and blinged out Bentleys on 24’s.
The front door to this “adult themed entertainment” is a dutch door. The bottom part of a dutch door opens and the camera ducks under the top part of the door and enters this play house where only god knows what will happen at night in and night out.
Making our way past the pay window and down a flight of stairs and into the “playpen”, a huge room that is mostly lite up with black lights, featuring a full bar, a huge stage with a pole in the middle of the stage. A mirror backdrop and marble tiles making up the deck of the stage giving it the appearance of being high class, when in reality, it’s just easier to clean and maintain.
The club is empty despite all of the vehicles outside. But the stage is full.
Full of half naked ladies.
One lovely lady is on all four, with a girl on each side of her, on one knee and another chick is stadling the chick on all fours, standing over her ass, thus making a chair of women, and sitting on the shoulders of the girl on all fours, with his little legs dangling down on each side of her head, leaning back and resting his head on the stomach of the chick standing in the back, and a hand on the upper inner thigh of each girl on the left and right is none other than the Bad Ass James Kelloggs.
“Sup motherfuckers! About fucking time you found me! If you didn’t get here in another 5 minutes, you would have caught me doing what I do best! And that is fucking the shit out of these bitches! Call me mister All Night Long! Call me Well Hung Low! Call me Mister Big Balls, this is how I fucking get ready for the biggest match in Whirlwind Wrestling History!”
“That’s right you stupid mother fuckers, I said the biggest match in the history of this fucking company. Forget that shit from a couple of weeks ago, that snoozefest between this chump B Epic and my best buddy Joe, tonight! Tonight, the biggest name in all of pro wrestling, mister fucking Main Event himself! Your girlfriends dirty little secret, you mom’s favorite fuck toy and the guy who shows your sister what’s what! The Bad Ass One will have all eyes on this event here tonight, and when it is all said and done, when little B Epic and his boy friend Steve Callaway tap the fuck out because they don’t have the stamina to keep up with the Bad Ass One, as I run fucking circles around them, beating their ass to a pulp while I don’t even break a sweat, because there isn’t a mother fucker in this company who can match my cardio. When I take my rightful place at the end of the fucking table, when I slap my big fucking dick down for all to marvel at, as I hoist up what should have been mine a long fucking time, all of you mother fuckers and line up one by one, kiss my ass, bask in my greatness, and suck my big veiney cock! You see, in a couple of hours from now, The outcome of the biggest match in Whirlwind Wrestling history will only have one outcome! The only outcome that makes sense, the only outcome that, of course is going to happen! The outcome of me, The Bad Ass James Kelloggs, beating two fools, displacing two mental rejects, and finally, giving this joke of a company a proper champion, a proper name that draws people in, and a champion that makes dollars and cents. For I will be your new International Champion! The time has come for the king to claim the crown.”
James leans forward in his “chair”.
“I will show no mercy in 2020. I will fuck all of the bitches, and beat all of the chumps. My reign of terror begins tonight! Now!”
James motions to wave off the camera as he glances at the chick to his left with lust in his eyes.
“I’ve got to begin my pre match stretching.”
Fade out.
Thatcher: Welcome folks, it’s not every night we start the show off with the richest prize in our business on the line, but happy holidays to each and every one of you because that’s exactly what we have for you tonight! This three-pronged war has been raging for months and now finally, at the last show of twenty-nineteen, we’re going to get our answer to whom is the most fit to carry this Championship – and with it, the company – on their back!
Cruz Bleckley: The following contest is a PRIDE Fighting Rules Match, and it is for the International Whirlwind Championship! Introducing first, to my left, he is the former International Whirlwind Champion, Stephen Callaway!
“LET’S GO STEPHIE!”
clap clap clapclapclap
Cruz Bleckley: And his first opponent, he is the smallest big time bad ass of professional wrestling. James Kelloggs!
“BOOOOOOO!”
Kelloggs meanwhile grabs at his crotch and thrusts it outward at Tijuana for their disapproval of him.
Cruz Bleckley: And lastly, is is the reigning, defending, undisputed International Whirlwind Champion, Beeeeeeeee!! EPPPPIIICCCC!!!
A roar of approval from Tijuana for the – newly crowned, of course – longest reigning International Whirlwind Champion in this company’s history clocking just over a hundred days!
Thatcher: Listen to this crowd. They sure do love their fighting champion.
Just then, a real blast from the past hits the arena as Paula Abdul’s “Straight Up” hits, welcoming former colour commentator and current journalist Nikki Mynx to the stage. Moving with the upbeat pace of the crowd, she takes her seat once more, alongside longtime partner – and friend – Derrick Thatcher.
Mynx: Happy Holidays Derrick, did you miss me?
Thatcher: Always. Wouldn’t want to call one of these matches without the eyes and ears of the Whirlwind.
Mynx: Not to mention score, right? We do make a great judging committee. Now let’s get to the action.
Ding. Ding.
Within moments, Callaway vaults across the ring, ringing James’ face with a magnitude 9.0 claymore kick!! James falls to the mat like a trash bag as Callaway goes for the quick cover! The Jazz drops down to make the count;
1!
2!
B. Epic breaks it up!
Thatcher: Stephen Callaway isn’t being paid by the hour here tonight!
Mynx: Let’s call not gloss over the lack of lost love between he and James though.
Callaway, having almost expected his former Epic Angle partner to break it up, isn’t surprised to not be walking out right now. He is surprised, however, at the swiftness of B. Epic’s foot colliding with his own chin now. B presses the advantage as he slides in with a chinlock, but Callaway quickly breaks it. The two trade arm drags and quick side headlock takedowns, ultimately ending in a stalemate in front of the other, while James quietly rolls to the outside of the ring apron. The flawless sequence receives critical acclaim from the Tijuana natives – a fact that James Kelloggs certainly won’t be taking lightly.
Mynx: Nice clean wrestling by Epic Angle here.
Thatcher: Did you expect anything else?
The two lock up once more with Callaway taking B into a rear waistlock, hurling him over his head with a belly to back suplex, but B lands on his feet! B hits the ropes while Callaway turns and drops down, prompting B to jump over him en route to the other side. Once there Callaway leap frogs, but he’s a bit early as B scouts him and puts the brakes on himself, drops down to a knee, and throat thrusts Callaway for his troubles (like it were straight out of a Goldust match…). The strike startles Callaway, which allows for B to bring his knee up into a partially gassed Callaway’s face, finally putting the former champ on the mat. B drops down into a cover, hooking the near leg as he does;
1!
2!
Callaway kicks out!
Before either of them could get up, James quickly ascended the ringpost like he were waiting all along to call his shot, then he jumped off with the “Bad Ass Bomb” (Coup de Grace) onto the both of them!
Thatcher: Unbelievable, the little guy did it!
James sits on top of the two as The Jazz starts to count the fall.
1!
BUUUUZZZ!!
Cruz Bleckley: Ladies and gentlemen, that sound means it’s the end of round one!
Cruz moves over to the announce table to confer with Derrick and Nikki. Callaway and B move back to separate corners, while James sits up, his facial expression looking like he were just robbed!
Cruz Bleckley: Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of the first fall by decision – B. Epic!
The Jazz calls for the bell and round two is underway.
James stands up as he’s caught in the middle of the two once-partners. B and Callaway nod to the other while James grins and darts toward Callaway, taking him down with a headbutt to the shin! He turns back to B, sliding between B’s legs, then sending him face first with a chop block to his hamstring! Once down, James takes the reigning Champion’s leg in his hands and pulls back on a single leg crab. B whimpers a bit but refuses to give in while James shouts obscenities back at the champ. “You stupid motherbleep just give up!” But it was no good, B wasn’t about to relinquish his Title this soon, or to a man that needed a booster seat whenever he went to Burger King! James eventually lets the hold go, however, finally moving around to the face and applying the crossface – that is until Callaway got back up and dropped an elbow on the hold. James moves however, and Callaway takes out just B, as the vision around B goes black!
Mynx: Well that ought to even things out for Kelloggs…
Thatcher: Does it? Callaway is the guy that punt kicked James into next week, I don’t think this is even at all…
“Com’ere and tell me what my boot smells like...”
“Suck my dick!’ replied James, in only the most antagonistic way possible. As if there were another way to say such a phrase, right?
Of course Callaway rushed at the pint-sized brawler, which was just what James wanted as he side stepped, then from behind, drop kicked Callaway’s knee to send him slamming across the middle rope! But it’s okay, luckily Callaway’s neck broke his fall…
James wasted no time in lighting up the former champion with stiff rights and lefts, absolutely peppering the back of Callaway. Bright red welts began forming around his kidneys as James firmly grabbed Callaway by his tights and pulled him back to the mat. With a lateral press he covered, then shouted at The Jazz to “get your ass over here”.
1!
2!
B. Epic breaks the count!
Thatcher: A great offense by James to take Callaway down to his size.
Mynx: But there’s a third man in this match, and James can’t forget about that.
James sits up, right into a standing yakuza kick from B which prompts B to pick up the diminutive badass onto his shoulders. B carries him to the corner and sits him up. An open palm strike to the chest prompts a loud obscenity from James, then B picks him up and slams him to the mat with a thunderous muscle buster!
BUUUUZZZ!!
Cruz Bleckley: Ladies and gentlemen, that sound means it’s the end of round two!
Cruz moves over to the announce table to confer with Derrick and Nikki.
At this stage, all three individuals are looking worse for wear. Callaway was slowly stirring with his back looking like a red spotted leopard, while the Champion was looking fatigued. James was curled into a ball after that muscle buster – maybe this title opportunity wasn’t a great idea…
Cruz Bleckley: Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of the second fall – James Kelloggs!
The mere mention of James’ name was enough to cause a mini revolt in Tijuana, but more importantly it woke B. Epic right up. The fact that someone else won a fall for his title, it’s time to put this match away, he knew deep down. The Jazz calls for the bell to start round three.
B stands up tall, and Callaway pulls himself to his feet. James slinks back into his corner but the two taller adversaries have alternative ideas. B drives his feet into James with a basement dropkick, an impact that lays him out against the bottom turnbuckle. Callaway then waits for B to move before barreling into a rolling boulder and splashing James against the turnbuckle with a brutal cannonball!
Thatcher: Oomph!
B gets back up and takes his place to continue the onslaught. He comes barreling at James – while Callaway comes from behind and takes B over with a crucifix pin! The Jazz finally catches it and makes the count;
1!
2 – B’s foot touches the top rope!
Cruz Bleckley: B. Epic has four rope breaks remaining!
Mynx: I’m not sure he had intended to give up a rope break there.
Thatcher: Probably not, but it happened, and Jazz called him on it. Hard call, but a good one by the veteran Jazz.
And there it was. Epic Angle stood in the ring, unlike the start, this time they weren’t a hundred percent. They knew they had been in a war, and they knew they weren’t done yet. Callaway fired the first shot with a stiff boxing jab to B’s face! The impact sent B reeling, but he’d come back with an uppercut to the gut, winding Callaway! B took Callaway into a front facelock, and dropped him – but not before Callaway kicked B’s leg out from under him. The end result...was the ugliest DDT you’ve ever seen. Callaway went face first to the mat while B happened to land face first in the rock hard abdomen of Callaway. Technically, that was a pinfall and as such, Jazz dropped down to count the fall;
1!
2!
Callaway rolls the shoulder off the mat!
Thatcher: Desperation kick out by Callaway there.
Mynx: I agree, he’s completely out of it, yet somehow is still fighting.
Thatcher: That’s what being the International Whirlwind Champion means to him. The Heart of a Champion…
With Epic Angle down, James slowly gets to his feet. Somehow he was the only one standing?? He shakes his head and knocks the cobwebs loose, then runs across the ring to climb the ropes closest to the two. They still haven’t moved. He looks down, takes a deep breath and crosses himself, before finally leaping into the unknown…
The “Bad Ass Bomb” (Coup de Grace)!!
Out of instinct B. Epic rolls away...and James crashes down on Callaway’s back with full impact! The entirety of Tijuana drops to silence as James rolls Callaway onto his back before draping an arm over the former champion…
Mynx: Oh my God.
1!
B. Epic sits up onto his elbows.
2!
B. Epic lunges at James in a haze.
…
…
…
…
…
3!
B. Epic collides with the pinfall!
Thatcher: …
Cruz Bleckley: Ladies and gentlemen, your winner as a result of a pinfall…
Mynx: Oh no.
Kid Rock’s “American Badass” plays…
Cruz Bleckley: ….AND NEW, International Whirlwind Champion; JAAAAAMMMEEEESSSSS!!! KEEEEELLLLOOOGGGGGSSSSSS!!!
Thatcher: He…he wasn’t fast enough.
Mynx: It was so sudden. The dream for B. Epic is over, and all in the blink of an eye.
Thatcher: He didn’t even lose the title himself…
Mynx: But he didn’t beat the then-champion either.
The Jazz takes the International Whirlwind Championship and drapes it across James’ chest. James was only just starting to realize what had just happened. What he had just done, amid all the doubters he had heard it from over the years…
“you’re a joke”
“you can’t do it”
“this is a big man’s game”
“you have to be this tall to ride this ride”
For the first time in James Kelloggs’ career, he had done it. He had become a World Champion…
And Tijuana could not have been any more disgusted. Plates of half eaten nachos and partially eaten burritos were pelting the ring, James, and the title itself. Empty beer cups littered the ringside area, and one twelve year old boy in particular tried jumping the rail, until event security had stopped him. Amid all of that however, the truth didn’t change.
James Kelloggs was International Whirlwind Champion. Full. Stop.
Mynx: Derrick, it’s always a pleasure calling these matches with you, but I have to attend to the news now. If you’ll excuse me.
Thatcher: Of course, Nikki. Go have your fun. I’ll enjoy having the best seat in the house. Stop by any time.
Mynx: I’ll take you up on that offer haha.
We jump cut to the concessions area where one such event security staff is shown, attempting to keep the concession lines at least some semblance of orderly.
"Ladies and gentlemen quiet down. my name is Kyle Ryan its my first day working security and I'll be checking your tickets to get you in the building. Please have your tickets out and bags open. How quickly this process goes is completely up to you."
Kyle let's a few fans through the door but puts his hand up stopping an adult male fan.
Kyle Ryan: Hold up a sec nomophobe (a term describing a fear of being without a mobile or tech device)…that cellphone is gonna have to stay with me.
The man chuckles at Kyle Ryan
"Umm what are you talking about? I can't take my cell phone inside?"
Kyle Ryan : Nope. It stays with me. Just go inside, have a seat and watch the show.
Male fan: Sir I need my phone. There's not even a sign anywhere that says no cell phones allowed inside the building.
Kyle Ryan pulls out a crumbled piece of paper.
Kyle Ryan: This might seem confusing to you techies but this right here is a piece of paper and on this paper is a set of very strict rules that you and these fans behind you are going to follow.
The crowd begins to grow more unruly now as they’re held up before getting back to their seats.
Kyle Ryan : Hey you all need to quiet down or none of you will get inside.
Male fan: Look man I'm really not trying to make a huge deal out of this or cause any trouble. Could you please let me inside? I already paid for my ticket.
Kyle Ryan grabs the man by his shirt and pushes him to the wall.
Kyle Ryan: Oh I'm sorry do you only understand what I'm saying through text messages and emojis? Let me make this clear for ya. You don't get inside the building until you give me your phone!
Kyle Ryan backs off the male fan and dusts off his wrinkled shirt.
Male fan trying to catch his breath quickly hands over his cell phone to Whirlwind’s newest security.
Kyle Ryan: Thank you very much and enjoy the show sir. Ladies and gentlemen please place all cell phones and gadgets inside this bin before entering the building thank you.
Thatcher: Finally. Feels like it was forever ago when we were supposed to see these two OGs of last season fighting it out, but now the Meat Sauce Mafia is dealt with, thee other detractors are out of the way, now these two can find out whom is best – and become the next number one contender in the process!
Ding. Ding.
As the two approach, MAX extends a big right, catching Pendragon hard in the side of his face! MAX presses his advantage with a series of body strikes that end in a snap suplex, and an early one count on the masked strategist, whom quickly rolls outside of the ring to catch his breath.
Thatcher: MAX flexing his superior reach early on. Pendragon might be more technically sound, but if he can’t get in close, then all that technique will be for nothing. MAX, clearly, is very well studied on his opponent…
Pendragon nods in respect of his adversary before sliding back into the ring again. He stands, calmly now, and with his hands behind his back in wait – almost daring – MAX to make a move. MAX looks confused, but he shoots for the head anyway, which prompts Pendragon to shoot behind him and twist the arm up and into the center of MAX’ spine. From there MAX is mostly helpless, and Pendragon sweeps his leg in front of MAX’, taking him to the mat and following through with a seated rear mount, slapping the sides of MAX’ head! Pendragon then reaches his hands around MAX’ neck, pulling up on the beginnings of a camel clutch, but this MAX is able to break, and roll directly away from the strategist.
Thatcher: Pendragon with that Patient Defense. Was he a Monk in a past life…because I think he’s just the type of man I’d foresee breaking out into a flurry of blows.
MAX rolls back and sits up on a knee, staring up at Pendragon, who's masked eyes stare stoically back at the underground fighting legend. At least, it appeared as those it were a stoic stare. Can’t really see through a mask now…
Pendragon stood calmly in the center of the ring, almost goading MAX back into the center. “C’mon, get up.” Cautiously this time, MAX does so, and in a flash he charges like an uncontrollable minotaur at the masked man, whom calmly sidesteps, then trips MAX! MAX stumbles forward into the ropes, allowing Pendragon to slither behind him, grab him with a rear waistlock, and hurl him back with a belly to back suplex! MAX lands shoulders first and folds up like an accordion, which Pendragon uses to his advantage by pinning him with his weight added to the precarious position for more leverage. Farva drops down to count the fall;
1!
2!
MAX kicks out!
Thatcher: MAX better figure out the key here quick before his chances to fade away.
Pendragon again resumes his patient defense stance, while MAX gets back to his feet. He stares momentarily before going full Karate Kid. He lifts his left leg into a crane kick and dares Pendragon to do something. Pendragon cocks his head to the side – when MAX lunges forward, his foot nearly decapitating Pendragon! Pendragon hits the mat quick as MAX places one foot over his back and steps up, placing all the weight of his near three hundred pound frame onto Pendragon’s torso! Pendragon yelps out as MAX quickly transitions from foot press to quick elbow drop, again crushing the lower back. Then MAX positions himself with Pendragon in a side headlock on the mat, his arms growing tigher around the masked man as every second passes. Farva drops down to check on the hold.
