Post by stoopidstu on Mar 25, 2011 11:10:31 GMT -5
[[ The clips start with Simon Sensation casually walking in to his office and taking a seat at his table looking conceited with himself. It cuts to images of various wrestlers coming off the top rope, the most impressive being James Chaos coming off with a moonsault in slow motion.]]
Extreme ways are back again
Extreme places I didn't know
I broke everything new again
Everything that I'd owned
I threw it out the windows, came along
Extreme ways I know
Apart the colours of my sea
Perfect colour me
[[ Moby’s ‘Extreme Ways continues playing as various clips continue to play such as Stu-E Price holding the Texas Television Championship which is followed by Terry Marvin lifting the Southwestern Heavyweight Title, but after the former Champions are shown holding the respective belts with pride. ]]
Extreme ways that help me
Help me out late at night
Extreme places i had gone
But never seen any light
Dirty basements, dirty noise dirty places coming through
Extreme worlds alone
Did you ever like it planned
[[ Another montage of clips come to the forefront, Ace Andrews nails a snap suplex on Bryan Deas, which cuts to Shadow striking Terry Marvin with a steel chair which in turn switches to Backspace drilling Lucas Sensation with a huge clothesline. ]]
I would stand in line for this
There's always room in life for this
Oh baby, oh baby then it fell apart, it fell apart
Oh baby, oh baby then it fell apart, it fell apart
Oh baby, oh baby then it fell apart, it fell apart
Oh baby, oh baby like it always does, always does
[[ Adam Linn flashes up on screen next, merely standing in the ring enjoying the cheers from the fans, which cuts to DJ Clay walking down the aisle which then cuts to Paige stepping through the ropes before El Doucho Baggo is climbing the top turnbuckle, raising his arms in the air in a smoke filled bar. ]]
Extreme songs that told me
They helped me down every night
I didn't have much to say
I didn't get above the light
I closed my eyes and closed myself
And closed my world and never opened up to anything
That could get me along
I had to close down everything
I had to close down my mind
Too many things to cover me
Too much can make me blind
I've seen so much in so many places
So many heartaches,
So many faces
So many dirty things
You couldn't believe
[[ Marty Valens flashes up next, splintering a guitar in to a thousand pieces over the head of Bryan Deas as Christopher O’ Toole looks on, which cuts to Michael Fandango attacking Stu-E Price before Storm Front are seen completing their poetry in motion. ]]
I would stand in line for this
It's always good in life for this
Oh baby, oh baby then it fell apart, it fell apart
Oh baby, oh baby then it fell apart, it fell apart
Oh baby, (oh baby) oh baby (oh baby)
Then it fell apart (feel apart), it fell apart (it fell apart)
Oh baby, (oh baby) oh baby (oh baby)
Like it always does(always does), always does (always does)
[[ The music fades, the scene follows suit to earlier yesterday with Arturius Strong at the airport handing his passport to the TSA. For some reason they’re not too happy with him, they pass his passport amongst themselves shaking their heads in disbelief. ]]
Strong: “What’s going on here?”
Passport Officer: “I’m sorry Sir, follow these men to a side room for further interrogation.”
Strong: “Excuse me?! Just let me board the flight, it flies out in twenty five minutes!”
Passport Officer: “You’ll be done in no time, Sir, I promise.”
[[ The passport officer smiles as Strong just looks pissed off, he follows the other workers to a side room, the door slams shut. The sound of a scuffle inside spills out of the room. ]]
Strong: “WHAT THE HELL?! GET OFF ME! WHY ARE YOU WEARING THOSE GLOVES?!”
[[ Arturius’ screams can be heard through the light weight door as further sounds of a scuffle continue to filter through. ]]
Strong: “NO FLY LIST?!! TERRORIST?!! BULLSHIT!”
[[ With that last shout the scene switches all the way to the present, to the small sports hall located deep within The Dolphin Centre in Darlington, England. The crowd looks to be a packed house, which means you’d be looking at about one and half thousand fans ready for a night of wrestling action. Even the space around the wrestling ring itself is limited because they’ve tried to get in as many bodies as possible. Sitting at a table at ringside are the commentators, two guys totally unknown to fans of Ring of Pride; Pete Roberts and Fred Estridge who last worked some years ago in Firk’n Hardcore Wrestling. ]]
Peter Roberts: “Welcome one and all to the FIRST Meltdown to take place LIVE in Darlington, England! With a small, but intense crowd of about 1500 strong here in The Dolphin Centre!”
Fred Estridge: “Home of dolphins?”
Peter Roberts: “No, Darlington’s premier leisure centre.”
Fred Estridge: “Those English pricks. Why can’t they just call it the Kleenex Center, or the Nabisco Arena, or some product that I know about. Where’s the corporate sponsorship?”
Peter Roberts: “Well maybe The Dolphin Centre is a company.”
Fred Estridge: “Yes, Pete. The main manufacturers of cages for dolphins. How silly of me.”
Peter Roberts: “Well we’ve got a great crowd of Brits here. They’re all ready to cheer on their favourite wrestler, Ring of Pride’s number one Brit, Stu-E Price!!!”
Fred Estridge: “You’re only saying that because he paid us so well!”
Peter Roberts: “Maybe so, but you should be doing the same.”
Fred Estridge: “I suppose so.”
Peter Roberts: “Fred?”
Fred Estridge: “Yeah?”
Peter Roberts: “Aren’t you going to say something about this fine country?”
Fred Estridge: “Nope.”
Peter Roberts: “What about how these people smell?”
Fred Estridge: “Nothing.”
Peter Roberts: “Their food?”
Fred Estridge: “Nada.”
Peter Roberts: “How about the cars they drive or the clothes they wear or the silly way they talk?”
Fred Estridge: “I got nothing.”
Peter Roberts: “Well then why don’t you tell us all about the amazing things you’ve seen here in Darlington since you’ve been here.”
Fred Estridge: “Um…”
[[ The Camera pans close onto Fred’s sweating face, he stares blankly into the abyss as the shot lasts several uncomfortable seconds of just dead air. ]]
Peter Roberts: “Fred?”
[[ More close ups of Fred, this time the camera is right on his sweating, nervous nostrils followed by a close up of his eyes as he blinks. ]]
Peter Roberts: “Surely there has to be something here in Darlington that is worth seeing.”
[[ Fred is still just staring blankly, he starts foaming at the mouth. ]]
Peter Roberts: “Oookay! Well, Fred is in some sort of brain stall here, so I’ll get to the rundown of the card. In our main event we have a rematch between ‘The Billionaire Brawler’ and ‘England’s Favourite Wrestler’ and from the information I was handed on the way out here, the title will be on the line….Fred?”
Fred Estridge: “Is… it time to get… hardcore again, yet?”
Peter Roberts: “No, not yet. What’s wrong with you, Fred?”
Fred Estridge: “This place, Pete…This place is so god damn boring…it’s making me ill.”
Peter Roberts: “What about the Train Museum?”
[[ Silence from Fred Estridge as he foams at the mouth some more. ]]
Peter Roberts: “Well, okay. Folks, before the Main Event we have a stacked card featuring Marty Valens going up against his friend and tag team partner, Christopher O’ Toole; will the team last or will one side ruin it for the other?”
Fred Estridge: “Trains…”
Peter Roberts: “We’ve also got Bryan Deas warming up for his big match against Linn by battling the fast rising DJ Clay, who I’m excited about watching him wrestle.”
Fred Estridge: “Choo…ch…oooooooo…”
Peter Estridge: “But that’s not all folks as we’ll also be having the privilege of watching two of Ring of Pride’s fastest rising stars in El Doucho Baggo and Mickey Fandango squaring off to just see who will be taking that next step up the ladder of recognition here.”
Fred Estridge: “Is that it now?”
Peter Estridge: “No, certainly not Fred because we’ve got a tag team collision between two new teams in Blood Money matching up against Kazuo Honda and Takeshi Hongo in a match that surely will be a showcase both for the fans here and the four guys in that ring.”
Fred Estridge: “Now can I say it?”
Peter Roberts: “You know what, sure; go ahead buddy.”
Fred Estridge: “I’ve waited almost three years to say this, and here we go.... Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time... to get HARDCORE!”
Peter Roberts: “Three years and you couldn’t come up with anything new?”
Fred Estridge: “If it ain’t broke, then don’t try to fix it!”
Peter Roberts: “No wonder you’ve been unemployed so damned long.”
Fred Estridge: “Shut it Pete, for your own good.”
[[ Peter simply sighs, but with a smile on his face as the Disturbed track ‘Innocence’ begins to play over the P.A system, which brings the fans attention to the small entrance way. ]]
Announcer: “About to make his way to the ring for the first match of the evening, he weighs in at 225lbs and stands at 6’4”. Hailing from Bridgeport, Connecticut he is known in some circles as ‘The Mercenary’ , he is JUSTICE BLACKSTONE!”
[[ As he makes his way out, the crowd respond with a mixed reaction. Walking down the aisle he seems focused at the task in hand, wasting no time to plead for acceptance from the fans. ]]
Peter Roberts: “No gimmicks needed for this man, somewhat a veteran in this business compared to some of his opponents tonight.”
Announcer: “And his opponent, standing at 5’ 9” and tipping the scales at 317lbs. Coming to you from Blair, Nebraska and known as ‘Cannibal’ this.... JOHN D. TIMM!!!”
[[ ‘Coming Undone’ by Korn replaces the Disturbed song as John D. Timm wanders down to the ringside area, a reception matched by the first wrestler in the match. ]]
Announcer: “And their opponent from Toronto, Otario in Canada, he is a lightweight wrestler weighing in at 181lbs, standing at 5’7” and simply known as JAMES CHAOS!”
[[ Linkin Park is the next band over the P.A system as their hit ‘One Step Closer’ blares out as Chaos walks through the curtain to a chorus of boos, the wrestling fans being pretty knowledgeable when it comes to wrestlers alignment so far. ]]
Announcer: “Rounding off this Fatal Four Way match is a man hailing from Albany, New York. Standing at 6’9” and tipping the scales at 276lbs he is... DANN SAVAGE!!!!”
[[ ‘Down With The Sickness’ by Disturbed is the next entrance theme to play as again, the fans in attendance keep to the script and boo Savage as he makes his way to the ring, although he doesn’t seem to care about that. ]]
Peter Roberts: “So here we go, our opening match of a truly international episode of Meltdown; you won’t know the arena we’re in or the commentators before you but that doesn’t matter because Ring of Pride is still bringing you the same action you’ll struggle to find anywhere else.”
Fred Estridge: “Fun like a biscuit!”
Peter Roberts: “Fred, try to be original.”
Fred Estridge: “No.”
Peter Roberts: “Savage is the first one to make a move here, going directly for the smallest competitor in the ring, James Chaos.”
Fred Estridge: “Everybody loves a good bully!”
Peter Roberts: “They go for a lock up but James is taken down with a stiff knee to the gut while Blackstone and Timm are simply throwing in rights and lefts to each other’s head. Savage has pushed Chaos in to the corner and his hitting some hard looking knee strikes, almost folding James up in the corner.”
Fred Esridge: “Like an accordion?”
Peter Roberts: “Yes, Fred. On the other side of the ring the wild punching has subsided in to more a wrestling contest, Justice leads with a collar and elbow tie up before snapping up, hooking Cannibal’s head and drilling him down with a DDT.”
Fred Estridge: “You think he’s drilling for oil?”
Peter Roberts: “Well, I’ve never heard that one before.”
Fred Estridge: “Thank you!”
Peter Roberts: “Savage is really manhandling James in the corner, but with Timm down Blackstone is free to attack the larger wrestler. He jumps up, wrapping his arm around Savage’s neck, yanks back and nails a Scorpion Death Drop to take the big man down. James watches, and scales the top rope... DOUBLE FOOT STOMP! Right in to the guts of Dann Savage!”
Fred Estridge: “We almost found out what he had for lunch right there!”
Peter Roberts: “Blackstone turns around just as Cannibal is stirring, grabbing him by the head and raising him up to his feet, he hooks his head in, lifts his body up and brings him down with a suplex, but Justice isn’t finished yet, as he nails a second suplex and goes up for another one but wait....”
Fred Estridge: “Where is he going?”
Peter Roberts: “He’s managed to carry Timm’s body weight to reposition himself, and he suplexes him down a third time, only this time he releases him on top of Dann Savage!”
Fred Estridge: “And here’s Chaos!”
Peter Roberts: “ANOTHER DOUBLE FOOT STOMP!”
Fred Estridge: “The fans are loving those foot stomps!”
Peter Roberts: “Justice turns his attention to James, who quickly slides through his legs and jumps up almost as quickly to nail a dropkick, that sends Blackstone tumbling forwards in to the ropes. He turns around but is quick enough to catch Chaos’ kick to the gut.... ENZUGUIRI!”
Fred Estridge: “And for the first time tonight we take the action to the floor!”
Peter Roberts: “Blackstone shakes the cobwebs but James wastes no time, running to the corner, springing off the second rope and vaulting over the ropes, down to Blackstone, nailing a picture perfect elbow to the side of his head, both guys are on the floor now.”
Fred Estridge: “I’m guessing these two guys are the front runners for this match.”
