CU:LT S01E02
Bibi Persaud grew up in Guyana his whole life, part of a poor family he didn’t get much exposure to pop culture outside the mainstream zeitgeist – not a single clip of professional wrestling. But when he saw the picture on the huge poster visiting Georgetown he saw two people who kind of looked like him. Iggy Deluna vs Jaka – no doubt it was a company tokenizing its black athletes for exposure – but to Persaud it meant a lot more… It was a little note written on the wall saying ‘you can escape.’
Recalling Jonestown – locals were weary about a foreign company bringing several other foreigners to the country. The event still hangs over the country like a sickness. And CU:LT has the audacity to name an event Jonestown Reunion.
Still, out of pure boredom, young locals like Persaud took the company up on free tickets. What else was there to do, this was the biggest event the country had in years… the infrastructure could hardly support the amount of tourists flocking to the country. Those who remembered were weary after 900 people drank cyanide laced Flavor-Aid in the late 70s and enriched the soul with their decaying bodies.
Persaud pushed through the crowd in the airplane hangar being used as a venue. The crowd was buzzing, a mix of cheers from tourists and confusion by locals talking amongst themselves about what to expect.
Old Local: So what do you think of all this?
Persaud: I don’t think there is anything else to really do tonight. Have you ever seen wrestling before?
Old Local: Yeah, in the late 70’s a tour came through – right before the well… People’s Temple.
He clenched his wrinkled hands and winched – maybe he was part of the clean up. Presaud wanted to put his hand out and comfort him, but he didn’t opt for the moment of intimacy as the crowd pushed them along.
Old Local: It was pretty slow paced back then, pretty family friendly. Did a good job of putting large Americans out there as the good guys. Helped build up an international reputation with how popular some of the guys got.
Persaud: I have a feeling this will be a little bit different than what you remember.
Booths littered at the edge of the crowd served food and drinks – particularly a purple drink, some type of booze with the 'Jonestown Reunion’ logo on it. Persaud felt crazy thinking it as he made his way to his seat, but he could swear the more they drank – the more anticipation filled the air.
Recalling Jonestown – locals were weary about a foreign company bringing several other foreigners to the country. The event still hangs over the country like a sickness. And CU:LT has the audacity to name an event Jonestown Reunion.
Still, out of pure boredom, young locals like Persaud took the company up on free tickets. What else was there to do, this was the biggest event the country had in years… the infrastructure could hardly support the amount of tourists flocking to the country. Those who remembered were weary after 900 people drank cyanide laced Flavor-Aid in the late 70s and enriched the soul with their decaying bodies.
Persaud pushed through the crowd in the airplane hangar being used as a venue. The crowd was buzzing, a mix of cheers from tourists and confusion by locals talking amongst themselves about what to expect.
Old Local: So what do you think of all this?
Persaud: I don’t think there is anything else to really do tonight. Have you ever seen wrestling before?
Old Local: Yeah, in the late 70’s a tour came through – right before the well… People’s Temple.
He clenched his wrinkled hands and winched – maybe he was part of the clean up. Presaud wanted to put his hand out and comfort him, but he didn’t opt for the moment of intimacy as the crowd pushed them along.
Old Local: It was pretty slow paced back then, pretty family friendly. Did a good job of putting large Americans out there as the good guys. Helped build up an international reputation with how popular some of the guys got.
Persaud: I have a feeling this will be a little bit different than what you remember.
Booths littered at the edge of the crowd served food and drinks – particularly a purple drink, some type of booze with the 'Jonestown Reunion’ logo on it. Persaud felt crazy thinking it as he made his way to his seat, but he could swear the more they drank – the more anticipation filled the air.
Jonestown Cold Open Video
Red solo cups of purple juice sway in the air, drops falling on frantic fans as they cheer on a sport a majority of them have never seen before – nor know what to expect. All of them jammed into an airport hangar sweaty – locals shoulder to shoulder with privileged foreigners who could spring a pretty penny to get to Southern America for the show. Likely several TikTok dark tourism enthusiasts who hope to stop by the actual site of the Jonestown Massacre to snap a quick pic for their followers so they can hopefully get into celebrity boxing or something.
Foote: Ladies, gents and anyone else we are back live with the second installment of Combat Unlimited: Lethal Trials. If it sounds like it was originally pitches as a Japanese game show that’s entirely likely.
“Don’t Drink The Water” by Justin Townes Earle bumps through the airport hangar, slightly distorted – the crowd taps their feet along as a compilation of the bloody, technical, beautiful war that was Manson Family Values recaps on the screen. Shots of Three Ring Barney hosting the Double Homicide Championships, Owen Gonsalves screaming with the CU:LT Classic Championship hanging on his shoulder and Donnie Hopkins breathing heavy, the New World title strapped around his waist to close out the video package on the big screen.
Sting: That’s just a bit of a recap of the amazing action we saw last month, but I know some new debuts are going to do their best to catch the eye of the CU:LT fans tuning in around the world at wrestlecult.com.
Ring announcer Anderson Shepley stands in the middle of the ring alongisde CU:LT's only ref, JJ Huffman. The music fades and the lights go out. A shadow appears on stage, the big screen showing a zoomed version to the crowd. Suddenly, a lighter flicks, tobacco crackles as an ember grows.
Sting: Is it going to be tradition for Casanova English to come out here and stroke his ego before every single CU:LT event? I could see people getting tired of that act pretty quick.
The eerie voice of a former member of the notorious Manson Family rings off the walls of the hangar.
"yeah, I
remember her saying:
I'm already dead... I'm already dead... I'm
already dead..."
Foote: After the show he put on last month, I think he deserves a little air time. I want to hear if there are any card changes, don’t be so judgmental little lady. Aren’t you kids supposed to awaken or something?
The lights come on slowly and Casanova English is seated in a simple wooden chair – much like the one Rev. Jim Jones used to sit on – behind him on a wooden board is the same saying that used to hang behind the evil preacher as he spread the word of a false prophet… ‘Those who do not remember the past are condemned to repeat it.’
"You're going to get up and scream. I'm
already dead... I'm already dead... I'm already dead..."
You're
going to get up and-
Burn an x in your head."
Sting: I don’t know if leaning into the whole Jonestown thing is going to win us any fans locally.
English takes a long drag off his cigarette. He scowls at the crowd as Bash Daddy walks out from the curtain standing behind him. English gets up from the wooden chair and Bash follows him to the ring.
Anderson: Ladies and gentlemen, the owner of Combat Unlimited Lethal Trials, CU:LT Leader CASANOVA ENGLISHHHHH!
English walks up the steps and between the ropes, Bash towering behind him sticking close every step of the way. English snatches the microphone from Anderson Shepley and dismisses him.
English: People of Guyana we bring to you a night of top tier combat for your enjoyment. See this is a country abused and neglected by men who look and act like me. Preachers who stood before you and made false promises. Now, I will tell you this… I can’t bring you to the promise land… I cannot guarantee a life beyond this mortal and meek existence. However, with the group of people I have put together – with the matches I have set – for a few hours you will forget life beyond these ring ropes… for a few hours the atrocities of the past hurt just a little bit less.
Foote: He’s a goddamn humanitarian, a saint in the flesh.
Sting: I don’t know if even wrestling can make these people forget about almost 1,000 dying not far from here.
English: Tonight we have some of the biggest debuts in the company with people like Chris Page, who might end up smelling like a burnt blunt by the end of the night as he battles Lissie Hope, Nightmare and Blake O’Reilly – two of which picked up huge wins last month. We have three people battling it out in a thumbtack triple threat to earn their stripes in this company, Savannah, Long and Crawford will poke tiny holes in one another trying to be break out as the future of this company. Tonight every hunk of gold is on the line as people pull themselves apart for glory. A CU:LT Classic between a man who put on the match of a lifetime at Manson Family Values, Owen Gonsalves faces off against one of the biggest free agent signings in the short hisotry of this company, Brandon Moore. We have Donnie Hopkins attempting to defend his New World Championship against Jane Doe in a buried alive match.
Sting: For god sake people know what the card is, we have pumped it out all across social media for a month.
English paces a bit, then looks out to the crowd.
English: Tonight isn’t to make the people in this country, in this airport hangar forget about the events of Jonestown. Look at that sign, the false prophet himself did have one stolen quote which rings true to this very day, ‘Those who do not remember the past, are condemned to repeat it.’ Tonight we can’t promise, blood won’t be shed, that bodies won’t lie in the center of this ring… but know it all comes from a place of love, a place or respect, a way to shake up the world beyond these walls… tonight this is a place of worship, tonight foreigners from around the world come to do more than enrich your soil with the decaying corpse, no we’re here to inject life… we're here to bleed for each and every fucking on of you.
Foote: English is going to create a couple thousand new wrestling fans right here if things go right. This was a risk, the crowd doesn’t even know when to fucking pop…
Tourists in the crowd start a CULT champ that locals quickly follow up the cups of purple swill splashing out of the reservoir.
English: Tonight this is the People's Temple, this a new faith – it’s as real as it gets. So worship, throw your hands in the air, pray at the new altar of violence. Tonight we came just to give you a glimpse – a taste of the best combat company emerging today. So hoist those glasses, toast your brothers, and drink on up… welcome to you new beautiful violent utopia.
Sting: Meh, speech last month was better – but I understand what he is getting at.
English smirks as Bash Daddy sits on the second rope leaving space for English to step through. His music plays through the hangar once again as he makes his way to the back.
Foote: Ladies, gents and anyone else we are back live with the second installment of Combat Unlimited: Lethal Trials. If it sounds like it was originally pitches as a Japanese game show that’s entirely likely.
“Don’t Drink The Water” by Justin Townes Earle bumps through the airport hangar, slightly distorted – the crowd taps their feet along as a compilation of the bloody, technical, beautiful war that was Manson Family Values recaps on the screen. Shots of Three Ring Barney hosting the Double Homicide Championships, Owen Gonsalves screaming with the CU:LT Classic Championship hanging on his shoulder and Donnie Hopkins breathing heavy, the New World title strapped around his waist to close out the video package on the big screen.
Sting: That’s just a bit of a recap of the amazing action we saw last month, but I know some new debuts are going to do their best to catch the eye of the CU:LT fans tuning in around the world at wrestlecult.com.
Ring announcer Anderson Shepley stands in the middle of the ring alongisde CU:LT's only ref, JJ Huffman. The music fades and the lights go out. A shadow appears on stage, the big screen showing a zoomed version to the crowd. Suddenly, a lighter flicks, tobacco crackles as an ember grows.
Sting: Is it going to be tradition for Casanova English to come out here and stroke his ego before every single CU:LT event? I could see people getting tired of that act pretty quick.
The eerie voice of a former member of the notorious Manson Family rings off the walls of the hangar.
"yeah, I
remember her saying:
I'm already dead... I'm already dead... I'm
already dead..."
Foote: After the show he put on last month, I think he deserves a little air time. I want to hear if there are any card changes, don’t be so judgmental little lady. Aren’t you kids supposed to awaken or something?
The lights come on slowly and Casanova English is seated in a simple wooden chair – much like the one Rev. Jim Jones used to sit on – behind him on a wooden board is the same saying that used to hang behind the evil preacher as he spread the word of a false prophet… ‘Those who do not remember the past are condemned to repeat it.’
"You're going to get up and scream. I'm
already dead... I'm already dead... I'm already dead..."
You're
going to get up and-
Burn an x in your head."
Sting: I don’t know if leaning into the whole Jonestown thing is going to win us any fans locally.
English takes a long drag off his cigarette. He scowls at the crowd as Bash Daddy walks out from the curtain standing behind him. English gets up from the wooden chair and Bash follows him to the ring.
Anderson: Ladies and gentlemen, the owner of Combat Unlimited Lethal Trials, CU:LT Leader CASANOVA ENGLISHHHHH!
English walks up the steps and between the ropes, Bash towering behind him sticking close every step of the way. English snatches the microphone from Anderson Shepley and dismisses him.
English: People of Guyana we bring to you a night of top tier combat for your enjoyment. See this is a country abused and neglected by men who look and act like me. Preachers who stood before you and made false promises. Now, I will tell you this… I can’t bring you to the promise land… I cannot guarantee a life beyond this mortal and meek existence. However, with the group of people I have put together – with the matches I have set – for a few hours you will forget life beyond these ring ropes… for a few hours the atrocities of the past hurt just a little bit less.
Foote: He’s a goddamn humanitarian, a saint in the flesh.
Sting: I don’t know if even wrestling can make these people forget about almost 1,000 dying not far from here.
English: Tonight we have some of the biggest debuts in the company with people like Chris Page, who might end up smelling like a burnt blunt by the end of the night as he battles Lissie Hope, Nightmare and Blake O’Reilly – two of which picked up huge wins last month. We have three people battling it out in a thumbtack triple threat to earn their stripes in this company, Savannah, Long and Crawford will poke tiny holes in one another trying to be break out as the future of this company. Tonight every hunk of gold is on the line as people pull themselves apart for glory. A CU:LT Classic between a man who put on the match of a lifetime at Manson Family Values, Owen Gonsalves faces off against one of the biggest free agent signings in the short hisotry of this company, Brandon Moore. We have Donnie Hopkins attempting to defend his New World Championship against Jane Doe in a buried alive match.
Sting: For god sake people know what the card is, we have pumped it out all across social media for a month.
English paces a bit, then looks out to the crowd.
English: Tonight isn’t to make the people in this country, in this airport hangar forget about the events of Jonestown. Look at that sign, the false prophet himself did have one stolen quote which rings true to this very day, ‘Those who do not remember the past, are condemned to repeat it.’ Tonight we can’t promise, blood won’t be shed, that bodies won’t lie in the center of this ring… but know it all comes from a place of love, a place or respect, a way to shake up the world beyond these walls… tonight this is a place of worship, tonight foreigners from around the world come to do more than enrich your soil with the decaying corpse, no we’re here to inject life… we're here to bleed for each and every fucking on of you.
Foote: English is going to create a couple thousand new wrestling fans right here if things go right. This was a risk, the crowd doesn’t even know when to fucking pop…
Tourists in the crowd start a CULT champ that locals quickly follow up the cups of purple swill splashing out of the reservoir.
English: Tonight this is the People's Temple, this a new faith – it’s as real as it gets. So worship, throw your hands in the air, pray at the new altar of violence. Tonight we came just to give you a glimpse – a taste of the best combat company emerging today. So hoist those glasses, toast your brothers, and drink on up… welcome to you new beautiful violent utopia.
Sting: Meh, speech last month was better – but I understand what he is getting at.
English smirks as Bash Daddy sits on the second rope leaving space for English to step through. His music plays through the hangar once again as he makes his way to the back.
Anderson Shepley just finished introducing the infamous Lady Fartmouth to the crowd. The wrestler with a literally asshole for a mouth an unfortunate deformity English is being forced to spare the world from by making LFM wear a mouth covering to avoid an X rating for the show.
Anderson: Now in the ring LADY FARTMOUTH!!!
The crowd seems confused by her – but who isn't? Still not the best into wrestling for a country which hasn’t had much of it at all.
“Typhoons” by Royal Blood hit and Jolyne Ferolino appears on the stage. She scans the ground then stomps toward the ring.
Anderson: And her opponent, from Atlanta, Georgia, weighing in at 130lbs standing 5’5” “Buck Nasty” JOLYNE FEROLINO!!!!
Ferolino slide under the bottom ropes and eyes Lady Fartmouth up and down as she steps back into her corner.
Foote: Buck Nasty thought she was making a statement last month by attacking Nightmare, but she found herself having to deal with the strange form of punishment.
DING, DING, DING!
Lady Fartmouth kicks things off before Ferolino even has her chance to size up her unique opponent. She comes with wheeling rights and lefts pounding down on Jolyne pushing her back to the corner. LFM is scratching at Ferlino like a feral cat before she gets a boot up and plants it in the chest of her assfaced opponent rolling her head over heels backwards toward the center of the ring. As LFM comes at Ferolino once again she is stopped dead in her tracks with a standing missile head butt knocking her back down to the mat.
Sting: You have to wonder if the muzzle CU:LT officials are making Lady Fartmouth wear, which I think is a total human rights issue, is causing LFM to have some issues with her cardio.
Foote: Yeah, you are kind now until you are face to face with a literal gaping arsehole.
LFM comes running across the ring like a feral animal only to be taken out in the midsection with a perfectly placed spear by Buck Nasty. LFM scrambles to her feet and charges again right into a snap suplex. A shotgun dropkick keeps Fartmouth from pushing forward again.
Sting What speed, Buck Nasty is getting huge cheers from the crowd tonight, but that could just be a product of who she is facing here tonight.
LFM goes to pull down her mask, but Ferolino kicks her hand out of the way. She sends LFM into the corner following behind her close and hitting a back elbow sandwiching LFM into the turnbuckle. Buck Nasty comes back to the center and charges with a running knee to the head.
Foote: Some hard shots by Buck Nasty to kick off the show tonight and now shes on the top rope as the crowd is losing it.
Sting: I can't help but feel bad for Fartmouth, she's out here trying her best.
Foote: It’s wrestling not charity.
Ferolino comes off the top with a beautiful corkscrew body splash and covers.
1
2
3!!!???
KICKOUT!
Foote: Damn, I was really hoping she was able to put this one away early.
Ferolino accuses the ref of not being able to count to three and LFM tries a roll up – but truthfully has no idea what she is doing and botches it before getting Buck Nasty’s shoulders on the mat.
Foote: Won’t be winnin wrassler to the year with that mat work, holy fuck.
1
KICKOUT!
Sting: A short one count and Ferolino is up again.
LFM starts thrashing at her opponent pushing Ferolino against the ropes. LFM backs up and goes for a cross body expecting to take both of them out of the ring but Ferolino ducks and LFM sends herself over the top rop to the padding outside.
Sting: Just completely reckless, but we can’t say much different about Buck Nasty.
LFM is stirring on the outside only for Ferolino to soar over the top rope and takes her out with a forearm to the face. The crowd is losing it as Buck Natsy throws her hands in the air tossing LFM under the bottom rope and back into the ring.
Foote: This woman is a star there is no doubt. LFM has no idea what to do with Ferolino and she is using this opportunity to show the entire roster she is going to be a killer.
Sting: Like I said I don’t know if she will have the same response from a crowd back in the US. I think these fans in Guyana are just impressed by her athleticism.
Ferolino nails a sling blade on LFM, bouncing the back of her opponent's head off the mat.
Sting: Rag em’
Ferolino nails the rebounding LFM with the bottom of her keel – claymore style.
Foote: Tag em’.
Buck Nasty picks Fartmouth up, kicks her in the gut, puts her head between Nasty’s egs and executes a package piledriver.
Sting: Ferolino is on a damn roll here nailing Cemetery Games and LFM is out cold on the mat.
Foote: Now Buck Nasty going up to the top rope again.
Ferolino hits a picture perfect shooting star press the entire crowd in the hot airport hangar pops for, spilling their purple drinks all over one another.
Sting: BANG! From the top rope, one of Ferolino’s finishers.
Buck Nasty makes the cover…
1
2
3!!!!
DING, DING, DING!!!
Foote: That’s it, Ferolino ends the night of the dreaded Lady Fartmouth.
Anderson: Here is your winner “Buck Nasty” Jolyne Ferolino!
The ref raises Ferolion’s arm as she looks down at Lady Fartmouth and laughs as her music plays and she steps between the ropes walking toward the back.
Sting: The match with Lady Fartmouth was a punishment for Ferolino attacking Nightmare at Manson Family Values. Well, lets see if that’s the next match English books for What Happens In Vegas… now Buck Nasty has shown she is here to be a mainstay.
Foote: What the hell is this? Ferolino has grabbed a chair from under the ring and now is sliding back in.
Buck Nasty unmasks her arsefaced opponent. She puts her head in the chair and closes it over the neck of LFM. Ferolino heads to the top rope and comes down stomping on the metal chair. LFM is kicking and spitting what looks to be blood from the hole in her face – but you can only assume it’s mixed with other bodily fluid.
Sting: What a disgusting act. The commission for people with disabilities should go after Buck Nasty for this shit. That was a disgusting act.
Ferolino smirks, stepping through the ropes and walking to the back.
Anderson: Now in the ring LADY FARTMOUTH!!!
The crowd seems confused by her – but who isn't? Still not the best into wrestling for a country which hasn’t had much of it at all.
“Typhoons” by Royal Blood hit and Jolyne Ferolino appears on the stage. She scans the ground then stomps toward the ring.
Anderson: And her opponent, from Atlanta, Georgia, weighing in at 130lbs standing 5’5” “Buck Nasty” JOLYNE FEROLINO!!!!
Ferolino slide under the bottom ropes and eyes Lady Fartmouth up and down as she steps back into her corner.
Foote: Buck Nasty thought she was making a statement last month by attacking Nightmare, but she found herself having to deal with the strange form of punishment.
DING, DING, DING!
Lady Fartmouth kicks things off before Ferolino even has her chance to size up her unique opponent. She comes with wheeling rights and lefts pounding down on Jolyne pushing her back to the corner. LFM is scratching at Ferlino like a feral cat before she gets a boot up and plants it in the chest of her assfaced opponent rolling her head over heels backwards toward the center of the ring. As LFM comes at Ferolino once again she is stopped dead in her tracks with a standing missile head butt knocking her back down to the mat.
Sting: You have to wonder if the muzzle CU:LT officials are making Lady Fartmouth wear, which I think is a total human rights issue, is causing LFM to have some issues with her cardio.
Foote: Yeah, you are kind now until you are face to face with a literal gaping arsehole.
LFM comes running across the ring like a feral animal only to be taken out in the midsection with a perfectly placed spear by Buck Nasty. LFM scrambles to her feet and charges again right into a snap suplex. A shotgun dropkick keeps Fartmouth from pushing forward again.
Sting What speed, Buck Nasty is getting huge cheers from the crowd tonight, but that could just be a product of who she is facing here tonight.
LFM goes to pull down her mask, but Ferolino kicks her hand out of the way. She sends LFM into the corner following behind her close and hitting a back elbow sandwiching LFM into the turnbuckle. Buck Nasty comes back to the center and charges with a running knee to the head.
Foote: Some hard shots by Buck Nasty to kick off the show tonight and now shes on the top rope as the crowd is losing it.
Sting: I can't help but feel bad for Fartmouth, she's out here trying her best.
Foote: It’s wrestling not charity.
Ferolino comes off the top with a beautiful corkscrew body splash and covers.
1
2
3!!!???
KICKOUT!
Foote: Damn, I was really hoping she was able to put this one away early.
Ferolino accuses the ref of not being able to count to three and LFM tries a roll up – but truthfully has no idea what she is doing and botches it before getting Buck Nasty’s shoulders on the mat.
Foote: Won’t be winnin wrassler to the year with that mat work, holy fuck.
1
KICKOUT!
Sting: A short one count and Ferolino is up again.
LFM starts thrashing at her opponent pushing Ferolino against the ropes. LFM backs up and goes for a cross body expecting to take both of them out of the ring but Ferolino ducks and LFM sends herself over the top rop to the padding outside.
Sting: Just completely reckless, but we can’t say much different about Buck Nasty.
LFM is stirring on the outside only for Ferolino to soar over the top rope and takes her out with a forearm to the face. The crowd is losing it as Buck Natsy throws her hands in the air tossing LFM under the bottom rope and back into the ring.
Foote: This woman is a star there is no doubt. LFM has no idea what to do with Ferolino and she is using this opportunity to show the entire roster she is going to be a killer.
Sting: Like I said I don’t know if she will have the same response from a crowd back in the US. I think these fans in Guyana are just impressed by her athleticism.
Ferolino nails a sling blade on LFM, bouncing the back of her opponent's head off the mat.
Sting: Rag em’
Ferolino nails the rebounding LFM with the bottom of her keel – claymore style.
Foote: Tag em’.
Buck Nasty picks Fartmouth up, kicks her in the gut, puts her head between Nasty’s egs and executes a package piledriver.
Sting: Ferolino is on a damn roll here nailing Cemetery Games and LFM is out cold on the mat.
Foote: Now Buck Nasty going up to the top rope again.
Ferolino hits a picture perfect shooting star press the entire crowd in the hot airport hangar pops for, spilling their purple drinks all over one another.
Sting: BANG! From the top rope, one of Ferolino’s finishers.
Buck Nasty makes the cover…
1
2
3!!!!
DING, DING, DING!!!
Foote: That’s it, Ferolino ends the night of the dreaded Lady Fartmouth.
Anderson: Here is your winner “Buck Nasty” Jolyne Ferolino!
The ref raises Ferolion’s arm as she looks down at Lady Fartmouth and laughs as her music plays and she steps between the ropes walking toward the back.
Sting: The match with Lady Fartmouth was a punishment for Ferolino attacking Nightmare at Manson Family Values. Well, lets see if that’s the next match English books for What Happens In Vegas… now Buck Nasty has shown she is here to be a mainstay.
Foote: What the hell is this? Ferolino has grabbed a chair from under the ring and now is sliding back in.
Buck Nasty unmasks her arsefaced opponent. She puts her head in the chair and closes it over the neck of LFM. Ferolino heads to the top rope and comes down stomping on the metal chair. LFM is kicking and spitting what looks to be blood from the hole in her face – but you can only assume it’s mixed with other bodily fluid.
Sting: What a disgusting act. The commission for people with disabilities should go after Buck Nasty for this shit. That was a disgusting act.
Ferolino smirks, stepping through the ropes and walking to the back.
Casanova English is looking at the graphic of the upcoming match. His phone ring on cue and he picks it up to speak with one of CU:LT’s creepy shareholders. English doesn’t even say hi.
Shareholder: The match that is coming up… I need Savannah’s virgin blood to complete the artifact.
English: I told you time and time again there is no way she is a virgin, she was joking on Twitter dot come for fuck sake.
Shareholder: No matter, she is still probably the most pure blooded person we have on the CU:LT roster.
There was no way of getting Savannah out of this. He had to find a way to get her blood back to the shareholder to be added to the jar of crimson collected from the SNUFF Championship match at Manson Family Values.
English: Well we better hope Long and Crawford poke enough holes in her to complete the job.
Shareholder: You better hope they do. What I am building is actually a gift for you Casanova… a present to spice things up around here.
He hated the way these fuckers talked in circles, but he’d do his job. He’d collect the blood from Savannah somehow and deliver it to the group of creeps in animal masks that really call the shots around here. English hangs up without saying goodbye as he can hear Caleb Hart’s music hit.
Shareholder: The match that is coming up… I need Savannah’s virgin blood to complete the artifact.
English: I told you time and time again there is no way she is a virgin, she was joking on Twitter dot come for fuck sake.
Shareholder: No matter, she is still probably the most pure blooded person we have on the CU:LT roster.
There was no way of getting Savannah out of this. He had to find a way to get her blood back to the shareholder to be added to the jar of crimson collected from the SNUFF Championship match at Manson Family Values.
English: Well we better hope Long and Crawford poke enough holes in her to complete the job.
Shareholder: You better hope they do. What I am building is actually a gift for you Casanova… a present to spice things up around here.
He hated the way these fuckers talked in circles, but he’d do his job. He’d collect the blood from Savannah somehow and deliver it to the group of creeps in animal masks that really call the shots around here. English hangs up without saying goodbye as he can hear Caleb Hart’s music hit.