“You okay? Do you want to quit?” Pendragon shook his head no, to which MAX pulled up on the hold to try again, so to speak.
Pendragon audibly was having a hard time of it, but his hand vigorously shook no in front of him. As he tried to fight out of the hold, MAX climbed to his knee and then his feet, still maintaining the side headlock as he did. MAX wrenched on it once more, until Pendragon pushed him off and into the ropes. MAX hit perfectly, and spun around, as Pendragon readied himself, MAX changed the game and put himself into a human torpedo, plowing through Pendragon’s body with a spear no one had seen!
Thatcher: Whoa! Ball game!
Pendragon took the sudden jarring impact, his shoulders first making contact to the mat as MAX emphatically dropped down into a cover and hooked both legs;
1!
2!
Pendragon rolls the shoulder off the mat!
Thatcher: I thought our masked strategist was doomed there, honestly.
MAX pops back to his feet, the match picking up to the pace he preferred. He reared his hand back and it was obvious what was coming next.
Thatcher: “Let’s Get Dangerous”. That KO punch will put anyone out!
With a discus spin, MAX lurches forward at Pendragon, but Pendragon low-bridges himself like he were cast in The Matrix, and MAX’ punch goes super wide! Pendragon then rotates his body three-hundred sixty degrees and comes up with a Pele Kick, dazing MAX where he stood! Quickly, Pendragon jumps to the second rope, then back off with a “turn of the tides” (Disaster Kick) that sends MAX face first to the mat! Pendragon was coming back into his stride here, and Tijuana was feeling it! With a quick flex, he shouts “COME ON!” at the underground fighter, then drags him to his feet with a tug of his ear. A quick kick to the gut doubles over MAX and allows Pendragon to grab the tights and lift (an impressive feat on it’s own!) MAX with a snap suplex! But wait, Pendragon hasn’t released the suplex form; he twists his hips and brings MAX back up with him, drilling him with a second suplex!
Thatcher: That’s two! Pendragon’s taking MAX on “Three Visits”, to Suplex City!
Again Pendragon twists the hips and shoots MAX up with him, but this time MAX catches him with an elbow to the face, and in the blink of an eye POW!
The crowd gasp in shock of the sudden strike!
“Let’s Get Dangerous” (Big Show’s Knock Out Punch) connects right to Pendragon’s jaw. As he falls in a heap on the mat!
Thatcher: Get it MAX, now is your chance!
MAX quickly drops down to cover with a hook of the near leg as Farva hops down to his knees to count;
1!
2!
3 – No, Pendragon manages to drape his leg over the bottom rope!
Thatcher: Big mistake by MAX, if only he would have hooked the far leg…
MAX sits up and questions Farva, no one has ever kicked out of his KO punch, surely this had to be – when Pendragon quickly grabs MAX around the neck and throat area and wraps MAX up in the “Gaes” (Tazmission)! MAX flails around, but his positioning from the pin put his back to the ropes, and with Pendragon between them. There was no relief in sight! Slowly, MAX’ flailing begins to stop, and Farva does his referee duties;
He raises MAX’ arm once – it falls haplessly to the mat!
He raises MAX’ arm twice – it falls haplessly to the mat!
Pendragon pulls back on his famed submission hold even more;
Farva raises MAX’ arm thrice – it falls haplessly to the mat! Farva waves off the match and calls for the bell! Kamelot’s “Karma” begins to play as Pendragon releases the submission.
Cruz Bleckley: Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of the match as a result of a submission, AND THE NNNEEEEWWWWW Number One Contender to the International Whirlwind Championship – PEEENNNDDRRRAAAGGGOOONNN!!!!
While Farva holds Pendragon’s arm up, he can’t help but look over at MAX. “Helluva match we just had,” he thought to himself. “Respect.”
Thatcher: Wow. That’s what I was hoping to see from these two all the way back at Genesis Wave. In a pure athletic contest that honestly could have seen either man win at any moment, at the end, it was Pendragon whom realized his destiny more. You can’t help but feel for MAX Danger, whom still hasn’t found that big “signature win” yet, but we see you MAX. You’re one of us. On this night however, the applause belongs to Pendragon.
Pendragon, while clutching his sides and holding his face leaves the ring to MAX in a show of respect. MAX then pushes himself up to his knee as he looks around Tijuana to see them all on their feet for him.
“MAX!”
“MAX!”
“MAX!”
He takes it all in. MAX Danger, a legend of underground mixed martial arts, boasting of a record of one-hundred twenty-nine wins and zero losses, yet still incredibly humble coming into professional wrestling. It’d be easy for someone to expect the world with an unprecedented record like that, but MAX had no issues starting at the bottom and earning his way up.
Thatcher: MAX Danger, folks.
Just then his wife Francine appears at the entrance way and starts walking her way down when suddenly, a man in dark denim jeans and a denim hooded jacket hops the barricade and slides into the ring behind MAX! A punch to the head takes him down, then the man mounts him and delivers punch after punch after punch to the big guy before standing tall over him, arms out-stretched...as swarms of event security rush to the ring. Before they can enter, the man pushes the hood back to reveal…
Thatcher: Eric Havoc! He’s not done with their fight before!
From his denim jacket, he pulls out something – a lead pipe – but before he could use it, security quickly gets into the ring and holds him back. Can’t fight thirty people at once, and so he allows the team to escort him out, back through the crowd and away from the scene. The others turn to see Francine rushing to the ring to check on her husband as we cut back to Thatcher.
Thatcher: You hate to see these kinds of moments end like this. Eric Havoc is a punk kid that’s trying to get his moment at the expense of a man that just wrestled a helluva match. But on the other hand, was he justified? After all no one told MAX Danger to go out there and interrupt his earlier diatribe at the start of the show…folks, stay tuned to dot com for more to this MAX and Eric story as it develops, meanwhile we’ve still got a Gulf Coast Championship main event, and we hear that young upstart Ace Sky will be here in just a few minutes once we get things cleaned up. Stick around.
We jump cut to the back with Veronica Taylor and Bianca Davis. The two were engaged in a series of bitchy, catty giggles with each throwing their heads in laughter. But the tone of the night was anything but funny for Veronica as she’d have to defend her title against the rampaging Mastodon, without the benefit of rules to skirt around to save her reign.
“…and then, like, that filthy basic beast actually thought he could touch me.” - Veronica trailed off with.
“Ugh, like, totally, people like him are so totally the worst.” - Bianca chimed in.
“I can’t believe I actually have to...” Veronica trailed off, rubbing the faceplate of her Gulf Coast Championship as she did, “But after this, after tonight when WE put that dumb beast down, that’s it, there’ll be no more title shots for Mastobasic!”
“And I’ve got just the plan...” Bianca said, as she pulled out the signature bottle of perfume, ‘Veronica’s Secret’. “One whiff of this, and he’ll be sooooo in lust that he’ll never be able to fight you again!”
Veronica put her hands up and shook her head no, “Eww, gag me with a spoon! Like I want that filthy dweeb following me around!”
“Do you have a better idea?” Bianca asked curiously.
Veronica didn’t respond. Instead, she turned and walked away. With Bianca following close behind.
Back in the ring, we see Ace Sky in the center of the ring with a microphone in his hand. The crowd was lukewarm to the kid that just had his debut contest at the One Night Only show. Just as he was about to speak, instead he was interrupted by the “Olive Garden Club Mix” which caused him to look to the entrance area to see Monte the Python entering out…
BAM!
A quick cut back to the ring shows RUIN stood over Ace Sky, the young kid lay motionless on the mat. RUIN sits on the kid’s back and applies a full, Iron Sheik style Camel Clutch backbreaker! Monte took his sweet time sauntering to the ring while Ace furiously tried tapping out on RUIN’s calf, to no avail because this isn’t a match. Once in the ring, Monte produced a mic to further berate the young kid.
Monte the Python: You think these people care, about your little win? Wrestling isn’t about the past, son, it’s about the now. You only as strong as your last moment kid, and your last?
Monte drops the mic and curb checks Ace’s face with his boot! RUIN finally lets the submission go and takes the mic that Monte dropped.
RUIN: Your last moment kid, is gettin’ shipped in the back of an ambulance. Don’t let the door hit ya on the ass on the way out.
Thatcher: Really? A despicable sneak attack with the numbers advantage to boot…the Meat Sauce Mafia makes me sick!
As EMTs rush around the ring to cart Ace Sky off, RUIN takes the opportunity to have a pose down with his forty-two inch pythons (brother), while Monte flashes his trademark “I can’t believe I’m getting paid for this” grin.
Backstage, we see the only fifth generation talent in the business today, Geoffrey Thomas Anderson the Fifth (or GTAV for short). The setting was plain, no logos or other pagentry. Just a camera and a man more arrogant than he is old. On his face he wore a plastic reconstructive mask, a symbol of remembrance for the headbutt heard round the world – courtesy of Hideaki Hideyoshi – but under the mask brewed anger. The anger of a man forced out of action for months following emergency surgery.
“Hideaki. Hiiiiddeeeaaaakkkkiiiiiii……………...”
The words seem to escape his lips, but no sound is made.
“We came into the company at the same time, and we put on the match of the night, but everywhere I go it’s Hideaki this, Hideaki that. It’s never ‘hey, that GTAV kid is something special.’ Why. You can’t have a good match without two great athletes. But you’re the one that gets the fame while I’m the one...sat at home.”
He looks away from the camera.
“What if it were you? What if I broke your nose? What if I sent you home, and I got the money, the fame, the championships, the ladies? What if *I* got the recognition? Tch.”
GTAV looks back dead ahead at the camera once more.
“Enjoy your twenty-nineteen, kid. Enjoy your bubbly, watch the ball drop. Cause in twenty-twenty, your time is up. And MY time, is now!”
As the show rolls on, the camera pans in on a female fan taking a selfie. Kyle Ryan and his security team walks through the crowd…
Thatcher: Oh no, not this guy again…
Kyle Ryan: Ma'am hand over the phone please.
Female fan: Why what did I do?
Kyle Ryan: We have a strict no cell phone or tech gadget policy.
By now the live footage of Kyle Ryan harassing this fan has made it on screen, and these Tijuana locals are not at all pleased with his antics.
Kyle Ryan: Ma'am how quickly this process goes is up to you. Just hand over the phone or I'll have to ask you to leave the building.
Female: Are you kidding me? I didn't do anything.
Kyle Ryan gives a signal to his female security guard to remove the female fan from the building. The crowd loudly boos as he makes his way to ringside, over the guardrail and inside the ring and grabs a microphone.
Kyle Ryan: Ladies, gentlemen and nomophobes around the world. My name is Kyle Ryan and it's my first day working security."
“YOU’RE A DICK!”
“YOU’RE A DICK!”
“YOU’RE A DICK!”
Kyle Ryan: If I'm a dick because I enforce the rules then so be it!
“BOOOOOOO!”
Kyle Ryan: All I see in this crowd are tech addicts. You idiots don't understand anything if it isn't delivered to you through a text message or an emoji. It's pathetic! While I continue to work here as a security guard, I will make it my mission to make sure that whatever happens between these ropes stays between these ropes.
“BOOOOOOO!”
“BOOOOOOO!”
“BOOOOOOO!”
Kyle Ryan: None of the historic moments that happen in this ring will be turned into a gif for your enjoyment. From this point forward what happens in this ring will be sacred!
“YOU SUCK!”
“YOU SUCK!”
“YOU SUCK!”
Kyle Ryan: Oh you don't understand what I'm saying? Fine! Let me make this crystal clear so even you nomophobes can understand me. Here's an emoji from to all of you.
Kyle Ryan sticks up his middle finger at the crowd as he leaves the ring.
Thatcher: I don’t…I don’t know what we just witnessed. But for a first day on the job either the power has gone to his head, or he’s gone totally nuts. This is end of a decade and start of twenty-twenty. A time when social media rules the world. You can’t take the social world away from the people. This can’t possibly end well…
I’m sorry folks.
Backstage Double J Joe Jones is walking through some area on his way somewhere when Nikki Mynx stops him.
Nikki “Joe! Joe! Can I get just a few moments of your time?”
Joe stops, and slowly removes his shades and snaps the ear pieces inwards looking rather annoyed.
Joe “Fine, I guess.”
Nikki “I have to ask, how do you feel about the outcome of your match against B Epic at One Night Only? We haven’t heard from you since that loss to the International Whirlwind Champion.”
Joe takes a deep breath as he gathers his thoughts, you can see that the loss weights on him and he’s not in a good mood. Just as he speaks, he is interrupted.
“I think the question you should be asking…” Nanook says as he waddles into the picture. He stands across from Joe with a smirk on his face, Joe’s face starts to turn red with anger and poor Nikki is caught between them, fighting for space with Nanook’s huge belly. “Is, Is it true that was your last match we ever have to sit through? Because, quite frankly, At One Night Stand, you put a whole nation of normally, very excited wrestling fans, to SLEEP!”
Joe “Big talk from a fat fuck who hasn’t been in the ring in, what? A decade? Pretty sure you haven’t seen you dick in twice that amount of time.”
Nanook “There’s the Joe we all come to love, making dick jokes. Tell me Joe, how does it feel to see B Epic just smash your beloved record?”
Joe “That flash in the pan couldn’t match me on my worst day…”
Nanook “So? Night One Stand was an off night for you? Should I go talk to the office and set that rematch up for you, maybe next time you’ll be ready?”
Joe “I can get my own matches book thank you. Remember? I own your company now, it’s sorta my thing.”
Nanook “Only that you suck at it. If getting guys work is your deal, how come Bester is never in that ring?”
Joe “Jesus Fatty, read a doctors report once in a while. Best has a bum shoulder.”
Nanook “Weird? I’ve had three doctors clear him for action.”
Joe is about to respond when he is interrupted again. This time by Sutton. He walks up behind Nanook and this startles Nanook some.
? “In that case…”
Joe “Nanook, I believe you're quite aware of the exploits of Billy Sutton...meet my my newest client, fresh signed on the Whirlwind dotted line...”
Sutton slowly walks past his former manager, bumping him with his shoulder as he taps on the lid of his Skoal, Long cut Wintergreen chew with his thumb and stands next to Joe.
Sutton “I think, you should go, you know, get that Special Needs jerkoff, and, I don’t know.”
Sutton pops open his can of chew, takes a pinch and holds it for a second as he stares down Nanook.
Sutton “Tell his ass to get ready. Cuz I’ve been itching fer a fight.”
Sutton stuffs his bottom lip with chew.
Sutton “Der is nuttin’ more I want to do more than pop that window licker in his stupid mouth. Especially, after puttin’ up with his stupid ass all of des years. Know what I mean? Chubby.”
Nanook lets out a huff.
Nanook “This guy. Just look at him Nikki. Thinks he’s all of that and a bag of chips. Just wanders in from gods knows where, and demands a match with an athlete that is ten times better than him. This is a man Nikki, who just couldn’t cut in Tennessee. He had everything anyone would have killed for. A natural ability to not only take a beating, but dish it out. The fans loved him for some reason, they just loved NASCAR Billy. Then he got paid, and suddenly he wanted to be a race car driver, pissed away all of his money. Then there was, what was her name? Remind me? Oh? Why can’t I remember her name? The Mrs Sutton, who in less than a year of marriage, wanted a divorce and took half of his empire. Yeah then it was one trailer park whore after another and before long Nikki, Billy here was flat ass broke, living in an RV with some tatted up, fat bimbo looking for work because the great state of Tennessee showed him the door due to the fact he just couldn’t life up to the hype. You’re nothing but, all, talk. On your best day.”
Sutton goes to step forward when Joe puts his hand on his shoulder and pulls him back.
Joe “Then why don’t you waddle your stubby legs down that hallway and tell them to make the match, mouth. This is a match the whole wrestling world has been asking for for far too long. Sutton, Bester. Two big brawlers throwing down. You know Sutton is more than ready, but is Bester? I mean, if he is truly cleared to wrestle.”
Nanook “OH! He’s cleared!”
Sutton then spits this huge stream of chew spit at Nanook’s nice shoes, this causes both Nikki and Nanook to leap backwards, I mean, it is pretty disgusting. Nikki looks like she wants to hurl.
Sutton “Den it’s settled. Tell da leader of da kitten brigade dat Ima see him real soon in dat der ring. Then we’ll see whos all talk.”
Nanook looks down at his shoes and looks up at Sutton, disgusted by the spit on his shoes.
Nanook “He’ll be there. I promise you that!”
Sutton grins. “Lookin’ forward to it.”
Joe pats Sutton on the chest and they turn and leave, leaving Nikki, who covers her mouth and runs away to puke somewhere by the looks of it, and Nanook, pissed.
Hard Candy & Lego Deathmatch and ACE Wrestling Holiday Show 12/21/2014
The cameras pan around the arena to see presents big and small strewn about the ringside area, and, hey, even the decorated Christmas tree from the Seasons Beatings Bash is still up. If you look closely, you can see the piece of turkey that Mac dropped on the floor, too.
Jason Alfonso: Ladies and gentlemen the following is the contest you have all been waiting for! It is the Hard Candy and Lego Handicap Deathmatch! And it is your main event of the Holiday evening!
*Ding. Ding. Ding.*
Spotlights begin to strobe rapidly around the arena (yes, if you have epilepsy, you should probably shield your eyes) as smoke begins to cover the floor in front of the entrance tunnel as THE Parker Van Peters enters from the back. He is wearing a white fur coat and is carrying a large red sack over his shoulder. He has his head lowered, but you can see him snicker to himself as the crowd boos. He slowly raises his head, and opens his coat displaying the ACE Pacific-Southwest Championship.
Jason Alfonso: Ladies and Gentlemen, entering the ring now…..He is the ACE Pacific-Southwest Champion, and the self-proclaimed Dynasty, this is THE! PARKER! VAN! PETERS!
THE Parker Van Peters walks down the ramp, showing off his title and laughing as the boos from the crowd seemingly empower him. He climbs up the ring steps and wipes his feet on the ring apron. THE Parker Van Peters then climbs into the ring, and opens with arms wide. He snaps and the referee reluctantly comes over and removes his white fur jacket. THE Parker Van Peters then heads over to a turnbuckle and starts to climb it.
THE Parker Van Peters Climbs onto a turnbuckle and unsnaps his title belt. He holds it high by the strap as the music fills the air and the crowd erupts in a chorus of boos. He begins to scream back at the crowd.
THE Parker Van Peters: This is mine! All Mine! I am The Dynasty!
