Post by Steven Brody, CEO on Oct 2, 2018 5:45:34 GMT -8
The show opens in silence as an image of Vlad Blackheart during his Vlad The Impaler persona 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.
Hanson: "Welcome back, ladies and gentlemen, to the Vlad Blackheart Memorial Tournament! We're here at the Carnesecca Arena, in Queens New York!"
Reynolds: *singing* "Ain't that a kick in the head!"
Hanson: "What the hell are you doing now?"
Reynolds: "Well, I can't do Christopher Walken so I figured I'll do Sinatra."
Hanson: "Jim...."
Reynolds: "Yeah?"
Hanson: "Frank Sinatra wasn't from Queens."
Reynolds: "Well, I know that, but--"
Hanson: "He wasn't even from New York!"
Reynolds: "Wait, what?! But, Eric in booking said---"
Hanson: "Jim, Frank Sinatra was from Hoboken, New Jersey."
Reynolds: "That LYING MOTHER---"
We hear the sound of a headset being ripped off before the camera quickly cuts to the announce table just in time to see Reynolds storming towards backstage like a man on a mission.
Hanson: "How does that man, still have a job? Anyway, folks! I guess, uhh...it seems I'll be going it alone for the start here until Jim goes off and does...whatever it is he plans to do. I'm Nick Hanson and, as always, on behalf of myself and my temperamental broadcast colleague, we thank you for joining us again tonight for more Vlad Blackheart Memorial action. B Block continues tonight, but first, let's get warmed up with the prelims!"
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In the opening preliminary tag match, the women of the Renegades defeated Merlex, by pinfall in 13:36, when Serena Frost delivered The Ice Age to Erin Mercer and scored the cover.
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In the second preliminary tag match, the representatives for Suzuki-Gun defeated the team of Connor K, AKI and Shelton Benjamin, by pinfall in 11:02, when Zack hit AKI with the Zack Driver and hooked his leg for the pinfall.
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[10/1/2018 - DAY 5 - A BLOCK]
As Saliva's "Go Big Or Go Home" blares out in the arena, the Rebel Rousers emerge through the curtain with big Chase Evans leaning on the smaller Teddy Morse, still reeling from the Trip To Hell. "Fuck, man. You alright?" Teddy sets Chase down in front of the backdrop. Chase nods, holding an ice pack to the back of his neck.
"Them sons o'bitches are tough. I'll give 'em that." Chase says, exhausted from the match.
Teddy plops down beside his partner, peeling the tape off of his wrists with his head hung in defeat. He sighs. "Yeah...can't be pissed about this one. They lived up to their rep." Teddy tosses the wadded up tape off camera. "Hey, you think we should take 'em up on their offer?"
"What offer?" Chase asks, accepting a bottle of water from a staff member who's hand is seen handing it down to him. Teddy accepts the second one as Chase pours some into his hand and splashes it on his face.
Teddy pauses to sip from the water before answering. "They said if we wanted, we could hit them up for some extra pointers. I mean, I've been thinkin' about it and we *did* get lucky to get a call from Brody. We're still pretty green, brother."
Chase frowns in disbelief as he looks over at Teddy. "You serious? C'mon, man, we can do better than that."
Teddy nods in agreement. "I know, right? I realized that. We just might need a little extra tutorship or something."
"Tutilege." Chase says, drinking more water.
"Whatever." Teddy shakes his head, waving his hands impatiently, trying to convince Chase of the opportunity.
Chase almost coughs from the amount of water he drinks down before looking to Teddy. "And nah, man, I'm talking about the AoD. We can do better than them as far as who to learn from."
Teddy goes wide eyed as if Chase just committed blasphemy. "Are you ser---?!"
"Dude, that dumbass Pitt shot a bald eagle on their hunting trip." Chase says with a flat, serious expression. "Who the fuck does that? A bonified, goddamned idiot." Chase shakes his bottle of water at Teddy as he gets up off of the floor. "That's who!" He adds, and walks off, his legs moving out of frame.
Teddy sits there, alone, trying to ponder the information Chase just gave him. Finally, his eyes go wide and he looks directly at the camera. "Aw, shit!" He looks off in the direction Teddy went. "Teddy! YO! You serious?!" He gets up and runs to catch up with his tag team partner.
The shot cuts to ringside where, back in present time, Nick Hanson and a returned James Reynolds are watching the segment on their monitors. Reynolds stares at his monitor in utter shock and disbelief while Hanson looks like he's searching on his phone. After a second, he shows his screen to Reynolds who looks and rolls his eyes.
Reynolds: "Fucking...IDIOT!!"
Hanson: "Welp!" *He puts his phone down and adjusts his tie* "Back to the action, folks!"
Hanson can be heard whistling nervously as the shot cuts back to the entrance ramp.
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In the final preliminary tag match of the night, the Dominion of Pain defeated the Great White North, by pinfall in 13:10, when Crimson Sabre hit El Piso Mojado with a dragonrana and locked his legs for the cover while Rick Dickulous and Doomsday broke out into a brawl outside of the ring. Even as "Year Zero" played throughout the arena and Sabre's arm was raised in victory, Doomsday continued to go back and forth, trading shots with Rick until nearly a dozen security staff came to break the two big men up.
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Reynolds: "Nicky, I swear, those two are gonna end up tearing an entire venue apart if something isn't done soon."