Hart’s music is cut off as Vincent Black drives the blunt end of an axe handle into the back of the head of heart. Anderson Shepley just finished introducing Caleb Hart and in a true professional manner he just changes to announce Vincent Black as he continues the assault on his opponent. Slolwy of the back his partner Vhodka Black strust behind him to the side fo the ring.
Sting: What the hell is thing. Vincent Black getting the jump on his opponent before the match even begins. This is not how you want to make a debut in CU:LT.
Anderson: And coming to the ring beating the literal fuck out of his opponent…. Vincent Black.
Black throws Hart under the ropes and orders JJ Huffman to ring the fucking bell. As Caleb pulls himself to his feet using the ropes the bell rings. Vhodka takes her place at ring side, but doesn't seem too concerned with what is going on in the ring taking time to inspect her long nails.
Foote: I have to hand it to Black, pretty smart here… it’s going to be an easy win after cracking Caleb in the skull with the handle or that axe.
DING! DING! DING!
Black runs around the ring cracking Hart in the face with a running haymaker. Spit flies from Hart’s mouth into the crowd.
Foote: Punched the goddamn taste out of the boy's mouth. Black calls that one Liberty from Peace.
Black scoops Hart up and spins him through the aim with a belly to belly which transitions into a tombstone pile driver. The crowd lets out a collective “Ow!”
Sting: Twism from Black. It's going to be a quick paycheck for him tonight after the shit he pulled.
1
2
3!!!
DING! DING! DING!
Anderson: The winner of this match Vincent Black!
Foote: Vincent Black came to make a statement that he is back to the game and I think all of Combat Unlimited hears that loud and fucking clear.
Sting: Wait I think he has a bit more to say…
Black grabs motions for a mic from ringside -- Vhodka snatches it. She gets in the ring and hands it to Vinny who brings it up to his mouth.
Black: This was fun, but I am here to keep my eye on one man. Brandon Moore, I’ll be front and center for your match tonight.
Vincent lets the mic drop and hits the ground as his music rings through the hangar and he makes his way to the back with Vhokda following close behind.
Sting: What the hell is thing. Vincent Black getting the jump on his opponent before the match even begins. This is not how you want to make a debut in CU:LT.
Anderson: And coming to the ring beating the literal fuck out of his opponent…. Vincent Black.
Black throws Hart under the ropes and orders JJ Huffman to ring the fucking bell. As Caleb pulls himself to his feet using the ropes the bell rings. Vhodka takes her place at ring side, but doesn't seem too concerned with what is going on in the ring taking time to inspect her long nails.
Foote: I have to hand it to Black, pretty smart here… it’s going to be an easy win after cracking Caleb in the skull with the handle or that axe.
DING! DING! DING!
Black runs around the ring cracking Hart in the face with a running haymaker. Spit flies from Hart’s mouth into the crowd.
Foote: Punched the goddamn taste out of the boy's mouth. Black calls that one Liberty from Peace.
Black scoops Hart up and spins him through the aim with a belly to belly which transitions into a tombstone pile driver. The crowd lets out a collective “Ow!”
Sting: Twism from Black. It's going to be a quick paycheck for him tonight after the shit he pulled.
1
2
3!!!
DING! DING! DING!
Anderson: The winner of this match Vincent Black!
Foote: Vincent Black came to make a statement that he is back to the game and I think all of Combat Unlimited hears that loud and fucking clear.
Sting: Wait I think he has a bit more to say…
Black grabs motions for a mic from ringside -- Vhodka snatches it. She gets in the ring and hands it to Vinny who brings it up to his mouth.
Black: This was fun, but I am here to keep my eye on one man. Brandon Moore, I’ll be front and center for your match tonight.
Vincent lets the mic drop and hits the ground as his music rings through the hangar and he makes his way to the back with Vhokda following close behind.
The sounds of a siren playing in the background of the whispers of a voice, the lights become dark inside of the arena as the titantron lights up with a feed of static, showing multiple shots of Jason Long holding a collection of championships over the past five years.
Foote: This looks like one arrogant son of a bitch about to make his CU:LT debut maybe a few tacks will poke some holes in that ego of his.
As the opening synthwave beat to ‘Kingslayer’ begins to play over the speakers and echoing throughout the arena as it erupts the crowd, a singular spotlight separates itself from the rest and shines down onto the entrance curtain. With the vocals from Oli Sykes kicking in, the figure of Jason Long steps out from behind the curtain to a loud ovation, with a large smile resting on his face as he stops at the top of the ramp. The King glances down onto the camera looking up towards him, a cocky smile being given towards the camera before opening up his jacket and pushing it behind him– beginning his walk down to the ring, mouthing off to the camera as he does.
Sting: Well it seems even word of Jason Long has made it to Guyana, either that or the drink supplied by CU:LT tonight is adding to the enthusiasm in the hangar.
With the lights all focusing down onto the ringside area, Jason moves along the floor and hops up onto the apron - on the side where the hardcam can get a good look at him - as he leans back against the ropes before entering through the middle ropes. Jason heads into the closest corner to him and climbs up onto the second rope, looking out into the crowd as the introduction is given.
Anderson: Introducing first… wrestling out of Wexford Town, County Wexford, Ireland and weighing in tonight at one hundred and ninety-five pounds… HE IS THE CATALYST… THE KING OF WRESTLING… THIS IS JAAAAAASSSOONNNNNNNNNNN LOOOOOONNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGG!!!!
Foote: All this teatrical bullshit, lets see if Long can hold his own here in CU:LT. There is nothing more dangerous than when an ex is involved let me tell ya from experience.
Just as his name is shouted down the microphone, Jason out-stetched his arms wide and roars out to the crowd, keeping a smile on his face as he does. He removes his leather ring jacket and throws it down to the ringside area before hopping down off of the ropes and leaning back against the turnbuckles.
Anderson: And introducing second…
The long intro of “Black Sheep” by The Clash at Demonhead begins to play through the arena. A single silhouette is seen at the top of the ramp. The silhouette is facing towards the titantron, hands clasped behind their back as they wait for the moment. The crowd claps along to the beat until Brie Larson’s voice finally fills the air and the silhouette turns around to face the ring as the arena lights come to life. Savannah Sunshine’s figure comes into view, but she is not wearing the usual grin. Instead, she's got a look full of fire and determination as she stares daggers around the arena. She doesn't pay any mind to the fans, simply makes her way towards the ring.
Sting: So much history between these past lovers who seem to want nothing more than to destroy each other's lives at this point.
Oh yeah
Oh yeah
Oh yeah
Hello again, friend of a friend
I knew you when
Our common goal was waiting for the world to end
Now that the truth is just a rule that you can bend
You crack the whip shapeshift and trick the past again
As she heads down the ramp, she ignores the hands reaching out towards her. Though, the fans still seem to show some signs of support for the True Society member. As she approaches the ring, she walks over to the steel steps, climbing them until she meets the center of the ring apron. As she meets the center, she scrapes her boots, before climbing over the middle rope and into the ring. The clear change in demeanor is evident as Savannah seems to be in no mood.
Foote: You can see the glare of Savannah piercing Long. It is going to be awkward for Crawford to have to play third wheel.
I’ll send you my love on a wire
Lift you up every time
Everyone, ooh
Pulls away, ooh
From you
Anderson: Making her way to the ring, hailing from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania ... weighing in at one hundred and twenty pounds … She is The Angel of Death ... Breaker of Chains … SAVANNAH AAANNNDDDRRREEEWWWSSS!
With the announcer making her presence known officially, Savannah moves away from the corner and out to the center of the ring. She drops to her knees, wolf's head still on her head, and palms press against the canvas. For the first time, her eyes are seen and they are golden and bright enough to notice. She drops her head back, letting out a loud howl, before she pops up to her feet. Wolf's head slowly removed and handed to someone at ringside.
Anderson: And the final member of this thumbtack triple threat…
A strumming guitar plays over the sound system, as the first seconds of ‘In Trouble’ by Ryan Kickland herald the arrival of Charli Crawford, who steps out onto the path that leads towards the ring. Army pants, a plain black undershirt and a dark-green shemagh tied around her neck and draped over one shoulder complete her simple outfit. Her hair is tied in thick braids, with black war-paint smeared under her eyes, traveling across the bridge of her nose in a long, unbroken line.
Anderson: Coming to the ring from Hickman County, KY weighing in at 145 lbs and standing 5’5” CHARLI CRAWFORD!
Rather than soak in the reaction or work the crowd, her eyes remain focused straight ahead. She pauses for a moment, cracking her neck to both sides before taking off in a run towards the ring. Not stopping her pace as she approaches the apron, Charli leaps up and slides under the bottom rope in one fluid movement.
Sting: If Long or Sav are counting out Crawford tonight they are not doing themselves any favors. I have seen what she can do on the indy circuit and she is as legit as they come.
Rolling to her feet, she runs to the nearest corner and leaps on top of the second turnbuckle, her face a cold, emotionless mask as her eyes scan the assembled crowd. Lifting both hands to the side of her mouth, she lifts her head back and lets out a long, loud howl that rises above the din of the crowd.
Foote: Gonna take a lot for me ot love a crooked pig, so lets see if she can show me something here are Jonestown Reunion.
Dropping her arms back to her sides, she jumps backwards off the turnbuckle, both boots landing firmly on the canvas. Untying the shemagh, she pulls it free with a wide sweep of one arm, draping it over the top rope before turning around to eye down both Long and Andrews.
Foote: I have a feeling things are going to get bloody. You could cut the tension with a knife.
A sac of thumbtacks is placed in the corner behind each wrestler. The ref stands in the middle of the ring and calls for the bell.
DING! DING! DING!
Right way it’s the Savannah vs Long show, both of them throwing rights and lefts at one another completely ignoring Crawford. That ends up being a mistake as she drop kicks both her opponents as they are tied up knocking the through the middle ropes to the outside of the ring. Long and Sav get back up still intertwined, striking at one another. Crawford bounces off the and comes through the middle ropes with a suicide dive knocking both her opponentse into the barricade.
Sting: Crawford has a fire in her tonight in her CU:LT debut she has no interest in playing the third wheel here.
Foote: Clearly Savannah and Long’s former romance is adding to the passion in this one. It’s just too bad that even though she isn’t a virgin the sick team that runs this company wants her blood.
Crawford lays some boots on the side of Long’s head, pushing the sole against his face, squeezing it against the steel rail holding the audience back. Sav spins Crawford around and nails a spine buster on the outside. She grabs a handful of Long’s hair and helps him to his feet. Sav tosses Long into the ring under the bottom rope and hops up on the apron. Savannah springs off the top rope and hits a frog splash. Long holds his guts and kicks his legs as he scrambles back to a vertical base. Crawford hits Sav with a belly to back suplex and then goes on the attack kicking Long in the head a few times.
Foote: Some awesome action so far but no one has incorporated the tacks yet. C'mon the fans came to see some fucking blood.
Sting: I just hope Sav is able to stay out of the tacks knowing that the board wants her blood for some fucked up artifact.
Long starts getting the best of Crawford working her over with some shots to the stomach and ribs. He hits a shining wizard – when it has little effect – Long spins Crawford around with a spine buster. Meanwhile Sav has grabbed one of the bags of tacks and sneaks up behind Long putting the bag over his head, tacks still inside, and draws the string tight.
Foote: Now we’re finally getting violent. Lets see what this little hussy has planned.
Sting: She goes from being a virgin to being a hussy because she has a previous relationship?
Savannah hits a pele kick to the thumbtack hooded Jason Long. He swings, but doesn’t hit a damn thing running blind. A spinning heel sends Long reeling. Savannah hooks his head into her shoulder and hoists Long straight into the air holding him up for a moment shaking to get the tacks inside the bag on Long’s head evenly distributed. Sav then drops down to the mat with a brain buster.
Sting: She calls that Brain Bamage and with the tacks I know are know embedded to Long’s skull the damage has to be extensive.
1
2
3????
BROKEN UP!!!!
Foote: Savannah almost had some revenge on all the shit Long has been talking on social media. Gotta wonder if he would have got the shoulder up had Crawford not been here to break it up.
Long rolls out of the ring, the bag falling off his head to reveal a blood soaked face, three tacks stuck into his cheeks – some stuck in his facial hair as he tries to regain composure. Back in the ring Crawford is getting the best of Savannah. Crawford hits a fireman's carry slam and then wraps Sav up in a sleeperhold trying to subdue her opponent for a moment.
Sting: Crawford releases the hold. Now she has spilled those other two bags of tacks in the ring – there has to tens of thousands spread on the mat.
Crawford kicks the tacks into three huge piles. She then grabs Sav by the hips and throws her overhead with a German suplex into one pile – tacks penetrate the upper shoulders of Sav. Crawford is hooked on and brings them both to their feet, then tosses Sav overhead once more nailing the back of her neck off the second pile of tacks. Crawford lets out a scream as she pulls them again to their feet and hits the third German suplex into the last pile of tacks – them spraying up off the mat on impact. Crawford bridges for pin.
Foote: The Queen of Candyland has some of her cherry red insides leaking down her back and staining the mat.
1
2
3???????
ROPEBREAK!!!
Sting: just saved by the tips of her toes.
Foote: With her upper back looking like ground beef there might be a case that some of her shoulders are still on the mat.
Long is back in the ring now. Blood flies off his face as Crawford hits some forearms. Long responds with some a series of punches finishing off wish a palm strike that catches Crawford off guard.
Sting: You can see the silver ends of the the few tacks that have punctured Long’s cheek.
Long nails a stiff head kick on Crawford. As Crawford falls forward – Long rights her back upright with a bicycle knee to the face. He kicks Crawford in the gut, puts her head between his legs and hits a deadlift piledriver – a few of the tacks now scattered about the mat find a new home in the top of Crawford’s head.
1
2
KICKOUT!
Sting: Crawford showing some resilience and that she belongs between these two juggernauts in the sport.
Sav is back in the ring now and hits long with a Japanese arm drag – Long rolls through the tacks and onto his feet offering up an armdrag into an armbar planting Sav in a submission chestfirst on the tacks. Sav flips over through and floats through back to her feet. Both competitions are eye to eye now and Long can’t help but clap. That ovation is interrupted by a DDT from Crawford. She keeps things going by hitting Sav with a fisherman’s suplex, hooking the leg.
1
2
3?????
KICKOUT!
Foote: Crawford on a roll and she almost stole one there.
Crawford hits the mat with her first and then takes to the top rope taunting to the crowd suggesting she’s going for an elbow drop. Somehow Sav nips up and starts wacking the back of Crawford with clubbing strikes as she gets to the top turnbuckle. Sav puts her head between the legs of Crawford and hoists her up for a super electric chair drop – Long come sout of nowhere. He puts the shoulders of Sav on his thighs, puts one for on the second rope and on on the top and lifts both competitors up tumbling the human tower to the mat. Crawford takes the worst of the impact falling the furthest onto tacks in the middle of the ring. Hundreds sick into her arms and legs as Long looks on seated in the turnbuckle shocked at the chance before him. He scrambles across the ring and covers Crawford.
1
2
3!!!??????
KICKOUT!!!!!
Foote: You have got to be kidding me. This is one tough gal right here falling from that height and still able to kick out. Long might have to try his luck with putting Savannah on her back – that’s not foreign territory.
Speaking of Savannah she’s quick to leap on Long to make sure he doesn’t run away with this one. She hits some sharp elbows to the bloody face of Long. She hooks Long’s arms and hits a double underhook suplex followed by a snapmare driver. The crowd is cheering getting behind her. Sav finishes things off with a slingshot cutter – or so she thought – Long throws her backfirst into a pile of tacks once more. Sav rolls and kicks her legs in pain.
Sting: Back and forth action here, everyone has had some big moments in this one. It’s just a matter of someone slipping up and the third man not paying attention.
Crawford strikes Long with a spinning backfist. As Long hits his knees Crawford delivers a buzzsaw kick. She then grabs him by the head picking him back up and drops him down with an inverted DDT. She locks a crossface right on a pile of tacks.
Foote: Long’s chest is digging into the tacks with Crawford yankin’ back on the neck.
Sting: She doesn’t have it all though her hands are slipping with how slick Long’s face is with blood.
Behind Crawford, Sav is taking her time grabbing another bag – only what can be assumed is another fresh batch of tacks. Sav tosses the contents of the bag in the face of Crawford disorienting her….
Sting: Is that sour sugar she just threw in the face of Crawford?
Sav looks down at Long who is trying to recover from the crossface. Sav smirks, holds the bag up, and pours the sour sugar into the small cuts all along Long’s back. She stomps and grinds the coarse sugar into his skin with her boots.
Foote: What a strangely violent move by Candlady here… I didn’t expect such viciousness and it looks like Long didn’t either.
Crawford spins Sav around, but is kicked right in the guts as Savannah continues her roll. Sav picks Crawford up and drives her headfirst down into the mat with a cross-legged brainbuster.
Foote: She calls that brain freeze, now shes going for the cover.
Sting: At this point it’s impossible not to become a pin cushion everytime you hit the canvas.
1
2
3!!!!!!?????????
CURB STOMP!!!!
Sting: Oh, Long breaks it up with a Vanity Killer on Sav driving her face down into the tacks there.
Sav rolls out of the ring. Long heads to the top rope and comes off quick with a 450 splash on Crawford.
1
2
3!!!!!??????
DING! DING! DING!!!
Anderson: And the winner of this match by pinfall JASONNNNN LONNNGGGG!!!!
Sav pulls herself up the ring apron looking at Long, angered she took a loss and didn't even get pinned. They stare at each other the entire time Long’s music plays and he walks up the ramp taunting to a cheering crowd in the airplane hangar.
Sting: Something tells me this isn’t over between Savannah and Long. Great showing by Crawford here tonight as well – but she got slapped in the middle of one of wrestling’s biggest vendettas.
Foote: This looks like one arrogant son of a bitch about to make his CU:LT debut maybe a few tacks will poke some holes in that ego of his.
As the opening synthwave beat to ‘Kingslayer’ begins to play over the speakers and echoing throughout the arena as it erupts the crowd, a singular spotlight separates itself from the rest and shines down onto the entrance curtain. With the vocals from Oli Sykes kicking in, the figure of Jason Long steps out from behind the curtain to a loud ovation, with a large smile resting on his face as he stops at the top of the ramp. The King glances down onto the camera looking up towards him, a cocky smile being given towards the camera before opening up his jacket and pushing it behind him– beginning his walk down to the ring, mouthing off to the camera as he does.
Sting: Well it seems even word of Jason Long has made it to Guyana, either that or the drink supplied by CU:LT tonight is adding to the enthusiasm in the hangar.
With the lights all focusing down onto the ringside area, Jason moves along the floor and hops up onto the apron - on the side where the hardcam can get a good look at him - as he leans back against the ropes before entering through the middle ropes. Jason heads into the closest corner to him and climbs up onto the second rope, looking out into the crowd as the introduction is given.
Anderson: Introducing first… wrestling out of Wexford Town, County Wexford, Ireland and weighing in tonight at one hundred and ninety-five pounds… HE IS THE CATALYST… THE KING OF WRESTLING… THIS IS JAAAAAASSSOONNNNNNNNNNN LOOOOOONNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGG!!!!
Foote: All this teatrical bullshit, lets see if Long can hold his own here in CU:LT. There is nothing more dangerous than when an ex is involved let me tell ya from experience.
Just as his name is shouted down the microphone, Jason out-stetched his arms wide and roars out to the crowd, keeping a smile on his face as he does. He removes his leather ring jacket and throws it down to the ringside area before hopping down off of the ropes and leaning back against the turnbuckles.
Anderson: And introducing second…
The long intro of “Black Sheep” by The Clash at Demonhead begins to play through the arena. A single silhouette is seen at the top of the ramp. The silhouette is facing towards the titantron, hands clasped behind their back as they wait for the moment. The crowd claps along to the beat until Brie Larson’s voice finally fills the air and the silhouette turns around to face the ring as the arena lights come to life. Savannah Sunshine’s figure comes into view, but she is not wearing the usual grin. Instead, she's got a look full of fire and determination as she stares daggers around the arena. She doesn't pay any mind to the fans, simply makes her way towards the ring.
Sting: So much history between these past lovers who seem to want nothing more than to destroy each other's lives at this point.
Oh yeah
Oh yeah
Oh yeah
Hello again, friend of a friend
I knew you when
Our common goal was waiting for the world to end
Now that the truth is just a rule that you can bend
You crack the whip shapeshift and trick the past again
As she heads down the ramp, she ignores the hands reaching out towards her. Though, the fans still seem to show some signs of support for the True Society member. As she approaches the ring, she walks over to the steel steps, climbing them until she meets the center of the ring apron. As she meets the center, she scrapes her boots, before climbing over the middle rope and into the ring. The clear change in demeanor is evident as Savannah seems to be in no mood.
Foote: You can see the glare of Savannah piercing Long. It is going to be awkward for Crawford to have to play third wheel.
I’ll send you my love on a wire
Lift you up every time
Everyone, ooh
Pulls away, ooh
From you
Anderson: Making her way to the ring, hailing from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania ... weighing in at one hundred and twenty pounds … She is The Angel of Death ... Breaker of Chains … SAVANNAH AAANNNDDDRRREEEWWWSSS!
With the announcer making her presence known officially, Savannah moves away from the corner and out to the center of the ring. She drops to her knees, wolf's head still on her head, and palms press against the canvas. For the first time, her eyes are seen and they are golden and bright enough to notice. She drops her head back, letting out a loud howl, before she pops up to her feet. Wolf's head slowly removed and handed to someone at ringside.
Anderson: And the final member of this thumbtack triple threat…
A strumming guitar plays over the sound system, as the first seconds of ‘In Trouble’ by Ryan Kickland herald the arrival of Charli Crawford, who steps out onto the path that leads towards the ring. Army pants, a plain black undershirt and a dark-green shemagh tied around her neck and draped over one shoulder complete her simple outfit. Her hair is tied in thick braids, with black war-paint smeared under her eyes, traveling across the bridge of her nose in a long, unbroken line.
Anderson: Coming to the ring from Hickman County, KY weighing in at 145 lbs and standing 5’5” CHARLI CRAWFORD!
Rather than soak in the reaction or work the crowd, her eyes remain focused straight ahead. She pauses for a moment, cracking her neck to both sides before taking off in a run towards the ring. Not stopping her pace as she approaches the apron, Charli leaps up and slides under the bottom rope in one fluid movement.
Sting: If Long or Sav are counting out Crawford tonight they are not doing themselves any favors. I have seen what she can do on the indy circuit and she is as legit as they come.
Rolling to her feet, she runs to the nearest corner and leaps on top of the second turnbuckle, her face a cold, emotionless mask as her eyes scan the assembled crowd. Lifting both hands to the side of her mouth, she lifts her head back and lets out a long, loud howl that rises above the din of the crowd.
Foote: Gonna take a lot for me ot love a crooked pig, so lets see if she can show me something here are Jonestown Reunion.
Dropping her arms back to her sides, she jumps backwards off the turnbuckle, both boots landing firmly on the canvas. Untying the shemagh, she pulls it free with a wide sweep of one arm, draping it over the top rope before turning around to eye down both Long and Andrews.
Foote: I have a feeling things are going to get bloody. You could cut the tension with a knife.
A sac of thumbtacks is placed in the corner behind each wrestler. The ref stands in the middle of the ring and calls for the bell.
DING! DING! DING!
Right way it’s the Savannah vs Long show, both of them throwing rights and lefts at one another completely ignoring Crawford. That ends up being a mistake as she drop kicks both her opponents as they are tied up knocking the through the middle ropes to the outside of the ring. Long and Sav get back up still intertwined, striking at one another. Crawford bounces off the and comes through the middle ropes with a suicide dive knocking both her opponentse into the barricade.
Sting: Crawford has a fire in her tonight in her CU:LT debut she has no interest in playing the third wheel here.
Foote: Clearly Savannah and Long’s former romance is adding to the passion in this one. It’s just too bad that even though she isn’t a virgin the sick team that runs this company wants her blood.
Crawford lays some boots on the side of Long’s head, pushing the sole against his face, squeezing it against the steel rail holding the audience back. Sav spins Crawford around and nails a spine buster on the outside. She grabs a handful of Long’s hair and helps him to his feet. Sav tosses Long into the ring under the bottom rope and hops up on the apron. Savannah springs off the top rope and hits a frog splash. Long holds his guts and kicks his legs as he scrambles back to a vertical base. Crawford hits Sav with a belly to back suplex and then goes on the attack kicking Long in the head a few times.
Foote: Some awesome action so far but no one has incorporated the tacks yet. C'mon the fans came to see some fucking blood.
Sting: I just hope Sav is able to stay out of the tacks knowing that the board wants her blood for some fucked up artifact.
Long starts getting the best of Crawford working her over with some shots to the stomach and ribs. He hits a shining wizard – when it has little effect – Long spins Crawford around with a spine buster. Meanwhile Sav has grabbed one of the bags of tacks and sneaks up behind Long putting the bag over his head, tacks still inside, and draws the string tight.
Foote: Now we’re finally getting violent. Lets see what this little hussy has planned.
Sting: She goes from being a virgin to being a hussy because she has a previous relationship?
Savannah hits a pele kick to the thumbtack hooded Jason Long. He swings, but doesn’t hit a damn thing running blind. A spinning heel sends Long reeling. Savannah hooks his head into her shoulder and hoists Long straight into the air holding him up for a moment shaking to get the tacks inside the bag on Long’s head evenly distributed. Sav then drops down to the mat with a brain buster.
Sting: She calls that Brain Bamage and with the tacks I know are know embedded to Long’s skull the damage has to be extensive.
1
2
3????
BROKEN UP!!!!
Foote: Savannah almost had some revenge on all the shit Long has been talking on social media. Gotta wonder if he would have got the shoulder up had Crawford not been here to break it up.
Long rolls out of the ring, the bag falling off his head to reveal a blood soaked face, three tacks stuck into his cheeks – some stuck in his facial hair as he tries to regain composure. Back in the ring Crawford is getting the best of Savannah. Crawford hits a fireman's carry slam and then wraps Sav up in a sleeperhold trying to subdue her opponent for a moment.
Sting: Crawford releases the hold. Now she has spilled those other two bags of tacks in the ring – there has to tens of thousands spread on the mat.
Crawford kicks the tacks into three huge piles. She then grabs Sav by the hips and throws her overhead with a German suplex into one pile – tacks penetrate the upper shoulders of Sav. Crawford is hooked on and brings them both to their feet, then tosses Sav overhead once more nailing the back of her neck off the second pile of tacks. Crawford lets out a scream as she pulls them again to their feet and hits the third German suplex into the last pile of tacks – them spraying up off the mat on impact. Crawford bridges for pin.
Foote: The Queen of Candyland has some of her cherry red insides leaking down her back and staining the mat.
1
2
3???????
ROPEBREAK!!!
Sting: just saved by the tips of her toes.
Foote: With her upper back looking like ground beef there might be a case that some of her shoulders are still on the mat.
Long is back in the ring now. Blood flies off his face as Crawford hits some forearms. Long responds with some a series of punches finishing off wish a palm strike that catches Crawford off guard.
Sting: You can see the silver ends of the the few tacks that have punctured Long’s cheek.
Long nails a stiff head kick on Crawford. As Crawford falls forward – Long rights her back upright with a bicycle knee to the face. He kicks Crawford in the gut, puts her head between his legs and hits a deadlift piledriver – a few of the tacks now scattered about the mat find a new home in the top of Crawford’s head.
1
2
KICKOUT!
Sting: Crawford showing some resilience and that she belongs between these two juggernauts in the sport.
