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Latest OOC Retrospectives


Extreme Wrestling Corporation

Prime

EVENT AIRED: Mar 8, 2020

PRIME #52

SOURCE: https://ewcprez.proboards.com/thread/45015/prime-62-croatia-03-08?page=1&scrollTo=227877

LIVE •

























WARNING: This live event contains stunts performed by professionals or under the supervision of professionals and maybe unsuitable for younger viewers. Accordingly, EWC and its producers must insist that no one attempt to recreate or re-enact any stunt or activity performed in this live event.





















 
The Extreme Wrestling Corporation presents
PRIME
EPISODE #62
MARCH 8th 2020




LIVE! FROM JUG SPORT HALL in OSIJEK, CROATIA


EWC PRIME
Commentators: Micah Everett and Sandra Amsler
Announcer: Damon Reid
Senior Referee: Niklaus Forbes
Backstage Interviewer: Jenna Salvatore


 
 


While 'Could've Been Me' by The Struts blares over the loudspeakers at every locations, golden fireworks light up the sky in a display that shines brightly regardless of it is day or night. Brilliant blue spotlights swirl over the cheering crowds, whipping them up into a near-frenzy of excitement at the show to come.
 


Cameras flash all around the arena as the Mac-Tron cycles through Prime's roster. Jordan Freaking Sharpe, Killjoy Ito, Dominic Sanders, Nevaeh, Faith Rivers, Carlos Ruiz, Silver Ann Gold, Jonty Kelly, Aeon Khronos, Vanita Thompson, El Pablo, Richard Garcia, Quinn Collins and El Volando are all featured.

After one final pan over the crowd...

 


The camera centers on ringside at the Jug Sports Hall, where Micah Everett and Sandra Amsler sit. As soon as they notice the camera, both commentators smile.

Micah Everett: Stranglemania is just around the corner and tonight is our last stop on the way there 

Sandra Amsler: We have the Indy Champion in action, the number one contender to the TV Title is in action. 

Everett: And a number one contender match where Dominic Sanders cements his place as the number one contender to Jordan Sharpe's Indy Title at Stranglemania.

Amsler: That's IF he can beat former Indy Champion, El Pablo in our main event tonight. All that and a lot more coming up tonight. 

As the two commentators turn their attention back to their notes and begin to quietly discuss something, the picture fades to black and into silence. The pause holds and holds until it opens on a large television in a dark, empty room showing live footage from the inside of Jug Sports Hall where fans are beginning to settle into their seats ready for the show. The camera in the room moves to the right, revealing a leather gloved hand tapping the arm of a dark chair.

Unknown: So this is PRIME?

The voice is distorted, rough. The fingers stop drumming.

Unknown: I suppose it is time to review the competition.

It balls into a fist.

Unknown: Nothing like a good challenge, after all.

They unclench their hand and lazily wave it. The feed turns to black.

 




 
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MATCH #1
»SINGLES«
Alexander Daemon
Vs Stalker


--------------------
 

Everett: What a match we have to open Prime up tonight

Amsler: Alexander Daemon versus Stalker. These two clashed a few weeks ago and clearly nothing was settled. Tonight they are back to beat the shit out of each other again.

Everett: Well I'm not cleaning it.

Amsler: Cleaning ..... it's not real, it's metaphoric... let's go to the ring.

Reid: The following match is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, from Death Valley, weighing in at 220 pounds... ALEXANDER DAEMON!

Pyros hit and "Notorious" by Adelitas way begins to play and a few moments later Alexander Daemon slowly walks out onto the stage, he looks around at the crowd before making his way down the ramp, high fiving fans on the way. Once close to the ring he slides in quickly and gets to his feet and walks to the far corner and waits for his opponent(shortened version if writing a summary)

Reid: His opponent, from Salisbury, Maryland, weighing in at 328 pounds... STALKER!

"Rest In Peace" by Jim Johnston plays as Stalker walks to the ring through the smoke at his ankles
 
DING DING DING


As soon as the bell rings, Stalker lunges with a Right Hand that Daemon ducks before peppering Stalker with a series of Chops and Rights before Stalker blocks one and hits a Right of his own. Stalker grabs Deamons head and rams it into the corner turnbuckle before unloading on him with some Right Hands of his own. Stalker lifts Daemon for a Side Suplex but he rolls out of it. Daemon runs at Stalker and attempts a Flying Clothesline but Stalker ducks it and Daemon hits nothing but canvas. Getting right back to his feet Daemon charges at Stalker just as Stalker is charging at Daemon. Both men Clothesline each other. Neither man goes down but the wind is knocked out of them. Daemon gets his back first and runs at Stalker with a Cross Body. Stalker catches him and turns it into a Powerslam. Stalker lifts Daemon to his feet and hits a Right Hand and a Headbutt before whipping him into the corner so hard that he rebounds back out allowing Stalker to knock him down with a Clothesline.

Everett: Both men giving it everything here tonight

Amsler: That they are, but if we're to get a winner, one will have to break the other.

Everett: Break the other? This is getting volent.

Amsler: It may have to.

Stalker picks Daemon up of the mat but Daemon manages to Back Drop Stalker. Daemon then lifts Stalker to his feet before sending him back down with an Implant DDT. As Stalker gets to his feet, Daemon runs at him catching Stalker in the face with a running Knee Lift. Stalker doesn't go down so Daemon runs at him again but Stalker catches him with a Boss Man Slam. Stalker picks Daemon up and Bodyslams him before hitting an Elbow Drop to Deamon. Stalker picks him back up and lifts Daemon for a Suplex only for Daemon to counter it with a Sin Killer. Before Deamon can make a cover, Stalker rolls out of the ring. Demon walks over to the ropes and vaults over them crashing down on Stalker at ringside. Both men unload on each other with punches as the referee pleads with them to get back into the ring. Daemon slams Stalker head first into the barrier before Stalker does the same to him.

With no other option, the referee is back in the ring and he begins to count. Daemon runs at Stalker ramming him, spine first, into the turnbuckle post. Daemon punches at Stalker sending him staggering into the isleway. Daemon whips Stalker into the barrier but Stalker is able to Clothesline Daemon knocking him to the ground.

 
DING DING DING

Reid: The referee has counted both men out of the ring. A Double Count Out!

Everett: Both men brawling all the way to the back

Amsler: Nothing settled here. It'll either be settled in the parking lot or somewhere down the road.

Everett: I hope it's not too far down the road. I'm not that familiar with this area.

Amsler: I don't mean literally down the... Folks, don't you go too far either as we have Quinn Collins and Vivi clashing in this ring in just a few moments
 
 
 
MATCH #2
»SINGLES«
Quinn Collins
Vs Vivi


--------------------
 

Everett: Up next we have an exciting match between two rising stars of PRIME.

Amsler: The aggressive and tactical versus the unpredictable.

Everett: I predict that the unpredictable will happen tonight.

Reid: The following match is scheduled for ONE FALL...

