DREAM WRESTLING: SLAUGHTER XXXVIII - 02/24/2010
Posted by Webmaster
24 Feb 2010
The Slaughter House, Orlando, FL (seats 8,796)
The DREAM logo comes across the screen. As a metallic like shine gleams across the logo until it explodes to reveal a HOTv logo. The screen fades and we pan across the screaming fans until we reach the stage.
A series of pyrotechnic explosions begin to fire into the air and along side the big screen.
"Welcome ladies and gentlemen to yet another exciting edition of Wednesday Night Slaughter! I'm your host Jason Whiteside, and along side me again this week is..."
"I'll take it from there Jason, you're here with Jason and I, Lucien Walker, as we come to you live from the Slaughter House in Orlando, Florida for what is to be the greatest night in DREAM History! We are under the control of Mike Polowy, and Travis Williams is one foot out the door doing backstage interviews. And tonight, Talon becomes another victim of Polowy's stern ways!"
"Our opening match competitors are already in the ring Lucien. Kitty Purry and Adrien Cochrane!"
"Since joining the bandits, Cochrane has truly been what Travis always called him, A COCKROACH!"
"Why so harsh?"
"Why such a bitch, WHITEHEAD?"
The referee calls the bell…
Kitty looks to be ready to wrestle, but Adrien wants no part in taking on a female.
"She is in the men’s department, wanting to hang tough! You need to find your enter pimp chi and pimp slap that h…"
"Slow down Lucien, all we need is a lawsuit over sexist comments!"
Cochrane demands for the referee to ring the bell and throw the match out.
"I WON’T FIGHT A WOMAN!"
"MY JOB IS TO REFREEE A MATCH, NOT HAVE A HEART!"
Adrien and the referee seem pretty well heated with one another; argue over the fact that his opponent is a woman, while Purry is stalking her first victim.
"I do not know about Adrien Cochrane, Whitehead, but I never turn my back on some bitch! You cannot trust them. They screw your friends and family and then rob you blind!"
"How many times do I have to correct my name? And stop insulting women, before our ratings tank!"
"Like Slaughter did before I came around?"
Kitty Purry comes up from behind, and digs her nails into the eye sockets of Adrien Cochrane, and pulls out, as she attempts to blind him.
"WOW, now that is the wrath of a woman’s scorn!"
Cochrane stumbles around the ring, arms out trying to feel where he is, as Kitty stalks his every move.
"I would have to agree Walker; I think she was offended by Adrien refusing to wrestle her!"
As the referee is grabbed by Adrien, Purry uses the chance to drop down to her knees, and issue a low blow on Adrien.
"HEY! Cockroach finally had a woman on her knees for him!"
"What? She did, and he did not get the pleasure he was hoping for!"
The referee is released as Kitty Purry shoves her opponent to his back and goes for the cover.
Adrien throws his should up with ease.
"Maybe the ass bandit has some guts under that yellow skin of his!"
"It’s eGG Bandits!"
"No, I was right at the start, you see that Beautiful Bobby Dean? That guy is a fruit and a half!"
Kitty Purry stands to her fit and climbs to the top rope. Adrien slowly pulls himself up while masking the pain from down below.
"That is not one move you can easy shake the pain off of!"
"But it’s easily rattled!"
Cochrane turns around and Kitty flies off with a cross body, but is caught.
"Now Adrien can get some payback for those earlier illegal moves!"
"I would superglue something of hers shut, if I was Cockroach!"
Adrien goes to slam her, but thinks twice and just sets her down.
"WHAT IN THE HELL IS THAT IDIOT DOING?"
"I guess he is too much of a gentleman!"
Adrien tries to tell her he does not want to wrestle her, but she attempts to nail him with the super kick. Adrien catches the foot. Holding her leg up he motions that she messed up.
"NOW PIMP SLAP THAT BITCH!"
"LUCIEN! Stop those remarks!"
Adrien holds the foot up, and walks around the ring with her. The fans are actually cheering him on at this point. Knowing he has tried to prevent from hurting her.
"What do think he will do?"
"I would nail her with the AC, The Adrien Cutter!"
"He has a perfect setup for it!"
Adrien lifts the leg a bit higher, and shoves it back down fast. She flings forward, and Adrien grabs the head and levels her with his famous Adrien Cutter!
"THE CUTTER IS NAILED PERFECTLY!"
"GET YO MONEY PIMP!"
A shot is shown of Jason looking at Lucien with a strange look, and back in the ring, Adrien is now in the cover.
ONE… TWO… THREE…
Adrien stands back to his feet, and raises his hands high in the air. He throws them back down fast, as he looks into the camera that is on the apron.
"Hey pal, come clean your woman off the canvas… And if you dislike it, find me in the Bandit locker room!"
Adrien exits the ring and starts to head to the back.
"Well Lucien, Adrien is back on the winning side of the field!"
"You can only push even a dork like Adrien so far, before he snaps!"
A replay of the super kick being caught and the Adrien Cutter being nailed is shown.
Walking into the eGG Bandits dressing room with a garbage bag covering what could possibly be a suit is recent Dream signee, "Beautiful" Bobby Dean. Walking inside he sees his fellow Bandits sitting around in their large joint, private, dressing room. Each of the members look up to see BBD walk in, more than one has a confused expression on their face as they immediately look to the garbage bag slung over his shoulder.
CCJ: What’s in the bag Bobby?
Doozer: I’m afraid to see…
BBD: Well fellas, I was thinking. We’re bandits right, eGG Bandits to be precise.
BBD: Well, I was thinking, we don’t look like bandits… I mean, we’ve all got our own look, and I feel that we should sort of conform to one uniform look. So I got with my good friend "Sexy" Simon Marks and we came up with a look more "bandit-like"… And here it is…
BBD rips the garbage bag off the outfit for the others to see. Immediately CCJ falls out of his chair laughing. Doozer’s jaw drops to the floor as his eyes go wide in shock. Muru immediately begins shaking his head. Whammy and the Dude in the background are speechless.
BBD: Come on guys, imagine it, all of us in this, we’d be the hottest thing in wrestling! Simply "Beautiful!"
CCJ: That is so NOT Cool!
CCJ manages to spit out in between laughs.
BBD: Here, let me put it. Maybe you guys can’t see the big picture cause I’m not wearing it…
With the outfit on BBD stands in the center of the room and twirls, showing off the new "bandit" look.
CCJ bursts out in laughter once more, but this time, Muru, Doozer, and even Whammy and the Dude join in as BBD stands there with his hands on hips and his lower lip out pouting.
A single lyric is heard as a throbbing drum solo kicks in while high intensity strobe lights bounce back and forth..... then a guitar riff follows in time with the drums as Chris Jamez comes out from the entrance, with red tights, black boots, his hair slicked back, and a white t-shirt with the words "Piggy" emblazoned on the front.
"After a tough beginning here at Dream Wrestling, the man making his way down to the ring is out to prove that he can hang with the best!"
"Here we go again, Whiteside. You’re setting off my gaydar again with your Chris Jamez man crush… it’s sickening, really."
"I swear if you keep going on about me and Jamez being boyfriends, I’m out of here."
"OH! He admits it, folks! Jason Whiteside and Chris Jamez are officially a couple! You heard it here first!!"
"That does it!"
Jason Whiteside takes off his head set and throws it down on the announcer’s table. He stands, furious, and storms away. Lucien Walker is left alone at the table, wide eyed and jaw dropped.
"Screw him! Lucien Walker is better solo!"
Chris Jamez reaches the ring, climbs up the apron, opting not to use the stairs, and wipes his feet on the outside edge. Chris goes through the middle ropes, and takes his shirt off wiping his face, and hairy back, and throwing it into the crowd.
"Ugh, I hate when he does that!"
Chris continues stretching on the ropes, we clearly see a tattoo on his upper bicep, in old English font, that says "Halo 14", as the song begins to fade, and the lights stop flashing.
"This loser’s about to take another one in the old L column after Chris Bladez gets done with him. I don’t see why he doesn’t just forfeit right now! I mean, really though… Bladez is a former Anarchy and Tag Team Champion here at Dream Wrestling."
"Money, get away
Get a good job with more pay
And you’re O.K.
Money, it's a gas
Grab that cash with both hands
And make a stash
New car, caviar, four star daydream
Think I'll buy me a football team.
Money get back
I'm all right Jack
Keep your hands off my stack
Money, it's a hit
Don't give me that
Do goody good bullshit
I'm in the hi-fidelity
First class traveling set
And I think I need a Lear jet"
"And here’s the man of the match, everybody! Bladez makes Jamez look more like a Christine than anything. I wonder if anyone’s checked his birth certificate just to make sure…"
As the guitar and Saxophone start playing more fireworks go off this time starting at the bottom of the ramp and working its way up to where it ends in a huge blast sending gold colored sparks everywhere. The camera zooms in as Chaz Creed and Syd Mason come walking out from the back, Chris Bladez comes walking shortly after. The crowd starts going nuts. Chants of C4 can be heard throughout the whole arena. Chris Bladez continues to just stand there taking in all the love the crowd is giving him. The guitar and saxophone solo continues playing.
"Money, it's a crime
Share it fairly
But don't take a slice of my pie"
"THE SHARPEST MAN ALIVE, BABY! Look at the determination!"
Chaz Creed and Syd Mason start leading the way towards the ring with Chris Bladez behind them pulling up the crowd.
"Money, so they say
Is the root of all evil
Chaz Creed and Syd Mason walk up to the apron and lift up the ropes so Chris Bladez can walk in. Chris walks over the center on the ring. Chaz and Syd are on both sides of him. They all stare down Chris Jamez, resting up in a corner of the ring.
"But if you ask for a rise
It's no surprise that they're
Giving none away
"Alright, looks like we’re about ready to kick this one off."
Chris Bladez raises his arms up and one final blast of fireworks goes off sending even more gold sparks out. The music finally dies down and Chaz and Syd exit the ring.
"The Sharpest Man Alive throws out a challenge for the strength test to Jamez! If he’s a smart man, he wou- Jamez locks up with Bladez! What an idiot!!"
Almost immediately, Chris Jamez overpowers Bladez and starts powerfully pushing him backward. Straining to pushback with all his might, Bladez quickly realizes that his efforts are useless. Frantically reacting to the helpless situation, CB sends a knee up into the gut of his opponent. Jamez doubles over and Bladez sets him up for a ddt.
"Here we go! This is what I’m talkin’ about!"
As Bladez drops down, Jamez somehow gets his head out of the armlock and pushes CB down to the matt with a loud _SMACK_. Bladez turns and slaps the ring’s canvas in anger, pushing himself up to his feet.
"Dropkick by Jamez as The Sharpest Man Alive was trying to push himself up… what a cheap shot!"
Both contestants stand simultaneously. They lock up. CB toe stomps his opponent to gain control and whips Jamez into the ropes. Jamez comes running back… Bladez looks for a clothesline – Jamez ducks! He reaches back behind himself with both arms on his way by Bladez, grabs his opponent’s head, and falls, bringing CB’s neck down hard onto his shoulder.
