Welcome To Classic Wrestling: Episode Six!
“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 SLAM A THON 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!
As the crowd dies down the camera lands on Otto Price at his podium. He stands poised in a suit and tie, his large round glasses reflect a bit of the light. He smiles and brings the microphone up to his mouth, ready to talk to the camera.
Otto Price: Welcome ladies and gentlemen! I’m Otto Price and this is Classic Wrestling on RBTV! We’ve got a huge night of action for you fine fans, as well as many exciting announcements! We’re also going to hear from each and every one of our brand new champions, one way or another, following the biggest night of Pay Per View wrestling that Classic has ever seen!
We see a SLAM A THON logo display next to Otto.
Price: We saw four new championships crowned just a couple weeks ago including the culmination of the REAL WORLDS CHAMPIONSHIP tournament that’s been going on for months! We want to congratulate all the contestants for making it a major success, and helping launch Classic Wrestling to the world! “All Business” Alex Bruder claimed his stake to the title, with a close win over Rush Starling! We also saw a six man battle royal for the debuting Premier American Championship! “Feral” Freddy Kilgore was able to eliminate TWO men at the same time to bring the championship back to…well…wherever Freddy is right now!
A small KILGORE! KILGORE! chant breaks out amongst the fans.
Price: Finally the Tag Team Champions were crowned when Bobby Dean and Some Man took out the team of Carlo and Gomez, The Amazing Amarettos! With men from both tag teams slated for action tonight, we’re going to get just a glimpse of the tag team division that is coming up in Classic Wrestling! It will be interesting to see what happens there, the last time we saw Bobby and Lunchbox, they were on the receiving end of a beatdown orchestrated by Eddie Dante by The Foreign Legion!
Boos ring out through the arena at mere mention of their name.
Price: I can see our hometown crowd here are not big fans of that team! Finally folks we’re also going to hear from the man keeping things in line here, Commissioner “Gruff” Myers will be out here to address some items from SLAM-A-THON later tonight! You don’t want to miss this episode of CLASSIC WRESTLING!
The music cuts back in as we transition from Otto to the backstage.
We skip backstage to BDSM.
That’s Bobby Dean and Some Man. AKA Beautiful Bobby Dean and Lunchbox Larry. AKA Classic Wrestling’s Tag Team Champions.
The rotund Robert Dean still has both belts interlocked around his large waist. Larry still looks at them longingly every now and then. The bandage still wraps around Dean’s pinky finger.
LL: So whaddya think, Mr. Dean?
Startled out of a trance, Bobby snaps his head up from staring at the two belts around his belly. His eyes dart around as he tries to recall what Larry was talking about in the first place.
BBD: Yeah, sure. That all sounds great, Gary.
Lunchbox pumps his fist, catching Dean’s full attention. Seeing his usually nervous mentee so happy causes concern to build up within.
BBD: Uh, wait, what?
Larry throws his big arms around his girth-gifted mentor.
LL: I KNEW you’d be there for me, Mr. Dean. My Maw had you all wrong. You really do care!
The words cause The Beautiful Man from Honalee to shake his head with worry. His eyes nearly pop out of their sockets.
BBD: WHAT’RE YOU TALKING ABOUT?
Lunchbox steps back, looking shocked and confused. His brows scrunch up as he looks quizzically at his tag partner.
LL: You’re not one of them multiple personality people are you, Mr. Dean? One second I’m asking you to accompany me down to the ring just in case that scary Mushi guy or the psycho manager man try anything funny… and just seconds later you have no clue what’s going on? Is your name still Mr. Dean? Do you know WHERE you are right now? Did I hug you too hard?
BBD: STOP! No…
You see Bob’s eyes darting yet again. Trying to find a way out of this. But after a few seconds, the man with both tag titles around his waist sighs in defeat.
Larry’s eyes drop like a dejected child.
LL: Well you don’t ha-
Immediately guilt-ridden, Bobby waves his fat arms for Lunchbox to stop talking.
BBD: Of course I’ll be there for ya, Gary! What kind of mentor and tag team champion would I be, if I didn’t? SHEESH! I just felt a little bad for the other guys. Mushman and Dante’s Inferno won’t stand a chance with me down there. HECK, Leon Van Can’t-Wrestle might even forfeit when he sees me standing there looking all Beautiful! I’m just wondering if me being there is too much for him. I really want to see you beat him against all the odds, ‘cause I know ya can, buddy!
There’s that Bobby Dean wink and grin.
Larry lifts his head back up, smiling that naive smile of his own.
LL: It’s time to teach them a lesson! BDSM can handle the rough stuff!
Dean bursts out laughing. Larry scratches his head, probably starting to wonder about the personality disorder again. The scene cuts.
Bowie Abrams vs Gomez Amaretto
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.
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
Harold Robbins: Coming to the ring first, accompanied by Carlo Amaretto and the lovely Suzie, Weighing in at 237 pounds, standing in at six feet one inch…. GOMEZ AMARETTO!
The crowd boos loudly but that quickly changes as 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. They play to the studio audience, 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.
Harold Robbins: And his opponent accompanied by Bradlee Nelson. Weighing in at 210 pounds and standing at Six feet two inches…. BOWIE ABRAMS!!.
The ref checks both men for objects and points for the bell to ring. As the bell rings both men circle one another. Gomez holds a hand up for a test of strength. Waving Bowie to grab his hand. Slowly the bro grabs a hold of the hand. Bowie raises his other hand up, Gomez feigns grabbing it and kicks Bowie in the midsection. Slumping over Gomez strikes quickly with a fist to the side of the face. Followed up by another. Bowie blocks the final attempt.
Moss: Bowie seems to be a little overwhelmed at the moment.
Howley: The Amaretto’s are stellar whether they are a team or solo!
Gomez locks up Bowie with a side headlock. Grinding the hold deeper and deeper as Bowie reaches for the ropes only to be dragged back to the middle. Bowie grabs Gomez by the hips and lifts him up, but Gomez kicks his legs wildly causing Bowie to bring him down. Still wrenching the hold deep, the ref slides in and checks, as Bowie adamantly doesn’t give in.
Howley: Come on Bowie just call it a night Brah!
Moss: Gomez has the headlock in deep, but Bowie isn’t about to give up that easily.
Howley: If he knew what was good for him he would!
Moss: Looks like Gomez has Bowie down to a knee.
Gomez kicks the back of Bowie’s plant leg, taking him down to a knee. The fans begin to stamping cheer on Bowie. You can sense that he’s feeling the energy from the crowd. Bowie begins to get amped up, and up to a sturdy base. A quick succession of elbows to the belly of Gomez and he breaks the hold. Bowie tries to run at the ropesbut Gomez grabs him by the hair and drags him to the ground.
Moss: The ref is really giving Gomez some leeway there.
Howley: Don’t want your hair grabbed? Don’t have hair, simple as that!
Gomez stomps away at Bowie who rolls to the bottom rope, causing the ref to back the Amaretto off. He jaws with the ref for a moment, while Bowie holds himself up as Carlo gets Bowie’s attention and produces a flower that squirts water in his face. Gomez shoves past the ref and quickly gets Bowie into a small package. The ref drops down.
Carlo grabs Bowie’s foot to keep the pressure.
