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A video package flickers on across the screen, showing the new breed of the OWF. Press on these tannins Of course the law is fountains The video shows highlights of the past year in the OWF, dating up to the latest events at Holiday Bash, and recent Addictions. You're right, I get it Do you want enough? As the vocals fade out, the logo of the OWF is fixated on the screen before fading out to black.
Instead of the normal opening, the song "Motel of the White Locust" by Glassjaw hits the PA System, silencing the crowd before they can explode. The arena remains in a normal light setting as all cameras focus in on the entrance way. Falcoon - Hello folks, welcome to Monday Addiction.. Dunn - No "Ahooo"? Falcoon - I'm intrigued to see who this is. Kissens - Must be someone of importance if they are starting the show. Falcoon - Esspecially this being the first show after Clash of Champions. From behind the curtain, the OWF World Heavyweight Champion Jesse Williams walks out with the title hung over his right shoulder. He steps forward onto the stage as his new Manager, and now ex-Manager of Specter, Apollo walks out applauding his new signee. The two men are met with an intense level of boos from the Sold Out Butte Civic Center as they slowly walk down the ramp. Dunn - I can't believe how fast these fans turned. Kissens - Jesse lost their respect in his last three matches. Falcoon - Jackie is right. He faked the injury against Greg, bailed on Specter in the tag match, and then had Apollo turn on Specter to help him retain his title. Dunn - And what has Specter done? Wow, you're all hypocrits. Jesse slides under the bottom rope as he reaches the ring, while Apollo takes the longer route as he trots up the steel steps. He joins Jesse in the ring, walking straight past him and towards the side nearest to the announcers booth. Apollo calls to Missy to hand him a microphone, and she leaves her seat to walk towards the ring. She offers it to Apollo who gently takes it from her and returns to the middle of the ring. Falcoon - Well at least we get to hear what the hell is going on, once and for all. The music fades out, but the boos remain loud. Jesse smiles, keeping the title over his shoulder and glancing out into the crowd. Apollo lifts the microphone and begins speaking into the microphone. Apollo - Good evening, OWF. For those of you who don't know me, my name is Apollo. A few boos come Apollo's way, but he pays no mind and keeps up the speech. Apollo - And I am proud to represent your Outsider Wrestling Federation World Heavyweight Champion: Jesse Williams! The boos kick in full force for the OWF Champion, who does nothing to acknowledge them. Apollo - Since I'm a fresh face here, I feel obligated to tell you all a little about myself. I'm a Pisces. I enjoy the musical stylings of Harry Connick Jr. I hail from San Francisco. And I've been managing talent for eleven years. I have yet to, in my esteemed career, manage a talent on par with Jesse Williams. But I don't have to build your champion up. He's already done a fine job of that for the last nine months. Clapping twice, Apollo shrugs and continues. Apollo - While I'm sure a great many of you are wondering 'why did I help Jesse win,' I implore you to take a moment, struggle to think, and realize that had I helped his opponent in that match and had he managed to prove bookies across the nation wrong and score an upset, none of you would've batted an eye. When a man like Specter makes a career out of doing underhanded things, it's acceptable. Even celebrated. However, when a seasoned, savvy, and determined competitor makes a conscientious decision to beat his challenger at his own game and yank the proverbial rug out from under him, that becomes a crime. That makes a man a villain. In my opinion, that makes a man smart. The whims of the masses may differ. Apollo pauses again for a chorus of boos. Apollo - I don't decide who's popular and who isn't. Keep booing this man all you want. It's not going to make him lose. Keep cheering for your flavors-of-the-month. This isn't the 80's. The super-face doesn't come back from being beaten down by feeding off the energy of the crowd. If he's smart, he stays down. Be smart, Specter. Apollo extends the microphone towards Jesse, who takes hold of with his left hand. He keeps the OWF World Championship held over his right shoulder, being smattered with boos before he can even start to speak. Jesse Williams - I'm not here to list the reasons why I did what I did, because my intentions were clear from the start. I was going to make Specter change his game plan and play by my rules, and Apollo and I made sure that's the way it went down. I had him playing catch-up all night, and just when everything seemed to fall right into place for Specter- the tables were turned. He was thrown a curve ball, and it sent him back to the dugout as the ninth batter retired. I've gone through the whole fucking line up, and now I stand before you triumphant- and you boo me? The fans jeer Williams, trying to boo over his voice so he can't speak. Jesse Williams - Go ahead, but when you go home at night to your pathetic lives- I hope someone is there to criticize and belittle your every move. No matter if it's smart, stupid or just convenient. For months I listened to people who told me things that were wrong with me, in their eyes. Everyone had a problem, but I was able to swallow my pride and still keep a level of respect for my peers and those who pay my bills by buying tickets. Williams starts pacing left to right, keeping his eyes focused out into the crowd and never once looking into the camera. Jesse Williams - I sacrificed myself for far too long, and I got nothing in return. I made choices for my physical well-being, and then I no longer got the cheers of respect. Now I'm being selfish, apparently. The rabid crowd keeps on his case, but Jesse keeps ignoring them. Jesse Williams - But that's fine with me. I nearly decapitated Ray Lopes for sticking his nose where it didn't belong, and I don't feel bad. Apollo and I screwed Specter out of the World Title, sure. I fought him clean for nearly an hour straight and for one second I had assistance- so it's a fluke all of a sudden. I'm a big paper Champion, according to the entire world, and you know why you feel that way? The fans silence themselves for a moment. Jesse Williams - Because it's going to make you all feel better thinking that I'm not as good as I have proved myself to be. Pretending that beating me isn't that hard of a task, may make it seem like it's true- but it's not. You'll all line up, single-fucking-file, and wait your turn to be flushed down the pipes just like the rest. And you'll minimize it, and you'll try to play it off like it was a one time thing, but seriously we're at a point where you can all drop the bullshit. I'm still World Champion because I am still the best. Hate me for it, because I couldn't give a fuck less. Jesse drops the microphone as he and Apollo head for the ropes. Both again are booed heavily as they exit the ring. Falcoon - Our Franchise has finally given up on us. Dunn - It's about damn time. Kissens - Screw him, y'all. Falcoon - He's our Champion, Jackie. Kissens - Just by luck, though. Dunn - There is no luck with him, Jackie. Even when people get lucky against Jesse, they still lose. Kissens - Or he screws them! Dunn - Yeah. Either, or. Missy Janson is seen standing up from her seat, without a microphone to take with her since Jesse left it in the ring. The camera pans to the right to follow Missy as she heads for the steel ring steps, and quickly ascends them. Falcoon - Putting that all behind us now, we have a great card tonight. Kissens - And it's finally going to get started. Missy walks onto the ring apron and parts the middle and top ropes. She enters the ring and heads directly for the center of it -- where the microphone lays upon the canvas. She crouches down and grabs it with her right hand and slowly stands herself back up to her feet. She turns to the live cameras and brings the microphone up to her lips. Missy Janson - Hello Butte, Montana and WELCOME TO MONDAY ADDICTION! The crowd explodes into a mixture of cheers and applause. Missy Janson - It is time for the first match of the evening, which is scheduled for a one fall with a thirty minute time limit. Missy pauses for a moment, then continues. Missy Janson - Coming to the ring first, from Green Bay, Wisconsin... Adrian Jackson! "Trooper" by Iron Maiden hits the PA system while sparkler fireworks raise at the front of the ramp, and Adrian walks quickly through them, then starts pacing towards the ring, in sync with the fireworks making their way down the sides of the ramp. He jumps onto the edge of the ring, and climbs onto the turnbuckle, posing both arms diagonally into the air, then dropping into the ring. Dunn - Adrian looked pretty impressive in his debut at Clash of Champions. Kissens - Quite the stage for him to debut on. Falcoon - Now he's going to test a newly established force in the OWF. Missy brings the microphone back up to her lips as his music fades out. Missy Janson - And his opponent, from Brooklyn, New York... Tommy "The Ox" Morella! Theme to the Godfather begins to play. Tommy comes walking slowly from the back. Cursing and fighting with the crowd all the way down. Once in the ring walks up to the nearest ropes and then flips the crowd off and backs away to the corner waiting for match to start. Dunn - Morella was a newbie back in December, now he's going to show Jackson the ropes. Missy exits the ring and the referee calls for the bell. (Ding, Ding, Ding...) The two men charge at each other and immediately wail away with lefts and rights, trying to gain an advantage over the other. Neither Tommy Morella or Adrian Jackson seem phased by the back and forth impacts across their faces. Morella lays a stiff forearm that cracks Adrian across the left side of his jaw and drops him down to a knee. He tries to stagger back to his feet, but only gets clubbed across his shoulders with a downward thrusting forearm from Morella. Jackson remains on his knees, allowing a second forearm to be slammed across his shoulder blades -- yet he keeps himself from falling flat to the mat. Tommy Morella grows frustrated and grabs Adrian by his hair, tugging him up to his feet. Once there, Adrian Jackson smacks both of the arms of Morella away from him and free's himself from their grip. Jackson lays his elbow right into the left temple of Tommy, staggering him against the ropes. Adrian runs at him, but Morella grabs a hold of the top rope and uses it to thrust his right foot upwards. He catches Adrian with the sole of his boot flush to his face, dropping him flat to his back. Morella pushes himself off of the ropes and steps over Adrian, heading towards the middle of the ring. Falcoon - Adrian has to expect that from a veteran like Morella. Kissens - Hardly a veteran if I don't remember him. Dunn - She's right, y'all. Kissens - YOU SAID Y'ALL. Dunn - ... No. You did. Jackson holds his face while grasping a hold of the middle of the rope, dragging himself up slowly with Morella watching his progress from the middle of the ring. Adrian is able to hoist himself up to his feet with help from the ropes, but his back is turned to Morella -- who rushes up behind him and grabs him in a reverse waist lock. Allowing no time for Adrian to reverse it, Morella quickly tosses Jackson over his head -- sending him crashing upon his back with a release German Suplex. The ring shakes from the impact, with Tommy quickly rolling himself off of his back and up to his feet. Adrian remains on his back, holding the back of his head in a considerable amount of pain. Tommy approaches Adrian and lays across him, with the referee kneeling down and making the count. 1...2... kickout by Adrian. Kissens - I don't know if Adrian could have expected this right out of the gate. Falcoon - He should have. The OWF is stacked with talent from top to bottom. Morella quickly grabs Jackson's right arm and twists it at his shoulder, keeping it fully extended with a grasp of Adrian's wrist. With the applied pressure, Morella is able to walk Adrian anywhere he wants in the ring -- and he starts by forcing him around into a circle, twisting his arm further anytime he strayed from the path that Tommy is setting. They round the ring a full time, when Jackson breaks off and now drags Morella behind him. Adrian Jackson walks up the turnbuckle and backflips into the ring, releasing the tension on his arm as he now stands right before Tommy Morella. Tommy rears his right arm back, looking as if he will thrust it forward, when Adrian steps forward and drives the heel of his boot directly into the jaw of Morella with a Superkick. Morella's arms fall limp as he drops to his knees, and Adrian Jackson rushes towards him. He immediately hooks his left arm around the neck of Tommy Morella, holding him in a front face lock for a moment before tossing Tommy's left arm over his head. Seemingly with ease Adrian hoists Morella straight up into the air -- holding him in the vertical suplex position for a flash of a second. Dunn - He's got The Ox up! Once reaching the highest point of the suplex, Jackson lays himself out to his back and drives Tommy's head straight into the mat with a Suplex DDT. Falcoon - What a devastating move! Kissens - It took so much out of him that he can't follow up with a cover! Adrian Jackson and Tommy Morella lay side by side on their backs, with the crowd applauding them both. Jackson is the first to start moving, rolling onto his left elbow and hip -- towards Morella. Tommy also flips himself over onto his side, facing Adrian. The two men struggle to get back to their feet after the events of the highly impactful match so far. Once both on their knees, Adrian strikes Morella with a closed right fist that takes him back a bit -- but Tommy fights right back with a right jab of his own, connecting with the bridge of Adrian Jackson's nose. Morella pulls his right knee up toward his chest, attempting to get up but he gets caught with a left elbow from Jackson. He now tucks his left knee up towards his chest and starts pushing himself up, when Tommy thrusts his head forward and drives his forehead into the sternum of Adrian. Both men remain kneeling on one knee, trying to beat the other down long enough to return to their feet. Dunn - You wouldn't think this was an opening match with the way these two came out here so far. Morella starts pushing himself up, but Adrian reaches both hands up and grasps Tommy around the back of his head. He uses his grip to pick himself up as well, and then tucks his head under the chin of Morella. Jackson looks for a jawbreaker, but Morella stands tall and allows Adrian to fall to his knees. Once he is there, Tommy swings his right knee forward and catches Adrian flush across his nose -- but even with the impact, Adrian grabs a hold of Tommy behind his knee. Falcoon - That had to break something. Kissens - I don't understand how he isn't unconscious. Morella bends down, trying to free himself, but Adrian Jackson hooks him around his head and rolls him over with a small package. As he pins both of his shoulders to the mat, the referee slides in to make the count. Dunn - He's got him pinned! 1... 2... 