Monday Night Mayhem
May 24th, 2010 – #HOW119
Kallisten Coliseum, Chicago, IL
The Kost of Kontroversy
The empty parking lot appears on camera, as it pans toward a car slowly pulling up. With a light screech, the car comes to a stop, and ICON Champion ChristPlow steps out and looks around. He slings his title over his shoulder, a cocky gleam in his eye, until something stops him dead in his tracks. The Savior’s eyes grow wide, as a large shadow steps out in front of him.
ChristPlow: What the fuck are YOU doing he–
Before he can finish the sentence, he is greeted with a hard right hand to the face that sends him sprawling to the ground. The ICON Champion spills over to the concrete of the parking lot after the cheap shot, quickly getting back to his feet to face his assailant. As he does, he is quickly dropped right back to the floor with a stiff boot to the mouth. Blood and spit fly almost in slow motion as MPlow slumps down to the concrete, disoriented.
ChristPlow: What– what the– *cough*
Hoffman: Folks we have no idea what is going on right now, but we’re going to try and get some security back there to–
Even Joe Hoffman is silenced, as the mystery attacker steps out from the shadows and into the light. Chris. Motherfucking. Kostoff. Looking down at MPlow, Kostoff grabs the ICON Championship from his shoulder, tossing it aside and lifting the champion to his feet. ChristPlow goes to throw a punch, but it’s quickly brushed away as Kostoff grips him by the shoulder, rearing back and practically splintering the champion’s nose with a thunderous headbutt. The arena is practically silenced, as Kostoff effortlessly tosses the sputtering ChristPlow into the chain link fence surrounding the parking area. Not even missing a beat, Kostoff continues the assault, landing a series of blows to ChristPlow’s face as more blood spills from his head. Grabbing MPlow by the shirt, he lifts him close to his face.
Kostoff: Do you know what your fucking family has done to me, kid?
The HOW legend shoves the terrified ChristPlow back against the fence, laying another headbutt into his already bleeding nose.
Kostoff: Lee Best– your scumbag fucking father– he fucked my wife. He killed my fucking CHILD, do you even know what that means?
Christ Kostoff drops MPlow to his feet, pulling him close and holding him by the back of the head.
Kostoff: And now, his heir to the throne opens an abortion clinic? Mocks killing fucking children and puts it on television? You should be ashamed– do you have anything to say for yourself?
Through a bloody mess of a face, ChristPlow smirks at the HOW legend as he launches a wad of spit into his flowing hair.
ChristPlow: You– should have– brought the baby– to me– heh– heh–
Driving his knee into MPlow’s stomach, Kostoff grabs him and lifts him high into the air. Inside the HOW Arena the crowd is going wild as the HOW Hall Of Famer drives him down to the cement with the “No Remorse”.
Newell: Is he still alive?
Hoffman: This is horrible– we need to get emergency service professionals back there as quick as we can. I’m not the biggest fan of Mike Plow-Best, but this assault was just unmerciful. My God.
Getting to his feet he looks down at the bloody mess that lays before him. A second shadow appears as Barbi comes into the light. With anger in her eyes she looks at the bloody MPlow.
Barbi: You done here?
Looking at his wife, Kostoff grins.
Barbi: Let’s go, I’m tired of this crap.
As the turn to walk off, Barbi spins and drives her shoe into the ribs of MPlow.
Hoffman: The true first family of HOW is back tonight folks and they mean business!
B.A.R.E.ly an Interview
Cutting backstage, the always twitchy and slackerly dressed Brian B.A.R.E. is standing in front of the new HOW Champion’s locker room, clearly jonesing for his next fix. Standing next to him wearing a tan pinstripe three button suit, pink dress shirt with the top button undone, and the HOW Championship belt over his shoulder is Jatt Starr. Standing to his left is Bethany Sparrow who is dressed in black leather pants, black boots, and a white v-neck top.
Brian B.A.R.E.: I am standing here with the new HOW Champion, Jatt Starr. Jatt, after last week’s controversial victory over—
Jatt Starr: Controversial? There was nothing controversial about it! In fact, the Sultan of SeaJattle is absolutely offended and befuddled! Winning the HOW Championship for a fourth time is a milestone! Where is the red carpet? Where are the fireworks? Where’s the celebration? I am the greatest High Octane Wrestler in history! Where’s the fanfare?
Brian B.A.R.E.: Um…
Jatt Starr: Wolfgang Bruggemann had his little celebration when he won the title! He had his moment in the ring! Heck, even Mediocre Maurako had a celebration when he won the HOW Title! What about the Ratings Juggernaut? This is a travesty! I have proven to the world that I am a better person than him! I have a family that loves him! And now….the HOW Title….THE symbol of my dominance over Wolfgang Bruggemann in the ring.
Is that not worth some grand ceremony???? Is it not worth a Jatt Starr Hall of Fame ceremony where I can be inducted the way I deserve, instead of lumped in with those has-beens Kostoff, Lynx, Narcotic, and Darkwing Duck???
Brian B.A.R.E.: I’m sure Lee—
Jatt Starr: The fact of the matter is, Lee Best is so full of himself right now, he considers himself a “god”. The problem with gods is that people have to believe in them for them to have power….they have to have followers. The Sovereign of Starrgentina is a leader, not a follower….Right, honey?
Jatt Starr turns towards his wife, who nods approvingly.
Jatt Starr: I’m the Jattlantic City Idol! The Hero of Jattlanta! The Champion of Jattanooga! I’m the HOW Champion! I am the KING of the HOW!!! What the Ruler of Jattlantis says is law!!! I have precedent to back me up! I said I’d beat Wolfgang Bruggemann at “March to Glory” and I did! I said I’d beat Wolfgang Bruggemann to become the HOW Champion and I did! I said I would make that German Weiner schnitzel pay for hurting my son….and I have!
Brian B.A.R.E.: Considering your tag team partner tonight, Mike—
Jatt Starr: Mike knows what’s best for him. It’s not about trust tonight or at “War Games”. It’s about agendas. Everyone has an agenda. As long as their agenda does not keep me from achieving my own, then great. But TEAM SCAT has to keep this in mind: If you’re not with me, you’re against me. And there’s a lot more riding on “War Games” than just the HOW Championship. Mike Best’s ICON Title and Ryan Faze’s LSD Title. If they’re smart, they’d want to make sure they keep me happy and allow me the courtesy of pinning and ending of Der Weinerschnitzel’s career!
Brian B.A.R.E.: A couple of weeks ago, Christ Plow had mentioned he wanted to be the one to end Aceldama’s career. Are you concerned that—-
Jatt Starr: Brian…if the Marquis of Madaga-Starr does not pin Wolfgang Bruggemann….well, let’s just say, accidents have been known to happen every now and again. And I would hate for one to befall the person that would pin Herr Bruggemann causing them THEIR ICON title. But that’s all speculation, right? ChristPlow and I have an agreement. I trust he’ll do the right thing.
Brian B.A.R.E.: Speaking of your partner, you and Christ Plow have an opportunity to become the HOW Tag Team Champions. Are you concerned at all that—-
Jatt Starr: Why should the Jattanese Emperor be concerned? There are two goals tonight. Prevent Wolfgang Bruggemann from ending his career as a champion and to keep those titles out of Max Kael’s hands.
Brian B.A.R.E.: What does Max Kael have to do with—
Jatt Starr: Brian, keep up! Those drugs have rotted your already pea-sized brain! This is conceivably Max Kael’s last chance to win the tag team titles! His obsessive game of one-upmanship can come crashing down in one fell swoop tonight! If I win those tag team titles, they will be retired….forever!!! I don’t care if I have to toss them in an active volcano, after Plow and I win those belts, you’ll never see them again….that will be JATTLANTIS LAW! Now, if you’ll excuse me, the King of Grapple from the Big Apple has a match to prepare for!
Jatt Starr opens the door to his locker room, holding it for Bethany, who enters first, followed by the HOW Champion as the scene ends, cutting immediately to commercial break.
Get MetLife now, or I’ll eat your fucking spleen!
Returning from the first commercial of the evening, the crowd at ringside – along with Joe and Benny – and the numerous fans watching from home are greeted with the broad smile of Shane Reynolds, whose eyes are busily surveying the area in front of him….the seats in which he has invited numerous members of the media to come and be seated.
Shane Reynolds: Thank-you all for coming.
Shane says, still without dropping the smile, as the camera pans back to reveal he is not dressed as he had been the last two weeks – in a Jesus outfit – but instead in a smart pinstripe suit, complete with an expensive purple shirt and matching tie. The new view also allows it to be seen that Shane is standing behind a podium, which rests on the stage he arranged to have set-up.
Shane Reynolds: I will be opening the floor to questions later on, but for now allow me to get to the point of why I have gathered you all here today.
Shane pauses to pick up a stack of papers and neatens them with a quick tap and prepares himself with a swift clearing of his throat. The pages are actually blank, nothing more than a prop for effect.
Shane Reynolds: And the point, ladies and gentleman, actually three-fold. Firstly, it is to dispel the wicked rumours and accusations that struggling so profusely am I to change my image, that I am resorting to stealing the ideas and gimmicks of other superstars.
Shane laughs abruptly, a harshly forced and grating sound to all but his own ears.
Shane Reynolds: Obviously we all know that these accusations are completely unjust. Blasphemous even. No more than the work of a jealous-minded fools who can’t stand the fact I will be both Tag-Team and World Champion soon. Why would I need to steal anything? You see, I have finally come to know my place and purpose in High Octane Wrestling. Which is the main of the three points I’ve gathered you all here today.