Peter Roberts: “That’s very astute, seeing as the other two are still in a heap in the corner, Fred.”
Fred Estridge: “Hey, I’m out of practice!”
Peter Roberts: “As expected, James Chaos gets to his feet and rolls in to the ring, noticing both guys just coming around. They’re both using each other to get to their feet as Chaos runs towards them, he sets himself up by jumping off the knee of Dann Savage and kneeing John. D. Timm square in the jaw; this kid is damned impressive tonight!”
Fred Estridge: “But he’s an arrogant prick.”
Peter Roberts: “He’s taking a little time to celebrate, he’s deserved it so far.”
Fred Estridge: “Not in my 1997 state of mind.”
Peter Roberts: “Dann Savage is awake though, he’s smirking before swinging in with a huge lariat, right to the back of James’ head, who goes down hard to the floor.”
Fred Estridge: “He deserved ‘that’.”
Peter Roberts: “SPEAR!!”
Fred Estridge: “That came from nowhere!”
Peter Roberts: “Justice Blackstone going for the pin on Savage!”
1..
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Thre...
Fred Estridge: “Almost!”
Peter Roberts: “I’d have to agree with you there but it looks like Justice Blackstone is wasting no time, he drags Dann up by the head... UNYIELDING RESOLVE!!!”
Fred Estridge: “A wha?”
Peter Roberts: “You’re never working in this business again!”
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3....
Announcer: “The winner of this match via pin fall; Justice Blackstone!!!”
Peter Roberts: “Justice certainly took advantage there, it might have been a quick match but when you’ve got four guys in the ring and it seems like only two of them had their heart in it, you have got to expect the unexpected.”
Fred Estridge: “Meh, this is a free show not a pay-per-view; who cares!”
Peter Roberts: “You REALLY aren’t working after this show, are you?”
Fred Estridge: “Probably not.”
[[Hiroshi Furukawa’s “Into The Battlefield II” starts up with a simple riff and the crowds starts to boo before anyone even appears. Honda walks out first with a confident strut basking the hatred of the fans right on his heels follows the calm and collective Hongo with a japanese flag over his shoulders like a cape, who just scowls at the fans, both men do a slow bow before starting to walk down the rampway along to the beat. ]]
Announcer: “Introducing first from Japan at a combined weight of 405lbs, the team of the ‘Modern Day Samurai’ Takeshi Hongo and his partner, Kazuo Honda; this is... THE RENEGADES!!!!!”
[[ Honda jumps around warming up with rushes at the fans roaring at them and sticking his tongue out tauntingly while Hongo seems to ignore the fans completely holding up the flag with pride. They make it to ringside and while Hongo walks up the ring steps, steps over the top rope and lays the flag on the corner Honda takes some steps back and rushes under the bottom rope. The two men psyche each other up and slap hands as the music dies down. ]]
Announcer: “And there opponents hailing from, New York and Washington and coming in at a combined weight of 464lbs is the partnership of Jack Woltz, Deicide also known as... BLOOD MONEY!!!! ]]
[[ "Bloodhail" comes to life as Jack Woltz & Deicide push out from the curtain and head towards the ring, not even stopping for the fans, entering through the steel steps, and lounge against opposing turnbuckles, waiting for the match to begin. ]]
Peter Roberts: “This Blood Money team look like they’re not messing around.”
Fred Estridge: “They probably just want to get out of this town quicker than I do.”
Peter Roberts: “WHAT THE?!”
Fred Estridge: “Now that’s what I’m talking about!”
Peter Roberts: “Has the bell even rung?”
Fred Estridge: “Thankfully not!”
Peter Roberts: “Kazuo Honda is swinging that chair like a mad man! Both members of Blood Money are taking hits, with little to no success of blocking or just plain getting the hell of out of dodge!”
Fred Estridge: “It’s like watching good cop, bad cop here; the other guy isn’t even moving.”
Peter Roberts: “This Honda guy is a nut job!”
Fred Estridge: “I’m definitely not going to wave at him.”
Peter Roberts: “I think that was too soon, thank God they can’t hear you from here.”
Fred Estridge: “Yes indeed!”
Peter Roberts: “Finally we get some semblance of sense now, Honda is dragging the bigger Diecide to the outside of the ring, what’s this?”
Fred Estridge: “Some people will call those sex toys, Pete.”
Peter Roberts: “He’s handcuffing him to the bottom rope?! He’s pretty much making this match a handicap match!”
Fred Estridge: “I think I’m going to put my money on these crazy Japs to win this one.”
Peter Roberts: “Honda rolls back in to the ring, surveying the damage he’s just done Hongo is still relaxed in the corner, they bow before Honda takes his place on the ring apron. Jack Woltz doesn’t know where he is, he’s struggling to get to his feet.”
Fred Estridge: “Can I say it Pete?”
Peter Roberts: “Say what, Fred?”
Fred Estridge: “You know what I’m going to say, think I should?”
Peter Roberts: “Hey, it’s your career you’re flushing down the toilet.”
Fred Estridge: “Ha! Blood Money have been PEARL HARBOURED!”
Peter Roberts: “You want to follow that up with a face palm?”
Fred Estridge: “No, I’m done.”
Peter Roberts: “Woltz is trying to shake the cobwebs while the legal man Takeshi is awaiting his arrival in the middle of the ring. Jack takes a step forward, Takeshi just grins before running forward.... SAMURAI LARIAT!”
Fred Estridge: “He almost took him out of his boots!”
Peter Roberts: “But he’s not done yet, he’s picking him up by the head and hooking him in tight.... HAYABUSA DRIVER!”
Fred Estridge: “Blood Money haven’t even got out of the starting blocks, this really is a debut to forget.”
Peter Roberts: “Something you know everything about.”
Fred Estridge: “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”
Peter Roberts: “You’ll figure it out tomorrow! But right now Takeshi is simply resting his foot on the chest of Jack Woltz.”
1..
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Announcer: “The winners of this tag team collision; THE RENEGADES!!!!!!!”
Fred Estridge: “Takeshi didn’t even sweat! You think with him being the ‘Modern Day Samurai’ there’s others out there?”
Peter Roberts: “I hope not, being as vicious as these two are.”
Fred Estridge: “I hope so, we can have ‘The Road Samurai’ and ‘The Classic Samurai’, or even ‘The Ultimate Samurai’!”
Peter Roberts: “Are you being serious?”
Fred Estridge: “Well...”
Peter Roberts: “Talking about serious, this next match might sound a bit of fun but that’s pretty far from the truth.”
Fred Estridge: “What the hell is a ‘Rhythm & Bruise’ match anyway?”
Peter Roberts: “It’s almost anything goes.”
Fred Estridge: “Almost?”
Peter Roberts: “Yeah, musical instruments are legal.”
Fred Estridge: “Just musical instruments?”
Peter Roberts: “That’s what I said.”
Fred Estridge: “So if one guy wanted to take a flute and ram it up his opponents ass, ripping his spandex and stirring his stockpile of turd like a whipped ice cream, that would be legal?”
Peter Roberts: “Hopefully we won’t see that, but yes.”
Fred Estridge: “PAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA I LOVE IT!”
Announcer: “About to enter the ring to compete in the ‘Rhythm & Bruise Match’, walking the aisle together as their tag team, The All Night Dance Party; introducing first MARTY ‘THE PARTY’ VALENS and his tag team partner CHRISTOPHER O’ TOOLE!!!!”
[[ ‘Peggy Sue’ starts to play and Marty Valens makes his way out onto the ramp, flanked by his proteges Anna and Christopher. Valens "picks" away at his guitar as he walks down to the ring with Anna and Christopher looking awkwardly at each other and shrugging toward Valens' actions. ]]
Peter Roberts: “I don’t know about you Fred, but I can sense a little tension between Christopher and Marty as they made their way to the ring.”
Fred Estridge: “Like sexual?”
Peter Roberts: “No Fred, you idiot.”
Fred Estridge: “Wha?”
Peter Roberts: “O’ Toole has made his way to one corner with the lovely Anna by his side, Valens is in the opposite corner looking down at the various musical instruments strewn across the ring. Christopher takes the same approach, remembering Valens already came down with a guitar so picking up the one in front of him.”
Fred Estridge: “If these guys start playing ‘Kum By Yah’ we fucking riot, Peter!”
Peter Roberts: “Not likely, Valens has just swung for O’ Toole but just missed, looks like Christopher is taken back by this.”
Fred Estridge: “They might be tag team partners, but ‘somebody’ has to take the initiative.”
Peter Roberts: “That’s actually a good point, Fred.”
Fred Estridge: “It’s all coming back to me now, Pete!”
Peter Roberts: “O’ Toole swings his guitar, again it’s a missed shot but now Marty isn’t looking to impressed!”
Fred Estridge: “Good friends, better enemies?”
Peter Roberts: “Or they could be fucking with us, Fred.”
Fred Estridge: “Would they do that?”
Peter Roberts: “Let’s just say it wouldn’t surprise me, Marty has swung again and miraculously O’ Toole is still standing.”
Fred Estridge: “Coincidence? We’ve all seen Pulp Fiction, they should have got shot in that scene, but they just didn’t.”
Peter Roberts: “I don’t think that’s a fair comparison.”
Fred Estridge: “Man, I’m hungry; can somebody go get me a La Royale with cheese?”
Peter Roberts: “WOAH! Both guys swung at the same time! Both guitars collided and split in to a thousand pieces! SPEAR!!!!!!”
Fred Estridge: “I knew it wouldn’t take long!”
Peter Roberts: “Marty has taken the advantage while Anna is not impressed on the outside of the ring, he’s got O’ Toole in a head lock and he’s pummelling him, Christopher is trying to wiggle free but he just can’t get out of the way.”
Fred Estridge: “This is great!”
Peter Roberts: “Gradually the fight is being taken out of O’ Toole, enough for Valens to get to his feet and look for another weapon. He’s got the drum!”
Fred Estridge: “Is that a snare drum? We don’t want Lars Ulrich suing for gimmick infringement!”
Peter Roberts: “I’m not sure, I’m a Miley Cyrus fan.”
Fred Estridge: “Wha?”
Peter Roberts: “Moving on... Valens is stalking O’ Toole with that drum, he raises it up and.... BLAM! Christopher’s head goes right through the skin, I didn’t expect Valens to be aggressive as he is right now.”
Fred Estridge: “Hey, the winner’s purse is worth obliterating your friends and tag team partners!”
Peter Roberts: “What’s Marty got in mind now? He’s picking up the flute!”
Fred Estridge: “SODOMY!”
Peter Roberts: “He swings for O’ Toole’s head, who ducks out of the way, he throws a punch.”
Fred Estridge: “NUT SHOT!”
Peter Roberts: “Valens has dropped the flute, O’ Toole picks it up and starts choking his partner with it, he shuffles to the side.... SIDE RUSSIAN LEGSWEEP WITH THE FLUTE!”
Fred Estridge: “Can we get to the sodomy?”
Peter Roberts: “I hope you’re just reminiscing about Pulp Fiction some more!”
Fred Estridge: “Um... yes.”
Peter Roberts: “O’ Toole takes the broken drum from his head and throws it down at Valens before picking him up in a scoop slam, and slamming him down hard across the drum, that is instantly flattened.”
Fred Estridge: “Well that drum beat sure went flat.”
Peter Roberts: “Well that’s weird, the fans seem to be cheering on Christopher O’ Toole here! He’s glancing in to the crowd, not really sure what to make of the reception.”
Fred Estridge: “Damn these fans are fickle!”
Peter Roberts: “Christopher goes to pick Valens up, but No! Marty nails a low blow, O’ Toole slumps to the floor holding his crotch; Anna didn’t like that one bit!”
Fred Estridge: “Of course, she’s a whore!”
Peter Roberts: “Marty picks up O’ Toole, leading him to the corner... Those are some nasty looking knife edge chops!”
[[ WOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! WOOOOOOOOOOOO!! WOOOOOOOOOO!! ]]
Fred Estridge: “I hate it when the crowd do that.”
Peter Roberts: “Marty now looking for that flute, he finds it in the middle of the ring and stands like a baseball player, ready to swing.”
Fred Estridge: “We’re in England, he should be standing like a Cricketer!”
Peter Roberts: “OH MY GOD! He just broke the flute in half over O’ Toole’s head!”
Fred Estridge: “He’s bleeding like a fourteen year old Darlington girl losing her virginity!”
Peter Roberts: “Fred?!”
Fred Estridge: “Sorry... He’s bleeding like a stuck pig?”
Peter Roberts: “Valens drags his partner in to the middle of the ring and hooks the leg.....”
1..
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Thr.....
Fred Estridge: “He kicked out?”
Peter Roberts: “Valens is beside himself here, he can’t believe his tag team partner had the audacity to kick out of the pin attempt!”
Fred Estridge: “Like I said, the winner’s purse is more important!”
Peter Roberts: “Marty gets up to his feet, he looks down at Christopher and then down at the arena floor where Anna is banging on the ring apron.”
Fred Estridge: “You think he wants to tap that?”
Peter Roberts: “I think he’s got something else in my mind to be honest.”
Fred Estridge: “What else could be on his mind when he’s looking at her?”
