SGT Justice vs Derek Miracle
“Turn Up The Radio” by Autograph blares over the PA System as Derek Miracle strolls out to the ohhhs and aahhhhhs of the fans in attendance. He pauses for a moment and begins flexing as a shower of pyro goes off behind him. Then he looks at the camera and gives it a wink.
Robbins: Introducing first weighing in at Two Hundred and Sixty Five pounds, he is DEREKKKKKK MIRACLEEEEE!!!!
Derek continues down the ramp as ladies reach out from the barricade and touch his perfectly chiseled frame. He climbs into the ring and poses several times before the ref steps in and checks him for foreign objects.
Moss: Miracle has had a rollercoaster ride so far here in Classic, but he looks to right the ship tonight against one of our newest wrestlers.
Howley: This is going to be a great matchup and I’m looking forward to this one.
♫ “Bad Boys” by Inner Circle ♫
Blue and red police-style light bars flash to life on either side of the entryway as Sgt. Justice calmly steps through the curtain, his silver, mirrored aviators glistening in contrast to his dark blue uniform that still sports LAPD shoulder flashes. He sharply comes to attention facing an American flag hanging from the rafters and stiffly salutes it, the crowd responding with a cheer before Sgt. Justice walks with purpose to the ring, up the steps, and through the ropes, waving to the crowd before retreating to his corner and removing his hat and glasses, setting them neatly under the bottom turnbuckle and allowing the referee to check him over.
Robbins: And his opponent weighing in at Two Hundred and Sixty Five pounds. He is The Sarge….. SARGENT JUSTICCCCCCCEEEE!
Moss: Looks like we are ready to go here in the opening matchup for this stacked card here at Capital Clash.
Howley: You know it. The fans are already at a fever pitch and just awaiting that sweet sweet sound of combat.
Moss: And there it is let’s get this match under way.
As the bell rings both men circle one another. Neither man wanted to be the first one to strike. Sarge shoots first, but stops as Miracle steps back. Then quickly Derek shoots, stopping short as Sarge steps back. The crowd becomes restless as Sarge holds up a hand for a test of strength. Derek laughs slightly at the notion before flexing in Sarge’s face. Miracle eventually raises a hand towards Sarge’s and they clasp. Both men are tentative as they raise their other hands and they lock up. Derek takes the advantage, curling Sarge’s wrists and driving him to a knee.
Moss: Miracle is one of the few people I wouldn’t want to do a test of strength against.
Howley: As much as I want to disagree with you, I can’t, but I will.
Moss: Really? Anything to be difficult?
Moss: Look at Miracle flexing for the crowd.
With a quick smile to the crowd Miracle’s face goes from easy going to worried, as Sarge gets his feet back under him. Both men are up to their feet as Sarge begins to wrench down on Miracle, who goes down to a knee, but fights his way back to his feet after a moment. Miracle brakes a hand free and whips Sarge into the ropes, he rebounds and is met by a shoulder tackle that takes him to the ground. Miracle seizes the opportunity and runs the ropes himself and splashes on top of Sarge and hooks a leg.
Moss: The Sarge is quick to get a shoulder up there.
Howley: It’s gonna take more than that to keep him down.
Sarge quickly powers out of the pin and gets to his feet. Miracle shakes off the kickout and begins an attack on Sarge. Sarge manages to get his arms up and blocks several of the blows. Miracle once again goes for an Irish whip and this time when Sarge rebounds he scoops him up for a slam, but pauses to show off his muscles to the crowd.
Moss: Once again Miracle poses for the adoring fans…
Howley: But I have a bad feeling about this one…
Moss: And there it is….
That moment of lost focus allows Sarge to kick his feet free and he slides down the back of Miracle. Sarge grabs the waist of Miracle and lifts him off of his feet. He slams him to the mat face first and slides up to the head of Miracle. Sarge locks down Miracle with a side headlock and sprawls out on his belly.
Moss: Look at how quickly he was able to transition from the back to the head.
Howley: They must’ve taught him that in basic training. That move is so simple.
Moss: Says the guy announcing the match.
Slowly but surely Miracle is able to drag the two of them to the ropes and breaks the hold. Sarge quickly let’s go before a count could even be administered. Sarge gets to his feet first and lifts Miracle up to a solid base. Miracle is then whipped into the corner as Sarge rushes behind him. Miracle gets a boot up at the last possible second, staggering Sarge. Miracle quickly places Sarge in the corner and let’s off a massive chops to his chest that echoes through the arena.
Then he reaches back and throws another.
Miracle goes of a third one but Sarge managed to get both arms up and block it, then throws an elbow to the side of Miracle’s head. Then Sarge manages to get Miracle in the corner and drives a shoulder into his gut. Not once or twice, or even three times. On the fourth one Miracle slumps over on top of Sarge, who lifts him up and carries him to the middle of the ring and slams him to the mat.
Moss: Sarge with a massive slam.
Howley: But it wasn’t quite enough to keep Derek down.
Miracle manages to get a shoulder up before the three count. Keeping himself focused Sarge slaps the mat and sits up. Miracle manages to get to his feet at the same time as Sarge. The two men exchange a flurry of blows back and forth, before Miracle takes the upper hand. With a quick kick to the stomach Miracle DDT’s Sarge in the middle of the ring. Miracle goes for a pin.
Moss: We almost had a winner there.
Howley: Almost only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades.
Moss: Well I’m sure there are a few other spots too, but message received. Wonder if Morscle is going to be able to capitalize on this.
Sarge gets his left shoulder up. Miracle slams his closed fist on the mat and picks up Sarge. Miracle slaps his face and grabs him by the throat. With his free arm Miracle flexes, and he lifts Sarge up.
Moss: Miracle is going for his choke slam!
But Sarge won’t go that easily. So Miracle tries again and again it’s blocked. Miracle tries for a third time but Sarge clearly had this move scouted and grabs the wrist of Miracle. Grabbing the right wrist of Miracle and locks in a chicken wing behind Miracles back.
Howley: Holy crap! Did you see how quick that was?!?
Moss: I did and this doesn’t look too good for Miracle!
With one fluid motion Sarge has in the sleeper and locks his hands. Miracle struggles for a few moments. Arms and legs flailing, but it didn’t take too long for the hold to have complete control. The ref raises Miracle’s arm.
And Third time’s the charm.
Moss: No one gets away from The Long Arm of The Law!
Howley: Well except for…
Moss: Not now!
DING DING DING!
Robbins: The Winner of this match VIA submission… Sgt. Justice!
Harry Chest & Mystery Partner vs The Foreign Legion
Moss: Up next we’ve got a very interesting matchup!
Howley: You’re not kidding Moss, mostly because we don’t know all the participants!
Moss: Right you are! We’ve got the former Tag Team Champions, Foreign Legion going up against Harry Chest and a mystery partner! The question on everyone’s mind is who’s it going to be?
Howley: My money is on the Double Decker! We haven’t seen him in a while and I’d say he’s about due at this bus stop!
Moss: Let’s go to the ring and find out!
“New World Symphony, 4th Movement” by Antonin Dvorak hits the PA system as Harold Robbins steps through the ropes with a microphone. The fans start to boo as Eddie Dante moves through the curtain followed by his brutes.
Robbins: Coming to the ring first, at a total combined weight of 532 pounds… Accompanied by their manager, Eddie Dante…. This is Mushigahara….Leon Van Zandt… THE FOREIGN LEGION!
They make their way to ringside ignoring the fans as they walk. They enter the ring and the intimidating Mushi steps over the top rope and raises his arms high into the air.
Their music is cut off by that of Harry Chest’s
The house lights flicker as “Let It Rock” by Bon Jovi plays throughout the venue. The slow build of the guitar riff primes the crowd for the appearance of their hero in tights.
At the apex of the song, Harry Chest walks out on stage sporting his flashy smile and signature heroically caped attire.
He marches to the ring and misses most hand slaps with the fans. His hair is gelled back and his chest is pushed out with pride. About three quarters of the way down to the ring he stops, and sizes up his opponents. He then looks back towards the curtain and out comes…
Moss: Who’s it going to be Thunderbird!?
Howley: Who is that!?
Moss: That’s Marty! Marty Murdoch! He’s part of our ring crew and backstage help! What’s he doing out here!
The wrestler steps through the curtain unsure of himself. He looks out into the crowd and gulps really hard. His nervousness is evident from the beads of sweat on his forehead. He looks down at Harry Chest who goads him into walking down a little faster.
Robbins: And their opponents… at a total combined weight of 415 pounds…. The team of MARTY MURDOCH & HARRY CHEST!
Moss: Chest has helped Murdoch out of a pickle recently in regards to a couple bullies in the Foreign Legion, now it appears Chest has given Marty his shot at redemption!
Howley: Yea but does he want it!? Look at him! He’s gotta be 90 pounds soaking wet Moss!
Marty never actually enters the ring, when he reaches the apron he becomes almost frozen in place. Harry tells him to stay there and he’ll start the match. He’s starting against LVZ.
The bell rings and Harry goes to remove his cape. As he does he’s attacked from behind by the very technically sound Leon Van Zandt. On the outside Eddie Dante is pleased. Van Zandt tosses the cape unceremoniously over the top rope to the outside and begins an onslaught of forearm strikes to the shoulders and back of Chest.
Marty watches in fear as LVZ pulls Chest to the center of the ring by the arm and wrenches him down to the mat hard. Sitting on the shoulder of our resident superhero, Leon yanks the arm back and hooks in a quick armbar. Harry goes for the ropes but is too far away. He tries to power his way up and with some help from the fans clapping, he’s able to fight his way back up to a vertical base.
The Foreign Legion are able to keep control as LVZ drops an elbow into the arm of Harry and holds onto it before tagging in his enormous tag team partner.
