Post by Danny on Apr 3, 2021 4:07:35 GMT -6
As the logo is seen, things go live to the inside of the arena as pyrotechnics go off from the stage and the camera pans around to get a shot of the fans from all around the world gathered for the UWF's newest show, Rebellion! The camera pans over to the commentary team where Corey Graves, Mauro Ranallo, and Tom Phillips are standing by.
Mauro Ranallo: Hello and welcome UWF's newest show, Rebellion! I'm Mauro Ranallo and with me as always, former International Champion Corey Graves and Tom Phillips!
Tom Phillips: The final Revolution before Wrestlemania has passed but now comes time for the Rebellion! People still have a lot to say and are willing to risk their bodies just a week away from Wrestlemania.
Corey Graves: Tonight, you never know just who is going to come through those curtains and I for one can't wait!
Mauro Ranallo: Well I do know for a fact one of the matches here tonight and it's none other than-
The funky beat of Walk The Moon's "Headphones" plays and the crowd starts to boo as it means the arrival of the Forever Champion Sami Zayn. He has the title in his hands and dances with it on the stage. He ends up calming down a bit but still walks with some swagger down the ramp, swinging his belt around like he's got a big one.
Tony Chimel: From Montreal Quebec, Canada, weighing in at 212 pounds, The Dynamic Sami Zayn!!
Sami slides into the ring and continues to dance around with his belt much to the chagrin of the paying audience. He then takes a mic out from his jacket and starts to speak.
Sami Zayn: What's up people!? You didn't expect to see the start of a brand new show without the Forever Champion now did you? I'm obviously the most important figurehead in UWF history so of course we gotta open the show with me. Make sure we get some eyes on the product.
Now EC3 informed me that I have a very special match tonight. A match people have been dying to see. He wouldn't tell me my opponent and to be honest, I didn't want him to. I'm used to being surprisedwith last minute changes so the fact that I have to think on my toes has me excited. But to my potential opponent tonight, I'm sorry but this will be your last match in the UWF.
Sami is all smiles as he confidently takes off his jacket and waits for his opponent.
Mauro Ranallo: Wait a minute.
Tom Phillips: Could it be?
Sami looks to the stage and his eyes go wide as Becky Lynch comes out with the other World Tag Team Championship across her shoulder.
Tom Phillips: It's the Forever Champion Becky Lynch!
Corey Graves: How dare you Phillips!
Mauro Ranallo: Sami looks like he's seen a ghost!
Tony Chimel: Introducing his opponent, from Dublin Ireland, she is one half of the World Tag Team Champions, Becky Lynch!
Becky confidently walks down the ring while Sami is arguing with the ref about the match. She slides into the ring and raises her title up high while Sami argues with her. She puts the title off to the side and takes off her jacket as the ref calls for the bell.
VS 
DIG DING DING
Tom Phillips: Sami hasn't seen or heard from Becky Lynch since the closure of the tag team division.
Mauro Ranallo: According to what EC3 told Sami, she wanted him to fire Sami and give her their combined salaries. You can bet Sami feels betrayed by that.
Corey Graves: After he gave her a job in the first place. Now he's going to put her in her place!
Sami and Becky circle around each other. Sami has his defense lowered and he he's trying to talk to Becky but she ain't having it. She shoots for his legs and takes him down, mounting him before unleashing a barrage of fists! Sami tries to cover up but Becky is all over him. The ref even has a smile on his face and is slow to make the 5 count. Becky lets up and pulls Sami back up to his feet. He ends up shoving her away and yells "alright, that's it!" before running at her, fist cocked. She grabs a hold of his punch and pulls him down into the ground going for the Disarmer! Sami rolls forward to get free and continues to roll all the way outside of the ring.
Tom Phillips: Sami just barely got out of harm's way right there.
Mauro Ranallo: With such an important match lined up at Wrestlemania, Sami can't afford an injured arm.
Corey Graves: He won't have to worry about that. He knows all of Becky's tactics in and out. He probably knows the counter to her moves more than she does.
Sami is rolling his shoulder out with a scared look on his face, knowing just how much trouble he was almost in. He tells the ref to keep her away to allow him back into the ring. He does so and Sami slowly climbs back into the ring. They go to tie up and Becky right away takes him down, trying to put his shoulder to the mat. Sami rolls forward once more and when he's back on his feet, he kicks Becky in the gut. He talks some trash to her as he brings her in for a DDT. He ends up talking far too much and Becky throws him back with a Northern Lights Suplex, keeping the bridge for the pin!
1 . . .
2 . . .
Sami gets the shoulder up at 2! He tries to get to his feet right away but Becky kicks him in the gut. She sends Sami running to the ropes and he runs right back into a Leg Lariat! Sami rushes back to his feet right away but he's a bit dazed and walks right into the waiting arms of Becky who sends him overhead with the Bexploder Suplex! Not yet satisfied she goes over to the corner and climbs up to the second rope. She leaps off and delivers a Diving Leg Drop across Sami's throat! She goes for the pin!
1 . . .
2 . . .
Sami kicks out! Becky grabs his arm and turns him over onto his stomach. She steps over and sits down on the arm but Sami pulls his arm free and ends up standing behind her. He goes and kicks her right in the back of the head before picking her up by putting one arm behind her back, the other arm around her neck as he throws her back with the Half and Half Suplex! Becky lands so high on her neck that she flops back and wobbles back into the corner. Sami smells blood in the water and charges at her, going for the Helluva Kick! Becky rolls out of the way and Sami get's his leg caught in the corner. Becky grabs him from behind and pulls him away from the corner, lifting him up and spinning him up in the air to hit the Blue Thunder Bomb into the pin!
1 . . .
2 . . .
Sami gets the shoulder up at 2!
Mauro Ranallo: Blue Thunder Bomb by Becky Lynch!
Tom Phillips: I think that looked better than Sami Zayn's.
Corey Graves: How dare you Phillips! Becky Lynch is flat out stealing from the better man. We all know she used Sami Zayn to get a job and now she's going around calling herself the Forever Champion? What a gold digger.
Becky quickly gets up and and grabs Sami's arm that's lifted up, turning him over and this time fully sits on it to lock in the Disarmer! Sami starts screaming out in pain and lifts his other hand ready to tap, not wanting to risk his status for Wrestlemania. He brings his fist to his mouth however as he doesn't want to prove the narrative that Becky was carrying the Dynamic Duo. Instead he lifts up his head and takes a bite out of Becky's leg! She yells out in pain and releases his arm. Sami rolls away and holds his arm while Becky tells the ref that Sami bit her. Zayn pulls himself up while holding his arm and Becky comes over towards him. She tries to pull him away from the ropes but he gives her a thumb to the eye! She turns away and Sami gives her a schoolboy! The ref drops down to make the count and Sami puts his feet on the ropes!
1 . . .
2 . . .
3 . . .
But no! Becky kicks out at the last second! She rushes back up to her feet but she's still blinded. She can tell Sami is in the corner however and but Sami catches her and gives her a taste of her own medicine, an Exploder into the corner! Becky is dazed as she picks herself up in the cornber but Sami is just measuring her and when shes up, he runs at her and connects with the Helluva Kick! He throws her down and makes the pin!
1 . . .
2 . . .
3 . . .
Tony Chimel: Here is your winner, Sami Zayn!
Sami immediately goes to Becky's World Tag Team Championship and raises both titles up in celebration. The ref tries to tell Sami to give the title back but he quickly runs off and heads to the back with it. The ref checks on Becky as the show moves on.
The scene opens on AJ Styles laid out somewhere backstage.
As the shot remains on the unconscious Styles, suddenly things start to get blurry as things then cut away to AJ standing outside the ring.
”The Demi God” AJ Styles: Where am I?
Suddenly a ring bell is heard.
DING DING!
Tony Chimel: The following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first...
Suddenly the lights go out and the titantron screen begins to play a familiar clip.
After Goku says, “even further beyond, the screen goes black and all is silent for a moment until a familiar voice breaks the silence.
I HAVE ASCENDED!
The crowd boos but they’re drowned out by pyro shooting from the stage. At the end of it, the screen says two words, Demi God, as a new theme begins to play.
The song is, “Element of Surprise” by Lloyd Banks as AJ walks out to the instrumental playing, the Intercontinental Championship around his waist and his hood covering his head as he’s hunched over. He straightens up quickly, throwing the hood back and his arms out to the side as the vocals begin.