Peter Roberts: “HE JUST KICKED HIS HEAD OFF HIS SHOULDERS!”
Fred Estridge: “Calm down, this isn’t Mortal Kombat!”
Peter Roberts: “O’ Toole MUST be knocked out after that! Valens is going for the pin...”
1..
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Thre.....
Fred Estridge: “He kicked out!”
Peter Roberts: “Marty Valens is pissed off but the crowd are giving O’ Toole all the love in the World tonight!”
Fred Estridge: “Fickle, fickle, fickle!”
Peter Roberts: “This is different guy we’re seeing in the ring tonight in Valens, he doesn’t usually wrestle like this.”
Fred Estridge: “It’s called teaching your partner a lesson in respect, showing him who the leader is.”
Peter Roberts: “To be fair, I don’t think O’ Toole even asked the question! Valens is picking him up, he whips him in to the ropes, throws him up in the air... CUTTER!! THE DAY THE MUSIC DIED!!!”
1..
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Fred Estridge: “The day this tag team almost died if you asked me!”
Peter Roberts: “Marty is just leaving his tag team partner in the middle of the ring, he’s still down.”
Fred Estridge: “He’ll be there for a while.”
Peter Roberts: “But listen to these fans Fred, they’re giving him a standing ovation!”
Fred Estridge: “A standing ovation doesn’t pay the bills Pete!”
Peter Roberts: “I wonder if the next match can live up to the standards the Rhythm & Bruise match set.”
Fred Estridge: “With a guy called El Doucho Baggo in it, I hope so!”
Announcer: “About to walk down the aisle, he stands at 5’11” and weighs in at 220lbs and he’s coming from Manchester, ENGLAND; he is MICKEY FANDANGO!!!”
[[ Out steps Fandango to thunderous cheers, purely based on the fact he’s from England. Jaya the Cat’s “Hello Hangover” is almost drowned out as he gets to the ring, rolls under the bottom rope and simply enjoys the reception he’s receiving. ]]
Announcer: “And his opponent from Chicago, Illinois; he stands at 6’8” and he’s weighing in at 289lbs... EL DOUCHO BAGGO!”
[[ No music, no pyro, no fancy entrance; El Doucho Baggo simply walks down the aisle to a chorus of boos as he shouts obscenities at random members of the crowd, some of them even throw their drinks at him, sadly missing. ]]
Fred Estridge: “What a difference in fan appeal tonight.”
Peter Roberts: “Well, Fandango is from England.”
Fred Estridge: “Racists!”
Peter Roberts: “Here we go, both guys enter the centre of the ring.... I expected a standard collar and elbow tie up but Fandango is right in there with a clinch, he throws in a couple of elbows, Baggo answers back with a couple of knees.”
Fred Estridge: “What is this shit?”
Peter Roberts: “Well since you and I have been away from the business, a new one has gotten popular; mixed martial arts.”
Fred Estridge: “Mixed martial arts?”
Peter Roberts: “That’s what I said, Fred.”
Fred Estridge: “Never heard of it.”
Peter Roberts: “Really?”
Fred Estridge: “Yeah, I mean I’ve heard people talking about it but I thought they were talking about painting.”
Peter Roberts: “What?”
Fred Estridge: “Painting is an art, Peter.”
Peter Roberts: “Oh gee, and now I know.”
Fred Estridge: “And knowing is half the battle.”
Peter Roberts: “You moron! Back to the action and the referee has split them up, Fandango is trying to kick out at Baggo who is always just that little bit out of reach.”
Fred Estridge: “I’m bored.”
Peter Roberts: “The crowd aren’t too pleased with this sort of contest.”
Fred Estridge: “Ha! I love it, Baggo and Mickey just flipped the crowd off!”
Peter Roberts: “Now we get a collar and elbow tie up, Baggo wins that with an arm drag, Fandango goes tumbling but is right back up to his feet. They lock up and now it’s Mickey who wins the tie up, dishing out a matching arm drag.”
Fred Estridge: “I expected more from these guys, it’s almost like they’re being respectful.”
Peter Roberts: “That can be a good thing from time to time.”
Fred Estridge: “Yeah, when I’m not watching it.”
Peter Roberts: “Doucho bounces back off the ropes, trying to get some speed up as he charges Fandango, who is clever enough to notice and drops him with a drop toe hold, Baggo’s face smacks off the apron.”
Fred Estridge: “The fans are cheering now?”
Peter Roberts: “Fandango hooks Doucho’s leg, leans across his back and attempts an S.T.F.”
Fred Estridge: “Not going to get it like that!”
Peter Roberts: “Baggo is flailing his elbows around, and striking every so often, which weakens Mickey’s grip who gives up the attempt and gets to his feet, waiting for Doucho to rise up.”
Fred Estridge: “KICK HIM WHEN HE’S DOWN!”
Peter Roberts: “Doucho is back up, Mickey dives in for a double leg takedown but Doucho avoids it. As Fandango’s head is titled down, Baggo nails a hard punch to his jaw.”
Fred Estridge: “I like this El Doucho Baggo guy.”
Peter Roberts: “Mickey drops to his knees, Baggo dropkicks him in the face!”
Fred Estridge: “I REALLY like this guy!”
Peter Roberts: “Doucho pulls Mickey up by the head, but he fights out of it almost, ending up with his back towards Baggo!”
Fred Estridge: “He’s lifting him up!”
Peter Roberts: “Beautiful belly to back suplex by Doucho Baggo! He stays on him, dragging him back up and pulling him in to the corner.”
Fred Estridge: “What’s he doing now?”
Peter Roberts: “He’s measuring him up for either an elbow or a kick, Fandango seems a little out of it!”
Fred Estridge: “My money is on El Doucho Baggo!”
Peter Roberts: “He runs in, jumps in the air for a kick to the head of Mickey who drops to his feet to avoid it; El Doucho Baggo has crotched himself in the corner!”
Fred Estridge: “That bastard was playing possum!”
Peter Roberts: “Mickey pulls Doucho down in to a tree of woe and kicks him a few times, he takes a few steps back and jumps in with a dropkick to the face; Baggo flops off the corner and crumples in to a heap.”
Fred Estridge: “Now the British guy is heading to the top rope... and waiting?”
Peter Roberts: “El Doucho Baggo staggers up to his feet, Mickey hooks his feet over his shoulders, could it be... victory roll?”
Fred Estridge: “I’m shocked Doucho can carry that man on his shoulders right now, he’s ego must be over a tonne!”
Peter Roberts: “Baggo staggers forwards with Fandango on his shoulders, who is circling his arms for balance, he rolls down going for the victory roll!”
1..
2...
3!!!!!!!
Fred Estridge: “He got him?!”
Peter Roberts: “El Doucho Baggo blocked the victory roll!”
Announcer: “The winner of this match via a pin fall; EL DOUCHO BAGGO!!!!”
Fred Estridge: “I told you my guy would win!”
Peter Roberts: “He was lucky, I’ll give him that.”
Fred Estridge: “What’s next?”
Peter Roberts: “Well, we’ve got the semi main event up next.”
Fred Estridge: “Oh yeah, I’m excited to see this Bryan Deas guy.”
Peter Roberts: “Oh really?”
Fred Estridge: “Yeah, I met him backstage; he told me how great he was.”
Peter Roberts: “Damn you’re gullible.”
[[ The lights go down, An Italian flag is illuminated on the mini stage while on the smaller than usual creen we see a Cadillac shield and the name Clay on it. The music begins with a bit of spoken word... "Starting off in the southwest side of town... We find our boy DJ Clay fighting his way out of yet another sticky situation."
The spot hits DJ standing on the stage head down but bumping to the music Slowly the chant of DJ Clay fades in with the chant continuing for 20 seconds. His head is down the whole time his fist pumps in the air to the cheer. There is a loud cheer, His head raises with a Guido's smile. The lyrics begin to flow:
"Ever since i was young,
I been around guns,
I was born in the Hood,
Can't help where i'm from,
Heartbeat like a drum
In the Beat just for yall
and my blood off in each and every sound
I'll beat your stuff
If you wanna get tough
We a hundred mile deep
with the guns and the jags
Got the things that boom
even things that cut
'swhy we all where we at
And you all where you not..."
He walks down the ramp slowly shaking out his arms and Listening to his Manager Linn. He cracks his neck and keeps walking slowly.
Double laced till the day
I'm face down in my own
Let 'em bleed till they bleed
In a puddle of they own...
He begins his walk around the ring looking at the crowd as the song hits it's hook
"YOU AINT FROM ROUND HERE
YOU GET LET DOWN HERE
THIS IS THAT SOUND... *pop pop pop pop*
WE ALL FEAR"
He jumps up on to the apron and Hops over the ropes as the hook repeats 3 times with him going to each corner telling the crowd he ain't goin nowhere... ]]
Announcer: “Standing in the ring at this time with his manager, Linn. Standing at 6’ and tipping the scales at 210lbs, he has arrived here from Hackensack, New Jersey; this is ‘THE GUIDO’ DJ... CLAY!!!!!!!”
Fred Estridge: “Now that’s an entrance!”
Peter Roberts: “And the crowd are showing their appreciation too.”
[[ Reckless Fortune’s ‘Why I Sing The Blues’ begins to play as Bryan Deas wanders down the entrance way to a very mixed reaction from these fans. He seems pretty focused as he gets to the ring, never taking his eyes away from Linn as he gets in to the ring. ]]
Announcer: “And his opponent, a member of ‘The Business’ standing at 6’3” and weighing in at 280lbs he hails from Hollywood, California; this is ‘THE BALLISTIC ONE’ BRYAN... DEAS!!!!!!!”
Fred Estridge: “See, Bryan Deas is where it’s at.”
Peter Roberts: “We’ll see! Although he’s making a dumb move by shouting at Linn on the outside of the ring, if he’s not too lucky, Clay could...”
Fred Estridge: “He could do what he’s doing right now?”
Peter Roberts: “Exactly! Clay starts nailing some clubbing shots to Bryan’s back before whipping him across the ring, Deas comes back and his back dropped for his troubles.”
Fred Estridge: “You think this Clay guy is a real DJ?”
Peter Roberts: “I don’t know. He picks Bryan up by the head, hitting a quick DDT.”
Fred Estridge: “He could be, I’ve heard of wrestling clowns and monks but never a wrestling DJ.”
Peter Roberts: “I’m not even going to warrant your gibberish with a reply.”
Fred Estridge: “Well who got out of the wrong side of bed this morning?”
Peter Roberts: “Clay is staying on the attack, leading Deas in to the corner and nailing some lightning fast knife edge chops!”
[[ WOOOOOOOO! WOOOOOOOOO! WOOOOOOOOO! ]]
Fred Estridge: “I hate these people....”
Peter Roberts: “Deas tries to fight back, he kicks DJ in the gut a couple of times, for a brief moment Clay is stunned, Bryan lifts him up and drops him back down with a scoop slam!”
Fred Estridge: “See, he’s just getting warmed up!”
Peter Roberts: “Bryan kicks Clay in the head, then hits an elbow drop across his chest. He rolls to the side and gets up, dragging Clay up by the hair, which the referee doesn’t care about, hooks him and lifts him up in to a vertical suplex!”
Fred Estridge: “4.... 5... 6.... 7.... 8.... 9......”
Peter Roberts: “Bryan finally drops Clay to the mat from that suplex!”
Fred Estridge: “But where is he going?”
Peter Roberts: “He should stay focused on his opponent, not go and have a conversation with the guys manager!”
Fred Estridge: “Ha! He’s just pointing out what he’s done!”
Peter Roberts: “Bryan rolls back in to the ring, Clay has just gotten to feet and throws a punch towards Deas. It connects, but there’s not much behind it as Bryan immediately returns with a punch of his own. They trade blows, Bryan seemingly getting the better of the confrontation as Clay is stepping back.”
Fred Estridge: “This is the Ballistic Show right here!”
Peter Roberts: “Bryan ducks a punch, and charges forward, shoulder barging Clay in the gut, he repeats a couple of times to take the wind out of him.”
Fred Estridge: “Not long now for Simply Ballistic!”
Peter Roberts: “You really are a fanboy, aren’t you?”
Fred Estridge: “I wouldn’t go that far...”
Peter Roberts: “Bryan swings in with a big punch to the face, pulls him in to the middle of the ring and... POWERBOMB!”
Fred Estridge: “Drop the bomb, Bryan!”
Peter Roberts: “He picks Clay up and whips him in to the ropes, Bryan executes a beautiful powerslam, DJ could be in trouble here!”
Fred Estridge: “He was in trouble from the moment this match was booked!”
1..
2....
Thr.....
Peter Roberts: “He managed to kick out of that one! Bryan doesn’t skip a beat though, scooping Clay up around his waist and dropping him down in backbreaker!”
Fred Estridge: “I know what’s next!”
Peter Roberts: “Bryan walks over to Clay’s legs, picks them up and looks down at Linn with a smile on his face.”
Fred Estridge: “BALLISTICATOR!!!!!”
Peter Roberts: “Clay is reaching out for the ropes but he just can’t get to them! He’s taken some high impact moves here so far.”
Fred Estridge: “It’s over for this wrestling DJ!”
