Earlier Tonight
“Earlier Today”
It’s another hot afternoon in Cleveland.
Gruff Myers dabs at his wrinkled and scarred forehead with a hankey before folding it shoving it into his back pocket. He crosses muscular arms over broad chest and stands expectantly, in the heat of the afternoon, dead in the center of the parking lot behind the Classic Wrestling studios. Flanking him on either side are two good ol’ boys, each wearing a CLASSIC SECURITY t-shirt and the gaze of a man who’s ready, willing, and able to get or give a good ol’ fashioned passionate ass-whippin’ should the need arise.
Gruff: If this goes sideways, you boys are on Hazard Pay for the day.
There isn’t time for them to register the Commissioner’s sentiment before the parking lot begins to rumble. The two muscle-bros share a glance that’s interrupted by a rusted-out late-seventies model Ford Bronco swerving hard off of one road onto another before jerking almost sideways as it careens into the parking lot. The tires bark as they find purchase and the vehicle swerves back the other direction, squaring up to the trio of men standing like megaliths in front of it.
Gruff Myers doesn’t so much as flinch as the tires squeal and gravel flies and drum brakes strain to stop the otherwise out of control big-body Bronco. Once the smoke clears, the driver’s side door explodes outward and King Kong Frank unfolds himself from the driver’s seat and sets first one, then another bare foot down on the sweltering blacktop.
Frank’s bushy brows furrow as he speaks.
Frank: You boys look like y’all done seen a ghost.
He snorts, reaches into the back seat of the old Bronco, and pulls out a mason jar. He twists off the cap and takes a long pull of the hot corn whiskey.
Frank: Go on then, spit it out.
Gruff: It goes like this, Frank. I can’t have you an’ that Lord Colossus runnin’ ‘round here every week tryin’ to kill each other and causing more damage to the studio than a rabid squirrel trapped in an attic!
Frank: And so?
Gruff: And so these two gentlemen are going to accompany you inside the building, they’re gonna show you to yer private dressin’ room for the night, and they’re gonna stand outside the door and keep guard until you go out for your match to make sure that nobody goes in or out without my express permission!
The Amazin’ Appalachian’s face curls into disgust behind his bushy brows and wiry beard. Gruff was expecting this. He can feel his men tensing for a fight behind him and he says a silent prayer that Frank likes him just a little more than he dislikes Lord Colossus.
Frank: I ain’t no lady, Gruff, an’ I don’t need no protectin’!
Gruff: Oh, I ain’t tryin’ to protect you, Frankie my boy, Colossus either! I’m trying to protect the property of Classic Wrestling, the safety of the employees therein, and the integrity of this great sport that you an’ me both have been doin’ longer than anybody wants to count.
The Smoky Mountain Mastodon snorts again, considering.
After another tense moment, Frank acquiesces.
Frank: Fine. But iff’n I see one stitch’a that freak’s spiked underwear tonight, I’mma tan his doggone hide somethin’ fierce!
Gruff: You leave Lord Colossus to me.
The Big Burly Barefoot Brawler nods to Gruff and shoulders his way past the goon squad. The two of them both turn on a dime and catch up to him as quickly as possible.
Gruff: Hey Frank, one more thing!
Frank stops and looks back, a scowl already developing on his face. Before Gruff can catch up to him and say whatever else, the scene slow-fades into blackness before giving way to the Classic Wrestling logo…
Welcome To Classic Wrestling: Episode 7
“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!!!
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.
Price: Ladies and Gentlemen welcome back to another edition of Classic Wrestling TV right here on RBTV! I’m your Host Otto Price, and here shortly I’ll pass it over to my partners on commentary!
The shot moves over breifly to the duo of Patrick Moss and Joel “Thunderbird” Howley! We cut back to Otto.
Price: We’ve got an amazing line up of matches for you folks tonight, plus I can tell you that our REAL WORLDS CHAMPION, Alex Bruder is in the house!
The fans boo loudly, Otto pretends to be surprised.
Price: We all know Classic Wrestling has set the scene on fire, and tonight we have three new superstars trying to make a splash as they debut for Classic!
The fans cheer at the idea of new talent. This place never ceases to amaze!
Price: Of course don’t forget we’ve got an ENOURMOUS Main Event! Both figuratively and literally as “Feral” Freddy Kilgore puts his Premier American Championship on the line against Shujin Yama, in Classic Wrestling’s FIRST Title defense ever! Sit tight folks it’s going to be a great night!
The scene moves to the ring as Otto moves back to the backstage area.
Undercover Lover vs Double Decker
The people are clapping as we go to the ring and “Waiting on the Bus” by ZZ Top plays over the loudspeaker. He comes out and claps along with the others before belting out a loud….
“HOOOOOOOOOOOOONK!” The fans get even more excited as he climbs into the ring.
“Hello It’s Me” by Tod Rudgren hits the PA, cueing The Undercover Lover to come turning through the curtain with his satin ring robe untied and his arms opened wide.
He stops his spin, facing the camera and looks over all of the women in attendance, clutching his heart with surprise. He then stops, rubs his eyes, and waves them off to a chorus of boos.
He heads up the ring steps and up on to the apron and then shimmies out of his robe and hops over the top rope and into the ring.
Robbins: Ladies and Gentlemen this next match is scheduled for one fall, and has a 10 minute time limit. Already in the ring in this corner, Hailing from the Bus Station…. DOUBLE DECKER!
The fans cheer.
Robbins: And his opponent from “The City Of Love” New Orleans, Louisiana… This is The UNDERCOVER LOVER!
The referee is about to call for the bell but another theme song suddenly hits, confusing the two competitors.
“Train of Consequences” by Megadeath hits and out struts The REAL WORLDS CHAMPION!
He smiles at both of the guys in the ring, and heads over to the commentary table.
Moss: I guess we’re going to be joined by our REAL WORLDS CHAMPION!
Howley: ALRIGHT! Finally I get to talk to someone with class!
Moss: Hey! Wait a minute!
Bruder: Howley, good to see you. Moss, settle down a hair. I just figured with so many new men coming to Classic Wrestling, now would be as good a time as any to get a feel for one of them.
Inside the ring the two stare each other down as the bell rings. The Undercover Lover makes the first move and saunters out of his corner, before putting his hands on his head and swirling his hips around in the direction of Double Decker. The Big Bus looks out to the crowd confused, and the Lover points to Decker as if it’s his turn. Decker, unsure of himself, moves out of his corner and towards the center of the ring. He stops a few feet short and starts to do “The Cabbage Patch” dance.
The fans in the arena go ballistic. Undercover can’t believe it, he yells out to the crowd.
Undercover Lover: That’s not dancing! THIS IS DANCING!
The Lover moves closer to Double Decker and starts to do the “running man”. After he’s done the crowd boos him, much to his own chagrin. He points to Decker who’s turn is up next…
Howley: I thought these guys were supposed to be Wrestling, not dancing!?