Tony Chimel: From Gainesville, Georgia. Weighing in at two hundred and eighteen pounds. He is the Intercontinental Champion and the 2021 Royal Rumble winner, the, “Demi God”, A...J....Styles!
AJ makes his way down the ramp, eyes focused on the ring, the look on his face one of seriousness as he enters the ring and gets ready for the match ahead.
”The Demi God” AJ Styles: How am I watching myself? Hey! AJ!
The AJ in the ring doesn’t respond he just continues to warm up as he watches the ramp.
Tony Chimel: And the opponent...
The lights of the arena shut down slowly phase by phase, until all of them are out. As the crowd begins to lift up their cell phone lights, 'Broken out in Love' Plays throughout the arena. On stage Bray Wyatt walks out with lantern in hand, shining it out as he walks to the center of the stage looking around at all the fireflies.
Wyatt raises his lantern up, staring at it mesmerized before taking a deep breath and blowing out the light. As soon as his lantern goes dark, the arena lights turn on. Wyatts expression changes like the lights as he suddenly has a big ear to ear smile as waves at all the people in the audience, he walks down the ramp and puts his hands to his chest lovingly. He slaps hands with the audience in the front row before swinging around in a circle at ringside with his arms extended out. He runs up the steel steps and across the ring apron laughing.
Tony Chimel: Weighing in at 285 pounds, hailing from The Firefly Fun House, Bray...Wyatt!
Bray enters the ring and just as Tony says his name he pumps his fist up and down in the air shouting out like a kid pretending to be a wrestler, he turns around and extends his hand out to Tony Chimel who seems a little taken aback but slowly shakes his hand. Bray covers Chimels hand with his other hand, saying something inaudible, before he shifts over and does the same with the Referee, shaking his hand and crossing his heart with his finger. He takes a step back to center ring, he extends his arms outward with his palms pointed up and his head looking up towards the heavens with a huge smile on his face. Before he turns his hands over downwards, putting his head down his smile going away as the shadow of his hat covers his eyes. He remains like this before taking his hat off and placing it on top of the ring post ready for his match.
DING DING!
As the opening bell sounds, AJ takes a swing at Bray but Bray catches it and spins AJ around. Styles goes for a Pele’ Kick but Bray blocks it. As AJ scrambles to his feet, Wyatt headbutts him and then grabs him, connecting with a quick Sister Abigail as he covers.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
DING DING DING!
Tony Chimel: Here is your winner and STILL the UWF Champion, Bray Wyatt!
”The Demi God” AJ Styles: No! How could it have been that easy?
Suddenly Bray and AJ are gone from the ring in a quick flash. In another quick flash, AJ finds himself standing in the center of the ring now face-to-face with himself.
Other AJ: We can’t beat him, AJ.
”The Demi God” AJ Styles: Don’t say that! Yes we can!
Other AJ: We can’t. We put on this confidence, this arrogance, but let’s be honest with ourselves, we’ve never been more doubtful, more hopeless, more...terrified.
”The Demi God” AJ Styles: You’re lying! We are not feeling those things! Snap out of it!
Styles goes to slap the other AJ but his hand goes right through him and then the other AJ vanishes. Suddenly Bray is seen standing at the bottom of the ramp.
Let me in.
Bray multiplies into many copies of himself as they’re all saying the same thing as AJ looks around in disbelief and when he looks back at where the other AJ was standing, there stands another Bray who plunges his hand into AJ’s chest.
Just what I expected to find, man. No heart!
All the Brays start laughing as AJ slinks to his knees clutching at his hair and screaming. Suddenly he’s sitting up in the locker room breathing heavily and sweating.
”The Demi God” AJ Styles: What a freakin’ nightmare. I’ve gotta take a walk.
AJ gets up and walks out of the locker room into the hallway and turns, continuing to walk as the show heads elsewhere.
Tom Phillips: Can't say i'm surprised with how this match is going. Poor Lance, it's been seven minutes and it doesn't seem to be able to fight back.
Rikishi drags Lance Storm over to a nearby turnbuckle. Rikishi slowly begins to ascend the corner ropes. He bounces a few times before leaping off and slamming his ass against Lance's chest.
Mauro Ranallo: I would have thought the new guy would have put up more of a fight. It's been a total squash match.
Corey Graves: It's the week before Wrestlemania. Rikishi doesn't have time to slow down.
The referee attempts to go for the pin. However Rikishi shakes his head and stands back up. Rikishi drags lance and places him a sitting position. The fans begin to cheer as they can only guess what's about to come next. Rikishi raises the roof, and turns his backside a few inches from Lance's face.
Tom Phillips: Oh no. Here it comes!!
Rikishi thrusts backwards and engulfs Lance's face. Lance attempts to push Rikishi off him, but doesn't appear to have the energy in him, and Rikishi doesn't appear to be getting off anytime soon. Rikishi holds his position for about thirty seconds.
Mauro Ranallo: Rikishi isn't letting up on Lance!?
Thirty more seconds begin to pass, and Lance finally begins to use his free hands to tap. His right hand repeatedly tapping onto the side of Rikishi ass and his left one tapping out onto the mat. The referee signals for the bell to be rung. Rikishi finally let's up.
Tom Phillips: Tap out by a stinkface? You see something new every night.
Rikishi: Next week, Abyss and Father Mitchell. You're next!!
Rikishi slaps his ass cheeks a few time before sliding out of the ring and heads backstage.
As the debut edition of Rebellion rolls on, we are brought into a new segment with the familiar theme of "The Keeper of the Catch," Jonathan Gresham blasting throughout the arena.
Gresh' steps out from behind the curtain to a chorus of boos and chants of "BORING" raining down over him. He simply smirks as he begins to make his way to the ring, adjusting his ring tape along the way. When he does arrive to the ring, he hops onto the apron making sure to wipe his feet before entering the sacred squared circle. He walks right over to Tony Chimel, who had been preparing to give Jonathan his ring announcement, and snatches the mic right out of his hands!
TOM PHILLIPS: "Looks like the self proclaimed "Last Pure Wrestler" has something to say here tonight!"
COREY GRAVES(sarcastically): "Ohhh, great this should be VERY entertaining!"
JONATHAN GRESHAM: "You know it seems to me that after my victory last week, a few of you were not only surprised, but that a vast majority of you took to Twitter after my match to let me know that the way I go about my business isn't very "Entertaining." I've said it every time I've come out here, but apparently it need further repeating. I am not here to put on a gymnastic display, I am not here to dive off of the highest thing in the building that I can find, and I am not here to be an entertainer! I am here to be a WRESTLER and prove that my way is the best way to get the job done! Last week, that's exactly what I did when I beat Tommaso Ciampa!"
Gresh' pauses to allow his word to really sink in with the fans. He doesn't care about their entertainment. Only himself, and his own goal of putting WRESTLING back in Pro-Wrestling!
TOM PHILLIPS: "Well, he did pick up the victory last week, but I don't think these fans were happy at all with the way Gresham obviously only cares for himself!"
"That brings me to tonight! Before, I get the biggest win in the biggest opportunity of my career, I'm going to give out an opportunity of my own! I've cleared this with UWF Management already, and tonight will be the debut of "Jonathan Gresham's WRESTLING CHALLENGE!" It's open to anyone in the world, signed UWF talent or indy darling, it doesn't matter! If you want to make a name for yourself and you think you can hang with the last PURE WRESTLER, then in just a few minutes I'm going to give you the chance to prove it!"
"But first, there are a few ground rules I need to cover! Along with the standard rules of a pro-wrestling match, my WRESTLING CHALLENGE has a few special rules to really test you. If I could direct your attention to the video screen I have prepared a few graphics to help explain these rules!"
***WRESTLING CHALLENGE RULE #1: If any WRESTLER dives from the ring to the floor, then that WRESTLER will be immediately disqualified.***
"This first rule is simply to make sure that this does stay a WRESTLING match, and doesn't deteriorate into a bullshit gymnastic display!"
*** WRESTLING CHALLENGE RULE #2: Each wrestler has three rope breaks to stop submission holds and pinfalls. After a wrestler exhausts his rope breaks, submission and pin attempts on or under the ropes by his opponent are legal.***
"The second rule comes from a rule I set up for sparring at my dojo, it's simply to test you. Test how good you really are at wrestling without having to have a rope break to stop me from breaking a limb or pinning your shoulders to the mat!"
