CONTENT

DEATH ROW WRESTLING: LETHAL INJECTION 7/4/12 PT 1

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Lethal Injection VI

4 Jul 2012

DeSoto Civic Center, Southaven, Mississippi (seats 11,000)

 

 

Introduction

Though it is The Fourth of July, you don’t care much for your family.  You don’t care much for your family so you’re in your room, sweating it out in the heat surfing the endlessness of the internet.  But then you remember:  Oh SHIT The Row!

You navigate to the Death Row page just in time; you haven’t missed anything.  Aint you a lucky motherfucker, sitting there in your patriotic American flag underoos.  Why, the founding fathers would be real proud of you with a get-up like that.  But, like the last woman you ever slept with said in bed ‘it’s not all about you,’ so let us get to Mississippi, shall we?

3. . .

2. . .

1. . .

Welcome to Death Row.

We fade up from darkness, and the collective noise of some 10,000 or so people fills the arena, echoing around the DeSoto Center.   The obligatory panoramic shot of the crowd is shown, revealing an arena full of people that seem to have taken on a certain patriotic theme.  People are dressed in reds, whites, and blues, Ole Glory seen flapping here and there throughout the crowd.

Signs in the crowd say things like

PROUD TO BE AN AMERICAN

DICK (with a depiction of a big floppy dick)

FJ Tombs’ biggest fan (with depictions of Tombs set in front of a Texas flag)

Lee Best Owns Tim Ross

Without further ado, we see the Death Row Commentating team, looking especially patriotic.

Wolf:  Here we are, ladies in gentlemen, at the packed DeSoto Civic Center, here in the heart of Mississippi.  I’m Waylon Wolf, and of course, with me as always is Tommy Ace.  Tommy?

Ace:   That’s right, Tommy Ace!  The Tommy Ace, the man holding all the cards and winning all the chips.  I’m an Ace in the Hole baby!

The Main Draw

 

 

Lethal Injection Six hits the airwave via Best Studios. The Lethal Injection logo flashes across the screen followed by Best Studios one. A short replay of the main event from the previous replays the stabbing sequence as the crowd pops. cVc defeating Cancer Jiles for the second time in singles compeition. The cVc flag then flashes on the screen before it fades...

Wolf: Welcome to Lethal Injection Six!

Ace: And Happy Fuckin' 4th of July, Ladies and Gentlemen!

Wolf: What a show we have here tonight, in our Main Event we have a Three Way battle for the Death Row Championship. We will see Skidd Row and Cool Cancer Jiles attempt to take the gold from Dark.

Ace: The Trailer Park Prodigy is the special guest ref in that one, Wolf!

 

 

*Shotgun cocks* *Shot Gun Fires!*

"Shock N Rolla...

Here to Show....

Cocked Back And Fucking Loaded!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Chance....

Von....

Crraank.."

As his theme music gets started up Chance walks out on the stage in his pink robe covered in rhinestones and other assorted fake gems. He glares at the crowd in Southaven, Mississippi from behind his aviator sunglasses. "CVC IS A FAGGOT" chants break out as he smiles at the crowd and they're hatred for him.

cVc™: Fuck All You Faggot Stains! Gonna Rock this 4th with our cocks out! LET'S DO THIS!

The crowd boo's Chance furiously.

cVc™: As you fuckers could CLEARLY see from watching the video shown a minute ago, Cancer Jiles has been beaten not once, but goddamn motherfucking twice by the Shock N Rolla... Tonight Skidd Row and Cancer face the Death Row Champion for my strap. Row is like Prince Adam, Cancer is skeletor and Dark is He-Man in the Masters Of The Cocksuck. Hit your cocksucking knee's to be greatful that the Trailer Park Prodigy™ is referee for this shit bag of nut sack sweat.

The RazzleDazzler™ takes in the crowd again and the hatred spewed his way. He walks around the stage pumping a closed fist at his crotch simulating masterbation.

cVc™: Nice hype for the match Jiles, dude you just do not give a fuck anymore? This Terd Cutter Enthusiast does not deserve half the shots he's gotten. Ungreatful, cockhugging, piece of shit wrestler from who gives a fuck.  Well after tonight I will finally have your stupid ass out of my way. Let's just face it Skidd Row, I got you in this match working the system claiming you were cheated when clearly even a Doozer FuckHole can beat you. Remember Row I paved that way your trying to walk if you listen real close ill even teach you the talk. Dark what can I say abour OUR OWN DEATH ROW CHAMPION!?! Dark can suck my Dicky, don't work the blistered head too quickily, your face will get all sticky. Motherfucker comes out here acting like he matters and is relevant? I have revived Cancer Jiles career single-handedly carrying two of the best matches in DRW History on the past two Lethal Injections. Goodluck replicating that with FudgePack Miner and some kid out of his league.

The crowd begins to chant Fudge Pack Miner.

cVc™: I will affect the outcome of this match. If I have my way Skidd Row will walk out champion. Atleast he has proved he can fight somewhat. The talent pool backstage is shallow, so shallow we called our final measure of its depth The Dude Balls Deep. Cort as a number one contender is like pulling out instead of giving that whore a cream pie. Just Fucking Waterhead Retard that loves the recently deceased Nickleback retarded. These two new number one contenders are just as fucking bad. The Death Row strap is on a closeted homosexual with daddy made him stroke off while being recorded issues. Cancer Jiles needs this loss so he can realize TPP is the real draw. He needs to be realistic and realize the type of real deal with his own theme video and music is here. Then realize only playing hide the cock with Doozer is all he has left.

The crowd continues to chant Fudge Pack Miner.

cVc™: Ross comes out here running his man pleaser about me and his security won't be able to help his DBO looking ass survive this night. I have had it with this cock stain coming out here explaing how easy it is to get on all fours and be fucked by Lee Best. Hey that makes me think of HOW and the last time CCJ was relevant between these ropes. Do Not Turn the Channel, The RazzleDazzler is here and in HD, Don't adjust your tv screens, I ooze epic and shit awesome. Look at this hair, these clothes, a motherfucking joke I Am Not. Expecially the hair these faggots in Death Row call a Mullet. I call it business in the front, and a fucking party in the back. It's like a homosexual tendacy breaking out in a eGG Bandits tree house meeting and Always Happening. Shock N Rolla... Here to Show YA!.... Coccckkked.... Back!! And Fucking Loaded, Death Row Champion Soon to fucking Be... CCCChhhhhAAAAnnnce! VON! CRANK!

Chance drops the mic and walks toward the curtain facing the crowd to his theme. Both arms held high into the air...

 

Seth Stratton vs. Tye Plaisance

Wolf:  Happy Fourth of July everyone, thanks for spending your holiday with Death Row wrestling.

Ace:  Hopefully by now you’ve consumed lots of American beer, maybe even taken in a fireworks show.  I know I’ve had about seven hotdogs today Wolf.  Can’t get enough of them.  Now comes the bloodshed, rather fitting when you think this country was founded on bloodshed Wolf.  Why when I think of General Washington and General Lincoln and General Franklin I just get all revved up inside. . . like I wanna punch me a foreigner, or fuck a blonde in the back of a pickup truck. . . something—anything that just reeks AMERICA!

Wolf:  Lincoln was never a General you fool. . . Nor Benjamin Franklin. 

Ace:  Sure ole Franklin was.  Didn’t he cut down that cherry tree?  Didn’t he win the Battle of the Bulge?  Did he not invent the microwave?  I know my American history Wolf. . . don’t test me on my American history—not today—not on this day of our Nation’s victory over the French. . . the same limey fucks we fought over in DeNang.   It would be disgraceful for you to continue like this.

Wolf:  DeNang?  Battle of the Bulge?   Just what the hell are you talking about?  You are hopeless beyond words Ace. . .  I apologize for him folks, as he knows not his manners.  Gather around the computer everyone, as we spill a little blood of our own tonight.  Our Fourth of July edition of Lethal Injection starts now, with our first match of the night.  We’ve got two new comers here, looking to test their skills for the first time tonight.

Ace:  Wake up, Row; new meat coming down the line!

An unfamiliar guitar intro is heard by the Death Row fans, and although it is foreign to them a few of them cheer.  Sporadic cheers come from the crowd as the music continues.  When the intro is done the lyrics start up:

I’ve got Elvis on my elbow
And when I flex Elvis talks

The curtains part and Seth Stratton appears.  At the sight of him a few of the fairer sex in the crowd swoon, or so he likes to tell himself.

Wolf:  Remember fans to follow us on twitter and tweet along tonight!  Let everyone know we’ve got a debut!  Hashtag Deathrowwrestling.  Here he is making his debut ladies and gentlemen, Seth Stratton—The Sultan of Sweet!

Ace:  Why do you suppose they call him a sultan?  He doesn’t even look Arabic. . .

Wolf:  Alliteration will get you everywhere these days, Ace.

I’ve got a hula girl, on the back of my leg,
And she hulas, when I walk

Seth walks down the direct center of the aisle, wishing for no one to touch him.  In vain the fans reach out, and as one gets close Seth draws away from the hand, acting as if it were covered with disease. 

Ace:  He’s a peculiar one, aint he Wolf?