Moss: Competition takes all forms there Thunderbird! I for one am curious as to what moves, the big rig has in him!
Bruder: Double Decker making a mistake. He’s got an advantage in size, not stamina. If he’s not careful, he’ll wear himself out before they lock up.
The Bus claps lightly, slightly impressed with the speed of the running man. The Bus then looks back out to the crowd.
Moss: YEA DO IT DOUBLE DECKER!
Double Decker starts dancing once again. This time he pretends to be strapping his seatbelt almost in disco form…. before transitioning to “turning the big wheel” The crowd stands up and starts clapping along which only gets Double Decker more excited. Finally, having had enough, The Undercover Lover attacks Double Decker from behind during one of his dance moves.
Moss: He just dropkicked Double Decker!
Howley: I’m sure our champion here wouldn’t have had that issue!
Bruder: Not much of a dancer, Thunderbird. The Undercover Lover set a great trap for the big man. The bus was too trusting.
The big man falls through the ropes to the outside of the ring, but lands on his feet. He shakes his head and goes to look back up into the ring. Instead what he sees is Undercover Lover flying through the air at him!
Howley: The Undercover Lover with a flying body press! I don’t care how big you are Moss, a human being basically being thrown at you is going to take you down!
Bruder: I’m not ashamed to say I skirt the rules where I can, but there’s not much getting around the law of gravity.
Both men crash into a heap on the outside of the ring. The official starts their count. It isn’t long before the Lover is up and trying to peel 400 plus pounds of flesh covered steel off the ground but to no avail. He slides back in the ring and waits.
Bruder: Not sure why he tried getting Double Decker up, or how he planned to do it without a hoist. Good thinking getting back in the ring, though. A win’s a win.
It quickly becomes clear that The Bus is going to make it back in before the count of 10. As he slides under the bottom rope, Lover wastes no time and immediately begins to stomp on the back of the Bus.
As Double D makes his way up to his feet through the attack Lover realizes he’s gotta hit something a little bigger, and runs off the ropes. He comes back with a big crossbody block but he’s trapped by Decker who catches him in mid air. Unable to control himself, Lover panics, but it’s too late.
Moss: DECKER FALLS FORWARD! LANDING ON THE UNDERCOVER LOVER IN THE PROCESS!
The big man gets right back up, and runs off the ropes himself and goes for a big running splash. Lover sees it coming, and we see the eyes behind the hearts go wide!
Howley: HE JUST GOT AWAY AT THE LAST SECOND MOSS!
The lover breathes heavy, his life having flashed before his eyes. He pulls himself up using the ropes and waits for Decker to do the same. Double Decker finally makes his way up as well and he gets a running Lover in his face right away. The jumping forearm strike knocks Decker back into the turnbuckle.
Moss: Who do you think is going to be your first challenger Alex?
Bruder: No earthly idea, Moss. I’d say anybody who lost in the tournament already had a crack at it, but it’s not up to me. Just know that whoever gets the nod for my first defense is going to regret not letting someone else go ahead of them, if you follow me.
Lover follows up right away and climbs to the second rope and starts punching down at the head of Double Decker. The referee begins his count, but it’s not long before Decker reaches up with both hands and grabs Lover around the neck.
Howley: Oh No!
Bruder: This is exactly what I was talking about. Double Decker has the strength and size that others dream of. I don’t see this ending well for The Undercover Lover.
He takes two steps out of the corner, holding Lover in the air the whole time. He does a half turn and launches the Undercover Lover into the turnbuckle where he lands back first. Lover holds onto the top rope so that he doesn’t fall to the mat, but that’s all Double Decker needs to see. He hits the other side of the ring and comes running back.
Howley: RUNAWAY BUS!
Moss: LAST STOP!
CRASH! Decker collides with Lover in the corner with the big running body splash! Lover crumples to the mat and Decker falls and covers him.
ONE
TWO
THREE!
The bell rings and “Waiting on the Bus” begins to play over the speakers. The fans cheer loudly! Double Decker makes his way to his feet and the referee raises one of his arms, almost falling over in the process.
Robbins: Your winner by pinfall! DOUBLE DECKER!
Moss: A big win for the big man!
Howley: Undercover Lover got squished Moss, but I for one hope to see him back here, he’s got a certain charisma to him!
Double Decker bounds out of the rings and starts high fiving fans in the front row, as well as those like Solex, who run down to ringside when the wrestlers come by.
Howley: Well Mr Bruder we really appreciate you taking the ti…
As he’s heading through the curtain we here another voice and another man come walking out.
Off Screen Voice: Hold on one second there champ!
The ZZ Top theme fades away and Vito Valentino comes waltzing out of the curtain. The fans get loud and excited! He’s looking right at Alex Bruder through his dark sunglasses. He moves towards the commentary team as Otto Price catches up to him with a microphone in hand. “All Business” grabs his title and stands up, ready for anything. Vito stops short of the desk and Otto holds a microphone up to him.
Valentino: Here we are, still early on in Classic Wrestling’s brief history. We’ve had great ratings, we had a HUGE pay per view at SLAM-A-THON! We’ve got fans everywhere!
Vito tilts his glasses down at Bruder.
Valentino: Well… I’ve got fans everywhere anyway!
The crowd laughs in response. Bruder is unamused.
Valentino: Classic Wrestling is blowing up everywhere! Jimmy Dale and the men and women that run this place, took a chance, kicked open the door, and built something pretty amazing here.
The fans cheer loudly in agreement.
Valentino: In fact, I’m inspired Alex! It’s inspired me to have the same mindset. Now I could sit back there, and wait for my matches, try to pick up as many wins as I can and hope that it earns me a shot at your championship… OR… I can do what Classic Wrestling did! I can kick open the door, come out here right now, look you in the eye, and tell you I WANT A SHOT AT THE REAL WORLDS CHAMPIONSHIP!
The fans explode at the prospect. The bleachers shake they’re so rowdy. Bruder folds his arms across his chest, half raising an eyebrow.
Valentino: What’s it going to be “All Business”? Are you going to fight me like a man?
Thunderbird now holds a mic up under the mouth of Alex Bruder. The champion looks down at his title, then back up at Vito slowly. He takes in a deep breath…holds the championship to his side, and walks right past Vito Valentino and never even looks at him.
Bruder heads through the curtain to a litany of boos from the crowd. Vito can’t believe he didn’t say anything. He shakes his head and says something inaudible to Otto as we fade to the next scene.
Holo Make vs Jack Fargo
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.
Harold Robbins: Introducing first, from Plainfield Illinois. Weighing in at Two Hundred Forty-five pounds. JACK FARGO!!!
The instrumental version of “Aloha ‘Oe” by Neverland in Ashes starts to play and The Death Rider himself, Holo Make, steps out onto the stage. He looks out at the crowd, eyes wide as if taking in the people around him. He stalks down to the ring, spooking some of the audience members who get too close. Otherwise, his eyes are focused on the ring with interest.