Moss: The ref can’t see it because Gomez is blocking the view!!!!
Howley: See ya later Bowie! Better luck next time!
Bradlee kicks Carlo’s arm breaking his hold as Bowie kicks out before the three count. Carlo and Bradlee begins brawling on the outside of the ring. Gomez gets to his feet thinking he won. Holding his arms high when he is informed that it was only a two count. By the time Gomez realizes the error he is met by a shoulder tackle from Bowie. Bowie builds a head of steam. Bowie lands a huge clothesline, Gomez quickly pops up but is quickly downed by another. Bowie picks Gomez up and lands a huge body slam.
Howley: Get up Gomez!!!
Moss: Bowie with a head of steam.
Bowie drops an elbow across the chest of Gomez. Then quickly gets up and lands another. Bowie runs to the corner and climbs up to the top rope. Holding onto the top rope for balance. Carlo comes up on the apron, but is met by a boot to the face as Bradlee grabs him at the same time, dragging him to the ground. Bowie leaps from the top rope.
Moss: CONTACT HIGH!!!!
After the huge contact Bowie recoils off of Gomez. Holding his ribs Bowie grabs the near leg and makes an attempt of a pin.
Bradlee slides into the ring and picks Bowie and holds his hand high in the air as the crowd cheers loudly.
Harold Robbins: The winner of this match Via Pinfall…. BOWIE ABRAMS!!!
Moss: The Surf Express Bro is officially on the board in the win column! Nice statement win here for Bowie! It’s going to be fun to see how high they can go here in Classic Wrestling!
Howley: Do you even listen to what comes out of your mouth MOSS!? I don’t know if we can say any of that on the air!
The tag team celebrate on their way back through the curtain as the fans cheer loudly.
No More Mr Nice Guy
Backstage, Scott Hunter and Craig Massey are sitting in a small conference room, only suitable for three, maybe four people. One wall is taken up by windows, which gives its occupants an expansive view of the arena parking lot.
Scott Hunter is leaning back in his chair, irritated, his arms crossed, and frowning his deepest frown.
Craig Massey is wearing a nice blazer, with khaki-colored pants and a very smart pair of business shoes that definitely do NOT look like they were inspired by Buster Browns (Google it).
Massey sighs, and leans forward with his elbows on the table between them.
Massey: So, you lost again.
Hunter: You say that like it was my fault.
Massey: You tapped out.
Hunter: That was a total misunderstanding. My stupid stupid partner was supposed to break that submission hold up, and so, knowing and trusting that he would, I didn’t even try to get out of it, and now…. My neck hurts.
Massey: You lose because you haven’t been taking any of this seriously. You think it’s all a big joke, and you aren’t putting the work in that’s necessary to be great.
Hunter: (pfft-ing) What do you know about being great, old man?
Massey sighs and gestures to the window.
Massey: Scott, look out the window and tell me what you see.
Hunter looks out the window and squints.
Hunter: A fly-ass T-top Pontiac Fiero?
Massey: And do you have any idea who that car belongs to?
Hunter: That awesome security dude Randy who always wears flip-up sunglasses?
Hunter: That cool trainer who’s always teaching with rap lyrics?
Hunter: Charles Barkley?
Hunter: Power couple Burt Reynolds and Loni Anderson?
Hunter: The lead singer of UB40?
Hunter: The cast of “Benson”?
Hunter: Bo Jackson’s cousin Todd, Todd Jackson?
Hunter: Jermaine Jackson?
Hunter: Bo knows Todd.
Massey slams both hands on the table, exasperated.
Massey: NO! ME! ME, ME, ME!! It’s my car.
While Massey fumes, considering his next words, Hunter raises a hand to his chin and rubs it thoughtfully.
Hunter: So you’re saying…..?
Massey closes his eyes briefly, then opens them again, resetting himself.
Massey: I’m saying, it took a lot of hard work, paying a lot of dues up and down the roads before I could call myself a success in this business, so that I could be in the position to guide you through all of this.
A notably sad expression comes across Hunter’s face.
Hunter: In other words, I’m a great big fat loser who needs to get some things straight and I’m an embarrassment to myself, my family and the entire cast of the classic sitcom Just the 10 of Us?
Massey: I’ve never seen that show, actually, so I’m not sure.
Hunter: Well, it’s clear. You said it yourself. I need to work harder. I need to stop depending on talent alone. I need to start doing whatever it takes to win. WHATEVER IT TAKES.
Massey: There you go!
Hunter: GOD I’M SUCH AN IDIOT!
Massey holds up one hand and tilts his head slightly.
Massey: Well, hold on, don’t oversell it.
Hunter starts smacking himself in the head.
Hunter: STUPID STUPID STUPID!!
Massey: Dude, you’ve got to stop this. You’re just hurting yourself. Trust me, you’re gonna be fine.
Hunter stomps a foot like a petulant child.
Hunter: Don’t say “fine”. The old me was “fine”. That was my thing, being “fine”.
Massey: Okay, we’ve got to cheer you up. How about we go play stickball at the Wawa?
Hunter: The old me used to go to the Wawa. That was my thing.
Massey: I suppose it doesn’t matter anyway. I’m not sure there’s a Wawa anywhere around here. We could go toilet-paper Gordy Lovett’s house.
Hunter’s frown deepens further.
Hunter: The old me used to use toilet paper. That was my thing.
Massey sits back, thoughtfully.
Massey: Okay. Oh! I know how to prove you can find your way again. We can watch a teen rom com.
Hunter: (bursting with emotion) The old me used to love teen rom coms! That was my thing! And while we’re at it, I can’t believe you used a car as an analogy. I can’t even drive a car and here you are rubbing it in my face!
Massey: (internally saying “ugh” to himself) You’re welcome to take the test again, you know. Until you do, you’ll just have to ride the bus. You can’t ride in my Fiero. You have to earn that right.
Hunter: I can’t ride the bus anymore. Do you know what kinda people are on there?
Massey: A delightful cross-section of this great city?
Hunter: It’s a rolling caravan of monsters!
Massey: Come on, that’s not entirely fair, man.
Hunter jabs his index finger in Craig Massey’s face.
Hunter: What’s not fair is having someone cough soup on you.
Massey: (sarcastically) So you’re making friends. Good for you.
Hunter: Don’t! Okay? You got your fancy little sports car, and I have to sit next to a lady with an animal in her lap I don’t even recognize. It has the qualities of a squirrel but the face of a baby.
Massey: (confused) That can’t be real.
Hunter jabs his index finger in Massey’s face one more time.
Hunter: You want to know what’s real? An old man with a unibrow didn’t break eye contact with me for over an hour. “Why are you smiling, sir? And where are you going with all that fish?” And another old man showed me the bruise on his back! It was like looking at the inside of a pomegranate.
Massey: (a little grossed out) Eww.. that’s not right.
Hunter: What’s not right is how much cooking is done on there. I saw a guy heating up a pot of eels.
Hunter: Eels! And there’s so much fighting. An old woman clocked the bus driver with a fraternity paddle! Who gave that to her??
Massey throws his hands up.
Massey: Scott, maybe you just need to walk.
Hunter: (looking at Massey like he’s an idiot) Are you a crazy person?? My apartment is like a mile from here.
Massey, finally, places both hands on the table and leans forward.