Wolf:  Yes, a little OCD if you ask me.  This Seth guy isn’t all there.  They say he left tennis because they wouldn’t let him play anymore.  He was forced to leave.  He was blacklisted.

Ace:  You mean to say this guy was worse than John McEnroe?

Wolf:  Yes. . . he was even worse than McEnroe.

Ace:  My God Wolf. . . this guy must be a total asshole!  Welcome to the Row!

Van Halen continues to play as Seth gingerly climbs up the ring steps.  He takes a moment to look around before reaching the apron, where he steps through the ropes properly, for it is his opinion that sliding into the ring is for Goddamn animals.

The crowd quiets down as The Way I Am by Enimen starts up.  The crowd pops at the familiarity of the song, as the beat pumps through the arena.

Wolf:  Here comes his opponent, Ace—Tye Plaisance.  This is a very close match up, Ace.  Both men stand at six feet, two inches.

Ace:  Not quite, Wolf.  It is rumored that Seth Stratton isn’t six foot, two, though he’s quite adamant that he is.  Actually when the match was billed he was told he was going to be measured officially and he stormed out of the room and has been ‘unreachable’ ever since.

The lyrics begin as Tye Plaisance emerges from behind the curtain.  He gets a mild pop as he emerges, and he looks out on the crowd.  Suddenly he raises his arms, and as he does a great explosion of pyrotechnics goes off, blasting the ears of everyone in the stadium and leaving a cloud of smoke in the air.

Wolf:  What a blast, Ace!

Ace:  I think the temperature just went up several degrees in this place!

Wolf:  Tye just woke up this crowd, that’s for sure!

Ace:  Check your undies Wolf, that blast may have shaken you colon loose!

Wolf:  Don’t be ridiculous Ace.  My colon is just fine, thanks.  I’ve had a colonoscopy you know!

Ace:  Please… I’m trying to forget.

Tye walks down the ramp, the fans reaching out to touch him.  He looks out over the crowd and heads to the ring.  He climbs in and immediately heads to a corner.  Pulling himself up he raises his arms over his head to a mild pop from the crowd.  He lowers and turns to face Seth, who’s staring him down.

Ace:  He’s gonna have to be careful in there, if Seth’s wrestling career is anything like his tennis career, we can expect a lot of cheating.  Cheap shots galore, Wolf.

Announcer:  Ladies and gentlemen, the following matchup is scheduled for a twenty minute time limit, the winner being determined by submission or pin fall.  Introducing first. . . from Mill Valley, California. . .  Standing in at six feet, two inches, weighing in at two-hundred and thirty pounds, he is ‘The Sultan of Sweet,’ Sethhh Straaatttoooon!”

Seth raises his arms and demonstrates his killer backhand.  The crowd boos and settles down for the next announcement.

Announcer:  And his opponent. . . hailing from Gueydan Lousiana, standing in at six feet, two inches, weighing in at two hundred and fifteen pounds, he is ‘The Natural,’ Tyyyee Plaaaiiisaannnccee!”

The crowd cheers Tye and quiets down as the bell rings. . . 

Ace:  Plaisance, what’s that mean anyway?

Wolf:  Well if you ask Seth, it’s French for Anal Warts.

Ace:  Hmm, Tye Anal Warts… quite the ring to it.

The two men meet in the center of the ring, the crowd buzzing with anticipation of the action.  They stare one another down, exchanging inaudible words.  Standing face to face it is apparent that Seth isn’t as tall as he claims he is, as Tye is nearly a head taller, looking down at him.  Seth appears to be trying to make friends and extends a hand toward Tye.  Reluctant, Tye looks to the fans for support.

Wolf:  What have we got here?  A little sportsmanship from Seth Straton?

Ace:  Hey, he could have changed his ways, you never know.

The fans cheer on Tye, so he reluctantly stretches out his hand to shake Seth’s.  Their hands interlock, and just as Tye relaxes Seth charges him with a clothesline, knocking him clean to the mat.  Seth stands over Tye laughing as the crowd boos.

Ace:  Or not.

Wolf:  Massive clothesline by Seth Stratton, Tye never saw it coming!

Ace:  This guy really is worse than McEnroe!

Wolf:  You said it, Ace!

Still laughing Seth stomps Tye in the back of the head, then again, and once more. 

Wolf:  Apparently this is all very funny to Seth.

Ace:  Of course it is funny, he’s beating the other guy!  Look that’s how you pick up a man.

Seth grabs Tye by the hair, lifting him to his knees.  Seth looks around at the crowd, laughing at their disgust in his actions, as Tye reaches up and punches him with a quick right to the gut.  The crowd pops, but Seth is unfazed by the blow and promptly gives Tye a punch to the face for all his troubles.  Grabbing Tye he whips him into the ropes, and on his return he goes for another clothesline, which Tye ducks. 

Wolf:  Seth with the clothesline, ducked by Tye.  Tye returning now. . .

Seth turns around in time to see Tye returning after a bounce off the ropes on the opposite side of the ring, and, sizing him up he spins and hits him with a backfist to the abdomen.

Wolf:  Backhand from Seth!

Ace:  Service!

Tye doubles over and Seth hooks his head under his arm and plants him with a DDT.  He goes for the cover and the referee scrambles to the mat:

1….

2…..

Wolf:  Kickout!  Seth going for the early win here!

Ace:  The Row aint as easy as a tennis match!

Frustrated Seth lifts Tye and tosses him into the turnbuckle.  He taunts the crowd as he saunters over toward Tye and proceeds to give him several chops to his chest. 

Wolf:  Seth working Tye in the corner now with those vicious chops to the chest.

Ace:  You can see all those blood vessels bursting Wolf, Tye is gonna be bruised tomorrow!

When its good and red he lifts Tye to the top of the turnbuckle and climbs up on the second rope. 

Wolf:  No!  What’s he doing!  What’s he doing?!

Ace:  What’s it fuckin’ look like Wolf?

He hooks Tye’s arm around his head and steps up to the top rope and lifts him up over his head slamming him to the mat with a superplex.

Wolf:  Massive superplex from the top rope!  What strength, Ace.

Ace:  Apparently beating up blind kids does much for the muscle!

Wolf:  He beat up a blind kid?

Ace:  You better believe it Wolf.  You better be careful, he probably doesn’t mind beating up geriatrics either!

Tye writhes on the mat as Seth flexes for the crowd.  He shows off another backhand from his old tennis career and heads toward Tye.  He lifts him up by his hair and tosses him into the ropes, as Tye returns he lifts him and slams him to the mat, all in one motion.

Wolf:  Textbook power slam from Seth.  He goes for the cover!  1. . . . 2. . . NO!  Tye kicks out, Tye kicks out!

Ace:  Tye needs to find him a way out of this one.  Seth is all over him tonight, this crowd meanwhile is trying to get behind Tye.  

Seth lifts Tye to his feet and the crowd starts to cheer on Tye with the hopes of reviving him.  Seth looks around at the crowd and laughs.  He tries to toss Tye into the ropes, but Tye holds his ground and their arms flex taught.  He tries to toss Tye into the ropes again, but again Tye puts on the brakes.  Seth shakes his head and Tye spears him to the ground. 

Wolf:  Tackled by Tye!

Ace:  I always liked ‘spear’ better.

The crowd pops as Tye grabs a shocked Seth and brings him to his feet.  He throws him into the ropes and upon his return Tye slams Seth to the mat with Japanese arm drag.

Wolf:  New life here from Tye!  Seth is up again, he charges Tye, Tye grabs him, another quick arm drag from Tye, the fans are going crazy here Ace!

Ace:  Tye has found his second wind!  But wait, look, Seth is up again!

Tye charges Seth but Seth catches him and throws him over his head with a belly to belly suplex.  All of Tye’s momentum is quickly lost, and the crowd quiets down.  Seth sells his injuries a little before stomping Tye several times in the back on the head.

Wolf:  More ground and pound here from Seth.  Tye’s got to change things around here or he’s going to be in for a long, painful night.

Ace:  I don’t think he can change things Wolf, he’s just plain out matched tonight.

When he’s done he grabs Tye by the hair and lifts him to his feet.  He then locks up with Tye.  They struggle and Tye kicks Seth in the stomach. 

Wolf:  Kick to the stomach by Tye, Tye hooks Seth. . .

With the opening he hooks Seth under his arm.  Seth reverses, twisting behind Tye whilst grabbing his arm into a rear hammer lock. 

Wolf:  Hammer lock applied by Seth.  Tye has got to get to the ropes.

Ace:  He really is the best around Wolf.  That entrance music aint just a pretty song, it’s truth!

Seth wrenches Tye’s arm and Tye grabs at his shoulder instinctively, trying to stop the pain.  With his forward momentum Tye brings Seth to the ropes and with his offhand grabs the ropes.  The ref breaks the hold.

Wolf:  Tye able to get to the ropes here, Seth will have to break the hold.

Ace:  But he isn’t Wolf!  He’s not letting go!

Wolf:  Well we expected him to cheat and so far he has lived up to that expectation.  Come on ref, get in there!

The ref counts, 1… 2… 3… 4… Seth breaks the hold and backs away from Tye, receiving a warning and a smelly finger in his face from the ref.  Seth backs away, pleading innocence, as Tye works to pain out of his arm. 