Shane takes a step back, revealing a piece of cord which had previously been hidden out of view behind him.
Shane Reynolds: And what is that place and purpose, I hear you ask….?
Although silence prevails as nobody actually did ask.
Shane Reynolds: Well it is, quite simply, to discuss something close to all of our hearts and always on our minds. Something which effects every…single…life on this earth, be it directly or indirectly. I’m talking, of course, about Emotism….
Shane finally pulls down on the chord, prompting a large banner to decend quickly behind him. A banner displaying the an image of Aceldama, altered to make pulling a sad pout and holding a razor to his wrist. Emotism is written beneath it in bold, block lettering.
Shane Reynolds: Emotism is a serious contagious condition which kills up to but never more than four and a half people a year. And, although it may surprise you all deeply, it is a condition I was once a victim of.
Shane pauses, awaiting gasps of surprise and shock that never come.
Shane Reynolds: I’ve both seen and felt the effects it can have….
Shane’s eyes glaze over momentarily as he looks upwards towards the ceiling with aslight tilt of his head.
Shane Reynolds: Oh, the terror, blood and humanity!!!
And then, with a blink, he returns to his former position, facing ahead of him again. All as though he’d never broken from his speech.
Shane Reynolds: …but I’m here to tell you all, that you’d need not suffer any longer. That there is light under the door of bedroom painted completely in black. And a way to silence Linkin Park and Staind.
Shane’s hand reaches for the chord hanging from the ceiling again.
Shane Reynolds: Finally, after all these years, I have found the cure, and it’s time to stop it once and for all, before it can spread through HOW more than it already has. All courtesy of my new intiative.
Shane pulls on the chord again. Another banner descends – finally blocking out the previous image attacking the former World Champion and Shane’s War Games Team Captain. Instead it displays four letters:
Pulling a extendable pointer from his inside pocket, Shane taps each letter in turn, saying them aloud as he goes.
Shane Reynolds: S…C…A….T….
His eyes grow wide as he realises a letter is missing and quickly rushes over to the banner and in magic marker scrawls the last one on next to the T.
Shane Reynolds: ….e.
Shane Reynolds: Pronounced like skate but spelt with a ‘C’. Standing for Shane’s Campaign Against Transmittable Emotism.
He looks directly into the camera now, returning to his broad, politician smile again.
Shane Reynolds: It’s time to put an end to the tears.
He gives the chord one last, sharp tug. The last of the banners unrolls behind Shane, displaying the image from a few weeks ago on Aceldama crying onto the World Championship. The camera focuses on this image and on Shane still smilingwhen someone calls out.
‘And what’s the third point?’
Shane glares towards the source of the question: a nearby male reporter with a touch of a foreign accent, possibly mexican.
Shane Reynolds: I was getting to that!
‘Well, get a move on then. The gauntlet’ll be continuing soon.’
Shane Reynolds: Alright, alright!
Shane hurriedly flicks through the sheets of paper laid out in front of him….and then turns back towards the room at large.
Shane Reynolds: The third and final point is the subject which is on everybody’s lips: War Games!
Shane pauses to walk around to the front of the podium, before sitting down in front of it as though he’s Tony Stark from Iron Man.
Shane Reynolds: For weeks now, a question mark has hung in the air over the ambitions and agendas of some of those competing. While some – like Jatt and Aceldama’s – are obvious, people still ask me what my aim is? Well, to answer that finally, it’s what it has been the last two years…..to win. My aim is to be the last man standing…..the sole last man standing. Not anybody on the other team, not anybody else on team. And most definitely not Aceldama. Me. The whole me and nothing but the me. And after failing the last two years, nobody is going to hinder that again.
‘Not even Ryan Faze? Rumour has it he’s out for your blood after what happened last week!
A new voice, equally accented, but this time puerto rican.
Shane Reynolds: You mean…..this?
Shane reaches into his pocket, pulls out a small control and presses the button. The screen – and incidently – the HOV at ringside, fills with footage from last week’s man-event. Pulled away from the in-ring action, though, the clip shows Shane Reynolds unleash a spray of Dr. Thunder from his mouth and right into Ryuan Faze’s face. Shane then immediate throws his arm celebratory into the air. The image pauses there and lingers for a moment and then cuts back to Shane.
Shane Reynolds: What can I say about that except it was a complete accident. If Mr. Faze bears any grudge about that, then that’s his perogative…..but no, not even that will stop me winning War Games. He vainly guarantees that he’ll be the one to win War Games, but I guarantee on my Hall of Fame status that he won’t!
Shane Reynolds: So, on all of those notes….are there any further questions?
‘If you were a tree….what tree would you be? asks a high-pitched and squeaky voice.
Shane Reynolds: Easy! The one with the tag-team and World championships around its trunk. Next!
‘Have you ever seen a female superstar naked?
Shane Reynolds: Almost. Carmen Jennings…but a stupid rubber duck was floating along and blocking a full view. And Bobbinette Carey tried, but I was too afraid for my eyes burning from my sockets to look.
‘Is it true that if you win the tag-team championships, you and Crow are going to customise them?
Shane Reynolds: That is one of the options on the table for when we win, yes. With a dragon or something. Next! Yes, you in the back. What’s your question?
‘Yeah, my question is this – Are you going to drop this bullshit now and actually start preparing with me for the tag-team gauntlet?
The camera turns to glance in the direction from which this last question came, quickly bringing into view the rest of the room. Rows upon rows of seats can be seen…..
….with nobody in them. The only ones actually occupied are the one at the front by Cyril The Compact Citizen – who leapt at the chance to display his array of accents and impressions, reading from a sheet of paper on his lap.
The one in the far left hand corner by a janitor and his girlfriend getting up to even more things the camera quickly diverts from, and the far right corner corner by his tag-team partner for the evening, Crow. He still has his hand in the air from volunteering his own query, but drops it now.
Shane Reynolds: Alright, fine!
Shane says with a sigh….and then punches the fist of one hand into the open palm of the other.
Shane Reynolds: Let’s go kick some ass!
Tag Team Title Match
Benny Newell: Or how about, let’s drink some fucking shots? After that segment, I’m gonna need about fifty of ‘em.
Joe Hoffman: Well then line them up quickly, Benny! It appears we’re about ready to get this Tag Team title Gauntlet match under way!
Benny Newell: Wait… aren’t we forgetting something?
Joe Hoffman: You know, I was thinking that too… but it’s something I just can’t put my finger on. Hmmm… oh well!
A cut away from the befuddled announcers takes us to an elaborate glass case at ringside, where the Tag Team title belts are secure and being showcased for all to see.
Bryan McVay: The following contest is a GAUNTLET MATCH for the High Octane Wrestling Tag Team Championships! Introducing first…
Benny Newell: Who’s it going to be, Joe?!?
Bryan McVay: …at a combined weight of 435 pounds, CHRISTOPHER AMERICA… and JAMES ‘BLACK MAMBA’ RANGER!
At the tune of Fort Minor’s “Remember the Name”, America and Ranger appear on the stage to a rousing ovation from the crowd. Despite the warm reception, both look slightly peeved that they’ve been selected to wrestle first, knowing that their odds of winning the Tag Team titles have just gotten a whole lot worse.
Joe Hoffman: Well Benny, we all know that Christopher America has defied the odds in title matches like this one before, but Black Mamba… you have to consider him more of a wild card, wouldn’t you say?
Benny Newell: A wild card? Ha! If you ask me, he’s more like the deuce of clubs… the worst card in the deck. Seriously, does this fucker even have a contract?
Joe Hoffman: I wouldn’t completely put him off, Benny… especially after his near-upset of the ICON champion last week. Regardless, it will be interesting to see if Black Mamba can co-exist with our unpredictable HOFC champion here tonight.
As we see America and Ranger enter the ring, Bryan McVay wastes no time introducing their opponents as “Circus” by Britney Spears brings Bobbinette Carey from the back. She gets a mixed and somewhat odd reaction from the crowd until Ethan Cavanaugh walks out onto the stage behind her, reluctant and slow in his pace as it’s clear he wants no part of Christopher America… at least not until War Games.
Benny Newell: I’ll be honest with you, Joe… it’s good to see Carey back in action here tonight.
Joe Hoffman: Sorry… did I just hear you say something good about Bobbinette Carey?!?
Benny Newell: What are you deaf, numnuts? Of course, I said it! It’s been way too fucking long since we’ve seen a Cameltoe like that in a High Octane ring. Look at it, Joe! The bulge in her tights is almost bigger than Cavanaugh’s!
Joe Hoffman: Benny! Have some respect for your fellow Hall of Famer!
As Joe continues to admonish his broadcast partner, Ethan pleads with Carey near the ring steps in hopes that she’ll help him steer clear of the HOFC champion. As they talk things over, a short-lived smile forms across the face of Bobbinette, as if she’s amused by Ethan’s request. It’s not until a Double Baseball Slide from America and Black Mamba connects with the two that the Tag Team title Gauntlet match officially begins, as called for by Referee Joel Hortega.
Joe Hoffman: Great teamwork by Christopher America and James Ranger!
With obvious intentions, Christopher America lunges towards his War Games opponent, who shields himself in horror. Fortunately for Ethan, Bobbinette Carey makes the save with a leg sweep that trips up the HOFC champion.