Blue and gold lights fill the arena as "Mz Hyde" by Halestorm begins to play. The crowd begins to boo as Quinn Collins emerges, wearing blue and gold gear, a gold jacket and sunglasses. She stands in the middle of the spotlight on top of the entrance ramp and extends her arms out. As she does so, the words BAD BITCH appears on the titantron behind her[/font]

Reid Introducing, from Brooklyn, New York, weighing in at 125 pounds, she is The Bad Bitch From Brooklyn.....QUINN COLLINS

Quinn makes her way down the ramp and enters the ring. She briefly poses on the turnbuckle, before removing her sunglasses and tossing them into the crowd. Quinn then stands in the middle of the ring and pulls each side of her jacket open whilst also tilting her head back. She then completely removes her jacket and tosses it out of the ring, ready to fight. 

Everett: Quinn Collins is coming off of a loss to NEVAEH Quinn Collins is looking to turn her fortunes around against Vivi.

Amsler: She looks pumped.

Everett: But she is going to have to be on her best to keep up with Vivi.

Reid: His/her opponent, from All over the world., weighing in at 128 Lbs pounds... VIVI
 
DING DING DING

The two immediately tie up however being the unpredictable fighter Vivi takes advantage immediately. Quinn Colins finds some difficulty in the outset figuring out the moveset. Whenever Quinn attempts anything Vivi is able to counter it. This begins to frustrate Quinn as it seems that Vivi is relishing in this. After finally getting a headlock on Vivi it seems as though Quinn is finally going to take the match back before Vivi pushes her into the ropes and then hits her with a leg sweep. Vivi taunts Quinn by pointing at her own head to show how smarter she is. Quinn slaps the mat in frustration.

Everett: Quinn struggles to get her offense going against Vivi.

Amsler: If you don’t know what you’re going to do than how will your opponent?

Quinn gets a lot more aggressive and begins throwing low calf kicks followed by body kicks. Even when Vivi checks them or attempts to counter the pressure from Quinn backs her up into a corner. Quinn hits Vivi with a crunching body kick and then as Vivi is struggling out of the corner Quinn hits her with a side suplex. Now the more technical fighter has taken over the match.

Amsler: The Bad Bitch From Brooklyn has adapted perfectly for that herky jerky random style of Vivi.

Everett: It reminds me of what Terrance Cowherd did in his match against “Slippery” Joe Martinez back in 1998.

Amsler: Is any of that true?

Everett: And back to the action

Quinn keeps the pressure on Vivi who cannot seem to mount any offense as Quinn is able to keep her off her feet. Whenever Vivi gets a chance to get back up Quinn is able to knock her back down either with a kick or with something more powerful like a spear. Quinn sets Vivi up for a powebomb but Vivi countrs into a DDT. Quinn hits the ground hard. Vivi begins pumping the crowd up and indicating she is going to go for the Oh Hai! But Quinn does not rise. She is on the ground holding her neck in pain. The referee checks on her and the crowd grows silent. Vivi looks around unsure of what to do. She approaches Quinn to see if she is alright.

QUINN ROLLS HER UP!

The ref is confused for a second before counting.

1...



...2



...3!


Amsler: Oh that crafty bitch!

Everett: Vivi fell right for that. There is no love in this game.
 
DING DING DING

Reid: And your winner, via PINFALL.. "THE BAD BITCH FROM BROOKLYN” QUINN COLLINS!

Everett: And to really rub it in Quinn Collins is now doing the same tap the head taunt Vivi was using earlier in the match.

Amsler: Well she doesn’t call herself a bitch because she thinks it’s funny.

Everett: And as per usual my prediction of the unpredictable was correct.

Amsler: Well I have a prediction for you. I predict that we have some great action shortly. I predict that we have Nevaeh coming up next!
 
 
MATCH #3
»SINGLES«
Freddie Styles
Vs Nevaeh


--------------------


Everett: Our third match of the night is between Nevaeh who is looking to continue her momentum with a win against the returning Freddie Styles. I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but I think Styles doesn’t stand a chance against against the powerful and beautiful Nevaeh.

Amsler: If you were gushing even more, you’d be a damn puddle underneath the desk, Micah. Styles is back, he’s looking to make a big splash by beating a former Indy Champ.


With the lights focusing on the center of the ring, the camera cuts towards the ramp for the first competitor to make his entrance.

“Never need a bitch, I'm what a bitch need
Tryna find the one that can fix me
I've been dodging death in the six-speed
Amphetamine got my stummy feeling sickly
Yeah, I want it all now
I've been running through the pussy, need a dog pound
Hundred models getting faded in the compound
Trying to love me but they never get a pulse down”

As the song moves into the verse, Freddie steps out from behind the curtain as he just stands there in his hooded vest, hood over his head, bouncing from side to side, before making his slow walk towards the ring.


Reid: Making his way to the ring, he stands six feet and two inches tall and weighed in at two-hundred-twenty-five pounds… He is Mr. Ballgame, Freddie Styles!

The crowd lets out a cheer for the returning star, but Styles was cool and focused on the ring in front of him that he hadn’t stepped into for almost an entire year.

“Cause I'm heartless
And I'm back to my ways 'cause I'm heartless
All this money and this fame got me heartless
Low life for life 'cause I'm heartless
Said I'm heartless
Tryna be a better man but I'm heartless
Never be a wedding plan for the heartless
Low life for life 'cause I'm heartless”

Freddie slowly walks up the ring steps, and steps through the ropes. He then stands on the middle rope, holding one arm above him, before stepping down, and leaning over in a corner. He takes the hood from off his head, then takes the vest off completely, tossing it to the floor, awaiting the arrival of Nevaeh.


Amsler: Freddie Styles looks absolutely lit, fly, and everything on fleek. Like he’s never been gone in the first place.

Everett: I have no idea what puke just came out of your mouth…

"Gasoline" by Porcelain and the Tramps starts playing, and quickly Nevaeh comes walking out from the back to a chorus of boos. But judging by the smile on her face she doesn't seem to mind. As she makes her way down the aisle, Nevaeh does her best not to let anyone touch her long the way.

Reid: "Coming to the ring at this time from Las Vegas, Nevada, this is...NEEEEAVEAHHHHHH!"

After walking up on the ring apron, Nevaeh will strike a pose and give her backside a little shake before stepping between the ropes. Once inside, she'll mouth off to the fans and pace the ring a bit as she waits for the match to begin, and referee Smalls showed no hesitation by calling for the bell...
 
DING DING DING

Not needing a second to get settled, Freddie Styles removes himself from his corner at full speed as he nearly blindsides Nevaeh with a strike that ultimately hits her shoulder. The two of them start trading punches back and forth almost like they were two old foes ready to leave it all on the line, one hungry to keep winning, the other hungry to return with a win.

Eventually Styles’ weight advantage shows as Nevaeh is slowly pushed into the corner, forcing referee Smalls to come close and start a five-count to make Styles break up, which he promptly does. Trying to go back into action, Nevaeh was there with an elbow to his face that staggers him back, hitting him with a running bulldog and getting back up swiping back at his head with her boot whilst taunting the crowd to a chorus of boos.

Nevaeh continues throwing stomps, Styles slowly crawling to the rope to try and get a breather, but Nevaeh doesn’t let up putting his neck onto the bottom rope and putting her boot right onto his head and using the rope for extra leverage.

Referee smalls counts to four and a half, before Nevaeh finally lets up letting herself be admonished by the referee.


Everett: Beautiful and devious, absolutely gorgeous offense from a gorgeous competitor!