He slaps the front plate of his title and hops down. HE then walks over to the opposite corner and does the same motion. The music plays and he continues to yell back at the crowd, pointing out their inadequacies and such.
The lights return to normal with THE Parker Van Peters in the center of the ring.
THE Parker Van Peters: Ladies and gentlemen your champion is here. Feel free to react appropriately
THE Parker Van Peters rolls his eyes.
THE Parker Van Peters: This Christmas season, THE Parker Van Peters decided he wanted to give back this year. After all God has blessed THE Parker Van Peters and cares for me way more than He does for any of you people. But THE Parker Van Peters has felt led to do this. That's right, THE Parker Van Peters has gifts for you, the children!
THE Parker Van Peters jumps out of the ring and approaches the side with all the Sunshine Acres orphans in the front row.
Joseph Kahn: Really? Well this is a shock, I must admit. Has that Championship changed Parker for the better?
Johnny Deep: THE Parker Van Peters isn't obligated to change to please you - if you have a problem, you can get over it, or kick rocks!
THE Parker Van Peters reaches into the sack and passes out boxes to the rows of orphans. The kids' eyes light up with a smile as they open them, then they frown as they look at a piece of paper inside the boxes. THE Parker Van Peters steps back with a concerned expression.
THE Parker Van Peters: You may feel free to thank your benevolent champion. Those are savings bonds. In 10 years time, those bonds will mature and you will have 50 bucks waiting for you. You're welcome.
Johnny Deep: Oh, how thoughtful of our Champion!
Joseph Kahn: What?! Gim'me a break! Of everything he could do, he gives these kids some boring old savings bonds?! Come on now...
THE Parker Van Peters: Oh, THE Parker Van Peters gets it. Now you're sad. So THE Parker Van Peters will give you your real present...it's getting to watch me, standing here, proudly on display as your Champion of the Pacific-Southwest!
THE Parker Van Peters drops the empty sack on the floor and looks up, shutting his eyes and out-stretching his arms in receipt of the "praise" he expects from his "loyal subjects". Of course that's not what he received. But you probably already knew that.
THE Parker Van Peters opens his eyes to see the reaction for his selfless deed was not as he anticipated. He brings the mic back to his mouth furiously!
THE Parker Van Peters: Boo me?! Boo you! THE Parker Van Peters spent his hard-earned money, part of his Champion's Bonus mind you, to get gifts for all of you worthless brats, but THE Parker Van Peters gets heat because "it's not enough" of a gift for you?! I guess I shouldn't expect anything less from a group of spoiled kids sponging off MY tax dollars to keep you fed, clothed, and a roof over your head!
Joseph Kahn: Oh that's just such a low, despicable -- GRR!
THE Parker Van Peters: Maybe I shouldn't even have bothered. The Parker Van Peters is the embodiment of Greatness, At Any Cost! And every single one of you is the embodiment of bitter, petty jealousy!
Joseph Kahn: Oh my! Business is about to pick up!
PVP looks up, frozen in fear as Flame Puppy comes darting out of the entrance tunnel without even waiting for her announcement! As she reaches the end of the aisle PVP runs back near the announce table, just in time for Red & Green lights to start flashing on the stage and "Jingle Bell Rock" playing out over the PA system, much to the crowd's excitement!
The song continues until a noticeable voice booms over the speakers.
To which the crowd responds with a resounding "YES!" PVP looks around nervously as the voice continues on.
The crowd blows the roof off in approval as Josh Eagles reveals himself as he jumps the barricade opposite PVP! Flame Puppy comes around from the left, and Josh closes on the right! Josh is wearing a Santa beard and a Santa hat. His tights are green with candy canes on the side and Eagles written across the butt in red. He is wearing red boots, matching red and green elbow pads, and is wearing a fake silk unbuttoned Santa Shirt.
Jason Alfonso: Introducing, making his Awesome Championship Entertainment debut, he weighs 230 pounds and hails from Ottawa, Ontario, Canada. He is the #MainEvent, the #ShowStealer he is JOSH EAGLES!!!! And his partner, from the Austin, Tx Pokemon Center, she stands 5' 3" and is the current reigning, and defending ACE Junior Pro Champion...FLAME! PUPPY!
Joseph Kahn: What a night! The legendary Josh Eagles is making his in ring debut right here in ACE!
Johnny Deep: Even though this is just a one night deal, Josh Eagles appears to be in the holiday spirits and there is no doubt the fans are loving it.
Joseph Kahn: Don't forget Flame Puppy too! Her friendship with Josh goes way back to last summer in the former SKYFIRE Pro! Now she is teaming with her friend, and fighting her mortal rival! It's a Christmas miracle!
Puppy closes on PVP while PVP dives back and grabs a small present from the floor. Josh comes closer as PVP stands back up. Puppy comes up behind PVP, but PVP swings the present back, popping Puppy on the nose! He turns back around and swings at Josh, but Josh ducks! PVP swings back, but Josh side steps and PVP’s swing goes wide! Puppy steps back and slaps PVP in the back of his head, distracting him, which allows Josh to rip the present from PVP’s hands! Josh grins, rears back, and SMASHES the box off of PVP’s face! PVP stumbles around before Puppy grabs him and shoves him into the ring apron! PVP lets out a wheeze from the impact while Puppy and Josh look at each other and nod. Puppy leaps in the air to dropkick PVP’s spine as Josh blasts the back of his head with the present one more time! PVP takes the full impact and falls back, arms and legs sprawled outward!
Joseph Kahn: PVP thought he was smart, but his present surprise backfired!
Johnny Deep: I’m glad you’re supporting our Champion getting shown up…
Joseph Kahn: Johnny. I’m fairly certain everyone supports anybody who beats up on Parker.
Josh pulls PVP away from the ring skirt while Puppy dives under the ring, before pulling out…a giant candy cane! PVP reaches up to deliver a pair of jabs to Josh’ face, before looking up just in time to see Puppy’s giant candy cane come down on his head – but it hits the floor as PVP scrambles out of the way! Puppy turns around to see PVP roll into the ring under the bottom rope! Puppy and Josh huddle up for a quick moment before she jumps up on the apron, and Josh runs around to a different side. PVP looks to the Puppy side, and she stops. Josh grabs the rope and starts to pull himself up, but PVP looks to that side, and Josh backs off! Puppy starts to climb in the ring, but PVP gets closer, and Puppy stops. Josh climbs up on his side again, and PVP dashes over to him, driving his knee into Josh’s gut, and sending him crashing off the apron and to the floor below! PVP smirks and mimes a crying motion to Josh before turning to see Puppy stepping through the ropes again. PVP darts over to Puppy, BUT HE EATS A CANDY CANE SHOT TO THE HEAD! PVP staggers around while Puppy raises the cane up and smacks him upside his head again! Finally Puppy winds up and smacks PVP across his gut, breaking the cane and sending PVP to crumple to his knees! Puppy raises the two pieces of candy cane in the air, and receives a massive pop for her efforts!
Joseph Kahn: I guess you could say he just got lit up…like a Christmas tree?
Johnny Deep: Don’t ever do that again.
Joseph Kahn: Look at Josh. That knee must’ve hit just the right spot.
Josh slowly gets up, albeit holding his ribs. He makes his way to the ring skirt and lifts it up before pulling out a small brown baggie. He holds it up for the crowd to see as he points at Puppy to direct her to the Christmas tree.
Joseph Kahn: Oh my! What’s in the baggie!?
Johnny Deep: Hopefully it’s some Anti-Eagles powder.
Josh climbs back in the ring under the bottom rope and stands up over PVP. Meanwhile Flame Puppy climbs up the Christmas tree, and steadies herself at the top next to the angel.
Joseph Kahn: I hope that tree is sturdy!
Josh holds up the baggie and flashes a HUGE grin before opening the bag and holding it up for everyone to see!
Josh nods his head and turns the bag upside down to reveal…A FIELD OF CANDY CORNS POURING OUT INTO THE CENTER OF THE RING! Josh gives Puppy the thumbs up, and Puppy raises her arm up and points at her elbow before shouting “IHOP!” The crowd responds in kind.
Puppy takes a quick breath and leaps off, aiming her “IHOP Drop” (Diving Elbow Drop) to PVP – BUT PVP ROLLS OVER! PUPPY HITS THE CANDY CORNS! Josh stressfully grabs at his hair, completely agonized over Puppy’s miss! He quickly runs over to check on her!
“HOLY SHIT!”
The arena fell to a dead silence.
Joseph Kahn: These are those times when you realize the risks these individuals take are real.
Johnny Deep: I’m with you, Joseph. It’s all fun and games until someone dives into candy corn.
“The Jazz” stays close to Puppy as he continues to try and get an answer from her. Josh stands over her, still in shock. PVP gets up to a knee and looks up to see all the commotion around Puppy. He takes another breath and silently gets to his feet and creeps up behind Josh, grabbing him and lifting him up and slamming him HARD into the mat with the “#SWAGplex” (Cobra Clutch Suplex)! PVP flips Josh over and covers him with a lateral press…but “The Jazz” is still tending to Puppy. PVP slaps the mat to get his attention. But “The Jazz: ignores him. Finally, he shouts. “Hey, Jazz, count my pin!” “The Jazz” looks over and quickly dives into position to count the fall.
1!
2!
Josh kicks out!
PVP glares at “The Jazz”. “You just cost me a victory!”
A couple of ACE medics finally come down to the ring with a stretcher, only to be met with disapproval from the crowd!
The medics push the stretcher in the ring, to which PVP smirks.
Joseph Kahn: Why is he so happy about one of his co-workers being hauled out? This isn’t how you want these matches to end…
Johnny Deep: Think about it. Without Flame Puppy, Parker only has to focus on Josh. His chances of winning just drastically went up.
PVP goes back to Josh. He stares down at him before delivering a pair of sick, twisted stomps, to Josh’s face! Josh recoils and tries to cover up his face before PVP does a third stomp! Meanwhile the medical officials have Puppy strapped into the stretcher and have begun transporting her out of the ring. PVP offers a casually sarcastic wave before turning back to Josh. He looks around him to see the broken candy cane, the candy corns, presents…and lets out a disgusted sigh. He yells out “I’m the Champ now this is how I win!” before he grabs Josh in a front facelock and pulls him to his feet. PVP lets out a grunt as he lifts Josh into the air with a suplex, holding him there for a moment.
Joseph Kahn: Wow check out the poise of the Champ.
Johnny Deep: He’s the Champ for a reason!
Still holding…
Still holding…
On the way down, Josh grabs PVP’s head and spins him around, taking him to the mat with a Tornado DDT! PVP holds his head in pain as Josh kips up, to the excitement of the crowd! He looks over and sees Puppy halfway up the aisle and points, waiting for the crowd’s response!
Josh nods and makes a dash up the aisle. He gets in the face of the medical team and, while we can’t hear it all, we can make out “Not this way” and “This is her match. Let her finish it.” The medical team tries pushing her up the aisle anyway, but Josh gets in front to block them. “No, let her have her match!” The medical staff looks at each other and sighs before agreeing with Josh. Together the three of them get Puppy off the stretcher and Josh walks her back to the ring. He asks her if she is ok, and she lets out a somewhat dizzy “Yes” before getting back in the ring. Josh follows her. The two look at PVP, and then back at each other. Josh looks at PVP once more before Puppy slaps Josh on the chest and shouts “EAGLES…GET THE PRESENTS!”
Josh and Puppy jump out of the ring and each grab a present from opposite sides, and a mic, before getting back in the ring. Josh brings his mic up and reads the tag; "Puppy, this present is from the fans of ACE to THE Parker Van Peters!" The crowd cheers as Josh opens it up and pours legos all over the ring. Then Puppy brings her mic up and says "Josh, this presents is from Viktoria Vixen and the rest of the ACE Roster to THE Parker Van Peters!" The crowd once again cheers and she pours out the contents of her box, which is mostly Jolly Ranchers!
Johnny Deep: Come on Parker, now is NOT the time to get up…
PVP slowly gets to his feet, but Puppy drops the mic and spins around to nail him with the “Foxygen Kick” (Buzzsaw Kick)!
Joseph Kahn: The kick!
BUT PVP WEAVES OUT OF THE WAY!
Josh pulls PVP up to his feet, and plants him into the candy corns, jolly ranchers, and legos WITH THE “EAGLES WINGS” (Crucifix Driver)!
Joseph Kahn: That’s gotta be all!
Rather than pinning him, Josh instead rips the bow off of his present, and sticks it on PVP’s head. He motions at Puppy to “get ready”. Josh turns PVP over onto his chest, and lifts his head up and holds it (like a field goal prop). He calls Puppy over and her eyes light up. She takes a deep breath as all this excitement washes over her, and the crowd!
Joseph Kahn: This is it, the moment we’ve been waiting for is here!
Puppy winds up and yells out “FOXYGEN KICK!” Puppy lifts her foot up and swings into this!
Johnny Deep: HA! YES! Josh just pulled the rug out from under Flame Puppy!
Josh lets go of PVP’s head and gets up, helping Puppy up in the process…BEFORE HE DRIVES HER INTO THE JOLLY RANCHERS WITH THE “EAGLES WINGS” (Crucifix Driver)! The arena falls to a dead silence. More shock than anything.
Joseph Kahn: !!!
Johnny Deep: !!!
Joseph Kahn: WHAT!?
Johnny Deep: JOSH DID IT!
Joseph Kahn: Why, Eagles, why?
Johnny Deep: Because he knows what it takes to be a success in this business!
Josh stands over the two while still in utter silence, before he grabs PVP’s arm and pulls him over Flame Puppy!
“The Jazz” looks at Josh, shocked and asking him what’s going on, to which Josh just says “Count it.”
“The Jazz” drops down to count the fall.
1!
2!
3!
Jason Alfonso: Ladies and gentlemen, your winner of the Handicap Hard Candy and Lego Deathmatch…he is the ACE Pacific-Southwest Champion! THE! PARKER! VAN! PETERS!
”Princes of the Universe” begins to play while Josh stands in the ring, completely proud of what he’s just done. “The Jazz” raises PVP’s hand for a moment before letting it drop. He retrieves their titles and sets them across the appropriate holder’s chest.
Joseph Kahn: I-don’t. I-just. What have we witnessed?
Johnny Deep: We’ve witnessed Josh Eagles finally grabbing his balls and making sure people recognize that he isn’t some happy-go-lucky kiss-ass anymore. Josh Eagles is the real deal.
Josh leaves the ring and quickly jumps the barricade, dodging incoming half-empty drinks and half eaten nachos being hurled towards him from the crowd! Meanwhile, PVP slowly just starts to get up. He grabs his Championship and casts a quick glance back to Flame Puppy before shaking his head. A chuckle escapes his lips before he steps through the ropes and onto the floor.
Joseph Kahn: What a way for a Champion to win…is that REALLY the kind of guy we want representing ACE?
Johnny Deep: What, a winner? Yes, I want the man representing our company to be a winner. And that’s exactly what THE Parker Van Peters did here tonight!
Joseph Kahn: But the way he did it…
Johnny Deep: The way? The deck was stacked against him from the start! He had to take on Flame Puppy’s specialty match, with the numbers NOT in his favor, with a whole company against him…yet this is the strength of our Champion! He has the strength to overcome even the greatest odds!
Halfway up the aisle PVP looks dead ahead, and just stops. He shakes his head once, but the same person is still there – Viktoria Vixen! As Vixen walks towards him, it becomes clear the object she is carrying is a cannon of some sort! PVP puts his hands up to back her off, but she ignores him and continues on down the aisle.
Joseph Kahn: Get him, Viktoria!
Johnny Deep: Oh yeah, cheer on the disgruntled former Champ with a cannon!
Viktoria catches up to him and aims the cannon right at PVP’s face! PVP’s knees begin shaking in fear while this crowd is coming alive for her!
She pulls the trigger finally and some blue colored foreign object comes flying out of the cannon, colliding with PVP’s eye and knocking him on his ass! As PVP falls, the object unravels itself, draped over PVP’s face.
Joseph Kahn: Haha! Would you look at that?
Johnny Deep: She SHOT HIM in the face!
Joseph Kahn: …with a #KickHimInTheFace t-shirt. Context, man. Anyway, for Johnny Deep, I’m Joseph Kahn, have a happy and safe holiday everyone!
The cameras jump backstage to be greeted by Nikki Mynx stood in front of a Whirlwind Wrestling banner. With a big grin she raised her microphone to her lips and started;
Nikki Mynx: Ladies and gentlemen at this time please welcome my guest. He is quote “The Consortium’s Chosen” unquote Antonio Scarlotti...The Aristocrat.
The camera shifts to the left to show Antonio walking into frame. The first feature you’d notice is his luscious blonde hair, thick and long as ever, but followed soon after by his well-pressed, very finely crafted Italian three-piece double-breasted suit. Nikki extended her hand to Whirlwind’s newest signing...Antonio quickly brushed her away, taking the mic and ordering the camera to zoom in on only himself.
A smattering of boos could be heard in the backdrop…
Antonio Scarlotti: Finally. Finally, you have a reason to watch this show, for you have The Italian Savior, your hero, your wife’s wet dream and the future of Whirlwind Wrestling…the prettiest man in all of wrestling the world over…
I am The Aristocrat. The answer to the question “who is the best at all things in life”, and the true five star machine…Antonio Scarlotti.
Thatcher: Oh brother…if I have to listen to this guy fawn all over himself any longer, we’ll need to look for a new announcer because I’ll have a bullet in my head!
Antonio Scarlotti: When Whirlwind Wrestling relaunched in the autumn of twenty-nineteen, the company reached out in earnest faith to all former so-called professionals. The Consortium was a new entity, he had taken over where the former management had left off and he was here to revitalize what once was a profitable company. Some names took heed to the call – mostly common plebs whom are desperate for another dollar they can throw away on booze and cheap McDonald’s food like the foolish American consumer they all are. But one man, the company wanted him to return, as the alleged best wrestler in the company. Several e-mails were sent, several phone calls were made, several contracts were offered. All of which blown off without even two words from the so-called great.
Thatcher: There’s only two men this guy could be talking about, so…
Antonio Scarlotti: But not to fear. The business must go on, and so you, you know whom you are...have been replaced. Replaced, by a superior species…me. That’s right, all of what I have could have been yours, but you had to be like the rest of the stupid capitalist American scum, just another of the bottom feeder afraid of losing the little status you had that you couldn’t dare show your face again. But you are grotesque anyway…so it’s not like I could blame your inability to answer the phone, you barely could even look at such a disgusting face in the mirror anyway…
Thatcher: Is this guy just gonna ramble on and on about – whoa my God, over there!