Joe Hoffman: Memory-loss or not, it’s got to be hard for Carey to forget all the beatings she took at the hands of America and the AoA.
Benny Newell: Yeah, especially since there were so many of them. Hell, I’d beat off on her myself if given the opportunity.
Lost in translation, Benny receives a glare from Joe, who shakes his head in shame as Carey catches America off-guard with her ‘Queen’s Grasp’ submission hold; a move that is known to burst the semen right out from a man’s cajones.
Benny Newell: Look, Joe! She’s fondling his privates!
Joe Hoffman: ::sighing:: It’s going to be a long night, isn’t it?
As America shrieks in pain, his tag team partner does him due justice in the ring with a Stalling Back Suplex on Cavanaugh, who hits the mat hard upon impact. Slow to his feet, Ethan fails to avoid the Mule Kick he receives from Ranger, which doubles him over in the center of the ring.
Joe Hoffman: Mamba off the ropes… ‘ROLLING THUNDER’!!! Cavanaugh is down!
Benny Newell: The fuck? Get up, you pussy!
As Ranger applies the cover, the crowd counts along in unison with Joel Hortega.
Crowd: UNO! DOS!! TRES!!!
Bobbinette Carey and Ethan Cavanaugh have been eliminated!
Benny Newell: Are you fucking kidding me? My Great Grandma Newell could’ve kicked out of that move. Pretty sad, considering the bitch has been dead for twenty years.
Having heard the result from the outside, Bobbinette Carey releases Christopher America, shaking her head in disgust as she storms off backstage.
Joe Hoffman: Bobbinette Carey cannot be happy with the performance of her tag team partner. On the flip side, James ‘Black Mamba’ Ranger comes up huge to advance his team in the Gauntlet.
Poised in his celebration, Black Mamba slides out of the ring to offer to help the HOFC champion. Still in a considerable amount of pain, America neglects his assistance, mainly because he wanted to be the one to get his hands on his ‘slave master’. As the two roll back into the ring, all Chris can do is watch as Ethan Cavanaugh is escorted to the back by HOW officials.
Joe Hoffman: Well I’m not sure what that was about, but get ready, Buff… it looks like we’re ready for our next team of challengers!
Benny Newell: YAWN! Hopefully, they’ll be a bit more challenging that those stupid fucks were. Jesus Christ, that was bad.
Everyone’s attention turns toward the stage.
Gauntlet Match 2
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH! You gotta keep ‘em separated…
Benny Newell: GREAT! Pottywood and David Bla- … wait a second. Where the fuck is Black?
Scottywood appears as equally confused as he walks out alone onto the stage, carrying his trusty barbed-wire hockey stick. Seeing this, a smirk forms across the face of Christopher America, who has quite the storied history with Scotty from their feud in early 2009.
Joe Hoffman: Well I’m not sure of the whereabouts of David Black, but in his absence, I’m getting flashbacks of The Alamo where Scottywood and Christopher America literally annihilated each other over the LSD title.
A resounding chorus of boos rains down on Scottywood as he heads to the ring, confused on whether or not he should wait for his tag team partner. Inside the ring, Black Mamba and Christopher America appear eager to get their hands on the former Tag Team champion, taunting the “Hardcore Artist” as he tries to figure out his best point of entrance. Finally – with still no sign of David Black – Scotty says ‘fuck it’ and slides into the ring, wielding his barbed-wire hockey stick like a madman, only to where a double team ensues to officially start the next Gauntlet match.
Joe Hoffman: Mamba and America are stomping away at Scottywood!
Benny Newell: Ha-ha! I’ll drink to that! Kick him, Ranger! Kick him in his vag!
As the double team continues on Scottywood, a commotion arises in the stands where someone appears to be pushing and forcing his way through the crowd.
Joe Hoffman: Is that-? It is! Finally! Black has arrived to even up the sides!
Hopping over the barricade, David Black watches as Christopher America connects with his ‘For America!’ finisher on Scottywood. But before Black Mamba can feast upon Scotty’s remains, he’s caught from behind by Black, who immediately drops him with his Codebreaker finisher.
Joe Hoffman: ‘Blackout’ on Black Mamba!
Turning to hear what the commotion was, Christopher America walks right into a ‘Blackout’ of his own; the wind escaping his lungs as David drives his knees into his chest.
Joe Hoffman: ‘Blackout’ on America! David Black is cleaning house in this Tag Team title Gauntlet match!
Benny Newell: No! Really, Joe?!? I hadn’t noticed.
Surveying the damage that he’s just caused, Black kneels down next to Scottywood and tries to revive his tag team partner, slapping his cheek of his War Games teammate until Scotty comes back to consciousness. With Christopher America and Black Mamba both slow to their feet, it allows David enough time to assist Scottywood to his, who stumbles and catches himself on the ropes.
Joe Hoffman: Great display of teamwork there by David Black, who is easily one of the dark horses in the War Games match. I’m telling you Benny, he could surprise a few peo- hey! What the-?
No sooner does Joe praise David Black than does he turn on his own tag team partner, swift in executing his third and final ‘Blackout’ of the match, this time on Scottywood.
Benny Newell: Tsk, tsk, tsk. Just chalk this up as yet another failed tag team partner for Scottywood.
Joe Hoffman: Folks, I’m having trouble finding a motive for David’s actions here tonight. He’s just going to abandon his own War Games teammate like that?
Sure enough, Black slides out of the ring and begins walking up the entrance ramp, just in time to avoid any potential retaliation from Christopher America and Black Mamba. Back to his feet, America frowns and does the only thing he really can do at this point… cover Scottywood.
David Black and Scottywood have been eliminated!
Amidst the confusion surrounding Black, a loud eruption of cheers breaks out for Christopher America and Black Mamba, who kicks the lifeless Scottywood out of the ring near the mob of officials standing by.
Joe Hoffman: Don’t look now Benny, but Christopher America and Black Mamba are running this Gauntlet with ease!
Gauntlet Match 3
Having each scored a pin fall in this match, America and Mamba again literally have seconds to catch their breaths before “Phase” by Breaking Benjamin hits the speakers.
Benny Newell: Looks like you spoke a bit too soon, eh there, Joe? Ha-ha! They’re both fucked now!
Suddenly, the already fervent crowd becomes hostile, throwing trash and debris onto the stage where Mark “The Explosive” O’Neal and “Phenomenal” Ryan Faze appear, smirks on each of their faces.
Joe Hoffman: Well folks, let me remind you all that for this night only, Ryan Faze is the General Manager of Mayhem; a position he held for nearly 6 months prior to the beginning of this year.
Benny Newell: And quite honorably, I might add… DRINK!!!
Dressed in his ring gear, Faze sneers as he raises a microphone to his lips; the crowd hushing just enough to allow him to speak over them.
“Phenomenal” Ryan Faze: I know you’re all excited to see me return to my rightful position in HOW… a position I never should have lost in the first place had it not been for that cum-guzzling faggot, Mike Best… but please, hold your applause until after Mark and I win the Tag Team titles.
Nodding to his tag team partner, Ryan takes a moment to soak in the “applause” they are getting from the crowd, which only gets louder thanks to his mockery.
“Phenomenal” Ryan Faze: Thank you… truly… it means a lot to feel appreciated, but at the risk of keeping anyone waiting… AHEM… I’ll make this short and sweet.
With Christopher America and James ‘Black Mamba’ Ranger listening intently from the ring, Faze motions to Mark O’Neal and begins strolling down the entrance ramp, his tag team partner following suit close behind.
“Phenomenal” Ryan Faze: You see… Mark and I were just talking in the back about what we could do to make this match easy… to guarantee we advance in the Gauntlet without even so much as breaking a sweat. But then it hit me… why even bother with crazy, outlandish stipulations when the task at hand itself is barely considered a challenge? So we kept things simple. Oh… hi there, Chris. I didn’t see you standing there in the shadow of the niglet. Tell me… since the ratings of this show have already tanked, what do you think I should do to bring some life back into this show?
Still favoring his testicles, Christopher America leans over the ropes shouting threats in the direction Faze and Mark O’Neal as they slowly approach the ring. Having not taken the ‘niglet’ remark lightly, Black Mamba does the same; all the while Referee Joel Hortega stands before them on the ring apron, stopping them from exiting the squared circle.
“Phenomenal” Ryan Faze: What’s that? Sorry, but I don’t think you’re going to smash my American brain in. I’ll tell you what though, champ… I’ve always admired your enthusiasm. Guys like you and I? We are the future of this company, which is exactly why Mark and I have decided to take great pleasure in beating you at your own game. With respect to your success as the HOFC champion, it’s only fitting that I deem this next match against you and Black Mamba as a Last Man Standing Match!
Joe Hoffman: Whoa! Needless to say, that’s a surprising stipulation decided by one, Ryan Faze, who is clearly taking a risk by choosing to compete in America’s element.
Benny Newell: I just hope these fuckers know what they’re doing…
Climbing up the ring steps and onto the apron, Faze and Mark O’Neal step through the ropes and enter the ring to a heated exchange of words brought on by their opponents. Struggling to restrain the 4 superstars, Referee Joel Hortega shrugs and simply calls for the bell, allowing all hell to break loose inside the ring.
Joe Hoffman: Hard American punches by the HOFC champion! Mamba with a Clothesline on O’Neal! These two have no intention of giving up their momentum in this match!