Harold Robbins: And his opponent from A Lost Island in the Pacific, standing six feet eight inches and weighing in at Three hundred seventy-four pounds. He is….. “The Pale Rider” HOLO MAKE!
Once he reaches ringside, Holo Make climbs onto the steps, crawling onto the apron and entering the ring. He looks to the nearest camera and grabs it. He brings it to his face, shouting “I ka mōʻī wahine ʻo Lili’uokalani” into it before shoving it back. Holo begins to pace around the ring, waiting impatiently.
The bell rings as Make cracks his neck as Fargo stares at the behemoth of a man standing before him. The two men take a few steps towards each other with Make going for a collar and elbow lock up, but Fargo quickly rolls out of the way. As Fargo gets to his feet he has to duck a lariat from Make. Fargo lets loose with a few body shots to the bigger man. Stunning him only momentarily. Make grabs an errant fist and wrenches down on it, taking Fargo down to a knee. Make reaches high with his free arm and brings it down on the open shoulder of Fargo, who yelps out in pain.
Moss: Fargo started off hot…
Howley: But was quickly taken down by the much bigger man. Serves him right.
Moss: What did he do to you?
Howley: Nothing…. Yet.
Make picks up Fargo by the hair and whips him into the corner. Almost as if he’s stalking him, Make follows behind. Grabbing Fargo by the chin and lifting his head to meet his. Make smiles and unleashes a huge back elbow to the side of Fargo’s head. Followed by two more. Fargo tries to slide down but Make stops him and pins him in the corner, and runs a knee into his abdomen. Make uses the back of Fargo’s head and pulls him to the middle of the ropes. He whips him and on the rebound lifts Fargo and slams him hard to the mat. Make stays on top of him for the pin as the ref slides in and checks both shoulders before counting.
1!
2!
Fargo gets a shoulder up in desperation.
Moss: A competitor like Jack Fargo isn’t going to give up that quickly.
Howley: Maybe he should, it’ll save him the embarrassment of getting dominated by a superior athlete like Holo Make!
Moss: Well it looks like Fargo has some fight left in him.
Male argues with the ref as Fargo drags himself to the corner. Make looks around confused and sees Fargo up in the corner. He rushes at him, but Fargo gets a boot up just in a nick of time. Make shakes his head and goes at him again. Right on cue Fargo gets a boot up again. Make stumbles backwards, but clears his vision again and once again rushes towards his opponent. Fargo waits for Make to put his head down and steps aside and drives Make into the corner post.
Moss: Fargo is far from done….
Howley: Cheater! He cheated!
Moss: He most certainly did not, and Fargo stays on the attack.
Fargo pulls the bigger man from the corner and tries to get him in the center of the ring. Make struggles but gets to his feet and catches Fargo at the last second going for a leaping clothesline and flattens him with a huge Samoan drop. Make thinks about going for the cover but decides against it. Make rubs his shoulder and rolls it a few times as he sets up in the opposite corner, waiting for Fargo to get to his feet. Fargo holding his chest gets to a knee.
Moss: Fargo doesn’t look like he’s in a good spot right now.
Howley: Told you he should’ve stayed home.
Moss: Holo Make looks like he’s gearing up for Aina I Ka Pono, his devastating driving headbut.
Make rushes at the groggy Fargo. Make leaps from his feet with his head aimed right towards Fargo.
Moss: It’ll be academic….
Howley: NOOOOOOO
Fargo at the last possible second rolls out of the way, as Make crashes hard on the ground. Not wanting to waste any time, Fargo climbs on Make’s back. Make tries valiantly to stop what is about to happen, but it’s too late.
Moss: PLAINFIELD PARALYZER!
Howley: And it’s locked in deep.
Fargo pulls back as hard as he can, Make flails for a few moments, but soon is motionless. As the ref checks Make and doesn’t get a response as he calls for the bell. Fargo releases the hold immediately and rolls off to the side of Holo Make.
Harold Robbins: The winner of this match by Technical Submission…. JACK FARGO!
Moss: Holo Make was game from the beginning, but Jack Fargo was just one step ahead.
Howley: The only time anyone has ever said that about Fargo.
The Day of Our Lord
The two guards Gruff Myers had assigned to guard the door of King Kong Frank have been quite fervently eschewed. At present, both men find themselves lying on the ground, one examining the grey concrete at face level, the other helpfully placed head-first into a garbage can. Jutting out of the can, the legs kick comically.
Walt Whezl, sporting a freshly painted mug of ghoulish black and white greasepaint along with his usual theatrical attire, cackles like a mad man as he stands over the two downed crew members. Looming over the entire scene is Lord Colossus, heaving through barrel chest and enough leather to put make him PETA Public Enemy #1!
Lord Colossus: NOW. You WILL witness the reaping of the-
The Embodiment of Evil interrupts the Master of the Void, taking his life into his own spindly little hands.
Whezl: MY LORD! Do not allow these most vile croakers with their uncharitable prophecies to hear your most terrible and awesome proclamations. Let the advent of the black omen shine down upon King Kong Frank this very night!
The door, which had also been barred, now has two meatbrick hands placed on either side of the frame. Behind the Malevolent Megalith, the diminutive Walt Whezl jumps up in down in glee, his arms flailing with excitement
Whezl: YES! YES! Let King Kong Frank be placed upon the ultimate altar of Tehom! Let him be swallowed whole by that VERY serpentine double helix of acidic Eden!!!
With a particularly strong pull, the entire door frame comes out of the wall! Complete with the bar over the door!
A plume of drywall, dust, and debris clouds everything, settling slowly. Lord Colossus’ hand reaches towards a shape in the doorway. Behind him, Whezl feigns bravery, his evil Umbrella ready to spray black mist.
There’s only one problem.
King Kong Frank is not in the doorway!
It’s GRUFF MEYERS!
Gruff: He ain’t here, big boy, I already sent him to the ring. Figured on you comin’ here an’ doin’ just what you did, an’ now you an’ that weasel manager of yours’re gonna pay for every stitch of wood and drywall you just ripped out of the wall there!
Walt Whezl steps in front of the calamity of black omens. His eyes burn like void fire.
Whezl: No no my Lord NO!!!
Myers ignores Walt, speaking directly to Colossus instead.
Gruff: Look here. I know you wanna get your hands on Frank, and I can promise you that Frank wants to get his hands on you! But you two big ijits ain’t gonna tear this studio down around yer heads in the process!
Lord Colossus snorts derisively.
Gruff: Now I’m gonna talk to the commission, and I’m gonna get a match sanctioned between you two that’s worthy of every ounce of hatred that y’all got for one another! I already told Frank an’ I’m tellin’ you now, if either one of ya lays so much as one finger on each other or anybody else outside of a sanctioned match between now an’ then, not only is that match not gonna happen, but I’ll put ALL’A yer asses on the Bread Line! Got it?