Peter Roberts: “He’s stirring, Clay pushes himself up with his arms; he’s almost got out of it... Now Linn is on the apron!”
Fred Estridge: “CHEAT!”
Peter Roberts: “Bryan lets go of his variation of the sharpshooter and walks over to Linn who just drops back down to ringside... Clay is back to his feet though!”
Fred Estridge: “ROLL-UP!”
1..
2...
Thre....
Peter Roberts: “He almost got him! But Bryan kicked out with such force it sent Clay in to the ropes, he turns around and charges at Bryan... SPINE BUSTER!”
Fred Estridge: “Bryan saw him coming!”
1..
2...
Thre.....
Peter Roberts: “DJ Clay managed to kick out of that pin, he’s showing some serious resiliency tonight.”
Fred Estridge: “But that won’t matter!”
Peter Roberts: “Both men get their feet, Bryan heads towards Clay... T-BONE EXPLODER! How did he have the energy for that move?!”
Fred Estridge: “Still not going to matter!”
Peter Roberts: “Guido picks him up... GUIDO BOMB!!!”
1..
2...
Thre......
Fred Estridge: “Bryan Deas is awesome!”
Peter Roberts: “Guido is taken by surprise here, what can he do to win this match?”
Fred Estridge: “He can’t do anything, Bryan Deas is winning this match!”
Peter Roberts: “I know we’re in Darlington, England but folks; WELCOME TO NEW JERSEY!”
Fred Estridge: “NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!”
Peter Roberts: “Bryan is fighting it!”
Fred Estridge: “REACH THE ROPES BRYAN, POKE HIM IN THE EYE; DO SOMETHING!”
Peter Roberts: “The only thing he can do is tap out here!”
Fred Estridge: “YOU CAN DO IT BRYAN!”
Peter Roberts: “And... He’s reaching up.... He’s..... He’s TAPPING!”
Fred Estridge: “NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!”
Peter Roberts: “Clay gets the win!”
Announcer: “The winner of this match, via a submission; DJ CLAY!!!!!!!”
Fred Estridge: “I am shocked, I really am.”
Peter Roberts: “As Clay is leaving the ring, the fans show their appreciation while Bryan Deas is looking pretty pissed off in the middle of the ring.”
[[ The entire arena goes to black, and the screen flickers into life with some static. As the static starts getting clear it starts to show four Ace cards between flashes of static. After a few seconds the static leaves to have just an image of the Four Ace cards. After a few seconds the Ace cards turn sideways and fly towards the camera and the text 'YOU'RE GONNA GET ACED!' flashes on and off, going faster and faster until finally some pyro explodes and the PA System kicks in.
Rollin' the dice
Never thinkin' twice
A single golden light illuminates the stage, and from the back out struts Ace Andrews! Ace is dressed in a simple pair of long black tights, with two Ace cards on ace leg, and ‘THE ACE’ written on the trunk in big white letters. He is also wearing a singlet, with a picture of his face on the front, and the back has the words YOU HAVE JUST BEEN ACED! He pauses at the top of the ramp, holding both arms out wide, and then turning his back to the crowd before turning to face them again. He starts to stroll down the ramp, looking out at one side of the crowd, then the other as he paces leisurely to the ring.
Announcer: “Approaching the ring right now, he weighs 220lbs and stands at 220lbs; known as ‘The Billionaire Brawler’, from Las Vegas, Nevada this is.... ACE ANDREWS!!!!!!!!”
Peter Roberts: “And it’s time for our main event of the evening... but Bryan Deas is still at ringside!”
Fred Estridge: “He’s supporting his buddy!”
[[ ‘Kashmir’ by Escala begins to play, as soon as it starts the crowd begin to go wild, blowing the roof off the place; Ace Andrews is taken back a bit, looking around the now rabid crowd. Stu-E walks out on to the entrance way and the noise just gets louder. He’s wearing the Ring of Pride Texas Television Title around his waist, which looks a bit different, like there’s extra layers to it.
‘England’s Favourite Wrestler’ walks down the aisle enjoying the reception from his home town fans, as he gets to the ring even Ace Andrews rolls out of the ring for him. As Price gets in to the ring, he climbs the turnbuckle and slowly raises his arms to continue cheering from the fans. ]]
Announcer: “Standing in the ring hailing from right here in Darlington, England he stands at 5’11” and weighs in at 230lbs; he is known as ‘England’s Favourite Wrestler’ and is the current holder of the Ring of Pride ‘Texas Television Title’ he is.... STU-E PRICE!!!!!!!!”
Peter Roberts: “What is Bryan doing?”
Fred Estridge: “He’s standing up for himself!”
Peter Roberts: “Ace Andrews has spotted Bryan and went after him! Stu-E is oblivious as this is going on!”
Fred Estridge: “YES!”
Peter Roberts: “Bryan Deas just knocked Andrews down with a big boot to the face!”
Fred Estridge: “See, Deas is awesome!”
Peter Roberts: “He’s doing the right thing by leaving the scene right now though! But Andrews is chasing after him!”
Fred Estridge: “RUN BRYAN, RUN!”
Peter Roberts: “He gets through to the curtain, within a few moments Ace has gotten there.... but there’s no cameras; what’s going on there?”
Fred Estridge: “Bryan is kicking his ass, that’s what!”
Peter Roberts: “I don’t think so! Andrews just came back, a man with a kicked ass wouldn’t be smiling like Ace is right now!”
Fred Estridge: “Has the bell rung?! Count him out, ref!”
Peter Roberts: “It didn’t get chance to, Fred; Stu-E is just watching Andrews walk down the aisle looking confused. Andrews rolls in the ring and stands back in his respective corner.”
Announcer: “This is our Main Event of the evening; one fall to a finish, the match will see Ace Andrews versus Stu-E Price and they will be fighting tonight for the prized, and famous; BELMONT CHAMPIONSHIP!”
Peter Roberts: “The what?”
Fred Estridge: “The Belmont Championship, did you not hear the announcer?”
Peter Roberts: “Ace Andrews is pissed off! Stu-E takes off the Texas Televison Title and underneath it he had the Belmont Championship waiting! He takes that one off and tosses it to the referee.”
Fred Estridge: “What a belt that is, Peter!”
Peter Roberts: “Ace Andrews doesn’t think the same!”
Fred Estridge: “How dare he throw that to the outside of the ring!”
Peter Roberts: “Stu-E is just laughing, obviously he sees that title as a joke too.”
Fred Estridge: “They don’t deserve that belt!”
Peter Roberts: “They lock up in a collar and elbow, Ace breaks it to throw in a punch, before going back in to the grappling, he scoops Price up and drops him in a body slam.”
Fred Estridge: “Price didn’t like that much!”
Peter Roberts: “He sits with a smirk on his face before getting up and going back to a collar and elbow tie up, again Andrews breaks to punch, goes back in to the collar and wlbow, but slips behind Price... GERMAN SUPLEX!”
Fred Estridge: “It’s looking like Ace Andrews just knows what to expect here tonight!”
Peter Roberts: “Again, Stu-E sitting with a smirk on his face, he gets back up to his feet and takes a few steps forward...”
Fred Estridge: “Triple 7!”
Peter Roberts: “I think you’ll find that was a Stun Cutter, Fred!”
Fred Estridge: “Oh yeah, sorry....”
Peter Roberts: “Price leans back in the corner, allowing his opponent to shake the cobwebs and get to his feet; the crowd are cheering as both guys take a few steps forward...”
Fred Estridge: “Stun Cutter!”
Peter Roberts: “You idiot, Fred, you idiot.”
Fred Estridge: “Triple 7 this time?”
Peter Roberts: “Correctomundo!”
Fred Estridge: “This match is a bit like tennis so far, I think.”
Peter Roberts: “Ugh... Ace now wasting no time, pulling up Price who allows himself to be pulled up until he clasps his hands around Andrews... SAMBO SUPLEX!”
Fred Estridge: “He was tricking him all a long!”
Peter Roberts: “Ace tries to get up to his feet, but Price leaps in the air... he connects with the rocker dropper!”
Fred Estridge: “Andrews’ head bounced off the mat right there!”
Peter Roberts: “Bounced right back up in to Stu-E’s leg in a whiplash effect, that really has turned the tide! Now Stu-E is scaling the top rope!”
Fred Estridge: “I’ve not seen him crack this one out in a long, long time!”
Peter Roberts: “He leaps off with the frog splash.... NOTHING BUT CANVASS!”
Fred Estridge: “And I’ve not seen him hit that move in even longer!”
Peter Roberts: “Ace rolls back over towards Price, making a cover.”
1..
2....
Fred Estridge: “Quick kick out there!”
Peter Roberts: “Andrews now waiting in the corner...”
Fred Estridge: “Stu-E just coming to, I don’t think he knows where he is..”
Peter Roberts: “THE FLOP.... NO!!”
Fred Estridge: “PRICE TAG.... NO!”
Peter Roberts: “THE FLOP AGAIN.... NO!”
Fred Estridge: “PRICE TAG ATTEMPT.... NO!”
Peter Roberts: “He kicked him in the nuts!”
Fred Estridge: “The crowd are booing the shit out of Andrews for that play!”
Peter Roberts: “Andrews dives in for a waist lock.... Northern Lights Suplex and the hometown hero is down on the mat!”
Fred Estridge: “Andrews making the most of it, running the ropes...”
Peter Roberts: “Lionsault!”
1..
2..
Thre....
Fred Estridge: “The Belmont Championship stays at home!”
Peter Roberts: “Ace Andrews gets up, grabbing a hand full of hair to bring Price up with him, he scoops him up going for a bodyslam!”
Fred Estridge: “Price is wriggling free!”
Peter Roberts: “He drops behind Ace who turns around, who is in turn picked up... INVERTED TOMBSTONE!”
Fred Estridge: “Not seen that move in while, either.”
Peter Roberts: “Both guys are down on the mat, the match hasn’t been all that long but both guys have been bringing out the heavy guns!”
Fred Estridge: “Because the Belmont Championship means so much!”
Peter Roberts: “I somehow doubt that very much.”
Fred Estridge: “Well it must mean something.”
Peter Roberts: “As Stu-E is making his way to his feet, Ace Andrews is rolling out of the ring, he’s heading towards the Belmont Championship he threw away just earlier.”
Fred Estridge: “Gold is gold, my friend.”
Peter Roberts: “Stu-E has his back turned while Andrews crawls back in the ring with the belt, this could be bad.”
Fred Estridge: “Or this could be brilliant!”
Peter Roberts: “The referee has noticed the belt, thankfully he’s admonishing Ace in the corner... what the?”
Fred Estridge: “Relax, he didn’t hit the referee!”
Peter Roberts: “He just picked him up and put him in the corner, so he could shout at him! BRITISH POUND OUT OF NOWHERE!”
Fred Estridge: “Good night referee!”
Peter Roberts: “Stu-E didn’t know the referee was there!”
Fred Estridge: “Oh yeah, of course he didn’t.”
Peter Roberts: “Price pulls Andrews in to the middle of the ring, drops down to the floor, he’s locking in the crippler crossface!”
Fred Estridge: “There’s no referee, Ace could tap out right now if he wanted to, and it wouldn’t make a difference.”
Peter Roberts: “Which is what he’s doing right now!”
Fred Estridge: “Stu-E’s waiting for the bell, it’s not coming.”
Peter Roberts: “He’s released the hold and headed over to the referee, he’s shaking but there’s not much response going on.”
Fred Estridge: “Now where is he going?”
Peter Roberts: “Stu-E’s pulling some tables out from under the ring, he’s setting them up diagonally outside the corner post.... this is bringing some memories back.”
Fred Estridge: “Ass cushion by any chance?”
Peter Roberts: “He’s reaching under the ring..... he’s got the ass cushion! The square block of foam with a belt attached! The crowd are going crazy!”
Fred Estridge: “Ace Andrews had better start waking up round about now!”
Peter Roberts: “Stu-E has got the ass cushion attached to his ass, he gets back in the ring and pulls Ace up, he lifts him up and sits him in the corner facing the fans.”
Fred Estridge: “If he nails this then it really is lights out for Andrews, forget the pay-per-view!”
Peter Roberts: “Stu-E steps out of the ring and walks along the ring apron to the corner, climbing up on it.... he’s going for it, he’s lifting Andrews up in the piledriver position.”
Fred Estridge: “Time for a Price Drop!”
Peter Roberts: “NO! NO! NO!”
Fred Estridge: “HOLY SHIT!”
Peter Roberts: “ANDREWS FOUGHT OUT OF IT, THEY LOST THEIR BALANCE!”
Fred Estridge: “This match has just got to be over, it’s got to be, this is sick!”
Peter Roberts: “THEY BOTH WENT HEAD FIRST THROUGH THE TABLES! IF THEIR NECKS AIN’T SNAPPED IT’S A MIRACLE!”
Fred Estridge: “Thank God, thank God for the referee! Count them out, please!”
Peter Roberts: “That’s the sensible thing to do right now, he’s looking down at them, he glances over to the timekeeper... the bell rings, what’s the decision?”
Announcer: “Ladies and Gentlemen the referee has stopped the contest; this match is a draw!”