3! Missy Janson - The winner of this match... Adrian Jackson! Kissens - Another impressive outing. Dunn - If he can keep this up, he'll be bound for stardom. Adrian Jackson has his arm raised before he ducks out of the ring and heads towards the ramp. Falcoon - Lets not forget Morella gave him one hell of a fight. He barely edged him out. Dunn - New Blood needs a strong showing from Rockstar so they can come out of this with something to show for it. Kissens - At least something more than respect. Tommy Morella rolls out of the and storms over towards the time keepers table. He grabs the microphone from Missy Janson and jumps back into the ring -- proceeding towards the middle. Tommy Morella - I have one thing to say. I am sure you have all heard of my problems with Frankie. Crowd boo's at the mention of his name. Tommy Morella - I didnt come here for you support so shut up and let me finish. Again crowd boos. Tommy Morella - Frankie I know you are watching and this comes to and end now next week you want an answer you want to give me a time line to go by. Then I will be in Detroit next week be there and I will have your answer you son of a bitch. Tommy throws mic down and walks ot of ring and out of arena. Falcoon - I have no idea what that was about. Dunn - Me neither, but he seemed pretty ticked off. We cut backstage at Addiction, where the Exit Door of the arena opens showing Spaz walking into the arena. Garrett runs up to the man that has remained silent for almost eight months. Garrett Greene - Spaz? Your back when in the hell did that happen? Spaz remains silent and just looks back at him smiling. Spaz lights a smoke and grabs the mic pushing Garrett to the floor. Spaz - For eight long months I have sat at home and watched as my life passed me by. Eight months of physical rehabilitation on my shoulder after I was ambushed by Trent Steel. My life ended that night as I witnessed the only good thing to happen in my life leave me and that happened just 5 short months after my injury... So who do I blame for my problems in my life? Easy question to answer and not at all surprising when you take a fucking cheap shotest like Trent Steel annd put him near me. Spaz takes the last remaining puffs of his cigarette and then flicks the but in Garrett's direction, who is now standing glaring at The Misfit. Spaz - So why did I come back? Was it bitch and moan about all the shit that has happened to me in the past little while or is it the fact that the distaste that I have for the man who put me on the shelf. To tell all of you right now that as much as I would like to say that the first reason seems more likely when you take the time to think that my entire career has been based on bitching. But the actuality of it all shows that the biggest reason why I chose to make my return is to take my revenge out on everyone. It's time to come back and have all the idiots in the crowd see the man that I have become. Spaz starts to walk away and slams the mic in the chest of Garrett as he passes by. Falcoon - Spaz is back! Kissens - It's been a long time. Dunn - I thought he was dead. Kissens - Nope. He's alive. Falcoon - And he's back in the OWF! From the shot of Garrett, we cut to another point backstage where we see Drake Munday in his locker room. JC walks into the picture, staring him down. Drake Munday - What do you want? JC - I just came here to say good luck. I really hope you take it to Porta Prince out there. Drake Munday - You sure you're not here to avenge what I did to Specter? JC - If I wanted to target you Drake, you'd be out of here. Drake Munday - I'm a lot better than when we last fought. JC - You're also still a kid. You're in need of training and that's why you never got to rename this belt. So let me ask you something, why didn't you try to turn on me when you did so with Specter? Drake Munday - Who said I'm not waiting for the right moment to strike, Joe? JC - Be that as it may, you haven't done it. Now it comes as a question of where do you and I stand? Drake Munday - It depends on how stupid you are. But with things as they are. I could do with one more ally. JC - What you could use is some focus, and someone to guide you. I'm not as gullible as Specter, so don't think you can string me along until the moment's right. Drake Munday - If you want to resume training, that's fine with me. JC - Then it's a deal. Just know Drake, if you ever decide to stab me in the back, you really will be gone from OWF. JC turns around and leaves as quickly as he came in, with Drake looking on. Falcoon - Munday and JC are working together again. Kissens - This doesn't spell many good things for the OWF. Dunn - Munday will only get better under the wing of JC. Falcoon - Hopefully Munday learns enough from JC to match what he took from Specter. Kissens - Should be interesting to follow, y'all. Falcoon - For sure. Folks, we have to head to a commercial real quick. We'll be right back!
FEATURING KING OF THE MOUNTAIN MATCH
We cut to backstage as we see the screen go black and white. We pan up to see Trent Steel as the fans start to cheer. He doesn't even look at the camera as he starts to speak. Trent Steel - Tonight a partner is decided. One, I get paired up with a traitor. I get to exact my revenge in every single tag match I have paired up with this asshole to defend MY tag team titles. The fate of The Lost Soul is sealed but how I go about it is still up in the air. You better take a dive old enemy. He lights up a marboro. Trent Steel - Two I could get El Presidente of the Island of Clueless. The King of the "Gimmick". I could be paired up with Vernon. Would that make us El Rouges? I mean I could just leave him as stranded as TLS would be. Or...I could just break him in half along with whomever I decide to drop these two. Maybe Rockstar and Ox. Would that humilate you Vern? He then turns to the screen. Trent Steel - Three. Joe Cool. This seems to most tantalizing out of the whole bunch because let's face it he's the only one I can stand for more than ten seconds. Then again how can you trust a man like Joe Cool? These three options are great but you know what. Trent smiles. Not that I am happy smile. The "I'm going to kill you smile". Trent Steel - Option Four. I go down to that match beat up all three. Then pick a body. Then all I have to do is wait for a real partner to take the belt from the guy whose going to be paralyzed from the waist down that I chose. Either way. One. Two. Three. Four. I win. Falcoon - Steel had some very harsh words. Kissens - I'll bet y'all anything he shows up tonight. Dunn - Yeah, I won't take that bet. Falcoon - It's almost a lock that Steel will stick his nose in the Triple Threat tonight. From the shot of Trent Steel smoking his cigarette, we fade into a white room which has the Sin City Spotlight Wheel of Stipulations inside of it. On either side of it is Vernon Somoza and Porta Prince, with Rockstar nowhere in sight. OWF Official Andrew Caps stands nearby, listening in to their conversation. Vernon Somoza - You excited buddy, tonight is number two! Porta Prince - You know I am... as long as it doesn't include an S&M Match. Vernon Somoza - Good call. Porta Prince - And you winning back our half of the Tag Titles is going to be great. Vernon Somoza - Especially when I line Steel up against you for his Blood Title. Porta Prince - No doubt. Porta pauses and looks to the wheel. Porta Prince - Lets get this over with. He grabs a hold of it and spins it downward with all of his might. It rotates three full times before starting to slow. It comes to a stop as Somoza and Prince lean in, while the camera zooms in, to identify the stipulation. Vernon Somoza - Heterophobia Match? Porta Prince - What the crap is that. Referee Andrew Caps - It's a Normal Match, where all straight competitors can lose the match by pinfall, submission, disqualification