Massey: Listen to me. The important thing is, we need to turn this thing around. And you need to figure out exactly how to show everyone what kind of a person Scott Hunter really is. Whatever it takes, you hear me? Whatever…. it takes.
Hunter frowns, then a slow snarl creeps upon his face.
Hunter: Yes. Yes, you’re right. Of course, you’re right. No more Mr. Nice Guy.
Massey: Good. This is it. Your chance to fix it. Make it happen.
Hunter: (intensely) Don’t worry, believe me. I will.
Freddy Chedda vs Dash Dackson
Freddy Chedda stands in the ring and stretches on the ropes in a corner. Harold Robbins stands in the center of the ring holding the microphone.
Flash Gordon starts on the PA as smoke bellows on the stage. A spotlight zeroes in on the center of the stage where Dash is knelt down. In time with the music he stands up and puts his hands in the air. His trusty robot companion, Hello World, wheels behind him as Dash slaps hands with some fans as he makes his way to the ring. He rolls into the ring and does a very exaggerated point and shouts “THE FUTURE!”.
Robbins: Making his way to the ring, weighing in at 210 pounds, he hails from
Crowd: THE FUTURE!
Robbins: Ladies and gentleman… “THE FUTURE” DASH..DACKSON!
Dackson and Chedda briefly circle one another before locking up in the middle of the ring. Chedda immediately snags a side headlock and squeezes tightly, but Dackson manages to back him into the near ropes and shoot him off to the far side. On the rebound, Chedda sends Dackson crashing to the mat with a shoulder tackle! He goes to drop an elbow across Jackon’s chest, but Dackson rolls out of the way and gets to his feet. As soon as Chedda gets to his feet, he’s greeted with a quick scoop slam from Dackson!
Dackson greets Chedda as he works his way to his feet and launches him into the corner, charges, and connects with a heavy splash! Chedda slumps over in the corner gasping for air as Dackson plays to the crowd in the center of the ring, momentarily distracting the referee.
Moss: Hey! Look at Hello World! What’s he doing?!
Hello World moves mechanically over toward the corner and clasps a vice grip around Chedda’s ankle! He yells out in pain and struggles to get away, but Hello World holds steady, really clamping down. Chedda is eventually able to pull himself loose just before the referee turns around and hobbles back toward the center of the ring. Dackson meets him in the center with a stiff kick to the gut and a devastating DDT that spikes Chedda’s head off the mat! He covers!
Robbins: The winner of this match via pinfall… “THE FUTURE” DASH DACKSON!
Moss: Dash walks away with the win here tonight, folks, albeit with a little help from Hello World!
Howley: Help or not, Moss, that ring has a Chedda shaped dent in it from that DDT and Dash Dackson’s got another W on his record.
The First Challenge
We cut to Otto Price who stands in front of the entrance way with a mic in hand.
Otto Price: Ladies and gentleman, I’d ask you to give a warm welcome to my guest at this time. The man who was victorious in the six man battle royal at Slam-A-Thon
The crowd begins to buzz as it dawns on them who Price is referencing.
Otto Price: …and he is our NEW Premier American Champion. Ladies and gentlemen: FERAL! FREDDY! KILLLLLLLGORE!!!
As the opening riffs to Motley Crew’s “Wild Side” echo through the Classic Studio, the fans rise to their feet with a raucous cheer! “Wild” Kat Diamond walks through the curtain, looking equal parts excited and dangerous per usual. She nods her head in approval at the crowd reaction and then throws her hands back dramatically as if she’s Vana White… and here’s Freddy Kilgore! Even though he’s not competing tonight, he’s dressed in full ring gear with one new accessory: The Premier American Championship is firmly around his chiseled waist!
Kilgore initially walks past Price so that he is in full view of both the fans in the arena and the camera. He cups his hands to his mouth and leans back with a wild and savage HOOOOOOWWWLLL!! The fans on the right side of the arena give him a HOWL right back. He repeats this with the left side and they also respond in kind. Kilgore suddenly walks up so that his face is filling the camera. He un-snaps the PAC from his waist and holds it up into the camera.
Freddy Kilgore: This is for ALL YOU, BABY!
Kilgore walks back to take position standing next to both Otto and Wild Kat. The music fades out, but before Otto can speak, a chant rises up from inside the small arena…
“LET’S GO WILD THANG!” (clap, clap, clap clap clap)
“LET’S GO WILD THANG!” (clap, clap, clap clap clap)
Kilgore raises the title belt to acknowledge the fans’ support and they cheer in response.
Otto Price: Freddy Kilgore! It’s clear the people here are with you coming off your big win at Slam-A-Thon where you outlasted five only men to go down in the record books as the first EVER Premier American Champion.
Price moves the mic over to Kilgore. Papa Wild Thang is so amped he can barely stand still.
Freddy Kilgore: LET ME LAY IT ON YA, OTTO-MAN!
Kilgore hands the belt to Kat so that he can gesticulate wildly with his now free hands.
Freddy Kilgore: At Slam-A-Thon, baby, it was mayhem! It was chaos! It was the exact environment in which Papa Wild Thang thrives, baby! And when all the smoke had cleared, Freddy Kilgore stood alone. The King of the Jungle. The Alpha Predator. The man who now holds the Premier American Championship…
Kilgore taps the belt, now slung over Wild Kat’s rather attractive shoulder. You know – if you’re into that kind of thing.
Freddy Kilgore: And what his belt means is that Freddy Kilgore is ready for battle! I know the score, Otto-Bot: Papa Wild Thang has to defend this belt often and against all comers. And I wouldn’t have it any other way, baby! Classic Wrestling is ripe with warriors, and it’s my job to give them a chance to step up…
Kligore flattens one hand and raises it up in the air… before using his other hand to smack it back down to his side.
Freddy Kilgore: …so I can knock them back down!! This is a message to everybody in the back: if you want the Premier American Championship, you’ve gotta step into the lion’s den, baby! Because Freddy Kilgore is…
The loud sound reverberates around the arena, causing Kilgore to pause mid-sentence. He, Kat, and Otto Price’s attention is drawn to movement to their side, as the wily Sensei Abe Lincoln slinks into frame. With his hands clasped together in front of him, he cackles in slow, drawn out breaths.
Sensei Abe Lincoln: Heh… heh… heh… congratulation Freddy-San… you are new Premier American Champion. Shujin Yama could not think of more appropriate representation of America, mmhmm.
Kilgore’s brow furrows. He visibly puffs himself up and stands between Wild Kat and Lincoln.
Freddy Kilgore: You’re gonna have to be more clear, baby. Say what you mean when addressing Papa Wild Thang.
Sensei Abe Lincoln: Shujin Yama hears you call yourself ‘Wild’. Shujin Yama thinks more appropriate word is ‘primitive’, mmhmm. Shujin Yama thinks that you not true champion, but animal needing to be put down. For the good of America… heh… heh… heh.Kilgore’s eyes bug out.Freddy Kilgore: You talk a big game for such a little man, but I look around here and I don’t see Shujin Yama. So either produce your monster or stop running your mouth before this “animal” puts his fist DOWN your throat, baby.
On cue, the gargantuan frame of Shujin Yama emerges. The camera pans back so that he can even fit on the screen. Stoic, silent, and sinister, he steps behind Lincoln, locking eyes with Kilgore.