Hanson: "What are you gonna do with two big guys who just wanna hurt each other?"
Reynolds: "Hell, ya either keep 'em separated or stick 'em in the ring and let 'em get it out of their system!"
Hanson: "You wanna actually *let* those two fight?"
Reynolds: "Well, in all fairness, Rick Dickulous started all of this and it's clearly what he wants."
Hanson: "Now, how can you blame Rick for what's going on between him and Doomsday?"
Reynolds: "The moron picked a fight with him for no reason!"
Hanson: "Rick put an end to Doomsday's rampage against the NFW roster, Jim. And, on top of that, Doomsday made him one of his first targets."
Reynolds: "You heard Doomsday, just as well as I did, Nicky. It wasn't personal. I don't agree with the man's methods of getting what he wants -- if you can even call that monster a man -- but Rick could have left well and enough alone!"
Hanson: "Well, say what you want, Jim. For now, it seems like security and Commissioner Brody have calmed the fires. So, with that being said, let's get the ball rolling on tonight's B Block matches."
Reynolds: "Let's hear the totals!"
Hanson: "Alright, leading the block together; we have Judas Lasher, Kenny Omega and EVIL with four points each. Scott Leroux, William Mannheim, Andrew Payne and Minoru Suzuki, each have two points. Big Daddy Payne, Tama Tonga and Curry Man still sit at zero points. And our first block match will very likely be a straight up slugfest. You ready for this, Jim?"
Reynolds: "Who's up, Nicky?"
Rather than Nick answering the question, Jim recieves his answer in the form of the opening notes of Lamb of God's "The Duke."
Reynolds: "Ohhhhhh-ho-hooooooo MAN!!!! I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE, NICKY!!!"
The Queens crowd gave a deafening pop that was only drowned by the main guitar riff, once it kicked in and "The Punisher" Andrew Payne emerged through the curtain. Walking towards the ring, the camera hones in on his face, still sporting two dark rings under his eyes, due to the broken nose he sustained from his match with Suzuki, which still has a butterfly suture over the bridge. Oddly enough, it just makes the man look even more intimidating.
Reynolds: "This guy's a fighter, Nicky. Through and through."
Hanson: "You're damn right, he is! The doctors even suggested he might wanna consider backing out of the rest of the tournament, lest he sustain further injury to that nose that Suzuki fractured with those stiff forearms. You wanna know what he told them?"
Reynolds: "What'd he say, Nicky?"
Hanson: "Well...I won't repeat it verbatim, with our viewers watching, but needless to say, he voiced his disagreement with a lot of uhh...passion."
Andrew Payne steps into the ring, going through his routine of stepping up onto the middle turnbuckle and raising his fists as he yells to the crowd, revealing a Pittsburgh Steelers mouth piece over his top teeth. He pulls his House Payne sigil shirt off and tosses it to a little kid in the front row before hopping down from the turnbuckle. He begins to tug on the ropes, getting in a last minute warm up as his music fades out and is replaced by Saliva's "Go Big Or Go Home" signaling the arrival of his opponent for the night.
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After, what was indeed, a straight up, yet entertaining 14:50 slug fest between two tough veterans of the company, "The Mangler" William Mannheim managed to pick up a win over "The Punisher" Andrew Payne after putting him down with three consecutive Clotheslines From Hell before making the cover.
As Mannheim's music tore throughout the arena, Payne got to his feet, gingerly walking right up to the taller man and the two clasped hands in a show of sportsmanship.
Reynolds: "David Meltzer can kiss my ass, Nicky. That was a goddamn five start fight, right there!"
Hanson: "I think this one will probably go down as one of the top five of the tournament, Jim."
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[10/1/2018 - DAY 5 - A BLOCK]
As Nothingface's "Make Your Own Bones" plays out in the arena, Nico Salvatore walks through the curtain, shrugging off ringside staff trying to help him as he goes. He makes it to the backdrop on his own and sets his hands on his hips, exhaling.
"Whoooo...fuck...." He says at first, beginning to unwrap his hands. "I came into this tournament with a big head.... Picked up two wins, right off the bat. I started doing this shit---" He raises one finger, then extends the second. "I thought I was gonna walk back here, get up in yous' guys' shit again and just do this." He raises three fingers. "Truth be told, I forgot who I was fucking with, out there. Buzzsaw's been realigning f'nucs' grills when I was still feelin' up Principal Frazetti's daughter in." He cracks that sly, cocky grin of his at the mention of that and looks directly into the camera. "How ya doin', Charlie. Y'alright?"
His smile fades as he turns serious again. "I came here to kick ass and didn't care who's I kicked." He shrugged. "Hell, in that sense, I still don't. I still plan on winning this thing. I can't knock Buzzsaw, though. I gave him my all and he showed me it wasn't quite enough. I'm not gonna linger on it. Shit's done and over with. Next up: October 3rd. Zack Sabre Jr." Here, Nico cracks an arrogant grin again. "Bro, I may have been humbled tonight, but that don't mean I don't got your number. Y'see...." Nico looks down, bringing up a hand beside his head, motioning as he speaks, "...you call yourself a submission artist...pro-wrestling master, all that kinda shit. You won your match tonight. Kudos." He applauds, obviously sarcastically. "Bravisimo, paisano. Good job. I know right now, you're probably sitting with your boys in Suzuki-Gun, watching this match. I may have left 100% out in the ring just now, but I've still got more. You wanna call yourself a submission master? Motherfucker, I learned the art of submission wrestling from the baddest--bitch--on the god--damn--planet!" Here, he leans into the camera, jabbing his finger down towards the floor. "You wanna come out there with your little troll on the mic talking about Zack Sabre Time?" He shakes his head. "Nah...it's gonna be nap time...tap time...or snap time. Take your pick, f'nuc." With that, Nico Salvatore walks away from the camera as the shot fades to black.
