Post by Steven Brody, CEO on Sept 27, 2018 8:33:34 GMT -8
The show opens in silence as an image of Vlad Blackheart hoisting up his first Heavyweight Championship appears on the screen. Beneath it, the text reads:
~In Loving Memory Of Vlad Blackheart~
~Jan. 14, 1975 - May 5, 2016~
After the image fades away, the sound of Saliva's "Ladies And Gentlemen" is heard as the tournament logo explodes onto the screen and we hear the announcer's thunderous voice list the B Block competitors.
As the camera cuts to the ringside area, showing the amped up crowd, Nick Hanson and James Reynolds welcome those in attendance, in addition to those watching via NFW's streaming network.
Reynolds: "WHOOOOOOO!!! IT'S THAT TIME AGAIN, NICKY!!!"
Hanson: "INDEED, JIM! WELCOME, EVERYONE! NICK HANSON HERE, WITH JAMES REYNOLDS! IT'S DAY FOUR OF THE VLAD BLACKHEART MEMORIAL TOURNAMENT! LET'S NOT WASTE ANYTIME! WHO'S IN THE MOOD FOR SOME APPETIZERS BEFORE THE MAIN COURSE? IT'S TIME FOR SOME TAG TEAM ACTION!!"
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The Renegades team of Julian Morrison and Serena Frost defeated The Great White North's El Piso Mojado and Kennedy Campbell by submission in 11:56 when Frost made Campbell tap out with the Fujiwara Armbar.
After the bell, Serena held onto Kennedy's arm for several seconds until the referee was finally able to force her to release the hold.
Hanson: "This girl is sick, Jim. Sick!"
Reynolds: "Well...that makes her a perfect fit for the Renegades, doesn't it?"
Hanson: "Tch...you're not wrong there. It wouldn't hurt her or any of them to have a little more class, for God's sake."
Reynolds: "Well, you know what they say, Nicky. Want in one hand and---"
Hanson: "Yeah yeah yeah, I know, Jim. You know, you could benefit from a little more class, too."
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[9/26/2018 - DAY 3 - A BLOCK]
Teddy Morse and Chase Evans come walking, briskly, through the curtain from the arena. We can hear "Cheatham County" by Ryan Upchurch booming out around ringisde.
"Now THAT'S what I'm talkin' about, baby!!" Teddy Morse says loudly. He's clearly in a much better mood than he was the last time we saw the Rebel Rousers. "That's how it's done!! Ain't that right, brother?!"
"Damn straight, man." Chase Evans says, smiling yet more composed as he fist bumps his tag partner. "See? I told you. All we had to do was sit back and rework our strategy and we ain't no-one to scoff at!"
"Whoa whoa, hold up." Teddy stopped and raised a hand to silence Chase.
"What?" Chase stopped and looked down at Teddy, confused.
"You mean we ain't no-one to spit at." Teddy said, in a correcting tone.
Chase made a humorous, confused face. "Wha...? Nah, man. The term's 'no-one to scoff at', ya know? Like pfft! Like that."
Teddy shook his head, waving his hands. "Yeah, yeah, but if you doubt someone, if you have no respect for 'em, you spit on 'em, right? Big ol' wad o'chew in yer gum and ya just 'ptooey!'"
Chase puts a hand up to his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Teddy, not everyone spits Copenhagen at people. That's just you."
Teddy's eyes go wide with surprise as he looks between Chase and the reporters. "Y'mean I innovated somethin'?!"
"What? No! I--" Chase runs his hands down his face. "Jesus H. Christ, boy, how did you make it passed middle school?"
"Ohhhhhhhh no!" Teddy says, folding his arms across his chest and shaking his head defiantly. "I ain't one o'them dumbasses who goes and brags about shit. That's how all them hot teachers get slapped with lawsuits! No sir! Ain't doin' it!" With that said, Teddy walks off camera, leaving Chase completely bewildered.
"Whoa, hold the hell up! What?! Get back here! I gotta hear this!" He calls after him, following the man out of frame. "Teddy!"
We hear hurried footsteps then before Teddy Morse suddenly leans back into frame, his face right up in the camera with a silly grin on his face. "Y'all have a good evenin', y'hear? HEEEEEEEELLLLL YEEEEEEEAAAAAAH!!!!!" He hollers before ducking off screen again.
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Shelton Benjamin and Morgan defeated Ryan Steele and Candi Broduer by pinfall in 13:20 when, while Morgan and Ryan were the legal members in the ring, Morgan refused to tag back out to Shelton despite Steele clearly having an upper hand on her. Instead, she writhed on the floor, struggling to get back up.
Finally, Shelton had obviously had enough of seeing Steele toy with one of his best friend's daughter and entered the ring to interject. As the referee rushed over to order Shelton back out, Candi Broduer hopped down off of the apron and threw a chair into the ring. Ryan Steele picked it up with a taunting smile to the crowd.
Hanson: "Aw, no! He's not gonna! That's a woman, goddamn it!"
Reynolds: "It's a mixed tag match, Nicky!"
Hanson: "But it's not a No DQ!! Someone get that chair away from him!!"
When Shelton was finally back out of the ring and in his and Morgan's corner, the referee turned around and caught Ryan Steele holding the chair. Referee James Greer immediately wrestled it from Ryan's hands and began yelling at him for attempting to use it. As he tossed the chair out of the ring, he stepped towards the Renegade's corner and began scolding Candi who acted completely innocent to the fact, despite Referee Greer yelling, "I know it was you! Get back up on the apron!"
As Candi and the referee argued, Ryan Steele stepped towards him, yelling to the ref and trying to back Candi's false claim up. There, from behind, Morgan Payne crawled forward and nailed Ryan with a forearm between the legs!!
Hanson: "OH!!!! LOW BLOW!!! A LOW BLOW FROM MORGAN PAYNE!!"
Reynolds: "WAIT A SECOND!!! SHE CAN'T DO THAT!!"
Hanson: "SHE JUST DID, JIM!!!!"
Finally, Morgan Payne quickly forced herself to her feet and pulled Ryan back towards her. With a gutteral, enraged shriek, she hoisted the two hundred plus pound man onto her shoulders - SEETHING with anger - as the crowd went wild, roaring and jumping to their feet. Candi Broduer, then, attempted to notify the referee of the low blow while Shelton Benjamin slapped the turnbuckle, grinning from ear to ear and hysterically cheering his surrogate niece on.
Reynolds: "NICKY, MY GOD, LOOK AT THE POWER OF THIS GIRL!"
Hanson: "THAT LITTLE GIRL SQUATS 300, JIM!!! THIS IS ALMOST NOTHING TO HER!!!!!"
Reynolds: "WHAT THE HELL?! SHE'S NOT GONNA...IS SHE GONNA...?!"
Hanson: "I THINK SHE IS, JIM!!"
With another, angry scream, Morgan Payne drove Ryan Steele down with a painfully angled Dahntahn After Dark that reverberated through the mat with a loud *SLAM*
Crowd: "OHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!"
Hanson: "THERE'S THE COVER!!! TURN AROUND REF!!!"