"Neckbreaker by Jamez. Big whoop… even though it actually looked like it might’ve hurt some…"
Jamez picks up his opponent and throws a right hand toward Bladez’ head. Surprisingly, CB blocks the incoming punch and instinctively throws one of his own. Jamez ducks the attempted blow and lifts his opponent up.
"OUCH! That was a pretty vicious shoulder breaker right there by Chris Jamez. He’s really had control of this whole thing since the beginning. I don’t know, but The Sharp One must’ve ordered his lackeys not to attack tonight… don’t know how sharp of a move that was, looking at how this is going…"
Chris Jamez goes to pick up Bladez once again. This time, his opponent was waiting for it. Once close enough, Bladez spins and sweeps Jamez off his feet. Bladez jumps to his feet. Jamez gets up just as quick, scurrying into a nearby corner to make distance between himself and his opponent.
"Nice move by Bladez right there. Could help turn the momentum…"
Bladez charges Jamez. Jamez charges back! Before they collide, Jamez jumps into the air and wraps himself around Bladez’s upper body, with his legs gripping just below CB’s ribcage, bringing them both down to the matt with high impact.
"Oh no, Jamez is applying body scissor and sleeper hold combination hold… He’s got it locked dead center in the ring."
Slowly, Bladez fades out from putting up a tough struggle to lying motionless in his opponent’s relentless submission. The ref, circling both competitors, decides to approach Bladez and check him.
He raises Bladez’s right arm. It drops instantly.
He raises it again. It drops once more, just as fast as before.
Syd and Chaz look at each other, not sure if they should intervene or not. While trying desperately to disobey the orders from The Sharpest Man Alive, the ref lifts the arm for the third time…
"It falls again, folks. I can’t believe this!"
"Chris Jamez just scored his first victory here in Dream Wrestling over Chris Bladez…"
Looking confused, a returning Jason Whiteside sits down next to Lucien Walker.
"What I’d miss?"
"You missed your boyfriend take his first win here in Dream. I can tell you one thing, Whiteside… you’re not gettin’ any tonight!"
"Oh, spare me… Congrats to Chris Jamez on his first win!!"
"See, in love… it’s obvious!"
"Shut up, Lucien."
The camera cues up in the walkway towards the ring as both halves of the Maverick Express start to make their way to the entrance ramp. Halfway there, Sabin stops and places a hand on his partner's chest, stopping the younger man.
"Locke, just one question before we go out there."
Locke looks down at his partner's hand on his chest before looking over at Sabin
"What is it now?"
"I watched those two things that you called "promos" and I was wondering if you haven't written a check that your ass can't cash."
"What, you don't have any faith in me as your partner and a wrestler now?!"
Locke gets into Sabin's face which puts both men on equal footing because of the fact that they are both six foot five. Sabin let's out a snort out of his nose and shakes his head before he's pushed by Locke which draws some of the ire out of the older wrestler.
"I asked you a damn question and all you can do is shake your head like some kind of rookie punk?"
"Maybe it 's because you're not acting like a professional anymore, Locke. In all of our years tagging together you've never acted like this before, what the hell is up with that?"
"Maybe it's because I'm sick and tired of always being the nice guy, Sabin, and in case you haven't noticed it hasn't gotten us anywhere here in Dream because here you've got to not only have the skills but the ego to back it up...which I'm beginning to see that you're lacking one or the other..."
Before Locke can finish his sentince, Sabin knocks him back with a forearm smash right into Locke's face but Locke gets back into Sabin's face just as quickly.
Locke: What the hell is wrong with you!?!? You're willing to just let a partnership like ours go because you're afraid of my ego?! What the fuck man?!
Sabin just shakes his head and turns away from his partner.
" Let's just do this damn match already and then let's see if your ego survives the night."
Sabin walks out of the camera's view, leaving Locke a few steps behind to shake his head before he follows.
Travis Williams is standing beside a reasonable shorter then him, Psymon. Travis looks down at the top of his head and shakes his head.
"This is Travis Williams and I am joined along side Psymon. Tell me something, after everything the eGG Bandits have put you through. Do you want to even up the odds, or are you just happy where things stand now?"
"Travis leans down to get the microphone at the right height.
"Who are you again?"
Travis gives a slight laugh, in a more of a smart ass way.
"I use to be your boss little man, and I have held more belts in DREAM then you have fought for. So just answer the damn question!"
He slams the microphone into his chin, as kind of a do as I stay tactic.
"Oh yes, Travis Williams. I didn't recognize you because of your lack of power. Anyway, Williams, to answer your question, I'm simply not finished with the eGG Bandits. They may have the numbers advantage, but I have the driving desire to eradicate them."
Travis nods his head, able to agree with what he says.
"I know more then anyone in DREAM the advantage those numbers they have, can do to you. And now with guys like Muru and Bobby Dean added to their misfit goof troop. Do you have some sort of concern?"
Travis squats down some, to be at perfect level with Psymon.
"No. You see, T-Willy— You don't mind if I call you T-Willy? It seems to me that everyone addresses you with that name."
Travis stands back up, his smirk is gone and his face is tight.
"I do mind short shit! If you do not want to look like a cockroach on the bottom of my shoe, I suggest you keep it Travis or Mr. Williams!"
Travis takes a deep breath and snorts it out.
"Temper, temper, Mr. Williams. I'm not your enemy. Anyway, to elaborate more, if Cancer Jiles and company added two more or twenty more, I'll still have the advantage. You see, Mr. Williams, I'm smarter than those miscreants, and I'll snipe each and every one them."
He holds up his mallet.
"Don't you think you'd enjoy me braining them until there's nothing left, Mr. Williams?"
Travis' smile is back on his face.
"I'd be happy no matter what bad would happen to all of them low life, mid-life crisis having, degenerates! One last question Psymon, can you take the DWF You Call It Championship? And if you do, what would you deem it?"
Psymon looks at Travis, and gives a look of wonder.
"That's a good question, Mr. Williams. Can I take it? I believe I can. The last match we had, Cancer needed his eGG Bandit cohorts to defeat me. What will I call the title? Something more than the COOL title, I can tell you that much."
He looks up at Travis Williams.
"Travis, I want to be candid with you. I can see the burn in your eyes after what happened last week, and that burn can take you somewhere. You should do everyone in DREAM a favor and take back the company. It matters not how, just do it."
"Thank you for your time."
Chuckling, he walks away.
"Back to you guys at ringside... There are some weird ass people in DREAM these days!"
"Last week Lucien, The Grady Bunch was able to defeat The Maverick Express in what some consider a great contest. This week, Locke Helms takes on Terry Spruhen!"
"You are right, but this week… Terry finally gets to walk out here with something more then just an extra line on his name. He and his partner have been awarded brand new belts, the DWF World Tag Team Championships! And those puppies are BEAUTIFUL!"
"For once Walker, we agree on something. The green look has a certain flare to them!"
"Flare? I was more or less thinking it reminds me of money and gold! I am not sure if we need a queer eye for the straight guys here in DREAM Whiteside!"
"mOBSCENE" by Marilyn Manson starts to ring out across the arena, as Locke Helms comes out from the back with determination in his eyes and a tag team partner in his corner to watch his back. Sabin is dressed in street gear, as he allows Locke to garner the spotlight and he just stand behind him. As they reach the ring, Locke rolls under the bottom rope and jumps to his feet. Sabin uses his knee to get on the apron and step between the top and middle ropes.
"Are these two able to outdo The Grady Bunch at anytime Lucien?"
"Jason, as much as I hate these two wrestlers… No one is unbeatable. On any given day, they could get that upset win that jumpstarts their career into some impressive steam train event. No one is going to stop a train while it’s moving!"
'I Want It All' by Queen starts to play around the arena. The fans in the Slaughter House give a mix reaction, as some seem to be pro Grady Bunch and some just seem to hate them. Terry comes out, white towel in his right hand really big tag partner, Jared behind him. Terry has his smirk as usual, as he reaches the ring, he quick steps up, and wipes his feet off, before stepping into the ring. Jared stands on the apron only, as the music comes to an end.
"Look at how good those tag team championships look on those two!"
"Walker, I cannot disagree on this. It’s really good to see DREAM backing these men after those worthless Defiance guys stole the titles!"
Terry removes his belt, and hands it off to Jared who sets it down in corner near the ring post. Sabin is out, and Jared is off the apron, and the referee calls for the belt.
Locke Helms starts to come towards the center of the ring, but Terry Spruhen throws his towel in the face of Locke followed by a boot to the midsection.
"Terry is without a doubt, a smart and always thinking type of man!"
"I say he is underhanded and dirty!"
Terry slams his forearm over the shoulders of Locke. Terry grabs the hair and lifts his knee up. He takes the face of Helms and holds it there.
"This right here Lucien, is why I say that!"
Terry slams his foots down, causing the knee pad to rake the face and eyes of Locke Helms.
Spruhen is being discipline for the illegal move he just performed. However, Terry cares none about the referee and his rules.
"I tell you Whitehead! That is the reason I like this guy!"
Locke starts to pull himself up, but Terry gives him a hand, and wraps his around are his opponent in a bear hug like move.
"I never saw Terry as a submission specialist! Though he is using a bear hug!"
"No Jason, he is just wearing down Helms before hitting something big!"
Terry Spruhen squeezes and shakes Locke Helms, and just as he stops, BELLY TO BELLY SUPLEX!
"NOW THAT IS WHAT I MEAN JASON! Belly to belly by Terry, now tell your wife to sing us the finale!"
Terry grabs the legs and hooks them, while using his elbow and forearm to push his face down on the canvas as the referee is down for the count.
ONE… TWO… THRE
Sabin grabs the referee and pulls him outside the ring breaking the pin.
"What is the world? I never thought I would see these type of actions from those two!"
"Jason, they cannot afford to keep losing to those two! They need something big!"
Jared is on the other side in no time. He flips him inside and out with a clothesline. The referee is between the two keeping them apart.
"Terry Spruhen is no longer on Locke Helms!"
"Terry is a smart man Jason, just get off his back!"
The referee informs Jared and Sabin that they are ejected from ringside!
"YOU AND YOU! GET TO THE BACK NOW!"
"I think the referee is going to prevent something tainted from these two men, or maybe something that will get out of hand!"
Terry is trying to argue with the referee as Jared starts heading up the aisle, as Sabin is slowly crawling towards the ramp.
"TURN AROUND TERRY!"
Locke Helms hits the ropes and drives his shoulder directly into the back of the knee of Terry Spruhen. Locke gets back to his feet, grabbing the left leg of Spruhen and places it on the rope.
"He did not turn around Lucien; this is what happens when you turn your attention off an opponent!"
Locke steps on the foot and springs up and drops down on the knee. Locke grapevines the leg, and rolls up Terry.
"Terry just used the referee’s count to take a few breaths. He was not even close to being beaten!"
Helms gets to his feet as Terry is to his knees. Locke rushes in, and steps on a knee and plants his foot to the side of the face.
"SHINING WIZARD! Locke Helms has him, he just needs to cover him!"
"No way Jason, never!"
Locke Helms rolls over and covers Terry Spruhen as the referee slides into position.
ONE… TWO… THR…
"Told you Whitehead! The veteran was able to get his foot on the bottom rope!"
