LIVE from the Kingdom Coliseum in Allentown, Pennsylvania, USA
Event Summary | Chapter 1
The camera zoomed out from the front marquee outside the Kingdom Coliseum reading: International Grapplers Society 1. The beautiful Amelia Mazzi was outside with a massive group of fans all of which were waiting on the release of the camera-kill tickets.
“Welcome to a paramount night!” Opened Mazzi, “We are outside with these fantastic fans awaiting to get inside to see the tonight’s action packed card. I was asked to come out here to see who you, the fans, wanted to see tonight here at Kingdom Coliseum at Allentown, Pennsylvania!!” Right on cue with that cheap pop the fans all cheer.
Amelia motioned to a fan in the front wearing ghostly face paint and a Hardcore Wrestling Organization shirt. “What Grappler brought you out tonight?” Mazzi asked.
“Brock F’n Metzer! Dude has been held down too long… FREE METZER!”
The young fan screamed into the microphone before Mazzi ducked behind him to go to the next few. An older gentlemen wearing a foil helmet approached Mazzi. Mazzi shocked at how this fan looked.
“They are coming and we have to listen to Hopper before we learn the aliens are going to come and realize that aliens go hard, son! ALIENS GO HARD!” The older man looked at the skies frantically and ran off. Amelia did not know how to react but to start to laughing as she realized the camera guy was motioning her to find another fan.
Amelia scanned the area for a sane wrestling fan as she noticed someone standing holding a five-foot cardboard sign. She started to walk over to him but got caught off guard as a Malik Roland fan screamed into the microphone, “ROLAND IS GONNA TEACH ALL THESE JABRONI’S! THEY GONNA LEARN TODAY!”
She tried to dodge the screaming fans reaching the fan with the sign was almost as tall as he was. “What Grappler brings you out tonight?”
A smile beamed from the hooded fan. “Kendrick Matters.” He answered.
Confused, “I am sorry who?” Amelia responded not knowing the name. She knew every single Grappler. The man pulled apart his hoodie to show a black and white shirt that read “Philly Proud” in cursive on the top but below that read, “KENDRICK MATTERS".
Mazzi motioned with the microphone he could say what he wanted. His eyes almost popped out of his head as he saw his five seconds of fame happening right now, “I am most excited to see Kendrick Matters in that squared circle. Me! I am Kendrick Matters! And I just need one shot. Takes just a spark to ignite the dynamite that is Kendrick Matters. Hashtag ignite the dyno-MITE!”
Cheap plug: #IngiteTheDynamite
Mazzi smiled as she pulled the microphone from Kendrick and squares up with the camera. “As you can see there is a lot of excitement not just for the fans but IGS is the place to be for any Grappler. From fans whom stare at the stars in fear like Max Hopper and fans who want to become stars like Malik Roland. Let's go back to ringside…” Amelia closed her segment with her classic smile.
The Kingdom Coliseum echoed with the thundering roar of pyrotechnics and the crowd erupted as the house lights dimmed and the spotlights lit the ring and the commentary desk.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, the very first live event of the International Grapplers Society is underway!" Began the man on the left of the desk. "My name is Michael Decker and to my right is the ever charismatic Alan McTaggart," he continued in a shout, struggling to be heard over the crowd.
At the mention of his name, Alan Taggart piped in, "And the excitement of this Allentown crowd is thunderous! I'll say, Michael, I can't disagree with them, I'm ecstatic to be here as well!"
The roar of the crowd continued and overtook the duo suddenly as crew members began setting up two podiums in the center of the ring. Large curtains were placed around the podiums as a stagehand pulled something from a duffel bag and placed it atop the podium inside the curtain. He then turned to the second display and repeated the action. A man in a tailored suit came through the curtain and down the entrance ramp, he climbed the steps and entering the ring.
Michael Decker repeated what he saw as it happened, "Folks, the IGS General Manager, John Akerman, appears to be entering the ring and it looks as though he wants a microphone."
A stagehand walked up the steps, handing Akerman a microphone through the ring ropes.
McTaggart posed a question, "Michael, do you think he's going to address the rumors surrounding the IGS acquisition of PWR last month?"
"Well, Alan, from the looks of those podiums, I'd venture a guess in that direction. Let's go to the ring and find out!"
“Ladies and gentlemen, I want to personally thank you all for coming out tonight. Without the fans, this wouldn’t be possible! And I think I speak on the behalf of Mr. King, as well as the talent in the locker room when I say you won’t be disappointed with what we have in-store for you tonight!” John Ackerman joyful announced.
“I’m sure you guys are wondering what’s behind the displays correct?” He continued… “Well, we purchased a company called Pro Wrestling Rising specifically to acquire certain talent. And tonight we’re going to honor that talent. So without further adieu, PWR Tag Team Champions The Lynch Consortium.. Grayson, Jameson, please come on out.”
Uhh, uh-huh, yeah
It's all about the Benjamins baby
It's All About the Benjamins by Puff Daddy ft. The Notorious B.I.G., The LOX & Lil' Kim roared over the PA system inside the Kingdom Coliseum, the PWR World Tag Team Champions appeared from behind the curtain, the gold championship titles draped over their shoulders. The Lynch Consortium stopped at the top of the ramp while the raucous crowd rained down a chorus of boos that rattled the arena. The brothers heckled fans on their way down the ramp, much to the dismay of the crowd. Both men entered the ring prepped with microphones in hand.
“Hello, gentlemen.” The General Manager greeted both men.
“What’s behind curtain #1?” Jameson Lynch countered
Before John Ackerman could finish getting his sentence out, the younger Grayson already pulled down the sheath to reveal new championship titles with IGS branding.
“OH MY GOD!” Grayson said with a surprised look on his face. “These are for us? They gotta be for us I mean, we’re clearly the best! We beat everyone we faced in PWR which consisted of three teams but still, we beat them!”
“If you’d let me finish I have an announcement I’d like to make.” Ackerman quipped.
“Here bro, catch!” Grayson interrupted the General Manager for the second time, tossing his brother the other half of the IGS World Tag Team Championships. “These are sooooooo shiny! I can see my reflection, so much better than these old things.”
The Lynch Consortium compared the two sets of championships before deciding in unison that they approve of the new titles. Grayson followed by Jameson tossed their PWR championships at the feet of the general manager.
“I’m glad you guys like them, because from this day forward the PWR Tag Team Championships are now deactivated, and you’re being promoted to IGS World Tag Team Champions!” Ackerman announced to a chorus of boos
“Yeah, yeah. But what’s under that other display?” Jameson Lynch broached.
Wasting little time Grayson Lynch uncovered what looked like the IGS World Championship. Without a second thought, the young Lynch grabbed the championship title and circle the ring with it.
“JAMESON THIS IS EVEN SHINIER THAN OUR BELTS! I THINK I WANT TO TRADE, BETTER YET I DECLARE MYSELF IGS WORLD CHAMPION” Grayson Lynch shouted loudly over the mic.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, I think that belt is spoken for bro.”
Empire State of Mind by Jay-Z f/ Alicia Keys blared over the PA system, Jameson looked over to his brother and mumbled. “Here comes that bad idea I was just talking about.”
Malik Roland, otherwise known as the Mammoth appeared from behind the curtain holding his Pro Wrestling Rising Championship Title in his right hand. Malik took his time maneuvering towards the ring, ignoring the chorus of boos being hurled his way. As he stepped in the ring he walked towards Grayson Lynch and motioned for him to come towards him.
“Here bro, I was just testing it out for you, no harm no foul right?” Grayson handed the IGS World Championship to Malik Roland and quickly retreated near his brother. “Hey, I don’t know if you were listening while in the back but our theme song is Puff Daddy, west side!”
“Puff Daddy is from New York” Jameson mumbled to Grayson.
“Why didn’t you tell me this chocolate man was so huge?!” Grayson asked.
“I thought you knew! Shut up before we have to fight him.” Jameson quickly replied
“Anyway, Malik just like with the Lynch Brothers..” Akerman started.
“That’s The Lynch Consortium to you, pal!” Grayson interrupted.
“Your PWR World Championship is officially deactivated and you are now recognized as the first EVER IGS WORLD CHAMPION!” Ackerman shouted at the top of his lungs.
Malik Roland walked towards both Lynch brothers and snatched the microphone from the hands of Grayson with a smirk. “I think I’ll keep both.”
The Mammoth dropped the microphone onto the mat as his music hit, with a championship belt draped over each shoulder he exited the ring and made his way back to the locker rooms. The Lynch Consortium still stood in the ring. They exchanged jabs with each other.
“We could’ve kept both sets? F’n A!” Grayson exclaimed.
“I was following your lead, idiot!” Jameson replied.
Both Lynch’s exited the ring as the GM made one last announcement.
“Coming up next: Terry The Bouncer vs The Night. Let the show begin!”
In the parking garage of the Kingdom Coliseum, grapplers and venue employees were walking around and going about their business. Suddenly a black Corvette with tinted windows rolled in, glimmering from a new wash and wax job. The Corvette came to an abrupt stop in front of the parking attendee.
The door popped open and out stepped a serious man with black hair, aviator sunglasses, a black jacket and jeans on. He rounded the car and cooly handed his keys off to the attendee along with a healthy bit of cash as a tip.
As the man walked toward a door leading into the arena hallways, he was caught by IGS reporter Amelia Mazzi who was ready with microphone and cameraman.
"Mr. Phaser!" exclaimed reporter Mazzi. "Do you have a moment?"
The main with the black jacket turned to the reporter and peeled off his sunglasses.
"What can I do for you?" asked Phaser.
"You were one of the last signings announced before IGS1, so it was too late to book you in a match," stated Mazzi. "Can you tell us why you are here?"
Phaser's eyes narrowed.
"Even though I'm not on the card tonight I still want to see the competition I'll be facing," replied Phaser. "Rumor has it that I've signed up for a league with top notch grapplers, and I'm ready to work my way to the top."
"Speaking of rumors," began Mazzi. "There is a lot of discussion about the last promotion you wrestled for and your sudden firing the same day you won their championship. Care to give IGS fans insight into what happened?"
The was a near grinding sound from Phaser who was clinching his teeth while his cheeks popped from exerting the pressure.
"What happened in my past is just that, the past," stated Phaser. "It is behind me now and I'm ready for a real challenge; not just a regional title in the Rocky Mountains.
Phaser turned his gaze squarely at the camera.
"Please do not kid yourselves, fellow grapplers," said Phaser. "I do NOT fuck around. IGS is my future, and I am the future of IGS."
With that he gave Mazzi a quick nod and walked off camera.
The following Opening Match is a Bonus Feature that appears courtesy of Showtime Productions, a wholly owned subsidiary of the Buddy Showtime Conservatory of Violent Arts
"We’re joined in the booth by Buddy Showtime, 1990s superstar and the owner and operator of the Buddy Showtime Conservatory of Violent Arts," said Decker, going for a note of formality.
Buddy Showtime, resplendent in a gold lamé tuxedo jacket and a half-buttoned black silk shirt revealing a beer gut and too many gold chains, slapped the play-by-play man on the shoulder. "Thank you, great to be back on the right side of the audience.
Alan McTaggart, on the color side of the booth, shot back "Buddy Showtime, haven’t seen you in a ring since before 9/11."
"Look," said Buddy, "I hadda get out while I still had my looks."
