|
|
Post by Spencer Adams on Jun 5, 2016 23:36:23 GMT -6
 Overload introThe camera pans around the arena, showing another packed house as Danger Zone by Kenny Loggins echoes off the walls of the UCI Warehouse.
Michael Stelzner: Welcome, ladies and gentlemen to Overload! Tonight, we’ve got a jam packed card for you all that will be sure to shake the foundation of the business to it’s core as we find out who advances to the finals of the tournament to decide our first ever UCI World Champion!
Justin Chambers: Also on the card is a big time TV title match between Wentworth Updegraff Jr. and Shadowlove that’s sure to be one hell of a battle!
Christopher Morrell: Question is, who will face the winner of that match next Sunday at Lazarus? Will it be Occulo or Kyle Kemp?
Michael Stelzner: A lot of possibilities here for everyone I’d say as this star studded roster of ours continues to shoot for the stars!
|
|
|
|
Post by Spencer Adams on Jun 5, 2016 23:37:08 GMT -6
Mickey Vegas vs. Blake Adams
The pageantry and theatrics of the opening sequence to this week’s overload have barely subsided for seconds before a young man with a shaved head in basic, black wrestling pads and trunks makes a silent walk down the stretch of entrance ramp that connects the squared circle to the rest of the warehouse. Not much fanfare follows him but for a small cluster of fans who applaud him from the third row at ringside; friends and family most likely.
Heston Meeks: Making his way to the ring, from right here in Chicago, Illinois. Weighing in tonight at one-hundred and ninety-three pounds, and standing at exactly six feet tall: Blaaaaaaake Adams!
The twenty-something upstart from just around the corner slides under the bottom rope and begins to stretch out his limbs but for a few seconds before the crowd is brought to their feet, however momentarily by a catchy combination of guitar chords that wind up just creating some generic entrance music.
Justin Chambers: We have a stacked card here tonight and we don’t have to wait very long to jump into the action as we await the in-ring debut of Mickey Vegas.
Chris Morrell: Stacked? I have no idea who either of these cunts even are!
Mickey Vegas appears from behind the curtain, not much more than a teenager himself. Dressed as though he was playing an acoustic set about the impending extinction of bumble-bees at a local coffee house for the vegan community rather than a wrestling match , the debutant stands centre-stage in black skinny jeans and an obscure Kings of Leon tee predating the release of their first album; Youth & Young Manhood. His greasy black hair shines under the fluorescent lighting from overhead and the tattered guitar strapped to his back sways with his step as he takes a slow stroll down to the ring and his first shot at making a name for himself in the UCI.
Heston Meeks: … Aaaand his opponent; from Atlantic City, New Jersey…
Mickey Vegas: Stop!.. Stop!.. Wait!..
The ring announcer finds himself interrupted before he can finish this introduction as Mickey himself, clearly not a follower of the “any publicity is good publicity” mantra, snatches a microphone from one of the roadies and steps through the ropes, holding the elasticated cables apart as he demands that the same roadie pass his guitar into the ring with him. After treating the instrument with the same respect and manners that one would show to a woman he clears his throat and motions across the ring for his opponent to wait as he clutches the guitar in playing position and begins to tune it in front of the crowd, much to their dislike.
Mickey Vegas: Please would you quiet down for a moment! I have prepared a short sonnet about this barbaric institution and if you’ll just allow me a moment to tune my guitar…
The hipster spends a few moments smiling at the crowd before beginning to twist at the dials and strum each string separately, in an attempt to achieve perfection.
Mickey Vegas: Eeeeee!... E…. Eeeeee! Geeee.. G… G-G-G-Geeeeee!
Michael Stelzner: Fuck this guy! Nobody even knows his name and this is the first impression he wants to make? Kick him in the throat and steal his shoes Chicago!
**E-Commercial**
Mickey Vegas: Efffffff…. F-F… Efffff.
As we come back from a delightful YouTube advertisement for whatever revamped techno song from the nineties Calvin Harris has decided to resurrect and sodomize this week Mickey still stands in the corner, announcing each individual chord and changing the tone of his voice as he twists the strings into tune. For the second time in two weeks the crowd is uncharacteristically happy to cheer the opening riff from Halestorm’s “I am the Fire” proving that even the most unsavory of men are preferable to insufferable lists of egg preparation and unscheduled guitar sessions.
Taylor Wright: No, no no… you’re doing it all WRONG! Let me show you… the… WRIGHT way to do things.
Christopher Morell: I echo my sentiments from last week when I say… wut the fucc is this cunt doin’ out here.
Justin Chambers: Apparently Taylor Wright doesn’t like when people are annoying over a commercial break.
Taylor Wright enters the ring as both Mickey Vegas and his opponent Blake Adams stand their ground and start yelling obscenities at the leather clad man.
Mickey Vegas: If you don’t mind… I was in the middle of something here…
Out of nowhere Wright runs forward with a lariat clothesline knocking Adams nearly out of his boots and over the top rope to the floor below. He turns around and sets his menacing glare towards Vegas, who looks a little uneasy but overall ready to fight.
Taylor Wright: Look at you all ready to go. Lookin’ like you’re a big tough man. I like it, dude. You got moxy… you got grit. You’re just the type of guy my boss would be looking for.
Michael Stelzner: Mr. Wright has been talking about his boss for two weeks so far. I’m starting to think that he’s just spouting nonsense.
Mickey Vegas smiles a little bit under his grimace. He lowers his hands and turns his head sideways…
Taylor Wright: Yeah… now you got it. You see my boss is looking to rebuild his empire… he’s been… well, indisposed of for a while. He… well, let’s say his last interaction with a certain Livewire didn’t go exactly as planned…
Justin Chambers: A certain Livewire?
Christopher Morell: This fuccin’ guy looks like he’s been electrocuted one too many times.
Michael Stelzner: One time being electrocuted is too much…
Justin Chambers: Shut up guys… my dick hat is on… I mean detective hat… anyway, I think he’s dropping clues… I think I know who the boss is…
Taylor Wright: But he’s back, and he’s bigger and badder than ever. He’s ready to take the UCI by the balls. Like I said last week… he’s got a name you’ll always remember and a face you’ll never forget…
“So don’t breathe when I talk, cause you haven’t been spoken to.”
The stand-out lyrics from Royal Blood’s “Out of the Black” send shivers up the spine of everybody in the warehouse, from child to churro-vendor. The lights turn out and a thick purple fog fills the entrance ramp. A dark figure can be seen emerging through the mist, flanked on either side by two larger silhouettes, bringing the total number of people on the ramp up to five. A spotlight shines down causing just enough shadow to keep him hidden, although the music has already planted the seed in the minds of those who follow the independent wrestling circuit. A familiar voice rings through the arena with an ominous quote…
Voice: Finish Him!
Mr. Wright shrugs and smiles, dropping the microphone after punctuating his sentence.
Taylor Wright: You heard the man…
Wright pushes Vegas towards the ropes and when he returns he pops him up and slams him down hard to the ground with a vicious powerbomb. Mickey lays there lifeless as Wright picks up the microphone again.
Taylor Wright: The garbage has been taken care of, boss…I know you never really cared for men who waste time talking, when they should be working.
Voice: Well done, Mr. Wright...
The man steps out of the purple mist to the collective gasp of the audience, his face still fresh in their memories from performances at a certain wrestling organization before the crash of humanity. He makes his way down the entrance ramp and to the ring, gesturing for the four men in his entourage to walk ahead. The security detail obliges, donned in black riot-gear, complete with shields, batons and visors. Hanging back for a few seconds, David Sanchez allows his squad of faceless thugs to slip into the ring and retrieve the fallen body of Mickey Vegas, dragging him out of the ring and holding the barely conscious young man in front of their boss for a few moments, awaiting further instruction.
Justin Chambers: It’s him… I knew it… wait?
Christopher Morell: OH, NO!
Michael Stelzner: We haven’t seen this guy in ages!
Justin Chambers: This is even better than I imagined… ladies and gentlemen… UCI is in for a serious change with this guy here.
Sanchez lunges forwards from a few steps back, stretching out his right leg and driving it straight into the face of the unfortunate Mickey Vegas with the move he once referred to as the “Medusa’s Touch” A Yakuza kick which has won him matches the world over. The Man in Black hit’s the ground like wet cement being poured out of a window and remains there but for a few seconds before Sanchez commands the security detail to remove him from the building. Wasting little time, the four anonymous agents of change grab a limb each and carry Mickey up the ramp and off camera as David walks up the steel-steps and between the ropes as Mr. Wright separates them so that his boss does not further perspire in his thousand dollar suit.
David Sanchez: … For those of you who don’t know me…
The crowd erupts into a barrage of boos and jeers for the two men in the ring, focusing most of their hatred at the newly revealed Plague until Taylor Wright speaks up, sensing the annoyance of his boss.
Mr. Wright: … Will you people, shut the fuck up. Don’t you know who makes the trains run on time around here?
David Sanchez: Thank you Taylor. Now where was I; Oh yes, for those of you who don’t know me, my name is David Sanchez, but you can call me; the Mayor.
The thousand-strong crowd in the arena mutter hateful sentiments and continue to boo, only feeding the ego of the two men in the ring.
Chris Morrell: So, first he thinks he’s a god, then a plague... Now he thinks he’s the mayor of Chicago? Someone check this cunt’s passport, he looks Colombian!
Justin Chambers: Actually Chris, he did make an unopposed run for office only a few months after the world stopped working. Although the official title was never given, he was never oathed into the job and he is a novice politician at best he’s been the closest thing this city has had to a mayor since before everything changed. Besides, he looks more Chilean.
Michael Stelzner: I was thinking Costa-Rican! We should start a betting pool.
Enjoying being the center of attention, David waits patiently for the crowd to stop verbally abusing him and his apparent employee before beginning to speak once more.
Mayor Sanchez: What? Were you expecting someone else? Sorry, not sorry.
David laughs a little at the crowd's expense, Taylor had been leaving them a false trail of breadcrumbs for weeks and allowing them to jump to a very different conclusion.
Mayor Sanchez: Well... I won't allow you to waste too much of my time, things to do, people to see. Enjoy the show, peasants.
With that said, David drops the microphone and poses in the ring with Mr. Wright for a few moments to ensure he is photographed by every paparazzo in the building before they just simply leave, strolling up the ramp as nonchalant as they had interrupted this match in the first place.
|
|
|
|
Post by Spencer Adams on Jun 5, 2016 23:37:35 GMT -6
Asher Bradley vs. Demarcus Jordan
"My Buddy" by G-Unit plays on the speakers as the lights dim down and red spot lights begin to light up the arena. Asher walks out from the back with a leather jacket on his back. He raises his hand up to the ring in the form of a gun before running down the ramp and sliding under the bottom rope into the ring. He then climbs on top of the turnbuckle. Asher fires his hand guns once again before crossing them against his chest and blowing them out. He then turns and sits indian style upon the top of the turnbuckle.
