LIVE from the Kingdom Coliseum in Allentown, Pennsylvania, USA
Event Summary | Chapter 1
“Good evening everyone, I am Michael Decker and to my right, as always, is the ever present and ever obnoxious Alan McTaggart.”
“Hey! Watch it, Michael!”
“Ha Ha, It’s great to be here in the Kingdom Coliseum once more for a fantastic night of profession wrestling at it’s finest. Now for those of you who weren’t able to see our special broadcast a few weeks ago, IGS crowned its first ever Five Star Champion via a single elimination tournament featuring some of the biggest names in the industry along with some fantastic young talent.”
“You know Michael, my friend Phaser has a few bones to pick in regards to the refereeing of that tournament. He was jipped!”
“Oh really, did he tell you that?”
“He doesn’t need to tell me that! I’m fully capable of… uh, of…”
“Empathizing?” Decker asked with a hint of a snicker.
“Empa-What?! No! I just know a screwjob when I see one, Michael!”
“Well I think the officials did a fantastic job and it was a competitive tournament. Folks let's take a look back…. At the Five Star Spectacle...”
The words “Five Star Spectacle” flash across the screen as a video package began to play on the tron and on the screens of those watching at home.
“Some amazing technical wrestling in this match, not mention just all around athleticism and sportsmanship between Sean Warner and Chris Richards in the opening match. This match went all around ringside, and I believe all in all they were outside for nearly a count of thirty, with both Warner and Richards breaking the referee’s ten count on several occasions.” Decker commented.
Clips of Sean Warner and Chris Richards reversing numerous holds back and forth played. As well as shots of the grapplers diving into one another from the ring to the floor.
“Here it is, the final moments, Chris Richards with the, thus far, fail proof Tiger Suplex, 1.. 2..”
“That move should be illegal, I tell you!” McTaggart Interjected.
“I think it’s a fine maneuver, Alan, and the two men had a phenomenal match. Chris Richards coming away with the victory and moving on to the second round.”
A clip of Chris Richards delivering the swift jumping left knee to the chin of Max Hopper played on screen.
“Here it is the quick semi final victory that seals the fate of Max Hopper’s journey towards the Five Star Championship..”
“I don’t agree with a whole lot that Chris Richards does inside the ring, but this… this was THE most intelligent thing he’s ever done. Get in, get it done, get out… next.”
“And I don’t agree with a whole lot of your yammering, Alan, but in this case, I’ll have to make an exception. A smart move by the youngster indeed, taking out the veteran in about 9 seconds bell to bell. And now Richards gets to take a breather and prepare for the finals.”
Clips of Phaser vs David Noble play as Decker and McTaggart discuss the second semi final match.
“You know, Michael…” McTaggart began as the referee counted the pinfall. “I can’t believe you aren’t seeing the fast count right there…”
“Nothing fast about that one at all, Alan. You can spread your rumor and innuendo all you like, but that, was a clean win by David Noble. And as you can see, those ribs have taken some punishment. He’s definitely favoring them here as he calls out Chris Richards to get the final match up… underway.”
The images on the tron swirled away transitioning through various moments of the Five Star Spectacle’s finale.
“Both men pulling out all the stops, here we saw the Frog Splash off the top by Noble. I didn’t know if he had the strength to make a cover after that one. He gets the arm over Richards.. And it appeared, as many of you know, that the match was finished. But we had some slight controversy there as Richards DID manage to kick out at the last possible moment.”
“You say that now, Michael, but you wouldn’t believe me when I told you that.”
“Well, Alan, you aren’t exactly the most reliable of sources ninety-nine percent of the time..”
“And as you can see, Vern Halloway, the senior IGS referee came down and discussed the decision and we did in fact, have a restart of the final tournament bout.”
More clips of the matches second half began to cycle across the screen.
“Here it is the closing moments of the Five Star Spectacle tournament, two Tiger Suplex’s to David Noble finally give Chris Richards the decisive victory he was looking for with the 1.. 2.. 3..”
“That damned suplex!”
“A fine maneuver from the japanese trained rookie, and a fine performance from the clearly injured David Noble, who managed to hold on much longer than most, I can only assume, would have expected.”
Decker continued, as the screen turned to black and ‘Chris Richards’ scrolled onto the tron. “That was all she wrote for the Five Star Spectacle, a championship tournament for the ages… And you winner, the NEW IGS Five Star Champion… Chris Richards. What a night it was.”
“Someone oughta tell Phaser to get in touch with that lawyer the Lynch’s keep on retainer..”
“Alan, feel free to head on to the back and have a chat if you feel the need..”
“I’d love to Michael… but I feel like the ratings would plummet if I step away from the headset for more than five seconds..”
“I’m sure the ratings would be just fine,” Decker laughed as he spoke and the scene faded to the backstage area.
“Whhheerree isss heee?” Brock Metzer muttered to himself as he darted frantically around the backstage of the Kingdom Coliseum. Metzer had gotten himself unintentionally involved in a match for the evening against the gargantuan tag team, Stretch Dismember Kill, two grapplers looking to make a splash in their debut.
Brock Metzer had been in this sort of position before and knew he had friends in the business he could count on in a time of need. Finding him on his trek through time might be a completely impossible task though.
“MMMMMMMAAAAAAAXXXXXX!!!!” Brock screamed with both hands to his face cupped around his mouth to hopefully amplify the volume of his voice. The hallway seemed to extend forever in front of him and as luck would have it, it was completely devoid of any life forms.
If only Brock Metzer could stumble upon an eerie green light...
“Where is it? Where is it?” he repeated to himself as he wandered around.
Brock Metzer made his way towards the concourse of the Kingdom Coliseum and found the nearest table selling gimmicks. Even though action during IGS 3 was furious in the ring, there were still hundreds of fans trying to purchase the newest, quickest selling, most popular David Noble t-shirt.
The fans that weren't being attended to or waiting first or second in line all turned their attention to the arrival of the globally known “Independent Superstar.” Instantly Metzer was bombarded with autograph and picture requests, as many as he could oblige in a hurry, he fulfilled.
Once Metzer had made his way through the throng of people and come directly to the merchandise table he instantly stuck his arm out pointing at an item for sale.
“THAT!” Metzer insisted as politely as possible.
The part-time minimum wage employee reached up and pulled the item from the hook behind her.
Brock Metzer looked down at his sides and realized he had his wrestling tights on. “Crap! No pockets!” Brock thought out loud to himself as his head and eyes darted all around to each person surrounding him.
“Eureka!” Brock Metzer exclaimed as he realized a good 27/36ths of the people all had tin-foil hats on their heads. Metzer reached out and borrowed one, then placed it atop his own head.
“Two pee zero ..uh Eh.. no..” Brock Metzer mumbled to himself a strange string of numbers, letters and words all the while shaking his head side to side visibly frustrated. “Thhhinnk!” Brock muttered as he reached up with both hands and fiddled with his true to god- whatever God- Max Hopper fan memorabilia.
“Max, If you're there- somewhere, what's the nu-” Brock plead to only one specific Max, ‘The Sheik of Superstition,’ ‘Pro-Wrestling's Foremost Authority on the Weird and Bizarre,’ Max Hopper. It was either the cosmos time-loop supernova parallel dimension unexplainable or luck, but something worked.
“Two seven pee zero eight ee zero one eh three nine one zero in four three one you seven one nine tee eight t-”
Everything went BLACK.
Brock woke up to a hand squishing his cheeks and shaking his head from side to side. A couple of light slaps followed, which Brock tried his best to slap away, himself. Whether it was from just waking up, or from the eerie green light surrounding him, he was completely discombobulated. He stared up at his “abductor.” He could barely make out a pair of familiar green-lensed sunglasses hovering above him.
“Se- ..SeX-Ra,” Brock Metzer spoke out incoherently still in a daze from whatever had brought him here and a couple of stiff open hands.
“Hey, Guy, what are you doing here?” The sunglasses were none other than the patented SeX-Ray Specs™ of Max Hopper, who stared quizzically at the now semi-conscious “Independent Superstar” lying on the cold, reflectively polished metal floor in front of him. Brock Metzer had somehow succeeded in his mission to find the Czar of the Bizarre! “Guy, I asked you a question,” Max persisted, “what are you doing on my spaceship?”
“Yes! It worked! Uh.. wher- wherree am I?” Brock Metzer said to himself in a puzzled tone as his eyes cleared and he began to look around at the most advanced high-tech electronics bathed in an eerie green light he'd ever seen. “Sp - spaceship?” Metzer stuttered. “I’m on your... spaceship?”
“Oh, yeah, Guy!” Max jovially answered as he reached out a hand to help Metzer off of the floor. “Welcome to the Space Hopper. It can go from 0,0,0,0 to Andromeda in sixty seconds, flat! Or that’s what the brochure said. If I could only find where 0,0,0,0 is for the guys who made it…”
“..MAX!! HEY! Tonight! ..tonight I need your help. I have a match.. two real big guys! Max & Metz.. c’mon?” Brock frantically asked his long-time friend knowing he could count on him for backup.
Just like old times after all.
“You want me... to team... with you?” Max asked him. “You want Max... & Metz... in a tag team match? Is that what you're telling me?” It was clear that Max was growing deeply alarmed by the request of his longtime friend, Brock Metzer, who confirmed Max’ question with a simple and eager nod.
“Oh no, this isn't good, not good at all,” Hopper lamented. “I came here because I suspected that the timelines were converging, but this is bad, real bad! It appears they’re completely melting down!” Max was very distraught. His face gave away his worry as he stared at Brock Metzer like he was some kind of deep sea monster. “I must be in 2005... or maybe that’s where you’re from. Don’t worry guy, I’ll put you back where you belong!”
“Now let’s see, where’s that button?” Max scooted his tinfoil hat slightly off to the side so he could scratch his head. “Ah ha! There it is! Bye bye, Guy.”
Max pressed a button and…
"Hey, give me back my hat mister!"The combination of the words directed at him and having the very comfortably fitting tinfoil hat ripped from the top of his head brought Brock Metzers attention back to the crowd surrounding him. “Bu- Wha- Max?”
"What a strange individual we have up next," Michael Decker said as he turned to Alan McTaggart awaiting another one of his snide witty remarks.
"Individual?" Alan McTaggart blurted as he nearly fell out of his chair from laughter. "Three, four? How many voices does he have going on up there? That's not just one individual."
"Strange no less." Michael Decker amended his initial statement.
"Strange doesn't cut it Decker." Alan McTaggart once again corrected his broadcast partner. "TILIKUM is nut house crazy, psychotic, he needs locked back in the basement he escaped from.
"That bizarre up bringing has affected him to this day fans and now we go to the ring where Peter Greenberg is set for introductions."
