We come back from commercial, and......
["The Immigrant Song" played over the PA as "Icebreaker" Torvald
Reikkersen stepped into the aisle, Frieda on one arm, and the Swedish
Blond of the Week on the other. Reikkersen was wearing white slacks
and an ice-blue silk shirt with a white sportjacket. Sunglasses
completed the image. Frieda and tSBotW were tastefully attired in
slacks and blouses, Frieda mostly in dark blue, tSBotW mostly in
green. Reikkersen paused for a moment in the aise to sign
an autograph on a Frozen Hell poster offered by a fan, then he
continued down to the ring where he scooped a mic up off the table.]
[Reikkersen]
I'm sorry everyone, but I can't stay long. We've got reservations at Chez Antoine
and I never dissappoint the ladies. Since the arena here is on the way, though,
I thought I'd say a few words.
Let's talk about the World Title, shall we? It took the combined efforts of three
of the top ranked wrestlers in the world to keep the Fury of the Norsemen from
walking away with the belt. You ...
(Suddenly a voice yells out over the loudspeaker, interrupting
Reikkersen ...}
[Voice]
Do you just talk to hear yourself, or is there a point to this?
You avoided me the whole time you were "Champ" in IeWS, and you're
avoiding people now.
{The crowd murmers, then half-pops, half-oohs as Damien Omega, most recognizable
from his time as IeWS Intercontinental Champion, enters the arena, microphone in
hand. He stops at end of the entrance ramp. He has a backpack across his shoulder.}
[Omega]
I want you to know, Torvald, that I has been patiently waiting,
and waiting for you to show your face back up in a ring. You've been
making those lousy low budget flicks so long, that I thought I'd never get a
chance to get at you.
You do remember me, right, Torvald? Y'know, the former #1 contender
for the IeWS title that you would never give a title shot to? The one
that night after night defended the IeWS IC belt, never lost the #1
contendership the entire time I was in the IeWS, but you somehow managed to
NEVER fight me in the ring? I've been waiting a LONG time for this. Now you
have no excuses. Now you have no reason not to fight me. I'm here ....
you're here .... let's see who was actually the best.
{Omega unzips the backpack as the crowd pops, anticipating a fight}
Before the IeWS folded, I found something that you might remember. It
may mean absolutely nothing now, it may hold no place in this
federation, but I think it is important, at least for me, to resolve
this problem I've always had for you....
{Omega pulls out a large title belt, and hold it up. It is the IeWS
Heavyweight Championship belt. He drops it on the ground, at the bottom
of the entrance ramp}
Tell you what....I'm gonna get that title shot. I'm gonna win THIS
belt from you just like I should have back a few years ago. This is
yours. I got it just for you. I want a match tonight, and this belt
will be the stakes. You win, you keep it. I win, I keep it. That's
how title matches should go.
Oh, and don't say you can't, or that you don't have time, or you have
prior engagements, and you won't wrestle me tonight....I've already got
the match approved.
No more hiding, Torvald. You got what's coming to you tonight.
{"Slave to the Grind" by Skid Row plays, as Omega strolls out, the IeWS
title still lying on the ground nearby. Reikkersen bailed out of the ring instantly.]
[Reikkersen]
Let me get this straight; you steal my belt -- I've been looking
for that! -- and then want to bet it back to me in exchange
for my missing a dinner reservation at the best French
restaurant this excuse for a town has? I don't think
so.
[Reikkersen and his entourage have been edging around Omega and
start up the aisle. They are halted by EWC referee Terry Magnum. who speaks
quietly to Reikkersen, who holds his hand over the mic. Reikkersen doesn't
look amused. Finally, he turns and walks back to the ring alone, to where
Omega waited.]
[Reikkersen]
I don't even want to know what strings you pulled to get
this schedule, obviously the same people who conspired
to put me in the ring with three men out for my blood
want to see this charade.
[The two women have by now joined Reikkersen ringside.]
So, I guess we'll have to get it on.
[Reikkersen handed the mic to Frieda, removed his sportsjacket and
handed it to her, then grabbed something from tSBotW -- the IeWS
belt which she had retrieved while Reikkersen was talking. Reikkersen
waffled Omega with the belt, then rolled out of the ring. Frieda held
the mic to his face,]
But this is mine! And it's going to stay mine!
[He handed the belt back to tSBotW, who took off for the lockers.
Reikkersen rolled back into the ring and we were off.]
IEWS TITLE MATCH!?!?!?!?!?
