Introduction!
“Flying High Again” by Ozzy Osbourne hits on the Studio speakers.
The CLASSIC Wrestling splash logo explodes onto your television screen as the music screeches onward at a dizzying pace. Still shots taken from the last two episodes of Classic Wrestling TV rotate across the screen in a dazzling display of audio-visual excellence! A quick flash brings the camera inside of the Classic Wrestling Studio to a crane-shot showing the pristine ring, the iconic television set, and the jam-packed bleachers full of fans placed just on the other side of the ring. The fans do their part to get the show off to a rock solid start by doing what they do best…
Losing their entire minds!
RAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!
A quick cut down to the Classic commentary desk brings us to Patrick Moss, dressed in a slightly ill-fitting electric blue three-piece with a CLASSIC logo stitched to the front as well as Joel “Thunderbird” Howley, dressed as usual in a tie-dyed muscle shirt with his trademarked Thunderbird logo emblazoned across the chest. Don’t mind the feather boa, Thunderbird is an entire mood in and of himself and he knows it.
Moss: WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELCOME CLASSIC WRESTLING FANS!
Howley: They’re all riled up in here tonight, Moss, and you ain’t helpin’ any by doin’ all that yelling!
Moss: I can’t help it, T-Bird, I’ve got a FEVER for some Classic Wrestling and I’m CONTAGIOUS!
Howley: That’s gross! Somebody bring me a mask! I refuse to work in these conditions!
Moss: We’ve got a slam-packed show for you tonight folks! First up we’ve got a pair of debuts as the God Beast MUSHIGIHARA steps into the Classic ring to face one-half of Twisted Steel, the rough and ready SMASHMOUTH!
Howley: That’s right! And I can tell you this much, Moss, those two big boys are gonna slap some beef tonight! I can’t tell ya who’s gonna win, but I CAN tell ya that it won’t be for the faint of heart!
Moss: Next up we’ve got another debut as DR. DEVASTATION takes on the Olympic Bronze Medalist, JACK FARGO! What do you think of Fargo, Thunderbird?
Howley: I gotta be honest with ya here Moss, Fargo’s a nerd! But he can tie a guy in knots out there in the ring! I got a feeling the Doc’s got a prescription for that Olympic style of Fargo’s though, if you’re pickin’ up what I’m putin’ down over here!
Moss: After that we’ve got our first match of the second round of our Real Worlds Heavyweight Title tournament! It’ll be JOHNNY SAINT NELSON taking on the former sumo SHUJIN YAMA!
Howley: This one’s gonna be a match for the ages, Mossy-boy! Shujin took out Rich K. Hunt out in the first round and if I’m honest I had Hunt going all the way to the end in my brackets!
Moss: That’s true, but JSN took out the uber-formidable Harry Chest in the first round, and Harry was easily one of the odds on favorite!
Howley: If you say so, Moss, sounds a little sus to me though!
Moss: And speaking of HARRY CHEST, he and FREDDY CHEDDA will both be looking to right the ship so to speak when they meet in the ring later tonight! After that we’ve got another beef-slapper as DOUBLE DECKER and KING KONG FRANK collide in the Classic ring tonight in our semi-main event!
Howley: I’ll tell you what, Moss, I’ve run into Frank once or twice out there in the wide world or rasslin’ and one thing that I know for an ABSOLUTE fact is that he is one-hundred percent completely out of his rabbit-ass mind! That big galoof wants to fight anybody, even his friends!
Moss: It’s gonna be a case of the unstoppable force versus the immovable object tonight though, and that’s not all! Our main event tonight will see another second round match as VITO VALENTINO takes on All Business ALEX BRUDER!
Howley: It’s gonna be one for the ages! That is IF and only if Big Vito can keep his hands off of Bruder’s tights and keep it a fair fight!
Moss: Seriously? That’s your take away?
Howley: Did he, or did he not, have a handful of Frank’s overalls in the first round?
Moss: Did you forget about Bruder having a handful of Jack Fargo’s tights?
Howley: I’ve said it once, I’ll say it a thousand times, if the REF DON’T SEE IT, it AIN’T ILLEGAL!
Moss: You’re incorrigible, Thunderbird! You know that?
Howley: I know everything, Moss!
Moss: Like I said before, we’ve got a SIZZLER of a show on deck for you tonight fans, now let’s toss it on over to Otto Price at the podium!
The fans cheer and Otto mugs for the camera just a bit.
Price: Thanks guys! You’re absolutely right, tonight is gonna be a night to remember! But before we take it to the ring for our first match let me bring up to the podium the manager of perhaps the most dangerous man in Classic Wrestling, Walt Whezl!
Walter Whezl steps out onto the stage, face painted ghoulishly in black and white, his hair greased back. He carries a cane with a silver skull on it, it’s mouth curiously open. He is dressed in all black, tie, suit jacket, shirt and pants.
The Classic Wrestling crowd is having none of Whezl and begins to boo and yell derisive slogans at him.
Whezl: The Lord Colossus is not here, he is preparing the doomsday that SURELY awaits King. Kong. Frank.
Whezl sneered each word of Frank’s name.
Whezl: So I am here to deliver his missive. Everyone.
EVERYONE!
…in Classic Wrestling saw the injurious attempts of this odious ozarkian oaf to try and injure the Lord Colossus. But…
Whezl waggles his cane at the crowd.
Whezl: …everyone was witness. WITNESS I say, to the agility. The skill. THE POWER OF THE APOCALYPSE COMMANDED BY THE LORD COLOSSUS!
That turgid texan saw FIRST HAND the results of attempting to put hands on me. ON ME! NO ONE WILL DARE TOUCH ME! NOT WITH WHAT I COMMAND!
KING KONG FRANK DARES TO TOUCH THE LORD COLOSSUS?! HE DARES TO INTRODUCE A FOREIGN OBJECT!
Whezl’s voice reached Halfordian levels of falsetto, his rage twisting his painted face. His breathing heavy, he adjusts his tie and tries to regain his composure.
Whezl: I have spoken with officials of Classic Wrestling of course…
He produces what appears to be a folded stack of papers from a pocket. Before the diminutive manager has an opportunity to wax poetic on just exactly what those papers are he’s met with a very large, very incensed Smoky Mountain Savage.
Frank: WHERE’N TARNATION IS YOU HIDIN’ THAT YELLA-BELLIED DOG?!
Walt scoffs, waving Frank off with his cane. Frank lunges at Whezl but he shrinks away, hiding first behind the podium and then Otto Price himself.
Whezl: You.. you KEEP THAT.. THAT MALEFACTOR AWAY FROM MY PERSON! MY LAWYER WILL HEAR OF THIS! DON’T THINK THIS IS OVER! DON’T THINK THIS HAS EVEN BEGUN! YOU WILL ATONE!
A swarm of referees come rushing to the stage, getting between Frank and Walter who is menacing his cane at the substantially larger man. Frank hollerin’ about what he’s gonna do to the little man, and Whezl delivering a variety of alliterative threats.
Cut to commercial.
Mushigahara vs Smashmouth
Coming back from the break The “God Beast” Mushigahara is already in the ring, his partner Leon Van Zandt on the outside.
The arena is filled with a dull roar that crests and crashes before building to a crest again, matching the anticipation of the fans who are ready for the start of the match. As the ring announcer clasps the mic there is a tension that builds in the fans, the roar of their voices starts to churn and rise as he lifts it and begins to speak.
“Now entering the ring…” is all he gets out before the opening chords of Into The Fire by Dokken begins to play.
The crowd erupts into a frenzy, recognizing the power chords and clashing cymbals as the anthem of two of the most dangerous men in professional wrestling today. “..weighing in at a total combined weight of 538 pounds, they hail from Satans Kingdom…”
No sooner does the announcer identify their hometown in Vermont than Breakneck and Smashmouth explode into the arena, not through the gorilla position, but through the crowd. Security is all around them, trying desperately, ineffectively, to keep the fans back, but those few who manage to get through are greeted with a stiff arm and a palm to the face as nothing slows their march to the ring.
A bearded Business Man in a well tailored three-piece suit, sunglasses and a copy of the Wall Street Journal rolled up in one hand, trails the two behemoths “…this is Smashmouth and Breakneck: TWISTED STEEL”
Moss: We have two of our stellar teams from our tag team division represented here in this match.
Howley: Yes, but we need to see how well they can handle themselves when they are on their own.