[[ The fans are ans are cheering on their feet for the safety of both wrestlers, the clash between former and current Television Champion had been a brutal, tragic way to end a successful night, when something happened.. ]]
Extreme ways are back again
Extreme places I didn't know
I broke everything new again
Everything that I'd owned
I threw it out the windows, came along
Extreme ways I know
Apart the colours of my sea
Perfect colour me
[[ Moby’s ‘Extreme Ways continues playing as various clips continue to play such as Stu-E Price holding the Texas Television Championship which is followed by Terry Marvin lifting the Southwestern Heavyweight Title, but after the former Champions are shown holding the respective belts with pride. ]]
Extreme ways that help me
Help me out late at night
Extreme places i had gone
But never seen any light
Dirty basements, dirty noise dirty places coming through
Extreme worlds alone
Did you ever like it planned
[[ Another montage of clips come to the forefront, Ace Andrews nails a snap suplex on Bryan Deas, which cuts to Shadow striking Terry Marvin with a steel chair which in turn switches to Backspace drilling Lucas Sensation with a huge clothesline. ]]
I would stand in line for this
There's always room in life for this
Oh baby, oh baby then it fell apart, it fell apart
Oh baby, oh baby then it fell apart, it fell apart
Oh baby, oh baby then it fell apart, it fell apart
Oh baby, oh baby like it always does, always does
[[ Adam Linn flashes up on screen next, merely standing in the ring enjoying the cheers from the fans, which cuts to DJ Clay walking down the aisle which then cuts to Paige stepping through the ropes before El Doucho Baggo is climbing the top turnbuckle, raising his arms in the air in a smoke filled bar. ]]
Extreme songs that told me
They helped me down every night
I didn't have much to say
I didn't get above the light
I closed my eyes and closed myself
And closed my world and never opened up to anything
That could get me along
I had to close down everything
I had to close down my mind
Too many things to cover me
Too much can make me blind
I've seen so much in so many places
So many heartaches,
So many faces
So many dirty things
You couldn't believe
[[ Marty Valens flashes up next, splintering a guitar in to a thousand pieces over the head of Bryan Deas as Christopher O’ Toole looks on, which cuts to Michael Fandango attacking Stu-E Price before Storm Front are seen completing their poetry in motion. ]]
I would stand in line for this
It's always good in life for this
Oh baby, oh baby then it fell apart, it fell apart
Oh baby, oh baby then it fell apart, it fell apart
Oh baby, (oh baby) oh baby (oh baby)
Then it fell apart (feel apart), it fell apart (it fell apart)
Oh baby, (oh baby) oh baby (oh baby)
Like it always does(always does), always does (always does)
[[ The music fades, the scene follows suit to earlier yesterday with Arturius Strong at the airport handing his passport to the TSA. For some reason they’re not too happy with him, they pass his passport amongst themselves shaking their heads in disbelief. ]]
Strong: “What’s going on here?”
Passport Officer: “I’m sorry Sir, follow these men to a side room for further interrogation.”
Strong: “Excuse me?! Just let me board the flight, it flies out in twenty five minutes!”
Passport Officer: “You’ll be done in no time, Sir, I promise.”
[[ The passport officer smiles as Strong just looks pissed off, he follows the other workers to a side room, the door slams shut. The sound of a scuffle inside spills out of the room. ]]
Strong: “WHAT THE HELL?! GET OFF ME! WHY ARE YOU WEARING THOSE GLOVES?!”
[[ Arturius’ screams can be heard through the light weight door as further sounds of a scuffle continue to filter through. ]]
Strong: “NO FLY LIST?!! TERRORIST?!! BULLSHIT!”
[[ With that last shout the scene switches all the way to the present, to the small sports hall located deep within The Dolphin Centre in Darlington, England. The crowd looks to be a packed house, which means you’d be looking at about one and half thousand fans ready for a night of wrestling action. Even the space around the wrestling ring itself is limited because they’ve tried to get in as many bodies as possible. Sitting at a table at ringside are the commentators, two guys totally unknown to fans of Ring of Pride; Pete Roberts and Fred Estridge who last worked some years ago in Firk’n Hardcore Wrestling. ]]
Peter Roberts: “Welcome one and all to the FIRST Meltdown to take place LIVE in Darlington, England! With a small, but intense crowd of about 1500 strong here in The Dolphin Centre!”
Fred Estridge: “Home of dolphins?”
Peter Roberts: “No, Darlington’s premier leisure centre.”
Fred Estridge: “Those English pricks. Why can’t they just call it the Kleenex Center, or the Nabisco Arena, or some product that I know about. Where’s the corporate sponsorship?”
Peter Roberts: “Well maybe The Dolphin Centre is a company.”
Fred Estridge: “Yes, Pete. The main manufacturers of cages for dolphins. How silly of me.”
Peter Roberts: “Well we’ve got a great crowd of Brits here. They’re all ready to cheer on their favourite wrestler, Ring of Pride’s number one Brit, Stu-E Price!!!”
Fred Estridge: “You’re only saying that because he paid us so well!”
Peter Roberts: “Maybe so, but you should be doing the same.”
Fred Estridge: “I suppose so.”
Peter Roberts: “Fred?”
Fred Estridge: “Yeah?”
Peter Roberts: “Aren’t you going to say something about this fine country?”
Fred Estridge: “Nope.”
Peter Roberts: “What about how these people smell?”
Fred Estridge: “Nothing.”
Peter Roberts: “Their food?”
Fred Estridge: “Nada.”
Peter Roberts: “How about the cars they drive or the clothes they wear or the silly way they talk?”
Fred Estridge: “I got nothing.”
Peter Roberts: “Well then why don’t you tell us all about the amazing things you’ve seen here in Darlington since you’ve been here.”
Fred Estridge: “Um…”
[[ The Camera pans close onto Fred’s sweating face, he stares blankly into the abyss as the shot lasts several uncomfortable seconds of just dead air. ]]
Peter Roberts: “Fred?”
[[ More close ups of Fred, this time the camera is right on his sweating, nervous nostrils followed by a close up of his eyes as he blinks. ]]
Peter Roberts: “Surely there has to be something here in Darlington that is worth seeing.”
[[ Fred is still just staring blankly, he starts foaming at the mouth. ]]
Peter Roberts: “Oookay! Well, Fred is in some sort of brain stall here, so I’ll get to the rundown of the card. In our main event we have a rematch between ‘The Billionaire Brawler’ and ‘England’s Favourite Wrestler’ and from the information I was handed on the way out here, the title will be on the line….Fred?”
Fred Estridge: “Is… it time to get… hardcore again, yet?”
Peter Roberts: “No, not yet. What’s wrong with you, Fred?”
Fred Estridge: “This place, Pete…This place is so god damn boring…it’s making me ill.”
Peter Roberts: “What about the Train Museum?”
[[ Silence from Fred Estridge as he foams at the mouth some more. ]]
Peter Roberts: “Well, okay. Folks, before the Main Event we have a stacked card featuring Marty Valens going up against his friend and tag team partner, Christopher O’ Toole; will the team last or will one side ruin it for the other?”
Fred Estridge: “Trains…”
Peter Roberts: “We’ve also got Bryan Deas warming up for his big match against Linn by battling the fast rising DJ Clay, who I’m excited about watching him wrestle.”
Fred Estridge: “Choo…ch…oooooooo…”
Peter Estridge: “But that’s not all folks as we’ll also be having the privilege of watching two of Ring of Pride’s fastest rising stars in El Doucho Baggo and Mickey Fandango squaring off to just see who will be taking that next step up the ladder of recognition here.”
Fred Estridge: “Is that it now?”
Peter Estridge: “No, certainly not Fred because we’ve got a tag team collision between two new teams in Blood Money matching up against Kazuo Honda and Takeshi Hongo in a match that surely will be a showcase both for the fans here and the four guys in that ring.”
Fred Estridge: “Now can I say it?”
Peter Roberts: “You know what, sure; go ahead buddy.”
Fred Estridge: “I’ve waited almost three years to say this, and here we go.... Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time... to get HARDCORE!”
Peter Roberts: “Three years and you couldn’t come up with anything new?”
Fred Estridge: “If it ain’t broke, then don’t try to fix it!”
Peter Roberts: “No wonder you’ve been unemployed so damned long.”
Fred Estridge: “Shut it Pete, for your own good.”
[[ Peter simply sighs, but with a smile on his face as the Disturbed track ‘Innocence’ begins to play over the P.A system, which brings the fans attention to the small entrance way. ]]
Announcer: “About to make his way to the ring for the first match of the evening, he weighs in at 225lbs and stands at 6’4”. Hailing from Bridgeport, Connecticut he is known in some circles as ‘The Mercenary’ , he is JUSTICE BLACKSTONE!”
[[ As he makes his way out, the crowd respond with a mixed reaction. Walking down the aisle he seems focused at the task in hand, wasting no time to plead for acceptance from the fans. ]]
Peter Roberts: “No gimmicks needed for this man, somewhat a veteran in this business compared to some of his opponents tonight.”
Announcer: “And his opponent, standing at 5’ 9” and tipping the scales at 317lbs. Coming to you from Blair, Nebraska and known as ‘Cannibal’ this.... JOHN D. TIMM!!!”
[[ ‘Coming Undone’ by Korn replaces the Disturbed song as John D. Timm wanders down to the ringside area, a reception matched by the first wrestler in the match. ]]
Announcer: “And their opponent from Toronto, Otario in Canada, he is a lightweight wrestler weighing in at 181lbs, standing at 5’7” and simply known as JAMES CHAOS!”
[[ Linkin Park is the next band over the P.A system as their hit ‘One Step Closer’ blares out as Chaos walks through the curtain to a chorus of boos, the wrestling fans being pretty knowledgeable when it comes to wrestlers alignment so far. ]]
Announcer: “Rounding off this Fatal Four Way match is a man hailing from Albany, New York. Standing at 6’9” and tipping the scales at 276lbs he is... DANN SAVAGE!!!!”
[[ ‘Down With The Sickness’ by Disturbed is the next entrance theme to play as again, the fans in attendance keep to the script and boo Savage as he makes his way to the ring, although he doesn’t seem to care about that. ]]
Peter Roberts: “So here we go, our opening match of a truly international episode of Meltdown; you won’t know the arena we’re in or the commentators before you but that doesn’t matter because Ring of Pride is still bringing you the same action you’ll struggle to find anywhere else.”
Fred Estridge: “Fun like a biscuit!”
Peter Roberts: “Fred, try to be original.”
Fred Estridge: “No.”
Peter Roberts: “Savage is the first one to make a move here, going directly for the smallest competitor in the ring, James Chaos.”
Fred Estridge: “Everybody loves a good bully!”
Peter Roberts: “They go for a lock up but James is taken down with a stiff knee to the gut while Blackstone and Timm are simply throwing in rights and lefts to each other’s head. Savage has pushed Chaos in to the corner and his hitting some hard looking knee strikes, almost folding James up in the corner.”
Fred Esridge: “Like an accordion?”
Peter Roberts: “Yes, Fred. On the other side of the ring the wild punching has subsided in to more a wrestling contest, Justice leads with a collar and elbow tie up before snapping up, hooking Cannibal’s head and drilling him down with a DDT.”
Fred Estridge: “You think he’s drilling for oil?”
Peter Roberts: “Well, I’ve never heard that one before.”
Fred Estridge: “Thank you!”
Peter Roberts: “Savage is really manhandling James in the corner, but with Timm down Blackstone is free to attack the larger wrestler. He jumps up, wrapping his arm around Savage’s neck, yanks back and nails a Scorpion Death Drop to take the big man down. James watches, and scales the top rope... DOUBLE FOOT STOMP! Right in to the guts of Dann Savage!”
Fred Estridge: “We almost found out what he had for lunch right there!”
Peter Roberts: “Blackstone turns around just as Cannibal is stirring, grabbing him by the head and raising him up to his feet, he hooks his head in, lifts his body up and brings him down with a suplex, but Justice isn’t finished yet, as he nails a second suplex and goes up for another one but wait....”
Fred Estridge: “Where is he going?”
Peter Roberts: “He’s managed to carry Timm’s body weight to reposition himself, and he suplexes him down a third time, only this time he releases him on top of Dann Savage!”
Fred Estridge: “And here’s Chaos!”
Peter Roberts: “ANOTHER DOUBLE FOOT STOMP!”
Fred Estridge: “The fans are loving those foot stomps!”
Peter Roberts: “Justice turns his attention to James, who quickly slides through his legs and jumps up almost as quickly to nail a dropkick, that sends Blackstone tumbling forwards in to the ropes. He turns around but is quick enough to catch Chaos’ kick to the gut.... ENZUGUIRI!”
Fred Estridge: “And for the first time tonight we take the action to the floor!”
Peter Roberts: “Blackstone shakes the cobwebs but James wastes no time, running to the corner, springing off the second rope and vaulting over the ropes, down to Blackstone, nailing a picture perfect elbow to the side of his head, both guys are on the floor now.”
Fred Estridge: “I’m guessing these two guys are the front runners for this match.”
Peter Roberts: “That’s very astute, seeing as the other two are still in a heap in the corner, Fred.”
Fred Estridge: “Hey, I’m out of practice!”