Sav is back in the ring now and hits long with a Japanese arm drag – Long rolls through the tacks and onto his feet offering up an armdrag into an armbar planting Sav in a submission chestfirst on the tacks. Sav flips over through and floats through back to her feet. Both competitions are eye to eye now and Long can’t help but clap. That ovation is interrupted by a DDT from Crawford. She keeps things going by hitting Sav with a fisherman’s suplex, hooking the leg.
1
2
3?????
KICKOUT!
Foote: Crawford on a roll and she almost stole one there.
Crawford hits the mat with her first and then takes to the top rope taunting to the crowd suggesting she’s going for an elbow drop. Somehow Sav nips up and starts wacking the back of Crawford with clubbing strikes as she gets to the top turnbuckle. Sav puts her head between the legs of Crawford and hoists her up for a super electric chair drop – Long come sout of nowhere. He puts the shoulders of Sav on his thighs, puts one for on the second rope and on on the top and lifts both competitors up tumbling the human tower to the mat. Crawford takes the worst of the impact falling the furthest onto tacks in the middle of the ring. Hundreds sick into her arms and legs as Long looks on seated in the turnbuckle shocked at the chance before him. He scrambles across the ring and covers Crawford.
1
2
3!!!??????
KICKOUT!!!!!
Foote: You have got to be kidding me. This is one tough gal right here falling from that height and still able to kick out. Long might have to try his luck with putting Savannah on her back – that’s not foreign territory.
Speaking of Savannah she’s quick to leap on Long to make sure he doesn’t run away with this one. She hits some sharp elbows to the bloody face of Long. She hooks Long’s arms and hits a double underhook suplex followed by a snapmare driver. The crowd is cheering getting behind her. Sav finishes things off with a slingshot cutter – or so she thought – Long throws her backfirst into a pile of tacks once more. Sav rolls and kicks her legs in pain.
Sting: Back and forth action here, everyone has had some big moments in this one. It’s just a matter of someone slipping up and the third man not paying attention.
Crawford strikes Long with a spinning backfist. As Long hits his knees Crawford delivers a buzzsaw kick. She then grabs him by the head picking him back up and drops him down with an inverted DDT. She locks a crossface right on a pile of tacks.
Foote: Long’s chest is digging into the tacks with Crawford yankin’ back on the neck.
Sting: She doesn’t have it all though her hands are slipping with how slick Long’s face is with blood.
Behind Crawford, Sav is taking her time grabbing another bag – only what can be assumed is another fresh batch of tacks. Sav tosses the contents of the bag in the face of Crawford disorienting her….
Sting: Is that sour sugar she just threw in the face of Crawford?
Sav looks down at Long who is trying to recover from the crossface. Sav smirks, holds the bag up, and pours the sour sugar into the small cuts all along Long’s back. She stomps and grinds the coarse sugar into his skin with her boots.
Foote: What a strangely violent move by Candlady here… I didn’t expect such viciousness and it looks like Long didn’t either.
Crawford spins Sav around, but is kicked right in the guts as Savannah continues her roll. Sav picks Crawford up and drives her headfirst down into the mat with a cross-legged brainbuster.
Foote: She calls that brain freeze, now shes going for the cover.
Sting: At this point it’s impossible not to become a pin cushion everytime you hit the canvas.
1
2
3!!!!!!?????????
CURB STOMP!!!!
Sting: Oh, Long breaks it up with a Vanity Killer on Sav driving her face down into the tacks there.
Sav rolls out of the ring. Long heads to the top rope and comes off quick with a 450 splash on Crawford.
1
2
3!!!!!??????
DING! DING! DING!!!
Anderson: And the winner of this match by pinfall JASONNNNN LONNNGGGG!!!!
Sav pulls herself up the ring apron looking at Long, angered she took a loss and didn't even get pinned. They stare at each other the entire time Long’s music plays and he walks up the ramp taunting to a cheering crowd in the airplane hangar.
Sting: Something tells me this isn’t over between Savannah and Long. Great showing by Crawford here tonight as well – but she got slapped in the middle of one of wrestling’s biggest vendettas.
Bash Daddy drops a pile of bloody white rags on Casanova's desk used to clean up from the thumbtack triple threat and started ringing them out into a jar, blood slowly pooling at the bottom.
English: I've got some of Savannah Andrews' blood, but I tell you again she is not a virgin in fact I know she has slept with roster member Jason Long in the past.
Casanova says into the phone to the shareholder on the other end.
Shareholder: No matter, no matter. It will do. She still remains as one of the pure souls on this sad roster. Now you have the blood I need you to get your friend Voodoo involved.
English shakes his head speaking into the cell once more.
English: What do you want Voodoo to do here?
Shareholder: In one of the lockers in the back there is a Ouija board. I want Voodoo to smear the blood of our CU:LT members upon it and bless it.
English tries to wrap his head around what is going on -- but he knew Voodoo of all people wouldn't have any issues playing with human blood and using it to make a Ouija board... to her it'd just be another Monday night.
English: I've got some of Savannah Andrews' blood, but I tell you again she is not a virgin in fact I know she has slept with roster member Jason Long in the past.
Casanova says into the phone to the shareholder on the other end.
Shareholder: No matter, no matter. It will do. She still remains as one of the pure souls on this sad roster. Now you have the blood I need you to get your friend Voodoo involved.
English shakes his head speaking into the cell once more.
English: What do you want Voodoo to do here?
Shareholder: In one of the lockers in the back there is a Ouija board. I want Voodoo to smear the blood of our CU:LT members upon it and bless it.
English tries to wrap his head around what is going on -- but he knew Voodoo of all people wouldn't have any issues playing with human blood and using it to make a Ouija board... to her it'd just be another Monday night.
A rocket drops from the bottom of the big screen to the stage and there is a countdown voice over from 5 which fans count down to the pod door opens and Eye In The Sky by The Alan Parsons Project hits – Ace Sky walks out in an aviator jacket and his usual in ring attire.
Anderson: Weighing in at 185lbs standing 5'8" from Houston Texas… ACE SKY!
Sting: Ace was on the losing end of the first match ever in CU:LT and he’s going to try to redeem himself here tonight.
Foote: He gotta stop what that flippy hippy bullshit if he wants a win, learn to rip a few limbs off kid.
Ace salutes a peace sign and jogs down the aisle way high-fiving as many fans as possible on both sides then he dashes forward leaps upon the apron and flings himself in with a front flip followed by a series of three front handsprings and a rolling savate kick.
Foote: I know Ace’s opponent is just as hungry for a win.
The lights on the stage go out, as a cling sound like coins being tossed in the air is heard. The screen begins to flicker, as a man is showing walking through a forest, tossing three gold coins in the air. He follows a path carrying the coins and a lantern. A woman stands towards the end of his path, as she turns to him. She keeps her head down, as the man offers her the coins, she inspects them, as she looks down as he begins to kneel. She places her hand on his shoulder as the screen shuts off, and the two appear on the stage, the song begins playing, as Legion turns to the crowd, placing the gold coins in her chest, Mister J standing behind her.
Wolves asleep amidst the trees
Bats all a swaying in the breeze
But one soul lies anxious wide awake
Fearing no* manner of ghouls, hags and wraiths
For your dolly Polly sleep has flown
Anderson: And his opponent... standing 5'9" weighing in at 143lbs from Tokyo, Japan.... LEGION!
Sting: Legion is a terrifying presence. I don’t know how Ace is standing there so still…
Legion begins her slow walk down from the top of the apron, as she sways with the music her eyes glowing in the dark. She looks up into the ring where there is no one awaiting her, as she makes her way to the bottom, turning slowly as the beat begins to pick up.
Foote: She has some work to do to get in the win column here tonight, but at Mason Family Values she did make her presence felt by getting rid of Wendigo. We haven’t seen that freakshow in the company sense.
Don't dare let her tremble alone
For the witcher, heartless, cold
Paid in coin of gold
He comes he'll go leave naught behind
But heartache and woe
Deep, deep woe
Sting: It’ll be great to see how these styles match up in the ring.
As she climbs the stairs, she slowly slides into the ring, with red spotlights on her. She cackles slightly, as she looks around. She then slowly backs into a corner sitting down, staring up the ramp as Mister J makes his way to ringside as the music cuts out.
DING! DING! DING!
Ace Sky kicks it off by kicking Legion in the shin with a sliding baseball dropkick. Ace comes off the ropes with a bulldog slamming Legion’s face to the mat. He then closelines his opponent over the top rope – rings to the opposite side of the ring then toward the ropes where Legion is soaring over them with a corkscrew crossbody. The crowd pops as it connects perfectly – then Ace comes off the rail separating the crowd with a moonsault onto his downed opponent. He picks Legion up and throws her under the bottom rope…
Sky: C’mon!
Sting: Some vast improvement in Sky’s game since his last match. One thing hasn’t changed, he knows how to get off to a quick start.
Ace taunt to to the crowd and leaps off the top rope springing into the ring only to be picking out of mid-air with a dropkick from Legion. She picks Ace Sky up and throws him back down quick with a powerslam. Legion plants the bottom of her boot on the side of Sky’s face and twists dragging it along his cheek.
Foote: I’m seeing a mean streak right down Legion’s back tonight. We haven’t seen Wendigo since she tossed her through the skybox windows at Manson Family Values and she’s turning into a cold blooded killer here in CU:LT.
Sting: She might not have picked up the win against Nightmare at the last event, but clearly she has learning a thing or two and is adapting to the CU:LT style.
Legion stays on the attack with a pumphandle suplex. She grabs Sky and nails a fisherman’s neckbreaker hooking the leg.
1
KICKOUT!
Sting: Ace might look like it right now, but I know he is more prepared than he was at Manson Family Values when Serena Riot was a last minute replacement and managed to pick up a win over him.
Foote: Well he don’t look too prepared right now he is taking an ass kickin’.
Mister J claps his hands on the outside trying to encourage his client. Legion smirks and pulls Sky up to his feet once more. She hits three blistering knife edge chops then swings Ace to the ropes as he comes off she spins him around with a tilt-a-whirl gut buster…
Sting: Ace transitions that into a DDT.
Sky comes off the ropes planting his knees into the shoulders of a kneeling Legion, he lays a flurry of strikes before hopping back to his feet for a brief second before coming back down on top of his opponent with a standing moonsault.
1
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KICKOUT!!!!
Foote: There we go, some proof Ace is learnin’.
Legion springs to her feet, but Ace has it perfectly times to come off the top turnbuckle with a moonsault tornado DDT that awes the audience. Ace hits a standing shooting star press then is out on the apron, he springs off the top rope and hits a 450 frog splash. The crowd is in frenzy as Sky takes to the well sky once more. He is up on the ring post waiting for Legion to get up when she does he comes off with a meteora plating his two knees into his opponent's shoulders brining her down to the mat.
Sting: Ace is really on a roll here, we’re going to see the guy’s entire moveset before the night is through.
Ace is up to the opposite top corner now and comes off with leaping forearm directly to the chest Legion. He makes a quick cover.
1
2
3????!!!!!!
KICKOUT!
Foote: You can see the frustration build in Ace, he’s pushin’ his limit here trying to his all these unique big moves. Sure they look great for the crowd – but they just ain’t getting the job done kid.
Ace stomps Legion trying to keep her on the mat. He then helps her to her feet and executes a half-nelson pumphandle driver to lay Legion out. He climbs to the top rope.
Sting: He is signaling for his Galaxy Leap finisher, this might just be enough to put Legion away.
Ace comes off the ropes with a picture perfect shooting star press – but on the rotation Legion spits a fountain of black mist up from the ground blinding Ace on the way through. He still manages to land on his feet – but he swinging blind right into an arm bar.
Foote: What a counter by Legion there. Now she has Deep Woe locked in.
Ace is kicking and trying to break free, he floats over, but Legion rolls with him, driving her arm down into the shoulder blade even deeper and pulling back. Ace decides he needs to keep his limb and fight another day. He reluctantly taps out. Legion lets go right away.
DING! DING! DING!
Sting: She has done it, what a finish there by Legion. Ace Sky had control a lot of this match, but Legion waited for a mistake – an opening – and took complete advantage.
Anderson: The winner of this match LEGION!
Legion steps between the ropes and joins a grinning Mister J on the outside. They walk to the back as Legion’s theme music plays. The crowd cheers, some chanting for Ace Sky as he wipes the black mist and the look of disappointment from his face.
Bibi can't believe his eyes the people around him in a complete trance as they are being sucked into the action int he ring all the while lapping back this purple drink. Bibi Persaud we halfway though his first glass, but he could feel a buzzing in his brain a want -- no a need to scream out and cheer.
The pooling blood added to the kaleidoscope of vivid colors entering his eye sockets.
Old Local: This is the best thing I have ever seen. This is completely memorizing. This is something the youth of Guyana can get into. This could be the future of the country.
It wasn't just that comment Bibi was hearing, he was hearing crazy shit from his fellow country men. People who wanted to do this now after seeing three people use themselves as pin cushions and the thirst grew -- even in Bibi himself. He slugged another gulp of the purple drank -- his pupils dilating as he looks to the stage for the next wood be hero or villain to make their entrance.
The pooling blood added to the kaleidoscope of vivid colors entering his eye sockets.
Old Local: This is the best thing I have ever seen. This is completely memorizing. This is something the youth of Guyana can get into. This could be the future of the country.
It wasn't just that comment Bibi was hearing, he was hearing crazy shit from his fellow country men. People who wanted to do this now after seeing three people use themselves as pin cushions and the thirst grew -- even in Bibi himself. He slugged another gulp of the purple drank -- his pupils dilating as he looks to the stage for the next wood be hero or villain to make their entrance.
w"Dead Bite" by Hollywood Undead blasts out on the stage speakers. Once the guitar riffs begin to form, Max comes out with his hooded jacket zipped up tight -- his SNUFF Championship over his shoulder. He's also wearing the custom Reebok Ex-Oh-Fit Pure Platinum Hi-Daemons shoes!
Sting: One of the first champions this company has had. It'll be tough to hold onto tonight -- we only got a taste of how much of a killer JD Driftwood is at Manson Family Values.
Max holds his hands apart, making them into finger guns. As he points them towards the sky, fireworks go off on his left and right. Max gives off a faux "shot" with the finger guns, making a huge firework blast go off behind him. He stares towards the ring, nodding his head and focusing intently on what's ahead. He ignores any of the fans trying touch him, male or female. The look on his face is one more of apathy than annoyance or anger.
Anderson: The following contest is a TIAPEI DEATHMATCH FOR THE SNUFF CHAMPIONSHIP. On his way to the ring. Currently residing in a version of San Mateo, CA. Weighing in at 180 lbs. He...is Max...DAEMON!
Once Max reaches ringside, he looks at the two small long pedestals with a pile of glass atop. Max dips his wrapped hands in glue, then crunches it into the glass sticking shards to his hands.
Foote; This one is going to be absoluly brutal. Every shot is going to cut open the opponent. Max doesn't use many weapons... so English turned the mans hand's into weapons.
Max takes the steps up onto the apron. He falls in between the top and middle ropes, rolling through and landing on his feet. He throws a finger gun to the camera, "shooting" it off before walking back and jumping onto a nearby middle rope. He gives a quick finger gun "shot" off to the crowd before hopping into the ring, ready for the fight to come.
Anderson: And the challenger, coming to the ring standing 6’0 and weighing 300lbs, from Key West, Florida JD DRIFTWOODDDD!
"Symbol of Nevermore" By Superjoint Ritual hits and JD Driftwood walks out from behind the curtain and stomps toward the ring to a mixed reaction.
Foote: He's going to carve up this pixely looking bitch here tonight Sting and I am going to lover ever single second of it.
Driftwood can't help but grin as he dips his wrapped hands in the glue and applies the glass. JD walks up the steps and through the middle rope. He spits on the canvas looking across the ring at Daemon as JJ Huffman holds up the SNUFF Championship.
Ding! Ding! Ding!
Daemon and Driftwood show absolutely no intimidation. Both of them show not a shred of fear as they jaw at one another meeting in the center of the ring. JD laughs pushing Max back and then offers his up the first shot. He holds his jaw out and Max gives it everything he has with a right hand to the face. Little bits of glass implant in Driftwood’s cheek as it is broken open – tiny little streams of blood already flowing as JD shouts an enthusiastic ‘wooo.’
Foote: The man loves this fuckin’ shit and he’s in his element here tonight.
Daemon does a courtesy and offers Driftwood up a shot to even the score. He holds his hands behind his back nodding his head for JD to kick things off – get the blood flowing – and get this match really started. Driftwood pops him with a right hand of his own. JD’s strike catches Max under the eye causing a gash at the top of his cheek.
Sting: This one is going to be fucking disgusting. Both these men are going to be picking up pieces of flesh on their glass laced hands every time they make an impact.
JD pushes Max back now with chops with the back of his hand just shredding up Daemon’s chest. JD put’s Max in a full nelson, then hoists him up and slams him back first onto the mat. JD mounts Max and starts hitting a flurry of strikes cutting up the champion’s face bad.
Foote: JD is taking it to Max. Daemon’s good and all and he’s our champ for sure, but the fella can’t even crack the top ten in that Action Figure Wrestling company or whatever.
Driftwood helps Max to his feet. He puts Daemon in a headlock grinding the glass laced hands across his head before hitting a running bulldog. Max gets up and responds with a wild haymaker that Driftwood ducks – grabbing the arm and pulling Max in for a chicken wing suplex.
Sting: This right here is more JD’s wheelhouse. That match with Owen was a test to see if he could put this deathmatch shit behind him a bit and be what the mainstream wrestling community calls a classic or pure wrestler.
Foote: I bet his daddy beat his ass for draggin’ the Driftwood family name losing to baby faced Owen there.
Driftwood sits on Max’s back putting his back over the second rope. JD leans over the top and stars driving his glass covered knuckles into the forehead of Max Daemon as several in the front row boo at the brutal display. JD licks the blood off his hand. He then goes back to town laying strike after strike into the skull of Daemon.
Sting: I think someone in the front just puked… hell I almost did. Death match wrestling is one thing, but the way JD loves violence is just kind of stomach turning.
Foote: I wouldn’t be surprised if he jerked off with that glass covered palm at the end of the night.
Driftwood lets Max recover only to hit him with a pumphalde driver. JD hooks the leg of the current SNUFF Champion.
Sting: Psycho Holiday by Driftwood and it could be a short title reign for Daemon.
1
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3!!!???
KICKOUT!!!
Foote: Almost had a new champ right there.
Driftwood grabs a handful of Daemon’s hair –- but he fights back hitting the gut of JD with strikes on the way to his feet. Daemon kicks Driftwood right between the legs, pops him right in the dick causing him to lean over.
Sting: I guess anything is legal.
Max puts JD back straight by nailing an uppercut scraping the glass underneath the chin of JD. Both men are bleeding all over the mat at this point. Daemon lands a back elbow, then a superkick, but JD doesn’t go down. Daemon kicks Driftwood in the back of the leg dropping him down – he follows it up with a harsh knee smearing the blood across JD’s face. Daemon comes off the ropes and nails a knee strike to the back of JD’s head.
Foote: He calls that ebony and ivory, but I am hoping I’m about to call it not good enough.
1
2
3!!!????
KICKOUT!!!!
Sting: JD still in this one. He is one tough bastard, even in the match with Owen at Manson Family Values his shoulders were barely on the mat for three seconds and it's hard to say if that match went any longer who would have walked out a champion that night.
Driftwood takes some shots to the gut as Max pulls him back to a vertical base. Max nails a super kick, but JD doesn’t fall, just wobbles. Max springs off the second rope with a cross body but JD catches the little bastard and slams him down across his knee with a gut buster. JD uses his weight advantage and tosses Max over head with a fall away slam.
Foote: There you go JD, toss that motherfucker across the ring.
Driftwood goes back to his day job rubbing his glass covered fist across the forehead of Max once more, blood is literally gushing from the SNUFF Champion’s skull, a small flap of flesh hangs the camera crew is keen to zoom in on – you can hear the squeamish members of the audiences stomachs turn all at once.
Foote: He’s carving up a masterpiece out there.
Max throws his head back catching JD in the nose knocking him loose. Max gets up and yell some shit at JD before laying in a chops to the chest, JD responds with a pimp slap and grabs him and hits a backdrop backbreaker.
Sting: Dimebag Drop! Max has lost a lot of blood and Driftwood goes for the cover.
1
2
3!!!???
KICKOUT!!!!!!
Foote: The SNUFF Champ is proving why this belt belongs around his waist. He is one tough son of a bitch… he has to be earning a bit of Driftwood’s respect.
Max up kicks JD pushing him back, he springs to his feet and starts laying rights and lefts cutting up each side of JD’s forehead – chipping through old thin scar tissues. JD is covered in a mask of his own blood quickly.
Sting: Max showing his fighting spirit, both men aiming to shorten the other's career here tonight at Jonestown Reunion.
Max hits a back driver suplex. He pulls JD back up quick – Driftwood fights back with rights and lefts, but Daemon stops him with a dropkick sending JD between the ropes and onto the apron. As he stands Max comes flying over the top rope with a sunset flip powerbomb. JD soars backwards off the apron and down onto one of the stands holding the glass. It drives into his back, shards sticking in leaving a huge circle sized would… his blood is already a deep deep red.
Foote: HOLY FUCK! I did not see that coming. Driftwood literally has shards of glass sticking out between his shoulder blades.
Max doesn’t give a fuck and stomps on the wound cracking the tips off some of the glass. Daemon tosses Driftwood under the bottom rope and back into the ring. Max holds Driftwood in a standing dragon sleeper. He then leaps and drags JD down with a backstabber while still in the dragon sleeper.
Sting: That’s one of his finishers Devil Trigger!
1
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3!!!????
KICKOUT!!!!
Foote: JD gets the shoulders up but at what cost, he has dug that glass deeper into his back.
As Driftwood rolls onto his stomach, Daemon drops a pointed elbow down into the wound on his back. Daemon drives the knee hard down into the open hole moving it around trying to open up Driftwood even more.
Sting: This is disgusting, these two men are literally tearing one another apart.
Driftwood shifts out of the maneuver, rolling Max over and mounting him laying down a few strikes turing the tide. He nails the jaw of Daemon with a stiff kick then stomps his head against the mat five or six times before stepping on it.
Foote: Nothing fancy here tonight. Look at this, a seasoned deathmatch veteran. Driftwood is now unrolling some of the wrapping to extend the glass down his arm. He’s lining up Max and… oh a closeline nearly rips the man’s head off. Pez Dispsneser from JD fucking Driftwood – a god damn glass laced one.
1
2
3????!!!!!!!
KICKOUT!!!!
Sting: Max is not wanting to let go of the SNUFF Championship. He is proving right now he is cut out for this deathmatch shit as much as JD is.
Driftwood slams his fist into the mat. He grabs Daemon up calling him a dumb son of a bitch as he throws Max out of the ring. JD grabs Daemon by the back of the head, he wipes the blood from his eyes forcing him to look at him. Then JD pushes Daemon’s face into the glue on the small mantle outside of the ring, then is slams Max’s face down into the other pile of glass. Max comes up wearing an entire mask of glass – blood caught behind it as the crowd gasps at the violence before them.
Foote: Holy fuck, innovation there by Driftwood… he just gave Max a glass mask and he’s not done dishing out the punishment.
JD pulls a steel chair out from under the ring, he lines up Max and swings as hard as he can cracking his opponent in the face and head – little bits of glass sparkling though the arena lights as they find a home somewhere in the crowd from the impact.
Sting: This title is going to lead to a human rights issue.
Driftwood throws Max under the ropes and back into the ring, he covers and JJ Huffman leaps into position.
1
2
3!!!?????
KICKOUT!!!!
Foote: He is going to have to kill Max to take the SNUFF Championship.
Sting: JD Driftwood has had enough. He now has two chairs in the center of the ring facing one another and he’s seated waiting for Max to come to.
Max get up and sees JD inviting him to sit down in front of him – and he does. They sit across from one another and punch the fuck out of eachother – shot for shot. Glass driving into the cheek and jaw of both competitors. JD hits three sharp jabs, Max leaps forward and drags Driftwood’s face down into the base of the chair he was sitting on with a complete shot.
Sting: Max going a scary place now as he hops out of the ring, trying to keep the glass out of his eyes. He’s grabbed a handful of glass.
Max takes that handful of glass and shoves it into the mouth of JD Driftwood. He’s on his knees and Max comes off the ropes and drives a knee into the face of Driftwood. A small portion of glass sticks out of one of JD’s cheeks as Max makes the cover.
1
2
3?????!!!!!!
KICKOUT!!!!!
Foote: This is crazy. I know JD can take a lot of punishment, but these two boys are going to murder eachother tonight.
Max can’t believe it. He’s lost a lot of blood and is groggy getting to his feet. He pulls JD up and once again they duke it out, chops, kicks, punches, forearms — they are tossing it all slower than normal –- both men completely exhausted. Suddenly, Driftwood hocks a glass laced loogie into the eyes of Max knocking him back, forcing him to try and pick glass from his eye lids –- hard to do with glass covered hands and face…
Foote: Fuck JD’s dad’s Cutter used to chew on beer glasses to get pussy after shows.
Sting: Classy… no respect by JD of Max here.
Somehow Max kicks JD in the gut, he hooks JD for a second Devil Trigger – JD breaks free grabbing the arms of Max and hooking them up – he clips Max around and drops him on his skull with a vertebreaker.
Foote: FULL ON HEADER!
1
2
3!!!!?????
DING! DING! DING!!!!
Anderson: The winner of this match and NEW SNUFF CHAMPION JD DRIFTWOOD!!!!!
Sting: for better or worse I will never ever forget the match I just saw here tonight. Both of these men left every single thing they had out there in the ring.
Driftwood holds up his newly won SNUFF Championship as JJ Huffman raises his hand. Driftwood yanks his hand back jawing at Huffman as he steps between the ropes and carries his championship to the back.
Foote: JD Driftwood holding this championship means all is right in the world. It truly legitimizes this company.
Sting: JD Driftwood wouldn’t even be a marketable face for god damn urinal cakes.
As Max stands up shaking his head pieces of glass flying loose from his face the crowd claps and cheers with an absolutely earth shattering show of ovation for the battle Max Daemon just put on before them.
Sting: There is one thing damn sure about Max Daemon. If he doesn’t win the match he sure as hell steals the show. That match is going to be a tough one to follow.
Sting: One of the first champions this company has had. It'll be tough to hold onto tonight -- we only got a taste of how much of a killer JD Driftwood is at Manson Family Values.
Max holds his hands apart, making them into finger guns. As he points them towards the sky, fireworks go off on his left and right. Max gives off a faux "shot" with the finger guns, making a huge firework blast go off behind him. He stares towards the ring, nodding his head and focusing intently on what's ahead. He ignores any of the fans trying touch him, male or female. The look on his face is one more of apathy than annoyance or anger.
Anderson: The following contest is a TIAPEI DEATHMATCH FOR THE SNUFF CHAMPIONSHIP. On his way to the ring. Currently residing in a version of San Mateo, CA. Weighing in at 180 lbs. He...is Max...DAEMON!
Once Max reaches ringside, he looks at the two small long pedestals with a pile of glass atop. Max dips his wrapped hands in glue, then crunches it into the glass sticking shards to his hands.
Foote; This one is going to be absoluly brutal. Every shot is going to cut open the opponent. Max doesn't use many weapons... so English turned the mans hand's into weapons.