Wolf:  I can tell you already I don’t like this Seth kid.  He’s full of himself and doesn’t even play the game right.  If only we could blacklist him!  Good riddance!

Ace:  Hey this is The Row, anything goes Wolf.

Tye rubs his eye as he meets Seth in the center of the ring and the two quickly lock up.  Tye gains the upper hand and kicks Seth in the stomach, bending him over at the waist.  Tye then lifts his leg and brings it down on the back of Seth’s head, bringing him to the mat all in one motion.

Ace:  A little life here from Tye, he’s giving it all he’s got.

Wolf:  Yes but it just might not be enough. . . A cover by Tye, 1… 2… Seth kicks out!  Seth looks frustrated as hell!

Ace:  He was just one second away from losing!

Wolf:  Tye is up now, a bit shaken.

Tye is to his feet first, and tries to tie up with Seth but quickly Seth ascends upon Tye and pokes him in the eye. 

Ace:  Yes!

The crowd protests as Seth laughs and grabs Tye by the head.  He spins around, bringing Tye with him down to the mat with a spinning neck breaker. 

Wolf:  Textbook spinning neck breaker from Seth Stratton.  Tye is not in a good place.

Tye grabs his kneck as Seth bounces off the ropes for momentum and drops a knee right on Tye’s face. 

 Wolf:  Pin here, 1. . . 2. . . No!  Seth lifts Tye’s shoulder!  He’s not done yet.  He wants to destroy Tye here, not just beat him!  He wants to make a statement!  Off all the rotten things--

Ace:  Well he’s gonna make a statement alright.  If this works out he’ll look like a brutal bastard, but if he fails it’s gonna haunt him.  People in the back are gonna call him a dumb ass!  If you’ve got a chance to win it, you take it.  Especially here in The Row, where at any moment you can lose your life at the hands of a guy like Tarasque! 

Seth lifts Tye up off the mat, hooking his head under his arm and lifting him completely vertical on the air.  Seth holds Tye there for a few seconds, illustrating his strength before dropping him directly on his head.

Wolf:  Massive brain buster from Seth.  Seth taking a page, it seems, out of our Death Row Champion’s book!  What strength to hold Tye up there like that!

Ace:  I like Dark’s brainbusters more.  Somehow it seems more miraculous, like you can’t believe the drunk is capable of lifting a man, let alone dropping him perfectly on his head.  But yeah Wolf, apparently there’s more to this tennis player than meets the eye!  Wrestling just may be the perfect niche for him!

By now Tye is properly fucked up, and Seth realizes it, looking down at Tye and watching his eyes roll about his head.  Seth raises his arms as if to give everyone a chance to assess the damage he has done. 

Wolf:  He’s just playing with him now!  Seth is just playing with him now!  Pin the poor kid and get it done with!

Ace:  No, I wanna watch him squeal!

Lifting Tye he steps back and watches him stumble about the ring.

Ace:  Look he’s walking like Dark!

Seth eyes up a kick like a pro kicker and the proceeds to kick Tye right in the balls. 

Ace:  OHHH!

Wolf:  Well...

Tye crumples to the ring as the ref gets up in Seth’s face and gives him a warning.  The crowd showers Seth with boos.

Ace:  Looks like Tye will be singing soprano for the rest of the night Wolf.

Wolf:  Well. . . Right in the family jewels!

Ace:  Someone get a bucket!

Wolf:  Ace?  What?

Ace:  What, don’t you feel like you gotta puke when you take a good shot to the nuts?

Wolf:  No.

Ace:  That’s right, I forgot. . . you don’t have any balls.

In pain, Tye tries to crawl to the ropes, perhaps even climb out of the ring for a breather, but Seth stalks along behind him, stomping his hands whenever they extend out past his body.

Wolf:  Tye trying to get to safety here, but it’s a little too late I’m afraid.

Ace:  Look at him!  He can’t even walk!  Do em in ole Seth!  Serve him up!  Service!

Finally Seth tires of this and brings Tye to his feet and shoves him into the corner.  He proceeds to work his ribs with a couple of lefts and rights, Tye dazed and taking every shot.  Seth backs away and as Tye stumble forwards Seth spins and this time hits Ty with a forehand shot to the abdomen. 

Wolf:  Massive forehand this time from Tye!  Look out!  Look out!

Tye doubles over and Seth bounces off the rope and elbows him right in the back of the head.

Wolf:  Match Point!  Match Point!  A massive, vicious elbow to the back of Tye’s head!  I think he’s out!  I think he’s out!  Seth goes for the cover!  1. . . 2. . . 3!

Ace:  Game, set, match!

Seth’s music begins to play as the referee goes over to him and lifts his arm in victory.  The crowd boos as Seth sucks air, tired from beating Tye’s ass.

Wolf:  Impressive debut here for Seth Stratton, Ace.

Ace:  There just may be more to this ex-tennis player than I thought Wolf.  Everyone better be on the look out for Seth Stratton—he’s a dirty fucker!  He’ll get you coming and going!

Wolf:  Not exactly a fair player, but he got the win tonight.  Well, I guess that’s all that really matters, right?

Ace:  In The Row?  You bet your ass it is.  Every win is another step toward a shot for The Death Row title, which, again fans, is being defended tonight in a triple threat barbed wire match!

Wolf:  Stay tuned for that one folks!  We’ve got two full hours of wrestling action for you here tonight, streaming live, and only at Deathrow.com

Why Am I Here?

The cameras catch up to “Beautiful” Bobby Dean in his designated locker room as Bobby Dean sits in front of his open locker, dressed and ready for his upcoming debut match. Judging by the look on his face, BBD is not looking to pleased as he glances around his accommodations, his agent and friend Jeremiah Sloan seated in a chair across the room, tweeting or texting or whatever it was he was doing on his phone.

BBD:  I don’t understand it Jay…

Jeremiah Sloan:  What don’t you understand Bobby?

Jay doesn’t even bother to look up from his phone as he asks.

BBD:  We’re in a shit hole, wrestling in front of how many people?

Sloan:  I don’t know, a few hundred? A thousand, perhaps a little more? Why, what’s it matter?

BBD:  Jay, I was main eventing in front of hundreds of thousands! Millions of people were buying the PPVs I was headlining. And now I feel like I’m at a birthday party wrestling in some kid’s backyard for all his little thumb sucking, snot nosed friends.

Dejected Bobby Dean slams his locker closed, and looks up at the ceiling like a man at a complete loss of words, looking back on his life. He suddenly asks the million dollar question that’s been plaguing him all afternoon and evening.

BBD:  Why the hell am I here?

Finally putting his phone down Jeremiah looks at Bobby with sympathy in his eyes. But being just as blunt as BBD, he admits the truth of the situation, in a way only Jay knows how.

Sloan:  Basically because you shit on everyone everywhere else, and Death Row is the only place that would accept your application…

BBD:  That’s not true, my good friend, Mike Best, could put in a good word for me over at HOW. I’m sure his pops, Lee Best, would jump at the chance to sign ole BBD.

Sloan:  I’m sure he would, then you’d go and piss him off and he’d can your ass in a heart beat. Plus, you’d end up having to run a program with Mike eventually, and, well, every time you and Mike square off he shows how you’re just not on the same level he is. I.E. Everything Begins Again.

BBD:  But, but, but have you seen the stuff these guys do!? Barbed wire, fire, glass, man, that one cat got stabbed in a match with an actual fucking knife!

Sloan:  Yeah, I couldn’t believe that either… I don’t think I’ve ever laughed so hard in my life!

BBD:  So tell me again, why the hell am I here?

The door to the locker room opens as some nameless backstage employee pokes his head in and gives him the count down.

Nameless Backstage Employee:  “Beautiful” Bobby Dean, you’re up next.

With Bobby Dean disappearing out the door, following the footsteps of the nameless backstage employee, Jay is left all alone in an empty locker room, so naturally he chooses that exact moment to finally answer the question.

Sloan:  You’re here to do what you always do; piss people off by not give the fans what they want to see.

"Beautiful" Bobby Dean vs. Tarrasque

Wolf:  Don’t you navigate away now, we’ve got us another match coming up right now with yet another debut. 

Ace:  I still can’t get over that Tennis Freak.  He’d screw over his own Grandmother!

Wolf:  There’s no doubt about that Ace. . .  Well, next up we’ve got a man they call “Beautiful” Bobby Dean.  If this guy is as good as he says he is, Ace, the rest of The Row might be in trouble.

Ace:  Well, guys do come and go here in The Row.  We’ve got us a 60% drop out rate!  Pussies need not apply!  If you hate the sight of your own blood, there’s the door, don’t let it hit you on the ass on the way out!

Wolf:  Amen to that Ace, but is Bobby a pussy, or not?

Ace:  This man is a former eGG Bandit. . .  So maybe.

Wolf:  But they say he’s the best around, Ace!

You’re the Best Around, by Joe Esposito starts up and those that recognize the tune cheer.

Ace:  Man this brings back memories, Wolf.  SWEEP THE LEG!  But sensei… SWEEP THE LEG!

Wolf:  Yes folks, if this tune sounds familiar, it’s the song from none other than the original Karate Kid.  Hopefully some of our viewers are old enough to have seen it.  They should… after all we aren’t PG.

Ace:  My Karate Kid is Italian.  Not Black.  Why do movies always have to do that?

