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[OOC Note: To pay homage and celebrate the awesome landmark of PCW's 100th Trauma, this show will have some OOC goodness incorporated in with the regular PCW characters and storylines. It is all in good fun while (hopefully) not taking anything too far out of character or context. A big "Thank You" to Luis from all of the boys for keeping this thing going...and going...and going! Now...enough babbling. Congratulations on an incredible milestone and...enjoy the show.] Details: [The standard Trauma logo flashes across the screen...only there's a big, red "100" crudely scribbled across the bottom. The sound of the cheering fans can be heard echoing inside of the packed Pure Class Arena as an old school PCW Trauma video begins to roll. And then some familiar music kicks in.] [Inside the arena the camera pans around as the video continues to play on the PCW-tron. The fans are out in full force and PCW's favorite commentating duo, Jerry Andrews and Al Laiman, are dressed to kill in snappy looking suits. Must be a special occasion...] Jerry Andrews: Greetings, PCW Faithful, and welcome to the ONE HUNDREDTH episode of Tuesday Night Trauma! Thank you for tuning in an hour earlier to this very special three-hour edition of the hottest show on cable! Al Laiman: That's right, folks! Mr. Malave, Walker, and that bastard Skylar Marshall have pulled out all the stops for tonight's show, and it's gonna be a... |
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Details: [It's gonna be an interruption. The lights begin to flicker before blacking out one section at a time. These little interruptions have become commonplace over the past month or so and as if on cue, the PCW-tron springs to life.] Nitcht nitcht wasser wasser" [The familiar countdown timer materializes on the big screen and each tick is accompanied by that echoing beat.] 00:01:28:32 00:01:28:31 00:01:28:30 00:01:28:29 [And just as suddenly as it appeared...it's gone. The lighting resumes as the PCW-tron goes blank. Anticipation buzzes throughout the arena.] Jerry Andrews: Once again, we're graced by that bizarre countdown timer. There's been a lot of speculation over the past month, but in less than an hour and a half we'll finally get our answer. Al Laiman: Indeed we will, Jerry. But right now, it's time for the Rumble Royale! |
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| Match Details: [The camera pans out so that the entire ring is in focus as Mark Long addresses the fans.] Mark Long: Ladies and gentlemen...welcome to Trauma 100: The Night of Champions! [The fans let out an excited roar.] Mark Long: It is now time for tonight's ten-man Rumble Royal! Two men will start the match, with each additional man entering every sixty seconds. Elimination comes when a participant is thrown over the top rope with BOTH feet touching the arena floor. The winner will receive a North American title shot later on in the evening. Ladies and gentlemen...let's get ready to RUMBLE!!! [A ring of fire raises from the stage area as the lights dim and the strange music seeps across the crowd. After a moment, a pair of figures begin to rise through the flames.] Mark Long: Introducing the first two participants...representing the Ascension...the Watcher and Pegasus! [The fans give a light-hearted response to two men who've been on a skid over the past month. The Watcher and Pegasus slowly make their way to the ring, the Watcher with a goblet clasped between his hands. Pegasus enters the ring and mounts the second turnbuckle as the Watcher ascends the ring steps and turns to face the crowd. Dipping his finger in the red liquid, most likely some of Usali's cherry flavored Kool-Aid, he takes a large gulp before spewing the contents high into the air. Upon entering the ring, the quad-pod of referees begin the match. Pegasus and the Watcher are clearly not interested in fighting one another as they simply wait the minute out for the next combatant. 3...2...1...] Mark Long: "The Adrenaline King" Justin Kaard! ["The Adrenaline King" Justin Kaard sprints out from the back and the fans come to their feet for the man that many consider to be the best in the world. Completely unconcerned with odds that might be stacked against him, he dives in under the bottom rope and is immediately jumped by the Watcher and Pegasus! Kaard fights valiantly, but the numbers game is too much to overcome. Trapping the high flying dynamo in the corner, the Ascension members attempt to elevate him over the top strand. Kaard hangs on for dear life. 3...2...1...] Mark Long: Jason Scene! [The fans let out a cheer of recognition for the former PCW up and comer, but nobody emerges from the back as the music continues to play. A note is eventually passed to announcer Mark Long, and he regretfully informs the paying fans that Jason Scene had planned on attending, but he couldn't get the day off from Disney World. The fans laugh and boo while Kaard begins firing away on the Ascension cronies. Eventually, the youngster is able to break free, but Peggy and the Watcher quickly ground Kaard with a double clothesline. 3...2...1...] Mark Long: Former PCW World Champion...Slither! [There is another wave of recognition from the fans as former PCW star Slither emerges from the back...truly one of a kind. He makes his way down to the ring and cautiously climbs in. Pegs and the Watcher quickly turn their attention on the newcomer and Slither is the gracious recipient of an Ascension double team. Kaard, ever the daredevil, comes off the top rope...in a Rumble Royale...and floors the Ascension with a cross body. Some solid four way action ensues. 3...2...1...] [The revving of a powerful four-wheeled machine can be heard from the back, amplified by a strategically placed microphone. After a slight struggle, the vehicle plows through the curtain to reveal...] Mark Long: Antoine McDouglas! [..."The Wolverine" cruising down the ramp in his stylish motorized wheelchair that he drives with his teeth. His neckbrace holds his spine immobile as he heads towards the rumble. Some fans boo. Some fans laugh. And apparently the incline of the ramp is a bit much for the contraption's three m.p.h. speed limit because McDouglas quickly loses control of the vehicle. He swerves left...he swerves right...he picks up speed and goes sideways into the ring apron where the wheelchair unceremoniously overturns, hurling the cripple halfway under the ring. He's fallen and he can't get up. And there he stays for the rest of the match; the wheelchair sideways with the rear wheels still turning. The whole debacle has stopped the action in the ring as all four men simply watch in awe. Taking advantage of the situation, Kaard connects with a spinning headscissors takedown that sends Pegasus to the corner. 3...2...1...] Mark Long: "Crazy Boy" Tyrone Smith! [The boos are immediate. Tyrone walks out from the back, unpredictable as ever, and he's wearing a red and black kilt. When it comes to Tyrone Smith, just when you think you know all the answers, he changes the questions. The insane fighter leaps into the ring and starts swinging. Kaard eats a dropkick, the Ascension fall victim to a series of lariats, and a fireman's carry sends Slither over the top rope to the outside!] Mark Long: Slither has been eliminated! [The fans give a solid reaction as Smith sets his sights on Justin Kaard. 3...2...1...] Mark Long: Andy Deeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! [The fans erupt for one of PCW's rising stars as he bursts through the curtains adorned in a Fiji-style leopard print bucket hat. Jogging down the aisle, he passes the wrecked Antoine McDouglas and climbs into the ring. Tyrone Smith makes a beeline for Andy, but the D is waiting with a headbutt! Another headbutt! And a last jumping headbutt buckles Crazy Boy's knees! Andy sends Smith to the ropes and catches him on the rebound with a knife edge chop so vicious that it takes Crazy Boy off his feet! The Watcher and Pegasus have regained the advantage on Kaard. 3...2...1...] [The fans come to their feet; all eyes on the entrance. Could it be?] Mark Long: Ladies and gentlemen...making his return to the PCW..."MR. SHOWTIME"...MIKEY WRYGHT!!! [And the PCW Faithful lose their shit. Strolling out from the back with a cocky grin on his face, the one...the only...Mikey Wryght spits his gum out and slaps it into the crowd before continuing down the aisle to a standing ovation. Upon entering the ring, he simply holds him arms out at his sides...before exploding across the ring and double clotheslining Pegasus and the Watcher over the top rope! The fans go bananas!] Mark Long: Pegasus and the Watcher have been eliminated! [The brawl between Andy D and Crazy Boy continues. Justin Kaard and Showtime size each other up. 3...2...1...] Mark Long: And the final participant...the Rated Aaaaargh Superstar...High Tide! [The fans cheer for the swashbuckler as he jumps out from the back wearing a black trenchcoat along with the rest of his pirate gear. Marching down the ramp, the pirate scoffs at the overturned cripple before diving into the ring! High Tide, Justin Kaard, Tyrone Smith, Andy D, and Mikey Wryght jockey for position in a struggle to make it to the North American Championship match later on in the show. Andy D attempts to clothesline Smith over the ropes, but Smith ducks. With positions reversed, Crazy Boy launches himself into the air and the momentum carries both he and Andy over the top rope! Both men land hard on the ring apron and roll to the arena floor!] Mark Long: Andy D and Tyrone Smith have been eliminated! [Down to the final three! Kaard and High Tide, no strangers in the ring, decide to put their professional differences aside and go after Showtime. Wryght wards them off for a short while before succumbing to the two-on-one assault. With Showtime down on the mat, High Tide sees his opening and blindsides the Adrenaline King! Gaining the upper hand, Tide begins working Kaard over near the ring ropes. As Tide and Kaard struggle for leverage, Showtime quickly jumps to his feet and the fans erupt. Charging with a head of steam, Mikey aims a double clothesline at Tide and Kaard! But they both duck, pulling the top rope down with them...and Showtime sails over the top rope to the arena floor! The fans let out a disappointed groan.] Mark Long: Mikey Wryght has been eliminated! [High Tide and Justin Kaard, realizing that they're the last two, pick up the pace. Right hands start flying and it looks like they're going to beat each other into oblivion. High Tide connects with a boot to the guts, but Kaard blocks a suplex attempt. Tide tries again, but Kaard blocks and repositions. Lifting the pirate high into the air for a vertical suplex, the Adrenaline King opts to drop High Tide over the top rope! But High Tide hangs on and drags Kaard over with him! Tumbling to the ring apron, both men bounce off the hard ring frame and land on the stadium floor in a heap! The Cruz siblings and Roberto Garcia quickly huddle up with each referee arguing their opinion as the fans await the announcement of the winner. Replays of the finish are shown from different angles on the PCW-tron, some of them in slow motion. Finally, the referees decide upon the winner and relay the message to Mark Long...] Mark Long: It has been determined that both men hit the ground at exactly the same time. Therefore, both High Tide and Justin Kaard have been declared the winners of the Rumble Royale! [The fans serve up a mixed reaction.] Jerry Andrews: We've just received word from one of the presidents in the back that the North American Championship match with Areas will now be a triple threat match for the title. Winners: High Tide and Justin Kaard via simultaneous elimination |