The IGS fans were on their feet still pumped from a night of hard-hitting action. Peter Greenberg stood in the center of the ring with a wireless microphone. Greenberg waited for the crowd to settle down so he could be heard then he prepared himself for the introductions of the next singles contest.
"Ladies and gentlemen, up next!" Peter Greenberg began as the crowd once again began screaming drowning out his vice even over the public address speakers. Greenberg paused for a moment and then began again, "This singles match is set for one fall with a twenty minute time limit."
The lights in the building began to fade to complete darkness as a red glow became invisible eventually illuminating the entire Kingdom Coliseum. "Introducing first, from parts unknown standing six feet and three inches tall, weighing two hundred and twenty three pounds, THE KILLER OF INNOCENCE, TTTTTTTTTTTTIIIIIIIILLLLLLLLIIIIIIKKKKKKKKUUUUUUMMMMMMM!!"
The fans stared at the entrance as smoke began to flow from the stage up into the air clouding all sight. As the seconds passed by a haunting shrieking sound played out over the speakers causing nearly the entire audience to cover their ears. "What an unnerving shriek," Michael Decker commented.
"That sounds like a scream," Alan McTaggart added his own thoughts.
As seconds ticked by and turned into more than a minute, Peter Greenberg made the announcement once more. "THE KILLER OF INNOCENCE, TTTTTTTTTTTTIIIIIIIILLLLLLLLIIIIIIKKKKKKKKUUUUUUMMMMMMM!!" Peter Greenberg screamed into the microphone as once again no one emerged from the entrance through the cloud of smoke that had almost completely dissipated.
"We are awaiting the arrival of the unique grappler known as TILIKUM," Michael Decker stalled to the fans at home. "TILIKUM is known for his unique entrances."
"Michael, I'm being told we need to go to the back.." Michael Decker didn't get to finish his words.
A cameraman backstage was live with what appeared to be some sort of physical altercation. As the camera man ran closer towards the action, it became clear that TILIKUM was one of the men wielding a steel folding chair. Down on one knee in front of him was "The Colossus." TILIKUM lifted the chair high above his head once more as Spike Saunders stood back up.
The steel chair bent nearly in half as it came crashing into the massive fist of Spike Saunders who had attempted to block the second strike. TILIKUM turned his painted face to the chair in disbelief then dropped it to the ground. Spike Saunders threw a left jab at TILIKUM finally able to defend himself. TILIKUM struggled but managed to grab Saunders’ wrist with both hands catching his punch. TILIKUM jumped into the air wrapping both legs around the much larger Saunders’ arm, rolling him to the ground with an armbar.
As soon as Spike Saunders’ body slammed onto the hard concrete floor, TILIKUM released his grasp and hopped up to his feet. TILIKUM turned towards the table next to him located just behind the entrance curtains, jumped up onto it with one quick motion then back into the air and crashing down on the chest of Spike Saunders.
"What a double stomp to the chest of Da Dragon," Alan McTaggart's voice came across the air.
"Fan's we are going to cut in on this backstage fight." Michael Decker announced.
TILIKUM rolled off of Spike Saunders massive frame and back up to his feet. Saunders nearly immediately began to get back to his feet once more as he tried to shake off the impact of his opponent's offense. TILIKUM reached for an emergency fire extinguisher setting just behind the entrance and pulled it up above his head.
"What a sickening thud," Michael Decker cringed as he spoke.
"That fire extinguisher came crashing down on Spike Saunders skull, HA!" Alan McTaggart could barely contain his laughter, enjoying the violence unfolding before him. "I think I see a dent in more than the fire extinguisher."
TILIKUM tossed the weapon to the ground then bent down onto his knees grabbing Saunders by the back of the head. TILIKUM rained down hammer fists as Saunders did his best to block the shots and protect his face. TILIKUM took a pause from his assault long enough to reach down into his boot, clearly searching for something.
"Oh god no!" Michael Decker screamed into his headset. "Someone get back there, stop this man."
TILIKUM pulled a short blade wrapped in athletic tape from his boot and readjusted his grip on the sharp weapon. Spike Saunders reached up with both hands and tried to find the wrist of his opponent to stop him from the attack. TILIKUM swung his arm violently attempting to evade his opponent's own hands, then drove the knife down towards him.
"TILIKUM has that razor sharp blade carving through the soft flesh of Saunders's forehead," Alan McTaggart could barely believe his own words for once. "This could get graphic."
In an instant warm blood began to trickle down the forehead of Spike Saunders and into his eyes, filling him with rage. TILIKUM made another slow jagged slice across the forehead of Saunders which brought "Double S" up off the ground. Spike Saunders reached out and grasped the throat of TILIKUM causing him to lose his grip on the knife he'd been holding.
"Here come the goons Decker," Alan McTaggart commented on the arrival of security officials and agents backstage.
Spike Saunders closed his large hand around the neck of TILIKUM attempting to squeeze the life out of him. "Saunders just lifted TILIKUM into the air, this chokeslam is going to kill him!" Michael Decker shouted into his headset trying to somehow alert the people that had just arrived backstage.
Spike Saunders struggled to hold TILIKUM in the air with all of the bodies that had crowded around the two grapplers. TILIKUM shook his body trying to get free as agents begged Saunders to put him down. Spike lost his grip on his attacker as TILIKUM fell to the ground hitting the back of his head on the edge of the table with a thud.
"That's going to wind up a concussion." Michael Decker sounded concerned for the safety of a man not concerned for his own.
TILIKUM held the back of his head as a large group of security guards tried to keep Spike Saunders at bay. TILIKUM glared up at the much larger Saunders, his painted face and eyes the only thing visible in the dim lighting backstage.
"He's gone Decker," Alan McTaggart couldn't believe his eyes.
TILIKUM scurried away across the floor out of sight of the camera as the officials backstage all tried to calm down Spike Saunders who was still visibly shaken up. Saunders reached up and wiped the blood from his eyes and held his hand out looking at what had been done to him.
"Blood for blood then." Spike Saunders stated as he swiped the droplets of blood from his hand onto the wall next to them.
"Fan's it looks like Spike Saunders will be looking for TILIKUM," Michael Decker began but was quickly cut off by his partner.
"That's if TILIKUM doesn't find Saunders's first," Alan McTaggart had to get his two cents in.
"If TILIKUM wants to find The Colossus, he's not going to be hard to find." Michael Decker assured the spin-doctor setting next to him.
The scene switched to Amelia Mazzi backstage behind an IGS backdrop.
"Hi everyone, I'm joined by none other than Kayden Paulton!"
The crowd cheered as Kayden walked into the picture sporting a harmless smile.
"Now, Kayden, tough break last month in the 5-Star challenge when you lost to Max Hopper in one hell of a match. Max Hopper, who is no longer employed here, so I'm wondering how you're feeling..."
"Well, Amelia, first off it's nice to see you and thank you for taking the time out to interview me." Kayden started, as Amelia mouthed 'you're welcome' in return. "It was tough to see Max go; what a swell guy. Glad to see his segment still made it on this show, though. Pre-tapped stuff is awesome! Anyway, our match was a lot of fun. I also noticed some other wrestlers have left too but I just want to say IGS is a great place and everyone who's still here is having an awesome time wrestling in front of the Allentown audience."
The crowd cheered lightly at the cheap pop, knowing full well Kayden was a little too naive to actually understand he meant the comment as a way to get cheers.
"It's been tough, Amelia, seeing some of these guys go." Kayden continued. "I was looking forward to wrestling a lot of them. But you know, not everyone is gone! Tonight I'm going up against Phaser and I've heard a lot of good things. I'm just excited to get out there, in the ring and put on a show for everyone involved."
Amelia smiled and blushed a little. "Well Kayden, that's a great attitude you have."
"Thank you, Amelia. You know, opportunities are everywhere. At a house show last month we were short on talent, so I got to team with LLB in the main event and that was a great learning experience! He's a pro!"
The crowd got behind the comment and started an LLB chant.
"Well we will see him later tonight, as well." Amelia noted to the audience.
"That's great!" Kayden added. "Phaser, let's tear the house down!"
Kayden nodded into the camera and then politely smiled back at Amelia. "Thank you for the interview." He said before he walked off.
"What a loser!" McTaggart had to add before the scene went elsewhere.
"Wild International" by One Day As A Lion hit the air and out came Phaser, who stomped his way down to the ring wearing his signature aviator glasses.
Phaser rolled into the ring and walked around staring coldly to the crowd. He received only jeers in response.
The crowd gave a HUGE pop when the intro music of Kayden Paulton hit! The Nice Guy walked down to the ring smiling and waving to his fans. A woman next to ringside held out her baby with outstretched arms, to which Kayden Paulton smiled and laid a gentle kiss to the baby's forehead.
In the ring Phaser could be seen rolling his eyes and tilting his head.
"C'mon moron. Come get your beating," said Phaser.
Paulton put a reassuring hand on the woman's arm and turned to the ring. The referee made Phaser get back and give Paulton some room while Paulton stretched out his shoulders.
The bell rang and the two competitors began to circle each other before a lock up. Suddenly Phaser stopped and put his hands on his hips, and shook his head while looking at his feet.
"Where are my manners?" asked Phaser, who extended out a palm for a good natured handshake.
Paulton smiled and reached out his hand..
BOOM! Phaser pulled in Paulton absolutely leveled him with a clothesline!
"Oh shit!" yelled Phaser. "Total accident!"
Phaser held out a hand to help up Paulton, and Paulton actually accepted it...
BOOM! Phaser clotheslined Paulton right back down to the mat, and walked off toward the corner chuckling to himself. Paulton gingerly got back up to his feet while Phaser approached him passively.
"Dude, totally my bad," exasperated Phaser. "I'm being a total dick."
Phaser held out his hand with a look of sheepish guilt.
Paulton eyed it suspiciously. The crowd screamed for him not to do it... The Nice Guy finally smiled and reached out and grabbed Phaser's hand.
The hands began to shake affably!
Phaser kicked Paulton in the guy, grabbed Paulton's neck, jumped and twisted...
THE PHASE OUT!
Paulton rattled to the mat after getting hit by the jumping stunner. Phaser hooked a leg wearing a huge grin.
A microphone was tossed into the ring, which Phaser scooped up and walked back across the ring. Kayden Paulton was starting to roll to his stomach after getting hit with Phaser's signature move, The Phase Out.
"Ha!" laughed Phaser. "Get out of here, you joker."
Paulton rolled out of the ring and saw the baby he had kissed before the match. He stopped for a moment and gave the mother a hug. He whispered something to the woman, likely words of encouragement for her parenting, and then walked on his way to backstage.
The crowd booed incessently at the man left in the ring.
Phaser strutted around with a now serious look on his face and his aviator glasses back on. The sheer ridiculousness of what he had just done was no longer entertaining to him.
"What nobody has come to realize is," said Phaser. "Is that I'm fucking serious. I will use whatever method I have to do win, even if that includes taking advantage of the gullible."