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EVIL defeated Scott Leroux in their block match, by pinfall in 9:22, with Everything Is Evil.
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[10/1/2018 - DAY 5 - A BLOCK]
As Therapy & Fatal's "Come And Die" plays out in the arena, Kane emerges through the curtain, into the backstage arena, following his loss to Chris Wolfe. As he starts to pass by the backdrop, a reporter, tentatively, calls out to him.
"U-uhh...excuse us...Kane?"
Kane stops and slowly turns his head towards the interviewers; the Big Red Machine slowly lumbering over to them with the camera man backing up out of fear. When Kane finally comes to a stop, he remains silent, watching them all with a disinterested look on his half-covered face.
"S-sorry to bother you...we were just wondering, umm...."
"How I feel...about my progress in the tournament, so far...." Kane finishes for the man, in that low, intimidating tone of his. There's no verbal response from the interviewers as Kane slowly shakes his head. "Let me make one thing clear...I don't care...about winning this tournament. I don't care about paying respect...to Vlad Blackheart. I don't care...about ANYTHING...except pain...and torment." Finally, a twisted grin forms, across his mouth. "I came here...to hurt people. I came here, because I *LIKE*...to *HURT* people! I came here...to cause PAIN!! AGONY!!! ANGUISH!!" He roars with a scowl; his voice echoes throughout the halls as he looms over the interviewers.
Finally, he turns towards the camera. "Speaking of pain...." His scowl turns into another twisted grin. "I have to say...I am most definitely...looking forward to my next opponent...." His shoulders shake as he chuckles under his breath. "It's been a long...long time, Max. I was wondering what had come of you after our last meeting.... Don't you remember?" He laughs again, this time more audibly. "Don't you remember...what fun you and I had, inside the fire? I do. I bet you do, too. I bet you've remembered it...every day...for the last thirteen years...when you look in the mirror." Slowly, Kane reaches up with his gloved hand and runs his fingers down the right side of his mask as he starts to laugh, again. This time, stepping back from the camera as his laugh goes from low and quiet to full-on loud and outright maniacal. A laugh that continues as he steps out of the camera frame and continues down the hallway....
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Kenny Omega defeated Judas Lasher, by pinfall in 17:58, after landing two consecutive V-Triggers, and then finishing off the King of Pain with the One Winged Angel.
Reynolds: "HOLY CRAP, NICKY!!"
Hanson: "OMEGA BEATS LASHER?!"
Reynolds: "WOW!!!"
Hanson: "KENNY OMEGA...JUST DEFEATED JUDAS LASHER!! HOW THE HELL DID HE DO IT?!"
Reynolds: "TALK ABOUT DIGGING DEEP!!"
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~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.
Hanson: "Welcome back, ladies and gentlemen, to the Vlad Blackheart Memorial Tournament! We're here at the Carnesecca Arena, in Queens New York!"
Reynolds: *singing* "Ain't that a kick in the head!"
Hanson: "What the hell are you doing now?"
Reynolds: "Well, I can't do Christopher Walken so I figured I'll do Sinatra."
Hanson: "Jim...."
Reynolds: "Yeah?"
Hanson: "Frank Sinatra wasn't from Queens."
Reynolds: "Well, I know that, but--"
Hanson: "He wasn't even from New York!"
Reynolds: "Wait, what?! But, Eric in booking said---"
Hanson: "Jim, Frank Sinatra was from Hoboken, New Jersey."
Reynolds: "That LYING MOTHER---"
We hear the sound of a headset being ripped off before the camera quickly cuts to the announce table just in time to see Reynolds storming towards backstage like a man on a mission.
Hanson: "How does that man, still have a job? Anyway, folks! I guess, uhh...it seems I'll be going it alone for the start here until Jim goes off and does...whatever it is he plans to do. I'm Nick Hanson and, as always, on behalf of myself and my temperamental broadcast colleague, we thank you for joining us again tonight for more Vlad Blackheart Memorial action. B Block continues tonight, but first, let's get warmed up with the prelims!"
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In the opening preliminary tag match, the women of the Renegades defeated Merlex, by pinfall in 13:36, when Serena Frost delivered The Ice Age to Erin Mercer and scored the cover.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In the second preliminary tag match, the representatives for Suzuki-Gun defeated the team of Connor K, AKI and Shelton Benjamin, by pinfall in 11:02, when Zack hit AKI with the Zack Driver and hooked his leg for the pinfall.
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[10/1/2018 - DAY 5 - A BLOCK]
As Saliva's "Go Big Or Go Home" blares out in the arena, the Rebel Rousers emerge through the curtain with big Chase Evans leaning on the smaller Teddy Morse, still reeling from the Trip To Hell. "Fuck, man. You alright?" Teddy sets Chase down in front of the backdrop. Chase nods, holding an ice pack to the back of his neck.