Moss: Here comes Mushigahara!
Howley: Watch out!
An Ax Handle Smash on the back of the neck of Harry Chest sends him sprawling once more. The big man than stalks over to his opponents corner but Murdoch seems him coming and jumps down off the apron rather than come face to fist with Mushigahara.
Mushi turns around and goes back to work on Harry Chest. When he gets back up Mushi vaults him off the ropes. Attempting a clothesline that might behead the hero, Mushi puts everything he’s got into it but Harry Chest is able to slide underneath the attack. As the lumbering giant turns around it’s Harry Chest’s feet that find their place.
Howley: LOOK AT THE HEIGHT ON THAT DROPKICK!
The big man rocks, Harry is up and dives at the back of the leg of former tag team champion. Mushi hits the mat hard and finally Harry has the chance to look towards his own corner. When he and Marty lock eyes, Marty’s face twists into a look of worry. Harry starts nodding and encouraging his partner as he walks over. Just before Harry can make a tag Leon Van Zandt darts across the ring and blasts Harry from behind, knocking him through the ropes and to the outside.
Moss: What a cheapshot!
LVZ then darts over and throws an elbow that connects with Marty sending him falling to the arena floor also. Leon then moves over to Mushi and stands directly over top of him.
Leon Van Zandt: GET UP! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!? YOU FAT PIECE OF….
He reaches down and slaps Mushigahara which immediately riles the big man. He stands right up to his feet and gets in the face of LVZ. The fans hush as they don’t know what’s coming. Outside Eddie Dante barks at both men to keep focused. Outside Harry and Marty are coordinating.
Moss: I don’t think The Foreign Legion is paying attention!
On opposite turnbuckles are Marty Murdoch and Harry Chest. The pair of foreigners are in the ring still yelling at one another. The fans start to rumble and as both LVZ and Mushi turn their opponents jump in near unison. Crossbody block by Harry Chest, Missile Dropkick by Marty sends everyone in the match to the mat hard. The classic fans explode as the official starts to sort out the illegal men.
Howley: Thats how you regain control Moss! High risk and highly effective.
Moss: I’ll say! Marty runs to his corner now and wills on Harry! Here he comes… and TAG! Marty is now the legal man.
Marty comes running in pumping his fists. As LVZ gets up he catches a couple right hands and then a big running kick that sends him through the second rope. The fans get louder as tiny Marty starts to gain momentum.
Moss: Look at him go! Get em Marty!
He turns around and finds Mushigahara who’s on one knee. Marty punches him, once, twice, three times. Mushi eventually stands up through the onslaught and Murdoch is able to see the full size of what he’s attacking. His eyes go wide but he doesn’t give up. Running off the ropes Marty tries to go as fast as he can and comes back with a diving clothesline.
Howley: MushroomGary is rocking!
Moss: That’s Mushigahara!
Marty comes off the ropes again and dives once more. This time Mushi catches him in midair and tosses him back down to the mat hard with a fall away slam that shakes the ring. Marty arches his back in pain once he’s able to stop rolling.
With Eddie Dante pleased on the outside, Mushi gets to work on the young upstart. Body slam after body slam leaves the rookie hurting. The GodBeast picks up Marty over and over again before slamming him down relentlessly.
Moss: If Murdoch doesn’t do something quick, this match is going to be over in no time!
Howley: This match!? His career is going to be over Moss!
With victory in hand, Mushigahara tags in Leon Van Zandt. Mushi goes to get out of the ring, but LVZ pulls him back in. He tells him to hook the young wrestler so he could hit him. Mushi goes to leave again but LVZ once more insists the big man help him. Reluctantly Mushi complies and picks up Marty once more. He puts him in a full nelson position. LVZ runs off the ropes and goes for a flying kick. Marty is aware enough to see it coming and falls to his ass.
Moss: HE MISSED! HE HIT MUSHIGAHARA!
Mushi falls through the ropes. Eddie Dante loses it on the outside. Marty crawls across the ring with haste. The fans get louder the closer he gets to Harry Chest.
Howley: HERE COMES HARRY CHEST! Van Zandt is confused!
LVZ turns and Harry kicks him in the gut and plants him.
Moss: CHIN DIMPLER!
Howley: What a jawbreaker!
Harry makes the cover, the referee slides into position. Eddie Dante tries to get Mushi back in the ring to break it up. Marty lies face down in his corner.
The fans explode as Harry Chest jumps off of LVZ. He rushes over to his tag team partner and lifts his nearly lifeless body off the mat. Waking him up in the corner, Harry tries to convey they won.
Robbins: Ladies and Gentlemen your winners…. MARTY MURDOCH AND HARRY CHEST!
Murdoch hears his name and comes alive. He gets very excited with his arms in the air. On the outside the losers of the match argue with one another once more.
Moss: Who would have thought! Harry Chest and Murdoch get it done!
Howley: Anyone can win any given match! Especially here in Classic Wrestling!
PAC #1 Contender Match: Scott Hunter vs Holo Make
“Burning Heart” by Survivor plays over the PA system, and after a few beats Scott Hunter appears through the curtain to the massive applause of the crowd. Hunter poses at the top of the ramp for a moment before making his way down the ramp.
Robbins: Introducing first from Miami Florida, weighing in at Two Hundred and Forty Five pounds. He is SCOTTTTTTTT HUNNNNNNTER!
Hunter continues down the ramp, high diving fans on his way down. As he approaches the ring he climbs up the stairs quickly and poses once again before climbing into the ring. Hunter rushes over to his corner and climbs again, as the crowd is firmly behind him. As he hops down he gets checked by the referee.
Moss: Scott Hunter has been with us for a long time and tonight he gets his opportunity to….
Before Moss could finish “Wherever I May Roam” by Metallica starts to play and The Pale Rider himself, Holo Make, steps out onto the stage. He looks out at the crowd, eyes wide as if taking in the people around him. He stalks down to the ring, spooking some of the audience members who get too close. Otherwise, his eyes are focused on the ring with interest.
Robbins: And his opponent from A Lost island In the Pacific, weighing it at Three Hundred and Seventy Four pounds….. He is The Pale Rider…. HOLLLLLOOOO MAAAAKKKKKKEEE!
Once he reaches ringside, Holo Make climbs onto the steps, crawling onto the apron and entering the ring. He looks to the nearest camera and grabs it. He brings it to his face, shouting “I ka mōʻī wahine ʻo Lili’uokalani” into it before shoving it back. Holo begins to pace around the ring, waiting impatiently as the ref begins to check him as well.
Moss: This one is going to be interesting. Scott Hunter has been looking for a big win and tonight he can become the Number one contender for the Premier American Championship.
Howley: Unfortunately he’s gotta go through a beast of a man like Holo Make to get there.
Moss: Well both men are in the ring just waiting for….
Moss: That, let’s get to the action!
Once the bell rings Holo cracks his neck and begins to stalk the smaller Hunter. Hunter keeps his distance from the massive Holo Make. Using his speed to his advantage Hunter slides out under the bottom rope and waits for Holo to make a move. It didn’t take long for Hunter to realize this wasn’t going to work so he slowly got into the ring, keeping an eye on Holo the entire time. Holo grabs at Hunter who rolls out of the way and into the middle of the ring and behind Holo. Hunter kicks the back of Holo’s leg a few times before Holo spins around and swings at Hunter.
Moss: Hunter knows he has to take out the legs of the Bigger Holo Make, and avoid large swings.
Howley: Like he did right there. He’s gotta use his speed to his advantage.
Hunter ducks the strike and kicks the side of Holo’s right leg. Staggering Holo for a moment, which was long enough for Hunter to throw an elbow to the side of Holo’s face. Still staggered Holo tries to brush the elbow off, but when he looks up he sees a flying Hunter take him down to the mat with a leaping cross body, Hunter stays on top for a pin.
Moss: Holo Make made that look easy.
Howley: Because it was. That wasn’t going to get the job done and we all know that.
Holo gets out of the pin almost immediately, but is met by a barrage of stomps and kicks as he tries to get to his feet. On all fours Holo senses relief for a brief moment as Hunter runs at him again and drop kicks him in the side of the head. Holo reels from the blow and rolls out of the ring and onto the floor.
Moss: This looks like what Hunter wanted all along. Remember he tried to goad the bigger man outside.
Howley: Just remember, you get what you receive but that doesn’t mean there aren’t consequences.
Hunter climbs onto the apron and leaps off towards a now standing Holo. The move backfires as Holo grabs Hunter and walks him around the ring, limping noticeably, before slamming him onto the ground. Holo uses the ring for balance and stands on the chest of Hunter outside of the ring.
Moss: Holo is crushing the chest of Hunter and bad knee and all that’s a lot of man on your chest.
Howley: Too easy.
Moss: Grow up.
The ref begins to count but it doesn’t matter, Holo stays on top of Hunter until the six count before picking him up and throwing him under the bottom rope into the ring. Holo takes a moment to shake out his leg and decides to use the ring steps to get into the ring. Hunter waits for his moment and the second Holo has one foot into the ring he launches himself at it and drives his shoulder into it.
Moss: Hunter stays on the leg of Holo.
Howley: It’s the target he set on since the beginning of the match and it’s beginning to pay dividends. Holo is clearly slowed by this.
Moss: It was smart to go after the leg and keep up on it.
Holo fights to get back into the ring but Hunter looks ravenous on the leg, punching it over and over again. Holo gets into the ring and manages to shake Hunter off. As Hunter gets to his feet, Holo unfortunately has his back to him. Hunter takes out the leg of Holo with a chop block to the back of his bad knee. Hunter stays on the attack and rolls Holo over, holding his leg Hunter drives an elbow to the knee. Wrenching down and pulling back.
