Monday Night Mayhem
September 2nd, 2009 – #HOW75
Frank Erwin Center, Austin, TX
The HOTv logo fades out and is briefly replaced by the electric blue Monday Night Mayhem banner before the feed cuts LIVE to the ring. We immediately zoom in on the face of General Manager Ryan Faze, who stands tall wearing a fine Armani suit amongst a deafening shower of boos from the Austin, Texas crowd. The walls of the recently repaired Frank Erwin Center appear to shake as his cocky smirk widens and the booing comes louder and louder.
Faze: Rednecks and hillbillies… WELCOME to a special Wednesday edition of Monday Night Mayhem!!
Rick Fantastic: Hey! Aren’t we supposed to be doing the introductions?
Chastity Gold: Well Rick, it appears that General Manager Faze will be handling that duty here tonight. Remember folks, rumors of his firing and replacement have been surfacing on HOWrestling.com since this earlier this afternoon…
Rick Fantastic: This could be his last night on Mayhem!
Faze gleefully basks in the crowd’s disdain as the booing slowly, but surely drowns out to a silenced hush as he raises the microphone to his lips.
Faze: Let’s get right down to business, shall we? Since I know you’re all salivating at the possibility of me being fired here tonight…
In an instant, the mention of Faze being fired has the Austin fans on their feet and cheering, shouting performance-related slurs at the controversial GM.
Faze: …oh, you’d love it wouldn’t you?
The cheers become louder until Faze’s smirk turns to a spiteful frown.
Faze: What the hell is wrong with you people?!? Don’t you imbeciles realize what kind of economy we’re in today? I’d bet half of you in attendance here tonight used your welfare or unemployment checks just to be able to afford your tickets when you should be feeding your children!
Beyond agitated, Faze turns his attention back to the task at hand after exerting an intended sigh of frustration.
Faze: Yet you cheer for a man to be fired? The same man that you once supported as members of my “Phenomenal Fan Nation”?!?
Chastity Gold: Remember that Faze was once a fan favorite here in HOW…
Rick Fantastic: Despite his brief career in the ring, he was one of the most-supported and most-liked wrestlers of all time before Michael DeNucci put the rising star out of commission and ended his wrestling career.
Faze: The same man that defeated Christopher America for the LSD championship and extinguished the heat that he created for himself in the HOW locker room? The same man that since winning the title, has single handedly made that division the hottest division in all of HOW?
Chastity Gold: Oh come on! That’s can certainly be debated! Just look at the heat that Issac Slade and Aceldama created for the World Title… look what Max Kael and Shane Reynolds did for the ICON…
Rick Fantastic: Chaz, PLEASE just shut up and look pretty…
As Faze continues with his “accomplishments”, the fans grow increasingly impatient. One fan with a ringside seat even tosses the folding chair he was sitting on in Faze’s direction before he is immediately and forcefully removed from the Frank Erwin Center by Matteo, the eldest Maurako and an unknown guard of Elite Protection Unit.
Faze: The same man…
Faze grins as the fan is being whisked away, and purposefully provides us with a pause for dramatic effect.
Faze: The same man that will NOT… I repeat… will NOT be fired tonight. The same man that will NOT be replaced!
Rick Fantastic: What?!? You’re kidding me right?!? I thought for sure that Faze was getting the axe!
Chastity Gold: Rumors have been heavy all week and Faze apparently just put them all to rest.
Faze: I mean… you really didn’t think I was getting fired did you? Because if you did, well, I guess that’d be typical of a dumb-fuck Texan. Seriously… about the only good thing about Austin is the fact I’ll be heading to West 6th St. after the show for some guaranteed college ass. I’m talking about hundreds of Grade-A, barely legal women that are so desperate for a dick to ride, that I’ll need to take a redeye out to Tempe just to make the next show on time.
Faze sneers at Chastity Gold, who does her best not to show her disgust for the Mayhem General Manager.
Rick Fantastic: I know West 6th like I know the back of my hand… hit me up on your way out Faze!
Faze: So with that out of the way… sit back, relax, and enjoy the rest of the show! Because tonight, you’ll not only see a stacked card full of the best competitors that HOW has to offer, you’ll see Joseph Gregory get down on his hands and knees and beg me for an LSD title shot. Remember Spook… you’ve got til the end of the show to prove your desperation. The clock is ticking…
As Faze flips the microphone into the air, “Phase” by Breaking Benjamin kicks in as the HOV displays Joseph Gregory watching the footage backstage in disgust.
Chastity Gold: You heard it folks… an LSD title shot looms in Joseph Gregory’s future as long as he can PROVE his desperation for the opportunity to General Manager Faze. I don’t know about you Rick, but in my eyes, Joseph’s earned that right already, having been one of our most consistent performers since before Capitol Punishment.
Rick Fantastic: You bring up a good point there… let’s just hope he doesn’t reduce himself to his hands and knees simply to appease Ryan Faze.
Chastity Gold: Don’t go away folks… we’re just getting started here on this Wednesday edition of Monday Night Mayhem!
First Bottle cap Removed!
Back from commercial break, the camera catches General Manager Faze walking back to his office. As he enters the room, a puzzled look appears on his face as he, to his surprise, finds the LSD Championship title belt laying on his desk.
??: Take it.
Faze immediately turns in the direction where the voice came from, coming face to face with the LSD Champion himself, who was standing behind him, leaning against the wall.
David Black: Go ahead… take it. It’s what you want, isn’t it?
Faze raises his eyebrow about to say something, but David beats him to the punch.
David Black: Of course, if you do… you damn sure better be prepared to live with the consequences.
Faze: What the hell is this about?
David Black: What’s this about? It’s about people understanding their place RYAN!
There is a momentary pause as Faze and Black stare each other down, Faze visibly surprised by the tone in David’s voice.
David Black: You see, I thought we had an understanding. But apparently, you have been popping too many pills lately, cause your head is messed up.
David reaches over, grabs the LSD title belt and holds it up in front of the General Manager’s face.
David Black: THIS… is not your title! This is not our title! This is MY title! You wanna change that? Then you bring your sorry ass out of retirement and step up! I’ll put you down just like I have everyone else.
Faze: Just who in the hell do you think you are?!?
David smirks as he places the LSD title over his shoulder.
David Black: I’m the guy putting my life on the line for this very title… while you’re sitting back here in your office jacking off and playing make-believe!
Faze: You listen here you little-
David Black: You shut your mouth!
Faze, still shocked and clearly pissed off, surprisingly does stop talking.
David Black: Ever since we made our little alliance, I have done nothing but live up to my end of the deal. I promised you that Christopher America would not become LSD Champion, and I delivered. I said that I.. I would take this title to new heights, and I have delivered. And we both know why I was booked in a handicap match against Issac Slade! We both know what you wanted to happen that night, and if Silent Witness hadn’t showed up… HOW would be Issac Slade free right now.
Faze: Is there a point to all of this?
David Black: The point is that I have more than held up my end of the deal. So I never wanna hear you question or doubt me ever again! What you did last week? If that happens again… I’ll take you out myself.
David Black: And one more thing! You need to make a decision Faze… either we have an understanding, or we don’t. But let me make clear that I’m not gonna be your bitch! I’m not gonna be your obedient little lapdog! If you’re looking for your own personal Kirsta Lewis, then find somebody else, ‘cause I’m not it!
There is a cold stare down between the current and former LSD champions.
David Black: Your move…
Faze: Are you done?
David nods slightly, prompting Faze to snarl and come nose-to-nose with the man he’s been “living through” since a career-ending knee injury forced him into retirement.