Sensei Abe Lincoln: Shujin Yama is here. Shujin Yama is everywhere. Shujin Yama is eternal.
Lincoln looks back to Yama, who continues to stare, unblinking, at Kilgore.
Sensei Abe Lincoln: Shujin Yama has taken vow of silence until Classic Wrestling give him respect he deserves. Shujin Yama wants to start with you. Two weeks time, mmhmm. Shujin Yama wants first shot at Premier American Championship.
Kilgore reaches over, beckoning for the championship belt from Wild Kat. She hands it to him. He holds it high into the air as he steps up to Yama to match his gaze.
Freddy Kilgore: I don’t know why you need this toadie to speak for you, Yama – but if you want a piece of PAPA WILD THANG – ALL YOU GOTTA DO IS ASK! VOW OF SILENCE OR NOT – IT’S ON, BABY! YOU MIGHT BE BIG, YOU MIGHT BE STRONG – BUT IN TWO WEEKS TIME, YOU WILL FEEL THE POWER OF WILD HEART NATION!!
In response, many of the fans let loose their best howls. Kilgore continues to hold the belt high as he and Yama stare daggers into each other.
Sensei Abe Lincoln: Heh… heh… heh… rest assured, Freddy-San, this will be no battle royal, mmhmm. You will have to find way to put Shujin Yama on his back. That… easier said than done…
Lincoln slips off screen, as Yama lingers a second longer, staring down Kilgore, before he departs alongside his associate.
Otto Price: There you have it, folks! On the next episode of Classic Wrestling, Freddy Kilgore will make his first defence of the Premier American Championship against Shujin Yama!
Lunchbox Larry vs Leon Van Zandt
#Old Town Maine#
Lunchbox Larry pops out of the curtain to a great reaction from the Classic Connesuirs in the studio tonight! With his trusty lunch pail in one giant hand, Larry raises his other arm to an ovation that just about brings a tear to the young Tag Team Champ’s eyes. Well, that is until the record literally scratches and Larry’s theme is replaced with…
#You’re the Best (Around)#
Bobby Dean bebops his way out and immediately plunges himself right in front of Larry. Bobby soaks in the crowd’s love for Larry as he literally blocks out the spotlight that had been shining on his young protege. For those keeping score at home, Bobby has both tag team titles strapped together around his monumental waist.
Howley: Ain’t Bobby Dean great?
Moss: Are you feelin’ okay, Thunderbird?
Howley: ‘Course I am, Moss, why?
Moss: No reason…
Bobby grabs Larry’s lunchbox and shoos the greenhorn into the ring before turning his attention to the stash of slightly melty candy bars that the big kid from Maine had no idea that Bobby had smuggled into his signature accessory.
#New World Symphony, 4th Movement#
Eddie Dante is out first, leading his men like the general that he is! Out next is Mushigihara with a scowl on his face and a set of eyes that could send a grown man crying to his mother. Behind his partner and manager is Leon Van Zandt, the Belgian Brutalizer is all business tonight as he stalks past Dante and Mushi and immediately takes his place in the ring, going eye to eye with the larger Lunchbox Larry. Larry does his best to match Leon’s intensity but even a blind man can see that the Gent from Ghent is already living rent-free inside of Larry’s head.
Howley: Look at that, Moss, Van Zandt’s already won the mental game and the bell hasn’t even rung!
Moss: That may be true, T-bird, but look at the size of this kid! He’s a blue-chipper for sure! He’s just gotta put it all together!
Howley: Not gonna lie, he’s got himself a hell of a teacher, but Leon Van Zandt ain’t the kind of guy you wanna cut your teeth on if yer pickin’ up what I’m puttin’ down!
The music fades and referee Chip Newman calls for the bell!
DING! DING!! DING!!!
The Belgian Brutalizer charges in at the behest of Eddie Dante at ringside, but Larry is just as quick as he is big and he sidesteps LVZ! There is no reaction from Larry’s player/coach at ringside because Bobby is deep into his fourth or fifth candy bar and has apparently completely forgotten that Larry is in there with one of the two men that desperately want to relieve him of both of those tag title belts.
Moss: Van Zandt a little overzealous there!
Howley: All part of the plan, Moss!
Larry is across the ring and rebounding from the ropes before LVZ can even turn around, and when he does he’s got the leaping frame of Lunchbox coming at him like a nose-diving jumbo jet!
Moss: KNUCKLE SAAAAAMMIIIIEEEEEE!!!
As it turns out, Leon is pretty quick himself, ducking Larry’s leaping punch and leaning into his body, hooking the bigger man by the head and arm and transitioning him down to the mat so smoothly that you’d be excused if you said he’d absolutely planned it that way.
Howley: Rookie mistake! He’s gonna pay for that!
Larry flops like a fish out of water, putting every bit of size and strength that he has into keeping Leon from locking in his dreaded Sugar Hold finisher! It doesn’t matter one iota, LVZ is a master at his craft and Larry’s greener than a goose turd. As such it takes Leon less than a second to have Larry down on the mat and almost completely tied up.
Howley: Told ya!
It’s only now that Bobby Dean casually looks up from his now empty stolen lunchbox and takes notice of his partner’s predicament. Without a second thought, Bobby reaches a flabby arm in and snags Larry by the boot, pulling his foot under the bottom rope before LVZ can synch it in fully. Eddie Dante is apoplectic at ringside and immediately sends Mushigihara around ringside to take care of the Foreign Legion’s “light” work.
Bobby Dean shrieks like a small child and takes off running away from The Emporer. He makes it about four steps before he’s completely blown up and gasping for air.
Moss: This is ridiculous.
Howley: Over here, Bobbo! I’ll save you!
Referee Chip Newman considers ejecting Bobby for getting involved. He makes Leon break the hold and the Professional is immediately up and in his face demanding a disqualification. In all of the confusion, Larry shoots his shot again, reaching up and pulling LVZ down for a textbook schoolboy roll-up.
LVZ kicks out with as much authority as one can from a schoolboy. Immediately he’s back on the attack, wrestling circles around the younger opponent. Meanwhile, Bobby Dean has found his way to the commentary desk at the behest of apparently his biggest fan, Joel Howley.
Howley: Shove over, Moss! Let the man have a seat!
Oblivious, Bobby somehow manages to take Moss’s seat as the play-by-play man dives out of the way.
BBD: Didja see that? That Moo Shu Gai Pan almost got me! But I got away!
Howley: You sure did, Bobbo!
Meanwhile, back in the ring Lunchbox Larry has managed to take the upper hand on Leon Van Zandt by sheer force of willpower and human mass. He plants LVZ with a gutwrench suplex but isn’t able to capitalize on it before Eddie Dante hops up onto the apron from ringside, brandishing that wooden cane of his as if he wants to take a shot at Lunchbox.
Patrick Moss, having taken a knee beside the commentary desk, rolls his eyes.
Moss: Here we go…
BBD: Are we going somewhere? Can we get something to eat? I skipped elevensies and second breakfast getting Larry ready for his big match!
As Newman turns to admonish Dante on the apron Mushigihara rolls into the ring. Larry never sees him and before he knows it Mushi has muscled him backward, up and over, and dropped him high on the upper back and shoulders with the Empororer Suplex! Larry lands hard and the momentum actually causes him to end up back on his feet, albeit completely on rubber legs.