*** WRESTLING CHALLENGE RULE #3: Closed-fist punches to the face are not permitted; only open-handed slaps, chops, or forearm strikes to the face are allowed. Punches to other parts of the body are permitted, excluding low blows. The first use of a closed fist will get a warning; the second will be a disqualification.***
"And the third and final rule, a personal favorite of mine, this one is to exclude any brawling from happening. That's not what this is about. Finally, without any further ado, lets get the challenge under way!!!!"
After a few minutes of waiting, an unfamiliar theme begins to play over the P.A.
Bursting through the curtain with a ton of energy is Cole Radrick! He's bouncing around to the beat of his theme with a huge smile on his face knowing just how big of an opportunity it is to be on the debut episode of Rebellion! He bounces his way to the ring and hops on in, jumping over the top rope and ascending the turnbuckle to get a look out at the crowd he's preforming in front of.
MAURO RANALLO: "This is independent standout Cole Radrick, he's got a bit of a different style, and actually often will take to the sky in order to get his win, but with that being off limits here tonight it'll be interesting to see exactly how Cole fares in this Gresham's Wrestling Challenge here tonight!"
COREY GRAVES: "Yeah, I've heard rumblings of this kid and tonight we get to see if he's ready for the big time as he takes on the ultra charismatic, Jonathan Gresham!"
Tony walks over to Cole in order to get his ring info to make the official introductions.
TONY CHIMEL: "Ladies and Gentlemen this is Jonathan Gresham's Wrestling Challenge!! Allow me to introduce the participants! Of course, already in the ring, weighing in at 161 pounds, from Atlanta, GA, he is The Last Pure Wrestler and The Keeper of the Catch, JONATHAN GRESHAM!!"
Gresham takes a few steps forward and stares at Cole Radrick while raising one arm in the air and taking a moment to bathe in the "Boring" chants coming at him.
TONY CHIMEL: "And accepting the challenge, from Spencer, IN.......COLE RADRICK!!!"
With the official introductions out of the way the ref checks both men and asks if they're ready to compete, both men are and the ref calls for the bell!
DING DING DING
The bell has barely finished ringing before Gresham charges Radrick and quickly goes behind to grab a waist lock! Radrick struggles to counter but finally does as he is able to execute a go behind of his own and grabbing a hammerlock. Without any trouble, however, Gresh' is quickly able to counter out by shimmying his body down and creating a low center of gravity, rolling into the pressure and landing on his back to relive any pressure being applied, and using his foot to break Radrick's grip and grabbing a wrist lock. Cole tries to pull the same 'roll into the pressure' move that Gresham had just used, but Gresh' rolls along with Raddy to keep his hold applied, furthermore, Gresh' goes a step further by placing his foot on the inside of Cole's knee to gain more leverage, he then traps Radrick's arm behind his knee and rolls him over into a La Magistral Pin!
ONE
TWO
KICKOUT!!
MAURO RANALLO: "What sequence from these two athletes!! It nearly ended that quickly!!"
Gresham and Radrick quickly get back their feet. Gresh' wastes no time charging in with viscous open hand slaps to the jaw of Radrick! Cole is eventually backed into the corner where he is able to cover up for a moment before Gresh' delivers a boot to the mid section of Radrick! The ref begins his count, insisting Gresham get Cole out of the corner. Gresh' happily does this by grabbing Cole's arm and sending him hard into the opposite corner. Cole hits hard, but is able to retain his footing by leaning into the corner. Gresh' quickly charges him and hits a devastating rolling elbow which is quickly followed up with a HUGE release German Suplex!!
Instead of going in for the cover Gresh' takes the time to yell at Cole saying he isn't on his level and giving taunting slaps to the head of the Indiana based wrestler. After landing hard on his head, Cole finally begins to dizzily get back to his feet. When he does Gresham is waiting and almost instantly hooks Radrick in the Octopus Stretch!! It doesn't take long after this for Raddy to lose his footing and eventually, due to being tied up, he is unable to physically tap instead having to painfully scream out "I QUIT...I QUIT!!" With this the ref tells Gresh' he's won, however Gresh' isn't keen on letting go until he's sure he's made Radrick understand he really isn't on the level of Gresham!
TOM PHILLIPS: "Well Gresham picks up the win in the first edition of his Wrestling Challenge, but come on! When the man taps let go of the hold!"
COREY GRAVES: "It's called making a statement, Phillips! I may not like his style, but I've gotta hand it to Gresham, he did just that with a dominant showing here tonight!"
After finally letting go, it would seem Gresham was on his way to the back after a quick and decisive victory, but unluckily for Cole, that wasn't the case. Instead, Gresham begins searching under the ring for something. He seems to have found what he's looking for when he pulls out a ladder! He takes his time to let everyone in the arena see what he's found before sliding it in the ring! The ref pleads with Gresh' to just leave, but it's not working as he moves Radrick's body closer to the ladder. He looks into the camera and simply says "Wrestlemania" before sliding Radrick's left leg between the opening between rungs in the ladder and snatching Raddy in a Single Leg Boston Crab and wrenching it back FULLY!! The extreme pain is VERY evident as all Cole can muster is an unintelligible, blood curdling scream! After a few moments, Gresham finally lets go allowing the ref to call for medical assistance. Gresham looks down at the havoc he'd created for the UWF hopeful as he exits the ring and heads to the back.
MESSAGE FROM YOUR HORSE OF WAR.
We see the Warhorse standing out in the parking garage, he’s standing there with a piece of pizza stranded out of his mouth, we’ve caught him mid bite.
He takes it down, and puts it aside on a car bonnet and wipes his hands together to get rid of the grease, preparing to say a few words.
WARHORSE: MANY PEOPLE HAVE QUESTIONED THE WARHORSE’S SPOT, HEADING INTO MANIA, NOT A DAMN SOUL THERE IN THE BACK REALLY KNOWS WHAT’S GOING ON IN THE HEAD OF THE WARHORSE, YET IT SEEMS PRETTY MUCH EVERYONE IN THE AUDIENCE HAS REALISED NOW. HOW ODD IS THAT, EH?! I MEAN IT’S ALMOST IF THEY’VE SPAT OUT SO MANY BRAIN CELLS THEY DON’T HAVE ANY LEFT TO THINK WITH!
THAT’S UP TO THEM THOUGH, HOW MUCH THEY DECIDE TO THINK REALLY ISN’T ON THE WARHORSE’S MIND, BECAUSE THERE’S NO GAME PLAN THAT TRUMPS THE WARHORSE’S. AND THAT’S JUST TO WORK, AND WORK, UNTIL THEY CAN’T EVEN SEE YOU BECAUSE YOU’VE SOARED UP TO THE TOP LIKE A ROCKET.
The Warhorse gestures this rocket in his mind rising and soaring up to the sky.
YET EVERYONE JUST THINKS THE WARHORSE CAN’T DO IT. LIKE THE WARHORSE IS UNABLE TO DO SUCH A THING. LIKE THE WARHORSE CAN’T EVEN COMPUTE THE HELL OUT OF IT IN HIS MIND?! THIS IS THE MAN WHO PUT DOWN WORLD CHAMPIONS. WORLD CHAMPIONS. NOT SCRAPING BY BOTTOM BARREL SCRAP. SPIKE DUDLEY. ULTRAMANTIS BLACK. HELL, BRAY WYATT.
WHO BEATS IT IN THIS COMPANY?! NOBODY, THAT’S WHO, AND THE WARHORSE IS PROVING IT IN THIS MOMENT WHO THE HELL THE WARHORSE IS. WHAT THE HELL THE WARHORSE FIGHTS FOR. WHAT’S ON THE WARHORSE’S MIND.
He also gestures towards his head and the mind working away.
IT’S NOT PUNK’S FAT FRIEND, NO, HE CAN GO GET THE PIZZA AND PEPSIS FOR HIM AS FAR AS I’M CONCERNED BECAUSE HE’S NOT EVEN IN THE WARHORSE’S MIND. ALL THE WARHORSE SEES. ALL THE WARHORSE IS WORKING FOR, IT’S THAT UWF INTERCONTINENTAL CHAMPIONSHIP CM PUNK HAS HOSTAGE.