Just in time, Referee James Greer turned his attention back to the match and hurried down beside Morgan and Ryan, slapping out the count. 1...2...3!!
Being helped to her feet by Shelton, Morgan beat a fist against her chest and stood over Ryan Steele as he laid on the mat.
"FUCK YOU, YOU SON OF A BITCH!!!!"
High fiving, fist bumping and hugging, Shelton Benjamin and Morgan Payne exited the ring as Battle Beast's cover of "Push It To The Limit" rocked the arena. Upon reaching the stage, Morgan turned around and stretched out her cut off, Scarface-style "Bad Bitch" t-shirt and shouted down towards the ring;
"JOU WANNA WAR, MENG?! I TAKE JOU TO FUCKIN' WAR!!" Before pumping her fist to her music as a play to the crowd and followed Shelton back through the curtain.
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Nico and Adrianna Salvatore defeated Alex Brody and Chris Jericho by pinfall in 16:22 when Nico delivered a sickening GFY to Jericho.
While Adrianna approached Alex and Jericho to offer a respectful fist bump, Nico promptly threw the referee's hand off of him as he tried to raise his arm and slid out of the ring, storming towards the back, already starting to pull the tape off of his hands.
"Nico!" Adrianna called after her brother. Even she looked a little taken aback. Nonetheless, Nico never halted in his pace as he tossed the bunched up tape to the floor and flung the curtain aside, disappearing.
Hanson: " Well this is...awkward...."
Reynolds: "Ya think?"
Looking just a little embarrassed, Adrianna gave Alex another fist bump before sliding out of the ring and jogging up the ramp to catch up with her brother.
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[9/27/2018 - DAY 3 - A BLOCK]
*Rick Dickulous backs through the curtain, still waving at fans. He turns and walks towards the backstage post match interview backdrop, the camera panning to follow his movement*
"Matt, guy? I said it before, and I'll say it again, buddy, people better keep their eye on you! That was one of the best matches I've had, eh? I mean, you almost had me a couple of times, friend..."
*Rick points and nods to someone off camera. A towel flies into Rick's face, completely missing his hand. El Piso Mojado can be heard laughing in the background. Rick smiles and shakes his head, laughing as he wipes sweat off his face*
"Piso, I've got some Bruce Banner in my secret box, guy! When I'm done here we'll go light a small controlled fire in the dressing room while we watch the rest of these matches, eh?"
*Rick looks into the camera*
"I'm really looking forward to Shelly and Zack Sabre Jr. Gives me a chance to prepare for next week and my match with Shelton. I promised him a match for my Silver Mountain Championship, I said this with Ron MacLean. I promised him a match for it, and he hasn't taken me up on it, eh?"
"It's all good, Shelton-guy, even though our next block match doesn't have a cool special stipulation to it, it's still a match! I mean, obviously I want to win, that's the whole point. It's like when I played hockey as a kid and we'd travel to Buffalo or Livonia, Michigan, or wherever for a tournament. If you don't win, you go home...and I'm not going home, guy!"
*Rick nods*
"Shelton, buddy, let's get it on like Donkey Kong!"
*A voice mutters off screen as Rick looks off camera*
"I'm sorry? What was that, guy? W-waitasec, that was racist? How could you say that's racist?"
*Again, the voice mutters unintelligibly from off screen. Rick's jaw drops, mouth agape as he looks back into the camera*
"Oh shit, Shelton, guy! My bad, bro! I swear I didn't mean it like that at all, buddy! I'm so sorry! Like, if I meant it, I'd be all like: *Rick puts on a fake angry face* HA! Sorry, not sorry!" *Rick drops the mean face*
"Jesus Christ on a motorbike, guy! I'm really sorry! Let's just go out there and put on the match that tops the highlight reels...one of those good, old fashioned slobberknockers, eh? I saw a bunch of your MMA fights, and that's what we need to bring out of you. That will make our block match one of the best of the block...if not, of the whole damned thing, buddy!"
"I gotta go. Piso and I have a date with Rita MacNeil."
*Rick walks off as the shot fades*
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Cutting back to ringside, the staff and security appear to be just finishing on cleaning up from the previous match and preparing for the tournament matches to begin. As they do, we are greeted by Hanson and Reynolds again.
Hanson: "Alright, Jim." *We hear him clap his hands* "Show time! B Block! You ready?"
Reynolds: "As I'll ever be! Give us the scoop so far."
Hanson: "Alright, with two points so far, we have: Scott Leroux, Kenny Omega, EVIL, Judas Lasher and Minoru Suzuki. Big Daddy Payne, William Mannheim, Tama Tonga, Andrew Payne and Curry Man have yet to earn any points. Once again, just like last night's A Block event, that's definitely going to change for a few individuals, starting with our first block match of the night and it starts...right now...."
As Hanson finished his words, the opening build up to "Guerrilla Tactics" came through the speakers. Accompanying Tama Tonga to the ring was his brother, Tanga Loa, rocking his jungle camo pants and a Firing Squad jersey. As they entered the ring, Tanga approached the announcer.
"Entering the ring, at this time---" Before the ring announcer could finish, Tanga SNATCHED the mic out of his hand and pie faced him so hard, he fell back on his ass and rolled out of the ring. Stepping back towards the center of the ring, Tanga stuck his arm out and dramatically leaned forward, going low as he brought the microphone up to his mouth, very much in mockery of a certain "electrifying man in sports entertainment."
"Llllllllladies and gentlemen....." Tanga began, cocking his head to the side and looking into the camera where he pushes one eyebrow up with his middle finger. "Bitch ass hoes.....and fllllllamin' doritos...."
Dropping the impersonation, he straightens up his stance, going back to his own mannerisms. "At this time, I bring to YOU...the man about to put NFW's "Punisher"...at 0 and 2. About to leave that ass dead in a ditch...just like when he Gun Stunned...that skank ass bitch!"
The crowd jeered as Tanga grinned with his tongue between his teeth, turning to "too sweet" Tama.
Hanson: "Oh for the love of...."
"He steps into this ring and shows his genius...and with the ladies, he's uhh...quite the 'cunning linguist.'" Tanga Loa smirks, winking at the camera. "Reppin' the TRUE BC as one of it's original 'fathas'.... I give you my 'brotha'...THE BAD BOY....TAMA....TONGAAAAAAAAA!!!!" Tanga Loa tosses the mic at the announcer's feet, forcing him to bend over and pick it up, before giving his brother daps as the opening chords of Lamb of God's "The Duke" sound over the arena's speaker system, signaling the entrance of Andrew Payne.
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The bell sounded, literally, seconds after Andrew Payne entered the ring, due to the fact that halfway down the walkway, he went from his purposeful walk into a full on sprint the rest of the way, sliding into the ring and coming right at Tama Tonga. By the time the bell did ring to start the match, they were already several shots into a brutal exchange of punches. Fists flew back and forth before Tama Tonga faked Payne out and thumbed him in the eye.
Hanson: "Aw, c'mon! Bastard!"