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Details: [The PCW-tron flickers to life to find Shane Dodge and LoKi standing in what appears to be the shower area. It's cool and damp and you imagine that a serpent would probably be very comfortable here.] Shane Dodge: LoKi, the match is at hand. LoKi: Well, well...Justin "Stormm" Michaels. Here we are at Trauma 100. The Night of Champions. And it's the biggest match of your career. Why? Because everything you stand for is on the line. Namely the PCW World Championship belt. Oh, it can still be yours after tonight. All you've got to do...is go through me. But you see, I don't forget. I remember all the times you made people grovel for your money. These were people far less fortunate than you. People who could use your money for essentials. And what did you do? [LoKi's calm demeanor is slowly being betrayed by his anger as his voice slowly begins to rise.] LoKi: You made fun of them. You humbled them. And you humiliated them. Well, now it's my turn! I'm going to make you beg, Michaels. You're going to get down on your hands and knees. This time, you'll be the one that's humbled! This time, you'll be the one that's humiliated! And this time, you'll be the one that grovels for the money. And how appropriate... [The thought causes LoKi to chuckle mildly to himself.] LoKi: ...that the money you grovel for is your very own. A victim of your own greed...wallowing...in the muck...of avarice. [LoKi simply arches an eyebrow slightly, his face hard as stone, before walking out of view leaving Shane all alone.] Shane Dodge: Longfellow couldn't have said it better. [And with that, Trauma takes a commercial break.] |
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| Match Details: [Trauma returns to find resident dunce Jeremy Bagwell already in the ring for his match against the PCW Icon, Lantlas Anduril. Bagwell is perched atop the second turnbuckle peering out into the crowd, and he looks as if he's attempting to raise one of his eyebrows...but he's have little success.] [Lantlas emerges from the back, and the fans still aren't too sweet on this guy. He looks older this week than he did at the last Trauma, but he still moves with the nimbleness of an elf. Slowly entering the ring, he strips down to his ring attire and awaits the bell. Bagwell immediately closes the distance with long strides and begins running his mouth right in the elf's face. In fact, he's so busy yelling and spitting that he doesn't even see the spinning roundhouse kick coming! Knocking on his buttocks, Bagwell attempts to back away but Lantlas is on him like white on rice. Kicks and double foot stomps find a home all over Bagwell's anatomy as Lantlas stomps the shit out of the little shit, using him as PCW's personal doormat. As this throttling is taking place, Usali Basilisk slowly emerges from the back and stands with his arms folded atop the stage area. He sees what everyone else sees: While no longer immortal, Lantlas hasn't thrown in the towel...as the ass-whipping he's handing to Bagwell can attest to.] [Bagwell attempts a comeback late in the match, but it gets him nowhere. The Hangtown apprentice is noticeably bigger, faster, and stronger...but it helps him little against one of the most decorated competitors in the history of the sport. Lantlas whips him from pillar to post, and looks to have the match well in hand...until Bagwell jabs his thumb into one of the elf's emerald green eyes. Seizing the opportunity, Bagwell pulls Lanty in for what looks to be a Sadistic DDT...but the rookie mistake results in Jeremy going for a ride on the elf's shoulders that ends horrifically with a nasty Flame of the West! Three seconds later and Lantlas has taken out the garbage at the 6 minute and 2 second mark. Winners: Lantlas via pinfall |
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Details: [After the previous match has ended and Lantlas is heading back up the aisle, the music hits.] [The fans come to their feet as the Nacho Man emerges from the back clad in a neon green cowboy hat, matching shades, and a fluorescent ring jacket...on top of his normal attire, of course! As he prances around the ring entrance, fingers fluttering and neck veins bulging, he comes shoulder to shoulder with the Elven Warrior. The two share a brief nod before Nacho continues down to the ring. Jumping into the ring with his cat-like quickness, he spins around the ring with arms outstretched before coming into possession of a microphone.] Nacho Grande: Ooooooooh yeeeeeeeeeeeeeah! [And the crowd erupts.] Nacho Grande: The Nacho Man is too hot to handle and too cold to hold...yeah! And tonight...tonight Phinehas Grimm, Nacho Madness is gonna show you something...yeah. Nacho Madness, gonna take Phinehas Grimm into the Twilight Zone, yeah, because the Nacho Man is the greatest wrestler past, present, and future...dig it! [Nacho takes a step forward and looks out into the crowd. The fans are clearly eating it up, although they can't quite put their finger on this latest parody...] Nacho Grande: Phinehas Grimm...yeah...I'm talkin' about Phinehas Grimm. And tonight-ah, I'm gonna kick his butt, yeah! Did I just say what I think I did? Yeah, I did! So Phinehas Grimm... [And the arena goes black.] |
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Details: [The PCW-tron comes to life, and it has a grainy, golden effect going on. Once the picture clears up, there is a figure with their back to the screen...with long, golden hair. The figure is motionless for a few moments, but then the man begins to speak.] Man: "Not a speck of light is showing, so the danger must be growing. Are the fires of hell a glowing? Is the grisly reaper mowing? Yes! The danger must be growing for the rowers keep on rowing. And they're certainly not showing any signs that they are slowing!" [The man slowly turns around, revealing a face covered in gold and black paint...and a thick red beard. And then the music begins to play.] Man: Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory...1971. Nacho Grande...you are a man of many parodies. A man that dresses as superheroes. But alas, you are just a man. And tonight, I'm going to treat you like the man you are. Tonight, you'll never forget the name of... [And the sicko sucks in a deep breath through puckered lips while running his hands up his chest.] Man: Grimmdust! [And he puts an explanation point on the whole uncomfortable situation by snapping his teeth shut. Moments later, Grimmdust is at the top of the ramp. Slowly making his way down the ramp, the bizarre one enters the ring.] |
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| Match Details: [Eric Russo calls for the bell and the Nacho Man goes on the attack, driving Grimm into the corner for a series of hard elbows. Grimm fights his way out and slings Nacho against the turnbuckles, going to work with fist, elbow, boot, shoulder, and anything else he has handy. Nacho gets a boot up and lands an elbow from the second rope, and with the Lord of Misrule staggered gets off an inverted atomic drop and a few of his patented super arm drags. The Nacho Man is all over the ring, until tragedy – which is to say, Grimm – strikes. A flying clothesline attempt ends badly with nobody home, and Grimm grabs a handful each of mask and tights to swing Nacho full circle and hurl him between the turnbuckles. Nacho ends up hung in the corner, and the Lord of Misrule grabs him by the ankles to plant him face first down on the mat, and then slides outside. Reaching in, he grabs Nacho’s arm and wraps it around the unforgiving steel post! Nacho is in major trouble as Grimm drags him outside and sets about trying to separate his arm from his body. Nacho’s arm is twisted around the guardrail so Grimm can drop hammer blows onto the joint. The ring steps are kicked apart as Nacho is immobilized with pain, and Grimm throws him hard into the steel. Nacho’s arm is positioned across the lower section of the ring steps, double stomped a few times, and then Grimm grabs the upper section and brings it down on the Nacho Man’s elbow! Grimm may have just disarmed his opponent, no pun intended! The Luchador is rolled back into the ring, and his injured limb is trapped in a stepover armlock. Nacho howls and reaches for the ropes… and gets them! Grimm, alas, refuses to release the hold! The referee is showing a lot of leniency, but finally the Lord of Misrule lets go. Nacho reverses an Irish whip and puts his opponent down with a lariat, then immediately grabs his arm in pain! It looks like Nacho is down one extremity, which is a sizable disadvantage to go along with all the others involved with wrestling Grimm. Nacho tries to get back in the match and does a hell of a job, all things considered. Grimm attempts a back body drop and Nacho dives over him into a sunset flip. Whoa, almost a two count! Grimm rolls out, but Nacho is faster and