Entering first, from The Buddy Showtime Conservatory of Violent Arts in Downtown Allentown Pennsylvania, he weighs in in Two Hundred and Sixty Five Pounds…
TERRY THE BOUNCER
“In Da Club” by 50 Cent played as what appears to be one of the security personnel walked down the ramp, uniform black and yellow shirt labeled “Security” matched by an equally uniform shaved head and goatee.
McTaggart was the first to speak "Wait, isn’t that the bouncer from Platinum Plus?"
Decker shot back, "why would a former superstar like Buddy Showtime set foot in…"
"Yeah," interjected Mr. Showtime, "I was down there back in March, it woulda’ had to’ve been a Friday ‘cause that’s when they do the free lunch buffet."
Decker was scandalized, "wait, you go to strip clubs for the...free food?"
"Not me," said McTaggart, "I go there for the women. The food will give you hepatitis."
"Finally," said Decker, "we have found a depth to which you will not sink."
"So anyway," Buddy continued, "there’s a couple assholes up front who decide to start throwing chicken bones at the girl on stage."
"Now that’s a party fowl," said McTaggart.
"That was low, even for you," responded Decker.
Terry the Bouncer climbed a turnbuckle, tears open his black and yellow “Security” shirt revealing freshly shaven pecs and a beer gut. And because he was standing on top of the turnbuckle and flexing, the crowd was willing to give him at least some polite applause.
"And then he just goes absolutely sickhouse on them, so I give him my card, and four months later, here he is."
"You hear that folks," said McTaggart, "it could happen to you!"
And his opponent, also from the Buddy Showtime Conservatory of Violent Arts in Scenic, Downtown, Allentown, PA just off the off-ramp…
“Systemagic” by Goldfrapp played as a man in a black cape handsprung out of the curtains and down the ramp.
"Right out of the gate, this guy is high energy," Decker pointed out.
"Yeah, real talented kid," sighed Buddy, "he works like a dog on his moves. But when it comes to presentation, it’s like talking to a brick wall."
"Come on, he can’t be that bad," said McTaggart
Buddy Showtime shook his head, "Just you wait…"
He weighs in at Two Hundred and Fifteen Pounds, he is…
"Wait for it…" sighed Buddy Showtime
"The crowd not quite sure what to make of The Night as he doffs his cape and vaults over the rope." Decker reported faithfully.
McTaggart sighed, "I’d say something about your saying “doff,” but there is no other way to describe what the man did. Also, if he’s a Knight, where’s his helmet."
"No, no, no 'The Night' with an 'N.' Like, striking fear into the hearts..." Buddy Showtime made his feelings about that perfectly clear.
"And there’s the bell. The Night goes for a handshake," said Decker.
"Idiot," McTaggart sneered, "the two guys have trained together. It’s clear they’ve already met."
"I know that and you know that," said Buddy Showtime, "but does the crowd?"
Terry the Bouncer did not let go of the handshake, no matter how the Night pulled and twisted, he held firm.
"Look at him squirm, this is hilarious!"
"And wow! What a standing dropkick from the Night," shouted Decker.
"The kid’s got hops," Buddy admitted, "now if only he’d take off that ridiculous Zorro mask....
The Night's sudden standing dropkick sent Terry the Bouncer staggering, losing his grip. And the Night bounced off the ropes…with a massive Superman Punch...which Terry the Bouncer just sort of...sidestepped.
"I told the kid," yelled Buddy Showtime, "he's gotta learn patience."
Terry the Bouncer wasted no time in delivering brutal stomps to the Night's ribcage.
"Yeah," said Buddy Showtime, "I saw him do that last week to a dude who complained about the lapdances not being full service..."
"You mean he's still working as a bouncer?" asked Michael Decker, scandalized.
"I tell my students not to quit their day-jobs," said Buddy.
"Until they have a contract, right?" asked Decker.
"Maybe not even then," said McTaggart, "if they let themselves get stomped less than a minute in."
The Night rolled out of the ring and climbed the turnbuckle!
"This young man is showing remarkable pluck!" exclaimed Decker.
"And no brains," McTaggart shot back, "Terry's got him by the ankle!"
Terry the Bouncer kept a firm grip on the Night's ankle, but the Night responded by kicking his opponent in the head. The crowd gamely counted along.
Decker continued his play-by-play "Terry the Bouncer staggeed back and the Night...oh my god, is he jumping off the top turnbuckle! Flying Leg Scissors!"
Buddy Showtime was on his feet "What the hell! He's gonna shoot his wad before anyone knows what's happened!"
McTaggart restrained him with a hand on his shoulder "C'mon, weren't you ever eager when you were a rookie?"
Showtime was barely mollified, "Even back then, I knew you don't bust out something flashy until you know the guy ain't gonna make you look stupid."
And the Night grabbed Terry the Bouncer's arm, tried to roll through him, going for La Magistral! And Terry the Bouncer kicked out before the ref even noticed. Terry staggered back up to his his feet, the Night bounced back off the ropes and leapfrogged Terry the Bouncer!
"Now who's making who look stupid?!" challenged McTaggart.
Buddy's face was a mixture of excitement and horror: "That little prick! If he pulls this off, I'll never complain about his cape again..."
Decker called it as it happened, almost in slow motion "The Night coming back and OH! Terry the Bouncer just punched him full on in the face."
"Is that legal?" shouted McTaggart, "could I have just been doing that all these years?"
Decker shook his head, "Ref didn't see it."
Terry the Bouncer caught the dazed Night by the wrist and expertly twisted his arm behind his back. He pulled the arm up between the shoulder-blades and forced him down to one knee. The Ref came to check for the submission. The Night shook his head. Terry the Bouncer twisted harder, the Night made a noise that was almost a scream before he checked himself. Terry the Bouncer put one hand on the Night's forehead and pushed his head back as he pulled his arm between his shoulderblades.
"Are you sure this guy isn't a cop?" asked McTaggart.
"If he was," responded Buddy, "he's long since lost his badge. Dude couldn't even get a security guard license with his record."
"What record?" asked Decker.
Buddy shook his finger, "The Buddy Showtime Conservatory of Violent Arts does not perform background checks, only Credit Checks."
"And oh my god," shouted Decker, "the Night just backflipped his way out of the armbar! Terry the Bouncer's still got a grip on his wrist and he goes for the standing dropkick again and...Terry the Bouncer ducks!"
Showtime pounded the table: "Terry ain't stupid, you try a trick on him twice, he's going to make you pay for it."
Decker continued, "And Terry the Bouncer does just that, as he whips the Night into the corner! And he’s crouched into a three point stance. Stays still for one second, two second and OUCH! What a football tackle!"
"Terry ever play college ball?" asked McTaggart.
"Not sure he even has his GED," responded Buddy, "but it doesn’t look like he needs it."
Decker continued, "Terry the Bouncer keeps slamming his shoulder into the Night! Once! Twice! Three times! And the Night falls!"
"That was pretty good did you think of that one yourself?" asked McTaggart, bemused.
"What, was that a joke?" asked Decker, even more confused.
"Never you mind," sighed McTaggart, "leave the color to the big boys."
"And the big man’s climbing the turnbuckle! Oh my God, what’s he going to do?" Decker gripped the edge of the table.
"I haven’t taught him anything high flying!" shouted Buddy, "I’m as surprised as you are!"
McTaggart was cynical "Have you taught him anything? He’s not doing a single move he didn’t do at Platinum!"
"But I did teach him not to do the stuff he does when you try to skip out on the check," Buddy grinned.
"Do I even want to know?" asked Decker.
McTaggard and Showtime shook their heads in unison, "no."
Terry the Bouncer continued to just sort of…sit up there. The crowd shouted for him to do something. And he…climbed back down and started stomping the Night again.
"Sensible man," Buddy admitted, "he knows his limits and works within them."
The Night got his foot on the ropes, so the ref moved in to break up the stomping. The Night rolled out of the ring and stayed out this time. Terry the Bouncer does not like this.
Decker continued, "Terry the Bouncer is…yelling at the Night. And…can we get a mic out there…no, no, wait, that kind of language is not going to go on television."
"What’s the matter," taunted McTaggart, you getting triggered?"
"No," Decker retorted, "but the FCC would be. That man makes you look like…like…well, me."
Buddy Showtime preened, "I didn’t have to coach him on that either. Isn’t he great?"
The ref began the count as the Night rummaged under the ring. He pulled out a steel chair.
"Now that’s some good thinking!" crowed Buddy Showtime
...and threw it to the side.
"What the hell is he thinking," shouted McTaggart.
Then he pulled out a wrench.
"Kid always had a flair for the dramatic," said Buddy Showtime, not entirely disapproving.
And he tosses it aside, in favor of pulling out a ladder.
Showtime buried his face in his palm, "Oh God, is he doing what I think he’s doing?"
The Night set up the ladder. Terry the Bouncer continued to yell horrible things about the Night’s mother. The Night climbed the ladder, bent his knees. And launched himself at Terry the Bouncer in a Moonsault body press!
Decker shouted: "Oh my god this is…"
Buddy Showtime interrupted, "I told him to save that for the pay-per-view!"
And Terry the Bouncer…caught him. And lifted him into a gorilla press.
McTaggart was delighted, "Finally a move he didn’t learn at Platinum Plus!"
"No," Buddy corrected him, "he did that to that one underaged fratboy who got lippy on Service Industry Night."
And Terry the Bouncer tossed the Night...headfirst…against the turnbuckle!
"Gorilla-Press Snake-Eyes," Buddy Showtime explained, "he calls it the ’86."
"The cops’ll call it attempted murder!" shouted McTaggart with glee.
Terry the Bouncer rolled the Night over onto his back and away from the ropes. He made the cover, and...
3! And it’s all over!
Ladies and Gentlemen, the winner by pinfall. TERRY THE BOUNCER!
Decker was quick to respond, "a strong showing by these rookies from the…er…Buddy Showtime Conservatory of Violent Arts in Beautiful, Downtown Allentown Pennsylvania located just off Route 78 just south of Allentown Queen City Memorial Airport next to Galaxy Carpet."
McTaggart shook Buddy Showtime's hand, "Thanks for joining us in the booth, Buddy."
Standing up, Buddy slapped both men on the shoulder "It was my pleasure. Now if you’ll excuse me, gents, I’ve gotta go check on my investments."
"And the rest of you folks, stay tuned, we’ve got a great card tonight!" said Mike Decker.
The office was quiet, the clicking of the secretaries keyboard and the clock were the only noises.
It went on for what felt like forever for Chris Richards. He had just stepped off a plane in his hometown for the first time in three years, and immediately had to run to a wrestling event. He arrived with no guarantee, no idea on how he’d get paid or how much. Just that, there was a show tonight, and as a recent graduate of a training school in Japan, he knew he had to be on it.
Nineteen hours and two layovers later he sat in Ackerman’s office, just waiting on the chance to go in and impress him. To show him how big of a deal it would be to sign a local high end talent. He also felt the fatigue of the journey starting to wear on him with the monotony of the situation starting to set in.
“Mr. Ackerman will see you now,” the secretary said dryly as she placed her desk phone back on the receiver. Richards immediately jumped up and stood in front of the door for a second preparing himself. Pushed back his long hair, and took the plunge.
“Hello Mr. Acker….” he was immediately cut off, Ackerman was deep into his computer screen. He waved Chris off and pointed to a chair.
“I’m Jon Ackerman, I’m the General Manager of the International Grapplers Society. Let’s cut the chit chat, I have plenty of work I need to be doing to make sure this show runs correctly,” he said. Richards could hear the annoyance in his voice.