Just then the camera shifts to the left, revealing the one and the only…
…
…
…
Leon Tyrell!!
Without a word spoken, Leon stares at the Italian Aristocrat, his appearance enough to send Antonio speechless. The camera shifts from Leon to Antonio, several times, every few seconds, until Leon walks away. The camera fading to ringside as he does.
Thatcher: I don’t believe it. All these months later, and we finally, for the first time since summer twenty-eighteen, see that Leon Tyrell has returned to Whirlwind Wrestling?!
Backstage…
There is loud music being played…
Very loud music….
Lots of bass…..
Strobe lights….
Half naked chicks…
And one very drunk, brand new, International Whirlwind Wrestling champion living it up….
Who could also be naked…….
All the Bad Ass James Kelloggs is wearing is his newly won championship belt!
Thankfully the faceplate of the belt is quite big on him!
With a bottle of bubbly in his hand, a hottie in the other, he spots the camera, sporting the biggest smile. His flushed cheeks, bloodshot eyes and slurred speech. Champion James holds up his bottle of bubbly and holds the hottie a little tighter.
“Suck my dick you bitches!” James exclaims and then pours the bottle over himself “I told you I would fucking win this motherfucker right here!” as James tugs on the belt. “Now you all can kiss my ass!” The champ proclaims and then kisses the hottie on his arm.
Fade out.
Thatcher: Finally, our main event, and what a barn burner this is gonna be! The Mastodon has been chasing Veronica Taylor for months, as far back as Southern Florida Wrestling and every time they’ve met The Mastodon has absolutely left his mark on her...but somehow, she’s always left with the title. Now with no rules, with no Saturn Boys, it’s just Veronica and her BFF Bianca Davis to withstand this man beast...and I gotta be honest, I don’t think she has what it takes, and I don’t want to see her somehow escape. That title deserves a holder whom will defend it vigilantly, and with honor…
Cruz Bleckley: Ladies and gentlemen the following contest is a Count Out Only Match, for the Gulf Coast Championship, and is your main event of the evening! Introducing first, the challenger, he is the rampaging man beast, THHHHEEEE MAAASSSTTOOODDDOONNNN!!
“MAS-TO-DON!”
“MAS-TO-DON!”
“MAS-TO-DON!”
The Mastodon stomps around the ring, pumping up his arms in unison to the chants of Tijuana for this man to finally take his rightful place as Gulf Coast Champion.
Cruz Bleckley: And his opponent…
“BOOOOOOO!”
Cruz Bleckley: Being accompanied by Bianca Davis, she is the reigning, defending Gulf Coast Champion and the self-proclaimed Queen of Mean...VEEERROOONNNIIICCCAAA!! TTAAAYYYLLLOOORRRR!!!
Ding. Ding.
Mastodon ferociously lunges across the ring at Veronica, whom instinctively tries to back up into the ropes! But Mastodon gets right up on her, with punches to her torso and slaps to the side of her head! She screams at senior official The Jazz for help, but he shrugs his shoulders – can’t disqualify someone in a Countout Only Match!
Mastodon finally backs up and lets her out, only to come right back and send her FLYING over the top rope with a thunderous lariat! Vero’s body makes a loud and unceremonious thud – to the approval of these Tijuana natives, naturally – as her body hits the floor. Of course as she does…
1!
2!
Bianca runs around to check on her BFF as Mastodon celebrates and poses in the ring!
Thatcher: Look at the strength of Mastodon! How on Earth did Veronica believe she had a fighting chance here?!
Vero is slow to sit up while Bianca whispers in her ear. It’s clear she had no intentions of getting back in the ring any time soon…
Mastodon slaps his head a couple times as he yells “GET UP!” And this crowd is absolutely eating him up…
3!
4!
Finally, Vero goes around one side and Bianca around the other…
Thatcher: We’ve seen this before…
Mastodon begs them both to come on in, he’ll destroy them. Bianca jumps up on her side, and starts to enter when Mastodon charges across and she jumps down, quickly grabbing his head to guillotine him across the ropes! This prompts Vero to quickly slide in and chop block his knee from behind him. For the first time in this match – or even rivalry – Vero has taken Mastodon off his feet! Vero then starts stomping on Mastodon while Bianca reaches under the ring, pulling out...a bag clearly from somewhere located on Rodeo Drive. It was stripped with white and light pink on it, she slides it into the ring with Vero. Vero reaches in and pulls out...a stiletto heel!
Thatcher: Whoa! That’s pretty sharp, c’mon Veronica even you can’t be this desper –
Before he could finish the sentence, Vero slams the stiletto heel into Mastodon’s chest! The shoe just kinda sits there in his meaty physique while she stands over him, both her arms outstretched and the most bitchy look plastered across her face…
“BOOOOOOO!”
Vero blows a kiss to her “adoring” public then directs Bianca to join her. Collectively, the duo known worldwide as “The Pretty Committee”, were standing tall over a man whom could easily turn them into mush. Vero then turns and puts one foot over Mastodon’s chest while Bianca drops down to mock count the pin.
“1…”
“2…”
Mastodon powers out!
Thatcher: How did he do that?!
With one feral grunt, he rips the stiletto heel from his chest and throws it at Vero, whom narrowly ducks her own shoe! Then he turns to Bianca and as she slowly starts to back away, he pounces on top of her; a punch, two, three, four, five – before Vero jumps on his back to disrupt him – but instead he springs back up to his feet and marches around, until dumping her off him with a back body drop, ONTO Bianca!! He snarls, then grabs the two girls and throws them over the top rope and to the floor below! The two make a loud thud while The Jazz begins his count;
1!
2!
3!
4!
5!
Vero starts a slow, dizzying attempt at standing up, together with Bianca. It didn’t go very well, and the two of them stumble toward the guard rail, where they barely can stand as long as they hold onto it.
6!
7!
“MAS-TO-DON!”
“MAS-TO-DON!”
The chant was maddening, if you were The Pretty Committee, anyway. How dare Tijuana cheer for this buffoon instead of the sweetest, prettiest women in wrestling, anyway? Basics don’t know anything! Or so they must’ve thought.
8!
Finally, Bianca pushes Vero into the ring skirt, which she uses to barely slide under the rope and break the count…
Thatcher: Mastodon is going to have to figure out another way…he’s never gonna get an end to this as long as the other woman is out there.
With the count broken, Mastodon rolls his eyes and decides to join the party outside the ring. There would be no running then, and as long as both of them were outside, Jazz wouldn’t count because these people paid good money for a main event and he wasn’t about to rob them of that. We all want to see who will walk out as Gulf Coast Champion!
Once outside, Mastodon rushed to spear Bianca back into the steel guard rail! You could almost hear her spine crack through the arena, and then, there was only one. It was in that moment, with Bianca down, The Saturn Boys not at the arena, Veronica found herself all alone with The Mastodon for the first time ever. And the look on her face told the story that we all knew she was thinking…
“It was at that moment, she knew, she bleeped up…”
Thatcher: Finally! Time to pay the piper, Veronica!
She started to run – but Mastodon was quicker as he grabbed her hair! Vero elbowed him in the face, the impact seeming to not phase him at least at present. He scooped her up on his shoulder…and slammed her down with a scoop powerslam, right on the floor! It was like the entirety of Tijuana approved, and he could do no wrong…
“MASTOBOMB!”
“MASTOBOMB!”
“MASTOBOMB!”
They were all calling for it. This was it. The Mastodon’s “Mastobomb” (Deep Six) was all that stood between him and the Gulf Coast Championship…
Thatcher: C’mon, Mastodon, if you kill Veronica now, The Whirlwind will be free of her pettiness and jealousy…
He knew. And it was in that moment that he picked up Veronica’s lifeless body, he pulled her into powerbomb position – and then the lights went out!
Piercing the darkness was only an audible voice. That voice spoke out, over a loudspeaker…
And when the lights came back on, there stood one man behind The Mastodon dressed in full SWAT gear. The man jammed a riot baton into Mastodon’s back, electrical current came shooting out and sending spasms into his spine!
Thatcher: What the hell…?
Mastodon was sent to the floor, riving in pain as his body convulsed. The man in SWAT gear went first to Bianca and helped her up. Then he went to Veronica and helped her up.
Thatcher: Waitaminute…
Finally, the man outstretched his arms wide and made a loud, guttural noise, that sounded a lot like “OOOOOHHHHH!! AAAAAHHHHH!!” And then, finally, the SWAT mask came off…
Thatcher: OHMYGOD YOU’VE GOTTA BE KIDDING ME! NO. NO. NO!!
Jacob Hotstuff himself. The self-proclaimed Michael Bay of Pro Wrestling, the man audacious enough to refer to himself as “Hollywood Jesus”. Together again with Veronica Taylor and Bianca Davis, the three of them having reformed – for the first time since twenty-eighteen – The Upper Class.
Thatcher quickly gets up to get out of dodge as the trio makes their way to the desk. Just like that in everyone’s shock, Vero and Bianca got Mastodon up on Jacob’s shoulders, and together the three of them brought Mastodon down – right there on top of the announce table! Just like old time’s sake. The three stood there over The Mastodon, their fists extended in celebration of their rich and overly privileged lifestyle as though it made them a band of siblings…
Thatcher: You could count to a thousand and Mastodon wasn’t going to get up…but, but I, I can’t even believe this! The Upper Class is a relic of season one, there was no reason, no need to bring this socioeconomic oppression back on TV! Veronica Taylor she, her back was against the wall and she knew she couldn’t defeat The Mastodon alone, and she did the one thing…
The trio stepped back into the ring and, as predicted, The Mastodon wasn’t even moving as The Jazz begrudgingly had to count him out.
1!
2!
3!
4!
5!
6!
7!
8!
9!
…
…
…
…
…
10!
Cruz Bleckley: Ladies and gentlemen, your winner as a result of a count-out, AND STILL the Gulf Coast Champion…the self-proclaimed Queen of Mean...VEEERROOONNNIIICCCAAA!! TTAAAYYYLLLOOORRRR!!!
Bianca and Jacob work together to fasten the Gulf Coast Championship around Veronica’s waist while Veronica outstretches both of her arms triumphantly. Her bitchy smirk remained, but you could see the pain in her face. Veronica may have won the battle here tonight, but the Scars of War were real. This would not be a fight she forgot, nor the Whirlwind faithful...and especially not The Mastodon.
Thatcher: Folks, I don’t know what to say, aside from just, “wow”. What a way to end twenty-nineteen. What a way to start twenty-twenty. This has been Seasons Past, and for Whirlwind Wrestling, I’m Derrick Thatcher. Good night everyone, and, we’ll see you all in the new year!
Eric Havoc, clad in an opened suit with his blazer exposed, walked around the ring as he planned to choose his words carefully, “Ladies,” He began, “And Gentlemen, my name is Eric Havoc, and I’ve been wanting to say A LOT of things for the past couple of weeks since I left the self-proclaimed, ‘Best Wrestling Company in The World’, you see, I’ve been given this live microphone, and I intend to say a lot of things before I explain why I’m here. You see, I went worked in this massive organization for nearly a year.”
Eric tapped the pop filter of the mic before continuing, digging his free hand into his pocket, “First day out, I’m dealing with a pack of cutthroat politicians instead of actual professional wrestlers, I had to deal with a champion using his influence to keep his title, while the goddamn chairman of the company was going ahead and abusing his power. I had to spend months of hell dealing with all the internal politics until I finally decided to leave, people were saying I was going into the business for myself, some respected my hustle in how much I worked my ass off, but there was one,” Eric held up a finger, “One person that cut this scathing promo on me in front of the whole locker room. Calling me a disappointment, said any apologies I was making in my attempt to mend some fences being a ‘Hollow Gesture’” He turned to the camera and smirked, “Hey, did that finally please you, baby?”
“I work my last match, but then, afterwards, I was told to film some commercial for something before I headed out the door, so I go ahead, I film, go home, I saw the finished product…And it was one blatant last ‘(bleep) you’ making me some influencer on that site that has had psychos publish their manifestos, and after that, I decided I was never heading back to that place, and instead decided to prove them wrong, there IS a life outside that place, and that’s why I’m here, I’m here to ‘Pop The Territory’ and raise this company, and change the landscape of Professional Wrestling!”
Thatcher: Another guy that thinks he can single handedly ‘change the business’…
Eric walked around the ring, “I’m here to go after the International Whirlwind Champion, and take this company to new heights, I’ll bring in the media and mainstream attention to this place and begin the catalyst of changing this industry and tearing down the status quo. As such, I’ve signed a deal with Whirlwind Wrestling to compete in the company, and I intend to bring it against this roster!”
Eric Havoc stopped in the center, smirking to himself, “Whirlwind Wrestling…You have a New Franchise Player now…” Eric dropped his microphone to the floor and began heading to the back.
A loud, booming voice played over the speakers.
LET’S. GET. DANGEROUS.
Metallica’s “Seek and Destroy” hit and to a massive pop, we saw the arrival of the underground mixed martial arts legend, MAX Danger, shirtless and in a pair of track pants, while being armed with a mic.
MAX Danger: Man, you talk too much. You took up all this time to say a whole lotta nuthin’…do you ever shut up?
Havoc’s eyes rolled at the comment.
Thatcher: MAX Danger, folks, doing his part to make sure Maffew Gregg has material…
MAX Danger: Look, kid, I ain’t give a damn bout where you came from, or how they embarrassed you. You in the big leagues now. This is Whirlwind Wrestling, and I, these people, we just got one question.
Can you fight?
*POP!*
Without a wasted moment, MAX threw down the mic and ran down the aisle, with Havoc jumping out of the ring to meet him there. Havoc threw the first shot, straight to the gut, while MAX reeled, and threw a straight jab to Havoc’s chin! Havoc came back with a wide arc yakuza kick that sent MAX into the barricade, then Havoc followed through – but MAX moved – and Havoc found himself going shoulder first into that barricade! MAX then pulled Havoc off the barricade and into a half nelson. Just as MAX was about to throw him back, a swarm of event security rushed out to break up the fight. To the dismay of this Tijuana crowd, of course!
“LET THEM FIGHT!”
“LET THEM FIGHT!”
“LET THEM FIGHT!”
Thatcher: MAX Danger has a scheduled number one contender’s fight later tonight, I’m unsure why he’d put that in jeopardy here. But, someone had to introduce Eric Havoc to the way we do things here, and I can’t think of a better person for the job than MAX Danger. What a way to kick off the show though. Welcome to Seasons Past, folks!
“Ladies and gentlemen, I'm joined here at this time by the mysterious masked man, The Masked Strategist Pendragon and his student, the man perhaps with the swiftest and hardest hitting knee in all of Mexico, Sean Tuoni!”
Nikki Mynx is standing in the back as the camera pans over to Pendragon, tonight sporting a holiday (and coincidentally, Mexico) inspired color scheme of Green, White, and Red, his mask, usually black being white with green on the dragon's 'face' and red trim and accents. Next to him was Sean Tuoni wearing a red shirt with a yellow lightning bolt logo front and center, similar to the logo of superhero The Flash while keeping in the spirit with a Santa themed beanie on his head. The fans in Tijuana cheer as the duo appear on screen as Sean is all smiles while Pendragon stands with his arms crossed in his green and red ring robe.
“Tonight, Pendragon, you have a match with your friend and rival MAX Danger to determine the number one contender for the International Whirlwind Championship, one of the two of you facing the winner of tonight's match between B. Epic, James Kelloggs and Stephen Callaway, the last man being one that you had something of an alliance with in the past yourself. And you Sean, you're the talk of the town after getting your first taste of ring action, albeit in an unofficial capacity at All Hallow's Eve when you gave Monte the Python a taste of his own medicine after he tried to goad and intimidate you from ringside. Gentlemen, the floor is yours.”
Sean looks at Pendragon, the man in the mask gestures for his pupil to go first with and open palm giving him the invitation to take center stage. Sean nods and smiles as he makes sure he's standing front and center. Pendragon doesn't mind taking a back seat temporarily as he can still be seen in the shot behind and to the right; curious to see how the young man handles himself.
“Thanks, Nikki. You know, it's a pleasure and a privilege to be here; I know that. I still can't believe this is real all these months later, even after giving Monte exactly what he had coming to him after he got in my face, and hearing the best fans in the world...” The crowd pops big for the cheap pop. “Cheer Pendragon on, cheering MAX, and getting behind me as well when I delivered that lightning knee to his breadstick-crumb-covered mug! It means a lot to me; it means the world! It means the world to me to just feel the love and support of the Whirlwind Family out there.”
Sean Tuoni pauses for a moment as his grin fades as his tone turns serious. The eager, headstrong, and fun loving rookie knew when to turn up the volume and when to turn it down to get down to brass tacks; down to business.“You know, I'm a kid from Chicago; Chiraq. I grew up around violence, drive-bys, poverty. My parents had to work two jobs each just to provide for my brothers and sisters and myself, you know? Blue-collar, working class people. Nobody chooses to just barely get by, nobody chooses to be surrounded by drugs and violence and people killing each other. You get in that kind of environment, man, there's so many ways things can go wrong. Some people get into drugs, some get into gangs and committing crimes, just feeding that school to prison pipeline. But my Mom and Dad, who I know are watching at home right now, they always told me to work hard and dream big. 'Find your way out and don't look back!'” Sean pauses, the emotions running through his head would be too much for many people not used to standing in front of the camera but he managed to keep it together and retain his composure. Still, his words had a certain rawness to it, one that couldn't be coached, one that could only come from speaking from the heart. “For some people that was football, others it was basketball, music. For me? My love has always been this right here; four turnbuckles and three ropes, fighting in a sport that a fan base without peer. Whether it's in an armory in front of 50 people of right here in one of the biggest wrestling cities in Mexico; you will find magic in the ring that brings people together and leaves lasting memories that families and friends will talk about and pass down through generations. Sure, I could be like Monte or RUIN, the Meat Sauce Mafia, be happy to show up for a check and do the minimum required. I could go out there and tell my parents, 'Hey, at least I tried' and go back home and work in a liquor store, make enough to afford a place by the skin of my teeth and trap future generations of the Tuoni family in the same cycle. I didn't get into wrestling to settle, I came in here to put my heart and soul on the line and put my best foot forward every single time I step out from behind the curtains! I want to lift others up, I want us to soar together! Lucha Libre is all about honor and tradition, The American Dream is all about rising above your circumstances to achieve a better life... I don't see why these two things have to be exclusive of one another.”