or count-out -- with any titles changing hands as a result of those four outcomes. All homosexual competitors can't be disqualified or counted out. Porta Prince - But, I'm the only straight guy. And I'm the Champion, too! Referee Andrew Caps - Looks like you're playing it straight tonight. Porta Prince - I PLAY IT STRAIGHT EVERY NIGHT! Referee Andrew Caps - I meant wrestle a clean match. Somoza and Prince stare at each other in silence. The OWF Official heads for the door, preparing to make his way down to the ring for the match. Before he exits, he stops and looks over his shoulder. Referee Andrew Caps - Or you two could get together for the night. He exits, with both members of El Plaga looking pissed off. Porta Prince - You know what I'm thinking? Vernon Somoza - Yeah, but I'm the dude in the relationship if we're pretending. Porta Prince - NO! I'm thinking that referee won't be calling my match tonight. Somoza smiles. Vernon Somoza - Good, because I didn't feel like portraying the lifestyle of Prez CJ for the night. The feed cuts away from the two men as we head back to the Arena, with a shot of the ring the direct focus. Falcoon - Porta has been riddled with matches that don't suit him very well. Dunn - He needs to learn how to weigh that thing down. Kissens - A true champion can overcome anything, y'all. Dunn - Not when he's buried because he doesn't suck dick. Falcoon - James. Come on. Dunn - What?! It's true! Kissens - Do you know from experience? Falcoon - Oh snap! Dunn - ... No. You do! Kissens - Riiiiight. The feed switches to a shot of Missy Janson, standing from the time keepers table next to the ring announcers table on the outside. She pulls a microphone off of the face of the table and steps towards the nearest set of ring steps. Falcoon - We're going to find out right now how good of a champion Porta is. Dunn - He was a great Tag Champion, so he's dying to establish himself with his first Singles Title reign. Missy skips up the steel ring steps and onto the ring apron, stepping through the ropes to enter the ring. She heads for the center and turns herself to face the set of live cameras. Kissens - A win here will certainly be a step in the right direction towards validation, y'all. Missy lifts the microphone up to her lips and begins her introductions. Missy Janson - The next matchup is scheduled for a one-fall with a sixty minute time limit -- and it is for the OWF Sin City Spotlight Championship! The fans roar in excitement, quickly quieting themselves down so Missy can proceed. Missy Janson - It is a Heterophobia Match, where any homosexual competitor, Rockstar in this case, can be victorious by pinfall, submission, disqualification or count-out -- yet cannot lose the match to a heterosexual opponent, being Porta Prince, via disqualification, or count-out. Porta Prince can lose his title by getting disqualified or being counted out -- along with the normal pinfalls and submissions. Missy pauses for a few seconds, trying to catch her breath before heading off into introducing the competitors. Missy Janson - Coming to the ring first, from San Antonio, Texas... Rockstar! "Rockstar" hits the Pa, Rockstar doesn't appear, a murmour goes through the crowd, then the build up to the chorus starts and suddenly. PA System - And we all just wanna be a big rockstar! Rockstar appears with a bunch of cash, and hands it over to people in the crowd. He then climbs into the ring, and starts warming up for his match. Dunn - Yet again, another superstar who can establish himself with a victory. Falcoon - Beating Porta is no easy task. Kissens - Which is why a victory for Rockstar is crucial. Missy pauses to catch her breath, and the fans quiet down to hear out the rest of her announcements. Missy Janson - And his opponent, from Haiti... He is the current OWF Sin City Spotlight Champion... Porta Prince! Red and blue pyro fall over the stage with "Welcome To Jamrock" playing. PA System - Out In The Streets. THEY CALL IT MURDAAAA! Pyro stops and Porta Prince appears as if he was behind it the whole time. Over his right shoulder, his OWF Sin City Spotlight Title is drapped there and held into position by his right hand. Smoke flies out of his nose as he goes towards the ring with nothing but a spotlight on him. As he rolls into the ring, he gets up drapes himself over the ropes with a hand raise as red & blue pyro goes off behind him. Dunn - Two more defenses and Porta gets to rename the belt. Kissens - And what a dark day that will be for the OWF. Dunn - Yeah, Prez CJ is Gay Championship won't go over too well. Falcoon - Nope. The referee takes the SCS Title from Porta Prince and holds it into the air. He then hands it off to Missy who steps towards the ropes nearest to her seat on the outside. She exits and hops off the apron down to the concrete floor. Kissens - But what about if Rockstar wins? He could name the belt the Rockstar is Gay Championship, y'all. Falcoon - Yeah, but at least the belt would be rooted in honesty. Once back at her seat, the referee calls for the bell. (Ding, Ding, Ding...) The match starts off with Rockstar ducking out of the ring and walking towards the recently seated Missy Janson. He pushes her from her chair and closes it up, returning to the ring. Porta shuffles his feet as he steps back and watches Rockstar pull himself back to his feet, and approach him. Rockstar weilds the chair backwards over his head, and Prince is able to bring the toe of his boot into his exposed sternum. Rockstar is forced to drop the chair as he brings both arms around his chest in pain, with Porta winding up and nailing Rockstar with a right forearm to the left side of his face and taking him down to the mat. Prince stays on the offensive, immediately reaching down and hooking Rockstar around his left arm -- dragging him back up to his knees. He tucks Rockstars head between his legs before reaching down and lifting the bentover Rockstar up into the air. He swings both of the challengers legs up over his shoulders, but Rockstar is able to keep the momentum going and slides his legs out of the grip of Porta Prince. Falcoon - Rockstar almost had this match taken from him there. Rockstar lands on his feet in front of Porta and grabs the steel chair off of the mat. He smacks it across the small of Porta's back, sending him down to one knee. Rockstar chooses to discard the chair and brings his right knee up into the face of Prince, bending him backwards and laying him out. Rockstar lays across the chest of Porta, with the referee sliding into place and making the count. 1... Porta thrusts his shoulder up, not even close to staying down. Dunn - Rockstar needs to take advantage of these rules. Kissens - It's his best chance, y'all. Rockstar pulls himself up to his knees and hooks both of his hands around the head of Porta, holding him in a side headlock while laying across his chest. Prince keeps his right arm straight up in the air so that his shoulder remains off the mat, while his left arm is stuck under the weight of Rockstar's legs. Porta Prince starts to peel the right side of his body off of the mat as he rolls onto his left hip. His strength advantage allows him to pick himself off the mat, while Rockstar maintains a firm hold on the headlock. Prince plants his left knee on the mat while lifting his right knee up towards his chest, while placing the sole of his boot right next to his knee. He presses upwards although remaining in the headlock applied by Rockstar, standing up and thrusting his left elbow back into the stomach of Rockstar. This releases the headlock and Porta chooses to charge at the ropes that Rockstar is facing while dazed. Falcoon - Rockstar better watch ou-- The second Porta turns his back to Rockstar, he stands up tall and sprints off right behind the Champion. As Porta turns to bounce off the ropes, Rockstar leaps into the air and drives both of his feet into Porta's face -- sending him tumbling over the top rope and to the concrete floor. The fans cheer as the referee steps in to start the count. 