"To the rest of the jokers on this roster: I do NOT fuck around! I’m coming."
Phaser dropped the mic at his side and left to "Wild International".
“It's been confirmed by Ackerman himself, tonight Stretch Dismember Kill will make their in ring debut against Brock Metzer and a partner of his choosing.” Michael Decker said as he relayed the official announcement to the iGS home viewing audience.
“That's if! If he can find a partner,” Alan McTaggart barely spit out the words through his mocking laughter.
“Max Hopper would have been the ideal choice, but a little bit of confusion..” Michael Decker began.
“A LOT of confusion Decker.” Alan McTaggart countered with an argument that held a substantial amount of validity. “That wack job Hopper is one space jump away from landing in the loony bin.”
“One fantastic in-ring wrestler nevertheless still Brock Metzer has to find a partner and I believe we have live footage of-” Michael Decker added but his focus trailed as he received word in his earpiece of a countdown laced with a profane tirade. Luckily it wasn't directed towards him. “We are going to join now, in progress, live footage of Brock Metzer on the hunt for a tag team partner.”Brock Metzer hurried through a hallway in back of the Kingdom Coliseum once more tonight. His pace had quickened and with good cause. Max Hopper and Brock Metzer together again turned into a bust, yet he still had this tag team match.
“Oooooooohhhhhh yeeeesss!!”Brock had already been through catering and with the spread Ackerman puts out it's no wonder it was a ghost town. The concourse yielded interesting yet negligible rewards. The actual room with lockers- HA!
“Theerrreee! Therree! Yes damnit, THERE!!”
Brock hadn't tried the training room or the physical therapist's room. He was already near the barely lit janitor's closet with one tv and a few dumbbells, so what the hell. Brock Metzer only had to round one corner in a small stretch of hallway before arrival.
“SOMEONE pllleeeaaassee be here..” Brocks words came out stressed as they trailed off into doubt.
Brock Metzer reached out for the handle to unlatch the door. Brock just swung the door open and stood dumbfounded. “Come onnn!” Brock said annoyed.
“HARDER! NOW DO IT HARDER!! Put your back into it!”
Brock Metzer slammed the door shut frustrated and headed for the only place he hadn't checked. Physical therapy room. Admitting you're hurts for the weak, so why would anyone be there? Wrestlers mentality.
Brock Metzer picked up his pace big time as he broke out in a sprint. Still not far from where he was, seventy five yards is seventy five yards. Brock sprinted around the final corner of the hallway and as he neared the room he came to an abrupt stop.
“Aaaaaaahhhh yyeeeesss, like thaaaaatt!!”
Brock Metzer pressed his back towards the wall, still a foot or two from the doors opening. Slowly and quietly Brock inched himself towards the opened door, the sounds of flesh on flesh hung audibly in the air with a sweaty stench.
Brock Metzer butted his shoulder directly up to the door frame and stood as upright as he could. “Breathe innnn… breathe ouuuutttt…” Brock said to himself as he slowed his breathing. Cranking his neck to the left he tried to peek into the room without being noticed.
The was no doubt the room was occupied. Two, three? How many people were in there? The dual chiropractor and massage table was wobbling on the floor, making quite the racket. With Brock's own breathing all but stopped the heavy breaths from just beyond the threshold grew so loud it drove him crazy!
“WHAT IN THE-” Brock Metzer shouted as he jumped from his hiding spot turning to land directly in the doorway.
Brock Metzers eyes grew wide and he stared in shock. This was unlike anything he'd ever seen before. It was absolutely magical. The curves. The skin tone. The perfectly flowing jet black hair. It was down right sexy.
Laying completely naked before Brock Metzer with her head turned away from him was the buxom vixen whose nickname was spot on, “Spoiled Fabulous.” The tiny little towel draped over her revealed much more the just those sexy little back dimples. Devilina was the definition of tawdry lust.
Hovering above Devilina was the physically imposing man servant at her every beckoning call, Jeeves. Still a mystery to most, he certainly had the physical gifts to make a viable partner Metzer figured. Jeeves looked up to listen as Metzer spoke.
“Hey perfect! You'll work. I got this tag team match later and I really need a partn-” Brock Metzer was cut off before he could finish.
"Listen, honey. You're cute and all, but I don't do tag teams. Tag teams just do me." Devilina hissed as she turned her head shooting a nasty glare in Brock Metzer’s direction.
“No, not you!” Brock Metzer blurted out without even catching what Devilina meant. The hypothetical gears in Brock's head came to a screeching halt as he processed that last part. “Note to self, find a tag team partner for after the shows over.” Brock said aloud grinning.
If looks could kill, Devilina would've been on death row. Brock Metzer sensed his presence was unwelcome but he was in a bind. “Sweety, we are done here, goodbye!” Devilina said with a tone of arrogance.
“Him though! He could help me against Stretch Dismember Kill.” Brock Metzer said as he pointed towards Jeeves who hadn't dared to stop his massage of Devilina. Hearing that he was the focus of Metzers intended original quandary, Jeeves opened his mouth to reply as he began to no
Devilina broke the silence first cutting off Jeeves before he could utter the first syllabal, “Listen, mother fucker. Jeeves is my man servant. Not yours. If you want one, go to The Valley and find yourself a gorgeous, jacked up moron who doesn't know how to add higher than two plus two but will do whatever the hell you say.”
Brock Metzer had begun to grow quite irritated at how far this was getting off the tracks. As Metzer let out a huge sigh he shrugged his shoulders then tried again, “But...but…”
"But nothing, boy. Get the fuck out of here so I can finish getting off." Devilina demanded with a shrill scream as she spun her head back to its original spot, completely done with this conversation.
Brock Metzer looked towards Jeeves who had returned his gaze back to Devilinas back and his task. Metzer shook his head exasperated and stepped backwards into the hallway behind him. Still without a partner for his tag team match later in the evening, panic began to show in Brock Metzers body language.
“. . . uuuggggghh!” Brock Metzer growled.
The public address system of the Kingdom Coliseum slowly rumbled to life with staccato bass notes and cadenced snare drum.. The low frequencies built up along the floor. Suddenly layers of guitar and keyboard chords burst from every speaker in the house as pyrotechnics went off in the corners of the entrance stage. The harmonic notes of "The Dance of Eternity" by Dream Theatre rang epically as the light hit the curtain. There stood Sean Warner, his head drooped downward and both arms spread wide his long blond hair hanging down in front of him..
"INTRODUCING FIRST…. From Charlotte, North Carolina.." Greenberg began his formalities, “He stands at 6’ 2” tall.. And weighs in at two hundred, twenty six pounds…”
Warner began his descent down the ramp with a smile across his face, he gave high fives and fist bumps on his way..
Warner slid into the ring and ran up the far turnbuckle. He thrusted his arms to the side once again and dropped his head, letting his blonde hair hang down and brush the turnbuckle. He jumped down with a spin and flipped his hair back once he'd landed. The referee walked over and checked him for foreign objects followed by a brief reiteration of the rules.
“Sean Warner comes out to the appreciation of this capacity crowd,” Decker began, “and deservedly so after his efforts in the Five Star Spectacle tournament First Round against Chris Richards.”
“Say what you want Michael, but a loss is a loss in my book and Richards is the man with the gold, not this wannabe rockstar.” McTaggart interjected with a chortle.
“Indeed, Chris Richards is the IGS Five Star Champion, but I believe he and Warner’s first round matchup could've gone either way.” Decker said in return.
Decker was cut off as the thundering war drums of “The Beast from the Sea” pounded the Kingdom Coliseums public address speakers and the crowd erupted with boos. The lights swirled to the rhythmic cadence and converged at the top of the ramp where Kellen stood, arms spread to the side. He was soaking it in, he loved this part.
“AND HIS OPPONENT!!” Greenberg announced, “Standing Six Feet 3 Inches tall and weighing in at TWO HUNDRED EIGHTY SEVEN POUNDS! From Oslo, Norway… he is Kellen...”
The Kraken began his confident strut down the ring ignoring the jeers of the fans behind the barricade. He ascended the steps.
“He may have been a match for Richards, but The Kraken is a different story entirely, ha ha ha!” McTaggart exclaimed as Kellen Wolff was checked by the referee.
“Warner may surprise you, Alan, as long as Kellen plays by the rules.” Decker shot back.
“You know Michael, you may wanna watch your worlds, The Kraken has mentioned you by name once before.” Alan said with a crooked smile.
The two men began circling as Decker did his usual opening schtick. “And here we go, this bout is underway.”
Warner made the first move, locking up with Wolff. The two men tried to gain advantage on the other but Kellen came out on top, shove Warner hard across the ring. But Warner didn't let that affect him as he nipped right back to his feet.
“Kellen showing off his physical strength but Warner showing off his experience and composure in the squared circle.” Decker called out.
Wolff looked annoyed by Warner's quick recovery as he began pacing around the ring. Kellen came in for the lock up this go round and slid behind Warner throwing his forearm into Warner's lower back.
“Oh what a shot to the kidneys from The Kraken, Warner is down to a knee.” Decker started, “the referee should be all over Kellen for that.”
“Don't be so biased, Michael! The man didn't aim that forearm he just threw it!” McTaggart came back in Wolff’s defense.
Kellen backed away from Warner, measuring his opponent. As Warner stood Kellen was on the move running full force at Warner from across the ring. Warner tried to sidestep the big man’s tackle but didn't quite get out of the way in time. Warner twisted sideways as he fell and clutched at his ankle as Kellen stood back up.
“Warner took a little too long getting out of the way there, he may have sustained an injury to that ankle.” Decker noted.
Kellen closed in smelling the opportunity. He reached down for Warner and deadlifting him to his chest.
“Some sort of Powerslam! No!” Decker stopped himself short as Warner began to fire elbows into the side of Kellen’s head. “Warner not ready to give in quite yet.”
The Kraken’s head shook as he maintained hold of Warner, but Sean continued to pound away. Finally after three more elbows Wolff let Warner back down on to his feet.
“I think he stunned him! I don't believe it! I think he's stunned me!” McTaggart said in awe as Warner dropped to his feet.
Warner hobbled to the ropes as the big man tried to shake off the effect of the elbows Sean had thrown. Warner came flying off the ropes in a semi skip, slide through Kellen's legs as Wolff reached for a body part to hang on to. Warner was up on a flash, he leapt up onto Kellen's back and applied a sleeper hold.
“Wear down hold on the big man, Warner giving The Kraken a lesson in Wrestling 1-0-1! Ha ha!” Decker cried out.
Kellen pried at Warner's arms but the hold was locked in. Warner squeezed a little more as Kellen walked around the ring, still attempting to brute force Warner's arms from around his head. Warner wrapped his legs around the big man’s waist and applied all the pressure he could muster sending The Kraken down to a knee.