Tossing Faze to the outside, Christopher America leaps after him over the top rope, connecting with a high-risk American Plancha. Meanwhile, Black Mamba continues to hammer away at Mark O’Neal, using his quickness to evade whatever O’Neal throws at him and turn it into some offense of his own. With the Hall of Famer reeling on his back, James Ranger shoots up to the top rope, much to the delight of the crowd.
Benny Newell: Lookout Mark!
Joe Hoffman: Nobody home!
Fortunate enough to avoid Ranger’s Frog Splash, O’Neal shakes off the dust and begins working on Mamba’s mid-section, stomping away at his ribs causing James to cry out in pain. Slow to his feet, Black Mamba then finds himself on the receiving end of a Spear, which Mark O’Neal delivers with frightening force and execution. Rightfully, this earns some heat from the crowd who has obviously gotten behind Ranger in recent weeks and would like nothing more than to see him succeed.
Benny Newell: Drink to that shit, right there! O’Neal just fucking killed Black Mamba!
Meanwhile, Faze surmounts some offense of his own, turning the tables against America who appears to be getting winded. A series of Fazeplexes on the outside proves to keep America down long enough to allow Faze to expose the cement flooring of the Kallisten Coliseum. Tossing the landing mat aside, Faze calls for his ‘Fazeplant’ Unprettier finisher, all the while Mark O’Neal connects with his ‘Time Bomb” Jacknife Powerbomb inside the ring on James Ranger.
Benny Newell: This is great, Joe! As usual, Team Best members are dominating and just further guarantees what’s bound to happen at War Games.
Joe Hoffman: A point of debate, to be sure Mr. Newell. If one thing is clear, it’s that things aren’t looking good for the team that started this Gauntlet. But remember folks, Last Man Standing rules means that anything can happen over the course of the next few- OH! A SECOND ‘TIME BOMB’ BY O’NEAL!
Perhaps sensing that his tag team partner’s neck and head were just driven into the canvas of the ring, Christopher America amps up his efforts to fight off Faze on the outside.
Benny Newell: A Fazeplant on the cement?!? This could spell the end for- NO! SHIT! Reversal by America!
Joe Hoffman: America hits a desperation ‘For America!’ on Ryan Faze!
Benny Newell: And right into the cement, no less! Fuck me to hell for talking too soon!
With the GM laid out on the cement, Christopher America finds the steel barricade for help and support as he uses it to stagger to his feet. Hearing Joel Hortega already in mid 10-count, America turns to find the referee’s presence looming above him; his thick, Spanish accent forcing him to shudder with each number that is called.
Joel Hortega: …OCHO! …NUEVE! …DIES!
Joe Hoffman: That’s it! America and Mamba have advanced yet again!
Christopher America and James ‘Black Mamba’ Ranger have been eliminated!
Thinking that he’s won, Christopher America goes into a frenzy as this announcement is made unexpectedly. Shouting at Hortega for answers, America finally sees the replay on the HOV showing his tag team partner, James Ranger, unresponsive to the 10-count thanks to the effects of two successive ‘Time Bombs’ by Mark O’Neal.
Benny Newell: Ha-ha, yes! Team Best members advance!
Joe Hoffman: Folks, we are long overdue for a commercial break here on Mayhem. Don’t you dare change the channel as the drama is just beginning to unfold here in the Tag Team title Gauntlet match! We’ll be right back!
As Mayhem heads to commercial, we see Christopher America abandon Black Mamba, furious in his pace up the ramp and clearly angry by the result of the match.
Here’s hoping that a half-naked bitch and a beer will keep you occupied long enough during this extended commercial break.
With enough time allowed for trips to the bathroom, corner store, or 25-cent viewing booth, the cameras liven up backstage to reveal Crow standing by with a guy that cannot be named for legal purposes.
Crow: Generic confirmation of our win tonight.
Anonymous man: Generic confirmation reply.
Anonymous man nods.
Anonymous man: Generic confirmation of future plans after winning the Tag Titles?
Crow: Generic confirmation reply – World title, War Games??
Anonymous man nods.
Crow signals the Tag Team titles are coming around his waist.
Anonymous man nods.
The scene fades generically.
Burn In My Light
Christopher entered his locker room. Before the door could shut, Ethan stormed in with the door slamming against the wall.
Ethan: WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?
Christopher did not look at Ethan.
Ethan: DID YOU HEAR ME, BOY?!?! I SAID WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?
Ethan walked over to Christopher America and spun him around. Rage filled Christopher’s eyes as he burned a hole in Ethan.
Ethan: YOU WERE TO LIE DOWN AND GET PINNED LIKE THE BITCH YOU ARE!!!
Christopher (quitely): getoutofmyface
Ethan: WHAT? WHAT WAS THAT?
Christopher looked down ashamed and attempted to control his anger.
Ethan: NO! WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU SAY TO ME?
Christopher kept his eyes transfixed on the ground. He slowly rose his head up and then connected his eyes with Ethan’s.
Christopher: GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY FACE!
Christopher formed a fist and knocked Ethan squarely in the jaw. Ethan fell back to the floor. He held his jaw and looked up with disbelief at Christopher’s rebellion. Christopher, himself, couldn’t believe it. He looked down at his fist. He twisted it, looking at it from all directions. He then slowly looked at Ethan lying on the ground.
And then it happened.
A sadistic smile crept across Christopher’s face. Ethan began to shake his head furiously as he backed up, crabwalking, out of the door. Without letting the smile slide from his face, Christopher stalked Ethan.
Ethan: I ORDER YOU TO STOP!
Christopher pursued into the hallway.
Ethan: NO! I AM YOUR MASTER! I ORDER YOU TO STOP! NOOOOOOOO!
Christopher grabbed Ethan and pulled him up before slamming his head in the concrete wall. As he fell down, Christopher began to stomp away at Ethan’s limbs. As he did Christopher glanced around. Seeing the food and water table, Christopher grabbed Ethan and hit an American DDT on the concrete floor. With Ethan momentarily incapacitated, Christopher shoved everything off of the table. He went over and picked up a limp Ethan. Christopher hoisted Ethan up for a powerbomb….
and held him there.
Christopher lowered Ethan. Not feeling content, Christopher let Ethan’s body slump to the floor.
Christopher looked around and went over to one of the forklifts parked near one of the receiving doors. Christopher searched and finally found what he was looking for. Filled with gasoline, Christopher took the red gas canister and slithered back to where Ethan lay. He spread the gasoline over the table. As the smell filled his nostrils, Christopher moved over to Ethan and began dousing him in gasoline.
On the floor, Ethan choked and held out his hands in a futile attempt to block the flow of the liquid. Christopher, upset with how slow it was moving out of the canister, popped off the cap and dumped the rest of the contents all over Ethan. Christopher walked over and punched Ethan’s head. Ethan struggled to find a vertical base and tried to determine which of the five Christopher Americas he was seeing is real.
Christopher grabbed one of the butane cooking lighters that fell on the floor during Christopher’s rapid attempt to clear the table. He quickly gets it lit and ignites the table. Christopher drops the lighter and turns his attention back to Ethan. Ethan had gotten to a vertical base and was stumbling away. Christopher moved quickly and grabbed Ethan. He turned him around and began to lead him back.
Ethan’s eyes went wide as he saw the burning table.
Ethan: NO! NO! NOOOOOOOO!!!!
Christopher pulls back Ethan’s head and stares menacingly at him. He leans in close to his ears and whispers with the menace of the devil himself.
Christopher: Bitterness is like a cancer. It eats upon the host. But anger is like fire. It burns it all clean.
Christopher then picks up Ethan and powerbombs him through the table. As the flames get a taste of Ethan’s gasoline stained skin, the tongues of fire lick at his flesh. And as Ethan screams out, Christopher admires his handiwork.
Christopher: Ethan, I told you that you would never take the HOFC Championship away from me. Do you know why? Because I just ensured…. you’ll NEVER BE AT WAR GAMES!
Suddenly, referees and EMTS rush to the scene. Security soon follows pulling at Christopher America.
Ethan: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! IT BURNNNNNNNNNS!!!!!!!
Security continues to pull at Christopher who begins to throw punches, using all of his might to remain as he watches Ethan’s skin burn.
More referees arrive with extinguishers. They unleash the cooling liquid and extinguish the flames on Ethan’s chest and back. Breaking free, Christopher rushes over with fists flailing. Immediately, security rushes over and pulls America away.
America: LET ME GO! I’M GOING TO MAKE HIM PAY! I I WILL MAKE HIM SUFFER!!!
EMT: Get him out of here!
America: BURN, FUCKER! BURNNNNNNN!
Security continues to pull and drag a screaming America away.
Gauntlet Match 4
As the scene cuts back to ringside, Joe Hoffman and Benny Newell – jaws agape in sheer amazement or terror, one of the two – sit in silence as “Phenomenal” Ryan Faze climbs back into the ring. Careful and slow in his pace, Ryan ascends the ring steps with the support of Mark O’Neal, who had helped him come to his senses during the commercial break. Favoring his head – which is now masked with blood thanks to the finisher he took on the cement – the GM calls for a microphone once again as he steps through the ropes; the fans booing but taking pleasure in his misfortune.
“Phenomenal” Ryan Faze: Thanks, Mark… and way to take care of our handy work. Your quickness in doing so will go a long way in preserving our energy at the end of this Gauntlet. With that said, we are unable to stall any longer. Let’s bring out the next two jobbers that we are about to send packing for an early Hawaiian vacation. Only this time, we’re gonna do things a bit flashier like only Team Best knows how. That alright with you, Mark?