Walt’s voice approaches a Halfordian Apex.
Whezl: Do not think that this… This… CHARADE WILL STAND. MY LAWYERS WILL HEAR OF THIS FRAUD! DECEPTION! HUCKSTERISM! CRONYISM!
Before he can continue he is cut off with a yelp as the crushing hand of Lord Colossus forcibly redirects the agitated little man in a new direction. Colossus, however, spares another look at Gruff, he raises a single finger in his direction.
Lord Colossus: Thermonuclear Serpents constrict you into the void, WORM!
Lord Colossus thunders away with Whezl in tow, the search for King King Frank given up for the time being.
Vito Valentino vs Dewey Smarts
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 down 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.
Robbins: The following match is scheduled for one fall, with a 10 minute time limit. Coming to the ring first…. From Brooklyn, New York…. VITO VALENTINO!
With a fist in the air, he stops at the steps where the roar of the crowd washes over him like a warm blanket.
Moss: The man who stepped up to challenge the REAL Worlds Champion earlier tonight, but earned nothing but a scoff in reply….
Howley: Yea but I got a feeling that’s not going to stop Vito from continuing to try!
After pounding the steps three times for good luck, he quickly gets into the ring, ascends a turnbuckle, and raises another fist for the crowd. Climbing back down, he stretches his arms, shoulders.
“Oh Canada” begins to play over the arena sound system. A single laser cast the shape of the Canadian flag in the center of the ring.
Howley: This guy brings his own special effects?
The Dewster, walks out from behind the curtain to the reaction of the crowd, mostly negatively excluding those with Canadian sense. Dewy attempts to find any potential Canadians on his way towards the ring.
Robbins: And his opponent, Hailing from Calgary, Alberta, Canada! This is “The Dew” DEWEY SMARTS!
Pausing for selfie’s and kissing the baby Canadians. The Dewster covers his ears and spits degrading remarks towards any Un-Canadians.
The two wrestlers meet in the middle of the ring and lock up. Dewey Smarts quickly takes the arm of Vito and twists it over his head and wrenches on it. The ring veteran Vito Valentino backs him into the ropes and the referee tells them to break it up. As Vito backs away Smarts points to his head and mocks the italian superstar. For his troubles, Vito hits him with a fist to the mush that sends Dewey flying down to the mat. The fans go nuts but the referee is quick to remind Vito that he can’t throw closed fists!
Moss: He clocked Dewey there, maybe a little too much for Referee Kevin Clady’s liking!
Howley: What did he expect? Running his mouth like that! He’s lucky there’s witnesses at all!
Vito now boots Dewey in the gut as he stands up and sends him off the ropes. He goes to lift him for his signature back breaker but Dewey stops his progress by holding onto the ropes. Dewey now half steps out of the ring shaking his head.
Howley: He had it scouted Moss! Vito thought he might make quick work of the new guy but not so fast!
Moss: Yea but it looks like he’s seen a ghost! He knows what was waiting for him!
Vito goes to grab Dewey and pull him back in, but since he’s on the ropes, the official gets between them once more. Now frustrated, Valentino pushes towards him anyway. Dewey reaches over the referee and pokes Vito in the eye as he tries to attack, sending the cabby back away once more.
Dewey Smarts goes to the center of the ring and sends Vito off the ropes this time. He bends over, looking for the back body drop. Valentino knows that trick, and stops, grabs the head of Smarts, and sends him crashing to his back with a head whip.
Moss: Turnabout is fair play Thunderbird!
Howley: It’s a wrestling match of course it is!
Moss: Well don’t look now but Vito got him right where he wants him! Everytime Dewey gets back up, he’s catching strikes from Valentino! Left! Right! And the fans are eating this up!
Dewey goes down and quickly Vito goes for the legs, looking for the Metro Avenue Deathlock. Smarts panics and is able to escape, he rolls out of the ring to collect himself. As he walks, Vito slides out behind him. Dewey seems him and a chase ensues around the ring. Dewey slides in, and Vito after him. Smarts quickly jumps on the back of Vito and starts dropping elbows and knees driving him down to the canvas. Then Dewey grabs the top rope and uses it for leverage as he stomps repeatedly. Vito rolls away from the stomps towards the middle of the ring. Seeing his opportunity, Dewey Smarts bounces off the ropes. He jumps!
Moss: The Dew Drop!
Howley: HE MISSED! He missed the leg drop!
Vito gets up quickly, as Dewey holds his back, still in a seated position. Vito grabs the legs of Smarts and pulls on them before stepping through. He turns over and locks in his hold.
Moss: THERE IT IS! The Metro Avenue Deathlock is dialed in!
Kevin Clady slides over to Dewey who’s already screaming. It isn’t long before he quits to the referee by nodding his head up and down, screaming yes to his inquiries.
Vito lets go of the hold as soon as he hears the bell and raises his arms up in the air in victory!
Robbins: Ladies and Gentlemen, your winner by Submission, VITO VALENTINO~!
Vito walks over to where Dewey Smarts is, he’s sitting up at this point. THe official tries to keep them a safe distance apart at first. Then Vito reaches down with a hand to help Dewey up.
Dewey looks at his hand, and then the crowd. They cheer them on. Smarts has other ideas. He smacks the hand away and rolls out of the ring underneath the bottom rope. Limping a little he makes his way to the back.
“Life in the Fastlane” Hits on the PA system and Vito celebrates in the ring anyway.
Moss: There you have it folks, the man who challenged our REAL Worlds Champion earlier tonight. Picks up a win against a great new talent to Classic Wrestling.
Howley: You’re right Moss, Dewey might have the Smarts, but he’s going to need more than that to put away Vito Valentino!
Moss: Wait what’s this?
Sliding into the ring behind Vito is Alex Bruder. He has the REAL Worlds Championship in his hands and as Vito turns around to celebrate, Alex Bruder plants the championship right between the eyes of Valentino. He hits the mat hard, holding his head immediately.
Howley: The Champion just leveled the competition Moss!
Moss: Bruder hit him right in the face! He could need reconstructive surgery after that!
Bruder stands up and holds the championship up high before leaving the ring and headed for the back.
Entanglement
Well this is a sight.
We’re backstage, surprised the walls aren’t shaking, as we watch ‘Beautiful’ Bobby Dean charging down the hall. That’s right; charging. As in, a form of running. It’s at least as close to running as Bobby can get. On the other end of the hall we see a petrified Classic staffer, likely an intern from his perceived age, holding a large box that appears to be a donut flat.
Staff Intern: Oh god, not again! Bob sir, please remember these are for all the talen-
BBD: OUT OF MY WAY, YOU MONSTER!