Max takes the steps up onto the apron. He falls in between the top and middle ropes, rolling through and landing on his feet. He throws a finger gun to the camera, "shooting" it off before walking back and jumping onto a nearby middle rope. He gives a quick finger gun "shot" off to the crowd before hopping into the ring, ready for the fight to come.
Anderson: And the challenger, coming to the ring standing 6’0 and weighing 300lbs, from Key West, Florida JD DRIFTWOODDDD!
"Symbol of Nevermore" By Superjoint Ritual hits and JD Driftwood walks out from behind the curtain and stomps toward the ring to a mixed reaction.
Foote: He's going to carve up this pixely looking bitch here tonight Sting and I am going to lover ever single second of it.
Driftwood can't help but grin as he dips his wrapped hands in the glue and applies the glass. JD walks up the steps and through the middle rope. He spits on the canvas looking across the ring at Daemon as JJ Huffman holds up the SNUFF Championship.
Ding! Ding! Ding!
Daemon and Driftwood show absolutely no intimidation. Both of them show not a shred of fear as they jaw at one another meeting in the center of the ring. JD laughs pushing Max back and then offers his up the first shot. He holds his jaw out and Max gives it everything he has with a right hand to the face. Little bits of glass implant in Driftwood’s cheek as it is broken open – tiny little streams of blood already flowing as JD shouts an enthusiastic ‘wooo.’
Foote: The man loves this fuckin’ shit and he’s in his element here tonight.
Daemon does a courtesy and offers Driftwood up a shot to even the score. He holds his hands behind his back nodding his head for JD to kick things off – get the blood flowing – and get this match really started. Driftwood pops him with a right hand of his own. JD’s strike catches Max under the eye causing a gash at the top of his cheek.
Sting: This one is going to be fucking disgusting. Both these men are going to be picking up pieces of flesh on their glass laced hands every time they make an impact.
JD pushes Max back now with chops with the back of his hand just shredding up Daemon’s chest. JD put’s Max in a full nelson, then hoists him up and slams him back first onto the mat. JD mounts Max and starts hitting a flurry of strikes cutting up the champion’s face bad.
Foote: JD is taking it to Max. Daemon’s good and all and he’s our champ for sure, but the fella can’t even crack the top ten in that Action Figure Wrestling company or whatever.
Driftwood helps Max to his feet. He puts Daemon in a headlock grinding the glass laced hands across his head before hitting a running bulldog. Max gets up and responds with a wild haymaker that Driftwood ducks – grabbing the arm and pulling Max in for a chicken wing suplex.
Sting: This right here is more JD’s wheelhouse. That match with Owen was a test to see if he could put this deathmatch shit behind him a bit and be what the mainstream wrestling community calls a classic or pure wrestler.
Foote: I bet his daddy beat his ass for draggin’ the Driftwood family name losing to baby faced Owen there.
Driftwood sits on Max’s back putting his back over the second rope. JD leans over the top and stars driving his glass covered knuckles into the forehead of Max Daemon as several in the front row boo at the brutal display. JD licks the blood off his hand. He then goes back to town laying strike after strike into the skull of Daemon.
Sting: I think someone in the front just puked… hell I almost did. Death match wrestling is one thing, but the way JD loves violence is just kind of stomach turning.
Foote: I wouldn’t be surprised if he jerked off with that glass covered palm at the end of the night.
Driftwood lets Max recover only to hit him with a pumphalde driver. JD hooks the leg of the current SNUFF Champion.
Sting: Psycho Holiday by Driftwood and it could be a short title reign for Daemon.
1
2
3!!!???
KICKOUT!!!
Foote: Almost had a new champ right there.
Driftwood grabs a handful of Daemon’s hair –- but he fights back hitting the gut of JD with strikes on the way to his feet. Daemon kicks Driftwood right between the legs, pops him right in the dick causing him to lean over.
Sting: I guess anything is legal.
Max puts JD back straight by nailing an uppercut scraping the glass underneath the chin of JD. Both men are bleeding all over the mat at this point. Daemon lands a back elbow, then a superkick, but JD doesn’t go down. Daemon kicks Driftwood in the back of the leg dropping him down – he follows it up with a harsh knee smearing the blood across JD’s face. Daemon comes off the ropes and nails a knee strike to the back of JD’s head.
Foote: He calls that ebony and ivory, but I am hoping I’m about to call it not good enough.
1
2
3!!!????
KICKOUT!!!!
Sting: JD still in this one. He is one tough bastard, even in the match with Owen at Manson Family Values his shoulders were barely on the mat for three seconds and it's hard to say if that match went any longer who would have walked out a champion that night.
Driftwood takes some shots to the gut as Max pulls him back to a vertical base. Max nails a super kick, but JD doesn’t fall, just wobbles. Max springs off the second rope with a cross body but JD catches the little bastard and slams him down across his knee with a gut buster. JD uses his weight advantage and tosses Max over head with a fall away slam.
Foote: There you go JD, toss that motherfucker across the ring.
Driftwood goes back to his day job rubbing his glass covered fist across the forehead of Max once more, blood is literally gushing from the SNUFF Champion’s skull, a small flap of flesh hangs the camera crew is keen to zoom in on – you can hear the squeamish members of the audiences stomachs turn all at once.
Foote: He’s carving up a masterpiece out there.
Max throws his head back catching JD in the nose knocking him loose. Max gets up and yell some shit at JD before laying in a chops to the chest, JD responds with a pimp slap and grabs him and hits a backdrop backbreaker.
Sting: Dimebag Drop! Max has lost a lot of blood and Driftwood goes for the cover.
1
2
3!!!???
KICKOUT!!!!!!
Foote: The SNUFF Champ is proving why this belt belongs around his waist. He is one tough son of a bitch… he has to be earning a bit of Driftwood’s respect.
Max up kicks JD pushing him back, he springs to his feet and starts laying rights and lefts cutting up each side of JD’s forehead – chipping through old thin scar tissues. JD is covered in a mask of his own blood quickly.
Sting: Max showing his fighting spirit, both men aiming to shorten the other's career here tonight at Jonestown Reunion.
Max hits a back driver suplex. He pulls JD back up quick – Driftwood fights back with rights and lefts, but Daemon stops him with a dropkick sending JD between the ropes and onto the apron. As he stands Max comes flying over the top rope with a sunset flip powerbomb. JD soars backwards off the apron and down onto one of the stands holding the glass. It drives into his back, shards sticking in leaving a huge circle sized would… his blood is already a deep deep red.
Foote: HOLY FUCK! I did not see that coming. Driftwood literally has shards of glass sticking out between his shoulder blades.
Max doesn’t give a fuck and stomps on the wound cracking the tips off some of the glass. Daemon tosses Driftwood under the bottom rope and back into the ring. Max holds Driftwood in a standing dragon sleeper. He then leaps and drags JD down with a backstabber while still in the dragon sleeper.
Sting: That’s one of his finishers Devil Trigger!
1
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3!!!????
KICKOUT!!!!
Foote: JD gets the shoulders up but at what cost, he has dug that glass deeper into his back.
As Driftwood rolls onto his stomach, Daemon drops a pointed elbow down into the wound on his back. Daemon drives the knee hard down into the open hole moving it around trying to open up Driftwood even more.
Sting: This is disgusting, these two men are literally tearing one another apart.
Driftwood shifts out of the maneuver, rolling Max over and mounting him laying down a few strikes turing the tide. He nails the jaw of Daemon with a stiff kick then stomps his head against the mat five or six times before stepping on it.
Foote: Nothing fancy here tonight. Look at this, a seasoned deathmatch veteran. Driftwood is now unrolling some of the wrapping to extend the glass down his arm. He’s lining up Max and… oh a closeline nearly rips the man’s head off. Pez Dispsneser from JD fucking Driftwood – a god damn glass laced one.
1
2
3????!!!!!!!
KICKOUT!!!!
Sting: Max is not wanting to let go of the SNUFF Championship. He is proving right now he is cut out for this deathmatch shit as much as JD is.
Driftwood slams his fist into the mat. He grabs Daemon up calling him a dumb son of a bitch as he throws Max out of the ring. JD grabs Daemon by the back of the head, he wipes the blood from his eyes forcing him to look at him. Then JD pushes Daemon’s face into the glue on the small mantle outside of the ring, then is slams Max’s face down into the other pile of glass. Max comes up wearing an entire mask of glass – blood caught behind it as the crowd gasps at the violence before them.
Foote: Holy fuck, innovation there by Driftwood… he just gave Max a glass mask and he’s not done dishing out the punishment.
JD pulls a steel chair out from under the ring, he lines up Max and swings as hard as he can cracking his opponent in the face and head – little bits of glass sparkling though the arena lights as they find a home somewhere in the crowd from the impact.
Sting: This title is going to lead to a human rights issue.
Driftwood throws Max under the ropes and back into the ring, he covers and JJ Huffman leaps into position.
1
2
3!!!?????
KICKOUT!!!!
Foote: He is going to have to kill Max to take the SNUFF Championship.
Sting: JD Driftwood has had enough. He now has two chairs in the center of the ring facing one another and he’s seated waiting for Max to come to.
Max get up and sees JD inviting him to sit down in front of him – and he does. They sit across from one another and punch the fuck out of eachother – shot for shot. Glass driving into the cheek and jaw of both competitors. JD hits three sharp jabs, Max leaps forward and drags Driftwood’s face down into the base of the chair he was sitting on with a complete shot.
Sting: Max going a scary place now as he hops out of the ring, trying to keep the glass out of his eyes. He’s grabbed a handful of glass.
Max takes that handful of glass and shoves it into the mouth of JD Driftwood. He’s on his knees and Max comes off the ropes and drives a knee into the face of Driftwood. A small portion of glass sticks out of one of JD’s cheeks as Max makes the cover.
1
2
3?????!!!!!!
KICKOUT!!!!!
Foote: This is crazy. I know JD can take a lot of punishment, but these two boys are going to murder eachother tonight.
Max can’t believe it. He’s lost a lot of blood and is groggy getting to his feet. He pulls JD up and once again they duke it out, chops, kicks, punches, forearms — they are tossing it all slower than normal –- both men completely exhausted. Suddenly, Driftwood hocks a glass laced loogie into the eyes of Max knocking him back, forcing him to try and pick glass from his eye lids –- hard to do with glass covered hands and face…
Foote: Fuck JD’s dad’s Cutter used to chew on beer glasses to get pussy after shows.
Sting: Classy… no respect by JD of Max here.
Somehow Max kicks JD in the gut, he hooks JD for a second Devil Trigger – JD breaks free grabbing the arms of Max and hooking them up – he clips Max around and drops him on his skull with a vertebreaker.
Foote: FULL ON HEADER!
1
2
3!!!!?????
DING! DING! DING!!!!
Anderson: The winner of this match and NEW SNUFF CHAMPION JD DRIFTWOOD!!!!!
Sting: for better or worse I will never ever forget the match I just saw here tonight. Both of these men left every single thing they had out there in the ring.
Driftwood holds up his newly won SNUFF Championship as JJ Huffman raises his hand. Driftwood yanks his hand back jawing at Huffman as he steps between the ropes and carries his championship to the back.
Foote: JD Driftwood holding this championship means all is right in the world. It truly legitimizes this company.
Sting: JD Driftwood wouldn’t even be a marketable face for god damn urinal cakes.
As Max stands up shaking his head pieces of glass flying loose from his face the crowd claps and cheers with an absolutely earth shattering show of ovation for the battle Max Daemon just put on before them.
Sting: There is one thing damn sure about Max Daemon. If he doesn’t win the match he sure as hell steals the show. That match is going to be a tough one to follow.
One For The Money by Escape The Fate begins to play throughout the compound as Justin York steps out onto the stage area and the crowd erupt into boo’s an throwing trash and a ‘Fuck You Justin’ chant. He smirks like the egomaniac he is and makes his way toward the ring. Once inside the rings he calls for a microphone and flips the crowd off.
Sting: What is this? Another debut here at CU:LT?
York: Allow me to formerly introduce myself to you smelly disgusting broke nasty fans. I am ‘The Casino Kid’ Justin York and I have come to CU:LT to put on a show like you’ve never seen before as if that’s something that you even deserve! I have also come with a warning to anyone on the roster who thinks they’re good enough to step inside this ring with me under any circumstances …. YOU WILL GET HURT!
The crowd continues booing and another ‘F You Justin’ chant begins throughout the arena much to the pleasure of Justin.
Foote: I don't know what the fuck has got into this crowd in Guyana but something has made it fucking white hot baby.
Justin York: Thank you.. thank you all for such a warm welcome here!!
Sting: Ah CU:LT where the industry's host mated meet and mangle one another.
Justin stops to allow the crowd to continue booing him and they do.
York: There is one guy who has been running around here and posting about me flappin’ his gums trying to jump on my hype train. Mason St. Croix, you think for one second you have what it takes to step into the ring with me? Why, because you used to kill people and blah blah fuckin’ blah? You’re going to cut my face off and show me my reflection? Man please cut yourself a break and save your breath before it’s too late.. oh wait.. it is already too late for you Mason St. Cocks. On May 31st at What Happens in Vegas in Las Vegas Nevada I am going to beat the hell out of you from one side of the arena all the way to the other. I am going to bloody and batter you and make you feel the warmth of your own blood running down your face and just when you think you’ve had enough its going to continue. You’re going to suffer for ever mentioning my name you piece of trash! Any stipulation you want just don’t bitch out, See you in Vegas St. Cocks. Bank on it!!
Sting: Some big promises from York. Let's see how he does in his debut in Vegas.
Justin York tosses the microphone and motions for a cameraman to get into the ring which he does. Upon getting into the ring Justin takes his camera and sets it down and immediately picks the man up and drives him to the canvas with the Casino Crusher, which really pisses off the crowd. Justin stands and flips the double bird to the crowd as well as to the remaining camera watching him. His music plays and he heads out of the ring, up the ramp and out of sight while taunting fans along the way!
Sting: What is this? Another debut here at CU:LT?
York: Allow me to formerly introduce myself to you smelly disgusting broke nasty fans. I am ‘The Casino Kid’ Justin York and I have come to CU:LT to put on a show like you’ve never seen before as if that’s something that you even deserve! I have also come with a warning to anyone on the roster who thinks they’re good enough to step inside this ring with me under any circumstances …. YOU WILL GET HURT!
The crowd continues booing and another ‘F You Justin’ chant begins throughout the arena much to the pleasure of Justin.
Foote: I don't know what the fuck has got into this crowd in Guyana but something has made it fucking white hot baby.
Justin York: Thank you.. thank you all for such a warm welcome here!!
Sting: Ah CU:LT where the industry's host mated meet and mangle one another.
Justin stops to allow the crowd to continue booing him and they do.
York: There is one guy who has been running around here and posting about me flappin’ his gums trying to jump on my hype train. Mason St. Croix, you think for one second you have what it takes to step into the ring with me? Why, because you used to kill people and blah blah fuckin’ blah? You’re going to cut my face off and show me my reflection? Man please cut yourself a break and save your breath before it’s too late.. oh wait.. it is already too late for you Mason St. Cocks. On May 31st at What Happens in Vegas in Las Vegas Nevada I am going to beat the hell out of you from one side of the arena all the way to the other. I am going to bloody and batter you and make you feel the warmth of your own blood running down your face and just when you think you’ve had enough its going to continue. You’re going to suffer for ever mentioning my name you piece of trash! Any stipulation you want just don’t bitch out, See you in Vegas St. Cocks. Bank on it!!
Sting: Some big promises from York. Let's see how he does in his debut in Vegas.
Justin York tosses the microphone and motions for a cameraman to get into the ring which he does. Upon getting into the ring Justin takes his camera and sets it down and immediately picks the man up and drives him to the canvas with the Casino Crusher, which really pisses off the crowd. Justin stands and flips the double bird to the crowd as well as to the remaining camera watching him. His music plays and he heads out of the ring, up the ramp and out of sight while taunting fans along the way!
Arctic Monkeys - The View From The Afternoon hits and all Three Members of Three Ring Barney appear at the top of the ramp. Chester Roosevelt, Royston Popplewell and Luna Baby all march toward the ring -- Roosevelt holding the Double Homicide Championships over both shoulders.
Anderson: Now coming to the ring the Double Homicide Champions Three Ring Barney.
Foote: This team had ana amazing match at Manson Family Values. Luna Baby came off the top of the cell wrapped in barbed wire at one point on the track to win those titles.
Sting: That’s right, this team has established themselves quickly as the top team at CU:LT.
Three Ring Barney makes it to the end of the ramp and walks over to the cage door. Luna Baby and Royston Popplewell climbs into the ring and await thier oppoents.
Anderson: And no w coming to the ring the team of Holden Ross and David Hunter.... Pandæmoniom.
The lights in the arena go out. After a few seconds of the crowd hushing themselves, the sounds of air raid sirens play on the PA.
Foote: Dramatic entrance for these boys but they are excited to be back together.
After a few moments of that, "The Night" by Aurelio Voltaire starts blaring on the PA speakers. As the guitar continues to build up and the violins join in, David Hunter comes out with a single spotlight on him. He steps to the stage, arms spread, chest exposed. He looks around at the crowd, breathing deeply and ready for what's to come, but otherwise focused on the ring in front of him. He cracks his wrist, neck, and knuckles, glancing around at the crowd before him.
Sting: Three Ring Barney was able to get past The Influence last month, but Pandemoniom is a whole other breed.
As the violin starts to pick up, David suddenly turns around. The lights return to normal as Holden strolls out from the back. As he walks up alongside David, the two head bump fists. David turns around and the two of them begin the trek to the ring. The duo ignore any fans attempting to high-five or otherwise get in their good favor.
Sting; They have a huge chance tonight, if the pair can grab this opportunity it will change the landscape of CU:LT's pretty much non-existent tag team division.
The duo hit ringside and David reaches up to grab the middle rope. He pulls himself up onto the apron, but quickly hops to the top rope. He points straight at the hard camera. During this, Holden crawls in under the bottom rope. David steps inside the ring, staying on the middle rope. He walks over towards the middle, staring straight at the hard camera. After making sure his balance is alright, he raises a clenched fist in the air. Holden, ever simplistic yet quite intimidating, looms next to him, standing straight and staring strong.
DING! DING! DING!
Popplewell and Ross are the ones to kick things off for their respective teams and they walk to the middle of the ring – both men 6”5’ evenly matched. The crowd roars in anticipation of the two big men going at it.
Foote: This right here is the shit I live for. This is what has been missing from CU:LT this entire time, two big boys just banging in the center of the ring.
Sting: You surely of all people know how that sounds.
Ross back up, hits the ropes and nails Popplewell with a shoulder block that just pushes him back a single step. Popplewell takes his turn now and comes with a shoulder block of his own also forcing Ross to take a step back. Both men then hit the ropes and come at one another with shoulder blocks pushing each other back just a few steps each this time. Now both men hit the ropes once more and take each other out with closeline each – both big men hit the mat with a huge crash.
Foote: Damn near caused an earthquake. These two are too evenly matched.
Ross finally get the upper hand with a judo throw. Popplewell is quick to get back up and come charging, Ross ducks and hooks the arms up throwing Royston to the mat with a full nelson slam. Ross picks Popplewell up and drags him toward his corner. He tags in Hunter and holds Popplewell’s arm up for Hunter to lay a shot in. Hunter drives a knee into the ribs of Popplewell.
Sting: These two are no stranger to teaming with one another – but none of them have officially held any tag gold as part of this team or any other.
Hunter hits a missile drop kick on Popplewell pushing them back, then a running missile head butt cracking Popplewell and catching him by surprise. Hunter with a backdrop now – follows it up with a leg drop across the throat.
Foote: I did not expect for Ross and Hunter to be able to dictate the pace in this one.
Hunter tags in Ross again and they hit a double suplex on Popplewell as Luna hops on the second rope leaning over arguing with the ref. Ross and Hunter have Popplewell up again and hit the second double suplex in a row. ‘One more,’ Ross hollers as they put Popplewell in position once again – this time however Popplewell hits a double suplex of his own on both men at once. The crowd pops for the show of strength.
Sting: Popplewell pound for pound has to be the strongest man on the roster.
Chester is on the outside hitting the mat for Royston to make the tag to Luna Baby – but he turns around and catches Ross in the face with a big boot. He belly to belly suplexes Ross to put him closer to the corner where Luna Baby awaits a tag. Popplewell makes the tag and holds Ross out in across his knee stretching him out in a backbreaker –- Luna comes off the top stomping on the chest of Holden. She lands on her feet and skips over to Hunter on the apron and laughs in his face.
Foote: The Double Homicide Champions turn things around quickly swinging the momentum in their favor.
Luna snaps Holden’s head back with a European uppercut. Luna keeps on the attack with a tilt-a-whirl DDT. Luna bounces off the ropes and dropkicks a seated Holden square between the eyes. Luna follows it all up with a dropsault and makes the cover.
1
2
KICKOUT!!!!
Foote: Jesus, Ross must have thrown her two feet up in the air while kicking out there.
Luna hits Ross with a hard kick to the shin, but Ross lets out a roar and nearly rips Luna’s head off with a closeline knocking her hard down to the canvas.
Sting: The size advantage of Ross and Hunter coming into affect here. It might have been smarter for the champs to team Popplewell and Chester in this one. We could have seen a real hoss fight.
Ross slams Luna down again with a spinebuster, him not getting in the face of Popplewell – who takes a swing from the apron –- but Ross steps back in time to dodge. He grabs Luna and puts her head between his legs, he flips her up and powerbombs her right into the turnbuckle where Royston is. He reaches out for a tag –- but Ross grabs Luna by the ankle and drags her all the way back to his corner tagging in Hunter.
Foote: Holden and Ross are really showing they know how to work a tag team match. They are cutting off the ring, even taunting Three Ring Barney at points of this match.
Hunter stomps down on the lower back of Luna. He lifts her up and hits a Samoan drop, he covers and Huffman starts the count.
1
2
3???!!!!!
KICKOUT!!!!
Sting: Look, Luna is as tough as they come. I know it seems like she is in a bad place hre, but this is the same woman who dove off a cage wrapped in barbed wire last month. I think she can handle being slammed and tossed around a few times.
Hunter hoists Luna up and nails a harsh forearm, then comes off the ropes with a spear – Luna leaps over him and make the tag to Popplewell who nails Hunter with a big boot laying him out. Popplewell tosses Hunter with a gutwrench suplex. Popplewell follows it up with a Northern Lights Suplex. Poplewell hits a turnbuckle slam and makes the cover.
1
2
KICKOUT!!!!!
Foote: every move in this match is high impact, neither team is pulling any punches here tonight.
Sting: Popplewell now driving the foot into the face of Hunter while he is seated in the corner and tags in Luna Baby….
Luna goes right to the other corner then runs across the ring and hits a double running knee on Hunter in the corner, Royston moving away at the last second. Luna tags Popplewell back in once more and they swing Hunter to the ropes –- Hunter comes back blasting through them both with a double shoulder block. Popplewell doesn’t fall, but Baby eats the canvas. Popplewell runs at Hunter, but he scoops him up and slams him down with a textbook powerslam before dropping a leg across the throat of Luna.
Foote: Hunter showing he can be a real ring general.
Hunter puts Luna up on his shoulders and tags in Ross once more. Ross heads to the top rope and comes off with a closeline aimed at Luna’s head.. She ducks and rolls Hunter head over heals into a pin..
Sting: JJ Huffman telling Luna to let go – Hunter isn’t the legal man.
As Luna gets up Ross greats her by putting her up on his shoulders and running across the ring with a death valley driver he calls blazed. He whips Luna back to her feet swings her off the ropes and throws her overhead, on her way down Hunter hits her with a devastating knee strike right under the jaw then boots Royston off the ring apron. Ross makes the cover…
1
2
3????!!!!!!!!
Sting: Luna Baby showing she can take all amounts of punishment thrown at her.
KICKOUT!!!!!
Chester is on the outside slapping Royston to get him to come to after being booted off the apron.
Foote: Wake up the big man if you want a chance at this there is no way Luna can do this along.
Ross has Luna up in a dominator, but she slides off the back and kicks him in the knee. She hits the ropes and comes back with a wheelbarrow face crusher, then is up to the top rope… she comes off with a double moonsault landing perfectly on Ross for the pin….
1
Hunter grabs a handful of hair and yanks her off his tag partner.
Foote: Like I said, it is too much for Luna here all alone.
JJ Huffman is pushing Hunter out of the ring, finger in the face for grabbing a handful of hair. As he is arguing with Hunter this gives Chester Roosevelt the chance to slide into the ring. Ross is grabbed by the wrist and rip corded into a nasty closeline by Chester – a beautiful rainmaker. Chester throws Luna’s arm over Ross as Hunter protests, but Roosevelt is back on the outside helping Popplewell back to the apron.
Foote: Dirty move here by Three Ring Barney, but that’s the advantage of the Threebird Rule.
Huffman starts the count….
1
2
3???!!!!!
Sting: Ross saved again by Hunter.
Hunter pulls the foot of Luna Baby yanking her off Ross as he steps back onto the apron. Luna crawls across the ring and makes the tag to Popplewell. He comes and grabs Ross throwing him with a belly to belly. He then grabs Hunter and brings him in the ring with a belly to belly – clearly tired of him breaking shit up.
Foote: Popplewell is like a feral animal being let out of a cage right now.
Ross is tossed up and onto the back of his neck with a release German suplex. Hunter tags him as he slides into the corner. Hunter spears the life out of Popplewell and grabs him pulling him back up – but to his surprise Royston is fighting back with rights and lefts – he wraps a hand around the throat of Hunter and hits a chokeslam transitioning to a sitout powerbomb.
Sting: SILENT BLISS!
1
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3!!!?????
Foote: Too close to the corner and Ross makes the tag mid pin.
Ross his Popplewell with a backdrop, then a standing splash. Ross slips Popplewell around fo a pumphanld driver, but at the peak of the rotation Royston flips back landing on his feet with Ross in his arms dropping down with a tombstone piledriver.
Sting: What agility and a fast pace late in this match by two huge athletes.
Poplewell puts Ross on his shoulders and makes the tag to Luna Baby, she comes off the top and plants two feet into Ross’s shoulders coming down with him off the top of Popplewell with all her weight. Baby rolls through the fall and drop kicks Hunter off the apron climbing up to the top rope in a fluid acrobatic motion.
Foote: Maybe it was smart to have her in this one, the speed factor is really coming in handy.
Ross is up and turns around into a 450 DDT from Luna.
Sting: BIG TOP!!!!
1
2
3????!!!!!!!!!
Hunter breaks it up!!!!
DING! DING! DING!
Sting: Just a little too late for Hunter and the night of Pandemonium has been spoiled. They looked great in their return, but clearly need to do a little work before reaching the top of the tag division here in CU:LT.
Anderson: The winners of the match and STILL DOUBLE HOMICIDE CHAMPIONS THREE RING BARNEY!
Foote: You have to hand it to Three Ring Barney they are one of the most versatile act in the business. Chester is a wild card and if he can help them like he did tonight I don’t see them losing the belts anytime soon.
Chester grabs the Double Homicide Championships and throws them over the shoulder of Popplewell and Luna Baby as they make their way to the back.
Sting: We already know the couple of Iggy Deluna and Blake O’Reilly will team up at What Happens in Vegas at the end of May to see if they can be the duo to put an end to Three Ring Barney’s title run.
Hunter extends his hand to Ross helping him to his feet, both men shake their heads in disappointment – but are seen sharing smiles – going over what went well. They nod as they walk to the back together.