1... 2... Falcoon - Porta better get his ass in gear or else he's going to lose this belt! Porta pulls himself up from all fours and grabs a hold of the ring apron, hoisting himself back up to his feet. 3... 4... As soon as he stands he sees Rockstar slide at him under the bottom rope, with both of his legs extended towards him. 5... 6... Prince side steps Rockstar and grabs a hold of him by the back of his head, forcing him to land on his feet on the concrete floor. 7... 8... Porta whips Rockstar directly into a shortarm clothesline, and quickly rolls himself back into the ring. The referee ends his count as Rockstar cannot be counted out. Falcoon - Porta should look to stay away from the outside of the ring. Dunn - Only bad things can happen for him out there. Porta Prince picks himself up to his feet and quickly regains his senses. Rockstar takes his time getting up on the outside, staring down Porta who is egging him on to get back into the ring. The referee forces Prince backwards and Rockstar takes this opportunity to slide back into the ring. He grabs a hold of the steel chair still laying in the ring and rears it back, heading straight for Porta. The referee steps out of the way as Rockstar swings, and misses when Porta ducks to the right of the chair. When Rockstar turns around, he is scooped up onto the shoulder of Porta Prince -- who knocks the chair from his grasp once more. Porta holds Rockstar in the front power slam position, when he starts to violently kick his legs. Kissens - Prince is trying for the Third World Takedown, but Rockstar is fighting it. Eventually Rockstar is able to slide down the back of Porta, and immediately leaps into the air to dropkick Porta in the back of the head. He staggers across the ring towards one of the corners, taking large steps while trying to keep himself on his feet. Rockstar rolls back up to his feet, awaiting Prince to turn himself around. He keeps his distance as Porta shuffles to his right and swings his body around. Rockstar immediately takes off towards Porta, who catches a glimpse of the challenger as he runs at him. Prince bends over and digs his shoulder into the stomach of Rockstar the second he reaches him, and uses his own momentum to flip him over his back. Rockstar flies through the air and lands back-first across the top turnbuckle -- before flopping down onto his stomach in the ring. Dunn - That's legal! Falcoon - Porta is finding ways to break down Rockstar to compensate for the chair in the ring. Kissens - Not to mention the heterophobic rules. Prince receives a ton of boos but he ignores the fans and turns himself back to Rockstar. He lays clutching his back on the ring canvas until Porta Prince begins dragging his weakened opponent back up to his feet. He faces Rockstar away from him and hooks his head under the limp right arm of Rockstar -- wrapping his left arm around his back. He lifts Rockstar off of the mat and drops him onto the back of his head with a Backdrop Suplex. Porta pins Rockstar just seconds after the impact, with the referee dropping to his knees for the count. 1... 2... kickout by Rockstar! Kissens - With or without the advantage, you can't deny Rockstar's will. Dunn - He wants this badly. Falcoon - Problem is, Porta wants it just as badly if not more. Dunn - And Porta has the attributes to impose his will over Rockstar's. Porta lifts himself up to his knees, glaring at the referee who motions that it was only a two count. He then turns to attention back to Rockstar, and once again begins dragging him back to his feet as he stands up as well. Once both men are standing, Porta swings his left elbow forward but Rockstar gets his right forearm up in time to block it. He fires back with a left hook that catches Porta by surprise and allows Rockstar a chance to chain a few strikes together. He finds his mark with a headbutt bluntly across the forehead of Porta. Both men drop to their knees in a daze, each holding their heads with Rockstar being able to shake the cobwebs free first. He stands himself up and whips a shin kick flush across the chest of Porta, who takes the blow in stride as he pushes himself up to his feet. Rockstar lays a second shin kick, this one to his right thigh which staggers Porta slightly -- but he remains on his feet. In a last ditch effort, Rockstar leaps into the air and drives both of his feet into the face of Porta Prince -- finally taking the big man down with a dropkick. Rockstar bounces to his feet and soaks up the approval of the crowd, before pointing down to the steel chair once more. The fans get louder, and he heads off and picks it up off of the mat. Dunn - Yes, keep on pummeling him! Kissens - We could see an upset here, y'all. Falcoon - And what a wrench that would be in El Plaga's plans. Rockstar turns back and heads to Porta who has just picked himself up to his knees with help from the ropes. He weilds the chair back and smashes it across the top of Porta's head -- leading him up against the ropes as he sits on the mat. The dented steel chair is discarded by Rockstar, who grabs the boot of Porta and drags him away from the ropes. This takes a lot more time than Rockstar anticipates as he finally yanks him away from the ropes. Rockstar hooks Porta's right leg and lays over his chest -- with the referee dropping to the mat to make the count. 1... 2... Porta gets his right shoulder up yet again. Falcoon - What the hell does he have to do to win? Kissens - He's going to have to figure it out if he wants that belt. A frustrated Rockstar begins picking himself up off of the mat, as Porta rolls over onto his right side and away from his opponent. The challenger gets to his feet first and Rockstar slowly approaches Porta, grabbing him around his head and aiding him to his feet. He immediately grabs Porta around the neck with his right arm, and hooks him in a front face lock. He bends Porta forward and tosses his dangling right arm over Rockstar's head, setting him up for a Suplex. The first attempt in lifting him fails because of the weight difference. In response, Rockstar holds the suplex position and brings a swift knee up into the stomach of Porta. He again tries to lift Porta up for a suplex. Falcoon - I just don't think it's gonna happen, Rockstar. Porta blocks the suplex attempt by swinging Rockstar up with a scoop slam, and holding him over his right shoulder. He quickly sits out and drives Rockstar's head down between his legs. Rockstar falls limp to the mat as Porta rolls on top of him. Dunn - Third World Takedown! The referee slides into place and makes the count. 1... 2... 3! Kissens - He could count to ten and it would still be over, y'all. Missy Janson - The winner of this match, and STILL OWF Sin City Spotlight Champion... Porta Prince!