Seizing the opportunity, Tama Tonga nailed Pittsburgh's Punisher with some heavy forearms across the back of the neck, threw him the double bird and came off the ropes to capitalize. To the delight of the crowd, Andrew countered at the last second, hoisting Tama up, around 180* and flattened him in the center of the ring with a Spinebuster that would have made Arn Anderson proud. Finally having a moment to remove his entrance gear, Andrew Payne got to his feet and ripped his t-shirt off with one hand, throwing it over the ropes at Tanga Loa and gave the middle finger of his own before turning back to Tama Tonga.
After a pretty back and forth matchup that was reminiscent of a highly anticipated brawl, Tama Tonga evaded an attempt at Andrew Payne trying to hit the Faded Line by hitting a last second basement dropkick to his knee with the black and yellow brace on it. Tama Tonga followed up with an attempt at the Gun Stun but Andrew Payne pushed him forward into the ropes and, when Tama rebounded, Payne caught him into a German Suplex that left both of them prone on the mat. Tama Tonga was the first, however, to begin getting to his feet as Andrew clutched at his knee, grimacing in pain. Tama looked over at Payne with a look in his eyes like a shark who smelled blood in the water, calling out to Tanga.
Hanson: "What the hell's he doing?"
Hanson asked as Tanga stormed over to the time keeper, shouting "Get'cho ass up!!! Move, bitch!!" And threw the man out of his seat, snatching up the chair and folding it with a loud metallic *SNAP*.
Hanson: "What the hell?!"
Reynolds: "Is he out of his mind?! He's gonna get his brother disqualified!"
Hanson: "Yeah, and then he'll be banned from ever stepping foot inside an NFW arena, again!!"
As Tanga approached the ring, closest to where his brother was, he laughed mockingly, taunting the ref. "Fuck you, bitch! Whatchu gon' do?! WHATCHU GON' DO?!"
As the referee tried to get passed Tama Tonga to handle Tanga Loa, who was just about to throw the chair into the ring, the crowd and announce team alike were caught off guard when a large man with a shaved head, dressed in a black dress shirt, slacks, clean dress shoes and a yellow tie, climbed quickly over the barricade and charged right over to Tanga Loa, beginning to lay into him with vicious lefts and rights. Tanga Loa dropped the chair and began fighting back to the best of his ability, but given he was taken off guard, he could only do so much as this unknown, 300+ pound man completely took it to Tanga.
Hanson: "Who the hell is this guy?!"
Reynolds: "I don't know, Nicky!"
Hanson: "My god, it looks like a disgruntled fan has jumped the barricade and...Jim, he is taking it to Tanga Loa!"
Reynolds: "This guy doesn't look like a fan, Nicky! He looks like someone who's coming to remind Tanga Loa he owes the mob money!"
Hanson: "Look at the size of this guy!"
The crowd continued to roar as the unknown attacker irish whipped Tanga Loa into - no, THROUGH - the barricade!
Reynolds: "DAMN!!!"
Hanson: "OH MY GOD, JIM!!!"
With Tama Tonga distracted, trying to get passed the ref and out of the ring to help his brother, Andrew Payne seized the opportunity and got back to his feet.
Hanson: "Wait, back in the ring, Jim! Payne's back up!"
He whipped Tama around and delivered a stiff thrust kick to the gut, grabbing him by his head on his shoulder and dropped down, delivering a vicious stunner.
Hanson: "ART OF RUIN FROM THE PUNISHER!!"
Tama Tonga snapped up, staggering back and turning in a 180 where Payne grabbed him around the waist, lifted him up and brought him down with a thunderous 11th Hour before hooking the leg. Hearing the sound of the impact, the referee turned around and dropped down to make the count, ending the match with Andrew Payne as the winner at 13:09. Immediately after, the referee slid out of the ring and ran over to try and get the big man attacking Tanga Loa back as he laid stomp after stomp on the member of G.O.D. At the sound of "The Duke" playing over the speakers, however, the man stopped on his own and turned towards the ring. Pushing passed the referee, the man walked up the steps and entered the ring where he walked over and exchanged a few casual words with Andrew Payne. Payne nodded and dabbed with the man.
Hanson: "Wait a second, what's this?"
Reynolds: "What in the world?"
Hanson: "Does Andrew Payne know this man?"
As Tama Tonga scrambled to recover from the 11th Hour, the big man in black motioned for Payne to step back and give him room. Then, he grabbed Tama Tonga by the face, delivering a brutal Iron Claw Slam in the middle of the ring.
Hanson: "WOW!!!!"
Finally, Andrew Payne and the man in black exited the ring, leaving ringside together up the ramp.
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[9/26/2018 - DAY 3 - A BLOCK]
With the crowd still amped up from watching the match between Max LeBrun and Buzzsaw, Max came stumbling through the curtain, absolutely beaten and battered, clutching his ribs. Through all of this, he chuckled, grinning coldly.
"Heh...haha...Buzzsaw?" He said, as he leaned back against the promotional backdrop as the camera crew zoomed in; the champion sliding down the backdrop and sitting on the floor, wincing in absolute pain as he rested the Heavyweight title belt in his lap. "I told you...I wasn't gonna let you beat me.... I told you...we were gonna tear it up...." He laughed, wincing from just that as he clutched his ribs with one arm and held the back of his neck with the other hand. "Agh! But you brought it...I'll give you that. You fucking brought it. Now, I didn't beat you either...not officially, anyway...but...a point is a point...and I know it's gotta be eating you up inside. The guy who's been knocking people out, the guy who's been choking people out left and right since you stepped back into this company...." He shook his head. "...But you couldn't beat me.... You have to settle for the draw...and that inkling...nagging realization in the back of your head, that I...am your equal. I can survive *anything* that you try and throw at me and that's why THIS...." He let go of his neck and lifted the Heavyweight Championship up, "...that's why I have this.... But, that's done and over with. *We* are done and over with. So let that sink in for as long as you need to...."
He lowered the belt back into his lap and leaned his head back against the backdrop. "We move on next week...and Ibushi? You'd better believe that I've got you in my sights. I've already got your number. I've paid attention to your work for *years!* And frankly? I'm a little anxious for our match...I'm looking forward to it. Because I'm gonna kick your teeth down the back of your throat for thinking you can just waltz in here and fight for a shot at the NFW Heavyweight Title -- *MY* NFW Heavyweight Title!" He sat up and thumbed to himself with a seething look of disgust on his face. "A free agent who has no allegience to whatever company that writes him a check to come put on a match for them! This is *my* territory! This is the Renegade's territory! You?" He shook his head and grinned wickedly. "You call yourself the Golden Star. Well...when you and I face off next week? I'll be happy to add Starkiller to my list of aliases...." Raising his fist up in front of the camera, Max pulled the pin, and pulled himself to his feet, shaking off a backstage attendant who tried to help him. "Get off me!" He snapped, grinning at the camera then. "Seeya, next week, in Queens...Golden Star...." And made his way towards the locker rooms.
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EVIL defeated Curry Man in their block match, by pinfall, after an electric 15:28 bout by hitting him with Everything Is Evil.
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After a brutal, nostalgic match that was reminiscent of old school NFW, Judas Lasher defeated Big Daddy Payne in their block match, by pinfall in 12:01 after rolling to the side during a Bukakke Blast attempt, leaping up, and snapping Payne down with the Lucifer's Halo.