Just as Dean reaches, mid stride, to push the scared youngster to the side, he stops. The intern sighs, rolling his eyes, and lifts the cover revealing a smorgasbord of delicious donuts. Bob grabs a Boston creme and bites off a piece like it owed him money.
BBD: Man, that’s the stuff. Gotta love donuts. Always there for me… WAIT! Dang you, evil temptress, I have a mission!
He spikes the rest of the donut like he just scored a touchdown and gets back to his version of running. That is, until he reaches a door labeled ‘Foreign Legion’. Dean straights himself off, brushes the crumbs caught on the top of his large belly, and with a mighty yell he steps forward and gives off a massive This Is Sparta kick.
The door bursts open, collides with the wall and rebounds back just as quickly, slamming right in Bobby’s face. The big man takes a moment to look around, as if wondering to himself “did anyone see that?” Scowling, Bobby carefully steps back up to the door and offers up a surprisingly soft knock.
Without waiting for a response he turns the knob and slowly opens the door, and sheepishly steps into the lion’s den.
Almost as surprised to see Bobby as we were to see him running, Leon Van Zandt and Mushigihara quickly jump to their feet, prepared for a scrap. The two men take a step forward, but jerk to a stop as Dean points at the two men in front of him menacingly. Breathing heavily, the interloper opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. His pointed finger quickly turns up, requesting a second to allow him to catch his breath. I don’t know if you’re aware but Sparta kicking doors takes a lot out of you! He quickly folds over, with both hands on his knees trying to keep his large frame up as he continues to catch his breath. Leon and Mushigihara both turn to their manager and shrug simultaneously. Eddie Dante arises from his seat and casually pushes past his two clients as he steps forward to confront Bobby.
Dante: Where are those precious belts of yours, “champ”?
Finally stable, Dean straightens out and smiles.
BBD: Left them with my very good friend, maybe you’ve heard of him? Lunchbox Larry? That’s where they are, but you don’t need to worry about them, because this little meeting isn’t about them, or him! This is about me… and you, and YOU!
Bobby points his finger towards Mushi, then towards Leon.
BBD: That’s right! I want the Foreign Legion. Episode eight, next week! You got the guts to take on the most most beautiful wrestler Classic Wrestling has ever and will ever see? Huh? Well do ya, punks?!
Eddie Dante, at first taken aback by… pretty much everything that was just said… suddenly a smile of pure evil joy slowly forms. He looks over his right shoulder at Leon, then over his left at Mushigihara before returning his focus on the rotund wrestler in front of him.
Dante: Deal. I’ll make sure it happens right away… champ.
Bobby sighs in relief while wiping his forehead from the beads of sweat. A triumph smile on his face, he casually leans against the door jam as if the threat has now disappeared.
BBD: YES! Man, that was waaaaay easier than I thought it’d be. So, which one of you beasts wants to step in the ring with the Beauty?
Before either of the two members of Foreign Legion can answer, their manager slowly shakes his head and pointer finger simultaneously.
Dante: No, no, no, Mr. Dean. You need to learn, you must be more careful in what you ask for! You see, you said you wanted Foreign Legion. And the Foreign Legion is what you’ll get! Episode eight, Bobby Dean versus Leon Van Zant AND Mushigihara… in a 2-on-1 handicap match!
Bob’s relieved smile disappears in a flash as he immediately pushes himself off the door jamb. His eyes nearly pop out of their sockets. His face flushes red. He starts to nod nervously as he slowly backsteps his way through the door he barged into.
BBD: Yeah… good… that’s good… that’s exactly what I meant, anyway… I gotta go now. Larry’s probably worried, ya know? And those donuts… they won’t just eat themselves. Heh…
Dean bolts as soon as he’s out the door and the scene fades at the sight of Eddie Dante’s sinister smile and Foreign Legion cracking their knuckles while nodding their heads.
Carlos Ruiz vs Scott Hunter
“Bombeleo” by the Gypsy Kings plays and the fans begind to cheer. Soon Carlos Ruiz comes through the curtain, sunglasses and all.
Robbins: Coming to the ring first from Madrid, Spain…. This is CARLOS RUIZ!
Moss: Of course, Carlos is undefeated in singles competition!
Howley: He won’t let you forget it either!
Carlos swivels his hips as he gets in the ring. A smile from ear to ear, he claps back towards the fans, thanking them for the warm welcome.
“Burning Heart” by Survivor plays and Scott Hunter comes through the curtain. The fans welcome him warmly as he pays them no mind this time.
He slides into the ring.
Robbins: And his opponent, hailing from Miami, Florida… This is SCOTT HUNTER!
He starts sneaking up behind Carlos, but Ruiz catches him. When Carlos asks him about it, Hunter feigns innocence, saying he just wanted to shake his hand. The official moves both back to their corners.
As soon as the bell rings both men waste no time running at each other. Ruiz sidesteps Hunter and shoved him into the ropes. On the rebound Ruiz drops down as Hunter leaps over him, but keeps running the ropes. As he gets back to Ruiz, Carlos leaps over him. Hunter keeps running the ropes. As Hunter gets closer Ruiz drops to a knee and swipes the back of Hunter’s leg and goes for a quick pin, the ref didn’t even have a chance to count before Hunter powered out and got to his feet. Ruiz claps at Hunter, and before Hunter could clap as well Ruiz runs at him. Hunter shoves Ruiz into the ropes and as he comes back lifts him in the air and atomic drops him. Ruiz grabs his groin and turns right into a clothesline from Hunter.
Moss: That’s a classic combo right there.
Howley: I see what you did there.
Moss: What?
Howley: Classic…..
Moss: Honest mistake.
Hunter picks Ruiz up and body slams him to the mat and runs to the ropes and drops a huge fist to the top of Ruiz’s head. Then quickly locks in a side headlock. Ruiz kicks his legs against the mat. Hunter pulls back, really cranking on the neck of Ruiz. With an unintentional thumb to the eye Hunter breaks the hold.
Howley: DQ HIM!
Moss: It was clearly unintentional.
Howley: Oh if the tables were turned you’d be calling for that man’s family!
Moss: Look Ruiz is apologizing.
Hunter is holding his eye as Ruiz crawls over to check on him. Both men help each other to their feet. With a quick shake of each other’s hands they get back into the action. Ruiz kicks the gut of Hunter and grabs the back of his head and drives it to the mat. Ruiz climbs to the middle rope and leaps off, Hunter gets a foot up, knocking Ruiz silly. Hunter rises to his feet as Ruiz shakes the cobwebs out and goes for Spanish Eyes but Hunter catches his foot.
Moss: A little early for that.
Hunter kicks the back leg out from under him while holding onto the foot. He begins to walk through for the Figure Four but Ruiz plants a foot on his ass and knocks Hunter off of him. Both men get to their feet and with a quick nod they are back off to the races.
Moss: Neither man was able to get their shot off, but not for a lack of effort.