The Death Row community gets its first view of Bobby Dean, and it is a doozy.  The ‘beautiful’ one emerges from behind the curtain wearing a blue sequin robe.  He raises his arms out, allowing everyone a good look at what he believes is a perfect specimen.  The crowd begins to boo, the men finding him to be a pompous asshole, the women not seeming very impressed.  When he’s sure they’ve gotten a good eye full he adds a pelvic thrust for good measure.

Wolf:  Well some choice maneuvers here from Bobby Dean.

Ace:  That reminds me, you gonna go see Magic Mike?  I’ve heard some rave reviews.

Wolf:  What was that Ace?!

Ace:  Nothing. . . nothing. . .

Bobby Dean begins his walk to the ring his arms out at his sides, opening his robe a tad, showing the muscles underneath.  He spins around allowing everyone a three hundred and sixty degree look at him, and he climbs into the ring.  He raises his shoulders in the center of the ring and the robe slides off.  He then places his hands over his heads and wiggles his hips.  When he’s done he’s satisfied at least half a dozen women in the crowd have already creamed their panties.

Ladies and Gentlemen by Salvia comes in through the arena, and the crowd pops. 

Wolf:  His opponent is the only surviving monster left in The Row.  He took out Maynard Crane in a cage match allowing him such distinction. . .  He’s the quote super soldier unquote of the Warhammer Corporation. . . He often rips the heads off of chickens. . . I’m talking about Tarrasque of course, Ace.

Ace:  Yes fans, he loves his protein, and his preferred means of getting it is by eating raw meat.  Any part of the cow, just give it to him and watch out.  You think he goes through bone too?

Wolf:  I don’t see why not. . .

As Tarrasque emerges the more blood thirsty of the fans in Mississippi start to cheer.  With the eyes of a beast he looks out on the crowd, and before roaring spits out a piece of gristle from a recently devoured raw t-bone. 

Ace:  You think Tarrasque ever bites the hand that feeds him?

Wolf:  What do you mean, Ace?

Ace:  Like, you think Tarrasque ever gets wise to the fact Allen Anderson is just using him?

Wolf:  Doubtful.  They’ve probably programmed it into Tarrasque’s head never to question his superiors.  But lookee here Ace.  Where’s Allen Anderson?

Ace:  No Anderson?  The beast is coming out without his trainer?  Everyone run for your lives!

Tarrasque makes his way to the ring, looking different without Allen Anderson with him.  When he reaches the ring Tarrasque reaches up and pulls himself up to the apron.  He then steps over the top rope, looking Bobby Dean directly in the eyes.

Wolf:  The eyes of an animal, Ace.

Ace:  Tarrasque fight!  Tarrasque fight pretty man now.  No lose!

Wolf:  I’ll let Tarrasque know you’ve been mocking him…

Ace:  Nooo!

Announcer:  Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall aand has a twenty minute time limit. . . introducing first, from Houston, Texas. . .  weighing two hundred and four and a half pounds. . . he is The Name That Entertains,  “Beautiful,” Booobbyyyy Deeeeaaann!”

The crowd boos as Bobby raises his arms, adding a couple of pelvic thrusts.

Announcer:  And his opponent, in this corner, from Akira, China, weighing in at two hundred and eighty-five pounds, he is. . .  Taaarrrraaaassqueee!”

The crowd cheers Tarrasque as the monster and his opponent meet in the center of the ring.

The bell rings and Bobby Dean circles the ring, assessing Tarrasque, who stands in the center of the ring.  Tarrasque’s chest heaves as he breathes, gorging oxygen.

Wolf:  What has Bobby got to do against a monster like this?  I mean he can’t match his power, can he Ace?

Ace:  He’s gotta pray Wolf.  It’s all he can do.

Bobby Dean bounces off the ropes and charges Tarrasque, hitting him with his shoulder as he passes, but Tarrasque keeps his ground.  Bobby Dean looks at Tarrasque, who roars, and in response Bobby Dean grinds his hips.

Wolf:  My God its like running into a brick wall!

Ace:  Hey, here’s a fun drinking game for all of you alcoholics, take a shot every time Tarrasque roars!

Determined Bobby Dean bounces off the ropes again this time hitting Tarrasque with a dropkick to the knee.  The beast stumbles, but does not fall, the dropkick seeming to only anger Tarrasque more.  Tarrasque lets out a roar.

Wolf:  Well a dropkick right to the knee and this beast is still standing!

Ace:  That’s what he’s got to do Wolf.  He’s got to try and incapacitate Tarrasque.  Use his speed and smarts to overcome Tarrasque’s brawn.

Wolf:  Bobby Dean off the ropes once more!  Look, he slips right through Tarrasque’s legs!

Bobby Dean bounces off the ropes and as Tarrasque tries to grab him he evades it by sliding through the monsters legs.  Bobby quickly roles to his feet, and before Tarrasque has a chance to turn around Bobby Dean tackles his knee, finally taking the monster down.

Ace:  Fee Fi Fo Fum, Tarrasque just fell on his big fat bum!

Wolf:  Bobby Dean has got him down!

Immediately Bobby Dean starts stomping Tarrasque’s knee, each stomp bringing a grimace to the face of Tarrasque.  Grabbing his leg Bobby Dean rolls Tarrasque onto his belly and applies a single legged Boston crab.  Tarrasque, in the center of the ring reaches toward the ropes as Bobby Dean wrenches back, applying pressure.

Wolf:  Impressive Boston crab by Bobby, but can Tarrasque get to the ropes before his leg is snapped clean off?

Ace:  You can’t snap a leg like that off.  Look at Tarrasque’s thighs!  They’re as big across as a man’s chest!

Tarrasque tries desperately to get him to the ropes, his despair doubled by the knowledge of the fact that had Allen Anderson come to the ring with him, he would be there to encourage him in his time of need.

Tarrasque lets out a roar and uses his very own leg to toss Bobby Dean off of him. 

Wolf:  Uh Oh I think he just pissed him off Ace!

Ace:  In case you drunks missed it, Tarrasque roared again—time for another shot!

Bobby Dean scrambles to his feet as Tarrasque gets up himself, favoring his left leg.  Dean charges Tarrasque and tries to take him down with a cross body, but Tarrasque just catches him, holding him across his chest.  Tarrasque roars.

Wolf:  Look at the strength, Ace!  He just caught Bobby Dean like it was nothing!

Ace:  Just like snatching at flys Wolf.  Must be all that raw beef he had before the match!

Wolf:  Tarrasque just tossed Bobby Dean over his head like it was nothing!

Tarrasque tosses Bobby Dean, using his hips to toss him over his head.  Bobby hits the mat with a loud thud and Tarrasque roars at the sound.  Turning around he picks up Bobby and places his hand violently around Bobby’s throat.

Wolf:  Tarrasque with that huge mitt of a hand wrapped all around Bobby’s throat.  He lifts him, choke slam!  Massive choke slam from Tarrasque.

Ace:  Bobby’s not looking too good. 

Tarrasque punches Bobby in the face with one of his huge fists, but Bobby keeps the hold.  After another blow the hold is released and Tarrasque quickly crawls to the corner of the ring, looking to pull himself up.  Bobby is up first and heads over toward Tarrasque, pulling his hair to lift him up.  Tarrasque in desperation grabs Bobby from the back of his knees and pulls his legs out from under him, slamming him to the mat.

Wolf:  Both man down here, in our second match of the evening.

Ace:  We’ve still got more action to go, though I’m afraid the evening might be over for one these men soon.

Tarrasque gets up gingerly, and as Bobby gets up he picks him up into a press position, and then slams Bobby back down the width of his thigh.  Bobby crumples, but so does Tarrasque.

Wolf:  Massive back breaker from Tarrasque, but again he used that injured leg to hurt his opponent.  We’re all seeing how dense Tarrasque really is without Allen Anderson tonight.

Ace:  Yeah, where is he?  Doesn’t he realize this might cost Tarrasque the match?

Wolf:  Punishment for running away and having a night out on the town perhaps?

Tarrasque stumbles to his feet and a Bobby Dean gets to his feet he kicks him in the abdomen.  Bent over, Tarrasque grabs Bobby and slams him to the mat with a power bomb.

Wolf:  Power bomb by Tarrasque, Bobby Dean looks like he’s in trouble.

Ace:  Tarrasque sure put the power in power bomb with that one.

Bobby sells the powerbomb, but Tarrasque doesn’t go for the cover.

Wolf:  What’s he doing, go for the cover you big ape!

Instead Tarrasque picks up Bobby and lifts him over his head in a military press, showing his strength.  He lets out a roar before dropping Bobby face first on the mat.  Bobby lies motionless on the mat as Tarrasque soaks up the cheers of the crowd.

Ace:  He is human after all Wolf.  It’s like that they say, all you need is love, and Tarrasque is sure getting it now.

Wolf:  Wait, what’s Bobby doing?

Bobby can be seen reaching in his tights.  His hands reach in and looking around he hands his hands from the referee.  Tarrasque turns and brings Bobby to his feet, and get’s a massive right from Bobby.  Tarrasque falls like a tree and Bobby quickly covers.

Wolf:  No!  No!  We’ve got a cover. . . 1 . . . 2. . . 3! 