Howley: Looks like your partner’s out of his league in there, Bobbo!
BBD: Not my problem! The kid practically begged me not to overshadow him again like I did when I single-handedly won us these Tag Team Titles!
Mushi rolls out just in time for Chip Newman to almost catch him! As the referee turns away from Dante to admonish The Empororer, Eddie tosses the cane in to Leon Van Zandt who quickly puts it to its intended purpose.
Larry goes down hard. Leon tosses the International Object away as Eddie drops down and hustles over to Mushi, pushing his monster back and away from the ring with the most innocent face he can put on for the referee. Newman turns around just in time to see Leon hook the unconscious Lunchbox Larry into the Sugar Hold. After a cursory check, he calls for the bell.
DING! DING!! DING!!!
Moss: What a sham!
Howley: Ya really do hate to see that.
BBD: See? I’ve been trying to tell everybody that BDSM is all about me, Bobby Dean! Does anybody listen? OF COURSE NOT!
Howley: Proof’s in the pudding, am I right?
BBD: Mmm! Pudding! Hey Joel, make your lackey go get me some pudding!
Howley: You heard the man, Moss! Get him some pudding!
In the ring Mushigihara has rejoined his partner and the two of them get to the business of putting boots to Larry while Eddie Dante directs traffic. After some pleading from the referee and a threat to overturn the match, they finally leave the kid alone and take their leave of the ring. Eddie Dante couldn’t be happier.
BBD: All this pudding talk has me famished! I’mma go get me a snack! See ya later!
With that Bobby vacates Moss’s seat and waddles his way backstage as the referee helps Larry get to his feet inside the ring. It will take the entirety of the commercial break for either tag champion to get to where they’re going and that’s funny because reasons. #fatshame
Consequences and Statements
Back from the break and Otto Price, looking as dapper as dapper can look in a navy blue blazer with the Classic logo stitched prominently on the breast, stands behind his podium with that CW-flagged microphone in his hand and a big, toothy smile plastered all over his face.
Otto: We’re back, ladies and gentlemen, and right now I’d like to bring out the new Sheriff in this here town, MISTER GRIFFIN MYERS!
The fans in the studio audience give a polite reception to the Classic Commissioner as he steps out onto the stage dressed in a CW polo shirt tucked smartly into khaki pants. Bulging biceps poke out from beneath short sleeves and the look on his face tells you everything you need to know about this grizzled veteran of the ring!
Gruff: Good evening, Otto.
Otto: Mr. Meyers!
Gruff: Come on, Otto, you’ve known me a long time, call me Gruff!
Otto: Alright then, Mister Gruff…
The Commissioner deadpans.
Otto: …you’ve asked for this time tonight, what’s on your mind?
Gruff: It’s real simple, Otto. Consequences. That’s what’s on my mind!
Gruff: That’s right! For as long as I’m responsible for the goings-on here at Classic Wrestling we’re gonna have some accountability! Otherwise, when you get these big boys with their big egos together it’s all chaos and that’s no good for business! Now from here on out, every action these boys make is gonna get an EQUAL and OPPOSITE action outta me!
Otto: Newton’s 3rd Law?
Gruff: That’s right! An’ anybody that don’t like it can go find themselves a job somewhere else! Which brings me to my point, GORDY LOVETT, get yer big Texan butt out here!
They wait. The fans show their general discord with the Cowpuncher.
Gruff: Gordy Lovett, come on down!
Nothing happens. It doesn’t take long for Gruff to get impatient.
Gruff: Gordy! You better get on out here befo-
Doris Hilton makes her way out to the podium with a smug look on her face. Aside from that, she looks impeccable, not a hair out of place or a wrinkle to be found anywhere. She crosses her arms defiantly and cocks a hip out, her entire body language screams not amused.
Gruff: Before I fire his country ass, that’s what!
Doris: I’ve given Gordy the day off, something about a sick horse back on the ranch. But go ahead, fire him, see if I care! Just know that if you break his contract not only will you still be liable to pay the ridiculously large downside guarantee that I negotiated for him, but I’ll have my lawyers tie you up in court for so long that Jimmy Dale’ll have to take out a second and third mortgage just to keep this place runnin’!
It’s Gruff’s turn to appear completely unimpressed.
Gruff: Is that right?
She smirks her answer.
Doris: Try me.
A wry smile develops on Gruff’s weathered face.
Gruff: Well then, since the only thing you seem to understand is money, well by God I can speak money too! How about FIVE THOUSAND DOLLARS? How’s that sound?
The firecracker of a manager scrunches up her face.
Doris: Sounds like chump change, why?
Gruff: Because that’s how much I’m gonna fine Gordy Lovett for involvin’ himself in that match between King Kong Frank and Lord Colossus last week at SLAM-A-THON! You understand that?
The smirk on Doris’ face morphs into a scowl.
Doris: I’ll have a check on your desk within the hour. Are we done here?
Gruff: As a matter of fact we ain’t! If you wanna tell yerself that you gave that boy the night off, that’s fine, whatever helps ya sleep at night on that big ol’ pile’a money your daddy gave ya! But I’m the one that didn’t schedule him for a match tonight because I had this business to attend to before I let him rassle in a Classic ring again! But now that we got that outta the way I’m happy to book him for next week, and if’n you decide to “give him the night off” again I’ll fire him for breach’a contract and we can skip all’a that bullcrap with yer lawyers!
Doris huffs and stamps her feet.
Gruff: Next week it’s gonna be Gordy takin’ on KING KONG FRANK over there in that ring! An’ we’ll see what kinda guts that cow-punchin’ idiot has when he’s gotta look that big hillbilly in the face instead of jumpin’ on him from behind… AGAIN! Now get on outta here so we can get this show movin’!
Doris: Well I never-
Gruff: I SAID GIT WOMAN!
Having been put in her place in a way that she probably never has, Doris turns on her high heels and stalks off-stage where she’ll make life hell for probably the next six or eight or a hundred people that crosses her path.
Otto: Well then!
If there was ever a worse time for Motorhead’s Ace of Spades to begin its PCP fueled hell march, you’d be hard-pressed to find it. Walt Whezl appears first, face painted into a ghoulish grin with inverted crosses at the corners of his mouth.
After bowing as insults and more tangible items are hurled at him, Lord Colossus is behind the now minuscule Whezl. He is in his spike and leather ensemble and for all of him managing to suck the light out of everything around him.
This light devouring void marches to the ring, Whezl careering in front of him, brandishing his umbrella festively.
Whezl bows as the Colossus in two steps steps from the floor to the ring. He follows in. Before Whezl can utter word one
Gruff: Now you wait one damn-
Before he can finish that thought.
Whezl: Now now!
Gruff: Now, you listen here, you little runt!
Lord Colossus steps forward leather creaking.
Gruff: And you. You can stop tryna menace me like some kind of backwoods hillbilly. You keep your man in line Whezl. You keep him from tearing anything pillar from post. Otherwise, and I want you to write this down cause you seem fond o’ paper. Lord Colossus, gonna find some consequences of his own!