"#1" by Nelly blares over the PA system as DeMarcus comes out and does a superman pose on the stage. He walks down the ramp, taking his time, talking shit to the fans and whatnot. He walks up the steps and steps in the ring, he does another pose as his music dies out.
Christopher Morell: Christ, I know we're low budget, but you'd think these people would put a little more effort into promoting themselves.
(DING! DING! DING!)
Asher and DeMarcus lock up, with Asher immediately slipping into a side headlock. Jordan backs him into the ropes to force a break, then shoves Bradley across the ring. The Hired Gun rebounds off the other side and comes back with a full head of steam. DeMarcus jumps up, looking for a dropkick, and Asher sidesteps him, continuing into the ropes once more. Jordan scrambles to his feet and whips around just as Bradley jeaps into the air, dropping Jordan back to the mat with a Busaiku knee. Asher shoots at DeMarcus with a finger gun, then backs up a few paces, lining Jordan up for a punt kick. Bradley comes at DeMarcus at a full sprint, but Jordan pulls back at the last second, and Asher's foot connects with nothing. Slightly off balance, the Hired Gun is unable to react before DeMarcus rolls him up in a schoolboy.
ONE!
TWO!
And Asher kicks out. When he climbs to his feet, Bradley voices his concerns to the ref, namely that DeMarcus had hooked his tights. Tha official argues that he saw nothing of the sort, then quickly dives out of the way as Jordan tackles Asher from behind. After a flurry of wild punches, DeMarcus pulls Bradley up to a vertical base, and hooks him for a suplex. The Hired Gun blocks the first attempt, and Jordan fires off a few shots to the ribs to soften him up. DeMarcus manages to lift Asher off the ground in the second attempt, but Bradley reverses the moment, and rolls DeMarcus up with a Small Package press.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
(DING! DING! DING!)
Christopher Morell: Did that seriously just happen? Oh my fucking god, who loses to a Small Package?
Michael Stelzner: I have to admit, this is definitely one of the shorter matches we've seen here in UCI.
Justin Chambers: I didn't even get any commentary in on this one!
Enraged at the loss, DeMarcus slips out of the ring for a moment, then slides back in wielding a chair. A solid shot across the shoulders drops Asher to the mat, and another one keeps him there.
(DING!DING!DING!DING!DING!)
Jordan raises the chair high overhead, when the referee steps in front of him, trying to talk some sense into DeMarcus. A kick to the junk puts the official on his knees, and Jordan brings the chair crashing down, this time on top of the referee's head. DeMarcus tosses the deformed and useless chair away, then stomps at the downed referee a few times, earning himself a chorus of boos. A swarm of security personnel charge the ring, trying to pull Jordan away, but the first one to enter the ring receives The Number One for his troubles, and rolls out under the ropes, cradling a broken nose. The rest of the security detail manage to restrain DeMarcus and pull him out of the ring, then force him up the ramp and to the back.
Christopher Morell: Now, if he'd done that sort of thing during the match, he might have had better luck.
Michael Stelzner: I don't see this ending well for DeMarcus Jordan. He's looking at a fine for sure, and probably a suspension, too.
|
|
|
|
Post by Spencer Adams on Jun 5, 2016 23:38:43 GMT -6
Mr. Wright vs. Aaron Miles
"I Am the Fire" by Halestorm hits, and Taylor Wright enters wearing his leather coat and gold chain. He raises his hands around and spins in a circle accepting the ‘embrace’ of the fans. He makes his way to the ring and waits for the match to start.
Christopher Morell: Simple. Short. I like it. Best entrance of the night.
Michael Stelzner: Were you not just complaining about how few people put thought into their entrances?
Christopher Morell: Yeah, but this was intentionally minimalistic, and tastefully done. I give it eight and a half out of five stars.
All of the lights in the arena drop as a fantastically awesome laser light show begins, dazzling the crowd. A fog machine kicks in filling the stage and ramp as "I Am The Cool" kicks in over the PA System. "The Epitome Of Cool" Aaron Miles then walks out onto the stage and pauses at the top of the ramp. He lowers his shades as he looks around at the crowd with a bit of a cocky smirk on his face and then he pushes them back up over his eyes. He then unties the robe and seductively, for the benefit of the ladies in attendance, opens it up to reveal his 8 pack abs and masculine chest hair. Finally he begins the walk down the ramp as his legendary pamphlets begin to fall from the rafters. He then slides in under the bottom rope and gives the mat a few suggestive thrusts before springing up to his feet. Miles heads for the nearest corner, where he climbs up to the second rope and gestures toward his abs and the large bulge in his trunks, wetting the panties of all the ladies in the crowd. Finally he hops down to the mat and stretches in the corner as he waits for the match to start.
(DING! DING! DING!)
Wright charges at Miles before the bell even stops ringing, and crushes the smaller man in his own corner. Taylor throws a quick barrage of forearms, then breaks contact before the ref gets involved. But only for the space of a single breath, as Wright hits Aaron with a knife-edge chop, then lays into him with a series of shoulder thrusts to the gut. Taylor backs off again, knowing just how far he can push things before the official can get involved, and Miles slumps to a seat in the corner. Wright doesn't give him any longer than that to recuperate, though, and goes right back on the attack with a vicious set of stomps to Aaron's chest. Taylor spots the referee coming his way and relents his assault, backing up a few steps with his hands raised. With a predatory grin, Wright sprints back across the ring, and gets turned inside out when the Epitome of Cool explodes up and out of the corner with a wild lariat.
Michael Stelzner: Oh! Fucking mollywhopped him there!
Justin Chambers: Hell yeah; Aaron Miles caught Taylor out of nowhere with that clothesline!
Michael Stelzner: Lariat, actually.
Christopher Morell: Not like there's a difference.
Michael Stelzner: Yes, there is; there's no swing to a clothesline, you just keep your arm stiff. That was a lariat.
Miles pulls himself hand over hand toward the ropes, while Taylor sits up slowly, and rubs at the back of his head. Aaron drags himself up to the middle rope when his vision clears enough for him to spot the buxom blonde in the third row making eyes at him; her ample cleavage nearly spilling out of her buttoned up white shirt. The Epitome of Cool pulls himself all the way up to his feet with an eager expression on his face, while Wright comes up from behind with a double axe handle to the back of the neck. Miles goes spilling through the ropes and tumbles to the floor, with Taylor following along close behind. Aaron gets back to his feet under his own power, and starts to fight off Wright. Miles even manages to gain the upper hand, and Irish whips Taylor into the steel ring steps. Instead of capitalizing, or breaking the referee's ten count, Aaron turns to the buxom blonde with a smile, and begins chatting her up.
Christopher Morell: Hey! Pick up broads on your own time! You've got a match to compete it, you dumb fuck!
Michael Stelzner: While I wouldn't phrase it like that, I do agree with the spirit of the statement.
Justin Chambers: Yeah, but, dat rack, doe.
The woman in the white shirt beings making all sorts of overt advances toward Miles, and his eager grin spreads until it splits his face from ear to ear. Wright tries to bring Aaron's attention back to the sort of action his mind should be on with a stiff kick to the ribs that drives the wind from Miles' lungs. Taylor throws a right hand, but the follow up right is blocked, and Aaron fires back a right of his own. The Epitome of Cool buries a kick in Wright's midsection, then grabs him by the back of the head, and drives Taylor's face into the ring apron. Miles slams Wright's face into the mat again, then pulls him along the apron to ram Taylor's head into the ringpost. Aaron then turns back to the blonde once more, with an expression that reads "where were we?". The woman begins to unbutton her shirt, beckoning Miles closer as she does so, and puts on a seductive face. Aaron leers at her so hard it's a wonder his eyeballs don't fall out of his head as he leans on the barricade.
(DING! DING! DING!)
Christopher Morell: Oh, a count out victory! How exciting! I remember wishing more matches would end like this when I was a kid!
Michael Stelzner: That sarcasm is so thick, Bobby Cairo wants to team with it.
Miles glances back at the ring in surprise, realizes he's been counted out, then shrugs, and turns back to the lady with the huge chest. The smile freezes on his face, though, when she puts on an expression of mock apology, and flings open her white shirt to reveal a black tank top underneath that reads #TeamWrightStuff. She then gives Aaron a little wave, and walks away into the crowd. Miles turns back to the ring, where Wright is standing in celebration. Taylor catches sight of his dejected opponent, and taps at the side of his head.
Christopher Morell: Absolutely brilliant! The blonde was a plant the whole time!
Michael Stelzner: There is a certain genius to the strategy, I will admit, but it almost seems a dirty move.
Justin Chambers: Hey man, he simply played his opponent's weakness against him. Aaron Miles is the one who decided not to get back in the ring when he had the chance.
Michael Stelzner: True enough, true enough.
|
|
|
|
Post by Spencer Adams on Jun 5, 2016 23:39:49 GMT -6
NvL vs. Kyle Cameron
DING DING DING!
Michael Stelzner: And we are back here with both men in the ring, ready to kick things off!
Cameron paces around NvL, trying his best to avoid his opponent as he tries to form some sort of on the fly strategy against the stronger foe.
Justin Chambers: Oooh! Right into that red right hand!
Christopher Morrell: Just right in the damn face. Bah gawd!
NvL lifts Cameron above his head with a military press before dropping him face first onto the turnbuckle post.
Michael Stelzner: Another big shot against Kyle Cameron here as NvL goes for the pin.
1!
2!
KICKOUT!
Kyle Cameron rolls under the bottom rope as NvL looks out a bit frustrated. He turns to argue with the ref for a moment as Cameron manages to pull his opponents’ face down against the rope which causes NvL to drop down to the mat.
Justin Chambers: Bit of a surprise there for NvL!
Christopher Morrell: I don’t think Cameron expected to get that shot in either!
Michael Stelzner: Clearly not.
Cameron quickly slides into the ring and goes for a cover.
1!
KICKOUT!
Justin Chambers: NvL just throwing his opponent off of him like he’s nothing!
Michael Stelzner: I mean, it’s Kyle Cameron sooo..
Christopher Morrell: I wouldn’t underestimate that squirrely little bastard if I were you. Doesn’t look like much, but he has a few unusual tricks up his sleeve.
NvL and Cameron come face to face once again as the two scramble to their feet. Cameron looks on in fear before rushing forward and delivering a series of terrible looking strikes to the midsection of his opponent which are easily brushed off as he is shoved backwards. Cameron’s eyes widen as he stumbles back into the corner.
Michael Stelzner: Kyle Cameron charging in once again!
Justin Chambers: Big Boot from NvL!
Christopher Morrell: No! Kyle Cameron ducks it and snags the leg for a quick roll up!
1!
2!
KICKOUT!