"One would have to believe that if Locke Helms would have hooked a leg, he could have been celebrating a win here!"
Locke grabs up Terry, and hooks the head. He drapes the arm of Terry over him and lifts him up…… And he is dropped!"
"Delayed Vertical Suplex!"
"Come on Terry! Do not let this snot nose punk win!"
Helms is climbing the turnbuckle, as he reaches the top he holds his arms out and motions towards Terry. He leaps off leading with his elbow.
"Told you Jason, Terry was just setting him up!"
Terry and Locke both lay on the canvas as the fans in the arena start to cheer for Locke Helms.
’LET’S GO HELMS! LET’S GO HELMS!’
Terry crawls towards the corner pulling himself up. Locke slams his fist on the canvas, as he slowly gets to his knees.
"Lucien, I think Terry is removing the turnbuckle pad!"
"No, he is trying to hmm, put it back on!"
Terry looks to be out on his feet, but is untying the protective pad from the steel hook. When he is done, Terry knocks it to the floor and slowly turns around. Locke Helms is up, as he lines up Terry.
"Watch this Jason, this kid has no idea what is coming next!"
"He knows how cheap and dirty Spruhen is!"
Helms rushes towards him, leaps through the air… Spruhen rolls to the side as Helms hits face first on the expose turnbuckle steel. Terry goes down and school boys him up.
ONE… TWO… THREE…
"And Terry steals another one! When in the world will the staff here in DREAM do something?"
"Staff, you mean Mike or Mark? Because the savior of all bad in the office is now cutting backstage interviews!"
Terry gets to his feet, and is handed his half of the tag straps. He raises his hand high in the air with the belt as the crowd all boos him for his underhanded tactics.
"These fools cannot truly hate this man! He is a wrestling icon!"
"More like a cheap one!"
The replays of the action that took place, and the ending is shown…
Psymon is seen walking in the backstage area, obviously getting ready for his match against Charlie Blackwell. Before he makes his way to the arena curtain, a voice stops him in his tracks.
Smirking, "The Monster" turns around and sees the eGG Bandits—sans The Dude, Whammy, Slaughter Television champion, Muru, and Adrien Cochrane, resting from his match against Kitty Purdy—standing there. Cancer Jiles is standing dead center, while Doozer is on his left. Newest DREAM roster member, "Beautiful" Bobby Dean, are behind the eGG Bandit leaders.
Normally, Cancer Jiles enforces his COOL title stipulation: you lose and you get egged. However, with Cancer’s hatred toward Psymon, there’s one thing "The Monster" notices, despite the Bandits’ body language…
They aren’t carrying cartons of eggs.
Three versus one. This shall be interesting. The smirk still on Psymon’s face, he walks up to Cancer Jiles, and sets his mallet aside.
"So, I see you don’t have eggs, and yet, you brought Doozer and Bobby Dean with you. Since you’re not here to egg me, what are you doing here?"
Cancer glances over at Doozer, then looks back at Psymon.
"Psymon…my new Jak Nemesis, I don’t believe you deserve an egging. Hell, you’re Psymon, ‘The Monster’, one of wrestling’s most controversial pains in the asses of all time! Especially a pain in mine."
Pregnant pause from the COOL champion. Can’t have him flying off the handle now can we?
He clasps one of Psymon’s shoulders. "No, Judas, no eggs for you. Instead, I think I have something special in mind for you…
Doozer hauls off and decks him right in the face. Psymon staggers backward. Doozer grabs him by the hair, pulls him forward and slams a knee into his breadbasket, sending him to the concrete floor. Bobby Dean, grabbing his legs, lifts them up by the ankles and drops a knee right into the nether regions. Psymon bellows out in pain.
Cancer spots Doozer picking up Psymon’s mallet.
"DO NO USE THAT MALLET!"
Cancer snatches the mallet away from Doozer. Doozer has a confused look on his face, wondering why Cancer took the mallet away from him.
"I want to make him suffer, not put him in the hospital."
Cancer steps over to Psymon’s head. He crouches over him, grabs a handful of his hair, and levels his face with his.
"This is just a taste of what we’re capable of when you screw with any of the eGG Bandits. You made the biggest mistake of your life when you screwed me out of the WWA World title. I’ll continue to come after you until there’s nothing left of you!"
Psymon begins to laugh at Cancer Jiles.
"You can’t fathom the gravity of the situation you just put your eGG Bandits."
Cancer Jiles’ face darkens.
"No Judas, you
can’t fathom the gravity of the situation you
just put yourself
He throws the back of Psymon’s head onto the concrete floor, ceasing his laughter. He gets up, gathers his fellow Bandits and leaves.
Meanwhile, Psymon is on the floor, temporarily unconscious. When he comes to, he dusts himself off, picks up his mallet, and chuckles all the way to the entrance curtain.
Man, is Psymon insane or what?
Kenzie Blair leans against the wall of Charlie Blackwell's dressing room and reads a book. She's fixated on the text of the book as she slowly flips through the pages.
The camera goes close up on the title..."Wrestling Manager for Dummies."
Kenzie turns the page just as Charlie emerges from the bathroom.
"Ready?" he asks.
Kenzie doesn't respond.
Charlie clears his throat.
"Oh..." Kenzie slams the book shut. "Yeah...I think so."
"Listen, don't get any crazy ideas, Kenz."
"Crazy ideas?" Kenz tries to hide the book. "What makes you think I have crazy ideas."
Charlie reaches around her and takes the book.
"Wrestling Manager for Dummies?"
"Well...I figure with Dawn stepping back I needed to get up to speed a little quicker. I did help you win that one match at the WWR Supershow...remember?"
"Yes. And you nearly got killed. Look, Kenz. If you think about it. If you get the urge...don't. I can take care of myself in the ring."
"No, buts. Now, let's go."
The area is swallowed up by darkness. Nothing can be seen nor heard for a few seconds as flashbulbs light the arena. A few seconds pass, and the big screen kicks on. Nothing but static can be seen. A few seconds later, a word appears on the screen, in an Old English font, and in big, black letters. The word reads this:
Finally, a soft drumming from a bass drum starts to beat. It's faint at first, then it becomes louder, along with some heavy guitar playing. When everything is finally crescendos, Mark Hunter utters two words over the PA system...
Explosions are heard and the lights come back on in the arena as "Nothing Remains" by Chimaira starts to play. A figure, dressed in a hooded trench coat, with a short-handled, stone head mallet, is standing on the ramp way, and is looking out into the crowd. He flips back his hood, and he reveals himself as none other than the Monster, Psymon, and the fans emit their mixed reaction as Psymon walks down to the ring, walking along with the lyrics to the song.
I shout these words to those who never listened,
I pen this letter with the utmost conviction.
It’s been dark in here, cold and relentless,
it’s been too long, and I can no longer fight this.
Too late to change my mind.
I’ve silenced the pain.
Psymon walks off the ramp and slides into the ring. He gets into the middle of the ring, raising his mallet in the air, as flaming pyro explode from all corners of the ring.
All these years passed,
no one heard true feelings,
you continued to act like you knew me.
Did you ever stop to think that I’d be able
to look in your eyes and say that I’m stable?
Too late to change my mind
I’ve silenced the pain.
Psymon removes his hooded trench coat, tosses it over the top rope, along with his mallet. He then sits down in one of corners, staring at his opponent, or staring off into space, waiting for his opponent
As the opening notes to Charlie Robison's 'My Hometown' play, Charlie walks down to the ring with his valet/girlfriend Kenzie Blair.
Well, I had a buddy back in eighty-one
And we made ourselves a pact
We were heading for the new pipeline
And we were never coming back
We worked eighty hours working time and a half
But LaGrange was too damn hot
We drove back home at the end that week
And we spent it all on shots...
Charlie holds the ring ropes open for Kenzie to slide through.
So I'll see you Houston
If I ever get out that way
I'll see you in Dallas
But I won't have long to stay
If you're ever out west son
And you're feeling like slowin' down
I'll see you around
Around my hometown...
After some posing, Kenzie exits the ring and Charlie's music dies down.
"We're about to begin this next match as Charlie Blackwell meets Psymon for the first time."
"I dunno Jason. I don't think I'd want to be Charlie Blackwell after Psymon failed to capture the 'You Call It' Championship last week."
"You're right, The Monster may be just a bit angry still."
"A bit isn't even close."
The bell rings.
"And we're off. Charlie Blackwell back and off the ropes. Runs towards Psymon."
"Blackwell knows he needs to use his speed to gain control in this match early."
Charlie baseball slides under Psymon's legs, and rolls up to his feet. As Psymon turns around, Charlie leaps with a standing drop kick that comes off as a tad sloppy but hits it's mark.
"Charlie Blackwell displays his athleticism with that drop kick."
"It's going to take more the that though if Charlie Blackwell wants to pull off a win."
Psymon catches his footing and heads towards Charlie.
"Blackwell under Psymon's arm as he swings."
Charlie steps forward, placing Psymon in a side lock, then drops.
"Russian Leg Sweep by Charlie Blackwell."
"Impressive. But can Blackwell keep control?"
Both men roll to the side and up. Blackwell runs at Psymon who catches him with a knee to the gut. He rolls behind Charlie, wraps his arms around his waist and leans back.
"Belly to back suplex by The Monster, Psymon."
"Pure power Jason."
Psymon roughly pulls Blackwell to his feet.
"Multiple knife edge chops by Psymon. Brute force behind each one."
"Brute force with built up rage causing each to be harder then the last."
Psymon grabs Charlie's arm, twisting it around then yanking as he stomps down. Charlie lets out a yelp of pain as he grabs his shoulder. Psymon runs past him, bouncing off the ropes as he returns he drops down behind Charlie.
"Psymon with the chop to the knees of Charlie Blackwell, sending him down."
Psymon turns Charlie over and covers him as the referee drops to count.
"Two count and kick out by Charlie Blackwell. He just barely got his shoulder up there."
"I'm unsure how anyone can kick out of a Psymon pin!"
Psymon looks up at the referee and just shakes his head before getting to his feet.
"Psymon now stomps away at Charlie Blackwell."
Psymon turns Blackwell over on his stomach, and lifts his left leg up, before driving his knee into the mat. Charlie grabs his knee and rolls over in pain, allowing Psymon to leap up and come down hard with a knee drop across his chest.
"Psymon now leading the onslaught against Blackwell."
"With Psymon in control now, I just don't see Charlie Blackwell being able to come back."
Psymon lifts Charlie to his feet. He grabs his arm and whips him towards the corner post, running behind him. Charlie grabs the top rope, stopping himself, and uses it to lift himself up. Psymon slams into the corner post as Charlie Blackwell lands on his feet behind him. He drops to the mat, cupping under Psymon's legs, rolling him up.
"School boy attempt! The referee counts. Psymon is able to kick out easily at two. Charlie Blackwell just threw Psymon off a bit with that quick thinking."
"No school boy's here Charlie! You need to take Psymon completly out if you expect to win."
Blackwell rolls back and up his feet. Psymon stares at him in a kneeling position and keeps his eyes on Blackwell as he stands.
"Psymon rethinking his approach after that pin attempt."
"He's probably thinking of the ,many ways he could murder Charlie. Psymon is insane."