Ace:  Bobby wins Bobby wins!

Wolf:  I’m just disgusted.  Is the ref blind?  It’s as plain as day.  Bobby had some weapon in his possession.

Ace:  You’re seeing things Wolf.

A replay shows, showing Bobby reaching into his pants and placing something on his hands.

Wolf:  Really Ace?  What’s he doing there?  What’s he doing?

Ace:  Hey, sometimes, as a man you’ve got to make adjustments.  Bobby’s wang was probably in the way or something.

Wolf:  Right Ace… Right…  Well I don’t like it, but Bobby Dean is your winner. 

Ace:  And rightfully so.  He’s the best around.

Wolf:  More like the worst around, I’m disgusted.

Reaction to the Match

Tarrasque rolls out of the ring without much fanfare. Without even lifting his head from looking at the floor except to check where he is going, Tarrasque heads towards the back.

Wolf:  Defeated by FJ Tombs and then Bobby Dean, Tarrasque seems to be sliding way down after his first victory against the now missing, Maynard Crane.
 
Ace:  That's what happens when you get your ass kicked! Maynard would have beat him too if not for that sucky ref!
 
Wolf:  That's not fair. Tarrasque defeated Maynard fair and square. He's just on bit of a downstreak.
 
Tarrasque walks sullenly to the back until he gets to the entranceway when he is greeted by a sight. "The Brain" Allen Anderson stands there with a Shocktrooper on either side of him, though this time at least they are unarmed. Anderson has a microphone in his hand.
 
Anderson:  If you would have just accepted the punishment I gave you and not escaped? You might be in the ring right now and celebrating your victory. Now? You have proven yourself to be a failure. To be despised. Punished. Are you coming with me now to take what's coming to you so you can prove yourself as strong? Or do I need to make more friends of your's vanish?”
 
Tarrasque looks up at Anderson, his expression one of hurt and shock.
 
Eventually, he just gives up. “Me come. Me weak.”
 
Anderson grins. “I know. I know. It is justice.”
 
Wolf:  Should we be just sitting here while Anderson leads Tarrasque away to tortures that are just too horrible to imagine?”
 
Ace:  Who cares. He should have taken his medicine right in the first place!

Tha Krew vs. The Untouchables

Wolf:  What the night we’ve had so far, Ace, with two impressive debuts.  Seth Stratton of course defeating fellow newcomer Tye Plaisance, and Bobby Dean defeating the monster Tarrasque.

Ace:  I’m a big Bobby Dean fan already.

Wolf:  You would be. . . Well we’ve got some tag action up next, with Tim Ross’s muscle, Tha Krew, competing with The Untouchables.

Ace:  The Untouchables are in need for a serious name change, Wolf.  These guys have done nothing but get thrown about the ring since entering The Row.

Wolf:  Maybe the name refers to their sex life?

Ace:  You’re probably right Wolf, they can’t get none!

Wolf:  Will they prove us wrong tonight, or will Tha Krew further prove The Untouchables are indeed anything but?

Ace:  Will if history tells us anything, it’s gonna be the latter, Wolf.

2 of Americaz Most Wanted, by Tupac featuring Snoop Dogg starts up and the crowd cheers.  After a few moments their cheers grow even louder as Leon Williams and Wes Payton emerge from behind the curtain, the men known collectively as Tha Krew.  After a few moments Tim Ross appears behind them smiling.

Ace:  Its Da Boss! 

Tha Krew begins its decent down to the ring, doing their best to look hard.  As they reach the ring Leon Williams climbs in, followed by Wes Payton.  Tim Ross walks around the ring and joins Wolf and Ace at the commentators table.

Wolf:  Well it appears we’ve got ourselves a guest for this match.

Ace:  Welcome Boss!

Tim Ross is seen putting on a headset, sitting to the left of Waylon and Ace.

Ross:  I thought you niggas could use a little help with dis match.

Ace:  Thanks Boss!  The more the merrier… You know, you’ve done a great job with The Row—Tha Krew has been a wonderful addition.

Ross:  Yeah they some tough niggas, and in The Row you need some protection.

Ace:  You know, as soon as The Row started up I felt we needed a Wesley Snipes type. . . and now we’ve got Wes Payton.

Ross:  Yeah that nigga sure looks like Wesley Snipes.  But unlike Wesley Snipes my nigga Wes aint been to jail for pussy shit like tax evasion.

‘More Human Than Human’ rips through the PA system as the crowd cheers.  Jeff Andrews immediately stroms through the curtains with his fists raised overhead.  Soon, the other half of the Untouchables, appears, Ronnie Long, who stands atop the stage, raising his arms in the crucifix pose.

Wolf:  Well, here they come ladies and gentlemen, The Untouchables, who have not won a match yet.  Last week of course they had the night off.

Ross:  I outta fire these niggas. 

Ace:  Well you are Da Boss.  Whatever decision you make, I’m sure it’ll be a good one.

Ross:  Shit nigga, get yo tongue outta my ass.

Wolf:  Told yah Ace…

The Untouchables head down to the ring, Ronnie Long climbing into the ring first, followed by Jeff Andrews.  Once in the ring, Tha Krew quickly attacks them.

Ross:  My niggas!  Ring the damn bell!

The bell rings, as the teams have paired off, Wes Payton fighting Jeff Andrews and Leon Williams squaring off with Ronnie Long!

Wolf:  We’ve got pandemonium folks!  The ref is gonna have a hell of a time getting this all sorted out!

Ace:  Aww just let em fight it out!

Ross:  You know I like the way you think, playa.

Wes Payton can be seen punching Jeff Andrews in one corner of the ring.  On the opposite side of the ring, Leon Williams is doing the same, laying into Ronnie Long who stands prone in the corner of the ring.  Wes Payton looks back, saying something to Leon.  Leon hears it, and both men irish whip their opponents to the center of the ring, causing Ronnie Long and Jeff Andrews to collide with one another in the center of the ring.

Ross:  Look at dis niggas, running into one another!

Ace:  Not so untouchable that they can hurt one another!

Ronnie Long and Jeff Andrews stagger back, and Wes Payton comes out of the corner with a huge clothesline, knocking Jeff Andrews to the ground.  Leon Williams takes his opportunity and drop kicks Ronnie Long to the mat.  With both men down, the referee orders Leon Williams out of the ring.  Protesting, Leon Williams heads to Tha Krews neutral corner and waits on the apron.  Meanwhile Ronnie Long rolls out of the ring.

Wolf:  Finally, we’ve got ourselves a legitimate tag match!

Ross:  The Untouchables are still in for trouble, playa.

Wes Payton crawls over to Jeff, still on the mat and goes for the cover.

Wolf:  We’ve got a pin, 1. . . 2. . . no Jeff kicks out!  Kick out my Jeff.

Ross:  That’s alright, my nigga aint done with him yet.

Ace:  Yeah, The Untouchables are still breathing!  Come on Krew!

Ross:  Ace, my nigga… What did I say about sticking yo tongue up my ass?

Wes Payton brings Jeff Andrews to his feet and tosses him into the corner.  He then tags Leon Williams who quickly enters the ring.  Wes Payton tosses Jeff into the ropes and upon his return lifts him into the air.  Leon then runs off the ropes and drop kicks Jeff just as Wes drops him to the matt.

Wolf:  What a tag team move their from Tha Krew!  What do you call that, Ross?

Ross:  I call that fuckin’ a nigga up.

Wolf:  Well fair enough! 

Leon Williams then brings Jeff to his feet and taunts the crowd.  The two lock up and quickly Leon gains the upper hand.  He then kicks Jeff in the abdomen and hooks his head, slamming him to the matt with a DDT.

Ross:  There goes your head, my nigga.

Wolf:  That DDT just planted Jeff face first into the mat!

Leon Williams stomps Jeff twice in the back of the head and then goes for the tag.  Leon hooks Jeff’s arm over his shoulder, Wes hooks the other arm, and they both bring Jeff to the mat with a double suplex.

Wolf:  This is classic tag team wrestling, Ace.

Ace:  I love Tha Krew!

Ross:  Yeah, my niggas are trying to make a name for themselves.  They best watch out though, if they thinkin’ bout takin’ over my federation!

Leon exits the ring as Wes Payton goes to work.  He picks up Jeff and tosses him into the ropes, when he returns he slams him into the mat with a sky-high.

Ross:  My nigga Wes, used to be homies with D-Lo Brown.

Ace:  I thought that move looked familiar, hey hey we’ve got a pin!

Wes scrambles over Jeff and goes for the pin.

Wolf:  1. . . 2. . . kick out by Jeff!

Jeff sells the sky-high as Wes stands over him, laughing.  Wes then picks up Jeff and works him into the corner of the ring, where Leon is waiting for the tag.  He punches Jeff a few times in his face and then makes the tag.

Wolf:  Another kick tag for The Krew, keeping fresh, keeping fresh.

Ace:  Meanwhile Ronnie Long is combing his hair!  He’s been turned into yet another spectator tonight.

Wolf:  Jeff is gonna have to get the tag in if The Untouchables have any chance tonight.

Wes runs to the other corner of the ring and then charges Jeff, hitting him with a body splash in the corner.  Jeff comes stumbling out of the corner and Leon Williams catches him.  Leon grabs his face and slams him to the mat with a reverse Russian leg sweep.