"Them sons o'bitches are tough. I'll give 'em that." Chase says, exhausted from the match.
Teddy plops down beside his partner, peeling the tape off of his wrists with his head hung in defeat. He sighs. "Yeah...can't be pissed about this one. They lived up to their rep." Teddy tosses the wadded up tape off camera. "Hey, you think we should take 'em up on their offer?"
"What offer?" Chase asks, accepting a bottle of water from a staff member who's hand is seen handing it down to him. Teddy accepts the second one as Chase pours some into his hand and splashes it on his face.
Teddy pauses to sip from the water before answering. "They said if we wanted, we could hit them up for some extra pointers. I mean, I've been thinkin' about it and we *did* get lucky to get a call from Brody. We're still pretty green, brother."
Chase frowns in disbelief as he looks over at Teddy. "You serious? C'mon, man, we can do better than that."
Teddy nods in agreement. "I know, right? I realized that. We just might need a little extra tutorship or something."
"Tutilege." Chase says, drinking more water.
"Whatever." Teddy shakes his head, waving his hands impatiently, trying to convince Chase of the opportunity.
Chase almost coughs from the amount of water he drinks down before looking to Teddy. "And nah, man, I'm talking about the AoD. We can do better than them as far as who to learn from."
Teddy goes wide eyed as if Chase just committed blasphemy. "Are you ser---?!"
"Dude, that dumbass Pitt shot a bald eagle on their hunting trip." Chase says with a flat, serious expression. "Who the fuck does that? A bonified, goddamned idiot." Chase shakes his bottle of water at Teddy as he gets up off of the floor. "That's who!" He adds, and walks off, his legs moving out of frame.
Teddy sits there, alone, trying to ponder the information Chase just gave him. Finally, his eyes go wide and he looks directly at the camera. "Aw, shit!" He looks off in the direction Teddy went. "Teddy! YO! You serious?!" He gets up and runs to catch up with his tag team partner.
The shot cuts to ringside where, back in present time, Nick Hanson and a returned James Reynolds are watching the segment on their monitors. Reynolds stares at his monitor in utter shock and disbelief while Hanson looks like he's searching on his phone. After a second, he shows his screen to Reynolds who looks and rolls his eyes.
Reynolds: "Fucking...IDIOT!!"
Hanson: "Welp!" *He puts his phone down and adjusts his tie* "Back to the action, folks!"
Hanson can be heard whistling nervously as the shot cuts back to the entrance ramp.
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In the final preliminary tag match of the night, the Dominion of Pain defeated the Great White North, by pinfall in 13:10, when Crimson Sabre hit El Piso Mojado with a dragonrana and locked his legs for the cover while Rick Dickulous and Doomsday broke out into a brawl outside of the ring. Even as "Year Zero" played throughout the arena and Sabre's arm was raised in victory, Doomsday continued to go back and forth, trading shots with Rick until nearly a dozen security staff came to break the two big men up.
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Reynolds: "Nicky, I swear, those two are gonna end up tearing an entire venue apart if something isn't done soon."
Hanson: "What are you gonna do with two big guys who just wanna hurt each other?"
Reynolds: "Hell, ya either keep 'em separated or stick 'em in the ring and let 'em get it out of their system!"
Hanson: "You wanna actually *let* those two fight?"
Reynolds: "Well, in all fairness, Rick Dickulous started all of this and it's clearly what he wants."
Hanson: "Now, how can you blame Rick for what's going on between him and Doomsday?"
Reynolds: "The moron picked a fight with him for no reason!"
Hanson: "Rick put an end to Doomsday's rampage against the NFW roster, Jim. And, on top of that, Doomsday made him one of his first targets."
Reynolds: "You heard Doomsday, just as well as I did, Nicky. It wasn't personal. I don't agree with the man's methods of getting what he wants -- if you can even call that monster a man -- but Rick could have left well and enough alone!"
Hanson: "Well, say what you want, Jim. For now, it seems like security and Commissioner Brody have calmed the fires. So, with that being said, let's get the ball rolling on tonight's B Block matches."
Reynolds: "Let's hear the totals!"
Hanson: "Alright, leading the block together; we have Judas Lasher, Kenny Omega and EVIL with four points each. Scott Leroux, William Mannheim, Andrew Payne and Minoru Suzuki, each have two points. Big Daddy Payne, Tama Tonga and Curry Man still sit at zero points. And our first block match will very likely be a straight up slugfest. You ready for this, Jim?"
Reynolds: "Who's up, Nicky?"
Rather than Nick answering the question, Jim recieves his answer in the form of the opening notes of Lamb of God's "The Duke."
Reynolds: "Ohhhhhh-ho-hooooooo MAN!!!! I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE, NICKY!!!"
The Queens crowd gave a deafening pop that was only drowned by the main guitar riff, once it kicked in and "The Punisher" Andrew Payne emerged through the curtain. Walking towards the ring, the camera hones in on his face, still sporting two dark rings under his eyes, due to the broken nose he sustained from his match with Suzuki, which still has a butterfly suture over the bridge. Oddly enough, it just makes the man look even more intimidating.
Reynolds: "This guy's a fighter, Nicky. Through and through."