Dunn - He overcame the odds and won for the second show in a row. Falcoon - And now our hope rests on his next challenger. Somoza enters the ring as the referee hands Porta the Sin City Spotlight Championship. Somoza motions towards Missy Janson to hand him a microphone as Porta is soaking in all the boos from the sold-out crowd. Somoza gets the microphone, but instead of him speaking first, he hands the mic to Porta, who is ordering the ref to stay in the ring. Porta pauses for a moment to let the boos ring out around the arena before speaking. Porta Prince - That's 2 down, 1 to go!!! The crowd erupts with a chorus of jeers and chants of "Porta Sucks!". Porta Prince - I'm glad to know that's how you feel, now I want all of you idiots to pay attention. Turn on the TiVo and record THE Haitian Wrestling Masterpiece and mark these words. Once I win for the third time in a row, this Network Title will never be the same again!! Hey ref, put this belt where it belongs!!! Now listen up surgeons......El General will like to share a word with you bums!!! The boos from the crowd hit a fever pitch as Porta hands Somoza the mic. The ref wraps the SCS Title around the waist of Porta and the boos quickly sharpen as direct snaps at Somoza begin to ring around the arena. Chants of "Your just +1!" followed by a rhythmic clap begin as Somoza is about to begin. Vernon Somoza - President CJ!!! You thought you had it easy when you shoved me into that PDA match! Think again Presidente!! Now, I did your little song and dance, I put on a spectacle for all these surgeons and what do these OWF scum do?? They boo Somoza!!! Well Somoza's not pleased Mr. President........You want us officially back into the OWF......you've got 1 week to come up with something better!! Falcoon - Where does he get the nerve to question CJ's authority. Kissens - CJ won't be happy to hear Vernon talk to him like that. Dunn - Of course it's not to his face. Falcoon - So? Dunn - So! Not as hateful! Somoza drops the mic and begins to head up the ramp. Before Porta leaves, he picks up the microphone so he can do their patent catchphrase. Porta Prince - And don't you worry about those tag titles surgeons....We'll be two-time in no-time!!! Lopes!!!! Watch your back, I'm coming for you boy!!! And remember Surgeons, FUn Can Kill Y-- The OWF Tron lights up with Ray Lopes now on the screen. It looks like he’s recording himself on camcorder by the way the shot looks. Ray Lopes – What’s up Butt, Montana? Ray grins as you hear some of the fans yell out and correct him, “It’s Butte, not Butt!” Ray Lopes – Sorry I couldn’t be in attendance tonight, I know you’re already half a sleep after watching Porta and Rockstar. Porta stands in the ring glaring at the big screen. Ray Lopes – Hey Porta, I see you standing there. Ray takes one hand off the camera and points at it as if he were pointing at Porta in the ring. Ray Lopes – You know I got you and that title you hold in my sights right now and usually when I’ve got somebody in my sights I leave no stone unturned in trying to figure out what they’re about, so I’ve been doing my research on you Porta. I’m in your old stomping grounds of Miami right now and you know I’m Cuban, right? So I got plenty of family and connects of my own here and guess what some of those connects hooked me up with? Ray smiles and then points the camera in front of him revealing a familiar residence you may or may not have seen in a Porta Prince promo or two. Ray Lopes – Momma Porta’s house! Porta yanks the ropes in the ring violently as he’s now furious of what’s being shown on the screen even though the address on the house has been blurred out, it still pisses him off to see Ray at his mommas. Ray Lopes – Calm down Porta, I’m not going to do nothing to your moms, besides she’s not home right now anyways, I already checked. Rays snickers as he turns the camera back on himself. Ray Lopes – Now I was going to shoot a little impromptu interview with Momma Porta, but since she’s not home, I’ve got to do something else. Ray gives the camera a look as if he’s deep in thought. Ray Lopes – Luckily for me Publix is right around the corner from here, so I am able to leave Momma Porta a gift. Ray walks over to his rental and opens up the trunk revealing a 24 pack of toilet paper. The fans in the Butte Civic Center all start to cheer loudly, but Porta just stands there fuming. Ray sets the camera down on the top of the car so that it’s facing towards Momma Porta’s while he TP’s her house, but not before having this one last thing to say. Ray Lopes – Don’t worry Porta, I’ll make sure not to wet it. Ray grabs the pack of toilet paper and starts TPing the house while the camera and most importantly Porta in the ring catches it all. The feed on the OWF Tron cuts out as Porta takes his title and heads out of the ring. He rushes up the ramp as the fans all cheer in the arena. The cameras cut back to the announcers booth. Dunn - Ray Lopes has toilet papered Porta's palace! Falcoon - Porta is not going to be a very happy man, I can tell you that. Kissens - Ray is looking to may firm enemies with him. Dunn - It's only a matter of time before Porta catches up with him. Falcoon - But it won't be tonight. Kissens - Nope. Ray's across the country now! From the shot of the announcers the feed cuts backstage, where CokeKid is seen standing with a member of the OWF Security Team. CokeKid - Yeeeah dude, I seen him. He was big.. and stuff. He had this puffy winter jacket on too, bro -- I remember cause I was like, "Hey duuuude that's a cool Jacket". Security Officer - Did he say anything back? CokeKid - Nah duuude, he just left. The camera pans to the right to see Sythe, resident Jobber, laying in a puddle of his own blood. Upon the wall behind him, written in his crimson blood, the question "Miss Me?" is strewn across the concrete. Dunn - Sythe? Seriously? Kissens - Why would anyone attack him? The feed cuts back to the announcers booth, with all three of them looking into the monitors with a disturbed look upon their faces. Falcoon - Look on the brightside, CokeKid is still alive. Dunn - But who would take out Sythe? Kissens - Drug deal gone wrong maybe? Falcoon - But what would "Miss me" have to do with it? Dunn - I'm puzzled as fuck. From next to the announcers table, Missy Janson stands from from her seat at the time keepers table -- and pulls a microphone off of it with her right hand before heading off towards the ring. Falcoon - Well, it's another unanswered question that won't be solved tonight. Kissens - He's right, y'all. All we got left is our Main Event.. Falcoon - That should help us take our mind off of things. She heads up the steel ring steps and makes her way onto the ring apron -- quickly entering the ring through the top and middle ropes. She heads for the center of the squared circle and turns herself towards the live set of cameras. Dunn - It should be a great match. Falcoon - No doubt about that. She lifts her right hand up to her mouth and begins to speak into it to begin her introductions for the Main Event. Missy Janson - It is time for the Main Event of the Evening! The sold out Butte Civic Center stands up to their feet and applauds, with their attention centered on the ring. Missy Janson - It is a Triple Threat Match scheduled for a one-fall, with a sixty minute time limit -- and it is for the vacant OWF Tears Tag Team Championship! Missy pauses to catch her breath, and immediately continues after her brief hesitation. Missy Janson - Coming to the ring first, from Parts Unknown... The Lost Soul! TLS comes out through the entrance way to no music as the lights in the arena begin flickering as he shows up on the entrance ramp. He walks down towards the ring, keeping his eyes set on the ring as The Lost Soul rounds the ring and slides under the bottom rope and into the ring. He pushes himself up and prepares himself for the match. Falcoon - He turned on Steel, and now he's got another shot at the gold. Kissens - If he would have stuck around, he wouldn't have to go through this. Dunn - But he got selfish as so many others do. Missy lifts the microphone back up to her lips once TLS has stepped back into his corner. Missy Janson - Out to the ring next... From Manugua, Nicaragua... Vernon Somoza! PA System – Reggaeton Latino Bailen, yales The Lights turn Blue and White and they begin to flash with the bass of the Song. The Crowd begins to yell and Boo as Somoza walks