Peter Roberts: “As expected, James Chaos gets to his feet and rolls in to the ring, noticing both guys just coming around. They’re both using each other to get to their feet as Chaos runs towards them, he sets himself up by jumping off the knee of Dann Savage and kneeing John. D. Timm square in the jaw; this kid is damned impressive tonight!”
Fred Estridge: “But he’s an arrogant prick.”
Peter Roberts: “He’s taking a little time to celebrate, he’s deserved it so far.”
Fred Estridge: “Not in my 1997 state of mind.”
Peter Roberts: “Dann Savage is awake though, he’s smirking before swinging in with a huge lariat, right to the back of James’ head, who goes down hard to the floor.”
Fred Estridge: “He deserved ‘that’.”
Peter Roberts: “SPEAR!!”
Fred Estridge: “That came from nowhere!”
Peter Roberts: “Justice Blackstone going for the pin on Savage!”
1..
2...
Thre...
Fred Estridge: “Almost!”
Peter Roberts: “I’d have to agree with you there but it looks like Justice Blackstone is wasting no time, he drags Dann up by the head... UNYIELDING RESOLVE!!!”
Fred Estridge: “A wha?”
Peter Roberts: “You’re never working in this business again!”
1..
2...
3....
Announcer: “The winner of this match via pin fall; Justice Blackstone!!!”
Peter Roberts: “Justice certainly took advantage there, it might have been a quick match but when you’ve got four guys in the ring and it seems like only two of them had their heart in it, you have got to expect the unexpected.”
Fred Estridge: “Meh, this is a free show not a pay-per-view; who cares!”
Peter Roberts: “You REALLY aren’t working after this show, are you?”
Fred Estridge: “Probably not.”
[[Hiroshi Furukawa’s “Into The Battlefield II” starts up with a simple riff and the crowds starts to boo before anyone even appears. Honda walks out first with a confident strut basking the hatred of the fans right on his heels follows the calm and collective Hongo with a japanese flag over his shoulders like a cape, who just scowls at the fans, both men do a slow bow before starting to walk down the rampway along to the beat. ]]
Announcer: “Introducing first from Japan at a combined weight of 405lbs, the team of the ‘Modern Day Samurai’ Takeshi Hongo and his partner, Kazuo Honda; this is... THE RENEGADES!!!!!”
[[ Honda jumps around warming up with rushes at the fans roaring at them and sticking his tongue out tauntingly while Hongo seems to ignore the fans completely holding up the flag with pride. They make it to ringside and while Hongo walks up the ring steps, steps over the top rope and lays the flag on the corner Honda takes some steps back and rushes under the bottom rope. The two men psyche each other up and slap hands as the music dies down. ]]
Announcer: “And there opponents hailing from, New York and Washington and coming in at a combined weight of 464lbs is the partnership of Jack Woltz, Deicide also known as... BLOOD MONEY!!!! ]]
[[ "Bloodhail" comes to life as Jack Woltz & Deicide push out from the curtain and head towards the ring, not even stopping for the fans, entering through the steel steps, and lounge against opposing turnbuckles, waiting for the match to begin. ]]
Peter Roberts: “This Blood Money team look like they’re not messing around.”
Fred Estridge: “They probably just want to get out of this town quicker than I do.”
Peter Roberts: “WHAT THE?!”
Fred Estridge: “Now that’s what I’m talking about!”
Peter Roberts: “Has the bell even rung?”
Fred Estridge: “Thankfully not!”
Peter Roberts: “Kazuo Honda is swinging that chair like a mad man! Both members of Blood Money are taking hits, with little to no success of blocking or just plain getting the hell of out of dodge!”
Fred Estridge: “It’s like watching good cop, bad cop here; the other guy isn’t even moving.”
Peter Roberts: “This Honda guy is a nut job!”
Fred Estridge: “I’m definitely not going to wave at him.”
Peter Roberts: “I think that was too soon, thank God they can’t hear you from here.”
Fred Estridge: “Yes indeed!”
Peter Roberts: “Finally we get some semblance of sense now, Honda is dragging the bigger Diecide to the outside of the ring, what’s this?”
Fred Estridge: “Some people will call those sex toys, Pete.”
Peter Roberts: “He’s handcuffing him to the bottom rope?! He’s pretty much making this match a handicap match!”
Fred Estridge: “I think I’m going to put my money on these crazy Japs to win this one.”
Peter Roberts: “Honda rolls back in to the ring, surveying the damage he’s just done Hongo is still relaxed in the corner, they bow before Honda takes his place on the ring apron. Jack Woltz doesn’t know where he is, he’s struggling to get to his feet.”
Fred Estridge: “Can I say it Pete?”
Peter Roberts: “Say what, Fred?”
Fred Estridge: “You know what I’m going to say, think I should?”
Peter Roberts: “Hey, it’s your career you’re flushing down the toilet.”
Fred Estridge: “Ha! Blood Money have been PEARL HARBOURED!”
Peter Roberts: “You want to follow that up with a face palm?”
Fred Estridge: “No, I’m done.”
Peter Roberts: “Woltz is trying to shake the cobwebs while the legal man Takeshi is awaiting his arrival in the middle of the ring. Jack takes a step forward, Takeshi just grins before running forward.... SAMURAI LARIAT!”
Fred Estridge: “He almost took him out of his boots!”
Peter Roberts: “But he’s not done yet, he’s picking him up by the head and hooking him in tight.... HAYABUSA DRIVER!”
Fred Estridge: “Blood Money haven’t even got out of the starting blocks, this really is a debut to forget.”
Peter Roberts: “Something you know everything about.”
Fred Estridge: “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”
Peter Roberts: “You’ll figure it out tomorrow! But right now Takeshi is simply resting his foot on the chest of Jack Woltz.”
1..
2...
3.....
Announcer: “The winners of this tag team collision; THE RENEGADES!!!!!!!”
Fred Estridge: “Takeshi didn’t even sweat! You think with him being the ‘Modern Day Samurai’ there’s others out there?”
Peter Roberts: “I hope not, being as vicious as these two are.”
Fred Estridge: “I hope so, we can have ‘The Road Samurai’ and ‘The Classic Samurai’, or even ‘The Ultimate Samurai’!”
Peter Roberts: “Are you being serious?”
Fred Estridge: “Well...”
Peter Roberts: “Talking about serious, this next match might sound a bit of fun but that’s pretty far from the truth.”
Fred Estridge: “What the hell is a ‘Rhythm & Bruise’ match anyway?”
Peter Roberts: “It’s almost anything goes.”
Fred Estridge: “Almost?”
Peter Roberts: “Yeah, musical instruments are legal.”
Fred Estridge: “Just musical instruments?”
Peter Roberts: “That’s what I said.”
Fred Estridge: “So if one guy wanted to take a flute and ram it up his opponents ass, ripping his spandex and stirring his stockpile of turd like a whipped ice cream, that would be legal?”
Peter Roberts: “Hopefully we won’t see that, but yes.”
Fred Estridge: “PAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA I LOVE IT!”
Announcer: “About to enter the ring to compete in the ‘Rhythm & Bruise Match’, walking the aisle together as their tag team, The All Night Dance Party; introducing first MARTY ‘THE PARTY’ VALENS and his tag team partner CHRISTOPHER O’ TOOLE!!!!”
[[ ‘Peggy Sue’ starts to play and Marty Valens makes his way out onto the ramp, flanked by his proteges Anna and Christopher. Valens "picks" away at his guitar as he walks down to the ring with Anna and Christopher looking awkwardly at each other and shrugging toward Valens' actions. ]]
Peter Roberts: “I don’t know about you Fred, but I can sense a little tension between Christopher and Marty as they made their way to the ring.”
Fred Estridge: “Like sexual?”
Peter Roberts: “No Fred, you idiot.”
Fred Estridge: “Wha?”
Peter Roberts: “O’ Toole has made his way to one corner with the lovely Anna by his side, Valens is in the opposite corner looking down at the various musical instruments strewn across the ring. Christopher takes the same approach, remembering Valens already came down with a guitar so picking up the one in front of him.”
Fred Estridge: “If these guys start playing ‘Kum By Yah’ we fucking riot, Peter!”
Peter Roberts: “Not likely, Valens has just swung for O’ Toole but just missed, looks like Christopher is taken back by this.”
Fred Estridge: “They might be tag team partners, but ‘somebody’ has to take the initiative.”
Peter Roberts: “That’s actually a good point, Fred.”
Fred Estridge: “It’s all coming back to me now, Pete!”
Peter Roberts: “O’ Toole swings his guitar, again it’s a missed shot but now Marty isn’t looking to impressed!”
Fred Estridge: “Good friends, better enemies?”
Peter Roberts: “Or they could be fucking with us, Fred.”
Fred Estridge: “Would they do that?”
Peter Roberts: “Let’s just say it wouldn’t surprise me, Marty has swung again and miraculously O’ Toole is still standing.”
Fred Estridge: “Coincidence? We’ve all seen Pulp Fiction, they should have got shot in that scene, but they just didn’t.”
Peter Roberts: “I don’t think that’s a fair comparison.”
Fred Estridge: “Man, I’m hungry; can somebody go get me a La Royale with cheese?”
Peter Roberts: “WOAH! Both guys swung at the same time! Both guitars collided and split in to a thousand pieces! SPEAR!!!!!!”
Fred Estridge: “I knew it wouldn’t take long!”
Peter Roberts: “Marty has taken the advantage while Anna is not impressed on the outside of the ring, he’s got O’ Toole in a head lock and he’s pummelling him, Christopher is trying to wiggle free but he just can’t get out of the way.”
Fred Estridge: “This is great!”
Peter Roberts: “Gradually the fight is being taken out of O’ Toole, enough for Valens to get to his feet and look for another weapon. He’s got the drum!”
Fred Estridge: “Is that a snare drum? We don’t want Lars Ulrich suing for gimmick infringement!”
Peter Roberts: “I’m not sure, I’m a Miley Cyrus fan.”
Fred Estridge: “Wha?”
Peter Roberts: “Moving on... Valens is stalking O’ Toole with that drum, he raises it up and.... BLAM! Christopher’s head goes right through the skin, I didn’t expect Valens to be aggressive as he is right now.”
Fred Estridge: “Hey, the winner’s purse is worth obliterating your friends and tag team partners!”
Peter Roberts: “What’s Marty got in mind now? He’s picking up the flute!”
Fred Estridge: “SODOMY!”
Peter Roberts: “He swings for O’ Toole’s head, who ducks out of the way, he throws a punch.”
Fred Estridge: “NUT SHOT!”
Peter Roberts: “Valens has dropped the flute, O’ Toole picks it up and starts choking his partner with it, he shuffles to the side.... SIDE RUSSIAN LEGSWEEP WITH THE FLUTE!”
Fred Estridge: “Can we get to the sodomy?”
Peter Roberts: “I hope you’re just reminiscing about Pulp Fiction some more!”
Fred Estridge: “Um... yes.”
Peter Roberts: “O’ Toole takes the broken drum from his head and throws it down at Valens before picking him up in a scoop slam, and slamming him down hard across the drum, that is instantly flattened.”
Fred Estridge: “Well that drum beat sure went flat.”
Peter Roberts: “Well that’s weird, the fans seem to be cheering on Christopher O’ Toole here! He’s glancing in to the crowd, not really sure what to make of the reception.”
Fred Estridge: “Damn these fans are fickle!”
Peter Roberts: “Christopher goes to pick Valens up, but No! Marty nails a low blow, O’ Toole slumps to the floor holding his crotch; Anna didn’t like that one bit!”
Fred Estridge: “Of course, she’s a whore!”
Peter Roberts: “Marty picks up O’ Toole, leading him to the corner... Those are some nasty looking knife edge chops!”
[[ WOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! WOOOOOOOOOOOO!! WOOOOOOOOOO!! ]]
Fred Estridge: “I hate it when the crowd do that.”
Peter Roberts: “Marty now looking for that flute, he finds it in the middle of the ring and stands like a baseball player, ready to swing.”
Fred Estridge: “We’re in England, he should be standing like a Cricketer!”
Peter Roberts: “OH MY GOD! He just broke the flute in half over O’ Toole’s head!”
Fred Estridge: “He’s bleeding like a fourteen year old Darlington girl losing her virginity!”
Peter Roberts: “Fred?!”
Fred Estridge: “Sorry... He’s bleeding like a stuck pig?”
Peter Roberts: “Valens drags his partner in to the middle of the ring and hooks the leg.....”
1..
2...
Thr.....
Fred Estridge: “He kicked out?”
Peter Roberts: “Valens is beside himself here, he can’t believe his tag team partner had the audacity to kick out of the pin attempt!”
Fred Estridge: “Like I said, the winner’s purse is more important!”
Peter Roberts: “Marty gets up to his feet, he looks down at Christopher and then down at the arena floor where Anna is banging on the ring apron.”
Fred Estridge: “You think he wants to tap that?”
Peter Roberts: “I think he’s got something else in my mind to be honest.”
Fred Estridge: “What else could be on his mind when he’s looking at her?”
Peter Roberts: “HE JUST KICKED HIS HEAD OFF HIS SHOULDERS!”
Fred Estridge: “Calm down, this isn’t Mortal Kombat!”