Moss: That leg has to be primed by now.
Howley: I agree, it can’t be long before…
Moss: There it is!
Hunter doesn’t stop there he signals to the crowd that it’s time, and as he gets to his feet and steps through Holo plants a foot on his backside and shoves him clear across the ring. Holo uses the ropes to get to his feet as Hunter collects himself as well. Hunter is first to react and rushes towards Holo.
Moss: Mere seconds after flying halfway to California, Hunter returns and is met by a massive boot.
Howley: But you can see the damage done to the knee of Holo Make clearly hampering his abilities.
But is met by a massive boot to the face, however Holo crumbles to the mat as well after the move. Holo manages to get an arm across the chest of Hunter.
Moss: Almost. We almost had a winner.
Howley: That was closer than I expected.
Hunter kicks out. Holo begins to rub and smack his knee as Hunter gets the cobwebs out of his head. Both men take their time getting to their feet, but Hunter is the first to react. Rushing at Holo, but is scooped up at the last possible second for a massive sidewalk slam.
Moss: The knee of Holo didn’t make a difference there, Hunter is laid out flat in the middle of the ring.
Howley: Holo still isn’t in the best shape either, using the ropes and corner to get to his feet.
Holo gets to his feet and stands in the corner waiting for Hunter to get to his feet. Once he does, Holo takes off towards Hunter. As he turns around Holo has already left his feet and it was too late.
Moss: Aina I Ka Pono!!!
Holo hooks the legs as the ref counts.
Howley: You can count to a hundred, this is over.
Robbins: The winner of this match VIA pinfall, and the New Number One Contender for the Premier American Championship… HOLO MAKE!!!
Loaded Sock on a Pole: Bobby Dean vs Undercover Lover
We come back to ringside for our next match, with Moss and Howley standing by on commentary!
Moss: Well folks, it’s been a crazy night already but things are about to get even crazier with our next contest! After weeks of calling each other out, Bobby Dean and Undercover Lover go at it with a loaded sock on a pole…but Thunderbird, what in the world could be IN that sock?
Howley: Violence, Moss, simple as that.
With that we head to the ring itself, making note of the loaded sock attached to a pole in the corner as Harold Robbins is ready for match introductions.
Robbins: Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall with a loaded sock on a pole! Introducing first…
“You’re The Best” hits the sound system, signaling the arrival of Bobby Dean preceded by his tag partner Lunchbox Larry. The crowd cheers for their favorite as Bobby makes his way toward the ring…with Lunchbox Larry following close behind, of course.
Robbins: Making his way to the ring from the Third Stall on the Right by way of the Nearest Men’s Room…weighing in at a whopping 369…and a half pounds…he is BEAUTIFUL…BOBBY…DEEEEEEAAAANNNNNN!
Bobby and Larry approach the ring at last, with Bobby entering as Larry stays nearby. Bobby readies himself for this match,
Robbins: And his opponent…
“Hello It’s Me” plays over the sound system, garnering some immediate boos from the crowd as Undercover Lover makes his way toward the ring, relishing in the reaction with a smirk on his face. He stares Bobby Dean down as he approaches the ring, Larry looking very hesitant to get involved as the Lover enters the ring…only to get blindsided by Bobby Dean! Bobby has no interest in wasting time tonight as the ref calls for the bell to start this match!
Bobby stays on the attack with some clubbing elbows to the back of the Lover, before sending him to the corner opposite where the sock pole stands. Bobby immediately turns his attention to the pole, looking to gain possession of it ASAP…but the Lover doesn’t let him off easily, catching him with a forearm to the back of the head…and another one…and another one! The crowd is booing heavily as Lover continues to wear Bobby Dean down!
Moss: Lover really looking to have his way with Bobby Dean tonight!
Howley: It’s all about that pride, that passion Moss! Lovin’ isn’t easy!
Lover stays on top of things as he repeatedly hits Dean with an elbow, before the Beautiful one can turn things around sending the Lover facefirst into the turnbuckle! With the masked sensation down, Bobby tries to climb OVER him to reach for the sock…but gets dropped to his back by the Lover with a loud THUD!
Moss: The arena here in Columbus was just about shaken up from that one, Howley! Looks like trouble ahead for Bobby!
Howley: There goes the Lover now, he could very well get that sock!
Lover is up on the second rope, trying to detach the sock from the pole…but Bobby is back to his feet, huffing and puffing as he cuts the distance between him and the Lover with haste, before hoisting him up off the turnbuckle…and slamming him to the canvas!
Moss: WOW! Was that…was that a suplex by Bobby Dean!?
Howley: Big-time matches like this can bring the best out of anyone, Moss!
With Lover down and out after that impact, Bobby is able to climb one step up and just barely grab the sock! It’s in his possession now, and he has the right to use it as he sees fit…just as Lover slowly gets back to his feet! With some angry eyes the Beautiful one takes a swing at the Lover with the loaded sock…connecting with a loud THWACK to the amazement of the crowd! Feeling a bit out of it from the expended energy, Bobby drops down on top of the Lover for the count!
Lover tries to squirm his way out, but the sheer size of Bobby Dean was too much as the ref calls for the bell!
DING! DING! DING!
Robbins: Ladies and gentlemen, here is your winner…BEAUTIFUL! BOBBY! DEEEEAAAAAANNNNNN!
Larry slides into the ring to assist the ref in helping Bobby to his feet, before they raise his arms in victory to the crowd’s joy as we cut to commentary.
Moss: These two went at it hard tonight folks, but it was Bobby Dean coming out on top by getting that loaded sock down from the pole and picking up a HUGE win over the Undercover Lover in the process!
Howley: I swear we’re gonna end up on some sort of list for these jokes, Moss.
Moss: Folks, in just a moment we’ll be back for more action with the World Tag Team Championship on the line between Surf Express Bro and the champions, the Amazing Amarettos!
WORLD TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP: Surf Express Bro vs The Amazing Amarettos (C)
Moss: And here we go, folks! World Tag Team Championship is on the line as Surf Express Bro take on the Amazing Amarettos!
Howley: Time to see if these surfers can hang ten with the greatest magicians in the world!
We go to the ring where Harold Robbins is standing by for introductions!
Robbins: Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall, and it is for the World Tag Team Championship! Introducing first, the challengers…
The familiar guitar licks and drum beats to “Nothin’ But a Good Time” by Poison hit your eardrums and from the back bounds Bowie Abrams and Bradlee Nelson in matching long tights and miles-wide smiles.
Robbins: Coming to the ring from Pocatello, Idaho at a combined weight of 417 pounds, the team of Bowie Abrams and Bradlee Nelson…SURF EXPRESS BROOOOO!
They play to the audience here in Columbus, getting them into the show as they make their way to the ring. Once they’re between the ropes, they’ll flex and pose a bit for the laaaaadies as they get ready for the match.
Robbins: And their opponents…
KA-BOOM! Twin explosions create twin rising plumes of purple smoke, and the Amazing Amarettos, Carlo and Gomez, “magically” appear on the stage. They regale the crowd as they flourish their capes, twirl their wands, and tip their top hats to the audience in perfectly coordination with each other. Their lovely assistant Suzie steps out through the entry-way in a rather normal, non-magical fashion, and her eyes roll back as she holds out her arms in a half-assed show of presentation. The brothers pose with absolute pomp and majesty before all three make their way down to the ring.
Robbins: Making their way to the ring accompanied by their lovely assistant Suzie, at a combined weight of 480 pounds, they are the World Tag Team Champions, the team of Carlo and Gomez…THE AMAAAAAZING AMARETTOOOOOOS!
The Amarettos perform all manner of magic tricks as they walk down the ramp, conjuring up all manner of cards, quarters, scarves, confetti, pigeons, and flower bouquets seemingly out of thin air. Carlo and Gomez climb up to the ring from opposite corners and converge at the center of the apron, where they take Suzie by either hand and delicately “levitate” her off the floor, over the ropes, and into the ring before stepping through the ropes themselves. With all three in the ring, they again pose majestically for the audience before finally preparing for this championship bout…and the ref calls for the bell to start us off!
We start things off with Bradlee and Gomez, who circle around each other looking for an opening. Gomez goes for a tie-up but Bradlee quickly takes him down with a drop toe hold before getting to his feet, waiting for the champ to do the same. Gomez obliges, and the two finally lock up…and now it’s Gomez getting an upper hand, sending Bradlee to the ropes with an Irish whip! Gomez with a clothesline on the rebound…but Bradlee ducks under! Bradlee hits the opposite ropes, using it as a springboard for a surprise crossbody on Gomez!
Moss: Wow, Bradlee Nelson really taking it to Gomez Amaretto in the early going!
Howley: But can he keep the momentum on his side?
It’s a question that Bradlee never gets a chance to answer, as Gomez is already back on his feet and going after the challenger with a flurry of offense! Bradlee is sent to his corner, but manages to make a tag to Bowie in the process! The crowd is ecstatic as Abrams comes running in, making a beeline for Gomez with some great strikes that keep the champ at bay until Bowie hits a dropkick, sending the champ through the ropes and to the outside! Carlo goes running around to aid Gomez, as Bowie heads to the ropes for speed…and dives over the top onto the champions!
Moss: Oh my, all three men are down and out!
Howley: Bit of a dumb move there by Bowie if you ask me, you can’t win the titles on a count out!
Sure enough, the ref has already begun his count, getting to 2 as Bowie and Gomez slowly make their way back to their feet…and the ref is at 5 when Gomez finally gets in the ring! Before he can slide in as well, we see that Bowie is stuck…with an arm reaching out and clutching him by the ankle! The ref is at 6 now, and 7 as Bowie yanks his leg back…revealing Suzie was underneath! The lovely assistant finally lets go as the ref reaches 8, but that’s enough time for Bowie to slide in and avoid the count out! Unfortunately for him, the distraction creates an opening for Gomez to exploit as he hits a knee to the face of Abrams!