out with Tan Fatigues on a Military Generals coat and a Military green hat on. He has on Sunglasses smoking a large Cigar and carries the Nicaraguan Flag on a pole and waves it towards the crowd. He walks towards the ring blowing smoke at fans and mocking them as the music blares. He steps into the ring and places the flag atop one of the corners and Salutes it. Then he stands atop the turnbuckles and waves it as the fans boo and he laughs mocking them. Dunn - Somoza has another chance at gold. Falcoon - One can only wonder how many more shots he's going to get. Vernon steps down and backs into the corner opposite from The Lost Soul. Missy stands between both men, still in the middle of the ring, and continues with her introductions. Missy Janson - And finally... From Jersey City, New Jersey... JC! Lights flash then dim, and "Wherein Lies Continue" by Slipknot fills the speakers. The lights all go out and only a spotlight shines on Joe, who comes to the ring without any friendly movements or acknowledgment of the fans, who are booing him. PA system - Thou shalt not Kill your fathers - destroy another life He climbs up to the turnbuckle, puts his hands in a clasp above his head and brings them down, still clasped, to chest-level. The ending's the same He climbs down, glares at the audience and warms up for his match. Kissens - This is JC's chance to win more OWF gold. Dunn - For a guy who doesn't work well in teams, if he wins he'll be mastering the Tag Title division. Missy heads out of the ring as JC's music dies down. The referee steps forward and calls for the bell to start the match. (Ding, Ding, Ding...) Right off of the bat, JC and Somoza pick up right where they left off at Clash of Champions. They meet in the center of the ring and start trading vicious strikes to the head. JC hits the first, which is a sharp right forearm but Somoza followed it up with a left hook that caught JC completely off guard. Now JC thrusts his right knee into the stomach of Somoza, doubling him over as The Lost Soul charges in from across the ring. He leaps at JC who catches him around his throat and sits down -- delivering a huge spinebuster on TLS. The fans gasp in awe as JC seems to be in firm control, when Somoza comes out of nowhere and connects with the base of JC's skull with a thrusting right elbow. JC drops to his right knee and Vernon grasps his hands together and nails JC across his exposed back with a double axe-handle smash. While JC is recovering on one knee, Somoza grabs him by his hair and slowly tugs him back to his feet. Somoza looks for a left jab, but JC is able to grab a hold of Vernon's arm. He yanks Somoza towards him, looking for a short arm clothesline but Vernon ducks around behind him. He grasps JC in a reverse waist lock, from which he tries to toss JC over his head. He is unable to lift the weight of JC at this time and ends up on the receiving end of the point of JC's right elbow after he swings it backwards. Vernon releases the hold and grasps his face, with JC looking to capitalize. Falcoon - This isn't going to be a wrestling match. It's just a fight. Dunn - And TLS is in no-man's land. JC turns around to face Somoza, but he is jumped on from behind by a recovered TLS. He locks JC in a choke hold, trying to squeeze the life out of him. JC doesn't have anywhere really to go, and he stumbles backwards away from Somoza who is just now coming to his senses. Vernon notices TLS on the back of JC, who is losing his strength, and Somoza sprints off towards both men. He lunges and wraps his arms around the thighs of JC, and spears him down on top of TLS -- crushing him under the weight of JC as he is slammed down on the mat. Kissens - What a maneuver to take down both of his opponents. Somoza hops up and holds both of his arms up, staring down at the two men who are now struggling to get back to their feet. Somoza reaches down and tosses JC to the side, setting his sights on The Lost Soul. He drags him up to his feet and whips him across the ring with all of his might. Upon releasing him from the irish whip, Somoza charges off right behind TLS so that as he turns and hits the ropes -- Vernon is right there to clothesline him up and over the top rope, sending TLS crashing to the floor. Somoza stares down at him for a moment, unaward that JC has pulled himself up and waits for Vernon across the ring. Somoza turns and narrowily avoids the right boot of JC which he kicks up toward the face of Vernon. He is able to swing behind JC and again lock him in a reverse waist lock, this time being able to lift JC off of the mat and toss him over his head. Falcoon - What a huge German Suplex! Dunn - Somoza finally weakened him enough to get a good lift. JC crashes to the mat after the release German Suplex, but is able to absorb most of the fall with his arms. This allows him to return to his feet almost a full second before Somoza, who is unaware of JC's presense. He sneaks up behind Somoza and cold-clocks him with a closed right hand to the base of his skull -- taking a measure of revenge before wrapping his arms around the waist of Vernon Somoza in a reverse waist lock of his own. Vernon is able to break the grasp of JC and spin around behind him -- where he takes two steps backwards to put some distance between himself and JC. Vernon then runs at JC and swings his right arm towards the back of his head, but JC somehow ducks at the perfect time. Somoza's force sends him rushing towards the set of ropes opposite him, where he turns and bounces off of them back-first. Vernon heads back towards JC who throws his right foot up and catches Somoza flush across the right side of his face -- sending him flat to his back with a huge big boot. Falcoon - There's that Big Boot that has been a horror for many. Kissens - Hopefully Somoza can pull through it. Dunn - It's not looking so promising. JC drops to his knees and lays across Somoza's chest, with the referee sliding in to make the count. 1... 2... Somoza throws his left shoulder up and breaks the count before three. From the outside, The Lost Soul slides himself back into the ring and lines up JC in his sights as he picks himself up off of Somoza. JC stands up, only to be taken right back down to his knees with a chop block from TLS. Once JC is down, The Lost Soul throws everything he can at him when it comes to kicks -- stomping, kicking and grinding his boot down upon various points of JC's body. Vernon slowly picks himself up to his knees, and TLS turns to him and gives him much of the same treatment. Vernon is taken back down to his back with a shin kick straight to the face, before The Lost Soul lays two hard stomps to his ribcage. Both Somoza and JC are down, with TLS standing tall -- pausing for a moment to catch his breath. Falcoon - For a guy who didn't seem too interested in tag team wrestling, TLS is now doing pretty well for himself. Dunn - He's taking too much time though. He needs to be on both of these guys constantly. Kissens - James is right. JC and Vernon Somoza are two of the best right now, and TLS can't afford a time-out. He turns his attention back to JC as he slowly picks him off of the mat and rolls him up to his knees. TLS hooks both of his hands under the arms of JC, who suddenly bounces up to his feet and grabs The Lost Soul around his torso. With ease he tosses TLS over his head with an overhead Belly to Belly Suplex. JC is able to lift himself back up to his feet, while Somoza is just now getting up to his knees. JC takes his time in approaching Vernon, who jumps up into a sprint and runs right into JC with a shoulder charge. Neither man budge an inch after impact, as JC entices Somoza to try again. Vernon turns and runs against the ropes, heading back to JC and laying