Peter Roberts: “O’ Toole MUST be knocked out after that! Valens is going for the pin...”
1..
2...
Thre.....
Fred Estridge: “He kicked out!”
Peter Roberts: “Marty Valens is pissed off but the crowd are giving O’ Toole all the love in the World tonight!”
Fred Estridge: “Fickle, fickle, fickle!”
Peter Roberts: “This is different guy we’re seeing in the ring tonight in Valens, he doesn’t usually wrestle like this.”
Fred Estridge: “It’s called teaching your partner a lesson in respect, showing him who the leader is.”
Peter Roberts: “To be fair, I don’t think O’ Toole even asked the question! Valens is picking him up, he whips him in to the ropes, throws him up in the air... CUTTER!! THE DAY THE MUSIC DIED!!!”
1..
2...
3......
Fred Estridge: “The day this tag team almost died if you asked me!”
Peter Roberts: “Marty is just leaving his tag team partner in the middle of the ring, he’s still down.”
Fred Estridge: “He’ll be there for a while.”
Peter Roberts: “But listen to these fans Fred, they’re giving him a standing ovation!”
Fred Estridge: “A standing ovation doesn’t pay the bills Pete!”
Peter Roberts: “I wonder if the next match can live up to the standards the Rhythm & Bruise match set.”
Fred Estridge: “With a guy called El Doucho Baggo in it, I hope so!”
Announcer: “About to walk down the aisle, he stands at 5’11” and weighs in at 220lbs and he’s coming from Manchester, ENGLAND; he is MICKEY FANDANGO!!!”
[[ Out steps Fandango to thunderous cheers, purely based on the fact he’s from England. Jaya the Cat’s “Hello Hangover” is almost drowned out as he gets to the ring, rolls under the bottom rope and simply enjoys the reception he’s receiving. ]]
Announcer: “And his opponent from Chicago, Illinois; he stands at 6’8” and he’s weighing in at 289lbs... EL DOUCHO BAGGO!”
[[ No music, no pyro, no fancy entrance; El Doucho Baggo simply walks down the aisle to a chorus of boos as he shouts obscenities at random members of the crowd, some of them even throw their drinks at him, sadly missing. ]]
Fred Estridge: “What a difference in fan appeal tonight.”
Peter Roberts: “Well, Fandango is from England.”
Fred Estridge: “Racists!”
Peter Roberts: “Here we go, both guys enter the centre of the ring.... I expected a standard collar and elbow tie up but Fandango is right in there with a clinch, he throws in a couple of elbows, Baggo answers back with a couple of knees.”
Fred Estridge: “What is this shit?”
Peter Roberts: “Well since you and I have been away from the business, a new one has gotten popular; mixed martial arts.”
Fred Estridge: “Mixed martial arts?”
Peter Roberts: “That’s what I said, Fred.”
Fred Estridge: “Never heard of it.”
Peter Roberts: “Really?”
Fred Estridge: “Yeah, I mean I’ve heard people talking about it but I thought they were talking about painting.”
Peter Roberts: “What?”
Fred Estridge: “Painting is an art, Peter.”
Peter Roberts: “Oh gee, and now I know.”
Fred Estridge: “And knowing is half the battle.”
Peter Roberts: “You moron! Back to the action and the referee has split them up, Fandango is trying to kick out at Baggo who is always just that little bit out of reach.”
Fred Estridge: “I’m bored.”
Peter Roberts: “The crowd aren’t too pleased with this sort of contest.”
Fred Estridge: “Ha! I love it, Baggo and Mickey just flipped the crowd off!”
Peter Roberts: “Now we get a collar and elbow tie up, Baggo wins that with an arm drag, Fandango goes tumbling but is right back up to his feet. They lock up and now it’s Mickey who wins the tie up, dishing out a matching arm drag.”
Fred Estridge: “I expected more from these guys, it’s almost like they’re being respectful.”
Peter Roberts: “That can be a good thing from time to time.”
Fred Estridge: “Yeah, when I’m not watching it.”
Peter Roberts: “Doucho bounces back off the ropes, trying to get some speed up as he charges Fandango, who is clever enough to notice and drops him with a drop toe hold, Baggo’s face smacks off the apron.”
Fred Estridge: “The fans are cheering now?”
Peter Roberts: “Fandango hooks Doucho’s leg, leans across his back and attempts an S.T.F.”
Fred Estridge: “Not going to get it like that!”
Peter Roberts: “Baggo is flailing his elbows around, and striking every so often, which weakens Mickey’s grip who gives up the attempt and gets to his feet, waiting for Doucho to rise up.”
Fred Estridge: “KICK HIM WHEN HE’S DOWN!”
Peter Roberts: “Doucho is back up, Mickey dives in for a double leg takedown but Doucho avoids it. As Fandango’s head is titled down, Baggo nails a hard punch to his jaw.”
Fred Estridge: “I like this El Doucho Baggo guy.”
Peter Roberts: “Mickey drops to his knees, Baggo dropkicks him in the face!”
Fred Estridge: “I REALLY like this guy!”
Peter Roberts: “Doucho pulls Mickey up by the head, but he fights out of it almost, ending up with his back towards Baggo!”
Fred Estridge: “He’s lifting him up!”
Peter Roberts: “Beautiful belly to back suplex by Doucho Baggo! He stays on him, dragging him back up and pulling him in to the corner.”
Fred Estridge: “What’s he doing now?”
Peter Roberts: “He’s measuring him up for either an elbow or a kick, Fandango seems a little out of it!”
Fred Estridge: “My money is on El Doucho Baggo!”
Peter Roberts: “He runs in, jumps in the air for a kick to the head of Mickey who drops to his feet to avoid it; El Doucho Baggo has crotched himself in the corner!”
Fred Estridge: “That bastard was playing possum!”
Peter Roberts: “Mickey pulls Doucho down in to a tree of woe and kicks him a few times, he takes a few steps back and jumps in with a dropkick to the face; Baggo flops off the corner and crumples in to a heap.”
Fred Estridge: “Now the British guy is heading to the top rope... and waiting?”
Peter Roberts: “El Doucho Baggo staggers up to his feet, Mickey hooks his feet over his shoulders, could it be... victory roll?”
Fred Estridge: “I’m shocked Doucho can carry that man on his shoulders right now, he’s ego must be over a tonne!”
Peter Roberts: “Baggo staggers forwards with Fandango on his shoulders, who is circling his arms for balance, he rolls down going for the victory roll!”
1..
2...
3!!!!!!!
Fred Estridge: “He got him?!”
Peter Roberts: “El Doucho Baggo blocked the victory roll!”
Announcer: “The winner of this match via a pin fall; EL DOUCHO BAGGO!!!!”
Fred Estridge: “I told you my guy would win!”
Peter Roberts: “He was lucky, I’ll give him that.”
Fred Estridge: “What’s next?”
Peter Roberts: “Well, we’ve got the semi main event up next.”
Fred Estridge: “Oh yeah, I’m excited to see this Bryan Deas guy.”
Peter Roberts: “Oh really?”
Fred Estridge: “Yeah, I met him backstage; he told me how great he was.”
Peter Roberts: “Damn you’re gullible.”
[[ The lights go down, An Italian flag is illuminated on the mini stage while on the smaller than usual creen we see a Cadillac shield and the name Clay on it. The music begins with a bit of spoken word... "Starting off in the southwest side of town... We find our boy DJ Clay fighting his way out of yet another sticky situation."
The spot hits DJ standing on the stage head down but bumping to the music Slowly the chant of DJ Clay fades in with the chant continuing for 20 seconds. His head is down the whole time his fist pumps in the air to the cheer. There is a loud cheer, His head raises with a Guido's smile. The lyrics begin to flow:
"Ever since i was young,
I been around guns,
I was born in the Hood,
Can't help where i'm from,
Heartbeat like a drum
In the Beat just for yall
and my blood off in each and every sound
I'll beat your stuff
If you wanna get tough
We a hundred mile deep
with the guns and the jags
Got the things that boom
even things that cut
'swhy we all where we at
And you all where you not..."
He walks down the ramp slowly shaking out his arms and Listening to his Manager Linn. He cracks his neck and keeps walking slowly.
Double laced till the day
I'm face down in my own
Let 'em bleed till they bleed
In a puddle of they own...
He begins his walk around the ring looking at the crowd as the song hits it's hook
"YOU AINT FROM ROUND HERE
YOU GET LET DOWN HERE
THIS IS THAT SOUND... *pop pop pop pop*
WE ALL FEAR"
He jumps up on to the apron and Hops over the ropes as the hook repeats 3 times with him going to each corner telling the crowd he ain't goin nowhere... ]]
Announcer: “Standing in the ring at this time with his manager, Linn. Standing at 6’ and tipping the scales at 210lbs, he has arrived here from Hackensack, New Jersey; this is ‘THE GUIDO’ DJ... CLAY!!!!!!!”
Fred Estridge: “Now that’s an entrance!”
Peter Roberts: “And the crowd are showing their appreciation too.”
[[ Reckless Fortune’s ‘Why I Sing The Blues’ begins to play as Bryan Deas wanders down the entrance way to a very mixed reaction from these fans. He seems pretty focused as he gets to the ring, never taking his eyes away from Linn as he gets in to the ring. ]]
Announcer: “And his opponent, a member of ‘The Business’ standing at 6’3” and weighing in at 280lbs he hails from Hollywood, California; this is ‘THE BALLISTIC ONE’ BRYAN... DEAS!!!!!!!”
Fred Estridge: “See, Bryan Deas is where it’s at.”
Peter Roberts: “We’ll see! Although he’s making a dumb move by shouting at Linn on the outside of the ring, if he’s not too lucky, Clay could...”
Fred Estridge: “He could do what he’s doing right now?”
Peter Roberts: “Exactly! Clay starts nailing some clubbing shots to Bryan’s back before whipping him across the ring, Deas comes back and his back dropped for his troubles.”
Fred Estridge: “You think this Clay guy is a real DJ?”
Peter Roberts: “I don’t know. He picks Bryan up by the head, hitting a quick DDT.”
Fred Estridge: “He could be, I’ve heard of wrestling clowns and monks but never a wrestling DJ.”
Peter Roberts: “I’m not even going to warrant your gibberish with a reply.”
Fred Estridge: “Well who got out of the wrong side of bed this morning?”
Peter Roberts: “Clay is staying on the attack, leading Deas in to the corner and nailing some lightning fast knife edge chops!”
[[ WOOOOOOOO! WOOOOOOOOO! WOOOOOOOOO! ]]
Fred Estridge: “I hate these people....”
Peter Roberts: “Deas tries to fight back, he kicks DJ in the gut a couple of times, for a brief moment Clay is stunned, Bryan lifts him up and drops him back down with a scoop slam!”
Fred Estridge: “See, he’s just getting warmed up!”
Peter Roberts: “Bryan kicks Clay in the head, then hits an elbow drop across his chest. He rolls to the side and gets up, dragging Clay up by the hair, which the referee doesn’t care about, hooks him and lifts him up in to a vertical suplex!”
Fred Estridge: “4.... 5... 6.... 7.... 8.... 9......”
Peter Roberts: “Bryan finally drops Clay to the mat from that suplex!”
Fred Estridge: “But where is he going?”
Peter Roberts: “He should stay focused on his opponent, not go and have a conversation with the guys manager!”
Fred Estridge: “Ha! He’s just pointing out what he’s done!”
Peter Roberts: “Bryan rolls back in to the ring, Clay has just gotten to feet and throws a punch towards Deas. It connects, but there’s not much behind it as Bryan immediately returns with a punch of his own. They trade blows, Bryan seemingly getting the better of the confrontation as Clay is stepping back.”
Fred Estridge: “This is the Ballistic Show right here!”
Peter Roberts: “Bryan ducks a punch, and charges forward, shoulder barging Clay in the gut, he repeats a couple of times to take the wind out of him.”
Fred Estridge: “Not long now for Simply Ballistic!”
Peter Roberts: “You really are a fanboy, aren’t you?”
Fred Estridge: “I wouldn’t go that far...”
Peter Roberts: “Bryan swings in with a big punch to the face, pulls him in to the middle of the ring and... POWERBOMB!”
Fred Estridge: “Drop the bomb, Bryan!”
Peter Roberts: “He picks Clay up and whips him in to the ropes, Bryan executes a beautiful powerslam, DJ could be in trouble here!”
Fred Estridge: “He was in trouble from the moment this match was booked!”
1..
2....
Thr.....
Peter Roberts: “He managed to kick out of that one! Bryan doesn’t skip a beat though, scooping Clay up around his waist and dropping him down in backbreaker!”
Fred Estridge: “I know what’s next!”
Peter Roberts: “Bryan walks over to Clay’s legs, picks them up and looks down at Linn with a smile on his face.”
Fred Estridge: “BALLISTICATOR!!!!!”
Peter Roberts: “Clay is reaching out for the ropes but he just can’t get to them! He’s taken some high impact moves here so far.”
Fred Estridge: “It’s over for this wrestling DJ!”
Peter Roberts: “He’s stirring, Clay pushes himself up with his arms; he’s almost got out of it... Now Linn is on the apron!”