Nodding his head to his tag team partner, the “Explosive One” appears eager and ready to continue… perhaps even more so thanks to the considerable and unfair advantage his team employs by the delegation of Ryan Faze.
“Phenomenal” Ryan Faze: Excellent, because I think we’re going to enjoy making these next two fools tap out in a SUBMISSION MATCH! Bring ‘em out, monkeys!
Dropping the microphone with a thud, Faze paces back and forth inside the ring, trying to shrug off and ignore the pain he’s still feeling from the match prior.
Joe Hoffman: Well folks, you heard it from Faze himself. Under Submission match rules, the winning team will advance in the Gauntlet by making a member of the opposing team tap out or submit!
Benny Newell: Thanks for clarifying that, you fucking idiot. Don’t you think we all know what Submission rules are by now?
Joe Hoffman: Just doing my due diligence, Benny…
Benny Newell: Besides, we should be marveling over the fact that Ethan Cavanaugh just got fucking toasted on live TV! Who’s down for some Kentucky Fried Black Man?
A brief delay in the action sees Joe abhor his Hall of Fame broadcast partner until Bloodsimple’s “Dead Man Walking” erupts through the speakers, producing a different Hall of Famer onto the stage alongside a man who certainly has the credentials for consideration.
The sight of Shane Reynolds and Crow is all Faze needs to produce his microphone yet again, snatching it up with purpose as Reynolds and Crow pose amongst cheers on the stage.
“Phenomenal” Ryan Faze: Whoa…whoa…whoa, there, She-mo! You really think I could let you make your entrance and your soon-to-be doomed run at the tag-team championships without saying hi? More importantly, you really think I’d just forgive and forget what you did to me last week?
As Faze goes to continue, Shane Reynolds suddenly holds his hand up which proves to infuriate the General Manager for the night. Revealing a microphone of his own, Shane grins as he speaks into it.
Shane Reynolds: Whoa….whoa…whoa there yourself, buddy. Are you talking about…..this?
For the second time over the course of the evening, the footage of Shane spitting Dr. Thunder into the face of Ryan Faze plays in full glory over the HOV; Faze staring out in full rage as he watches.
“Phenomenal” Ryan Faze: Cut the footage! I said cut the fucking footage, God dammit!
The footage cuts off abruptly, replaced by the image of Shane Reynolds doubled over with laughter.
“Phenomenal” Ryan Faze: Oh, it’s funny, is it? You laugh now Shane, but we’ll see how long that lasts when I tell you that you’ve got your wish.
Faze’s words have as much of a sobering effect on Shane’s good mood as he expected, his face now etched with an expression of confusion.
“Phenomenal” Ryan Faze: Allow me to elaborate. You see, Shane… for weeks now you’ve been running your mouth off at me, even going as far as disrespecting my dead sister, Sabina. Don’t think I’ve forgotten about it Shane, because I’ve been hearing you loud and clear every step of the way… and especially so tonight. Oh, you remember, don’t you? Back when you guaranteed on your Hall of Fame status that I’d fail to win War Games? Such an interesting chip to gamble with… especially on a night where I just happen to be the General Manager…
Smiling with intent, Faze slaps the shoulder of Mark O’Neal, who is just as amused as he is standing next to him in the ring.
“Phenomenal” Ryan Faze: I hate to tell you Shane, but your mouth has officially caught up to you. No matter what happens in this Submission match, you will always remember tonight as the night you gave up the most prestigious honor in our industry today… your precious Hall of Fame status. You want to keep running your mouth? Then please… by all means. Just know that not if, but when you lose War Games, you’ll be kissing your Hall of Fame status goodbye quicker than that pathetic little endorsement deal you have with that disgusting, Wal-Mart brand soda. If you’re even so much as eliminated while I’m still in the match, you lose the status as well. I warned you, Shane… you fucked with the wrong guy. Now somebody… ring this fucking bell so I can make the She-mo tap out!
With the anger and rage now in Shane’s eyes, he sprints down the entrance ramp with his tag team partner; and dives into the ring, right past Matt Boettcher who has since replaced Joel Hortega as the referee.
Benny Newell: Wait a minute… so Reynolds has to wager his Hall of Fame status at War Games?
Joe Hoffman: That appears to be the case, Benny… all thanks to the power of one, Ryan Faze.
Benny Newell: I’m telling you, Joe… the “Phenomenal One” has the making of a legend in this business. Brilliant… fucking brilliant.
Unfortunately for Faze, his “brilliance” proves not to come without cost as Shane hammers away with his fist at Ryan’s wound from the match prior. Next to them, Crow sustains his leverage on Mark O’Neal with a Lou Thesz Press, using it to head-butt the ‘Explosive One’ until he produces a wound that matches his tag team partner’s.
Joe Hoffman: Mark O’Neal has been busted wide open!
With O’Neal blood on his forehead, Crow wipes it away with a sadistic grin before snapping an elbow drop into the sternum of his opponent. Likewise, Shane Reynolds continues his assault on Ryan Faze, striking him with a flurry of punches and kicks that force the “Phenomenal One” to roll away into the corner.
Pleased with the damage he’s inflicted thus far on Faze, Shane assists in the double-teaming of O’Neal, who tries to escape the ring but is denied the chance by his opponents. Pulling him back to the center of the ring, Crow brings the Hall of Famer to his feet, only to drop him back down again with an assist from his tag team partner; a variation of the Dudley Death Drop. The impact of the move itself is enough for Shane to attempt his ‘Broken Wing’ submission finisher, which he applies on Mark O’Neal until Faze breaks it up from behind.
Benny Newell: You cannot deny the chemistry between the members of Team Best. Simply put, they are a far more cohesive team here in HOW than Crow and Reynolds will ever be.
Joe Hoffman: Need I remind you all that this match you are witnessing is showcasing members of both of the respective War Games teams. Right now, the members of Team Aceldama are making things look easy…
In response to the save made by Faze, Crow lunges toward the LSD champion and begins brawling with him. Unfortunately, Team Ace’s momentum proves to be a bit short-lived as Faze jabs a thumb to the eye of the former World champion, digging his nail in as deep as he possibly can. Allowing himself a split-second of freedom, Faze tries for his ‘Fazebuster’ DDT but is negated by Shane Reynolds, who Irish whips O’Neal into his own tag team partner.
Joe Hoffman: Oh! What a huge collision that was!
With Faze and O’Neal laid out on the canvas, Crow and Shane Reynolds look briefly towards each other before delighting the crowd with a Double Springboard Moonsault onto their opponents, hoping its effect will be enough to weaken them to submit. This time, Shane applies the ‘Broken Wing’ on Ryan Faze whereas Crow eyes O’Neal for a submission of his own.
Benny Newell: NO! Quick Faze, change the match! Change the fucking match!
Sadly, Benny’s cries go unheard as Ryan is bleeding and helpless in the grasp of Shane Reynolds. Much to the GM’s good fortunate, however, Mark O’Neal raises a knee to the groin of Crow, doubling him over in pain and allowing the ‘Explosive One’ to lock in a submission next to Reynolds.
Joe Hoffman: Figure Four applied to Crow! I’ve never seen anything like this before, Benny! These teams are side-by-side in a literal race to see who taps out first!
Reluctant to release Ryan Faze, Shane uses every ounce of strength to add extra pressure on his hold, just as Mark does the same on Crow.
Benny Newell: Hold on, Faze! JUST HOLD THE FUCK ON!
With Crow screaming from the pain, Boettcher checks on Ryan Faze, who has oddly gone silent under the same circumstances.
“Phenomenal” Ryan Faze and Mark “The Explosive” O’Neal have been eliminated!
Benny Newell: WHAT?!?!?!?!?
After a few seconds of uncertainty, we find Matt Boettcher trying to pull Shane Reynolds off of his rival, trying to convey that the ‘Phenomenal One’ has passed out and can no longer continue.
Joe Hoffman: Well Faze did not tap out, but this match will go to Shane Reynolds and Crow, who have proven here tonight that they’re as dangerous as they come in HOW.
Benny Newell: Just wait until Faze realizes what happened. He’s going to be fucking pissed!
Joe Hoffman: Regardless, the show must go on as scheduled, and we will do so with this commercial break. Don’t go away folks! We’ll be right back with our next team of challengers!
The footage cuts to commercial with paramedics trying to revive the unconscious General Manager.
WAR GAMES MATCH ALL TITLES HELD ARE ON THE LINE
Aceldama, David Black , Shane Reynolds, Scottywood, Crow and Marcus Reinhardt vs. Simon Sparrow©, Max Kael, Mark O’Neal, ChristPlow© and Ryan Faze©
A MARVELOUS EPIC LADDER MATCH
Mario Maurako vs. Bobbinette Carey
Gauntlet Match 5
The elated faces of Shane Reynolds and Crow bring us back live from commercial break, where fans throughout the arena scurry to find their seats after restroom and concession breaks alike. Trying to keep loose inside the ring, it doesn’t take long for Shane and Crow to find out who their opponents are going to be as “The End is the Beginning of the End” echoes out into the arena.
Although the emergence of Max Kael doesn’t sit too well with the High Octane fans, the Kallisten Coliseum proves to be as loud as it’s been all night as crowd members make a point to boo and jeer the ‘Prime Minister.’