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William Mannheim defeated Minoru Suzuki in their block match, by pinfall in 9:32 after a brutal, triple powerbomb.
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[9/26/2018 - DAY 3 - A BLOCK]
With the sound of I Prevail's "Come And Get It" blasting out in the arena, Kane came storming through the curtain, growling under his breath as he approached the promotional backdrop, only to go right passed it, completely ignoring the interviewers who hastily backed away from him in utter terror....
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Fading in from white, Nico Salvatore emerged through the curtain, following his speech in the ring as he pulled his hand tape off. Again, he said nothing after he stopped in front of the camera. He simply stepped up to the lens with that same, cold sneer on his face and raised up one hand -- this time, with two fingers held up. Afterwards, he walked away from the interviewers, heading down the hall towards the locker rooms....
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Kenny Omega defeated Scott Leroux in their block match, by pinfall in 18:53. After Omega managed to reach the ropes while Leroux had him in the Ankle Lock on his previously injured ankle for over a minute, Leroux pulled him back by the tights, starting to set him up for a last ditch German Suplex. As he took that one second to take a quick breath, however, Omega seized the moment and dropped down, lifting the Tapout King up onto his shoulders. Nearly stumbling from the weight of another human being due to his ankle, Kenny followed up quick and drove Scott Leroux down with the One Winged Angel, allowing him to make the cover.
As "Devil's Sky" erupted through the speakers, Kenny Omega and Scott Leroux looked towards each other - Kenny on his knees, Scott sitting up, both men exhausted. A rising cheer came from the crowd, then, as Kenny Omega slowly extended a fist out towards his opponent. Slowly grinning with a nod, Scott Leroux returned the fist bump to the delight of the entire arena.
Hanson: "Alright!! Yes!!!"
Reynolds: "Now *THAT* is awesome!"
After helping Kenny Omega to his feet, Scott Leroux joined the referee in raising the man's arm, despite being, obviously, unhappy about the outcome. Afterwards, he patted Kenny on the back on his way out of the ring, calling for the crowd to pay respect to the man.
Back inside the ring, Kenny Omega accepted the microphone from the ring announcer as his music slowly faded out to allow him to speak. Looking around the crowd, after having doused his head with water as he usually did after a hard match, he slowly lifted the microphone up.
"Anata ni wa shoj---" He began before stopping himself, lowering the mic and scanning the crowd with a hand hovering over his eyes. He lowered his hand and brought the mic back up. "Sorry, I forgot where I was for a second." This earned a laugh from the crowd. Kenny lowered his head, and lifted a hand, begging to continue. "But, really...in all seriousness. I have to be honest. When we first came here -- myself, Nick and Matt -- we did come here with ill intentions." A buzz moved through the crowd. Kenny closed his eyes and nodded, almost ashamed to admit it. "We heard that Harold Meij -- our new company president -- we heard about the partnership that he and Commissioner Steven Brody signed between New Frontier Wrestling and New Japan...and our first thoughts were "what...the HELL...is he thinking? Who the hell...are these idiots that we're supposed to work with?" He made a disgusted, albeit humorous face as he shrugged, shaking his head. "These guys are supposedly on our level? They're the 'New Japan of the United States'?! Bull...shit!"
A louder commotion arose from the crowd but Kenny asked for silence, raising his finger. "But!! But...that...was the bullshit part. Our mindset...our thought process...our opinion of the roster here...." He said, pointing towards the back. "*That*...was bullshit. In just the few matches that we've had here against NFW superstars, we have come to the conclusion that Harold Meij's decision to sign that partnership was...well, as another company that I won't exactly name, would say...best...for business." He grinned, winking at the camera. "Hey, quick shout out to Luke, Karl and Devitt. We miss you boys. Aaaaanyway! Moving on, before I get sidetracked again!" Another chuckle from the crowd as Kenny turned serious again. "I stay with New Japan Pro Wrestling...because that's where the competition is at. That's where the drive is at. That's where you'll find some of the greatest professional wrestlers in the entire world! And now? I can honestly say that you can find more of the best *right here!*" He said, pointing down at the ring he was standing in. "And trust me...I've had people come up to me and they talk about the similarities. The 'copycat' tactics. But I don't see that. Is this tournament similar to a certain event we've been holding for over a decade now? Even more?" He looked around, nodding. "True. True. But...the difference with NFW is, the honor that you can feel in this tournament. The respect. Not just for tradition, not just for the determination and the fighting spirit of the wrestlers. I mean, we have that too. But I know what *this* tournament means to a lot of the guys in the back. A lot of the guys competing in this event. And I won't lie; I love wrestling. You all probably know that. I love wrestling, I love winning and I love championships. Do I fully intend to be your first Vlad Blackheart Memorial winner? Oh yeah, you know it. I've said it over and over already. But believe me when I say that it is a privilege to compete...to give my all...to lay everything I've got out in this ring to do so. And I'm honored to do it in matches like the one you just saw. The ones that you've been seeing for this passed week. Guys like the McKeesport Mafia...guys like William Mannheim...his son Rick Dickulous -- hey, odd name but that guy kicks...some...ASS!!"
He paused, giving the crowd a moment to pop, before continuing. "Guys like Scott Leroux!" He pointed towards the back. "Guys like Judas Lasher...who scares the shit out of me, by the way." The crowd laughed. "I'm serious! But he's a competitor. They are *all* competitors. So, I'm not gonna stand here and beat a dead horse about how I've got seven more matches to go, seven more people to beat. Instead, I wanna say that as someone who lives, breathes and bleeds New Japan Pro Wrestling, I fully support the partnership with the New Frontier and on behalf of the rest of the boys back there who have stuck by me through even the darkest times - Nick...Matt...Hangman...Chase...Kota...Yujiro - on behalf of them, I want to end this by saying we are looking forward to working with this company for the forseeable future. On that note, arigatogozaimashita. Watashitachi wa futatabi anata ni aimasu...." He paused and grinned at the crowd. "I know you guys wanted to hear more of that."
The crowd laughed, as Kenny raised his hand in the shape of a gun. "Brooklyn! It's been a pleasure! GOOD--BYE!!!" He said, leaning his head back towards the ceiling and brought his finger up to his lips. "MmmmmmWUAH!!!" And pointed it out beside him. "And good...night!! BANG!!!!" Dropping the mic, Kenny Omega kissed both hands, raising them out towards the crowd before exiting the ring and making his way up the ramp as "Devil's Sky" resumed.
Hanson: "Well there ya have it, folks!"
Reynolds: "Hey, an endorsement from New Japan's Best Bout Machine? I ain't gonna knock it!"
Hanson: "I don't think anyone in their right mind would, Jim. Ladies and gentlemen, we hope you enjoyed tonight's event and we look forward to having you join us next week when the Vlad Blackheart Memorial continues in the Carnesecca Arena! We're going to Queens, Jimmy!"
Reynolds: "Hey, my favorite actor's from Queens!"
Hanson: "Really?"
Reynolds: "Yeah, you know.... His name...is Christopher.... Christopher Walken."