Psymon walks over, getting himself into a ready stance.
"Lock up in the middle of the ring."
Psymon forces Charlie back into the ropes, he uses them for momentum as he whips Blackwell across the ring.
"Charlie Blackwell on the return, Psymon ducks down. Leap frog by Blackwell. To the ropes and off."
Psymon drops to the mat, and Blackwell hops over him. He takes a few steps, stops and turns as Psymon gets to his feet. Charlie jumps with a sloppy but effective dropkick.
"Standing drop kick that connects, sending Psymon to the mat."
"That was luck!"
"I don't know about luck Lucien, but it worked!"
Charlie runs, jumps to the second rope while grabbing the top. He bounces down and uses the ropes to leap up, landing his body across Psymon's. The fans give him a pop.
"Charlie Blackwell using his agility and the ropes to gain some much needed momentum in this match."
"He needs to do something big, now, and secure a win!"
Charlie raises to his feet, pulling Psymon up with him.
"Blackwell whips Psymon into the corner. Runs behind him, big splash! NO! Psymon moved!"
As Charlie hits the corner post and bounces back, Psymon steps forward wrapping his arm around Blackwell's neck, and dropping.
"Inverted DDT by Psymon!"
"It's over for Blackwell."
Psymon rolls over, covering Blackwell as the referee drops to begin his count.
Travis Williams is backstage joined with the masked man of green, The Masked Dollar.
"I am joined by The Masked Dollar. Dollar, tonight you take on Bishop Steele, the number one contender to Muru's Slaughter TV Title. Do you feel if you win, you should get his shot?"
Travis puts the microphone to where he believes the mouth of the man is located, and awaits an answer from the masked man.
"You're damn skippy I should get his shot! In the little time that I've been here in DREAM, I've made more of an impact than anyone else. And, since you seem to have forgotten, isn't it because of me that Muru is still the TV Champion? Really, he should be giving the shot out of gratitude anyway."
Travis looks at the man, and raises an eyebrow, but goes into his next question.
"So you feel like you are owed the shot anyway, win lose or draw?"
The Masked Dollar laughs somewhat.
"Wait a minute... who said anything about 'lose' or 'draw'? I haven't lost a match yet and I don't intend on losing anytime soon. But to answer your question... yes, I KNOW I am owed a Title shot, no matter what."
Travis looks at The Masked Dollar with strange look, and shakes his head. Not is disapproval, but more of a thinking process going in and out.
"Hot headed are we? You beat Bishop, and maybe you have a good leg to stand on! Wouldn't you rather earn it?
The Masked Dollar starts to seem a little bit unsure about Travis' reactions, as he tries to turn away from him some.
"Hot headed? No. Realist? Yes. You see, wrestling is a business, whether you like it or not. I, am a business man. And in business, you don't earn profits, you make profits. And in the wrestling business, you don't earn anything. You do whatever you can to make things happen."
Travis holds up his hand.
"Hey, that voice... Those words, do I know you from somewhere?"
The Masked Dollar takes a few steps back.
"You've probably seen my commercials on television."
Travis shakes his head.
"No, that is not it! I know you, personally! AND I KNOW IT! I just cannot put my finger on it! That assholish tone and smart ass remarks. I do know you, DON'T I?"
Pondering his current Situation, he attempts to make a deal.
"Listen, pal. How about I give you one of my 'TMD Brand' DREAM Champion T-shirts, and a minty fresh tube of 'TMD Brand' Tartar Control Toothpaste, now with even more polyethylene glycol... and you can just forget about thinking you know me."
Travis denies the masked man with a hand gesture.
"Ah, shitty offer masked man, but you won't escape that easy... Either tell me what I wanna know and the world wants to know, or up the bribe! Or we maybe here a long time! "
The Masked Dollar laughs at Travis' remarks.
"Up the bribe? Really, when you think about it... why do I even need to bribe you? What are you going to do if I don't answer or give you a bunch of free swag? Seriously... you bombed as a General Manager, and you're not much better as a backstage interviewer... or negotiator. So, I think I'm just gonna go handle my business in the ring, and when I'm done with Bishop Steele, maybe I'll let you interview the real #1 Contender to Muru's TV Title."
The Masked Dollar walks away laughing!
"I never was a GM, moronic drone!"
The laughter of the masked man stops, but his walk does not.
"Back to you two at ringside!"
The lights dim, a sole spotlight shines directly at the center stage. "You're the Best" by JJoe "Bean" Esposito begins to play and the fans immediately begin to boo. "Beautiful" Bobby Dean comes walking out from behind the curtain, stopping in the center of the spotlight. With his diamond encrusted robe flowing about him, BBD twirls showing off his dazzling robe before walking down the entrance ramp arms out to the side, the spotlight following him every step of the way.
BBD walks up the steel steps but before stepping through the ropes he stops and wipes his feet. After stepping through the ropes BBD walks to the center of the ring, offering one last twirl as the fans continue to jeer.
Casey Pierro-Zabotel's theme song "Show Me What You Got" by Powerman 5000 plays over the PA system as the lights in the arena begin to dim. A lone spotlight shines on the entrance ramp as CPZ emerges from the backstage area and throws his arms into the air. He views his surroundings and begins to slowly make his way down the aisle with the lights slowly coming back on as the one spotlight follows him into the ring as he tosses his arms into the air in the middle of the ring with an arrogant smile upon his face.
"Casey Pierro-Zabotel looking to secure a victory over the debuting eGG Bandit who's career has been astonishing."
"Zabotel has been in DREAM a long time now, right now Bobby Dean is in his backyard."
"It may be Casey's backyard, but Bobby Dean is the block captain."
The fans begin to pipe up as the camera moves to show Doozer and Cancer Jiles heading down the ramp from the back.
"It seems that some of the other eGG Bandits are on their way out to the ring Lucien."
"Why? Can't we just have a good old fashion one on one match?"
"Maybe they just want to show their support for 'Beautiful' Bobby Dean."
"Then why do they have eggs?"
The camera shows Cancer with a carton of eggs in his hand. Casey Pierro-Zabotel leans on the ropes and begins yelling at The eGG Bandits as the bell sounds.
"Well, this match is a go, even though Zabotel is currently distracted."
"Dean should be disqualified!"
"Why? Cancer and Doozer have done nothing but come out to the ring!"
Bobby Dean rushes Casey Pierro-Zabotel from behind. He puts his head down and jabs it into Casey's unsuspecting back. Dean then wraps his arms around Casey's, moves Zabotel down on top of his back and stands up. Bobby Dean then steps back and leaps up, throwing his legs out, dropping Casey with a verta-breaker.
"Ambush is more like it!"
The Bandits on the outside of the ring clap for their friend as the fans pop.
"The Beautiful One runs to the turnbuckle, climbing."
"Someone knock him down!"
Bobby turns around and positions himself, making sure to calculate Casey's distance away. he then leas up, flips in the air, and lands a shooting star leg drop.
"THE SHOOTING STAR!"
Dean rolls over, covering Zabotel as the referee drops.
"A, come on Jason! This is crap!"
"Lucien, nothing wrong has been done, except for Casey Zabotel not paying attention to his opponent!"
The referee hits three as the other Bandits slide into the ring.
"Chalk another win u for the eGG bandit camp!"
"I'm getting a bit tired of this."
"I could say the same thing about having a broadcast partner."
Cancer cracks open the carton and hands some eggs to Doozer, then after Dean is up passes some to him. The three Bandits begin to pelt Casey Pierro-Zabotel with the unborn poultry as the fans pop.
"The eGG Bandits now celebrate as Casey Pierro-Zabotel lays, covered in egg."
The camera zooms in on him then the three Bandits holding their arms up in victory.
Backstage, Locke Helms comes walking towards Sabin Richards, dazed after the blow to the head he suffered with the steel turnbuckle hook.
"Hey Sabin, what are we going to do?"
Sabin looks at his partner and shakes his head.
"Come on man, just give me some freaking input!"
Sabin sets down his bottle of water and examines Locke Helms.
"I think the first thing we need to do is, quit losing. But, before we can do this... We need to get you checked out by the doctor before we head to the hotel!"
Locke agrees, as he turns around and starts heading towards the trainer room. From behind, Sabin nails him with clothesline. Locke hits the floor, as Sabin stands over top of him.
"You are nothing more then a LOSER!"
Sabin grabs him by the hair and pulls him up to his feet. He throws him face and head first into the white brick wall backstage, as blood splats over it and the floor.
"I am not like you Locke, I am not some worthless piece of shit! I am done carrying you on my back!"
Sabin grabs him up again, and stuffs his head between his legs. He lifts him up, cradles around the legs, and jumps up, pile driving his now former partner head first into the hard floor. Sabin gets in his face.
"You can think long and hard while you are in ICU, how you can either retire now or come for some payback. Either way, we are DONE!"
Sabin stands to his feet and spits on the chest of his partner (EX) before walking away with Locke Helms' blood all over him.
"Tonight, we have what looks to be one hell of a contest! Dark, is a DREAM’er thru and thru, takes on new comer, Mr. Hardcore!"
"I am not extremely excited about seeing the hairy chest of Dark! That guy needs to get a full body wax!"
"That does not take away from his skills Lucien!"
"I know nothing about this Hardcore guy, but I hope like hell he is not some softcore performer!"
The lights go out of the arena suddenly pyro lights from left to right across the stage the music hits as the lights in the arena kick on flashing to the beat of the song the crowd goes crazy as Mr.Hardcore makes his way to the ring as he enters the ring and approaches the turnbuckle he raises his right hand as the pyro goes off one more time before the music stops as he prepares for battle.
"So, what do you think about him now Lucien?"
"Anyone these morons cheer for, won’t impress me! They need to learn that winning matches is not a popularity contest. These fans only hinder and hold them back from making themselves untouchable!"
"Binge and Purge" by Clutch starts to pour into the arena, as Dark stumbles from the back drunk as hell. As he heads down the ramp, he falls off, and is caught by the security railing and a few fans. Slowly he walks down the aisle holding the railing until he reaches the ring. He demands the security staff to help him into the ring. After much arguing, they throw him and walk away.
"I think he is drunk Walker!"
"You think? Have you ever seen this man NOT DRUNK JASON? He is a disgrace to this business!"
"I hope that this does not tarnish the image of DREAM!"
"Tarnish? Have you seen what has been happening lately, or even almost a year ago? You had Level-One as an honorable champion, and BOOM, then Travis! Then he was staff, and now they have let the freaking HOSTILITY Rejects in DREAM. Now our champion is TALON! What a crock of shit!"
The referee checks Dark, to make sure he is able to go… Dark cares not for the referee, as he shoves him to the side. So the referee has no choice but to ring the bell.
Dark stumbles out the corner, eyes blood shot and leaning almost falling. Hardcore comes out, and instantly blast him with a big boot to the mouth.
"I think this Hardcore character is pissed that Dark showed up drunk!"
"Do you think Jason? Wouldn’t you be mad if I showed up smelling like Gin and unable to pronounce words properly?"
Hardcore stands over top of Dark screaming at him.
"You do not show up to face me drunk! YOU WILL NOT DISRESPECT ME LIKE THIS OLD MAN! I DEMAND A CHALLENGE!"