SO WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING HERE TONIGHT THEN, YOU ASK?! WELL I-
Suddenly an envelope floats in midair and smashes into the face of the Warhorse, stunning him slightly, and he grabs it to hold firm in his hands. It has his name on it.
WH-
The Warhorse opens up the letter, from the back with his finger digging in. He pulls out a small piece of paper, and we see around to what it says as he stands stunned for a moment.
“MEET
ME
IN
THE
RING
KID.”
The Warhorse stands confused, he has no idea who this is for, we don’t even know if he was here tonight to fight. We guess he has no choice now.
UH.
He walks on away, presumably making his way into the arena.
UP NEXT: Go Shiozaki vs Yoshinari Ogawa...
Ogawa, a grizzled veteran of the Japanese wrestling scene and a trailblazer for technical wrestling, is already in the ring... eager to take a crack at the man that's about to appear.
As the conquering violin washes over the atmosphere, the grand, green lights begin to flash, signalling the arival of Go Shiozaki. The camera tracks him from behind as he confidently makes makes his way out from backstage, and into the grand, spacious arena where he calls home.
Go comfortably looks out into the crowd, soaking in the cheers. These are his people. This is his home. Seeing all this adoration directed at him fills him with a sense of validation. There's no other feeling like it in the world. Only in a wrestling atmosphere can Go feel like this. His eyes wander from section to section, before fixating on the ring. As the song behind him breaks out into a warcry, Go marches onward toward the ring while a burst of green steam accompanies him on the entry way. Go's thoughts begin to fill with the looming battle and his imminent success as he reaches the ring. He stretches his hands out to grip the ropes as he leans over in thought, stepping into a winning mindset... the only mindset Go lives in. He steps through the ropes and stands tall in the ring.
Go can't help but look out into the atmosphere. The sight from the ring is like nothing else in the world. It's hypnotising almost, and Go cannot get enough of it. He spends his days thinking of almost nothing but this sight, he can't live without it... and now here he is, taking it all in. A smile inches its way onto his face as he dips into his corner, ready to do what he does best... or rather, the only thing he can do.
Go sizes up the smaller and older Ogawa, and Ogawa responds with a mischievous glance back. These two are familiar with each other. They've crossed paths a few times in Go's former home of Pro Wrestling NOAH. Ogawa seems to have a chip on his shoulder as the two lean back into their respective corners, ready for the match to begin.
DING DING DING!
Go cautiously approaches Ogawa in the middle of the ring, aware of Ogawa's reputation as a trouble maker. Ogawa also approaches, his eyes narrowing on Go. Ogawa stretches his arms out, trying to feel Go out... and Go responds with a tight lock up, wide base. Ogawa immediately knows he's outmatched by Go's power and takes the hold to the ropes, yelling at the ref to get Go off of him. Go understands and nonchalantly backs off without the ref even instructing him, and Ogawa sees an opening to pop Go in the jaw with a cheeky forearm! It agitates Shiozaki and he lurches forward to retaliate but Ogawa scurries out of the ring like a rat, leaving Go to glare at him from inside the ring. Ogawa flashes a grin. This is his game and he loves playing it. The ref begins his count.
1...
2...
3...
4...
5...
Ogawa still stands unmoving, devilishly watching Go gesture for him to get in the damn ring.
6...
7...
Ogawa places his hands on his hips, still completely ignoring the count
8...
The veteran then quickly heads to the timekeeper's table, shoving the poor guy off his chair before picking it up for himself.
9...
Ogawa finally sprints to the ring, sliding under the bottom rope with the chair in hand. Go looks at him disappointedly and the ref immediately scolds him and fights the chair out of his hands, Ogawa shouting obscenities at the ref all the while. The ref goes to dump the chair out of the ring and while his head is turned, Ogawa runs up and kicks Go where it hurts! An agonizing low blow followed up by a lightning quick inside cradle! When the ref turns back around Ogawa has Go's shoulders on the mat!
One!
Two!
Thre...
No!
Go just barely gets out of the pin! He's immediately up to his feet but the wiley veteran is one step ahead of him, using his momentum to take Go down into a Fujiwara armbar, ruthlessly wrenching that arm. Go cries out in pain as Ogawa goes further up the arm, putting all the pressure on Go's hurt shoulder. Go isn't tapping out, there's no way in hell. Ogawa knows it too, but he wants to destroy that shoulder. It'll make hitting that Gowan lariat all the more painful. He wants to humble Go. Ogawa's been a wrestling pioneer in Japan for decades and all the sudden Go is Japan's shining star, their representative? Nuh-uh, Ogawa puts all his might from his awkward stature into tearing that shoulder up. Ogawa positions himself higher and higher, getting a bit greedy with the hold... and that allows Go to roll him backwards into a pin.
One!
Two!
Kickout!
Go makes his way to his feet and Ogawa cautiously follows, weary to not make the same mistake Go did. When he sees Go fixing to make a move he lurches forward, attempting to pick the knee... but Go anticipates it. He's mindful of Ogawa's signature leg work and stuffs him, keeping a steady base. Ogawa is in a bad place but he can't do anything about it before Go nails him with a knee trembler that sends him rolling backwards. Go tries to capitalize but Ogawa's ring awareness leads him falling back toward the ropes, wrapping his legs around them to once again stop Go from getting anything substantial in.
Go is frustrated as all hell and hurriedly motions to the ref to get Ogawa back in the game. Ogawa once again slowly approaches Shiozaki, expecting another attempted lockup that he can take advantage of... but he's wrong. Go arches his arm forward for an ear-shattering slap to the jaw. It gets a resounding "woop!" from the crowd. It's a humiliating strike to the veteran. "Who the hell does this kid think he is?!", Ogawa thinks. He came here to humble Go, to show people the best Japan truly has to offer, not to get humiliated. He can't let something like that go unanswered. He momentarily abandons his gameplan, responding with a slap to Go's chin. They're playing Go's game now. Shiozaki stretches out his wounded shoulder before driving forward with a scathing chop to Ogawa's chest. Ogawa refuses to look phased by this man. He immediately responds with a slap... and if you know Go Shiozaki... you know there's zero chance he's going to let himself look phased by a 50 year old man. He immediately responds with another brutal chop to the chest, followed by a loud Ogawa slap. There's no pauses now. Rapid fire chops followed by rapid fire slaps. A battle of will to see who gives in first. Time goes by with nothing but sounds of flesh hitting flesh filling that time. Minutes pass before even the slightest moment of weakness is shown by either men. Ogawa finally hesitates after an earth-shattering chop by Go. The crowd gasps at the sight of Ogawa taking a moment to gather himself... and another gasp is let out... this time by Ogawa as he's greeted with a slap louder than any of his when he turns back to Go! Ogawa is dazed. This is it. He dared to play Go's game and he lost. Now Go grabs his wrist and brings him forward for a short-arm lariat that blasts Ogawa!... and that's when Go starts to feel it. The blast from that lariat combined with all those rotations of the arm has that shoulder in absolutely dire condition. Go falls to a knee...
...but this is Go Shiozaki we're talking about. Pain? That's just motivation to go. He surges up and raises that arm as high as he possibly can. He doesn't give a damn. He could go to the moonsault, he could go to the Go Flasher, but he wants to prove a point. He's finishing this thing with the lariat. Go's got the whole crowd behind him as he winds that arm up, signalling the Gowan lariat as Ogawa stirs. He finally makes it up to his feet, and Go surges forward. The arm raised high in the air!... and crashing down for Gowan lariatooooo-NO! Ogawa twirls through the air, catching the arm and bringing it down in an armbar! The wiley veteran! One step ahead! The crowd lets out a gasp of shock as Go cries out in pain. His pride might have just gotten the better of him. Ogawa might break that poor damn arm if Go doesn't tap. Ogawa grits his teeth and stretches it back as far as it goes. He wants it so bad. He wants to show people what real pro wrestling looks like, not that honor bullshit goons like Go shove down his throat. He needs it... but so does Go. The thought of losing here horrifies Go. Is he going to tap, on a show that isn't even revolution?... days before his mania match?! No... that can't happen... he's on a quest to be perfect, and that won't be stopped here. His arm feels like it might just fall off, but he still powers through. He fights up to his feet and with all his might he lifts up Ogawa, who can't believe what's happening. He fruitlessly keeps the hold on, but it's no use. Go hoists him all the way up until his shoulders before Ogawa is forced to let go. Go lets out a barbaric scream before walking forward and dropping Ogawa with a devastating Death Valley Bomb! Brutal!