plants both feet in Grimm’s face. A second dropkick is missed, Grimm’s elbow drop misses, and there is a furious battle for the advantage. Angered, the Lord of Misrule tosses Nacho from the ring, but the Luchador lands on the ring apron, seizes Grimm by the head, and drops to the floor like he wants that hairy noggin for a souvenir! Grimm is hung throat first on the top rope and collapses flat on his back. Nacho reenters via a slingshot leg drop and makes the cover. One… two… Grimm kicks out. An Irish whip and a drop toehold hangs Grimm out on the second rope, and Nacho rolls him over to guillotines him with a catapult throw! Enough shots to the throat will stagger even the Lord of Misrule, and Nacho drags him to the corner for a ten-count turnbuckle smash – in Spanish, ‘natch. A jumping knee drop to the forehead, and Nacho sticks a thumb in his belt, twirling one finger in the air as the crowd goes up like a rocket. It looks like the 2AM Drive Thru, and Nacho mounts the turnbuckles...but Sadistic is on his way out from the back! Nacho leaps off the top… to meet nothing but canvas! The cheers turn to groans as Grimm throws an arm over him. One… two… NO! Nacho somehow kicks out, but may have finished Grimm’s job for him. The Hangtown Hellspawn goes back on the attack as Nacho rolls around clutching his elbow! A merciless assault follows, involving back breakers, neck breakers, and six different arm breakers, with the Lord of Misrule clearly enjoying being able to do anything he wants to his opponent. Then, with Nacho beaten down on the mat, he prepares to deliver the coup de grace… it’s the Foddershock! Except Nacho turns the wheelbarrow throw into a falling bulldog...or so he thought! Grimm shoves him off at the last second and Nacho takes out referee Eric Russo with a glancing blow! Nacho quickly recovers and drops Grimm with a clothesline! And seconds later he's clobbered from behind by the Phenom! The fans boo mercilessly...until Heavy Metal sprints out from the back! Leaping onto the ring apron with a single bound, Roth springs off the top rope and rocks Sadistic with a missile dropkick! The situation quickly breaks into a four-man brawl and the crowd can't get enough. Unfortunately, Eric Russo recovers to find his match in shambles, and he's had enough...and he calls for the bell. Security stampedes from the back to break up the hot mess as the camera goes to the backstage area.] Winner: Draw via Double Disqualification |
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Details: [The backstage area finds Crazy Boy walking down a random corridor. He stops suddenly as he notices Andy D walking towards him.] Andy D: What the hell, man? Crazy Boy: Andy. Andy D: No, don’t "Andy" me. I know you attacked me last week. Twice! Crazy Boy: Oh. And here I always thought you were completely stupid. Andy D: Why? Crazy Boy: Why? Because I won’t let you ruin the reputation I’ve fought hard to build up about here. Andy D: Ruin your…? How the hell would I ruin your reputation? Crazy Boy: You and that mouth of yours...you’ll ruin everything. Andy D: How? How will I ruin everything? Crazy Boy: You’ll talk about it. You’ll talk about it and it will ruin everything I’ve worked so hard to build. Andy D: What? What could I possibly say that would be so damaging? [There’s a pause before Crazy Boy spits out one word with venom.] Crazy Boy: Wilson. [Andy is clearly shocked by the word.] Andy D: Wilson? That’s what this has been about? That damn...? Crazy Boy: Don’t you say anything! Since you won’t keep your mouth shut, I'll have to shut it for you! [Crazy Boy leaves the hallway and approaches a table filled with fresh fruits and whatnot in the catering area. Andy D continues to stare at him before asking mockingly:] Andy D: Oh, and you’re going to shut me up? Crazy Boy: Mmm hmm. Matter of fact... [Crazy Boy whips around in a flash and smashes a coconut into the side of Andy's head! He drops like a sack of wheat as Tyrone stares down at him furiously. A few nearby security members pull Crazy Boy away before he can inflict further damage, but it looks like he's gotten his point across. Andy D isn't moving, and his mouth is shut. And Trauma goes to commercial.] |
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Details: [Pure Class Wrestling returns somewhere within the bowels of the Pure Class Arena. Perhaps the boiler room? And sitting there, rocking back and forth in the darkness, is Non Compos Mentis looking deranged as ever. When he speaks, his voice is unstable and demented...which makes perfect sense.] Non Compos Mentis: You know...I think I have a much better grasp...of reality...than people think. I've realized...I DON'T NEED SANITY! I've realized...I DON'T NEED MOMMY! Pure Class Wrestling would like you to believe... [And he punches himself in the side of the head. Hard.] Non Compos Mentis: ...that I just crawled out of this boiler room! I'VE SPENT MY ENTIRE ADULT LIFE IN PREPARATION FOR THIS MOMENT! And I've got the scars to prove it. And now they wanna make a big deal out of Justin Michaels and LoKi...well the real story is that Non Compos Mentis...and Non Compos Mentis...ARE A TEAM! Justin Michaels...you know me well! [He punches himself in the eyebrow again. Blood has already started trickling down his cheek from the first blow.] Non Compos Mentis: LoKi...you'll soon know me real well! And Usali Basilisk...once again, you're about to take a bite out of the baddest apple on the tree! [In a flurry, Mentis goes after the camera - and the man behind the camera - and brief screams are heard before the camera falls to the ground and all is silent.] |
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| Match Details: [The shot returns to the ringside area where Justin Kaard and High Tide, the co-winners of the Rumble Royale earlier in the night, are already in the ring. Just like the fans, they've just finished watching NCM's promo on the PCW-tron, and they both look a bit uneasy about the whole thing. But they have a match to prepare for, and the North American Championship is on the line! All that's missing is the champion...] [Areas walks through the curtains to loud mixed reaction from the fans. The belt is firmly around his waist as he raises both hands above his head to form a diamond before - BANG! - pyros shoot off from either side of the stage! Walking down the aisle, Areas offers a high five to a young fan, but instead opts for a SELF HIGH FIVE...and regretfully shakes the pain out of his hand that isn't made from metal. Damn, that thing is hard. Entering the ring, Areas gives his prized possession one last glance before handing it over to Nolan Cruz. Ding, ding, ding. The match begins quickly, but what would you expect from three fast paced athletes? The action is back and forth with Areas, the freshest of the three men, taking the advantage. He makes liberal use of that bionic appendage and referee Cruz isn't quite sure how to react. It's a metallic weapon, sure, but it is part of the man's body. For fear of possibly being on the receiving end of said weapon, Nolan opts to keep quiet. Areas lays down some punishment on both challengers, but eventually Tide and Kaard decide to turn the tables on the champion. Kaard strikes first with a standing dropkick and High Tide takes him to the mat with a spinning hurricanranna! The fans are back into it as Areas goes on the defensive. Tide and Kaard actually collaborate on a few double team maneuvers and Areas is hurting in a bad way. Having learned from the Rumble Royale earlier in the night, Kaard is the first to end the partnership as he levels the pirate with a clothesline! The fans erupt, clearly in the corner of the Adrenaline King! Kaard pulls Tide off the mat and hoists him onto his shoulders. Justin hefts the pirate off his shoulders and drives him face first into his knee - and Tide goes to sleep! With the pirate temporarily knocked for a loop, Kaard drops down and make the cover. 1...2...Areas stomps Kaard in the back of the head. Areas whips Kaard to the ropes, but Kaard reverses. The Adrenaline catches the champ on the rebound and lifts him onto his shoulders...ready to put the next victim to sleep. But Areas wiggles out the back door, spins Kaard around, and - BANG! - drives his face into the mat with a move so sharp it could cut a diamond! Areas quickly pops back to his feet and the fans are loving it...until High Tide charges out of the corner and nearly busts the champion into two equal pieces with a Rated Aaaargh spear! All three men are hurting, but after a minute High Tide is eventually able to throw an arm over Areas. 1...2...kickout! The fans are really getting into the action as all three men simultaneously reach their feet. The slugfest begins! Left hand! Right hand! Haymaker! High Tide stuns both men with a pair of jabs and then hits the ropes. On the rebound, Kaard and Areas grabs him by the back of the head and use his momentum to launch him over the top rope! He lands hard on the outside. Kaard strikes first with a standing side kick to the chin of the champion that sends him through ropes to the apron. Waiting for Areas to stand, the Adrenaline King runs to the nearest corner, springboards off the top rope, and connects with a sick twisting plancha that wipes out both himself and Areas! All three men are down on the outside and flashbulbs are going off across the arena. The referee begins his ten-count. After about five seconds they begin to stir. Areas is the closest to the ring and he uses the ring to pull himself up. High Tide and Justin Kaard struggle to their feet and stagger towards the ring. Rather than return to the confines of the squared-circle, Areas levels both men with a double clothesline! And Nolan has no choice but to finish his mandatory ten-count! He calls for the bell as Areas quickly retrieves his belt and heads to the back, pointing to his temple all the while. Trauma takes a commercial break.] Winner: Areas, High Tide & Justin Kaard draw via triple countout |