Michael Stelzner: There’s that element of surprise again, but it just doesn’t look to be enough thus far in his attempts to put away the menacing NvL!
NvL attempts to rise to his feet and is met with a sloppy dropkick in what is another desperate move from Kyle Cameron.
Justin Chambers: Going for the pin again!
1!
2!
KICKOUT!
Michael Stelzner: I don’t think Cameron likes being in there with NvL at all! He’s looking for anything he can to just try to get this match over with!
As the audience boos, Kyle Cameron looks around before spotting the top rope. He quickly rushes his way to the top and turns around to face the crowd.
Justin Chambers: What is Cameron doing here?!
Christopher Morrell: Looks like a terrible fucking idea!
Michael Stelzner: Cameron going for a moonsault!
Justin Chambers: But NvL catches him!
Christopher Morrell: Straight Jacket Drop!
Michael Stelzner: And the cover!
1!
2!
3!
|
|
|
|
Post by Spencer Adams on Jun 5, 2016 23:40:56 GMT -6
Dustin Beaver vs. Aurora
Michael Stelzner: And we are back!
Christopher Morrell: Beaver to Belly!
1!
2!
3!
Beaver leaps in the air in celebration as the bell rings.
Justin Chambers: and Dustin Beaver picking up his first win here in UCI!
|
|
|
|
Post by Spencer Adams on Jun 5, 2016 23:41:31 GMT -6
Kyle Kemp vs. Occulo
Heston Meeks: The following is a UCI Television Championship Contendership Match scheduled for one fall, introducing first...
Destruction by Bruce Faulconer hits the speakers as the lights go out. We see the Single Butt symbol on the minitron (red with a black background) as a faint white spotlight glows at the centre of the stage. In the spotlight is Occulo who is bowing with his hands together. He looks to the sky and the lights flash on all at once. He then makes his way to the ring high-fiving fans and slides into the ring ready for combat.
Kemp wastes no time. No music. No entrance; he's just out here to fight as he slides into the ring from the crowd and delivers hard rights as the bell rings!
Christopher Morrell: That's how you start a match, no messin' about mate!
Collar an elbow tie up as Occulo lowers his centre of gravity for a fireman's carry attempt, Kemp with knee strikes to power out but Occulo resists and makes the lift, move flows into a fujiwara armbar on the apex as Occulo looks to lock that in. Kemp kicks out and rolls to his feet as Occulo charges forward with a clothesline. Kemp ducks and delivers a neck breaker as Occulo rebounded off the ropes with a swinging lariat attempt. Quick cover by Kemp gets a one and no more as Occulo powers out.
Christopher Morrell: Occulo's such an idiot for trying that, I hear on good authority that he speaks in comic sans. No joke mate.
Michael Stelzner: Occulo's been impressive so far here in UCI: the training he's received recently from Master Itami is really starting to pay off.
Justin Chambers: Chris with his obligatory dump on Occulo. Meh to you sir!
Christopher Morrell: “Master Itami”, where's Raphael and Leonardo when you need them?
Kemp climbs the turnbuckle for a drop-kick attempt; Occulo up as he sidesteps the attack, hitting a wicked backbreaker as Kemp's spine cracks across the knee of “The Single Butt”
Michael Stelzner: Amazing counter by Occulo here as Kemp looks to be in serious pain.
Kemp clutches his back as Occulo wastes no time, swooping in for a quick roll up. One...two..KICKOUT! Kemp punches the mat in frustration, trying to shake off the pain.
Michael Stelzner: Kemp wants this shot at the Television title BAD; he sees it as his destiny to face Updegraff next week!
Christopher Morrell: Kemp da Bess!
Occulo with an Irish whip as Kemp counters and hits a springboard lariat that connects outta nowhere! Kemp with mounted punches now as he uses his back trauma to fuel a savage comeback; lefts and rights to the now swollen face of Occulo as Kemp SCREAMS with rage!
Michael Stelzner: Kemp digging in deep here!
Occulo covers up and waits for an opening before going for that armbar again; Kemp with elbow strikes to the face of the single butt who now has a nasty cut above his left eye. Kemp looks to exploit this with a thumb gouge that the ref doesn't catch. A blinded Occulo relents his grip as Kemp wraps his arms around the waist of Occulo and hits a German Suplex! Kemp up top again as he looks for an elbow drop. Occulo staggering to his feet as Kemp leaps!
Justin Chambers: Occulo with a flapjack counter! Kemp's throat just bounced off the top rope! This has got to be over!
Kemp rolls around now on the floor in agony as Occulo moves in for the kill. The Single Butt signals for the “Oesophagus Bureau” as Kemp staggers to his feet. Occulo throws that sharp elbow strike to begin the sequence but Kemp was playing possum!
Kemp with a sudden burst of energy as Occulo is caught off guard! Kemp counters the elbow with an inverted atomic drop, follows that with lefts and rights as Occulo is reeling, blood pouring now from that cut to the eye. Hot shot guillotines Occulo as Kemp hits a backbreaker of his own as he goes in for the quick cover. One...two...
Kickout by Occulo! Kemp wastes no time, lifting Occulo to his feet and signalling for a piledriver; Occulo again drops his centre of gravity and hits a dragon whip on Kemp. Eye poke by Kemp who's back up and charging, clothesline by Kemp is ducked as Occulo hits a standing drop kick that sends Kemp to the mat hard. Occulo with knee strikes to the face of Kemp who covers up; counters with another eye gouge that sees Occulo stagger backwards, once again the ref doesn't see it as the crowd boos Kemp.
Kemp smirks as Occulo tries to wipe the blood from his eye with his sky blue top to clear his vision. The ref checking on Occulo now as Kemp leans against the ropes, waiting for an opening. Occulo nods that he wants to continue as Kemp sees his opportunity and charges forward, the ref moving out of the way as Kemp leaps, hitting a sweet forearm smash to the inadvertently blindsided Occulo.
Michael Stelzner: The ref blocked Occulo's field of vision as Kemp went in for the kill!
Occulo is down as a swaggering Kemp signals for the “Back to the minors”, Kemp charges forward as--
The Punt...CONNECTS!
ONE...TWO....
THREE!
Heston Meeks: Your winner, and NEWWWWWW number one Contender for the Television Title, KYLE KEMP!
Kemp's hand is raised in victory as he clutches his back. Battered. Bruised. But triumphant.
|
|
|
|
Post by Spencer Adams on Jun 5, 2016 23:42:07 GMT -6
Andre Holmes segment
After commercial, the show returns to the backstage area of a medical office where a certified doctor for UCI is currently looking at Andre Holmes all prepared in his ring attire to go out to face Thursday Kerrigan. He's sitting on top of the bed with the doctors moving his right leg, all bandaged up, in different directions for any pain. By the look of his own face, you can tell Andre is still dealing with the harsh damages committed by Erin Fausse who cost him the World Title after using a steel chair to bash it on the top of his forehead.
Doctor: Lie Down.
He shifted his body fully on the bed, and leaned back while the doctor pushed his leg up.
Andre Holmes: Ow!
Doctor: Okay. You're good to compete in your next match but I advise watching your right leg. Don't put too much weight on it, and try to avoid any more damage. You're already suffering pain from the back of your knee, and on your thigh now.
Andre Holmes: Can you put something on it? A knee brace?
Doctor: A knee brace might help but I'll also send in my intern to put some ointment on it. Be right back.
Andre Holmes: Okay thank you.
The camera showed more of Andre's expression as he leaned back with his head on the pillow. He rolled his eyes, and closed them when he heard someone coming through the door. The intern started rubbing the ointment, and she spoke.
Erin Fausse: Hello Andre.
Knowing that voice, he immediately sat up, and saw Erin dressed too for her match with a smile. She was rubbing the ointment on his right leg, and Andre growled.
Andre Holmes: You!
Erin Fausse: Yes, me. C'mon, use your words. Don't have an aneurysm.
Andre Holmes: You cost me the World Title.
Erin Fausse: I cost you? Oh, don't take it so personal! All I did was beat ya.
Andre Holmes: By using a chair, and putting the referee? That's not fair, that's not how you compete.
Erin Fausse: That was your first mistake. The chair bashing you in the skull? That wasn't competition. I don't give a shit about your arbitrary pieces of etiquette. That was a warning shot. A wake up call, if you will. No, even that's a bit light. It was me prying your eyelids open and forcing you to see your sins.
Andre Holmes: Don't give me that bullshit. You're only using that as an excuse.
Erin Fausse: And what about you? You think you're fooling anyone? You think because you jump around, maintain the facade of a hero, you have the right to sit in judgment over anyone? Puh-lease. I'm trying to help you before you bring yourself, and your family into a situation you can't save them from.
Andre Holmes: WHAT?!
Andre fired up when she mentioned his family, and tried to get up off the bed to knock her out but Erin held her hand tightly on his kneecap, and added pressure to the damaged muscle. He leaned back on the pillow groaning in pain as she leaned in closer to him with a sadistic smirk.
Erin Fausse: You want to hurt me, don't you? Oh, of course you do. I can see it in your eyes. You think you're the first? This ain't my first rodeo; I've heard it all before from people much more intimidating than you, but everyone who meets God, they all surrender. You're a mess of anger and insecurity. You drove a woman to suicide. You murdered a man in the ring and here you are trying desperately to rewrite history so you can convince yourself that I'm the worst person in this room. That isn't going to fix you though. Lying to yourself won't make you whole. Only by the right hand of God, you will be cleansed. You need help, you need God more than anyone in this company, and I will do everything in my power to bring you to him because...
She leans into his right ear, and whispers as she did in her defeat.
Erin Fausse: God forgives.
|
|
|
|
Post by Spencer Adams on Jun 5, 2016 23:42:52 GMT -6
Andre Holmes vs. Thursday Kerrigan
Live from The Warehouse in Chicago, Illinois. We have yet another match ahead of us with two great competitors who have captured the attention of the UCI fanbase. Thursday Kerrigan, and Andre Holmes. The ring is brightened with Heston Meeks definitely standing in the ring dressed in his signature white tuxedo as he smiles. Overload is now being on Youtube but also being featured on the local Chicago television networks.
Justin Chambers: Ladies, and gentlemen. Welcome back to UCI Overload where we have a match with a lot of history behind it. Andre Holmes facing Thursday Kerrigan. Thursday who has been on roll with Diavolo for the team Stiletto wants to gain a clear victory over Andre Holmes while Andre is looking for redemption after his loss against Erin Fausse.
Joseph Malignaggi: You mean Andre who bitched because he got out played, and now he’s blaming Erin for cheating? What a bitch. This is wrestling, a win's a win.
Ding Ding Ding!
Heston Meeks: Ladies, and gentlemen! This match is scheduled for onefall!