Hardcore grabs him by the chest hair and pulls him up.
"Now that right there Whiteside, is how you handle someone who pisses you off!"
"That is why long hair and nasty body hair is never a good idea in wrestling!"
As Hardcore lets go, he starts to slap Dark in the face, trying to wake him up.
"He wants a challenge Lucien!"
Dark flings forward, and clothesline Hardcore. Both men go to the canvas, as Dark lands limp on Mr. Hardcore.
Hardcore throws Dark off of him.
"This man is not happy one bit Lucien. I am not sure if he tried to clothesline Mr. Hardcore or if he was trying to hold himself up with him!"
"This is disgraceful Jason. This is beyond anything of Lee or Mike Best and Tommy Crimson combined! Just pathetic!"
Mr. Hardcore is to his feet, as he walks over to Dark. He attempts to pick him up, but Dark is just limp. He drops him back down, and his face bounces off the canvas.
"HE PASSED OUT!"
Hardcore screams at the referee. The referee shrugs his shoulders but does nothing. Hardcore struggles to lift him up.
"I think this match is about over with Lucien!"
"I hope Hardcore drops this drunk on his freaking HEAD!"
Hardcore nails the Hardcore Bomb on Dark, and rolls over into the cover.
ONE… TWO… THREE…
"Well Walker, is this a victory he should be proud of?"
"I think he is ashamed this is what he was given in his first match in DREAM!"
Hardcore rolls out the ring and does not even look back. Pissed as he can be, he starts up the ramp screaming…
"SOMEBODY GET ME FUCKING MIKE POLOWY! THIS IS UTTER BULLSHIT THAT HE BOOKS ME AGAINST A DRUNK!"
Hardcore does not slow down his pace any, as he storms backstage in search of someone who can answer his questions.
"There is just no word to express the disappointment Dark has caused!"
"Yeah there is Whitehead, TERMINATED!"
Security and referees fill the ring to get Dark removed as a replay is shown of the Hardcore Bomb.
The camera opens up backstage, where Chris Jamez is found sitting on an equipment crate. He is wearing a black "NIN" shirt, dark blue jeans, black cowboy boots, and a black baseball cap with an enamel-colored "D" printed on the front of it. The hat is pulled down tightly, covering Jamez’s face. On the crate next to him is a bottle of Jack Daniels, a cocktail glass filled to the brim with a caramel colored concoction, and an open pack of Marlboro Lights, one of which is already lit and in his mouth. Leaning his head against the wall, Chris begins speaking in his usual, relaxed manner, slurring his words every so often.
"Well... well... well… another week has passed; another day has gone by."
Chris inhales, then exhales the toxic smoke, without so much as a change of expression.
"Needless to say, the past couple of weeks have been interesting… a loss to Muru, losing by disqualification to The Masked Dollar, and now my match this week against Chris Bladez. Funny how topsy-turvy things can get in such a short period of time. You know, I was just introduced to this place about a month ago, and since that time, things have continued to go stale, like a bad fart in a car with the windows rolled up."
Chris removes the half-smoked cigarette from between his lips, replacing it with the bottle of Jack. After taking a lengthy swig, he takes another drag from the smoke and continues speaking.
"The Masked Dollar is an excellent representation of what I hate about the world right now. So many people covering themselves head-to-toe, so as to express to the world what they would like to be, not as they truly are. With me, that is not a problem. I listen to Nine Inch Nails and bad 80's love songs, I watch Kevin Smith movies, and entertain notions of what a zombie apocalypse would look like. Nothing fancy, nothing out of the ordinary."
Chris extinguishes his spent cigarette, and takes a thoughtful sip from his cocktail glass.
"The sad thing is, The Masked Dollar has the skill set, unlike the lot of you rank amateurs. He can go hold-for-hold, move-for-move. Sure he comes equipped with all the bells and whistles, but when it comes down to it, he can go, which only furthers my problems with the guy. For all intents and purposes, The Masked Dollar is a good wrestler… I knew that a few weeks back, but this past week's Slaughter only confirmed it."
Chris sets his glass down again, and takes another smoke from his pack. A flick of his Bic, and the smoke is lit. Again, he leaves it between his lips as he speaks.
"TMD? I say your name as a question, because, you my friend, are questionable. Something tells me you have a dirty, little secret hiding behind your overpriced marketing ploy. No, you seem to have skills beyond how you present yourself with your Masked Dollar facade… and it concerns me. Why would an otherwise skilled worker, present himself as a flash in the pan character? Sad really, when you think about it…"
Chris taps off some ash over the side of the crate, and takes another long drag.
"However, with sadness, comes opportunity. Similar to how war provides opportunity for market growth for weapon designers, and how cancer provides opportunity for pharmaceutical companies. Your situation, Masked Dollar, provides me with an opportunity to shed some light on exactly who you are, and why you came here to DREAM…"
Chris takes a drag of his smoke, exhaling onto the camera lens. Through the smoke, Jamez maintains his serious as the Grim Reaper look in his eyes.
"And as sure as the winter is cold and dark, and the spring in warm and green… I will find myself another opportunity to see you stand ‘naked’ in the center of the ring. With each quarter of the year, new goals arise… and this quarter will end with your un-masking."
Chris takes another sip of his drink, and is about to speak once more, when a shrill shriek can be heard from down the hall. Coming into view is The Masked Dollar, dressed in a brand new, yet to be seen ‘TMD Brand’ T-shirt, a pair of faded blue jeans, and his trademark mask. Though his face is hidden, the veins popping out of his neck would indicate that he is rather angry.
Pushing his way through the crowded hallway, shoving people of equipment out of his way, The Masked Dollar is headed straight for Jamez, who is already on his feet and ready for a fight. However, TMD stops a few feet short of Jamez, and just stares at him for a moment. The tension in the hallway could be cut with a ‘TMD Brand’ knife, leading the random hallway dwellers to form a circle around the two DREAM stars.
"Listen you jackass! Do you really want to know the deep, dark secret I hold behind this mask? Well, I’ll save you the trouble and the legwork… and I’ll tell you right now. My BIG secret, which probably isn’t really much of a secret anymore… is… that behind this mask, is the face of a man that despite his best efforts, can’t ignore YOU anymore!"
Jamez looks a little confused, but keeps his hands up still, waiting for a brawl to break out.
"We arrived in DREAM at roughly the same time, and not a day has gone by where you haven’t tried to stick your nose in my business. I have all these other things going on in my life and my career, but every time I get a second to catch my breath, there you are, lurking in the shadows, giving me one more thing to worry about."
"You better be…"
TMD takes a quick step towards Jamez, cutting his sentence short and drawing his hands up into a defensive position.
"Jamez, I’m going to tell you this one last time. LEAVE ME ALONE. This is one rabbit hole you don’t want to fall down, because Chris… there is no way out. Well, no way that you’d find appealing. I am The Masked Dollar… and you know what they say… there is nothing more powerful than the Almighty Dollar."
Jamez actually takes a moment to take a sip from his bottle of Jack, and lets out a small chuckle.
"They also say… money talks…"
"Oh, how very clever. Seems to me that you’re the only one who is all talk. At least I’ve won a match. Take it from me, Chris, I have far bigger things to worry about than you, and you have a lot more to learn before you challenge me again."
With that, The Masked Dollar turns to walk away. However, before he can even take a step, Jamez grabs him by the shoulder and spins him around for another tongue-lashing. As soon as the two are face-to-face, The Masked Dollar unleashes a vicious slap that connects with Jamez cheek. The sound of flesh-on-flesh echoes throughout the hallway, only to be drowned out by the ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ from the crowd around the men.
"How’s that for talk?"
Once again, The Masked Dollar turns and starts to walk away. This time, Jamez just stands there rubbing his jaw, never taking his eyes off TMD. Things between these two are far… far… FAR from over.
The opening rifts to Limp Bizkit’s "Break Stuff" hits accompanied with flashing red and orange strobes. As Fred Durst begins to sing, B.R. Ellis comes from the back pounding on his chest and mouthing to the screaming crowd.
As he makes his way down the ramp, he continuously talks shit about his opponent, occasionally choosing a part of the song to mouth along with the music. Once he hits ringside, he runs the last few steps and slides in under the bottom rope.
The music continues and the lights still flash as B.R. runs across the ring and up the turnbuckle. He pounds his chest and talks some more shit as the lights go back to normal. Once Ellis jumps back down to the mat, his music fades out and he preps for the match.
"Welcome back folks to this three-hour Slaughter extravaganza!"
"It’s not much of an extravaganza with a snooze fest we’re about to witness, Jason."
"You’re a bitter man, you know what?"
"And you’ve figured this out now?"
The opening guitar riff of Mercury blasts through the loudspeakers as the crowd pops for the rookie, Tex Terror.
As the music plays Tex walks to the ring at a steady pace taking drinks from his bottle of Wild Turkey. Halfway to the ring he stops and points his attention to a man holding a sign that says "TEX TERROR FOR GOVERNER" amused by the sign he offers his bottle to the fan, which he happily accepts.
After putting the bottle aside he rolls into the ring under the bottom rope. He goes to the turnbuckle, climbs it and raises his right fist as he stares menacingly at the entrance, waiting for his opponent.
"B.R. Ellis wastes no time before the bell rings!"
"B.R. Ellis is such a douche. He gets eliminated from Tex Terror, throws a fit a Diva would be proud of, and now he wants this match against Terror. Ellis should have something better to do, like the chicKEN Chokers getting their asses handed to them by the Tag Team Division."
B.R. Ellis throws a boot into Tex Terror’s gut, doubling the man over, and goes for a front face-lock. He lifts him up and over with a Vertical Suplex.
"Textbook Vertical Suplex by B.R. Ellis against his adversary."
"Nothing ‘textbook’ about it, Jason. It’s just a damn Suplex. Every wrestler does it."
B.R. Ellis, one half of the Tag Team, the chicKEN Chokers, drops an elbow into Tex Terror’s heart, and goes for a lax cover.
Easy kick-out by Tex Terror.
"Did Ellis really
think that he was going to beat Tex Terror with a lowly elbow drop?
Shows you the ‘douchebaggery’ of that idiot."
"Will you stop?"
"Who’s going to make me? You? And what you’re going to do, throw your effing diaper at me? Psh, you’re a bitch."
"Texas Best" B.R. Ellis grabs a handful of Tex Terror’s hair and gets his rival to a vertical base. He throws another boot to the gut, doubling him over, and sets him up with what looks like a Pile-driver. He tries to lift him off his feet, but Terror blocks it. Ellis goes for another lifts, and he’s denied once again. Before he can go for another try, Terror counters with a Back Body Drop!
"Back Body Drop counter by Tex Terror! He’s finally in the driver’s seat in this match-up, Lucien!"
"Man, who came up with that analogy? I’ll say you did and call you a douche."
"Dammit Lucien, why do you act like this?"
"It’s my job, man. You’re the panty waste face, while I’m the ignorant awesome heel."
Finally getting some momentum, Tex Terror grabs one of E.R. Ellis’ arms, gets him to his feet, and throws a hard knife-edge chop!