Foote: It was a tough night for Ross and Hunter, but I for one would love to see Pandemonium as a regular or semi-regular act here in CU:LT.
Anderson: Now coming to the ring the Double Homicide Champions Three Ring Barney.
Foote: This team had ana amazing match at Manson Family Values. Luna Baby came off the top of the cell wrapped in barbed wire at one point on the track to win those titles.
Sting: That’s right, this team has established themselves quickly as the top team at CU:LT.
Three Ring Barney makes it to the end of the ramp and walks over to the cage door. Luna Baby and Royston Popplewell climbs into the ring and await thier oppoents.
Anderson: And no w coming to the ring the team of Holden Ross and David Hunter.... Pandæmoniom.
The lights in the arena go out. After a few seconds of the crowd hushing themselves, the sounds of air raid sirens play on the PA.
Foote: Dramatic entrance for these boys but they are excited to be back together.
After a few moments of that, "The Night" by Aurelio Voltaire starts blaring on the PA speakers. As the guitar continues to build up and the violins join in, David Hunter comes out with a single spotlight on him. He steps to the stage, arms spread, chest exposed. He looks around at the crowd, breathing deeply and ready for what's to come, but otherwise focused on the ring in front of him. He cracks his wrist, neck, and knuckles, glancing around at the crowd before him.
Sting: Three Ring Barney was able to get past The Influence last month, but Pandemoniom is a whole other breed.
As the violin starts to pick up, David suddenly turns around. The lights return to normal as Holden strolls out from the back. As he walks up alongside David, the two head bump fists. David turns around and the two of them begin the trek to the ring. The duo ignore any fans attempting to high-five or otherwise get in their good favor.
Sting; They have a huge chance tonight, if the pair can grab this opportunity it will change the landscape of CU:LT's pretty much non-existent tag team division.
The duo hit ringside and David reaches up to grab the middle rope. He pulls himself up onto the apron, but quickly hops to the top rope. He points straight at the hard camera. During this, Holden crawls in under the bottom rope. David steps inside the ring, staying on the middle rope. He walks over towards the middle, staring straight at the hard camera. After making sure his balance is alright, he raises a clenched fist in the air. Holden, ever simplistic yet quite intimidating, looms next to him, standing straight and staring strong.
DING! DING! DING!
Popplewell and Ross are the ones to kick things off for their respective teams and they walk to the middle of the ring – both men 6”5’ evenly matched. The crowd roars in anticipation of the two big men going at it.
Foote: This right here is the shit I live for. This is what has been missing from CU:LT this entire time, two big boys just banging in the center of the ring.
Sting: You surely of all people know how that sounds.
Ross back up, hits the ropes and nails Popplewell with a shoulder block that just pushes him back a single step. Popplewell takes his turn now and comes with a shoulder block of his own also forcing Ross to take a step back. Both men then hit the ropes and come at one another with shoulder blocks pushing each other back just a few steps each this time. Now both men hit the ropes once more and take each other out with closeline each – both big men hit the mat with a huge crash.
Foote: Damn near caused an earthquake. These two are too evenly matched.
Ross finally get the upper hand with a judo throw. Popplewell is quick to get back up and come charging, Ross ducks and hooks the arms up throwing Royston to the mat with a full nelson slam. Ross picks Popplewell up and drags him toward his corner. He tags in Hunter and holds Popplewell’s arm up for Hunter to lay a shot in. Hunter drives a knee into the ribs of Popplewell.
Sting: These two are no stranger to teaming with one another – but none of them have officially held any tag gold as part of this team or any other.
Hunter hits a missile drop kick on Popplewell pushing them back, then a running missile head butt cracking Popplewell and catching him by surprise. Hunter with a backdrop now – follows it up with a leg drop across the throat.
Foote: I did not expect for Ross and Hunter to be able to dictate the pace in this one.
Hunter tags in Ross again and they hit a double suplex on Popplewell as Luna hops on the second rope leaning over arguing with the ref. Ross and Hunter have Popplewell up again and hit the second double suplex in a row. ‘One more,’ Ross hollers as they put Popplewell in position once again – this time however Popplewell hits a double suplex of his own on both men at once. The crowd pops for the show of strength.
Sting: Popplewell pound for pound has to be the strongest man on the roster.
Chester is on the outside hitting the mat for Royston to make the tag to Luna Baby – but he turns around and catches Ross in the face with a big boot. He belly to belly suplexes Ross to put him closer to the corner where Luna Baby awaits a tag. Popplewell makes the tag and holds Ross out in across his knee stretching him out in a backbreaker –- Luna comes off the top stomping on the chest of Holden. She lands on her feet and skips over to Hunter on the apron and laughs in his face.
Foote: The Double Homicide Champions turn things around quickly swinging the momentum in their favor.
Luna snaps Holden’s head back with a European uppercut. Luna keeps on the attack with a tilt-a-whirl DDT. Luna bounces off the ropes and dropkicks a seated Holden square between the eyes. Luna follows it all up with a dropsault and makes the cover.
1
2
KICKOUT!!!!
Foote: Jesus, Ross must have thrown her two feet up in the air while kicking out there.
Luna hits Ross with a hard kick to the shin, but Ross lets out a roar and nearly rips Luna’s head off with a closeline knocking her hard down to the canvas.
Sting: The size advantage of Ross and Hunter coming into affect here. It might have been smarter for the champs to team Popplewell and Chester in this one. We could have seen a real hoss fight.
Ross slams Luna down again with a spinebuster, him not getting in the face of Popplewell – who takes a swing from the apron –- but Ross steps back in time to dodge. He grabs Luna and puts her head between his legs, he flips her up and powerbombs her right into the turnbuckle where Royston is. He reaches out for a tag –- but Ross grabs Luna by the ankle and drags her all the way back to his corner tagging in Hunter.
Foote: Holden and Ross are really showing they know how to work a tag team match. They are cutting off the ring, even taunting Three Ring Barney at points of this match.
Hunter stomps down on the lower back of Luna. He lifts her up and hits a Samoan drop, he covers and Huffman starts the count.
1
2
3???!!!!!
KICKOUT!!!!
Sting: Look, Luna is as tough as they come. I know it seems like she is in a bad place hre, but this is the same woman who dove off a cage wrapped in barbed wire last month. I think she can handle being slammed and tossed around a few times.
Hunter hoists Luna up and nails a harsh forearm, then comes off the ropes with a spear – Luna leaps over him and make the tag to Popplewell who nails Hunter with a big boot laying him out. Popplewell tosses Hunter with a gutwrench suplex. Popplewell follows it up with a Northern Lights Suplex. Poplewell hits a turnbuckle slam and makes the cover.
1
2
KICKOUT!!!!!
Foote: every move in this match is high impact, neither team is pulling any punches here tonight.
Sting: Popplewell now driving the foot into the face of Hunter while he is seated in the corner and tags in Luna Baby….
Luna goes right to the other corner then runs across the ring and hits a double running knee on Hunter in the corner, Royston moving away at the last second. Luna tags Popplewell back in once more and they swing Hunter to the ropes –- Hunter comes back blasting through them both with a double shoulder block. Popplewell doesn’t fall, but Baby eats the canvas. Popplewell runs at Hunter, but he scoops him up and slams him down with a textbook powerslam before dropping a leg across the throat of Luna.
Foote: Hunter showing he can be a real ring general.
Hunter puts Luna up on his shoulders and tags in Ross once more. Ross heads to the top rope and comes off with a closeline aimed at Luna’s head.. She ducks and rolls Hunter head over heals into a pin..
Sting: JJ Huffman telling Luna to let go – Hunter isn’t the legal man.
As Luna gets up Ross greats her by putting her up on his shoulders and running across the ring with a death valley driver he calls blazed. He whips Luna back to her feet swings her off the ropes and throws her overhead, on her way down Hunter hits her with a devastating knee strike right under the jaw then boots Royston off the ring apron. Ross makes the cover…
1
2
3????!!!!!!!!
Sting: Luna Baby showing she can take all amounts of punishment thrown at her.
KICKOUT!!!!!
Chester is on the outside slapping Royston to get him to come to after being booted off the apron.
Foote: Wake up the big man if you want a chance at this there is no way Luna can do this along.
Ross has Luna up in a dominator, but she slides off the back and kicks him in the knee. She hits the ropes and comes back with a wheelbarrow face crusher, then is up to the top rope… she comes off with a double moonsault landing perfectly on Ross for the pin….
1
Hunter grabs a handful of hair and yanks her off his tag partner.
Foote: Like I said, it is too much for Luna here all alone.
JJ Huffman is pushing Hunter out of the ring, finger in the face for grabbing a handful of hair. As he is arguing with Hunter this gives Chester Roosevelt the chance to slide into the ring. Ross is grabbed by the wrist and rip corded into a nasty closeline by Chester – a beautiful rainmaker. Chester throws Luna’s arm over Ross as Hunter protests, but Roosevelt is back on the outside helping Popplewell back to the apron.
Foote: Dirty move here by Three Ring Barney, but that’s the advantage of the Threebird Rule.
Huffman starts the count….
1
2
3???!!!!!
Sting: Ross saved again by Hunter.
Hunter pulls the foot of Luna Baby yanking her off Ross as he steps back onto the apron. Luna crawls across the ring and makes the tag to Popplewell. He comes and grabs Ross throwing him with a belly to belly. He then grabs Hunter and brings him in the ring with a belly to belly – clearly tired of him breaking shit up.
Foote: Popplewell is like a feral animal being let out of a cage right now.
Ross is tossed up and onto the back of his neck with a release German suplex. Hunter tags him as he slides into the corner. Hunter spears the life out of Popplewell and grabs him pulling him back up – but to his surprise Royston is fighting back with rights and lefts – he wraps a hand around the throat of Hunter and hits a chokeslam transitioning to a sitout powerbomb.
Sting: SILENT BLISS!
1
2
3!!!?????
Foote: Too close to the corner and Ross makes the tag mid pin.
Ross his Popplewell with a backdrop, then a standing splash. Ross slips Popplewell around fo a pumphanld driver, but at the peak of the rotation Royston flips back landing on his feet with Ross in his arms dropping down with a tombstone piledriver.
Sting: What agility and a fast pace late in this match by two huge athletes.
Poplewell puts Ross on his shoulders and makes the tag to Luna Baby, she comes off the top and plants two feet into Ross’s shoulders coming down with him off the top of Popplewell with all her weight. Baby rolls through the fall and drop kicks Hunter off the apron climbing up to the top rope in a fluid acrobatic motion.
Foote: Maybe it was smart to have her in this one, the speed factor is really coming in handy.
Ross is up and turns around into a 450 DDT from Luna.
Sting: BIG TOP!!!!
1
2
3????!!!!!!!!!
Hunter breaks it up!!!!
DING! DING! DING!
Sting: Just a little too late for Hunter and the night of Pandemonium has been spoiled. They looked great in their return, but clearly need to do a little work before reaching the top of the tag division here in CU:LT.
Anderson: The winners of the match and STILL DOUBLE HOMICIDE CHAMPIONS THREE RING BARNEY!
Foote: You have to hand it to Three Ring Barney they are one of the most versatile act in the business. Chester is a wild card and if he can help them like he did tonight I don’t see them losing the belts anytime soon.
Chester grabs the Double Homicide Championships and throws them over the shoulder of Popplewell and Luna Baby as they make their way to the back.
Sting: We already know the couple of Iggy Deluna and Blake O’Reilly will team up at What Happens in Vegas at the end of May to see if they can be the duo to put an end to Three Ring Barney’s title run.
Hunter extends his hand to Ross helping him to his feet, both men shake their heads in disappointment – but are seen sharing smiles – going over what went well. They nod as they walk to the back together.
Foote: It was a tough night for Ross and Hunter, but I for one would love to see Pandemonium as a regular or semi-regular act here in CU:LT.
We see the bottom of a podium as the scene begins. In the background, we can hear patriotic music being played. As the camera slowly fades to the top, the podium reads “USG: United States of GOAT” on it. Serena Riot is then seen with her orange and black facepaint on and a stack of papers. She gently taps them on the desk to align them, clearing her throat.
Riot: Ladies and Gentlemen, it is I. Your resident One-Off Queen, The GOAT herself. Serena Riot. I’d like to thank you all for coming to my State of the Union here tonight at CU:LT. And while, yes. I can’t be there contractually, I am here in spirit tonight. I am here to watch some badass wrestling from my couch in the 216. But fear not, my fellow Americans. At “What happens in Vegas…” I’ll be there. And I’ll be glad to face whoever I can. Because if there’s one thing I know about Foreign Affairs, it’s that no matter who you are, or your background…There will be equality for all. I don’t discriminate, I WILL whoop your ass faster than you can say “VEGAS BABY!...
She accidentally drops the stack of papers. Serena then awkwardly stares into the camera, letting out a minor, brief chuckle.
Riot: Tha-That’s okay…There wasn’t even anything written. It was just a prop…Anywhoskadoodle, I vow to never raise taxes!...I mean, I vow to kick some CU:LT ass! And It’s going to….I-I..I can’t do this. Let’s cut the crap.
She then throws the podium to the side, before grabbing a lighter from her jacket and lighting up a Newport. Just then, she reaches behind her, grabbing her signature barbed wire baseball bat that she named Lucy.
Riot: The fun and games are over. Well…The games are. I’m gonna’ have fun kicking everyones ass. And Lucy here? She’s a fighter, too. She has no problem at all beating your ass into oblivion if you cross me. I’m here in CU:LT for one thing, and one thing only. To kick everyone’s ass. I don’t care if you’re Holden Ross, Iggy Deluna, Chris Page…Or even…You, Legion.
She pauses, knowing her history with Legion.
Riot: Everyone is going to be on notice. And there’s not a single person that I see on that roster, and fear. There’s not a single person who can take me down, who can destroy me. They don’t exist. Come Vegas? Yeah. It’s gonna’ be a fight. That’s all I want. When Casanova English signed me, he didn’t just sign Serena Riot. Hell, he didn’t even sign “The GOAT”. He signed a death warrant for every single CU:LT member. And every single one who comes after me. Manson Family Values was merely a taste of what I can do, and the Hell I can raise. One by one…You line ‘em up. And I’ll knock ‘em down. Tick. Tock.
Scene fades back to the arena.
Riot: Ladies and Gentlemen, it is I. Your resident One-Off Queen, The GOAT herself. Serena Riot. I’d like to thank you all for coming to my State of the Union here tonight at CU:LT. And while, yes. I can’t be there contractually, I am here in spirit tonight. I am here to watch some badass wrestling from my couch in the 216. But fear not, my fellow Americans. At “What happens in Vegas…” I’ll be there. And I’ll be glad to face whoever I can. Because if there’s one thing I know about Foreign Affairs, it’s that no matter who you are, or your background…There will be equality for all. I don’t discriminate, I WILL whoop your ass faster than you can say “VEGAS BABY!...
She accidentally drops the stack of papers. Serena then awkwardly stares into the camera, letting out a minor, brief chuckle.
Riot: Tha-That’s okay…There wasn’t even anything written. It was just a prop…Anywhoskadoodle, I vow to never raise taxes!...I mean, I vow to kick some CU:LT ass! And It’s going to….I-I..I can’t do this. Let’s cut the crap.
She then throws the podium to the side, before grabbing a lighter from her jacket and lighting up a Newport. Just then, she reaches behind her, grabbing her signature barbed wire baseball bat that she named Lucy.
Riot: The fun and games are over. Well…The games are. I’m gonna’ have fun kicking everyones ass. And Lucy here? She’s a fighter, too. She has no problem at all beating your ass into oblivion if you cross me. I’m here in CU:LT for one thing, and one thing only. To kick everyone’s ass. I don’t care if you’re Holden Ross, Iggy Deluna, Chris Page…Or even…You, Legion.
She pauses, knowing her history with Legion.
Riot: Everyone is going to be on notice. And there’s not a single person that I see on that roster, and fear. There’s not a single person who can take me down, who can destroy me. They don’t exist. Come Vegas? Yeah. It’s gonna’ be a fight. That’s all I want. When Casanova English signed me, he didn’t just sign Serena Riot. Hell, he didn’t even sign “The GOAT”. He signed a death warrant for every single CU:LT member. And every single one who comes after me. Manson Family Values was merely a taste of what I can do, and the Hell I can raise. One by one…You line ‘em up. And I’ll knock ‘em down. Tick. Tock.
Scene fades back to the arena.
The scene before you was very much theatrical. Before you lay fields of green hills, before a large castle stands. It looked worn from battle, scorched marks, broken stones and rubble laid across the field, but before the castle stood a small army. Overlapping, would be the sound a shamisen playing over the scenery. Serene and telling a story of finally relaxing. A calm was set with this scenery, as it seemed the chaos ended.
Two squadrons with a walking path in the middle stood before a stone throne. Off in the distance, a rider can be seen on horseback, a large green billowing cloak made of dyed green fur flapping in the wind. From a birds eye view, the rider got closer and closer until he got to the two squadrons. The horse, adorned in green and golden armor kicked up upon hind legs, as the rider stayed mounted. Slowly he unmounted the horse, and the camera angle changed to be in front of him. Golden and green boots met the worn green grass, and slowly the camera rose up. Golden and green shin guards, green tights, then morphed into a green jacket, golden filigree etched into the fabric. The same pattern continued up to his waist, up his shoulders, down his arms where his hands met metal covered gloves. Across his chest lay a green sash, and his neck held a thick golden chain holding up this enormous green fur cloak, the hood up, but didn’t hide that full faced metal mask he wore.
Slow steps moved forward towards the throne. His army turned in unicent towards him. The metal masked man kept his stride up to to that stone throne that was clearly meant for him to sit on. He turned as his hand extended up, and the men faced him. His hand slowly would lower down as he looked to these men who fought for him battle. If the mask was able to show emotion, it would show a proud smile towards these men who bled for him. With the music picking up, finally it started to die down as the sounds of nature took them. Wind blowing for a moment, the sounds of his metal shoes scraping against the stone rubble before the throne. The masked man took in a deep breathe, one hand rose up, and the squadron to the left yelled out in German…
“Für den Thron!”
Translation: For the Throne!
They rose the same arm that the masked man rose up. After a moment, the masked man would raise up his other arm, his hand rising up as a claw. The other silent squadron rose their arm up, but leaving the other down. These men, instead of speaking German, spoke Japanese. A closer look would show that these men indeed were Japanese. Wearing a mix of German military and Japanese Meji era samurai armor. While, the men opposite of them, their German uniform was more noticeable, they only held Katanas and Wakashi’s.
“王位のために!
For The Throne!
Finally, the masked man spoke, he kept his arms up but the men before him rose that final arm, taking his pose. He spoke finally, through that metal mask. There was no mix of German or Japanese, instead he spoke English, clear as day. Once those words were said, collectively the unit spoke.
"For The Throne!”
Those arms would lower collectively. The masked man slowly moved to sit upon the throne and look out over his men. That masked didn’t seem to stop him from speaking. While it was lightly muffled, those words were understood by every man standing before him. For the moment he stayed quiet, the winds kicking up once more. Those metal finger tips tapped along the armrest of the throne. Tap…tap…tap…the soldiers marched in place, making the sound echo about these open fields. That stone hand came into a fist and struck the armrest. Everything went silent.
Shogun: 私たちがこの勝利を祝うために時間を割いている間...私はあなたに警告する必要があります、男性...私たちは未知の土地に向かっています。兄弟たちの支援を受ける前に、私はこの土地に一人で足を踏み入れることを選びました。私が王位に栄光をもたらすために必要なものを持っていることを証明するために!
Translation: While we take the time to celebrate this victory...I need to warn you, men...We are heading into unknown lands. Where before I had the backing of my brothers, I chose to step into this land alone. To prove I have what it takes to bring glory to The Throne!
He spoke finally, in Japanese to these men before him. Of course for those watching at home, they had the ability to read what he was saying with subtitles appearing below him. The camera angle was facing him, but the men behind him called out once more.
“For The Throne!”
His head would lower in a nod to them. Thankful for the cheers he received by these men. Slowly he leaned back onto the throne he sat on.
Shogun: 私たちが入る土地...あなたの力は十分ではありません。私には計画がありますが、多くの人が考える他の力の助けが必要です...暗すぎます。それでも、私はこれまで誰もがっかりさせたことはありません。あなたの将軍を信頼してください。あなたはすべて誇り高い戦士ですが...私が必要としているのは...狂信者です。世界はあなたのロードオブウォーがもたらす力を見てきました...しかし、これらの狂信者は私たちが必要とする何かを始めるでしょう...カルト...あなたのロードオブウォーのために...カルト...王位のために！
Translation: The lands we enter...your force will not be enough. While I have a plan, I need the help of other powers that many of you deem... too dark. Yet, I have never let any of you down before. Trust in your Shogun. While you are all proud warriors...what I need...are fanatics. While the world has seen the strength that your Lord of War brings...But these fanatics will start something that we need...A cult...for your lord of war...A cult...For The Throne!
That metal hand rose up and a fist was made. The men were silent, yet around them a fog started to gather. Quickly the skies would darken as behind them arising from the fog were these shadows hooded figures. Not a lot, about a few handful. But they didn’t move, the weather went back to normal, and his hand moved to that mask. Slowly removing it, and showing that blond dyed hair, stone look upon those eyes of his, and there was no smirk that he was known for.
Shogun:これらの男性は言葉を広めるでしょう。これらの新しい土地は私が誰であるかを知るでしょう。私のランクに不慣れな人。私はあなたのロード・オブ・ウォー、ShogunKaiserです。私は平和な男ですが、押されると他の男も女も見たことのない怒りを解き放ちます。私がこれらの土地にもたらすのは、見られないスタイルであり、実践しています...彼らは私のような燃えるような精神を示したことがありません。彼らにとって、私は外人です!
Translation: These men will spread the word. These new lands will know who I am. Those who are new to my ranks. I am Shogun Kaiser, your Lord of War. While I am a peaceful man, when pushed I will unleash a fury that no other man or woman has seen. What I bring to these lands, is a style not seen, practice...They have never shown a burning spirit like mine. To them, I am a Gaijin!
He rested the mask on the armrest now. He looked over the crowd, those eyes narrowing down for a moment. He was finding the words to say, for one, he never would disrespect these men.
Shogun: But they are mistaken. Just because their culture is different from mine, doesn’t change the fact…they are all the Gajin! “ He rose from the throne, unclasping the cloak so it laid upon the throne. He walked towards that pathway between these men. “ So go and enjoy your feast, let the drinks flow like the blood of our enemies. You have earned that. Rest well, for we embark on a journey westward once again. These eastern kingdoms have done us well, but I believe its time to finally set ground on the west. They know my force, they know my fortune. Now they will know the word of Kaiser. The triumphant Shogun from unknown lands to them, seeing only glory. To claim lands for my home, to claim lands for the family that brought me into their own. Go my shadows, be my voice. Bring more to my cause, bring forth the Cult of Shogun!
His arm would extend out once more, making a fist as the cloaked figures seemed to disperse into a fog. He stopped in the middle of the men, his head moving side to side. He extended out and patted one man on the shoulder, then he patted another one across from him.
Shogun: You, my strength, my fist. These new foes are not to be underestimated. Many of them have skills that we do not have. Remember that a battle lost, is not a war fallen. While some may have the upper hand at first, we always adapt to our surroundings. We have the ability to do, and it has brought us many victories. Let them show the arrogance that Americans show. While we won’t take no shit from anybody, remember the principals that was taught upon us since you took your vows. Respect is earned, not given or expected. You know that family are the only ones you need to trust in these times. Where we go, we have no friends…yet. While my force can only show so much, I hope that you trust in your Shogun and in my actions going from this day forward.
He moved while he spoke, he was touching the shoulder of each man he passed. Finally he got back to where his horse was. Taking the reigns and stepping up upon him with grace, the horse would neigh loudly and kick up. Shogun stayed upon the horse and he turned away from The Throne, the men behind him turned around with him. Calming the horse down, he took the reigns, and beside him was a katana, golden and green hilted, while the blade was etched elegantly. Unsheathing it, he held it up, then he pointed it out before him.
Shogun: I can tell you with no ego, if on our journey, we should encounter God, God will be cut. Now go! Enjoy your feast! In the fortnight we ride…Combat Unlimited Lethal Trials…The Lord of War is coming. My name is Shogun Kaiser. I will shatter dreams…dare to call me gaijin, and I will unleash the Oni to cut you down. For you are the gaijin to me…and to anyone standing in my path…I am will be more than your dream shatterer…I will be, your Gaijin Killer.
His face turned back to that stone expression, but those words would cut like daggers into the views watching. Finally, he smirked, lowering his hand and sheathing that katana into the side holster on the horse. The camera angle slowly started to fade back up into the air, then finally fading to black.
Blake O'Reilly and Nightmare and both already in the ring and their head snaps toward the stage. "Judas" by Fozzy rings out as the crowd looks to the ramp to see Page appear.
Anderson: Now coming to the ring standing 6’4’ weighing on at 240lbs….. "Chronic" Chris Page.
Page walks to the ring, slapping the hands of some audience members in the front row. Page straps through the ring ropes and glares and Nightmare and Blake before turning his attention toward the entrance awaiting one of his biggest current rivals.
Foote: This is what a real professional wrestler looks like Stacy take it all in, look at that body – but not too long Candice Wolfe might come after you.
The heavy synths of "You'll Miss Me When I'm Not Around" by Grimes begins. The child-like adlibs and the booming bass shakes the seats underneath each audience member. They rise to their feet in anticipation of the arrival of former four-time World Champion, "The Blackheart" Lissie Hope!
Sting: Here is one of my favorite roster members Bill. It’s Hopemania out there if you ask me and she is heading for her second win in a row In CU:LT.
I shot myself yesterday / got to Heaven anyway
The crowd jumps out of their seats as Grimes' continues to sing into the pre-chorus. The anticipation is growing, and the cheers start to crescendo.
If you don't bleed / then you don't die
Cross my heart / and hope to fly
Finally, the curtains spread and Lissie Hope emerges at the top of the entrance stage, standing for a moment and appreciating all of the cheers being levied in her direction.
If they could see me now / smiling six-feet underground
She notices signs of support in the front rows, and she acknowledges those young fans with high-fives. She sprints down the ramp, sliding under the bottom rope. She bounces to her feet and raises her arms to the crowd.
Foote: I’ll give her this the crowd is behind her, but I still think the ovation here tonight has something to do with the drinks we have been servin’.
You'll miss me when I'm not around
Anderson: Ladies and gentlemen, from New Orleans, Louisiana... standing 5'4" and weighing 143 pounds... "THE BLACKHEART"... LISSSSSSIEEEE HOOOOOOPE!
She enters the ring, wearing a cut-off "Hero" tee-shirt, revealing a black Under Armour exercise top and black and pink workout pants. She tosses the shirt into front rows, watching the fans fight over the memorabilia. Climbing the corner to acknowledge the fans, the song fades to a hush and she awaits the opening bell.
DING! DING! DING!
Outside the ring is surrounded with folded up tables against the guard rail, there is containers of lighter fluid littering the ground and packs of matches – some of the crowd in the front row have matches for the ultimate fan interaction.
Foote: This is going to be nuts Sting.
All four meet in the center of the right like a clusterfuck hitting one another until two pairs break off – Lissie and Nightmare – Blake and Page.
Sting: Looks like they have picked out their initial dance partners Bill.