"Icebreaker" TORVALD REIKKERSEN vs. DAMIEN OMEGA
Unfortunately for tSBotW, she was stopped midway up the ramp by
Tara Jansen, who told her "He accepted the challenge..the belt
is up for grabs. Hand it over"...the SBotW reluctantly relented as
Reikkersen continuted to pound and stomp on the fallen Omega.
"Icebreaker" picks Omega up and goes for an atomic drop, but
Damien falls backwards over Torvald and then *nails* him with an
enziguri that sends him over the top rope. Torvald takes his normal
time to stall.
The match then slowed down for a bit, between Reikkersen's stalling
and Omega's penchant for weardown/submission holds. Omega proved himself
to haven't lost much, chaining moves well and getting Reikkersen to howl
in pain more than once. The momentum shifted
when Frieda distracted the ref long enough for Torvald to land a
cheap shot behind the refs back, followed by a DDT.
Torvald then worked on the legs in classic Flair style..kicks and
stomps, sitting on the leg as it sat on the bottom ring rope,
yanking Omega to the ringposts and ramming his thigh into it, etc,
etc...but an attempt to lock the Figure Fjord was blocked by
Omega, and Omega kicked Torvald away and kipped up to his feet,
only to wobble as he landed on the tender leg. This bought Torvald
time to kick the leg back under, then lock on the figure four.
Omega fought and fought and fought, even though Torvald was holding on
to both Frieda and the ring ropes while Magnum's back
was turned...and eventually reversed it, causing Torvald to grab the
ring ropes quickly.
Torvald moved in, but Omega fought back with several forearm
uppercuts, followed by a roundhouse kick that staggered Reikkersen
to the turnbuckle. Omega then fired off 10 shots in the corner (with the
crowd counting along, natch), then flipped himself over the top
rope, landing on the ground. He then grabbed Reikkersen's legs,
rammed them into the steel post, and then locked a figure four
on the steel ringpost for a few seconds, freeing himself long
enough to *just* beat the ref count into the ring. Not wasting
a beat, Omega grabbed Torvald's beaten leg and bulldogged it into the
ground, then rolled him over. He signaled to the crowd and locked
on the End Game (otherwise known as a crooked figure four)...ten seconds
later, Reikkersen tapped out.
###############################################
# WINNER: Damien Omega, via submission, 7:22 #
###############################################
Postmatch, as Omega celebrated, Brad Watkins rolled into the ring
in his suit, grabbed the IeWS belt, and walloped Omega with it
*again*! The two men then pounded Omega into the ground for a few
seconds before leaving the ring, Torvald holding the IeWS championship
high..Vanessa Stone going on about how it wasn't a title match,
and that Torvald is still the rightful champ. After a few seconds,
Omega came to and limped out on his own.
THOUGHTS: Fun history match...I'm convinced that EWC is now trying
to raid at least two major stars from every current and former
e-wrestling power out there. Anyways, Reikkersen really isn't doing
much solowise, and the Frozen Hell-Cut 'n Shoot thing seems to be
simmering rather than boiling, so this could be an interesting diversion...
especially if they want to eventually push Reikkersen to
a *real* belt.
They go to commercials, and when we get back, a handicap match
is on docket...
SEBASTIAN SLOAN versus The Disco Dance Kings
Grant & LeFebvre made their way to the ring to "Staying Alive" which lent itself
to several cracks by the announcing staff about their goal in the upcoming match.
Next, the arena went dark and over the PA Sloan's voice could be heard...
[Sloan]
Vanity is a weakness of the soul. One must be humble before greater
powers, tonight you will learn about humility. I will show you the error of
your ways. Prepare to be enlightened...
"Dragula" by Rob Zombie then faded in as the runway was illuminated by a strobe
light with blue mist pouring from the back. Sebastian Sloan then stepped onto
the runway and basked in the overwhelming chorus of jeers. He adjusted his
long black gloves, tied his long hair into a ponytail, and then strode condifently
towards the ring, stepping over the top rope to enter. The dancing fools were in
the ring doing their thing and Sloan just stood motionless, glaring, when the bell rang.
Instand carnage. Sloan was on both men in seconds backing LeFebvre into the corner
and unloading with rapid fire elbows to the head, and knees to the stomach. When
Grant tried to intervene he was picked up by the throat and tossed into his
partner--he then took several stiff boots to the stomach for his troubles.