The Classic crowd roars in approval! Lord Colosuss’ eyes burn with tehomic fire. Gruff walks himself back out of the ring, eyes on the towering menace before him
Whezl: Now that… THAT unpleasant business has been dealt with. I would like each and every one of you.
Whezl sneers at the camera.
Whezl: YES! Even you to acknowledge that before you stands the greatest and most calamitous wonder to ever beheld in Classic Wrestling. Slam-a-thon further proved that the path of domination is paved in the blood and the bones of the unworthy.
You should ALL kneel before the Master of Voltage!
Most of all, you should know that, even if Classic Wrestling tries to restrain the Lord Colossus…
Lord Colossus begins removing his ceremonial armbands and vest, and chaps. Replete with enough spikes to set off a metal detector at viewing distance.
Lord Colossus forcibly removes the microphone from Whezl’s hand from behind, sending the smaller man scrambling to the back.
Lord Colossus: Worms, churls. You will now witness true domination. I demand meat for sacrifice.
The not-even remotely threatening BOM BOM BOM of “What’s new Pussycat” by Tom Jones begins its sultry smooth sounds as two masked, and skinny gentlemen in single shoulder singlets step out from behind the curtain. Their masks helpfully marked with “I” and “II”, they limber up their shoulders looking up at Lord Colossus, who looms even from this distance.
Not being daunted. Both men stride over to the ring. They high five as they slide under the bottom rope.
Whezl returns following the two men who combined are maybe two thirds of three fifths of Lord Colossus. Whose chest just heaves slowly in and out. Whezl has somehow found a referee shirt replete with inverted crosses and his own face in black and white on the chest.
Whezl calls for the bell, which is rung for some reason.
I and II look at Lord Colossus, who remains immobile, a void looming. After some brief consultation, they both charge Lord Colossus, linking hands into a Double Clothesline!
Which has ZERO effect on the big man, they both look up, as he roars with laughter and guzzles the both of them!
Lifting them off of their feet, he helpfully returns them to the mat with a thunderous double chokeslam!
Picking up I, he tosses him on top of II and puts a boot on the pile of wreckage. Whezl slides down to the mat, hand slamming into the mat.
Lord Colossus looks at Whezl who ceases counting, and call for the bell. Attempting to raise the arm of Lord Colossus proves as futile as facing him as he ignores his lackey and strides over the top rope and out of the ring to the back!
Randall Schwartz vs Harry Chest
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.
Moss: Alright folks we’ve got an interesting matchup coming up next!
Howley: You can say that again MOSS! It’s a super hero vs a super dork! I’m not even sure which is which.
Moss: Would you cut that out! Fans, this match wasn’t even originally scheduled for this evening, but Randall Schwartz made a mess of things recently for Harry Chest in a match at a non televised Classic Wrestling event last thursday!
At the song’s apex, Harry Chest walks out on stage sporting his flashy smile and signature heroically caped attire.
Howley: Say it how it is, He cost Chest his match. He came out and tried to impress a young lady at ringside, he pulled the leg of Chest as he came off the ropes, and distracted him.
Moss: Yea but after the match Chest got a little retribution!
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.
Howley: A cheap shot if you ask me!
Moss: That’s how we got to tonight.
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.
“March and Fanfare” plays, sending the crowd into a big chorus of jeers as Randall Schwartz makes his way to the ring, flanked by a pair of local security as he taunts the crowd, threatening to sue anyone who touches him before he approaches the ring.
Moss: And here comes a man who you never know what he’s going to do!
Randall gets in the ring and puffs both his tongue and chest out and mockingly walks around the ring. He then points and laughs at Harry Chest as the referee backs him into his corner to check him for any weapons.
Robbins: This match, One fall, Fifteen minute time limit! In this corner weighing 176 Lbs. From Hollywood, California, RANDALL SCHWARTZ!
The crowd boos out as he raises his arms. Quickly he shoots a look at the fans and leans over the ropes at them.
Robbins: His opponent, Weighing 245 Lbs. From Swan River, Manitoba, HARRY CHEST!
Now the fans stand up and cheer loudly! This once again makes Randall upset!
As the ring announcer leaves the ring, referee Kevin Clady calls for the bell.
Randall leans in towards the bigger Chest and points to his own chin.
Moss: Schwartz already trying to get under the skin of Harry Chest.
Harry pulls his arm back as if he’s going to swing and Schwartz almost falls over trying to move out of the way. The fans laugh as Chest puts his arm back down. The two finally lock up in the middle of the ring and Chest moves right into a side headlock using his strength. As he wrenches, Schwartz is able to fall backwards and roll up Harry right away, only for a one count as Harry rolls over but keeps the hold on.
Schwarts is able to stand up and then finally throws a couple of shots at the ribs of Chest and finally he loosens the hold. Sensing his opportunity, Randall pushes off and Harry runs off of the ropes. A big dropkick from Randall is enough to knock down Harry Chest. Randall gets up and flexes towards the crowd.
Moss: He’s wasting time showing off like that!
Howley: He’s wasting time flexing like that! Look at those arms, I think my niece has more muscle!
Moss: Schwartz now working, dropping a big elbow on the back of Harry Chest! Pretty high elevation there.
Randall gets back up quickly, waits for Harry to get to his knees before he runs back in and kicks Harry in the ribs. He’s able to hold Chest to the ground for a few moments with a series of attacks.
Howley: If Harry Chest can’t get to his feet he’s going to have a hard time using his weight and size advantage! This is good strategy!
Randall gets up and goes for a jumping knee to the back of Chest but he’s able to roll out of the way. The crowd seems to react to the sign of hope. Randall gets back up and runs off the ropes this time and goes for a jumping elbow drop. Rolling out of the way just in time Harry is able to recover as Randall is preoccupied with his now hurting elbow.
Both men get back up and Randall in a panic goes for a big clothesline but Chest ducks underneath. When the Hollywood resident spins back around he catches a kick to the gut and Chest follows it with a quick vertical suplex. The crowd really comes alive for Harry’s burst of offense!
Harry picks up Randall and sends him off the ropes, Ducking his head he’s able to launch Schwartz high into the air and back down to the mat.
Howley: Which ones supposed to fly Moss!?
Moss: Not that one!
Harry Chest goes for the cover and hooks the leg. With each count he bounces his head.
Kickout by Schwartz!
Harry gets up and moves to a corner. He waits for Randall to make his way up as well and takes off running!
Howley: Here he comes MOSS!
Schwartz is able to spin out of the way as Harry goes for a running neckbreaker. The superhero lands flat on his back.
Schwartz grabs the leg of Chest and locks him in a side leg lock. Kevin Clady moves in to ask Chest if he’s ready to quit. As he does, Randall exploits an opportunity by reaching for the bottom rope and pulling on it, increasing the pressure on the hold. Harry Chest writhes in more pain but when Clady looks over to Schwartz, he’s let go of the rope.
Howley: Referee didn’t see it, I didn’t do it!
Moss: Classic cheater mentality!
Howley: CHEATER!? When you’re in there fighting for your life and your health Moss, you gotta do what you gotta do to get the job done! It’s the old adage, work smarter not harder.
Randall gets away with doing the same thing a second time, but on the third attempt the official sees him pulling the rope and admonishes him. After he begins a five count, Randall lets go, releasing the hold.