Joe Hoffman: If Max’s arrival is any indication, we’re ready to move forward in this Tag Team title Gauntlet match. With only four teams left, Benny, it’s really getting down to the wire here as we look to crown new Tag Team champions!
Benny Newell: Getting down to the wire? This isn’t the fucking Preakness, Joe. When it’s all said and done, members of Team Best will be the ones walking out with the titles. I mean, Jatt and fucking MPlow? How much more stacked can one team get?
Wandering lazily to the ring, Max stops about half-way down the entrance ramp, sneering and chiding at fans along the aisle way as he awaits his tag team partner. Suddenly, ‘Ego’ by Element Eighty hits the speakers which bring out Mario Maurako onto the stage. An accomplished veteran who’s specialty has always been considered tag team wrestling, Mario meets Max Kael on the ramp, pausing briefly to discuss strategy. As the two confer with each other, Shane Reynolds and Crow slide out of the ring to confront them, greeting the former World Champions with a sling-shot aided Double Clothesline.
Falling to the steel, Mario and Max shield themselves immediately, knowing that Crow and Shane Reynolds will try to take every cheap shot imaginable given the history and rivalry all 4 men share with each other. Fortunately for them, referee Matt Boettcher has already ordered their opponents back to the ring, where they are soon to follow.
Joe Hoffman: Looks like Maurako and Crow will be starting things off in this match.
After a brief exchange of words, Crow charges in Mario’s direction, only to run smack dab into a brick wall. Falling hard to the canvas, Crow nips up quickly ala Shawn Michaels, but falls victim to the ‘Simply Marvelous’ Rock Bottom as he walks right into the awaiting Maurako. Mario applies the cover, but Shane Reynolds is quick to make the save, breaking things up with a Double Axe Handle.
Max, however, is right there too with a cheap shot to Reynolds, followed by a ‘Great Maxi Chop’ that floors Shane, who escapes by rolling to the outside. As opposed to following suit, Kael stays put inside the ring to double-team Crow, despite the constant warnings of referee Matt Boettcher. Finally, Boettcher is able to force Max to his corner, where Mario drags Crow over and just tags him in anyway, just to be a dick like that.
Seeing that Crow’s in trouble, Shane tries to enter the ring but only proves to distract the referee, who fails to witness Max produce a pair of brass knuckles from his tights. Holding Crow by his arm, Mario exposes the ribs of his opponent to allow Max to nail a defining blow; one that forces Crow to cry out in agony as Max quickly tosses the weapon out of the ring. With Boettcher’s attention back on the match, Max applies a lateral press for which Crow barely kicks out after 2.
Joe Hoffman: I suppose this is what happens when you throw two notorious cheaters together into one, ego-driven tag team. Kael with the near fall, but there’s Shane – the ever-present pest that he is – right back with a Belly-to-Belly suplex!
Again, Shane receives warning from Boettcher who threatens to disqualify his team should he continue to disregard the rules. This prompts a chuckle from Kael, who reverts his attention back to Crow as Shane is ordered to his corner once again.
Joe Hoffman: That’s ridiculous! Max and Mario were the ones cheating! Shane was just trying to save his own tag team partner!
Benny Newell: Where’s Faze when you need him? This match would’ve been over five minutes ago!
As Max turns to Crow, he’s met with a surprising Double Spin Neckbreaker; one that’s impactful enough for his opponent to make the cover.
Joe Hoffman: One! Tw-! KICK OUT!
Having used the remainder of his energy on the maneuver, Crow lies motionless next to Max for several moments until both begin to stir. Unfortunately for him, Max proves to be much stronger at the moment and lunges forward, tagging the hand of his long-time nemesis before Crow can get to Shane.
Benny Newell: Hot tag to Mario!
Storming into the ring, Mario blasts Shane Reynolds with a Lariat; one that nearly decapitates the former War Games co-winner who was trying to save his partner yet again. As Max kicks Shane out of the ring, Mario’s eyes widen as he turns to find Crow stalking him. A boot to Mario’s gut means the Crow’s ‘Fallen’ Piledriver is next to follow, but as Crow sets him up for the move, Mario tosses him over with a Back Body Drop.
Joe Hoffman: Tremendous display of strength by Mario Maurako!
Clenching his back in pain, Crow blindly reaches out to what he soon finds to be an empty corner. As Shane brawls with Max into the crowd, Crow appears to know his fate before it even happens, as Mario places him in his Full Nelson finisher submission.
Joe Hoffman: ‘Marvelousity’ on Crow!
Tapping out almost immediately due to exhaustion and lack of relief from this match, Crow is violently tossed to the mat by Mario Maurako, who triumphantly raises his arms in victory.
Crow and Shane Reynolds have been eliminated!
Benny Newell: Haha! The poor fucker didn’t even get a chance to make a tag!
Gauntlet Match 6
No sooner does Mario kick Crow out of the ring than is he AMBUSHED by two men dressed in hooded sweatshirts, both of whom hopped over the barricade from the crowd.
Benny Newell: Big surprise… High Octane Security is asleep at the wheel again!
As the assailants double-team a defenseless, not to mention partner-less Mario Maurako, the hood falls off from one of the men as he delivers a series of German Suplexes to Mario, releasing his grip on the third to reveal none other than Marcus Reinhardt.
Joe Hoffman: It’s Team Aceldama!
Sure enough, the other man proves to be the War Games captain as he scoops up Maurako for his trademark ‘Berlin Express’ gore into the turnbuckles.
Joe Hoffman: By God, where is Max Kael?!? Hopefully, we still have cameras following him and Shane, who may have just as easily gotten lost within the crowd.
As the cameras pan the stands of the arena, the HOV comes to life yet again, this time with the glossy-eyed face of Ryan Faze. Having recently been revived back into consciousness, Faze appears to stagger before the camera until a snap of Mark O’Neal’s fingers brings him back into focus. Additionally, it serves to divert the attention of both Reinhardt and Aceldama away from Maurako and onto the screen.
“Phenomenal” Ryan Faze: AHEM! Hey Wolfgang… up here, you fucking douchebag! Listen… as the General Manager of this program, I can’t just sit back and watch you and that mutt of yours wail away on a former World champion. In fact, if you continue to harass Mr. Maurako without the presence of his tag team partner, I’ll have no other choice but to disqualify you from this Gauntlet…
Ace and Reinhardt look to each other, as if to decide if the beatdown of Mario Maurako is really worth getting disqualified for. After a few moments, they look back to Faze on the HOV and then to Mario, whom they grab by the arms, dragging him up to his feet.
“Phenomenal” Ryan Faze: Ah, ah, ah! I’d be careful there, boys… after all, as General Manager of this program, it is my duty…
Unexpectedly, Ryan pauses, looking as if he was purposefully holding his words. Suddenly, we see the reason for his delay as HOW Hall of Famer Maximillian Kael inevitably returns to ringside; his hair a disheveled mess after what we can only assume to be a hellacious encounter with Shane Reynolds.
“Phenomenal” Ryan Faze: …and it is my privilege, Ace and Marcus…
Again, Faze draws out his words… this time, to allow Max to crawl behind his opponents and under the ring, where he retrieves a Maxipotamian Golf Club as his weapon of choice.
“Phenomenal” Ryan Faze: …to ensure that both of you are FUCKED going into the pay-per-view.
Loosening their grip on Mario Maurako, Aceldama and Marcus Reinhardt appear flustered by the words of Ryan Faze, who grins widely watching Max sneak into the ring behind them, golf club in hand.
“Phenomenal” Ryan Faze: And that is why your match… is now a FIRST BLOOD MATCH! Boettcher… ring the damn bell!
Joe Hoffman: By God, this is sick… just SICK. A blatant abuse of power by “Phenomenal” Ryan Faze in favor of his Team Best cohort, Max Kael!
As soon as the bell sounds, Max Kael cocks back his Maxipotamian 3-wood and cracks Aceldama in the back of his head, knocking him immediately to the floor. Spinning around in surprise, Marcus Reinhardt receives a shot to the forehead as well; one that produces a miniscule trickle of blood that thankfully goes unseen by Matt Boettcher as Reinhardt is quick to cover it up. Rolling to the outside, Marcus checks the injury nearly a dozen times before concluding that the blood has stopped.
Returning to the ring, he finds Mario Maurako staggering to his feet, still in a considerable amount of pain from the attack only moments prior. Charging forward, Marcus dives to tackle Mario, only to run face-first into the steel-toed boot of one, Max Kael. Again, Reinhardt covers his forehead as Boettcher is quick to check for blood, but this time, finds none as he just reels in pain from the kick.
Slow to his feet, Aceldama uses the ropes and the distraction to pull himself up. Favoring his head, he spins around to meet Max face-to-face, who is cackling hysterically with his now-mishapen golf club. With the club head still attached, Max attempts to drive it once again into the head of Aceldama, who catches Max by the arm and stops him mid-strike.
Horrified by this, Max desperately tries to squirm his way out of the former World champion’s grip, but Ace proves too strong, forcing Max into a choke with his free hand.
Joe Hoffman: CHOKESLAM ON KAEL!
Before Aceldama can follow up though, he’s spun around from behind by Mario Maurako, who flips Aceldama the bird before hitting his ‘Road to Maurako’
Joe Hoffman: Pump Handle Slam by Maurako!