Hanson: "Horrible impersonation. Good night, ladies and gentlemen!"
~In Loving Memory Of Vlad Blackheart~
~Jan. 14, 1975 - May 5, 2016~
After the image fades away, the sound of Saliva's "Ladies And Gentlemen" is heard as the tournament logo explodes onto the screen and we hear the announcer's thunderous voice list the B Block competitors.
As the camera cuts to the ringside area, showing the amped up crowd, Nick Hanson and James Reynolds welcome those in attendance, in addition to those watching via NFW's streaming network.
Reynolds: "WHOOOOOOO!!! IT'S THAT TIME AGAIN, NICKY!!!"
Hanson: "INDEED, JIM! WELCOME, EVERYONE! NICK HANSON HERE, WITH JAMES REYNOLDS! IT'S DAY FOUR OF THE VLAD BLACKHEART MEMORIAL TOURNAMENT! LET'S NOT WASTE ANYTIME! WHO'S IN THE MOOD FOR SOME APPETIZERS BEFORE THE MAIN COURSE? IT'S TIME FOR SOME TAG TEAM ACTION!!"
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The Renegades team of Julian Morrison and Serena Frost defeated The Great White North's El Piso Mojado and Kennedy Campbell by submission in 11:56 when Frost made Campbell tap out with the Fujiwara Armbar.
After the bell, Serena held onto Kennedy's arm for several seconds until the referee was finally able to force her to release the hold.
Hanson: "This girl is sick, Jim. Sick!"
Reynolds: "Well...that makes her a perfect fit for the Renegades, doesn't it?"
Hanson: "Tch...you're not wrong there. It wouldn't hurt her or any of them to have a little more class, for God's sake."
Reynolds: "Well, you know what they say, Nicky. Want in one hand and---"
Hanson: "Yeah yeah yeah, I know, Jim. You know, you could benefit from a little more class, too."
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[9/26/2018 - DAY 3 - A BLOCK]
Teddy Morse and Chase Evans come walking, briskly, through the curtain from the arena. We can hear "Cheatham County" by Ryan Upchurch booming out around ringisde.
"Now THAT'S what I'm talkin' about, baby!!" Teddy Morse says loudly. He's clearly in a much better mood than he was the last time we saw the Rebel Rousers. "That's how it's done!! Ain't that right, brother?!"
"Damn straight, man." Chase Evans says, smiling yet more composed as he fist bumps his tag partner. "See? I told you. All we had to do was sit back and rework our strategy and we ain't no-one to scoff at!"
"Whoa whoa, hold up." Teddy stopped and raised a hand to silence Chase.
"What?" Chase stopped and looked down at Teddy, confused.
"You mean we ain't no-one to spit at." Teddy said, in a correcting tone.
Chase made a humorous, confused face. "Wha...? Nah, man. The term's 'no-one to scoff at', ya know? Like pfft! Like that."
Teddy shook his head, waving his hands. "Yeah, yeah, but if you doubt someone, if you have no respect for 'em, you spit on 'em, right? Big ol' wad o'chew in yer gum and ya just 'ptooey!'"
Chase puts a hand up to his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Teddy, not everyone spits Copenhagen at people. That's just you."
Teddy's eyes go wide with surprise as he looks between Chase and the reporters. "Y'mean I innovated somethin'?!"
"What? No! I--" Chase runs his hands down his face. "Jesus H. Christ, boy, how did you make it passed middle school?"
"Ohhhhhhhh no!" Teddy says, folding his arms across his chest and shaking his head defiantly. "I ain't one o'them dumbasses who goes and brags about shit. That's how all them hot teachers get slapped with lawsuits! No sir! Ain't doin' it!" With that said, Teddy walks off camera, leaving Chase completely bewildered.
"Whoa, hold the hell up! What?! Get back here! I gotta hear this!" He calls after him, following the man out of frame. "Teddy!"
We hear hurried footsteps then before Teddy Morse suddenly leans back into frame, his face right up in the camera with a silly grin on his face. "Y'all have a good evenin', y'hear? HEEEEEEEELLLLL YEEEEEEEAAAAAAH!!!!!" He hollers before ducking off screen again.
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Shelton Benjamin and Morgan defeated Ryan Steele and Candi Broduer by pinfall in 13:20 when, while Morgan and Ryan were the legal members in the ring, Morgan refused to tag back out to Shelton despite Steele clearly having an upper hand on her. Instead, she writhed on the floor, struggling to get back up.
Finally, Shelton had obviously had enough of seeing Steele toy with one of his best friend's daughter and entered the ring to interject. As the referee rushed over to order Shelton back out, Candi Broduer hopped down off of the apron and threw a chair into the ring. Ryan Steele picked it up with a taunting smile to the crowd.
Hanson: "Aw, no! He's not gonna! That's a woman, goddamn it!"
Reynolds: "It's a mixed tag match, Nicky!"
Hanson: "But it's not a No DQ!! Someone get that chair away from him!!"
When Shelton was finally back out of the ring and in his and Morgan's corner, the referee turned around and caught Ryan Steele holding the chair. Referee James Greer immediately wrestled it from Ryan's hands and began yelling at him for attempting to use it. As he tossed the chair out of the ring, he stepped towards the Renegade's corner and began scolding Candi who acted completely innocent to the fact, despite Referee Greer yelling, "I know it was you! Get back up on the apron!"
As Candi and the referee argued, Ryan Steele stepped towards him, yelling to the ref and trying to back Candi's false claim up. There, from behind, Morgan Payne crawled forward and nailed Ryan with a forearm between the legs!!
Hanson: "OH!!!! LOW BLOW!!! A LOW BLOW FROM MORGAN PAYNE!!"
Reynolds: "WAIT A SECOND!!! SHE CAN'T DO THAT!!"
Hanson: "SHE JUST DID, JIM!!!!"
Finally, Morgan Payne quickly forced herself to her feet and pulled Ryan back towards her. With a gutteral, enraged shriek, she hoisted the two hundred plus pound man onto her shoulders - SEETHING with anger - as the crowd went wild, roaring and jumping to their feet. Candi Broduer, then, attempted to notify the referee of the low blow while Shelton Benjamin slapped the turnbuckle, grinning from ear to ear and hysterically cheering his surrogate niece on.
Reynolds: "NICKY, MY GOD, LOOK AT THE POWER OF THIS GIRL!"
Hanson: "THAT LITTLE GIRL SQUATS 300, JIM!!! THIS IS ALMOST NOTHING TO HER!!!!!"
Reynolds: "WHAT THE HELL?! SHE'S NOT GONNA...IS SHE GONNA...?!"
Hanson: "I THINK SHE IS, JIM!!"
With another, angry scream, Morgan Payne drove Ryan Steele down with a painfully angled Dahntahn After Dark that reverberated through the mat with a loud *SLAM*
Crowd: "OHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!"
Hanson: "THERE'S THE COVER!!! TURN AROUND REF!!!"
Just in time, Referee James Greer turned his attention back to the match and hurried down beside Morgan and Ryan, slapping out the count. 1...2...3!!