| Details: [We return from the break to find that it's now time for the International Championship match between the champion, Heavy Metal, and the undefeated challenger, Billy Sadistic. The camera is in the backstage area directly in front of the locker room with a nameplate that reads: SADISTIC. Security guards line each side of the hallway outside of this door. There is suddenly a violent impact from the other side of the door that is so vicious it actually dents the outside of the door. And the music begins.] Jerry Andrews: And here comes the challenger! Everyone's been wondering who's next for Sadistic. I guess Heavy Metal is next! Al Laiman: Indeed he is, Jerry. Billy Sadistic has been unstoppable since his debut in Pure Class Wrestling. Tonight, he puts his undefeated streak on the line against Heavy Metal and his International Championship! [The door is ripped open from the inside and out walks a jacked up Billy Sadistic, a snarl on his face and a bleeding headbutt wound on his forehead. Between beastly grunts and an escort of a dozen security guards, Sadistic begins the long walk from his locker room to the ring. Making a turn this way and that, Sadistic finally arrives at the stage and steps through the curtain. Walking to the top of the ramp, Sadistic lowers his head as he sprayed with showers of white hot pyro. Once the fireworks subside, Sadistic exhales a large stream of smoke like a fire breathing dragon before letting loose a deep, primal scream. Sadistic means business as he gets in a little shadow boxing on his way to the ring. Once inside the ring, he eagerly awaits the arrival of his arch nemesis.] |
| Details: [The music changes to something straight out of an old burlesque theatre.] [This is, in fact, called The Stripper Song in case you ever wondered about that. Two bikini-clad knockouts appear on stage and hold the curtain open for Heavy Metal, who is rocking a sequined robe and a ‘stache right out of seventies porno. He struts down the aisle and takes to the ring with his shapely escorts, who have established their own fan base in record time.] Heavy Metal: Cut the music. [The music cuts out. Roth, who is looking rather ‘ravishing’ tonight, waits for the noise to die down before continuing.] Heavy Metal: What I’d like to have right now is for all you fat, ugly, Hangtown hayseeds to keep the noise down while I take my robe off, and show the ladies what a real sexy man looks like. Hit the music! [Hangtown hayseeds? Sadistic wants to rip Roth apart! The Stripper Song starts back up as Roth unties his robe. Some teasing for the crowd, and he pulls it open to strut the physique. And the International Belt around his waist. Oh yeah, and the airbrush job on his tights, which is clearly an unflattering representation of the Lord of Misrule - Grimm in a dress with a bow in his hair, to be precise! The ladies help him out of his robe, and since he’s lacking his trademark shades he whips off his mustache and flings THAT into the crowd. Roth slowly runs his hands up his muscular torso and flicks the sweat right at Billy. Wow, how Rude!] Al Laiman: A disgusting lack of respect from the International Champion. Jerry Andrews: Hey! He's a Jerry the Body Award winner! |
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| Match Details: [The flick of the sweat sends Sadistic off the deep end and he charges! He connects with a vicious running knee...right into the International Championship belt! Ouch! Those belts are harder than you'd think. Sadistic clutches his leg and Roth uses the opportunity to force Sadistic into the corner with a series or right hands. Sadistic is quick to retaliate with a thumb to the eyeball, earning him a little more ill will from the PCW Faithful. Sadistic attempts a follow up and walks right into a sidewalk slam that earns the champion a quick one-count. Metal waits for Sadistic to regain his vertical base before blasting him with the best dropkick in the business! Sadistic is knocked to the outside of the ring, and the Whirling Dervish of Metal Mayhem makes the mistake of following after him... Tyrone begins the count as Roth closes in on the challenger...and is caught off guard with a thrust to the throat. A lover of dirty tactics and underhanded techniques, Sadistic rakes the eyes before sending Metal into the steel guardrail! Then the ring steps! And then the steel ring post! The champion is seeing stars, but Sadistic knows that he needs to beat the champion inside the ring and he rolls him back in under the bottom rope. With Metal still dazed and confused, Sadistic takes to the top rope and connects with an Olympic quality swandive headbutt that even rings the Phenom's bell! Sadistic instinctively makes the cover, but only gets a two-count. Ever the strategist, the Carnivore of Hardcore begins implementing an uncharacteristic ground attack to wear down the champion and take him out of his element. A reverse chinlock, an armbar, and a hammerlock are all very painful and do a wonderful job of sapping Metal's strength, but none are able to draw a submission out of the champion. Unfortunately for Heavy Metal, he soon finds himself trapped inside of a tight bearhug. Unfortunately for Sadistic, Roth has a sold out crowd rallying behind him...and adrenaline is a helluva drug. The first two attempts to break the hold go nowhere. So does a headbutt. But boxing the ears seems to have the desired effect, so he does it once more. The hold loosens, and Roth wastes no time in biting the Phenom's forehead...much to the crowd's delight! The referee warns Roth, but he doesn't wanna hear it. Ready to mount his comeback, the Whirling Dervish turns to make a run at the ropes...but Sadistic yanks him down to the mat with a handful of flowing mane! The fans boo mercilessly! Sadistic makes an elaborate show of stomping on the side of Roth's pretty face before making a pinfall attempt. 1...2...kickout! Roth is still going and the fans are still behind him. Roth struggles to his feet, but Sadistic is just getting started. He wants to add another notch to his flawless record and another piece of gold to Hangtown's collection, but he also wants to inflict as much pain upon Heavy Metal as humanly possible. So he boots Roth in the stomach and spikes him on top of his head with a piledriver! The fans groan as Sadistic again makes the cover. 1...2...kickout! Bridging German Suplex! 1...2...kickout! Spinebuster! 1...2...kickout! The Phenom unloads some high impact offense, but the champion refuses to give in. Feeling like he has Roth right where he wants him, Sadistic drops down to the mat and locks in his patented crossface submission hold he calls Phenomenal. The fans attempt to bolster their hero, but Metal is fading fast. And to make matters worse, they're right in the center of the ring! Sadistic continues to wrench on the hold, but there's no quit in the International Champion! The fans continue to chant for their hero, but a man can only withstand so much punishment and Metal looks like he's on the verge of losing consciousness! In a last ditch effort, Metal lunges forward towards the ropes...but they're still painfully out of reach. In a burst, Metal gets a knee up and rolls Sadistic over onto his back! 1...2...Sadistic easily kicks out, but he relinquishes the hold in the process. Heavy Metal is running on empty as Sadistic heads to the corner ready to end it once and for all. Crouching down, he waits for the weakened Heavy Metal to stand before charging with the spear! Metal dodges out of the way at the last second and Sadistic's momentum carries him between the ropes deep into the ring post! The fans erupt as Metal drops to his knees and crawls out onto the ring apron. Sadistic finally frees himself from the corner and Metal is there waiting with a springboard guillotine face driver the plants Billy's ugly mug into the canvas! The fans erupt! Rather than go for the cover, Heavy Metal, getting his second wind, pulls Sadistic off the mat, locks his head in, and rotates him into position for a ravishing neckbreaker. Snap! Heavy Metal connects and Sadistic is down! 1...2...kickout! Roth and the fans can't believe it. The end is near, and Roth can feel it. The champion locks Sadistic in for the Metalplex and connects, finishing with a beautiful bridging pin. 1...2...Sadistic bares gets the shoulder up! Signalling the end, Heavy Metal Irish whips Sadistic into the ropes and attempts to latch onto his neck on the rebound. Sadistic ducks underneath, bounces off the far side, and connects with stiff spear! Both men are down, and Sadistic is clutching his shoulder, clearly still smarting from colliding with the post earlier in the match. Still, Sadistic has enough presence of mind to go for the kill. Pulling Metal off the mat by a handful of hair, he locks him in for the Sadistic DDT and snaps down to the mat...but Metal hangs on to the top rope! Sadistic is temporarily stunned and Heavy Metal takes advantage by putting the hurt on the Phenom with a shoulder breaker. With his undefeated opponent down in the center of the ring, Metal points to the top rope and the fans immediately come to their feet! Clearly fatigued, the champ slowly climbs to the top turnbuckle and plays an invisible guitar for a moment as cameras snap away throughout the arena...and he leaps! He spins in mid-air! And he connects with the Air Guitar! Sadistic's body shakes violently from the impact as Heavy Metal drapes an exhausted arm over the chest of the Phenom. 1.....2.....3! The fans nearly blow the top off the arena as Heavy Metal finally puts an end to Billy Sadistic's undefeated reign of terror to retain the International Championship at the 17 minute and 34 second mark! Metal celebrates by exiting through the crowd. Sadistic, leaning against the top rope for support, can only look to the backstage area...clearly wondering where his reinforcements were.] Winners: Heavy Metal via pinfall |