And one more for good measure, which sends B.R. Ellis to the canvas!
"What’s with all the ‘wooing’ from the fans? It’s getting annoying. Did you put them up to it, Whiteside?"
"What, me? I have nothing to do with it! The fans always do that!"
"A likely story."
Tex Terror gets to B.R. Ellis to his feet again, whips him into the corner, and clobbers him with a Clothesline. He goes for the cover by hooking the leg and shooting the half.
B.R. Ellis kicks out before three. Tex Terror truly thought that he had the match won.
"Get a look on Tex Terror’s face Jason! It looks like he’s going to cry!"
"Oh leave the kid alone, Lucien."
Not letting the recent outcome get the best of him, he runs to the ropes, bounces off of them, and goes for a knee drop, but B.R. Ellis rolls out of the way just in time!
"Crash meets burn on that knee drop by Tex Terror! I’m starting to enough Tex Terror’s inept abilities to wrestle!"
Jason Whiteside lets out a sigh.
Tex Terror is rolling around on the canvas, clutching his knee. This isn’t good for the young competitor. Like a shark that smells blood, the cagy veteran—I’m talking about B.R. Ellis—stalks his opponent, grabs his injured leg, and drops back with a Leg-lock. Terror is screaming in pain, reaching for the ring ropes.
"I hope B.R. Ellis breaks Tex Terror’s leg. As much as I don’t like Ellis or the chicKEN Chokers, I hate Tex Terror more."
"I know I’m going to pay for this, but why do you hate Tex Terror more?"
"Two reasons: One, he has a stupid name, and two, he has a stupid looking mustache on his face."
"It’s a handlebar mustache. A lot of people from the South fashion their mustaches like that."
"It’s stupid looking!
Not only Southern people are inbred, backwoods rednecks, they have stupid facial hair!"
B.R. Ellis decides to break the Leg-lock, gets to his feet, and stomps on Tex Terror’s injured knee for good measure. He goes over to the nearest corner, climbs up to the middle turnbuckle, and drops the pointed of his elbow right on the side of Terror’s knee. Terror bellows out in pain again.
"B.R. Ellis is methodically dismantling Tex Terror’s injured knee. If he keeps this up, Terror is going to have some extensive knee surgery."
"I hate it when you talk nerd, Jason."
"I’m going to ignore that comment."
B.R. Ellis makes a signal. He picks up Tex Terror, picks him up and gives him a throat-first Flapjack. Terror bounces off the ropes, manages to stay on his feet. He turns around, takes a boot to the gut and Ellis administers a Sit-out Ace Crusher!
"Lone Star Stunner!"
"Isn’t that copyright infringement, Jason?"
"I don’t know. That’s what he calls the move, Lucien."
"You thought up of that name, didn’t you?"
"Sure Lucien, I came up with that name."
Instead of going for the pin-fall, he picks up Tex Terror and, somehow, some way, he digs up enough energy to give B.R. Ellis the biggest right hand anyone has ever seen. Ellis sells the move hard, jumping backwards and lands hard on his back.
"Jumping jackrabbits! What a right hand!"
"’Jumping jackrabbits’, Jason? Are you serious? You’ve been hanging around with those rednecks a little too long."
The fans are on their feet, exploding with cheers. Limping over to his opponent, he gets him to a vertical base, whips him into a corner, and does a running hobble at him. He throws a boot right in his face, which he pays for afterwards. He gets B.R. Ellis into a Full Nelson, hobbles backward to the corner, and climbs onto the second turnbuckle. Afterwards, he jumps off the middle turnbuckle and slams Ellis face first into the mat!
"Single Star Slam by Tex Terror! If he pins B.R. Ellis, he’ll get the victory!"
"Thank you, Captain Obvious."
Rolling B.R. Ellis onto his back, Tex Terror goes for the cover.
"ONE! TWO! THREE!"
"Mercury" by Clutch plays on the PA system as the fans cheer for Tex Terror.
"I don’t know how Tex Terror pulled off the victory, but he’s going to be sore in the morning, Lucien."
"He was lucky, Jason. Plain and simple."
We cutback stage to the Bandits locker room. Thus far, it's been a busy night for them. Who knows what is going to happen next?
Oh by the way, The Egg Bandits... loaded to the gills.
They have brought out the big guns. Yes, that be them dastardly double yolks, or the D-D-Y's for short. Each one of the Bandit's, brandishes their very own carton of DDY glory. All of them are donning their respective ring gear, accompanied with a grenade style ammo strap, with eggs replacing the explosives across the chest. I guess it's kind of explosive, being that if one of them were to fall, they would be laying in a yolky puddle. Except for Whammy, he's got his Sundays best on for the big night. Oh, and Cochrane isn't with is. He must be out on recognizance.
Wow. Come to think of it, this is a big night. No title's on the line, but it's going to be the first time, Doozer and CCJ have fought as Bandits in over a month. That part, we'll get to later.
They are on the prowl.
Psymon... no, he all ready got his punishment. Plus, he's not worthy a DDY.
MPlow... maybe. Anything is possible.
Talon... Likely. Unfortunately for him, his name has been called. Hence why the Bandits have brought out the big guns.
"It's time to send a message to the Dream Champion." So says the newly crowned, Hostility Champion. "Now lets get out there, and find that impost..."
With his fist held high in the air, the riled up Cool Champion roars out in his best William Wallace voice, "YEAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! EGG Bandits !!!!!!" In the process, cutting short the Dooze's pep talk. Stealing the whole shot, Mr. Cool bolts from the locker room, with the delightful taste of first egg in his mouth. Good old CCJ, always wearing his COOL heart on the sleeve.
"Always got be the first one..." Doozer mutters to the rest. Then asks, "Shall we?"
BBD and Muru not their heads in agreement. The Dude, unable to nod, due to passing out from all the fun won't be joining them on this devious mission. Although, he's also loaded to the gills, and it'd be a shame to let all of those eggs go to waste. Maybe he is playing more a back up roll.
"I'll stay with him, make sure he doesn't fall and make a mess." Good job Whammy, way to step up for the team. The remaining Bandits exit the locker room. To their chagrin, they find their 'false starting' friend, laying flat on his face.
In a puddle of yolks.
"Way to set an example... you COOL idiot. I still don't know how... Oh well."
"Well don't just stand there, help a brother out, Doozy." Cancer pleads with his old bud, who can't help but to stand and watch. The rest of the Bandits, on the verge of cracking with laughter, do their best to hold it in.
"I thought I wasn't COOL enough to touch Mr. Cool." Doozer retorts in a mocking tone. BBD cracks a little, but then regains composure.
"I'll make an exception.... this one time. Now come on all ready, I only got one egg left, so you have to wait for me to reload." Good thing the Dude took this mission off. Can't be running around with one egg. One, simple, can't miss it's target egg.
"Hey, I think I just saw Talon." Muru states, his voice seemingly going unheard as Doozer continues to toy with fallen brethren.
"Nah, I don't want to slip and fall, trying to help your stupid ass up. Then both of us would be out of eggs, and where would we be then? Also, I'm enjoying this thoroughly."
"Yeah, I think that was Talon." BBD says, having been the only one to hear the TV Champions quip. However, I'm pretty sure Muru said it loud enough, for all to hear.
"Doozy, you better walk your raggedy ass over here, help me to my feet, wait for me to reload, and then once again allow me to run ahead of the rest before I throw OUR match by getting DQ'd for beating your ass."
"You walked on water once, Jiles. What makes you think you can do it again?"
"I'm COOL... you are not. Now help me up."
"Hey, Talon, what's going on?" Doozer calmly asks.
"Hey, Champ, help me to my feet would ya. I want to reintroduce Doozer to the power of COOL. Fucking Althiemerz.. it can become so taxing at times."
"I dare you..." Doozer stops, as he realizes that Talon, the same Talon they are hunting is about to help Cancer to his feet. "Hey... T-Bird. When did you get here?"
Leaving his hand just out of Cancer's reach, Talon responds, "Just walked in Champ. You guys look like you're... oh shit." Guess he's smart enough to put two and two together. Score one for Hostility.
Still flopping around like a fish out of water, CJ calls out, "Well don't just stand there, help me out all ready! I'm the fucking COOL Champion god damn it."
"Uhh... right. Well I'm going to get going. See you guys later, and good luck with all this... Egg Bandits, you guys are crazy."
"Crazy..." Doing a spinaroonie, Cancer pops to his feet. Talon, with his jaw dropped low, gazes at the Champions uncanny ability to move about on an egg foundation. He does it so well, that the whole act almost comes off as ruse. "You should start running now." Taking CJ's advice, Talon quick pivots and takes off. He can hear Mr. Cool, as he countdowns from three in the background. "One......." The Bandits load up, "Two......." They take aim, like they are the official Dream death squad. "Me first!" Jiles launches a lone egg, the rest of the Bandits in dismay, decide to egg Jiles instead of Talon. He was all ready a egg mess, so they figured it wouldn't be in bad taste.
We will however, follow the solo egg. The egg that is tracking Talon down as if it were a poacher of an endangered species. The Egg, on the verge of crashing into the back of the fleeing Talon, when he leaps, jumping upward high in the air, almost in a flying motion as the egg sails beneath him. The grace in which Talon flies... well it's no wonder he's the Dream Champion.
The landing... eh not so much.
We shall once again stick with the still flying through the air egg. Turning the corner, an unknowing Terry Spruhen walks right into the line of fire. Ignorant to the fact that an egg is about to careen into the side of his face, he thinks to himself. "I'm the best, damn... oh. What do we have here?" Noticing a trampled photograph, the Dream Tag Team Champion bends down to further investigate. Causing the magic egg to luckily whiz over his head. Again, not even noticing any of the commotion surrounding him, he places the picture, which happens to be of himself, down his pants and says aloud, "Suck it."
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" The Cool Champion asks amidst all of the fury, causing the 'Spru' to become aware of his surroundings.
"Uhhh..." Maybe for the first time ever, the Spru, at a loss for words, quickly dashes for stage left. Fleeing the scene before any possible egg could yolk him.
Let's check back in with our picking up speed, steam rolling magic egg. Having all ready missed an agile Talon, and a lucky Terry Spruhen, it continues on. By now, all of the Bandits have stopped mocking Cancer, and joined him as he watches the egg in what seems to be slow motion. Enter, the new General Manager, Mike Polowy. "I can't wait to..." MPlow's eyes widen, as spots the egg, seconds away from crashing into his face. He glances to the background, spotting the growing smile on the Bandits collective faces, that just so happens to be in concurrence with his eye widening.
The egg, about to fulfill a two month old guarantee... stops.
In mid air.
A millimeter away from Mikes nose.
Enter, Mike Polowy's fourth wall powers.
"You've got to be kidding me.... is this really happening?" Doozer asks aloud...
We shall however, stick with the egg. Bouncing off of MPlow's fourth wall protection, the egg turns back and is heading straight for the sender. Cancer dives behind the wall of stunned Bandits, like a coward. Followed by Bobby Dean. The Egg manages to miss the Bandits entirely, finally hitting a plain clothed man in the back of the head. With all parties involved, now focused on the apparent stagehand, the victim slowly turns around.
The words on his t-shirt read...