Amsler: Keep at it, horndog. I’ll just grab myself a bucket to puke in, before bashing your head in with it.

Styles was taking his time recovering as he clutched his hurting neck, and Nevaeh had enough of the lecture and chose to go back on the offense. But Styles was playing possum for just a second with his back turned, jumping and hitting a pele kick before rolling into a quick pin.

One…

Kickout!


Nevaeh doesn’t stay down long, but Styles was already up to his feet and flattens her with a standing moonsault, bouncing up to his feet and hitting the ropes and hitting a kneeling Nevaeh with a hangman’s neckbreaker.

The crowd is getting into it with a raucous cheer, and Styles was clearly feeling it too feeding off the energy in the arena.


Styles picks up Nevaeh, putting her in a suplex position, but his opponent fights back with punches to his sore neck that made his hold on her slip for just long enough to allow her to slip out back. But Styles doesn’t let himself get hit in the back of the head, speeding off towards the ropes and hitting it at full speed. Nevaeh was waiting, spinning and going for a spinning back fist!

But Styles slides himself through Nevaeh’s legs, springing up to his feet and hitting.

Ballgame-No!

The kick only misses by a few inches as Nevaeh dodges. Before Styles was fully back to his feet he got an eyeful of fingernails from Nevaeh getting blinded and not seeing the spinning back fist connecting the second time around causing him to fall down, allowing Nevaeh to pick Styles up and put her knee on his neck for the…

FALL FROM GRACE!

One!



Two!!!


Three!!!!

 
DING DING DING


Reid: Here’s your winner, She is NEVAEH!

The crowd boos as Nevaeh gets her arm raised above her head by Jessika Smalls, and she shows a cocky smile as Freddie Styles rolls out of the ring looking dejected at losing his return match.

Amsler: I hate to say this with you near, Everett, but Nevaeh looked good in her win tonight.

Everett: Sorry, hold on, can you say that again? I didn’t hear you correctly there.

Amsler: Oh shut up you knobpolisher, Styles still looked great and would’ve won any other day. And on that note, we’re going to commercial break before returning to you with even more Prime action!


We open up Backstage to the sound of a dull thud.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

The camera finds a large man and has to pan up to find where the thud is coming from.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

The camera finds Karzan Locke repeatedly thumping his head into the hard cement wall of the arena backstage. He stops and grinds his head into it for a moment before turning to the camera and locking eyes.


Karzan Locke In the beginning there was nothing but scorn and hatred. There was nothing but ridicule. The sun never shone and the rain never stopped. The mud was so thick men would die not ever being able to pull their feet free. It was truly a horrible time. A time that should have been forgotten. And then She came and She made it all good again.

Karzan Locke begins to dig at the indentation that his huge skull has made in the wall as he considerably sized skull.

Karzan Locke: And in return for this all She wanted was your devotion. She just wanted you to love Her like She loved you. But you forgot. You all forgot. So that’s why I’m here. I am going to make you remember. I will make you remember Fear. When I crush and skin and bleed and devour everyone on the Prime roster you might think it’s over and you’re safe but that’s not enough. Everyone will remember. All the way from the debuting superstars all the way to the top of the mountain. I am coming for everyone. And when you’re begging and pleading for your lives you will remember. You will remember, Mother.

Camera fades as Karzan Locke continues his unblinking stare directly into the camera.
 
 
MATCH #4
»SINGLES«
Jordan Sharpe
Vs Richard Garcia


--------------------
 


Everett: What a show it's been and what a match we have coming up.

Amsler: It's Richard Garcia versus Jordan Sharpe. One wants back in the title picture, the other will have one eye on tonight's main event.

Everett: If Jordan Sharpe fails to win here, it's going to be so easy for Dominic Sanders at Stranglemania.

Amsler: Sanders? Don't get a head of yourself, he's still got to get by El Pablo later tonight or he's not even going to Stranglemania!

Reid: The following match is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, residing in Toronto, Ontario, Canada and weighing in at 220 pounds... the EWC Indy Champion, JORDAN SHARPE!

ordan Sharpe comes out, wearing the newest JFS Officially Licensed T-Shirt. He heads down the ramp with gusto, with plenty of merch to pass out for the fans whether it be hats, shirts, tumblers, pop sockets. He hands them out to any kids, neckbeards or blonde girls that are almost always definitely over the age of 18. As he makes it to the ring, the fans chant 'NO!' after each 'You ain't ready' in his entrance music as he poses against the ropes or up on the turnbuckle. Preferably with a Championship or two.

Reid: His opponent, from Melbourne, Australia, weighing in at 213 pounds... RICHARD GARCIA!

'Live To Win' by Paul Stanley kicks in Richard Garcia bursts through the entrance curtains to an uproar from the crowd. The lights continue to flash in unison with the guitar riffs. Richard Garcia screams to the heavens above with excitement and then makes his way down the ramp, slapping the hands of the fans as he passes by.

Once Richard Garcia reaches the bottom of the ramp he rushes towards the ring and slides into the ring before climbing up to the nearest turnbuckle and spreading his arms out, eagle-winged and screaming in excitement.

Richard Garcia jumps off of the turnbuckle and pumps himself up

 
DING DING DING

Garcia fires a Superkick at Sharpe but he catches it and strikes Garcia with a European Uppercut followed by a series of Elbows. He shoots Garcia off the ropes only for Garcia to duck a Clothesline attempt and come back with a Wasted Sacrifice. Sharpe however, pushes Garcia away to counter it and drops Garcia to the canvas with a Clothesline. Sharpe picks up Garcia and hits a quick Snap Suplex. Sharp lifts Garcia and tries a Bodyslam into a Reverse DDT but Garcia counters with a knee to Sharpe's skull before grabbing a dazed Shape and hitting a T-Bone Suplex. Garcia waits as Sharpe uses the ropes to get back to his feet before grabbing Sharpe from behind for a Dragon Suplex but Sharpe slips out of it and rolls Garcia up for a cover. The referee counts.

1
.
.
.
.

2
.
Kick Out.

Garcia pushes Sharpe off him with near ease. Back to their feet Sharpe lashes out at Garcia with a punch. Garcia blocks it and lashes with one of his own that Sharpe ducks and follows up hitting a Cobra Clutch Backbreaker


Everett: Both men giving it everything here.

Amsler: Champion Sharpe has a slight advantage but can he keep it or will Garcia turn the tide.

Everett: I wonder if Dominic Sanders is watching this in the back?

Amsler: If you want to go to the back to find out, I won't stop you.

Everett: I'm needed here.

Garcia has rolled out of the ring and rubs his back with the back of his hand. Sharpe slides out of the ring right into a jab by Garcia who follows it up by whipping Sharpe into the ringside barriers and Bodyslams him on the floor before rolling him back into the ring. Garcia climbs to the top turnbuckle and waits as Sharpe slowly gets to his feet before flying at Sharpe hitting a Missile Dropkick. He makes a cover.

1
.
.
.
.

2
.
.
.
.

Kick Out!

Sharpe just gets his shoulder up. Out of frustration, Garcia stomps Sharpe before lifting him to his feet. He Irish Whips Sharpe into the corner but Sharpe counters it whipping Garcia into the corner. Spotting an opportunity, Sharpe runs at Garcia for a Freakin' Boot but Garcia moves at the last second and Sharpe gets his foot caught on the top turnbuckle. Garcia rubs his hands together in anticipation as Sharpe frees his foot. Garcia again attempts another Wasted Sacrifice. It is wasted after all as Sharpe manages to counter it with a Sharpeknife before making the cover.