| Details: [Just as Sadistic disappears to the back, most likely in search of his brother, Jeremy Bagwell's music hits.] [Out walks the Bag, the People's Champion, adorned in one of his $500 shirts and a pair of snazzy sunglasses. He stomps down to the ring with a purpose and climbs into the ring. He asks...nay!...he demands that a microphone be handed to him. As soon as his demands are met, the music cuts out and young Bagwell has the floor.] The Bag: The Bag say know your roll and SHUT your mouths! [The fans can't boo fast enough.] The Bag: Why is the Bag out here, you might ask? Why has the Bag decided to come out here in front of the MILLIONS...! [Bagwell waits for the echo that is sure to come, but never does.] The Bag: ... [Still nothing.] The Bag: See, that's the problem with you jabronies. Because the Bag doesn't forget, and the Bag sure as hell doesn't forgive? People have been asking the Bag for months now: Why, Bag, why...did you sell out to Hangtown? [The fans are a bit puzzled as to where the Dillingers' whipping boy is going with this.] The Bag: "Bagwell Sucks"? "Die, Bagwell, Die"? Oh, no. The Bag never forgot. The Bag never forgot how the fans turned their backs on the Bag! The Bag never forgot the way the fans disrespected the Bag! And the Bag never forgot how the wrestlers disrespected the Bag. So right now, in front of all of these idiots, on Trauma - The Bag's show! - The Bag is issuing an open challenge to any jabroni in the back! That's right. Just come on down that ramp and the Bag will take his size 13 boot...shine it up real nice...turn that sumbitch sideways...and stick it straight up... |
| Details: [And the Bag is interrupted by a power outage.] Jerry Andrews: And here we go again. [The sounds of the chanting by what could be hundreds of people standing in a large building echoes around the arena, infecting the ears of the fans in attendance with a repeated phrase looped over and over again.] Nitcht nitcht wasser wasser" [After a few loops of chanting, it fades into a heartbeat monitor noise followed by on screen effect in gold while golden lights light up in time with the rhythmic beating. A garbled voice in what seems to be reversed audio follows with a quick flash of something in black and white for just a few seconds. This is then followed by a buzzing noise similar to a faulty piece of electrical equipment, white lights around the building and on the stage flickering as if there was a fault with them.] Jerry Andrews: It looks like it's time. We're about to find out what this is all about. [As the buzzing happens, a phrase on the PCW-Tron buzzes and flickers into life in gold lettering: The PCW-Tron then appears to jolt erratically, the screen seeming to crack like glass as if something unseen has struck it with force. The cracks reach out like limbs into all corners and sides of the screen. The shards of glass shatter and fall away, revealing a single word in its place:] Al Laiman: Messiah? As in Jesus? [Effects continue to run on the screen, followed by several more words:] [The previous words are replaced by their English translation:] Al Laiman: Is PCW closing its doors again? Jerry Andrews: Doubtful, although if this is the "Pick A $ide" thing and we're on the wrong team... [Jerry is interrupted when the phrase morphs into a countdown clock that appears showing days, hours, minutes and seconds as it ticks down, closer than the last time it appeared with less than a minute on the clock.] 00:00:00:19 00:00:00:18 00:00:00:17 00:00:00:16 [Each second counted down is accompanied by a pounding echo like a basketball upon a floor in an empty room, anticipation for whatever this may be building until the tension, excitement and curiosity packed into the Pure Class Arena feels too much for some of the fans, some counting down with the clock and others in silence waiting to see what this whole countdown is all about.] 00:00:00:09 00:00:00:08 00:00:00:07 00:00:00:06 00:00:00:05 00:00:00:04 00:00:00:03 00:00:00:02 00:00:00:01 00:00:00:00 [A heartbeat can be heard faintly in the background as a color display of effects plays on the PCW-tron. As this happens, the words "The LAST F'n Show" slowly fade into view on the tron between the pulses, appearing more solid with each heartbeat.] [Smoke billows as a figure appears to rise through the smoke wearing long leather pants, black work boots and a white dress shirt with his back to the ring and arms outstretched either side in a crucifix pose.] Al Laiman: What the hell?! Jerry Andrews: No way... [A roar from the crowd rises up as the figure remains in that position, perfectly still like a statue while the camera briefly cuts to the confused look on Jeremy's face as he remains in the ring watching.] Jerry Andrews: That pose, that entrance music, it can only be one man, Al. [As if to clear any potential confusion for anybody who hasn't quite realised yet, the PCW-Tron above the motionless figure on the stage is emblazoned by the name "DAZZ" in huge gold letters, cutting to shots of him in his brand new entrance video posing in a long leather trenchcoat and sunglasses, clips of him on stage playing guitar and singing, a montage of him performing various moves, holds and strikes in an empty ring to a nameless and unknown masked wrestler. Finally, after what seems forever with his arms held out to his sides and legs slightly apart, Dazz spins on his heel to show his face to the crowd, receiving another roar of approval from them as he stands almost sideways like Zakk Wylde, one foot in front of the other and knees bent and a huge amount of space between them. Taking the mic from the front of his leather pants, Dazz stands looking out at the fans in silence as the music cuts off, loud chanting in his favour from the sold out crowd.] PCW Faithful: DAZZ! DAZZ! DAZZ! DAZZ! [Pulling a microphone from his coat, he slowly raises it to his lips.] Dazz: Welcome to the new era! [The fans roar for the charismatic newcomer.] Jeremy Bagwell: Whoa, whoa, whoa! Do you have any idea who I am? Dazz: Actually, no I... Jeremy Bagwell: IT DOESN'T MATTER WHAT MY NAME IS! [There is a moment of confusion before the fans burst into laughter. Even Dazz cracks and smiles a bit. Bagwell isn't happy.] Jeremy Bagwell: You want to come out here and interrupt the Bag? You want to... Dazz: Douchebag. Will you please...SHUT...THE HELL...UP?! [The fans are really digging this new cat. Jeremy Bagwell, not so much.] Jeremy Bagwell: Look, the Bag appreciates this great big show you've just put on, but unless you're out here to fight, you're just wasting the Bag's time. [The entire crowd have their eyes locked on Dazz, wondering what he'll do next while Jeremy motions with his hands for the man of many nicknames to come to the ring and take him on. After a long pause, Dazz finally looks up at Bagwell and puts the microphone to his mouth again.] Dazz: You want to face me in that ring, is that what you're saying? Jeremy Bagwell: Right now. Dazz: Hmmm.....I've got a monkeyspank in the ring who thinks he can throw out the worst insults of all time and then kick my ass. Do I accept the challenge and risk getting sweaty in my street clothes against this gimpanzee or do I let a jerkweed keep running his mouth? Let me think about that for a second. [After exactly one second has passed, Dazz drops the mic with a thud onto the stage and begins his walk down the ramp, removing his Gucci sunglasses and dropping them to the ground before taking off his shirt as he reaches the steel steps, ascending them and climbing through the ropes to enter the PCW ring for the first time in history.] |
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| Match Details: [Dazz sizes up the little bastard Bagwell as Roberto Garcia trots out from the back to pull a little double officiating duty tonight. Although he's still clearly exhausted after taking a beating at the hands of Lantlas earlier in the night, he's ready to beat some respect into this pompous newcomer. Or so he'd like to think. In reality, Dazz puts those hopes to rest by leveling the youngster with a clothesline right off the bat to start the match. You've gotta give Bagwell credit, he's got a lot of heart...he just doesn't have much natural skill or coordination. Dazz shows off some fancy moves, but Bagwell still attempts to put up a fight. Dazz can't help but smile a little at the youngster's exuberance, but exuberance isn't going to win him the match. It isn't long before Dazz has Bagwell worn down and he wastes no time taking Jeremy to the cleaners. A snap suplex leaves Bagwell winded and Dazz locks him in what appears to be some sort of modified dragon sleeper/bearhug...until he twists quickly to the side slamming Bagwell's face into the mat! That was a sick, sick move that Dazz calls the Chaos Factor, and Bagwell is out cold! Dazz savors the roar from the fans before placing a triumphant boot upon the youngster's chest. Garcia drops down to make the count. 1...2...3! And at the 2 minute and 49 second mark the "Last F'n Show" successfully debuts with a bang!] Winner: Dazz via pinfall |
| Details: [Jeremy Bagwell is still out cold in the ring long after Dazz has left. The fans are eagerly awaiting the next match when they're graced with the sounds of greed.] [The reigning PCW World Champion has finally decided to grace us with his presence, and he's accompanied to the ring by a security guard...carrying a basketball, of all things. Upon entering the ring, Mr. Michaels motions for a microphone...but first, he has a little business to take care of. Peering at the unconscious Bagwell, Stormm pulls a crisp one hundred dollar bill from his trousers - pocket change, of course - and stuff it deep down into the gullet of Bagwell! Bagwell begins coughing and dry heaving as Stormm orders his hired help to roll the youngster out of the ring. Okay, the ring is clear. NOW he wants the microphone!] Stormm: Well, well, well. Justin "Stormm" Michaels is here. PCW Faithful: Boo! Stormm: As you can all see, I've been accompanied by a bodyguard. And in one hand, he has a basketball. Poor man's sport, right? Anyone can play basketball. All you need is a ball, a hoop, and an old, raggedy pair of tennis shoes. Not like the expensive games that I play that involve limousines, learjets...but that's another story. And in the other hand, he has just a small sample of my wealth. Just a few thousand dollars. Now I know that's a lot of money to most of you people, and I also know that most of you would do anything for a little bit of my money. [The fans cheer.] Stormm: Well, I'll tell you what. I'm going to give one person from the crowd a chance to win two thousand dollars. So how about it? Who wants a chance to win some of my money? [The volume in the arena suddenly increases. Sure, they hate the guy...but two thousand dollars is two thousand dollars! Michaels makes a big show of scanning the crowd before finally settling on a young boy from the front row. The boy, about seven or eight, is clearly from a family that resides at the lower end of the tax bracket. The bodyguard helps the boy into the ring as Stormm addresses the child.] Stormm: Hello there, young man. What's your name? James: James. Stormm: James? Nice to meet you, James. Can you dribble a basketball? [The boy doesn't answer, he only nods his head.] Stormm: Okay. Why don't you go ahead and dribble the ball five time. Give him the ball. [The young boy is handed the orange basketball, and he begins to dribble the ball. While not the prettiest dribbling display in the world, the boy easily bounces the ball five consecutive times.] Stormm: Very good! Okay, James. If you want to win two thousand dollars, and from the looks of you, your family could use it, all you've got to do is bounce the ball. If you can bounce that ball fifteen times in a row without messing up, the two thousand dollars is all yours. Ready? [Again, the boy simply nods.] Stormm: Okay. Go. [The boy starts dribbling, and Michaels counts along with him, as do the fans.] 2... 3... 4... 5... 6... 7... 8... 9... 10... 11... 12... 13... 14... Stormm: Whoops! [The boos are loud and immediate. James looks like he about ready to cry.] Stormm: Awwwww. We didn't get to fifteen, James. You didn't get to fifteen, did you? [James slowly and sadly shakes his head.] Stormm: And what that means is that you've got to learn a cruel, hard fact of life. When you don't finish the job, you don't...get...paid! Bahahahahaha! [With that, the World Champion takes his belt, his money, AND his basketball and heads to the back leaving little James in the ring, his eyes welling up with tears.] |