“Wolves” by Kanye West featuring Vic Mensa, and Sia is the first entrance music that signals every light to be turned off; Leaving the entire Warehouse in darkness. A spotlight is shown on the stage where Thursday Kerrigan stands between the two titantrons with the diamond mask reflecting the light like a disco ball. She raises her wrists to the camera displaying the graphic insignia of the 6ix God, and #BeachKrew. Letting her fists down, she marches to the ring with a goal in mind. Defeating Andre Holmes.
Heston Meeks: Introducing first! Hailing from Hollywood, California. At five feet, five inches tall. Weighing in at 110 pounds. She is “The Six Goddess” Thursday Kerrigan!
Lights fully back on as she’s made her way to the apron. Taking off that mask, she tosses to the side as the crowd continues to boo her. She fixes her black fishnet leg stockings, and not to mention loose black sleeveless shirt. Hopping onto the apron, she swoops through the middle, and bottom rope; Quickly hops onto the middle turnbuckle to raise her arms in the air.
Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
Michael Stelzner: Her first was one to remembered as her, and Diavolo sent Burn Out to the hospital. A very vicious competitor in the ring but now it’s time to see how she will do against Andre Holmes especially with the long term rivalry.
Her entrance music fades away, and now she’s in a corner tightening her black denim shorts as the crowd is solidly against Andre Holmes is next to come out.
Crowd: ANDRE HOLMES! ANDRE HOLMES! ANDRE HOLMES!
“Relentless” by New Years Day immediately begins with the introduction of the lights shutting off, and the double titantrons revealing Andre Holmes preparing backstage with the images colored in grey. Once the song begins, he walks out on the stage wearing a knee brace with the lights flashing, and dancing in a flickering manner.
Crowd: WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
Andre Holmes walks out wearing the black hoodie over my his head with the jacket displaying the graphic of “Relentless” in dripping blood red color. He fixed the black knee brace on his right leg, and even his black tight underwear with his imprinted on the back of it. Walking down the entrance path, the lyrics “Tear Me Down, It Won’t Build You Up”, he raises up his body in a strong posture, and unleashes a primal scream. Smoke machines ignite themselves into the air behind him for a few moments until they cease.
Heston Meeks: Introducing her opponent! Hailing from Houston, Texas. At five feet, nine inches tall. Weighing in at 201 pounds. He is “Relentless” Andre Holmes!
Normally, he would run, and hop onto the apron. With the knee brace, he can’t overdo it. Andre slowly climbs up the steel steps, and walks to the steel post where he stands on the middle rope. A spotlight emerges behind him while smoke arises from under to cast a silhouette of his figure for visual effect. Slowly going into the ring, everything goes to normal with the music fading away. Jacket off, and handing it outside to the ringside crew.
Joseph Malignaggi: And here he is. Mr.Bitch. Losing to Erin Fausse just wasn’t enough huh’.
Michael Stelzner: Well after she cheated, I think anyone would have been upset.
Justin Chambers: Well the two had a great meeting where Erin told Andre that she would convert him even if it’s the last thing she’ll do. Andre wants revenge, and now she wants to bring him over to God.
Ding Ding Ding!
Lights, camera, action. Thursday, and Andre leave the corners at the same time. They circle the ring even though Andre is struggling to keep weight off his right leg, and still feeling pain especially after what happened with Erin earlier. It’s going to be an interesting bout between Andre Holmes, and Thursday Kerrigan. On paper, Thursday is way at the disadvantage yet Andre still has that right leg as a liability.
Crowd: ANDRE! ANDRE! ANDRE! ANDRE!
Thursday comes in first with her arms out, and Andre accepts when they lock up together in a collar, and elbow tie up. Using his weight, and power, he quickly barrages her into the corner, pushing her back against the turnbuckles. The referee demanded he released off her, and so he did. Backed off with his hands letting Thursday some breathing room until he tried to elbow her in the face. Thankfully, she ducked, and moved again away from him.
Justin Chambers: Very nice speed produced by Thursday Kerrigan. Always has to be alert when facing against Andre Holmes as he’s one of the most technical wrestlers in the ring.
Michael Stelzner: Agreed but the only weakness he has is that knee brace he’s wearing. It’s a walking target.
They meet up again in the center of the ring, and lock up again until Thursday kicks him right in the knee brace. He drops onto his hands, and knees on the mat, and clutches his leg. She sees an opportunity, and stars barraging him with kicks into her body.
Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
Thursday continues to kick him until she drops to her knees, and starts pummeling his head with forearms into the skull. He tries to get up but she assumes the top position, and continues going down on his forehead with multiple forearms. Rolling off of him, she gets back up in the corner where Andre is trying to get back up on his feet. Suddenly, Thursday charges into him, and places her hand behind his head to snap his face into the mat with a Bulldog.
Joseph Malignaggi: Beautiful Running Bulldog by Thursday Kerrigan. Beat Andre, he doesn’t deserve to win in UCI anymore.
Justin Chambers: Thursday controlling the pace of the match after knocking Andre down by attacking that right leg of his. She’s continuing the leftovers from Erin Fausse.
Right she is. Thursday takes the right leg of Andre, and starts kicking him in the back of the knee to continue the pain. She stretches his right leg out before dropping an elbow across the knee that makes him screams out in pain. Wrapping his right leg around her waist, she tries to twist the ankle in an attempt to submit him.
Michael Stelzner: Uh oh! Will Andre actually tap out this early? That knee brace was put on for a very good reason.
Andre is very keen on getting out of situations. She made one mistake, and that’s let her back be undefended. He quickly wraps his other leg around her, and pulls her back into a Rear Naked Choke. Locked in the center of the ring, she’s now in the bad position especially with his MMA background. Thursday is choking, and every breath is being wasted. Added weight plus the body triangle locked in means she has to get out.
Crowd: WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
So she sticks her thumb into his right eye, and he rolls off her covering it. Getting by the ropes, he quickly stands up to lean against them while Thursday is gaining her breath. Both competitors are back on their feet, and Thursday charges into him only to get a Back Spinning Kick into her own stomach. She quickly drops to her hands and knees, almost throwing up. Andre sees her down, and quickly runs to the ropes side of her. Rebounding, he gains enough velocity to Basement Dropkick her in the temple that rolls her halfway across the ring.
Crowd: OOOOOOOOH!
Joseph Malignaggi: Oh wow! Andre putting his hands on a woman. You were taught not to hit women yet you’re so good on Dropkicking a girl while she’s down.
Michael Stelzner: Oh, don’t start with that feminist crap.
Joseph Malignaggi: Misogynist over here guys!
Andre crawls on top of Thursday for the first pin attempt of the match.
One!
Tw--
Thursday kicks out, and he helps her back up to her feet. Now, he tosses her into the corner with an Irish Whip, and her back hits against the turnbuckles. Andre charges into her, and lariats his right arm across her chest knocking her down onto her ass; Seated in the corner, he runs to the opposing one. Bounced off the turnbuckles for more than enough speed to drive his left knee through her own skull.
Justin Chambers: Trapped in the Corner! One of the famous trademarked moves by Andre Holmes which is a Corner Lariat followed by a Seated Corner Knee.
Her head snaps back, and she rolls out of the ring as she drops onto the ringside mat. Andre leaves through the ropes, and takes his time to the outside. He follows her as she crawls to the steel steps. Taking the back of her head, he smashes her face on top of the steel structure.
Crowd: OOOOOOOOH!
They call him Relentless for nothing as he pulls her up onto the apron for something he hasn’t done in a while. Placing her head in between her thighs, Andre pulls his arms around her waist to hoist her up in a Piledriver position until Thursday fights back enough to break the hold. In fact, she drops off the apron, and sweeps the right leg to slap his back on the apron edge.
Justin Chambers: And Andre lands onto the apron, the hardest part of the ring!
She’s not done. That right leg is in her grasp where she lifts it up to smash it against the apron edge. Andre sits up, and holds his leg as he can only scream out in pain. He rolls back into the center of the ring, and Thursday follows him for her first pin attempt of the match.
One!
Two!
He kicks out with his left leg, and Thursday helps him back up to his feet again. She pummels the side of his face with a few elbows that temporarily stops him until trying to throw him in an unoccupied corner. Andre spins around, and launches her into the same corner again. Her back slams against the turnbuckles, and she manages to leap up to kick her boots into the face of Andre to push him back.
Christopher Malignaggi: Lighting doesn’t strike twice Andre. Gotta be smarter than that especially how Erin did you last week.
Michael Stelzner: Now she’s climbing onto the top rope, and wait a minute!
Andre quickly sprints back into the corner, and hops onto the middle turnbuckle. Thursday elbows him into the face that forces him down until he drops to his feet. Turning his back to her, he leaps backwards into the air to Pele Kick on the face leaving her stunned on the top turnbuckle.
Crowd: OOOOOOH!
Justin Chambers: OH! Pele Kick by Andre Holmes, and Thursday Kerrigan is on the top rope completely rocked by the left boot of her opponent, Andre Holmes.
He slowly climbs up onto the middle rope, and places her head under his armpit. Hooking her right arm over her neck, they both stand on the top holding onto each other. Andre leaps backwards off the top rope with her, and drops back their backs in the center of the ring with a Superplex. Off the momentum, he rolls backwards over Thursday’s body back into that same suplex position only to lift her up before dropping her down on her head with a Brainbuster combo!
Crowd: WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! ANDRE! ANDRE! ANDRE! ANDRE!
Michael Stelzner: SUPERPLEX INTO A BRAINBUSTER! She’s out! Go for the pin Andre!
It takes him a while to climb on top of Thursday. That combination really put a lot of pressure onto his right leg. However, he managed to crawl on top of her, and hook the right leg for the pin.
One!
Two!
She kicked out at the last second, and both competitors are down on the mat. Andre’s leg is really starting affect his performance, and Thursday is still rocked from the Brainbuster. Understanding what he has to do, he fights again by getting back up on his own feet. While Thursday is standing on her knees, he moves to her right side, and unloads with left Roundhouse kicks into her chest.
Crowd: YES! YES! YES! YES!
Thursday is getting barraged with the kicks into her own chest until he backs off. He spins on one leg before kicking his left leg into her skull with a vicious Tornado Kick that knocks her over onto the mat, and rolled her into an unoccupied corner.
Joseph Malignaggi: JESUS CHRIST ANDRE!
Seeing her in the corner, he backs up to the opposing one. Both hands held on each side of the top rope. Andre was gearing up, and Thursday held onto the top rope with both hands in her corner to pull her up as she stood on wobbly knees. Booya. He took off into her own presence, and Yakuza Kicked her in the skull. Her head snapped back, and then her body fell to the mat as a ragdoll.
Michael Stelzner: YAKUZA KICK! YAKUZA KICK!
Andre starts climbing onto the top rope, and once he’s on it, he leaps backwards corkscrewing into a 450 flip to splash her onto her own ribs.