1
.
.
.
.

2

.
.
.
.

3!

 
DING DING DING


Reid: And your winner, via pinfall... JORDAN SHARPE!

Everett: He won it! I'd have been better going to the back and watching this with Dominic Sanders.

Amsler: I did say. Just as Richard Garcia had this all sewn up, Jordan Sharpe found a way to get a win. Mark of a champion.

Everett: A mark is all that Dominic Sanders will leave come Stranglemania.

Amsler: He's not... I need a few minutes to calm down but don't you go far as we have a huge six man tag up next



The big screen inside the Jug Sports Hall flickers and then the Osijek fans explode into boos as the face of a smiling Tommy Love appears on the screen.

 


Amsler: What the hell is he doing here?

Everett: Tommy is back to save us!!!

Tommy mocks the fans, acting like he can’t hear the boos which just makes them boo louder

Tommy Love: Oh I’ve missed you all so much, I know I know, last week you watches as my son Buddy Love took Killjoy and marched off to the FSW and you thought, ‘oh damn, there is no more LOVE in Prime’ and you were right, with Buddy in the FSW and me up on the main roster with Gabriella it looked as if Prime was going to be LOVE-free and I knew how much that would hurt the people, the fans of Prime who have grown to love me and my son and I could feel the void this week, I watched from afar as Prime was...well it was flat…

The fans continue to boo

Everett: He’s exactly right, this place has been like a funeral all week

Amsler: It has not, it’s been great knowing we don’t have to deal with any of the Love nonsense and I have to say...it’s been nice!!!

Tommy Love: And as I watches I felt bad, you all have grown to love me and my son and we just ripped that love away from you but fear not, I am a LOVING man and out of the kindness of my own heart I made a few calls, I called in a few favores, I begged, pleaded and finally came to a deal that I think EVERYONE in Prime is going to enjoy and even thank me for, I think of these two like family, like brothers...we tore up the business back in the day and now...I TOMMY LOVE bring the most famous tag team in the business to Prime...without further ado I give you BOBBY ROSE….JIMMY LANE...THE SOUTHERN EXPRESS!!!!!

Everett: Wait, I thought they were dead

Amsler: You have to be kidding me...no way…

But ‘Stranglehold’ by Ted Nugent plays out



And the legendary duo of Bobby Rose and Jimmy Lane walk out onto the stage to a huge pop from the Croatian fans, the two men relish in the cheers as they look out over the crowd
 

Tommy Love: But they do not come alone, see I use to manage this team and under my leadership they became the most decorated tag team in this business but sadly I will be unable to be in their corner this time around...but fear not because there is always enough LOVE to go around…so allow me to introduce to you the young lady that will take my place at their side, my lovely DAUGHTER Bunny Love!!!!

Amsler: Dear god, there is another Love, how many idiot kids does this man have?

Everett: There is LOVE once again in Prime…

Bobby and Jimmy turn around as clap as a young lady in a black mask with bunny ears walks out onto the stage to boos, being the daughter of Tommy Love but once they see her the boos decrease a little
 

Tommy Love: Thanks to me, Prime will now be the home of the greatest tag team to EVER lace up a pair of boots…

Everett: But can they still, I mean look at them...their old men…

Amsler: Don’t be a agest, Bobby Rose and Jimmy Lane have still been working in the business, they have been all over England and Japan the last few year racking up wins and championships and everywhere they go the fans love them...more so because Tommy hasn’t been with them…

Everett: And he won’t be with them now, the majority of their success was with Tommy Love and now his daughter is just stepping in to replace him…

Everett: And by the looks of her she doesn’t have a clue what she’s doing out here.

Tommy Love: So get ready because at Prime #063 we are going to have a party unlike anything you’ve seen in years, boys...sweetheart...GIVE THEM HELL!!!

And with that the screen goes off and Tommy is gone, Bobby Rose and Jimmy Lane walk over to Bunny Love and the trio give the shaka sign before turning around and walking off stage.
 
 
MATCH #5
»SIX MAN TAG«
Karzan Locke, Colby Korver & Azazel
Vs Henry Rollins Porter, Martin O'Connor & Jeffrey Goldberg


--------------------
 


Everett: Well folks we’ve got ourselves a six man tag team match up next featuring some of the biggest superstars on the Prime roster out there.

Amsler: It’s going to be like a butcher’s freezer out there, Micah.

Everett: A... what?

Amsler: A lot of beef.

Everett: ... God I hate you.

Reid: The following match is scheduled for ONE FALL and is a six man tag team contest. Introducing team number one, first, weighing in at three hundred and fifty pounds... KARZAN LOCKE!

The lights in the arena turn off and after a moment they turn back on. Standing in one of the corners facing the crowd is the hulking mass of humanity, Karzan Locke. He stands motionless until the match begins.

Everett: Where in the hell did he come from?!

Amsler: His mother, I’d assume.

Everett: I don’t think he wants you talking about her.

The lights go out as the arena goes completely pitch black as “Rise (There Will Be Blood)” by Motograter begins to plays over the PA-System. As it does, red lights begins to flicker all around the arena and red smoke begins to emerge from underneath the ring. As this goes on, Azazel slowly begins to crawl from underneath the ring, slowly looking left and then right as he crawls forward, slowly making his way out from beneath the ring as he begins to rise to his feet.

Reid: Weighing in at Two Hundred and Seventy Pounds...He Is THE DEMON AZAZEL!

Azazel smirks as he turns to face the ring and quickly slides into the ring and once again begins to crawl, dragging his legs across the ring mat as he makes his way into the center of the ring, looking all around him as he slowly begins to rise, his music cutting and the lights returning to normal as the smoke discipates.

Everett: The Demon, looking to pick up where he left off when he defeated Henry Rollins Porter a month ago.

Amsler: He managed it in a singles match but can he do it again now Porter has his Company with him?

Reid: And their final partner, from Orlando, Florida, weighing in at two hundred and thirty-two pounds... COLBY KORVER!

“Gimme The Prize” by Queen plays as Colby Korver makes his way to the ring.

Everett: The highly impressive Colby Korver who has mixed it up with the likes of Jordan Sharpe and El Pablo in recent weeks and came close to beating them.

Amsler: He’s made it known he’s not happy about this match but it’s another chance to earn a win even with the odds stacked against them.

Everett: The odds are never against a man like Colby Korver.

Reid: And their opponents, THE PORTER COMPANY!

Police Sirens Howl loudly on the speakers as the sounds of a hot pursuit are heard: Police vehicles chasing a large black SUV take place on the MacTron. Bullets flying past from police guns and rapid gunshots from the SUV Passengers Uzi's are heard as they drive to the arena and speeding inside the Suv escapes before the cops can catch up

After which comes the Intro Music for The Porter Company.

Henry Porter, Martin O'Connor, Doc Psycho, Jeffrey Goldberg dressed in white dress shirts with black suspenders, pants, shoes and each smoking their Iconic large blunts walk out on stage and high five the crowd and as they walk the ramp real money, $100 bills begin to rain down on the crowd while each occupy a corner of the ring then entering one at a time.