Faze: I’ll be honest David… you’ve got balls. You’ve got balls thinking you can come into my office uninvited and confront me like this! Do you realize I could strip you of your precious little title at the drop of a dime and take your “life” away, as you like to call it?
Fearless, David offers no expression to indicate that Faze’s threat means anything to him. He simply stands still.
Faze: Alright, look… our understanding is clear. But don’t think I’m doing you any more favors by letting you walk into Rumble at the Rock 2 unscathed. No more defending your title against jobbers like Jason Midnight… in fact… you’ll be defending the LSD title next week on Turmoil…
Rick Fantastic: David Black on Turmoil?!? Against who?!?
It’s David’s turn to raise an eyebrow, as Faze backs off a bit and grins from ear to ear as he reveals Black’s opponent.
Faze: You’ll be defending it against someone you know quite well, I might add. That’s right… you’ll be going one-on-one with your old pal BOBBINETTE CAREY!!!
Chastity Gold: Bobbinette Carey vs. David Black! WOW is that a huge match!
David Black shoots Faze a glare, expressing his displeasure for the announcement before he coldly turns away to exit Ryan’s office.
Rick Fantastic: You heard it here first ladies and gentlemen… the former allies from the Knights of Epicness, Team Epic, or whatever the hell stable you want to call it, will square off on Turmoil with the LSD championship on the line!
Scottywood vs. Silver Phoenix
The camera shoots back to ringside, where Rick and Chastity continue to eagerly hype the match just announced for next week’s TNT.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHH!!! You gotta’ keep ‘em separated…
Disturbed’s “Stricken” as Scottywood, the “Hardcore Artist” appears from backstage wielding his barbed wire hockey stick for the opening bout of the night. Chastity reminds everyone that this contest will be contested under Hardcore rules per Scottywood’s contract, while Silver Phoenix makes his entrance.
Coming off a convincing win over Gregory Orion Daniels last week, Phoenix displays his acrobatics by leaping onto the ring apron with ease as Scottywood appears unfazed by his arrival. Referee Romeo Ward calls for the bell and the action begins in Scottywood’s favor as he uses his experience to gain the early leverage on Silver Phoenix. However, thanks to the fans encouragement, Phoenix is quickly able to turn the tables and duck Scottywood’s attempt to hit him with the barbed wire hockey stick. A swift DDT from the high flyer has Scottywood on his heels as Phoenix follows up by using Scotty’s own weapon against him.
Rick Fantastic: Phoenix leaping up to the top rope and it looks like he may be able to capitalize here…
Chastity Gold: ALL OR NOTHING!
Silver Phoenix’s lands his Corkscrew Plancha perfectly, taking the wind right out of Scottywood’s sails.
Rick Fantastic: This could be a huge upset!
Phoenix scrambles to cover Scottywood as Romeo Ward is already in position.
DING ~ DING ~ DING!
Kimber Marshall: Here is your winner in 3:03… SILVER PHOENIX!!!
Chastity Gold: Wow! HUGE win for Phoenix here and rightfully so… he’s been on a roll the past 2 weeks and seems to have turned the corner since he lost out in that Hardcore Elimination match.
Rick Fantastic: How about that? The youngster showing Scottywood of all people a little thing or two about Hardcore wrestling… I think Phoenix may have found his niche here in HOW.
Chastity Gold: Perhaps so… alright folks, don’t you move a muscle, as we’ll be right back with more action here on Wednesday Night… err… Monday Night Mayhem!
LSD TITLE MATCH
David Black defends his Championship against Bobbinette Carey!
Gregory Orion Daniels vs. Johnny Otaku
Back from break, the HOV recaps footage of the match between Johnny Otaku and Gregory Orion Daniels; two relative newcomers to HOW that are looking to make a name for themselves heading into RATR2.
Chastity Gold: OTAKU DRIVER!
Rick Fantastic: That’s got to be it! GOD is down and GOD is out…
DING ~ DING ~ DING!
Kimber Marshall: Here is your winner in 2:26… JOHNNY OTAKU!!!
The camera turns its attention back to Rick and Chastity at ringside, who are flanked by two Elite Protection Unit members that are obviously Italian and have been hired personally by Mario Maurako.
Rick Fantastic: Mmm… tacos. Does Austin have Taco Bell?
Chastity Gold: Oh stop it… that was an impressive victory there for Johnny Otaku and all you can think about is that dog food that they call ground beef from, pardon my French… Taco Hell?!?
Rick Fantastic: Hey… I met my first wife at Taco Bell!
Chastity Gold: Oh, so that makes it better, right? Moving on…
“Hunt You Down” by Saliva hits and The Maurako Family emerges from the curtain, one-by-one, sporting their newly awarded HOW Tag Team Titles.
Chastity Gold: …oh wonderful…
Again, Mario is wearing the red title, Matteo the white, Martino the lime, and Mosé is sporting the new Italian Flag strapped title which recently replaced the American Flag belt. The youngest Maurako also holds some sort of remote control as the crowd boos furiously as the historic wrestling family approaches the ring and climbs inside. Martino steps forward with the microphone as the crowd dies down.
Martino Maurako: It’s been said that Texas is full of steers and queers. But let me just point out to you tonight that I don’t see a single steer in attendance, so I guess we know where we stand.
The boos are drowning at this point.
Martino Maurako: I would now like to apologize for insulting all the gays of the world by lumping you into the same group as TEXANS.
Full bags of popcorn are tossed into the ring at Martino and the Family as well as cowboy boots and many other items.
Martino Maurako: Here you go Mario, I’ve got them warmed up.
EPU unknowns have managed to calm the crowd slightly, or at least has got them to stop throwing trash. Martino hands the microphone off to Mario who bends down and picks up an extra large pair of women’s panties that have been thrown into the ring.
Mario Maurako: I guess they don’t lie when they say “everything is bigger in Texas”.
The Maurako Family chuckle to themselves as they continue to rile up the crowd.
Mario Maurako: I could sit here and make fun of you toothless rednecks all night but we came out here tonight because we have some important Family business to conduct. You see, last week I told Christopher America that he would have to sing the Italian National Anthem if he wanted to return to his days here on Mayhem. So ladies and gentlemen, without further adieu… let’s give a BIG Texas welcome to my client… CHRISTOPHER AMERICA!!!
Rick Fantastic: He’s here?!? He really is here?!?
Mario Maurako points to the curtain when the HOV lights up and Christopher America is seen standing in front of the Eiffel Tower. The fans cheer at the sight of Christopher America, as he hasn’t been seen since Capital Punishment.
Mario Maurako: Now Chris, I know you really wanted to be here tonight, but I know you simply avoid letting your fans down. It’s a shame too… especially after I saw all of your supporters faces light up after my “anonymous” rumor was leaked on HOWrestling.com. Anyways, I know your ‘re excited to get to this over with and actually make your return to Mayhem, so I’m not going to keeping you waiting too long. But first let me ask you this… how was your little visit with the Communist community?
As Christopher America goes to answer, Mosé Maurako hits a button on his remote control which mutes the HOV screen. The former LSD champion can still be seen with veins bulging from his neck in anger.
Mario Maurako: Hmm… it appears we are having some technical difficulties here with the screen tonight. Chris can you hear me?
Christopher America: Yes you piece of-
Mosé mutes the screen again.
Mario Maurako: Hmm, I hope nobody loses their job over this. Do you know how much it costs to broadcast live via satellite from Italy? Well neither do I… I don’t have to pay the production costs. America? America you still there buddy?
Christopher America: I hear you just fine.