Sean Tuoni looks back to Pendragon, who has remained silent this entire time, watching and observing as the young upstart cracked a smile before turning his attention forward. “Find a cause worth fighting for and always carry it with you. Find your reason for existence and you'll never lose your way. You taught me that, Pendragon, you taught me that from the first time I stepped into the Academia and took a chance on myself. Just like you want that mask to become a symbol, to mean something, I want everything I do to carry that same purpose. I promise I won't let you or any of these people down. Lightning can strike anywhere and without warning and if the Meat Sauce Mafia want to keep it up? I'll show them that lightning can strike twice!”
Pendragon nods with approval at long last as Sean Tuoni finishes and cedes the floor to him. “Well said.” While he spoke very little directly to Sean's speech the tone in his voice carried the impression that he was impressed by the passion and conviction by which his pupil spoke. Sean seems to take note of this as well as the next little bit Pendragon was about to say. “The future will light the way and create a new tomorrow, one that I hope atones for the mistakes those in the present have committed to set a new tradition of making the future brighter for each generation that comes after. Words spoken from a great prospect and an even better man, I'm proud of you, Sean.” The crowd cheers as Pendragon takes a moment for the crowd to settle down as the echos could be heard even back here. “The present is always in flux though as the possibilities of the future continue to shift and shuffle until the crucial and deciding act and the aftermath emerges. One could say that we're all members on a stage, a play called life. With everyone having their part and influence in the grand theater the act of one can shift the entire landscape and cause a series of events to unfold that nobody could see coming. I knew that when I faced off against Stephen Callaway and Joe Jones that that could be my final opportunity for the Whirlwind Championship; that it was entirely possible that despite the wide open road in front of me that it could all unravel at a moment's notice.”
Pendragon pauses as his hand drifts to his chin in thought, perhaps in a moment of reflection. “While the Art Of War dictates that whether in a position of advantage or disadvantage the opposite should always be present in your mind but that can apply to so much more than that, don't you think? Companies open and close, the winds may change at nary a moment's notice and on a whim. The seasons change do they not? What may be a bountiful harvest shall sooner or later turn into a bitter and cold winter. Whirlwind ceased operations for some time and left a lot of good people out of work. It appeared my chance at capturing the biggest prize had come and gone and that a new chapter in my life was due; then a year later I got a call. Whirlwind had emerged from the coldest of winters and reemerged, born again in a joyous spring. Doors that were closed opened once more, I guess one could call it a reversal of fortune. What once started as a contest between two friends was then interrupted by the cockroaches of society known as the Meat Sauce Mafia which led itself to a series of skirmishes of two friends united against a common foe and when that conflict reached its resolution they would be back right where they started; at least at first glance. The two friends, one in a mask and the other a mixed martial arts legend would meet once more but this time it was for oh so much more with a ticket to a championship match on the line.”
Pendragon clasped his hands together before spreading them out wide. “Mighty are the wings of the butterfly that put these events into motion!” Pendragon chuckled and it almost sounded eerie with how seldom he did so. “I have nothing but the utmost respect for you MAX; I have nothing bad to say about you. You're a class act in and outside of the ring and you're someone I'm proud to call a friend but make no mistake; when that bell rings I'm setting that friendship aside. We're both fighting for the same thing and that's for an opportunity at the International Whirlwind Championship; it's why we're all here. There are no consolation prizes, there are no moral victories to be sought; this is do or die. There's no guarantee that either one of us will ever get another opportunity at the International Whirlwind Championship, there's a good chance that this may be the last shot either of us will ever have at the gold. I refuse to take this for granted and I expect to fight a war of attrition here tonight, two of the best leaving it all in the middle of that ring. I can see that hunger in your eyes MAX, that despite your sterling record you still refuse to settle for anything less than perfection; how you constantly demand the best out of yourself. I can feel how badly you need this opportunity; it's like an electrical current surging through the air!”
Pendragon steps forward as the usually calm masked strategist was.. excited? He was! Never once raising his voice to a scream or shout he accentuates with subtle raises in the pitch of his voice with the force of a quiet storm; cool but never betraying its ferocity. “You're going to make me work for every inch gained and I would expect nothing less! You're a tough nut to crack, a man with no obvious glaring weaknesses with the intensity and drive to match. But I shall match you move for move, maneuver for maneuver, and tactic for tactic until the dust is settled and the battle is won. Tonight I'm going to show you that for how badly you want this I want it just a little bit more than you. It's going to come down to the wire, decided on the thinnest of margins and the smallest of errors. But just when you think your form is perfect I shall find the tiniest opening and find a way to break the unbreakable! MAX; tonight we're going to steal the show!”
With a flourish Pendragon walks off camera with Sean Tuoni following behind him, leaving Nikki Mynx stunned.
Outside of a questionable Gentelmen’s club somewhere in Mexico….
The building is painted pink, with the windows blacked out, an old red neon light that flickers in one of the windows next to the door to this fine establishment, reads LIVE GIRLS! And another that read NUDE. Outside the parking lot is full of lowrider Monte Carlos, Pimped out Escalades, and blinged out Bentleys on 24’s.
The front door to this “adult themed entertainment” is a dutch door. The bottom part of a dutch door opens and the camera ducks under the top part of the door and enters this play house where only god knows what will happen at night in and night out.
Making our way past the pay window and down a flight of stairs and into the “playpen”, a huge room that is mostly lite up with black lights, featuring a full bar, a huge stage with a pole in the middle of the stage. A mirror backdrop and marble tiles making up the deck of the stage giving it the appearance of being high class, when in reality, it’s just easier to clean and maintain.
The club is empty despite all of the vehicles outside. But the stage is full.
Full of half naked ladies.
One lovely lady is on all four, with a girl on each side of her, on one knee and another chick is stadling the chick on all fours, standing over her ass, thus making a chair of women, and sitting on the shoulders of the girl on all fours, with his little legs dangling down on each side of her head, leaning back and resting his head on the stomach of the chick standing in the back, and a hand on the upper inner thigh of each girl on the left and right is none other than the Bad Ass James Kelloggs.
“Sup motherfuckers! About fucking time you found me! If you didn’t get here in another 5 minutes, you would have caught me doing what I do best! And that is fucking the shit out of these bitches! Call me mister All Night Long! Call me Well Hung Low! Call me Mister Big Balls, this is how I fucking get ready for the biggest match in Whirlwind Wrestling History!”
“That’s right you stupid mother fuckers, I said the biggest match in the history of this fucking company. Forget that shit from a couple of weeks ago, that snoozefest between this chump B Epic and my best buddy Joe, tonight! Tonight, the biggest name in all of pro wrestling, mister fucking Main Event himself! Your girlfriends dirty little secret, you mom’s favorite fuck toy and the guy who shows your sister what’s what! The Bad Ass One will have all eyes on this event here tonight, and when it is all said and done, when little B Epic and his boy friend Steve Callaway tap the fuck out because they don’t have the stamina to keep up with the Bad Ass One, as I run fucking circles around them, beating their ass to a pulp while I don’t even break a sweat, because there isn’t a mother fucker in this company who can match my cardio. When I take my rightful place at the end of the fucking table, when I slap my big fucking dick down for all to marvel at, as I hoist up what should have been mine a long fucking time, all of you mother fuckers and line up one by one, kiss my ass, bask in my greatness, and suck my big veiney cock! You see, in a couple of hours from now, The outcome of the biggest match in Whirlwind Wrestling history will only have one outcome! The only outcome that makes sense, the only outcome that, of course is going to happen! The outcome of me, The Bad Ass James Kelloggs, beating two fools, displacing two mental rejects, and finally, giving this joke of a company a proper champion, a proper name that draws people in, and a champion that makes dollars and cents. For I will be your new International Champion! The time has come for the king to claim the crown.”
James leans forward in his “chair”.
“I will show no mercy in 2020. I will fuck all of the bitches, and beat all of the chumps. My reign of terror begins tonight! Now!”
James motions to wave off the camera as he glances at the chick to his left with lust in his eyes.
“I’ve got to begin my pre match stretching.”
Fade out.
International Whirlwind Championship
PRIDE Fighting Rules
B. Epic© vs James Kelloggs vs Stephen Callaway
PRIDE Fighting Rules
B. Epic© vs James Kelloggs vs Stephen Callaway
Thatcher: Welcome folks, it’s not every night we start the show off with the richest prize in our business on the line, but happy holidays to each and every one of you because that’s exactly what we have for you tonight! This three-pronged war has been raging for months and now finally, at the last show of twenty-nineteen, we’re going to get our answer to whom is the most fit to carry this Championship – and with it, the company – on their back!
Cruz Bleckley: The following contest is a PRIDE Fighting Rules Match, and it is for the International Whirlwind Championship! Introducing first, to my left, he is the former International Whirlwind Champion, Stephen Callaway!
“LET’S GO STEPHIE!”
clap clap clapclapclap
Cruz Bleckley: And his first opponent, he is the smallest big time bad ass of professional wrestling. James Kelloggs!
“BOOOOOOO!”
Kelloggs meanwhile grabs at his crotch and thrusts it outward at Tijuana for their disapproval of him.
Cruz Bleckley: And lastly, is is the reigning, defending, undisputed International Whirlwind Champion, Beeeeeeeee!! EPPPPIIICCCC!!!
A roar of approval from Tijuana for the – newly crowned, of course – longest reigning International Whirlwind Champion in this company’s history clocking just over a hundred days!
Thatcher: Listen to this crowd. They sure do love their fighting champion.
Just then, a real blast from the past hits the arena as Paula Abdul’s “Straight Up” hits, welcoming former colour commentator and current journalist Nikki Mynx to the stage. Moving with the upbeat pace of the crowd, she takes her seat once more, alongside longtime partner – and friend – Derrick Thatcher.
Mynx: Happy Holidays Derrick, did you miss me?
Thatcher: Always. Wouldn’t want to call one of these matches without the eyes and ears of the Whirlwind.
Mynx: Not to mention score, right? We do make a great judging committee. Now let’s get to the action.
Ding. Ding.
Within moments, Callaway vaults across the ring, ringing James’ face with a magnitude 9.0 claymore kick!! James falls to the mat like a trash bag as Callaway goes for the quick cover! The Jazz drops down to make the count;
1!
2!
B. Epic breaks it up!
Thatcher: Stephen Callaway isn’t being paid by the hour here tonight!
Mynx: Let’s call not gloss over the lack of lost love between he and James though.
Callaway, having almost expected his former Epic Angle partner to break it up, isn’t surprised to not be walking out right now. He is surprised, however, at the swiftness of B. Epic’s foot colliding with his own chin now. B presses the advantage as he slides in with a chinlock, but Callaway quickly breaks it. The two trade arm drags and quick side headlock takedowns, ultimately ending in a stalemate in front of the other, while James quietly rolls to the outside of the ring apron. The flawless sequence receives critical acclaim from the Tijuana natives – a fact that James Kelloggs certainly won’t be taking lightly.
Mynx: Nice clean wrestling by Epic Angle here.
Thatcher: Did you expect anything else?
The two lock up once more with Callaway taking B into a rear waistlock, hurling him over his head with a belly to back suplex, but B lands on his feet! B hits the ropes while Callaway turns and drops down, prompting B to jump over him en route to the other side. Once there Callaway leap frogs, but he’s a bit early as B scouts him and puts the brakes on himself, drops down to a knee, and throat thrusts Callaway for his troubles (like it were straight out of a Goldust match…). The strike startles Callaway, which allows for B to bring his knee up into a partially gassed Callaway’s face, finally putting the former champ on the mat. B drops down into a cover, hooking the near leg as he does;
1!
2!
Callaway kicks out!
Before either of them could get up, James quickly ascended the ringpost like he were waiting all along to call his shot, then he jumped off with the “Bad Ass Bomb” (Coup de Grace) onto the both of them!
Thatcher: Unbelievable, the little guy did it!
James sits on top of the two as The Jazz starts to count the fall.
1!
BUUUUZZZ!!
Cruz Bleckley: Ladies and gentlemen, that sound means it’s the end of round one!
Cruz moves over to the announce table to confer with Derrick and Nikki. Callaway and B move back to separate corners, while James sits up, his facial expression looking like he were just robbed!
Cruz Bleckley: Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of the first fall by decision – B. Epic!
The Jazz calls for the bell and round two is underway.
James stands up as he’s caught in the middle of the two once-partners. B and Callaway nod to the other while James grins and darts toward Callaway, taking him down with a headbutt to the shin! He turns back to B, sliding between B’s legs, then sending him face first with a chop block to his hamstring! Once down, James takes the reigning Champion’s leg in his hands and pulls back on a single leg crab. B whimpers a bit but refuses to give in while James shouts obscenities back at the champ. “You stupid motherbleep just give up!” But it was no good, B wasn’t about to relinquish his Title this soon, or to a man that needed a booster seat whenever he went to Burger King! James eventually lets the hold go, however, finally moving around to the face and applying the crossface – that is until Callaway got back up and dropped an elbow on the hold. James moves however, and Callaway takes out just B, as the vision around B goes black!
Mynx: Well that ought to even things out for Kelloggs…
Thatcher: Does it? Callaway is the guy that punt kicked James into next week, I don’t think this is even at all…
“Com’ere and tell me what my boot smells like...”
“Suck my dick!’ replied James, in only the most antagonistic way possible. As if there were another way to say such a phrase, right?
Of course Callaway rushed at the pint-sized brawler, which was just what James wanted as he side stepped, then from behind, drop kicked Callaway’s knee to send him slamming across the middle rope! But it’s okay, luckily Callaway’s neck broke his fall…
James wasted no time in lighting up the former champion with stiff rights and lefts, absolutely peppering the back of Callaway. Bright red welts began forming around his kidneys as James firmly grabbed Callaway by his tights and pulled him back to the mat. With a lateral press he covered, then shouted at The Jazz to “get your ass over here”.
1!
2!
B. Epic breaks the count!
Thatcher: A great offense by James to take Callaway down to his size.
Mynx: But there’s a third man in this match, and James can’t forget about that.
James sits up, right into a standing yakuza kick from B which prompts B to pick up the diminutive badass onto his shoulders. B carries him to the corner and sits him up. An open palm strike to the chest prompts a loud obscenity from James, then B picks him up and slams him to the mat with a thunderous muscle buster!
BUUUUZZZ!!
Cruz Bleckley: Ladies and gentlemen, that sound means it’s the end of round two!
Cruz moves over to the announce table to confer with Derrick and Nikki.
At this stage, all three individuals are looking worse for wear. Callaway was slowly stirring with his back looking like a red spotted leopard, while the Champion was looking fatigued. James was curled into a ball after that muscle buster – maybe this title opportunity wasn’t a great idea…
Cruz Bleckley: Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of the second fall – James Kelloggs!
The mere mention of James’ name was enough to cause a mini revolt in Tijuana, but more importantly it woke B. Epic right up. The fact that someone else won a fall for his title, it’s time to put this match away, he knew deep down. The Jazz calls for the bell to start round three.
B stands up tall, and Callaway pulls himself to his feet. James slinks back into his corner but the two taller adversaries have alternative ideas. B drives his feet into James with a basement dropkick, an impact that lays him out against the bottom turnbuckle. Callaway then waits for B to move before barreling into a rolling boulder and splashing James against the turnbuckle with a brutal cannonball!
Thatcher: Oomph!
B gets back up and takes his place to continue the onslaught. He comes barreling at James – while Callaway comes from behind and takes B over with a crucifix pin! The Jazz finally catches it and makes the count;
1!
2 – B’s foot touches the top rope!
Cruz Bleckley: B. Epic has four rope breaks remaining!
Mynx: I’m not sure he had intended to give up a rope break there.
Thatcher: Probably not, but it happened, and Jazz called him on it. Hard call, but a good one by the veteran Jazz.
And there it was. Epic Angle stood in the ring, unlike the start, this time they weren’t a hundred percent. They knew they had been in a war, and they knew they weren’t done yet. Callaway fired the first shot with a stiff boxing jab to B’s face! The impact sent B reeling, but he’d come back with an uppercut to the gut, winding Callaway! B took Callaway into a front facelock, and dropped him – but not before Callaway kicked B’s leg out from under him. The end result...was the ugliest DDT you’ve ever seen. Callaway went face first to the mat while B happened to land face first in the rock hard abdomen of Callaway. Technically, that was a pinfall and as such, Jazz dropped down to count the fall;
1!
2!
Callaway rolls the shoulder off the mat!
Thatcher: Desperation kick out by Callaway there.
Mynx: I agree, he’s completely out of it, yet somehow is still fighting.
Thatcher: That’s what being the International Whirlwind Champion means to him. The Heart of a Champion…
With Epic Angle down, James slowly gets to his feet. Somehow he was the only one standing?? He shakes his head and knocks the cobwebs loose, then runs across the ring to climb the ropes closest to the two. They still haven’t moved. He looks down, takes a deep breath and crosses himself, before finally leaping into the unknown…
The “Bad Ass Bomb” (Coup de Grace)!!
Out of instinct B. Epic rolls away...and James crashes down on Callaway’s back with full impact! The entirety of Tijuana drops to silence as James rolls Callaway onto his back before draping an arm over the former champion…
Mynx: Oh my God.
1!
B. Epic sits up onto his elbows.
2!
B. Epic lunges at James in a haze.
…
…
…
…
…
3!
B. Epic collides with the pinfall!
Thatcher: …
Cruz Bleckley: Ladies and gentlemen, your winner as a result of a pinfall…
Mynx: Oh no.
Kid Rock’s “American Badass” plays…
Cruz Bleckley: ….AND NEW, International Whirlwind Champion; JAAAAAMMMEEEESSSSS!!! KEEEEELLLLOOOGGGGGSSSSSS!!!
Thatcher: He…he wasn’t fast enough.
Mynx: It was so sudden. The dream for B. Epic is over, and all in the blink of an eye.
Thatcher: He didn’t even lose the title himself…
Mynx: But he didn’t beat the then-champion either.
The Jazz takes the International Whirlwind Championship and drapes it across James’ chest. James was only just starting to realize what had just happened. What he had just done, amid all the doubters he had heard it from over the years…
“you’re a joke”
“you can’t do it”
“this is a big man’s game”
“you have to be this tall to ride this ride”
For the first time in James Kelloggs’ career, he had done it. He had become a World Champion…
And Tijuana could not have been any more disgusted. Plates of half eaten nachos and partially eaten burritos were pelting the ring, James, and the title itself. Empty beer cups littered the ringside area, and one twelve year old boy in particular tried jumping the rail, until event security had stopped him. Amid all of that however, the truth didn’t change.