Amsler: These three have been chomping at the bit to show what they can do as a unit so this will be fascinating to see.

Everett: Well at least they’ll be able to lose together for a change.
 
DING DING DING


Colby Korver demands to begin the match and squares up to the Porter Company’s Martin O’Connor. After some jaw-jacking they move to lock up but Korver ducks under the arm and taps his forehead in celebration. He turns around and his hoisted up and down with a press slam that sends him back into his corner. He winces, holding his back, and slaps the hand of Karzan Locke. The big man stares Korver down, causing him to slip out of the ring and demand he deals with O’Connor.

Amsler: I’m not so sure it’s a good idea to piss off Karzan Locke.

Everett: Colby Korver is full of good ideas – that’s why he’s having to lead these two freaks he’s with.

Locke enters the ring and is greeted by a chop to the chest that seems to bounce off him. O’Connor tries and second but seems perturbed by the lack of effect. Before he can react, Locke delivers a big boot that stumbles him into the ropes. He rushes O’Connor to close the gap but the veteran drops the top rope and sends Locke to the floor where he somehow lands on his feet. He turns around to see Jeffrey Goldberg leaping off the apron with a crossbody. Locke catches the smaller man with ease and throws him back-first into the barriers.

Everett: Locke just threw Goldberg like the sack of shit that he is!

While this was going on, O’Connor tags to Henry Rollins Porter who sneaks around the side of the ring while O’Connor distracts Locke. Porter catches Locke with a chop block that only just drops him to one knee before pushing the giant back into the ring. Locke immediately stands up looks uneasy as Porter begins to kick away at the knee. Locke pushes him away then grips Porter by the throat and pushes him into his team’s corner where he makes a quick tag to Azazel and The Demon goes to work with hard rights and lefts that quickly have Porter reeling.

Amsler: Porter’s in the bad part of town here, he needs to get out of there soon.

Everett: He’s used to being in the bad part of anywhere.

Azazel steps back and launches into the corner with a hard clothesline, then follows with a second, but as he backs up for a third Colby Korver makes the impromptu tag and enters the ring. Azazel watches on in anger as Korver hits a snap backdrop driver and scrambles over for the cover.


1...


2..


KICKOUT!


Amsler: Korver almost stole Azazel’s glory right there!

Everett: He almost sealed it, you mean! That big lug was wasting time instead of closing the deal.

Korver slaps the mat angrily and drags Porter back to his feet but is caught up in a small package!


1...


2...


KICKOUT!

Korver sits up wide-eyed and hurriedly gets to his feet and is met with a hard discus clothesline from Porter. The two head towards their corners where Porter tags in Jeffrey Goldberg who is still feeling the effects of the barrier. Korver looks at his tag partners and decides against the tag, instead being met by a dropkick form the onrushing Goldberg. O’Connor follows his partner into the ring by knocking Azazel and Locke off the apron. He lifts Korver up onto his shoulders as Goldberg climbs to the top but Locke pushes the high-flier off the ropes and to the floor. O’Connor is incensed but before he can react Korver manages to free himself, landing behind the lumberjack, and pushes him into the corner where he hits the turnbuckle chest first. Locke tags himself in and immediately turns his attention to Goldberg on the floor. He throws him through the ropes and climbs back into the ring where O’Connor had just thrown Korver to the outside. Locke immediately crushes O’Connor with a clothesline that has him rolling to the floor. Goldberg is quickly up to his feet and stuns Locke with a jawbreaker. He jumps up to the top rope, leaping off with a missile dropkick that sends Locke reeling back into the ropes.


Amsler: He’s got the giant on the ropes – quite literally!

Everett: There’s no way they’re going to be able to beat this guy. No way!

Goldberg makes the tag to Porter and the two immediately begin to beat down Locke with clubbing blows and kicks. The giant is looking weakened but he still manages to push the pair away and collapses towards his corner where Azazel tags himself in and he quickly enters the ring. He swings a spinning heel kick at Goldberg but it’s easily ducked under and Azazel is met with a Thesz press from Porter and several punches to the face. Porter motions to the outside where O’Connor has recovered and the Company reunites in the middle of the ring over The Demon. Without a word they scrape Azazel from the canvas and lift him up with a TRIPLE POWERBOMB! Porter hooks the leg for the pin.


1...


2...


3!

 
DING DING DING


Reid: And your winners, via pinfall... THE PORTER COMPANY!

Everett: Why did Karzan Locke tag out? He had this!

Amsler: Regardless of that, the Porter Company have come away with a big victory here tonight. They’ve shown they mean serious business as a unit.

Everett: I guess. It was against three guys who have never worked together before though...

Amsler: You can’t pick and choose when a win matters.

Everett: Well I can and I did. With that in mind, let’s head to a commercial break but don’t go anywhere folks because up next it’s two former Television Champions in direct competition. You won’t want to miss it.




The lights go out as 'Imaginary' by Evanescence begins to play. The lights flash in time to the guitar riff. The song kicks into its first verse as smoke billows from behind the curtains and a spotlight shined down upon the center of the stage. When the chorus kicks in the lights come back on and out walks Lavender with the Television Championship resting on her shoulder. She looks out across the crowd as the crowd erupts into cheer. A smile creeps across her face as she embraces their warm welcome. Lavender then looks down at the Television Championship, still amazed at the fact that she was now a champion.

Amsler: A fortnight ago Lavender stepped up to challenge Jonty Kelly for the Television Championship and after a gruelling match she managed to walk out as the new champion.

Everett: It is easy to win one match, the hard part is maintaining that momentum and keeping the chamionship over your shoulder. The Television Champion always needs to be on their toes, ready to defend. Keeping the championship is much harder than winning it.

Lavender begins to make her way down to the ring. As Lavender reaches ringside she walks over to the steel steps, walks up them and enters the ring before climbing the nearest turnbuckle and holding her arms up high in the air, the Television Championship clutched in one hand. Lavender steps down from the turnbuckle and asks for a microphone. Once she has been handed a microphone she steps into the middle of the ring as the crowd begins to chant 'you deserve it!'. Lavender soaks in their adulation for a moment before bringing the microphone up to her lips.

Lavender: Oh, thank you. It is still so bizarre to me to be standing here, finally a champion. My journey started in Rampage where I had a rocky start, but I had challenged for championships and each and every time I had come so close, yet so far. The championship match a fortnight ago had blind-sided me, I didn't expect to have been placed into a championship match so early into the season, but I was and I wanted to take full advantage of it. And that's exactly what I did, I became Television Champion.

Lavender: But winning the Television Championship is only half the battle. At any given moment I may have to defend this championship and everything I have worked so hard for will all be on the line. However, I am up for the challenge. I am not here to duck challengers, bring them all on. Bring on Jonty Kelly, Faith Rivers and anyone else who feels like they can step up to the plate and swing for the nose-bleed seats. I want to be a fighting champion. I want to be a memorable champion. This championship has a history of ripping people's dreams right out from underneath them before they can truly appreciate it, I don't want to be one of those people.

Lavender: Thank you for your praise. It feels great to be your Television Champion.

Lavender drops the microphone and lifts the Television Championship high above her head as the crowd cheers.