The scene quickly fades, as Talon, MPlow, and the Egg Bandits, all stare at the man in shock and awe.
"This new comer is what we deem BORN WITH A SILVER A SPOON! However, this man has talent to back up his richy ways!"
The crowd screams along with the lyrics, as Warrant is blasted over the PA system. Green strobe lights begin to flicker and flash throughout the arena as 'The Walking Infomercial' himself, The Masked Dollar, appears from behind the entrance curtain. He stops at the top of the ramp, throws his arms up in the air, and flashes the all-to-familiar 'pay up' hand gesture. As the music continues, TMD marches down to the ring and slides in under the bottom rope. He immediately heads for the corner, where he ascends the turnbuckles and raises his arms in the air again. Having shown off enough, The Masked Dollar then turns and takes a seat on the top turnbuckle, ad he awaits the beginning of the match.
"The Masked Dollar’s opponent is no one trick pony! Bishop Steele has been making an impact since the day he arrived into DREAM!"
"Yet, he has failed to gain gold."
"In due time Lucien. In due time."
The lights get dim and the crowd silences. 'Forever' cues over the PA system and the crowd gets hype. Pyros go off on the corners of the stage. The curtains open and out comes Bishop and Alexis Steele on to the stage. Bishop stops on the middle of the stage and looks around at the crowd as he soaks in the essence of the hype and screaming. He then looks at Alexis and knods to her to signal that it is time. He then makes his way down to the ring with Alexis right behind him. He then climbs into the ring and holds the ropes so Alexis can get into the ring. He stands in the middle of the ring and Alexis poses in front of him, as that happens Pyros go off on the corner post of the ring and then the lights come on
"Bishop Steele has a Television Championship title shot next week. He needs to get out of this match unharmed."
The bell sounds. Bishop Steele waits in the opposite corner of Masked Dollar, looking at his opponent and grinning. Masked Dollar, with little patience, charges.
"Masked Dollar’s looking to start off quickly here as he… OH MAN, what an elbow counter by Bishop Steele!"
"Calm down Jason. It was a lucky block."
Masked Dollar stumbles around the ring, holding his face where Bishop Steele just connected with a strong elbow. Bishop Steele follows and grabs Masked Dollar by the shoulder, turning him around and whips him into the corner turnbuckle.
"Bishop Steele whips Masked Dollar into the corner and runs after him… strong body check by Bishop Steele! Masked Dollar staggers forward and falls to his knees. Bishop Steele with a DEVASTATING KICK TO THE GUT!! That had to be painful, folks!"
"Have you been drinking my Red Bull again? Calm down, seriously."
Holding his midsection and grimacing in pain, Masked Dollar falls over on his right side. Bishop Steele takes a step closer to him and delivers a couple hard stomps. Masked Dollar, writhing in pain, rolls onto his back.
"Bishop Steele, proving to be relentless against The Masked Dollar, pounces down and starts mangling Masked Dollar on the mat. Talk about a one-sided bout so far, everyone. Luckily for Masked Dollar, it looks like he’ll be able to reach for a rope."
"Even if he couldn't, all it'll take is a flash of the check book and the referee would see a rope break."
The ref repositions himself better to see Masked Dollar as he blindly grasps at a rope… at anything. Right as it seems like Masked Dollar could finally make a grab; Bishop Steele releases a hand from his opponent’s throat and knocks the arm away. Bishop Steele releases the mangle immediately, knowing Masked Dollar can reach the rope, and grabs his opponent’s right leg to start dragging him to the center of the ring. Masked Dollar, with just enough strength, lifts up his free leg and boots Bishop Steele, who stumbles back a few steps.
"Masked Dollar with an impressive defensive push back right there, I’m surprised he can even lift a leg right now…"
Bishop Steele bounces right back and clotheslines Masked Dollar as soon as the wrestler gets to his feet. This time, Bishop Steele picks Masked Dollar back up and whips him into the ropes. Masked Dollar bounces for the first time and comes running back toward Bishop Steele, who bends over forward getting ready for him.
"SWINGING NECKBREAKER COUNTER BY MASKED DOLLAR!"
"There we go! Now that's the money shot!"
Masked Dollar pops back up quickly after the move and lifts up Bishop Steele, still on the mat. Masked Dollar quickly boots Bishop Steele in the gut and hooks him in preparation for a vertical suplex, which is successful. Masked Dollar, back up quickly once again, and goes to pick up Bishop Steele from the mat once more.
"OH, cheap shot by Bishop Steele!"
The ref charges up into Bishop Steele’s face and gives him the business for delivering the cheap shot as Masked Dollar tip-toes around the ring holding his private area. Bishop Steele, pushes the ref aside and marches up to Masked Dollar.
"BIG HAYMAKER FROM Bishop Steele.. ANOTHER, Masked Dollar hits the mat. He’s back up within the blink of an eye… ANOTHER HAYMAKER!"
"Come on Dollar, Steele has nothing!"
"Bishop Steele is not taking it TMD tonight. Masked Dollar, standing stunned, gets whipped to the ropes by Bishop Steele… MASKED DOLLAR COUNTERS! What an impressive TORNADO DDT by Masked Dollar!"
Bishop Steele is down. Masked Dollar lifts him up by the mask covering his head and sets him up… Pump handle Suplex!
"Oh wow! I didn’t think he’d be able to pull that off kind of move just yet! Masked Dollar with one of his signature moves against Bishop Steele… That looked painful, people!"
"Take it to the bank Jason, this guy is gold!"
Masked Dollar drops down for the pin.
1……. 2…….. kickout!
"I can’t believe Bishop Steele kicked out of that one. The match sure turned around fast, it seemed like just minutes ago Masked Dollar couldn’t get a- OH, another low blow by Bishop Steele!"
"Seriously?! DQ this guy and lets move on!"
The ref, now steaming in Bishop Steele’s face, gets pushed to the side. Masked Dollar, bent over writhing in pain, gets his head grabbed and locked under Bishop Steele’s left arm…
"WHAT A DDT BY Bishop Steele! Looked like he just implanted Masked Dollar’s head into the mat with that one."
Bishop Steele goes for the pin,
"Looks like Bishop Steele was hoping for that one… Masked Dollar just had all the momentum going right there, he’s not going to give up that easy!"
"You can't keep good money down."
A frustrated Bishop Steele picks up Masked Dollar and whips him into the corner, NO, Masked Dollar reverses… Bishop Steele hits the turnbuckle with force. Masked Dollar ensues.
"Masked Dollar’s got Bishop Steele in the corner here… He’s throwing right hand after right hand, he’s having no mercy for the old man right now; this is vicious! Masked Dollar keeps throwing haymakers and Bishop Steele is just looking more and more out of it with each connected blow."
Masked Dollar throws another haymaker that connects and Bishop Steele can barely stand upright by himself anymore. Masked Dollar takes him and lifts him up to the second turnbuckle.
"Oh no, it’s not looking good for the Dream veteran, right now… I’ve heard about this move."
"Yes! Do it!"
Masked Dollar hooks his left arm around Bishop Steele’s head. He signals to the crowd lifts up Steele in a pumphandle like move and drops him on his head in a piledriver like move.
"THAT’S IT! THAT’S THE BUCK STOPS HERE BY MASKED DOLLAR! This one’s in the books, folks!"
"Ha! Told you Jason!"
1……. 2……. 3!!!!!
"Masked Dollar takes another win home. Over the number one contender for the Television Championship at that. Muru should take note."
"He should take pictures is more like it. Of that title before The Masked Dollar takes it!"
Inside the office of General Manager Polowy, Travis will stands with a disturbed look on his face.
"I am against my will, in the office of General Manager Mike Polowy. Why did you sum me? "
Mike Polowy shakes his head.
"Try that introduction again Travis, I don't think I liked your tone. Maybe this time, you refer to me as "The Almighty General Manager, the Prime Minister of Awesome."
Travis closes his fist so hard, that it starts to turn white and purple.
"How about I don't and you believe I did? Just inform me of what you want, so I can go back to this shit of a job you two demoted me too!"
Mike looks at Travis and smirks. He points down at the contract that has Travis' name on it and taps to get his attention.
"I'm going to say this one more time Travis, and I assure you that your job depends on it. "The Almighty General Manager, the Prime Minister of Awesome."
Travis shakes his head, ashamed of what he is forced to do.
"I am joined by the Almighty General Manager and Prime Minster of Awesome, Mike Polowy. Now, Mister Almighty Sir, why did you sum me?"
Polowy starts to laugh loudly, as he has once again forced someone to disrespect themselves for his own amusement.
"Mostly, because I wanted to see if you would actually forsake enough dignity to introduce me like that. And also because I want to test your abilities as our newest, most IMPORTANT backstage interviewer. Gotta make sure we don't have any dead weight and all that. So... interview me."
Travis takes a deep breath, and actually smiles.
"Polowy, what is the purpose of ousting the HOSTILITY stars who have signed deals here in DREAM? You, yourself, was once HOSTILE!"
Polowy looks at Travis with a stink eye, not too happy with the question.
"I'll ask that from now on, you refer to me as "Mr. MPlow". And the answer to that question should strike close and true to even your ever confused little heart, Travis. You remember Hostility. You were out there in the trenches with me. The HWF was a cesspool... a pit of corruption and waste. I called it the Titanic, yes, and though Talon may have been the iceberg, it was it's own ever corroded roster that deemed it so easily sinkable. Why would I want my company taking on refugees from a place they so vehemently set out to destroy?"
Travis Williams goes to talk, but Mike holds up his hand.
"I walked into DREAM when it was nothing, Travis my boy. And in a few short months, we have become a global promtion. The top of the heap. And now the rest of the HWF follows suit thanks to the success I'm having? I'm not a Hostile leftover, Twilly... I'm a DREAM Original. And as a DREAM original, the general manager, and the man who got you your job in this company to begin with, I'd think you'd show a little respect."
Travis makes sure he can speak, as MPlow nods.
"Mister MPlow, sir... I do not respect people who sinks to the levels of begging two guys you cannot beat, Cancer Jiles and Doozer, to lead your army. What is the old saying sir? If you cannot beat them, join them? I guess this is a prime example. And I will offer my thanks for getting me a job here, BUT YOU DID NOT DO ANYTHING ELSE AFTER THAT. I became a DWF World Champion without anyone's help. So save the idea that I owe you anything behind. I stayed, and helped make DREAM one of the best promotions around today!"
Mike looks at Travis with one extremely pissed off look.
"Yeah, and you did such a fantastic job at being the General Manager that we promoted you to be our backstage interviewer! Hope that in-ring retirement is treating you well, you fucking schmuck. That wasn't even a question, but I've got an answer anyway. I'm a former DREAM Champion, you floundering bag of douche, what makes you think I can't beat Doozer? We've had some of the biggest and best match-ups in the history of DREAM. You held the off-brand heavyweight championship, the K-Mart edition. Doozer is my general because he is dedicated to DREAM through and through, and as much as I hate to say it he's a force to be fucking reckoned with, even if he's on a cane and hip brace these days. And Cancer is on the team because... he's kind of a package deal with Doozer. Now ask me a fucking question before I decide the backstage interviewer is equally responsible for massaging my feet."