With no blood lost by Aceldama, Mario turns his attention to Marcus Reinhardt, who is still favoring his head in pain from Max’s boot. With devilish intentions, Mario grabs him by his head, only for Marcus to vigorously break free. Snapping to his feet, Reinhardt connects with several stiff right fists before signaling for his ‘Rabid Redemption’ finisher; a rolling, high-impact cutter that Mario breaks free from and sends him packing with a Clothesline.
Suddenly, Mario finds himself to be the only one left standing in the ring as he’s surrounded by the bodies of Reinhardt, Ace, and his tag team partner, Max Kael; all of whom are stirring on the mat trying to will themselves to their feet.
Finally, Mario lends Max a hand, who offers not a thank you to Mario, but an impatient glare for not having ended the match already. Confused, Mario questions his tag team partner, who ignores him in producing yet another pair of brass knuckles from his tights. Securing them onto his hand, Max smiles his trademark toothy grin as he stalks behind Reinhardt, blasting him over his forehead yet again to finally open the wound fully.
Back to his feet, Aceldama finds himself seconds too late in helping his tag team partner as Boettcher calls for the bell upon the sight Reinhardt’s crimson mask.
Marcus Reinhardt and Aceldama have been eliminated!
Joe Hoffman: So that’s it, Benny! We’ve only got one team left in the Gauntlet!
Benny Newell: ::snoring sounds:::
Joe Hoffman: We’ll be right back, folks, after a word from our sponsors!
As the title suggests, it’s go big or go home with the Tag Team titles up for grabs, up next!
America’s Most Wanted
Action quickly returns backstage where we see HOW security forces surrounding Christopher America who is sitting in a chair with his head down looking mentally exhausted.
“Is that any way for my favorite American to look…”
America looks up at the source of those words and sees the owner of High Octane Wrestling, the GOD of HOW himself, Lee Best staring back at him.
The sight of the owner is no cause of celebration however and America dismisses Lee and actually waves him off.
Suddenly Lee crouches in front of America and grabs him by the chin and America is too shocked to physically respond as Lee holds his face directly in front of his.
“Quit being fucking pathetic….what you did earlier is what I want to see around here…..I am tired of all this PATHETICNESS…..you showed fucking balls and I came down here to reward you for that …but if you want to sit here and fucking mope…so be it.”
Lee lets go of America’s face and stands up and starts to walk away..
Smiling, Lee turns back towards America who is now standing up and it is now Christopher who walks up and gets in Lee’s face and stares down the owner of HOW.
America: What do you got in mind…and more importantly why me?
Lee Best: You have the best wrestling mind in the company and you have the desire to be the best where some of these fucksticks would rather rest on past laurels….you are going to be a huge star America…and it starts at War Games.
Before Lee can continue America interrupts him…” I am NOT helping you against Mamba that mother-“ Lee smacks America across the face..
“I don’t NEED YOU for Mamba you idiot. My match with him is going to be a NO DQ match and trust me..I won’t need your services…but if you ever…EVER interrupt me again I will fire your ass on the spot and you won’t have a shot to defend your HOFC title at War Games…let alone ever AGAIN”
America is confused now..
“Ethan is not going to be able to make it to War Games??”
Without answering Lee starts to walk away leaving America unsure of what is up the owner’s sleeve. He is about to give up on the cause when Lee stops in his tracks and turns around towards America and tosses him a T-shirt.
America catches it and looks at the front of it and it’s the official War Games T-shirt. He looks up at Lee who is motioning for him to turn the shirt around which America obliges.
“You serious???, America asks incredulously.
Lee Best: Damn right I am…I had those printed up last night and I am glad my gut is always right…welcome to Team Best…do not let me down”
Before America can reply, Lee walks off and we see a final image of America smiling ear to ear holding the War Games Shirt….its official.
Christopher America is going to Pearl Harbor as a member of Team Best.
Come on BABY, Light My Fire!
As surprised and shocking as the revelation is to the announcers, the camera quickly cuts backstage, into the locker room of ICON Champion MPlow. The victim of a vicious assault at the hands of Chris Kostoff earlier in the night, he has holed himself up in a nearly fortified state. A book case has been pushed against the door to the locker room, along with a large chair crooked against the doorknob. Most of his entourage is absent, probably at his own choice– the only people in the room are Ryan, ChristPlow, and the two members of the Best Image Consultants.
ChristPlow sits practically in the fetal position, his knees pulled against his chest against the Kevlar vest he has now put back on. In his shaking hands, he holds his loaded 9mm handgun. The room is eerily silent, until everyone in the room jumps at a knock at the door.
ChristPlow: Anyone answers it and I swear to God, I’ll fucking shoot you myself.
No one in the room budges, with the entire crew simply staring at the door. ChristPlow continues to shake, this time a little harder.
*Knock Knock Knock*
Darren: I’m answering it. Fucking coward.
The large black man reaches into his jacket, producing a much larger handgun than the one in the hands of the ICON Champion. With a sneer, he moves the chair and book case out of the way, swinging the door open. Before Darren can say a word, ChristPlow screams at the top of his lungs, pointing his gun at the doorway and firing off a blind shot. The bullet nicks the doorway, sticking into the wooden frame and thankfully not injuring anyone. Ryan practically jumps out of his own pants, along with the rest of the people present in the room.
Darren: FUCK kid, are you stupid? It’s one of the production assistants, holy shit.
ChristPlow: Fuck you, Darren. Fuck you a thousand times. Where the fuck were you when I was getting RUTHLESSLY assaulted in the parking lot, by a fucking MAD MAN, huh?! It’s your fucking JOB to protect me! FUCK!
The production assistant in the doorway swallows hard, taking a step backward. He barely leans his head in to speak softly.
Assistant: Uh, Mr. Plow– I– I– I think you should probably turn on the news. Your match is next, by the way.
Quickly, the assistant scampers off. Darren begins to chuckle, shaking his head at the terrified white boy in the Kevlar vest.
Darren: Pussy. Shooting at an assistant. Some ICON Champion…
Ignoring the hired help, ChristPlow reaches down and picks up the television remote. With a few clicks, he changes the channel on the muted television over to the news…
Reporter: …live from a site that is no stranger to controversy in the city of Chicago. The building you see behind me caught fire just a half hour ago, but very quickly spiraled into what can only be described as an inferno. Firefighters are on the scene of the former Chicago Women’s Clinic, which was recently purchased by the highly controversial wrestling company High Octane Wrestling. The building was believed to be a part of a distasteful WRESTLING angle, one which had the city of Chicago in an uproar from both Pro-Life and Pro-Choice citizens who believed that a mockery was being made out of the sensitive subject of abortion.
ChristPlow stares at the television, his eyes wide and his mouth agape. Tears practically well up in his eyes, as he stares at the television screen. The ChristPlow House of Abortions and Assisted Fetal Suicide is burning, flames shooting from the windows of the small one story building. Firefighters are fighting the flames, but they are fighting a very losing battle– this fire was set quite intentionally, and it was set very well.
Reporter: Several eyewitnesses at the scene say that a very large, blonde haired man was seen leaving the building after operating hours, around the time the fire began. No clues to his identity are being revealed by police at this time, but arson is now believed to be the cause of the blaze. No one was hurt, thankfully, but it is highly unlikely that the building is going to be saved. Fire Chief Greg Danielson says that at this point, the firefighter’s prime objective is simply to make sure that the fire does not spread to neighboring buildings. The Chicago Women’s Clinic, founded in 1996, was primarily a place for–
MPlow presses the power button, turning the television off as he sits silently for a moment. Ryan lowers his head, and even Darren turns off his sarcastic grin for a moment as they look upon the defeated champion. After what seems like an eternity of silence, ChristPlow whips his head forward, throwing the remote as hard as he can at the television set. The screen splinters like a car windshield, as the remote shatters into pieces. Uncomfortably, the remaining people in the room step backward as ChristPlow stands up from his chair, ripping off the Kevlar vest and storming from the locker room to head toward the entrance way.
Joe Hoffman: Main Event. Tag Team Titles. NEXT! Don’t go away!
WAR GAMES MATCH ALL TITLES HELD ARE ON THE LINE
Aceldama, David Black , Shane Reynolds, Scottywood, Crow and Marcus Reinhardt vs. Simon Sparrow©, Max Kael, Mark O’Neal, ChristPlow©, Ryan Faze©, and Christopher America©
A MARVELOUS EPIC LADDER MATCH
Mario Maurako vs. Bobbinette Carey
Gauntlet Match FINAL
Back from the final commercial break of the night, the glass case holding the HOW Tag Team titles is shown once again as images of the final two Gauntlet teams are displayed on the HOV. With Kael and Maurako already in the ring catching their breath, the sudden eruption of “Jesus Freak” by DC Talk hits the speakers, jolting the fans out from their seats to boo the ICON champion Mike Best.
Joe Hoffman: So much has happened here tonight and it all comes down to this final Gauntlet match! Benny, you still with me over here?
Benny Newell: Mmwah… hmm… HUH? Hey, it’s ChristPlow! What the fuck is he doing out here? Shouldn’t he be recovering from the beating earlier on by the Kostoffs?
Joe Hoffman: No, Buff… he’s a part of the LAST team of the Gauntlet; obviously hand-selected by Lee to participate last with Jatt Starr, given the circumstances and all.
Benny Newell: Fuck, that’s right! How long have I been out?
Joe Hoffman: At least a few segments. Thankfully, we were at commercial when you started randomly serenading Bethany Sparrow. Anyways, I’m being told in my earpiece by General Manager Ryan Faze that this match will be called straight up. Apparently, he had planned to serve as the Special Guest Referee until the outcomes left us with two Team Best teams standing… not to mention the splitting headache and possible concussion he’s suffering under from his match earlier on.