Hope has Nightmare in the corner laying boots to her guts. Mean while Page battled in the other corner with Blake. Hope swings Nightmare and Page swings Black causing them to collide in the center of the ring and tumble to the mat. Now Hope and Page eye each other. They get into the face of one another and have a bit of a pushing match before both are hit with simultaneous back drops from Blake and Nightmare respectively.
Foote: I can’t wait to see Hope and Page go one on one. These two sure know how to build a fight.
Page and Hope are up and have swapped partners. Now Page is battling Nightmare and Hope is fighting Blake. Hope hits a snap DDT, then brings Blake back up to his a snap suples – she isn’t done she pulls him up and hits a swinging neckbreaker.
Sting: Hope is out to make a statement tonight.
Foote: My boy Page doing the same thing.
Page hits a snap suplex on Nightmare, followed by a DDT of his own and then a T-bone suplex. He raises his hands taunting the crowd. Page tosses nightmare through the middle ropes and starts storming Allison against the guard rail.
Foote: Page is a legend in this business and after the lights some of these fuckers on fire he is off the Cannbis Cup to rightfully claim the throne of deathmatch wrestling.
Hope drops a knee in the side of Blake’s head. She puts Blake’s head between her arm and backs up to the turnbuckle springing off it with a tornado DDT. Blake holds his neck, staggering to his feet he turns right into a kick in the gut. Hope hooks the arms and drives him face first to the mat with a pedigree.
Sting: Crown of Thorns! Hope just nailed her finisher and Blake is out cold.
Hope slides out of the ring and sets a table up pouring gasoline all over it. On the other side of the ring Page and Nightmare continue the battle. Page puts her down with a butterfly suplex. Nightmare is pulled back up and hit with a brian buster. Page finding the stamina of his youth continues the assault as he nails a spinning backfirst right to the temple of Nightmare knocking her out cold.
Foote: What a fucking shot by Chris Page, the man knows how to smoke people… and weed.
Sting: Yes… very hip with the kids.
Blake clubs Hope on the back before she can set the table on fire. They fight back and forth briefly before Hope gets the best of Blake once more, punching him back with a bicycle kick when hitting with a spear.
Foote: Hope just has Blake’s number tonight. She already beat Iggy at Manson Family Values now she is just tearing her man apart.
Page now has a table set up. He’s yelling at senior referee JJ Huffman to pour gas on the table. He does as Nightmare works some shots into the gut of Page. As they battle a member of the audience tosses a lit match on the table and the rest of the fans erupt as smoke fills the air.
Foote: Be careful there Page, you get light on fire you are going to hotbox this whole place with the fumes.
Page actually pulls a glass bong from under the ring and comes up with it cracking Nightmare under the jaw with it. Page then puts her head between his legs and powerbombs Nightmare through the flaming table. Nightmare kicks and rolls as a portion of her top catches fire.
Sting: That’s the first elimination someone put her out.
Staff hits Nightmare with a fire extinguisher and others start with cold spray as she is guided to the back.
Anderson: Nightmare has been eliminated.
Chris Page has a bowl packed in the bong. He goes over to the debris and takes a chunk of burning table to light his bowl. He fills the chamber with a thick cloud of yellow smoke that changes to yellow just as he sucks it back and blows the fumes out into the cheering crowd.
Sting: Chris Page living up to his chronic namesake.
Hope is nailing Blake with knees while she has him tied up with a double underhook. Hope starts cracking Blake in the face with stiff shots over and over. Hope calls for a fan to throw a match on the table and they do.
Foote: Hope is firing up the BBQ.
Blake battles back and he finds himself on the apron in a striking match with Hope. She hits a few elbows and looks to the table getting ready to toss Blake into the blaze.
SMASH!
Before Hope can put Blake through the table Chris Page cracks him over the head shattering the bong – Blake tumbles through the table. Huffman and other staff blast Blake with extinguishers – and a bit of the crowd as burning embers make their way to the first row.
Anderson: Blake O’Reilly has been eliminated.
Sting: Page stole that elimination from Lissie!
Before Hope can react to Page she is hauled into the ring with a suplex. Page leaps off the second rope and hits a perfect moonsault.
Foote: Pretty good mover for a fat fuck as Hope claims the man is anyway.
Page nails a reverse DDT. Page lets Hope up and pushes her back with chops to the top of the chest. Page hits a cradle piledriver laying Hope out. Page starts stomping the shit out of her and heads to the top rope. He comes off and hits a diving headbutt.
Sting: What a move by Chris Page. Some say he is over the hill but the bastard is in prime shape.
Hope ducks a shot from Page and pulls him back for a German suplex. Page gets up but Hope flips him over with a snapmare and kicks him in the base of the spine. Page pulls himself up with the ropes and is hit with a missile dropkick.
Sting: There two going back and forth.
Page goes for a spinning back fist, Hope ducks and counters with a spinning elbow dropping him to his knees. Hope pulls Page down with a snap DDT. Hope lifts Page up by his hair and hits a jumping twisting knee to the face.
Foote: Lissie hits the Lights Out! Fuck. C’mon Page rally back like its just another Saturday with the boys.
Hope is on the top rope. She comes off with a corkscrew swanton bomb onto Page.
Sting: Cherry Bomb from Hope.
Hope grabs a table and sets it up on the outside pouring gas all over it. She doesn’t light it up yet and slides back in the ring to continue the assault on Page. Hope grabs Page by the hair and he up kicks her in the face. Page back to his feet. Hope runs at Page but is spun around and slammed to the mat with a spine buster.
Foote: Spinebuster Slam.
Page yanks Hope to her feet and slaps her across the face. He puts her head between his leafs and hoists her up before planting her down on her face –- Angel’s wings.
Foote: There we go Page has knocked her out cold ring the bell it’s fucking done. Page Plant has been hit.
Page slides out of the ring. It looks like the fans are hoping to light the table Hope set up earlier – but Page grabs a pack of matches himself. He lights the table up – then coming through the ropes – over the table – and through the flames is Lissie Hope with a sucide dive.
Sting: What a move by Hope. The risk she took to take out Chris Page is insane.
The crowd is getting behind Hope as she pumps her fist in the air. She tosses Page under the bottom ropes and into the ring once more as the table blazes on the outside. Page catches Lissie off guard and tries to toss her through the ropes toward the table.
Sting: Things are really heating up.
Lissie drags Page between the ropes as they battle. They get face to face and just start cracking each other over and over and over. Lissie hits a superkick…. Page falls forward, but grabs the rope putting his hand back and getting his balance back. He hits a spinning backfist on Hope… hopes wobbles but hangs on to the top rope.
Foote: That table is going to burn through before anyone goes down.
Hope comes with everything she has with a stiff forearm, at the same time Page comes up with a knee as hard as he can. They fall off the apron and go right through the flaming table at the same time.
DING! DING! DING!
Sting: God put them out, both of them are burning.
Embers fly into the air as the crowd pops with the impact of both Page’s and Hope’s bodies. Huffman and other staff shower them with extinguisher foam and cold spray for the blisters from the burning wood.
Anderson: This match is a draw!
As Hope and Page are being taken to the back and are well separated from one another by security and staff they lock eyes on one another – knowing full well this is just a chapter in their story.
Foote: I know Page wanted a win, but I hope he has learned something as he trains for the deathmatch against Corey Black at the Cannabis Cup!
Anderson: Now coming to the ring standing 6’4’ weighing on at 240lbs….. "Chronic" Chris Page.
Page walks to the ring, slapping the hands of some audience members in the front row. Page straps through the ring ropes and glares and Nightmare and Blake before turning his attention toward the entrance awaiting one of his biggest current rivals.
Foote: This is what a real professional wrestler looks like Stacy take it all in, look at that body – but not too long Candice Wolfe might come after you.
The heavy synths of "You'll Miss Me When I'm Not Around" by Grimes begins. The child-like adlibs and the booming bass shakes the seats underneath each audience member. They rise to their feet in anticipation of the arrival of former four-time World Champion, "The Blackheart" Lissie Hope!
Sting: Here is one of my favorite roster members Bill. It’s Hopemania out there if you ask me and she is heading for her second win in a row In CU:LT.
I shot myself yesterday / got to Heaven anyway
The crowd jumps out of their seats as Grimes' continues to sing into the pre-chorus. The anticipation is growing, and the cheers start to crescendo.
If you don't bleed / then you don't die
Cross my heart / and hope to fly
Finally, the curtains spread and Lissie Hope emerges at the top of the entrance stage, standing for a moment and appreciating all of the cheers being levied in her direction.
If they could see me now / smiling six-feet underground
She notices signs of support in the front rows, and she acknowledges those young fans with high-fives. She sprints down the ramp, sliding under the bottom rope. She bounces to her feet and raises her arms to the crowd.
Foote: I’ll give her this the crowd is behind her, but I still think the ovation here tonight has something to do with the drinks we have been servin’.
You'll miss me when I'm not around
Anderson: Ladies and gentlemen, from New Orleans, Louisiana... standing 5'4" and weighing 143 pounds... "THE BLACKHEART"... LISSSSSSIEEEE HOOOOOOPE!
She enters the ring, wearing a cut-off "Hero" tee-shirt, revealing a black Under Armour exercise top and black and pink workout pants. She tosses the shirt into front rows, watching the fans fight over the memorabilia. Climbing the corner to acknowledge the fans, the song fades to a hush and she awaits the opening bell.
DING! DING! DING!
Outside the ring is surrounded with folded up tables against the guard rail, there is containers of lighter fluid littering the ground and packs of matches – some of the crowd in the front row have matches for the ultimate fan interaction.
Foote: This is going to be nuts Sting.
All four meet in the center of the right like a clusterfuck hitting one another until two pairs break off – Lissie and Nightmare – Blake and Page.
Sting: Looks like they have picked out their initial dance partners Bill.
Hope has Nightmare in the corner laying boots to her guts. Mean while Page battled in the other corner with Blake. Hope swings Nightmare and Page swings Black causing them to collide in the center of the ring and tumble to the mat. Now Hope and Page eye each other. They get into the face of one another and have a bit of a pushing match before both are hit with simultaneous back drops from Blake and Nightmare respectively.
Foote: I can’t wait to see Hope and Page go one on one. These two sure know how to build a fight.
Page and Hope are up and have swapped partners. Now Page is battling Nightmare and Hope is fighting Blake. Hope hits a snap DDT, then brings Blake back up to his a snap suples – she isn’t done she pulls him up and hits a swinging neckbreaker.
Sting: Hope is out to make a statement tonight.
Foote: My boy Page doing the same thing.
Page hits a snap suplex on Nightmare, followed by a DDT of his own and then a T-bone suplex. He raises his hands taunting the crowd. Page tosses nightmare through the middle ropes and starts storming Allison against the guard rail.
Foote: Page is a legend in this business and after the lights some of these fuckers on fire he is off the Cannbis Cup to rightfully claim the throne of deathmatch wrestling.
Hope drops a knee in the side of Blake’s head. She puts Blake’s head between her arm and backs up to the turnbuckle springing off it with a tornado DDT. Blake holds his neck, staggering to his feet he turns right into a kick in the gut. Hope hooks the arms and drives him face first to the mat with a pedigree.
Sting: Crown of Thorns! Hope just nailed her finisher and Blake is out cold.
Hope slides out of the ring and sets a table up pouring gasoline all over it. On the other side of the ring Page and Nightmare continue the battle. Page puts her down with a butterfly suplex. Nightmare is pulled back up and hit with a brian buster. Page finding the stamina of his youth continues the assault as he nails a spinning backfirst right to the temple of Nightmare knocking her out cold.
Foote: What a fucking shot by Chris Page, the man knows how to smoke people… and weed.
Sting: Yes… very hip with the kids.
Blake clubs Hope on the back before she can set the table on fire. They fight back and forth briefly before Hope gets the best of Blake once more, punching him back with a bicycle kick when hitting with a spear.
Foote: Hope just has Blake’s number tonight. She already beat Iggy at Manson Family Values now she is just tearing her man apart.
Page now has a table set up. He’s yelling at senior referee JJ Huffman to pour gas on the table. He does as Nightmare works some shots into the gut of Page. As they battle a member of the audience tosses a lit match on the table and the rest of the fans erupt as smoke fills the air.
Foote: Be careful there Page, you get light on fire you are going to hotbox this whole place with the fumes.
Page actually pulls a glass bong from under the ring and comes up with it cracking Nightmare under the jaw with it. Page then puts her head between his legs and powerbombs Nightmare through the flaming table. Nightmare kicks and rolls as a portion of her top catches fire.
Sting: That’s the first elimination someone put her out.
Staff hits Nightmare with a fire extinguisher and others start with cold spray as she is guided to the back.
Anderson: Nightmare has been eliminated.
Chris Page has a bowl packed in the bong. He goes over to the debris and takes a chunk of burning table to light his bowl. He fills the chamber with a thick cloud of yellow smoke that changes to yellow just as he sucks it back and blows the fumes out into the cheering crowd.
Sting: Chris Page living up to his chronic namesake.
Hope is nailing Blake with knees while she has him tied up with a double underhook. Hope starts cracking Blake in the face with stiff shots over and over. Hope calls for a fan to throw a match on the table and they do.
Foote: Hope is firing up the BBQ.
Blake battles back and he finds himself on the apron in a striking match with Hope. She hits a few elbows and looks to the table getting ready to toss Blake into the blaze.
SMASH!
Before Hope can put Blake through the table Chris Page cracks him over the head shattering the bong – Blake tumbles through the table. Huffman and other staff blast Blake with extinguishers – and a bit of the crowd as burning embers make their way to the first row.
Anderson: Blake O’Reilly has been eliminated.
Sting: Page stole that elimination from Lissie!
Before Hope can react to Page she is hauled into the ring with a suplex. Page leaps off the second rope and hits a perfect moonsault.
Foote: Pretty good mover for a fat fuck as Hope claims the man is anyway.
Page nails a reverse DDT. Page lets Hope up and pushes her back with chops to the top of the chest. Page hits a cradle piledriver laying Hope out. Page starts stomping the shit out of her and heads to the top rope. He comes off and hits a diving headbutt.
Sting: What a move by Chris Page. Some say he is over the hill but the bastard is in prime shape.
Hope ducks a shot from Page and pulls him back for a German suplex. Page gets up but Hope flips him over with a snapmare and kicks him in the base of the spine. Page pulls himself up with the ropes and is hit with a missile dropkick.
Sting: There two going back and forth.
Page goes for a spinning back fist, Hope ducks and counters with a spinning elbow dropping him to his knees. Hope pulls Page down with a snap DDT. Hope lifts Page up by his hair and hits a jumping twisting knee to the face.
Foote: Lissie hits the Lights Out! Fuck. C’mon Page rally back like its just another Saturday with the boys.
Hope is on the top rope. She comes off with a corkscrew swanton bomb onto Page.
Sting: Cherry Bomb from Hope.
Hope grabs a table and sets it up on the outside pouring gas all over it. She doesn’t light it up yet and slides back in the ring to continue the assault on Page. Hope grabs Page by the hair and he up kicks her in the face. Page back to his feet. Hope runs at Page but is spun around and slammed to the mat with a spine buster.
Foote: Spinebuster Slam.
Page yanks Hope to her feet and slaps her across the face. He puts her head between his leafs and hoists her up before planting her down on her face –- Angel’s wings.
Foote: There we go Page has knocked her out cold ring the bell it’s fucking done. Page Plant has been hit.
Page slides out of the ring. It looks like the fans are hoping to light the table Hope set up earlier – but Page grabs a pack of matches himself. He lights the table up – then coming through the ropes – over the table – and through the flames is Lissie Hope with a sucide dive.
Sting: What a move by Hope. The risk she took to take out Chris Page is insane.
The crowd is getting behind Hope as she pumps her fist in the air. She tosses Page under the bottom ropes and into the ring once more as the table blazes on the outside. Page catches Lissie off guard and tries to toss her through the ropes toward the table.
Sting: Things are really heating up.
Lissie drags Page between the ropes as they battle. They get face to face and just start cracking each other over and over and over. Lissie hits a superkick…. Page falls forward, but grabs the rope putting his hand back and getting his balance back. He hits a spinning backfist on Hope… hopes wobbles but hangs on to the top rope.
Foote: That table is going to burn through before anyone goes down.
Hope comes with everything she has with a stiff forearm, at the same time Page comes up with a knee as hard as he can. They fall off the apron and go right through the flaming table at the same time.
DING! DING! DING!
Sting: God put them out, both of them are burning.
Embers fly into the air as the crowd pops with the impact of both Page’s and Hope’s bodies. Huffman and other staff shower them with extinguisher foam and cold spray for the blisters from the burning wood.
Anderson: This match is a draw!
As Hope and Page are being taken to the back and are well separated from one another by security and staff they lock eyes on one another – knowing full well this is just a chapter in their story.
Foote: I know Page wanted a win, but I hope he has learned something as he trains for the deathmatch against Corey Black at the Cannabis Cup!
As the ring crew cleans up the pieces of burnt table and other debris from the previous match the big screen comes alive with a close up of the end of a cigarette. The ember lights up the screen as the camera slowly pans back to show Casanova English -- cigarette hanging from his mouth. He hold a black velvet bag.
English: I hope you are all enjoying yourselves this evening. I hope the brtality has been to your liking.
The entire arena erupts clearly influenced by the purple juice they have been drinking all night long. Chants of CULT nearly tear the roof off the damn place. English raises his hand to calm the crowd.
English: I have a gift, an artifact given to me by the shareholders who have a stake in this little business venture. They had me collect the blood of our fighters. They took that blood and they laid it over this slab of wood -- carved into it the characters of a Ouija board.
English takes a red tinted Ouija board out of the bag, he takes a few drags off his cigarette staring at it himself before holding it up the camera.
English: This has been covered in the blood of the people who made CU:LT what it is in such a short time. What will happen is an 8 person tournament starting at What Happens in Vegas.... the winner of this tournament will win this Ouija board and they will use it allowing the board to choose their fate. It will choose when and where the winner will fight for a specific championship. It will all be announced as we lead up to What Happens in Vegas in May.
English holds up the blood stained Ouija board a the camera zooms in on it and cuts back to the area,
Foote; What a weird fucking trinket.
Sting: I'm excited to see who might walk home with this haunted piece of gore and if it will grant then a shot at the New World Championship.
English: I hope you are all enjoying yourselves this evening. I hope the brtality has been to your liking.
The entire arena erupts clearly influenced by the purple juice they have been drinking all night long. Chants of CULT nearly tear the roof off the damn place. English raises his hand to calm the crowd.
English: I have a gift, an artifact given to me by the shareholders who have a stake in this little business venture. They had me collect the blood of our fighters. They took that blood and they laid it over this slab of wood -- carved into it the characters of a Ouija board.
English takes a red tinted Ouija board out of the bag, he takes a few drags off his cigarette staring at it himself before holding it up the camera.
English: This has been covered in the blood of the people who made CU:LT what it is in such a short time. What will happen is an 8 person tournament starting at What Happens in Vegas.... the winner of this tournament will win this Ouija board and they will use it allowing the board to choose their fate. It will choose when and where the winner will fight for a specific championship. It will all be announced as we lead up to What Happens in Vegas in May.
English holds up the blood stained Ouija board a the camera zooms in on it and cuts back to the area,
Foote; What a weird fucking trinket.
Sting: I'm excited to see who might walk home with this haunted piece of gore and if it will grant then a shot at the New World Championship.
The first twenty eight seconds of “Doo Wop (That Thing) by Lauryn Hill plays through the desert. Green and orange lights swirl around through the crowd as a singular spotlight shines near the backstage curtains. As soon as the first eighteen seconds of music goes by, Iggy comes bursting through from behind the curtain. She’s full of energy as she steps out onto the scene with a bright grin on her face. Taking a moment to look around at the crowd, she stops at the top of the ramp, right fist thrown into the air, and the other arm tucked firmly behind her back. Soon enough, she begins to make her way briskly towards the ring. Fist bumping fans along the way, but never once breaking her stride.
Sting: This woman is going to be a star mark my words. I know she lost to Hope at Manson Family Values… but I know her lariat will keep anyone down for a three.
Foote: Only problem is she has to do a lot more than that tonight to win against Jaka.
“It's been three weeks since you were looking for your friend
The one you let hit it and never called you again
'Member when he told you he was 'bout the Benjamins?
You act like you ain't hear him then give him a little trim
To begin, how you think you're really gon' pretend
Like you wasn't down and you called him again?
Plus, when you give it up so easy you ain't even foolin' him
If you did it then, then you'd probably fuck again”
Anderson: Making her way to the ring, from Lagos, Nigeria… Weighing in at one hundred and thirty five pounds… She is The Revolution, Lariat Tubman… IIIGGGYYY DDDEEELLLUUUNNNAAA!
As the ring announcer makes her introduction, Iggy begins climbing up the steel steps with ease. She’s singing along to the lyrics that fill the air, bobbing her head along to the music, shimmying and swaying to the beat. She climbs over the middle rope, stepping into the ring, just until she stops in the center of it. Dropping down to her knees, hands press together in prayer form and eyes close, a brief prayer escaping her before she pops back up to her feet.
“Guys, you know you'd better watch out
Some girls, some girls are only about
That thing, that thing, that thing
That thing, that thing, that thing”
Foote: I know that Jaka and Iggy have grown close as friends, but if they want to show out as the kids say they are really gonna have to set that shit aside here tonight.
Iggy moves to the ropes ahead of her, stepping onto the middle rope with one boot. The other pops up behind her as she throws a fist into the air with one of her hands. She mouths some words out loudly to the crowd, who respond with loud cheers as she repeats the action on the opposite set of ropes. Grinning, she moves towards a corner, jacket removed and tossed aside as she bends at the knees. She gets in some last minute stretches, but her gaze never moves from the entrance ramp at all.
Sting: And here comes here opponent. It’s important to note Jaka lost the World Championship triple threat at Manson Family Values, but she didn’t take the pin. She made one mistake and that was enough.
Yamborghini High - A$AP Mob hits the sound system and rings throughout the hangar.
Anderson: From New York, New York, weighing in at 132lbs standing 5’10”... JAKA!
Jaka stomps to the ring in her Just Don BHM Air Jordan 1s pointing to her kicks letting the crowd know they will be up for auction after the show.
Sting: Always hustling. I hear she got a pretty penny for the pair for Nikes she wore at Manson Family Values.
Jaka walks up the steps and goes between the ropes. She gets in Iggy’s face for a moment smiling and then backs up to her corner.
Anderson: This match will be held under Grimes Rules.
Anderson points to the big screen where the rules are put up and reads them out to the live crowd and the thousands illegally streaming online.
Sting: This woman is going to be a star mark my words. I know she lost to Hope at Manson Family Values… but I know her lariat will keep anyone down for a three.
Foote: Only problem is she has to do a lot more than that tonight to win against Jaka.
“It's been three weeks since you were looking for your friend
The one you let hit it and never called you again
'Member when he told you he was 'bout the Benjamins?
You act like you ain't hear him then give him a little trim
To begin, how you think you're really gon' pretend
Like you wasn't down and you called him again?
Plus, when you give it up so easy you ain't even foolin' him
If you did it then, then you'd probably fuck again”
Anderson: Making her way to the ring, from Lagos, Nigeria… Weighing in at one hundred and thirty five pounds… She is The Revolution, Lariat Tubman… IIIGGGYYY DDDEEELLLUUUNNNAAA!
As the ring announcer makes her introduction, Iggy begins climbing up the steel steps with ease. She’s singing along to the lyrics that fill the air, bobbing her head along to the music, shimmying and swaying to the beat. She climbs over the middle rope, stepping into the ring, just until she stops in the center of it. Dropping down to her knees, hands press together in prayer form and eyes close, a brief prayer escaping her before she pops back up to her feet.
“Guys, you know you'd better watch out
Some girls, some girls are only about
That thing, that thing, that thing
That thing, that thing, that thing”
Foote: I know that Jaka and Iggy have grown close as friends, but if they want to show out as the kids say they are really gonna have to set that shit aside here tonight.
Iggy moves to the ropes ahead of her, stepping onto the middle rope with one boot. The other pops up behind her as she throws a fist into the air with one of her hands. She mouths some words out loudly to the crowd, who respond with loud cheers as she repeats the action on the opposite set of ropes. Grinning, she moves towards a corner, jacket removed and tossed aside as she bends at the knees. She gets in some last minute stretches, but her gaze never moves from the entrance ramp at all.
Sting: And here comes here opponent. It’s important to note Jaka lost the World Championship triple threat at Manson Family Values, but she didn’t take the pin. She made one mistake and that was enough.
Yamborghini High - A$AP Mob hits the sound system and rings throughout the hangar.
Anderson: From New York, New York, weighing in at 132lbs standing 5’10”... JAKA!
Jaka stomps to the ring in her Just Don BHM Air Jordan 1s pointing to her kicks letting the crowd know they will be up for auction after the show.
Sting: Always hustling. I hear she got a pretty penny for the pair for Nikes she wore at Manson Family Values.
Jaka walks up the steps and goes between the ropes. She gets in Iggy’s face for a moment smiling and then backs up to her corner.
Anderson: This match will be held under Grimes Rules.
Anderson points to the big screen where the rules are put up and reads them out to the live crowd and the thousands illegally streaming online.
Ding! Ding! Ding!
Jaka and Iggy meet in the center of the ring and shake hands. The crowd cheers at the show of respect between the two fighters.
Sting: This is beautiful, both these women are just happy to come out here and battle one another ina grueling match just because they love this sport and respect one another.
Foote: Yeah, yeah, now kill each other.
Jaka runs at Iggy with a crossbody but she is caught and readjusted into a spine buster getting slammed to the ground. Jaka holds her back but gets back up and drop kicks Iggy knocking her down. Iggy back up. Iggy hits a superkick knocking Jaka back down to the mat.
Sting: It looks like Iggy wants to go for the pin, but how this match works is the ref has to call it and Jaka has penalty of fight left.
Jaka is up while Iggy hesitates and hits her in the ribs with some sharp rights and lefts. Jaka nails a jaw breaker. She bounces off the ropes and hits a tornado DDT on the rebound. Jaka knows what she has to do as soon as Iggy sits up she puts her back down with a knee to the face.
Foote: Jaka is smart, she didn’t take the pin in the New World Championship match at Manson Family Values. She sold those glass shoes she used. Hell she already has a match lined up for Vegas.
Iggy battles back with a belly to belly suplex – and now realizing she has to try and fucking kill Jaka to win she places her in the corer and runs driving a boot into the side of her jaw. Iggy grabs Jaka by the head and pulls her up. She grabs Jaka in a fall away slam and screams as she hoists her up and tosses her backward over the top rope onto the thin padding on the outside.
Sting: The strength! She almost tossed Jaka from the ring over the railing into the crowd.
Iggy keeps on the attack as JJ Huffman checks on Jaka and determines she can continue. Iggy grabs Jaka and throws her into the metal railing. She scoops Jaka up and pulls her to the corner portion of the railing. She starts viciously Irish whipping Jaka back and forth nailing her ribs off each railing over and over and over.
Foote: Some internal bleeding there. Blood is coming from the mouth of Jaka.
Jaka falls to her knees spitting blood on the ground. Iggy lifts her up and drops Jaka groin first down on the railing. Iggy then drags her back leaving Jaka’s legs on the railing and drops her down with an inverted DDT.
Sting: The ref checking on Jaka there and she still seems good to go as she is using the rail to get back to get feet there.