Mario Maurako: Well good perhaps we should just move on to the singing of the Italian National Anthem eh? HIT THE MUSIC!
“Fratelli d’Italia” starts to play the instrumental part but just as it’s getting to the part where America would chime in Mario cuts it off.
Mario Maurako: Wait! Hold it! Wait one second. Something is missing. We can’t have an Italian National Anthem without a flag. Someone get me a flag!
Mosé Maurako: Well I have the Tag Title Belt.
Mario Maurako: That will do!
Mosé climbs the turnbuckle and holds his Italian Flag looking Tag Team Title high into the air as “Fratelli d’Italia” starts to play. Once again Mario interrupts it before America can start to sing.
Mario Maurako: Wait one more thing I forgot. We can have an Italian National Anthem being sung without everyone standing up in their seats and saluting The Maurako Family and our Italian Tag Team Title Belt.
The Crowd boos at the notion of saluting the Maurako Family.
Mario Maurako: Well it’s like this Texas. You either stand and salute us or Christopher America never returns to Monday Night Mayhem… what’ll it be?
The crowd is slow to give in to the demands of Mario Maurako but eventually they do.
Mario Maurako: Ok Chris the floor is yours!
“Fratelli d’Italia” starts to play through the arena as everyone is saluting the Maurako’s Italian Flag-strapped Tag Team Title.
Christopher America: Brothers of Italy-
Mario Maurako: Wait! Cut the damn music! America there are no short cuts. You were instructed to sing the National Anthem in Italian, so either do it right or you will force my hand.
Christopher America: Ok Ok fine.
Mario Maurako: Ladies and Gentlemen please remain standing as we proudly hear the Italian National Anthem, as performed by Christopher America.
“Fratelli d’Italia” starts to play….. again.
l’Italia s’è desta,
dell’elmo di Scipio
s’è cinta la testa.
Dov’è la Vittoria?
The HOV suddenly goes to static with the feed to America being lost, and the crowd instantly begins to boo again.
Mario Maurako: Awww… he was doing so good too. Well it looks like America didn’t fulfill his agreement this week, so as his Talent Agent, I can’t allow him to return to the states or to Mayhem. Better luck next week Chris!
Mario tosses the mic down as “Hunt You Down” by Saliva hits and the Maurako Family begins to exit the ring.
Chastity Gold: This has got to stop! It’s bad enough that Mario Maurako cost Christopher America the LSD title at Capitol Punishment, but now he’s simply abusing his “client” by forcing him overseas and ridiculing him on live television!
Rick Fantastic: Never sign a contract without reading the fine print. Trust me… learned that many-a-times signing pre-numps.
As the Maurakos make their way up the entrance ramp, the camera cuts backstage to a shot of Tim Shipley leaving his locker room with the red-headed vixen Roxie Sykes at his side.
Chastity Gold: Well up next folks, you’ll see the anticipated debut of Tim Shipley…
Rick Fantastic: Which will be no easy task as he looks for an upset against LSD champion David Black. Don’t go away!
Special Labor Day weekend HOR with first keepers being named!
Tim Shipley vs. David Black
Back LIVE with Lacuna Coil’s “Survive” drowning away and David Black in ring, proudly displaying the LSD title over his shoulder.
Chastity Gold: Well David Black has been steamrolling his way through the competition as of late, but if he even thinks of looking ahead to next week’s title defense against Bobbinette Carey, we’re going to see a HUGE upset here tonight.
Rick Fantastic: Tim Shipley’s no slouch Chaz… he’s a well respected veteran of the industry that recently signed a record contract deal here in HOW, well ahead of Hall of Famers Maximillian Kael, Bobbinette Carey, and Graystone.
Shipley emerges from the back with Roxie on his arm to a mixed reaction from the crowd, but mostly cheers thanks to name recognition alone. He slides into the ring, showing no fear of David Black as Romeo Ward quickly checks both men and calls for the bell.
Tim Shipley comes out strong, much to the crowd’s delight, but his momentum is quickly derailed thanks to a thumb to the eye from David Black and a low blow that has Roxie already on the apron complaining to Romeo Ward. Ward quickly gains control and holds off Black as Shipley uses the ropes to come to his feet. Black lunges with a clothesline attempt but Tim ducks, following through with a quick hip toss from David’s momentum off the ropes.
Tim keeps the LSD champion grounded for several moments with a variety of strike and holds to allow himself time to land the “Chi-Squared Drop”, a second rope Somersault Leg Drop into a pin. David is able to get the shoulder up after 2 though and reclaims the advantage with a counter of Shipley’s Cradle Suplex that he calls the “Chaos Theory” into a cradle of his own. Except it’s Tim’s turn to kick out after 2 and the two brawl back and forth, out of the ring and even into the crowd.
The Elite Protection Unit easily clears a path for the two wrestlers as they trade blow for blow until Ward administers a 10-count. With David Black dazed after several forearm shots to the forehead, the crowd rises to their feet as the momentum is in Shipley’s favor upon reaching the ring on the 8-count.
Chastity Gold: This is going to be close, Rick!
Rick Fantastic: David Black needs to get to the ring to avoid being counted out!
Catching a needed momentary breath leaning over the ring steps for support, Black desperately moves to slide under the rope until Roxie stops him in his tracks by yanking his leg backwards. Romeo Ward catches sight of this and immediately calls for the bell whilst Roxie “innocently” shrugs, looking appalled at the decision that’s been made.
DING ~ DING ~ DING!
Kimber Marshall: Here is your winner by disqualification at 7:54… DAVID BLACK!!!
Obviously upset that his valet just cost him the match, Tim gives her a “what were you thinking” look from inside the ring as she pleads her case on the outside.
Chastity Gold: Romeo Ward is not one to let interference like that slip past him.
Meanwhile, David Black rushes to retrieve the LSD championship from ringside and reverts to the back offering no reprieve for Shipley’s misfortune.
Rick Fantastic: Only time will tell whether Tim Shipley will live up to the hype surrounding his big-money contract with High Octane Wrestling, but for now he can be excused for being quietly pleased with his first night of competitive action since failing in a bid to dethrone PTC Elite Champion Wyatt Connors at the beginning of this year.
Chastity Gold: He impressed me tonight Rick. Had Roxie not gotten involved, this one could’ve gone either way, in my opinion.
With sweat beading on his forehead, Shipley treads the path back to the locker room with Roxie close behind, looking somewhat perturbed that she just cost him the match. As the camera follows them to their locker room, Shipley is still plainly absorbed in the encounter with LSD Champion that he fails entirely to notice a tall figure blocking his way as he rounds a corner. He walks straight into the back of four-time LSD Champion Silent Witness.
Silent Witness: What the… Who are you?!
Tim Shipley: Sorry, I, uh. I’m Tim Shipley.
He holds out a hand. Silent Witness looks down at it, and shakes his head.
Silent Witness: I’m not shaking your hand. I’ve been a part of HOW from damn near day one; my name is synonymous with the LSD division and I’m the best Commissioner this place has ever had. But I’m still waiting to sign my contract, while you get a bumper contract as soon as you step foot through the door? What makes you think you can come in here and deserve more than me?
Shipley opens his mouth as if to retort, but just shakes his head and makes to walk off. Silent Witness stares at him, failing to afford him the space to move by. The former cW, AWC and rW blue-chipper refuses to rise to the bait, nudging past Silent Witness, and strides off without a backward glance.
Silent Witness: Arrogant punk. Just another new guy who thinks he’s God’s gift to HOW because he was successful in a second-rate promotion… It takes more than arrogance to survive around here…
Chastity Gold: What’s got Witnesses panties all in a bunch?