| Details: [With poor James back in his seat, it is now time for the Legends Match. Right Mark Long?] Mark Long: Ladies and gentlemen, it is now time for the Legends Match! Jerry Andrews: That's right ladies and gentlemen; it is now time for our Legends Match. Al Laiman: We have been wondering who the two individuals are. There has been talk of it being Chrissy Johnson, Senor Smurf, and even the biggest name in PCW history, our first ever World Champion, Bison. I can't wait. Jerry Andrews: I did a little bit of digging and I have found out that whoever these two are, they are fighting for a Havoc Entertainment Inc. contract. Al Laiman: Apparently the rumor mill is coming to life as it was released that Justin "Stormm" Michaels was doing a bit of head hunting to expand his empire. Good for him, and without further ado, its time. Mark Long: Introducing first...accompanied by his tag team partner Machine...I give you one half of the former Tag Team Champions...SMITH! [The fans let out an audible groan as Smith walks out from the back. Not too far behind him is the absolute giant of a man known as Machine. At over seven feet tall and well over the four hundred pound mark, he's hard to miss. Also hard to miss is their ring attire. Studded leather tights and straps with demolition derby masks adorn the wrestlers as they head down the aisle. Mad Max called. He wants his wardrobe back. The Gimp called, too. Upon entering the ring, Smith removes the mask to reveal red and silver face paint. The chunk that Sadistic bit out of his face is barely even noticeable.] Mark Long: And his opponent...hailing from parts unknown...I give you...BLADE LIONHEART! [Blade blows past the curtain in a dead spring, not even taking the time to stand on the stage with his hands on his hips! His face is painted up like some kind of warrior. Maybe an ultimate one. Shoelaces choke off his biceps and his veins are coursing with adrenaline, steroids, and the power of the Warriahs! Making a couple laps around the ring, Lionheart climbs up onto the ring apron and proceeds to make a lap around the ring apron as well. He also shakes the ropes a whole bunch before finally entering the ring.] |
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| Match Details: [Let it be noted that the fans are clearly disappointed by this bullshit excuse for a Legends Match. Sure, they're former PCW stars and the fans know who they are...well, some of them recognize the guys, anyhow...but this was just a horrible swerve. Nothing else. Hell, even the action sucks as the guys just circle each other for a good long while before anything happens. And Smith has no business being in the ring with Blade Lionheart because Blade because to use his incredible size and strength advantage to completely demolish Smith! Machine watches patiently from the outside, waiting for some sort of signal from his "partner." Blade slams and suplex all over the ring, but each pinfall earns him only a two-count. Ready to turn up the volume, Blade - be sure to pick up The Definitive Bladen Walker 3 Disc DVD set today, by the way - begins unleashing some serious offense on the former Tag Team Champion. Smith attempts to put up some sort of fight, but he's completely outmatched. The fans can't take this garbage anymore. Some take the time to head to the restroom. Some consider urinating right where they sit. Several start throwing garbage into the ring. And that's when it happens. Like a flash, they're in the ring, and Blade and Smith find themselves face down on the canvas, forcing Richard Stevens to throw the match.] Winner: Draw via double disqualification |
| Details: [Wait a minute. What happened? Thank God for instant replay...and a replay of what just happened is shown again: The match is in mid-form when there is some disorder coming out of the crowd. The camera feed switches to the area that is in question and two men are being shown, making their way down the steps. The crowd pops a little due to these two men, for whom haven't been seen in years. Both men are dawning all black with t-shirts with a cross with numbers and the sign of anarchy, combined together. These two men are "The Anarchist" Jason Willard and Loco, other wise known as Tha UnHoly Alliance. The crowd is behind them for some reason. Machine simply watches from the outside.] Jerry Andrews: Hold the phone! That's Jason Willard and Loco! What in the HELL are they doing back in PCW?! [Nobody in the ring suspects a thing. TUHA enters the ring and blindsides both wrestlers, dropping them to the mat. It's at this point that the referee signals for the bell and runs for his life. Willard picks up Blade and hits an Evenflow DDT, driving him head first into the mat and rolls him out of the ring. Loco has Smith up in a fireman's carry and whips him out like an F-5, but catches his head on the way down with a DDT, completing a move he calls Crossroad to Greatness. The crowd is going crazy, only due to TUHA taking out possible employees of the loathed PCW World Champion. Loco is up and looks down at the fallen Smith. Willard joins his long time friend. Loco looks back up at Mr. Willard and the two crack a smile and then pick him up, both men apply a double front face lock and then bring Smith into the air, looking to suplex him, but they do not. Instead they stall and with the snap of their hips, Smith comes crashing down head first with a double stalling snap brain buster, the usual set up for their team move. Loco and Willard are up and now point to a certain turnbuckle, both men make their way to separate turnbuckles that are across the ring from each other, both men make their cross poses from the top rope and then they take flight at the same time. TUHA land at the same time, Willard with a high elevation frog splash and Loco a shooting star leg drop, a combination move they call Point Of Domination. The camera man is in the middle of the ring, where the UnHoly duo stands tall. Loco points to himself while staring into the camera.] Loco: Say Hello to Loco. Jason Willard: Tha Alliance is in da HOUSE! [Loco pulls a toothpick from behind his ear and flicks it into the camera. Just as they're about to make use of some spray paint on the fallen wrestlers, security floods out from the back. Deciding to save it for a rainy day, TUHA leave the ring and exit through the crowd. A couple overzealous security guards jump the guardrail after them, but it's no use. They're loooooong gone.] |
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| Match Details: [As the last remnants of security are filtering into the back, the lights suddenly go dark.] [A procession of robed Acolytes take up position along the aisle, and then Usali Basilisk enters, clad in black with a wide-brimmed hat over his silver mask. Accompanying him is the Watcher, who seems unusually pale and has ghastly dark circles around his all-seeing eyes. He holds high the Cup of the Ascension, calling out to the powers of the Underworld as he leads Basilisk to the ring. Usali slowly climbs the ring steps and stops. Holding his hands out to his sides, he slowly raises them and the lights magically resume. Upon entering the ring, the Watcher takes Basilisk's hat and robe. Now it's time for Non Compos Mentis to enter...] [Next out is Non Compos Mentis, who has dressed up for the occasion in a white button down shirt and tie adorned with a ‘have a nice day’ sticker. It looks as if he may have found this new wardrobe addition in a nearby dumpster. Entering the ring, Mentis sits in the corner contentedly rocking back and forth before Joseph Buckland gets things in order and begins the match. The match turns brutal in no time flat. Rather than go for a traditional lock up, Mentis goes straight for the standing chokehold. The referee shows a lot of discretion as the big man powers Basilisk first to the corner, and then down until the Exalted One is lying half out of the ring. Mentis steps out and runs the ring apron, dropping a huge leg on the throat of Basilisk and both men go tumbling to the floor. A monstrous brawl follows, with the men smashing each other into any hard surface they can find. Basilisk sends the Born Psycho back first into the guardrail, but the attempt to sling him into the ring post is reversed and he might have a dent in his mask after that shot. Mentis throws the Exalted One into the ring, drops a big elbow and makes the cover. One… two… Basilisk powers out of the pin and sits straight up! Basilisk jabs Mentis in the throat, adjusts his glove, jabs him in the throat, adjusts his glove, jabs him… eh, you get the idea. Mentis tries to regain control by pushing Basilisk back to the corner, but is staggered by a series of hammer blows. Basilisk cranks on an arm twist, mounts the turnbuckles, and walks out onto the ropes to deliver an old school chop. The