Ruiz ducks a clothesline attempt, but Hunter swats away a drop kick attempt himself. The two men exchange blows in the middle of the ring. Hunter takes the upper hand, and goes for a swinging neck breaker, but Ruiz rolls out of it. Ruiz then goes for a suplex but Hunter slides out down Ruiz’s back.
Moss: Both men are a step ahead of the other.
Howley: Doesn’t that mean they are at the same spot?
Moss: Hence the stalemate.
Both men are gasping for air, as they’ve been running around trying to catch the other. Hunter lands a big blow to Ruiz, and is answered right back with a kick of his own. Hunter tries for a running lariat, but Ruiz matrix’s his way out of it. And as soon as Hunter turns around.
SPANISH
EYES!
The super kick lands clean as Hunter crumbles to the mat. Ruiz falls on top of him as the Ref slides in.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Harold Robbins: The Winner of this match by way of Pinfall…. CARLOS RUIZ!!!!!
Carlos gets to his feet first and bends down and helps Hunter up to his feet. Hunter raises Ruiz’s hand as the crowd cheers both men. After a few seconds he turns and clotheslines Carlos to the ground. The fans right away get angry with Scott Hunter. “Bombeleo” plays in the background but the wrong man walks out with his arms in the air.
Moss: Scott Hunter a bit of a sore loser here!
Howley: Never trust anybody ever, for any reason, at any time. Ever.
King Kong Frank vs Gordy Lovett
As advertised, King Kong Frank is front and center inside the Classic Wrestling ring. He plods around the squared circle, swingin’ his chain overhead and hollering unintelligibly for the referee to get this shindig started.
Frank: HUSS! HUSS!! HUSS!!!
Howley: Ya gotta love Frank, am I right?
The Classic fans in attendance certainly do, “hussing” right along with the Smoky Mountain Mastodon as he marches around the ring, feeding off of the frenzy of the crowd.
#A Country Boy Can Survive#
Moss: All I can say for sure is that it’s about to get a lot beefier in here!
Gordy Lovett erupts out from the backstage area, his eyes wild and his mustache bushy! He’s wearing a cut-off tank top with the sleek Hilton Promotions logo plastered across the front in bright colors and bold lettering.
Howley: Yeah, well, if there’s anybody that I like more than that big Hillbilly in the ring right now it’s Doris Hilton! That’s my kind of lady right there!
Doris isn’t two steps behind Gordy, clapping in approval and smirking a shark’s knowing grin. Inside the ring, Frank tosses the chain at the referee, who deftly avoids being knocked all the way out as the Barefoot Brawler turns his full attention on the Texas Stampede!
Gordy: HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!
Frank: COME ON BIG’UN! GIT YOU SOME!
Hank Jr. caterwauls in the background as Gordy literally stampedes the ring, charging in to answer Frank’s challenge with no motivation needed from Doris Hilton. He sheds the half-tank and dives under the bottom rope, rolling to his feet quicker than you’d expect out of a man Gordy’s size.
Moss: These two big bulls are going nose to nose, forehead to forehead right here in front of us Thunderbird, I can’t believe it hasn’t broken down yet!
Kevin Clady calls for the bell.
DING! DING!! DING!!!
The two former friends get to it immediately, a flurry of haymakers coming from both of them as Doris looks on from ringside impressed at the sheer fury of the beef-slappin’ happening ten feet in front of her.
Howley: Are ya sure, Moss? Looks like neither of these big boys is tryin’ to get paid by the hour here tonight! Look at ‘em, they’re still going!
And they are! And good ol’ Hank Jr. is still serenading the studio on the various manners in which a lad from the sticks can make his way in the world as both Frank and Gordy continue to pummel away at each other. Turns out the song makes a decent soundtrack to a butt-whippin’ if you’re picking up what I’m laying down.
Moss: Which one of these guys are gonna run out of gas first, T-bird?
Howley: Don’t look at me, Moss, I’m getting a charlie horse just watchin’ these two go to town on each other!
The song plays on, the studio audience nearly drowns it out with a mixed cacophony of yays and boos as these two behemoths throw bomb after bomb at one another. Neither man gives an inch of ground or leverage as they struggle to be the one to take the first advantage and hopefully capitalize early and often and put this one away before any real damage can be done.
The slugfest continues and both men begin to visibly start gassing at right about the same time. Gordy takes a step back and shouts in a rage of fighting spirit as he rushes forward and tries to take Frank’s head off with a lariat. Frank ducks it like a champ and comes back up with a quick jab right between Gordy’s eyes!
Moss: His eyes have gone crossed!
Howley: What else is new?
Gordy swipes wild and Frank easily avoids that one too. He peppers Gordy with two more quick jabs and a toothy cackle. Gordy shakes the cobwebs out the best he can and rushes in once more, abandoning all pretense of strategy and allowing for Frank to sidestep and use Gordy’s own momentum to turn the big Texan around and surprise him with an Inverted Atomic Drop!
Moss: That one might’ve been a little low!
Howley: Might’ve? Are we watchin’ the same match, Moss?
Gordy crumples inward, keeping his feet by some strange stroke of luck but prancing around in obvious pain as his goods and services have been forcefully inserted somewhere into his lower abdomen. Frank gives another shout and flattens Gordy with a big bare foot to the face!
Frank: HUSS! HUSS!!
Maniac that he is, Frank jumps out of the ring and begins marching around the ringside area, hooting and hollering and causing an all-around ruckus while Gordy sucks wind inside the ring and tries to regain his faculties after that last flurry from Frank. Kevin Clady starts an uninspired count as Frank marches back around ringside and finds Otto Price at his podium and stops to give the Classic Wrestling host a good old-fashioned knuckle-noogie!
Moss: You know, if King Kong Frank could ever get focused, he’d be a major threat to Alex Bruder and the Real Worlds Championship!
Howley: A focused Frank is a dangerous Frank, Moss. Trust me, I’ve seen it, and you don’t want to be anywhere around if and when that man gets focused!
Doris Hilton jumps in front of the Appalachian Nightmare and jabs a finger in his burly chest. She reads him the riot act from top to bottom, doing her level best to buy Gordy some time to get it together before Frank does any more damage! Eventually, the referee gets near on to nine and the lightbulb goes off above Frank’s head before he dives under the bottom rope and hops up to his bare feet.
Frank stalks over to Gordy but of course it’s a trap! The Cowpuncher manages to position himself just so that he could obfuscate a stiff uppercut low blow that buckles Frank and allows Gordy to take the advantage! Doris is pleased as punch on the outside. Gordy goes on the offensive first with a clubbing double-axehandle to the back and shoulders followed by a running hip-check that chatters a few of Frank’s teeth. The Hillbilly Hero tries to shake it off but Gordy takes a three-point stance and charges at Frank like a blitzing d-lineman, flattening him with a gruesome shoulder tackle before throwing the Horns and hooting to the jeering fans.