Rick Fantastic: You got me… but for right now, let’s take a brief time out as a word from our sponsors.
SPECIAL RULES LAST MAN STANDING MATCH
Trent vs. Aceldama©
INDUSTRIES BUILDING ANYTHING GOES MATCH
Silent Witness vs. David Black©
HIGH OCTANE FIGHTING CHAMPIONSHIP
PRISON YARD MATCH
Chris Kostoff vs. Michael DeNucci
NO TAG LINE NEEDED
MENTAL WARD MATCH
Maximillian Kael vs. Graystone
Bobbinette Carey vs. Kirsta Lewis
We return from break in a hallway backstage where interviewer Brian B.A.R.E. stands, microphone in hand, outside the locker room door of one of tonight’s main event competitors, “Perfect” Paul Paras. Brian addresses the camera in front of him.
Brian B.A.R.E.: Hello ladies and gentlemen, Brian B.A.R.E. here, looking to get exclusive words from a man who just last week here on Mayhem suffered a cruel beating at the hands of Shane Reynolds in front of his hometown fans—the Minnesota Messiah, Paul Paras!
He looks to each side of him and then quickly leans in toward the camera, lowering his voice.
Brian B.A.R.E.: And confidentially, after what happened the last time I tried to interview Triple P and ran into one of his “friends,” I could make a real habit of this…if you know what I mean!
Brian smiles and turns to knock on Triple P’s door, but is interrupted by a loud clearing of the throat emerging from behind him. Brian cringes and slowly turns around as the camera scrolls over to find Mayhem General Manager Ryan Faze standing, arms crossed, delivering a stern look to his backstage interviewer.
Brian B.A.R.E.: Oh, hey man, it’s you! I was just about to interview Triple P. I could see if he has any more of that blue stuff for you if you…
Faze: I don’t want any more of Paras’s mindfucking juice. I need to do some damage control here.
Brian B.A.R.E.: Oh…sure, you can… I just wanted to see if there were any more women…
Faze: Then get a fucking magazine. Out of my way.
Brian’s eyes widen as he scrambles away from the clearly all-business GM. Faze narrows his eyes and knocks on the locker room door. A moment later, the door opens and the Texas fans erupt into cheers as “Perfect” Paul Paras steps out, taping his fists and glaring at Faze through his mirrored sunglasses.
Faze: Paul, good to see you. Do you have a moment?
Paul Paras: Logically speaking, we all do… It’s who we choose to waste it on that matters. So what’s going on, my dear Waste?
Faze’s expression turns dour as he rolls his eyes, but quickly recovers his smug, businesslike demeanor.
Faze: Look Paul, I know a lot of stuff happened last week that didn’t sit well with you…
Paul Paras: Oh? Which stuff would that be, Ryan? Getting sneak attacked by Shane Reynolds? Being bloodied and beaten in front of a crowd made up of my friends and family? Having all this happen while a security team that just so happens to be run by my best friend of 32 years and his family is nowhere to be found? Yeah, you could say that left a minor ache in the old perfect stomach!
Triple P’s composure and glare never leave’s Faze’s face as his voice raises in intensity. Paul finally breaks the staredown by smirking confidently and returning to wrapping the athletic tape around his right hand.
Paul Paras: But don’t you worry about me, GM. For you see, tonight, we’re not in Minnesota and I’m not teaming with Triple M. Tonight, it’s just the Perfect One walking into Austin, Texas, tearing the house down with Issac Slade in the main event, and along the way, making Shane Reynolds regret the biggest error he has ever committed in his career—beginning a job on the Perfect One last week and failing to finish it. If you’ll excuse me, boss, I’m feeling a little spasm in my fists and the only cure is a steady dose of Shane Reynolds’ face.
Paras begins to walk out of the door, but Faze raises both hands in front of Paul to stop him. This time, it is Paras who rolls his eyes at his frequent adversary.
Faze: Sorry Paul, no can do. As much as I’m sure you and Shane killing each other again will be amazing for my ratings, the fact is…Shane isn’t here tonight.
Hearing this, the fans in the arena begin to boo at the GM. Paras indignantly puts his head down and attempts to control his frustration.
Faze: He sent me a memo earlier today saying that he would be broadcasting live via satellite later in the show, but he has the night off. So to you, Paul, I suggest you cool your jets toward Shane and take out your aggression on… your opponent tonight…
Faze takes a deep breath, obviously showing signs of residual anger toward that particular opponent. Paras smiles, but only slightly, perhaps understanding what Faze is going through, despite not thinking very highly of him otherwise. Faze shakes his head and tries to change the subject and regain his authority.
Faze: But what I really came here to do is give you a bill for all my office furniture you burned last week and for all the Pepto-Bismol I had to buy after you slipped fucking laxatives into my drink! I am the GM of Mayhem and I will not tolerate this kind of…
Paul Paras: Whoa there, jack… you think I made a bonfire out of your stuff and made you a date with Mr. Whipple? Look, I may have done some pretty zany things when I was a rookie in this business, but do you really think that the Perfect One—ruler of men, lover of women, and ICON of the wrestling world would have anything to gain by a sophomoric prank? As for burning someone’s furniture? I don’t do the dark, gothic, hellfire and brimstone garbage…I leave that to the inexperienced. Sorry, but you’ve got the wrong guy, and that’s a Perfect guarantee. Good luck finding who did it.
Faze eyes Paras, unconvinced, but soon nods in acceptance at Paul’s logic. He steps aside to clear the way out of the locker room as Triple P reaches around the door to grab his Singapore cane. He begins to walk past Faze, stopping just past him to deliver a parting word.
Paul Paras: Oh, if you’re still sending out memos, be sure to leave one for Reynolds that informs him that whenever he comes back from his little “vacation”…his ignorant ass belongs to the Perfect One.
The fans cheer again as Paras turns and heads down the hallway. Faze sighs and heads in the opposite direction as we cut back to ringside.
Have Faith in This?
Chastity Gold: Ladies and Gentlemen I’m getting word that Triple P’s opponent for the night, Issac Slade, has entered the arena and…
After a momentary pause becomes too long Rick pipes up
Rick Fantastic: …and what Chaz? What’s with the funny look?
Chastity looks as if she can’t believe what she’s hearing, after another prolonged pause she shakes her head
Chastity Gold: Well Rick I don’t think I can appropriately describe this…I’ve got word we’ve got a camera back there so we’re going to let you all see just what it is I’m being told here, I know I need to “See” it to Believe it…
The scene switches to backstage where Issac Slade can be seen walking the maze of hallways with a calm measured pace, walking arm in arm with the mysterious leather clad beauty he looks calm and at peace, the two are flanked by two well built but almost super model in appearance young women, one of them has Issac’s workout bag slung over her shoulder, those they approach are forced to move out of their way quickly as their precession takes up the width of the hallway.
Though they make for a strange group of associates for the former World and ICON Champion it’s not their presence that screams “out of the ordinary” but rather the presence of a collar visibly strapped around Issac’s neck and the leash attached to that collar and the other end firmly in the hands of the woman in Leather, as they walk she speaks.
Woman: I told you last week Issac, that Shane Reynolds could only hurt you on the outside, I told you not to rise to his physical attempts to bait you, but you let him goad you into attacking him, You were weak Issac! And I have trained you better than that! I have trained you to show no weakness in the face of your enemies!
Her tone is accusatory but Issac endures the scolding with a slight nod of his head in understanding.
Woman: I took you in, I soothed you when it hurt, I held you while you cried, I healed your wounds, I picked you up and carried you when you had no strength to stand on your own, and all I asked for in return was for you to Have Faith in the lessons that I taught you!