He pulls Harry to his feet, albeit slowly on wobbly legs. Randall lines up his shot and sticks a right jab right in the face of Harry . It knocks him back and Schwartz moves in for a second shot. It lands flush. Now Randall, full of confidence, does a little dance before he goes for the big third punch. He reels back, spins his arms a few times…
Howley: Here’s the windup!
He swings for the fences but catches nothing but air as Chest ducks under the blow. THe momentum carries him a full 360 degrees. When he comes back Harry Chest is able to place his head under the jaw of Schwartz before jumping high into the air.
Moss: THE CHIN DIMPLER! He hit it!
Howley: Call it what you will, the jawbreaker will knock you silly Moss!
Randalls Jaw meets the top of the head of Chest as he lands on the mat. Scwartz goes flying. After standing up and posing with both hands on his hips. He rolls Schwartz up with both legs.
ARM ON THE ROPES!
Moss: This one is not over! Schwartz had the wherewithal to recognize where he was and get that rope break.
Howley: Don’t look now but our Superhero is a little flustered!
Harry kicks at the air in frustration. He goes to pull up Randall Schwartz but The Hollywood resident is able to cradle the head of Chest. He rolls him into a pin. Kevin Clady slides down to see Chest’s shoulders!
Moss: Kevin watch out! Schwartz has his feet on those turnbuckles!
Too little, too late. The bell is called for.
Robbins: Ladies and Gentlemen, your winner is RANDALL SCHWARTZ!
Randall gets up in the ring and slides out quickly! He’s got his arms raised and smiles like he just got one over on the Superhero. He points to his head as Harry looks after him in shock.
Moss: What a matchup there, but in the end Schwartz takes the easy way out.
Howley: Smart man Moss! Never thought I would say that about Schwartz!
Moss: It’s a big rebound win for Schwartz whos had some issues since being eliminated from the REAL World’s Championship tournament! Now he looks to get back on track after a big win here!
Howley: Harry Chest has some work to do Moss! That Chin Dimpler should have been all she wrote but no dice! You have to be aware of where you are in that ring at all times!
Moss: Tough loss here for Harry Chest, but speaking of the REAL Worlds Championship, our new champion is coming up next! We’ll be right back folks!
The Undercover Lover is Coming.
The camera opens on the black and white Rockwellian image of a mother in full June Cleaver flair, complete with apron and high heels, fussing and doting over her children at the bus stop in front of their house. She licks a hanky and wipes her son’s spiddle covered chin as her little girl looks down at his Mary Janes pouting. Suddenly, the placid voice of Todd Rundgren talking to his crew overlays this slice of americana on mute.
“Okay, (believe me) wait a minute, wait a minute”
The mother’s eyes light up with an inspired idea as she reaches into the back pocket of her daughter’s backpack and pulls what appears to be a picture out. She spends a minute staring at it, swooning and caressing it, before showing the picture to her daughter. The daughter hugs it tightly as her mother wipes away her tears.
“Gimme-just gimme…gimme…gimme a break for a second”
The bus pulls up. The doting mother gives each child a kiss on the cheek as she gently takes the picture from her daughter. She leads them up the bus steps with a pat on the butt each, and then waves them off as she pulls out a handkerchief and dabs at her eyes and fans herself with the picture.
“Two, three (four)…One, two, three…”
As the bus pulls away, it takes the drab two-tone color scheme with it. The mother, now in full color, peers down at an 8×10 of a burly looking wrestler who’s signed in silver paint marker “I’ll Be Home For Christmas, Babe”. The mother clutches it to her chest and looks around self-consciously as she fights back tears threatening to ruin her perfectly applied mascara as the music stings with an abrupt false start.
“Ah-one, ah-two, ah one, two, three”
A burnt orange t-top Thunderbird pulls in behind the bus as the opening instrumental of the Todd Rundgren classic “Hello It’s Me” comes blaring to life. The driver sits with his face away from the camera, his glorious permed mullet flapping in the breeze as pulls over to the curb in front of the wife. Her face immediately lights up as she tosses her husband’s 8×10 over her shoulder and rips her apron off. She leans over the passenger seat, giving the driver a peck on the cheek as her heels dangle behind her like a precocious school girl. The still obscured driver pushes the door open playfully, causing the wife to fall into the passenger seat with a playful giggle, fully kicking her heels off as she pulls herself inside and shuts the door just as the T-Bird flies off of the curb. As the car disappears on the horizon, sparkling words form on the screen in red cursive letters reading “The Undercover Lover Is Coming”
“Hello it’s me!”
cut to black
All Business is All Champion!
Otto Price is standing in front of his podium, a smile on his face.
Price: We’ve had a lot of great action tonight, and there’s still more to come. Right now I’d like to welcome the man who won the main event of SLAM-A-THON, Classic Wrestling’s Real World’s Champion, “All Business” Alex Bruder!
The studio lights dim, and a spotlight follows Alex Bruder as he passes through the curtains and ambles toward Otto Price to a chorus of boos. Dressed in his ring gear, the gorgeous golden Real World’s Championship is strapped around his waist. As he reaches the podium, the lights rise again, and the crowd starts to settle. Otto raises his microphone again…
Price: Alex Bruder…
..and is cut off as “All Business” removes the championship belt, hefting it high into the air with his right hand, letting the strap hang down along his arm. Enjoying himself, Bruder smiles crookedly as the audience in the stands starts booing again. He stands statuesque for a few moments, and then rests the Real World’s Championship on his right shoulder, before turning to face Otto.
Price: Alex Bruder, at SLAM-A-THON, you defeated Rush Starling to win the tournament and became Classic Wrestling’s first Real World’s Champion. It was an incredible accomplishment, but from the sounds of our fans, it seems like they were hoping for a different outcome. What are your thoughts?
Otto leans his long thin microphone towards Alex, who pauses thoughtfully before speaking in his normal deliberate fashion.
Bruder: Let me tell you something, Otto. People hate an honest man. And that’s what I am. From day one, I said I’d do whatever needed to be done to win the tournament and this Real World’s Championship. I’m sure every other man in the tournament told themselves the same thing, but only one of us was telling the truth. I fought one of the best mat wrestlers in the world, and I pinned him. But Metro, The Saint and Starling? I slapped each of them into the Cobra Clutch and turned their whole world dark.
True to Bruder’s statement, his honest, if incomplete, summation of recent events is met with more boos.
Price: Winning the Real World’s Championship is one thing, but you’ve got a target on your back now. Have you heard who your first challenger might be?
Alex shakes his head.
Bruder: I haven’t heard anything. I look back in that locker room, and I know that whoever my first defense is against, it won’t be easy. Back there, there are lumbering monsters, lightning quick grapplers, and everything in between. I know that. But when those same brutes, rock stars, time travellers, cowboys, superheroes and busses look out here, they see a man that in their secret hearts, they’re not quite sure they can beat. What I also know, Otto, is this: whoever my first challenger is…
Bruder narrows his eyes, leans toward the camera, and shifts his measured tone to a growl.
Bruder:…they won’t be my last challenger.
He stands straight again, and lets the crowd boo again, not reacting at all this time.
Price: Fighting words from our Real World’s Champion. Moss and Hawley, back to you!