Moss: Wow, the champ with a cheap shot after Suzie nearly cost Bowie the match here!
Howley: All’s fair in love and title matches, Moss!
Bowie is down as Gomez goes for the cover…but Bradlee manages to break the count right around 2! This frustrates the magician, but he shakes it off as Carlo reaches out from the corner. Tag made between the champions, who start double-teaming Bowie with some hard punches and kicks to wear the surfer down. Gomez finally leaves the ring, giving Carlo a chance to keep on the attack before sending Abrams down with a snapmare. He follows this up with a swift and hard kick to the back of the spine, much to the chagrin of both Abrams and the crowd!
Moss: Carlo showing an extra bit of aggression by the looks of things with that kick!
Howley: That’s because he is an artist, Moss, and you WILL respect his artistry! Bowie’s learning that lesson the hard way here!
Carlo brings Bowie back to his feet after that kick, but Abrams catches the magician with a jawbreaker! The impact sends Carlo reeling toward the corner as Bowie turns his attention to Bradlee, reaching out in the hopes of getting tagged back in. Bowie crawls in that direction…but is cut off by a blindside attack from Carlos, a stomp to the head keeping Abrams down! Carlo taunts Bradlee in the corner as he brings Bowie to his feet once more, sending the surfer to the ropes for a clothesline…but he suffers the same fate as Gomez earlier, as Bowie ducks it! He shifts direction enough, and makes the hot tag to Bradlee!
Moss: Here we go, folks! Bradlee looks fresh and ready to go to work!
Howley: He better not get too cocky, Moss!
Like a bat out of hell, Bradlee rushes in with a flurry of offense that sends Carlo down to the canvas hard! He makes a beeline for Gomez, looking to keep the other Amaretto out of action…but Gomez catches him with a forearm to the head! Bradlee is dazed by this, giving Carlo a chance to roll Bradlee up! It’s the most dangerous move in all of professional wrestling, but will it be enough for the champ to retain?
Moss: Good lord, Bradlee managed to kick out despite the sneak attack by Gomez!
Howley: I can’t believe Carlo borrowed a page from Randall Schwartz there! If only he was here now…
Bradlee rolls out of the way of a now frustrated Carlo, who calls Gomez in to even things up. This prompts Bowie to hop in as well, and things have broken down into an all-out brawl between the competitors! Somewhere in the mix up, we see Suzie pull out a magic wand, sliding it into the ring for Carlo to use…but it gets kicked right out of the ring by the ref, who won’t have any of THAT tonight! The ref manages to maintain control, forcing Gomez and Bowie back to their respective corners…but while the ref is distracted calming Bowie down, we see Carlo and Gomez pull the ol’ switcheroo!
Moss: Oh no, not this again! They’re not even wearing the same TIE tonight!
Howley: How dare you, Moss! I refuse to stand for your tie slander.
They both climb the turnbuckle, hitting a double elbow drop after some much-needed theatrics! THE AMAZING ATOM-SMASHER! Gomez…or is it Carlo…goes for the cover as the ref makes the count!
DING! DING! DING!
Robbins: Here are your winners, and STILL the World Tag Team Champions…THE AMAZING AMARETTOOOOOS!
The crowd show their disapproval as the champions accept the ref raising their arm in victory, much to the chagrin of Bowie who checks on Bradlee before we cut to commentary!
Moss: I can’t believe those Amarettos pulled off that dirty play tonight, in what was an excellent match up to that point!
Howley: I have no clue what you’re talking about Moss, they retain those belts the hard way tonight!
Moss: It really makes you wonder who can stop these magicians and take those tag belts, but I think the Surf Express Bro will want a bit of revenge for tonight sooner rather than later!
Grudge Match: Alex Bruder vs Freddy Kilgore
Moss: Ladies and gentlemen, up next we have a grudge match between… well, what couldn’t be more polar opposites.
Howley: Opposites? Just say it, Moss. One of them is a cartoon character – and Alex Bruder is going to show him what a real wrestler can do right here tonight.
Moss: I’m not so sure about that, partner. Freddy Kilgore has been on a warpath ever since Bruder threatened our esteemed colleague Otto Price. He is a man on a mission… and one that Alex Bruder may not be able to avoid.
The arena lights dim, and Megadeth’s “Train of Consequences” begins to play. “All Business” Alex Bruder emerges from the curtains, lit by a solitary spotlight.
Moss: Bruder marching to the ring with his usual stern demeanor. All of this ill will started back in December, when Alex Bruder unwrapped a box with Freddy Kilgore’s name in it.
Howley: I promise foks, it makes sense in context.
Moss: ”Feral” Freddy Kilgore took him out with the Call of the Wild that night, but in January Bruder returned the favor when he trapped Kilgore in the Cobra Clutch in a tag team match.
Howley: This isn’t soccer, folks, this is wrestling, so tonight we break that tie and see who is the superior professional wrestler.
Bruder climbs the steps, wipes his boots against the apron, and then enters the ring, heading toward the far corner.
Robbins: In the ring at this time, weighing in at 238 Lbs, Hailing from Hillsboro, NC. All Business….ALEX BRUDER!
Alex settles into a deep squat in the corner, his eyes locked on the entrance ramp.
The opening chords of “Wild Side” by Motley Crue fill the arena and the fans rise to their feet in anticipation, as that can only mean one thing – the arrival of “Feral” Freddy Kilgore! Papa Wild Thang himself appears from behind the curtain, with his lovely valet “Wild” Kat Diamond coming up right behind him. The loud colors on Kilgore and Diamond’s outfits are in sync tonight. Kat jumps on Kilgore’s back with an arm around his head for support as he lifts her high into the air and they both let out a primal howl that is answered by the Little Wildhearts in attendance.
Moss: And while Alex Bruder may be all business, few entrances in Classic Wrestling get the people going like Freddy Kilgore’s!
Kilgore puts Kat down as he turns and races to the ring at full speed. He slides under the bottom rope and jumps up to the top turnbuckle, flexing and posing for all the world to see.
Robbins: And his opponent, being accompanied to the ring by “Wild” Kat Diamond… weighing in at 282 lbs… from The Wild Side… “FERAL!” FREDDY! KILGORE!
Kilgore hops down from the apron, clapping his hands and marching around the ring while eyeballing the contrastingly cool-headed Alex Bruder. The fans begin to clap along.
As the fans roar at the official start of the contest, Bruder and Kilgore waste no time in charging into the center of the ring for the lock up! They jockey for position for a few seconds… until Freddy Kilgore just SHOVES Bruder backwards! All Business takes a tumble before using the ropes to right himself. Kilgore, meanwhile, celebrates this first shot by leaning over the ring ropes to howl out into his Wild Hearts! With Wild Kat leading the charge, the people respond in kind with howls of their own!
Moss: Listen to the people!
Howley: It’s not a popularity contest. You’ve got to pin the man in the center of the ring, not dance around until he quits in disgust.
With the people in the palm of his hand, Papa Wild Thang turns back to his opponent. Bruder is quite indignant as he gets back to his feet, but he rushes back in right away for a second lock up. This time, before the larger Kilgore can rely again on his power, Bruder moves quickly to take control with a wrist lock. Using the bent wrist for leverage, he quickly transitions into a hammerlock, now using Kilgore’s whole arm to control the wild beast. Kilgore snarls in frustration as Bruder controls the arm, and then All Business continues to show his technical mastery as he slides over into a headlock, wrapping his arms around Kilgore’s skull. With a superior smirk, Bruder cranks it in as the fans express their displeasure.
Howley: See there, Moss? When the prancing around like a fool stops, the man who actually knows what he’s doing in that ring takes control. Kilgore’s power isn’t going to mean much with the way Bruder can control another man in between the ropes.
Howley appears to be correct as Bruder continues to bear down with his headlock. But All Business’ eyes widen when Papa Wild Thang, flexing his muscles, attempts to power out of the hold… and he sends Bruder into the ropes. On the rebound, Bruder can’t stop himself in time before being sent ass over teakettle with a monstrous shoulder block! Bruder again scrambles out of harm’s way as Kilgore stomps around the ring to the approval of the crowd.
Moss: I wouldn’t discount the power factor just yet, partner.
The cheers turn to jeers as Alex Bruder, not a fan of this turn of events, has rolled under the bottom ropes and out of the ring. Kilgore approaches the ropes in frustration, but he is told to stay back by referee Kevin Clady. Kilgore protests, motioning to Bruder and turning to the crowd for support, but Clady simply tells him to stay in the ring as he turns to begin a ten count.
ONE! TWO! THREE!
Outside the ring, Bruder paces with his hands on his hips as he mentally regroups. The ringside fans are giving him hell but he’s not acknowledging it in the slightest.
FOUR! FIVE! SIX!
Kilgore holds down the bottom rope and motions for Bruder to re-enter the ring. All Business shakes his head and motions for Kilgore to back up before he even thinks about it.
SEVEN! EIGHT! NINE!
At the last second, Alex Bruder hops onto the apron to avoid a count out loss. Bruder scolds Clady, demanding that he force Papa Wild Thang to step back before he comes back in. Clady obliges, putting two hands on Kilgore’s chest to guide the rambunctious wrestler away from the ropes. With a head shake of disgust, Bruder decides to enter the ring… but he has no time to react to Freddy Kilgore breaking free of Clady’s embrace and rushing him! Papa Wild Thang lights Bruder up with big clubbing right hands as All Business tries to cover up!