Iggy grabs a portion of the padding and peels it back to reveal the concrete bottom to the airport hangar. She goes over to Jaka and finds nothing but a fight. Jaka hits forearms, kicks, headbutts. Jaka kicks Iggy in the gut and pulls her back, dropping her on the top of her head with a piledriver right on the concrete. Iggy is bleeding right away, but Jaka helps her to her feet. Jaka nails a Canadian destroyer right on the exposed concrete; the knock of Iggy’s skull cracking on the ground can be heard in the hangar.
Sting: Call it a Nigerian destroyer because there two are putting it all on the line early.
Huffman checks Iggy and despite the blood soaking her hair and running down her face she continues. Jaka and Iggy start going at it once more. Jaka hits knee strikes and a hurricanrana. The momentum sends Iggy forward toward the time keeper table and she snaches up a chair swining it quick nailing Jaka in the skull.
Foote: She caught Jaka tere flush and she is now spurting blood from her forehead.
Iggy hits a bicycle kick. After damaging the ribs of Jaka earlier in the match Iggy wraps her arms around Jaka and starts squeezing. Jaka is bleeding from the mouth all down her chest It looks like she is fading. Huffman starts to check on her…
Sting: This could be it. We expected some sort of deathmatch, but this is just turning inro a brutal brawl. That bear hug is in deep.
Foote: Not gonna lie I love it. This is a new style of old school wrasslin and both them ladies are learning my respect.
Sting: I’m not sure they care Bill.
Jaka jabs her thumbs into the eye of Iggy forcing her to let her go of the hold. Iggy hits some elbows on the wound atop Iggy’s head. Jaka just puts her hand right under the ring apron and grabs the first thing her hand touches. Jaka smokes Iggy in the face with a hammer and slides in the ring.
Foote: Fuck it takes a friend to rearrange your face.
Jaka grabs over the top rope and hits a slingshot elbow drop.
Sting: JAKA BOOT V1!!! From inside the ring to the outside.
Huffman is checking on Iggy -- but Jaka puts Iggy on top of a table she created out of three chairs. One unfolded set across the base of two others. Jaka puts Iggy on top. Jaka climbs to the top rope as it is happening then she flips off the top rope with a moonsault double stomp.
Sting: Kicks on Fire from the top rope to the outside shoving Iggy through the chairs.
Huffman checks on Iggy and it looks like he is about to call it when she starts kicking her legs and shouting at him that she can still go. Jaka helps her friend up shaking her head. She slaps Iggy awake. Iggy returns the favor an once again both are punching each other over and over. Out of nowhere Iggy hits a quick package piledriver.
Foote: She calls that the phenomenon. What a perfect old school move, nothin’ fancy just drop a bitch on their head.
As Jaka gets back to her feet her head is nearly ripped off with a discus lariat.
Sting: CRY ME A RIVER! That has to be it.
If it was a pinfall match Jaka would be screwed – but to the surprise of Iggy and the ref Jaka comes to before the match can be called. Iggy is sad pushing the blood out of her eyes knowing she will have to take it to the next level to beat her friend.
Foote: None of these two want to call it quits. Both are bloody messes and they just don’t know when to quit.
Iggy now has Jaka positioned in a suplex at the bottom of the metal ramp. She hits a suplex, floats over, hits another suplex, floats over another walking them up the stage. Iggy nails suplex over suplex until she hits the top of the metal ramp.
Sting: I’ve never seen anything like that. It must have been seven suplexes in a row to get all the way up the ramp.
Iggy now has Jaka up in the air in a stalling suplex. She crowd is counting as Iggy holds her hands out gesturing for some more applause. It has to he a solid 30 seconds of blood rushing to Jaka’s head, pouring out of her skull and onto the chest of Iggy before the move is hit. Iggy drives Jaka down with a brian buster onto the metal stage. The crowd groans at the carnage and cheers at the athleticism.
Foote: That has to be it for Jaka.
Huffman once again checks over Jaka. The crowd cheers as Jaka grabs at Huffman’s pants and pull’s herself up – he shrugs gesturing to the crowd letting the match continue.
Sting: The amount of punishment Jaka has managed to withstand here tonight at Jonestown Reunion is absolutely unbelievable.
Iggy and Jaka keep battling through the back to the catering area where a table of meats, cheeses and other fancy nibbles are set up in a delicate spread. Beside the table of food is a scaffold used to the up the staging in the hangar. Iggy and Jaka battle as they climb 30 feet to the top of it.
Sting: After how much these two have taken out of each other. This match is more of a long sprint than a marathon and now – well someone is going to fall I just know it.
Iggy and Jaka are on top of the scaffold exchanging rights and lefts. Jaka hits a headbutt. Iggy hits a superkick –- both women stagger and wobble but neither of them fall. Until Jaka spears Iggy off the top sending them both down through the catering tables sending food, splinters and that purple drank flying.
Foote: On the replay it looks like the bottom half of both women went through the tables, but it looks like both hit the concrete on the other side it’s just a matter of who took the fall the worse.
Huffman is rifling through the debris to see if someone is still breathing. He’s checking both women out but the camera can’t get a good angle. Jaka stumbles to her feet for a second leaning against the brick wall hacking up blood. Huffman comes over and raises her hand.
DING! DING! DING!
Anderson: And the winner of this match JAKA!!!!
The crowd is buzzing as Jaka’s theme plays through the arena. She takes her shoes off, ties the laces together and gets in the face of the camera holding them up letting people know to get ahold of her to get the hook up. She puts the laced shoes over he neck and goes to help Iggy to her feet.
Both bloodied women support each other — keeping eachother standing as they make their way to the locker room.
Jaka and Iggy meet in the center of the ring and shake hands. The crowd cheers at the show of respect between the two fighters.
Sting: This is beautiful, both these women are just happy to come out here and battle one another ina grueling match just because they love this sport and respect one another.
Foote: Yeah, yeah, now kill each other.
Jaka runs at Iggy with a crossbody but she is caught and readjusted into a spine buster getting slammed to the ground. Jaka holds her back but gets back up and drop kicks Iggy knocking her down. Iggy back up. Iggy hits a superkick knocking Jaka back down to the mat.
Sting: It looks like Iggy wants to go for the pin, but how this match works is the ref has to call it and Jaka has penalty of fight left.
Jaka is up while Iggy hesitates and hits her in the ribs with some sharp rights and lefts. Jaka nails a jaw breaker. She bounces off the ropes and hits a tornado DDT on the rebound. Jaka knows what she has to do as soon as Iggy sits up she puts her back down with a knee to the face.
Foote: Jaka is smart, she didn’t take the pin in the New World Championship match at Manson Family Values. She sold those glass shoes she used. Hell she already has a match lined up for Vegas.
Iggy battles back with a belly to belly suplex – and now realizing she has to try and fucking kill Jaka to win she places her in the corer and runs driving a boot into the side of her jaw. Iggy grabs Jaka by the head and pulls her up. She grabs Jaka in a fall away slam and screams as she hoists her up and tosses her backward over the top rope onto the thin padding on the outside.
Sting: The strength! She almost tossed Jaka from the ring over the railing into the crowd.
Iggy keeps on the attack as JJ Huffman checks on Jaka and determines she can continue. Iggy grabs Jaka and throws her into the metal railing. She scoops Jaka up and pulls her to the corner portion of the railing. She starts viciously Irish whipping Jaka back and forth nailing her ribs off each railing over and over and over.
Foote: Some internal bleeding there. Blood is coming from the mouth of Jaka.
Jaka falls to her knees spitting blood on the ground. Iggy lifts her up and drops Jaka groin first down on the railing. Iggy then drags her back leaving Jaka’s legs on the railing and drops her down with an inverted DDT.
Sting: The ref checking on Jaka there and she still seems good to go as she is using the rail to get back to get feet there.
Iggy grabs a portion of the padding and peels it back to reveal the concrete bottom to the airport hangar. She goes over to Jaka and finds nothing but a fight. Jaka hits forearms, kicks, headbutts. Jaka kicks Iggy in the gut and pulls her back, dropping her on the top of her head with a piledriver right on the concrete. Iggy is bleeding right away, but Jaka helps her to her feet. Jaka nails a Canadian destroyer right on the exposed concrete; the knock of Iggy’s skull cracking on the ground can be heard in the hangar.
Sting: Call it a Nigerian destroyer because there two are putting it all on the line early.
Huffman checks Iggy and despite the blood soaking her hair and running down her face she continues. Jaka and Iggy start going at it once more. Jaka hits knee strikes and a hurricanrana. The momentum sends Iggy forward toward the time keeper table and she snaches up a chair swining it quick nailing Jaka in the skull.
Foote: She caught Jaka tere flush and she is now spurting blood from her forehead.
Iggy hits a bicycle kick. After damaging the ribs of Jaka earlier in the match Iggy wraps her arms around Jaka and starts squeezing. Jaka is bleeding from the mouth all down her chest It looks like she is fading. Huffman starts to check on her…
Sting: This could be it. We expected some sort of deathmatch, but this is just turning inro a brutal brawl. That bear hug is in deep.
Foote: Not gonna lie I love it. This is a new style of old school wrasslin and both them ladies are learning my respect.
Sting: I’m not sure they care Bill.
Jaka jabs her thumbs into the eye of Iggy forcing her to let her go of the hold. Iggy hits some elbows on the wound atop Iggy’s head. Jaka just puts her hand right under the ring apron and grabs the first thing her hand touches. Jaka smokes Iggy in the face with a hammer and slides in the ring.
Foote: Fuck it takes a friend to rearrange your face.
Jaka grabs over the top rope and hits a slingshot elbow drop.
Sting: JAKA BOOT V1!!! From inside the ring to the outside.
Huffman is checking on Iggy -- but Jaka puts Iggy on top of a table she created out of three chairs. One unfolded set across the base of two others. Jaka puts Iggy on top. Jaka climbs to the top rope as it is happening then she flips off the top rope with a moonsault double stomp.
Sting: Kicks on Fire from the top rope to the outside shoving Iggy through the chairs.
Huffman checks on Iggy and it looks like he is about to call it when she starts kicking her legs and shouting at him that she can still go. Jaka helps her friend up shaking her head. She slaps Iggy awake. Iggy returns the favor an once again both are punching each other over and over. Out of nowhere Iggy hits a quick package piledriver.
Foote: She calls that the phenomenon. What a perfect old school move, nothin’ fancy just drop a bitch on their head.
As Jaka gets back to her feet her head is nearly ripped off with a discus lariat.
Sting: CRY ME A RIVER! That has to be it.
If it was a pinfall match Jaka would be screwed – but to the surprise of Iggy and the ref Jaka comes to before the match can be called. Iggy is sad pushing the blood out of her eyes knowing she will have to take it to the next level to beat her friend.
Foote: None of these two want to call it quits. Both are bloody messes and they just don’t know when to quit.
Iggy now has Jaka positioned in a suplex at the bottom of the metal ramp. She hits a suplex, floats over, hits another suplex, floats over another walking them up the stage. Iggy nails suplex over suplex until she hits the top of the metal ramp.
Sting: I’ve never seen anything like that. It must have been seven suplexes in a row to get all the way up the ramp.
Iggy now has Jaka up in the air in a stalling suplex. She crowd is counting as Iggy holds her hands out gesturing for some more applause. It has to he a solid 30 seconds of blood rushing to Jaka’s head, pouring out of her skull and onto the chest of Iggy before the move is hit. Iggy drives Jaka down with a brian buster onto the metal stage. The crowd groans at the carnage and cheers at the athleticism.
Foote: That has to be it for Jaka.
Huffman once again checks over Jaka. The crowd cheers as Jaka grabs at Huffman’s pants and pull’s herself up – he shrugs gesturing to the crowd letting the match continue.
Sting: The amount of punishment Jaka has managed to withstand here tonight at Jonestown Reunion is absolutely unbelievable.
Iggy and Jaka keep battling through the back to the catering area where a table of meats, cheeses and other fancy nibbles are set up in a delicate spread. Beside the table of food is a scaffold used to the up the staging in the hangar. Iggy and Jaka battle as they climb 30 feet to the top of it.
Sting: After how much these two have taken out of each other. This match is more of a long sprint than a marathon and now – well someone is going to fall I just know it.
Iggy and Jaka are on top of the scaffold exchanging rights and lefts. Jaka hits a headbutt. Iggy hits a superkick –- both women stagger and wobble but neither of them fall. Until Jaka spears Iggy off the top sending them both down through the catering tables sending food, splinters and that purple drank flying.
Foote: On the replay it looks like the bottom half of both women went through the tables, but it looks like both hit the concrete on the other side it’s just a matter of who took the fall the worse.
Huffman is rifling through the debris to see if someone is still breathing. He’s checking both women out but the camera can’t get a good angle. Jaka stumbles to her feet for a second leaning against the brick wall hacking up blood. Huffman comes over and raises her hand.
DING! DING! DING!
Anderson: And the winner of this match JAKA!!!!
The crowd is buzzing as Jaka’s theme plays through the arena. She takes her shoes off, ties the laces together and gets in the face of the camera holding them up letting people know to get ahold of her to get the hook up. She puts the laced shoes over he neck and goes to help Iggy to her feet.
Both bloodied women support each other — keeping eachother standing as they make their way to the locker room.
"Blockbuster Night Part I" by Run The Jewels hits and the crowd starts to cheer as Owen Gonsalves appears at the top of the ramp. He has his trademark bomber jacket with a metallic union jack, he has PPV whites on and is holding the IJPW Strong Crown Championship.
Anderson: The next match is for the CU:LT Classic Championship. First coming to the ring standing 6’0, weighing in at 205lbs – from Melbourne, Australia "Wristlock Sinatra" himself OWEN GONSALVESSSSSS!!!!
Sting: He was the first person to sign up for CU:LT… much to management's surprise and it gave the company some legitimacy.
The only thing throwing off Owen’s look is a clear plastic face shield. He struts toward the ring, slapping some hands along the way.
Foote: Owen got his beak smashed at Murder She Wrote and it looks that injury could play a factor tonight. I know JD will want to rip that thing off.
Gonsalves slides into the ring and taunts holding up his championship, hoping to add another to his collection tonight. He cracks his neck and looks up the ramp getting ready for his opponent.
Sting: Owen Golsalves vs Brandon Moore for the CU:LT Classic Championship is not something I thought I was ever going to see when this company first formed. Moore made his presence felt at Manson Family Values essentially laying down the gauntlet to face Owen here tonight at Jonestown Reunion.
Ding! Ding! Ding!
Right away Owen and Moore lock up, Moore takes Owen down with an arm drag, but he floats over and returns the favor, dragging Moore down. Brandon to his feet again he hits another arm drag and this time twists Owen around into an armbar planting his elbow in his shoulder blade. Owen kicks free and grabs Moore by the ankle now locking in an ankle lock –- when Moore tries to kick him with the other leg Owen transitions to a knee bar. Moore breaks free and gets to his feet -– he gives Owen a nod as he slowly stands up.
Foote: Technical wrestling at its finest slapped in the middle of a card full of brutal violence and gimmicks, CU:LT has a little bit of something for everyone.
Sting: With how popular things are getting people might be fighting for roster spots soon enough.
Owen is the first to hit a big move snap suplexing Moore, then leaping up across his chest while he is down trying to twist his arm into a kimura lock. Moore twists out of it and gets back to his feet –- this time he is the one to toss Owen hitting a saito suplex. Owen gets back up quick and delivers a drop kick –- Moore is waiting for him when he gets back to his feet and hits OWEN with a spinning forearm. Moore grabs Owen in a headlock and suplexes him.
Sting: Owen using his technical ability to get things started but he isn't coming out on top.
Moore runs across the ring and kicks Gonsalves in the ribs – nothing fancy about it. He grabs Owen by the waist and deadlifts him up, tossing him overhead with a German Suplex.
1
2
3???!!!!!!
KICKOUT!!!
Foote: Fuck sake, close to getting a champion who can grow some chest hair.
Owen battles back with a European uppercut, then a chop, then a kick to the shin, a kick to the gut, he hits a dragon screw leg whip. Moore is back up shaking his leg from the torque and Owen hits a capture suplex. Moore bounces off the mat. Owen hits a snapmare, followed by a dropkick to the back of Moore’s head. He grabs Moore’s arm while he is on the ground and bends it into a hammer lock, Owen puts his elbow into Moore’s palm holding the hand in place. He then twists the other hand of Moore, bends his fingers back to manipulate them and plants them on the mat. He goes up in a quick hand stand coming down transitioning the knee from the back hammerlock down on the joint manipulated wrist and hand. Moore rolls across the ring trying to shake feeling back into his fingertips. He doesn’t have long though as Owen drives his knees into the spine and pulls him back transitioning into a bow and arrow.
Moore breaks free of the bow and arrow, but Owen is still kicking away -– Moore catches a leg and drags Owen toward him for a nasty closeline. Moore hits a snap fisherman plex.
1
2
KICKOUT!!!!
Foote: Keep on this violent little twink Moore.
Moore doesn’t even care, didn’t expect it to put Owen away -– but a fella has to try. He takes Gonsalves back to his feet and slaps the taste out of his mouth. Moore hits a backdrop suplex planting Owen on his neck. Moore gives his no chance to recover and hits a snap dragon on Gonsalves –- he makes the cover and JJ Huffman leaps into position.
1
2
3!!!?????
Foote: That's go to be it.
KICKOUT!!!!
Moore is pissed he ragdolls Owen back to his feet and hits a half nelson suplex. He walks over to the turnbuckle and rips apart the padding on the top rung. Owen is up and drop kicks him into it -– he hits his face but not enough to get any color and Gonsalves rolls him up.
Sting: Owen taking advantage there.
1
2
KICKOUT!!!!
Moore flips out and makes Gonsalves eat his knee. Owen has no chance to recover as Moore his a running bicycle kick to the face.
Foote: FUCK YOUR FACE! My favorite move on the roster.
1
2
3!!!????
KICKOUTTT!!!!
Sting: So close to having a new champion.
Owen fights back with a flurry of strikes. He hits a bicycle knee, then a bicycle kick – going fucking cycling all over Moore’s face. Golsalves hits a falcon arrow, then pulls Moore back up and Michinoku drives him back down to the canvas. Owen holds his hands up, getting the crowd behind him. Owen continues to put on a clinic with a butterfly suplex.
Sting: Owen Gonslaves showing why he is Classic Champion with the perfection there.
Owen has Moore tied up in a dragon sleeper -– Moore grabs the arms and muscles out. Gonsalves grabs Moore’s left arm and pulls sinking in a tight cross armbar. Moore looks like he might tap, but then twists his arm around breaking free of Owen’s grip -– but only finds himself locked into a koji clutch. Owen put pressure on trying to get Moore to quit.
Foote: Going to take more than twisiting a little to get Moore to cry unlce.
Moore wraps his feet around the lower rope -– JJ Huffman starts counting and Owen lets it get all the way to four before he lets go.
Sting: Owen trying to inflict every bit of damage he can.
Moore hits a shot to Owen’s gut. Moore nails a capture T-bone suplex. He stalks the CU:LT Classic Champion and throws him with an overhead belly to belly. Moore swings Owen to the ropes and hits a beautiful rotating powerslam.
Foote: Moore can change the momentum so quick.
Moore is raining elbow after elbow down into the shoulder and skull of Owen, rattling his brian over and over. Moore looks over to the exposed turnbuckle hook. He takes Owen up and starts laying forearm pushing Owen toward the corner. Gonsalves isn’t taking it lightly, nailing some kicks to Moore fighting back. Owen swings with a wild left, Moore ducks and hits a back drop toward the back corner. The back of Owen’s head comes down on the exposed turnbuckle and cracks him open. The crowd lets out a groan as Owen holds the back of his head –- crimson pouring through the cracks in his fingers.
Foote: Holy fuck you might be able to see the little pricks brain and skull.
Moore walks over slowly and starts kicking Owen in the head over and over bouncing the back of his head off the mat leaving little blotches of red with each and every impact. Moore grabs the face of Gonsalves with his hand and starts bouncing his noggin off the fucking canvas like a basketball – for a moment Owen’s legs go limp and it looks like Huffman is about to call it – -but the legs of Gonsalves start twitching. Moore raises his hand to the crowd now chanting for Owen gets up -– the effects of the Flavor-Aid they’re drinking taking full effect as the whole audience falls in love with Gonsalves all at once and starts chatting his name. As if he can hear them Owen gets to his feet and tells Moore to keep fucking bringing it.
Sting: A true fighting spirit from Owen Gonsalves.
Owen gets exactly what he wants as he is hoisted up on the shoulders of Moore, as he swings Owen down toward the mat he flips all the way through rolling Moore into a pin.
1
2
3???!!!!!
KICKOUT!!!!
Owen’s grip slips, losing so much blood already. Moore is the one to scoop Owen up – just in time to shoot his eyes up the ramp to see his good friend Vincent Black with a briefcase.
Sting: Owen didn't get the hook in well, too much blood to gt a good grip.
Moore doesn’t let Black appearing endanger his championship shot though he stomps at the head of Owen once again. Moore hits an Argentine DDT -– focusing on adding more trauma to the bleeding back of the head of Gonsalves which is making his hair look almost jet black. Moore executes a pumphandle flipping release half nelson suplex.
Foote: Keep an eye on the task don't worry about Black. You have a title to win Moore.
Moore throws the bloodied champion once again with a fall way pumphandle slam. Vincent Black on the outside sets his briefcase at his feet and claps as Moore continues the assault.
Foote: Don't pay atteniont to him Moore, win this funkin' strap son.
Moore hooks the arms of Owen behind him and lifts him up for a snap dragon, but Owen takes the momentum down and forward grabbing the back of Moore’s head pulling him over the top of himself and locking in a rear naked choke.
Sting: Oh, Black coming down here has Moore in a tough situation.
Owen sinks the choke in deep, pulling tight, Moore’s face is turning red like it’s about to fucking pop from the pressure -– but his figthing spirit lives tossing back elbows –- Owen just transitions to an arm trap crossface and pulls back hard bending the spine of Moore trying to break his fucking back –- Owen is screaming and pulling with all he has -– but his eyes start to roll in the back of his head -– his grip slips -– too much blood lost.
Foote: That's right Owen is weak! Weak I tell you.
Moore gets back up and cracks his neck as he grabs Owen by the head and pulls him to his feet. He slaps Owen across the face once, it doesn’t do shit, twice and he’s still dozing –- a third slap wakes Owen up. Moore puts Gonsalves up on his shoulders and drops him on his neck with a one armed electric chair drop.
Foote: THE EVERBLACK!!!!
1
2
3!!!????
DING! DING! DING!
Anderson: The winner of this match and NEW CU:LT Classic Champion BRANDON MOORE!
Foote: Just like I thought, Owen put out a match of a lifetime last month, but I knew he didn’t have that killer instinct. Moore did what it took tonight.
Moore’s music hits and he snaches his new championship from JJ Huffman as his music hits. Moore walks over to Black who has now entered the ring getting face to face -– Black just lets the briefcase fall and both men look down at the contents that spill out on the canvas –- several casino chips… the challenge being blatantly laid out for What Happens in Vegas.. at the end of May.
Sting: That's going to be a hell of a first match up for our new CU:LT Classic Champion.
The scene cuts as Moore, CU:LT Classic Championship slung over his shoulder, stares at Black in the center of the blood stained ring.
Anderson: The next match is for the CU:LT Classic Championship. First coming to the ring standing 6’0, weighing in at 205lbs – from Melbourne, Australia "Wristlock Sinatra" himself OWEN GONSALVESSSSSS!!!!
Sting: He was the first person to sign up for CU:LT… much to management's surprise and it gave the company some legitimacy.
The only thing throwing off Owen’s look is a clear plastic face shield. He struts toward the ring, slapping some hands along the way.
Foote: Owen got his beak smashed at Murder She Wrote and it looks that injury could play a factor tonight. I know JD will want to rip that thing off.
Gonsalves slides into the ring and taunts holding up his championship, hoping to add another to his collection tonight. He cracks his neck and looks up the ramp getting ready for his opponent.
Sting: Owen Golsalves vs Brandon Moore for the CU:LT Classic Championship is not something I thought I was ever going to see when this company first formed. Moore made his presence felt at Manson Family Values essentially laying down the gauntlet to face Owen here tonight at Jonestown Reunion.
Ding! Ding! Ding!
Right away Owen and Moore lock up, Moore takes Owen down with an arm drag, but he floats over and returns the favor, dragging Moore down. Brandon to his feet again he hits another arm drag and this time twists Owen around into an armbar planting his elbow in his shoulder blade. Owen kicks free and grabs Moore by the ankle now locking in an ankle lock –- when Moore tries to kick him with the other leg Owen transitions to a knee bar. Moore breaks free and gets to his feet -– he gives Owen a nod as he slowly stands up.
Foote: Technical wrestling at its finest slapped in the middle of a card full of brutal violence and gimmicks, CU:LT has a little bit of something for everyone.
Sting: With how popular things are getting people might be fighting for roster spots soon enough.
Owen is the first to hit a big move snap suplexing Moore, then leaping up across his chest while he is down trying to twist his arm into a kimura lock. Moore twists out of it and gets back to his feet –- this time he is the one to toss Owen hitting a saito suplex. Owen gets back up quick and delivers a drop kick –- Moore is waiting for him when he gets back to his feet and hits OWEN with a spinning forearm. Moore grabs Owen in a headlock and suplexes him.
Sting: Owen using his technical ability to get things started but he isn't coming out on top.
Moore runs across the ring and kicks Gonsalves in the ribs – nothing fancy about it. He grabs Owen by the waist and deadlifts him up, tossing him overhead with a German Suplex.
1
2
3???!!!!!!
KICKOUT!!!
Foote: Fuck sake, close to getting a champion who can grow some chest hair.
Owen battles back with a European uppercut, then a chop, then a kick to the shin, a kick to the gut, he hits a dragon screw leg whip. Moore is back up shaking his leg from the torque and Owen hits a capture suplex. Moore bounces off the mat. Owen hits a snapmare, followed by a dropkick to the back of Moore’s head. He grabs Moore’s arm while he is on the ground and bends it into a hammer lock, Owen puts his elbow into Moore’s palm holding the hand in place. He then twists the other hand of Moore, bends his fingers back to manipulate them and plants them on the mat. He goes up in a quick hand stand coming down transitioning the knee from the back hammerlock down on the joint manipulated wrist and hand. Moore rolls across the ring trying to shake feeling back into his fingertips. He doesn’t have long though as Owen drives his knees into the spine and pulls him back transitioning into a bow and arrow.
Moore breaks free of the bow and arrow, but Owen is still kicking away -– Moore catches a leg and drags Owen toward him for a nasty closeline. Moore hits a snap fisherman plex.
1
2
KICKOUT!!!!
Foote: Keep on this violent little twink Moore.
Moore doesn’t even care, didn’t expect it to put Owen away -– but a fella has to try. He takes Gonsalves back to his feet and slaps the taste out of his mouth. Moore hits a backdrop suplex planting Owen on his neck. Moore gives his no chance to recover and hits a snap dragon on Gonsalves –- he makes the cover and JJ Huffman leaps into position.
1
2
3!!!?????
Foote: That's go to be it.
KICKOUT!!!!
Moore is pissed he ragdolls Owen back to his feet and hits a half nelson suplex. He walks over to the turnbuckle and rips apart the padding on the top rung. Owen is up and drop kicks him into it -– he hits his face but not enough to get any color and Gonsalves rolls him up.