Moss: That’s right as Smashmouth takes on Mushigahara.
As the bell rings both men stare each other down for what feels like an eternity. The crowd begin to jeer the competitors but they pay them no mind whatsoever. The two men begin to mouth off to each other, when Smashmouth turns his back towards Mushigahara. He takes offense to the blatant disrespect and shoves Smashmouth in the back knocking him into the ropes. Smashmouth holds onto the top rope and turns towards Mushigahara and shoves him back, but barely moves. Mushigahara returns the favor but this time with his back not turned Smashmouth doesn’t move from the shove. Mushigahara throws an elbow towards Smashmouth and he eats it but doesn’t give way, and he returns one back towards Mushigahara. The two men exchange blows several times, with neither giving way.
Moss: These two behemoths are just going toe to toe and neither man is willing to give.
Howley: This is going to come down to whoever tires out first, and who can take advantage of the situation.
Smashmouth runs the ropes and leaps towards Mushigahara with a clothesline only slightly rocking him. Mushigahara then runs the ropes and attempts one of his own. As was done to him, Smashmouth doesn’t move and screams in Mushigahara’s face, causing the former sumo to heartily laugh. Smashmouth quickly chops the chest as the crowd “Woo’s” as the snack echoes through the studio. Smashmouth lands another, and then another. Mushigahara eats all of them and the only discernible damage is a slightly red chest. With a quick palm strike Mushigahara gets Smashmouth to stumble backwards, and then another. And finally a third one gets Smashmouth pinned in the corner. Mushigahara lays a shoulder into the abdomen of Smashmouth. With a guttural groan Mushigahara rears back and slams in again. The ref finally attempts to get Mushigahara to back away after a third shoulder smash.
Moss: It’s about time, Smashmouth’s ribs could possibly be broken.
Howley: Well it sure as heck ain’t ballet. That’s a risk these men take for our entertainment.
As Mushigahara begrudgingly backs away Smashmouth rushes towards him and tries to pick the sumo up, but can’t as his ribs won’t allow him. Mushigahara goes for a bear hug but as he reaches for him, he grabs nothing but air. Before he realizes Smashmouth is behind him and kicks the back of his knee, and then a second time. The sumo is down to a knee. Smashmouth runs the ropes and lays a clothesline to the back of the neck of Mushigahara. He falls face first onto the mat. Smashmouth wastes no time stomping the lower back of Mushigahara.
Howley: Smashmouth looking to get a bit of revenge on Mushigahara for the shoulder smashes.
Moss: He is relentless on the attack.
Smashmouth gloats towards the crowd in an effort to pump himself up, thus allowing Mushigahara to slowly pull himself up using the bottom rope. His partner and manager whisper something to the sumo and he nods.
Moss: Looks like they are talking some strategy into their partner.
Howley: Well he’s gonna need it.
Smashmouth’s partner Breakneck points this out to the ref, but he waves him off. Mushigahara and Smashmouth get face to face once more. Both men are winded and breathing heavily. Eddie Dante climbs up onto the apron, causing Breakneck to do the same. As Smashmouth knees Mushigahara in the stomach and goes for a small package, but the ref doesn’t see it, as Dante leaps off the apron and points towards Breakneck, as the ref rushes over to him and tries to get him off the apron, as Leon Van Zandt slides in under the bottom rope, and pulls the small package over, causing Mushigahara to have the pin, and quickly slides out as Breakneck hops down. The ref turns and sees the pin.
1……
Moss: Not Like This
Smashmouth tries to kick his legs but the strength of Mushigahara is too much.
2……
Howley: It’s genius!
Still struggling to free himself Smashmouth can’t get the Sumo off of him.
3!!!!
The bell rings as Mushigahara let’s go and rolls out onto the floor where he is helped to his feet by Zandt and Dante. He holds his arms up high in the air as Twisted Steel are beside themselves in the ring.
Harold Robbins: The winner of this Match VIA Pinfall…. The Emperor Mushigahara!!!
Devastating Origins, Pt. 1
The scene fades in from black. A young man sits in the corner of a padded room. The straitjacket he’s forced to wear binds his arms to his body. His shoulder length green hair hangs over his face as he thrashes wildly trying to free himself from his restraints. He calls out for help through the sound of manic laughter, but no one comes. The lights in the room begin to flicker as the young man continues to thrash around, then suddenly…he stops. The lights stop flickering and the room is completely silent. The light at the top of the ceiling in the center of the room begins to get brighter and brighter as the buzzing sound of the light becomes louder and louder.
Brighter and brighter.
Louder and louder.
Brighter and brighter.
Louder and louder.
Until the only thing seen is white and the only thing heard is the buzz of the light.
!~CLINK~!
The light suddenly bursts and shatters into a million pieces. There is no sound and the room has gone completely black.
For a few moments, there is nothing but darkness and silence, but then a high pitched squealing laughter is heard in the room. Nothing but the laughter is heard, and the room remains pitch black.
A beam of light begins to move around the room erratically, showing bits and pieces of a gargantuan man standing in the middle of the room. Keys are heard fumbling through the hands of an orderly outside of the room as he tries to breach the room.
The door swings open as the orderly, a middle aged man dressed in all white, scrambles through. He rushes into the center of the room, the beam of his flashlight centered on the face of Dr. Devastation.
Orderly: Oh my G…ehk, eck….eck….
He tries to speak, his voice trembling…but his words suddenly turn into gurgles as Dr. Devastation grabs ahold of his through, and chokes him into unconsciousness forcing him to drop the flashlight to the padded floor. The high pitched laugher somehow echoes off the padded walls in the room, as Dr. Devastation picks up the flashlight and holds it up to his chin revealing his poorly makeuped face, his red lips smeared by finger smudges and the white paint poorly applied by his hands. His two ropes of green hair hang over his face as he laughs crazily into the camera.
Dr. Devastation: When there’s no more room in hell, the dead will walk the earth.
!~CLICK~!
The flashlight is clicked to the off position and darkness once again fills the room and the scene fades with the sound of Dr. Devastation’s squealing laughter.
Johnny Saint Nelson vs Shujin Yama (WTT Round 2)
As we cut to ringside, Johnny Saint Nelson is just ending his entrance, he’s preaching to the front row of fans as the next theme begins.
The Japanese National anthem begins playing as Sensei Abe Lincoln steps out onto the stage waving a Japanese flag. Shujin Yama follows behind, in a sparkly white robe bedazzled in red diamantes.
Moss: Well here we go! One of the odds on favorites in this whole tournament!
They march down to the ring, Yama paying no attention to the crowd while Sensei Lincoln laughs and taunts them. Arriving to the ring, 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 Yama’s robe. Once freed, he raises his left leg and drops into a dramatic sumo pose while shouting something incomprehensible to both English- and Japanese-speaking audiences.
Harrold Robbins: This next match up is scheduled for one fall and is a second round match in the REAL WORLD’S CHAMPIONSHIP TOURNAMENT!
The fans cheer for the big implications.
Robbins: In the corner to my right, He hails from Cleveland Ohio, weighing in at 243 Lbs… This is The Saint! JOHNNY SAINT NELSON!
He gets jeers from the crowd in response.
Robbins: and in this corner… hailing from The Greatest Nation on Earth! Weighing in at 469 lbs! He is accompanied to the ring by his manager Abe Lincoln….SHUJIN YAMA!
DING DING DING!
The bell rings and the two competitors both wait to see what the other will do. Shujin Yama smirks but stands in place. JSN walks across the ring and stands much closer before he begins to dress Shujin down verbally about his weight.
Nelson: Follow JSN and I’ll show you the way to a healthier life! I can help you Shujin!
Yama looks back down to his manager Abraham and thats the opening JSN needed.
Moss: Saint Nelson now on the attack, he pummels at the shoulders and back of one of the big men here in Classic Wrestling! He gains control through that cheapshot.
Howley: When your opponent has the size advantage by THAT MUCH… sometimes you gotta go about things in a different way Moss. Strategy over Ability.
JSN pulls Yama to the middle of the ring and slaps on a side headlock. Yama tries to throw him off and into the ropes but JSN holds on. Nelson smiles and points to his head to attest to his intelligence. Yama lifts him up as he screams before dropping him back and headfirst into the mat.
Howley: That’ll get anyone off of a headlock!
Moss: Big Sideslam by the big man!