James Kelloggs was International Whirlwind Champion. Full. Stop.
Mynx: Derrick, it’s always a pleasure calling these matches with you, but I have to attend to the news now. If you’ll excuse me.
Thatcher: Of course, Nikki. Go have your fun. I’ll enjoy having the best seat in the house. Stop by any time.
Mynx: I’ll take you up on that offer haha.
We jump cut to the concessions area where one such event security staff is shown, attempting to keep the concession lines at least some semblance of orderly.
"Ladies and gentlemen quiet down. my name is Kyle Ryan its my first day working security and I'll be checking your tickets to get you in the building. Please have your tickets out and bags open. How quickly this process goes is completely up to you."
Kyle let's a few fans through the door but puts his hand up stopping an adult male fan.
Kyle Ryan: Hold up a sec nomophobe (a term describing a fear of being without a mobile or tech device)…that cellphone is gonna have to stay with me.
The man chuckles at Kyle Ryan
"Umm what are you talking about? I can't take my cell phone inside?"
Kyle Ryan : Nope. It stays with me. Just go inside, have a seat and watch the show.
Male fan: Sir I need my phone. There's not even a sign anywhere that says no cell phones allowed inside the building.
Kyle Ryan pulls out a crumbled piece of paper.
Kyle Ryan: This might seem confusing to you techies but this right here is a piece of paper and on this paper is a set of very strict rules that you and these fans behind you are going to follow.
The crowd begins to grow more unruly now as they’re held up before getting back to their seats.
Kyle Ryan : Hey you all need to quiet down or none of you will get inside.
Male fan: Look man I'm really not trying to make a huge deal out of this or cause any trouble. Could you please let me inside? I already paid for my ticket.
Kyle Ryan grabs the man by his shirt and pushes him to the wall.
Kyle Ryan: Oh I'm sorry do you only understand what I'm saying through text messages and emojis? Let me make this clear for ya. You don't get inside the building until you give me your phone!
Kyle Ryan backs off the male fan and dusts off his wrinkled shirt.
Male fan trying to catch his breath quickly hands over his cell phone to Whirlwind’s newest security.
Kyle Ryan: Thank you very much and enjoy the show sir. Ladies and gentlemen please place all cell phones and gadgets inside this bin before entering the building thank you.
Number One Contender to the
International Whirlwind Championship
Pendragon vs MAX Danger
International Whirlwind Championship
Pendragon vs MAX Danger
Thatcher: Finally. Feels like it was forever ago when we were supposed to see these two OGs of last season fighting it out, but now the Meat Sauce Mafia is dealt with, thee other detractors are out of the way, now these two can find out whom is best – and become the next number one contender in the process!
Ding. Ding.
As the two approach, MAX extends a big right, catching Pendragon hard in the side of his face! MAX presses his advantage with a series of body strikes that end in a snap suplex, and an early one count on the masked strategist, whom quickly rolls outside of the ring to catch his breath.
Thatcher: MAX flexing his superior reach early on. Pendragon might be more technically sound, but if he can’t get in close, then all that technique will be for nothing. MAX, clearly, is very well studied on his opponent…
Pendragon nods in respect of his adversary before sliding back into the ring again. He stands, calmly now, and with his hands behind his back in wait – almost daring – MAX to make a move. MAX looks confused, but he shoots for the head anyway, which prompts Pendragon to shoot behind him and twist the arm up and into the center of MAX’ spine. From there MAX is mostly helpless, and Pendragon sweeps his leg in front of MAX’, taking him to the mat and following through with a seated rear mount, slapping the sides of MAX’ head! Pendragon then reaches his hands around MAX’ neck, pulling up on the beginnings of a camel clutch, but this MAX is able to break, and roll directly away from the strategist.
Thatcher: Pendragon with that Patient Defense. Was he a Monk in a past life…because I think he’s just the type of man I’d foresee breaking out into a flurry of blows.
MAX rolls back and sits up on a knee, staring up at Pendragon, who's masked eyes stare stoically back at the underground fighting legend. At least, it appeared as those it were a stoic stare. Can’t really see through a mask now…
Pendragon stood calmly in the center of the ring, almost goading MAX back into the center. “C’mon, get up.” Cautiously this time, MAX does so, and in a flash he charges like an uncontrollable minotaur at the masked man, whom calmly sidesteps, then trips MAX! MAX stumbles forward into the ropes, allowing Pendragon to slither behind him, grab him with a rear waistlock, and hurl him back with a belly to back suplex! MAX lands shoulders first and folds up like an accordion, which Pendragon uses to his advantage by pinning him with his weight added to the precarious position for more leverage. Farva drops down to count the fall;
1!
2!
MAX kicks out!
Thatcher: MAX better figure out the key here quick before his chances to fade away.
Pendragon again resumes his patient defense stance, while MAX gets back to his feet. He stares momentarily before going full Karate Kid. He lifts his left leg into a crane kick and dares Pendragon to do something. Pendragon cocks his head to the side – when MAX lunges forward, his foot nearly decapitating Pendragon! Pendragon hits the mat quick as MAX places one foot over his back and steps up, placing all the weight of his near three hundred pound frame onto Pendragon’s torso! Pendragon yelps out as MAX quickly transitions from foot press to quick elbow drop, again crushing the lower back. Then MAX positions himself with Pendragon in a side headlock on the mat, his arms growing tigher around the masked man as every second passes. Farva drops down to check on the hold.
“You okay? Do you want to quit?” Pendragon shook his head no, to which MAX pulled up on the hold to try again, so to speak.
Pendragon audibly was having a hard time of it, but his hand vigorously shook no in front of him. As he tried to fight out of the hold, MAX climbed to his knee and then his feet, still maintaining the side headlock as he did. MAX wrenched on it once more, until Pendragon pushed him off and into the ropes. MAX hit perfectly, and spun around, as Pendragon readied himself, MAX changed the game and put himself into a human torpedo, plowing through Pendragon’s body with a spear no one had seen!
Thatcher: Whoa! Ball game!
Pendragon took the sudden jarring impact, his shoulders first making contact to the mat as MAX emphatically dropped down into a cover and hooked both legs;
1!
2!
Pendragon rolls the shoulder off the mat!
Thatcher: I thought our masked strategist was doomed there, honestly.
MAX pops back to his feet, the match picking up to the pace he preferred. He reared his hand back and it was obvious what was coming next.
Thatcher: “Let’s Get Dangerous”. That KO punch will put anyone out!
With a discus spin, MAX lurches forward at Pendragon, but Pendragon low-bridges himself like he were cast in The Matrix, and MAX’ punch goes super wide! Pendragon then rotates his body three-hundred sixty degrees and comes up with a Pele Kick, dazing MAX where he stood! Quickly, Pendragon jumps to the second rope, then back off with a “turn of the tides” (Disaster Kick) that sends MAX face first to the mat! Pendragon was coming back into his stride here, and Tijuana was feeling it! With a quick flex, he shouts “COME ON!” at the underground fighter, then drags him to his feet with a tug of his ear. A quick kick to the gut doubles over MAX and allows Pendragon to grab the tights and lift (an impressive feat on it’s own!) MAX with a snap suplex! But wait, Pendragon hasn’t released the suplex form; he twists his hips and brings MAX back up with him, drilling him with a second suplex!
Thatcher: That’s two! Pendragon’s taking MAX on “Three Visits”, to Suplex City!
Again Pendragon twists the hips and shoots MAX up with him, but this time MAX catches him with an elbow to the face, and in the blink of an eye POW!
The crowd gasp in shock of the sudden strike!
“Let’s Get Dangerous” (Big Show’s Knock Out Punch) connects right to Pendragon’s jaw. As he falls in a heap on the mat!
Thatcher: Get it MAX, now is your chance!
MAX quickly drops down to cover with a hook of the near leg as Farva hops down to his knees to count;
1!
2!
3 – No, Pendragon manages to drape his leg over the bottom rope!
Thatcher: Big mistake by MAX, if only he would have hooked the far leg…
MAX sits up and questions Farva, no one has ever kicked out of his KO punch, surely this had to be – when Pendragon quickly grabs MAX around the neck and throat area and wraps MAX up in the “Gaes” (Tazmission)! MAX flails around, but his positioning from the pin put his back to the ropes, and with Pendragon between them. There was no relief in sight! Slowly, MAX’ flailing begins to stop, and Farva does his referee duties;
He raises MAX’ arm once – it falls haplessly to the mat!
He raises MAX’ arm twice – it falls haplessly to the mat!
Pendragon pulls back on his famed submission hold even more;
Farva raises MAX’ arm thrice – it falls haplessly to the mat! Farva waves off the match and calls for the bell! Kamelot’s “Karma” begins to play as Pendragon releases the submission.
Cruz Bleckley: Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of the match as a result of a submission, AND THE NNNEEEEWWWWW Number One Contender to the International Whirlwind Championship – PEEENNNDDRRRAAAGGGOOONNN!!!!
While Farva holds Pendragon’s arm up, he can’t help but look over at MAX. “Helluva match we just had,” he thought to himself. “Respect.”
Thatcher: Wow. That’s what I was hoping to see from these two all the way back at Genesis Wave. In a pure athletic contest that honestly could have seen either man win at any moment, at the end, it was Pendragon whom realized his destiny more. You can’t help but feel for MAX Danger, whom still hasn’t found that big “signature win” yet, but we see you MAX. You’re one of us. On this night however, the applause belongs to Pendragon.
Pendragon, while clutching his sides and holding his face leaves the ring to MAX in a show of respect. MAX then pushes himself up to his knee as he looks around Tijuana to see them all on their feet for him.
“MAX!”
“MAX!”
“MAX!”
He takes it all in. MAX Danger, a legend of underground mixed martial arts, boasting of a record of one-hundred twenty-nine wins and zero losses, yet still incredibly humble coming into professional wrestling. It’d be easy for someone to expect the world with an unprecedented record like that, but MAX had no issues starting at the bottom and earning his way up.
Thatcher: MAX Danger, folks.
Just then his wife Francine appears at the entrance way and starts walking her way down when suddenly, a man in dark denim jeans and a denim hooded jacket hops the barricade and slides into the ring behind MAX! A punch to the head takes him down, then the man mounts him and delivers punch after punch after punch to the big guy before standing tall over him, arms out-stretched...as swarms of event security rush to the ring. Before they can enter, the man pushes the hood back to reveal…
Thatcher: Eric Havoc! He’s not done with their fight before!
From his denim jacket, he pulls out something – a lead pipe – but before he could use it, security quickly gets into the ring and holds him back. Can’t fight thirty people at once, and so he allows the team to escort him out, back through the crowd and away from the scene. The others turn to see Francine rushing to the ring to check on her husband as we cut back to Thatcher.
Thatcher: You hate to see these kinds of moments end like this. Eric Havoc is a punk kid that’s trying to get his moment at the expense of a man that just wrestled a helluva match. But on the other hand, was he justified? After all no one told MAX Danger to go out there and interrupt his earlier diatribe at the start of the show…folks, stay tuned to dot com for more to this MAX and Eric story as it develops, meanwhile we’ve still got a Gulf Coast Championship main event, and we hear that young upstart Ace Sky will be here in just a few minutes once we get things cleaned up. Stick around.
We jump cut to the back with Veronica Taylor and Bianca Davis. The two were engaged in a series of bitchy, catty giggles with each throwing their heads in laughter. But the tone of the night was anything but funny for Veronica as she’d have to defend her title against the rampaging Mastodon, without the benefit of rules to skirt around to save her reign.
“…and then, like, that filthy basic beast actually thought he could touch me.” - Veronica trailed off with.
“Ugh, like, totally, people like him are so totally the worst.” - Bianca chimed in.
“I can’t believe I actually have to...” Veronica trailed off, rubbing the faceplate of her Gulf Coast Championship as she did, “But after this, after tonight when WE put that dumb beast down, that’s it, there’ll be no more title shots for Mastobasic!”
“And I’ve got just the plan...” Bianca said, as she pulled out the signature bottle of perfume, ‘Veronica’s Secret’. “One whiff of this, and he’ll be sooooo in lust that he’ll never be able to fight you again!”
Veronica put her hands up and shook her head no, “Eww, gag me with a spoon! Like I want that filthy dweeb following me around!”
“Do you have a better idea?” Bianca asked curiously.
Veronica didn’t respond. Instead, she turned and walked away. With Bianca following close behind.
Back in the ring, we see Ace Sky in the center of the ring with a microphone in his hand. The crowd was lukewarm to the kid that just had his debut contest at the One Night Only show. Just as he was about to speak, instead he was interrupted by the “Olive Garden Club Mix” which caused him to look to the entrance area to see Monte the Python entering out…
BAM!
A quick cut back to the ring shows RUIN stood over Ace Sky, the young kid lay motionless on the mat. RUIN sits on the kid’s back and applies a full, Iron Sheik style Camel Clutch backbreaker! Monte took his sweet time sauntering to the ring while Ace furiously tried tapping out on RUIN’s calf, to no avail because this isn’t a match. Once in the ring, Monte produced a mic to further berate the young kid.
Monte the Python: You think these people care, about your little win? Wrestling isn’t about the past, son, it’s about the now. You only as strong as your last moment kid, and your last?
Monte drops the mic and curb checks Ace’s face with his boot! RUIN finally lets the submission go and takes the mic that Monte dropped.
RUIN: Your last moment kid, is gettin’ shipped in the back of an ambulance. Don’t let the door hit ya on the ass on the way out.
Thatcher: Really? A despicable sneak attack with the numbers advantage to boot…the Meat Sauce Mafia makes me sick!
As EMTs rush around the ring to cart Ace Sky off, RUIN takes the opportunity to have a pose down with his forty-two inch pythons (brother), while Monte flashes his trademark “I can’t believe I’m getting paid for this” grin.
Backstage, we see the only fifth generation talent in the business today, Geoffrey Thomas Anderson the Fifth (or GTAV for short). The setting was plain, no logos or other pagentry. Just a camera and a man more arrogant than he is old. On his face he wore a plastic reconstructive mask, a symbol of remembrance for the headbutt heard round the world – courtesy of Hideaki Hideyoshi – but under the mask brewed anger. The anger of a man forced out of action for months following emergency surgery.
“Hideaki. Hiiiiddeeeaaaakkkkiiiiiii……………...”
The words seem to escape his lips, but no sound is made.
“We came into the company at the same time, and we put on the match of the night, but everywhere I go it’s Hideaki this, Hideaki that. It’s never ‘hey, that GTAV kid is something special.’ Why. You can’t have a good match without two great athletes. But you’re the one that gets the fame while I’m the one...sat at home.”
He looks away from the camera.
“What if it were you? What if I broke your nose? What if I sent you home, and I got the money, the fame, the championships, the ladies? What if *I* got the recognition? Tch.”
GTAV looks back dead ahead at the camera once more.
“Enjoy your twenty-nineteen, kid. Enjoy your bubbly, watch the ball drop. Cause in twenty-twenty, your time is up. And MY time, is now!”
Geoffrey Thomas Anderson V resigns with Whirlwind Wrestling for a multi-year deal. Check out his first match in September back at RANCOR!, and make sure you keep your eyes peeled for GTAV appearances to come, next year as Whirlwind Wrestling heads into the year twenty-twenty!
As the show rolls on, the camera pans in on a female fan taking a selfie. Kyle Ryan and his security team walks through the crowd…
Thatcher: Oh no, not this guy again…
Kyle Ryan: Ma'am hand over the phone please.
Female fan: Why what did I do?
Kyle Ryan: We have a strict no cell phone or tech gadget policy.
By now the live footage of Kyle Ryan harassing this fan has made it on screen, and these Tijuana locals are not at all pleased with his antics.
Kyle Ryan: Ma'am how quickly this process goes is up to you. Just hand over the phone or I'll have to ask you to leave the building.
Female: Are you kidding me? I didn't do anything.
Kyle Ryan gives a signal to his female security guard to remove the female fan from the building. The crowd loudly boos as he makes his way to ringside, over the guardrail and inside the ring and grabs a microphone.
Kyle Ryan: Ladies, gentlemen and nomophobes around the world. My name is Kyle Ryan and it's my first day working security."
“YOU’RE A DICK!”
“YOU’RE A DICK!”
“YOU’RE A DICK!”
Kyle Ryan: If I'm a dick because I enforce the rules then so be it!
“BOOOOOOO!”
Kyle Ryan: All I see in this crowd are tech addicts. You idiots don't understand anything if it isn't delivered to you through a text message or an emoji. It's pathetic! While I continue to work here as a security guard, I will make it my mission to make sure that whatever happens between these ropes stays between these ropes.
“BOOOOOOO!”
“BOOOOOOO!”
“BOOOOOOO!”
Kyle Ryan: None of the historic moments that happen in this ring will be turned into a gif for your enjoyment. From this point forward what happens in this ring will be sacred!
“YOU SUCK!”
“YOU SUCK!”
“YOU SUCK!”
Kyle Ryan: Oh you don't understand what I'm saying? Fine! Let me make this crystal clear so even you nomophobes can understand me. Here's an emoji from to all of you.
Kyle Ryan sticks up his middle finger at the crowd as he leaves the ring.
Thatcher: I don’t…I don’t know what we just witnessed. But for a first day on the job either the power has gone to his head, or he’s gone totally nuts. This is end of a decade and start of twenty-twenty. A time when social media rules the world. You can’t take the social world away from the people. This can’t possibly end well…
I’m sorry folks.
Backstage Double J Joe Jones is walking through some area on his way somewhere when Nikki Mynx stops him.
Nikki “Joe! Joe! Can I get just a few moments of your time?”
Joe stops, and slowly removes his shades and snaps the ear pieces inwards looking rather annoyed.
Joe “Fine, I guess.”
Nikki “I have to ask, how do you feel about the outcome of your match against B Epic at One Night Only? We haven’t heard from you since that loss to the International Whirlwind Champion.”
Joe takes a deep breath as he gathers his thoughts, you can see that the loss weights on him and he’s not in a good mood. Just as he speaks, he is interrupted.
“I think the question you should be asking…” Nanook says as he waddles into the picture. He stands across from Joe with a smirk on his face, Joe’s face starts to turn red with anger and poor Nikki is caught between them, fighting for space with Nanook’s huge belly. “Is, Is it true that was your last match we ever have to sit through? Because, quite frankly, At One Night Stand, you put a whole nation of normally, very excited wrestling fans, to SLEEP!”
Joe “Big talk from a fat fuck who hasn’t been in the ring in, what? A decade? Pretty sure you haven’t seen you dick in twice that amount of time.”