If Issac feels any chagrin at hearing his own catchphrase used against him then he keeps the annoyance off his face, instead he bows his head slightly and says something softly.
Woman: What was that Issac?
Stopping short she pulls firmly at his leash making Issac turn to face her
Issac Slade: I said Forgive me Mistress…
The leather mask creaks slightly around the corners of the woman’s lips as she is no doubt smiling
Woman: Forgive you Mistress….
She trails off as expecting something more, though his voice is soft spoken Issac is quick to correct himself
Issac Slade: “Please” Forgive me Mistress…
Raising a gloved hand the Woman caresses Issac’s face gently as one would touch a favourite pet
Woman: You are forgiven Issac, you must put your trust in me and Have Faith that I will not lead you astray, everything I do is for a reason, by the time I am finished you will have become a better man, you have already become so much more than you were, superior in so many ways Issac
With a gentle tug of his leash she urges Issac to continue until they come to the room that will serve as their Locker room for the evening, urging him to stop with another firm tug of the leash the Woman speaks.
Woman: Open the door for me Issac, if you would be so kind.
Dutifully Issac reaches out and opens the door for her leading her and their two stunning assistants inside the locker room, as they all go inside The Woman turns around and faces the camera man
Woman: I’m afraid this is the end of the line for you, but don’t worry, Issac will be able to compete in his match tonight, he’s in fine fighting shape, I’ve seen to it myself, so until he hit’s the ring “Have Faith”
The door shuts and the feed goes back to the announcers table
Rick Fantastic: Whoa…
Chastity Gold: Waste? Of What? I can’t believe that woman has Issac Slade, a former ICON and World Champion on a leash and wearing a collar! And further more I can’t believe he’s just allowing it to happen!
Rick Fantastic: Now don’t jump to conclusions Chaz, there are some people who enjoy that kind of thing, perhaps we’re just seeing a side of Issac Slade that we’ve never seen before.
Chastity Gold: I highly doubt that Rick, last week Triple P pointed out that Issac was on some kind of drug…and that he needed to seek medical attention.
Rick Fantastic: Well we’ll see just how Sedated Issac Slade is tonight when he takes on Triple P himself later in the program, and for Issac’s sake I hope he’s got a clear head.
Chastity Gold: We’ll be right back with Jason Midnight and Mario Maurako in action! Don’t go away!
Go to EWTORCH.COM and check to see which HOW moment made the Holy Crap Moment of the Week!
Mario Maurako vs. Jason Midnight
Back LIVE in the middle of the action between Jason Midnight and Mario Maurako, where Mario has his much larger opponent weakened by targeting his right leg. Midnight does his best to fight off the former Stable and ICON champion, but staggers right into the “Marvelosity” Full Nelson finisher.
Rick Fantastic: Just last week, Mario could NOT lock in the Marvelosity on Bob “Fucking” Jared… can he lock in the hold on the much larger, and much more dangerous Jason Midnight?
Chastity Gold: He’s got him!
Just as Mario locks in the Full Nelson, Jason Midnight uses his brute strength to power out and counters with a “Final Toll” attempt. Unfortunately for Jason, Mario was ready for it and slips behind for the “Red Scare” Inverted Leg Sweep! Referee Frank Tsonga is quick on the pin as Martino looks on closely and the crowd boos for the Head of Mayhem’s EPU.
DING ~ DING ~ DING!
Kimber Marshall: Here is your winner in 5:44… MARIO MAURAKO!!!
Chastity Gold: Well Rick, after falling victim to the Blood Brothers last week, Mario Maurako earns his first singles victory since his return with an impressive performance over Jason Midnight.
Rick Fantastic: I’ll be honest Chastity, I think Mario just proved his worth as HOW Tag Team champion right there. For what it’s worth… Jason Midnight still scares the hell out of me!
Mario slides out of the ring to join Martino to celebrate as Midnight shakes off the cob webs and rolls out of the ring himself before the camera cuts away.
Roxie Sykes looks bewildered and outraged. Tim Shipley looks weary and pensive.
Tim Shipley: Silent Witness. Former four-time LSD Champion?
Roxie can’t help exploding into laughter.
Roxie: “Former four-time LSD Champion.” Listen to yourself! You’re sounding like the rest of them!
Tim Shipley: How?
Roxie: Saying it like it MEANS something! Christ, Tim, this is a fucking backwater. You think “four-time LSD Champion” is some kind of accomplishment? It’s the prize they give the fuckheads that finish last.
Shipley empties the remainder of a water bottle into his gullet and tosses it aside, saying nothing.
Roxie: I mean, holy fuck, what do you—
Tim Shipley: Didn’t they warn you about your language? This isn’t Just, Roxie, we’re actually on TV here.
Roxie grins apologetically.
Roxie: OK. But you know that I’m right. You need to get a sense of what you’re doing here, Tim. You don’t need to be here. You could be anywhere. They need you.
Shipley sits tight, swallows.
Roxie: You need to not be getting yourself into fights with the little fish, Tim. I mean, this is a tiny fucking pond as it is.
Tim Shipley: (looking at the floor) You know they’ve put me on the biggest contract out of everyone here, Roxie?
Roxie snorts in disbelief.
Roxie: Fifteen? Fifteen fucking hundred and you’re their highest-paid worker?
Shipley nods glumly.
Roxie: Jesus. And I wondered where Lee Best gets the money for those suits.
Tim Shipley: A TV deal and the guys are living on peanuts. The question is, why do they stick around?
Roxie: Because nowhere else will have them, Tim. Because nobody else fucking wants them.
Tim looks at his manager, purses his lips, and nods slowly. It’s some kind of an epiphany.
Tim Shipley: Who do they have lined up for me?
Roxie: Word on the wires was Scottywood, but they haven’t told me shit.
Shipley looks aghast. Roxie gives a knowing nod.
Roxie: Uh-huh. Well, you asked to come here. You can’t expect a rose garden. You can dress up shit all you want, but it’s still gonna sm—
Tim Shipley: I want the Face-Eater.
Roxie: Uh… huh?
Tim Shipley: (nodding) That’s it. That’s just what I need…
Roxie: Am I hearing you right? The Illustrious fucking Face-Eater? Aren’t you two done?
Shipley scowls at the floor.
Tim Shipley: Nah. We’ll never be done.
Roxie: Well he isn’t fucking here, is he?
Tim Shipley: He isn’t anywhere. Yet.
He straightens up.
Tim Shipley: Whatever feud they want to give me. Stall them. I need a week.
Shipley turns and strides out of the locker room. Roxie looks sceptical.
Roxie: The Illustrious Face-Eater, in HOW? Fat fucking chance.
The camera feed cuts to the back, and we see a camera shot of a man dressed in all black with a tire iron in his hand from his back. There seems to be something dripping from the end of it. The camera then moves around the man, and we see what appears to be Silent Witness laying in a pool of blood that seems to be coming from his head. His face is coated with the fresh red liquid.
Chasity Gold: Oh my God. Is that?
Rick Fantastic: I believe it is. It looks like Silent Witness.
Suddenly the man holding the tire iron drops it, and he walks off. The camera turns its attention onto the man, and we see the man dressed in black with a skeleton mask on walk away from the scene.
Rick Fantastic: Well I don’t know how we’re going to have our next match as it is supposed to be Joseph Gregory taking on Silent Witness, but as you can all tell it looks like Silent Witness may have been taken out of it.
Chasity Gold: Who would do such a thing?