Abe Lincoln on the outside is very excited to see Yama take over, and take over he does. Shujin tosses Johnny Saint Nelson around the ring at will and off of a couple turnbuckles as well. Nelson is holding his back and is now the one spouting off prayers of his own. Yama breathes deep and heads back towards him. As the official looks back to see if Abe Lincoln is not causing any stress, JSN takes the opportunity to uppercut the care package of Shujin.
Moss: LOWBLOW TO THE SUMO!
Howley: The referee didn’t see it!
Yama falls to the mat and JSN tried to lift one of the big mans legs but finds it’s very heavy. Instead he drops a leg of his own onto the ankle of Yama. He stands back up begins to stomp on the right foot of The Sumo.
Howley: Taking the big man off of his feet and limiting his mobility. Smart play, he’s going to continue to attack that ankle. One thing we all know, Shujin Yama can’t squash you if he can’t jump for the Bonzai!
JSN smartly pulls Yama towards the ropes. He sets the big mans ankle on the bottom rope, and then uses it to slingshot himself up into the air and comes down onto Yama’s ankle with his backside.
Moss: All his weight coming down on that ankle could snap it into two pieces!
JSN does the same move again before the official makes him move off of the ropes over threat of DQ. He pulls Yama up and hits him with a couple forearms before he runs off the ropes at dropkicks the same ankle of Shujin. Shujin falls to one knee and holds the bad ankle. JSN sees an opportunity and hits the ropes once more. As he comes back Yama lifts him up and slams him down in one motion. It seems to do damage to him as well.
Howley: SAMOAN DROP! He’s holding that ankle though Moss! It obviously hurt pretty good pushing off of it to lift JSN up and over!
Moss: Anything to win the REAL WORLD’S CHAMPIONSHIP! That’s what this match represents! The winner moves on! The winner goes home Thunderbird!
With verbal motivation from Abe Lincoln, Shujin Yama slams JSN two more times, making sure to put most of his weight on his good leg. He then motions to the crowd that it’s over. He lifts JSN up and grabs him belly to belly style and slams him sideways.
Moss: Tsukaminage!
Howley: Gesundheit!
Moss: That’s Shujin Yama’s set up move for the Bonzai!
Shujin begins to drag JSN towards the corner, limping a bit.
Moss: ..and it appears that’s what he’s going for!
Shujin climbs to the second rope. He bounces once but stops and winces. He reaches down for his ankle but JSN is on his knees now!
Howley: Watch out for the priest!
Moss: JSN reaching up now!
Saint Nelson pulls Yama off the second rope, slamming him onto his back! The official slides into position as JSN lifts both legs.
Moss: JSN HAS BOTH FEET ON THE TURNBUCKLE!
Abe Lincoln tries to get the referees attention but it’s too late.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE~!
DING DING DING!!!
The bell rings and the ring announcer does his thing, JSN slides out of the ring, away from the grasp of the Sumo wrestler.
Harrold Robbins: Ladies and Gentlemen, Your winner by pinfall, and moving onto the THIRD round of the REAL WORLD’S TITLE TOURNAMENT… JOHNNY SAINT NELSON!
Fired, Not Filed.
Moss: Bird, our fans are the best in the world and what a better way to show you their support than a new shirt!
Howley: I love these shirts. We use the best materials, American made, and they not only look good, they feel good too!
Moss: Indeed! Let’s send it down to Otto Price for more information.
Otto Price: Thank you gentleman! We are now fully stocked and ready to ship!!! Just head on over to our website!! I’m pleased to announce just tonight for Classic Fans we will be throwing in the NEWWWWW CW logoed shirt for half price when you buy a shirt of any of your favorite wrestlers! Also the fans in attendance tonight will get a FREEEEEEE CW logo shirt!!!
The crowd in the rafters cheer wildy behind Otto.
Otto Price: Check out this Double Decker shirt and he wants me to let you know all our shirts come in small to Double Decker XXXX. Jack Fargo, Freddile Kilgore, King Kong Frank! My favorite is the Rush Starling lion tattoo print!! All can be yours just head to…..
The crowd starts to jeer as from the back enters the 20 something know-it-all Burton Howell.
Burton Howell: An egregious error has occurred and….who dressed you ZZ TOP on a three day bender with King Kong Frank on grandpa’s moonshine? Who approved this outfit?
Otto Price: What’s wrong with my outfit? Who are you again?
Burton Howell: Who am I? Head of TALENT RELATIONS. I am BURTON HOWELL THE THIRDDDDDD!
The crowd starts a “turd” chant which visibly upsets the chubby kid who shoots a cold stare off camera which is traced to ring announcer Harold Robbins who just has a smirk on his face.
Burton Howell: It’s the THIRD!! 3. Es la tercera cucarachas!! Never mind. I don’t have time to argue with simpletons when I’m here to solve problems. Otto I will leave you notes on your wardrobe selection after the show, and you will need to come to me for approval. But enough about slob central let’s discuss this egregious oversight. No Burton Howell the
Crowd: “TURD”!!!!!
Burton’s face turns a scary shade of red as he holds back his anger.
Burton Howell: Third. Shirts. Where is my merch when I’m the…
Moss: Ohhhhhhh Bird, here comes the boss!
Howeley: Just in time because this ole ThunderBird was about to soar in and shut this kid up.
From the back enters the seldom unseen Mr. Jimmy Dale.
Otto Price: Boss what brings you out here?
Burton Howell: Probably here to announce my shirt or give me some kind of award!
Burton goes to shake Jimmy Dale’s hand who reluctantly accepts but brushes it off.
Jimmy Dale: Thank you to all the Classic Wrestling fans, and just a reminder this shirt deal will only last tonight!! I’m not somebody who likes being on camera. I leave that for our talented staff and amazing wrestlers. But Burton I need to talk with you, how about you follow me to the back.
Burton Howell: Well I’d prefer to do it here in front of these fans!! Is it a promotion?
Jimmy Dale: Really we should head to the back.
Burton Howell: I’m cool here JD.
The use of JD seems to strike a bit of a nerve with the boss man.
Jimmy Dale: Well then I guess you leave me no choice. It’s come to my attention you’ve somehow alienated the entire staff and roster in a matter of three weeks. I’ve gotten numerous personal complaints.
Burton Howell: It was that horrible ring announcer wasn’t it? I truly am better qualified for that job.
Jimmy Dale: Multiple complaints.
Burton Howell: Just because Harold Robbins can’t take a note isn’t my problem.
The self proclaimed head of talent relations looks over towards the ring again at ring announcer Harold Robbins and mouths the word “Bitch” or “Snitch” it’s not clear.
Jimmy Dale: Even the crowd doesn’t like you and you’re not even supposed to be on camera.
On cue another “turd” chant breaks out as Burton Howell stomps his feet in anger.
Burton Howell: I’d like to file a harassment complaint against these fans and their vulgar chants!! As head of talent relations it’s absurd.
Jimmy Dale: Well there is that too. You’ve also misrepresented yourself as head of talent relations. You have no such title.
Burton Howell: You gave it to me after we met week one.
Jimmy Dale: I’m sorry I did no such thing.
Burton Howell: YES YOU DIDDDDDDD!!!
Jimmy Dale: Burt. I did not, and I’m not here to argue.
Burton Howell: What are you going to fire me now? That’s original. Give up on a wrestling visionary!
Jimmy Dale: I probably should but out of respect to your father who is a friend of mine and the fact I believe in second chances I’m giving you a different job as an assistant producer that will handle mostly office paperwork and you will be banned from appearing on television.
The crowd cheers wildly as you can practically see steam coming out of Burton’s ears.
Jimmy Dale: We’ve reached our quota of managers here in Classic Wrestling and I have all their paperwork right here in this folder. For your first task I need you to drive these applications to the state athletic board. It’s about an hour drive, and I put some gas money and directions in the folder. So if you would please get these filed so our managers can get licensed I would be…thankful.
Burton Howell: FINE.
The kid rolls his eyes before ripping the folder out of the boss’s hand and starts walking away like a kid who was just scolded.
Otto Price: Get these shirts before our deal expires!! Thank you Mr. Dale!
Otto graciously shakes hands with the boss who waves to the crowd before exiting himself.
Moss: Well Bird I’m glad we got that straightened out. Jimmy Dale is always a fair fella.
Howley: I don’t know Moss. I still have a weird feeling about that kid.