Sloan then backed up across the ring and hit a leaping forearm sending both
men rebounding back into the corner. Grant was hurled into the opposite
corner buckle with such force that he flipped over the top rope and onto the
floor. LeFebvre was even less fortunate as he also went to the floor but his
trip was courtesy of a wicked looking harpoon toss right onto his partner. The
crowd was jeering heavily, but even they were impressed when Sloan went up to the
top rope and flew off hitting a double flying clothesline onto the floor. Sloan
then rolled both men into the ring and covered. The three was academic, except
Sloan picked up both men at 2.5, drawing a warning from the referee.
He shook his head and actually appeared to be disappointed--it was as if he felt he
had yet to teach his lesson in humility. Sloan went into the corner and lowered
his head apparently deeply in prayer. He remained in this trance-like state for
about 30 seconds, which prompted the crowd to chant boring until Sloan's opponents
managed to get back up and leap on Sloan from behind. Grant trapped the big man
in a sleeper as LeFebvre drop kicked Sloan's leg from behind causing Grant to fall
forward onto Sloan. Grant followed up with a splash off the ropes and both men
quickly covered. At just about 2, Sloan tossed both men off of him with a vengeance.
Grant & LeFebvre looked panicked as Sloan smiled and grabbed both men by the throat
and hit stereo one-arm chokeslams. Grant was then lifted off the canvas and the
cobra clutch was synched--Grant was lifted about two feet off the ground and then
driven into the mat via a modified bulldog--he had been enlightened. Sloan then
turned to get LeFebvre but he had foolishly gone up top. Sloan crotched him on
the top rope and then went up after him. In a move that would make the late
Sylvester Ritter proud, he hit a pivoting powerslam from the heavens--right onto
Grant. 3 seconds later the match history and the paramedics were rushing to the
ring to check on the Disco Dance Kings. As the crowd booed heavily he grabbed a
nearby microphone.
[Sloan]
If you would all quiet your voices for a moment, I have a confession to
make. I stand before you a humbled man. Several weeks ago I warned you about a
threat to our pure, godly way of life. I told each and every one of you there
was one walking among us who thrived on the pain and suffering of others. I
was sent here to the EWC to tame the evil beast called the Slayer. I promised
to protect you from his rage, and to save him from his own inner fury--so far
I have failed.
Why did this happen? Simple, I committed a sin of my own. I was vain and
overestimated my own ability to save someone from the clutches of
darkness--to bring that man into the warm light of goodness. My mistake
was in underestimating the power of hate, of violence, of a man who lives
every day with the hope of destroying another. That will not happen again.
Slayer--change your name, try to hide among us, but I will seek you out
and expose you as the messanger of evil I know you to be. I will not let
you continue your reign of terror.
I will not rest until you step away from your deranged ideals and embrace
our proper, civilized way of life. Be warned, I will do anything it takes
to protect these compassionate people--no matter what it costs me or you...
[As the crowd continues to jeer, Sloan heads back towards the curtains.
Just before he gets there, a very attractive, quite familiar looing woman
steps partially into view and extends her hand. Sloan takes it and the
two disappear from site.]
THOUGHTS: Was that....nah, couldn't be....
Another shot of Sim getting ready, then a commerical....
when we come back, they announce the next match to be Retrospection
v. Beyond Our Control...only problem is, "Murder Inc." comes on
and Murder Inc. goes to the ring. The crowd boos like fiends
but the announcers are typically confused....
"the Assassin": Okay, all you mugs quiet down, Terry and I have a few words
to say to some people.
(wait for crowd's booing to subside to reasonable level)
[the Assassin]
Firstly, "Gunslinger" Glenn Turner and Weapons of Last
Resort. Glenn, we appreciate the offer and you're right about us getting
robbed, but you aren't the ones who did the robbing so thanks, but no
thanks. I've said it before and I'll say it again, Murder, Inc. is
about respect...not titles...and our first targets are gonna be some
people who didn't give us the respect that we've earned.
[Hit Man]
Although, once they're dealt with, we may well be calling on you anyways.
You boys were doing pretty well on your own, but Frank and I were prepared
for a certain little pipsqueak in a joke mask and not that monster you're
currently partnered with. You move well, for a big man, Kenzake, but
we're gonna have to see how well you do against us when we know what's coming.
[the Assassin]
Now, secondly, Lady Commisioner Tara Jansen. We weren't too happy at first
with your little declaration about our problems with
Baen, Cannon, and Schrapnel.
[Hit Man]
But the more we thought about it, the more we decided we liked
it, so, Tara, from Murder, Inc....with all out heart...
[Both men]
...Thank ya, sweetheart. (both men blow kisses)
[the Assassin]
Lastly, we've got a few things to say to Beyond Our Control personally, so
you two clowns get your tails out here.