Ace:  Jeff just got a face full of mat!

Ross:  My nigga.

Wolf:  The Untouchables are in trouble here, well, to be more specific Jeff Andrews is in trouble, as Ronnie Long hasn’t had a chance to wrestle yet tonight.

Ace:  And that’s what you’ve got to do Wolf.  You’ve got to isolate the man in the ring from his partner.  All the work you put in with one man is taken away when he tags in a fresh partner.

Ross:  Don’t you worry none, Ronnie Long won’t be getting’ in da ring anytime soon.  Believe that.

Leon reaches down and hooks Jeff around the chin, pulling back.

Wolf:  Rear chin lock here from Leon!  Jeff is all alone in the center of the ring!

Ross:  Yeah, that nigga is fucked, Wolf.

Leon wrenches back, and the referee comes and checks in on Jeff.  Jeff shakes his head and seems to struggle with his breathing.  Leon keeps the hold, and after long Jeff’s eyes begin to get heavy, fluttering in the ring.

Wolf:  Leon is taking the life out of Jeff!  He may not have any left!

The ref checks on Jeff, but he doesn’t respond.  Looking a round the ref reaches for Jeff and lifts his arm.  His arm rises and falls to the mat, without any resistance.  The ref lifts his arms once more, and again his arm falls to the mat, his hand hitting the mat.

Wolf:  Jeff is out!  Jeff is out!

Fed up, Ronnie Long enters the ring and kicks Leon to the back of the head, causing him to drop the hold.  Jeff hits the mat with a thud.  The ref gets up in Ronnie’s face, trying to hold him back and out of the ring, but meanwhile Wes Payton has gotten into the ring and his helping stomp a seemingly lifeless Jeff Andrews.

Ross:  That’s how we do boys.

Wolf:  They’re beating a defenseless man!  This is wrong!

Ross:  Wrong?  What’s wrong is calling yo’self Untouchable when you aint.

Ace:  Yeah Wolf!  Who are you all of a sudden?  A saint?

Ross:  Ace… last warning my nigga.  Only women get to toss mah salad.

Wes Payton exits the ring as the referee turns around.  Leon picks up Jeff, but Jeff just falls over.  Laughing Leon looks to the crowd and to Wes Payton.

Wolf:  Pin him!  Pin him!  He’s obviously out.

Ace:  It’s been nothing but offense from Tha Krew tonight.

Ross:  What the fuck did you niggas expect?

Leon Williams taunts Ronnie, and as Ronnie tries to get into the ring the ref goes to his corner and holds him back.  With his back turned Wes enters the ring and he and Leon choke Ronnie in the corner. 

Ross:  That ref is one dumb fuck.  I outta fire him too!

Ace:  I don’t care Ross, as long as you don’t fire me!

Ross:  I’ve been thinkin’ about it, my nigga.

Ace:  Oh please don’t!  I’ll do anything!

Ross:  And that’s why I been thinkin’ ‘bout it.  You’re a real desperate nigga, aint yah?

Ace:  What you call desperation I call dedication!

Ross:  Ha I like that.

Wolf:  Nice save there, Ace.

Wes Payton again leaves the ring as the referee turns around, raising his hands in innocence.  Leon makes the tag.  Wes Payton enters and lifts Jeff and places him in the corner.  Without the aid of the turnbuckle he can hardly stand.  Standing back Wes throws some calculated punches at Jeff, each blow knocking him against the turnbuckle.

Wolf:  This is sick!  He’s using the turnbuckle to hold Jeff up!  He can’t stand on his own two.

Ace:  It’s like beating a cripple!  I love it!

Wolf:  You would, Ace… You would.

Wes then tags Leon, who enters the ring.  Wes throws Jeff into the ropes, and upon returning he lifts him then falls back.  While falling back Leon hooks his head.

Wolf:  187!  187!

Ross:  . . . on an undercover cop!

Ace:  What a move ladies and gentlemen!

Ross:  You betta believe it, dis shit is ovah.

Leon goes for the pin as Wes runs to Ronnie and knocks him out of the ring.  The ref his the mat and goes for the count.

Wolf:  1. . . 2. . . 3!!  Tha Krew has won it!  Tha Krew has won their first match here in Death Row Wrestling.

Ross:  Of course they did, these are two tough niggas.  Now if you’ll excuse me.

Ross gets up and leaves the table. . .

Tha Mothafuckin' Best

The Untouchables slide out of the ring grabbing their heads.  Dejectedly the walk up the ramp, passing Tim Ross who mockingly slaps them each on the back.  Laughing, he climbs into the ring, real business like, congratulating his crew before leaning over the ropes and asking for a mic. 

Wolf:  Well looks like da boss has something to say here.

Ace:  Open your ears, it’s not every day you get to hear from greatness.

Wolf:  Hey Ace?

Ace:  Yeah Wolf?

Wolf:  Get your tongue out of the boss’ ass, would you?

The crowd buzzes as Ross gets his mic.  He smiles and brings it to his lips.

Ross:  Now how ‘bout that shit?  You mothafuckas like that?

The crowd cheers.

Ross:  I know, I know, I liked that shit too. . . Well I aint gonna talk your mothafuckin’ ear off, my nigga here has got somethin’ to say.

Tim Ross takes the mic, and smiling lifts it up to Wes Payton’s face.  Wes is breathing heavy from the match, his words coming up through his gulps for air.

Wes Payton:  What you just saw. . .

Pant, pant, pant.

Wes Payton:  Was a fuckin eg-zample. . .

‘Yeah, yeah, an egzample,’ Leon Williams can be heard saying in the background, like a parrot.

Wes Payton:  A fucking eg-zample. . . of what happens when. . . you fuck with Da Krew. . .  Any of you niggas out there think you can step up and handle dis, then step the fuck up. . . We are the best tag team. . . in dis whole federation.  And for a fuckin reason nigga.  Aint nobody can stop us.  Nobody.

‘Yeah, yeah, nobody!’  Leon parrots.

Wes Payton:  Not them niggas the H-Town Hustlas, not the Untouchables, not Facture, not nobody.  All you other niggas better be on the look-out, cause me and Leon here, well we’s lookin for a little respect.

‘Yeah, yeah, respect!’  Leon says.

Wes Payton:  You niggas aint scared enough of us.  You see us out in the back and you don’t even cower.  You don’t do nothing.  And that aint right.  We’re da boss’s muscle, and if you don’t believe it, you best believe it, cuz if you don’t my boy Leon here will snatch yo asshole out.

‘Yeah yeah!  Yo asshole!”

Wes Payton:  And if you didn’t know, now you know, cause dat shit was on da real.

Wes Payton stares into the camera before turning to exit the ring.  Tim Ross smiles, holding his hands out.  He drops the mic and leads his men out of the ring.

Wolf:  Well there you have it folks, Tha Krew is here, and they seem to mean business.

Ace:  You’d have to be pretty stupid to mess with Tim Ross by himself, but with all that muscle protecting him he’s practically untouchable.  I don’t even think Tarrasque would mess with Da Boss!

FJ Tombs vs. Cort Vang

Ace:  So I says to her, get on top honey.

Wolf:  Yeah?

Ace:  Yeah, and even with no legs that bitch crawled on top of me and went to work.

Wolf:  Huh. . . what?  Wait—what?  We’re on?  Oh we’re on!  Welcome back everyone, to Death Row, live from Mississippi!

Ace:  And if you think I called her after, you’re wrong.

Wolf:  Shh Ace, we got work to do. . . Up next we’ve got FJ Tombs and Cort Vang, two men that are very familiar with one another here in The Row.  They have fought time and time again.

Ace:  Yeah, haven’t we had this match already?

Wolf:  Cort Vang, the wrestler formerly known as Pyroclastic Youth was in the initial title hunt with everyone else, the culmination of the tournament being a triple threat match between Tombs, Cort Vang, and current Death Row Champ, Dark.

Ace:  Hey, he may be former Death Row Champ after the barbed wire match tonight.  But yeah, these fellas know each other, I don’t expect any feeling out tonight.  Once that bell rings we’ll be getting straight to the action.  Young punks jumping on red necks, red necks chopping down young punks like cows at the ole family slaughter house.

Wolf:  Tombs of course coming off a big win against Tarrasque, while his opponent tonight was out for two weeks after Death From Above.

Ace:  That’s right Wolf, Death From Above nearly lived up to its name after The Spectre reared his ugly purple haired head and showed up in a monster truck, knocking both Dark and Cort Vang off the scaffolding!  Neither men have been known to fly, and as a result both went SPLAT.  The real question here is if Cort Vang is a hundred percent, and surely we’ll have to wonder the same thing about Dark later here tonight.

Wolf:  He seems alright Ace, but you know Cort, he’s unpredictable.  An ever changing wrestler.

“Kiss My Country Ass” bursts over the PA, and the crowd in Mississippi rises to their feet, to cheer on none other than FJ Tombs.  After awhile he emerges out from behind the curtain, donned in his usual wrestling gear.  The crowd cheers and Tombs looks out on the crowd with a smile on his face.

Wolf:  This guy is loved everywhere he goes Ace.

Ace:  Yeah, it makes me absolutely sick.  No one can be that sickly sweet.  Tomb must have some skeletons in his closet.