“Mr. Ackerman, I’m Chris Richards…” Ackerman once again waived him off.
“I see it all right here, Chris Richards, big kid, lots of potential. Went to wrestling school in Japan instead of real college. Local kid from the Philadelphia area. That’s great, we can put you on the show tonight and give you a hundred a fifty bucks for the work.” Ackerman didn’t even look up when he talked to him.
“Mr Ackerman, I think that rate is pretty low for a guy with my training pedigree and my background. Do you have time to discuss a full time roster positi…”
“Listen kid, do you think I run a charity here? I don’t know you, you’re not LLB, you’re not Kayden Paulton, you’re not anyone to me. These fans here, they might cheer when they hear ‘From Philly’ but after that you’re just another warm body to me. I’ll put you in the ring tonight, you’ll take your hundred and fifty dollars and we can talk at some point.”
Richards sighed, he could tell the conversation wasn’t going anywhere. Ackerman had done some homework on him which was great, but clearly didn’t value his experience at the same rate Richards did. That was fine, he’d earned everything up to this point. He’d earn it again.
“I’ll do you proud Mr. Acker…”
“Great kid, see you out there.”
Richards sighed, this was going to be interesting.
And out into the parking lot of the Kingdom Colisseum went Buddy Showtime. Not out the front entrance, which was predictably mobbed. Nor out the back entrance, which was similarly mobbed, but out a secondary service entrance on the side which was attended only by mouldering trash bags. Behind him was Terry the Bouncer, wearing a black nylon Showtime Conservatory windbreaker and an expression of thin-lipped satisfaction.
"Good job, kid, you were great out there." Showtime clapped the man on his shoulder and looked him in the eye, "No go on ahead, I'll meet 'cha in 20. Save me a cocktail waitress."
Thus dismissed, Terry the Bouncer pulled out his car keys and walked off, just in time for the Night to limp out the door.
"Now you, pal," and Buddy turned his gaze on his less-successful student, who was still wearing his mask, "walk with me."
The Night, who pauses to kick out some stiffness in his leg, zips up his own windbreaker and follows Buddy.
"You may not know this, pal, but you are damn lucky. Most guys with your aspirations would kill to be where you are. But that's the thing, with privilege comes responsibilities. And the first of those is to know when you're beaten. And you were beaten when he caught you coming off the ropes..."
The Night opened his mouth to protest but-
"No, zip it. You ain't earned the right to argue. Because, yeah, that was only halfway through the match. But even you've gotta admit, that's when the momentum was sealed. And yeah, I'm not saying you shoulda' laid down then and there. You should've kept putting up a good fight, try to keep the damage down. But you started escalating...started pulling out all the stops, putting your body and his on the line."
Buddy stomped his foot for emphasis.
"And you DO NOT do that if you're NOT getting paid to! Look, kid, you're young. You're what, 21?"
"I told you to zip it, but yeah, you know how old I am? 49. And I look pretty damn good, but I haven't been in the ring regularly since '99, and my last match was in 2008. Let's say it's safe to wrestle until you're 40, and maybe another decade if you're getting the big bucks: so that means you've got sixteen good years. And every big injury, every big risk -- that's gonna take a year off your career. Maybe more. Maybe it'll leave you in a damn chair and shitting into a bag. Maybe it'll leave you in the damn ground."
The Night almost spoke up. By this point, they two men were near to the front of the arena, where fans who couldn't get a ticket thronged at least to get on camera.
"But I'm not saying don't do that shit. Doing that's shit's part of the reason we got into this business in the first place, I'm saying, don't do that shit unless you're getting paid worth the risk. To you, and to your opponent. Because remember, if you botch this shit, you might not be the only one in the hospital. So that means you're out a payday, he's out a payday and because I get 25%, that means I'm out a payday. Do you really want to be responsible for that?"
The Night shook his head.
"Because right now, I've given you a shot. I've got you in front of the crowds. Play your cards right, you're gonna be in front of the cameras, and then you'll get a contract. And you don't have to do a damn thing besides learn how to keep that flippy shit of yours in check until the crowds are choking for it. Do you understand?"
The Night nodded his head.
"Good, because if you throw away your shot, you're gonna wind up like that sorry-ass half-pint..."
Buddy Showtime pointed, and the camera panned around to show a young man holding a handmade sign...
The lights of the Kingdom Coliseum suddenly dimmed, and Michael Decker primed the crowd for the next match.
"Well everyone we're about ready for our next bout of the night! And it looks like we've already got one contestant in the ring!"
"Ladies and gentlemen, currently in the ring to my left. Johnny Smith!"
"This young man has shown some recent promise in the Buddy Showtime Conservatory of Violent Arts training center. We wish him the best of luck tonight in his debut here at IGS 1."
Sounds rose into existence and drums began rhythmically echo through the arena, the crowd became restless. The drums built into a steady march and more strange sounds echoed through the rafters, the crowd began rumbling. A shadow stirred behind the curtain, the crowd became hushed.
Kellen Wolff stepped through the curtain, his stature and build garnished attention, and he liked that. He made his way down the ramp and eyeballed his opponent who was already in the ring. A young man, still in training, who almost looked to have never seen the inside of a ring until tonight. First first experience wouldn't be a good one; that was certain. Decker continued his thought as the announcer introduced the next man.
"And now entering the ring! Kellen. THE KRAKEN. Wolff."
"Kellen Wolff, gained his nickname, The Kraken, in his home country of Norway. He signed with IGS after his contract with the Oslo Wrestling Association promotion expired."
McTaggart interrupted. "Will you look at this guy! That's a big son of a.."
Decker cut him off, "6 foot 3 inches tall and nearly 300 three-hundred pounds. With an undefeated record in Norway of 8 - 0. He only signed with IGS just last week, not sure how he managed to get a match on this card with such short notice. But from what I've read in the newsletters, this should be and impressive debut."
The moment the bell rang Johnny Smith took off in a sprint and threw two elbows into the side of the head of Kellen Wolff. Wolff took them in stride, he didn't even blink. He just stared into the youngster's eyes. Smith looked uneasy for a moment, then he glanced around and backed away slightly.
Wolff advanced, backing John Smith towards the center of the ring before firing a stiff kick to the rookie's midsection, which doubled him over. The Kraken then dropped a forearm across Johnny Smith's back. Smith grimaced as Wolff laid another forearm into his back with a loud THWACK. The crowd seemed to wince as one and Smith dropped down to one knee.
"Look at that power, Michael!" McTaggart blared.
"Those are certainly some powerful shots to the back, Alan," Decker replied.
The crowd's response seemed mixed throughout the arena. Some were pleading for the rookie to get back to his feet, some were cheering the display of power. Wolff laid two more heavy forearms into Smith, dropping him face down to the canvas. and with no wasted time or momentum, Wolff backing himself into the ropes. As he returned towards his opponent he dropped to his knees driving the point of his right elbow into the rookie's back, who let a cry out, his face said it all.
"That had to hurt!" McTaggart exclaimed.
Decker jumped in quickly, "Ab-so-lute-ly, Ha Ha. So, Alan, this crowd is still trying to decide who they like. I know I'm going to regret this, but.. any opinions thus far?"
McTaggart's eyes perked up as if he'd been waiting all day for the question. "Well, try as Johnny Smith might, I just don't think he's able to match power with Kellen Wolff. Wolff is my pick to win this bout, without a doubt."
"I hate to do this, but I'm going to have to agree with you," Decker replied with a sigh.
McTaggart couldn't help himself. "And here all this time, I've thought you were a complete moron, Michael, turns out I was only half right."
Wolff lifted Smith to his feet and hoisted him to his shoulder. He strode around the ring in a circle then threw his arm across John Smith's neck and shrugged his feet straight up in the air, bent forward and slammed first timer's back to the mat. Wolff then quickly stepped over his opponent's his right arm and head with his own left leg, then with one fast motion he turned and fell to his back. Before Kellen hit the canvas his right leg had hooked his left, both his arms had gained control of Smith's left arm. With the hold locked in, the referee slid into a better position, but it was already over. The moment Wolff applied pressure the rookie tapped and the ref called for the bell.
"An impressive first showing for Kellen "The Kraken" Wolff, applying that top triangle lock to pick up the submission victory." Decker said, "I'm not sure if he has a name for it yet, but..."
McTaggart cut in, "you should really do your research, Michael!"
"Oh can you enlighten all of us here in the Kingdom Coliseum?" asked Decker as he turned towards his broadcast partner.
"..." McTaggart was silent.
"That's what I thought." Decker rolled his eyes slightly, then looked back to the camera. "Folks, we'll be right back after this short break."
The fans had just witnessed a greuling hard-fought match and their emotions were at a fever pitch as the gigantic screen above the entrance ramp began to light up. The crackling sound of static blarred out over the public announce system in the building as small children covered their aching ears. The lights in the arena went black as all attention turned to the video playing.The scene that first appeared on the video stream opened up to a dimly light room, the only light visible was that of flickering candles. Barely visible in the darkness, there were all sorts of symbols and words written on the walls of the room. The camera panned around the room trying to get a better view of the jumbled grafiti. The weak stomach fans back in the arena watched in shock as the markings on the wall looked to be made of smeared blood."The pursuit of life, liberty and happiness is nothing but a farfetched dream. Life is a precious gift that leads to only one outcome. Death is the final hurdle. Mayhem and insanity persist. Blood is the purest form of holy water soon to cleanse the earth of it's hatred. When the final curtain is drawn the only force left roaming will be that of evil." The camera in the room had stopped circling the walls and focused in on the man speaking.His body appeared to be slender in the darkness but it was very hard to tell with all of the tattered and torn clothes he wore. Fans in the building were left wondering if this was even meant to be apart of the evenings event. It must have been though, otherwise it wouldn't have been shown. Still the question loomed in the minds of everyone in attendance, who or what were they watching.Those questions would not be resolved. Just as quickly as the mysterious man finished his last word the screen went black. The building was silent as the fans sat in the darkness. Without a warning, a warm fluid began to spray from the buildings fire sprinkler system. The fans in attendance began screaming. Those sitting were now on their feet, wiping their eyes clear. Once the lights in the building started to come back to life, the scene was shocking. Everyone in attendance was covered in a crimson red substance. Out of no where, the screen above the ramp showed four gigantic bold words."THERE WILL BE BLOOD."
MacKenzie Noble sat in a rather comfortable chair just inside a set of glass double doors that led into the Kingdom Coliseum. Her long brown hair curled naturally at the tips and as she wore a dark blue pair of jeans and a white blouse, it was clear that she was waiting for somebody. Who that person was though was unclear.
Her fingers tapped on the arm of the leather chair and her blue eyes rested gently on the concrete floor behind her. Her left leg was crossed over her right one and it appeared she'd been there for a bit. She reached over into maroon purse and pulled out a cell phone.
She tapped the 'Home' key on the phone and looked at the screen with genuine interest. Alas, there was no notification there; at least not one that she was waiting for. Then, she a black Audi roll past the glass doors and gently park in a space close to the front door.
MacKenzie sighed. Finally, she thought to herself. As the man stepped out of the car she was satisfied that the person she was waiting for was actually here. The man, approximately six feet four inches, walked to the back of the car, popped the trunk, and pulled out a black leather duffel bag. He placed it on the ground, closed the trunk, and then picked the bag back up before heading towards the set of glass doors.