Rick Fantastic: I don’t know, but we’ll try to find out when we come back from this commercial break.
Only 3 more Mayhems left to impress Lee and Faze!
Silent Witness vs. Joseph Gregory
The camera is once again backstage as we come back from the commercial break, and we see the man dressed in black walking towards the exit to the entrance ramp. The shot is only showing the man from just below his shoulders, and down. Soon we see his arm raise to his head, and seconds later the mask is lowered into the camera shot in the man’s hand. He tosses the mask into a nearby garbage can, and he walks up to the curtain further, and we hear the music “Cleansing” by Marilyn Manson hit the PA system. The cameras cut back to the ones in the arena.
Chasity Gold: What? This is definitely an interesting twist. Why would he do this?
Rick Fantastic: I know that Silent Witness said that Joseph should do whatever was necessary to get this win, but I definitely don’t think this is what he was referring to. I don’t think this is what our General Manager Ryan Faze was looking for either.
Chasity Gold: I couldn’t agree more.
The lights have already dimmed, and Joseph Gregory has already made his way halfway down the ring. Once Joseph Gregory reaches the ring, he tears away the over-pants with the chains attached and tosses them to the side as the flames shoot from the four corners of the ring. He then slides into the ring, and waits in the center. The lights return to normal as everyone awaits the arrival of Silent Witness.
Everyone continues to wait for Silent Witness to walk out, but no one expects him to after witnessing what we did just before the break. Suddenly we see someone coming through the curtain, but it’s Ryan Faze instead of Silent Witness. Faze draws a microphone and walks straight to the ring to confront Joseph Gregory. Joseph prepares himself in a fighting stance to be ready for anything.
Faze: Relax Joseph. I’m not out here to start anything with you. I must admit… when I said to justify your case last week, and show me how desperate you are for a shot at the LSD title, I didn’t expect this. What you’ve done by taking your opponent out BEFORE the match even starts shows a level of desperation I didn’t think you had in you. Now from the looks of Silent Witness, I can take this one of two ways…
The General Manager starts to walk away from Joseph with his back to him.
Faze: I can be impressed that you took out the man standing in your way for the LSD title shot, and add you to the Industries Building match at Rumble at the Rock 2…
Ryan pauses as he scratches his chin with his back still to Joseph Gregory.
Faze: Or I could fire you for ruining my prime-time LSD title match between two of the greatest LSD champions in history. Tell me Joseph… what should I do?
Faze stops speaking and drops the microphone to his side. He starts to ponder the options as Joseph awaits a decision, both men are staring each other down mighty hard. Faze then walks straight up to Joseph, and gets nose to nose with him. But before he can deliver his decision, someone quickly jumps over the security barrier and slides into the ring.
Chasity Gold: WAIT! That looks like… IT IS! It’s Silent Witness!
A heavily bandaged Silent Witness stalks Joseph Gregory from behind, spins him around, and levels him with The Silent Treatment. The crowd starts to go nuts as Faze exits the ring and summons Romeo Ward to call the action.
Just as the bell is being run, Witness immediately sprawls over to cover Joseph Gregory having already hit his finishing maneuver. But Joseph manages to dig deep and get his shoulder up with a milli-second to spare before Ward’s hand slaps the mat for the third time.
Silent Witness relentlessly keeps on the attack until a high-risk plunge from the top rope backfires as Gregory evades the attack and rolls out of the way. With the crowd really into the action and no clear favorite to cheer for, it’s Gregory that takes advantage of the momentum shift by executing with his “Pit” Double-Handed Chokeslam finisher that re-opens Silent Witness’ wound from Joseph’s earlier attack.
DING ~ DING ~ DING!
Kimber Marshall: Here is your winner in 10:15… JOSEPH GREGORY!!!
Chastity Gold: Huge…HUGE statement made by Jo-
But before Chastity can say anything else, she is interrupted by General Manager Faze, who seems impressed by Joseph’s victory and “desperation”.
Faze: Well Joseph, you just proved it right there… so decision shall be made final. At Rumble at the Rock 2… it will be David Black vs. Silent Witness vs. Joseph Gregory… with the LSD title on the line in the Alcatraz Industries Building! That, of course, if Black retains it on Turmoil…
Rick Fantastic: Whether or not David Black will still have the title by then remains to be seen, but with the way he’s been wrestling as of late, Joseph Gregory will get his chance at the LSD title sooner rather than later!
Chastity Gold: Wait a minute… what’s this?
A Mystery Confronted
As the Austin fans prepare for the main event, we cut backstage to find a tight shot of a large locker room door bearing the nameplate “Issac Slade.” The crowd cheers as hard as it can for the name, despite showing confusion over the appearance of Slade earlier in the show. The door opens, revealing a mostly dark room, from which emerges the leather masked face of the Slade’s mysterious female “helper.” The woman begins to step out of the room, but stops with a sudden jolt as her exit is blocked by a bamboo Singapore cane snapping across the doorframe.
Woman: Paul Paras, I presume?
The view zooms out to see the cane lowered by its wielder, “Perfect” Paul Paras. Paul stands to the left of the door with a dissatisfied sneer crossing his lips, his mirrored sunglasses covering his eyes, yet still expressing his angst at the individual in the mask. He speaks calmly and harshly at her.
Paul Paras: Where’s Slade?
The woman reaches out her hand and lowers the cane the rest of the way out of the door as she walks out, followed by the second leather-clad woman known as Aura and the third, Luca, who leads out the object of Paras’ questioning, Issac Slade, on his leash and collar. Slade appears heavily sedated, much as he did last week when confronted by Paul, but seems to be physically vigilant and ready for the match. Paras ignores the women completely and focuses on Slade.
Paul Paras: Slade…Issac…if you can hear me in that dense skull of yours, I need you to listen to me. I see what these broads have done to you and while I’m not opposed to a little BDSM every now and then, this is going too far. You’re not some dog on a chain…you’re Issac Slade. You’re about to go out there and entertain the world in the ring with the Perfect athlete, just like these fans deserve, and you can do it without all this garbage… Damn it, Slade… are you even hearing me?
Issac cocks his head to the side and turns away from Paras, murmuring a low rumble of disapproval from his throat, almost like that of a dog. Luca snaps the leash slightly against Issac’s back, causing the pair to walk off down the hall toward the arena. Triple P gazes in Slade’s direction for a moment before the apparent leader of the group talks to Paras in her muffled, masked voice.
Woman: Issac Slade has a match to prepare for. I suggest you do the same, Mister Paras, as Slade will show no mercy now that he has begun to be properly healed. You can’t begin to comprehend the damage Issac suffered, Mister Paras, mental and physical, so before you go accusing me of “Breaking” him you should know that we haven’t done a thing to Issac that he didn’t agree to…that he didn’t ask us to.
Paul hesitates, then gains a smirk that is half-cocky, half-lascivious in nature. He addresses both women with a cunning gleam in his eye.
Paul Paras: “Properly Healed,” eh? Ladies, we’ve never properly met, so I don’t know if you’ve ever seen the Perfect One in action, but I am renowned as an expert in healing… in manipulating the human experience to whatever means I please… including soul, mind…and body.
Paul steps closer to Aura, running a hand up her leather hip, causing her to quickly back away. Paras presses on, turning toward the mystery woman.
Paul Paras: While you girls are so busy wasting your time with Issac Slade, you could be experiencing a real man…pure perfection.
He again meticulously caresses the leather, this time on the masked face of the woman. She doesn’t budge an inch, although Aura appears to be getting increasingly uncomfortable.