Harry Chest vs Freddy Chedda
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 songs apex, Harry Chest walks out 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.
A tuft of iconic chest hair protrudes from the top of his combat suit collar. The word ‘CHEST’ runs across his pectorals in fuzzy felt lettering.
Harry Chest ascends into the ring where his demeanor changes to a serious one.
Moss: Harry out to the ring first and it looks like he is raring to go.
Howley: He better be this match is not going to be easy. And here comes his opponent.
“I’m Gonna Win” by Foreigner. As Chedda walks through the curtain and mugs for the camera and says “Flawless INSIDE the ring…” and runs his hands through hair, slicks his eyebrows back “…and OUT.” As he marches down towards the ring.
Moss: Let’s hope this week he has a better showing than he did last show.
Howley: Never happened.
Moss: Clearly it did.
Howley: I didn’t see it.
Moss: You called the match.
Howley: Nope. Didn’t happen.
Moss: You’re too much.
The bell rings, as Harry walks towards Chedda and extends a hand. Chedda reaches for it but at the last second pulls his hand away and runs it through his hair, and flicks the mixture of sweat and oil towards Harry. Harry smiles and smirks. Harry goes for a punch but Chedda quickly ducks under it and side steps Harry. Chedda brushes his shoulder off but doesn’t see the left hand coming. Harry lands a flush blow to the side of Chedda’s head rocking him backwards. Harry grabs an arm and goes to whip Chedda into the ropes. As Chedda rebounds Harry bends over for a back body drop but Chedda stops short and drops to his knees and uppercuts Harry.
Moss: Chedda showing some life this week. Much more than he did las show.
Howley: I still have no idea what you’re talking about.
Moss: Drop it.
Chedda grabs the leg of Harry and steps over and then leaps down on the knee. Pinning it, grapevined ,between his two legs. Chedda finds the camera and winks and shoots a finger gun towards it. Chedda grinds the knee into the mat all while not breaking eye contact with the camera. Harry screams in pain and in a desperate act grabs the hair of Chedda and pulls his head closer. Harry open palm slaps Chedda, then again before Chedda relents and gets off of Harry. Chedda climbs to the middle rope and beckons Harry to get to his feet.
Howley: For his first time in the ring here in Classic Wrestling….
Moss: Stop it! We all watched him lose last week.
Howley: That’s hearsay and I won’t have you badmouth the great name of Freddy Chedda.
Harry climbs to his feet as he turns around Chedda leaps from the middle rope. Chest notices as the last possible second and throws an arm into the stomach of the flying Chedda, sending him head over heels and flat on his back. Harry pumps himself up as he grabs Chedda by the hair and pulls him to his feet. Harry once again whips Chedda into the ropes, and this time stays standing. Harry grabs and lifts Chedda up and slams him down hard onto the mat. Harry leaps onto the Chedda and goes for the pin. The rest slides into place and checks the shoulders.
1….
Moss: Here we go again.
2…..
Chedda gets a should up before the ref even attempts the three count. Harry looks at the ref and nods in agreement.
Howley: Look even Harry Chest knows that he’s no match for Freddy Chedda on his first match….
Moss: Inalready told you to stop it.
Chedda gets to his feet and meets Harry in the middle of the ring. The two men exchange blows with Chedda getting the upper hand. Chedda grabs the arm and whips Harry into the ropes. Chedda leaps over Harry, and then drops down as Harry comes back around. Chedda leans over for his own attempt of a back body drop, but stealing a move from Chedda’s playbook Harry stops.
Moss: Uh-Oh
Howley: Watch out Freddy!
Harry taps Chedda on the shoulder and as Chedda stands up Harry smiles and in an instant nails Chedda with a huge JAWBREAKER! Chedda flops down onto the canvas flat, arms spread wide. Harry jumps down and hooks a leg for the cover.
1…..
2…..
Moss: Well he put up a bigger fight this week than he did last week.
3!!!!
The bell rings as Harry Chest stands to his feet with the ref raising his hand in victory.
Harold Robbins: The Winner of this Match VIA pinfall…. HARRY CHEST!!!
That’s Rich!
We move over to Otto Price who’s standing behind his podium, microphone in hand. Classic fans are ready.
Price: What an exciting week of action we’ve had so far. I want to thank each and everyone of you for tuning in here on RBTV! Don’t forget fans we’ve got all the merchandise you need, here at Classic Studios or online at Classic-Wrestling.com! The brand new TShir….
He’s cut off by the sounds of “Money” by Barrett Strong. The fans boo loudly as RIch K Hunt makes his way through the curtain. A look of disgust etched in his face. He stares at the fans who yell and shout at him, he blinks a few times and seems to brush them away with his hands before turning to Otto and heading over.
Price: Well I guess we’re being joined by Rich K Hunt! Rich how…
Hunt holds up a hand stopping Price before he pulls a rag from his vest and wipes the microphone off.
Rich K Hunt: Theodore Price… an appropriate name. Can I just say how awful this studio is? Disgusting all around.
Price: We’ve put a lot of money into this studio! You can’t disparr…
Hunt: What’s a lot of Money to someone like you Theodore? A couple thousand? You’re like every single one of these fans in attendance here in Cleveland. Not only are you okay with mediocrity but you’re going to be forever poor!
The fans boo loudly, a few standup and shout above the rest. They’re getting fairly angry.
Hunt: I mean SERIOUSLY! You’ve got the near toxic Lake Erie right around the corner. I can smell it from here. Wait…
He sniffs the air.
Hunt: Nevermind, that’s some of Cleveland’s finest over there.
The fans boos quickly turn to cheers as a new participant walks to the podium. It’s Carlos Ruiz! He saunters up and Otto moves the microphone his way.
Carlos Ruiz: Now you listen ‘ere Rich! Carlos is not from the great city of Cleveland, but there’s one thing I can appreciate about the people in this audience. They appreciate hard work Rich. They fight and claw for every cent they make and their proud of it. They feed their family off the sweat off their back, and Carlos is the same way! In fact, I am not going to sit back and listen to you disparage the good people of Cleveland Ohio! You’ve never worked for your cash a day in your life! Why don’t you put your money where your mouth is and face me, right in that ring in two weeks!
Otto Price looks excited.
Price: Carlos Ruiz laying the challenge down!
He turns the microphone to Rich K Hunt.
Hunt: Theodore, don’t you ever pull the microphone from me again… and as for YOU… CAR-LOS! I’d be happy to slap the stupid off your face. You got yourself a deal!
The crowd goes wild as Carlos pumps his arms. He’s ready to take him out right now, but Rich is eager to get to the back.
Dr. Devastation vs Jack Fargo
The house lights go dim as “The Becoming” by Nine in Chance plays over the sound system. Dr. Devastation comes out from behind the curtain and slowly walks to the ring. He peers around the completely silent crowd, creepily tilting his head from side to side while his two green ropes of hair hang down over his poorly made-up face. He climbs up on the apron and steps over the top rope. He walks across the ring and to the far corner before turning his back to it. He drops to his rear, hangs his head low and begins to rock back and forth in a manic manner.
The docile tones of folk legend John Prine’s “Pretty Good” soft rock the arena. A single spotlight focuses on the curtain where a slightly tanned average looking dark haired muscular fella in a baby blue college style wrestling singlet, with a bronze metal painted on each side, walks calmly from the back. It is Bronze Fargo former all American wrestler and Bronze metal winner. In his hand is a box of Wheaties with his picture on it.
Fargo does some stretching before getting ready for the contest. He waves to the crowd who are mostly getting popcorn then shakes hands with the ring announcer and ref. He talks briefly with the referee about the weather as the ref checks Fargo for weapons which the ref does not find. Bronze Fargo gives his ear a tug as a symbol of love to his wife Wendy, and newborn son Larry.
The Classic Wrestling ring is what we see and there are two individuals standing at each corner; one of which is of massive size. The two individuals are patiently waiting for the referee and ring announcer to synchronize. Cut to the commentary table.
Moss: Tonight we get to see the debut of that masked monster you see in the ring, Dr. Devastation, and Thunderbird – this guy looks like he’s going to be a burden to many here in Classic Wrestling.
Howley: He’s a freak. He’s not just a freak of nature, but he’s a freak. What’s with those dumb pigtails coming out of that mask? I don’t get this guy. Thunderbird doesn’t need to get this guy. If Jack Fargo is anything like Thunderbird Howley, which he’s not because there’s no one like the Thunderbird, then he’d instantaneously show this big ole’ jerk that the bigger they come…the harder they fall!