The referee peered in at the hold and checked for a choke, he found nothing and let the hold continue. Kellen looked dazed as Warner maintained the sleeper and body scissor. Kellen reached out for the ropes but he wasn't quite within reach.
“See, Alan, I told you you might be surp.. OH MY!”
Just as Decker got the words out Kellen grabbed Warner's ankle and squeezed. Warner released and fell backward to the canvas.
“See, Michael, I told you I wouldn't be surprised! Hee Hee! The Kraken’s no dummy!” McTaggart chimed in supporting the big man’s awareness.
The Kraken made his way to his feet, still clutching at his head and throat, Warner was slow to put pressure on the ankle but managed to make it up as well. Kellen turned and reacted as he saw Warner get to his feet. He crouched and spun. He swept the leg.
Warner dropped to the mat as Kellen held his arms out accepting the disapproval of the IGS fans. He turned back to Warner and gave the ankle a stiff stomp. Warner writhed in pain, his face twisted and the boos from the audience grew louder.
“I don't know if I can agree with this, Alan, seems to me we should get a stoppage here.”
“Can't take the heat stay out of the kitchen, can't handle a little pain, stay out of the ring. Hee Hee!” McTaggart shouted into his headset with a sinister amount of glee in his voice.
The referee backed Kellen to a neutral corner and checked on Warner, who refused any medical attention and insisted the match continue. The ref nodded and began the customary ten count.
“Warner looking to finish this,” Decker said as the crowd began to get behind Warner.
YOU CAN DO IT
Clap Clap Clap
Warner got a seated position and slid himself backward into the corner.
“You know, Alan, I'm not sure how I feel about Warner continuing this match, but I've got to go with the referee’s decisions.”
“Warner is a fool if he continues this one, Michael. He'll end up with a permanent disability!”
Warner grabbed a hold of top rope and slung himself to his feet, wincing as he placed a portion of his weight on the ankle in question.
The referee stopped the count as a wide grin crossed the face of Kellen Wolff who was rubbing his hands together in the opposite corner.
Warner limped out to a cheer from the crowd, his hands raised in a defensive position. Kellen clapped slowly as Warner reached the center of the ring. Wolff walked a few steps out and stopped to throw his fists into the air, a chorus of boos meeting him.
“The Kraken proud of his handy work it seems.” Decker said flatly as he looked on unamused.
“Hey, Warner had his chance to stop this, Michael,” said McTaggart with a hint of disdain for his broadcast partner.
Wolff held his arms out to the side once again doing a little turn as he soaked in the boos… that was a mistake. Warner took the only opportunity he could see himself getting and ran with it. Sean leapt off his good leg and caught The Kraken round the neck by surprise, slamming the Norwegian to the canvas.
“WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT! WARNER WITH SOME KIND OF MODIFIED SLINGBLADE VARIATION! YOU MIGHT EVEN CALL IT A KAISER BLADE!!” Decker yelled in shock and excitement.
“What… the..” McTaggart when on but his microphone cut out for a moment.
Warner and Kellen lay in the middle of the ring, Warner landed on top so the ref began a count.
The referee stopped the count short as Kellen got his shoulders up. Warner tried to stand but his ankle gave out on him. Kellen sat up, his face quivered in an angry sneer. It was on now.
“I believe that was the closest thing Kellen Wolff has seen to a loss during his whole in ring career. He doesn't look very happy about it either.” Decker said with a slight chuckle.
Kellen pounded a fist to the mat and got up to his feet, he turned his eyes to Warner who was again trying to stand. Kellen snatched Warner by the hair. The referee pointed a finger a told Kellen to watch the hair, but Wolff didn't listen as the ref began his five count.
Wolff wasn't dumb, he didn't let the count get past three before pressing Warner over his head. He dropped him to his shoulder and slammed him to the mat.
“Big Powerslam to Warner, I think it might be over now!” Decker exclaimed.
The ref counted.
Kellen lifted Warner's body by the hair, shook his head and waved a finger at the crowd.
“....” Decker didn't know what to say.
The Kraken turned Warner to his stomach and snatched the injured ankle high into the air. Warner’s face distorted in pain. For a moment it looked as though Warner was going to make an attempt for the ropes, but The Kraken was locked in place forcing Warner to tap.
The ref hopped to his feet and called for the bell. He turned back and his mouth gaped open. Kellen was still holding on. The ref ran over and shouted at The Kraken to release the hold.
“This is ridiculous!” Decker burst out in a shout. “What is he doing! He'll break his damn ankle!!”
Alan McTaggart sat quietly in his chair, he kept his mouth shut on this one.
A group of security personnel and officials ran down to the ring, as Wolff continued to wrench the submission. They security personnel surrounded the ring and Kellen dropped Warner as he released the hold and he turned his attention to ringside. Kellen snarled and turned. He stepped through the ropes and hopped down to from the ring apron. He feinted at a guard, the guard flinched, Kellen grinned and began descending the ramp with the security team surrounding him as medical staff and officials attended to Warner in the ring. Kellen turned and walked backward up the ramp, lifting his arms to the side as the crowd booed him. Security held back fans at the sides of the ramp as Kellen stepped through the curtain and the scene faded to a commercial break.
CRASH! As IGS 3 returned from commercial break the frame was filled by a familiar door. A familiar placard. A familiar name.
CRASH! The familiar door shook. The familiar placard loosened.
CRASH! The familiar door shook again. The familiar placard fell to the floor with a CLACK.
CRASH! The familiar door slammed open.
The familiar door was replaced with the familiar massive frame of "The Kraken", Kellen Wolff.
A familiar sneer adorned the familiar face. Kellen shoved the camera and the cameraman backward and out of his way. As The Kraken left, the camera refocused on the familiar office.
Papers were everywhere. A few steel filing cabinets were in a corner, dented. The familiar desk was broken in half. The familiar desk chair lay in broken pieces. Familiar pictures strown from corner to corner. The familiar office was in pieces, but it's familiar owner was no where to be seen.
The camera cut back to the ringside camera. Alan McTaggart and Michael Decker raised their heads and broke their gazes away from their monitors.
"That's a very big.. very mad fella, Michael."
"Indeed it is, Alan. The Kraken seems to be on the hunt, a warpath if you will, for IGS General Manager, John Ackerman. Ackerman, if you recall, told Kellen Wollf.."
"Uh Huh.. Akerman told Kellen Wolff that if he defeated Sean Warner tonight he would be introduced into the IGS World Championship picture. And as we saw, The Kraken was victorious in his match, and now Ackerman -- it seems -- is no where to be found."
Brock Metzer certainly hoped the old adage would hold true as he was still in search of a tag team partner. iGS 3 was beginning to wind down and before the event ended Metzer was expected in the ring to wrestle Stretch Dismember Kill. After their attack on Metzer post-match last week and the confrontation earlier in the night, Brock wanted his comeuppance.
As Brock Metzer sulked through the hallway in back of the Kingdom Coliseum, he longed for the days when his old pal Max Hoppers only detrimental quirk was his aptitude to lose personal belongings. “Don’t worry guy, I’ll put you back where you belong!” Brock Metzer repeated the words he'd heard earlier before he was beamed off a friggin’ spaceship. The Space Hopper no less.
Brock Metzer made his way towards an inconspicuous backstage exit that would eventually lead up to the concourse. He'd already checked there once and ended up having an encounter of the fourth kind. Metzer came to the door he'd been heading towards and entered finding very few of the iGS fans in sight.
Brock Metzer began to make his way around, not sure who, if anyone he would find. As Brock continued around the building passing desolate concession stands and gimmick tables, he thought about what Devilina had said earlier. Brock considered asking one of the building employees if he'd want to tag up, maybe even skip the match. “Sweet, curvy, golden, ass- MY GOD!” Brock Metzer mumbled to himself as he had to take a deep breath to calm the visual images in his head.
Brock Metzer neared the fan entrance of the Kingdom Coliseum where a couple of employees responsible for taking tickets stood around talking. None looked like they'd be anything more than an hindrance as a partner, which caused Metzer much frustration. Brock stopped near the turnstiles contemplating his next destination, beginning to become annoyed by the public speaking outside the building.
“Those damn parent teachers council twits,” Brock Metzer said annoyed. The shouting outside the building was amplified by the megaphone, making it clear to hear everything being said. Both of Brock's eyebrows perked up as he began to pay closer attention.
“Fracking pollutes our clean fresh crisp air, it is a practice that must stop.”
Brock Metzer squinted to try and see further out onto the lawn, but whoever was speaking was simply too far away to see. Metzer rushed through the front doors and down the stairs in front of the building as he heard more of the public diatribe. Metzer recognized the voice.
“Pollution is causing disease, birth defects, contaminated water supply, and the unnecessary death of millions of Americans.”
Brock Metzer sprinted down the extra spacious concrete walkway that led from the street all the way up to the building. Brock hadn't taken the time to notice before, but as he neared ‘The Liberal,” he realized there were only three people gathered around. Metzer reached his most recent opponent in the ring just as he went on another tirade.
“Millions of deaths or just one, a life is a life. On the streets here in Philadelphia the young and the old are gunned down daily. This MUST stop.” Larry Agenda plead passionately.
Brock Metzer nodded along impatiently waiting for his chance to speak as he noticed not even one of the three were still around. In fact, no one was even listening to “The Liberal” Larry Agenda as he stood out in front of the Kingdom Coliseum.
“Fantastic speech.. so moving, so motivational,” Brock Metzer did his best to seem genuine through the urge to give Agenda a DDT right where he stood.
“Then go, be motivated, spread the message that tax breaks and bailouts for big businesses is in fact fraud of the American people. Corporate corruption by our elected officials must end.” Larry Agenda said with meaning and purpose.
“That's it! Ackerman is a corrupt big businessman,” Brock Metzer began as he prepared to weave together some pitch that might motivate Larry Agenda into teaming with him tonight. “He's a corrupt corporate executive who has thrust me into a match against a tag team.”
“Ackerman’s corrupt you say?” Larry Agenda only caught what he wanted to hear.
“The most! He's forced me into a two-on-one situation, it's why I came looking for you.” Brock Metzer searched for the right words, even if not all were true. “You are a sure winner. You won last week, against me. I know how good you are. The youth of today, need a role model. Someone who stands up in the face of violence, defends himself honorably.”
“To set an example, to make a change.” Larry Agenda had begun to follow along with what Brock Metzer was saying. “Sometimes you have to use violence, to ultimately rid the world of violence.”
“It gets worse! Stretch Dismember Kill, big time frackers. Polluting this entire beautiful precious planet!” Brock Metzer had no idea if what he was saying had any truth to it at all by this point, but he was doing what he had to do. “Maeda is from Japan and the whole country stopped using Nuclear energy, now they are fracking. Lusus from Alabama, MASSIVE fracking state!”