Howley: This is a competition! There are rules! This is the guy that little kids look up to?
Moss: Bruder made this personal when he involved Otto Price – I don’t think Kilgore thinks of this as just another athletic contest.
Bruder tries to take refuge in the corner, but this just puts him in the perfect position for Kilgore to mount the second rope. Looking down and smiling at the top of Alex’s head, Kilgore points out into the people who respond in kind. Balling a fist, Kilgore unloads with big right hands as the people count along…
Kilgore stops, cupping his hands to his mouth, and letting loose a ferocious howl before he completes the ten punch combo. Jumping down off the second rope, he whips Bruder across the ring where he collides into the opposite turnbuckle. Eyeing his prey, the hungry predator charges across the ring after Bruder… but Alex manages to dodge out of his path at the last second! Freddy Kilgore hits the turnbuckle chest first and falls backwards, holding his chest in pain.
Bruder drops a knee across the barrel chest of Kilgore, and drags him back to his feet.
Moss: Not sure this is the smartest move. On the mat, Bruder may just have the advantage, but on their feet, Kilgore is a head taller.
Alex fires off a few body shots to Kilgore as Clady warns him about the closed fists, and whips him into the ropes. On the return, he catches the Apex Predator with a drop toe hold, and quickly rolls over the downed man and applies a wrenching headlock, forcing Freddy’s torso off the mat as he cranks the hold.
Howley: I’ve been on the other end of moves just like this. All Business is making it hard for Kilgore to breathe.
Moss: Undoubtedly, but he is fighting for position.
Indeed, Kilgore is able to get his arms underneath his chest, raising his center of gravity and forcing Bruder to stop cranking his head back. Then he brings his right knee under him, and then his left. His palms on the mat, Kilgore pushes up, willing himself to a kneeling position, as Bruder loses his leverage.
Moss: My goodness! Bruder releases the head lock, but hits Kilgore with a rapid set of cross faces!
Howley: Perfectly legal. Clady has a clear eye on it.
Kilgore’s head rocks with each shot, but then he continues shaking his head! He lifts his arms to the sky, and then stands tall, flexing his biceps with his arms in front of him! The crowd roars…and stops as Bruder knees him in the abdomen. Another whip to the ropes, and Bruder lowers his shoulders to toss the big man into the air, but Feral Freddy Kilgore has time to react and punts him in the chest.
“Wild” Kat Diamond cheers on her man from the outside as Kilgore deadlifts Bruder over his head for a press slam. Pressing him in the air once, then twice, but the third time Bruder rakes his eyes, and drops to the mat behind him.
Bruder runs the ropes behind him, and catches Kilgore with a chop block, sending him to the mat once more. Instantly he grabs the ankle, and grabs a single leg crab. He arches his back until it’s nearly touching Kilgore’s.
Howley: Those aren’t the howls the crowd is used to hearing from Kilgore.
Moss: Bruder has always claimed to be a master technician. Can he make “Feral” Freddy Kilgore submit here?
Kilgore’s length is an advantage, as his eyes lock onthe nearest rope. He starts to crawl towards it, again forcing Bruder to sit up and reduce the torque on the hold.
On his belly, he army crawls, inches at a time, while Bruder fights a losing battle to keep him in place. He lunges forward again, now mere inches from the bottom rope! One more lunge….
Moss: He makes it! Kevin Clady is telling Alex Bruder to release the hold.
Reluctantly Bruder releases the hold. Freddy Kilgore pulls himself up to his feet using the ropes, and turns to face his opponent, who has timed it just right to nail him with a running forearm blow.
Kilgore isn’t pushed back. Kilgore isn’t rocked. Kilgore isn’t bothered. He snorts at the smaller man, and the crowd explodes! Bruder seems somewhat concerned with this development as Kilgore begins stomping around the ring, firing up the people and flexing. Bruder tries to take it to Kilgore to break his momentum, but his shots do little to stop Papa Wild Thang’s fury. Kilogre blocks another shot and hooks Bruder up in position for a fallaway slam. He holds him there just long enough to build some anticipation before tossing him overhead and to the mat below. Kilgore is feeling IT as he takes position in the corner, eyeing Alex Bruder and calling for the Call of the Wild.
Moss: If Freddy Kilgore connects with his signature boot to the face, this one will be over!
Kilgore measures Bruder, who is shaking his head to clear the cobwebs and slowly getting back to his feet. Just as Alex gets vertical, Freddy Kilgore charges… but again the cunning Bruder escapes, jumping out of the way and managing to push referee Kevin Clady in Kilgore’s path! Although Papa Wild Thang is able to stop himself from booting the referee in the face, he still can’t completely stop himself and he barrels into Clady with his entire 282 lb frame. Howley: See, Moss!? Kilgore just assaulted a helpless referee!
Moss: Clady is down… and Bruder hits Kilgore with a LOW BLOW! That’s the technical wrestler!?
Howley: I’m sure it was a mistake. Probably was aiming for the stomach.
Kilgore is on the mat, holding his little wild thangs in pain. Alex Bruder looks to Kilgore… looks to the ref… and a slow grin breaks out on his face. He rolls under the bottom rope… and approaches Kat Diamond!
Moss: Wait… he has no business with her.
Howley: He has ALL the business… haven’t you been paying attention?
The spitfire Kat stands her ground as Bruder approaches. We can’t hear what he says, but Alex speaks with a smirk while Kat’s anger only intensifies. To the fan’s approval, she rears back to unleash a slap to Bruder’s face… but the wily wrestler catches the shot and stops her hand’s momentum. A sweep of the leg puts Kat on her back, and the fans let Bruder know what they think about him as he reaches down and… removes one of her high heel shoes!?
Moss: I don’t like where this is going…
Bruder is back in the ring with Kat’s shoe in hand. Clady has just barely begun to stir, while Freddy Kilgore is up to a knee. Bruder lifts the stolen shoe high over his head, ready for it to collide with Kilgore’s face the moment he gets back to his feet.
Howley: How nice! He’s going to return the shoe.
Kilgore turns… Bruder swings…
…but Freddy catches it!! With a flex, he stops Bruder’s hand with his own. Alex’s eyes go wide as he is now staring into the face of a snarling wildman. Bruder begins to backpedal, but Kilgore has a vice grip. Bruder releases the shoe, but Kilgore catches it before it hits the mat. Still holding Bruder, Kilgore raises the shoe, the unspoken question to the fans: should we get some payback? The roar of the crowd indicates that yes… he should. With a grin, Kilgore brings the piece of footwear down right into Bruder’s face! Mr. All Business hits the mat, holding his head in pain… but Kilgore’s smile fades when he turns to face referee Kevin Clady… who saw the whole thing!
Howley: YES! CAUGHT IN THE ACT, MOSS!
Moss: Bruder introduced the shoe!
Kilgore begins to make his case to Clady, pantomiming that Bruder brought the shoe in and was going to hit him. Clady looks apologetic, but he has no choice but to signal for the bell!
Robbins: The winner of this contest… by DISQUALIFICATION… “All Business” Alex Bruder!!
This announcement is not a popular one. In the ring, Kilgore has his hands over his head in frustration as he tries to get the fans to help him get the referee to see the error of his ways. Bruder pulls himself into a seated position… and is very surprised to feel his hand raised in victory! That surprise turns into a smug satisfaction as he realizes what happened.
Moss: I have to say, Freddy Kilgore DID use the shoe… but if we were judging this contest on merit, Kilgore would have won by DQ himself at least twice before now.
Howley: It’s called being a loser. Bruder choked him out weeks ago, and now he’s outsmarted him here. This was a good one!
Freddy Kilgore, now joined in-ring by Kat Diamond, continues to motion frantically to the referee. The fans also do their part to sway his call. Bruder stumbles backwards down the aisle… grinning the entire way.
The Long Gong!
The familiar sound rings out around the arena, as “Big” Joe Geoue appears in the frame, standing in front of a Capital Clash banner.
Geoue: Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce at this time, the Premier American Champion, Shujin Yama.
The insidious Sensei Abe Lincoln slips into the shot, clad in his typical tuxedo and bowler hat. In his hands, he holds firm to a large pole with the Japanese flag atop it. He grins at “Big” Joe, and ushers him backwards, allowing space for the massive champion, Shujin Yama, to make his presence known. A massive robe, surprisingly void of any distinguishable pattern, coats his massive frame.
Lincoln: Yes, mmhmm. Premier American Champion. Still Premier American Champion. Forever Premier American Champion. Shujin Yama.
Yama folds his gigantic arms in front of his chest.
Geoue: Some have been saying that this is your biggest challenge yet. Shujin Yama, I would love to hear what you say to that.
Lincoln: Do you even need to ask?
Geoue: Uh… I was talking to Yama.
Lincoln looks surprised. And offended.
Lincoln: I speak for Shujin Yama.
Geoue: I get that, but I also note that your client seemed to have broken the vow of silence he took last year. It’s reasonable to assume that King Kong Frank has sufficiently gotten under his skin in order for that to occur.
Lincoln: You know nothing of Shujin Yama!
Lincoln: Frank-San has not gotten under Shujin Yama’s skin. Frank-San is merely convenient excuse for American idiot like you to ignore delicate technicalities. WHy did Shujin Yama make vow of silence, Joe-San?
Lincoln: Disrespect! He took vow because of disrespect! Disrespect offered by Classic Wrestling! By people like you! But that disrespect has continued, Joe-San! Shujin Yama is longest reigning champion in Classic Wrestling history, but still people do not give him respect he deserves!
Geoue: Then why did he break his vow?