The fans break out into a "Go!" chant! This is it. Go is immersed in a feeling of euphoria. Nothing can stop him as he heads to the turnbuckles, climbing to the top rope. He stands atop the ring, dazzled by the bright lights, the screaming fans, everything. It's perfect. He leaps off, beautifully twisting through the air and landing on Ogawa for a picture perfect Kobashi Moonsault. That's it. Go can pin him right here, but that's not enough for Go. He has to prove his point, no matter how ill-advised it is. The crowd is confused when Go doesn't go for the pin, instead opting to drag Ogawa to the corner... but they understand when Go backs up... lifting that arm high into the air. The crowd roars, and so does Go... rushing forward and crushing Ogawa with an emphatic Gowan Lariat. Ogawa immediately goes limp and Go makes the cover.
One!
Two!
Three!!!
Tony Chimel: Your winner.... SHIOZAKIIIIIII GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!
A momentous victory for Shiozaki is immediately followed up by him grabbing a mic, wanting to speak while he can still stand with feeling in his arm.
Go Shiozaki: GALLOWAY! Nothing will stop me!... not pain, not loss, not anything! Kill me and I'll come back from the dead! There's no way around it! I WILL beat you!... I must.
Go sincerely believes those words. It feels like everything that has happened thus far in the UWF has lead up to this moment, the moment he beats Drew Galloway. He's gotta make it happen. It's the only thing on his mind as he drops to the mat, exiting the ring with his arm still raised high.
The titantron cuts from the UWF graphic to a feed from the arena lobby. Somewhere in the moral grey area between the over-priced concession and the crowded merch stands, a kiosk has been erected. Table below, tent above, banner slapped on in big, bold lettering.
ASSHOLE LIVE ON 92.5
Of course the infamously brash Mr. Kennedy is on the scene. The former UWF Superstar has brought his regional radio program back to the major leagues, just in time for Wrestlemania season. Ken hollers into the stick, simultaneously broadcasting his show while addressing any fans within ear shot.
Kennedy: Ladies and germs, it's your pleasure to welcome back Missssttteeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeer Kennnnnnneddddddyyyy... Kennnneeeeddddddyyyyyyyy... to the UWF!
The Packer's Fan looks around to find the disinterested masses mostly just shuffling by, with a few morbidly curious folks stopping to take pictures of the never-really-was-been. Kennedy carries on with his signature, stomach-turning gusto regardless.
Kennedy: It's been a hot minute since the stuffed-up suits and ties saw fit to invite yours truly in. Their loss. But when I got a phone call this last week with Ethan Carter himself begging me to swing by and help sell the most lackluster-looking Wrestlemania card in history, I said "Ethan... pay me what I'm worth and you got yourself a deal!"
Long story short, not even those billionaire Carters could dish out enough doe to get me past the driveway at market value, but being that I'm so friggin magnanimous, I came here strictly out of the spirit of charity anyway. After all, what kind of guy would I be if I let this company shoot itself in the foot by trying to promote the biggest show of the year without its biggest star ever? And yeah, I'm a little too busy building this media empire brick by brick to lace 'em up these days, but trust me when I say that the Asshole from Wisconsin still knows this game better than anybody in the world!
Crickets. A crippling wave of indifference from everyone nearby. Feeling a little insecure about it now, Kennedy tugs at his collar and shouts a bit louder.
Kennedy: Which isn't to say that I wouldn't step back through the ropes if duty called! You can take the man out of the ring, but you can't take the ring out of the man, if ya know what I mean. Once a wrassler, always a wrassler. Jesus Louisous, have you guys even since these miserable bums they're calling champions these days? A fat clown? A scrawny dweeb? A Mexican midget? I could take any of these jerk-offs any night of the week!
A child stops next to the desk and asks their mom who the yelly blonde man is. She shrugs and hastily ushers her kid away.
Kennedy: But lucky for them, I'm strictly a radio man now. Yep. Asshole Live on 92.5 - still the highest rated after-midnight talk radio show in many parts of the greater Green Bay area. Too edgy for add revenue! That's how you know it's good! We operate strictly by donation of working class, blue collar folks such as yourselves! Check out our patreon! We'd love to have you join the Asshole Army! I've got all the paperwork right here!
He waves a clipboard in the faces of a couple of teens just trying to find their way back to their seats.
Kennedy: Your loss, ya squirts! Speaking of, how about my ol' buddy Swoggle, huh? That little bastard left me high and dry to come work in this dump again! Apparently he's "too good" to be an "unpaid intern". The mother lovin' nerve!
But I'm not bitter. I actually think it's hilarious! HA. HAHAHA. That's what passes for a UWF Superstar these days? Ummmm... insert fart noise here! I could beat the breaks off that freakin' leprechaun.
Somebody spills their popcorn just outside the concession stand. The kerfuffle that causes - the parting of the crowd and the hustle to clean it up - draws far more attention than Kennedy is getting. It isn't lost on him.
Kennedy: Oh what? You think I'm joking? You think ol' Ken Kennedy is just fooling around huh? Like I wouldn't actually do it? Well guess what, people... the jokes on you! That's right! Tonight, I'm challenging Hornswoggle to match!
A janitor with one of those portable back-pack vacuum cleaners fires his machine up, making it difficult to here anything. Kennedy shouts even louder to break through the noise.
Kennedy: AND IF I WIN... I GET A UWF CONTRACT AGAIN! I GET A WRESTLEMANIA MATCH!
Its unclear whether everyone's ignoring him or his ranting is just inaudible now.
Kennedy: OKAY. ITS SETTLED THEN. IF ANYONE OPPOSES THIS STIPULATION... SPEAK NOW OR FOREVER HOLD YOUR PEACE... GOING... GOING... GONE! SOLD! I'M BACK, BABY! MR. KENNEDY IS BACK!
The vacuum shuts off and everything goes back to as it once was. Kennedy is standing there, smiling like an idiot, rubbing his hands together as he visualizes his return(?) to glory. The show continues elsewhere.
DING! DING!
Tony Chimel: The following contest is an open challenge, introducing first...
The pumping sounds of "Thrash Metal Cassette" blast through the PA, with the menacing riff and cough. The lyrics pump in, and the pumping sounds continue to flow, until we peak up and then we hit the strong, driving scream coming through the speakers, as the Warhorse pumps through the curtain, standing off with a vague look of confusion, staring around the arena. The Warhorse sympathisers in the crowd bang their heads with ultra enthusiasm, as well as the minority which so happen to be Dinosaur Pile-Up fans.
Tony Chimel: Weighing in tonight at 4000 lbs of Raw Heavy Metal, from St Louis, Missouiri, USA, Warhorse!
The Warhorse then starts marching down to the ramp more delicate than usual. He slides up onto the apron and stands, climbing right through the ropes, and standing in the middle of the ring as the legendary chorus rings out for all to hear, and the Warhorse reaches through the ropes for a microphone. He then backs up in the middle where he stands with this microphone.
WARHORSE: SO WHAT THE GODDAMN HELL THEN?! THE WARHORSE GOT A LETTER. READING THE WORDS, MEET. ME. OUT. THERE. KID. WHO THE HELL CALLS THE WARHORSE KID BACK THERE? I SWEAR TO GOD I’LL SHIT ON ALL OF YOUR GODDAMN EYES IF NONE OF YOU COME OUT HERE. SINCE I KNOW SOMEONE IS BEHIND THAT GODDAMN MESSAGE AND FRANKLY, THE WARHORSE DOESN’T HAVE THE SPACE IN HIS MIND TO FOG UP WITH MYSTERY, ESPECIALLY CONSIDERING MY GODDAMN IMPORTANT MATCH COMING UP AT NONE OTHER THAN, WRESTLEMANIA FOLKS.
FEAR NOT THOUGH, BECAUSE THE WARHORSE IS GODDAMN READY TO FIGHT ANYONE, SEEING AS I DON’T THINK WE’LL BE SEEING PUNK AND HIS FAT FRIEND HERE TONIGHT. COME ON OUT, I DON’T HAVE ALL NI-
The arena plunges into darkness and the Warhorse’s microphone suddenly cuts out. Bewildered what’s going on, we can see his silhouette lost in the ring.