Being helped to her feet by Shelton, Morgan beat a fist against her chest and stood over Ryan Steele as he laid on the mat.
"FUCK YOU, YOU SON OF A BITCH!!!!"
High fiving, fist bumping and hugging, Shelton Benjamin and Morgan Payne exited the ring as Battle Beast's cover of "Push It To The Limit" rocked the arena. Upon reaching the stage, Morgan turned around and stretched out her cut off, Scarface-style "Bad Bitch" t-shirt and shouted down towards the ring;
"JOU WANNA WAR, MENG?! I TAKE JOU TO FUCKIN' WAR!!" Before pumping her fist to her music as a play to the crowd and followed Shelton back through the curtain.
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Nico and Adrianna Salvatore defeated Alex Brody and Chris Jericho by pinfall in 16:22 when Nico delivered a sickening GFY to Jericho.
While Adrianna approached Alex and Jericho to offer a respectful fist bump, Nico promptly threw the referee's hand off of him as he tried to raise his arm and slid out of the ring, storming towards the back, already starting to pull the tape off of his hands.
"Nico!" Adrianna called after her brother. Even she looked a little taken aback. Nonetheless, Nico never halted in his pace as he tossed the bunched up tape to the floor and flung the curtain aside, disappearing.
Hanson: " Well this is...awkward...."
Reynolds: "Ya think?"
Looking just a little embarrassed, Adrianna gave Alex another fist bump before sliding out of the ring and jogging up the ramp to catch up with her brother.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[9/27/2018 - DAY 3 - A BLOCK]
*Rick Dickulous backs through the curtain, still waving at fans. He turns and walks towards the backstage post match interview backdrop, the camera panning to follow his movement*
"Matt, guy? I said it before, and I'll say it again, buddy, people better keep their eye on you! That was one of the best matches I've had, eh? I mean, you almost had me a couple of times, friend..."
*Rick points and nods to someone off camera. A towel flies into Rick's face, completely missing his hand. El Piso Mojado can be heard laughing in the background. Rick smiles and shakes his head, laughing as he wipes sweat off his face*
"Piso, I've got some Bruce Banner in my secret box, guy! When I'm done here we'll go light a small controlled fire in the dressing room while we watch the rest of these matches, eh?"
*Rick looks into the camera*
"I'm really looking forward to Shelly and Zack Sabre Jr. Gives me a chance to prepare for next week and my match with Shelton. I promised him a match for my Silver Mountain Championship, I said this with Ron MacLean. I promised him a match for it, and he hasn't taken me up on it, eh?"
"It's all good, Shelton-guy, even though our next block match doesn't have a cool special stipulation to it, it's still a match! I mean, obviously I want to win, that's the whole point. It's like when I played hockey as a kid and we'd travel to Buffalo or Livonia, Michigan, or wherever for a tournament. If you don't win, you go home...and I'm not going home, guy!"
*Rick nods*
"Shelton, buddy, let's get it on like Donkey Kong!"
*A voice mutters off screen as Rick looks off camera*
"I'm sorry? What was that, guy? W-waitasec, that was racist? How could you say that's racist?"
*Again, the voice mutters unintelligibly from off screen. Rick's jaw drops, mouth agape as he looks back into the camera*
"Oh shit, Shelton, guy! My bad, bro! I swear I didn't mean it like that at all, buddy! I'm so sorry! Like, if I meant it, I'd be all like: *Rick puts on a fake angry face* HA! Sorry, not sorry!" *Rick drops the mean face*
"Jesus Christ on a motorbike, guy! I'm really sorry! Let's just go out there and put on the match that tops the highlight reels...one of those good, old fashioned slobberknockers, eh? I saw a bunch of your MMA fights, and that's what we need to bring out of you. That will make our block match one of the best of the block...if not, of the whole damned thing, buddy!"
"I gotta go. Piso and I have a date with Rita MacNeil."
*Rick walks off as the shot fades*
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Cutting back to ringside, the staff and security appear to be just finishing on cleaning up from the previous match and preparing for the tournament matches to begin. As they do, we are greeted by Hanson and Reynolds again.
Hanson: "Alright, Jim." *We hear him clap his hands* "Show time! B Block! You ready?"
Reynolds: "As I'll ever be! Give us the scoop so far."
Hanson: "Alright, with two points so far, we have: Scott Leroux, Kenny Omega, EVIL, Judas Lasher and Minoru Suzuki. Big Daddy Payne, William Mannheim, Tama Tonga, Andrew Payne and Curry Man have yet to earn any points. Once again, just like last night's A Block event, that's definitely going to change for a few individuals, starting with our first block match of the night and it starts...right now...."
As Hanson finished his words, the opening build up to "Guerrilla Tactics" came through the speakers. Accompanying Tama Tonga to the ring was his brother, Tanga Loa, rocking his jungle camo pants and a Firing Squad jersey. As they entered the ring, Tanga approached the announcer.
"Entering the ring, at this time---" Before the ring announcer could finish, Tanga SNATCHED the mic out of his hand and pie faced him so hard, he fell back on his ass and rolled out of the ring. Stepping back towards the center of the ring, Tanga stuck his arm out and dramatically leaned forward, going low as he brought the microphone up to his mouth, very much in mockery of a certain "electrifying man in sports entertainment."
"Llllllllladies and gentlemen....." Tanga began, cocking his head to the side and looking into the camera where he pushes one eyebrow up with his middle finger. "Bitch ass hoes.....and fllllllamin' doritos...."
Dropping the impersonation, he straightens up his stance, going back to his own mannerisms. "At this time, I bring to YOU...the man about to put NFW's "Punisher"...at 0 and 2. About to leave that ass dead in a ditch...just like when he Gun Stunned...that skank ass bitch!"
The crowd jeered as Tanga grinned with his tongue between his teeth, turning to "too sweet" Tama.
Hanson: "Oh for the love of...."
"He steps into this ring and shows his genius...and with the ladies, he's uhh...quite the 'cunning linguist.'" Tanga Loa smirks, winking at the camera. "Reppin' the TRUE BC as one of it's original 'fathas'.... I give you my 'brotha'...THE BAD BOY....TAMA....TONGAAAAAAAAA!!!!" Tanga Loa tosses the mic at the announcer's feet, forcing him to bend over and pick it up, before giving his brother daps as the opening chords of Lamb of God's "The Duke" sound over the arena's speaker system, signaling the entrance of Andrew Payne.
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The bell sounded, literally, seconds after Andrew Payne entered the ring, due to the fact that halfway down the walkway, he went from his purposeful walk into a full on sprint the rest of the way, sliding into the ring and coming right at Tama Tonga. By the time the bell did ring to start the match, they were already several shots into a brutal exchange of punches. Fists flew back and forth before Tama Tonga faked Payne out and thumbed him in the eye.
Hanson: "Aw, c'mon! Bastard!"
Seizing the opportunity, Tama Tonga nailed Pittsburgh's Punisher with some heavy forearms across the back of the neck, threw him the double bird and came off the ropes to capitalize. To the delight of the crowd, Andrew countered at the last second, hoisting Tama up, around 180* and flattened him in the center of the ring with a Spinebuster that would have made Arn Anderson proud. Finally having a moment to remove his entrance gear, Andrew Payne got to his feet and ripped his t-shirt off with one hand, throwing it over the ropes at Tanga Loa and gave the middle finger of his own before turning back to Tama Tonga.