Justin Chambers: DEADLINE TRAP! THE DEADLINE TRAP! HE’S GOT THE PIN!
One!
Two!
Three-NO!
Thursday managed to lift a shoulder just before the hand went down. Andre sat up completely unsure of what the hell actually happened. However, he needed to end this quickly as possible. He rolled off the mat, and gave her some distance. It took her a while but she snapped back into reality. The moment she stood on her knees, Andre sidestepped, and tried to Superkick with the left leg. Thursday managed to duck under the kick.
Justin Chambers: HE MISSED THE THRUST KICK! SHE MANAGED TO DUCK UNDER THE LEFT LEG!
Thursday quickly hops onto the back of Andre Holmes, and wraps her legs around the neck of him to flip backwards onto his neck with a Reverse Frankensteiner. He lands on the back of his head, and Andre is completely down. He’s rocked as he can barely stand up on his hands, and knees. Thursday runs to him, and places her foot on the back of his head to Curbstomp his face into the canvas.
Joseph Malignaggi: CURBSTOMP! CURBSTOMP! OH HELL YEAH! ANDRE’S GONNA LOSE AGAIN! COME ON THURSDAY!
She goes for the pin attempt again.
One!
Two!
Three-NO!
He kicks out of the pin, and Thursday is almost ripping the blonde hair from her scalp. It’s time for her to put this to an end too. She quickly pulls him up onto his feet before Roundhouse kicking that knee brace that drops him down onto the mat on his left knee. She runs to the ropes, and rebounds to leap into the air, and wrap his legs around his neck to hold onto his waist as well. Flipping him over, she spikes his head on the mat with the Dolphin Driver!
Justin Chambers: DOLPHIN DRIVER! ANDRE IS OUT! HERE’S THE PIN!
One!
Two!
Three!
Ding Ding Ding!
Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
Heston Meeks: Here is your winner, Thursday Kerrigan!
Thursday gets off the defeated Andre, and quickly rises onto her feet. She hops up and down fucking happy she managed to put him down for Jared.
Michael Stelzner: Well. Two losses in a row is going to be tough but Andre shouldn’t be ashamed. What really should his focus is Erin Fausse because he needs to beat her in order to get his focus back. We’ll be back after these messages.
|
|
|
|
Post by Spencer Adams on Jun 5, 2016 23:43:26 GMT -6
Bonnie Blue/Polar Phantasm vs. Teddy Sol/Andre Jenson
As Overload returns from commercial, we see the match toward it's end.
Justin Chambers: Bonnie with the small package on Sol here!
1!
2!
3!
Michael Stelzner: and that's all she wrote!
|
|
|
|
Post by Spencer Adams on Jun 5, 2016 23:44:12 GMT -6
Wade Moor vs. Alex Richards
The lights in the arena dim as the opening to “21st Century Schizoid Man” by King Crimson starts playing over the P.A. Wade Moor slips out from behind the curtain and lumbers out onto the stage. He stares out to the hot crowd, eyes always scanning, never relenting. A smile creeps up the side of his face, blaring with deep blue strobe lights, as he starts his way down the ramp.
Heston Meeksl: Making his way to the ring from The Everglades, standing at 6' 2'' and weighing 280 lbs….WAAAADE BROSEIDON MMMOOOOOORRRRRRR!!!!!
Wade puts his hand on the apron, slides in the ring lightning quick, and slithers towards the center of the ring. He hikes up on one knee and holds his hand out to his sides and yells to the crowd.
“UNLEASH THE LEVIATHAN!!!”
He removes his straw hat and places it on the turnbuckle. He starts stretching out the ropes as he awaits the start of the match. He walks over to Heston and grabs the mic away from him.
Wade Moor: Alex Richards.. you haven't won since you got here. You talk too much. You bore me. I didn't bother saying a word to you because I didn't need to. My actions will speak louder.
Christopher Morrell: See! I knew Wade was sharp! He's gonna show that fuccin drunk Richards what for!
The opening guitar solo to I'm Not Like Everybody Else by the Kinks plays then Alex Richards steps through the curtain, his doctor's bag in one hand, a boot filled to the bim with Zim-Quila in the other. He chugs his drink then tosses the boot into the crowd before walking towards the ring a serious look on his face with a hint of a smile making it seem like he's probably putting it on, which he is. On the way to the ring he delivers his trademark hard high fives to the fans. At least those brave enough to want them. He wanders around ringside talking to fans for a few minutes killing time before finally entering the ring.
Where he is immediately stomped by Wade as soon as he rolls into the ring. Then stomped again! Then some more.
Michael Stelzner: Alex was talking about the grudge he had against Wade this week. It looks like he should have kept his mouth shut and not tipped off Wade because look what he's doing to him!
Wade picks up Alex like he's a child in an overhead press slam and tosses him over the top rope right through the press table before the match has even began.
Christopher Morrell: Fuck that shit! They don't pay us enough to deal with this! C'mon guys.. unsafe working conditions!
Justin Chambers: This means we're going to smoke a joint right?
The announcers leave as Wade Moor looks at the referee threatening him into ringing the opening bell. The referee relunctantly counts Alex out on the floor. Alex is on his hands and knees looking a little dazed as the count reaches five.. Alex crawls towards the ring and drags himself onto the ring apron. But Wade slams his head off of the canvas several times before dragging Alex onto the ring apron and snapping his neck on the top rope then slingshotting him back into the ring. Wade makes a cover.
1...
count only!
Wade drags Alex up and tosses him into the corner where he starts to unload with a series of very watery uppercuts! This fires Alex up however and he comes back with a series of eye rakes then attempts to fish hook Wade but placing his fingers in the aggressive Godnilla's mouth proves to be a big idea as Wade bites down to break the hold then nails a knee to the gut.. and a second knee which was probably low and drops Alex. Wade mounts Alex and begins to light him up with elbow after elbow drawing blood on the super heavyweight brawler.
Referee: Had enough, Richards?
Alex shakes his head as Wade gets up and starts stomp the throat of Alex. Alex attempts to push him off and get to his feet but Wade simply waits for him to get up and executes a hard spinebuster! He makes the pin attempt.
1...
2..
Alex raises his shoulder and grabs Wade around the throat! He begins to choke the life out of godnilla. The referee begins to count the illegal hold but at the count of four Alex releases then begins to choke again! This draws a cheer from the Chicago crowd who both like the rough stuff and the fact Alex is a native son. Alex gets to his feet still holding Wade by the throat and lifts him up executing a choke slam over the top rope to the arena floor! Alex rolls out of the ring intend on doing damage. He lifts up Wade and nails him with a one handed backbreaker down on the floor! He then kicks aside the mats on the floor exposing the cement and brutally curb stomps Wade face first into the floor.. then does it again! Alex rolls back into the ring to break the count as the referee gives him Hell.
Alex Richards: I'm telling ya ref. I didn't curb stomp him on the floor. It's a floor there is no curb.
The confused referee doesn't know what to say so the Archduke sews some more confusion as he rolls out to the floor seemingly set to finish off the stunned looking Wade Moor. He lifts Wade up going for a powerbomb.. but the crafty Moor grabs onto a fan in the front row dragging him over the railing and forcing Alex to release the hold. Alex checks on the fan who gives him a thumbs up but this allows Wade to nail a discus clothesline down on the arena floor! He then picks Alex up for a scoop slam and drops him right on the ring steps before rolling him back in and making a cover with one hand while taunting Alex.
1...
2...
kick out from Richards!
Wade rolls Alex onto his stomach and punches him several times in the small of the back before dropping a headbutt to the back. Having worked Alex's back over on the ring steps he looks to take advantage locking in a camel clutch. At the same time hitting Alex with a series of cross faces to the jaw of the big man. The official asks Alex if he wants to quit but he shakes his head and manages to fight his way to his feet lifting up Wade with him and crushing him in the corner! Alex staggers out of the corner holding his back as Wade, seemingly less hurt tries to take advantage with a clothesline but Alex ducks then lifts up Wade nailing him with a hot shot on the top rope then an STO to the sea brawler!
Alex Richards: That's all you got? C'mon Wade you want to be a killer right?
Alex press slams Wade overhead dropping him down hard with a gut buster! He leaves Wade laying on the mat before executing the garvin stomp up and down the entire body of Wade Moor with the last few stomps targeting Wade's skull. Alex waits as Wade painfully pulls himself to his feet only to eat a superkick! Alex makes a pin try.
1..
2..
Wade still has plenty left!
Alex holds his hand up playing to the crowd a little as Wade staggers towards him right into the Spiked Samoan punch! Leaving Wade convulsing on the mat in some serious pain. Alex looks like he wants to finish things up grabbing Wade by the throat for the Zim-Quila Hangover only to have Wade counter it out of nowhere with the float over DDT! Alex quickly pulls him back to his feet but Wade connects with a big boot knocking Alex into the ropes. He rebounds right into the urange! Wade bounces off of the ropes gaining momentum for a big splash!
1...
2..
kick out from Richards!
Wade would then drop a series of elbows yelling at Alex about how pathetic he is the whole time. Alex looks furious and drags himself to his feet looking for a fight but Wade leg sweeps him back down then soccer kicks him in the chops. Alex seemingly goes limp as Wade looks satisfied. He pulls Alex back to his feet and screams out “Unleash The Leviathan”! He positions Alex for the package piledriver only to have the Archduke turn the tables drilling Wade with a vicious death valley driver! Leaving both men trying to recover on the mat. The referee begins his count.
1...
2..
3...
4..
5...
6..
Wade gets to his feet holding his head..
7...
8..
Alex stumbles up also holding his head...
Wade rushes him trying for the crossbody but Alex catches him in mid move spiking Moor with the t bone suplex! Wade gets up and walks into a belly to belly suplex! Wade gets up more slowly this time and Alex positions him for the release german suplex planting him hard into the corner! He delivers several hard kicks to the unprotected face and body of Moor before dragging him to his feet and carrying him as he ascended the ropes for the Sanity Slip.. which never comes... as Wade connects with the Broseidon Punch. He didn't get all of the superman punch but he still knocks Alex off of the top rope onto the floor. Wade shakes his head several times trying to recover and notices Alex down on the floor motionless. He hits the ropes and connects with the suicide dive onto the downed Richards!
Wade gets up and shakes his head taunting the fans. He drags the heavy ring steps away from the ring post then lifts Alex up... going for a brainbuster suplex on the steps.. however this proves to be his downfall as Alex first blocks, then grabs him around the throat drilling him with the Final Enlightenment onto the ring steps! The crowd explodes into cheers as Alex first rolls back in breaking the official's count then back out tossing Wade back into the ring and making a quick cover.
1...
2...
and three quarters!
Alex looks surprised at the toughness of Wade Moor however he once again drags him to the top rope.. once again going for the Sanity Slip... but this time he connects with the top rope powerbomb lung blower! He makes the cover.