Paul Paras: What would happen…I wonder…if the two of you and your other voluptuous friend in this ménage a trois would try giving in yourselves? …Giving into the charms of a man? Losing control… Letting Perfect harmony take its course around…and inside each of you…
Aura has heard enough as she grabs Paul by the shoulder and turns him toward her, kicking a 7-inch heel toward Paras’ groin area. Paul, however, reaches down and perfectly catches the woman’s boot in mid-kick. He repositions her leg in a vice grip under his arm, leaving her helplessly balancing on one heeled boot. She tries to swing her fists, but Paul drops the cane and grabs her left hand. He gently pushes her against the hallway wall, pinning her right arm behind her back. Paras takes a quick glance over to the mystery woman, who has retreated into the locker room, then leans in close to Aura and whispers something in her ear with a direly serious tone.
Paul Paras: You may have Slade now, but in his heart is something stronger than any drugs, sex, and recreation you can give him. My job tonight may be to beat him to a pulp, but believe me—Issac Slade will rise again. As for your fearless leader in there, I intend to find out who she is and then the HOW fans can pass their own judgment on her… if I don’t get restless and pass my own first. As for you… He looks her up and down in her vulnerable position.
Paul Paras: Sorry doll, I have a match. Truth be told, I don’t go for the butch types anyway.
Paras lets go of her arm and leg, causing her to stumble backward to catch her balance against the concrete wall. By the time she regains her composure, Triple P has already strode off toward the arena for his match, the fans in the arena cheering loudly at what they’ve just seen. The woman curses under her breath, then joins her leader in the locker room, quietly closing the door as we cut to ringside.
Perfect Paul Paras vs. Issac Slade
Chastity Gold: When will this stop? Issac Slade doesn’t deserve this… this… “treatment”!
Rick Fantastic: If that’s what you want to call it… I mean, hey, once she’s done with Issac, she’s more than welcome to come to my home for a special treatment of my o-
Chastity Gold: That’s enough Rick… we’ve got a Main Event to prepare for. I have been waiting for this match all night, just like all of our HOW fans!
Rick Fantastic: Ive been waiting for you to sit and spin on my…
Chastity Gold: ….what was that?
Rick Fantastic: Oh nothing…..just saying, Issac Slade’s career is going to sit and spin in one place after his recent losses. We all know Triple P is going to beat Slade.
Chastity Gold: Well Issac Slade will be game here tonight.
Suddenly, Triple P’s music hits and out walks the Perfect One, smiling arrogantly as he walks down and slides into the ring.
Suddenly, Issac Slade’s music hits and out walks the strange woman in leather who has Issac Slade on a leash.
Chasitity Gold: Am I really seeing a man on a leash?
Rick Fantasic: You aren’t into Fem Dom? Damn….
The woman leads Issac to the ring and after a few moments, the collar and leash is off and the woman points to Triple P who is on the opposite side of the ring and shoves Issac forward a bit toward Triple P. Triple P steps forward and the two lock up as ref Frank Tsonga calls for the bell.
DING DING DING
the lockup is brief as Triple P uses his technichal skill to overwhelm Issac Slade. Issac manages to power out of a headlock into a top wrist lock, but Paul Paras quickly breaks away.
Another lockup sees Issac quickly take down Paul but Paul fights back and takes control with knee lifts and an eye rake.
After nailing a basic suplex and a scoop slam, PPP looks to end it early with a MESSANIC COMPLEX, but Issac Slade breaks spins free with an arm twist and turns it into a Necktie Neckbreaker. Both men down for a 5 count and then an exchange of punches which Slade wins with a discus forearm out of nowhere. Slade tries a crossbody after running the ropes, but Triple P ducks and Slade sails out of the ring. Paul follows outside and two brawl for what seems an eternity as Frank Tsonga is being lax in his 10 count.
After a count of 6, Paul Paras gains control by ducking a clothesline attempt and shoving Slade face first into the turnbuckle.
Paul throws Slade into the ring and scrambles into a cover…
Paul continues the pain by nailing a backbreaker and a side belly to belly, but only gets 2 after a pin attempt.
Finally Paul sets up for a superplex, but Slade starts fighting. Paul with a headbutt then a thumb to the eye. Paul hits the superplex!!!!!!! Rick Fantastic jokes that that SuperPlex shook the incomplete arena.
Both men were hurt and after a 4 count rise to their feet. Slade floors Paul with a superkick out of nowhere!
Slade is on all fours when suddenly some dirt and dust can be seen falling into the ring. Frank Tsonga looks up then yells at Slade, but TOO LATE, some metallic and wooden debris falls on top of Slade as the fans hush in shock.
Rick Fantastic remarks that maybe God struck down Slade as Triple P is up, and he takes advantage and pulls Slade out of the debris. Just when Chastity Gold thinks Triple P is trying to be a good sport, Triple P nails the PARASYTE!!!!!!
Slade bounces up and lands on his back after the Flatliner connects and Paul hooks the far leg….
DING DING DING
WINNER OF THE MATCH VIA PINFALL IN 10:04…..PERFECT PAUL PARAS!!!!!
Chasitity Gold: I’ve never seen anything like that before.
Rick Fantastic: I havent either, and unlike you, I actually have seen a lot of wrestling!
Chastity Gold: Well we were told that maintenance crews for the Frank Erwin Center would be finished with their arena repairs by today and it seems as if this is the cause for Slade’s loss here tonight!
Both back on their feet, Issac Slade obviously more slowly than Triple P, they stare back at each other, worn out from the gruelling contest as the woman approaches and rejoins Slade, slipping the collar and leash back around his neck without concern that debris just fell atop and may have injured her “dog”. After a moments hesitation, Paul Paras lifts his arm and extends his hand. Slade’s arm twitches in response, but goes no further than that as suddenly the woman whispers in Issac’s ear and he once again falls still.
With equal suddenness, the subsequent blast of music and the thunderous sound of cheers for a great main-event between two of the most highly regarded men in High Octane Wrestling today is only heard momentary. As the music cuts off with sudden finality the lights immediately dim. And as the tension of this abrupt situation hits home, they fall immediately silent, except to mutter and mumble to each other as they look around in confused anticipation.
They quickly gain somewhere to centre their attention as the HOV screen suddenly lights and an image – an aerial snapshot, to be more exact – is shown of Alcatraz Island. Followed by another. And another. And more after that, each one different from the last, showcasing various parts of the Island and the Prison, from either the air or from actually on-land. Suddenly the photographic images combine with that of newspaper cuttings, revealing headline after headline concerning various news-stories and rumours regarding Alcatraz as the photos, most from newspapers as well now, before suddenly ending with the one detailing it’s permanent closure.
Every eye in the arena is locked onto it as it hangs on the screen for a few more moments, before it fades away also and is replaced with the cold, wet sound of water dripping…..and footsteps. The owner of them appears immediate and turns towards the camera.
As the people currently in the ring, and those at ringside, stare up towards the HOV, the face – the eyes – of Shane Reynolds stare right back as the walls of an Alcatraz cell looms all around him. Although he was not booked on the show, he is dressed in his usual black wrestling attire with a long coat over the top – his face is covered in paint as ever.
Shane Reynolds: Ladies and Gentlemen….I’m sure, like me, this place needs no named introduction. For years, this place housed some of the most notorious and most vicious and dangerous of sinners known to man at the time.
Shane reaches out as he breaks out into a sudden walk from the cell and runs his fingertips along the wall to his right.
Shane Reynolds: And if these walls could talk, all you would hear would be the daily screams of some of those men as the malevolence of their own souls was reflected back at them and the nightmare of this place bore into them.