Nanook “There’s the Joe we all come to love, making dick jokes. Tell me Joe, how does it feel to see B Epic just smash your beloved record?”
Joe “That flash in the pan couldn’t match me on my worst day…”
Nanook “So? Night One Stand was an off night for you? Should I go talk to the office and set that rematch up for you, maybe next time you’ll be ready?”
Joe “I can get my own matches book thank you. Remember? I own your company now, it’s sorta my thing.”
Nanook “Only that you suck at it. If getting guys work is your deal, how come Bester is never in that ring?”
Joe “Jesus Fatty, read a doctors report once in a while. Best has a bum shoulder.”
Nanook “Weird? I’ve had three doctors clear him for action.”
Joe is about to respond when he is interrupted again. This time by Sutton. He walks up behind Nanook and this startles Nanook some.
? “In that case…”
Joe “Nanook, I believe you're quite aware of the exploits of Billy Sutton...meet my my newest client, fresh signed on the Whirlwind dotted line...”
Sutton slowly walks past his former manager, bumping him with his shoulder as he taps on the lid of his Skoal, Long cut Wintergreen chew with his thumb and stands next to Joe.
Sutton “I think, you should go, you know, get that Special Needs jerkoff, and, I don’t know.”
Sutton pops open his can of chew, takes a pinch and holds it for a second as he stares down Nanook.
Sutton “Tell his ass to get ready. Cuz I’ve been itching fer a fight.”
Sutton stuffs his bottom lip with chew.
Sutton “Der is nuttin’ more I want to do more than pop that window licker in his stupid mouth. Especially, after puttin’ up with his stupid ass all of des years. Know what I mean? Chubby.”
Nanook lets out a huff.
Nanook “This guy. Just look at him Nikki. Thinks he’s all of that and a bag of chips. Just wanders in from gods knows where, and demands a match with an athlete that is ten times better than him. This is a man Nikki, who just couldn’t cut in Tennessee. He had everything anyone would have killed for. A natural ability to not only take a beating, but dish it out. The fans loved him for some reason, they just loved NASCAR Billy. Then he got paid, and suddenly he wanted to be a race car driver, pissed away all of his money. Then there was, what was her name? Remind me? Oh? Why can’t I remember her name? The Mrs Sutton, who in less than a year of marriage, wanted a divorce and took half of his empire. Yeah then it was one trailer park whore after another and before long Nikki, Billy here was flat ass broke, living in an RV with some tatted up, fat bimbo looking for work because the great state of Tennessee showed him the door due to the fact he just couldn’t life up to the hype. You’re nothing but, all, talk. On your best day.”
Sutton goes to step forward when Joe puts his hand on his shoulder and pulls him back.
Joe “Then why don’t you waddle your stubby legs down that hallway and tell them to make the match, mouth. This is a match the whole wrestling world has been asking for for far too long. Sutton, Bester. Two big brawlers throwing down. You know Sutton is more than ready, but is Bester? I mean, if he is truly cleared to wrestle.”
Nanook “OH! He’s cleared!”
Sutton then spits this huge stream of chew spit at Nanook’s nice shoes, this causes both Nikki and Nanook to leap backwards, I mean, it is pretty disgusting. Nikki looks like she wants to hurl.
Sutton “Den it’s settled. Tell da leader of da kitten brigade dat Ima see him real soon in dat der ring. Then we’ll see whos all talk.”
Nanook looks down at his shoes and looks up at Sutton, disgusted by the spit on his shoes.
Nanook “He’ll be there. I promise you that!”
Sutton grins. “Lookin’ forward to it.”
Joe pats Sutton on the chest and they turn and leave, leaving Nikki, who covers her mouth and runs away to puke somewhere by the looks of it, and Nanook, pissed.
Hard Candy & Lego Deathmatch and ACE Wrestling Holiday Show 12/21/2014
WhirlwindⓇ Flashback said:
Main Event: Hard Candy & Lego Handicap Deathmatch
Josh Eagles & Flame Puppy vs THE Parker Van Peters
Josh Eagles & Flame Puppy vs THE Parker Van Peters
The cameras pan around the arena to see presents big and small strewn about the ringside area, and, hey, even the decorated Christmas tree from the Seasons Beatings Bash is still up. If you look closely, you can see the piece of turkey that Mac dropped on the floor, too.
Jason Alfonso: Ladies and gentlemen the following is the contest you have all been waiting for! It is the Hard Candy and Lego Handicap Deathmatch! And it is your main event of the Holiday evening!
*Ding. Ding. Ding.*
Spotlights begin to strobe rapidly around the arena (yes, if you have epilepsy, you should probably shield your eyes) as smoke begins to cover the floor in front of the entrance tunnel as THE Parker Van Peters enters from the back. He is wearing a white fur coat and is carrying a large red sack over his shoulder. He has his head lowered, but you can see him snicker to himself as the crowd boos. He slowly raises his head, and opens his coat displaying the ACE Pacific-Southwest Championship.
~Here we belong, fighting to survive , in a world with the darkest power!~
Jason Alfonso: Ladies and Gentlemen, entering the ring now…..He is the ACE Pacific-Southwest Champion, and the self-proclaimed Dynasty, this is THE! PARKER! VAN! PETERS!
THE Parker Van Peters walks down the ramp, showing off his title and laughing as the boos from the crowd seemingly empower him. He climbs up the ring steps and wipes his feet on the ring apron. THE Parker Van Peters then climbs into the ring, and opens with arms wide. He snaps and the referee reluctantly comes over and removes his white fur jacket. THE Parker Van Peters then heads over to a turnbuckle and starts to climb it.
~I am Immortal. I have inside me blood of kings.~
THE Parker Van Peters Climbs onto a turnbuckle and unsnaps his title belt. He holds it high by the strap as the music fills the air and the crowd erupts in a chorus of boos. He begins to scream back at the crowd.
THE Parker Van Peters: This is mine! All Mine! I am The Dynasty!
He slaps the front plate of his title and hops down. HE then walks over to the opposite corner and does the same motion. The music plays and he continues to yell back at the crowd, pointing out their inadequacies and such.
~We were Born to be Princes of the Universe.~
The lights return to normal with THE Parker Van Peters in the center of the ring.
THE Parker Van Peters: Ladies and gentlemen your champion is here. Feel free to react appropriately
"PVP SUCKS!"
"KICK HIM IN THE FACE!"
"KICK HIM IN THE FACE!"
THE Parker Van Peters rolls his eyes.
THE Parker Van Peters: This Christmas season, THE Parker Van Peters decided he wanted to give back this year. After all God has blessed THE Parker Van Peters and cares for me way more than He does for any of you people. But THE Parker Van Peters has felt led to do this. That's right, THE Parker Van Peters has gifts for you, the children!
THE Parker Van Peters jumps out of the ring and approaches the side with all the Sunshine Acres orphans in the front row.
Joseph Kahn: Really? Well this is a shock, I must admit. Has that Championship changed Parker for the better?
Johnny Deep: THE Parker Van Peters isn't obligated to change to please you - if you have a problem, you can get over it, or kick rocks!
THE Parker Van Peters reaches into the sack and passes out boxes to the rows of orphans. The kids' eyes light up with a smile as they open them, then they frown as they look at a piece of paper inside the boxes. THE Parker Van Peters steps back with a concerned expression.
THE Parker Van Peters: You may feel free to thank your benevolent champion. Those are savings bonds. In 10 years time, those bonds will mature and you will have 50 bucks waiting for you. You're welcome.
Johnny Deep: Oh, how thoughtful of our Champion!
Joseph Kahn: What?! Gim'me a break! Of everything he could do, he gives these kids some boring old savings bonds?! Come on now...
THE Parker Van Peters: Oh, THE Parker Van Peters gets it. Now you're sad. So THE Parker Van Peters will give you your real present...it's getting to watch me, standing here, proudly on display as your Champion of the Pacific-Southwest!
THE Parker Van Peters drops the empty sack on the floor and looks up, shutting his eyes and out-stretching his arms in receipt of the "praise" he expects from his "loyal subjects". Of course that's not what he received. But you probably already knew that.
"BOOOOOOO!"
"PVP SUCKS!"
"KICK HIM IN THE FACE!"
"PVP SUCKS!"
"KICK HIM IN THE FACE!"
THE Parker Van Peters opens his eyes to see the reaction for his selfless deed was not as he anticipated. He brings the mic back to his mouth furiously!
THE Parker Van Peters: Boo me?! Boo you! THE Parker Van Peters spent his hard-earned money, part of his Champion's Bonus mind you, to get gifts for all of you worthless brats, but THE Parker Van Peters gets heat because "it's not enough" of a gift for you?! I guess I shouldn't expect anything less from a group of spoiled kids sponging off MY tax dollars to keep you fed, clothed, and a roof over your head!
"BOOOOOOO!"
Joseph Kahn: Oh that's just such a low, despicable -- GRR!
THE Parker Van Peters: Maybe I shouldn't even have bothered. The Parker Van Peters is the embodiment of Greatness, At Any Cost! And every single one of you is the embodiment of bitter, petty jealousy!
Joseph Kahn: Oh my! Business is about to pick up!
PVP looks up, frozen in fear as Flame Puppy comes darting out of the entrance tunnel without even waiting for her announcement! As she reaches the end of the aisle PVP runs back near the announce table, just in time for Red & Green lights to start flashing on the stage and "Jingle Bell Rock" playing out over the PA system, much to the crowd's excitement!
The song continues until a noticeable voice booms over the speakers.
"ARE YOU READY?!
To which the crowd responds with a resounding "YES!" PVP looks around nervously as the voice continues on.
"ARE YOU READY...TO BE DEFINED?!
The crowd blows the roof off in approval as Josh Eagles reveals himself as he jumps the barricade opposite PVP! Flame Puppy comes around from the left, and Josh closes on the right! Josh is wearing a Santa beard and a Santa hat. His tights are green with candy canes on the side and Eagles written across the butt in red. He is wearing red boots, matching red and green elbow pads, and is wearing a fake silk unbuttoned Santa Shirt.
Jason Alfonso: Introducing, making his Awesome Championship Entertainment debut, he weighs 230 pounds and hails from Ottawa, Ontario, Canada. He is the #MainEvent, the #ShowStealer he is JOSH EAGLES!!!! And his partner, from the Austin, Tx Pokemon Center, she stands 5' 3" and is the current reigning, and defending ACE Junior Pro Champion...FLAME! PUPPY!
Joseph Kahn: What a night! The legendary Josh Eagles is making his in ring debut right here in ACE!
Johnny Deep: Even though this is just a one night deal, Josh Eagles appears to be in the holiday spirits and there is no doubt the fans are loving it.
Joseph Kahn: Don't forget Flame Puppy too! Her friendship with Josh goes way back to last summer in the former SKYFIRE Pro! Now she is teaming with her friend, and fighting her mortal rival! It's a Christmas miracle!
Puppy closes on PVP while PVP dives back and grabs a small present from the floor. Josh comes closer as PVP stands back up. Puppy comes up behind PVP, but PVP swings the present back, popping Puppy on the nose! He turns back around and swings at Josh, but Josh ducks! PVP swings back, but Josh side steps and PVP’s swing goes wide! Puppy steps back and slaps PVP in the back of his head, distracting him, which allows Josh to rip the present from PVP’s hands! Josh grins, rears back, and SMASHES the box off of PVP’s face! PVP stumbles around before Puppy grabs him and shoves him into the ring apron! PVP lets out a wheeze from the impact while Puppy and Josh look at each other and nod. Puppy leaps in the air to dropkick PVP’s spine as Josh blasts the back of his head with the present one more time! PVP takes the full impact and falls back, arms and legs sprawled outward!
Joseph Kahn: PVP thought he was smart, but his present surprise backfired!
Johnny Deep: I’m glad you’re supporting our Champion getting shown up…
Joseph Kahn: Johnny. I’m fairly certain everyone supports anybody who beats up on Parker.
Josh pulls PVP away from the ring skirt while Puppy dives under the ring, before pulling out…a giant candy cane! PVP reaches up to deliver a pair of jabs to Josh’ face, before looking up just in time to see Puppy’s giant candy cane come down on his head – but it hits the floor as PVP scrambles out of the way! Puppy turns around to see PVP roll into the ring under the bottom rope! Puppy and Josh huddle up for a quick moment before she jumps up on the apron, and Josh runs around to a different side. PVP looks to the Puppy side, and she stops. Josh grabs the rope and starts to pull himself up, but PVP looks to that side, and Josh backs off! Puppy starts to climb in the ring, but PVP gets closer, and Puppy stops. Josh climbs up on his side again, and PVP dashes over to him, driving his knee into Josh’s gut, and sending him crashing off the apron and to the floor below! PVP smirks and mimes a crying motion to Josh before turning to see Puppy stepping through the ropes again. PVP darts over to Puppy, BUT HE EATS A CANDY CANE SHOT TO THE HEAD! PVP staggers around while Puppy raises the cane up and smacks him upside his head again! Finally Puppy winds up and smacks PVP across his gut, breaking the cane and sending PVP to crumple to his knees! Puppy raises the two pieces of candy cane in the air, and receives a massive pop for her efforts!
“THANK YOU PUPPY!”
“ONE MORE TIME!”
“ONE MORE TIME!”
Joseph Kahn: I guess you could say he just got lit up…like a Christmas tree?
Johnny Deep: Don’t ever do that again.
Joseph Kahn: Look at Josh. That knee must’ve hit just the right spot.
Josh slowly gets up, albeit holding his ribs. He makes his way to the ring skirt and lifts it up before pulling out a small brown baggie. He holds it up for the crowd to see as he points at Puppy to direct her to the Christmas tree.
Joseph Kahn: Oh my! What’s in the baggie!?
Johnny Deep: Hopefully it’s some Anti-Eagles powder.
Josh climbs back in the ring under the bottom rope and stands up over PVP. Meanwhile Flame Puppy climbs up the Christmas tree, and steadies herself at the top next to the angel.
“PLEASE BE CAREFUL!”
Joseph Kahn: I hope that tree is sturdy!
Josh holds up the baggie and flashes a HUGE grin before opening the bag and holding it up for everyone to see!
“WHAT’S IN THE BAG!”
“DUMP IT OUT!”
“DUMP IT OUT!”
Josh nods his head and turns the bag upside down to reveal…A FIELD OF CANDY CORNS POURING OUT INTO THE CENTER OF THE RING! Josh gives Puppy the thumbs up, and Puppy raises her arm up and points at her elbow before shouting “IHOP!” The crowd responds in kind.
“WE WANT PANCAKES!”
Puppy takes a quick breath and leaps off, aiming her “IHOP Drop” (Diving Elbow Drop) to PVP – BUT PVP ROLLS OVER! PUPPY HITS THE CANDY CORNS! Josh stressfully grabs at his hair, completely agonized over Puppy’s miss! He quickly runs over to check on her!
“HOLY SHIT!”
The arena fell to a dead silence.
Joseph Kahn: These are those times when you realize the risks these individuals take are real.
Johnny Deep: I’m with you, Joseph. It’s all fun and games until someone dives into candy corn.
“The Jazz” stays close to Puppy as he continues to try and get an answer from her. Josh stands over her, still in shock. PVP gets up to a knee and looks up to see all the commotion around Puppy. He takes another breath and silently gets to his feet and creeps up behind Josh, grabbing him and lifting him up and slamming him HARD into the mat with the “#SWAGplex” (Cobra Clutch Suplex)! PVP flips Josh over and covers him with a lateral press…but “The Jazz” is still tending to Puppy. PVP slaps the mat to get his attention. But “The Jazz: ignores him. Finally, he shouts. “Hey, Jazz, count my pin!” “The Jazz” looks over and quickly dives into position to count the fall.
1!
2!
Josh kicks out!
PVP glares at “The Jazz”. “You just cost me a victory!”
A couple of ACE medics finally come down to the ring with a stretcher, only to be met with disapproval from the crowd!
“LET THEM FIGHT!”
“LET THEM FIGHT!”
“LET THEM FIGHT!”
The medics push the stretcher in the ring, to which PVP smirks.
Joseph Kahn: Why is he so happy about one of his co-workers being hauled out? This isn’t how you want these matches to end…
Johnny Deep: Think about it. Without Flame Puppy, Parker only has to focus on Josh. His chances of winning just drastically went up.
PVP goes back to Josh. He stares down at him before delivering a pair of sick, twisted stomps, to Josh’s face! Josh recoils and tries to cover up his face before PVP does a third stomp! Meanwhile the medical officials have Puppy strapped into the stretcher and have begun transporting her out of the ring. PVP offers a casually sarcastic wave before turning back to Josh. He looks around him to see the broken candy cane, the candy corns, presents…and lets out a disgusted sigh. He yells out “I’m the Champ now this is how I win!” before he grabs Josh in a front facelock and pulls him to his feet. PVP lets out a grunt as he lifts Josh into the air with a suplex, holding him there for a moment.
Joseph Kahn: Wow check out the poise of the Champ.
Johnny Deep: He’s the Champ for a reason!
Still holding…
Still holding…
On the way down, Josh grabs PVP’s head and spins him around, taking him to the mat with a Tornado DDT! PVP holds his head in pain as Josh kips up, to the excitement of the crowd! He looks over and sees Puppy halfway up the aisle and points, waiting for the crowd’s response!
“GO GET PUPPY!”
“BRING HER BACK!”
“BRING HER BACK!”
Josh nods and makes a dash up the aisle. He gets in the face of the medical team and, while we can’t hear it all, we can make out “Not this way” and “This is her match. Let her finish it.” The medical team tries pushing her up the aisle anyway, but Josh gets in front to block them. “No, let her have her match!” The medical staff looks at each other and sighs before agreeing with Josh. Together the three of them get Puppy off the stretcher and Josh walks her back to the ring. He asks her if she is ok, and she lets out a somewhat dizzy “Yes” before getting back in the ring. Josh follows her. The two look at PVP, and then back at each other. Josh looks at PVP once more before Puppy slaps Josh on the chest and shouts “EAGLES…GET THE PRESENTS!”
“GET THE PRESENTS!”
“YES! YES! YES!”
“YES! YES! YES!”
Josh and Puppy jump out of the ring and each grab a present from opposite sides, and a mic, before getting back in the ring. Josh brings his mic up and reads the tag; "Puppy, this present is from the fans of ACE to THE Parker Van Peters!" The crowd cheers as Josh opens it up and pours legos all over the ring. Then Puppy brings her mic up and says "Josh, this presents is from Viktoria Vixen and the rest of the ACE Roster to THE Parker Van Peters!" The crowd once again cheers and she pours out the contents of her box, which is mostly Jolly Ranchers!