1...
2..
3!
Heston Meeks: Your winner of the match... “The Archduke of Mass Confusion” Alex Richards!
Michael Stelzner: I might just be in a good mood because we got a break but I'll be damned if those guys didn't go to war there!
Christopher Morrell: Those two superheavyweights fought like they both needed the win and they both wanted to take the other one out. And in the end Alex Richards used the ring steps, and two of his biggest moves to finally put down Wade Moor.
|
|
|
|
Post by Spencer Adams on Jun 5, 2016 23:45:02 GMT -6
Crow McMorris vs. Erin Fausse
As the camera cuts back to the middle of the Warehouse, the time keeper rings the bell.
Michael Stelzner: Welcome back, folks! Winner of the next match moves onto the finals for the UCI Championship at Lazarus!
Christopher Morrell: And with a semi-final like this, you wonder why numbers dropped last week.
The house lights slowly die as a single spotlight hits the curtains and the first few gentle notes of “Ave Maria” glide from the PA before landing delicately upon a chorus of boos from the gathered audience.
Heston Meeks: The following contest is scheduled for one fall! Making her way to the ring, from Oskaloosa, Iowa – weighing one hundred, thirty-five pounds – Erin Fausse!
The curtain parts as Erin Fauss steps out into the spotlight, smiling shyly while the vocals begin. The open derision of the audience, however, soon wipes the shy smile off of her face, replacing it with a perturbed look as she slowly steps down the aisle towards the ring.
Christopher Morrell: I’d hit it.
Justin Chambers: Rebecca would take your balls.
Christopher Morrell: She already did that a long time ago.
She narrowly ducks a thrown can of beer as the vocals of the music peak, quietly recomposing herself as two large bouncers shove through the crowd to restrain the hostile member and drag him forcibly from the building.
Michael Stelzner: And not the friendliest reception here.
Christopher Morrell: Do you think these virgins know how to react to a woman?
Upon coming to the foot of the ring, she makes her way to the steps and ascends them before ducking under the ropes. The jeers continue to rain down before the spotlight dims and the sound of squawking crows preludes the opening notes of “Another Body Murdered” by Faith No More. The crowd roars as the opening chugged guitars and vocals begin, a purple spotlight hitting the curtain as a whirlwind of quick cut images hit the many televisions strung up around the arena: Kick! Wham! Cuttah!
Heston Meeks: And her opponent, weighing in at two hundred, thirty-six pounds and back from the dead! He is “Da Murdah Masheen” – Crow McMorris!
As the Murdah Masheen steps through the curtain, the cheers become deafening. Within the smoke of the curtain, the silhouette of Scarecrow cuts through the purple light as he adjusts the tape on his wrists. Stepping out of the smoke, Scarecrow keeps his hood low as he makes his way down the aisle.
Christopher Morrell: I wish he stayed dead.
Michael Stelzner: You know, from a literary perspective, it was really wonderful when Crow died. I mean, who expected that, yeah? I get it, life affects McMorrises differently, but it was still kind of exciting when it happened.
Christopher Morrell: Shut up.
Justin Chambers: I mean, I marked the fuck out.
At the foot of the ring, Scarecrow slowly paces under the spotlight, his eyes locked on Fauss. A confident smile later, he slides into the ring, climbs the ring post, and throws his hood back. Tearing off his bandana, he tosses it into the crowd before spreading his arms and lowering his head, the crowd screaming wildly. As the music dims and the crowd settles, Crow drops down and pulls off his hoodie, tossing it into the crowd. He leans back on the ring post, regarding Erin wrly as the bell rings to begin the match.
DING! DING! DING!
Pushing himself up, Scarecrow slowly stalks towards Fauss who eyes him fearfully. Hesitantly stepping forward, the two lock up before the imposing strength of Scarecrow allows him to pull her into a headlock. From the headlock, he flips her over his hip and onto the ground, wrenching hard on her neck before letting go and rising to his feet.
Michael Stelzner: Silky smooth takedown from Crow! That martial arts background already in play here with a judo flip.
She’s quick to get to her own, rubbing her neck for a moment as she takes a step back.
Justin Chambers: I can’t imagine a dead guy smells good.
Christopher Morrell: And her head was in his armpit. Imagine that.
Erin backs herself into the corner, Scarecrow in close pursuit. He descends a little too quickly, perhaps his own killer instinct getting the best of him, and Erin is able to kick a leg up for Crow to run into. He stumbles back, stunned but unfazed as Erin pulls herself onto the second rope. She leaps at him for a crossbody, but he catches her handily and power slams her back to the matt. The crowd roars as Scarecrow raises his arms, his eyes locked intently on Erin. She responds by sliding out of the ring.
Christopher Morrell: And right there – as she was vertical – her face was level with his crotch. Imagine the smell of that.
Justin Chambers: Bro. No.
Scarecrow follows, a hand reaching out to grasp her on the shoulder. She spins, nailing him with a clawed strike to the face. It’s enough to catch him off guard as she grabs his arm and whips him into the barricade, his massive frame causing it to teeter by remain upright by the mass of bodies behind it.
Christopher Morrell: And now Crow knows what my love life is like.
Michael Stelzner: And mine. But mine probably more metaphorically than yours.
As he’s down, Erin runs at him and delivers a dropkick to his head. Capitalizing on his disorientation, Erin rolls into the ring and screams at the ref to begin counting.
Ref: 1! 2! 3! 4!
It was an unexpected blow that Crow took, but far from a crippling one. He pushes himself to his feet and runs into the ring, sliding in. Erin is waiting for him – running full-tilt, she nails him with a baseball slide to roll the vulnerable Scarecrow onto his back. She leaps on him for the cover!
Ref: 1!
Scarecrow shoves her off with ease.
Michael Stelzner: Barely a one count there.
The two climb to their feet simultaneously, and Erin throws a chop Crow’s way. He steps back from the impact before responding with a chop of his own, Erin taking more than a few steps back. Crow delivers a second chop, sending Erin back against the ropes. Crow advances, his arm out to clothesline her over the rope, but Erin ducks and nails Crow with a chop block. Crow falls to a knee, and Erin charges for a Shining Wizard. The agile Scarecrow leans back to avoid the kick, instead wrapping his hand around her ankle and driving her to the ground.
Justin Chambers: That’s some Matrix shit. Crow is now “Mister Anderson” for the rest of this match.
He locks in an ankle lock, and Erin’s hand immediately whips to the bottom rope. CrowMister Anderson obliges in releasing the hold as he takes a step back to regard his opponent.
Michael Stelzner: And Crow abso –
Justin Chambers: Bro.
Michael Stelzner: What?
Justin Chambers: What did we just agree on?
Michael Stelzner: Sorry. Mister Anderson stalking Fausse like a lion. The size and strength difference has been glaring in this match.
Erin holds her ankle tenderly, his eyes wide and face pouty as the ref checks on her. Crow walks forward in frustration, reaching out to grab her by the shirt and pull her to her feet. A snap suplex drives Fauss into the mat, and Crow floats over for the cover.
Ref: 1! 2!
Erin kicks out, and Crow leans up on his knees.
Christopher Morrell: And now Erin knows what Rebecca’s love life is like.
Running a hand through his hair, he climbs up and pulls her with him. Erin stomps down on his foot, causing him to double back and giving her enough time to run at the ropes. She springboards, tumbling back through the air as she locks Crow in and nails a reverse DDT.
Michael Stelzner: Holy shit!
Justin Chambers: And I just got that on video. I’m about to get mad karma on /r/SC for this shit.
Crow lays on the mat, staring upward as Fauss backs herself into a corner. As Crow pushes to his feet, she runs at him and blasts him with an ugly knee to the temple.
Michael Stelzner: Hand of God! Crow is absolutely out!
Falling to her knees, Erin looks down at the glazed over eyes of Scarecrow and laughs, her hands running through her hair. She smells blood in the water as she shoves up to her feet and staggers towards the ring post, pulling herself to the top turnbuckle.
Christopher Morrell: Well there could be a worse outcome than this…
IF ERIN WINS:
She looks down at Crow and leaps off, spinning in the air before landing on him with the Divine Intervention. She covers immediately.
Ref: 1! 2! 3!
The bell rings as “Ave Maria” hits the PA, and the crowd breaks into a chorus of boos. A shit-eating grin spreads across Erin’s face as tears of happiness begin to roll down her cheeks.
Heston Meeks: And your winner! Erin Fausse!
Michael Stelzner: Erin Fausse moves onto the finals at Lazarus! An absolute no-namer has clawed her way to the main event for the big prize.
Justin Chambers: Senpai.
The ref raises her arm as she waves to her “adoring audience”. The match is followed by a commercial for Kentucky Fried Chicken.
IF CROW WINS:
She looks down at Crow and leaps off, spinning in the air, and failing to notice Crow kip up. Her eyes widen as her head falls gracefully into his open arm and her drags her to the matt with the Murder of Crows!
Christopher Morrell: …And there’s what I meant.
The crowd goes wild as he shoves her over and covers.
Ref: 1! 2! 3!
The bell rings as “Another Body Murdered” hits the PA. Pushing himself to his feet, Crow raises one arm triumphantly.
Heston Meeks: And here is your winner, Crow McMorris!
The crowd roars in appreciation as his arm lowers and he walks to the ropes, pulling himself out and walking back up the aisle.
Michael Stelzner: And there goes Crow onto the finals at Lazarus! Crow McMorris never got that chance at glory in his past endeavors, and now he’s a week away from sitting atop this company.
Christopher Morrell: I swear to god if it’s Crow versus fucking Omega, I’m going to call LBD and apologize to him for ever doubting his weirdo conspiracy shit.
Justin Chambers: Bro, that’s poetic. It’s like the XIII match we never got.
Michael Stelzner: Crow wasn’t facing Omega at XIII…
Justin Chambers: …
Christopher Morrell: …
The match is followed by a commercial for Kentucky Fried Chicken.
|
|
|
|
Post by Spencer Adams on Jun 5, 2016 23:45:29 GMT -6
Mayoral Address
The locker room was ripe with the comings and goings of the last Overload before Lazarus, the premiere PPV in the United Championship Infinite calendar. Though the evening was drawing close to a close, there was still a few matches left on what had been another exciting night in our little corner of Chicago. The wrestlers were mostly flocked around a television at the far end of the room, but for a few combatants who preferred the solitude of their own bubble and those who feared theft of personal belongings. Suddenly the door is flung open on it’s hinges and silence fills the room as four large men in black riot gear come march into the room, each of them as faceless as the man before, their identities concealed beneath visors as they flank the doorway, with two guards stationed at either side. The Mayor is next to enter, a familiar man in an unfamiliar role. David scans the locker room with a look of lethargic loathing etched on his face, standing directly in front of the lone entrance and exit, surrounded by his security detail that have already let their presence be felt tonight.