Everett: YUCK! Please. Enough of that sappy nonsense. Lavender isn't going to get very far by pandering to this audience.

Amsler: She isn't pandering, she is merely excited about being a champion.

Everett: All of that could go up in flames if given the chance. She needs to be prepared for any and all challengers at any given moment.
 
 
MATCH #6
»SINGLES«
Faith Rivers
Vs Jonty Kelly


--------------------
 

Everett: What a match we have coming up. Jonty Kelly versus Faith Rivers

Amsler: We were a hair from having this match for the TV Title at Stranglemania however Jonty lost the title on our last Prime.

Everett: What we have tonight is one wanting to gain momentum going into the TV Title match while the other wants to get back in contention for the TV Title himself.

Amsler: It's not like you. No quip? No? Let's get to the match before you change your mind

As "Legendary" by Skillet begins to play throughout the arena, we hear the opening lyrics.

Legendary
Oh!
Legendary

Oh!
Oh oh oh, oh oh oh, oh oh oh
Oh!
Oh oh oh, oh oh oh, oh oh oh

By now, Faith Rivers has made her way out from the back and is pumping up the crowd to her song as she makes her way down the aisle.


Reid: The following match is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, from Miami Florida and weighing in at 135 pounds... FAITH RIVERS!

After sliding in under the bottom rope, Faith gets to her feet and continues to work the crowd as she walks to the center of the ring where she spins in a circle before unfastening the championship from her waist and holding it up for all to see. As she does this, pyros go off in each corner. From there, Faith hands the title over to the referee and retreats to her side of the ring as waits for the match to begin.

Reid: Her opponent, from Melbourne, Australia, he weighs in at 225 pounds, he is THE LETHAL WEAPON.....JONTY KELLY!

The sound of a bullet being fired echoes through the arena, before Heavy is the Head begins to play. Smoke begins to fill the top of the entrance ramp. Eventually, Kelly bursts through the smoke, wearing a mouth mask with a bullet between teeth design on it. He stops at the top of the entrance ramp, makes a two finger gun on each hand and fires a shot into the crowd on either side of him. As he does so, pyro goes off on either side of him

After making his way down the entrance ramp, Kelly enters the ring and immediately jumps on a turnbuckle and poses, holding up four fingers in his right hand and a two finger gun pointed downward in his left hand. Kelly then climbs down and takes off his mouth mask, ready to fight.

 
DING DING DING


Jonty charges at Faith who catches him with a Drop Toe Hold that sends him face first into the turnbuckle. Faith laughs at this which angers Jonty. He charges at her but she ducked him sending him off the opposite ropes. On his way back, Faith tried to leapfrog Jonty but he caught Faith with a Spinebuster. With Faith down on the canvas, Jonty grabs her foot and applies an Ankle Lock but Faith quickly reaches the ropes. Jonty waits for Fith to get to her feet before charging at her with a Spear. Faith ducks at the last second and Jonty goes sailing over her and crashes to the canvas. As Jonty picks himself off the canvas, he doesn't see Faith run at him with a Tornado DDT. Faith charges at Jonty for a Spear but he Back Drops her but Faith is able to shift her weight in mid air before pushing Jonty against the ropes rolling him up with an O'Connor Roll. The referee counts

1
.
.
.
.

2
.
.

Kick out.

Jonty pushes Faith off him. Faith turns to face Jonty but he kicks her in the shin causing her to fall forward hitting her face on Jonty's knee. Faith staggers as she clutches her jaw allowing Jonty to hit a Snap Suplex. Jonty lifts Faith off the canvas and before he has a chance to hit anything, Faith quickly hits Jonty with a series of Right Hands before sending him off the ropes. Faith shoots off the opposite ropes running at Jonty for a Spear. He tries to hit her with a Spear at the same time. They clatter into each other in the centre of the ring and crash to the canvas.


Everett: Both are down. A malfunction at the junction if you will.

Amsler: Great minds thinking alike there as both attempt a Spear but neither hitting it.

Everett: Great minds? More like two unseparatable dumb asses.

Amsler: This what you do when you can't pick a winner, hate on both?

Both slowly pick themselves up of the canvas. Jonty fires a Superkick at Faith who catches it and spins Jonty around hitting a Clothesline. This sends Jonty off the ropes and Faith jumps as he rebounds looking for a Hurricanrana but Jonty counters it with a Powerbomb. Faith is hurt but has enough to roll over onto her side. Jonty grabs her hair and drags her to her feet before catching Faith with a Superkick. With Faith down, Jonty climbs to the top turnbuckle just as he gets to the top, Faith gets to her feet. From the top turnbuckle, Jonty kicks Faith and flies at her hitting a Missile Dropkick. Instead of making a cover he waits for Faith to get to her feet and spins looking for a JK 47 that Faith manages to duck before hitting a Faithful. She makes the cover.

1
.
.
.
.

2
.
.
.
.

3!

 
DING DING DING


Reid: And your winner, via pinfall... FAITH RIVERS!

Everett: With that, Faith Rivers gains some momentum going into Stranglemania.

Amsler: That she does. Jonty Kelly came very close but he wasn't able to hit the move he needed to to win it.

Everett: Alright, you've made your point! Can we go to the ads now before you mention how the woman won on International Woman's Day?

Amsler: As you've already brought it up, I don't have to. However, we do till have to go to the ads, but do't go far as we have the big Number One Contenders match coming up



The feed is thrown into darkness once more. After a long, pregnant pause, we again see the large television showing the inside of Jug Sports Hall. The gloved hand places a half-filled tumbler on a small table beside the chair. The ice clinks.

Unknown: Not bad. Not bad at all.

The hand opens up, palm facing upward.

Unknown: There is much work to be done but there is promise. Potential. Hope for the future.

The television shows a match graphic for the main event. The hand clenches into a fist.

Unknown: For some, at least.

The fist shakes, the force of it rising, until it is released and the camera is waved away, sending the scene into black.
 
»SINGLES«
#1 Contenders Match for the Indy Title at Stranglemania


Dominic Sanders
Vs El Pablo




Everett: We have made it to the final match of the show, and we got a big one in store as we will have the former undisputed champion Dominic Sanders mowing through a final speedbump on his way to challenge for another belt in his trophy case.

Amsler: That guy you call a speedbump is a pretty big fuckin’ deal Everett, because unlike your mancrush Sanders, El Pablo already had his hands on the indy title before, and he’s looking to do it again at Stranglemania. And the former undisputed champion will find out that chasing the indy title is as tough as it comes.

The lights go out in the arena. Purple pyrotechnics burst up on the stage and down the sides of the ramp heading towards the ring. "War Machine" by KISS begins playing. Dominic Sanders steps out from the back with a dark purple hoodie, and black wrestling tights on, finished off by white boots. The hood of his sweatshirt drapes over his eyes as he stares out at the fans. Suddenly, Cora Whittaker appears from behind the curtain with a purple dress and purple streaks in her hair. Sanders and Cora stand at the top of the ramp and listen to a moderately mixed reaction from the crowd.

Reid: Introducing first... from Fort Worth, Texas. Weighing in at two hundred and seventy pounds and being accompanied by Cora Whittaker... DOMINIIIIC SAAAAANDEEERS!