Johnny Deep: Come on Parker, now is NOT the time to get up…
PVP slowly gets to his feet, but Puppy drops the mic and spins around to nail him with the “Foxygen Kick” (Buzzsaw Kick)!
Joseph Kahn: The kick!
BUT PVP WEAVES OUT OF THE WAY!
“BOOOOOOO!”
Josh pulls PVP up to his feet, and plants him into the candy corns, jolly ranchers, and legos WITH THE “EAGLES WINGS” (Crucifix Driver)!
Joseph Kahn: That’s gotta be all!
Rather than pinning him, Josh instead rips the bow off of his present, and sticks it on PVP’s head. He motions at Puppy to “get ready”. Josh turns PVP over onto his chest, and lifts his head up and holds it (like a field goal prop). He calls Puppy over and her eyes light up. She takes a deep breath as all this excitement washes over her, and the crowd!
“THIS IS AWESOME!”
“KICK HIM IN THE FACE!”
“THIS IS AWESOME!”
“KICK HIM IN THE FACE!”
“THIS IS AWESOME!”
“KICK HIM IN THE FACE!”
“KICK HIM IN THE FACE!”
“THIS IS AWESOME!”
“KICK HIM IN THE FACE!”
“THIS IS AWESOME!”
“KICK HIM IN THE FACE!”
Joseph Kahn: This is it, the moment we’ve been waiting for is here!
Puppy winds up and yells out “FOXYGEN KICK!” Puppy lifts her foot up and swings into this!
Johnny Deep: HA! YES! Josh just pulled the rug out from under Flame Puppy!
Josh lets go of PVP’s head and gets up, helping Puppy up in the process…BEFORE HE DRIVES HER INTO THE JOLLY RANCHERS WITH THE “EAGLES WINGS” (Crucifix Driver)! The arena falls to a dead silence. More shock than anything.
Joseph Kahn: !!!
Johnny Deep: !!!
Joseph Kahn: WHAT!?
Johnny Deep: JOSH DID IT!
Joseph Kahn: Why, Eagles, why?
Johnny Deep: Because he knows what it takes to be a success in this business!
Josh stands over the two while still in utter silence, before he grabs PVP’s arm and pulls him over Flame Puppy!
“BOOOOOOO!”
“YOU’RE AN ASSHOLE!”
“EAGLES SOLD OUT!”
“YOU’RE AN ASSHOLE!”
“EAGLES SOLD OUT!”
“The Jazz” looks at Josh, shocked and asking him what’s going on, to which Josh just says “Count it.”
“The Jazz” drops down to count the fall.
1!
2!
3!
Jason Alfonso: Ladies and gentlemen, your winner of the Handicap Hard Candy and Lego Deathmatch…he is the ACE Pacific-Southwest Champion! THE! PARKER! VAN! PETERS!
”Princes of the Universe” begins to play while Josh stands in the ring, completely proud of what he’s just done. “The Jazz” raises PVP’s hand for a moment before letting it drop. He retrieves their titles and sets them across the appropriate holder’s chest.
Joseph Kahn: I-don’t. I-just. What have we witnessed?
Johnny Deep: We’ve witnessed Josh Eagles finally grabbing his balls and making sure people recognize that he isn’t some happy-go-lucky kiss-ass anymore. Josh Eagles is the real deal.
Josh leaves the ring and quickly jumps the barricade, dodging incoming half-empty drinks and half eaten nachos being hurled towards him from the crowd! Meanwhile, PVP slowly just starts to get up. He grabs his Championship and casts a quick glance back to Flame Puppy before shaking his head. A chuckle escapes his lips before he steps through the ropes and onto the floor.
Joseph Kahn: What a way for a Champion to win…is that REALLY the kind of guy we want representing ACE?
Johnny Deep: What, a winner? Yes, I want the man representing our company to be a winner. And that’s exactly what THE Parker Van Peters did here tonight!
Joseph Kahn: But the way he did it…
Johnny Deep: The way? The deck was stacked against him from the start! He had to take on Flame Puppy’s specialty match, with the numbers NOT in his favor, with a whole company against him…yet this is the strength of our Champion! He has the strength to overcome even the greatest odds!
Halfway up the aisle PVP looks dead ahead, and just stops. He shakes his head once, but the same person is still there – Viktoria Vixen! As Vixen walks towards him, it becomes clear the object she is carrying is a cannon of some sort! PVP puts his hands up to back her off, but she ignores him and continues on down the aisle.
Joseph Kahn: Get him, Viktoria!
Johnny Deep: Oh yeah, cheer on the disgruntled former Champ with a cannon!
Viktoria catches up to him and aims the cannon right at PVP’s face! PVP’s knees begin shaking in fear while this crowd is coming alive for her!
“PULL THE TRIGGER!”
“DO IT VIX!”
“DO IT VIX!”
She pulls the trigger finally and some blue colored foreign object comes flying out of the cannon, colliding with PVP’s eye and knocking him on his ass! As PVP falls, the object unravels itself, draped over PVP’s face.
Joseph Kahn: Haha! Would you look at that?
Johnny Deep: She SHOT HIM in the face!
Joseph Kahn: …with a #KickHimInTheFace t-shirt. Context, man. Anyway, for Johnny Deep, I’m Joseph Kahn, have a happy and safe holiday everyone!
The cameras jump backstage to be greeted by Nikki Mynx stood in front of a Whirlwind Wrestling banner. With a big grin she raised her microphone to her lips and started;
Nikki Mynx: Ladies and gentlemen at this time please welcome my guest. He is quote “The Consortium’s Chosen” unquote Antonio Scarlotti...The Aristocrat.
The camera shifts to the left to show Antonio walking into frame. The first feature you’d notice is his luscious blonde hair, thick and long as ever, but followed soon after by his well-pressed, very finely crafted Italian three-piece double-breasted suit. Nikki extended her hand to Whirlwind’s newest signing...Antonio quickly brushed her away, taking the mic and ordering the camera to zoom in on only himself.
A smattering of boos could be heard in the backdrop…
Antonio Scarlotti: Finally. Finally, you have a reason to watch this show, for you have The Italian Savior, your hero, your wife’s wet dream and the future of Whirlwind Wrestling…the prettiest man in all of wrestling the world over…
I am The Aristocrat. The answer to the question “who is the best at all things in life”, and the true five star machine…Antonio Scarlotti.
Thatcher: Oh brother…if I have to listen to this guy fawn all over himself any longer, we’ll need to look for a new announcer because I’ll have a bullet in my head!
Antonio Scarlotti: When Whirlwind Wrestling relaunched in the autumn of twenty-nineteen, the company reached out in earnest faith to all former so-called professionals. The Consortium was a new entity, he had taken over where the former management had left off and he was here to revitalize what once was a profitable company. Some names took heed to the call – mostly common plebs whom are desperate for another dollar they can throw away on booze and cheap McDonald’s food like the foolish American consumer they all are. But one man, the company wanted him to return, as the alleged best wrestler in the company. Several e-mails were sent, several phone calls were made, several contracts were offered. All of which blown off without even two words from the so-called great.
Thatcher: There’s only two men this guy could be talking about, so…
Antonio Scarlotti: But not to fear. The business must go on, and so you, you know whom you are...have been replaced. Replaced, by a superior species…me. That’s right, all of what I have could have been yours, but you had to be like the rest of the stupid capitalist American scum, just another of the bottom feeder afraid of losing the little status you had that you couldn’t dare show your face again. But you are grotesque anyway…so it’s not like I could blame your inability to answer the phone, you barely could even look at such a disgusting face in the mirror anyway…
Thatcher: Is this guy just gonna ramble on and on about – whoa my God, over there!
Just then the camera shifts to the left, revealing the one and the only…
…
…
…
Leon Tyrell!!
Without a word spoken, Leon stares at the Italian Aristocrat, his appearance enough to send Antonio speechless. The camera shifts from Leon to Antonio, several times, every few seconds, until Leon walks away. The camera fading to ringside as he does.
Thatcher: I don’t believe it. All these months later, and we finally, for the first time since summer twenty-eighteen, see that Leon Tyrell has returned to Whirlwind Wrestling?!
Backstage…
There is loud music being played…
Very loud music….
Lots of bass…..
Strobe lights….
Half naked chicks…
And one very drunk, brand new, International Whirlwind Wrestling champion living it up….
Who could also be naked…….
All the Bad Ass James Kelloggs is wearing is his newly won championship belt!
Thankfully the faceplate of the belt is quite big on him!
With a bottle of bubbly in his hand, a hottie in the other, he spots the camera, sporting the biggest smile. His flushed cheeks, bloodshot eyes and slurred speech. Champion James holds up his bottle of bubbly and holds the hottie a little tighter.
“Suck my dick you bitches!” James exclaims and then pours the bottle over himself “I told you I would fucking win this motherfucker right here!” as James tugs on the belt. “Now you all can kiss my ass!” The champ proclaims and then kisses the hottie on his arm.
Fade out.
Gulf Coast Championship
Countout Only Match
Veronica Taylor© w/ Bianca Davis vs The Mastodon
Countout Only Match
Veronica Taylor© w/ Bianca Davis vs The Mastodon
Thatcher: Finally, our main event, and what a barn burner this is gonna be! The Mastodon has been chasing Veronica Taylor for months, as far back as Southern Florida Wrestling and every time they’ve met The Mastodon has absolutely left his mark on her...but somehow, she’s always left with the title. Now with no rules, with no Saturn Boys, it’s just Veronica and her BFF Bianca Davis to withstand this man beast...and I gotta be honest, I don’t think she has what it takes, and I don’t want to see her somehow escape. That title deserves a holder whom will defend it vigilantly, and with honor…
Cruz Bleckley: Ladies and gentlemen the following contest is a Count Out Only Match, for the Gulf Coast Championship, and is your main event of the evening! Introducing first, the challenger, he is the rampaging man beast, THHHHEEEE MAAASSSTTOOODDDOONNNN!!
“MAS-TO-DON!”
“MAS-TO-DON!”
“MAS-TO-DON!”
The Mastodon stomps around the ring, pumping up his arms in unison to the chants of Tijuana for this man to finally take his rightful place as Gulf Coast Champion.
Cruz Bleckley: And his opponent…
“BOOOOOOO!”
Cruz Bleckley: Being accompanied by Bianca Davis, she is the reigning, defending Gulf Coast Champion and the self-proclaimed Queen of Mean...VEEERROOONNNIIICCCAAA!! TTAAAYYYLLLOOORRRR!!!
Ding. Ding.
Mastodon ferociously lunges across the ring at Veronica, whom instinctively tries to back up into the ropes! But Mastodon gets right up on her, with punches to her torso and slaps to the side of her head! She screams at senior official The Jazz for help, but he shrugs his shoulders – can’t disqualify someone in a Countout Only Match!
Mastodon finally backs up and lets her out, only to come right back and send her FLYING over the top rope with a thunderous lariat! Vero’s body makes a loud and unceremonious thud – to the approval of these Tijuana natives, naturally – as her body hits the floor. Of course as she does…
1!
2!
Bianca runs around to check on her BFF as Mastodon celebrates and poses in the ring!
Thatcher: Look at the strength of Mastodon! How on Earth did Veronica believe she had a fighting chance here?!
Vero is slow to sit up while Bianca whispers in her ear. It’s clear she had no intentions of getting back in the ring any time soon…
Mastodon slaps his head a couple times as he yells “GET UP!” And this crowd is absolutely eating him up…
3!
4!
Finally, Vero goes around one side and Bianca around the other…
Thatcher: We’ve seen this before…
Mastodon begs them both to come on in, he’ll destroy them. Bianca jumps up on her side, and starts to enter when Mastodon charges across and she jumps down, quickly grabbing his head to guillotine him across the ropes! This prompts Vero to quickly slide in and chop block his knee from behind him. For the first time in this match – or even rivalry – Vero has taken Mastodon off his feet! Vero then starts stomping on Mastodon while Bianca reaches under the ring, pulling out...a bag clearly from somewhere located on Rodeo Drive. It was stripped with white and light pink on it, she slides it into the ring with Vero. Vero reaches in and pulls out...a stiletto heel!
Thatcher: Whoa! That’s pretty sharp, c’mon Veronica even you can’t be this desper –
Before he could finish the sentence, Vero slams the stiletto heel into Mastodon’s chest! The shoe just kinda sits there in his meaty physique while she stands over him, both her arms outstretched and the most bitchy look plastered across her face…
“BOOOOOOO!”
Vero blows a kiss to her “adoring” public then directs Bianca to join her. Collectively, the duo known worldwide as “The Pretty Committee”, were standing tall over a man whom could easily turn them into mush. Vero then turns and puts one foot over Mastodon’s chest while Bianca drops down to mock count the pin.
“1…”
“2…”
Mastodon powers out!
Thatcher: How did he do that?!
With one feral grunt, he rips the stiletto heel from his chest and throws it at Vero, whom narrowly ducks her own shoe! Then he turns to Bianca and as she slowly starts to back away, he pounces on top of her; a punch, two, three, four, five – before Vero jumps on his back to disrupt him – but instead he springs back up to his feet and marches around, until dumping her off him with a back body drop, ONTO Bianca!! He snarls, then grabs the two girls and throws them over the top rope and to the floor below! The two make a loud thud while The Jazz begins his count;
1!
2!
3!
4!
5!
Vero starts a slow, dizzying attempt at standing up, together with Bianca. It didn’t go very well, and the two of them stumble toward the guard rail, where they barely can stand as long as they hold onto it.
6!
7!
“MAS-TO-DON!”
“MAS-TO-DON!”
The chant was maddening, if you were The Pretty Committee, anyway. How dare Tijuana cheer for this buffoon instead of the sweetest, prettiest women in wrestling, anyway? Basics don’t know anything! Or so they must’ve thought.
8!
Finally, Bianca pushes Vero into the ring skirt, which she uses to barely slide under the rope and break the count…
Thatcher: Mastodon is going to have to figure out another way…he’s never gonna get an end to this as long as the other woman is out there.
With the count broken, Mastodon rolls his eyes and decides to join the party outside the ring. There would be no running then, and as long as both of them were outside, Jazz wouldn’t count because these people paid good money for a main event and he wasn’t about to rob them of that. We all want to see who will walk out as Gulf Coast Champion!
Once outside, Mastodon rushed to spear Bianca back into the steel guard rail! You could almost hear her spine crack through the arena, and then, there was only one. It was in that moment, with Bianca down, The Saturn Boys not at the arena, Veronica found herself all alone with The Mastodon for the first time ever. And the look on her face told the story that we all knew she was thinking…
“It was at that moment, she knew, she bleeped up…”
Thatcher: Finally! Time to pay the piper, Veronica!
She started to run – but Mastodon was quicker as he grabbed her hair! Vero elbowed him in the face, the impact seeming to not phase him at least at present. He scooped her up on his shoulder…and slammed her down with a scoop powerslam, right on the floor! It was like the entirety of Tijuana approved, and he could do no wrong…
“MASTOBOMB!”
“MASTOBOMB!”
“MASTOBOMB!”
They were all calling for it. This was it. The Mastodon’s “Mastobomb” (Deep Six) was all that stood between him and the Gulf Coast Championship…
Thatcher: C’mon, Mastodon, if you kill Veronica now, The Whirlwind will be free of her pettiness and jealousy…
He knew. And it was in that moment that he picked up Veronica’s lifeless body, he pulled her into powerbomb position – and then the lights went out!
Piercing the darkness was only an audible voice. That voice spoke out, over a loudspeaker…
Tango. Uniform. Charlie.
And when the lights came back on, there stood one man behind The Mastodon dressed in full SWAT gear. The man jammed a riot baton into Mastodon’s back, electrical current came shooting out and sending spasms into his spine!
Thatcher: What the hell…?
Mastodon was sent to the floor, riving in pain as his body convulsed. The man in SWAT gear went first to Bianca and helped her up. Then he went to Veronica and helped her up.
Thatcher: Waitaminute…
Finally, the man outstretched his arms wide and made a loud, guttural noise, that sounded a lot like “OOOOOHHHHH!! AAAAAHHHHH!!” And then, finally, the SWAT mask came off…
Thatcher: OHMYGOD YOU’VE GOTTA BE KIDDING ME! NO. NO. NO!!
Jacob Hotstuff himself. The self-proclaimed Michael Bay of Pro Wrestling, the man audacious enough to refer to himself as “Hollywood Jesus”. Together again with Veronica Taylor and Bianca Davis, the three of them having reformed – for the first time since twenty-eighteen – The Upper Class.
Thatcher quickly gets up to get out of dodge as the trio makes their way to the desk. Just like that in everyone’s shock, Vero and Bianca got Mastodon up on Jacob’s shoulders, and together the three of them brought Mastodon down – right there on top of the announce table! Just like old time’s sake. The three stood there over The Mastodon, their fists extended in celebration of their rich and overly privileged lifestyle as though it made them a band of siblings…
Thatcher: You could count to a thousand and Mastodon wasn’t going to get up…but, but I, I can’t even believe this! The Upper Class is a relic of season one, there was no reason, no need to bring this socioeconomic oppression back on TV! Veronica Taylor she, her back was against the wall and she knew she couldn’t defeat The Mastodon alone, and she did the one thing…
The trio stepped back into the ring and, as predicted, The Mastodon wasn’t even moving as The Jazz begrudgingly had to count him out.
1!
2!
3!
4!
5!
6!
7!
8!
9!
…
…
…
…
…
10!
Cruz Bleckley: Ladies and gentlemen, your winner as a result of a count-out, AND STILL the Gulf Coast Champion…the self-proclaimed Queen of Mean...VEEERROOONNNIIICCCAAA!! TTAAAYYYLLLOOORRRR!!!
Bianca and Jacob work together to fasten the Gulf Coast Championship around Veronica’s waist while Veronica outstretches both of her arms triumphantly. Her bitchy smirk remained, but you could see the pain in her face. Veronica may have won the battle here tonight, but the Scars of War were real. This would not be a fight she forgot, nor the Whirlwind faithful...and especially not The Mastodon.
Thatcher: Folks, I don’t know what to say, aside from just, “wow”. What a way to end twenty-nineteen. What a way to start twenty-twenty. This has been Seasons Past, and for Whirlwind Wrestling, I’m Derrick Thatcher. Good night everyone, and, we’ll see you all in the new year!