Wolf:  Everyone’s got skeletons. . . for instance I killed a man once.

Ace:  Yeah. . . wait, what?

Tombs points to one half of the stadium, and on command they all start to cheer.  Tombs nods his head, as if to say ‘yeah that was satisfactory,’ and then turns to the other side of the arena.  He smiles, looking around, and then points at their half of the arena and they cheer even louder. 

Wolf:  I shot him in the head. . .

Tombs begins his walk down the ramp to the ring, the fans in the first row reaching out to touch them.  Being so ‘sickly sweet,’ as Ace puts it, he reaches out and slaps their hands on his way to the ring.

Wolf:  Cut him up into 6 pieces. . .

Tombs reaches the steps and looks around at the fans cheering, as if he’s looking for yet another mean-spirited sign directed towards him.  But he see’s none and climbs into the ring laughing a little.

Wolf:  And buried him in the desert.

Ace:  You’re not serious are you Wolf?

Wolf:  Tombs looking ready for his match tonight.  After beating Tarrasque I’d feel pretty invincible too, Ace.

Ace:  Wolf?

Wolf:  Tombs, Cort, another classic match Death Row fans.  Be sure to stick around for this one, and as always, be sure to tweet and follow us along on Twitter.  I’d like to once again wish you a Happy Fourth of July, hope you’re having a safe, bloody, explosive Fourth of July.

Ace:  Wolf?

Wolf:  Stop being so rude Ace, and wish the people a happy Fourth.

Ace:  Oh. . . happy fourth. . .

The lights in the DeSoto Civic Center brighten, as ‘Crucified’ bounces off the eardrums of the Death Row faithful.  Cort Van whips through the curtain without thermos or the usual fast paced energy of past Lethal Injections.  He stretches his arms out in mockery of crucifixion.

Wolf:  Cort, as we mentioned, took that horrendous fall off the scaffolding at Death from the Above.  Many feared he’d even be able to finish out the rest of the year—no one expected him to come back that quickly.

Ace:  Well he’s not the sharpest knife in the drawer, and he’s not as old as Dark.  When you’re young the body can recuperate a lot faster.  Take a washed up drunk like Dark, and these things take time.  But with a young guy he can bounce right back. 

Wolf:  Youth is always wasted on the young.

Ace:  Everyone seems young to you Wolf, because you’re 800 years old.

Cort walks down the ring with purpose.  As he reaches the steps he looks out on the crowd as the chant starts up:

YOU CAN’T READ clap clap clapclapclap YOU CAN’T READ clap clap clapclapclap YOU CAN’T READ. . .

Cort immediately bursts with anger.  He shouts at the crowd, getting in the faces of those in the front row, saying things we cannot hear but are no doubt threatening.  Being unable to read he starts grabbing at random signs, signs that say things like HI MOM and DEATH TO DEATH ROW, and tears them in half, thinking they are all about him. 

Ace:  Cort must hate his mother!

Wolf:  He can’t read, remember?

The chanting continues, and Cort looks to Tombs who’s laughing along with everyone else.  Cort angrily slides into the ring and gets in Tombs face.  Tombs continues to laugh.

Wolf:  Well the fans are provoking Cort Vang here, I don’t know if that’s a good idea.  The One Man Misdemeanor is not someone you want to upset. . .

Ace:  He really can’t read?  Someone get him some Hooked on Phonics!

Announcer:  Ladies and Gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall and has a thirty minute time limit.  Introducing first, from Athens, Texas, weighing in at two hundred and seventy-five pounds, he is F. . . J. . . TOOOOMMMBBBS!”

The crowd cheers and FJ flexes his muscles for the crowd to see.  When he is done the crowd quiets down and the announcer continues:

Announcer:  And his opponent, from St. Helens, Oregon, weighing in at two hundred and nineteen pounds, he is The One Man Misdemeanor, Cort Vaaaannnggg!”

A mixed reaction comes from the crowd, a few fans even continuing the YOU CAN’T READ chant.  Cort and Tombs face one another in the center of the ring.

Wolf:  Who have you got in this one, Ace?

Ace:  I don’t know, both men are proven warriors here in The Row. . .

The bell rings and immediately Cort tries to tie up with Tombs, but Tombs is ready for it and kicks Cort in the midsection. 

Wolf:  Several kicks to the midsection here courtesy of Tombs.  You were right Ace, these two just shot right out of the gates!

Ace:  Let the pain begin!

Cort bends over and Tombs hits him over the head once, twice, one more time, and Cort drops to his knees.  Tombs then pulls Cort to his feet by his knot and gets him in a standing headlock in the center of the ring.

Wolf:  Tombs testing Cort here, there no way he can be 100% after Death From Above.

The referee checks in on Cort, but Cort shakes his head.  Cort punches Tombs in the stomach, then again, then once more.  He pushes Tombs into the ropes and as he returns Tombs runs straight into Cort, knocking him over with a shoulder block.

Wolf:  Tombs with the impressive shoulder block here.  If Cort wants to survive he’s gonna have to use those deadly kicks of his.

Ace:  Yeah, hey, Cort should be coming out to that song from Karate Kid, not Bobby!

Tombs quickly runs off the ropes for momentum and goes for the elbow drop, but hits nothing but matt as Cort rolls out of the way.  Tombs rises and Cort kicks him in the back of the right leg, Tombs staggers.  Cort then kicks Tombs in the back of his right leg. 

Ace:  Has Cort got an earpiece in?  He’s taking your advice perfectly.

Wolf:  I’m not saying. . .

Cort flips Tombs over and kicks him once stiff in the spine.  Tombs grimaces only to get a dropkick to the back of the head courtesy of Cort.  Cort then scrambles to the matt and covers Tombs.

Wolf:  We’ve got a pin, 1. . . 2. . . No!  Tombs is too close to the ropes!

Ace:  What a rookie mistake there by Cort, you’ve got to know where you are in the ring at all times, Wolf.

Cort lifts Tombs to his feet, gives him a swift elbow to the back of the head, but Tombs is unfazed and responds with a left haymaker.  Cort staggers and to finish him off Tombs raises his boot and connects with Cort’s face.  Cort hits the mat grabbing his face.

Wolf:  Listen to this crowd Ace!  They just love this guy.

Ace:  Pardon while I vomit!  This guy probably pisses lemonade!  I’m tellin you he’s too sweet!

Wolf:  He’s survived The Row so far Ace, that says something.

Tombs saunters over to Cort, bringing him slowly to his feet by the knot at the back of his head.  Tombs hits Cort with a left haymaker, the force of the blow bringing Cort to the mat.  Tombs stomps Cort in the back and then picks him up, wringing his right arm.

Wolf:  Submission here by Tombs, showing he’s not just a brawling cowboy.

Cort reverses the hold, in doing so wringing Tombs arm.  Cort then bends Tombs at the waist and places his leg over Tombs’ right shoulder.  With his other leg he spins and kicks Tombs straight in the face.  Tombs falls and hits the mat.

Ace:  That’s a high impact offensive, Wolf.  I’d hate to get a Cort Vang kick to the face.

Cort goes for the cover.

Wolf:  Cort going for another pin here!  Get on it ref!  1. . . 2. . . No kick out!  Tombs kicks out!

Both men get up, Tombs taking refuge in the corner.  The crowd cheers him on as he rubs his head and tries to get the cobwebs out.  Not wasting anytime, Cort ascends upon him and promptly elbows Tombs in the face. 

Ace:  Look out its raining elbows Wolf!

Wolf:  Tombs in trouble in the corner, taking every shot!

Cort elbows Tombs again, and again, three or four times before stepping back and dropkicking Tombs right in the chest.

Wolf:  What’s this, what’s Cort doing? 

Cort runs to the opposite corner, and then charges Tombs, building up speed.  With his momentum he runs and uses Tombs’ own knee to jump up and kick him in the face.

Wolf:  Shinning Wizard!  Shinning Wizard by Cort!

Tombs stumbles out of the corner as the crowd pops to the massive blow, and falls comically flat on his face.  Cort then covers Tombs.

Wolf:  Yet another pin attempt by Cort!  1. . . 2. . . No, kickout!

Tombs starts to get to his feet, but Cort applies a side headlock.  Tombs progress however is not stopped, and Tombs reaches his feet, with Cort still clinging to his head. 

Wolf:  Tombs pushes Cort, Cort is up against the ropes. Cort returns, Tombs with the big boot—no, Cort ducks!

Cort stops dead in his tracks.  Tombs turns around and charges, and Cort catches him, flipping him over with a Japanese arm drag. 

Wolf:  Arm drag by Cort!  But Cort keeps his hold on Tombs!  He’s wrenching his arm on the mat!

Ace:  What?  I thought Cort didn’t have much of a ground game.

Tombs quickly gets out of it and lands a stiff right to Cort’s face. 

Ace:  Oh ok.  He still doesn’t.

Tombs then grabs Cort by the left arm and pulls him toward himself.  He goes for the clothesline but Cort ducks, and Tombs turns around just in time to get a kick to the side of the head from Cort.

Wolf:  Massive kick from Cort!  Look at those educated feet Ace!

Ace:  That’s Cort’s problem, his feet are smarter than his head.