Rikki Roxx vs Johnny Saint Nelson
“Personal Jesus” by Depeche Mode comes on and out strolls the self proclaimed Saint of Classic Wrestling.
Howley: Ok now we’re talking!
Robbins: Ladies and gentleme n it’s time for our MAIN EVENT! Hailing from right here in Cleveland, Ohio… JOHNNY SAINT NELSON
Moss: Johnny Saint Nelson has been on a tear in Classic Wrestling since he got here, advancing all the way to the semi finals of the REAL Worlds Championship tournament, and then defeating Double Decker at Slam-A-Thon!
Howley: He’s got to be on a shortlist of top contenders here in Classic for Alex Bruder’s championship!
He saunters out to the ring counting the sinners along the way. There are many more of them than you or I would think. JSN tells a couple to give Hail JSN’s tonight for their transgressions.
Robbins: And his opponent..
I WANNA ROCK! ROCK!
The fans get on their feet and dance along.
Rikki Roxx struts into the arena like only he can. Bandana wrapped around his head and long flowing blond hair behind him. He’s got the stiff upper lip going below his mirrored aviator sunglasses as he swaggers his way to the ring.
Moss: Easily a fan favorite here in Cleveland!
Howley: He’s not even the hometown guy!
Roxx provocatively enters through the ropes, looking above his aviators pushed down to the end of his nose and shooting the ladies a wink before going into the ring with metal horns high into the air.
Robbins: Coming to the ring from Detroit Rock City, this is RIKKI ROXX!
He parades around and poses for the crowd, soaking in the energy as he awaits.
The bell rings, and Roxx stands perfectly still, letting the religious zealot fire off a few verbal volleys without giving him the satisfaction of a response. Seconds pass, and the grinning Johnny Saint Nelson takes the center of the ring, calling Rikki forward, questioning his faith and as well as his manhood.
Eventually Rikki comes forward and reaches a hand in the sky.
Moss: The old test of strength!
Howley: He’s pretty confident, even for a rockstar!
JSN takes a look and shakes his head, moving back to his corner. He waves Rikki off. Fans in the studio react with loud jeers towards JSN. Rikki Roxx doesn’t take the chance to attack JSN from behind, instead waiting for him to turn back around. Rikki runs towards the corner where JSN is, but the Saint is able to stick his torso between the ropes, making the referee jump inbetween them and break it up. A frustrated Roxx readjusts his headband and moves back towards the middle of the ring. As soon as the referee moves, JSN now runs at Rikkis and with both arms above his head for an ax handle smash, but Roxx telegraphs it, turns around and sends a clothesline right into the gut of Johnny. The Saint flips over and land on his backside, surprised.
Moss: It’s like he had eyes in the back of his head Thunderbird!
Howley: Ring awareness 101, Always know where your opponent is, and keep them in your peripherals anytime you can’t look right at them!
Roxx is right back on his opponent, picking JSN up and sending him off the ropes. Nelson stops the rebound, by hooking his top arms over the top rope. As Rikki runs at JSN, he’s able to duck and lift the Rockstar up and over the top rope. Rikki slams down onto the concrete floor below. The fans boo at JSN as Rikki skids to stop right at their feet.
Moss: JSN now encouraging the referee to count as fast as he can, or he’s going to have to answer to a higher power!
Howley: I’m not sure that’s how that works.
Roxx is able to make it back in the ring at about the seven count but he’s obviously worse for wear after that concrete tumble. JSN wastes no time and attacks with stomps as soon as he slides into the ring. When Roxx tries to power up through the attack, the forearms start on the back from the Saint.
JSN grabs Roxx by the head and slams it into his knee. Roxx falls back onto the mat holding his nose with both hands. JSN meanwhile peels off an elbow pad before lining up the shot. He jumps high into the air and lands right onto the chest/neck area of Rikki Roxx with the point of that elbow.
Howley: That could crush his throat MOSS! Hard to breath with an elbow in your neck!
JSN moves and grabs hold of Roxx’s left boot, steps one leg over, then twists all the way around. He keeps the Spinning Toe Hold applied for a while, and Rikki grimaces in pain. The fans are trying to clap in unison and cheer on their hero!
RIK-KEE RIK-KEE RIK-KEE!
Howley: Another dreaded move here from JSN, he’s got a sound strategy here, trying to keep the quicker Roxx grounded and in pain.
Moss: All of that pressure on the calf, ankle, and knee of Rikki Roxx now!
As the fans get louder, and Roxx starts pounding on the mat with one hand trying to will himself out, JSN goes to twist around again to get a better grip. Rikki sees his chance, and puts one foot on the rear end of JSN and pushes him off. The Saint goes face first into a turnbuckle pad before staggering out of the corner backwards.
Moss: Uh Oh, JSN on spaghetti legs right now!
Howley: I’m not sure Roxx is doing much better on that leg either!
Both men find each other up and in the middle of the ring and begin to trade blows back and forth. Finally Roxx is able to duck one and when the momentum carries JSN around, he plants both of his feet into the chest of JSN knocking him to the ground.
Moss: Big move by Rikki Roxx with that dropkick but he’s holding his ankle right away!
Roxx gets back up, favoring his hurt ankle. He grabs JSN by the hair and calls for the end. Putting the rock symbol high into the air.
As JSN is being pulled up, he reaches his knees and instinctually brings his arm up in between the legs of Roxx!
Moss: OH LOW BLOW BY JSN AND…and…
Howley: And it has no effect!
Even the official jumps, thinking the move caught Roxx in the nether regions. Rikki meanwhile smiles down at JSN as The Saint holds his arm in pain. Rikki reaches into his pants and pulls out a steel athletic cup. He tosses it outside the ring.
Roxx: With as many groupies as I encounter, I always carry protection!
The referee just shrugs. Roxx picks up JSN and hooks him under his arm. He lifts, struggling at first and then willing himself the strength to do it.
Howley: LOVE ON THE ROXX!!
Moss: He hit the brainbuster!
Rikki kips up from the mat as the fans are in a fever pitch!
He falls ontop of JSN and goes for the cover!
The bell rings and Roxx rolls off of the Saint. The referee holds his hand up in the air in victory ss his theme song plays once again!
Moss: What a match and what a way to cap off another great episode of Classic Wrestling on RBTV!
Howley: Rikki Roxx gets a HUGE win here over Johnny Saint Nelson, surprising everyone in the building, even me MOSS! I won’t lie about it.
Moss: It is a big win and one that’s gotta make guys like Alex Bruder and Freddie Kilgore nervous! We’ve got some real contenders here in Classic Wrestling!
Inside the ring Rikki is celebrating in the corner. Standing on the second rope. On the other side of the ring JSN is in the face of the referee explaining he kicked out on time! No such luck as the official shakes his head.
Moss: Ladies and Gentlemen, that’s going to wrap it up for us here at Classic Wrestling this week, make sure to tune in next time when we see for the VERY FIRST TIME, the Premier American Champion, Freddy Kilgore, defending his Championship against Shujin Yama! As well as King Kong Frank vs Gordy Lovett, one on one!
Howley: I can’t wait, can we just do both matches right now!?
Moss: It’s going to be another CLASSIC night of Wrestling action! For Joel “Thunderbird” Howley! I’m Patrick Moss! Thanks for watching folks and have a great night!