brawl continues, with Basilisk reversing a throw to the ropes and landing a side slam. Mentis escapes a body slam attempt and delivers a vicious rear mat slam. The cover is made for one… two… Basilisk sits up again! In desperation, Mentis reaches into his pocket to produce… a dirty sock! Alas, the Mandible Claw attempt is complicated by Basilisk’s mask, which gives the Exalted One the opportunity to land some ballistic punches and a flying clothesline. Basilisk slaps on a goozle (oh, go look it up), but Mentis fights it off, executes an Irish whip, and the resulting a Cactus Clothesline sends both men tumbling over the ropes to the floor again! Both men are down on the outside, but the referee seems reluctant to count them out. Basilisk is up first, takes to Mentis with some hard stomps, and slams him onto the concrete floor. The Born Psycho is in serious trouble when Basilisk slings him first into the announce table and then into the ring steps with enough force to disassemble them. The Exalted One grabs the upper section with the clear intention of braining his opponent, but Mentis buries a knee in the gut and Basilisk suffers a double arm DDT on the floor! Basilisk just had his lights turned out, but Mentis is slow to get him in the ring. After some struggling, he rolls him inside and makes the cover. One… Two… NO! Mentis clutches his head in frustration and sends Basilisk to the ropes. Belly to belly suplex… No! Basilisk reverses it and Mentis is smashed to the mat! The Exalted One stands over his fallen opponent and slowly draws his thumb across his own throat! It’s going to be a tombstone piledriver! Basilisk has NCM up in the air...but the big man powers out and falls to his feet. Usali spins around and gets caught with a boot to the stomach...followed by the Fractured Mind! A battered Mentis makes the cover as Buckland makes the three-count! At the 12 minute and 17 second mark Non Compos Mentis repeats over Basilisk.] Winner: Non Compos Mentis via pinfall |
| Details: [In the backstage area of the Pure Class Arena, amidst a dozen or so random Pure Class Wrestling employees, stands the lovely and sultry Kassandra Black. Unlike a large majority of the PCW staff, Kassandra is not dressed to represent wrestlers of yesteryear...although that scowl on her face could be reminiscent of a young Stephanie McMahon-Helmsley. The camera begins to pan from Kassandra's face down to her heels. On the way down, the viewer can notice a microphone in Ms. Black's hand. Kassandra motions for the camera to pan back up, and once it gets a shot of her face, she begins to speak in her super sexy Australian accent.] Kassandra Black: Keep the camera on my face, buddy boy....Oh? We're live? How nice. [She takes a few seconds to refocus.] Kassandra Black: I'm backstage awaiting to speak with Skylar Marshall to try and get an answer to exactly why star of Terminator: 2, Robert Patrick, was here in the PCW at Trauma 99, and whether he had anything to do with that “Pick a $ide” campaign we've been seeing as of late. Ah, here comes Mr. Marshall now. [The camera pans to see Skylar Marshall walk into the picture.] Kassandra Black: Mr. Marshall, I appreciate you giving me this exclusive interview time with you tonight. Skylar Marshall: For you, Kassandra, anytime. Kassandra Black: Although you've been on the record as to say you have had nothing to do with the random “Pick a $ide” interruptions as of late, it was observed that Mr. Robert Patrick was seen exiting your office last week. Is there any relation to his appearance with the side picking propaganda? Skylar Marshall: If I've said it once, I've said it a million times: I have NOTHING to do with that nonsense about picking sides, and if I were a betting man, which I am not, I would bet on it being that loud, obnoxious, disgusting Alejandro Walker. “The Captain” has done nothing but increase costs around here and be an overall pain in my backside. I totally suspect that he has something to do with this smear campaign. But, I've made sure no side picking interruptions will be broadcast tonight. [Marshall looks genuinely aggravated by this whole ordeal.] Skylar Marshall: As for Mr. Patrick...it was a matter of business. Not that I like to openly discuss business, but Mr. Patrick had recently inquired about a possible open position in arena security, and I heard his pitch. Unfortunately, he didn't fit the criteria. That's all his appearance was about. Now that we have that cleared up, I have a show to continue organizing, since that buffoon Walker cannot be trusted to handle the job. If you'll excuse me... [And just like that, Mr. Marshall walks out of frame, and the feed fades out.] |
| Details: [The camera switches to a shot of the backstage area where the newly returned UnHoly Alliance have shockingly returned onto the scene. It appears both individuals are heading to the parking garage when from behind three security officers catch up to them. Both Willard and Loco turn around to stare down each one of them. The former PCW Tag Team Champions are heard being told that they are not under contract and must leave the building immediately. This garners a response from the team that they were in fact on the way out, as well as a couple unflattering remarks about the company from Willard before the two men turn to leave the area. However one of PCW’s “finest” decides to grab Willard by the arm, presumably over what he had just said. Willard is shown drawing in a long sigh and shaking his head before he spins around with a spinning roundhouse kick to the temple that drops the security guard flat on his back and out cold. Loco jumps in the fray as he lays out the second of three with a hard closed fist to the face with a sound that echoes around the garage. The third officer meets the same fate courtesy of both men as they proceed to double team him with various punches and kicks until he’s down on the ground. Slowly the gaze from Loco and Willard turn toward the first guy, the one who started this whole mess. A sinister smile comes over the faces of both as they walk towards the fallen officer. After a quick nod, Tha UnHoly Alliance picks him off the ground, hoists him high into the air and after a running start proceed to use him as a dart shooting him head first into a nearby network trailer. Da Loc One looks over at his longtime friend…] Loco: You got the bling? [Willard laughs at the question.] Willard: Ohh, you know I got the bling! [This is where Willard lifts up his right pant leg to unveil a can of silver spray paint he had with him. Walking over to where a dent has been left on the trailer, Willard pops off the cap, shakes the can and right above the newfound damage sprays “TUHA was here”. Then the can is placed away just as sirens can be heard in the parking garage.] Both: Ohh shit, the fuzz! [Loco and Willard make a quick getaway, running to a nearby limo which peels out of the garage and into the Carolina night.] |
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| Match Details: [The arena goes dark and multi-colored lights flash around the arena.] Jerry Andrews: Well, folks, this is it! The moment we've all be waiting for! [LoKi emerges from the back and something about him seems...different. His movements are more methodical and calculating. He looks as focused as he's ever been.] Jerry Andrews: LoKi has been put through hell since encountering Justin Michaels but tonight he has his chance at leveling the score. [Just as he reaches the ring he's blindsided from behind by the World Champion who charged down the aisle at top speed! He puts the boots to LoKi on the outside before stuffing him into the ring and continuing the assault all nice and legal-like.] Al Laiman: An opportunist if ever there was one, Michaels will pull out every trick in the book to stay ahead of LoKi! [The match has started and Stormm continues to work over the challenger...until LoKi connects with a jumping uppercut out of nowhere that rocks the World Champion!] Jerry Andrews: LoKi is not playing around here. Al Laiman: He’s been tormented for months, he’s not holding back now he has Stormm in the ring. [LoKi grabs Stormm’s arm and tries to whip him across the ring, only for the stunned Champion to regain his senses and reverse LoKi into the ropes. On the rebound, Michaels goes for a shoulder block and knocks The Angel of Death to the mat before hitting the ropes himself. LoKi ducks underneath, then springs to his feet to meet Stormm on the rebound with a Hip Toss. The angered Michaels gets back to his feet and rushes again, only to be met with the same move. Still with much anger to let out, Stormm sprints for LoKi once more but this time receives a dropkick to the head that drops him to the mat. Needing to regroup, he rolls to the outside and gets his breath back.] Al Laiman: Smart move by the Champion. Jerry Andrews: Or is it? [Just as Stormm begins to relax again, LoKi jumps through the ropes and blazes a trail straight for his rival. Michaels tries to escape, running around the ring and losing all the breath he had recovered before diving back into the ring. LoKi tenaciously follows but Stormm’s devious mind is in action as he tries to catch LoKi with a clothesline. Somehow LoKi ducks and carries his momentum into the opposite ropes, rebounding with a Lariat of his own. Stormm quickly gets back to his feet but he’s stunned and easy prey for another Lariat straight across the neck. Again Michaels finds his feet but this time lashes out wildly with a clothesline that LoKi ducks before dropping and hitting a Dropkick to the knee. With his opponent down and helpless, LoKi smells blood and the red mist descends, he takes a step back and lines up is aim before launching a vicious Punt straight toward the cranium of Stormm.] Jerry Andrews: Oh my… Al Laiman: No…reversal! [Stormm pulls out of the way at the very last moment and rolls LoKi backwards into a School Boy pin.] One… [LoKi rolls through the pinning predicament and reaches his feet while Stormm is still recovering, just in time to get his aim back and slam a kick straight into the side of Stormm’s head.] Jerry Andrews: ….Gawd! Al Laiman: He could be out cold! One… Two…. TH…NO! [The crowd instinctively boo at Stormm’s disgusting behaviour of actually kicking out of a pin…. That despicable man! LoKi signals for a three count but Eddie Lane signals for two. Instead of continuing this discussion with the referee, he grabs Stormm’s head and pulls him up to his feet. LoKi quickly keeps him momentum going with a collection of elbows to the head of Michaels and then whips him across the ring. On the return, LoKi ducks but is too early and Stormm takes his opportunity, slamming on the breaks and lifting a boot into his face. Quickly, Stormm grabs LoKi’s head and lifts him into the air before dropping him with a shuddering Implant DDT.] One… Two… Kick Out! [Stormm isn’t one to give up so easily though, and immediately he locks in a grounded Sleeper Hold, sapping the energy and aggression from LoKi’s body. The first Triple Crown Champion in PCW history tries to find the ropes but they’re too far, he tries to shuffle closer but Michaels has too much leverage. Lane checks for the submission but LoKi has nothing to say to him and instead begins to fight his way back to his feet. A chant begins to form in the crowd of “Come On LoKi!” and is soon mixed in with “We Hate Michaels!”