(At this point, "Grey Matter" by Oingo Boingo pops up and Baen,
Cannon and Shrapnel actually come out from the *announcers*
side, coming through the crowd...and rolls into the ring to
get face to face with Murder Inc. Spinelli, however, puts
a finger up...)
[the Assassin]
You know the conditions on our Slamrock match, you agreed to them.
[Hit Man]
Well, THAT AIN'T ENOUGH. We're tired of your stupid entrance...
[Assasin]
...tired of your lame gimmick...
[Hit Man]
...and, most of all, we're tired of your ugly faces.
[the Assassin]
So if, or I should say WHEN, we pin your no-talent asses at
Slamrock, for the next sixty days, we figure you stooges should wrestle
in masks, under a new name, and entering to new music...all designated by us.
[Hit Man]
Now, unlike our thankfully former EWC champion, Roker Slowtime, we don't figure
on getting something for nothing. So, on the unlikely, almost unthinkable,
chance that you clowns actually win come March 14th, name your stip if we
lose. In fact, we'll give you mooks
a week to think about it!
(Murder Inc. leaves the ring as BOC starts laughing hysterically
about the concept)
[the Assassin]
Oh, by the way, one other thing boys...
[Hit Man]
...watch your backs.
(as Murder, Inc. pass the announcers table on the way to the back)
[the Assassin]
The Lady Commish said we couldn't lay a hand on them...
[Hit Man]
...she never said JACK about setting the mooks up for someone else.
(as Murder Inc. head up the ramp, they both seem to be looking for someone or
something in the crowd--nothing happens though. Nothing that is, until pink
and gold sparklers explode around the entrance-way and "Holding Out for a
Hero" by Bonnie Tyler starts blaring from the PA.
Seconds later, "Old School" Brian Styles & "The Throwback" Jason Gentry, burst
through the curtains twirling into view. Both men are wearing neon green t-shirts
with, "DUCK!!!" on the front and "Dangerous Unexpected Crashes Kill" with a
cartoon of BOC lying on a broken table, with angels above their heads, on the
back. Retrospection are also in leopard skin capes and, to the dismay of most
of the crowd, carrying microphones. Murder Inc. do NOT look pleased.)
[Styles]
Terry-baby, Frankie--follow your namesake and RELAX! Maybe you two should just
go to Hollywood!!! HA!
[Gentry]
Seriously guys, we appreciate what you were trying to do for us--I mean
setting up a jump and all, but Bri and I talked about it last week while
relaxing at the spa and we decided that just wasn't our way--it was just too 90's.
[Styles]
The last thing we wanted to do was get trapped in some wild, sweaty,
weapon-filled brawls with the likes of what's in the ring. So, Jay and I
figured we needed to do things our way--the classic way. And we're talking
classic in the Breakfast Club kind of way.
[Gentry]
Before we get to the looney tunes in the ring though--we've got a quick
message for all of our fans out there in TV-land. We're sorry we were
preempted last week--I know we promised you your first dose of vintage
nostalgia, but we got a little side-tracked.
[Styles]
Your number one authorities on the way life OUGHT to be got themselves
roped into a world tag team title match. WHICH--we should have won had it
not been for the exact sort of things we keep telling you are all wrong
with wrestling.
[Gentry]
Roll that video wall!!!
(BOC are still standing in the ring looking at imaginary watches,
pretending to take naps, and generally goofing off. The video wall pops on
with scenes from the finals of the world tag team tournament)
=====
Dr.S: Turner on the outside..slingslots and springboards OFF OF KENSAKE'S
SHOULDERS INTO A SUPERFLY SPLASH ON GENTRY!!!!
=====
Cross: He turns around..this may be the biggest moonsault in
e-wrestling...RIGHT ON THE MARK!!!!!
=====
[Styles]
Now, WHAT was all of that commotion? The flying, the leaping, and
twisting--I wasn't informed we were fighting Ringling Brothers Circus.
What was with the clowns and freaks? That was NOT wrestling, and THAT
was why we lost.
[Gentry]
It's a shame because you two have such potential. In fact, that seven and a
half foot dinosaur there fought things nice and simple, nothing too fancy
until he tried being like Mr. fancy-pants. As for you Turner? One--you
spent more time above the ring than in it, and TWO--you wear a cowboy hat.
'Nuff said on that one.
[Styles]
You two may have the belts for now but we're hot on you heels planning and
plotting. We know enough to respect tradition and pay homage to the best--we'll
win because we're smarter...