Hanson: "You're damn right, he is! The doctors even suggested he might wanna consider backing out of the rest of the tournament, lest he sustain further injury to that nose that Suzuki fractured with those stiff forearms. You wanna know what he told them?"
Reynolds: "What'd he say, Nicky?"
Hanson: "Well...I won't repeat it verbatim, with our viewers watching, but needless to say, he voiced his disagreement with a lot of uhh...passion."
Andrew Payne steps into the ring, going through his routine of stepping up onto the middle turnbuckle and raising his fists as he yells to the crowd, revealing a Pittsburgh Steelers mouth piece over his top teeth. He pulls his House Payne sigil shirt off and tosses it to a little kid in the front row before hopping down from the turnbuckle. He begins to tug on the ropes, getting in a last minute warm up as his music fades out and is replaced by Saliva's "Go Big Or Go Home" signaling the arrival of his opponent for the night.
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After, what was indeed, a straight up, yet entertaining 14:50 slug fest between two tough veterans of the company, "The Mangler" William Mannheim managed to pick up a win over "The Punisher" Andrew Payne after putting him down with three consecutive Clotheslines From Hell before making the cover.
As Mannheim's music tore throughout the arena, Payne got to his feet, gingerly walking right up to the taller man and the two clasped hands in a show of sportsmanship.
Reynolds: "David Meltzer can kiss my ass, Nicky. That was a goddamn five start fight, right there!"
Hanson: "I think this one will probably go down as one of the top five of the tournament, Jim."
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[10/1/2018 - DAY 5 - A BLOCK]
As Nothingface's "Make Your Own Bones" plays out in the arena, Nico Salvatore walks through the curtain, shrugging off ringside staff trying to help him as he goes. He makes it to the backdrop on his own and sets his hands on his hips, exhaling.
"Whoooo...fuck...." He says at first, beginning to unwrap his hands. "I came into this tournament with a big head.... Picked up two wins, right off the bat. I started doing this shit---" He raises one finger, then extends the second. "I thought I was gonna walk back here, get up in yous' guys' shit again and just do this." He raises three fingers. "Truth be told, I forgot who I was fucking with, out there. Buzzsaw's been realigning f'nucs' grills when I was still feelin' up Principal Frazetti's daughter in." He cracks that sly, cocky grin of his at the mention of that and looks directly into the camera. "How ya doin', Charlie. Y'alright?"
His smile fades as he turns serious again. "I came here to kick ass and didn't care who's I kicked." He shrugged. "Hell, in that sense, I still don't. I still plan on winning this thing. I can't knock Buzzsaw, though. I gave him my all and he showed me it wasn't quite enough. I'm not gonna linger on it. Shit's done and over with. Next up: October 3rd. Zack Sabre Jr." Here, Nico cracks an arrogant grin again. "Bro, I may have been humbled tonight, but that don't mean I don't got your number. Y'see...." Nico looks down, bringing up a hand beside his head, motioning as he speaks, "...you call yourself a submission artist...pro-wrestling master, all that kinda shit. You won your match tonight. Kudos." He applauds, obviously sarcastically. "Bravisimo, paisano. Good job. I know right now, you're probably sitting with your boys in Suzuki-Gun, watching this match. I may have left 100% out in the ring just now, but I've still got more. You wanna call yourself a submission master? Motherfucker, I learned the art of submission wrestling from the baddest--bitch--on the god--damn--planet!" Here, he leans into the camera, jabbing his finger down towards the floor. "You wanna come out there with your little troll on the mic talking about Zack Sabre Time?" He shakes his head. "Nah...it's gonna be nap time...tap time...or snap time. Take your pick, f'nuc." With that, Nico Salvatore walks away from the camera as the shot fades to black.
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EVIL defeated Scott Leroux in their block match, by pinfall in 9:22, with Everything Is Evil.
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[10/1/2018 - DAY 5 - A BLOCK]
As Therapy & Fatal's "Come And Die" plays out in the arena, Kane emerges through the curtain, into the backstage arena, following his loss to Chris Wolfe. As he starts to pass by the backdrop, a reporter, tentatively, calls out to him.
"U-uhh...excuse us...Kane?"
Kane stops and slowly turns his head towards the interviewers; the Big Red Machine slowly lumbering over to them with the camera man backing up out of fear. When Kane finally comes to a stop, he remains silent, watching them all with a disinterested look on his half-covered face.
"S-sorry to bother you...we were just wondering, umm...."
"How I feel...about my progress in the tournament, so far...." Kane finishes for the man, in that low, intimidating tone of his. There's no verbal response from the interviewers as Kane slowly shakes his head. "Let me make one thing clear...I don't care...about winning this tournament. I don't care about paying respect...to Vlad Blackheart. I don't care...about ANYTHING...except pain...and torment." Finally, a twisted grin forms, across his mouth. "I came here...to hurt people. I came here, because I *LIKE*...to *HURT* people! I came here...to cause PAIN!! AGONY!!! ANGUISH!!" He roars with a scowl; his voice echoes throughout the halls as he looms over the interviewers.