Thunderbird smugly kisses his bicep.
We cut back to the center of the ring where Harold Robbins begins to announce the match.
Harold Robbins: Ladies and gentlemen the following match is for one fall and has a thirty minute time limit. Standing in this corner (he points at Jack Fargo) and weighing in at 245 pounds, he is from Plainfield, Illinois! He is BRONZE…JACK…FARGO!
The crowd claps, with a few hoots and hollers mixed in, as Jack pushes himself from the corner, smiles, and waves to all the many Classic Wrestling fans in attendance. He’s dressed in his trademark bronze undies and silver boots strapped to his shins. He brushes back his hair and slaps his shoulders as his eyes glare across the ring at the dastardly behemoth before him.
Harold Robbins: His opponent, weighing in at 410 pounds, …he is from Parts Unknown. DOCTOR…DEVASTATION!
The masked monster barely moves. There’s little reaction from the crowd aside from some seemingly raucous jeering. His giant arms are draped at his sides. Harold Robbins backs away as the referee steps into the center of the ring. He waves both competitors toward him as Jack skips forward and Dr. D progresses at a leisurely pace. The referee reaches toward a humble and determined Fargo and pats him down. He nods his head and turns to Dr. D. The referee pauses for a moment so his eyes can scale the monster before him. He reaches as high as he can and pats the man down from top to bottom. He nods, and then signals for the bell.
Moss: This is going to be a true test of courage and determination for Bronze Jack Fargo.
Howley: Want to know why they call him Bronze, Mossy?
Moss: Why’s that?
Howley: Because he’s not golden like the Thunderbird.
Moss: Oh. I thought it had something to do with him winning a medal in the Olympics?
Howley: Hmph! Olympics-shmimpics. He’s got a lot to prove in this world, Mossy’man!
Fargo circles Dr. D. The big man hasn’t moved a muscle. Fargo lunges toward the big man and drives his right shoulder into Devastation’s side. The big man looks down at Fargo and slowly shakes his head. Jack hurries toward the ropes and bounces off. Fargo aims for a drop kick and sticks his heels as far as possible into D’s ribs but the big man barely moves as Fargo falls to the mat. Jack stares up at a mountain that’s now bending forward and reaching for Fargo’s hair. He rips Jack from the canvas as if Fargo was weightless! He tosses Fargo across the ring and against the turnbuckle. Fargo sells the move as he bounces off the turnbuckle and nurses his mid back. Jack winces in pain as Dr. D strolls toward him and scoops him up! He turns toward the center of the ring and slams Jack onto the canvas! Fargo rolls onto his side, shuts his eyes and grinds his teeth as he absorbs every ounce of that over seven foot fall to the mat!
Moss: Did you see that ring shake, Howley? Hot dog!
Howley: I certainly hope Jack Fargo knows some people in the insurance world…
Moss: Well, if you didn’t know…
Howley: I get it, Moss. I get it.
Dr. D circles around the fallen Fargo and strategically plots his next move as Jack rolls onto his back and gains composure. This gives Devastation enough time to fall forward and drop a VICIOUS elbow onto Fargo’s sternum! The fans are yelling for Fargo to get up and work as Dr. D grinds his humongous elbow into Fargo’s chest cavity. Fargo tries to push away and the referee goes for the pinfall.
One!
Two!
But Dr. D pulls Fargo up and wiggles his index finger toward the referee.
Howley: This guy could have just won the match based on his weight and pressure alone, but he’s pulling Fargo back up! What in the world!?
The big man and his opponent are back on their feet and Devastation tosses Fargo across the ring. Jack nails the ropes with a brutal force and hurries back toward the big man! A LARIAT! NO! Fargo slides between D’s legs, leaps to his feet, and jumps onto Devastation’s back! He’s got Dr. Devastation in a sleeper hold! The monster’s giant arms are having difficulty reaching his opponent and he’s flailing like a madman in the center of the ring. The crowd’s clapping and cheering as the referee shouts at Dr. Devastation to ask if he’s ok. The hold doesn’t last long as Dr. D realizes he can quickly bend forward and slingshot Fargo off him. Jack flies off Dr. D’s back and tucks his body across the canvas. Fargo is on one knee and seems to be at a high right now, but he’s met with a huge hand that wraps across his throat! Dr. D lifts Fargo off the floor and holds him in the air with a display of incredible strength!
Moss: How many times could you say you’ve done something like that, Thunderbird?
Howley: That’s a desperate move, Mossy. Thunderbird never found himself in a desperate situation. Well, not until he retired and had to become a commentator to make money.
Dr. D walks into the center of the ring with the choke still applied as he holds Fargo high. He pulls Fargo closer and stares at Fargo’s fear-filled face. Suddenly Jack rakes Dr. D’s face across the mask and the monster drops Jack to the mat! Bronze kicks Dr. D in the shins! Once! Twice! Three times! FOUR TIMES! FIVE TIMES! But the monster takes a step back with each kick and barely budges! Jack reaches up and socks Dr. D in the face! He delivers a sucker punch to the gut! A shot to the ribs! Another hook to the ribcage! Another gut punch! Jack Fargo is unleashing a combination in front of a raging crowd as Dr. D absorbs every hit like a sponge and doesn’t seem to be worried about any of it! Fargo takes a step back and readies himself for another combination but he’s side lined! Dr. D swings an imaginary baseball bat within both fists and wallops Fargo upside the head with one vicious home run! Jack twists, stands for a moment, and then collapses.
Moss: This has got to be it, Thunderbird!
Dr. Devastation takes a few steps forward and leaps into the air! Jack Fargo rolls out of the way! Devastation belly smacks against the canvas, completely missing the momentous splash! Fargo hurries to his feet as Dr. D rolls onto his back and briefly nurses his gut. Fargo wastes no time and comes at the doctor with a splash of his own! Directly onto the masked man’s face! Jack lays there! He grabs a chunk of Dr. D’s mask and bunches it up! It’s a pin, but Dr. D thinks Fargo is trying to de-mask him!
ONE!
Moss: Dr. D needs to push Jack away, but Fargo has a chunk of Devastation’s mask and the doctor is distracted by that!
TWO!
Howley: SCREW THE MASK, MAN! KICK OUT!
THREE!
Moss: HE DID IT! FARGO DID IT! THE OLYMPIAN PULLED IT OFF!
Jack uses all his might and pushes himself away, then rolls out of the ring. His eyes are wide. The crowd is cheering like crazy as Fargo looks around the room and realizes what he’s done and is beside himself. Dr. Devastation rolls onto one knee and adjusts his mask. It’s at that moment that the Doctor realizes what’s happened as Harold Robbins announces it…
Harold Robbins: The winner of the match by pinfall…BRONZE…JACK…FARGO!!!
Dr. Devastation gets up and charges for the referee, but the official escapes out of harm’s way. Fargo isn’t waiting to see what can happen and jolts toward the backstage area.
Vito and Big Joe!
We come back from the commercial break where none other than “Big” Joe Geoue is waiting with a microphone in hand.
“Big” Joe Geoue: Ladies and gentlemen? Metro… Vito… Valentino!
The tall, muscular, and very tan Master of the Metro Avenue Deathlock emerges into the camera’s view, all decked out in his ring gear for the main event of tonight’s episode of Classic Wrestling. Slapping Joe’s shoulder in a very friendly manner, Vito speaks into the mic as Joe holds it for him.
“Metro” Vito Valentino: Eyyy thanks for the intro, Joe! Whadda ya know, whadda ya say?
Joe smiles, delighted by Vito’s warm and engaging demeanor.
“Big” Joe Geoue: Vito, leading up to this week’s episode of Classic Wrestling, we all heard you say that you weren’t proud of how you got here. Of course, this is in reference to you rolling up the overalls of King Kong Frank. In fact, your opponent for tonight’s main event echoed those sentiments himself. With that in mind, are you really going to play this match fair and resist the temptation to steal another one away in order to advance to the Semi-Finals?
The tape is queued up and overlaying the backstage interview, showing the controversial roll-up that scored Vito the win over King Kong Frank in Round One.