Lincoln: Answer is much bigger than mere disrespect. Answer drives to very heart of who Shujin Yama is. Classic Wrestling fans chant for their country, and with every letter they sing, Shujin Yama is personally insulted. Shujin Yama is not just going to defeat Frank-San tonight to retain Premier American Championship. Shujin Yama is going to defeat Frank-San in order to prove that choices he made – flag he rose – was best choice he ever made.
He looks to the big man.
Geoue: Anything to add?
Lincoln leers at “Big” Joe, clearly unimpressed by continuing to be undermined like this. Yama pauses, giving Lincoln some comfort, but one massive tree trunk of a leg stepping forward gives him second doubt.
Shujin Yama takes centre stage.
Yama: U-S-A! U-S-A!
He taunts “Big” Joe with the chant, but it takes off with those in the crowd. Yama snickers and laughs.
Yama: This is the grand summation of King Kong Frank’s efforts. Three little letters. You think that they’ve had an impact on me, Joe? You think that Frank has gotten under my skin? Every time that we’ve been in the same ring, he’s wound up flat on the deck. What do I have to worry about?
“Big” Joe goes to speak, but Yama does not give him an opening.
Yama: Nothing. This isn’t about any threat that Frank might pose to me, it’s about the threat that I pose to him. Let’s not kid ourselves, Joe: the people here in The Mistake on the Lake can chant all they want, but I’m not entering into Frank’s world. He’s entering into mine. He is the invading force, not me! And I’m going to repel him, and anybody else who thinks that like him. Do you hear me?
He stands, inches away from “Big” Joe’s face, looking like he might eat the interviewer at any moment.
PREMIER AMERICAN CHAMPIONSHIP FLAG MATCH: King Kong Frank vs Shujin Yama (C)
That sound rings out again. The Japanese National Anthem starts up while Yama still stares a hole through “Big” Joe.
Joe steps back, flustered by the start of the music.
Geoue: Uh… it seems your music is already starting.
Yama: You’re damn right it is. Didn’t you hear what I said? No matter what they chant, I’m the Premier American Champion, and Frank is entering my world. He’s going to have to feel it too.
Yama pushes past the interviewer. Hissing at “Big Joe” on his way, Lincoln follows.
The camera then cuts to the ringside area, with the Japanese National Anthem still playing. Between their interview, and the entrance, Sensei Abe Lincoln has moved in front of his monster. He steps out onto the stage, waving the Japanese flag to a chorus of boos. It doesn’t take long for those boos to then fade into something else.
“U-S-A! U-S-A!” the crowd chants.
Lincoln rolls his eyes, and continues to wave the flag.
Behind him, Shujin Yama appears. He stops in the entranceway, standing in front of Lincoln, in the same bland robe he wore before. Taking a break from his flag-waving, Lincoln moves in behind Yama and unhooks the robe from his shoulders. He tosses it, casually, to the side.
Underneath, another robe is revealed. Dressed in cherry blossoms and kanji symbols, the robe is more decadent than anything that Yama had worn previously. In addition, a large, rising sun is painted across his back.
Lincoln waves the flag, furiously.
They march down to the ring.
“U-S-A! U-S-A!” the crowd continues to chant. While Sensei laughs and taunts them, the Premier American Champion ignores the noise, focusing solely on the ring. WHen they get there, Sensei Lincoln walks up the steps and holds the middle rope down for Yama to step through. He bows in the centre of the ring, as Sensei Lincoln unhooks the luxurious new robe. Once freed, Yama raises his left leg and drops into a dramatic sumo pose while shouting something incomprehensible to both English- and Japanese-speaking audiences.
The words may not have been understandable, but the sentiment still is.
This is the Nation of Yama.
And he doesn’t mean for that to change.
Cue-up: “Stranglehold” by Ted Nugent.
The CLASSIC fans in attendance collectively lose their minds. Inside the ring Sensei Lincoln does his level best to cover Yama’s ears and protect the Champion from the righteous indignation of The Nuge. The song shreds on.
Moss: Here we go, Thunderbird! Frank vs Yama! Flag vs Flag!
Howley: And the Premier American Championship is ON THE LINE!
A moment passes.
The music plays on, but there is no King Kong Frank. Back inside the ring Sensei Lincoln gets wise and he lets go of Yama’s ears only to start pointing down the aisle way and cackling. The champ allows a smirk to replace the stoic stare that he’s known for, but only for a moment. The word “coward” is bandied about somewhat loosely.
Moss: What’s going on? Where’s Frank?
Howley: You don’t think he’d wuss-out, do ya Moss?
Moss: Are you being serious right now?
The music dies down and the air is seemingly sucked out of the room. Another moment passes before Sensei Lincoln begins to declare Yama the winner by forfeit.
The voice is loud, commanding, and authoritative all at the same time.
“Before you two INGRATES get yer britches all bunched up an’ start countin’ yer chickens before they hatch, maybe you wanna PAY ATTENTION!”
Howley: WHAT IS UNCLE SAM DOING IN THE CLASSIC ZONE?
Moss: Are you okay, T-bird?
The attention of everyone in attendance switches to the fully suited and booted Uncle Sam. Let us not forget the tufts of white hair sticking out from beneath the red, white, and blue tophat that sets it all off.
Uncle Sam: Week in and week out I’ve heard you two runnin’ yer mealy little mouths about this country, and week in and week out King Kong Frank has been there to SHUT YOU UP!
That gets a rise out of the crowd.
Uncle Sam: But tonight, there ain’t gonna be no King Kong Frank…
Howley: Here it comes, Moss! The EXCUSE!
Moss: Will you stop?
Uncle Sam: Tonight…
The lights in the Taft Coliseum go dead.
Uncle Sam: Challengin’ for the Premier AMERICAN Championship…
Everything goes red, white, and blue.
“Livin’ in America” erupts into the room. It’s the Godfather of Soul at his forehead-sweating best. Strobing lights and billowing smoke cascade up the entrance where they’re met with the silhouette of a hulking monster of an overall-clad man.
Uncle Sam: CAP’N! FRANK! ‘MERICA!
Magnesium explodes all around him. He stands there in the pyrotechnic blast and lets loose a blood-curdling battle cry that CLASSIC fans know and love.
CFA: HOOOO-AHH! HUSS! HUSS!
Frank takes off toward the ring like a shot, his eyes filled with patriotism and murder, and locked onto Shujin Yama like the continued prosperity of Western Civilisation depends on the outcome of this very championship wrestling match!
Howley: Did he say Cap’n Frank ‘Merica?
Moss: He did, Thunderbird. He did indeed.
Frank’s face is covered in so much red, white, and blue greasepaint that it’s already crusted into his wiry beard. He is the tri-colored and terrifying boogie-man of your worst nightmare, and Sensei Abraham Lincoln is out of the ring faster than a man of his age has any right to move.
Frank approaches, grabs the top rope, and pulls himself up onto the apron with one mighty step. With another he is over the top rope and inside the ring. Grabbing the American Flag posted in the near turnbuckle, Frank starts marching around the ring like a madman, hooting and hollering and waving the flag. The champion is unphased, holding his ground at the center of the ring.
Frank leads the crowd in a chant that he knows will get under Yama’s skin.
The bell is rung and the crowd boils with anticipation as the two behemoths stomp towards each other with confidence. Frank and Yama get up close and personal as they go chest to chest, jaw jacking the man in front of them. The crowd is in a virtual frenzy, wanting to see someone get smashed and finally erupt when Yama lashes out with a mighty shove!
Moss: Yama’s no stranger to throwing his weight around, being a former sumo!
Howley: Did you just call the champ fat, Moss?
Frank comes right back at him, heaving himself at the former rikishi as he plants a heavy forearm into his shoulder and neck! Yama returns fire with one of his own and then grabs a lockup. The two man sized bulls wrestle for control, pushing and pulling each other around the ring like some grotesque human abomination that the referee has to avoid being steamrolled.
Moss: Do I really have to explain to you how commentary works? They do wrestle-things, we describe them. Not everything is a joke, Thunderbird.
Howley: Yeesh! Fine! But if you don’t get the bees outta yer bonnet there, Moss, I’m gonna have to take you out back after the show an’ tune ya up real good! You understand me, kid?
Moss: My lawyer will eat your children.
Yama breaks and slaps his frying pan sized hand across Frank’s jaw, the sound making a loud cracking sound that echoes throughout the building. Not to be outdone, Frank returns fire with one of his boulder sized fists across the side of Yama’s head! The two behemoths stare at each other for a very tense moment before both open fire wildly with the hardest shots they can throw!
Moss: Now, can we get back to the job?
Howley: LOOK AT ‘EM THROWIN’ BOMBS, MOSS!
After a few volleys, Frank’s big ol’ ham hocks start to wobble Yama, much to the fans’ enjoyment who chant “USA! USA! USA!” louder and louder with every blow Frank lands on the former rikishi’s skull. Meanwhile, out on the floor, Sensei Abe Lincoln is beside himself as he watches his man get blasted over and over! Frank hammers away, driving Yama back towards the ropes.
Moss: I don’t think we’ve ever seen anybody push Yama back!
Howley: Whether you call him King Kong or Cap’n Frank or anything else, one thing I can guarantee you is that man is out of his ever-lovin’ gourd! The thought that he shouldn’t mix it up physically with Yama has never and will never enter Frank’s mind!
Moss: Fair enough.
Frank clocks Yama a couple more times before shooting him across the ring and bouncing himself off the ropes for some added momentum. Yama ducks a wild clothesline attempt, causing them to pass each other by. On the next rebound, the two monsters collide in the center of the ring with a massive thump! The fans ooh and aah as the two giants roar at each other.
Moss: What an impact!
Howley: You ain’t kidding, a lesser man would be on a stretcher if they were on the receiving end from either of these two big bulls!