After a pretty back and forth matchup that was reminiscent of a highly anticipated brawl, Tama Tonga evaded an attempt at Andrew Payne trying to hit the Faded Line by hitting a last second basement dropkick to his knee with the black and yellow brace on it. Tama Tonga followed up with an attempt at the Gun Stun but Andrew Payne pushed him forward into the ropes and, when Tama rebounded, Payne caught him into a German Suplex that left both of them prone on the mat. Tama Tonga was the first, however, to begin getting to his feet as Andrew clutched at his knee, grimacing in pain. Tama looked over at Payne with a look in his eyes like a shark who smelled blood in the water, calling out to Tanga.
Hanson: "What the hell's he doing?"
Hanson asked as Tanga stormed over to the time keeper, shouting "Get'cho ass up!!! Move, bitch!!" And threw the man out of his seat, snatching up the chair and folding it with a loud metallic *SNAP*.
Hanson: "What the hell?!"
Reynolds: "Is he out of his mind?! He's gonna get his brother disqualified!"
Hanson: "Yeah, and then he'll be banned from ever stepping foot inside an NFW arena, again!!"
As Tanga approached the ring, closest to where his brother was, he laughed mockingly, taunting the ref. "Fuck you, bitch! Whatchu gon' do?! WHATCHU GON' DO?!"
As the referee tried to get passed Tama Tonga to handle Tanga Loa, who was just about to throw the chair into the ring, the crowd and announce team alike were caught off guard when a large man with a shaved head, dressed in a black dress shirt, slacks, clean dress shoes and a yellow tie, climbed quickly over the barricade and charged right over to Tanga Loa, beginning to lay into him with vicious lefts and rights. Tanga Loa dropped the chair and began fighting back to the best of his ability, but given he was taken off guard, he could only do so much as this unknown, 300+ pound man completely took it to Tanga.
Hanson: "Who the hell is this guy?!"
Reynolds: "I don't know, Nicky!"
Hanson: "My god, it looks like a disgruntled fan has jumped the barricade and...Jim, he is taking it to Tanga Loa!"
Reynolds: "This guy doesn't look like a fan, Nicky! He looks like someone who's coming to remind Tanga Loa he owes the mob money!"
Hanson: "Look at the size of this guy!"
The crowd continued to roar as the unknown attacker irish whipped Tanga Loa into - no, THROUGH - the barricade!
Reynolds: "DAMN!!!"
Hanson: "OH MY GOD, JIM!!!"
With Tama Tonga distracted, trying to get passed the ref and out of the ring to help his brother, Andrew Payne seized the opportunity and got back to his feet.
Hanson: "Wait, back in the ring, Jim! Payne's back up!"
He whipped Tama around and delivered a stiff thrust kick to the gut, grabbing him by his head on his shoulder and dropped down, delivering a vicious stunner.
Hanson: "ART OF RUIN FROM THE PUNISHER!!"
Tama Tonga snapped up, staggering back and turning in a 180 where Payne grabbed him around the waist, lifted him up and brought him down with a thunderous 11th Hour before hooking the leg. Hearing the sound of the impact, the referee turned around and dropped down to make the count, ending the match with Andrew Payne as the winner at 13:09. Immediately after, the referee slid out of the ring and ran over to try and get the big man attacking Tanga Loa back as he laid stomp after stomp on the member of G.O.D. At the sound of "The Duke" playing over the speakers, however, the man stopped on his own and turned towards the ring. Pushing passed the referee, the man walked up the steps and entered the ring where he walked over and exchanged a few casual words with Andrew Payne. Payne nodded and dabbed with the man.
Hanson: "Wait a second, what's this?"
Reynolds: "What in the world?"
Hanson: "Does Andrew Payne know this man?"
As Tama Tonga scrambled to recover from the 11th Hour, the big man in black motioned for Payne to step back and give him room. Then, he grabbed Tama Tonga by the face, delivering a brutal Iron Claw Slam in the middle of the ring.
Hanson: "WOW!!!!"
Finally, Andrew Payne and the man in black exited the ring, leaving ringside together up the ramp.
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[9/26/2018 - DAY 3 - A BLOCK]
With the crowd still amped up from watching the match between Max LeBrun and Buzzsaw, Max came stumbling through the curtain, absolutely beaten and battered, clutching his ribs. Through all of this, he chuckled, grinning coldly.
"Heh...haha...Buzzsaw?" He said, as he leaned back against the promotional backdrop as the camera crew zoomed in; the champion sliding down the backdrop and sitting on the floor, wincing in absolute pain as he rested the Heavyweight title belt in his lap. "I told you...I wasn't gonna let you beat me.... I told you...we were gonna tear it up...." He laughed, wincing from just that as he clutched his ribs with one arm and held the back of his neck with the other hand. "Agh! But you brought it...I'll give you that. You fucking brought it. Now, I didn't beat you either...not officially, anyway...but...a point is a point...and I know it's gotta be eating you up inside. The guy who's been knocking people out, the guy who's been choking people out left and right since you stepped back into this company...." He shook his head. "...But you couldn't beat me.... You have to settle for the draw...and that inkling...nagging realization in the back of your head, that I...am your equal. I can survive *anything* that you try and throw at me and that's why THIS...." He let go of his neck and lifted the Heavyweight Championship up, "...that's why I have this.... But, that's done and over with. *We* are done and over with. So let that sink in for as long as you need to...."
He lowered the belt back into his lap and leaned his head back against the backdrop. "We move on next week...and Ibushi? You'd better believe that I've got you in my sights. I've already got your number. I've paid attention to your work for *years!* And frankly? I'm a little anxious for our match...I'm looking forward to it. Because I'm gonna kick your teeth down the back of your throat for thinking you can just waltz in here and fight for a shot at the NFW Heavyweight Title -- *MY* NFW Heavyweight Title!" He sat up and thumbed to himself with a seething look of disgust on his face. "A free agent who has no allegience to whatever company that writes him a check to come put on a match for them! This is *my* territory! This is the Renegade's territory! You?" He shook his head and grinned wickedly. "You call yourself the Golden Star. Well...when you and I face off next week? I'll be happy to add Starkiller to my list of aliases...." Raising his fist up in front of the camera, Max pulled the pin, and pulled himself to his feet, shaking off a backstage attendant who tried to help him. "Get off me!" He snapped, grinning at the camera then. "Seeya, next week, in Queens...Golden Star...." And made his way towards the locker rooms.
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EVIL defeated Curry Man in their block match, by pinfall, after an electric 15:28 bout by hitting him with Everything Is Evil.
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After a brutal, nostalgic match that was reminiscent of old school NFW, Judas Lasher defeated Big Daddy Payne in their block match, by pinfall in 12:01 after rolling to the side during a Bukakke Blast attempt, leaping up, and snapping Payne down with the Lucifer's Halo.