Dominic beats his chest with both fists and raises his arms in the air with a roar. The crowd reacts even louder as he starts to make his way down to the ring. A cocky grin can be seen under the hood of his sweatshirt as he walks down the ramp hand-in-hand with Cora at his side.

Sanders rolls underneath the bottom rope and into the ring. He jumps up to his feet and stares out into the crowd underneath the hood of his sweatshirt. Cora joins him at his side. He grins and nods his head as he moves over to the corner and waits as "War Machine" fades out and Cora exits the ring.


Everett: It takes special skill by this Croatian crowd to not give a warm welcome to a bonafide future hall of famer in Sanders, but they’ve managed to impress in their ignorance.

Amsler: Easy there boomer, Croatia is just getting hyped up for the real star to arrive.

Searchlights scan across the stage and over the raucous crowd as ‘Party Hard’ by Andrew WK begins to blare from the speakers. The driving guitar sets a tone of frenetic energy and excitement before giving way to a simple, repeating piano chord as the MacTron displays the following message:[/font]



As the main riff kicks in, El Pablo bursts out through the curtain, tossing a palmful of Skittles into the air. His masked head hides beneath the hood of his self-promoting sleeveless sweatshirt, though a beaming grin is still plainly visible as the Technicolour Tecnico bounces down the ramp towards the ring, bantering and fist-bumping members of the crowd as he goes.

Reid: “Forged in the Talavera Tiles of Puebla City, Mexico… Hardened in the desert sands of Farmington, New Mexico and weighing in at 180lbs...He is the Technicolour Tecnico, and the Leader of the Rainbowlution… ELLLLL PABLOOOOOOOOOO!!!

With his last couple of steps, EP's bouncing turns into a run, as he slides under the bottom rope into the ring. He pops to his feet, then hops over to one of the far corners of the ring, ascending the turnbuckles and tossing another helping of Skittles out into the crowd. After some more gesticulating, EP charges across the ring and repeats on the opposite side, before finally handing his hoodie over to a member of the ring crew and taking up position ready for the match to begin.

With both contenders staring lasers at each other, senior referee Niklaus Forbes calls for the bell to be rung!

 
DING DING DING


Circling each other, the two competitors drowned out the noise from a filled out arena and merely sought to scope the other out, trying to find a single weakness they might exploit at a later point in the match.

After half a minute of getting around the ring, Dominic Sanders is the first to break the dance by extending his arm in a clear invitation for a lockup with the smaller speedster El Pablo. The speedsters reacts the same way, extending his opposite arm to meet the fingers of Sanders.

The moment fingers are locked, Sanders quickly flexes his power by pushing the luchadore straight into the mat, and after a short struggle he drops him to his shoulders and Forbes taps the mat for not even a one count as Pablo alternates which shoulder he removes from the mat.

Bridging himself, Pablo wiggles free and back onto one knee, removing one vice grip hand with a kick to the wrist before doing a standing somersault, extending it into a kick to the inside of Sanders’ leg and smoothly throwing himself towards the mat and throwing Sanders into the ropes with an arm drag to gain a small victory in winning the test of strength. The crowd letting out a chair at the early showcase of technical skills.


Amsler: Not what I shitting expected, but Pablo shows he’s got the brains and the agility advantage.

Everett: Doing fancy flips won’t get you a win.

Amsler: What a hot take, did your mother think that one up for you?

Feeling confident by the crowd’s support of him, Pablo smiled and returned the earlier offer by now being the own to offer his hand in a test of strength. And after cracking his knuckles, Sanders seems to accept the offer again.

Locking fingers, Sanders suddenly chose not to lock the other hand and instead throw a fast and hard kick to the gut of Pablo dropping the Speedster to his knees. Sanders keeps his hand locked though, and with the other flips his opponent off before showing off his strength by pulling Pablo back to his feet like he weighed nothing, throwing him into the ropes, and on the return hitting him with a devastating clothesline that turns Pablo inside out.

With a flex to the crowd, Sanders soaks up the boos at his lack of sportsmanship. Eventually turning around and picking Pablo back up before throwing him at the turnbuckle with as much power that he can get out of his 270 pound frame, causing Pablo to clatter painfully into the turnbuckle before getting a big boot to the chin in the follow up.


Everett: There’s no bean burrito in Mexico that could give someone All-American power like Dominic Sanders!

Pablo, despite two big moves, didn’t seem like he was interested in staying down for long though as he found the ropes and used it as leverage to get himself to a standing base. Turning around and seeing Sanders already converge back onto his location with dangerous intent.

Pablo doesn’t wait for the next hits and chooses to go on the attack, hitting sharp and harsh kicks to the calf muscles of Sanders hoping that it would go a long way in making the bigger man’s base shakier. Feeling energy rush back, Pablo shows his extreme speed by hitting the opposite ropes and dodging a sloppy counter clothesline by baseball sliding through Sanders’ legs and out of the ring, dazzling further by flying onto the apron and towards the opposite turnbuckle.

Sanders reacts quickly enough to prevent Pablo to try a move from the top turnbuckle, but Pablo leaps over Sanders and rolls to safety, turning around and seeing Sanders bearing towards him with deceptive speed for a man of his size.

But Pablo is one step quicker, dodging another clothesline, and countering into a sitoutfacebreaker, before moving into a standing Spanish fly that puts his opponent’s face into the mat. Like an exploding spring, Pablo kips up and is immediately back at full speed, bouncing off the ropes and hitting a headscissors DDT onto a kneeling Sanders.

Pablo was not ready there, like a live wire he continues making it hard for the crowd to even follow all his moves, and before they were any wiser Pablo flips himself over the top rope onto the apron, waiting for Sanders to get back to his feet with his back turned, leaping off the top rope…

”Furry Ninja Strike!”

The kick lands clean against the back of Sanders’ head and he falls right back to the mat, apparently out cold as El Pablo darts in for the pin!




ONE!









TWO!!!










KICKOUT!!!



Sanders proceeds to throw the luchadore off him with all his power. Making clear he wasn’t going to lose that quickly, or at all.


Amsler: I think that idiot Forbes might’ve been dazzled by Pablo, because that felt very slow!

The Luchadore didn’t take the near fall as a reason to become disheartened, and immediately moved around looking to make his next spectacular move happen against Sanders. Flying in and locking the man’s right leg into the Tijuana Crabcake! cranking back on the leg he had been kicking earlier.

Sanders gritted teeth, even the bigger man struggled as he tried to remove himself out of this predicament. The crowd clapped, but not for Sanders to get out, hoping instead that he’d tap out as quickly as possible.

Knowing Sanders was in trouble, Cora Whittaker started stirring at ringside, moving around the ring, and starting to yell at both the referee and El Pablo to get them distracted, but the tecnico knew better than to let go.

Referee Forbes got up to admonish Whittaker, though, and Sanders seemed seconds from tapping out before Pablo lets go in frustration, going to admonish the referee himself for not watching him nearly tap out a former undisputed champion.

Sanders slowly stirred in all the commotion, and Whittaker gets off the apron with a final wink at the referee just as Sanders hits a rough low blow to the nethers of his foe, causing him to fall right over, the referee completely oblivious.


Amsler: Sanders fondling Pablo’s balls like a pro there, what a pathetic showing from your mancrush, Everett…

Sanders didn’t care about the boos, and rolled Pablo out onto the apron, not content to try and pin him there, he had bigger plans as he moved onto the top turnbuckle and looked at Pablo being ready to get his execution.