Sting: Owen taking advantage there.
1
2
KICKOUT!!!!
Moore flips out and makes Gonsalves eat his knee. Owen has no chance to recover as Moore his a running bicycle kick to the face.
Foote: FUCK YOUR FACE! My favorite move on the roster.
1
2
3!!!????
KICKOUTTT!!!!
Sting: So close to having a new champion.
Owen fights back with a flurry of strikes. He hits a bicycle knee, then a bicycle kick – going fucking cycling all over Moore’s face. Golsalves hits a falcon arrow, then pulls Moore back up and Michinoku drives him back down to the canvas. Owen holds his hands up, getting the crowd behind him. Owen continues to put on a clinic with a butterfly suplex.
Sting: Owen Gonslaves showing why he is Classic Champion with the perfection there.
Owen has Moore tied up in a dragon sleeper -– Moore grabs the arms and muscles out. Gonsalves grabs Moore’s left arm and pulls sinking in a tight cross armbar. Moore looks like he might tap, but then twists his arm around breaking free of Owen’s grip -– but only finds himself locked into a koji clutch. Owen put pressure on trying to get Moore to quit.
Foote: Going to take more than twisiting a little to get Moore to cry unlce.
Moore wraps his feet around the lower rope -– JJ Huffman starts counting and Owen lets it get all the way to four before he lets go.
Sting: Owen trying to inflict every bit of damage he can.
Moore hits a shot to Owen’s gut. Moore nails a capture T-bone suplex. He stalks the CU:LT Classic Champion and throws him with an overhead belly to belly. Moore swings Owen to the ropes and hits a beautiful rotating powerslam.
Foote: Moore can change the momentum so quick.
Moore is raining elbow after elbow down into the shoulder and skull of Owen, rattling his brian over and over. Moore looks over to the exposed turnbuckle hook. He takes Owen up and starts laying forearm pushing Owen toward the corner. Gonsalves isn’t taking it lightly, nailing some kicks to Moore fighting back. Owen swings with a wild left, Moore ducks and hits a back drop toward the back corner. The back of Owen’s head comes down on the exposed turnbuckle and cracks him open. The crowd lets out a groan as Owen holds the back of his head –- crimson pouring through the cracks in his fingers.
Foote: Holy fuck you might be able to see the little pricks brain and skull.
Moore walks over slowly and starts kicking Owen in the head over and over bouncing the back of his head off the mat leaving little blotches of red with each and every impact. Moore grabs the face of Gonsalves with his hand and starts bouncing his noggin off the fucking canvas like a basketball – for a moment Owen’s legs go limp and it looks like Huffman is about to call it – -but the legs of Gonsalves start twitching. Moore raises his hand to the crowd now chanting for Owen gets up -– the effects of the Flavor-Aid they’re drinking taking full effect as the whole audience falls in love with Gonsalves all at once and starts chatting his name. As if he can hear them Owen gets to his feet and tells Moore to keep fucking bringing it.
Sting: A true fighting spirit from Owen Gonsalves.
Owen gets exactly what he wants as he is hoisted up on the shoulders of Moore, as he swings Owen down toward the mat he flips all the way through rolling Moore into a pin.
1
2
3???!!!!!
KICKOUT!!!!
Owen’s grip slips, losing so much blood already. Moore is the one to scoop Owen up – just in time to shoot his eyes up the ramp to see his good friend Vincent Black with a briefcase.
Sting: Owen didn't get the hook in well, too much blood to gt a good grip.
Moore doesn’t let Black appearing endanger his championship shot though he stomps at the head of Owen once again. Moore hits an Argentine DDT -– focusing on adding more trauma to the bleeding back of the head of Gonsalves which is making his hair look almost jet black. Moore executes a pumphandle flipping release half nelson suplex.
Foote: Keep an eye on the task don't worry about Black. You have a title to win Moore.
Moore throws the bloodied champion once again with a fall way pumphandle slam. Vincent Black on the outside sets his briefcase at his feet and claps as Moore continues the assault.
Foote: Don't pay atteniont to him Moore, win this funkin' strap son.
Moore hooks the arms of Owen behind him and lifts him up for a snap dragon, but Owen takes the momentum down and forward grabbing the back of Moore’s head pulling him over the top of himself and locking in a rear naked choke.
Sting: Oh, Black coming down here has Moore in a tough situation.
Owen sinks the choke in deep, pulling tight, Moore’s face is turning red like it’s about to fucking pop from the pressure -– but his figthing spirit lives tossing back elbows –- Owen just transitions to an arm trap crossface and pulls back hard bending the spine of Moore trying to break his fucking back –- Owen is screaming and pulling with all he has -– but his eyes start to roll in the back of his head -– his grip slips -– too much blood lost.
Foote: That's right Owen is weak! Weak I tell you.
Moore gets back up and cracks his neck as he grabs Owen by the head and pulls him to his feet. He slaps Owen across the face once, it doesn’t do shit, twice and he’s still dozing –- a third slap wakes Owen up. Moore puts Gonsalves up on his shoulders and drops him on his neck with a one armed electric chair drop.
Foote: THE EVERBLACK!!!!
1
2
3!!!????
DING! DING! DING!
Anderson: The winner of this match and NEW CU:LT Classic Champion BRANDON MOORE!
Foote: Just like I thought, Owen put out a match of a lifetime last month, but I knew he didn’t have that killer instinct. Moore did what it took tonight.
Moore’s music hits and he snaches his new championship from JJ Huffman as his music hits. Moore walks over to Black who has now entered the ring getting face to face -– Black just lets the briefcase fall and both men look down at the contents that spill out on the canvas –- several casino chips… the challenge being blatantly laid out for What Happens in Vegas.. at the end of May.
Sting: That's going to be a hell of a first match up for our new CU:LT Classic Champion.
The scene cuts as Moore, CU:LT Classic Championship slung over his shoulder, stares at Black in the center of the blood stained ring.
Bibi wasn't talking to the people around him -- after three glasses of the purple juice he was rolling as hard as they were. They cheered every slam, every mundane hold, every crash in the ring and he found himself doing the same. Unable not to scream with the crowd.
He was thinking up wrestler names, show names, venues where people could fight. He slugged back the drink again looking up at the posters lining the arena of the fighters who are part of CU:LT.
That's what he wanted to be and if he couldn't achieve that he'd give his whole life to following the sport. Getting into internet arguments about finishes, standing in long lines for autographs, going to run down halls to watch men poke each other in the head with kitchen utensils.
He felt himself no longer worried about the outside world. What was going on around him. He'd spend hours searching the internet for obscure independent Russian wrestling. He'll stay up til 3 a.m. watching a match he knew the finish to just to be late for work and be too embarrassed to talk to colleagues about his new found passion.
Watching men in tights pretending to be heros.
He was already endoctored. Already part of the CU:LT. He had given his life over to wrestling fandom. A chill ran down his spine as the theme of Donnie Hopkins hit.
He was thinking up wrestler names, show names, venues where people could fight. He slugged back the drink again looking up at the posters lining the arena of the fighters who are part of CU:LT.
That's what he wanted to be and if he couldn't achieve that he'd give his whole life to following the sport. Getting into internet arguments about finishes, standing in long lines for autographs, going to run down halls to watch men poke each other in the head with kitchen utensils.
He felt himself no longer worried about the outside world. What was going on around him. He'd spend hours searching the internet for obscure independent Russian wrestling. He'll stay up til 3 a.m. watching a match he knew the finish to just to be late for work and be too embarrassed to talk to colleagues about his new found passion.
Watching men in tights pretending to be heros.
He was already endoctored. Already part of the CU:LT. He had given his life over to wrestling fandom. A chill ran down his spine as the theme of Donnie Hopkins hit.
At the top of the stage two make shift graves have been created. Two piles of dirt with holes six feet deep, shovels stationed by both as well a bulldozer not far from each hole.
Anderson: And it's time for the main event. This is a buried alive match for the New World Championship.
Sting: This is going to be a tough match for the world champion. I think Jane has a little more experience around graves.
Foote: I don't know about that, Hopkins has a pretty insane past Stacy.
“The Man Who Made a Monster” by Dance with the Dead begins to play over the P.A., it’s driving beat permeating through the arena. Gradually, Donnie Hopkins saunters out to the dismay of everyone in attendance, the New World Championship around his waist.
Anderson; First coming to the ring standing 6’2” weighing in at 248lbs from Brooklyn, New York… CU:LT New World Champion The Journeyman DONNIE HOPKINS!
He looks out into the crowd with a snide snarl before he walks raptly to the ring. He wipes his boots on the outside apron before entering and quickly takes off his jacket. He heads to his corner and impatiently waits for the match to start.
Zombie” by the Cranberries begins to play on the PA system as the lights on stage fade to black. The audience pulls their phones out to help the camera search the crowd for the mysterious Jane.
Sting: One of the most terrfying women in wrestling. The mystery around Jane Doe always keeps who she is up against guessing.
Anderson: Now coming to the ring from The Potters Field standing 5’6 weighting 147lbs Voice of the Victim JANNNNNEEEE DOEEEEE!
As the music lowers and the leading riff plays, the Voice of the Victim steps from one of the entrance followed by the Speaker of the Dead. Fans reach towards her, hesitant as she slowly walks through the crowd. Upon reaching the ring, Jane slides in and crawl towards the center as Sound stands patiently ringside.
Sting: Jane is one of the most unique women in the business…
Jane explores each corner, pulling herself onto the second buckle. She stares inquisitively into the crowd -- then toward the graves -- then across the ring at Donnie.
DING! DING! DING!
Donnie stares death in the fucking eyes. Jane tilts her head slowly observing the New World Champion as she steps forward at an eerily calm pace. Donnie snorts, shrugs a bit and goes to war. He starts backing Jane up with right after right after right. Jane ducks a predictable right from the champion and snaps a few lefts into his face followed by a headbutt.
Foote: Donnie showing early he has no problem using whatever tool he has at his disposal, and that time it just happened to be his noggin.
Jane is stopped by a kick to the gut and an elbow to the top of the head then Hopkins drives her head down with a snap DDT. Hopkins keeps hitting Jane with strikes then swings her to the ropes, she comes back with a Lou Thesz press and starts punching and scratching at Hopkins.
Sting; So much fire in the challenger, but it's hard to tell if she even knows she is in a match for a world title though. I think that's where The Sound of Death comes in.
Donnie manages to roll over and lay a few elbows into Jane before she kicks him off and both of them get back to their feet. Jane hits a drop kick, then a running knee. Jane tosses Donnie to the corner and follows Donnie there with a corner splash. When he staggers out she runs at him once more and does a front flip catching him on the crown of the head with her heel.
Sting: Perfectly placed rolling thunder there, just perfectly accurate.
The Death Rattler is pleased on the outside of her ring. Donnie hauls himself up with the ropes to meet a headbutt from Doe. Donnie is staggered, but hits an uppercut –- he tosses Doe to the ropes and follows right behind her closelineing her over the top rope -– but taking himself out over the top too, both of them hitting the ring apron before nailing padding outside.
Foote: Both of them really giving there all here Stacy. This little lady could be more than Ol' Donnie boy can hanlde in his old age.
Donnie and Jane battle up the metal ramp –- hitting punches and kicks -– but no one seems to be able to hit any powerful moves as they jockey for control of the match. Donnie kicks Doe in the gut and goes behind her hitting a back body drop on the rampway. Jane isn’t down for long forcing Hopkins to have to drive her head down into the metal ramp with a DDT. Jane claws at him, crawls away getting back to her feet quick heading toward the top of the ramp where there are two piles of dirt -– fresh six foot deep graves.
Sting: You'd think Jane might be scared of graves given her past, but if you climb out once you can climb out again.
Hopkins starts raining down punches on the top of Jane’s head -– when he thinks that isn’t going to be enough he picks up a shovel, but mid swing Jane kicks him below the belt. As he leans forward she hits an inverted atomic drop –- then rakes Donnie’s eyes. She grabs the shovel and nails Donnie between the eyes. He’s bleeding right away and Jane steps over him and pulls the shovel back into his throat choking the bloodied New World Champion.
Foote: C'mon Donnie we can't let a freak become the champion. There is already a circus based fed this bitch can go join.
Donnie fades and looks almost as if he is passed out. Jane starts dragging Donnie to the grave labeled with his name. She grabs the shovel once more and cracks the champion a few times over on the spine and upper back. Donnie kicking in the dirt trying to scramble away from the shots.
Foote: First time we have seen the champion reeling like this. He dominated portions of the triple threat main event at Manson Family Values where he won the championship.
Donnie throws a handful of dirt into the eyes of Jane. He then spears her off the dirt onto the base of the stage once more. He picks her up and nails a forearm before slamming her with a classic powerslam. Donnie wipes the dirt and blood out of his face and hits a northern lights suplex tossing Jane toward her gravesite.
Foote: Fuck yes, Donnie Hopkins will do whatever the hell it takes to stay on top now he has finally made it. Pick that shovel up and bury this bitch again.
Jane is up and eats the end of the shovel. The Death Rattler stands ominously at the bottom of the ramp looking on, trying to will Jane on. Every once and while Rattle puts her hand out, pointing two fingers toward Jane almost willing her to rise each time to falls. As Doe stands Donnie puts her back down with a shot from the shovel. He walks over to her and looks at Ratle before he lifts the shovel over his head and nails it down once cracking Jane’s head between the metal of the shovel and the ramp. He does it once more with a huge clank of steel on steel. Donnie lets out a scream at the cheating crowd in a complete frenzy from CU:LT’s special Flavor-Aid.
Sting: Donnie really turning this one around and taking control now. Maybe he was playing the long game here.
Donnie looks back at the hole in the ground meant for Jane. He grabs her by the waist and throws her overhead right down into the hold with a German suplex. The crowd pops as Jane disappears into the ground.
Foote: HOLY FUCK! I have never seen anything like that in my life. Jane might be crippled at the bottom of that grave.
Donnie starts kicking dirt into the hole on top of Jane, he grabs the shovel and starts filling it. He’s getting close to covering Jane’s body, but she scurries up like an insect and latches onto his leg with a vice-like grip. Jane manages to pull Donnie down into her grave and the two start striking at one another… Donnie hits a headbutt and in response Jane bites at the bloody wound on his forehead causing him to holler out.
Foote: Jesus chrst is cananbilism legal in the country or something?
Jane and Donnie climb out of the grave and start battling across the stage again. Jane hits a tight pull piledriver driving the champion's head into the stage. She then swipes her hand across a table holding some sound equipment -– causing the feed to distort for a moment.
Stacy: Jesus Chri.....
Jane puts the table over the top of the gravesite with Donnie’s name on it. Hopkins hits her from behind and now they are battling on the table with the six foot hold beneath it. Jane drags Donnie down hitting his head off the tombstone one -- twice- three times -- til he is groggy.
Foote: She's trying to open up Donnie's skull like an egg.
Jane looks at the small bulldozer by the grave for the first time and climbs to the top of it. The Death Rattler has her arms raised and as she swing them down Jane leaps off of the bulldozer driving her two feet down into the chest of the champion crashing through the table and into the grave.
Sting: UNMARKED GRAVE FROM THE TOP OF THE BULLDOZER!
Foote: And she might just mark this one if she didn’t kill herself again in the process.
Donnie and Jane lay in a pile of splinters and dirt at the bottom of the grave. Jane is the first to stir. She slowly slinks out of the grave and starts pushing dirt onto Donnie Hopkins who hasn’t stirred yet. Jane walks over to the bull dozer to finish the job, but out of no where there is Hopkins pulling her out of the drivers seat. He’s bloody and covered in dirt –- he's looking like a crazed horror movie killer going up against a zombie. He slaps Jane’s arm in the door of the bull dozer, then slams it with all his might on her skull. Jane’s body goes limp and just tumbles out of the cab.
Sting: How is Donnie Hopkins still in this match?
Hopkins now has Jane on his shoulders walking her back across the stage to her grave site. When he gets to the ramp he slams her down hard with a powerslam just to ensure she is out for the time needed to win the match.
Foote: There we go. Donnie has had enough and just went midevil on her undead ass.
Donnie puts Jane on his shoulders and is carrying her across the stage –- she slips off his back and pulls him backward dragging him down to the ground putting spiking her two knees up into his back.
Sting: CENOTAPH!!!!!
Jane grabs a groggy Donnie and throws him into the headstone with his own name on it, then she bashes his head over and over against the stone -- his face a mash of blood and bruising. She has his head against the slab and runs with a knee nailing it between herself and the stone.
Foote: Oh my god she is going to turn Donnie’s head to ground beef.
Donnie falls down into his grave and Jane starts pushing her fingers through the dirt pushing it into the hole. When Donnie is covered Jane enters the bulldozer as The Sound of Death looks on in pride. Jane finishes filling in the hole.
Sting: I don’t believe this, I think she had done what no one else could ever do… put Danger Donnie out of his fucking misery.
DING! DING! DING!
Anderson: THE WINNER OF THIS MATCH AND NEW NEW WORLD CHAMPION JANNNEEEE DOEEEEE!!!!!
Jane doesn’t even react, he head slinks to the side as she looks at the grave with Donnie’s name, then looks back to the one with her name on it with a look of sorrow. The Sound of Death makes her way up the ramp holding the championship loosely in her hand.
Foote: I can’t believe we have some zombie fucking bitch as the New World Champion. For fuck sakes Donnie.
As Death holds the championship up and Jane reaches her fingers out touching the gold, the dirt of Donnie’s grave rustles and his head pops out, him hollering and grinding dirt in his teeth.
Sting: It looks like Donnie ain't dead yet! See you all in at What Happens in Vegas... next month on wrestlecult.com.
The scene fades to black.
Anderson: And it's time for the main event. This is a buried alive match for the New World Championship.
Sting: This is going to be a tough match for the world champion. I think Jane has a little more experience around graves.
Foote: I don't know about that, Hopkins has a pretty insane past Stacy.
“The Man Who Made a Monster” by Dance with the Dead begins to play over the P.A., it’s driving beat permeating through the arena. Gradually, Donnie Hopkins saunters out to the dismay of everyone in attendance, the New World Championship around his waist.
Anderson; First coming to the ring standing 6’2” weighing in at 248lbs from Brooklyn, New York… CU:LT New World Champion The Journeyman DONNIE HOPKINS!
He looks out into the crowd with a snide snarl before he walks raptly to the ring. He wipes his boots on the outside apron before entering and quickly takes off his jacket. He heads to his corner and impatiently waits for the match to start.
Zombie” by the Cranberries begins to play on the PA system as the lights on stage fade to black. The audience pulls their phones out to help the camera search the crowd for the mysterious Jane.
Sting: One of the most terrfying women in wrestling. The mystery around Jane Doe always keeps who she is up against guessing.
Anderson: Now coming to the ring from The Potters Field standing 5’6 weighting 147lbs Voice of the Victim JANNNNNEEEE DOEEEEE!
As the music lowers and the leading riff plays, the Voice of the Victim steps from one of the entrance followed by the Speaker of the Dead. Fans reach towards her, hesitant as she slowly walks through the crowd. Upon reaching the ring, Jane slides in and crawl towards the center as Sound stands patiently ringside.
Sting: Jane is one of the most unique women in the business…
Jane explores each corner, pulling herself onto the second buckle. She stares inquisitively into the crowd -- then toward the graves -- then across the ring at Donnie.
DING! DING! DING!
Donnie stares death in the fucking eyes. Jane tilts her head slowly observing the New World Champion as she steps forward at an eerily calm pace. Donnie snorts, shrugs a bit and goes to war. He starts backing Jane up with right after right after right. Jane ducks a predictable right from the champion and snaps a few lefts into his face followed by a headbutt.
Foote: Donnie showing early he has no problem using whatever tool he has at his disposal, and that time it just happened to be his noggin.
Jane is stopped by a kick to the gut and an elbow to the top of the head then Hopkins drives her head down with a snap DDT. Hopkins keeps hitting Jane with strikes then swings her to the ropes, she comes back with a Lou Thesz press and starts punching and scratching at Hopkins.
Sting; So much fire in the challenger, but it's hard to tell if she even knows she is in a match for a world title though. I think that's where The Sound of Death comes in.
Donnie manages to roll over and lay a few elbows into Jane before she kicks him off and both of them get back to their feet. Jane hits a drop kick, then a running knee. Jane tosses Donnie to the corner and follows Donnie there with a corner splash. When he staggers out she runs at him once more and does a front flip catching him on the crown of the head with her heel.
Sting: Perfectly placed rolling thunder there, just perfectly accurate.
The Death Rattler is pleased on the outside of her ring. Donnie hauls himself up with the ropes to meet a headbutt from Doe. Donnie is staggered, but hits an uppercut –- he tosses Doe to the ropes and follows right behind her closelineing her over the top rope -– but taking himself out over the top too, both of them hitting the ring apron before nailing padding outside.
Foote: Both of them really giving there all here Stacy. This little lady could be more than Ol' Donnie boy can hanlde in his old age.
Donnie and Jane battle up the metal ramp –- hitting punches and kicks -– but no one seems to be able to hit any powerful moves as they jockey for control of the match. Donnie kicks Doe in the gut and goes behind her hitting a back body drop on the rampway. Jane isn’t down for long forcing Hopkins to have to drive her head down into the metal ramp with a DDT. Jane claws at him, crawls away getting back to her feet quick heading toward the top of the ramp where there are two piles of dirt -– fresh six foot deep graves.
Sting: You'd think Jane might be scared of graves given her past, but if you climb out once you can climb out again.
Hopkins starts raining down punches on the top of Jane’s head -– when he thinks that isn’t going to be enough he picks up a shovel, but mid swing Jane kicks him below the belt. As he leans forward she hits an inverted atomic drop –- then rakes Donnie’s eyes. She grabs the shovel and nails Donnie between the eyes. He’s bleeding right away and Jane steps over him and pulls the shovel back into his throat choking the bloodied New World Champion.
Foote: C'mon Donnie we can't let a freak become the champion. There is already a circus based fed this bitch can go join.
Donnie fades and looks almost as if he is passed out. Jane starts dragging Donnie to the grave labeled with his name. She grabs the shovel once more and cracks the champion a few times over on the spine and upper back. Donnie kicking in the dirt trying to scramble away from the shots.
Foote: First time we have seen the champion reeling like this. He dominated portions of the triple threat main event at Manson Family Values where he won the championship.
Donnie throws a handful of dirt into the eyes of Jane. He then spears her off the dirt onto the base of the stage once more. He picks her up and nails a forearm before slamming her with a classic powerslam. Donnie wipes the dirt and blood out of his face and hits a northern lights suplex tossing Jane toward her gravesite.
Foote: Fuck yes, Donnie Hopkins will do whatever the hell it takes to stay on top now he has finally made it. Pick that shovel up and bury this bitch again.
Jane is up and eats the end of the shovel. The Death Rattler stands ominously at the bottom of the ramp looking on, trying to will Jane on. Every once and while Rattle puts her hand out, pointing two fingers toward Jane almost willing her to rise each time to falls. As Doe stands Donnie puts her back down with a shot from the shovel. He walks over to her and looks at Ratle before he lifts the shovel over his head and nails it down once cracking Jane’s head between the metal of the shovel and the ramp. He does it once more with a huge clank of steel on steel. Donnie lets out a scream at the cheating crowd in a complete frenzy from CU:LT’s special Flavor-Aid.
Sting: Donnie really turning this one around and taking control now. Maybe he was playing the long game here.
Donnie looks back at the hole in the ground meant for Jane. He grabs her by the waist and throws her overhead right down into the hold with a German suplex. The crowd pops as Jane disappears into the ground.
Foote: HOLY FUCK! I have never seen anything like that in my life. Jane might be crippled at the bottom of that grave.
Donnie starts kicking dirt into the hole on top of Jane, he grabs the shovel and starts filling it. He’s getting close to covering Jane’s body, but she scurries up like an insect and latches onto his leg with a vice-like grip. Jane manages to pull Donnie down into her grave and the two start striking at one another… Donnie hits a headbutt and in response Jane bites at the bloody wound on his forehead causing him to holler out.
Foote: Jesus chrst is cananbilism legal in the country or something?
Jane and Donnie climb out of the grave and start battling across the stage again. Jane hits a tight pull piledriver driving the champion's head into the stage. She then swipes her hand across a table holding some sound equipment -– causing the feed to distort for a moment.
Stacy: Jesus Chri.....
Jane puts the table over the top of the gravesite with Donnie’s name on it. Hopkins hits her from behind and now they are battling on the table with the six foot hold beneath it. Jane drags Donnie down hitting his head off the tombstone one -- twice- three times -- til he is groggy.
Foote: She's trying to open up Donnie's skull like an egg.
Jane looks at the small bulldozer by the grave for the first time and climbs to the top of it. The Death Rattler has her arms raised and as she swing them down Jane leaps off of the bulldozer driving her two feet down into the chest of the champion crashing through the table and into the grave.
Sting: UNMARKED GRAVE FROM THE TOP OF THE BULLDOZER!
Foote: And she might just mark this one if she didn’t kill herself again in the process.
Donnie and Jane lay in a pile of splinters and dirt at the bottom of the grave. Jane is the first to stir. She slowly slinks out of the grave and starts pushing dirt onto Donnie Hopkins who hasn’t stirred yet. Jane walks over to the bull dozer to finish the job, but out of no where there is Hopkins pulling her out of the drivers seat. He’s bloody and covered in dirt –- he's looking like a crazed horror movie killer going up against a zombie. He slaps Jane’s arm in the door of the bull dozer, then slams it with all his might on her skull. Jane’s body goes limp and just tumbles out of the cab.
Sting: How is Donnie Hopkins still in this match?
Hopkins now has Jane on his shoulders walking her back across the stage to her grave site. When he gets to the ramp he slams her down hard with a powerslam just to ensure she is out for the time needed to win the match.
Foote: There we go. Donnie has had enough and just went midevil on her undead ass.
Donnie puts Jane on his shoulders and is carrying her across the stage –- she slips off his back and pulls him backward dragging him down to the ground putting spiking her two knees up into his back.
Sting: CENOTAPH!!!!!
Jane grabs a groggy Donnie and throws him into the headstone with his own name on it, then she bashes his head over and over against the stone -- his face a mash of blood and bruising. She has his head against the slab and runs with a knee nailing it between herself and the stone.
Foote: Oh my god she is going to turn Donnie’s head to ground beef.
Donnie falls down into his grave and Jane starts pushing her fingers through the dirt pushing it into the hole. When Donnie is covered Jane enters the bulldozer as The Sound of Death looks on in pride. Jane finishes filling in the hole.
Sting: I don’t believe this, I think she had done what no one else could ever do… put Danger Donnie out of his fucking misery.
DING! DING! DING!
Anderson: THE WINNER OF THIS MATCH AND NEW NEW WORLD CHAMPION JANNNEEEE DOEEEEE!!!!!
Jane doesn’t even react, he head slinks to the side as she looks at the grave with Donnie’s name, then looks back to the one with her name on it with a look of sorrow. The Sound of Death makes her way up the ramp holding the championship loosely in her hand.
Foote: I can’t believe we have some zombie fucking bitch as the New World Champion. For fuck sakes Donnie.
As Death holds the championship up and Jane reaches her fingers out touching the gold, the dirt of Donnie’s grave rustles and his head pops out, him hollering and grinding dirt in his teeth.
Sting: It looks like Donnie ain't dead yet! See you all in at What Happens in Vegas... next month on wrestlecult.com.
The scene fades to black.