Lines begin to build up on the tron, erratically, in neon, bold stark colours.
Building.
Building and formulating. Becoming more wild per the second.
ABSOLUTELY GODDAMN OUT OF CONTROL.
MAURO RANALLO: HOLY-
TOM PHILLIPS: SHIT IT’S THE ULTIMATE WARRIOR.
THE ROOF EXPLODES WITH EXCITEMENT AS THE PIECE OF SHIT, KNOWN AS THE ULTIMATE WARRIOR IS HERE.
HE’S ROSE FROM THE DEPTHS OF THE GRAVE THE WARHORSE PUT HIM DEEP IN.
AND HE’S GODDAMN HERE, TO FIGHT THE WARHORSE AHEAD OF THE BIGGEST NIGHT OF HIS CAREER, AND THE WARHORSE CAN’T BELIEVE HIS DAMN BEADY LITTLE EYES.
HE STANDS COMPLETELY AND UTTERLY STRUCK.
HE CAN’T MOVE.
HE’S SO BEWILDERED, BUT GODDAMN HERE HE COMES.
THE ULTIMATE WARRIOR STARTS PELTING DOWN THE RAMP AT ATOMIC SPEEDS, BREAKING THE LAWS OF TIME AND SPACE.
HE LOOKS GODDAMN RIPPED, LIKE HE’S IN HIS PRIME, HE EVEN HAS HIS GODDAMN BROWN HAIR. AND HE DIED WITH GREY.
HE JUMPS UP TO THOSE ROPES WITH PYRO LIKE GODDAMN NOBODY COULD.
NOBODY.
TONY CHIMEL: FROM SOMEWHERE, WEIGHING SOMETHING, WHO GIVES A SHIT, IT’S THE ULTIMATE WARRIOR. LOSE YOUR BANANAS.
HE SHAKES THEM LIKE A GODDAMN EARTHQUAKE ERUPTING. BREAKING ALL OF OUR GODDAMN BLADDERS.
HE THEN GETS IN, AND STARTS RUNNING THOSE ROPES LIKE A MADMAN AS THE WARHORSE STILL STANDS STAGNANT IN AWE.
HE’S STILL GOING.
STILL.
GOING.
TIME.
Corey Graves: What is happening?
AFTER.
TIME. HE’S HITTING THOSE ROPES.
THE REFEREE CALLS TO START THE MATCH WITH THE BELL BECAUSE HE KNOWS THIS AIN’T STOPPING ANY TIME SOON.
DING! DING!
THE WARHORSE IS SLIGHTLY PHASED BY THE BELL RINGING, BUT IS STILL KINDA IN AWE AT THE FACT OF THE ULTIMATE WARRIOR JUST COMING BACK FROM THE DEAD LIKE THAT. OR WAS HE EVER EVEN DEAD? WHO KNOWS. WAIT. WHOSE GRAVE WAS THAT THEN? PROBABLY DEAD. GODDAMN, WE’RE ROCKING AND ROLLING NOW, AS THE WARRIOR IS STILL RUNNING THESE ROPES LIKE A MANIAC.
TOM PHILLIPS: WHO KNOWS HOW LONG HE’LL RUN.
Corey Graves: Help.
THE WARHORSE CATCHES ONTO THE FACT THAT WARRIOR WILL PROBABLY RUN THESE ROPES FOREVER AND EVER, AND LINES HIMSELF UP IN THE MIDDLE OF THE RING, JUST OUT OF THE SIDE OF WARRIOR, AND AS HE CROSSES OVER, THE WARHORSE CLEANS HIM OUT WITH A MASSIVE DROPKICK SENDING HIM CRASHING DOWN ON HIS SIDE.
MAURO RANALLO: WARRIOR IS DOWN, I REPEAT, WARRIOR IS DOWN.
SUDDENLY, AS IF HE’S A MAN POSSESSED, THE ULTIMATE WARRIOR IMMEDIATELY GETS BACK UP AND CLEANS OUT THE WARHORSE WITH A MASSIVE LARIAT AND BEGINS RUNNING THE OTHER SET OF ROPES. HE GOES AROUND AND AROUND. THE WARHORSE LOOKS UP, SLIGHTLY PISSED OFF NOW.
THE WARHORSE SLIDES UNDER THE BOTTOM ROPE AND KEEPS A FIRM GAZE ON THE ULTIMATE WARRIOR RUNNING THESE ROPES. HE CLIMBS UP THE ROPES, BEING CAREFUL, REALISING HOW MUCH THEY SHAKE FROM HIM RUNNING THEM, HOLDING ON FOR ALL LIFE.
TOM PHILLIPS: IT SEEMS THE WARHORSE IS TRYING TO SEAL THE NAIL IN THE COFFIN.
Corey Graves: GOOD! Wait no, am I becoming one of them?! Help.
THE WARHORSE YELLS OVER AT THE REFEREE TO GET HIM THE MICROPHONE HE DROPPED IN AWE. HE DOES SO, AND PASSES IT ONTO THE WARHORSE, WHO IS SHAKING ON THE TOP ROPE FROM THE POWER THE ULTIMATE WARRIOR IS SLAMMING INTO THESE ROPES WITH. HE SHAKES IT UP TO HIS MOUTH.
WARHORSE: JACKASS OVER HERE, YOU WAS BETTER DEAD YOU ROIDED UP MONKEY.
THE WARRIOR IS COMPLETELY OFFENDED THAT THE WARHORSE USED A SLUR TOWARDS HIM THAT HE’D USE TO DEGRADE MANY MINORITIES IN THE PAST. IT STUNS HIM SO MUCH HE STOPS, AND RUNS OVER TO THE WARHORSE, BUT LITTLE DOES HE KNOW, THAT’S HIS TRAP!
THE WARHORSE STAMPS DOWN WARRIOR BY HIS FOREHEAD WITH THE ASS RULER, AND HOOKS BOTH LEGS, LEANING FORWARD.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
DING! DING!
TONY CHIMEL: HERE IS YOUR WINNER, THE WARHORSE!
Warhorse gets his hand raised as we return to regular type. He looks down on Warrior who lays there completely dysfunctional, not moving in the slightest as he looks at him with confusion. He walks out, leaving this behind him. He doesn’t want to see him ever again, but who knows if he’ll get this wish granted.
Warrior lays still as we head elsewhere.
The show graphic flashes across the screen as we cut away to another segment. Charly Caruso is seen backstage, standing by for an interview.
CHARLY CARUSO
Ladies and gentlemen, my guest at his time: Trent Seven.
The camera pans over to the king of Moustache Mountain, who smiles as the lens finds him.
Trent, thanks for joining me. Now, people have been wondering why you're here tonight, so I'm here to get it straight from the source: what brings Trent Seven to a UWF arena?
Trent nods and leans in to answer.
TRENT SEVEN
Thanks Charly. And I'm glad you asked. See, I'm here for one reason and one reason only, and that's to track down Drew Galloway and get some revenge for my mate, Pete. Ever since Galloway went solo, Pete has been despondent. He genuinely believed he had a brother in that bastard and Drew's ambush hurt a lot more emotionally and psychologically than it did physically. Now, Pete is an old friend of mine, and a good one. So I can't let that kind of misdeed go unpunished.
Charly takes control of the interview again.
As you no doubt know, Trent, Drew Galloway has been on a tear here in the UWF. What makes you think that you can stop him?
Back to Seven.
Charly, you misunderstand my intentions. I'm not looking to stop the Scottish Psychopath, I'm looking to hurt him. I owe it to my friend.
With that, Seven leaves, and Charly signs off before the feed moves along.
Things open on AJ Styles standing in the ring flipping his microphone.
”The Demi God” AJ Styles: Alright I don’t know what kind of crap Bray’s trying to pull tonight but there’s only one way to get out my frustrations. I don’t care who it is, I want a freakin’ match right here, right now, so somebody come on out!
AJ drops his microphone and starts to warm up as suddenly the titantron comes alive.
The lights of the arena shut down slowly phase by phase, until all of them are out. As the crowd begins to lift up their cell phone lights, 'Broken out in Love' Plays throughout the arena as AJ gets riled up and starts motioning for Bray to bring it. A figure comes through the curtain onto the stage dressed as Bray but it’s obvious that it isn’t as AJ suddenly looks angered and whoever it is makes their way down the ramp and enters the ring.