Finally, he turns towards the camera. "Speaking of pain...." His scowl turns into another twisted grin. "I have to say...I am most definitely...looking forward to my next opponent...." His shoulders shake as he chuckles under his breath. "It's been a long...long time, Max. I was wondering what had come of you after our last meeting.... Don't you remember?" He laughs again, this time more audibly. "Don't you remember...what fun you and I had, inside the fire? I do. I bet you do, too. I bet you've remembered it...every day...for the last thirteen years...when you look in the mirror." Slowly, Kane reaches up with his gloved hand and runs his fingers down the right side of his mask as he starts to laugh, again. This time, stepping back from the camera as his laugh goes from low and quiet to full-on loud and outright maniacal. A laugh that continues as he steps out of the camera frame and continues down the hallway....
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Kenny Omega defeated Judas Lasher, by pinfall in 17:58, after landing two consecutive V-Triggers, and then finishing off the King of Pain with the One Winged Angel.
Reynolds: "HOLY CRAP, NICKY!!"
Hanson: "OMEGA BEATS LASHER?!"
Reynolds: "WOW!!!"
Hanson: "KENNY OMEGA...JUST DEFEATED JUDAS LASHER!! HOW THE HELL DID HE DO IT?!"
Reynolds: "TALK ABOUT DIGGING DEEP!!"
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[10/1/2018 - DAY 5 - A BLOCK]
*The screen fades from black to show Rick Dickulous' smiling face. As he backs up, the familiar backstage interview area can be seen. He stands in front of the tournament backdrop and shoots finger guns at the camera. In white, computer generated text reads: Vlad Blackheart Memorial Tournament - A Bracket, Day 5; Rick Dickulous v. Shelton Benjamin*
"I've wanted to do that since this thing started guy! Get my grill all up in the camera like that, eh?"
*Rick's infectious smle beams from his face as he catches his breath*
"Shelton-guy! Buddy! That right there was fucking gold, eh? If that wasn't the best match of the night, Kota and The Missisauga Menace have a LOT to live up to. Look, if you want, come by the dressing room and watch the last match, I've got some OG Kush with your name on it, friend!"
"I guess this is where I talk about Wednesday, right?"
*Rick looks inquisitively off camera. He nods in the same direction and gives a thumbs up, then looks back into the camera*
"So, Wednesday I get to take on Chris Wolfe...I called it with Ron MacLean, guy! That dude's kicking some major ass - and he's actually pretty cool too. Not like when your mom tells you you're cool, guy, we all know that's a lie. I mean he's not all fucking full of himself, and guy can actually hold a conversation!"
"But, hey, even though you're cool, Chris-guy, we're both after the same thing...so Wednesday we're gonna tear it up like a virgin on prom night! Let's give these people a night to remember, buddy! Rick Dickulous. Chris Wolfe. Match of the fucking YEAR, guy!"
*Rick tosses a double thums up, then excitedly extends his finger*
"Oh-oh-ohhh! I almost forgot!"
*Rick makes a heart shape with his hands and taps his chest with it twice*
"I promised on Twitter that I was dedicating this match to someone, guy! Alex Brody, buddy? That one was for you! Thanks for believing in me, eh? I'll do my best to keep those Ws coming!"
*The screen fades to black as Rick walks off camera towards the backstage area*
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Tama Tonga defeated Minoru Suzuki in their block match, by pinfall in 12:00 flat, after hitting a Gun Stun, picking him back up onto his feet and hitting one more Gun Stun for good measure.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[10/1/2018 - DAY 5 - A BLOCK]
"Top Of The World" by Five Finger Death Punch plays out in the arena as Max LeBrun emerges through the curtain, following his win over Kota Ibushi. Stopping in front of the backdrop with an arrogant smile on his face, he motions for the interviewers to bring the questions.
"Alright, let's hear it." He says. "What do you vultures wanna know? How do I feel about that match? Oh, I feel DAMN GOOD!!" He shouts, laughing. "I told you I was gonna do it, didn't I? I *told* you I was gonna take out the Golden Star! One of the greatest stars to come out of Japan! Well he just met his match against the greatest star to come out of Canada!" His smile changes into a thoughtful expression as he raises a finger. "Well, one of the greatest. I can't take away from the icons that have come and gone from my country. Two of them are no longer with us." He pounds his chest and looks up at the sky. "Owen! Chris! This one's for you guys!" He looks back towards the interviewers. "Yeah, I paid respect where it's due. Fuck anyone who says different. Then there's Bret. His career got cut short by one of the sorriest motherfuckers to ever lace up a pair of wrestling boots. And shit, Davey Jr?" He thumbed down the hallway. "I'll be honest. That's one guy I hope I never have to square up against. That is a big, mean, nasty motherfucker! Damn shame he's running with another washed up old-timer but, hey, that's his perogative."
"Great match, Max." One reporter says.
"Pfft. Uhh...thanks, I guess?" Max says, looking the interviewer over in disgust. "I know it was a great match! That's what I do. I put on great matches, and I get shit done!"
"So, you're prepared to defend your championship against Chris Wolfe?"
Max starts unstrapping his gloves and pulling his bicep sleeve off. "I said I was ready, didn't I?" Max raises his eyebrows. "Chris Wolfe can fucking bring it whenever he's ready. Anytime, any place, hell any match he wants! Next question!"
"Max, your next match for the tournament is against Kane." Another reporter chimes in, causing the smile to wash right off of Max's face as he looks over in her direction. "You have a history with him, dating back to your matches in this very company thirteen years ago. However, you've yet to ever beat him. Are you ready for that match?"