Moss: The Texas Stampede means business here tonight!
Gordy presses the attack, using his size and power and general rowdy nature to give as much to Frank as Frank gave to him! After several bouts of stomps interwoven with a continuing stream of curses Gordy finally takes a reverse chinlock and settles into his attempt at wrenching Frank’s head clear off of his shoulders.
Howley: He’s gonna open him up like a can of tuna, Moss!
Lovett cranks back on the hold before adjusting his grip and adding in a nasty fish hook for good measure.
Frank: GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!
Gordy: HEH! HEH! HWAT YOU GON’ DO NOW BWOAH?
The referee chastises Gordy, demanding that he let go of the illegal hold!
One…
Two…
Three…
Four…
Gordy: OOOOOOOOOOOOOW! HE BIT ME!
Howley: HA! FRANK BIT HIM!
Moss: It would appear that he’s still biting him!
Somewhat frustrated, Referee Kevin Clady begins his count again, this time demanding that Frank release the vice grip on Gordy’s fingers.
One…
Two…
Three…
Four…
Frank lets go, Gordy howls in pain and holds out his mangled and throbbing fingers looking for sympathy from anywhere and getting absolutely none. Both men scramble to their feet and they go forehead to forehead in the center of the ring one more time. The jaw-jacking intensifies as each man insults the other. This ends when Frank takes the strap of his overalls down and exposes his bare chest. The gathered fans go bonkers and Frank dares Gordy to take a shot.
FTHWAAAAACK!
A fierce knife-edge chop quiets the crowd and leaves an immediate hand-shape welt across the chest of the Hellbilly Deluxe!
Howley: Uh-oh, here we go!
KERRAACK!
Frank responds by caving Gordy’s head in with a straight headbutt that leaves absolutely no room for interpretation!
Moss: Is that what you call a “meeting of the minds?”
Howley: That might be a stretch, Moss.
Doris Hilton jumps up on the apron, Kevin Clady gets in her face and pleads with her to take her place back on the floor. This tactic is a mistake, and she goes all-in on him and his idea of where “a woman’s place” should be. Every married man in the audience knew where this one was going well before it ever got there…
Moss: Hey! Is Gordy going into his tights?
Doris’ distraction is everything Gordy needs to play his ace in the hole!
Howley: He sure is! Looks like he’s got himself some kind of brass knuckles!
Gordy loads up and swings for the fences! He connects, but it’s almost as if Frank leaned into it and met his punch with a headbutt! The wound on his head from SLAM-A-THON reopens and a trickle of blood drips down his face and into his beard. He absorbs the blow and a big, goofy, hillbilly grin spreads wide on his face as he reaches out and grabs Gordy by the neck.
Moss: This ain’t good for Gordy!
Frank muscles GLovett up with one arm and unleashes a Smoky Mountain Spike to the Cowpuncher’s carotid artery that causes him to choke, spasm, and land hard on his back on the mat! Doris gets even more animated and Clady gives her the ol’ “YER OUTTA HERE!” before turning his attention back to the action at hand.
Howley: HE GOT HIM, MOSS! IT’S OVER!
Frank leaps onto Gordy and pulls back hard on both legs, putting as much weight and leverage over Gordy’s head and shoulders as possible. Clady dives into position…
ONE!
TWO!!
THREE!!
DING! DING! DING!
Robbins: Your winner by pinfall… KING KOOOONG FRAAAAAAAAANK!!!
#Stranglehold#
Frank rolls off of Gordy and takes his feet, Kevin Clady raises his hand victoriously as Lovett rolls out of the ring directly into a cold glare from Doris Hilton.
Moss: King Kong Frank picks up another impressive win tonight!
Howley: Ya gotta reckon this thing with Gordy ain’t over.
Moss: I’d agree with that. ANYWAY, we’re gonna step away for promotional consideration, but we’ll be back in ninety seconds with tonight’s MAIN EVENT!
Premier American Championship: Shujin Yama vs Freddie Kilgore
Moss: Alright everyone a very special matchup is coming up next, and quite frankly Thunderbird, it’s our first Title Defense in Classic Wrestling history!
Howley: Nothing like a high stakes match to get the blood flowing MOSS! I don’t know what our champion was thinking to be honest! Why’d he accept this match?
Moss: Freddy Kilgore wants to prove he’s a fighting champion, and he bows to no man!
Howley: Well what about a guy the size of two or three men!? Because Shujin Yama is no normal man.
The Japanese National anthem begins playing as Sensei Abe Lincoln steps out onto the stage waving a Japanese flag.
Moss: Here we go!
Shujin Yama follows behind, in a sparkly white robe bedazzled in red diamantes. They march down to the ring, Yama paying no attention to the crowd while Sensei Lincoln laughs and taunts them.
Robbins: Ladies and Gentlemen, this next match is our MAIN EVENT of the evening, and is for the PREMIER AMERICAN CHAMPIONSHIP!
The fans cheer in excitement, but quickly go back to booing the large man walking to the ring.
Arriving, 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.
Robbins: Coming to the ring first, From the Greatest Nation on Earth, Weighing 469 Lbs…. SHUJIN YAMAA!
The boos come furiously until the music changes over.
“Wildside” by Motley Crue hits the PA system and within no time at all Freddy Kilgore bursts through the curtain with the PAC around his waist. He’s running full speed and heads right for Otto Price and his podium. Otto ducks as Kilgore does three quick laps around him pumping his fists the whole time. Wild Kat is out here but she just slowly makes her way to the ring smiling.
He runs past the crowd and finally dives into the ring where Shujin Yama backs up into his corner, not knowing what to expect from the full speed Papa Wild Thing!
Robbins: And his opponent… He is the reigning AND DEFENDING Premier American Champion… Hailing from The Wildside! Weighing 282 Lbs…. This is “FERAL” FREDDY KILGORE!
Papa Wild Thing stands on the second turnbuckle and pumps his fist along with the crowd as his music fades out. He unclasps the championship and hands it to referee Filipe Chicoda. Filipe holds the championship up to both men to signify this is a title match!
As Freddy stretches out he moves towards his respective corner. Outside however Sensei Abe Lincoln has him distracted by yelling at him. Kilgore yells back as the bell rings and it’s enough for Yama to take advantage. He ambles over and drops some crushing forearms across the back of Kilgore. Kilgore down to a knee and then hangs on the ropes as Yama drops another one across the back of his neck.
Howley: Kilgore getting distracted by Lincoln there, Why doesn’t his Valet get involved and knock out that old sensei!
Moss: I don’t know if she’s trained for combat…
Kilgore moves to towards the center of the ropes to try to get away from Yama but it’s not enough. As he turns Yama reels back and plans a big right hand under his chin. The larger wrestler irish whips Freddy Kilgore across the ring, and then drills him with a hard clothesline.