“That's it! Tonight.. I need a partner. I'm going to challenge those two violent environmentally unfriendly bullies to a match.” Larry Agenda declared his intentions with a boat load of conviction. “Truth is, I don't care if that corrupt Ackerman likes it or not.”
“Brilli-” Brock Metzer began but was instantly interrupted.
“I'm going to need a partner and even though you weren't good enough to beat me last week,” Larry Agenda boasted with a smug demeanor. “I'm going to give you the opportunity to go back out there and prove yourself. You must want a second chance.”
Brock Metzer already knew what the answer needed to be yet he didn't reply right away. His hesitation in answering was due to his astonishment that his masterful proposal had worked so magnificently. “I don't just want one, I need one.”
“Everyone needs something.” Larry Agenda stated as he pointed directly to himself. “I need you to get ready, we have a match! The Liberal needs to teach Stretch Dismember Kill a new, cleaner, safer way to live.”
Brock Metzer nodded in agreement as he turned back towards the entrance of the Kingdom Coliseum, Larry Agenda right next to him. Brock looked a bit more at ease then anytime earlier in the night. Finally someone, even if it was Larry Agenda, had agreed to be his tag team partner.
Brock Metzer had only one more thing on the Agenda, getting his name back in the winners column.
"It's finally here Decker," Alan McTaggart proclaimed with jubilance.
"What are you babbling about McTaggart?" Michael Decker asked, not knowing what his partner seemed so excited over.
"The domination of the International Grappling Society's Tag Team Division Michael. The two most feared monsters from the 'Land of the Rising Sun' are finally here in Allentown Pennsylvania." Alan McTaggart sang the praises of a team the iGS fans had come to know as Stretch Dismember Kill.
"Requiem for a Dream" composed by Clint Mansell and performed by the Kronos Quartet erupted through the public announce system speakers timed perfectly to Alan McTaggart's mention of the impending arrival of S.D.K. Many of the fans who were attending iGS 3 knew of the forthcoming duo and already had developed negative feelings for the two.
As the drawn out haunting symphonic melodies continued to beat through the building, the boo's and hate filled remarks from the fans grew louder. Still yet, they could not drown out the chilling rhythm that continued to torment their psyche. The lights in the building grew dim and a flood of criss-crossing and swirling lights spotlighted the entrance ramp as a waving Japanese flag was displayed on the screen above.
With his massive chest heaving in and out, "The Behemoth Brute" made his way out onto the entrance first, shouting and seemingly growling at the crowd. His massive stature struck fear into those closest to him, his veracious intensity turned said fear into instant panic. The black mask that he wore was adorned with red and white material to match his modified singlet, the same outfit he'd always worn, this time with a brand new design.
Stalking behind with a stern expression on his face and a cold as ice demeanor was the "Namahage Colossus." For as massive as his partner was, the three time former Global Pro Wrestling World Heavyweight Champion looked even bigger. The extra three or four inches of height played tricks on the mind, making the lighter man look bigger just based on height alone. As his partner continued to agitate the audience, he remained focused and emotionless.
"Introducing first weighing in at a total combined weight of eight-hundred and seven pounds, THE BEHEEEEMMOOUUUTTHH BBRRRUUUTEEEE LLLLLUUUUSSSSSUUUUSSSS and his partner THE KKUUUUOOOOOFFFFUUUU AAAAAAKKKKUUUUMMMMUUUU YOOOOOSSSHIIITTTTAAAAKKKKAAAA MMMAAAAEEEEDDDAAAA, the tag team known as STRETCH DISMEMBER KILL!!" Peter Greenberg announced to those in attendance at home as the two men had finally made it down the aisle and climbed into the ring. Lusus ran from one side of the ring to the other, bouncing off the ropes with full force, over and over. Yoshitaka Maeda stretched his neck, back, arms, and wrists while standing in the corner of the ring his eyes locked on the entrance ramp awaiting the arrival of the team that'd be known throughout history as his first victim on American soil.
As the team of Stretch Dismember Kill continued their warm up in the ring the fans began to turn their attention back towards the entrance stage. "Challenging these two gigantic men in the ring will be two men who are no strangers to being in a ring together." Michael Decker commented referring to the recent history between the opponents of Lusus and Maeda.
"Right you are Decker but these two men have been opposing each other for the past two weeks, how can they possibly work together tonight?" Alan McTaggart questioned the decision these two made to team up.
"No one else wanted any part of this match Alan." Michael Decker responded to his partner.
"For good reason, look at the size of these two men." Alan McTaggart made reference to how physically imposing the team of Stretch Dismember Kill were.
Hey what would it mean to you?To know that it'll come back around againHey whatever it means to youKnow that everything moves in circles
The lights in the Kingdom Coliseum faded until they were just barely lit. Blue and purple strobes of light emitted from the stage and the rigging above the ring. Flashes of red light bathed the audience in a show of color that beat rhythmically with the lyrics to "Circles" by Incubus which continued to play over the speakers as the crowd jammed along.
I saw you standing in my headlights Blink blink blinkI thought I'd run you down for the weight you left on meBut then I pressed rewind, reversed and drove awayAnd see you, disappear in my rear viewBrought me to the word reciprocity
One last flash of red light blinded the audience temporarily and when their vision returned they could all see the "Independent Superstar" standing on the stage. The fans roared cheering the long-time fan favorite as he spoke directly into the camera in front of him on the entrance stage. "I'm bout to cut these two big goofs down to my size," Brock Metzer proclaimed.
Brock Metzer made his way down the aisle as fans crowded the barricade trying to reach over and touch the popular grappler. The number of Brock Metzer t-shirts in the crowd had continued to grow from week to week as the support for the once main event level performer was picking back up. Metzer slapped the hands of fans standing along the entrance ramp as he made his way down the aisle.
"Making his way to the ring next, the first member of the opposing team in the impending tag team contest, weighing in at two hundred and thirty nine pounds and standing six feet and four inches tall, THE INDEPENDENT SUUUUPPEERRRSTARR BBBRRRROOOOCCCKK MEEEETZEEERR!!" Peter Greenberg had to shout into the microphone to be heard over the cheers that'd flooded the entire Coliseum.
As Brock Metzer came to ringside he stopped and stood outside near the ring steps and waited for the entrance of his partner. "Now that Metzer's out here on his own I'd just stay in the back if I were Larry Agenda," Alan McTaggart gave unintended insight into his own cowardice with his comments.
The sounds of Incubus gave way to The Bloodhound Gang as "The Bad Touch" began to play and for the first time since appearing on International Grappling Society television, Larry Agenda who'd yet to appear was set to be met with half-hearted cheers. Brock Metzer peered back towards the entrance ramp anxiously awaiting the arrival of his partner for this match, rightfully a tad-bit skeptical if he'd show or not.
Out from behind the curtain and onto the entrance stage came Larry Agenda, his man-bun still perfectly in place and still not a favorite amongst the Philadelphia crowd. Larry Agenda stood with a smile stretched across his face as the fans were cheering his arrival. For him, this must've felt different.
"And his partner, weighing two hundred and thirty two pounds and standing six feet and three inches tall, THE LIBERALLLLLLL LLAARRRRYYYYYYY AAAAGEEEEEEENNDAAAA!!" Peter Greenberg announced to the crowd with a tinge of excitement in his voice. The abnormal reaction from the crowd had created a unique atmosphere in the Kingdom Coliseum for the night. Larry Agenda made his way down the aisle and came to a stop directly next to Brock Metzer. The two men looked at each other showing no signs of tensions stemming from the past two weeks singles encounters. "Let's go!" was the war cry from Metzer as the two men slid into the ring under the bottom ropes.
iGS Official Wilbur Wilson had no desire to leave his lovely wife at home a widow and didn't bother with general rules and in-ring instructions. Wilson called for the bell at ringside then got the hell out of the way and for good reason. Once in the ring, Agenda and Metzer rolled up to their feet and took off sprinting towards their opponents. Lusus and Maeda both went for a lariat at the same time but neither connected as Agenda and Metzer ducked each attempt and rebounded off the ropes once more.
"Both Metzer and Agenda showing their speed ducking a second set of attempted lariats by the two giants," Michael Decker said.
"Sooner or later these two little runts will get caught Decker," Alan McTaggart assured his colleague.
After ducking a second set of lariats Metzer and Agenda once again came sprinting towards Lusus and Maeda, this time leaping in the air and hitting stereo dropkicks on the big men. Both Lusus and Maeda staggered back towards the ring ropes but never left their feet. Metzer and Agenda came back to an upright position at just the wrong time.
"What a devastating set of body avalanche splashes by Stretch Dismember Kill," Michael Decker's words came out with a tinge of worry attached to them.
"The way those two crumpled to the canvas it's as if they simply wilted away to nothing, beautiful!" Alan McTaggart rejoiced in the violence.
iGS official Wilbur Wilson looked completely overwhelmed by the double team action he had no chance of stopping, the fans loved the carnage though. Lusus lifted Larry Agenda up to his feet and slung him towards a corner of the ring then charged in at him with a chest crushing corner lariat. Maeda stood with both of his feet planted firmly on the abdomen of Metzer, pressing both hands down on the top rope for extra leverage.
"No pew-knee uh-merry-can survive," Yoshitaka Maeda growled at the crowd who booed and cursed back at him.
Lusus hoisted Larry Agenda up for a gorilla press slam and tossed him all the way to the arena floor, his body made a sickening thud as it smacked the concrete below. iGS official Wilbur Wilson sprinted towards the ring ropes and peered down at Larry Agenda to see if he was moving or alive. Lusus stepped out through the ring ropes and onto the apron as the fans sitting ringside stood from their seats and moved back.
"The fans can call this one better then we can due to broadcast television's oh so wonderful standards and practices," Michael Decker said.
"That crushing elbow drop by Lusus off the ring apron left Agenda nothing but a flattened mess on the floor Decker. There's nothing left of him!" Alan McTaggart seemed overjoyed by what was taking place.
Inside the ring the official had turned his attention back to Maeda who had climbed off of his opponent and now had him locked in a bridging version of the Kushwah Armbar that one of his trainers had made famous during the 1980s. Maeda arched his back as high as possible for a man of his size, causing tremendous ligament damage to the shoulder of Brock Metzer as the referee checked on him.
"You okay, do you want to keep going? Save it for another night if you need to Brock," iGS official Wilbur Wilson tried to plead with the grappler who was in audible agony. Brock Metzer was not a quitter though and he wiggled and jiggled and wormed his body until he could lift a leg towards the ropes and force the break.
Yoshitaka Maeda obliged once the rope break count reached four and he backed momentarily away from his opponent. Maeda stood stalking Metzer who was struggling to get to his feet, the fans were shouting words of warning but all fell on deaf ears. Just as Brock Metzer got upright, Meada wrapped his massive arms around him grasping at his wrists locking him in a standing chicken-wing submission.