Max paused for a brief moment, glaring at the interviewers. "Next question." He says, being answered with silence on the part of the reporters. Max shakes his head in disbelief. "That's all you've got? Am I ready for Kane? Give me a damn break...." Max says, shaking his head again and walking off down the hallway....
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In the main event, Big Daddy Payne defeated Curry Man in their block match, by pinfall in 15:11, after hitting him with the Bukakke Blast.
Hanson: "Welp! We knew one of these two was gonna make it on the board and, as it turns out, it's the other half of the Tag Team Champions!"
Reynolds: "What a match, Nicky!"
As BDP got to his feet, he called for the microphone, tapping it a few times before speaking. "Cut the music!" He yelled, turning as the music stopped, to help Curry Man to his feet. Giving a respectful handshake and hug to the other man, he then took a few seconds to catch his breath before speaking his mind.
"Tonight... was a nice little blast from the past. A reminder of why I'm in this thing to begin with. That man leaving the ring right now... he may be Curry Man as a tribute to the times he spent with Eazy V, but goddammit, as you all know that's Christopher Daniels, one of the most talented bastards I've ever been in a ring with. Forget the comedy gimmick... beating him tonight is a truly humbling honor."
He paused, giving the crowd a minute to show appreciation to Curry Man as he walked up the aisle.
"I tend to disagree with Judas Lasher on... well... damn near everything. If my wife wasn't his best friend, we'd probably never even talk. But he was right about one thing: what this tournament means to us. Me and Vlad... we did it all, man. We had one of the hottest feuds in history. We had some of the funniest segments ever made. Right before he died... we had made plans to team up in Japan for a while, calling ourselves The Wild Side. Don't ask, you know how he loved The Crue. Anyway... that man deserves this tournament. He deserves every accolade we can give him. He was a good man, a good husband, and a good father."
Pausing as the crowd cheered, he held a hand up to quiet them down.
"I just wanted to thank you all. For supporting this, for showing Vlad and his family the respect they deserve... and for being the best goddamn fans in the world. This is all for you, Vlad." He said, pointing up to the sky. "We love you, bro."
Reynolds: "How 'bout that, Nicky?"
Hanson: "We've got two guys in this tournament, Jim, that I think wanna win this more than anybody else. One of them's that man right there, Big Daddy Payne. The other; Judas Lasher, who's been like a man possessed when it comes to winning this whole thing."
Reynolds: "Y'know, it's kinda ironic, if ya think about it. Lasher suffered his first loss and Payne scored his first win, both in the same night. Think that's a sign?"
Hanson: "Crazier things have happened, Jim, but only time will tell. Unfortunately, that's all the time we have for today, folks! We hope you enjoyed the show and we'll see you back here, tomorrow, as A Block returns. You wanna talk about a card stacked with main event caliber matches? Wait'll you see what we've got tomorrow."
Reynolds: "Aw, c'mon. Run 'em through it, Nicky!"
Hanson: *laughing* "We'll be seeing Matt Klazzic trying to pick up his first win against the Buzzsaw; a man who's been like a man on a war path against...well...everyone! We've got the Urban Gladiator versus the Submission Artist - Nico Salvatore and Zack Sabre Jr. Max LeBrun takes on Kane, Chris Wolfe takes on Rick Dickulous and in our main event, two of the all time greats from either end of the Pacific, Shelton Benjamin takes on "The Golden Star" Kota Ibushi. Tomorrow's gonna be wild!"
Reynolds: "I can't wait!"
Hanson: "Me neither, Jim! Say, real quick, what happened with you and Eric from booking, earlier?"
Reynolds: "Oh yeah! I stabbed him in the face with a soldering iron!" *Jim says, back to his Christopher Walken impersonation*
Hanson: "...Seriously?"
Reynolds: "Good night, folks!"
"I've wanted to do that since this thing started guy! Get my grill all up in the camera like that, eh?"
*Rick's infectious smle beams from his face as he catches his breath*
"Shelton-guy! Buddy! That right there was fucking gold, eh? If that wasn't the best match of the night, Kota and The Missisauga Menace have a LOT to live up to. Look, if you want, come by the dressing room and watch the last match, I've got some OG Kush with your name on it, friend!"
"I guess this is where I talk about Wednesday, right?"
*Rick looks inquisitively off camera. He nods in the same direction and gives a thumbs up, then looks back into the camera*
"So, Wednesday I get to take on Chris Wolfe...I called it with Ron MacLean, guy! That dude's kicking some major ass - and he's actually pretty cool too. Not like when your mom tells you you're cool, guy, we all know that's a lie. I mean he's not all fucking full of himself, and guy can actually hold a conversation!"
"But, hey, even though you're cool, Chris-guy, we're both after the same thing...so Wednesday we're gonna tear it up like a virgin on prom night! Let's give these people a night to remember, buddy! Rick Dickulous. Chris Wolfe. Match of the fucking YEAR, guy!"
*Rick tosses a double thums up, then excitedly extends his finger*
"Oh-oh-ohhh! I almost forgot!"
*Rick makes a heart shape with his hands and taps his chest with it twice*
"I promised on Twitter that I was dedicating this match to someone, guy! Alex Brody, buddy? That one was for you! Thanks for believing in me, eh? I'll do my best to keep those Ws coming!"