Tombs staggers backwards, inching closer to the ropes.  Cort charges Tombs, drop kicking him out of the ring.

Wolf:  Tombs goes flying out of the ring now. 

Tombs sprawls around on the floor trying to regain his feet as Cort amps himself up for a dive outside of the ring.  The fans come alive with anticipation.

Ace:  High risk time.  This kid don’t know when to quit!

Wolf:  I sure love it though, don’t you Ace?

Tombs starts to get to his feet as Cort turns in the opposite direction, runs and bounces off the ropes for extra momentum and upon returning dives right through the ropes with a suicide dive.

Wolf:  My God the suicide dive!

The momentum of the dive carries them into the announcers table nearby.

Ace:  Well there’s a reason they call it a suicide dive.  I think Cort just hurt himself more than he hurt Tombs!

Cort gets to his feet, selling the injury, and then picks up Tombs and throws him into the ring.  Cor tthen climbs the ropes and dives off with a cross body.

Wolf:  We’ve got yet another pin after that cross body!  1. . . 2. . . kickout!  Tombs kicks out!

Tombs gets to his feet, as Cort does as well.  Cort goes for a kick to the kidneys but Tombs blocks it and in desperation tosses Cort out of the ring with one easy throw over the top rope.

Wolf:  Tombs doesn’t know Cort didn’t fall out of the ring!  He doesn’t see him standing there Ace!

Ace:  Well, Tombs is fucked.

Tombs turns around to rest, not knowing that Cort held onto the rope and is now standing on the apron.  Tombs turns around, just as Cort jumps on the top rope and dives at Tombs.  But Tombs reacts fast enough and puts his foot up and Cort gets a face full of boot.

Ace:  Or not. . .

Tombs picks out Cort and slams him to the mat with a fall away slam.  Quickly Tombs covers him.

Wolf:  We’ve got a pin by Tombs!  1. . . 2. . . Cort kicks out!

Tombs sits on his knees, his face red, his chest heaving as he gulps in large quantities of air.  He pounds the mat in frustration as Cort continues to writhe on the mat.

Ace:  The butcher boy is getting frustrated!  Last time he got this mad was when the family shop ran out of Brisket for Passover!

Tombs picks up Cort, hooks his arm over his head, slamming him to the mat with a suplex.  He goes for the pin.

Wolf:  1. . . 2. . . no!  Cort kicks out.

Ace:  The fight in both these competitors is impressive Wolf.  They’ve given it their all in the past, putting their bodies on the line, and tonight is no different!

Cort crawls to the corner but Tombs already on his feet reaches him first and pulls him to his feet.  Grabbing Cort’s arm he wrenches it backward, stretching out his shoulder and chest muscles.  Tomb wrenches the hold violently, pulling back with the remainder of his strength, causing Cort to wince in pain.

Wolf:  The strength Ace, the strength!  Tombs looking like he’s trying to rip Cort’s shoulder right out of its socket!

Ace:  Listen for the pop.  Do it Tombs!  Do it!

The ref checks on Cort, saying something inaudible to him.  Cort can be seen emphatically shaking his head.  In frustration Tombs slams Cort to the mat, turning the hold into a pin.

Wolf:  1. . .2. . . kick out by Cort.  Have they got anything left ladies and gentlemen?

Quickly Tombs picks up Cort and clotheslines him to the mat.  He then bounces off the ropes and drops an elbow right onto the heart of Cort.  Cort sells the elbow and Tomb goes for the quick pin.

Wolf:  Another pin by Tombs!  Frustration setting in!  1. . . 2. . . no!  Only a two count there.

Ace:  Now way, this match is over, that was three ref!  Three!

Cort gets to the seated position, but his further progress toward standing is impeded by a stiff forearm to Cort’s back.  Cort quickly fights back, punching Tombs in the abdomen, then once more.  Tombs doubles over by quickly throws a right to Cort that rocks him back.

Wolf:  Stiff haymaker from Cort, that one caught him by surprise!

Seizing the opportunity Tombs picks up Cort, stretching him on his back in a torture rack.

Wolf:  The dreaded Torture Rack!  

Ace:  That’s pretty old school Wolf.  You were probably only twenty six years old when that move was invented.

Wolf:  I’m not that old and you know it!

Tombs wrenches Cort on his back, the ref asking  Cort if he would like to submit.  Cort shakes his head and wriggles free.  Sliding off of Tombs back, Cort lands on his feet and spins, kicking Tombs straight in the stomach.  Cort bounces off the ropes and leaves his feet with a windmill kick.  Tombs catches Corts leg and slams him to the mat.

Wolf:  Pin by Tombs!  1. . . 2. . . kick out!

Tombs picks up Cort and walks him over to the corner, where he slams Cort face first into the turnbuckle.  Tomb then lifts Cort, setting him on the top turnbuckle.

Wolf:  Well some high risk maneuver coming up folks.  I don’t know if this is the best of ideas.

Ace:  And that is why you never made it as a wrestler, Wolf.

Tombs throws a right, the blow nearly knocking Cort off the turnbuckle and out of the ring.  Tomb throws another right, and again Cort nearly falls off the turnbuckle, bending back out of the ring.

Wolf:  Those blows are tremendous!  Look out Cort!

Tombs then climbs the bottom rope, then the second, and hooks Corts arm.  He tries to lift Cort for the superplex but Cort holds on to the top rope.  Cort then punches Tombs in the abdomen, causing him to lose his footing and land feet first on the mat.  Cort hooks Tombs head under his arm and spins around, drilling Tombs headfirst into the mat.

Wolf:  Tornado DDT!

Ace:  I really like that word.  Tor-nay-doe.

Wolf:  Cort scrambling for the pin, this could be it Ace, this could be it!  1. . . 2. . . NO!  Tombs kicks out of the tornado DDT!

As FJ Tombs starts to gather his thoughts and come to, a man in a baseball cap, hostility wear t-shirt, and a pair of jeans hops over the guard rail and slides instantly into the ring.
 
Wolf:  Hey, security... Get this get this idiot who just jumped the railing!
 
Ace:  Wolf, I think I know that guy!
 
The guy helps FJ Tombs to his feet and to the ropes.  As Tombs uses the ropes to prop up himself, the man sits on the middle rope and helps Tombs to exit to the apron.  Cort stands in the center of the ring, his arms in the air as if to say 'what the fuck?'
 
Wolf:  What's going on Ace?  Cort has no idea either?  Maybe this guy some friend of FJ?
 
Ace:  No, that face!  I know I have seen it somewhere!
 
As Tombs is helped down the steel stairs, the raises the arm of Tombs high in the air as the crowd cheers extremely loud for the under rated superstar.  With his spare hand, the man knocks off his baseball cap and swings FJ Tombs around.  As Tombs comes face to face with the guy, he is given a low side kick to the knee that sends him face first into the steel stairs.
 
The bell starts to ring emphatically, the referee throwing his arms up in disgust.
 
Ace:  HOLY FUCK!
 
Wolf:  What?  What the hell is going on here?!
 
Ace:  THATS IAN MICHAELS!
 
Wolf:  You mean IM Hate?
 
Ace:  EXACTLY!
 
Hate removes his shirt, showcasing his tatted up body and dark olive skin.  Ian grabs the arms of FJ and lifts his chest and head off the steps.
 
The bell continues to ring emphatically.
 
Ace:  HATE CRIME?
 
Wolf:  We have seen this in Hostility and DREAM Ace, now we know who gave Ross that heads up last week!
 
Ian leans down and whispers something into the ear of FJ Tombs before putting his put against his head and stomps down into the back of the head of FJ Tombs crushing his face into the steel stairs.  As referees swarm the area shoving Ian away, medical staff rush out to attend to FJ.  Ian grabs a microphone from ringside and rolls into the ring. 
 
Wolf:  With Ian Michaels being in Death Row, who else maybe coming?
 
Ace:  This man was one of the men who burnt down an arena owned by James Milenko, as they overthrown Hostility and destroyed it!
 
Ian Michaels watches as the medical staff wraps the head of FJ up in a bloody towel, which was soaked by Tombs.  He laughs!
 
IM Hate:  Death Row, you will all learn to HATE!  Hate has infested your cesspool and the God of Hate himself is now on his throne spreading the word!
 
Ian throws down the microphone as the crowd gives him a mix reaction.  Ian drops to the canvas and rolls out the ring and heads up the ramp.  Medical staff is loading FJ up on a stretcher as we join back with Ace and Wolf.
 
Wolf:  He seems proud of his destruction!
 
Ace:  This man feeds off causing chaos and mayhem Wolf!
 
Wolf:  A perfectly good match ruined by IM Hate!  Cort had this thing won before he had to get envolved! 
 
Announcer:  Ladies and gentlemen, here is your winner, by disqualification, FJ Tombs!
 
Cort can be seen protesting the result with the referee, who simply shakes his head.  The shouting continues, and in a moment of frustration Cort slams the referee to the mat.  Grabbing his head the man rolls out of the ring.
 
Wolf:  And Cort is not happy!  And rightfully so!  IM Hate just made two enemies tonight!
 
Ace:  Striking an official!  There's a hefty fine coming Cort's way!
 
Wolf:  He doesn't care, and he's right!  This is bullshit Ace!  Bullshit!
 


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