Shane’s hand leaves the wall now, and he extends his index finger and taps it against his own temple.
Shane Reynolds: Really dug under their skin and bored deep into their minds. It’s something I know all about. You see, last year, for the very first Rumble at the Rock, I was locked in a solitary confinement cell for seventy-two hours. I saw the madness and the evil which inhabit these building, I felt them bore into my own mind – but I overcame it. I left that cell after those seventy-two hours—
Shane pauses now, as the camera moves left and right, revealing Shane is actually walking through that very same Solitary Confinement block.
Shane Reynolds: —and I defeated Crow, Graystone, and Maximillian Kael, in order to become the High Octane Wrestling World champion. But the sinners I mentioned earlier, they weren’t so fortunate – for them there was no escape, not from the Island itself and not from the hell each day here increasingly became. And why is that, I ask you? Well, the answer is simple: because each of us have a destiny. At the time, mine was to be a champion and decades ago theirs was to suffer.
Shane stops abruptly now, the camera following suit and sticking on the image of Shane as a smirk spreads across his face.
Shane Reynolds: But I have a new destiny now. Now it’s my time, my duty, to deliver suffering upon those who deserve it.
Shane’s head lowers slightly now, strands of his hair slipping forward over his currently unseen face.
Shane Reynolds: I thought that person was Issac Slade. I thought the time for his punishment was finally at hand.
His head lifts up again suddenly, his dark eyes staring out through those aforementioned strands of hair.
Shane Reynolds: I was wrong. You see, it’s a given that the ICON championship should and will be defended at this pay-per-view event. But what kind of punishment would it be if I granted Issac Slade an ICON championship shot? Last week, when he dared to lay his hand upon me, he showed the world just what a wrathful sinner he is. You don’t offer a man like that a reward, especially with one hand as you seek to punish and make him suffer with the other. A man like Issac Slade deserves nothing but pain for what he has done….and from me, that’s all he will ever get.
Suddenly the crowd at ringside roars with it’s disapproval upon hearing that Issac Slade will not be granted a match against Shane Reynolds for the ICON Championship.
Shane Reynolds: But then who? Because I have heard all week that the ICON championship is the only title not booked yet to be defended – that is must be booked to be defended. But who seemingly deserves a shot and to suffer in equal measure.
Shane takes a step closer to the camera, his smirk contorting into a grimacing scowl as he thinks over and reminisces about everything that has happened the last week.
Shane Reynolds: And that’s what led me to you….Paul Paras!
Shane’s scowl becomes deeper and more pronounced, adding to his touches of deep disgust. The crowd meanwhile erupt with deafening cheers for the ‘Perfect One’.
Shane Reynolds: All week, I have had to suffer the rants of your hometown fans concerning what I did to you last week; how you are future legend and hall of famer in this company; how you are better than me and that I can never beat you. It doesn’t matter that I beat you already for this championship. It doesn’t matter that I helped to defeat you last week and then left you a battered and bloodied mess in your hometown. No, everyone continues to say one thing: Paul Paras is High Octane Wrestling’s TRUE ICON.
Shane pauses again, his breathing having become deep and highly erratic during remembering and stating all of that. His eyes blazing through the darkness around him.
Shane Reynolds: Well, I’m here to repeat to you, Paul Paras, that you are not an ICON and you never will be. What you are is a man of pride – and pride is just as much a sin as all the others and deserves just as much punishment. And do you know what else is said about pride? That it comes before a fall. And your fall is coming. At Rumble at the Rock. I am granting you the shot everyone seems to believe you deserve. I am granting the world the shot at finally seeing the truth about who is really an ICON as they watch you fail, about who is truly better, when they get to watch your own pre-destined suffering and punishment begin and end, on the same night, right here in Alcatraz Prison….in the true solitary confinement cells.
Shane’s move flits once again to a smirk, once again relishing the thoughts he is having and what he is saying rather than despising them.
Shane Reynolds: You see, beneath these wings, before the military gave usage of these facilities to the Bureau of Prisons, they were built dungeons. A series of cells cut off from all others so no sound or light or warmth could be allowed in. Primarily they were used by the army to house Indians, Confederate Sympathisers..but when the Prison system took over, it took on a whole new name and a whole new meaning of torture to the inmates. They would be locked down there for up to nineteen days, without light, human contact, and with the minimal food and water. The cold air from the vents circulated around them and water from the cisterns dripped from the walls. Down there, they were pushed to their limits. They knew hell and madness and suffering. They knew punishment. And soon, Paul Paras, oh so very, very soon, in and around those cells, so will you.
Shane’s smirk grows to the widest and most sinister yet.
Shane Reynolds: And it may come sooner than you imagine!
Rick Fantastic: He’s here!!
The announcer yells, a mere moment after Shane’s words, as Shane Reynolds suddenly leaps over the barrier and grabs Paul Paras’ very own Singapore cane whilst all eyes are still distracted by what’s happening on the screen. No longer is he dressed as he is show on Alcatraz, but is street clothes consisting on dark-blue jeans and a white top with the hood pulled up over his head. The magic of his trick is broken by Rick’s shout as the crowd spot him and boo loudly also, leading in turn all eyes in the ring to turn to him.
It is too late, however, as he is already in the ring and swinging wildly with the cane. It catches Paul on the side of the head as he turns, dropping him forward onto one knee. Shane measures up for a moment before delivering shot after shot across Paul’s back. He collapses fully, but is granted no reprieve as Shane sweeps down and scoops him up, before running to the ropes and tossing him over the top. He crumples on the outside as the HOV goes black.
Chastity Gold: But I thought that was live?
Rick Fantastic: Evidently not!
Still holding the cane, Shane turns to Slade, revealing his unpainted face as he pulls the hood down. Slade remains a statue, perfectly still across the ring with the collar once again around his neck. His face is stoic and unresponsive to everything that just happened right in front of him. Shane approaches, his head moving questioningly from side to side.
Shane Reynolds: You see Ladies and Gentlemen?
Shane asks, raising a microphone already in his possession to his lips.
Shane Reynolds: You see what kind of man Issac Slade is? First he refuses a blatant show of respect from his opponent—-
The crowd interrupt Shane with boos at that moment, clearly having not forgotten Shane doing the exact same thing only recently.
Shane Reynolds: —And then he just stands by and watches him getting attacked.
Chastity Gold: For Christ’s sake… the man was injured!
Shane moves closer now and stares into Slade’s unblinking eyes.
Shane Reynolds: You may not be getting a match anytime soon, Mr. Slade, but your punishment is still due…..and it starts tonight.
Issac doesn’t flinch as Shane suddenly pulls up the cane again, neither does he as Shane swings it forward as hard as he can, nor as the shot swings wide as the blurred image of Paul Paras speeds back into the ring and knocks the smaller and lighter Shane half way across the ring with a thunderous spear. The Singapore Cane slips from Shane’s hand like the air from his lungs as he hit’s the ground and is set upon with equally thunderous right hands, before Paul stands up and kicks him repeatedly towards the ropes and dropping like a stone out underneath them.
Paul begins shouting passionately and yet inaudible down at Shane over the ropes as the crowd cheer him on. Shane has to drag himself across the way and prop himself up against the ringside barrier, holding his head, before his face can begin to regain it’s previous scowling composure.
Across the ring, movement catches Paul’s attention. He turns to it to witness the woman ‘walking’ Issac Slade nonchalantly out of the ring and down the steps, before turning and looking back. Paul turns his attention alternately between them and Shane, as Issac does the some with no visible expression, and Shane glances back and forth at Paul and Issac as the feed cuts to black.
Frank Erwin Center