"HEAD DROP!" Alan McTaggart squealed.
"The grotesque angle in which Metzer's neck met the canvas from that chicken-wing german suplex will leave a lasting ache for years to come." Michael Decker assumed.
"Hey, c'mon just pin him... he's out," iGS official Wilbur Wilson plead with Yoshitaka Maeda as he knelt next to his battered opponent grasping a hand full of his hair after just purposely breaking his own pinfall count. Maeda looked down at his side with anger as Larry Agenda who'd just been tossed into the ring unwillingly had landed directly beside him. Lusus climbed into the ring to join his partner and both men hoisted Brock Metzer to his feet and took alternating turns clobbering him in the head and body with powerful haymaker punches.
As Metzer nearly fell to the canvas he was caught by Lusus who wrapped his arms around his waist and lifted him into the air and onto his shoulder. Lusus charged towards the corner with Metzer flailing helplessly and sandwiched him front first into the corner leaving him hanging draped over the turnbuckle padding.
"Sizing him up once more and he's charging," Michael Decker's words conveyed the cringe on his face as he prepared for the impact.
"That's it, he's out! Bring the paramedics." Alan McTaggart mocked Brock Metzer as his head bobbed back and forth from the impact of the running corner knee strike by Lusus.
Larry Agenda had managed to regain some semblance of wherewithal and got himself into a standing position in the ring. Seeing what had just happened to the tag team partner that came asking him for help, he'd decided enough was enough. "Live to fight another day," Agenda quietly and slyly quipped to the crowd ringside that were paying attention to him. Larry Agenda began to backpedal away from the scene that was looking more like a two man extermination then a wrestling contest.
"Uh-uh, no! You not run from me!" Yoshitaka Maeda snarled at Larry Agenda who had just backed directly into him. Maeda wasted no time in making Agenda pay and he unleashed a violent and sudden wrist-clutch exploder suplex that lead to the crowd once again breaking out in unison.
As Larry Agenda's body landed in a folded mess momentum caused him to roll directly to his feet which was mighty unlucky for him. Lusus was waiting with open arms and with one quick burst he spun Agenda around grasping him by the wrist and pulling him abruptly into a nearly decapitating short-arm lariat.
RANDOM ACT OF VIOLENCE!
Yoshitaka Maeda had backed himself into the corner that Brock Metzer had previously laid lifeless over. Maeda kicked Metzer from his prone position on the canvas out to the arena floor then waited for his partner to prop Agenda up in the corner on the opposite side of the ring. Yoshitaka Maeda charged.
"GOZU!" Michael Decker screamed the name of the running corner back elbow smash that nearly crushed Larry Agenda.
"MEZU!" Alan McTaggart barely was able to spit out the name while trying to keep up with the rapid fire offense of the surprisingly quick Yoshitaka Maeda as he caved in the side of Agenda's head with the corner counter strike enzuigiri.
"Holy mother of-" Michael Decker nearly shouted trying to warn Larry Agenda to move.
"Look at the speed in which Lusus just scaled that turnbuckle." Alan McTaggart was actually impressed with what he'd seen.
"IMMINENT DEATH!" Michael Decker meant every word he screamed.
Lusus leapt off the top rope and came crashing down on Larry Agenda with a double foot stomp that was four big moves beyond what he and Maeda ever needed to finish off their opponents. Larry Agenda lay sprawled out in the center of the ring without moving. Yoshitaka Maeda stood over top of Larry rotating and stretching his own wrists as his partner showed off his massive biceps to the audience while shouting the same word over and over.
"Stretch! Stretch! Stretch!" Lusus' words were less instruction and more psychological torment.
Yoshitaka Maeda rolled Larry Agenda to his stomach then grasped at each of his wrists crossing Larry's arms just under his chin. Meada sat down on the lower back of Agenda and pulled back as hard as he could lifting the chest of his opponent high off the canvas. The seemingly unconscious Larry Agenda's eyelids parted and gave way to blood shot bulging eyes. Agony contorted Larry Agenda's face as Meada sat back further.
"TSUNO O TAMETE USHI O KOROSU!" Michael Decker struggled to get out the name of Yoshitaka Maeda feared and revered seated straight jacket japanese stranglehold that had earned him multiple accolades.
"The same hold that earned Maeda the Global Pro Wrestling World Heavyweight Championship on three separate occasions," Alan McTaggart cockily referenced his vast knowledge.
iGS official Wilbur Wilson had finally seen enough and tried furiously to wedge his hands in between the grip Meada had on Agenda. "Break.. break.. break the hold, it's over." Wilson hurried back to his feet and over towards the ropes closest to the timekeeper and the official responsible for ringing the bell, screaming for them to signal the end of the action.
Lusus circled around Maeda and blocked the official from coming any closer as the fans began to boo louder than anytime previous in the match. This lopsided affair had ended officially but the maiming was yet to cease. Meada wrenched back with a violent lunge and a nasty popping noise cut through the mind numbingly loud mixed chatter and boo's of the crowd.
"Good! Done!" Yoshitaka Maeda snarled as he stood up releasing his dreaded submission hold and grasp of the limp body of Larry Agenda. Meada moved closer to his partner Lusus and the two turned towards the crowd, feigning the hand gesture for breaking something in half.
"Ladies and gentlemen your winners of this match, by submission, THE BEHEEEEMMOOUUUTTHH BBRRRUUUTEEEE LLLLLUUUUSSSSSUUUUSSSS and his partner THE KKUUUUOOOOOFFFFUUUU AAAAAAKKKKUUUUMMMMUUUU YOOOOOSSSHIIITTTTAAAAKKKKAAAA MMMAAAAEEEEDDDAAAA, they are STRETCH DISMEMBER KILL!!" Peter Greenberg announced the outcome to the audience as iGS official Wilbur Wilson held his arms crossed above his head, hands closed in a fist displaying an 'x' to the backstage.
Twenty-thousand fans who had packed into the Kingdom Coliseum had all went completely silent as a flood of iGS officials came rushing down the entrance way. Road agents and extra referee's cleared a path for paramedics pushing a gurney as the entire group neared the ring.
"This type of thing is not what we pride ourselves on here in International Grappling Society." Michael Decker assured the home audience.
"It's a sign of things to come Decker," Alan McTaggart predicted.
Lusus and Yoshitaka Maeda climbed from the ring directly down into the center of the crowd sent to aide Larry Agenda. The group scattered away from Stretch Dismember Kill in all directions, hoping none would be caught in the path of destruction that had begun. Lusus and Maeda turned back towards the ring and studied their work before nodding approvingly to each other and heading towards the back.
Inside the ring Larry Agenda continued to lay motionless as iGS officials and road agents helped the paramedics slide a straight-board into the ring. Working carefully not to jostle Larry Agenda around to abruptly, the paramedics wedged the board under him then strapped him in securely. The group worked together to get Agenda out of the ring and positioned onto the stretcher waiting ringside.
"Fan's we hate to see something like this happen to any one of our grapplers here, we don't know how serious any injury is that Larry Agenda might have sustained at the hands of the duo known as Stretch Dismember Kill." Michael Decker tried to alleviate any concern but it did no good.
"Aptly named Decker, aptly named," Alan McTaggart's words held no remorse or empathy.
"As the night progresses we will try to give you updates on Larry Agenda's condition. If we haven't heard anything before our broadcast ends, keep checking the International Grappling Society's homepage for updates," Michael Decker continued.
"Move on Decker, Agenda's old news now. It's retirement home for him and we still have more action to cover," Alan McTaggart's ADHD had gotten the best of him and not a moment too soon.
"LLB! LLB! LLB!" The fans began to chant.
"Jeeves! Get your ass over here!"
Devilina was irate. She paced around the backstage area as if she was looking for something, maybe even someone. Jeeves came running from around the corner. He was about to open his mouth, but he was cut off by the shrill sound of Devilinas angry voice.
"Where the FUCK is Steve Solex?! How am I supposed to challenge him to a match for next week if he ISN'T EVEN HERE!" Jeeves just shook his head, knowing Devilina wasn't nearly finished ranting. "He's been talking all that good shit on social media the last few weeks about me, about how he had the flu and wasn't 100% when I made him look like shit on television, telling everyone I don't deserve to be here and how I just got to here because I can flaunt daddy's checkbook around and get whatever I want!"
Once again Jeeves opened his mouth to speak, but his first word was cut off yet again by his employer, "Who does he think he is? He hasn't done SHIT in life, he has no right to try to demean me! I mean, if I was beat up by a girl, I guess I would be singing that same tune. But, still. He insulted me. He needs to DIE!"
Devilina flipped one of the catering tables over and let out a very loud shriek. Whomever was around the table at the time of the shriek quickly found somewhere else to be, they didn't want to be around the crazy bitch. A production assistant came up to Devilina, and put his hand on her shoulder to calm her down. "Devilina, you gotta calm down! A lot of people haven't shown up today. We can't afford to be wasting all this food! Our budget isn't near what it used to..."
Before he even had a chance to finish his sentence, Devilina hit him with a forearm to the side of the jaw and threw him into the pile of spilled food and drink on the ground. "Don't you DARE put your gross hands on me! JEEVES! WIPE MY FACE OFF!" Jeeves came running with a towel to wipe off the bits of food and drink off of his master's face. "Jeeves, we are leaving! Go get my fucking gear!" The camera changed as Jeeves scurried off camera towards the locker room.
As the commercial break dissolved and the Kingdom Coliseum video feed returned, Michael Decker and Alan McTaggart once again fill the camera’s frame at the commentary booth. Both men appear slightly uneasy about the night’s progression, but as they notice they’ve returned to the live feed they sit up and put their game faces on.
“Well, ladies and gentlemen, we have certainly experienced some strange occurrences this evening wouldn’t you say, Alan?”
“You can say that again, Mike….” Alan responded in a uneasy voice. “It’s like IGS has been slowly turning upside down!”
“There are definitely some issues going on that Mr. Ackerman will no doubt address in the coming weeks. But right now, “ Decker’s voice suddenly burst with excitement, “We have the underdog match of the century!”
“That’s right, Michael! We’ve got the greatest IGS Tag Team Champions of all time taking on two nobodies! Hahaha!” McTaggart said with a wide grin.
“Alan, they’re the only IGS Tag Team Champions of all time.. And don’t count out Showtime’s All-Stars, that Kendrick Matters definitely has some talent in the ring.” Decker answered back. “Speaking of the ring, let’s go to Peter now and get this Main Event under way.”
“The following contest is scheduled for one fall and is for.. The I G S Tag Team CHAMPIONSHIPS! Entering first, at a combined weight of 407 pounds. From the Buddy Showtime Conservatory of Violent Arts in Scenic, Downtown Allentown Pennsylvania. Classes forming now, call today.”