MacKenzie popped up out of her seat and eagerly opened the door. "You had me wondering," she yelled out at the man in a tone that suggested playful, but was barely able to mask her slight annoyance. The man's brown hair fell right at his shoulders and he had a massive beard that covered the majority of his face. His brown eyes looked at MacKenzie and there was a definite sadness to them.
The fans immediately recognized him as the former PRIME, fWo, and DEFIANCE star, and immediately roared to life.
"Mac," he spoke softly. "I'm not sure about this."
She rubbed his arm. "You promised me though. I've been training for TWO years. You promised me this!"
"Still," he scratched his beard. "I don't know if you're quite ready for this yet. Do you know what you're getting yourself into here?"
She smiled. "I always do." David sighed. His baby sister was so determined to make this world, a world he loved and detested all at the same time, her world as well.
"There's a reason why I have to keep walking away. This business will swallow you whole. This business will eat away at you. I left DEFIANCE and I thought about jumping back in a year later and I still wasn't ready to do it."
She shook her head. "This isn't about you. This is about me. This is about me taking a chance. You've seen me in the ring. You say it yourself. I belong in the ring."
"Maybe the ring," he started. "But not this business."
"Well," she shrugged her shoulders. "I'm doing it anyway. Jump on board. I need you here."
David chuckled as they walked down the hallway. "You've never needed anyone."
"You're right. I want you here. Nothing like my big brother showing me the ropes."
David looked over at his baby sister and smiled at her. He'd always sworn to protect her, at all cost. "You even have a match tonight?"
Mac shook her head. "I wish. I didn't make the card tonight. Maybe next one?"
"Maybe," he muttered. As they walked through the building, the duo found themselves in the catering area. "Why don't you go get a bite to eat. I'm going to go drop off my bag and see what I can find out about the next show for you. These people, they're not just going to open the door for you. You might have to kick it down."
She nodded her head, smiled, and hugged her brother. "Thank you so much."
"Anytime," he responded before he turned and walked away. She looked around and saw a variety of crew members and backstage staff milling about. She finally felt like she'd made it. She might not be on the card tonight, but she knew that before long she would be able to make her mark on the world.
She walked over to the catering services area and perused the various tables. She grabbed a black plastic plate and began to place some salad on her plate when she felt a large hand place itself on her ass.
"Excuse me," she started.
"No no," the man cut her off. "Don't worry about it, I've got your back."
Mac spun around and glared at the taller man. "Seems like you've got more of my ass then my back. Not sure where you come from, but from where I hail, that's a kick in the face."
As the fans get a closer look, they recognize it as Derek Ocean and they immediately start jeering the man who hailed from New Jersey.
"Is it now? I mean, I wouldn't mind watching you stretch those legs out for me if you would like."
The sound echoed throughout the backstage area. The various crew members looked around in shock at the events unfolding before their very eyes.
"Want more from where that came from?" she asked him. A smile crept across Derek's face.
"I mean, I've never been more turned on by the idea of a woman beating me up a little bit. Rough could be interesting," he crudely remarked.
Mac rolled her eyes and went back to grabbing her food. Derek though had no intention of just leaving her alone.
"Come on, what's your name?" he asked her.
"It's leave me alone," she replied. Mac began to walk away from Derek when he grabbed her arm and spun her back towards him, dropping her salad in the process.
"Where I come from, a slap across the face counts as the first and second date," he smiled. "No need to be stuck up. You might grow to like me."
"I highly doubt it," she spat back. She went to drill him in the face with a fist, but Ocean caught it in the palm of his hand.
"Nope," he chided her. "First one was free. The second one could cost you."
Then Derek felt a tap on his shoulder. "What--" he began as he spun towards the source of the aforementioned tap.
The fist of David Noble came flying across the jaw of Derek Ocean, which sent him stumbling back a few steps. Derek grabbed his mouth and pulled his hand away to see a bit of blood there.
"What the hell?" Derek yelled at David.
"From what I can see, we've got a problem here," David started as he looked over at MacKenzie. "I figured I would just go ahead and end it." He then looked over at Derek.
Derek stepped into David's face. "Is that your girl?"
"My sister," David replied ready to fight. "Even if it wasn't, it doesn't give you the right to touch or speak to her any way you so please."
"Well," Derek began. "I don't see me just letting you get away with sucker punching me."
David chuckled. "I can beat your ass right here, right now with you looking dead at me if you want. Your choice."
"David--" MacKenzie started, but she could tell that he was having none of that.
"Or I can take you out to that ring and embarrass you," Derek replied. David smiled.
"You know, I had no intention of setting foot in that ring again. I was here to support Mac, but since you seem to have an itch for pain," David suggested.
He then pushed Derek in the chest. "You've got a deal."
Derek offered a sly smile. "You have no idea what you just signed yourself up for."
Ocean then walked away, eager to get ready for his match that evening. David sighed and shook his head before he turned his attentions back to his sister.
"Sorry," he offered. She shrugged her shoulders.
"Once a hot head, always a hot head," she responded playfully. "You sure you want to do this?"
"Nope," he responded. "But I stepped in it now so I might as well follow through."
She side hugged her brother. "I appreciate you standing up for me. I could handle him though."
"That," he began. "I have no doubt about. But what you've got to understand about this business is that these guys are going to have no respect for your talents in or out of the ring. I've seen one of the best in this business, a woman though it doesn't matter, and you would still have these guys treat her nothing more than a piece of meat."
Mac slowly nodded her head. "And you think this will help?"
"No, but it should definitely send a message not to jack with you. You'll have to do the rest."
David then grabbed a water of the catering table and proceeded to walk back towards the changing area.
"Then I will," she spoke under her breath, more determined than ever.
All was quiet in the locker room, quite atypical for an arena holding a wrestling event. This, however, did not last long. The whole locker room was suddenly and mysteriously filled by an eerie green light. It was almost... alien. “The Space Pimp” Max Hopper, paranormal investigator extraordinaire, stormed in and started to rifle through a duffel bag, muttering under his breath... AGITATEDLY!
“The past is waging war against the future, using the present as their battlefield. I come here to stop the timelines from colliding and causing a meltdown, and this is what I get? Stupid Malik Roland, thinks I don’t know what year it is. Of course I know what year it is! I travel through time. I keep track of when and where I’ve been... usually.”
He continued to mutter and continued to search the duffel bag, strewing its contents all over the floor. He clearly wanted something it contained and apparently was having trouble finding whatever it was he sought.
“‘Say hi to Natalia for me, will ya?’“ he spat out... MOCKINGLY! “I haven’t seen her since I was in... what... 2005? He’s the one who doesn’t know what year it is, bringing up a buncha stuff from twelve years ago.”
EXPOSITORY PARAGRAPH LIKE A JUDO CHOP TO THE THROAT!
In 2005, Natalia Simunek was acting as Max Hopper’s manager, and it had even been rumored that they were dating. This led to such scenes as the infamous shower scene when Max Hopper accidentally walked in on his tag team partner in Pure Style, Tyke, using his shower. Unbeknownst to the Sheik of the Supernatural, Natalia had interfered in order to help him several matches, a tactic Max would never have approved of, especially back then. Eventually, she turned against him to join the Jury, hooking up with pretty much every one of them, including Malik Roland.
AND NOW BACK TO IGS 1!
Max’s lips tightened around his tongue as it stuck out of his mouth. He reached far into the depths of the duffel bag, which seemed to hold way more stuff than any normal duffel bag should.
“Ah ha! Here it is!” Hopper’s face lit up as he produced a sheet of paper and an ink pen. It was a pretty nice ink pen, too, but nothing presidential or anything. Maybe... mayoral? Yeah, it was a nice, mayoral ink pen. Not too terribly expensive.
Anyway, he furiously scribbled what must have been a rather long winded note onto the paper before sticking it halfway through the locker door.
“We’ll see who laughs last, Mammoth. Go get ‘em, me!” the Czar of the Bizarre cheered before sneaking away.
Just then, Max Hopper appeared to walk back into the locker room.
“Holy Robonukkah! What’s with the mess?” he observed, surveying all of his belongings on the cement floor. “And... hey, what’s this?” He finally spotted the note. He opened it up and started to read it, only whispering the words under his breath for the first line or so.
“Hey, it’s a letter from myself! I’m so considerate that way,” he gleefully chirped, a demeanor that failed to last as he read on. “What? No! He said that? And that?” Max gasped and crumpled up the note in his hands, whipping it at the ground. “I’ll give that hairy, Pliocene elephant a piece of my mind if he thinks he can insult me like this!”
As incensed as the sasquatch in the Jakks beef jerky commercials, Max Hopper stormed back out of the locker room to search for the PWR World Champion, Malik Roland.
"Circles" by Incubus blasted thru the speakers inside the Kingdom Coliseum, fans erupted to their feet in anticipation for a crowd favorite in Brock Metzer. Already inside of the ring Larry Agenda bounced off the ropes feeling his way around the ring seemingly unconcorned. Brock appeared from behind the curtain to an enormous pop from the audience, he quickly made his way down the ramp and slid under the ropes ready for action.
Brock Metzer and Larry Agenda circled each other in the ring as the referee called for the bell. Both men locked arms and a back and forth shoving match ensued. The fans in attendance began a rythmic clap as Larry Agenda got the upper hand in the collar and elbow tie up. Metzer was forced back in the corner as the referee tried to come between the two attempting to force a break."C'mon outta the corner Larry, let him go." the referee shouted. Larry drew back his fist to swing, Metzer grabbed him with both arms around the back of the neck and spun him one-hundred and eighty degrees pinning him in the corner. The fans roared as Metzer unleashed a flury of right and left body punches before the referee eventually pushed him out of the corner.Larry Agenda clutched at his stomach then charged forward to the center of the ring, Metzer flung him to the mat with a lightening quick arm dram. Larry had his Lucha Libre working shoes on and rolled right to his feet and charged once more. Metzer dropped to the canvas, grapevined his own feet around the ankles of Larry Agenda for a picture perfect drop toe hold. The fans had really got into the quick action and Metzer wasn't prepared to slow down. Hopping over the back of his opponenet he applied a side headlock on the canvas. The referee checked for a choke and to see if Larry Agenda wanted to continue."Tell me something Larry, do you want to go on?" came from the referee but Larry Agenda barely heard the words. He was already back up on his feet, Metzer still grasping his head. Larry backed Metzer in to the ropes then shot him off across the ring. As Metzer came sprinting back Larry Agenda lifted him across his chest and drove him into the center of the ring with a monster powerslam. The referee dropped for the cover."One!""Two- KICKOUT!"Brock Metzer got his shoulder up before the referees hand had fallen for a two. Larry Agenda looked annoyed and stuck a thumb in the eye socket of Brock Metzer to impair his vision. The fans boo'd the act as the referee began to admonish the illegal tactics. Larry pulled Metzer up by his hair, wrapped his right leg around Metzers then slid himself under Metzers left arm and stretched it into the air tearing at the abdomin of his opponent. The referee slid into position, asking Metzer if he wanted to continue. Larry Agenda cranked back on the shoulder of Metzer, stretching the core of his opponent past the lengths of the muscles and tendons holding him together physically. "Do you want to give in?" The referee asked as Metzer furiously shook his head no. Larry Agenda reached his left hand behind him and grasped the top rope of the ring adding extra leverage which nearly incapicitated Metzer. The referee asked once more, "Do you want to go on?" The fans chanted, "Please don't tap!" The pounding thunderous chant, ringing out over and over must have awoken Metzer as he roared to life, his leg untangleing from his opponents and he hoisted Larry up and over with a hip toss.Larry shot right up to his feet and Metzer connected with a picture perfect drop-kick to his opponents face. Metzer up to his knees grasped Larry and brought him to a standing position then shoved him into the ropes behind him. Larry stumbled foward off the ropes with a rebound effect and Metzer leapt into the air nailing a hurricanrana for the pin."One!""Two!""Thr- KICKOUT!"Larry managed to kickout then rolled to his feet and darted towards Metzer throwing a flailing clothes-line. Metzer ducked under his opponents out-stretched arm hooked him and drove him down in the canvas with a back-slide pin attempt."One!""Two!""Thre- KICKOUT!"Metzer sprung to his feet immediately following the pin attempt waiting for his opponent. Larry rolled to his knees, smacked the ring mat in frustration then climbed to his feet right into Metzer who was waiting above him. Metzer rolled Larry Agenda back down to the canvas with a small package pin attempt and the referee counted."One!""Two!"Three!"The fans jumped to their feet in surprise. Brock Metzer sprinted towards the corner and climbed to the second rope and posed for the crowd. While Metzer was celebrating his out-of-nowhere victory, Larry Agenda sat in the ring with his head in his hands disgusted.The ring announcer declared the decision as the bell rang. "Ladies and Gentlemen, your winner by pinfall at a time of 6:12, BRRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOCCCKK MEEEEEETTTTZZEERRR!"