Mayor Sanchez: Constituents, curtain-jerkers and cunts of all culture…
Sanchez pauses a little for effect to make sure that everybody is listening. Unhappy though that the room is not completely focused on him, he points at a Blake Adams, clearly still unhappy from having his match interrupted earlier he had decided to keep his eyes on the television screen. That is of course until two of the four security officers march up to him without words, one withdraws his baton and lands a dull, sickening thud into the back of his skull whilst the other covers his head in a black bag. Adams, hits the ground unconscious and rendered blind only for a few seconds before the two hired goons grab a leg each and drag him passed David, out of the locker room and into obscurity.
Mayor Sanchez: Are we all listening now? Splendid. As I was saying… Six months ago, the good people of Chicago opened their hearts to the idea of rebuilding a government, re-electing city officials and trying to restart the world from where we left off before everything fell by the wayside. It started with whispers, as everything seems to these days. The wealthiest men and women met in secret to discuss who would lead our city into this brave, new world and what form the government would take. Ladies and gentlemen, I am that form, and I am that government, and as long as you want to hang your coat in this city, you will do so where I dictate that you may do so, when I say it’s allowed. You may work for other, lesser men like the so-called owners of this company, but make no mistake about it, everybody works for City Hall, and I. Am. City. Hall…
The locker room fills with muttering and distaste, after-all some of these men had wrestled alongside and against David in the past, the very thought of addressing this man as mayor of an entire city was ludicrous, but as the commentary team had educated us earlier, this was in fact as close to a governing body as was known to Chicago. David’s campaign was unchallenged, for nobody else had the wealth and resources to make the promises he was able to, and those who did rise up to throw their hat into the ring were either immediately shrouded in scandal or disappeared in much the same way that Blake Adams had just done.
Mayor Sanchez: I just wanted to take a few moments to make sure we all know where our bread is buttered, and who pays the taxman on your behalf. Carry on thinking it’s a free world if you want, but I promise you will be bitterly disappointed by what you find down the rabbit hole. Nothing in this city moves without my express permission, and that is simply the way things are. This is not a democracy, and this is not the United States of America. When you enter Chicago, you are entering the Untitled State of David fucking Sanchez, and you owe me a debt of gratitude for allowing you to work, live and play in this cesspit. I’m the one building housing for the poor, I’m the one overseeing the banking, I’m the one who keeps the criminals off the streets and I’m the one who’s building a school so that your fucking half-bred children don’t grow up like extras in Oliver Twist. I gave jobs to the poor and hope to those who thought god was dead. I keep your supermarkets stocked and your streetlights from flickering. I could go on all day here, but I’ll save you the trouble and let you get back to watching the rest of this B-movie production. The point is simple…
David coughs a little, clearing his throat and lighting a cigarette as the two security personnel who had removed Blake Adams from the locker room return, each carrying a briefcase. Upon the Mayor’s command, the cases are set down on the floor at either side of the locker room door and opened to reveal money, and a considerable amount of it.
Mayor Sanchez: Many things in life are left to choice, this is not one of those things. In Chicago, you can either accept that things are how they are, collect a bit of extra cash in the process and keep letting that bitch wife of yours thinking that you’re a breadwinner, or you can find yourself in a concrete grave beneath the streets that I’m rebuilding. Help yourselves gentlemen, the days of old have ended and now we march boldly together, once more unto the breach if you will. Change is not coming, it is here. With that, I bid you… Adieu.
David turns and exits the room first, followed by his security detail, then by Mr. Wright who had been watching from one of the room’s quiet corners, but not before he snatches up an entire case of twenty dollar bills for himself, fastens it shut and smiles at the rest of his peers. The other case is left on the floor for anybody to claim, to be shared or simply taken by one man. No instruction was left and no explanation of what was going to happen next was provided.
|
|
|
|
Post by Spencer Adams on Jun 5, 2016 23:46:37 GMT -6
Television Championship:
Wentworth Updegraff Jr. vs. Shadowlove
"PERSONAL JESUS” by Depeche Mode begins to play throughout the darkened Arena. A mixture of multicolored laser lights and strobe lights illuminate the Arena along with theatrical smoke and fog sets the scene like a Four Season Fashion Show. The Audience throughout the Arena stand in anticipation for what is about to be the "New" wrestling trend in the UCI.
Heston Meeks: This next match is scheduled for one fall, and is for the UCI Television championship! Coming to the ring first, standing six feet, four inches tall, and weighing in at two hundred thirty five pounds, the Handsome Half-breed, Shadowlove!
Coming through the theatrical smoke and fog and appearing under the fashion show lighting is the one and only, "The Dynamic Duo" in all of sports entertainment, "The Handsome Half-breed" Shadowlove, along with his personal bodyguard/valet, "The Fashionista Sensei" Ms. Miyamoto, stopping for a second, taking in the aura of the Arena, pose like fashion models on a catwalk.
Michael Stelzner: Here comes Shadowlove, a wrestler who has been impressing a lot of people recently.
Justin Chambers: Let’s see if he can impress Wentworth Updegraff Jr.
The Audience throughout the Arena begin clicking away with their cameras like the paparazzi during a "Hollywood" premiere. Ms. Miyamoto leads the way down the aisle with "flirty" confidence as Shadowlove, a few steps behind her, enjoying the view. "The Dynamic Duo" make their way to the squared circle. Shadowlove slides into the ring like a snake. Ms. Miyamoto, with catlike precision, walks up the ringside steps and seductively enters the ring through the second rope.
His music stops, and is replaced with “Playa” by D-Loc. The crowd begins booing loudly, as Wentworth Updegraff Jr. steps through the curtain. The random woman that follows behind him this week is blonde, and wearing a tiny red dress. A sparkling gold and purple robe is wrapped around the champion obscuring the belt from view as he step to the top of the ramp, and holds his arms out. He closes his eyes, soaking in cheers that aren’t coming.
Heston Meeks: And his opponent, standing six feet, two inches tall and weighing in at two hundred, thirty pounds, he is the standard of sophistication, and your UCI Television champion, Wentworth Updegraff Jr.
Justin Chambers: Here is the TV champion. He won the title decisively in a three way match last week, and hasn’t shut up about it since.
Christopher Morrell: Let the man brag! He’s the TV champion, and UCI’s first ever champion! He’s sort of like the world champion right now!
Michael Stelzner: How much did he pay you to say that?
Wentworth struts down the ramp slowly, giving a gradual spin, the long sleeves of his robe twisting with him as a shower of silver sparks rain down from the ceiling. He makes his way up the ring steps, and between the ropes, before standing in the middle of the ring. He slowly undoes the rope belt, and opens his robe, revealing the TV title wrapped firmly around his waist. He takes the robe off and hands it to his valet of the week. He then reluctantly removes the title, and gives it a kiss, before handing it to the ref.
Michael Stelzner: You brought up an interesting point. Wentworth is UCI’s first champion, which means he’s the first champion to attempt a title defense here. How do you think he’ll react to the pressure?
The referee shows the belt to Shadowlove, and then to the audience, before handing it to the time keeper, and signalling for the bell to ring. The two men immediately lock up, shoving back and forth a bit before Wentworth turns it into a side headlock. He wrenches on the hold a few times, before Shadowlove falls back and bounces him off the ropes. He shoves Wentworth across the ring, and hits him with a stiff european uppercut on the rebound. Updegraff hits the ground, and Shadowlove immediately goes for a quick elbow drop. Wentworth rolls out of the way just in time. Shadowlove hits the canvas, and Updegraff immediately wrenches his arm around into a fujiwara armbar.
Michael Stelzner: A little back and forth from the competitors in this one.
They are close enough to the ropes that Wentworth puts his feet on them and uses them for leverage. The ref notices quickly, and starts counting. Wentworth lets him get to four, before letting go of the hold, and popping to his feet. Shadowlove stands up, shaking out his shoulder, before the two men lock up again. This time Shadowlove gets the upperhand, and pushes Wentworth back against the ropes. Updegraff quickly pokes his opponent in the eye, and rolls him up in a schoolboy before the ref can see.
...1!
...2!
… Shadowlove kicks out. Both men jump up, but Shadowlove moves first this time, hitting Wentworth with a nasty lariat. He lifts Updegraff to his feet, and whips him into the ropes. On the rebound, Shadowlove bends down and hits him with a snap northern lights suplex, holding on for the pin.
...1!
...2!
...No! Wentworth kicks out.
Michael Stelzner: Both men trying to end it early, neither able to finish it off though.
Justin Chambers: Well, they’re not paid by the hour.
Shadowlove lifts Wentworth, and whips him into the ropes again. This time, the rebound goes Wentworth’s way, and he dives forward, hitting Shadowlove with a chop block to the front of the knee. He hits the ground, clutching his leg, and screaming in pain. Updegraff takes the opportunity, and quickly flips Shadowlove over, and locks him in an STF.
Christopher Morrell: There it is! Wentworth Updegraff’s patented STF! He is putting a ton of pressure on Shadowlove’s injured knee right now.
Justin Chambers: You’re right about that. He needs to get out of this hold, fast.
Wentworth wrenches on the hold, as Shadowlove flails for ropes just beyond his reach. When he sees he can’t reach it, he uses all of his strength to rock back and forth, until he can flip both of them over. It doesn’t break the hold, but he is now close enough to the ropes to grab on. The ref demands Wentworth release the hold, and when he doesn’t, the ref starts counting. He gets to four before Wentworth lets go. This time he gets a talking to from the referee, which allows Shadowlove to recover. Updegraff pushes the ref out of the way, but Shadowlove is already headed toward him. He grabs Wentworth, and hits him with a high belly to belly suplex, sending Wentworth rolling all the way out of the ring.
Michael Stelzner: What power from Shadowlove! My god!
Justin Chambers: Sent Wentworth Updegraff all the way across the ring and through the ropes. That crash to the floor didn’t look like much fun either.
Shadowlove climbs out of the ring, and begins to chase Wentworth, who is crawling away as fast as he can. Shadowlove quickly catches up to him, lifts him to his feet, and tosses him into the steel guardrail. He lifts Updegraff again, this time tossing him through the steel steps, sending the top half flying. Shadowlove lifts his opponent again, this time rolling him under the bottom rope, and following for the pin.
...1!
...2!
...No! Wentworth gets the shoulder up. Shadowlove slaps the mat in frustration, before standing to his feet. He walks across the ring, standing in the corner until Wentworth gets to his hands and knees. Shadowlove then runs forward, and goes to kick him in the head. Updegraff gets upright at,jb the last second, and grabs Shadowlove’s leg, flinging it forward, and sending the man to his back. Wentworth hops to his feet, and then jumps onto the second rope, before leaping off and landing on his back, hitting Shadowlove with a nasty senton. He hops up again, and signals for the Check Cutter.