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William Mannheim defeated Minoru Suzuki in their block match, by pinfall in 9:32 after a brutal, triple powerbomb.
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[9/26/2018 - DAY 3 - A BLOCK]
With the sound of I Prevail's "Come And Get It" blasting out in the arena, Kane came storming through the curtain, growling under his breath as he approached the promotional backdrop, only to go right passed it, completely ignoring the interviewers who hastily backed away from him in utter terror....
******************************************
Fading in from white, Nico Salvatore emerged through the curtain, following his speech in the ring as he pulled his hand tape off. Again, he said nothing after he stopped in front of the camera. He simply stepped up to the lens with that same, cold sneer on his face and raised up one hand -- this time, with two fingers held up. Afterwards, he walked away from the interviewers, heading down the hall towards the locker rooms....
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Kenny Omega defeated Scott Leroux in their block match, by pinfall in 18:53. After Omega managed to reach the ropes while Leroux had him in the Ankle Lock on his previously injured ankle for over a minute, Leroux pulled him back by the tights, starting to set him up for a last ditch German Suplex. As he took that one second to take a quick breath, however, Omega seized the moment and dropped down, lifting the Tapout King up onto his shoulders. Nearly stumbling from the weight of another human being due to his ankle, Kenny followed up quick and drove Scott Leroux down with the One Winged Angel, allowing him to make the cover.
As "Devil's Sky" erupted through the speakers, Kenny Omega and Scott Leroux looked towards each other - Kenny on his knees, Scott sitting up, both men exhausted. A rising cheer came from the crowd, then, as Kenny Omega slowly extended a fist out towards his opponent. Slowly grinning with a nod, Scott Leroux returned the fist bump to the delight of the entire arena.
Hanson: "Alright!! Yes!!!"
Reynolds: "Now *THAT* is awesome!"
After helping Kenny Omega to his feet, Scott Leroux joined the referee in raising the man's arm, despite being, obviously, unhappy about the outcome. Afterwards, he patted Kenny on the back on his way out of the ring, calling for the crowd to pay respect to the man.
Back inside the ring, Kenny Omega accepted the microphone from the ring announcer as his music slowly faded out to allow him to speak. Looking around the crowd, after having doused his head with water as he usually did after a hard match, he slowly lifted the microphone up.
"Anata ni wa shoj---" He began before stopping himself, lowering the mic and scanning the crowd with a hand hovering over his eyes. He lowered his hand and brought the mic back up. "Sorry, I forgot where I was for a second." This earned a laugh from the crowd. Kenny lowered his head, and lifted a hand, begging to continue. "But, really...in all seriousness. I have to be honest. When we first came here -- myself, Nick and Matt -- we did come here with ill intentions." A buzz moved through the crowd. Kenny closed his eyes and nodded, almost ashamed to admit it. "We heard that Harold Meij -- our new company president -- we heard about the partnership that he and Commissioner Steven Brody signed between New Frontier Wrestling and New Japan...and our first thoughts were "what...the HELL...is he thinking? Who the hell...are these idiots that we're supposed to work with?" He made a disgusted, albeit humorous face as he shrugged, shaking his head. "These guys are supposedly on our level? They're the 'New Japan of the United States'?! Bull...shit!"
A louder commotion arose from the crowd but Kenny asked for silence, raising his finger. "But!! But...that...was the bullshit part. Our mindset...our thought process...our opinion of the roster here...." He said, pointing towards the back. "*That*...was bullshit. In just the few matches that we've had here against NFW superstars, we have come to the conclusion that Harold Meij's decision to sign that partnership was...well, as another company that I won't exactly name, would say...best...for business." He grinned, winking at the camera. "Hey, quick shout out to Luke, Karl and Devitt. We miss you boys. Aaaaanyway! Moving on, before I get sidetracked again!" Another chuckle from the crowd as Kenny turned serious again. "I stay with New Japan Pro Wrestling...because that's where the competition is at. That's where the drive is at. That's where you'll find some of the greatest professional wrestlers in the entire world! And now? I can honestly say that you can find more of the best *right here!*" He said, pointing down at the ring he was standing in. "And trust me...I've had people come up to me and they talk about the similarities. The 'copycat' tactics. But I don't see that. Is this tournament similar to a certain event we've been holding for over a decade now? Even more?" He looked around, nodding. "True. True. But...the difference with NFW is, the honor that you can feel in this tournament. The respect. Not just for tradition, not just for the determination and the fighting spirit of the wrestlers. I mean, we have that too. But I know what *this* tournament means to a lot of the guys in the back. A lot of the guys competing in this event. And I won't lie; I love wrestling. You all probably know that. I love wrestling, I love winning and I love championships. Do I fully intend to be your first Vlad Blackheart Memorial winner? Oh yeah, you know it. I've said it over and over already. But believe me when I say that it is a privilege to compete...to give my all...to lay everything I've got out in this ring to do so. And I'm honored to do it in matches like the one you just saw. The ones that you've been seeing for this passed week. Guys like the McKeesport Mafia...guys like William Mannheim...his son Rick Dickulous -- hey, odd name but that guy kicks...some...ASS!!"
He paused, giving the crowd a moment to pop, before continuing. "Guys like Scott Leroux!" He pointed towards the back. "Guys like Judas Lasher...who scares the shit out of me, by the way." The crowd laughed. "I'm serious! But he's a competitor. They are *all* competitors. So, I'm not gonna stand here and beat a dead horse about how I've got seven more matches to go, seven more people to beat. Instead, I wanna say that as someone who lives, breathes and bleeds New Japan Pro Wrestling, I fully support the partnership with the New Frontier and on behalf of the rest of the boys back there who have stuck by me through even the darkest times - Nick...Matt...Hangman...Chase...Kota...Yujiro - on behalf of them, I want to end this by saying we are looking forward to working with this company for the forseeable future. On that note, arigatogozaimashita. Watashitachi wa futatabi anata ni aimasu...." He paused and grinned at the crowd. "I know you guys wanted to hear more of that."
The crowd laughed, as Kenny raised his hand in the shape of a gun. "Brooklyn! It's been a pleasure! GOOD--BYE!!!" He said, leaning his head back towards the ceiling and brought his finger up to his lips. "MmmmmmWUAH!!!" And pointed it out beside him. "And good...night!! BANG!!!!" Dropping the mic, Kenny Omega kissed both hands, raising them out towards the crowd before exiting the ring and making his way up the ramp as "Devil's Sky" resumed.
Hanson: "Well there ya have it, folks!"
Reynolds: "Hey, an endorsement from New Japan's Best Bout Machine? I ain't gonna knock it!"
Hanson: "I don't think anyone in their right mind would, Jim. Ladies and gentlemen, we hope you enjoyed tonight's event and we look forward to having you join us next week when the Vlad Blackheart Memorial continues in the Carnesecca Arena! We're going to Queens, Jimmy!"
Reynolds: "Hey, my favorite actor's from Queens!"
Hanson: "Really?"
Reynolds: "Yeah, you know.... His name...is Christopher.... Christopher Walken."
Hanson: "Horrible impersonation. Good night, ladies and gentlemen!"