"What an amazing hard-fought matchup that we just witnessed here on the debut edition of IGS 1." Michael Decker commented following the win by Brock Metzer."Yeah but did you see all the cheating that Metzer did in order to pick up that win? What a disgrace to the fairness of athletic competition." Alan McTaggart complained."I didn't see any such thing." Michael Decker replied."Metzer had a handful of Agenda's tights, are you blind or did he promise you a percentage of his draw?" Alan McTaggart mocked his broadcast partner."Nevermind your skewed perception of reality Alan, up next we have an exclusive video of a press conference held recently in Tokyo Japan. Let's go to that footage now." Michael Decker said as IGS 1 transitioned to pre-recorded coverage of two soon to be debuting competitors.What looked to be a couple hundred chairs were setup in some sort of convention hall, Japanese press members were all seated holding up recorders waiting for the two men seated in front of them so speak. At the head of the room was a couple of folding tables with microphones and wires sprawled everywhere. Behind the table set two of the newest members of the IGS roster.Global Pro Wrestlings President of Operations Ken Furukawa stood between the tables and the crowd that had showed up for the exclusive press conference. "Um- Pa-lease welcome Global Pro Wres-ling former Champ-e-ons, Lusus and Yoshitaka Maeda."There was a huge round of ovation as both Lusus and Yoshitaka Maeda leaned forward towards the microphones setup before them. Instantly a couple of hundred hands shot up in the air. Ken Furukawa pointed at someone and waited. "The two of you had matches hard fought for years, what brings you together today?"Lusus looked over at long-time rival Yoshitaka Maeda with a grin then spoke, "Domination of the Professional Wrestling world. Together with Maeda and a few other of the biggest names in Japanese Professional Wrestling, we turned Global Pro Wrestling into one of the premier promotions in the world today. Our matches in the 2000s were grueling. Sweat and blood and bruises and sometimes even broken bones were the result. All of the history between myself and Maeda showed me that there's no one tougher over here.""Uh- Lu-sus is strong competitor. Lu-sus is former title holder and gaijin monster. Ye-ears have grown trust and friendship." Yoshitaka Maeda commented."The rumor is you both will be leaving Glo-bal Pro Wres-ling, is true?" came a second question from the crowd."I will no long-er be here." Yoshitaka Maeda answered."A startup promotion in North America has contacted myself about coming back to the states. After not competiting in the U.S. for so long, not knowing the exact landscape of Professional Wrestling there, I knew I'd need someone to watch my back. No one has shown to be my equal like Yoshitaka Maeda has." Lusus added to the answer that Maeda gave. "Two of you will not be against each other again?" came a third question by the member of the press."We will not be fighting against each other, no. Once I have returned to my homeland I will be teaming with my greatest rival of all-time, Yoshitaka Maeda, to become the most dominate tag team in Professional Wrestling today." Lusus said as the conference continued.IGS 1 was running on a tight schedule for their first show and cut from the press conference footage back to the commentating team. Both Alan McTaggart and Michael Decker looked shocked at what they'd just learned. The look on both of their faces gave away that neither man had any idea about the impending arrival of Lusus and Yoshitaka Maeda. "What a coo that is Decker! Can you believe that Lusus and his feared Japanese rival Yoshitaka Maeda are coming right here to International Grappling Society?" Alan McTaggart asked giddily."I didn't expect that but it poses the question, will the former manager of Lusus, Johnathon Jacob Morrison join them here in IGS?" Michael Decker questioned back."If we get lucky. Morrison is a wrestling genuis and an incredible manager." Alan McTaggart said with a devious smile across his entire face. "Morrison is a cheat, a liar, and a scam artist but spin it how you want McTaggart. The real story here is that the tag team division of IGS just got a lot more competitive. Let this big news sink in fans and get ready for out next matchup here on the debut episode of IGS 1. Now down to the ring announcer Peter Greenburg." Michael Decker threw to the ring for the next matchup of the evening.
“FEEEED MY FRANKENSTEEEIIIIINNNN”
Feed My Frankenstein by Alice Cooper began blaring over the PA system as Erick Gamble appeared from behind the curtain. He was wearing his usual attire, blue jeans and his hands wrapped in athletic tape. He looked over his opponent on the way to the ring. The newbie was cut out of stone, his blue tights with yellow lettering up the side. The tights looked brand new, and it made Gamble chuckle. He finally made his way down to the ring and stopped to pose on the apron before entering the squared circle
Gamble and Richards stood across the ring from each other. There was no purpose to this match, no boiling hatred. This was purely a competition. An exhibition of abilities would be on display this evening. Richards fidgeted with his boots, and the tape on his wrists. He was not a veteran like Gamble, he had to prove himself here to show he belonged and that he deserved to stay. He listened as the ring announcer introduced him. Being from Philadelphia was enough to get him a little pop though, and forced a smile across his face for a moment.
“FROM TOOOOLLLLEEEEEEDDDDDDOOOOOO, OHIO ERRRIIIICCCCKKKKK GAAAAMMMMBBBLLLLEEE” a small pop for a veteran worker was common place. Erick had been around for a long time, wrestling someone green was normally above him. In this case, it was more of a test for Richards than a challenge for Gamble. He noticed the small things about Richards, the adjustments to his gear, picking at his wrist tape, being a bit struck with the crowd, the kid was nervous and Gamble could see it.
DING DING DING
Richards immediately went for a collar and elbow tie up with Gamble, who side stepped him and blasted him on the jaw line with a stiff jab. Richards recoiled backwards a few steps, the punch had stunned him. It was enough for Gamble to be immediately on top of him with a flurry of fists pushing Richards up against the ropes.
Gamble grabbed Richards’ left arm and sent him flying across the ring into the opposite ropes. Gamble in the same motion bounced himself off the closer rope and flew across the ring hitting the bigger and now returning Richards across the chest with a lariat. Chris stumbled back a few steps clutching at his chest, and immediately Gamble went back to the ropes. The kid was big, and Gamble had decided to chop him down with a low drop kick that sent Richards rolling on the ground clutching his knee.
Gamble was quick to jump on the in pain Richards. Locking in a reverse chin lock to punish the green youth more. Richards immediately grimaced, being beaten to a pulp and losing in five minutes wasn’t his idea of ‘making an impression.’
The referee was quick to come over and ask Richards if he was okay and to check on the status of the chin lock. Chris tried to give up, but Erick quickly placed his leg around Richards’ lead leg and swept him back to the ground in the chin lock. It was a veteran move and one Richards’ wasn’t expecting. Richards’ face hit the mat, as Gamble began to try to transition into a camel clutch.
Richards’ pushed back to a seated position, struggling trying to reach towards the ropes. Gamble yanked backwards on the chin, trying to get a little more damage in. Knowing he was about to lose the hold he made the veteran decision to let go and give Chris a stomp to the back of the head.
Richards on instinct made his first reasonable decision of the match, or so he thought. The six foot four, two hundred and forty-five pounder rolled out of the ring to safety. Gamble’s onslaught had been fast and furious and he needed time to rethink his position in the match. As he clutched at his head he heard the crowd yell
Gamble wasn’t going to let the larger man in the fight regroup and reset, he was going to take it to him. Watching Richards’ roll from the ring, he jumped outside onto the ring apron and ran the length of it. Smashing Richards’ across the back of the neck with a penalty kick. Richards yelled in pain as he stumbled forward into the guardrail.
Gamble continued to work his advantage with Richards hunched over the barricade. He hopped off the apron and immediately went to work choking the youth on the barricade.
Gamble hopped the barricade, and lifted Richards’ head up for a moment.
He fell to his knees, driving Richards’ face across the guardrail with a jawbreaker.
Gamble quickly hopped back over the railing and approached the ring while Richards held his neck and head writhing on the padding of the arena floor.
Erick delivered a quick stomp on his way to the ring.
Gamble rolled back in and immediately held his arms in the air.
“THIS KID AIN’T COMIN BACK!” He shouted
Richards slowly got up and began to stumble back over to the apron.
Chris finally rolled into the ring while the referee held Gamble back, giving Chris some clearance for a moment. Just a little bit more and Gamble knew the newbie would be done for. He came at a kneeling Richards with a purpose giving him another straight right to the side of the head.
The response Gamble got wasn’t what he had expected or seen from the kid so far tonight. Richards, grimacing, got to his feet and sent a forearm directly into the side of Gamble’s head. Gamble stumbled back momentarily and then sent a right hand back.
Richards caught the blow with his face, and it sent his hair whipping back. Richards responded the same way he had the first time. Another powerful forearm was sent careening into the side of Erick’s head. Richards knew he had to show Gamble that he was for real. His career depended on it. The next right hand from Gamble came, and Richards shrugged it off and fired back with another forearm. The two were trading blows and Richards could feel he was getting the better of Gamble. He reared back and threw another forearm, blasting Gamble again.
The crowd began to come to life in the trading of blows, Gamble could feel the momentum slipping. Blinking through his mop of hair he saw another forearm come crashing in. It was too late for him as he felt it connect.
The kid did indeed have something. Gamble stumbled backwards, the third forearm in a row was too much. He tossed his hair back and he saw the larger Richards, once again at the last moment. Richards had exploded forward, using his powerful frame to generate considerable speed and power over a short distance and destroyed Gamble with a short arm lariat.
Richards pounced on top of Gamble, pressing on his chest for the pinfall.
Gamble kicked out, no way in hell was a clothesline and some forearms putting away The Cold Blooded Killer. Richards went quickly into a chinlock, trying to give the veteran some pain in return. Gamble quickly scrambled to his knees and grabbed a rope. Leaving the ref going to separate the two. He managed to shoot a hand in, and rake it across Richards’ eye.
Richards’ stumbled back towards the center of the ring and Gamble came in quickly and decisively planting him with a swinging neck breaker. As Richards sat up Gamble was already back on him, coming in with a low drop kick to the mouth.
Richards’ head shot back off the mat as Gamble scrambled to his feet and grabbed the kids head on the recoil. Gamble quickly pulled him over to the ropes, and used the ropes to choke him. The ref began the count, which Gamble waited the full four seconds to let go.