Metro: Well, Joe. For starters, I actually disagree with you there when you say Mr. All ‘Business’ echoed those sentiments. ‘Cause… he didn’t. At all. In fact all that Alex ‘echoed’ was his own insecurities walkin’ into this match. The way he tried to spin this thing like I didn’t see anythin’ wrong with what I did and was a pot callin’ the kettle black? Come on, now. It’s… it’s almost as if he didn’t even listen to what I had to say at all! It’s almost as if he didn’t hear me ALREADY SAY I wasn’t proud of my own actions! It’s almost as if Mr. All ‘Business’… couldn’t even afford himself the opportunity to focus.
After showing the roll-up from Vito in a few different angles, it switches to Alex Bruder rolling up Jack Fargo with a handful of tights.
Metro: Like I said earlier in the week, Joe, at the risk of soundin’ like a hypocrite? What he did ain’t right. It ain’t no better than what I did, absolutely… but where he and I differ? I’m not lookin’ to become the REAL World’s Champion with an asterisk next to my name. No, SIR.
The overlaying video ceases and we are brought to Vito looking directly into the camera now, with Joe holding the stick as steadily as he can with his eyes capturing everything coming out of Vito’s mouth.
Metro: I’m confident I could’ve beaten Frank without a handful of his overalls, and next time I see him in that ring? You bet your butt I will. Can Alex say the same thing about Fargo? Nah. He CAN’T. Nor will he EVER. ‘Cause takin’ the cheap way out and snatchin’ opponents up by their britches or gougin’ an opponent’s eyes out so they couldn’t see him comin’? Seems to be the M.O. of Mr. ‘All Business’ here in The Classic, don’t it? Mm. Well, that’s NOT the M.O. of Metro, baby! What happened in Round One… will stay in Round One… and I am PROMISIN’ you all out there who watched us before, are watchin’ us now, and will tune in again next show to watch us some more, that I will never do that crap again. Period. End of story. Thank you sir may I order some dessert now!
Pausing, Metro looks at Joe upon switching his gaze from the camera.
Metro: And when I look temptation in the eyes tonight? I’mma smile back at her and beat Mr. ‘All Business’ clean in the middle of the ring. When that happens? You’ll know that I’m more than just a man of my word. I’m a man that is ready to represent Classic Wrestlin’ as the REAL World’s Champion.
Vito winks at Joe.
Metro: And you know somethin’? If Mr. ‘All Business’ is any sort of a man that’s ready to represent the most prestigious title in all of professional wrestlin’? Win or lose tonight? He will shake my hand when all is said and done. ‘Cause that’s what bein’ the REAL World’s Champion… is all about.
“Big” Joe Geoue: Thank you for your time, Vito! Guys? Back to you!
King Kong Frank vs Double Decker
Moss: Well, we’re back and now we’ve got fan favorite Double Decker inside the ring, ready for action!
Howley: I don’t know about this guy, Moss, he wouldn’t have lasted a full shift back in my day!
Moss: You always have something to say about somebody, don’t ya?
Howley: Come on, Moss, look at him! He’s a fat-body!
Inside the ring Double Decker paces his corner, a nervous grin has taken up residence across his generally cheerful face.
The eardrum-splitting opening riff to Stranglehold gets the fans in attendance up out of their seats. A moment passes before a loud, gravely voice can be heard for a hundred yards in every direction even over The Nooge’s seminal shred-fest.
“HOOOOOOOOOOO-AAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!”
King Kong Frank emerges with a 10-foot steel chain wrapped around his neck and a wild look in his eyes! He hoots and hollers and gets everyone whipped into a frenzy before breaking off into the crowd and swinging his chain at anybody not smart enough to be out of his way! The Madman from the Smoky Mountains smiles his big ugly smile underneath his big ugly beard and he terrorizes his way toward the ringside area. Fans scatter in his wake as he steps out of the bleachers and stalks up the steps and into the ring, this time stepping over the top rope and then parading around the ring, swinging that chain, daring anybody to stop him.
Moss: King King Frank is certainly a sight to behold!
Howley: Look at him, Moss, he’s gonna kill this guy. Could you imagine if Frank had two brain cells to rub together inside of that big melon of his? He could be dangerous!
Moss: Oh for the love of-
“HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNKKKKKKK!!!”
A hushed silence falls over the room.
Howley: Was that some sort of challenge?
King Kong Frank, his chaos interrupted, turns a serious eye toward the large man across the ring from him. Behind his beard Frank smiles an ugly smile. He sends the chain flying out of the ring and lets loose a guttural laugh just as the referee calls for the bell.
DING! DING!! DING!!!
Like a head on collision they meet dead in the center of the ring. The Big Bad Bus and the Appalachian Nightmare are at it immediately, lefts and rights, haymakers and gut-shots! Neither man gives an inch and the entire studio audience is here for it, cheering on both guys!
Moss: Look at ‘em go, Thunderbird!
Howley: Yeah, yeah, you just wait until one of them runs outta gas.
The referee, sensing something of a draw in the works, does what good referees do. He steps in and does his best to push Frank and the Bus apart. In a moment of clarity, Frank allows himself to be pushed back. He nods at Double Decker with a smile that has a bit more respect behind it now.
Frank: A’ight then, big boy, PITTER PATTER!
KKF takes off again, ducking under a wild clothesline attempt, hitting the ropes, and rebounding with everything he can muster at the big rig in front of him! Frank slams into him with monster truck force only to watch Double Decker crack a smile, brush off his shoulder, and straighten his tie line. This doesn’t sit all that well with the Hillbilly Jesus who decides that no time could be better to use his head than now.
KERAAAAAACK!
Everything goes blurry in Double Decker’s vision as he takes a giant step backward, landing with an arm over the top rope. Frank takes off again and connects with a sloppy-looking clothesline that sends both men over the top rope and down to the floor.
Moss: Out of the way! Get those people out of the way!
Howley: Look at ‘em scatter, Moss!
The fans, finding themselves never on the safe side with King Kong Frank in the studio, make it their business to get all the way out of the way as the two giant grapplers get to their feet and start throwing bombs again! KKF takes the advantage this time though, the moonshine running through his veins sending him into overdrive against the now wind-sucking Double Decker. Frank grabs him by the head and shoulders and sends him headfirst into the corner post as the referee shouts down numbers that Frank promptly ignores.
Moss: Come on, referee! Get ‘em in the ring!
Through some manner of cosmic manipulations the planets find themselves aligned and Frank decides to take this one back into the ring! He forces Double Decker up onto the apron before grabbing him by the head and putting him a stranglehold from the floor! The ref leans through the ropes and starts counting again.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
FOUR!
Finally Frank let’s up, but not before sending the point of his elbow into the throat of Double Decker which sends the big guy back into the ring in nasty coughing fit.
Howley: Ya know Moss, I wanna like this King Kong Frank character, he’s got a mean streak in him, but he’s so damned…
Frank marches up the steps and back into the ring, hooting and hollering the entire time about what a grand ol’ time he’s having.
Moss: Yeah, I get it. He can be a bit eccentric!
Howley: Eccentric? I was gonna say ten pounds of crazy in a five pound bag!
As Double Decker is hacking and coughing and doing his best to regain his breath, the giant mountain man begins stalking his municipal-sized prey.
Moss: Look like King Kong Frank is winding up that Smoky Mountain Spike!
Howley: If he hits it they’ll have to drop that Bus off back at the mechanic shop and pick up a loaner!
Double Decker makes it up to one knee, and Frank is just about to strike when-
Moss: HEY!
Howley: It’s Walt Whezl!
It certainly is! The manager of Lord Colossus has made his way to ringside to a chorus of boos just in time to reach that umbrella of his under the bottom rope and grab hold of King Kong Frank’s bare foot, causing just the distraction that he was looking for! Frank roars in anger and turns his entire frame around, catching Walt in the act and screaming down at him as he reaches a catcher’s mitt sized hand down and grabs Walt by the head and lifts him up onto the apron.
Moss: What in the-
The referee once again gets involved, doing his best to wedge himself between King Kong Frank and his face-painted assailant! Turns out this is exactly what Walt was hoping for, however, as he uses the commotion to engage some sort of contraption on his umbrella and-
Howley: BLACK MIST! WHEZL JUST BLASTED FRANK IN THE FACE WITH THE BLACK MIST!
Moss: King Kong Frank has been blinded!
Howley: And the referee didn’t see anything!