A phone number appears on screen briefly.
“Make your dreams a reality, that’s the Showtime Guarantee. Please welcome the Buddy Showtime All-Stars featuring ..”
Who charged out of the gate with his cape fluttering behind him. The black Showtime Conservatory nylon windbreaker making him look weirdly coordinated. The only parts of him not black were his hands, parts of his face and the gold-and-silver B/S logo.
“AND … KENDRICK MATTERS”
The music shifted to the minor-key horns of “Last Breath” by Future as Kendrick shouldered through the backstage curtains rip-snorting to go. And he got five steps through the curtain before he turned around.
Buddy Showtime stepped through the curtains holding a black windbreaker. Kendrick turned back and shrugged into the garment before making his way back to the ring in a somewhat more subdued fashion.
The Night showboated on the turnbuckle and Buddy worked the crowd from the mats outside the ring, but Kendrick stood in his team’s corner, breathing slowly and evenly with his eyes focused on the entrance gate.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, I have been instructed to read the following announcement..”
Peter Greenberg cleared his throat has he produced a small index card from his inner jacket pocket.
“Introducing now.. The greatest tag team champions in the HISTORY of Professional Wrestling Revolution. Hailing from Dallas, Texas. They are the fast rising stars in IGS History… the highest drawing attraction in sports entertainment… the most recognizable athletes in all the world.. the living examples of legendary accomplishment.. The Whole Enchilada.. The Grand Poobahs of In Ring Aptitude… THEY ARE….”
Uh, uh-huh, yeahUh, uh-huh, yeah (It’s all about the benjamins)
“THE LYNCH…. CONSOOOOOORTIUM!”
Now, what y'all wanna do?Wanna be ballers? Shot-callers? Brawlers?Who be dippin' in the Benz wit the spoilersOn the low from the Jake in the TaurusTryin' to get my hands on some Grants like Horace
Jameson and Grayson Lynch stepped through the curtain, their arms high in the air, phones in one hand, belts in the other. The two took a moment for a dual selfie as the crowd erupted with boos. As they began to walk toward the ring, Jameson looked down to send a text message as Grayson took a selfie with the booing fans behind him, his middle finger in the air.
Jameson stopped at the bottom of the stairs as Grayson rolled under the ropes. Once both were in the ring, Jameson pulled away from his phone. They lifted the titles high and clanked the plates of each belt together. They ran to opposite corners and hopped to the center turnbuckle, and then both took another selfie as the crowd’s boos grew louder. The Lynch brothers hopped down and stepped into their corner. The referee stepped over and asked for the belts, the camera’s onboard microphone picked up Grayson’s reply.
“YOU CAN HAVE MY BELT WHEN YOU PRY IT FROM MY COLD **BLEEP** DAMN FINGERS!”
Grayson looked at Jameson who was glaring at him. Jameson nodded his head and Grayson huffed, “FINE!” Grayson dropped the belt, which forced the ref to bend over and pick it up. Jameson then handed his title over. The referee folded them and went to the center of the ring, holding the belts high as the bell rang.
“Looks like The Night will be the first one in for the All-Stars,” Decker observed as Kendrick Matters left through the ropes. “And it seems as though the Lynch’s are discussing who will start this one out.” Decker observed.
Both Grayson and Jameson nodded to each other, signifying an understanding, then they both stepped through the ropes on and onto the apron. When the two men looked up they shared a similar, surprised look. “What are you doing, you’re starting.. You’re the youngest..” Jameson was picked up through the camera mic, “HELL NO, you’re the ‘VETERAN’, you start it old man!” Grayson responded, using air quotes and a lot of hand movement.
“Come on guys! Get it together!” Called out Alan with a nervous cry.
“Looks like your ‘guaranteed victors’ can’t even decide who’s gonna start the match, Alan. Look here, Senior Referee [ref name] is starting a count out..”
As the crowd counting along the Lynch’s looked at one another and nodded. Both champions then hopped down from the apron and began walking to the timekeeper’s area to collect their championships..”
“They can’t seriously be trying to walk out of here…” Decker said with a familiar uneasy look on his face. “This isn’t really happening.. Not after everything else tonight…”
As Jameson and Grayson rounded the ring post, Kendrick Matters lept from the apron while The Night came over the top rope from inside the ring…
“Double high risk maneuvers, Matters with a missile dropkick to the chest of Jameson Lynch and Grayson on the receiving end of a diving cross body to the outside.”
“This main event Tag Team Championship bout looks to be starting off hot this evening.”
Jameson was the first to his feet followed by Kendrick, and then The Night with Grayson not too far behind. Jameson hit Matters with a measured lariat and Grayson followed suit with The Night flipping head over heels to the floor.
“Quick slide in for the count out!”
“I believe the count was broken when The Night left the ring, Alan.”
Jameson hurled Matters into the guardrail as Grayson lifted The Night to his feet.
Grayson slid The Night into the ring and gave Jameson a fist bump as he rolled in after him.
“Matters being occupied on the outside now by Jameson, neither is the legal man here..”
Grayson lifted The Night from the canvas and sent him hard into the turnbuckle, but The Night ran up to the top and moonsaulted into the waiting arms of the Tag Team Champion. Meanwhile, Jameson Lynch held Kendrick Matters in a side headlock on the outside.
“The champions with an isolation strategy here, this is looking like a one on one match at the moment.”
Grayson, with The Night still perched on his shoulder, took off towards the corner, ramming The Night’s back into the top turnbuckle.
As The Night dropped to the floor Grayson dropped down for a quick cover.
Grayson looked outside the ring, at Jameson, and held up a finger. He covered again..
He held up two fingers..
“What in the world was that?” Decker said puzzled. “Uh.. Grayson now lifting The Night back to his feet..”
Grayson sent The Night into the corner across the ring, but The Night reversed. The Night followed him in..
“Grayson bouncing out of the corner, big slingblade from The Night!”
“Didn’t look like it hurt too bad, he’ll be fine!”
Jameson wrenched the headlock on Matters as he looked on as The Night ran to the ropes.
“Springboard moonsault from The Night… Oh what a miss calculation that was!” Decker called as Grayson lifted his knees into The Night’s stomach.
Jameson chuckled, letting his hold slip for a moment. Matters took advantage.
“Oh big back drop suplex on the outside by Matters.”
Matters picked up Jameson and threw him towards the Lynch Corner.
“And Jameson into the steel steps.”
“What!” McTaggart cried out, “Not Good!”
“What’s that prediction looking like now, Alan, ha ha.”
Matters climbed to the ring apron and resumed his position in the corner as Grayson lifted The Night back up once again.
“Seems we’ve gone from 1-on-1 to 2-on-1 here in the IGS Main Event. I love it!”
“Come on Michael, that’s not fair! This is a tag team match.. Not a handicapped match!”
Grayson lifted The Night into an overhead press..
“This could be it here, folks!”
Matters was in the ring in a flash, hitting Grayson square in the chest with a dropkick. Grayson fell backward onto the mat and The Night fell on top of him.
“Whew… That was too close for comfort..” McTaggart sighed with relief.
“Sounds like your faith is wavering there Alan.”
As Matters exited the ring Jameson climbed back to the apron, “The odds have returned back to square one here with Jameson Lynch returning to the corner,” Decker observed. The Night lifted Grayson into a headlock and tried to make his way for a tag.
Matters hopped through the ropes and switched out with The Night as he gained a headlock of his own. Matters spun and sent Grayson Lynch into the canvas with a drop toe hold then floated over into a front facelock.
“Matters showing some technical prowess here, Alan, as he gains control over the champion.”
“For the moment, Michael… Grayson Lynch doesn’t have the patience for this technical stuff, he’ll be quick to find a way out of this one!”
As McTaggart spoke the words Grayson thumbed Kendrick in the eye causing a break.
“Experienced move there, Michael..”
“A blatant disregard for the rules is what I’d call it, Alan.”
Matters’ hand went to his eye as Vern Halloway admonished Grayson for the tactic. Grayson shrugged it off as he lifted Kendrick back to his feet.
“Irish whip into the home corner of the champions, OH, nice reversal by Matters and looks like Jameson will tag himself in here.”
Jameson Lynch slowly removed his vest and stepped through the ropes as Matters gathered himself. The two circled mid ring and locked up; Jameson took control with an arm wrench, but Matters flipped over forward and reversed into an arm wrench of his own. Jameson ducked underneath to a hammerlock. Matters grimaced as Jameson applied pressure.
“Round and round they go, Michael, but who comes out in control? A champion does!”
“Alan, you always chime in at just the right moment..” Decker responded as Matters hip tossed Jameson to release the hammerlock.
Matters was quick to follow up with stiff kick to the back, Jameson’s mouth opened wide as he bellowed out a shout of pain. Matters bounced off the ropes and delivered a front dropkick between the shoulder blades and Jameson collapsed back to the canvas. Matters nipped up and the crowd responded with a cheer for the challengers.
“The crowd getting behind these youngsters as they come into this extraordinary opportunity of a match here tonight.”
Matters lifted Jameson up and sent him to the ropes.
“Big armdrag from Matters and he holds on to the arm for the armbar.”
Jameson seemed thrown off, his face a mix of pain and surprised as Matters applied the pressure to the shoulder and elbow joints. Matters fell back to the mat and draped his legs across the chest of the champion in one swift motion. The referee checked Jameson for a submission, and as his back turned Grayson stepped in and ran across the ring dropping an elbow across the chest of Kendrick Matters causing a quick break.
“Grayson, in to break the hold, and the referee not too pleased about it.”
The referee gestured to the corner and began a five count to usher Grayson from the ring, Matters rolled to his stomach as Jameson got to his feet. Using his brother’s slow retreat to the apron as a distraction, Jameson lifted Matters across the bottom rope and used his boot to apply a choke.
“Some very unsportsmanlike conduct from the champions here, Alan.”
“If the ref doesn’t see it, it didn’t happen, Michael..”
As McTaggart spoke, Buddy Showtime slid into position at ringside, next to his man, Kendrick Matters. Matters looked into Buddy’s eyes; his arms out stretched. Showtime reached into his pocket as he eye balled the referee. He tried to thrust it into Kendrick’s hand, but Matters pushed it away and moved his hands up to his throat and face. Showtime held it out once again, but the eyes of Kendrick Matters said it all, he wouldn’t be taking whatever was in the hand of Buddy Showtime.
“What in the world’s going on over there with Showtime and Matters? I think Showtime is trying to hand a foreign object to you the young rookie.”
McTaggart chimed in quickly, “Hey what kinda sh*BEEP* are these kids trying to pull on my friends The Lynch Consortium.”
“Ever the shifting moral compass, you have have, Alan,” Decker said bleakly.
“Why do you always have to...”
Decker cut him off. “And watch that language for goodness sake, we’re live here.”