Gamble took a second to taunt the crowd, before driving a boot back across Richards’ face. Sending him between the ropes to the apron. Gamble appeared instantly on the apron, picking up the larger Richards and dropping him with a jumping back breaker, using the apron as the pivot instead of his knee. Richards, stumbled to the barrier clutching his back.
The Gamble came sprinting off the apron diving with a leg stretched out trying to drive it into Richards’ face. Richards managed to move out of the way of the kick. Gamble landed on his feet and spun swinging a spinning back fist in Richards’ direction.
Richards managed to back away and kept Gamble spinning, grabbing his arm and hooking it into a half nelson. He quickly rolled Gamble backwards, planting him on the outside with a half nelson suplex. Gamble felt the flash of pain in his neck and saw stars. Richards’ was still rolling on the outside clutching at his back.
The ref’s count spurred him into action. He rolled into the ring at almost the same moment as Richards. The two foes laid in the middle of the ring staring up at the lights. Gamble suddenly surprised by the amount of fight in the youngster, while Richards was fighting to just survive. The pain in his lower back ached, but he knew he had to keep fighting.
The two hit their feet at similar times, and Gamble pounced with a kick to the leg. Richards, went back to kneeling for only a moment. Erick once again was the aggressor, grabbing Richards by the arm and sending him flying into the corner.
Erick had enough, he followed the kid into the corner and blasted him with ‘the scalper’ a Yakuza kick across the face. Richards immediately flopped onto his face. Gamble dove down, turning the youngster over and hooking his leg.
Richards kicked out on pure instinct as the referee’s hand almost reached the canvas. Gamble was outraged, holding three fingers up at the ref. He was sure he had heard the three count before Richards’ shoulder came up. Richards had managed to crawl over into the corner by the end of Gamble’s rant, and pulled himself up.
“Stay down kid!”
Gamble shouted, he had backed into the far corner and lunged forward putting more on the ‘scalper’ Yakuza kick this time, it sent Richards sprawling into the corner. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth onto the bottom turnbuckle where his head had landed.
Gamble was already back across the ring as Richards reached up and grabbed the top rope dragging himself to his feet again.
“I SAID STAY DOWN KID!” Gamble roared, the crowd booed Gamble disapprovingly in return.
He came sprinting in for another ‘scalper.’
Richards slipped behind Gamble letting him crash into the corner. He quickly grabbed Gamble’s waist, and with Gamble’s leg still draped over the top rope he lifted him over his head and planted Gamble in the center of the ring with a high release German Suplex.
The crowd roared in approval as Gamble landed flush on his neck.
The two laid on the mat, Gamble clutching his neck and Richards’ still holding his face from the 2nd ‘Scalper.’ Slowly they began to crawl to their feet. Both men stumbling around the ring. Richards was first to strike. Throwing a forearm that connected with Gamble’s neck.
Once again the two were in a strike off. Gamble blasted Richards in his busted lip with a right hand staggering him backwards. What happened next about floored Gamble.
“HIT ME AGAIN MOTHER FUCKER!” Richards yelled as he patted his swollen busted mouth with his hand.
Gamble obliged, once again sending Richards reeling.
Gamble really leaned back and blasted Richards this time. Sending the kid stumbling back again. This time he spat blood on the mat. Grimacing he tapped himself on the mouth again. Asking for another.
Gamble gave it everything he had, and Richards stumbled backwards, then exploded off the corner. Coming at Gamble and leveling him with a right forearm. Then a quick knee to the forehead. Gamble in shock and desperation went to the ropes and ran at Richards.
Richards flopped to the mat letting Gamble run over him. Erick came flying back, and Richards had loaded up a lariat but Gamble ducked under while Richards used his momentum to bounce off the ropes. The two met in the center of the ring. Richards trying to float around behind with a double hook of Gamble’s arms.
Gamble, ducked under Richards and lifted him up onto his shoulders for a Death Valley Driver. Richards kept his feet kicking though and slid back around behind Gamble. In an instant he had hooked both arms and flipped Gamble over his head.
Richards had driven Gamble’s head directly into the mat, and landed in a perfect bridge, with Gamble’s arms still pulled tight from the Snap High Angle Tiger Suplex!
Richards let the bridge go and slumped to the mat, while Gamble flopped to his side holding his neck and staring off into outer space.
“YOUR WINNER! CHRIS RICHAAAARRRRRDDDDDSSSSS!!!!” The announcer bellowed as Richards slowly crawled his way to his feet, and began waving for the microphone.
The microphone had finally made it’s way to Richards, who stood defiantly in the ring as Gamble had begun his stumble to the back. As the microphone finally made it to him, he wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth.
“It feels great to be home Allentown,” Richards paused as he looked out into the crowd smiling. He could hear the chant starting.
He’s from Philly
Richards waived the crowd down and brought the microphone back up to his busted lip.
“These suits in the back have no idea, but we all know that we take care of our own around here.”
“I want to thank you all for the support this evening, I want to thank you all for being the best wrestling city in this country, and I want to let you all know that I hope to be back.”
Richards reached into his tights and pulled out a small wad of twenties and tens.
“Mr. Ackerman, keep your money. Working in front of these people was enough for tonight. THANK YOU ALLENTOWN!” Richards said as he dropped the hundred and fifty dollars from earlier in the ring and walked up the ramp, slapping hands and hugging fans the entire way.
He didn’t need any music tonight, he had Allentown behind him.
He’s from Philly
"What an amazing night it has been here at the Kindom Coliseum." Michael Deckard said as he turned away from the camera toward his co-host. "So many great performances wouldn't you say, Alan?"
"It surely has been an amazing night, Michael!" Taggart yelled in reply, "even if I'm not too happy with the refereeing!"
"Oh give me a break. Will you stop with that nonsense?! Every time... hold that thought." Michael Decker put his finger to his earpiece and turned to the camera. "Folks it seems Amelia Mazzi has just caught up with Kellen Wolff to discuss his coming to IGS and his impressive debut from earlier this evening. Amelia, take it away."
The scene cut to a hallway, somewhere deep within the Kingdom Coliseum. White, concrete walls were lined with tables and rolling equipment cases. Amelia Mazzi stood looking up at the large Norwegian standing next to her and then turned back the camera.
"Thanks, Michael," Mazzi started, "that's right. I'm here with The Kraken to find out his thoughts on IGS and more." She turned to Wolff, "Kellen, what made you decide to accept the IGS contract offer and leave Norway?"
Kellen looked at Amelia then to the camera, his eyes were fierce, his face determined. "I come to IGS, to America," he answered in a booming, accented voice; he raised his arms and looked up slightly, "for the immense opportunities this company provide to me." He returned his eyes to the camera. "Here in America, I plan domination. I take all comers and show this country, and the world, my true strength and power."
Mazzi looked on as Wolff spoke, then posed another question as he finished. "And what type of goals are you setting for yourself here in the International Grapplers Society?"
Kellen's face and voice were confident. He answered simply. "Supremacy," he followed the words with a wide grin.
"Well there you have it," Amelia started with a smile as the camera reframed her face, "powerful words from the debuting Norwegian. Coming up next we have even more fantastic IGS action! Back to you, Michael."
"Interesting words from the Kraken, don't you think Alan?"
"I'd say so Mike, that Kellen guy has everything it takens to be a major player here in IGS." McTaggart replied boisterously.
"YOU would think so, doesn't seem like the most scrupulous of characters." Michael Decker uttered sarcastically
"Hey now don't you sully the good name of Kellen Wolff." McTaggart raised his eyebrows in defiance.
"Anyway both contestants are already in the ring, thi should be good a good contest."
The bell rang and Luscious circled Steve Solex. The fans began to slowly clap at the urging of Miguel on the outside of the ring. Having his much larger brother there at ringside was a good confidence booster for Luscious. The two combatants continued to circle each other looking for the right time to make a move. IGS official Blake Gates motioned for both men to get the physical contact going and said "C'mon guys, let's work."
Luscious lunged forward to lock up with Steve Solex and the two men tangled in the center of the ring. Jockying back and forth for control, the two moved towards the ring ropes. Steve Solex ducked himself under the top rope and the referee came between the two men attempting to break them apart. Miguel moved around ringside towards the action. "Outta the ropes, c'mon..""One.""Two.""Seperate..""Three.""Four."Luscious pulled free from Steve Solex and backed away. Solex complained to the referee about Luscious taking so long to break. Miguel on the outside watched the action which drew the ire of Solex. "Get him back!" screamed Steve Solex as he swatted his right hand at the face of Miguel. Seeing this, Luscious came charging and Solex shouted at the referee to enforce the rules and keep him protected while he was in the ropes. As the referee did his best to control the action and moved Luscious back towards the center of the ring, Solex came charging with a solid haymaker. Luscious hit the canvas flat on his back and the referee looked frustrated. Solex went on the attack kneeling over his prone opponent and dropped hammer fists down. Luscious did his best to protect himself as the referee who'd already reached the five count, pulled Steve Solex off his opponent."No open fists. Answer to my count of five. Break when I say break." Steve Solex ignored the words of admonishment by the referee and went right back on the attack. Luscious was just getting up to his knees when Solex drove him onto the top of his head with a DDT. Solex went for the cover as the fans all stood."One.""Two.""Thr- KICKOUT!"Luscious got his left shoulder off the canvas just in time to break the count. Miguel on the outside began pounding on the edge of the ring trying to get the fans to join in. The ring nearly began to shake from the physical force of the massive Miguel on the outside. Steve Solex lifted Luscious up to his feet and shot him off into the ropes. Luscious came sprinting back just as Solex hunched over for a back-body drop. Luscious hurdled over his opponent and stopped right behind him. Solex stood up looking confused and turned around right in time for Luscious to throw a kick to the mid-section. Solex caught the foot of his opponent and shook his head no, "nice try but nuh-uh." Solex taunted Luscious who hopped around on his one free foot before leaping in the air and cracking Solex in the back of the head with an enzugari. As Solex hit the canvas face first, Luscious rolled him onto his back and covered him."One!""Two!""Thre- KICKOUT!"Steve Solex managed to get his shoulder up to break the pin attempt. Luscious brought Solex up to his feet and peppered him with rights and lefts. Steve Solex was rocking, wobbly on his feet as he backed up towards the ring ropes. Luscious closed the distance, grasped Solex by the left wrist and irish whipped him towards the far side of the ring. Miguel who was on the outside trying to get the fans into the action turned around just in time for Solex to come sliding feet first into his chest with a baseball slide dropkick.Miguel stumbled back towards the guard rail as Solex stood up in the ring and pointed out over the top rope shouting at his opponents much larger younger brother. Luscious ran up behind Solex and wrapped his arms around his opponents waist. With a little richochet action from the ropes, Luscious rolled backwards with his opponent and had Solex pinned ot the mat with a cradle pin attempt."On- KICKOUT!"Solex powered out of the pin attempt kicking his opponent off of him. Solex climbed to his feet just as Miguel pulled himself up from the arena floor and onto the ring apron. Miguel lifted his right fist ready to unleash a huge knockout blow as Solex begged off. Pleading with the mountain of a man standing on the ring apron, Solex turned around right into his waiting opponents grasp.CALIFORNIA SUNSHINE!Steve Solexs' neck snapped backwards on impact, his whole body jarred and shook as he rolled to the canvas on his back. Luscious scrambled over to make the cover of his opponent as Miguel climbed down off of the ring apron and counted along with both the fans and the IGS official."One!""Two!""Three!"Luscious climbed up off of his defeated opponent as his brother Miguel took one large step up to the ring apron then another large step over the top rope and into the ring. Solex rolled towards the edge of the ring and right off onto the arena floor where he continued to lay exhausted and in pain. Miguel lifted his brother Luscious up on his shoulders as the fans cheered. IGS Ring Announcer Peter Greenberg made the announcement to the frenzied crowd, "Ladies and gentlemen, you're winner by pinfall... LUUUUUUSCIOOOOUUSS!"