Stopping short of the ring, ChristPlow appears riled up as he waits for his tag team partner. Suddenly, ‘Everybody Wants You’ by Billy Squier hits the speakers for the High Octane World Champion, who emerges onto the stage with his wife, Bethany Sparrow. Dressed in his trademark black and gold ring gear to match the HOW World title around his waist, Jatt approaches MPlow with caution despite having “bonded” with him throughout the week. Suitably, Jatt checks on MPlow after his run-in with Chris Kostoff and Plow confirms he’s ready to fight. With that said, both men slides into the ring simultaneously; the heat they are getting from the crowd literally burning the Kallisten Coliseum rooftop at the seams.
Joe Hoffman: Max and Mario or Jatt and MPlow? Who’s it going to be, Benny?
Benny Newell: Uhhh… ask me in ten minutes after the match has already started.
Joe Hoffman: Fair enough. Regardless of who is considered the favorite, the winners of this match will walk out of here with Tag Team gold strapped around their waists.
Dutifully, Matt Boettcher checks for weapons, removing a handful of remaining items from the trunks of Max Kael before calling for the bell.
Joe Hoffman: Mike Best and Mario Maurako with a tie-up… Mario spins around with a hammerlock but a reversal by MPlow puts the Tag Team division veteran on his heels.
Wrenching the arm of Maurako, Plow pushes him violently towards the ropes which causes Mario to look back with fury. Rising to his feet, Mario jaw-jacks with Mike before slapping him square across the face.
Benny Newell: Mario damn-near left an imprint of his hand on the face of the Prophet of Profits!
Fueled with rage, Plow turns back to his opponent and fires a slap of his own at Mario, who blocks the move with his arm and delivers a hard right shot to the bridge of Plow’s nose. Favoring his nose in pain, Plow takes a few steps backward, unaware that he’s stepped within the reach of Max Kael. Reaching out to MPlow, Kael grabs the shoulder of the ICON champion and forces him down hard onto the mat.
Joe Hoffman: Once again, great teamwork by Mario and Max here, who have proven without a shadow of a doubt that they deserve to be in the final Gauntlet match.
Benny Newell: Yes, but how much do they have left in their tanks having already gone through Crow and Shane Reynolds… and who else was it again?
Joe Hoffman: Ace and Marcus Reinhardt… I think that’s the one you fell asleep in.
Benny Newell: Gotcha! DRINK!!!!!
Kicking his feet in pain, MPlow watches from the mat as Mario tags the hand of Max. Quickly, Mario holds the legs of the ICON champion, allowing the new legal man to take his shots. Again, the steel-toed boot of Kael plays its role as Max punts it into the nether regions of Michael Best.
Benny Newell: OW! Even I could feel that low blow!
Ignoring a fair warning by Matt Boettcher, Kael scoops up Plow before he smashes him over his knee, targeting his already bruised ribs. Slow to his feet in pain – perhaps because of the earlier attack by Kostoff – Mplow notices Max coming at him for his ‘Singularity’ finisher; a move he’s lucky enough to avoid and make the hot tag to Jatt Starr.
Benny Newell: Here we go, Hoffman! An encounter we’ve been waiting to see for years! I think I just creamed my pants!
Much to Benny’s chagrin, Max appears not to notice his bitter enemy and slaps the shoulder of Maurako, who enters the ring to confront his former Starrvivor:Maruarko! teammate.
Joe Hoffman: Both of these men in the ring right now are no stranger to tag team wrestling, as both have shared success with each other and other numerous partners throughout their wrestling careers.
Raising his arm out to Jatt, Mario appears as if he’s calling for a tie-up when in fact, he Short-Arm Clotheslines Starr upon the champion taking his hand. Nervous at ringside, Bethany Sparrow watches as her husband takes a series of vicious chops and slaps to the chest, turning it bright red in color. Snickering at Jatt’s misfortune from his corner outside the ring, Max is lucky enough to avoid the the lunging Clothesline from Starr, who spins back around from his momentum and right into a Bear Hug by Mario.
Gripping the World champion tightly, Max giddily watches as Jatt gets worn down by Mario. After nearly a minute and a half of the move, Mario grows tired himself and releases Jatt Starr, but not before inflicting a considerable amount of damange on the World Champion. It’s with this that we have our first pin fall of the match… a 1 and a half count, maybe less considering the resiliency of the Ruler of Jattlantis.
Benny Newell: Kick out by Jatt Starr! No way they go down that easily, Joe!
Realizing this himself, Mario lifts Jatt Starr into the air for an impressive Gorilla Press Slam, dropping Starr’s body on the mat with a BOOM as the fans watch every move intently, knowing this is a historic match.
As Jatt reels on the canvas, Mario toys with the Hall of Famer, using the tip of his boot to gently kick him around until an enraged MPlow takes out his knee. Scurrying back to his corner at the admonishment of Matt Boettcher, MPlow allows his partner enough time to recover as Jatt desperately lunges forward, slappin the palm of the ICON champion.
Joe Hoffman: Hot tag to Plow… ducks under a clothesline from Mario, MPlow off the ropes…NO! Cheap shot by Kael that the referee didn’t see! As MPlow drops to the floor, Mario smirks as he approaches him, intent on ending the match sooner rather than later. With Plow in his grasp, Maurako calls for his ‘Red Scare’ move that gets some cheers and support from the crowd, who are appreciative of Mario’s efforts here tonight. Unfortunately, the quickness of Mike Plow gets the better of the Marvelous One who finds himself at risk of the ‘Christ Effect’. Luckily for Mario, the sneaky Max Kael slips behind with his ‘Singularity’ Lightning Spiral finisher; canvassing MPlow to the floor before Jatt can chase him off. Fortunately Max’s elusiveness allows him to retreat from Starr, leaving Mario in the ring with a laid out ICON champion.
Benny Newell: This could be it, Joe! FUCK! We could have new Tag Team champions right here!
Joe Hoffman: Mario… going to the top rope?!?!?! I heard rumors that he’d revisit a maneuver from his past but didn’t think he’d actually consider doing in the actual match!
Benny Newell: LOOKOUT MIKE!
Joe Hoffman: MAURAKO ROCKER!
Connecting with the Frog Splash, Mario hooks the leg of Plow who is unable to answer to the 3-count.
Jatt Starr and Mike Best have been eliminated!
Benny Newell: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!
Bryan McVay: Here are your winners… and NEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWW High Octane Tag Team Champions… MAX KAEL… AND MARIO MAURAKO!!!
As Mayhem is going off the air, the camera zooms in closely on Mario, who rolls to his back in exhaustion as the HOW Tag Team championships are presented to him by Matt Boettcher. Slipping back into the ring, Maximillian Kael snatches away one of the titles, holding it close to his chest in a childish manner, as if to say ‘MINE!’ Having successfully checked this Tag Title victory off of his infamous ‘list’, Max ignores Mario’s out-stretched hand and instead BLASTS him over the head with his title as opposed to helping him to his feet.
Joe Hoffman: Hey! The man just helped you win the Tag Team titles and THAT is how you thank him?!?!?
With the crowd booing rabidly, MPlow comes to his own and sees what has happened, joining Max in on the ‘fun’ by laying the boots to the man that pinned him.
Joe Hoffman: Come on! This is truly unnecessary!
On the outside, Jatt Starr seems to agree as he begins walking up the entrance ramp with contempt, refusing to help Max in any way shape or form as he meets his wife half-way.
Benny Newell: Lookout, Jatt! The Nazis are coming!
Before the World champion can realize it though, it’s too late as Team Aceldama storms down the ramp in full force, sans the outsted Scottywood. Tackling Starr with aggression, Aceldama and the World Champion roll back down towards the ring, punching and clawing at each other while the rest of his team gangs up on Kael and Plow.
Suddenly, Lee Best himself leads the rest of HIS team out from the back as Ryan Faze, Mark O’Neal, and the newest member, Christopher America all take part in the literal Mayhem. Climbing into the ring, Lee begins to bark orders at his team members until suddenly, something strange happens…
Joe Hoffman: The lights! Something happened to the lights!
Benny Newell: Blame Hitler, Joe! Hide!
With the entire arena in a mass state of confusion, the HOV flickers with life as a dark silhouette appears on the screen.
Benny Newell: Huh? Will somebody tell me what the fuck is going on!
Finally, a voice speaks… a deep, sadistic voice that does not go unheard by all of the War Games participants. With their attention half on the HOV and half on tearing each other apart, it becomes clear who this voice belongs to.
“I have dwelled in the shadows long enough…”
Joe Hoffman: What is that supposed to mean? What’s going on here?
“…prepare for the RESURRECTION!”
Just as soon as these words are spoken, a blast of pyro sends shockwaves throughout the arena, bringing the houselights back on as “The Curse” by Disturbed begins playing over the speakers.
Benny Newell: Is that… GRAYSTONE?!?
With all of the Team Best members laid out, Lee Best looks on in horror as Graystone approaches him, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and tossing him over the top rope with ease. Soon thereafter, he produces as microphone to give Lee the unfortunate news that is probably the last thing he wanted to hear heading into the pay-per-view.
Graystone: I… am on Team Aceldama. I… am the final member of War Games!
With the footage already running long, the transmission fades to black as Lee’s team members rally around him in shock.