As the lights come up, AJ smacks the hat off the person’s head and it’s seen that it’s Bo Dallas.
DING DING!
AJ kicks Bo in the stomach and hooks an arm around his head, connecting with a quick DDT. As Bo tries to regain his bearings, AJ steps through the ropes and stands on the apron as he removes his right glove and elbow pad. Bo gets to his feet as AJ hops onto the rope and connects with the Phenomenal Forearm, busting Dallas open. AJ climbs into the mount and starts peppering Bo with punches, blood getting on his fist, before he stands up and brings Bo with him, holding Bo downward as he connects with a Sister Abigail. Styles covers.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
DING DING DING!
Tony Chimel: Here is your winner, AJ Styles!
Corey Graves: Well it wasn’t much of a warm-up match for Wrestlemania but AJ got his frustrations out and has certainly sent a message to Bray Wyatt.
AJ picks up the hat he knocked off Bo’s head and puts it on as he falls to his knees and imitates Bray’s taunt.
”The Demi God” AJ Styles: Let me in!
AJ laughs to himself as he stands up and throws the hat down at Bo, exiting the ring and making his way up the ramp as the show heads elsewhere.
We’re joined backstage, we see Renee Young prepared to give some post match interviewing to someone.
Renee Young: Hello UWF Universe! Renee Young here reporting with an exclusive interview with my guest at this time, the man who has just defeated the Ultimate Warrior after a confusing year for him. The Warhorse.
The Warhorse walks into the frame, clearly a bit shaken by what just happened out there. But only really out of confusion.
Renee Young: Now, something that might interest you directly is we’ve received words from Warrior.
WARHORSE: OH?
Renee Young: Yes, the message we’ve received is as follows… “to the grave I return, this isn’t over.” In full caps, of course.
WARHORSE: WHAT A JACKASS. LITTLE DOES HE KNOW, IT IS OVER. I’M DONE HERE TONIGHT WITH THAT. I’VE GOT BRIGHTER THINGS ON MY MIND. THAT’S TO FIGHT AND SHOW MY WORTH. TO BE A CHAMPION, TO SHOW THE WORLD THAT THE WARHORSE IS A NAME GOING DOWN IN THE RECORD BOOKS AS A LEGEND.
WRITE IT DOWN, RENEE, LEGEND. NOT SILLY GOOSE CHASING SOME RACIST ASSHOLE LIKE THE ULTIMATE WARRIOR. CHASING MY LEGACY, DOING IT FOR THOSE WHO CARE FOR ME, AND THOSE WHO NEVER GAVE UP ON ME.
Renee suddenly turns.
Renee Young: Also, we’ve got another message from someone else.
She turns back with a blue can.
Renee Young: PEPSI?!
WARHORSE: NO. GOD. I KNEW YOU WERE PUNK’S FUCKIN’ BITCH, I’M OUT OF HERE. THIS IS DONE, RENEE, TAKE THAT CAN AND STICK IT UP YOUR ASS WHY DON’TCHA?!
We head elsewhere.
As a new theme hits the arena PA, the fans are unsure how to react. Then emerges the journeyman, Trent Seven, with an expression that reads as all business. Seven is in his ring gear as he heads down to the squared circle and slides into the ring, then crosses it to collect a microphone.
TRENT SEVEN
I'm here for one thing and one thing only. Drew Galloway: I'm calling you out. You betrayed a mutual friend of ours weeks ago and it's time you pay the price for that misdeed.
Seven lowers the microphone and starts to pace, awaiting the arrival of his opponent. He waits for an awkwardly long amount of time. 30 seconds? 45? Then...
Galloway's theme hits the soundsystem like a shotgun and the fans erupt in loud boos as the Scottish Psychopath emerges from the back. With a cold look on his face, Drew throws his head back and roars, then heads straight down the ramp, ready to rumble with Seven as a referee scrambles into the ring.
Galloway reaches the foot of the ramp but then Seven runs the ropes and dives between them looking for a suicide dive!
Mauro Ranallo: Tope Suicida!
But Drew catches him! Seven squirms in the grip as Drew walks straight for the nearest corner post and smashes Seven's spine into the unforgiving steel. Drew then spins Seven on one arm before dropping him back-first on one knee in a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker! Drew grabs Seven by the hair and throws him in the ring, then uses the top rope to climb up onto the apron and steps over the top rope before shrugging off his jacket and turning to the official.
DREW GALLOWAY
RING THE DAMN BELL!
The official does as he's told.
DING DING!
Seven crawls for the ropes and grabs the middle one, bracing himself as he tries to get to his vertical base. Drew stalks him like a terminator, grabbing him by the back of the head and pulling him to his feet before smashing him in the face with a closed fist. Seven reels into the corner, his nose busted and bleeding, as Drew pursues and throws a hard back elbow into the face, then another, then a third before lifting Seven up at the hip and carrying him to the middle of the ring, then dropping him with a sidewalk slam. Galloway hooks the leg.
1...
...NO! Seven kicks out!
Tom Phillips: Drew Galloway went for a quick finish to this contest with Trent Seven, who doesn't even have a UWF contract.
Corey Graves: This match is unsanctioned, but Galloway doesn't seem to care. He's eager to show his dominance over all challengers and Trent Seven is obviously just the latest in that line.
Galloway immediately rises to his feet, pulling Seven up with him with a firm grip on either side of the head. The big Scot then Biel throws Seven back into the corner he just brought him out of, and as Trent rebounds from the impact, staggering toward the middle of the ring, Galloway grounds him with a Glasgow Kiss! The fans boo as Drew smirks at his downed opponent, then hauls him back up and whips him into the corner opposite, pursuing and connecting with an ugly big boot to the face that hits hard enough it lifts Seven's boots off the apron. Drew clutches Seven in a belly-to-belly hold and then backs out of the corner before launching him overhead in a suplex that sees him land ugly. Galloway then follows through with an elbow drop before staying on for the cover.
1...
2...
...NO! Seven kicks out!
Galloway seems visibly annoyed now as he rolls out of the ring, leaving the downed Seven to nurse his wounds. The Scot heads over to timekeeping and grabs the starting bell. The timekeeper moves to stop him, but Drew shakes loose and then blasts him in the face with the bell, causing a loud DING! to echo across the arena!
Ranallo: Mamma mia! Drew Galloway just took out the timekeeper!
Phillips: That's a criminal offense!
Galloway enters the ring again just as Seven has laboured up to his feet and Trent charges, looking for a lariat out of desperation. Instead, Drew BLASTS him in the face with the bell! The official can do nothing; as an unsanctioned match, this clearly doesn't follow the usual rules. Seven crashes to the canvas bloodier than before. But Galloway simply pulls the Brit up, holding his limp body in a double underhook clutch and then spiking him skull-first onto the bell with the Future Shock DDT! The blow sounds another ring as Galloway pushes Seven onto his back and covers once again.
1...
2...
...3!
Here is your winner:
DREW GALLOWAY!
Graves: Another win for Drew Galloway!
Phillips: What an absolutely sick conclusion. That ring bell was completely unnecessary.
Ranallo: If nothing else, the Scottish Psychopath has shown why he is called such, and sent a clear message to his former tag partner in the process.
The Scottish Psychopath looks down at the bloodied Trent Seven with a smile on his face, then throws his head back in a victorious roar. His work finished, he exits the ring and returns to the back as medical personnel descend to tend to his ruined opponent.
The scene opens up with Sami backstage, both World Tag Team Championships over his arms.
Sami Zayn: Poor little Becky Lynch. She thought she could just come barging into my home and take what's mine from me? This whole time, I've been putting food on her table and she has the audacity to try and steal from me? I hope you saw what happened out there Seth. Becky was my best friend and I embarrassed her. Just think what's going to happen when you try to get in the ring with me. Plus Becky is a much tougher competitor than Seth Rollins. Maybe one day the Dynamic Duo will reign again when Becky apologizes to me because unlike people like Seth, I'm a forgiving man. Everyone is allowed to make mistakes. The only thing is you have to pay for your mistakes and trust me Seth, at Wrestlemania, you're going to pay. You really missed the boat by not competing here tonight because after Wrestlemania, you're going right back to sitting on the shelf.