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” An annoyed Malik Roland directed towards an IGS official. “What’s your name son?”
The camera panned to the left to show an athletic trainer taping the hands and wrists of Malik Roland. Hanging behind him were the PWR World Championship that was deactivated earlier in the night and his newly awarded IGS World Championship. Sweat dripped off of his face he responded.
“I’m Gary Parks, sir.” he said reluctantly.
“Well Gary…” Malik sighed. “Why is this taking so long?”
Suddenly, an eerie green light filled the room, and none other than Max Hopper himself burst through the door, invading the IGS Champion’s personal sanctuary like a martian from War of the World's. “Hey, Guy!” he greeted Gary. That was before he spotted Malik Roland. “You!” he growled.
Malik Roland turned his attention toward the Space Pimp, a diversion which Gary seized as the perfect opportunity to make his getaway. He probably snuck out early to go meet some friends at the bar. Speculation on this point was kept to a minimum, as it had little bearing on the confrontation that followed.
“How dare you say such things, guy! It’s bad enough that the timelines are colliding, with the past waging war against the future in the present, but then you insult me like that? Who do you think you are?!?” Max was incensed, scolding the Mammoth like he had just appeared in an Ewoks Gone Wild video.
A smile grew on the face of Malik Roland as he stood from his chair, surveying the locker room before bursting out in laughter. Clutching his stomach he turned his attention back to Max Hopper before barely managing to spit out his word.
“Where’s the cameras at Max?” Still laughing The Mammoth continued. “You’ve been working on your improv right?”
“Improv? Improv?!?” Max’s face was as serious as the second coming of Gozer. “This isn’t an improv, guy. I’m here to challenge you by right of vengeance, in accordance with Klingon customs! I came to IGS to stop a time war, and what do I get from you? INSULTS!"
“You’re beginning to annoy me Maxwell, I don’t think you want to do that.” Malik sneered.
“What do you know about what I want to do?” Max snapped back. “You don’t know what’s on my mind. Well, I guess you do, because I just told you, but that’s not the point!”
“Out of curiosity how many times have I put my fists through your face over the years Detective? Better yet, have you discovered any aliens lately? Did you find the lost city of Atlantis? Do you even know what year we’re in Time Traveler?” Malik snickered.
“What year we’re in?” Max scoffed. “Of course I know what year we’re in! That’s time travel 101, guy! It’s, uh... it’s, uh... Siri,” the Czar of Bizarre asked, picking up his iPhone, “what year is it?”
Siri answered in her robotic kind of voice, “It's 2017.”
“Wait, is that CE, or BCE?” The Space Pimp scratched his head, a bit confused.
“As time changes in that feeble mind of yours, one thing is always a constant Maxine. I’m a champion and you’re always going to be second fiddle.”
“I’m a champion, too, you know. Not only that, but I’m the Guardian of the Keystone!” Max Hopper fired back. “And who are you to talk about feeble minds? You go about your day-to-day life with no idea what’s really happening in this universe, let alone any others! I’ve seen things you wouldn’t believe. I even got pregnant by a female alien seahorse. I’m the Space Pimp! I don’t always beam down to the planet, but when I do, I seduce their female leaders.”
The disgust began to mount on the face of Roland, he grabbed his two championship belts and walked towards the door of his locker room before giving Max Hopper some parting words.
“Say hi to Natalia for me, will ya’?” as he exited the room, leaving Max Hopper even more fuming mad than when he already was.
Peter Greenberg stood in the middle of the ring. He readied himself to start next match. "The following match is set for one fall, introducing first..."
Then, Mozart's Fifth Concerto played throughout the arena and out stepped Derek Ocean to a conclave of boos. He walked down the ramp with a purpose.
"Tonight will be the night that Derek Ocean can make his impact on everyone here in IGS," Alan stated.
"He's going to have a hefty challenge in front of him though," Michael countered.
"David Noble? Who hasn't wrestled in three years? He didn't even expect to wrestle tonight!" Alan shot back.
"Still, you're dealing with someone who is extremely talented," Michael retorted.
"Hailing from Bayonne, New Jersey and standing at six feet three inches tall, he is the one with the motion... DEREK! OCEAN!"
"And," Peter continued. "His opponent..."
"And listen to these fans in the Kingdom Coliseum" Michael roared.
"Meh. I've heard better," Alan chortled.
Then, as the lights dimmed, "Believer" by Imagine Dragons ripped through the Kingdom Coliseum and twenty thousand fans immediately rose to their feet. The tron flashed a series of images from the career of David Noble, highlighting moments from PRIME, fWo, and DEFIANCE.
"First things first
I'ma say all the words inside my head
I'm fired up and tired of the way that things have been, oh ooh
The way that things have been, oh ooh"
Then from the back, dressed in a pair of black tights and wrestling boots emerged David Noble. On his tights, his left leg spelled out his first name and his right leg spelled out his right name. Behind him stood MacKenzie, she looked as stunning as ever.
Second, don't you tell me what you think that I can be
I'm the one at the sail, I'm the master of my sea, oh ooh
The master of my sea, oh ooh"
David began to make his way down the ramp, his fist connected with the fists of his fans. He could feel the energy in the Coliseum as he felt the goosebumps run over his arms.
"I was broken from a young age
Taking my soul into the masses
Write down my poems for the few
That looked at me took to me, shook to me, feeling me
Singing from heart ache from the pain
Take up my message from the veins
Speaking my lesson from the brain
Seeing the beauty through the"
Noble then slid into the ring through the bottom rope and ran up the opposite turnbuckle with his arms outstretched.
Fireworks exploded in the Coliseum, behind him and around the arena.
"You made me a, you made me a believer, believer
You break me down, you build me up, believer, believer
I let the bullets fly, oh let them rain
My luck, my love, my God, they came from
You made me a, you made me a believer, believer"
He hopped off the top turnbuckle and landed on his feet as the lights turned back on and the music faded out. He looked over at his opponent and was ready for battle.
"Hailing from Buffalo, New York and standing at six feet two inches tall... DAVID! NOBLE!"
"Noble is going to have a ton of ring rust to knock off," Michael noted.
"I wouldn't mind knocking some ring rust off of his sister if you know what I mean," Alan stated disgustingly.
"Say that to David. I'm sure that will go real well," Michael shot back.
"Meh. I'm good," Alan slinked back.
David made his way to the corner opposite of Derek Ocean and squatted in the corner, his back resting against the middle turnbuckle. The fans stood on their feet and cheered him on. Out of the corner of his right eye, he could see MacKenzie standing on the floor below with a smile on her face.
"Noble getting comfortable in that ring, having stepped away after a number of years," Michael noticed.
"I don't remember him being that good anyways," Alan stated.
"Noble has been considered one of the greatest in-ring talents of his generation," Michael responded.
"That's not saying much," Alan shot back.
He had never intended to step back inside of the ring. He was content with letting that life go and moving forward in a new direction. He'd made good money during his various tenures and would be able to live off of that for a very long time and even longer if he invested it well.
Yet, here he was. His only bit of training had come in the form of working MacKenzie out. He was out of practice and he knew it. He would be rusty, his cardio would be shot, but still he was in the ring.
DING! DING! DING!
"And we're off!" Michael roared.
Alan laughed. "You make it sound like a bull race."
The bell rang and Noble shot out of the corner like a cannon, lowered his shoulder, and tackled Derek to the ground to a large roar from the crowd. Noble mounted Ocean and began pelting him with strike after strike to the face. The referee quickly moved around and ordered David to break off and Noble did just that, moving around the race to keep the adrenaline pushing through his veins.
"See? Disqualify him. He's got no business being in that ring," Alan yelled.
"What? Are you crazy?"
The fans loved everything they saw from David as he bounced up and down. Ocean looked on, pissed, and took his time getting back to his feet. Derek moved towards Noble and David slipped behind the slightly larger opponent before clubbing him furiously in the back of the neck with his left forearm before he wrapped his arms around Ocean's waist and lifted him up and over for a German Suplex.
"What an impressive move there from Noble! He's quickly finding his rhythm once again," Michael noted.
"What? A German Suplex? I'm supposed to be impressed with that?"
"Can you do a German Suplex?"
"Did it last night to your Mom--OW!"
"I told you about bringing up my mother."
Ocean clutched the back of his head and neck in pain as he rolled away from David. This was not what he expected from the out of practice retired wrestler. Noble pulled himself up using the ropes and began to walk over to Ocean. The referee tried to give Derek his space, but Noble was not interested in that at all as he started to pull Derek off the mat only to be met with an elbow to the midsection.
"Ha!" Alan yelled. "That's what you get!"
"Ocean taking any advantage he can over Noble as the early portions of this match have not been kind to him."
"Noble had energy. Ocean wanted to let him wear himself out. It's called being smart."
"I don't think we've ever seen Ocean be smart a day in his life."
With the wind knocked out of him, David turned away from Ocean and doubled over. Ocean took the opening as he came up behind Noble and connected with a Russian Leg Sweep. Noble felt the back of his skull connect with the mat and instinctively covered up. Derek bounced back up to his feet, flew off the ropes, and leapt into the air before dropping a knee across the face of his opponent. Noble rolled around in pain from the shot.
"And Ocean starting to get into a rhythm himself here," Michael reported.
"Exactly. There's no way Noble is going to pull off the victory here."
"It's still pretty early."
"I'll put money on it."
"Your contract SPECIFICALLY states that you CAN'T bet on matches anymore!"
"Damnit, what are you, my mom?!"
Ocean sensed blood in the water and immediately started to plan his right boot into the gut of Noble. The referee began ordering Derek to knock it off, but Ocean ignored him and only intensified his shots, stopping only when the referee had reached a four count. He walked away from Noble and watched in glee as Noble struggled to get back up to his feet.
"Noble having a tough go at it here," Michael stated.
Alan was quick to respond. "Maybe now I can date his sister."
"I highly doubt that."
"Man, you know how to suck all of the fun out of everything."
David had forgotten the pain aspect of being in the business. He heard MacKenzie cheering him on in the background and fought his way up to his feet. Ocean struck again as he wrapped his arms around Noble and tried to go for a snap suplex. Noble managed to block it with a well-placed elbow to the jaw. Ocean was stunned, but only for a moment, before he lifted David up and connected with the side suplex.
"That's my boy!" Alan roared.
"Didn't you think he was the luggage guy when we got here earlier today?"
"People make mistakes!"
"You tried to give him five dollars. So you are a cheapskate as well?"
Ocean rolled through and proceeded to put David into an armbar. David grunted in pain as Frank pulled back on his left arm, determined to rip it out of it's socket. The referee checked on David who refused to give up. Noble reached over with his right arm and began to peel away Ocean's feet only to be met with a kick to the face for his trouble. David fought through the pain and managed to roll onto his knees and pin Ocean's shoulders to the mat.
"Noble almost pulled off the victory there," Michael stated.
"Almost is never the real deal," Alan retorted.
"Is that what you tell all of the girls?"