Mike removes his shoe and wiggles his toes.
"I would really like to know why you people in DREAM think I was ever the General Manager. Mark was, he ran this company to the shitter just like Tommy Crimson. Now look who will follow their lead! Mister MPlow sir, here is a question for you. How does it feel to be worst then Tommy Crimson at your job?"
Travis smiles, knowing what he just stated will piss off his new boss.
"Tommy Crimson was a joke of a staff member and a joke of a human being. He thought glory holes, tampons, and Travis Williams: World Heavyweight Champion was going to draw big numbers. I have already revolutionized DREAM television, and I haven't even been General Manager for a night. I can tell you're trying to irk me, Travis, but you're going to have to do better than that. I pulled us out of the WWA. I sanctioned newer, better titles. And I made a match sure to pack the house when we unify that ratty old HWF belt and it's 'legacy' into our own DREAM World Championship!"
Polowy shakes his head.
"Is that facts or are you bitter you were the one abused by such said Tampon? I heard Tampax even offered you a sponsorship deal. Considering you were never man enough to stand up and go after the bigger prizes in DREAM, you were happy being a bitch with the rest of the bitches that no longer play here in DREAM!"
Travis starts to laugh at Mike Polowy.
"Well, Travis... you raise an excellent point, you see."
Polowy quickly and without warning juts a leg forward, firing a snap kick into the testicular region of Travis Williams. TWilly drops to the office floor, unable to breath momentarily. TWilly grasp for air.
"You know, Williams, that's the most insightful thing you've said all night. Security? Get this man out to the street. I want him interviewing fat, confused fans until daybreak."
Travis is lifted up by five muscle bound security guys, and escorted out of the office with Polowy laughing.
"Tonight’s main event pits the DREAM Champion, Talon up against the general manager's new pet army, the eGG Bandits!"
"See Whitehead, this match was made due to the fact that no one LIKES TALON! Not the bandits, not Mister MPlow, not these freaking ignorant fans, who know no better… But they know better then to like Talon!"
"I think I would disagree with you Lucien; the fans in DREAM have really taken to Talon. Though with DREAM Savior, Doozer, at the other end of the ring… Who do you see being the fan favorite?"
"That would be guy who will abuse Talon! DOOZER!"
"As he transforms to a whole 'nother being... SUPER DUPER..."
Daps and pounds hits the PA, The Dooze and Mr. Cool make there way down to ringside. Half way, the two Bandits open on on the spectators... tossing random eggs into the crowd, the dumb fans act as if they were free hot dogs. The smart fans, knowing their calling card, pull out and open up their umbrellas. Used to shield themselves from the forthcoming EGGING onslaught.
Mr. Cool and The Dooze show no bias, as children, grown men, and old ladies who for some reason come to our show, are unmercifully pulverized with Eggs by the Bandits. Eventually, the EGGING subsides and Egg Bandits climb into the ring, and await the bell.
"So Lucien, are you a fan of theirs yet?"
"I hope Cancer falls, lands mouth first on Doozer’s foot, and chokes to death! Although, since they are aiding Mister MPlow, I think I will let them slide at the moment!"
"By the way, he only demanded that from Travis. Quit kissing his ass!"
The lights drop as blue, orange and white lasers begin to flash all over the arena. Fans cry out in surprise at the black-out as 'Through the Fire and Flames' begins to blast through the speakers. A spotlight shines on the curtain as a solitary figure steps through, clothed in the same colors as the lasers flashing vibrantly. He stands there, grinning as he spreads out his arms and lets out a battle cry. Talon makes his way down the ramp, waving and high-fiving fans before entering the ring. He hands his coat off to someone at ringside before raising his arms in the air and taking his place in the ring.
"So Jason, is this the guy you want representing DREAM as their World Champion?"
"Yes Lucien, Talon has proven to be worthy of the respect and honor I show him. I honestly believe that Mike Polowy is just pissed off that Talon is better in the ring then him!"
"Did you see what he did to Travis backstage? He basically destroyed that man’s pride and honor, and then shattered his manhood… And that is not some joke, he kicked him between the uprights!"
The belts are all handed off at ringside, and Doozer decides to let his partner start the match. After both men do some stretching and rope testing, the referee calls for the bell.
Talon and Jiles circle the ring, and step into a collar and elbow tie up. Talon and Cancer battle each other, one drops to a knee, to prevent the other from getting the upper hand, and when they come back up, the roles are reverse.
"This is nothing more then a power struggle at this moment!"
"It’s about who is BEST! Not struggle of power Jason, Cancer is the man who threw that DREAM Title down!"
As both men are back to their feet still in the lockup, Talon quickly takes Jiles into a headlock. Talon grinds the forearm into the side of the face.
"Perfect move to work an opponent down!"
Cancer throws some elbows into the midsection of Talon, taking him back against the ropes. Jiles shoots him off, and on the return, they hit in the center of the ring with a block.
"See that Jason, neither men went down! Though Cancer took a few more steps back, he was not taken down!"
Doozer screams at Cancer Jiles.
"TAG ME… I WANT TO TRY IT!"
Cancer walks over and tags in his partner Doozer, as he exits, Doozer enters.
"Lucien, Doozer has more weight to him and an inch over Talon!"
"I think Talon will still take the challenge!"
Doozer comes in the ring as he and Talon go face to face. They both hit the ropes and meet in the center with a shoulder block. Talon goes back first to the canvas.
"See, I told you he was dumb enough to take the risk!"
Doozer hits the ropes again; Talon rolls over to his stomach. Step over by Doozer, and he hits the ropes again. Talon is up on his, leap frog. Doozer hits the ropes again. Talon goes for a hip toss, block by Doozer. Doozer slams his fist into the stomach of Talon and back flips over. When Doozer touches the mat, Talon levels him with a short armed clothesline.
"Oh man, did you see that? Reversals and counters, and one thought ahead. Talon was able to take Doozer down!"
"Doozer went out of his element trying to counter a move and it cost him!"
Talon goes into the cover, as the referee goes down to check the shoulders.
Jiles is in to kick Talon, but Doozer had already kicked out.
"Not even close! But Cancer was there to aid his partner if he had too!"
"That is the disadvantage Talon faces in this match. It’s not just Doozer or just Cancer Jiles… It’s the eGG Bandits!"
Talon a bit dazed from the kick, gets back to his feet. He grabs Doozer by the hair. Doozer leaps up, driving his forearm into the midsection of Talon.
"Doozer was just waiting for Talon to come up and make a move, Jason. Playing him like a fiddle!"
Talon stumbles back, as Doozer is to his feet. Talon rushes towards Doozer wraps his arms around Talon and throws him backwards with a belly to belly suplex. Doozer crawls over and hooks a leg.
ONE… TWO… TH
Talon rolls his shoulder up preventing the match from ending.
"Now that was a close one Lucien, Talon was almost pinned off a shocker of a move!"
"The only shocker here tonight is that the fans are still awake. These goody two shoes idiots make me sick to my stomach."
Doozer grabs Talon by the hair, and lifts him to his feet. He takes him back into the corner as he is tagged by Cancer. Doozer throws some shoulders into the midsection of Talon, as Cancer is getting to the ring.
"I smell a double team Lucien!"
Doozer stops and heads over to Cancer. He grabs the head and arm of Jiles and runs forward, launching Cancer Jiles shoulder first into the midsection. Cancer moves back as Doozer runs in nailing Talon with a big splash.
"You got that right Walker, I believe that Talon maybe out of breath after that series of shoulders to the midsection and that massive splash!"
Talon stumbles out of the corner, the wits practically knocked out of him. The referee gets into Doozer's face to leave the ring, which he promptly does, as Cancer Jiles steps in to take over on Talon. Jiles gets a firm grip onto the back of Talon's shoulder, lifting him into position and dropping him hard to the mat with a stiff DDT. Talon groans, obviously still half out of it.
"Talon looks to be in trouble now, Lucien. He's practically on cloud nine."
"I can smell the blood in the water, and it's giving me an er--"
"Oh come on, that's enough."
Cancer wastes no time, as he mounts Rockridge from behind and clamps on a tight rear chinlock. Talon grimaces, immediately trying to pry Cancer's hands loose to no avail. Jiles rears back harder, putting on the pressure.
"Cancer has that hold locked in, and this could very well be the end for Talon."
"Jason, when is the last time you saw someone tap out to a rear chin lock? Let's be serious, here."
Talon reaches an outstretched hand forward, grabbing a hold of the ropes with a last ditch effort. The referee makes Cancer break the hold.
"Shut up Lucien."
Talion scrambles to his feet, scurrying toward the ropes. Cancer bounces off the opposite side, charging toward Talon. However, the referee steps in to make sure Rockridge is alright, and takes the full force of a Mr. Cool clothesline by mistake! The referee hits the ground like a rock, as Cancer steps back in shock.
"Well that was obviously an accident, but Cancer Jiles doesn't seem to be too pleased about taking out the referee."
"I wish I could say things were about to get exciting, Jason, but these guys are freaking angels. It's obnoxious."
Talon uses Cancer's moment of hesitation to his advantage, charging in and knocking the COOL Champion down with a quick shoulder block. Cancer hits the mat, but hops right back to his feet as he and Talon begin trading rights and lefts, in the center of the ring. With the referee out of the fray, Doozer hems and haws on the ring apron, finally deciding to bend the rules a little bit. The Dooze ducks into the ring, jumping into the fray as the one on one becomes a deadly two on one, advantage to the eGG Bandits!
"Now THIS is more like it, Jason. Look at that Hostilite squirm."
"I can't say I approve of the Bandits methods here, Lucien. But they're getting results."
The fans are torn, a "LET'S GO BANDITS!" chant being echoed immediately with a "LET'S GO TALON!" chant. As the brawl in the ring continues, the chanting in the crowd quickly becomes garbled, as screams and cheers go up for an entirely different reason. From the barrier near the outside of the ring, a man in a hooded sweatshirt has jumped the guardrail!
"What's this? It looks like we have company!"
"Who in the hell is this?!"
The intruder slides into the ring, as the eGG Bandits take a big step back in anticipation. Talon turns, as the hooded man drops his hood altogether. Talon's eyes grow wide in shock, as do the faces of both eGG Bandits.
"You've got to be kidding me. There's no way!"
"HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT PLEASE ME ON OUR SIDE!"
Talon stares on, his eyes locking with his former best friend-- former HWF World Champion Chris Bond! A moment of hesitation and tension between the two former pals leaves the arena practically silent, until as if on cue, both me charge forward and tackle the eGG Bandits!
"CHRIS BOND IS TEAM HOSTILITY! HE'S TEAM HOSTILITY!"
"What the hell! What in the ruddy hell! Mister MPlow is going to... oh hell!"
The chaos in the ring continues, as referees and security storm under the ropes to try and maintain order. The bell begins to ring, but no one is paying any sort of attention as the fans in the arena go ballistic. Doozer and Cancer bail out of the ring, backing their way up the ramp as Talon and Bond stare down at them, smirking wide.
"This match has been thrown out! And we are completely out of time!"
"Ah damn Whitehead, ruin their fun!"
"Have A Good Night!"