Sami smiles and waves goodbye as the scene fades out.
That old, familiar, rough-around-the-edges guitar riff hits the PA, welcoming Mr. Kennedy back into a UWF arena for the first time in years. The brash superstar storms down the ramp, rudely chomping on a piece of gum with his mouth wide open. Yuck. An initial nostalgia pop quickly fizzles out when a kid reaching over the barricade to get a high-five finds himself on the receiving end up a flipped bird. All the boos coming in hot after that don't seem to bother the Loudmouth much, though. It certainly isn't anything new.
Ranallo: Earlier tonight, we saw Mr. Kennedy call out his old partner Hornswoggle, with the added stipulation that should he defeat the former Television Champion, he'll receive a new UWF contrast as well as a Wrestlemania match.
Phillips: Kennedy is clearly just jealous of Hornswoggle's success. The A-Hole never won a title during his time here during the early days of Revolution. This is sour grapes.
Graves: How is this even happening? This seems like the kind of thing Palmer Cannon should be shutting down.
Phillips: That's not his job.
Graves: You don't know that!
Kennedy scales the stairs, walks halfway across the apron and ducks through the ropes before taking a stance in the dead center of the squared circle. A single spotlight illuminates him there while the house lights cut out. From the rafters drops a microphone - the oldschool ring announcer kind. He snatches it out of the air and raises his free hand to call for a silence. Tony Chimel has already abandoned his post - there's only one person fit to make the introduction, and he does so with exceeding bravado...
Kennedy: And now, Ladies and gentlemen, the moment you've all been waiting for.... weighing in at two-hundred-and-forty-three pounds... hailing from Green Bay, Wiscooooooonsin...
He tilts back his head and shouts at the top of his lungs...
Missssttteeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeer Kennnnnnneddddddyyyy!
At one time, the audience was happy to scream it along with him. Tonight, though? Dead silence.
Kennnneeeeddddddyyyyyyyy
Mr. Kennedy lets go of the mic and its pulled back up towards the ceiling. He takes off his shirt and tosses into (at) the crowd before turning towards the ramp and calling out his former amigo.
Whatever the UWF Universe might think of Hornswoggle on the regular, tonight, he's welcomed with open arms. The lulling shanty blasting through the PA sees the fans swaying back in forth in time with the music, waving phones as though they were lighters as the shortest man on the roster stumbles down the ramp.
Phillips: Is he... is Hornswoggle drunk?
Graves: Seems to be.
Ranallo: Drunken boxing is an ancient and time-tested fighting style from the Far East. It's unorthodox, but when practiced correctly, very effective.
Swoggle reaches ringside, takes a look at the stairs with crossed-eyes, and after a deep breath, does his best to make his way up them. There's a concerning absence of balance, but after some trying, the man makes it into the ring.
Chimel: And his opponent... weighing in at 142 pounds... from Dublin, Ireland... HORNSWOGGLE!
A roar of cheers shower down from the crowd. The King accepts to adulation from his grateful subjects with a clumsy wave. Kennedy is all the more pissed off for it. The Referee is hesitant to start the match, given the inebriation of on contestant and the dubious legality of letting the other even compete. Mr. Kennedy insists on him calling for the bell under with a threat or two laced in, so the Official relents and sends it.
VS.
DING DING
No sooner does the athletic contest commence than Hornswoggle pulls a two-six of Jameson from his jacket pocket. He unscrews the cap and takes a hefty swig, scoring some big applause from the people. The Ref hurries over to confiscate the bottle. Swoggle feebly tries to snatch it back after its pried from his hands but is unsuccessful.
The Official turns around to dispatch of the liquor. Mr. Kennedy, sly son of a gun he is, takes advantage of that blind spot and goes on the attack. As he comes across the ring, though, he's greeted by a cloud of spewed alcohol from the mouth of Hornswoggle. Blinded by the searing mist, Kennedy clutches his eyes in agony. Swoggle then nails him with a low blow. The die-hard Packer's fan goes down like a sack of potatoes, writhing in all kinds of pain.
Graves: What the hell is going on! Do your job, Ref!
Ranallo: What did I tell you? It's all part of his game plan!
Phillips: Hornswoggle might be half in the bag, but he's still twice the wrestler Mr. Kennedy is.
When the Referee turns around, he sees Kennedy collapsed and groaning while Hornswoggle is stumbling towards the nearest turnbuckle. Rather than investigate the suspicious scenario further, the third man lets sleeping dogs like, hoping that this farce will just play itself out sooner rater than later.
With the full support of the sold-out crowd willing him on, the wasted Little Bastard somehow ascends to the top rope. He nearly falls off backwards but manages to course-correct before jumping off to connect with a Tadpole Splash! All one-hundred-and-forty-two pounds of him lands flush on Mr. Kennedy's abdomen, knocking the wind clear out of him. Swoggle just lays there to make a cover. The Ref moves in to count it...
1...
2...
3...
DING DING
YOUR WINNER...
HORNSWOGGLE!
The King has his hand raised while he proudly looks out at all the peasants cheering him on. It's time to celebrate. Hornswoggle pulls away from the Ref and heads out of the ring to find that Irish Whiskey and get back to work. Too many women sleep alone for the legendary ladies man to just be standing around waving and shit. He walks off into the crowd, looking to score.
Ranallo: Looks like Hornswoggle will be riding a hot hand into that ladder match at Wrestlemania!
Graves: I don't even know what we just saw. It defies explanation.
Phillip: Oh boy. Mr. Kennedy's calling for a microphone again. Just go back to Wisconsin already.
Mr. Kennedy finally gets the liquor out of his eyes and finds the strength to stand. Holding himself up on the ropes, he takes a moment to catch his breath before grabbing his signature mic as it drops from the ceiling on more time.
Kennedy: That was... that was... that was bullshit. You know it. I know it. He cheated. Hornswoggle cheated! It doesn't count. I want another match. I don't care who. Send anyone you want, Carter. Just don't send anyone you want back. I'll beat anyone on the planet if it means I get that contract!
Pulling himself away from the ropes, Ken tosses the mic and balls up his fists ready for a fight.
Kennedy, along with the fans, aren't sure what to make of the Wu-Tang classic playing through the speakers. At first, there are no hints or tells on the titantron, as it simply flickers from black to static while the kung-fu film sample sounds off. When the beat finally kicks in, all is made clear - the big screen is illuminated with a message...
THE RENAISSANCE
Samoa Joe walks out on the the stage, dressed in his wrestling gear, white towel draped around his neck. Punk is following just behind him, wearing his street clothes, not even bothering to tote his Intercontinental Championship.
Ranallo: It's Samoa Joe!
Graves: I should have guessed from his excellent taste in music.
Phillips: Is he even an active wrestler on the roster?
Graves: Is Ken Kennedy? Does it matter?
Joe stops at the apron and Punk gives him a quick shoulder rub like a proper corner man. The Samoan Submission Machine hands off the towel before climbing the apron and stepping into the ring. There's no bell - the Official has actually just high-tailed it out of there. Mr. Kennedy looks to catch Joe coming through the ropes but the big man just shoves him away.
Kennedy tumbles ass over tea kettle, landing awkwardly near the center of the squared circle. As he tries to get back to his feet, Samoa Joe chases him down with some surprising speed for a man of his size. He twists Kennedy around and slaps on a Coquina Clutch, squeezing the air out of him faster than you'd think is even possible. The Asshole's face goes from red to purple to blue in a matter of seconds. When his fingers stop prying at the forearm, his arms finally go limp and his eyes roll back into his head, Joe simply tosses his unconscious body aside.
Graves: Oh my God...
Phillips: We should probably get the medics out here...
The former International Champ turns to leave the ring without a second thought or glance back on his handiwork. He hops down to the floor, where Punk hands his towel back to him. It's unnecessary today - he didn't even break a sweat. Those Renaissance boys head back up the ramp to the peaceful quiet of a crowd stunned silent. A camera comes in for a close up and Punk addresses it on the way to the back.
Punk: This is just the start. Just the start. No more fucking around - it's time to get cultured, kids.
He pushes the lens away and trails Joe past the curtain and out of site. As EMT's rush out to cart Kennedy's body off, the show fades out.
END OF SHOW
Credits
Everything - Respective TTers