Fred Estridge: “CHEAT!”
Peter Roberts: “Bryan lets go of his variation of the sharpshooter and walks over to Linn who just drops back down to ringside... Clay is back to his feet though!”
Fred Estridge: “ROLL-UP!”
1..
2...
Thre....
Peter Roberts: “He almost got him! But Bryan kicked out with such force it sent Clay in to the ropes, he turns around and charges at Bryan... SPINE BUSTER!”
Fred Estridge: “Bryan saw him coming!”
1..
2...
Thre.....
Peter Roberts: “DJ Clay managed to kick out of that pin, he’s showing some serious resiliency tonight.”
Fred Estridge: “But that won’t matter!”
Peter Roberts: “Both men get their feet, Bryan heads towards Clay... T-BONE EXPLODER! How did he have the energy for that move?!”
Fred Estridge: “Still not going to matter!”
Peter Roberts: “Guido picks him up... GUIDO BOMB!!!”
1..
2...
Thre......
Fred Estridge: “Bryan Deas is awesome!”
Peter Roberts: “Guido is taken by surprise here, what can he do to win this match?”
Fred Estridge: “He can’t do anything, Bryan Deas is winning this match!”
Peter Roberts: “I know we’re in Darlington, England but folks; WELCOME TO NEW JERSEY!”
Fred Estridge: “NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!”
Peter Roberts: “Bryan is fighting it!”
Fred Estridge: “REACH THE ROPES BRYAN, POKE HIM IN THE EYE; DO SOMETHING!”
Peter Roberts: “The only thing he can do is tap out here!”
Fred Estridge: “YOU CAN DO IT BRYAN!”
Peter Roberts: “And... He’s reaching up.... He’s..... He’s TAPPING!”
Fred Estridge: “NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!”
Peter Roberts: “Clay gets the win!”
Announcer: “The winner of this match, via a submission; DJ CLAY!!!!!!!”
Fred Estridge: “I am shocked, I really am.”
Peter Roberts: “As Clay is leaving the ring, the fans show their appreciation while Bryan Deas is looking pretty pissed off in the middle of the ring.”
[[ The entire arena goes to black, and the screen flickers into life with some static. As the static starts getting clear it starts to show four Ace cards between flashes of static. After a few seconds the static leaves to have just an image of the Four Ace cards. After a few seconds the Ace cards turn sideways and fly towards the camera and the text 'YOU'RE GONNA GET ACED!' flashes on and off, going faster and faster until finally some pyro explodes and the PA System kicks in.
Rollin' the dice
Never thinkin' twice
A single golden light illuminates the stage, and from the back out struts Ace Andrews! Ace is dressed in a simple pair of long black tights, with two Ace cards on ace leg, and ‘THE ACE’ written on the trunk in big white letters. He is also wearing a singlet, with a picture of his face on the front, and the back has the words YOU HAVE JUST BEEN ACED! He pauses at the top of the ramp, holding both arms out wide, and then turning his back to the crowd before turning to face them again. He starts to stroll down the ramp, looking out at one side of the crowd, then the other as he paces leisurely to the ring.
Announcer: “Approaching the ring right now, he weighs 220lbs and stands at 220lbs; known as ‘The Billionaire Brawler’, from Las Vegas, Nevada this is.... ACE ANDREWS!!!!!!!!”
Peter Roberts: “And it’s time for our main event of the evening... but Bryan Deas is still at ringside!”
Fred Estridge: “He’s supporting his buddy!”
[[ ‘Kashmir’ by Escala begins to play, as soon as it starts the crowd begin to go wild, blowing the roof off the place; Ace Andrews is taken back a bit, looking around the now rabid crowd. Stu-E walks out on to the entrance way and the noise just gets louder. He’s wearing the Ring of Pride Texas Television Title around his waist, which looks a bit different, like there’s extra layers to it.
‘England’s Favourite Wrestler’ walks down the aisle enjoying the reception from his home town fans, as he gets to the ring even Ace Andrews rolls out of the ring for him. As Price gets in to the ring, he climbs the turnbuckle and slowly raises his arms to continue cheering from the fans. ]]
Announcer: “Standing in the ring hailing from right here in Darlington, England he stands at 5’11” and weighs in at 230lbs; he is known as ‘England’s Favourite Wrestler’ and is the current holder of the Ring of Pride ‘Texas Television Title’ he is.... STU-E PRICE!!!!!!!!”
Peter Roberts: “What is Bryan doing?”
Fred Estridge: “He’s standing up for himself!”
Peter Roberts: “Ace Andrews has spotted Bryan and went after him! Stu-E is oblivious as this is going on!”
Fred Estridge: “YES!”
Peter Roberts: “Bryan Deas just knocked Andrews down with a big boot to the face!”
Fred Estridge: “See, Deas is awesome!”
Peter Roberts: “He’s doing the right thing by leaving the scene right now though! But Andrews is chasing after him!”
Fred Estridge: “RUN BRYAN, RUN!”
Peter Roberts: “He gets through to the curtain, within a few moments Ace has gotten there.... but there’s no cameras; what’s going on there?”
Fred Estridge: “Bryan is kicking his ass, that’s what!”
Peter Roberts: “I don’t think so! Andrews just came back, a man with a kicked ass wouldn’t be smiling like Ace is right now!”
Fred Estridge: “Has the bell rung?! Count him out, ref!”
Peter Roberts: “It didn’t get chance to, Fred; Stu-E is just watching Andrews walk down the aisle looking confused. Andrews rolls in the ring and stands back in his respective corner.”
Announcer: “This is our Main Event of the evening; one fall to a finish, the match will see Ace Andrews versus Stu-E Price and they will be fighting tonight for the prized, and famous; BELMONT CHAMPIONSHIP!”
Peter Roberts: “The what?”
Fred Estridge: “The Belmont Championship, did you not hear the announcer?”
Peter Roberts: “Ace Andrews is pissed off! Stu-E takes off the Texas Televison Title and underneath it he had the Belmont Championship waiting! He takes that one off and tosses it to the referee.”
Fred Estridge: “What a belt that is, Peter!”
Peter Roberts: “Ace Andrews doesn’t think the same!”
Fred Estridge: “How dare he throw that to the outside of the ring!”
Peter Roberts: “Stu-E is just laughing, obviously he sees that title as a joke too.”
Fred Estridge: “They don’t deserve that belt!”
Peter Roberts: “They lock up in a collar and elbow, Ace breaks it to throw in a punch, before going back in to the grappling, he scoops Price up and drops him in a body slam.”
Fred Estridge: “Price didn’t like that much!”
Peter Roberts: “He sits with a smirk on his face before getting up and going back to a collar and elbow tie up, again Andrews breaks to punch, goes back in to the collar and wlbow, but slips behind Price... GERMAN SUPLEX!”
Fred Estridge: “It’s looking like Ace Andrews just knows what to expect here tonight!”
Peter Roberts: “Again, Stu-E sitting with a smirk on his face, he gets back up to his feet and takes a few steps forward...”
Fred Estridge: “Triple 7!”
Peter Roberts: “I think you’ll find that was a Stun Cutter, Fred!”
Fred Estridge: “Oh yeah, sorry....”
Peter Roberts: “Price leans back in the corner, allowing his opponent to shake the cobwebs and get to his feet; the crowd are cheering as both guys take a few steps forward...”
Fred Estridge: “Stun Cutter!”
Peter Roberts: “You idiot, Fred, you idiot.”
Fred Estridge: “Triple 7 this time?”
Peter Roberts: “Correctomundo!”
Fred Estridge: “This match is a bit like tennis so far, I think.”
Peter Roberts: “Ugh... Ace now wasting no time, pulling up Price who allows himself to be pulled up until he clasps his hands around Andrews... SAMBO SUPLEX!”
Fred Estridge: “He was tricking him all a long!”
Peter Roberts: “Ace tries to get up to his feet, but Price leaps in the air... he connects with the rocker dropper!”
Fred Estridge: “Andrews’ head bounced off the mat right there!”
Peter Roberts: “Bounced right back up in to Stu-E’s leg in a whiplash effect, that really has turned the tide! Now Stu-E is scaling the top rope!”
Fred Estridge: “I’ve not seen him crack this one out in a long, long time!”
Peter Roberts: “He leaps off with the frog splash.... NOTHING BUT CANVASS!”
Fred Estridge: “And I’ve not seen him hit that move in even longer!”
Peter Roberts: “Ace rolls back over towards Price, making a cover.”
1..
2....
Fred Estridge: “Quick kick out there!”
Peter Roberts: “Andrews now waiting in the corner...”
Fred Estridge: “Stu-E just coming to, I don’t think he knows where he is..”
Peter Roberts: “THE FLOP.... NO!!”
Fred Estridge: “PRICE TAG.... NO!”
Peter Roberts: “THE FLOP AGAIN.... NO!”
Fred Estridge: “PRICE TAG ATTEMPT.... NO!”
Peter Roberts: “He kicked him in the nuts!”
Fred Estridge: “The crowd are booing the shit out of Andrews for that play!”
Peter Roberts: “Andrews dives in for a waist lock.... Northern Lights Suplex and the hometown hero is down on the mat!”
Fred Estridge: “Andrews making the most of it, running the ropes...”
Peter Roberts: “Lionsault!”
1..
2..
Thre....
Fred Estridge: “The Belmont Championship stays at home!”
Peter Roberts: “Ace Andrews gets up, grabbing a hand full of hair to bring Price up with him, he scoops him up going for a bodyslam!”
Fred Estridge: “Price is wriggling free!”
Peter Roberts: “He drops behind Ace who turns around, who is in turn picked up... INVERTED TOMBSTONE!”
Fred Estridge: “Not seen that move in while, either.”
Peter Roberts: “Both guys are down on the mat, the match hasn’t been all that long but both guys have been bringing out the heavy guns!”
Fred Estridge: “Because the Belmont Championship means so much!”
Peter Roberts: “I somehow doubt that very much.”
Fred Estridge: “Well it must mean something.”
Peter Roberts: “As Stu-E is making his way to his feet, Ace Andrews is rolling out of the ring, he’s heading towards the Belmont Championship he threw away just earlier.”
Fred Estridge: “Gold is gold, my friend.”
Peter Roberts: “Stu-E has his back turned while Andrews crawls back in the ring with the belt, this could be bad.”
Fred Estridge: “Or this could be brilliant!”
Peter Roberts: “The referee has noticed the belt, thankfully he’s admonishing Ace in the corner... what the?”
Fred Estridge: “Relax, he didn’t hit the referee!”
Peter Roberts: “He just picked him up and put him in the corner, so he could shout at him! BRITISH POUND OUT OF NOWHERE!”
Fred Estridge: “Good night referee!”
Peter Roberts: “Stu-E didn’t know the referee was there!”
Fred Estridge: “Oh yeah, of course he didn’t.”
Peter Roberts: “Price pulls Andrews in to the middle of the ring, drops down to the floor, he’s locking in the crippler crossface!”
Fred Estridge: “There’s no referee, Ace could tap out right now if he wanted to, and it wouldn’t make a difference.”
Peter Roberts: “Which is what he’s doing right now!”
Fred Estridge: “Stu-E’s waiting for the bell, it’s not coming.”
Peter Roberts: “He’s released the hold and headed over to the referee, he’s shaking but there’s not much response going on.”
Fred Estridge: “Now where is he going?”
Peter Roberts: “Stu-E’s pulling some tables out from under the ring, he’s setting them up diagonally outside the corner post.... this is bringing some memories back.”
Fred Estridge: “Ass cushion by any chance?”
Peter Roberts: “He’s reaching under the ring..... he’s got the ass cushion! The square block of foam with a belt attached! The crowd are going crazy!”
Fred Estridge: “Ace Andrews had better start waking up round about now!”
Peter Roberts: “Stu-E has got the ass cushion attached to his ass, he gets back in the ring and pulls Ace up, he lifts him up and sits him in the corner facing the fans.”
Fred Estridge: “If he nails this then it really is lights out for Andrews, forget the pay-per-view!”
Peter Roberts: “Stu-E steps out of the ring and walks along the ring apron to the corner, climbing up on it.... he’s going for it, he’s lifting Andrews up in the piledriver position.”
Fred Estridge: “Time for a Price Drop!”
Peter Roberts: “NO! NO! NO!”
Fred Estridge: “HOLY SHIT!”
Peter Roberts: “ANDREWS FOUGHT OUT OF IT, THEY LOST THEIR BALANCE!”
Fred Estridge: “This match has just got to be over, it’s got to be, this is sick!”
Peter Roberts: “THEY BOTH WENT HEAD FIRST THROUGH THE TABLES! IF THEIR NECKS AIN’T SNAPPED IT’S A MIRACLE!”
Fred Estridge: “Thank God, thank God for the referee! Count them out, please!”
Peter Roberts: “That’s the sensible thing to do right now, he’s looking down at them, he glances over to the timekeeper... the bell rings, what’s the decision?”
Announcer: “Ladies and Gentlemen the referee has stopped the contest; this match is a draw!”
[[ The fans are ans are cheering on their feet for the safety of both wrestlers, the clash between former and current Television Champion had been a brutal, tragic way to end a successful night, when something happened.. ]]