Frank dares Yama to hit him again, demanding he make it a “good ‘un” and Yama does. Cracking him with a sumo style slap before hitting the ropes and crashing all of his mass into Cap’n Frank! The blow makes KKF take a step back, but only a step before he lurches forward and smacks Yama with a big ol’ fist to the head and then hits the ropes so as to launch himself at Yama with a big shoulder of his own.
Moss: It’s like two cars in a head-on collision!
Howley: Something tells me if either of these two ran into a car, the car would lose!
Yama gets knocked back a couple steps and goes with it, hitting the ropes again and on the rebound, hurls himself at Frank. Only this time, Frank puts the boot up and ROCKS Yama, whose face gets kicked by KKF’s caveman looking foot, right to his fat mush! The fans erupt with cheers as Yama reels back from the blow and Frank follows up with a couple more big brick-like hands to the head.
Howley: Ugh, gross! Can you imagine where or what those feet have stepped in?
Moss: Yama is certainly uniquely qualified to answer that question now, but he’s got bigger things to worry about!
Frank charges back across the ring, but right as he hits the ropes, Sensei Abraham Lincoln quickly and desperately hooks Frank by the foot! This causes KKF to stop and turn to holler at Yama’s manager as the fans boo the interference. Meanwhile, Yama, seeing his chance, gets his blubbery mass moving and blindsides Cap’n Frank from behind with a body blow!
Moss: Come on! Sensei Abraham Lincoln, once again, sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong!
Howley: It worked though, Moss! Now Yama has a chance to do some damage here!
Yama quickly takes advantage and is all over Frank with pounding blows to the back of his broad shoulders with his own meaty forearms being used as clubs. Out on the floor, Sensei Abe is ecstatic with how the tables have turned as he smugly ignores the derisive comments from the fans at ringside. Yama continues to hammer away, driving Frank towards the ropes before dumping him out to the floor.
Moss: Alright, Frank needs to regroup here.
Howley: I don’t think so, Moss! Yama’s hot on the case, like Frank’s a fresh pot of chanko!
Moss: What do you know about Chanko?
Howley: I googled “what do sumo wrestlers eat.” I can give you a top ten recipes, where’s my phone…
Moss: Later, because here comes Yama!
Following him outside, Yama keeps clobbering Frank with kicks and stomps before yanking on his hair and then bouncing his skull off the side of the ring! Once, twice, but not thrice, because Frank puts his hands out to block and then sends an elbow into Yama’s ribs! Then a second and third blow to the massive sumo’s bulky midsection, each one drawing out a cheer from the fans.
Moss: Boy, Yama’s ribs are going to be sore in the morning!
Howley: Are we sure he can even feel that with all that… mass?
Frank grabs a fistful of hair and points at the post, which gets a cheer before he aims to slam Yama’s head off of it! BUT NO! Yama slips free and he shoves Frank face first into the unforgiving steel! KKF drops to the floor holding his head, which is now rattled for sure while an angry Yama proceeds to kick and stomp away at his ribs and back, each blow hitting with a thump.
Moss: Just when you think big Frank was turning the tide!
Howley: I’m sure it’s fine, Moss, I think we can all agree that that post ranks about 107th on the list of the hardest things King Kong Frank has had his skull bounced off of.
Sensei Abe shouts to his man, pointing at the flag in Frank’s corner and directs him to go get it. Yama nods before adding one more kick-stomp and leaves Frank on the floor and then climbs into the ring. However, Yama is huge and bulky, thus slower than molasses as he plods his way into the corner to capture the American flag. All the while, the fans boo and yell and beg for Frank to get up and stop this!
Moss: You might think these two haven’t taken a lot of damage, but when you’re dealing with men the size and strength of Shujin Yama and King Kong Frank, their ability to dish it out is magnified compared to most wrestlers.
Howley: Yeah, plus, it’s fun watching these two goliaths blast away at each other.
Yama takes hold of the ropes and looks up, realizing he’s going to have to climb to capture the ‘enemy’ flag and he does, carefully, slowly. The fans in near that corner boo every labored step, while over by the opposite corner the fans holler for Frank to keep fighting as he drags himself off the floor and looks into the ring; and that’s just what he does.
Moss: With how slow he’s moving, I’m guessing right about now that Yama is regretting having agreed to this kind of match.
Howley: No kidding. A man the size of Shujin Yama isn’t meant to be climbing up the ropes like some sort of luchador.
Pulling himself into the ring, Frank grunts in pain as he rubs the lump on his head where he smashed into the ring post. Across the ring, Yama, now on the middle rope, is being yelled at by Sensei Abe to “HURRY!”. He does not hurry, he looks back and sees Frank, who is hotter than a two dollar pistol as he stomps his way over to put a stop to what he’s up to.
Moss: Here comes big ol’ Frank!
Howley: And look, Yama has got himself caught in quite a pickle here!
Much like a deer caught in the headlights of oncoming traffic, Yama finds himself unsure of what he should do. Out on the floor, Sensei Abe is frantic as he rushes around the ring, yelling in panicked gibberish as Frank reaches Yama and grabs on to the back of his waistline. Yama tries to swat at him, but Frank ignores that and slams his caveman club-like arms across his spine!
Moss: Good grief, what an impact!
Howley: It’s like Frank just hit him with a baseball bat!
Yama manages to kick him off and turn himself around on the turnbuckles, but Frank is right back and clobbers him with a double sledge. Then grabs on to his hair and proceeds to bust his knuckles all over Yama’s forehead! Each blow being cheered louder than the last by the fans. After several hard shots, Frank lets go and roars to the crowd as he motions with arms that he’s going to toss him!
Howley: Are we sure the ring can take this, Moss?
Moss: Well, we’re about to find out!
Pulling at Yama, Frank positions himself as he readies to launch the more than four hundred and sixty pounds of bulk off the ropes. Right at the moment he’s about to do just that, Sensei Abe once again hooks his foot and yanks as hard as he can. It puts KKF off balance just enough that he wobbles at the worst possible time and falls with all of Yama’s considerable bulk on top of him with a horrible crash!
Howley: Oh man, Frank’s ribs have to be broken, Moss!
Moss: They might just be after having all of Yama’s nearly five hundred pounds land on them like that! And look at that snake, Sensei Abraham Lincoln!
Howley: He’s definitely got impeccable timing. Sucks for big ol’ Frank, but it’s looking pretty good for Yama!
The fans erupt with jeers as Sensei Abe cackles at the effectiveness of his handiwork. Some of the fans nearby even throw garbage at him! Meanwhile, Yama rolls off of Frank, who can’t help but to clutch at his now crushed ribs. Looking up Yama takes sight of the Hinomaru (aka the Japanese flag) and with it, can see victory in sight as he sluggishly pulls himself up and goes to the corner.
Moss: And Yama is looking to bring an end to this. A shame that he’s going to win like this thanks to that, that…
Howley: You may not like it, Moss, but Sensei Abe has certainly done a great job for his man.
Moss: Wait, what is he doing?
Howley: Looks like he’s not done seeing Yama punish Frank.
Gripping the top rope, Yama begins to climb yet again; but this time, Sensei Abe calls out to him and points at Frank before telling him “CRUSH HIM!! CRUSH THAT AMERICAN DOG!!” Yama nods and steps back before pulling Frank into position and then climbs up. Looking down, he finds his target and then, once again, brings all of his weight down on Frank’s chest!
Howley: He got all of that Banzai Drop, Moss!
Moss: And what was the point? He could just win the match!
Yama stands back up and raises his arms in victory as he takes in the fans chorus of hate. Out on the floor, Sensei Abe revels in the boos and threats the fans hurl at him and his man. After a moment, Yama begins to climb once again, this time looking to end it; but again, Sensei Abe calls for “one more”. Yama obliges and sets himself once again before dropping…
Howley: This is it, King Kong is about to get squashed like a grape by Godzilla!
Moss: Oh, come on! This is completely unnecessary!
…and then suddenly…
…FRANK ROLLS OUT OF THE WAY!…
…YAMA CRASH LANDS ON THE MAT…
…AND THE CROWD GOES BANANA!
Howley: Good, gawd! Yama just left a Yama-sized crater in the corner!
Moss: And look at Sensei Abe, he’s beside himself!
Down on the mat, Yama is nearly paralyzed in pain as his spine took the brunt of that disastrous impact all on his gargantuan hind-end; yet, despite this, still tries to get back up like some unkillable movie monster. However, Frank is already up and charges at Yama, colliding with him and driving him towards the ropes and out of the ring!
Moss: This is it, this is Frank’s big chance!
Howley: Yeah, but can he climb? He’s taken a heckuva beating!
Frank turns towards the corner where ‘Old Glory’ awaits him and points, which elicits a big cheer. Stomping his way across the ring, Frank is met by Sensei Abe, who has rushed back around the ring and got up onto the apron; where Abe proceeds to berate Frank!
Howley: Is he crazy?!
Moss: Foolish is more like it!
Indeed. Frank quickly tired of Abe sassing him before grabbing him by the collar and cocking a fist. Frank looks around the arena, as if asking for approval. Which is, of course, given a resounding cheer of approval.
Moss: Look at him beg after all he’s done! I’m not saying Frank should do it, but…
Howley: I don’t think these fans share your compassion for the helpless, Moss!
And neither does Frank, who just completely mollywhops Sensei Abraham Lincoln with one big, right hand that drops him like a sack of bricks to a thunderous ovation! Abe flops onto the apron and then plops like a stain on the floor.
Howley: I think Sensei Abe is going to be feeling that one for a long time!
Moss: He sure is and it couldn’t have happened to a better guy!