. LokI uses the support from the crowd to feed his adrenaline and he find his way back up to his feet before maneuvering around and hauling Michael off the mat, dropping him on his neck with a brutal Backdrop Suplex.] Jerry Andrews: Nobody can doubt the heart of LoKi, that’s why the fans love him. [Struggling back across the mat, LoKi keeps on the pressure by locking in a Dragon Sleeper, really torqueing the neck of Stormm back. Stormm sticks out every limb as far as it will go but can’t find the ropes. It’s his turn to reply “No!” to Eddie Lane who must feel pretty rejected after being told No so often. With no way of getting a break, Stormm begins to fight his way up now and gets to his feet with a precarious balance. The technically gifted Champion has a plan though and twists suddenly in a move reminiscent of Areas two weeks earlier, reversing the Dragon Sleeper into one of his own. But this isn’t any ordinary submission as he attempts to turn it into his patented Hangcloud DDT. Stormm tries to lift LoKi off the ground and into the Reverse Implant DDT but the challenger resists. Instead he reaches over his head and around that of Stormm, pulling forward with a snapmare type move that frees him from the hold and capitalise. With Stormm facing away from him, LoKi locks him up in a Full Nelson before throwing him back overhead with a crushing Dragon Suplex, The Baal And The Dragon Suplex as LoKi refers to it. Neck pulverised, Stormm rolls desperately to the outside for some respite.] Al Laiman: You really have to be worrying for Stormm right now, LoKi really has him on the back foot. [He’s put even further on the back foot when he gets back to his feet on the outside and sees the figure of LoKi rebounding off the far ropes. Something keeps him stuck in place as LoKi throws his body through the middle ropes in an uncharacteristic, not entirely graceful, yet totally lethal, Suicide Dive. Both men slam into the floor on the outside and the crowd goes wild.] Jerry Andrews: LoKi doesn’t go through the air often but when he does it’s deadly. Al Laiman: It’s like a Killer Whale flying through the air… it’s not meant to be there but it’ll still bite your God damn head off! [LoKi gets to his feet to a huge roar and follows up by pulling Stormm from the ground and throwing him back in the ring. Following him in, LoKi goes for the pin.] One… Two… NO! [Again LoKi signals that it was three but Eddie Lane disagrees. Frustrated, LoKi gets to his feet and pulls Stormm up with him before backing him into the ropes. Just as he does, Stormm jams his thumb into the eye of LoKi but Eddie Lane isn’t in position to see it. LoKi recoils, complaining to the referee, while Stormm doesn’t even bother to protest his innocence. Instead he goes after LoKi and slams a forearm into his back.] Al Laiman: If you had any doubts on how Stormm would choose to get back into this match, shame on you. [Michaels continues to hammer away on LoKi’s back and gets him toward the ropes where he engages in even more blatant illegal tactics by pressing LoKi’s throat down on the top rope and holding it there. Lane starts his count and is sluggish to reach four at which point Michaels releases with a grin emerging on his face. Dragging LoKi off the ropes, Michaels ties him up and nails a hard Snap Suplex. Holding on, Stormm drags himself and his opponent to their feet and then changes his grip. This time he throws LoKi across the ring with a Belly to Belly Suplex. LoKi tries to get back to his feet but is met by Stormm again, who grabs him and tries to whip him across the ring. LoKi reverses though and goes for a Lariat but the battle of the reversals continues as Michaels ducks and moves behind. Still stunned, LoKi can’t defend himself when Stormm slams another forearm into his neck and locks in a Cobra Clutch.] Jerry Andrews: That’s…. a Million Dollar Dream! [Stormm locks the submission in tight and LoKi flails desperately, looking for the ropes but finding only thin air. The crowd begins to chant LoKi’s name again to will him on but there’s little they can do as he begins to fade more and more. Soon there’s barely any movement at all from the challenger and Eddie Lane moves unusually quickly to grabs his hand and raise it. He drops it with no reaction, counting one.] Jerry Andrews: He could be out cold. [Lane lifts his arm a second time and lets it drop like dead weight before counting two.] Al Laiman: Stormm is a few seconds away from retaining his title. [Gripping the limp arm of LoKi for the third time, Lane lifts it above his head and holds it for a moment, hearing the rabid chants from the fans. Finally he drops it….] Jerry Andrews: Stormm Wins! Al Laiman: No he doesn’t! [Apparently LoKi heard the chants too and instinctively he raised his hand at the very last second. Pumping his fist in unison with the fans, he tries to fight back against the strength of Stormm. Fighting toward the ropes, LoKi feeds of the energy in the arena until, finally, he reaches out and grasps the top rope. The whole arena breathes a sigh of relief… all except Stormm that is, who focuses on lifting his knee straight into the gut of LoKi. Sneaky as ever, Michaels takes advantage of his ill-gotten time and whips his opponent across the ring before attempting a Tilt-a-Whirl Backbreaker. Still with some awareness, LoKi twists the move in mid-air and delivers a spinning head scissors. With both men temporarily stunned they take a while to recover, but LoKi gets to his feet first and makes a dash for the Champion who fires a boot straight into his onrushing midsection. Out of nowhere Stormm recovers enough to grab LoKi around the back of the neck and nail a sickening, face-planting Flash Flood, a reverse Sambo Suplex.] One… Two…. THREE! Al Laiman: No! Kick out! [Stormm gives a grunt of frustration and resorts to dragging LoKi toward the ropes again. This time he places his head over the bottom rope and begins to push down with his boot, choking LoKi blatantly in front of Eddie Lane. One.. two… three… four… Michaels just breaks in time and receives a warning from the referee while LoKi gasps for air. Quickly refocusing, Stormm hauls LoKi off the mat and whips his tired body across the ring. On the rebound he goes for a scoop slam but LoKi manages to slip out behind. Using all his remaining strength, LoKi grabs Michaels from behind and lifts him into the air for the Omega Driver.] Jerry Andrews: Ragnarok! It’s over! [But it’s not over as Michaels uses the same escape method and moves behind LoKi. Now he locks in a Full Nelson and lifts LoKi into the air, going for a Full Nelson Slam. Again LoKi uses his agility and turns the move around in mid-air, grabbing Stormm’s arm and turning it into an Armdrag. Both men get to their feet and LoKi hits a boot to the gut before signalling for the end.] Al Laiman: Too much telegraphing from LoKi? [LoKi locks Stormm up for a DDT but the Champion has enough awareness to fight out and backdrops the challenger straight over his head. Before LoKi can recover fully, Stormm grabs hold of him and locks him in for the Hangcloud DDT...but LoKi slips around behind Stormm, lifts him into the air, turns him upside down, and spikes him with Ragnarok! The crowd goes berzerk as Stormm just had his lights put out in the middle of the ring. Slowly...surely...LoKi crawls over and lays across Stormm for the cover.] One... Two... THREE!!! Al Laiman: He did it! LoKi did it! Jerry Andrews: New champion! New champion! [New champion, indeed! At the 31 minute and 3 second mark, LoKi has once again become PCW's World Champion, and the fans are ecstatic!] Winners: LoKi via pinfall |
| Details: [But the celebration is short-lived as Non Compos Mentis makes his way into the ring. LoKi is cautious as the number one contender looks from LoKi to Stormm, who is still on the mat. Finally, with a smile, NCM extends his hand, and the fans erupt once more.] Jerry Andrews: I think Mentis is just happy that somebody finally put that rich snob in his place! [LoKi and NCM shake hands warmly...and Mentis decides to kick Loki in the gut and plant him with the Fractured Mind!!! The belt goes flying and the fans can't believe it! Garbage flies once again as the Born Psycho simply stares down at the new champion. Behind Mentis, Stormm slowly climbs to his feet. Looking back, NCM slowly turns his attention to Michaels. Stormm is still holding his neck when Mentis strikes! Another Fractured Mind later and now Stormm is down on the mat...again!] Jerry Andrews: I would say that NCM has lost his mind...but we've known that for a long time! Al Laiman: Non Compos Mentis is sending a message: At PCW Deception...that belt is his! [Rather than take the belt, NCM unceremoniously drops it on LoKi's chest before leaving the ring. We have a new World Champion and carnage is everywhere!] |
Lantlas d. Jeremy Bagwell via pinfall Grimm & Nacho Grande draw via double disqualification Areas, High Tide & Justin Kaard draw via triple countout Heavy Metal d. Sadistic via pinfall Dazz d. Jeremy Bagwell via pinfall Smith & Blade Lionheart draw via double disqualification Non Compos Mentis d. Usali Basilisk via pinfall LoKi d. Justin Michaels via pinfall |
Grimm vs. Nacho Grande
Areas vs. Rumble Royale Winner
Heavy Metal vs. Sadistic
Justin "Stormm" Michaels vs. LoKi