Michael Stelzner: Here comes Wentworth’s finisher. Shadowlove better be paying attention.
He is, and instead of standing up, he slides himself out of the ring. He takes a lap on the floor, but Wentworth isn’t ready to let up. He bounces against the opposite ropes, and hits a suicide dive, sending both men to the floor as the fans cheer. Wentworth is the first to recover. He tosses Shadowlove into the ring, and follows after. He waits for the man to stand, before wrapping one arm around his neck, and using the other arm to put on a hammerlock. He tries to claps his hands and lock on the Windsor Knot, but Shadowlove wrenches the two of them forward, grabbing onto the top rope, causing Wentworth to let go. He doesn’t back off though. Updegraff rolls Shadow up in a pin, and grabs a handful of tights.
...1!
...2!
...3!
Shadowloves kicks out, but not quite in time. Wentworth jumps to his feet in celebration, as his opponent sits on the mat, shouting at the ref. Shadowlove is ushered out of the ring, as Wentworth is handed the television title. Updegraff holds the belt high above his head in celebration, smiling as the fans boo him mercilessly.
Heston Meeks: Ladies and gentlemen, your winner and STILL UCI television champion, Wentworth Updegraff Jr.!
While Wentworth is celebrating, the booing turns to cheers as the fans see Jay Omega hop over the guardrail, and slide into the ring behind Wentworth. He grabs the man, lifting him in a pumphandle position, before dropping down into a double knee backbreaker.
Michael Stelzner: There it is! Wentworth’s payback from last week! Ride the Lightning!
Omega stands to his feet, looking out on the cheering crowd, as Wentworth rolls out of the ring and is helped to the back.
Justin Chambers: Jay Omega delivering his receipt in brutal fashion tonight!
|
|
|
|
Post by Spencer Adams on Jun 5, 2016 23:47:25 GMT -6
Jay Omega vs. Chase Jackson
The opening riffs of Rise Against's Broken Mirrors hit and the hardcore smarks pop and the marks just clap along as Chase Jackson walks out from the curtain. He stops and kneels down on the top of the stage and bounces back up with his arms out and a huge smile across his face as some light pyro shoots from behind him! Chase spins 360 degrees with his arms still out and walks down the ramp shoutin' some cool things to the crowd. High fives and finger-guns to some hot chicks. Jackson jumps onto the apron of the ring and nods his head with the music before going through the ropes. From there Jackson bounces off the far ropes and comes back to the hard cam and points some more finger guns with his trademark smile. Jackson runs his hands through his hair shoving it back as he moves to his corner to start the match.
Heston Meeks: First, from Chicago, Illinois, Chase Jackson!!
Michael Stelzner: Impressive showing by the rookie CJ3 in this tournament so far!
Christopher Morrell: Please just let this fucking guy beat Omega..
Justin Chambers: Would you ever stop being a hater?
Christopher Morrell: Nope.
"15 Minutes" by Egypt Central hits the P.A. system and green lights strobe in random places throughout the crowd in time with the guitar. A thin layer of fog floats across the stage, and Jay Omega struts out to the top of the ramp.
Heston Meeks: Making his way to the ring, from the Imperial Isle of Maritopia... JAY OMEGA!
Omega stands on the stage for a moment with his arms spread and a cocky smirk on his face, then casually makes his way down the ramp, crossing back and forth to slap hands with fans. At ringside Jay hops up onto the apron, then vaults over the ropes before crossing the ring and climbing up to the second turnbuckle. Omega poses for the crowd amidst a flickering strobe effect from thousands of cameraphone flashbulbs, then drops down and leans back into the corner to await the bell.
Justin Chambers: What do you guys see as the big takeaways of this match?
Michael Stelzner: You have a very strong, talented rookie with all the tools to get the job done against a man who has been to the top of the mountain among many of the people on our active roster. Maybe it could be a passing of the torch or maybe it could be Omega assuming the spot many of him expect him to gain and that is the main event of Lazarus against Crow McMorris who we learned earlier tonight will be advancing to the finals of this tournament!
Christopher Morrell: I just want it to be over with.
DING DING DING!!!
Omega goes to measure up Jackson for a tie up and is immediately met with a big clothesline from CJ3.
Justin Chambers: Not wasting any time here! CJ3 really wants this one!
Michael Stelzner: Well you can’t waste any time trying to get momentum against somebody as experienced in this business as Jay Omega!
Jackson stomps away at his opponent before lifting him to his feet and hooking the arms around his opponents’ midsection.
Justin Chambers: Wrapping the arms around Omega in a bearhug, good way to try to slow Jay down.
Christopher Morrell: Omega is already slow.
Michael Stelzner: Just shut up and enjoy the match, dammit.
Jackson continues to apply the hold as he rams his opponent into the post now, backing up after each assault to squeeze down harder on the bearhug. The ref asks Omega if he’s going to tap as the back pain is clearly getting to him. Omega yells out and shakes his head as Jackson keeps the hold in place.
Justin Chambers: Strength is CJ3’s biggest advantage over Omega and he’s using that the best he can!
Christopher Morrell: He’d be an idiot if he wasn’t using such strategy.
Jackson once again pushes Omega against the corner. Omega manages to reach a hand up, pushing off against Jackson’s face as motions for the two men to break it up. Chase listens and backs up into the opposite corner as Omega holds his back, holding the rope to regain proper form. CJ3 smiles and bounces around a bit, stretching his arms out to pump himself up as the ref motions for the two men to continue.
Michael Stelzner: The two men tie up properly this time!
Jackson delivers a couple jabs and kicks to the gut before bouncing off the rope and going for another big clothesline to his opponent.
Justin Chambers: Omega with the back body drop, sending CJ3 flying through the air!
Michael Stelzner: Jackson getting up and charging again!
Justin Chambers: And another big back body drop!
Jackson rises to his feet, only to be lifted up by Omega who goes for the scoop slam. Jackson manages to wiggle out and drop behind Omega as he shoves him against the ropes.
Michael Stelzner: Omega calculating it and sliding underneath to the outside!
Christopher Morrell: Jackson not far behind though!
Justin Chambers: Chase Jackson diving through the ropes now!
Michael Stelzner: SPEAR! DIVING SPEAR THROUGH THE ROPES AND BOTH MEN ARE DOWN!
Crowd: HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!
Justin Chambers: They are absolutely loving this!
Michael Stelzner: Well now the momentum plummets as that move took a big toll on both of these men!
1!
2!
3!
Michael Stelzner: The referee counting now, don’t let this match end in a double countout!
4!
5!
6!
Justin Chambers: Both men just barely starting to show life! Will it be enough to get back inside the ring?
7!
8!
Christopher Morrell: Both to their feet now!
9!
Michael Stelzner: And Omega and Jackson just barely managing to slide back into the ring, right as the ref was about to lift his hands up for the countout as well!
The two men lay on the mat exhausted as they shoot each other a couple chuckle laced grins in the middle of their respective crawls toward the ropes.
Justin Chambers: It won’t end that easy!
Omega manages to get to his feet first as CJ3 is still busy trying to get back up. Omega sees the opportunity and stomps away at the back of his opponents leg. Chase’s knee buckles with each strike as Omega’s boot meets the back of it. Omega locks his arm around Jackson’s head before Chase breaks loose and whips his opponent into the corner.
Christopher Morrell: Jackson charging once again!
Michael Stelzner: Omega dipping down as he holds onto that rope for leverage!
Justin Chambers: Big kick to the side of the head sending Jackson flat on his back looking up at the sky!
Michael Stelzner: I think Omega is looking at the sky now too!
Omega climbs to the top and makes sure he’s steady before leaping through the air.
Justin Chambers: Frog Splas-!
Michael Stelzner: But Jackson gets the knees up!
Omega rolls over in pain as Jackson scrambles to the hook the leg.
1!
2!
KICKOUT!
Justin Chambers: Close call for Omega there! That could’ve been it!
Christopher Morrell: Jackson looks strong as hell here though, I’ll give him that much.
Michael Stelzner: Since when did you become a Chase Jackson fan?
Christopher Morrell: Since he started fighting Jay Omega.
Michael Stelzner: God, you’re a shithead.
Christopher Morrell: It’s what I do.
Jackson goes to pick Omega up, but is met with a burst of strength and a surprise hip toss.
Justin Chambers: And another one!
Michael Stelzner: Hashtag when you’re gonna quote DJ Khaled, man. This is United Meme Infinite for a reason, dammit!
Omega manages to lift Jackson up for the scoop slam this time and connects. He leans over with a hand gripping at his battered midsection as he motions for the crowd to get louder.
Michael Stelzner: Omega measuring him, could be going for a big Ride the Lightning!
Omega lifts his opponent up in position for the finish.
Christopher Morrell: Jackson catches him with a small package though!
1!
2!
Justin Chambers: NO! OMEGA KICKED OUT!
Michael Stelzner: Just by a tenth of a second, that’s all that keeps this match alive here!
Chase Jackson sits up and hold out two fingers in disbelief from Omega’s ability to kickout. He pounds the mat as both men get back up. As they face off once again, Jackson uses the element of surprise once more to leap forward into Omega’s midsection.
Justin Chambers: And another spear!
Omega flies against the corner this time, slumping back against the middle turnbuckle as Jackson charges at him again.
Christopher Morrell: Face Smasher!
Jackson grabs Omega before his body slumps down any further and lifts him into the air.
Michael Stelzner: He could be going for Jacked up here!
Jackson screams out as he goes to drop Omega to the mat.
Justin Chambers: Omega dropping back down now!
Omega bounces off the ropes and leaps off the ropes.
Michael Stelzner: Shoulder block!
Omega runs off the ropes again.
Justin Chambers: Dropkick!
After flying into Chase, Omega drops to the mat, struggling to crawl over for the cover.
Michael Stelzner: Pin him, Jay! You’re so close!
Omega flings an arm over Jackson.
1!
2!
KICKOUT!
Christopher Morrell: Thank god!
Omega kip’s up as he taunts for the finish.
Justin Chambers: Jackson to his feet now!
Michael Stelzner: Jackson kicking Omega in the gut now as he lifts him up going for Jacked up once again!
Jackson gets Omega about halfway up for the finish, but Omega gets back to his feet and lifts Jackson up.
Justin Chambers: Ride the Lightning!
1!
2!
3!
DING DING DING!!!
Heston Meeks: Your winner, Jay Omega!!!
Justin Chambers: Omega is going to Lazarus!
Michael Stelzner: Oh, but what a hell of a showing from Chase Jackson!
The lights dim a bit as attention turns to the curtain where a figure is seen standing at the start of the entranceway.
Christopher Morrell: Crow is here!
Crow stares on at Jay who leans against the rope for support. Crow nods and shoots Omega a grin as Overload fades to black.
|
|