Matters gasped for air as The Night jumped up and down on the apron, waving his arms in the air and yelling for the ref to turn. Grayson finally stepped outside and relinquished the attention of the senior IGS referee. As Vern Halloway turned, he saw the choke, and rushed over to break it.
“Well it’s happening now, Alan. Jameson holding on for a four count, I don’t know if I’d cut it that close to getting disqualified if I was in there.”
“Champions advantage, Michael, the Lynch’s don’t have to be the All-Stars here, the All-Stars have to beat the Lynch’s.”
“Indeed, you are correct, Alan. The Buddy Showtime All-Stars must win via pinfall or submission to cause a title change here tonight…” Decker followed-up.
As Jameson broke the hold, the referee backed him into the opposite corner, giving Matters a little room to recuperate. “I don’t wanna see any more that, you understand Jameson?” As the referee’s back was turned Grayson hopped to the floor and moved quickly to Matters, grabbing his head and pulling it downward across the rope, continuing the choke. Matters arms flailed, The Night took a step into the ring, looking to head over and help Kendrick. The ref saw it from the corner of his eye and moved into his path. The Night looked distraught as Jameson made his way across the ring for the double team. Jameson stepped on the second rope and dropped his weight across the back of Matters as Grayson released the choke and moved back to the corner. The referee turned and shouted at Jameson, “Get him out of the ropes, champ.” Jameson backed away letting Matters roll to his side and off the rope.
“Solid teamwork by the Lynch Consortium, I will give them that. They are in sync here tonight.”
“Of course their in sync, Michael.. They’ve know each other their whole lives, they trained together, they grew up together, and they’ve honed their style and coordination around the world as the champions of the now defunct PWR promotion out of Kyoto, Japan. And as I said, they’re my pick to win this one.”
“Be that as it may, Alan, there is still no excuse for the tactics they’ve been using thus far…”
“I call that working smarter -- not harder, Michael.”
“I’d just call it cheating.. Blatant cheating.”
“That’s the mindset of a champion, Michael, it’s all about hanging on to the gold, no matter the cost!”
Matters began to crawl towards his corner as Jameson pandered to the crowd. Buddy showtime slipped around the corner and held his hand out through the bottom rope. The referee was still distracted with Jameson.
“What’s Showtime doing over there, Alan?”
“Probably just giving some helpful tips to his in-ring protege. What else would he be doing?”
Matters shook some clarity into his eyes as he stared at Buddy Showtime. Buddy offered something in his hand to Matters, and Kendrick’s eyes widened as he shook his head. Buddy jutted his arm out further and Kendrick pushed it back, he pointed at the crowd and yelled something at his manager, the camera’s microphone didn’t seem to pick it up. But Buddy Showtime’s face told the world he wasn’t pleased with whatever was said.
“Alan, I’m not sure what’s going on with the All-Stars here but it looked like Showtime was offering Kendrick Matters a bit more than advice.”
Jameson, finally free of the referee’s ‘stern talking-to’, headed over to Matters, who was reaching out to The Night for a tag. Jameson grabbed Matters by the ankle and dragged him backward a few steps. Kendrick hopped his way up onto one foot and spun through the air.
“ENZIGURI from Kendrick Matters, and things are getting back to an even footing here.”
Matters looked at Jameson on the canvas, then to The Night, who was hopping up and down, arm extended over the top rope. The crowd clapped along with the rhythm of The Night’s bouncing. Kendrick began to slowly crawl on all fours. Jameson stirred. Grayson reached out as well.
“Both men down, Matters moving towards the corner! Are we gonna see a tag!!”
Matters listened to the crowd as he crawled, he looked back, Jameson was moving towards Grayson. Matters looked back to The Night, just a foot or two away….
Grayson stepped through the ropes with a grin on his face as Jameson rolled to the floor. Kendrick looked back and saw the younger Lynch in the ring, barreling toward him. Matters used the last ounce of energy he had to kick himself forward through the air.
The Night jumped to the top turnbuckle as Grayson closed in…
“THE NIGHT WITH A FORWARD FLIP OFF THE TOP TURNBUCKLE TO THE SHOULDERS OF GRAYSON LYNCH!”
“I don’t believe it……” McTaggart was downtrodden as he looked on.
Grayson hit the canvas and The Night nipped up.. The crowd went crazy. Jameson slid into the ring. The Night turned in time to see the elder Lynch heading his way at full speed.
“BIG STANDING DROPKICK!”
Jameson flew backward into the ropes and out to the floor.
The Night was on fire, he ran around the ring, arms spread wide, as the crowd cheered on. Showtime was yelling from the outside, the camera caught it, “Stop running around! Stay on top of him!” But The Night was doing his laps and enjoying his moment. Grayson was getting to his feet in the corner. The Night noticed changed directions; he bounced off the opposite turnbuckle and came full speed at Grayson, he hopped to the shoulders of the champion once again...
“OOOOH that was not good for The All-Stars!”
The Night lay on the canvas, he looked to be out. Grayson had caught the rookie mid air with a right hand to the chin. Grayson lay across the turnbuckles, breathing heavily. Jameson used the ring apron for support as he slowly began to stand on the outside. Buddy Showtime was in the face of Kendrick Matters, encouraging him to get to his feet.
Grayson shook out the cobwebs as the referee checked on the state of The Night. Grayson turned to see The Night still down, he measured him, he dropped an elbow. The Night’s body convulsed as though he had been hit with 20,000 volts of electricity. Every inch of him shook and left the mat. The Night seemed to be levitating as he twitched violently. Grayson stood back up and dropped another elbow across the chest of The Night. The same response was received. The crowd booed. Jameson reached for the tag… Grayson looked at him at dropped for the cover.
“The Night managing to stay in this thing, I can’t believe it.”
Jameson thrusted his hand out once again for the tag. Grayson held up three fingers in a cocky, nonchalant manner as he strolled to the corner and gave his brother the tag.
“Tag by the champions.. What in the world is going on with Grayson?”
“Michael, I had one of my associates…”
“You mean stooges,” Decker cut him off.
“I mean associates… One of my associates did some asking around backstage and has brought to my attention that the champions have a side bet going on.”
“A bet?! During a Championship Defense?!”
“That’s right, Michael, hahaha.. The Lynch’s have a bet between themselves over who can get the most near falls during the match. And by mount count, it’s 3-Zip-Grayson.”
“Seems like they, and you, are focusing on the wrong aspect of tonight’s main event.”
Jameson, dropped into a cover as the commentator’s bickered.
“You see, Michael!” McTaggart screamed as Jameson turned to the corner, giving his brother a look with a raised eyebrow as he held up his first finger.
Jameson lifted The Night up and, then slipped behind him. Jameson rolled the rookie into a school boy, holding the tights as he tried for the cover.
The referee broke the pinfall as he noticed the tights. He backed Jameson away. “Cut that out, Jameson. One more violation and it’ll be a handicapped match.”
“Vern Halloway threatening to send Jameson to the back, if the rule breaking continues, and I’m not sure how empty -- or full for that matter -- that particular threat may or may not be.”
McTaggart stared at Decker..
“What?” Decker asked.
“What in the *BEEP* did you just say??”
Decker shook his head and return his eyes to the ring.
Jameson threw his hands in the air and nodded as the ref moved out of the way, and let the match continue. Jameson lifted The Night back up from the canvas. Kendrick Matters finally made it into the corner. He was in time to see The Night back down on the canvas after having received a sit out neckbreaker from the champion. Jameson covered once more.
“The fight is still in The Night!”
“....Did you seriously just make a rhyming comment…..” McTaggart looked dumb founded.
Showtime pounded the apron, yelling at The Night to get back to the corner and make the tag. The Night rolled to his stomach as Jameson stood. Jameson adjusted the waist of his tights as he stalked The Night, who was slowly beginning to crawl. Jameson kicked the side of the masked rookie’s head, a broad smile on his face. The crowd responded…
Jameson outstretched his arms and soaked the boos in as he get The Night’s head a kick once more. Grayson reached for the tag, Jameson shook his head... Kendrick reached for the tag, The Night crawled… Jameson grabbed the knot of the mask on the back of The Night’s head and lifted him up. Jameson whipped him to the ropes, The Night slid underneath. Jameson dropped down as The Night returned and the Night skipped over him. Jameson was back up in time to hit The Night with a clothesline after he hit the ropes a third time. Jameson turned quickly and gave Kendrick a grin. Kendrick tried to come through, but the referee stopped him. Grayson was in the ring in a flash. Jameson lifted The Night up and into a flapjack, Grayson jumped and caught The Night’s head, bringing it down to the canvas with a seated faceplant.
“Double Team! Ref didn’t see it! A Disorderly Conduct from The Consortium!”
Grayson rolled out and Jameson covered just as the ref turned around.
“My God! The Night kicked out!”
“Oh No! How does he do it, Michael!”
Jameson pounded a fist into the mat. He looked to Grayson on the outside and nodded. The ref turned to the All-Star corner as a commotion began..
“Buddy Showtime having a heated argument with Matters in the corner… He has what appears to be a roll of quarters in his hand. It looks as though he’s trying to get Matters to use the roll as a weapon in the ring, to save The Night and the match for the All-Stars.”
“Well I’d say that would’ve been a smart move, but now Matters has drawn the attention of the referee!!”
Kendrick Matters waved his arms at Showtime, “No way! We win clean or not at all!”
“Are you crazy, this is a championship opportunity you may never get again?!” Showtime answered. Buddy then realized the referee was heading his way, and shoved his hand into his pocket. ”Come on Kendrick, pay attention and get that arm as far into the ring as you can for the tag!” Buddy yelled out some random advice with a large smile as the ref came into earshot.
Kendrick shook his head, a look of mild disgust on his face as he turned back to the ring, reaching his hand over the top.
The ref turned his attention back around in time to see The Night being hit square in the forehead with a steel chair by Grayson Lynch. “That’s it!” He waved his arms around in the air and the bell sounded.
“I think our senior referee, Vern Halloway, has finally had enough of this match. Looks like The Lynch’s will get the disqualification they’ve been looking for, and will retain their IGS Tag Team Championships tonight. Let’s go to Peter Greenberg with the announcement.”
“Your winners, by Disqualification…. The Night.. Kendrick Matters.. THE BUDDY SHOWTIME ALL-STARS!”
The crowd reactions was mixed. Some cheered because the good guys got the win.. Some booed Buddy Showtime for his attempts at playing dirty.. Some cheered because they thought Lynch’s were stars… but MOST booed because the Lynch’s didn’t earn their title retention, they just managed it.
The Lynch Consortium, titles in hand, walked back up the ramp, arms held high. The champions basked in their ‘victory’ as Last Breath by Future began to fill the arena and The Buddy Showtime All-Stars stood center-ring, the referee raising their wrists to signify their win.
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