As Frank flails backward and the referee tries to make sense of the situation, nobody expects Double Decker to not only be up, but to be ready to turn this all into an advantage for himself! Frank claws at his eyes and is completely oblivious as he steps right into the waiting arms of Double Decker, who swings the big Appalachian up and around bodily and drops him hard with a sidewalk slam!
Moss: Double Decker shook the ring with that one!
The referee jumps into position as Decker adjusts his weight and covers Frank!
One!
Walt Whezl cackles maniacally at the mayhem he’s caused.
Two!!
Howley: He’s gonna get him, Moss!
THREE!!!
DING! DING!! DING!!!
But the chaos doesn’t stop there, oh no! Before Harold Robbins can get a word in about the winner of the match the entirety of the crowd in the Classic Studio is on their feet booing at Walt Whezl who has found himself inside of the ring and hurling insults at the fallen King Kong Frank. This doesn’t sit too well at all with Double Decker and he is quickly between Walt and Frank taking a protective posture.
Moss: Oh no.
Walt Whezl smiles a Cheshire smile.
Howley: IT’S LORD COLOSSUS!
The Dystopian Disaster doesn’t waste so much as a single second, goozling Double Decker the absolute moment that he turned around, and lifting him up and driving him down hard into the mat with a picture perfect chokeslam!
DING! DING!! DING!!!
DING! DING!! DING!!!
DING! DING!! DING!!!
Moss: Somebody do something!
Nobody does. King Kong Frank tries once again to regain his feet and for his troubles he’s only grabbed by the head and forced into a standing head-scissors. After lifting one gauntlet-clad arm Colossus grabs Frank by the body, lifts, and absolutely plants him with a huge powerbomb.
Howley: He’s gonna kill somebody with that Volt Thrower! I love it!
Finally a cadre of referees and security flood the ringside area, pleading with Walt Whezl to get his Colossus and take their leave. Notice that not a single one of them comes anywhere close to diving in the ring to ask the Colossus himself.
Moss: Fans, we’ve got to take a commercial timeout and try to make some sense of this mess!
Gordy Lovett appears at the curtain and tries comes out to make the save but his manager stops him as we fade out.
Issue One
Backstage at Classic Studios, we see a group of Classic Wrestling employees including referee Felipe Chicoda, Interviewer Serena Reyes and more. The group seem to be discussing the REAL WORLDS CHAMPIONSHIP Tournament.
Suddenly an angry and sweaty Dr Devastation comes stomping by. With a single push he knocks the official into the announcer. When Serena goes down she lets out a yell.
Dr Devastation pays it no mind and keeps stomping on down the hallway.
The camera turns back to the fallen employees, who are now trying to get up. Serena shakes her head in confusion.
From the other side of the screen, Harry Chest “flies” in. He stands in his… uniform with his hands on his hips, chest poked out wide. His huge plume of chest hair stands out.
Harry Chest: Hello Classic Wrestling citizens! Did I hear a damsel in distress!?
He sees Serena and moves in close enough for her to recoil.
Harry Chest: Harry Chest at your service ma’am, can I ask what happened?
Serena looks him up and down and then tries to remember.
Reyes: Some huge guy just came blaring through here, down that hall and knocked us all over.
Chest: What did this big fellow look like?
She’s having a hard time so Felipe sticks his head in.
Chicota: It was a very large man with green pigtails!
The camera zooms in on Harry Chest’s chest hair… then quickly up to his face. His eyes narrow and he recognizes the attribute. Almost under his breath he mutters.
Chest: DOCTOR DEVASTATION!
OK, he yelled it… He turns his attention back to Serena Reyes.
Chest: No need to fear! Harry Chest is here to save you!
With that he lifts his cape and whooshes off down the hall in the direction of the last known whereabouts of Dr. Devastation!
Vito Valentino vs Alex Bruder (WTT Round 2)
Cut to the ring where Harold Robbins stands center stage with a microphone in hand.
Harold Robbins: LADIES AND GENTLEMEN…IT IS TIME…FOR YOUR MAIN EVENT!
Moss: This is a matchup I’ve been waiting for all week, Thunderbird.
Howley: You’re seeing two phenomenal athletes going fisticuffs, one-on-one, mano-e-mano, looking for one thing and one thing only: to advance and fight for that glorious strap.
Moss: My favorite part of this match? Really – these two men are not far apart when it comes to size. Valentino is an inch taller and about 23 pounds heavier, but that shouldn’t be a problem for All Business here tonight.
Howley: In my day – an inch and 23 pounds could make or break a man. We definitely know it could make and break your mother, Moss.
Moss: I’ve gone most of this show without your mom jokes…
Howley: It’s the main event, Moss – I’m not leaving this arena until I atleast slip one in.
The crowd begins to cheer as Robbins continues.
Harold Robbins: The following contest is for one fall with a thirty minute time limit. This is the SECOND ROUND of the Classic Wrestling REAL World Championship tournament. The winner will ADVANCE to the THIRD ROUND!
The famous guitar solo opening of the Eagles’ classic “Life in the Fast Lane” hits the speakers and the crowd goes bananas! Vito “Metro” Valentino makes his way to the ringside area, wearing a green, white, and red short-legged singlet, with black fingerless gloves and white boots with the letters “VV” written in classic cursive handwriting on each side. With a fish in the air, he stops at the steps where the roar of the crowd washes over him like a warm blanket.
Harold Robbins: Coming to the ring first and weighing in at 261 pounds; he hails from BROOKLYN, NEW YORK…this is VITO…METRO…VALENTINO!!!
After pounding the steps three times for good luck, he quickly gets into the ring, ascends a turnbuckle and raises another first for the crowd. Climbing back down, he stretches his arms, shoulders and neck as he awaits his opponent.
Harold Robbins: And his opponent…
“All Business” Alex Bruder walks out to “Train of Consequences” by Megadeath, the lights lowered and a single spotlight on him.
Harold Robbins: From Hillsboro, North Dakota, weighing in at 238 pounds, he is…ALL BUSINESS…ALEX…BRUDDER!
He ignores the crowd, not returning their insults. He enters via the stairs, wipes his boots on the apron, and goes to his corner, pulling against the top ropes, a mixture of last minute stretching and testing the rope’s tension.
Moss: As the referee checks to make sure these two studs are sans illegal items, let’s talk a little bit about where we stand in the brackets.
Howley: How about, instead, we discuss the fact that Alex Bruder’s discourse this past week might be resonating in Valentino’s skull.
Moss: Well, Thunderbird, that’s a good point, because Bruder really put it out there on the line. He didn’t cut any corners. However, that’s the purpose of being All Business when it comes to Alex Bruder. He’s the epitome of the nickname.
It doesn’t take but a second after the bell rings for Valentino and Bruder to immediately lock up. The two superstars are strapped at the collar and elbow. They circle, pushing back and forth, back and forth, both men seemingly trying to outpower the other, as the referee walks around them to study the tie-up. The fans cheer as Valentino, the heavier of the two, gets the better of Bruder after a minute of being locked up. Metro pushes down on All Business with a nice presentation of strength. The Brooklyn Italian sends a side-knee into Alex’s bread basket and Bruder hunches forward. Vito grabs Alex by the back of the head and walks him over to a corner. The crowd is cheering as Valentino tosses Bruder back first against the buckles and then Metro steps up onto the second pad. Vito looks out to the crowd with a smile and shows the fans his fist. He follows that up with a five knuckle pounding to Bruder’s forehead! He slowly raises his fist again and yells out “HOW ABOUT A FEW MORE?” The crowd eats that up but Bruder isn’t waiting for more!
Howley: You gotta be better than that, Vito! You can’t let a geek like Bruder catch you off guard!
Alex lifts Vito away from the turnbuckle and hurries to the center of the ring where he drives Metro back first into the canvas with a beautifully executed slam! Metro hits the ring awkwardly, his lower back taking most of the force, and Bruder hurries to his feet as he’s showered with boos. The referee is at the aid of Valentino as Bruder shrugs off the crowd’s dissatisfaction and turns around to view his opponent in a heap of pain. Bruder begins to unleash a set of stomps! One! Two! Three! Four! Five! The referee counts along as Bruder continues to stomp a crater-sized mud-hole into Valentino. The Italian pushes himself toward a corner with every stomp. Vito is pulling himself up by the buckles as Bruder continues to punish him with remorseless boots. Vito blocks a final stomp and grabs Alex by the ankle. He pushes All Business away and Bruder doesn’t hesitate to drive forward and splashes against Valentino in the corner! Alex peels Vito away front he turnbuckle and walks him into the center of the ring; he scoops Vito from the canvas and slams the 261 pound cabbie!