his right shoulder into the chest of JC. Again he doesn't budge, but now JC heads off to the ropes. He turns and bounces off of them, back-first, and sprints back towards Vernon. He drives his shoulder flush across Somoza's chest, but Vernon doesn't budge either. Falcoon - They just want to prove who is stronger now. Dunn - It's all adrenaline and testosterone. Once it wears off, they'll be aching. Somoza provokes JC into a second attempt as he jumps towards the ropes. He bounces off of them and heads back to Somoza a second time, laying his shoulder into the chest of Somoza -- who again stands tall. The fans are all up on their feet watching the two men battle it out, as Somoza now takes his turn again. He turns and runs to the ropes, bouncing off back-first, and heads back towards JC. Before he reaches him, JC throws up his right boot towards the charging Somoza. Vernon is able to duck under the foot of JC, and ends up sprinting right towards The Lost Soul -- who is fully prepared for his arrival. Somoza runs into a knee directly to his gut, and TLS grabs Vernon around his neck with a front face lock. He gloats to the fans, as JC runs across the ring and levels the arrogant TLS with a big boot. Upon impact he releases Somoza who rolls out of the ring under the bottom rope to avoid being attacked by JC. Kissens - TLS just got destroyed. Falcoon - JC's foot should be counted as a foreign object. Dunn - It's not foreign though. He was born in New Jersey. JC keeps his focus on Somoza as he reaches down and grabs TLS by the back of his head. He starts tugging him up to his feet while still staring at Vernon -- which allows The Lost Soul to rake his eyes. JC steps backwards towards the middle of the ring, holding his face. Kissens - He kept his eye on Somoza and not TLS, and it may cost him. The Lost Soul charges at JC and extends his right arm, looking for a clothesline. JC is able to grab a hold of TLS's right arm and swing around behind him. JC locks TLS into an abdominal stretch out of his clothesline attempt, wrenching his gut with all of his might. Somoza remains on the outside, watching without much concern that The Lost Soul will give up. Once JC realizes that TLS won't submit, he swings his body up onto his shoulder from the abdominal stretch -- and drives The Lost Soul down to the mat with a front Powerslam. JC immediately hooks TLS's leg, and makes the cover with the referee sliding in to make the count. 1... 2... Vernon Somoza dives in and breaks up the count with an elbow drop across the back of JC's head. Dunn - Good timing by Somoza. Falcoon - A blink of an eye later and he would be heading up the ramp as a loser. Falling into a rage, Vernon Somoza begins kicking and stomping both JC and The Lost Soul -- alternating back and forth between the two men. He doesn't allow either of his opponents to return to their feet, and eventually forces both men flat to their backs. He drops to his knees and covers The Lost Soul -- with the referee sliding in and making the count. 1... 2... kickout by TLS. Right after the kickout, Somoza slides over to the prone body of JC and lays across his chest, hooking his leg. The referee remains on the mat and makes the count again. 1... 2... kickout by JC! Kissens - Somoza is getting desperate. Dunn - No, he's just trying to take advantage of every opportunity presented to him. Somoza stands himself up and backs away from both men, who are rolling up to their feet right next to one another. He takes a breather, watching both men with a look of disbelief across his face. JC is the first to get up to his knees, glancing across the ring at Somoza first. Then out of the corner of his eye he catches the progress made by The Lost Soul, who is now back up to his knees. Being closer to one another, they both keep their focus on one another and ignore Somoza who seems to be losing his second wind in the corner. They are too far to strike each other, but aggressively push themselves up to their feet so they can close that distance. TLS gets up first, with JC right behind him as both men step forward. TLS strikes first, as well, dazing JC with a right jab right to the mouth. He follows up with a boot to the stomach that bends JC over slightly, clutching his stomach. Another strike to the mouth, this time in the form of a forearm, drops JC to his right knee clutching both his face and stomach. The Lost Soul takes a second to catch his breath and he eyes up Vernon Somoza, who is still laying in wait across the ring. He ignores him and turns his attention back to JC, who remains on his right knee in front of TLS. The Lost Soul reaches both of his hands down and grabs JC by his hair and starts to slowly pick him up to his feet. Falcoon - TLS better remember no matter the damage he does to JC, he can't get a pin with Somoza right there. JC is able to pull himself free, and grabs a hold of The Lost Soul's arm. He tosses him in the direction of Somoza, who is ready as he destroys TLS with a clothesline. Vernon then steps forward and heads right for JC, who meets Vernon with a sharp right hand as he turns himself around. Somoza, although stunned, returns fire with a swinging left hand that catches JC upon his right cheek. The two men remain standing toe to toe, and continue to duke it out with JC kneeing Vernon in his stomach and following it up with a sharp european uppercut that drops Vernon to his right knee for only a moment. He bounces right up and brings his closed fist up to the chin of JC with a straight uppercut. JC seems out on his feet, but Somoza lays a devastating open handed chop that drops JC to his back. Dunn - Somoza has now set the pace he likes. Falcoon - Now he just has to maintain momentum. Kissens - Which hasn't been easy to do tonight. Somoza immediately turns and notices TLS pulling himself up with the help of the ropes. With all of his might he runs right at him, looking to knocking him over the top again -- but TLS bends down. He digs his shoulder into the stomach of Somoza and dumps him over the top rope, sending him crashing to the concrete floor. Falcoon - Somoza may have just crushed his chances! TLS stands looking out at Somoza when JC comes up from behind him and hoists The Lost Soul into a Torture Rack. He swings TLS around and sits out, delivering a back breaker upon the canvas. Dunn - Jersey Driver on TLS! JC immediately hooks TLS's leg as the referee drops down to the mat to make the count. 1... 2... 3! Kissens - JC wins! Missy Janson - The winner of this match and the NEEEW OWF Tears Tag Team Champion... JC! The referee grabs the OWF Tears Tag Team Title from Missy on the outside and hands it over to JC. He holds JC's arm up briefly, as he is booed before yanking his arm from the grasp of the referee. Falcoon - What a match... Kissens - And we have a new Tears Tag Team Champion! Dunn - It was between Somoza and JC the whole time. JC just got the last laugh. Falcoon - Uh Oh. Kissens - What, y'all? Dunn - It's The Blood Champion and he looks...amused. We cut to see Trent Steel at the top of the rampway laughing like a maniac. Kissens - That's not good. He pulls out a microphone and holds out his right hand. Trent Steel - Put 'er there...PARTNER AHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!! Falcoon - I don't think our new Tears champion is happy... He's got to team with Steel. Trent Steel and JC are shown standing in the ring together, with JC staring right at Trent. Dunn - We're out of time though. Kissens - Crud. Falcoon - Hopefully we get more about this next week. Dunn - I'm praying for it. Falcoon - Goodnight folks! Thank you for joining us. The feed fades out to the OWF logo, and then to black. |
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OWF Productions ™