"ONE TIME! THAT HAPPENED ONE TIME!"
"You know getting angry counteracts your ED pills, right?"
"I hate you."
Ocean quickly broke the hold and kicked out before the three count. Noble shook his left arm in pain, trying to get it to feel right. Derek got back up to his feet and connected with a dropkick. He then bounced off the ropes and nailed an elbow to the sternum. Ocean bounced back up to his feet once again, pulled Noble up with him, and connected with a sidewalk slam.
"And Derek Ocean has taken complete control of this match," Michael noted.
"Not a good sign here for Noble. He is withering faster than a plant in the Arizona desert."
"Let's not talk about flaccid skinny green things."
"I really hate you, Michael."
Noble laid on the mat, looking up at the lights, and felt every inch of his body screaming out in pain. This was not what he expected. He hadn't prepared himself mentally or physically and his body was making sure he knew it. Noble slowly sat up only to see Ocean bouncing off of the ropes and going for a kick to his face. David quickly laid back to duck the move and sent Ocean flying past him.
"And Noble's athleticism coming in hand here!" Michael roared.
"He probably found a penny."
"In the middle of the wrestling ring?!"
"It could happen!"
Noble quickly rolled onto his knees and managed to catch Derek with a beautifully executed dropkick that sent Ocean into the ropes. As Noble got back up, Ocean came at him with a clothesline, but Noble managed to duck it, grab the extended arm of Ocean, slid his body across the shoulders of Derek Ocean, and nail him with a spinning DDT. Both men laid in the middle of the ring, exhausted.
"And Noble with an AMAZING spinning DDT that took Ocean by surprise there! That was the moment he needed to slow Derek's momentum," Michael stated.
"I have a question."
"And that is?"
"Is he related at all to Frank Ocean?"
"You are an idiot."
David's chest heaved from the lack of conditioning. He slowly sat up and began clapping his hands as the fans rallied behind him. Ocean tried to roll to his knees and Noble bounced up to his feet, letting the adrenaline and momentum carry him. He bounced off the ropes and slammed his knee into the face of a sitting Derek Ocean.
"How is that even legal?!" Alan yelled at the referee.
"It's a knee. To the face. Seriously?"
"Suck my left knee, Michael."
"That'll be the first thing sucked on you in life."
Noble pulled Ocean off of the mat, pushed him into the corner and began pelting him with a series of kicks to the midsection. Derek tried to push Noble away, but this resulted in Noble coming back at him, running up the ropes and nailing an enziguri to the back of Ocean's skull. Noble managed to land on the second turnbuckle and connected with a shooting star press onto the back of the challenger.
"What amazing acrobatics there from Noble! The enziguri into the shooting star press! You can see him getting a feeling for being in that ring once again," Michael noted.
"Oh yay. He did a flip. Color me surprised. NOT!"
"Is it tough?"
"Being a class grade jerk."
"Yes. It is."
David made his way back up to his feet and dragged Ocean to the middle of the ring. He then climbed to the top rope and went for a Frog Splash only for Derek to move out of the way. Noble crashed to the mat hard and MacKenzie's hands quickly covered her face in shock. David rolled around in agony as Ocean caught his breath and made his way back up to his feet. Noble was caught off guard with a series of swift kicks to his face from Ocean.
"What devastating shots from Derek there!" Michael roared.
"Derek might be able to hit a move here and there, but at the end of the day, Ocean is the one that has what it takes to pull off this victory."
"That still remains to be seen. Still need a pinfall before you can say that."
"Oh, that's coming. Just you wait."
Derek grabbed Noble by the back of his neck, pulled him off of the mat, and slammed him face first into the top turnbuckle closest to them. Derek then grabbed a reeling Noble and connected with a bridging German Suplex!
"COME ON REF!" Alan yelled at the referee again.
"You make no attempt to be impartial, do you?"
"What fun is that?"
Noble managed to roll out of the pin in the nick of time. Noble laid on his back as Ocean challenged the referee on the count. He walked over to Noble to pull him back off of the mat only for David to grab him by the back of his neck and pull him into a Gogoplata!
"And Noble just sucked Derek! Derek might be done!" Michael roared.
"He's killing him! That has to be illegal!"
"That's not what's happening there."
"What do you know?!"
The fans roared to life as they watched Derek struggle against the choke that David had on him. The referee checked on Ocean as he flailed around, desperate to not tap out. Ocean began pelting fist after fist into the ribcage of Noble until Noble had no choice but to break the move. Ocean grabbed his throat in agony as Noble made his way back up to his feet.
"And Noble needs to do something quick to keep the momentum in his favor!" Michael noted.
"I hope he dies."
"Well, aren't you a regular day Cupid."
"Arrows and all, Michael. Arrows and all."
Ocean turned towards Noble, but it was too late as David caught him on the chin with a super kick that dropped Derek in the middle of the ring. Noble then made his way to the corner, climbed to the top rope, and proceeded to connect with the Corkscrew Shooting Star Press, otherwise known as the Leap of Faith!
"No, no, no," Alan moaned.
"And that should do it! Noble is going to get the victory here!"
"I'm going to be so sick."
"Do it over there."
Noble then made the cover.
"Your winner... DAVID! NOBLE!" roared Peter.
Noble rolled off of Ocean, victorious in his first match in a few years. David couldn't believe it and felt the beads of sweat in his beard and his long hair. He looked over at MacKenzie who was beaming with happiness for her brother and clapped over and over again.
"What a battle for Noble and his first victory in IGS! This could be huge," Michael stated.
"I hope he never returns. Hate his stupid face."
"Did he bang your sister?"
"I guess who hasn't, right?"
"I HATE YOU!"
The fans cheered Noble on as he sat up. He looked over at Ocean, who was being looked at by the referee to make sure he was okay. Noble looked over to the ring announcer, stood up, and made his way over to them, demanding a microphone in the process.
Noble held the microphone in his hands as he looked out at the audience and then at MacKenzie. She smiled at him and gave him a thumbs up.
He lifted the microphone to his lips and was ready to speak when the chants from the fans stopped him.
"YOU'VE STILL GOT IT!"*clap clap clapclapclap*
Noble looked around the Coliseum as they repeated it again.
Noble lifted the microphone to his lips once again, but couldn't quite get the words out.
David looked out at MacKenzie who was looking out at the fans, shocked by this overt display from the fans. She looked back at David who was kind of taken aback.
'Thank you', Noble mouthed to the fans. He lifted the microphone to his lips once again and this time they quieted down.
"That means the world to me. Because when I step into this ring, I do it for myself just as much as I do it for all of you."
"I want to tell you all something. I never intended to step foot back into a ring again. After I left DEFIANCE, I was over it all."
Noble smiled. He knew they wouldn't like that.
Noble started again. "Tonight, you look at that fool, Derek Ocean and it reminded me of every reason why I got into this ring. Because I was like so many of you all. Picked on. Bullied. Thought less than something. It's funny how things go back around and around when you look at the world we live in today."
"My moral compass always points north. I might be brash, I might be an asshole, I might be a dick, but at the end of the day, I know where I fall. I fall on the side of right. I fall on the side of doing the right thing. Whether I like you or not, if someone is doing wrong to you, I'm not going to sit idly by. I'm going to get into their face."
He walked over to the ropes as Ocean started to disappear backstage. "And that fool over there, he thought he could get into my sister's face and treat her with disrespect. I guess he learned otherwise."
He looked back out at the fans. "And that's why I'm stepping back into this ring. Because people like that need to be put in their place and because each and every one of you deserve to watch someone who is going to come out here and put on the best possible show for you each and every night.
"So let this be a notice to every single person in the back, you step in this ring, you're going to encounter the very best in this business. I don't care how many titles I win, I don't care how many victories I gain, at the end of the day, when fans look back at their night, they are going to tell their friends, their family, their loved ones that the best match of the night featured me."
"It would be easy for me to set my sighs on the World Championship. Malik Roland, you can keep it. You can think of yourself as the best wrestler in IGS, but you and I will always know the truth. That you are only as good as I let you be. That you might have the top title, but I will have the top billing. Every. Single. Night."
"I don't need that title. The title I want? That's the 5*Star Championship. The title that describes the BEST damn wrestler in the business today. And that's the title, I'm going to take and make it THE title to have in this business."
"You all have been warned."
Noble then dropped the microphone and rolled out of the ring with MacKenzie by his side. "Believer" by Imagine Dragons ripped through the Kingdom Coliseum as Noble made his way back up the ramp.
"What a statement made by Noble!" Michael roared.
"He's a fool. How can you NOT want to be the World Champion?"
"I think he made himself very clear, Alan."
"Yes. A clear idiot."
The scene cut to the backstage area, moments before LLB was set to face Shawn Hart. And there LLB stood with a random interviewer, whose name wasn't even known yet. The interviewer first spoke.
"LLB, just moments from now you're set to face Shawn Hart in the main event of tonight." LLB nodded while the interviewer continued. "But you also haven't wrestled in two years. Are you ready to-"
This was by the crowd going crazy and chanting "OB- JECT- ION! OB- JECT- ION!" over and over again.
"I'm always ready! The law never takes a day off, even if I take a year off. Or two. Shawn Hart is good, I'll give him that. He's had an amazing run in his career and our paths have never crossed. But I can tell you something. He's guilty. He's definitely guilty."
The fans started to chant "GUILT-Y, GUILT-Y!" now.
"Shawn Hart. While our paths have never crossed that doesn't mean I don't know who you are. That doesn't mean I haven't studied you on film. The reason why I've been so successful in my career is because I work at it. I'm not taking this main event for granted. I'm not going to come in there and just rely on my past work. This is a new start in the IGS. Beyond that, while this is the last match of the night... to me... it might as well be a dark match. This is a proving ground, Shawn. You and I are going to court and only one of us is going to come out on top. The people, amen, the jury will decide the winner tonight."
Long pause. The fans changed their chanting to "LLB, LLB".
"Well," LLB laughed. "They might have already decided. But I'll just pretend that didn't happen."
LLB started to pace back and forth. He had the mic in his hands. The interviewer, who was long gone by now, left 'The Law' to carry the segment by himself. He was totally okay with that.
"Shawn Hart, I call you to the stand. Shawn Hart, I suggest you tell the truth and nothing but the truth." LLB smiled straight into the camera. "Yes, I'm aware I typically wouldn't say that." He went back to taking in cheers from the crowd. "Shawn Hart, tonight, I find you..."
LLB looked up, rather surprised. Into the scene walked former Action and jOlt wrestler, Kayden Paulton. They call him 'The Nice Guy' or 'The Passive Aggressive". Not a bad bone in his body and nothing but good things to say, Kayden walked over beside LLB and stuck out his hand. At first, LLB seemed taken back but he shook it.
"LLB, really nice to meet you. Our paths hadn't crossed just yet." Paulton rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry to interrupt, but I just wanted to say hi."
"Um, no problem." LLB politely replied. "You're right , though, you know. Tonight I will find Shawn Hart..."
Long pause, just waiting for the crowd to cheer along.
"Tonight I find Shawn Hart..."
"GUILTY." LLB shouted into the mic and Paulton shouted off to the side.
LLB dropped the microphone and walked off, leaving Paulton standing there smiling.
"He's awesome." Kayden said as the scene faded to black.
This time, Hart slipped into the ring and charged at LLB. Although he first missed, Hart turned around and kicked LLB in the side of the head with a superkick! The crowd was shocked and Hart went for a quick cover!One!
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