Howley: He’s not so wild now is he!?
Moss: I don’t think that’s funny!
Kilgore gets back up and Yama sends him off the ropes once again. This time Freddy is able to duck the clothesline attempt and keep running. He bounces back with a huge double ax handle smash against Yamas head. Kilgore wastes no time as he runs again and comes back with another ax handle smash. Yama shakes his head, dazed a bit but still on his feet. Kilgore thinks one more will do it and hits the ropes again… But Yama throws a back elbow as Kilgore comes moving in quickly that connects. Kilgore goes down.
Moss: What do you do in a match like this Thunderbird? When you’re opponent is that much bigger than you!?
Howley: First thing you do is keep your trap shut, and you don’t end up in matches like this, but if you do… you gotta be quick, you gotta know that you’ll need four or five strikes to match even one of theirs. You have to be well conditioned and know what your strengths are. We’ll see if Kilgore has all that and more!
Yama lines him up and goes for a huge elbow drop but Papa Wild Thing rolls out of the way as the huge body of Shujin crashes to the mat.
Moss: He just missed that elbow!
Howley: That would have been it for sure! Splat! New champion!
Moss: Not so fast Thunderbird!
Yama slowly climbs to his feet as Kilgore gets a rush of adrenaline. Freddy moves to the ring apron and climbs up to the top rope.
Moss: That’s 6 Feet 6 inches, 284 lbs up there on the top rope, this is not a luchador folks!
Yama moves to his feet and Freddy leaps as high as he can. He comes off sideways and lands flush against the chest of Shujin Yama and takes him down.
Moss: What a crossbody block by Freddy Kilgore! He gets it! He’s going for the cover…
ONE…
TWO….
Shujin Yama bench presses Kilgore up and off of him in an impressive display of strength. Much to the relief of Sensei Abe Lincoln. On the other side of the ring Wild Kat claps for her man. Freddy looks to Filipe Chicoda who tells him it was only two.
Kilgore pumps his arms up and down, trying to get is blood pumping for what he’s going to try next. He stands up and flexes and the crowd comes alive. Yama is slowly getting back up to his feet and as he turns around, Kilgore leans in and tries to lift him up for a body slam…
Howley: No freaking way!
Kilgore lifts with all he has but only one of Yama’s feet even leaves the mat, and it’s by a couple of inches. Yama realizes what’s happening and he quickly drops a clubbing forearm once again onto the back of the neck of Kilgore. This kills the attempt.
Moss: He tried body slamming the big man but to no avail! He couldn’t get him up.
Howley: And that’s coming from a guy who’s already a big fella! I’m not sure if anyone in Classic Wrestling could get Yama up for that move!
Moss: You don’t know unless you try!
Yama now does the same thing to Freddy, He scoops him and slams him down on the mat with authority. He now looks over to Abe Lincoln who tells him to “put the Wild Thing Away right now!”
Yama shakes his head and pulls Kilgore back up to his feet. He once again scoops up Kilgore for a body slam, but this time Kilgore slides down the back of Yama and lands on his feet. He claps real loud one time as Yama turns and once more Kilgore goes for his big body slam!
Once again he can’t lift the big man.
This time Yama doesn’t use his forearm, This time he uses his head! Literally!
Moss: What a headbutt! That sends Kilgore down to the ground! What’s Yama got plann…. Oh no!
Howley: OH YES! We’re going to see it Moss! The Pancake Maker!
Yama pulls Kilgore over and ascends to the second rope. After a quick bounce, he SLAMS DOWN on the chest of Kilgore with his backside.
Moss: Bonzai Drop! He got all of it… We could very well have a new…
Yama doesn’t move, just folds his arms. Felipe slides into position.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
The bell rings and the fans are in stunned silence. Yama rolls off of Kilgore and makes his way back to his feet.
Moss: IN OUR VERY FIRST TITLE DEFENSE IN CLASSIC WRESTLING, WE HAVE A NEW CHAMPION!
Ring announcer Harold Robbins starts to get in the ring but is quickly cut off… From outside the ring, “Wild” Kat has just a second to yell out “WATCH OUT!” before…
Near-500 pounds of Shujin Yama just BARRELS into Kilgore, knocking him ass-over-teakettle backwards into the ring. Yama has the look on his face of an absolute beast and he glances outside to Sensei Lincoln, who nods while his face contorts into something that sort of resembles a grin. Yama snorts and cracks his neck as he sets his eyes back on Kilgore, crawling along the ground. Slow, primal grunts grow louder and more frequent. With a final cry of rage, he leaps into action once more. Bouncing off the ropes, Yama gathers up a big head of steam before leaping into the air and CRASHING down on Freddy Kilgore with all of his weight!!
Moss: Yama takes Kilgore down and flattens him!
Howley: That’s damn near five hundred pounds!
Yama is back up while Kilgore holds his sides in pain on the canvas. Shujin places a single foot on Kilgore’s chest, pressing down with his weight and holding his arms high to the legions of booing fans. Abe Lincoln climbs into the ring to clap and applaud for his monster’s destruction. Yama looks to the outside, where Kat is damn near in tears and calling for her man to get up. Lincoln and Yama again lock eyes, and this time Lincoln makes the “cut throat” gesture toward his monster, prompting another round of boos.
Moss: I don’t know what Abe Lincoln has in mind here, but this isn’t good!
Howley: Moss, look – Shujin is gearing to try and end Kilgore’s career!
Shujin Yama again runs off the ropes to get momentum, but this time when he reaches Kilgore he leaps as high as he can into the air and crashes down on Freddy Kilgore in a seated position! Kilgore immediately begins to convulse and cry out in agony.
Wild Kat has covered her eyes with her hands and a hushed silence begins to fall over the crowd when they see what rough shape their hero is in.
Moss: This isn’t right! The contest is over!
Howley: Papa Wild Thing is not getting up from this. Maybe ever.
Shujiin again gets back to his feet, this time looking down at the shell of what once was the proud “Feral” Freddy Kilgore. Abe Lincoln begins to try to pull him away as a horde of Classic officials begin to rush toward the ring. Shujin is still staring holes through the fallen Kilgore as the ring fills with referees who bravely stand in between Yama and Kilgore. As some order is attempted to be restored, Kat rolls into the ring. With tears streaming down her face, she cups her man’s head in her hands and tries to look for signs of life. He’s barely conscious.
Howley: Look at this crowd. Nobody is moving.
Indeed, an eerie silence has fallen over the arena as the seriousness of the situation begins to set in. We get some shots of people looking concerned and even a little kid in the front who is crying. The referees are waving for a stretcher that is brought down to the ring. Shujin Yama hasn’t moved, still staring daggers into Kilgore’s crumpled mass.
Moss: This isn’t good, folks…
Kilgore is getting loaded on the stretcher and the last image we see is Lincoln waving the Japanese flag as the show goes off the air.