Frank grips the top rope and plants a foot on the second and then lurches up to a standing position. He tries to reach for the flag from there, but realizes he needs to go all the way up. Using the flagpole to steady himself, he gingerly climbs. Out on the floor, Yama has gotten himself up just in time to see Frank take not just the Stars and Bars in his hand, or the victory, but his Premier Americas title too!
Moss: He did it! Frank had to survive a two on one advantage, but he did it!
Howley: And these fans are going nuts, Moss!
Robbins: Here is your winner… and NEEEWWWWW PREMIER AMERICAS CHAMPION!
The crowd erupts into a chorus of “USA!” chants as “Stranglehold” by Ted Nugent burns up the airwaves.
Robbins: KIINNNNGGG KOONNNNNGGG FRRRAAAANNNK!
Frank erupts just as much. Marching around the ring, holding up his brand new championship. He reaches a turnbuckle and raises it high into the air and the fans get even louder. He marches in circles hitting his signature phrase.
On the outside of the ring Yama slaps the mat in frustration. He’s eager to get back in there when Frank has his back turned, but thinks better of it. Reluctantly he starts walking back down the aisleway looking back at KKF in disgust.
Moss: We’ve got a new Premier American Champion and I don’t know what to think!
Howley: He’s as American as apple pie Moss!
Moss: Apple pie moonshine maybe! Nonetheless we’ve got a brand new champion and he’s earned every bit of it! A Classic Wrestling original, Frank has been fighting for what’s right since he got here and today he stands tall!
REAL WORLDS CHAMPIONSHIP: Lord Colossus vs Vito Valentino (C)
We move to ringside where Harrold Robbins stands poised in the center of the ring, microphone in hand. The lights flicker and then darken. Near the aisleway we seem to see fog or smoke obscuring our view. Lightning like flashes make the fog seem even more ominous.
Moss: Uh oh I think we know who this is!
“Ace of Spades” by Motorhead hits and out comes the challenger. Standing high above everyone else in the crowd. He stares straight ahead and makes his way towards the ring without distraction. The fans boo loudly but he’s able to tune them out.
Robbins: This next match is scheduled for one fall and is for the Classic Wrestling REAL WORLDS CHAMPIONSHIP!
The fans get loud for that announcement, and then right back to the booing.
Robbins: Making his way to the ring is the challenger, he weighs in at 350 pounds… From Parts Unknown! …Being accompanied to the ring by Walt Whezl… this is LORD COLOSSUS!
He steps over the top rope and his 7’ frame looks menacing as ever. Moving to his corner he awaits the champion.
“Life in the Fastlane!” by The Eagles hits and the arena goes banana. Vito bursts through the curtain with a huge smile on his face, and the REAL Worlds Championship around his waist. His signature sunglasses reflect the light of all the cameras in the arena going off. As he makes his way down the aisle, he stops and high fives many of the fans.
Moss: “Metro” is in the house!
Robbins: And his opponent… weighing in at 260 pounds… hailing from Brooklyn, New York! HE IS THE DEFENDING, REAL WORLDS CHAMPION…. “METRO” VITO VALENTINO!
Metro slides into the ring, mindful to stay away from his giant opponent. He rushes to the nearest turnbuckle and poses for the fans. As his theme song dies out he’s quick to get checked for any illegal weapons with the official. Walt makes his way to the arena floor and makes sure to immediately remind some fans of what’s about to happen.
Metro hands the REAL Worlds Championship off to the ring attendant and stretches against the ropes. Lord Colossus stands still, eying up Valentino. The pair circle around the ring, and Vito stops…
Moss: What’s he…
Metro: LETS GO!
He looks back to the fans and gets them excited. They start clapping loudly and cheering for their guy!
Finally the pair lock up in the middle of the ring. Lord Colossus backs Vito into the corner using his brute strength. Official Kevin Clady starts to step inbetween the two to break it up but Lord Colossus takes the opportunity to start throwing huge right meat hooks into the gut of Vito Valentino.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Vito doubles over as Lord Colossus looks out at the crowd. Where are their cheers now?
He grabs Vito by the wrist and irish whips him across the ring into the opposite turnbuckle. Vito hits with his back and the entire structure shakes. Valentino looks up just in time to see Lord Colossus barreling towards him. At the last second the Champion dives out of the way and Colossus slams into the turnbuckle himself.
Moss: Colossus is doubled over! Vito now with the kicks to the gut and chest! Off the ropes now! Flying clothesline to Colossus in the corner!
Colossus stumbles out of the corner along the ropes.
Moss: Here comes Vito again!
Vito dives once more and hits Lord Colossus again, this time sending him up and over the top rope to the outside. Colossus lands on his feet but is obviously dazed. Inside the ring Valentino has the fans at a near fever pitch due to his early assault.
Moss: No one believes more in Vito than these people here in Columbus Ohio!
Valentino follows his opponent to the floor and attempts to continue the fight. Colossus is ready and hits Vito again in the midsection. Vito’s knocked off balance by this and it’s enough opening for LC to pick him up before dropping him back down, neck first across the guard rail.
Valentino bounces back hard and falls to ground holding his throat. As the official checks on our Champion, Walt Whezl yells at the fans to shut up and stop booing. LC brushes past the referee and picks up Valentino by the head. He then drops a giant right hand across the face and follows it up with a kick to the gut. Vito is trying to find a way out but he’s grabbed and rolled back into the ring.
Howley: The last place Valentino wants to be, is outside the ring with that monster. At least inside it’s a controlled environment.
LC steps over the top rope and purposely onto the chest of the Champion. After walking all 350 pounds across the chest of Vito, he pulls him to his feet. Colossus sends his opponent off the rpes and puts his head down for a back body drop. Vito is able to stop, grab the head of Colossus and then send him down with a facebuster that once again delights the crowd.
Moss: He’s still in this thing!
Vito gets right back up, shaking his fists in excitement. He climbs to the second turnbuckle and jumps off towards Colossus. LC is able to get the foot high into the air at the last second and Valentino eats dirt.
The fans let out a collective “OOOOOOOOH”
Moss: WHO WILL COME OUT OF THIS MATCH AS THE REAL WORLDS CHAMPION!?
Howley: Back and forth! What a matchup!
Lord Colossus gets up and stomps down on Vito. Valentino tries to fight through it and takes a couple wild swings as he gets up. Colossus times it right and grabs him when he’s trying to regain his balance.
Howley: Uh oh Moss… He’s got him in a bearhug now! At seven feet tall, with a one hundred pound weight difference, this could be lights out for Metro…
Colossus is able to ragdoll the champion a few times and really cinch in the hold. With nowhere to go, Vito looks to the ropes but they are way too far. His next step is to try to get away but Colossus has his feet off the mat.
Moss: What can you do in this situation.
Howley: Not Much!
Suddenly Colossus lifts him up higher than falls forward with him.
Howley: Bear Hug Slam!
Colossus makes the cover and hooks a leg.
Moss: Vito gets the left shoulder up just in time!
Colossus grabs that very shoulder and locks in a nerve hold, Vito moves to a seated position and clearly in pain starts pumping his fists. The fans get louder and louder as Vito finally moves to his right and moves to a knee instead. Finally he makes his way to his feet and the fans are at a fever pitch. Vito plans an elbow in the ribs of Colossus who breaks the hold. Colossus swings but Vito ducks and lands a series of hands into Colossus’ gut and head. Colossus swings again, another miss. Vito rifles off a few more shots!
Moss: VITO OFF THE ROPES!
Howley: DOUBLE CLOTHESLINE! BOTH MEN ARE DOWN!
Kevin Clady checks on both men. Vito quickly crawls over to where his opponent is and goes for a cover of his own.
Vito gets up as Colossus uses the ropes. Valentino runs and smashes the ruler of the void with a body splash. He goes for a second one but this time Colossus pushes Valentino off. Colossus kicks Valentino in the gut and places him between his legs. With one pump he lifts Valentino up for his patented powerbomb.
Howley: VOLT THROW…
Valentino slides down the back of Colossus instead and then in no time flat he drops Colossus instead.
Moss: BROOKLYN BACKBREAKER!
Howley: COLOSSUS IS DOWN! Where’s Vito going!?
Moss: No mans land apparently! Vito is scaling the top rope!
Valentino stands straight up and measures his opponent… He leaps off…
Howley: ALL OR NOTHING!
And lands flat across the chest of Lord Colossus. The referee slides into position and counts the fall.
The crowd erupts as the bell rings and “Life In The Fastlane” by The Eagles blares over the stadium speakers. Vito can’t believe he’s done it. Walt Whezl on the outside is in the same boat. His eyes wide and jaw dropped. He starts admonishing the referee who ignores his calls.
Moss: He’s done it! He’s defending the title again! Vito Valentino moves into rarified air when it comes to the REAL Worlds Heavyweight Champion! Partner, if you can pick your jaw up off the floor, what are your thoughts…
Robbins: Ladies and Gentlemen….your winner AND STILLLL REAL WORLDS CHAMPION… “METRO” VITO VALENTINO!
The fans go nuts as Vito dances around the ring barely able to stand. The official hands him the REAL Worlds Title and Valentino clutches it to his chest desperately.
Howley: I cannot believe it! I’ll admit it, I thought this was the night of Lord Colossus. He’s done it though Moss, Vito Valentino has proven, that he’s not only not a one hit wonder, but the man is a fighting champion. With two defences under his belt, he’s showing he’s here for the long haul!
The camera zooms in on Valentino holding the title to his chest. Sweat and tears streaming down his face.
Moss: VITO VALENTINO IS STILL OUR CHAMPION! Folks we’re out of time, but don’t forget to check us out each and every week on RBTV! Where Vito Valentino will have a lot to say here just next week! Thank you for joining us! For Joel “Thunderbird” Howley, I’m Patrick Moss, this has been Classic Wrestling’s CAPITAL CLASH!