[Gentry]
...and better looking. Just like Jack Wagner & Rick Springfield in their prime.
(out of nowhere a UPS man comes down the ramp wheeling a giant gift wrapped
package, Gentry signs for it, and then the UPS man heads to the back.)
[Styles]
Now Baen, Cannon, don't think for a second we've forgotten about you. In
fact, the reason we kept you waiting was because we bought you a present
and were waiting for it to arrive.
[Gentry]
That's right--today is your lucky day. You're getting presents bought by
two men with a whole lot more taste than you two do. Don't get too excited
though--it's not like we got you a Baron Von Klaw or ET doll or anything.
(Retrospection lift the large box and carry it down to ringside...with
shocking ease given its giant size)
[Styles]
We don't want you to get the wrong idea--this gift is as much for our
benefit as yours, but just so you know it's not a trap, we'll go over to
the other side of the ring and watch you open it from there.
[Gentry]
C'mon, open it! Don't worry, it's not like there's a guy in a hockey mask in there.
***NOTE: At this point, BOC very cautiously starts opening the box..
Shrapnel opens it, and there's a smaller box inside. This goes
on for about 3 minutes, really annoying a restless crowd, until
they pull out a paper with "ACME INSURANCE POLICY" written in
big letters on the header...BOC's laughter ends here***
[Gentry]
You're very welcome!!! We knew you'd love this.
(Retrospection leap up and down in mock delight)
[Styles]
For all you local morons who can't read, we just bought those two insane
goofballs, insurance policies covering them for any damage they do tonight--that
covers chairs, tables, ring equipment, and even us.
[Gentry]
Did you think for a second we'd get in the ring with guy who think
wrestling holds involve cheese graters and pipes and NOT have our gorgeous
faces and perfect bodies protected? If you did you're stupider than we
thought--and that's bad.
[Styles]
So, say your catch phrase if you want, but for tonight it doesn't apply.
Tonight--the Acme Insurance Company is responsible for your actions.
Tonight you are UNDER CONTROL!!!
(the duo are laughing hysterically at their little display, hugging,
slapping hands and whooping it up--no one else is quite amused)
RETROSPECTION vs. BEYOND OUR CONTROL
Especially not BOC, as they *Barrel* into the ring, double clothesline
both members of Retrospection over the top, and just look at
each other and smile as they go for the double plancha, nailing it.
From there the match was brief but interesting...BOC went after
Styles and Gentry as normal..except nothing really seemed to work
well....Baen grabbed for the ring steps,b ut they were chained
to the ring, whereas normally they would be loose and ready to
toss. This momentary distraction allowed Gentry to grab a
nearby padded steel chair and whack Baen from behind with it, then
roll in...
From here, the match is interesting in that Baen actually *outwrestles*
Gentry for a while, using go-behind takedowns, armdrags, and a nice
wakigatame armbar...Retro is in shock at this.....Baen tags in
Cannon, and Cannon hits a nice dropkick, followed by an
armwringer of his own. Retro responded in kind, and for about
five minutes this was a *classic* style of scientific match,
very back and forth. This changed, however, as Baen was
setting up to toss Styles outside while Cannon grabbed for a table..
only to grab one with both legs broken so that it wouldn't stand.
This momentary distraction allowed Styles to shoot an elbow backwards
into the lower sternum, then a bulldog to regain momentum.
From here, the match is *all* Retrospection until the last two
minutes (Due to lack of time, imagine some really tight late 80's
style wrestling, with a few brutal 90's power moves mixed in and
a lot of Two Muchish goofiness). Cannon reversed an attempt
at a "Glory Days" Sitdown powerbomb/neckbreaker combo by flipping
backwards over the powerbomb attempt and clotheslining *through*
one man, then dropping low as Baen clotheslined the other from
behind..*NICELY* timed move. From there, things went over
the top...all four men brawled outside the ring, until Gentry
managed to scoot away and Baen followed in pursuit..unfortunately
it was Gentry and CANNON who were the legal men, and BOC were counted
out
#########################################
# WINNERS: Retrospection, via CO 9:21 #
#########################################
Postmatch, Cannon powerbombs Gentry on the outside, and Baen gives
an atomic drop toss to the outside on Styles right onto the only
table standing outside the ring...yep, the announcers table.
Four seconds later, springboard senton sends Styles southward,
squashimng him senseless. (How's THAT for Alliteration). BOC
heads back on their own feet, while Gentry has to carry Styles
back.
Commercials....