”Titletown!”

An utterly disgusting guillotine legdrop connects with the head and throat of the Mexican dazzler, and Sanders smiles at his handiwork as he rolled into the ring and went for the pin…


”One!!!!”








”TWO!!!!!”








”THRRRRR-KICKOUT!!!!!!!!”


The crowd lets out an absolute rapturous cheer as El Pablo refuses to keep his shoulders down and escapes a loss at an absolute hair’s width.

Sanders slaps the mat in frustration, staring daggers at the referee in frustration.


Everett: Sanders has a right to be angry, Forbes was completely out of position and wasted at least three seconds to start the count!

Amsler: Cool story bro, nobody cares about you or Sanders’ pity party.

Calming down again, Sanders knew that he needed to continue dominating, and with El Pablo still on his back trying to recover from the guillotine, he had the perfect chance to continue his dominance and work towards the killing blow that would get him the win.

Throwing hard stomps, he made sure to pile on all the punishment before deciding to pick him back up from the mat. With Pablo on a standing base, a few knees to the gut where thrown, and finally he positioned him into a t-bone position ready to take Pablo to Funky Town!

”But wait!”

But the move doesn’t hit as Pablo magically recovers in mid air and hits the ropes enough to nullify the hurt. Sanders turned around expecting Pablo to be hurt, but to his shock he was completely fine and even taunting the bigger man that his t-bone suplex had done nothing at all.

Pablo didn’t wait for Sanders to come at him, and instead came right at Sanders with a head full of speed, dodging one clothesline, rebounding off the ropes and dodging a second… a third… a fourth… before Sanders seemed to get tired of swinging and immediately stepped back as Pablo continued running the ropes constantly even without Sanders there.

With every rebound the crowd cheered louder and louder, as Sanders put his hands on his hips and put himself in the turnbuckle waiting for Pablo to run himself ragged.

The luchadore’s eyes lit up for just a split second, and he stopped dead in his tracks. Turning to face Sanders and going full speed from a standstill, taking the man by surprise by leaping over him onto the top turnbuckle, leaping back off, hitting a dropkick that sent Sanders staggering back into the turnbuckle, before using all his speed and grace to fly onto the top rope like an acrobat and hitting

Five star express!

Sanders keels over backwards as Pablo’s boot connects to his face!


Pablo hears the crowd cheer for him, and with Sanders looking up at the stars, he knows that this was his moment to take home the victory and walk towards Stranglemania as the #1 contender.

Feeling his second wind, he flies onto the apron, and sprints straight to the top of the turnbuckle, amping up the crowd for just a second to get them all onto their feet before signalling for the end.


”Rainbowlutions per mi---nooo!”


Nobody is home and El Pablo spins back first into the mat where a Sanders had recovered just in time to get into prime position to put Pablo onto his shoulders, not going the route of amping anyone in the crowd and instead focusing on hitting…


”Riptiii-WAIT!”


Riptide was not happening because Pablo was wiggling free, and eventually the leg of Sanders buckling long enough for him to lose his balance, allowing Pablo to counter with…


”TASTE THE RAINBO----NO!!!”


Sanders blocks the attempt at the frankensteiner by stumblerushing backfirst into the turnbuckle flattening any attempt of flattening him. Resetting his hold onto El Pablo and gritting his teeth long enough to finally hit…


”RIPTIDE!”


ONE!!!















TWO!!!!

















THREEEEEEE!!!!!





 
DING DING DING



Reid: Here’s your winner, and the new number one contender to the EWC Indy Championship, Dominic Sanders!


The crowd can’t help but let out a roaring cheer, not because Sanders is the winner, but because they just experienced an epic match worthy of the price of admission.

Sanders lets out a roar in celebration as Cora Whittaker joins him in celebration, cynically kicking his slain foe out of the ring claiming it for the two of them to celebrate going to Stranglemania for a shot at the Indy Championship


Everett: That was a spectacular match for the ages for sure, and All-American talent ends up superior over shoddy Mexican workmanship

Amsler: Oh shut up you shit covered dipstick, Sanders won this, yeah. But any other day, he’d be counting stars.

The victory celebration is cut short as "You Ain't Ready" by Skillet blares over the speakers and the one and only Indy Champion, Jordan Freaking Sharpe, appears on the stage, Championship in hand.

JFS: Well I guess it was unavoidable, wasn't it Sanders? I'm not usually the type to come out here like this, truth is I'd rather let my matches do my talking for me, but for the love of god the last thing these people want to sit through is a victory jerk off session from Dominic Sanders!

The crowd goes nuts as Sharpe chuckles to himself.

JFS: It's you and me at StrangleMania then, is it? I'm sure you already have that victory celebration all planned out too, don't you Sanders. Cocky prick. I'm gonna tell you right here, right now. This is not going to be as easy as you think. I don't give a damn who it is because I've never had my StrangleMania moment yet and I plan on doing that at YOUR expense. For ME, for these PEOPLE and for all of the FUCKING INDIES!

Sharpe smiles as they chant 'JFS! JFS! JFS!'

JFS: Dominic Sanders, I'm about to cancel you once and for all. And when I do that at StrangleMania, when I kick the ever living SHIT out of you, remember nothing gets shit stains out of ya drawers like TIDE.

He tosses the microphone in the air, leaving Sanders seething as his music hits again.

 
 


 
END SCREEN











 
 

..................................................................................................................


SEGMENT WRITERS

Karzan  Locke
Killjoy Ito 
Lavender

Jordan Sharpe


 
 
..................................................................................................................


MATCH WRITERS

MATCH ONE
WRITER: Prime

MATCH TWO
WRITER: Karzan Locke

MATCH THREE
WRITER: Aiden O'Sheahan

MATCH FOUR
WRITER: Prime

MATCH FIVE
WRITER: Joseph Hall

MATCH SIX
WRITER: Prime

MATCH SEVEN
WRITER: Aiden O'Sheahan



..................................................................................................................


RECAP OF WINNERS

SINGLES MATCH
Alexander Deamon Vs Stalker
WINNER(S): DRAW
...

SINGLES MATCH
Quinn Collins Vs Vivi
WINNER: Quinn Collins 

...

SINGLES MATCH 
Nevaeh Vs Freddie Styles
WINNER: Nevaeh 

...

SINGLES MATCH 
Jordan Sharpe Vs Richard Garcia
WINNER: Jordan Sharpe

...

SIX MAN TAG MATCH 
Henry Rollins Porter, Jeffrey Goldberg & Martin O'Connor
Vs Karzan Locke, Colby Korver & Azazel
WINNERS: Henry Rollins Porter, Jeffrey Goldberg & Martin O'Connor

...

SINGLES MATCH 
Faith Rivers Vs Jonty Kelly 
WINNER: Faith Rivers

...

NUMBER ONE CONTENDERS MATCH
Dominic Sanders Vs El Pablo
WINNER: Dominic Sanders

...


...............................................................................................................…


MVP OF THE NIGHT: Dominic Sanders
MATCH OF THE NIGHT: Dominic Sanders Vs El Pablo


 
 
© THE EXTREME WRESTLING CORPORATION 2020

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