Moss: Bruder is showing incredible speed. He must’ve picked something up after that great match against Jack Fargo…
Alex Bruder runs toward the ropes and bounces off. He hurries toward the fallen Valentino and drops a slicing leg drop onto Vito’s clavicle! He spins off Metro and immediately reaches to hook the leg. The referee falls for the pin!
ONE!
Howley: Don’t waste any time with wasted pins. This isn’t amatuer hour!
Moss: After a kick out it looks as if Bruder is showing a smidge of frustration at the official.
Vito kicks out and Bruder slaps his hands together three times to signal to the referee that he’s looking for a far more swift three count. Bruder turns to look at Vito but is met with a punch to the lower jaw! Bruder hops back and onto his butt. Valentino rolls onto his knees and lunges toward the seated Bruder and wraps his arm around Alex’s throat! He spins around Bruder and has a sleeper hold applied! The referee is asking Bruder if he’s ok. The fans are cheering and yelling “LET’S GO METRO!” and “SHOW THAT BRUDER WHO’S BOSS!”
Moss: It’s a lively crowd tonight, Thunderbird.
Howley: I used to hear these chants all the time, Moss. All the time. The fans love the Thunderbird. So, I know what it’s like to be loved.
Moss: You were hated just as much.
Howley: It’s “revered”, Moss. We don’t use the word “hate” with the Thunderbird.
It’s been nearly two minutes in the sleeper hold and Bruder is fading. Vito’s arms are wrapped extremely tight. The referee grabs Alex’s left arm and lifts it. It falls! The fans cheer as the referee holds up one finger. He lifts the arm again. IT FALLS! He holds up two fingers. Vito nods his head and presents a tooth grin to the very happy crowd. The referee lifts up Bruder’s arm and…Alex holds it! He holds his arm up! The referee leaps to his feet and calls off the count! Bruder sends an elbow into Valentino’s ribs! He’s pushing himself onto a knee! Vito’s eyes are wide! The fans can’t believe that Bruder is battling through it. Vito applies more downward pressure but Bruder is using much of his strength to power through! Alex shakes his arms and slides to his side with the hold still applied, but he’s now at an angle to drive a couple more elbows into Vito’s abdomen! Valentino let’s go! Bruder stands up and slaps Vito in the face! The crowd jeers, and as Vito stands up with a look of disgust from ear-to-ear…he’s met with an athletic standing drop kick that sends him backfirst into the ropes and he flips over and out of the ring!
Moss: What a dropkick! The force sends Vito to the outside!
Howely: You can use these few seconds to recuperate, but you better get back in that ring and get your act together, Metro!
Valentino’s back lands against the barricade and the fans pat him and send a litany of good praise in his direction. Vito shakes off the drop kick as the referee continues a count while he’s out of the ring. Metro slowly walks to the apron as Bruder stands in the center of the ring; he yawns and checks an imaginary wrist watch. The referee is now at five as Vito guides himself onto the apron and then bends through the ropes. Alex is very speedy, and he races toward Valentino and begins to rain hammering blows upon him! Vito eats every single blow and then stands up straight and punches Alex in the throat! The referee begins to shout and discipline Vito directly after the vicious throat shot, but Vito isn’t arguing, and hurries toward Bruder who is choking and coughing just a few feet away. He spins Alex around and scoops him up! He lifts the 230 pound Bruder up, and above his head! He’s pressing him! One! The crowd is going wild! TWO! THREE! FOUR! FIVE!
Moss: Look at that power!
Howley: Yes, but can he do that to Dr. Devastation? Or, Shujin Yama? This is child’s play, my man! I can bench press 230 pounds in my SLEEP! (we hear a lip smacking sound through the speaker that signifies he just kissed his bicep.)
SIX! SEVEN! EIGHT! NINE! TEN! And then he simply drops him with ease and Bruder falls to the canvas face first and flops around like a fish out of water! Valentino walks over to the turnbuckle and steps onto the second buckle. He sits on the turnbuckle and waits for Bruder to lie on his back, and when Alex does Vito then points at his elbow and dives off the second buckle to send a falling elbow spiked directly into Alex’s forehead! Vito goes for the pinfall, hooking the leg.
ONE!
TWO!
Bruder kicks out and Vito wastes no time to peel Alex from the canvas. He whips Bruder toward the ropes and All Business comes flying toward Metro. LARIAT! NO! Bruder ducks under the swing and then bounces off the ropes once more! Metro spins around. LARIAT! NO! Bruder ducks under the swing yet again, but this time he’s standing directly behind Valentino and immediately reaches for Metro and HOOKS HIM!
Moss: NO WAY!
Howley: Unless Valentino can slip through the sweat and baby oil…this match is over…
Moss: THE CLUTCH IS APPLIED!
COBRA CLUTCH! He kicks Vito in the back of the knees and Valentino falls onto the canvas as Bruder has the COBRA CLUTCH applied!
Moss: In your time, Thunderbird, have you ever been able to get out of the cobra clutch?
Howley: That insinuates I’ve been in the move, and I have not.
Moss: What about the match against Igor the Ruthless down in the New Mexico territory?
Howley: What? That match was stricken from the record when it was realized Igor was using pine tar on his forearms! DOESN’T EXIST! NEVER HAPPENED!
The referee is communicating with Valentino, but the Italian is in pain as Bruder applies more and more pressure with the clutch in place. The crowd is yearning for Valentino to gain momentum and bust out, but Metro is looking very weak at this moment. Vito is trying to wave his free arm and reach for Bruder, but with every flail it seems that Alex applies more and more pressure to Vito’s neck. It’s apparent that Metro is getting desperate, and he’s trying hard to stand.
Howley: That’s right, Vito! SHOW’EM YOUR MUSCLE!
Moss: CAN HE DO BREAK FREE!?
The crowd is cheering him on. Could he gain composure? Vito is slowly standing! He’s going to break out of Bruder’s COBRA CLUTCH! He’s up! Bruder can’t believe it, but the clutch is STILL applied! Bruder jumps onto Vito’s back and wraps his legs around Vito’s waist! Vito falls sideways to the mat and Bruder continues to keep the clutch applied. With more pressure…it seems like Vito is realizing his neck could snap at any second. The referee negotiates with Vito…and it’s with that…Metro’s free hand taps three times against the canvas and the referee immediately signals for the bell.
Moss: NO! NO! NO!
Howley: Bruder’s done it! Alex Bruder was ALL BUSINESS, baby!
Moss: I can’t believe it.
The crowd is in disbelief as Alex Bruder pushes Vito’s body away from him and he sits up onto one knee with a brief look of perplexity followed with a rather odd half grin…
Moss: He’s smiling now, Thunderbird.
Howley: He said he wouldn’t, but it looks as if he’s trying to. He loves this, Moss. This is Bruder’s time!
Harold Robbins: The winner of the match by submission, and advancing to the THIRD round of the Classic Wrestling REAL World’s Championship tournament…
The referee aids Vito Valentino as Metro rolls under the rope and rests on the ring apron while holding the back of his neck. It’s apparent that Bruder’s Cobra Clutch is truly a brutal hold.
Alex Bruder realizes the referee is with Valentino, so he walks over to Harold Robbins and asks that Harold hold up his arm to signify victory. He does just that.
Harold Robbins: …ALL BUSINESS…ALEX…BRUDDER!
Many fans boo, but there are a handful of the crowd paying more attention to Metro Vito Valentino as he hops down from the apron and slowly walks along the ring while holding his neck. He’s disappointed, but more worried about his physical well being. The referee guides him along as the front row claps for Vito and some can be heard saying “Future World Champ…” Meanwhile, Alex Bruder shrugs off the boos and poses in the center of the ring.
Cut back to the commentary table.
Moss: It looks as if Alex Bruder is heading to the third round of the tournament! He’s one more Cobra Clutch away from heading to the BIG SHOW!
Howley: Until then, I’m the most legendary man in this building…
Moss: And I’m Patrick Moss! We’ll see you next time for more unbelievable action here at…
Moss and Howley: CLASSIC WRESTLING!
Thunderbird kisses his bicep once more as the show ends.