*The screen fades to black as Rick walks off camera towards the backstage area*
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Tama Tonga defeated Minoru Suzuki in their block match, by pinfall in 12:00 flat, after hitting a Gun Stun, picking him back up onto his feet and hitting one more Gun Stun for good measure.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[10/1/2018 - DAY 5 - A BLOCK]
"Top Of The World" by Five Finger Death Punch plays out in the arena as Max LeBrun emerges through the curtain, following his win over Kota Ibushi. Stopping in front of the backdrop with an arrogant smile on his face, he motions for the interviewers to bring the questions.
"Alright, let's hear it." He says. "What do you vultures wanna know? How do I feel about that match? Oh, I feel DAMN GOOD!!" He shouts, laughing. "I told you I was gonna do it, didn't I? I *told* you I was gonna take out the Golden Star! One of the greatest stars to come out of Japan! Well he just met his match against the greatest star to come out of Canada!" His smile changes into a thoughtful expression as he raises a finger. "Well, one of the greatest. I can't take away from the icons that have come and gone from my country. Two of them are no longer with us." He pounds his chest and looks up at the sky. "Owen! Chris! This one's for you guys!" He looks back towards the interviewers. "Yeah, I paid respect where it's due. Fuck anyone who says different. Then there's Bret. His career got cut short by one of the sorriest motherfuckers to ever lace up a pair of wrestling boots. And shit, Davey Jr?" He thumbed down the hallway. "I'll be honest. That's one guy I hope I never have to square up against. That is a big, mean, nasty motherfucker! Damn shame he's running with another washed up old-timer but, hey, that's his perogative."
"Great match, Max." One reporter says.
"Pfft. Uhh...thanks, I guess?" Max says, looking the interviewer over in disgust. "I know it was a great match! That's what I do. I put on great matches, and I get shit done!"
"So, you're prepared to defend your championship against Chris Wolfe?"
Max starts unstrapping his gloves and pulling his bicep sleeve off. "I said I was ready, didn't I?" Max raises his eyebrows. "Chris Wolfe can fucking bring it whenever he's ready. Anytime, any place, hell any match he wants! Next question!"
"Max, your next match for the tournament is against Kane." Another reporter chimes in, causing the smile to wash right off of Max's face as he looks over in her direction. "You have a history with him, dating back to your matches in this very company thirteen years ago. However, you've yet to ever beat him. Are you ready for that match?"
Max paused for a brief moment, glaring at the interviewers. "Next question." He says, being answered with silence on the part of the reporters. Max shakes his head in disbelief. "That's all you've got? Am I ready for Kane? Give me a damn break...." Max says, shaking his head again and walking off down the hallway....
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In the main event, Big Daddy Payne defeated Curry Man in their block match, by pinfall in 15:11, after hitting him with the Bukakke Blast.
Hanson: "Welp! We knew one of these two was gonna make it on the board and, as it turns out, it's the other half of the Tag Team Champions!"
Reynolds: "What a match, Nicky!"
As BDP got to his feet, he called for the microphone, tapping it a few times before speaking. "Cut the music!" He yelled, turning as the music stopped, to help Curry Man to his feet. Giving a respectful handshake and hug to the other man, he then took a few seconds to catch his breath before speaking his mind.
"Tonight... was a nice little blast from the past. A reminder of why I'm in this thing to begin with. That man leaving the ring right now... he may be Curry Man as a tribute to the times he spent with Eazy V, but goddammit, as you all know that's Christopher Daniels, one of the most talented bastards I've ever been in a ring with. Forget the comedy gimmick... beating him tonight is a truly humbling honor."
He paused, giving the crowd a minute to show appreciation to Curry Man as he walked up the aisle.
"I tend to disagree with Judas Lasher on... well... damn near everything. If my wife wasn't his best friend, we'd probably never even talk. But he was right about one thing: what this tournament means to us. Me and Vlad... we did it all, man. We had one of the hottest feuds in history. We had some of the funniest segments ever made. Right before he died... we had made plans to team up in Japan for a while, calling ourselves The Wild Side. Don't ask, you know how he loved The Crue. Anyway... that man deserves this tournament. He deserves every accolade we can give him. He was a good man, a good husband, and a good father."
Pausing as the crowd cheered, he held a hand up to quiet them down.
"I just wanted to thank you all. For supporting this, for showing Vlad and his family the respect they deserve... and for being the best goddamn fans in the world. This is all for you, Vlad." He said, pointing up to the sky. "We love you, bro."
Reynolds: "How 'bout that, Nicky?"
Hanson: "We've got two guys in this tournament, Jim, that I think wanna win this more than anybody else. One of them's that man right there, Big Daddy Payne. The other; Judas Lasher, who's been like a man possessed when it comes to winning this whole thing."
Reynolds: "Y'know, it's kinda ironic, if ya think about it. Lasher suffered his first loss and Payne scored his first win, both in the same night. Think that's a sign?"
Hanson: "Crazier things have happened, Jim, but only time will tell. Unfortunately, that's all the time we have for today, folks! We hope you enjoyed the show and we'll see you back here, tomorrow, as A Block returns. You wanna talk about a card stacked with main event caliber matches? Wait'll you see what we've got tomorrow."
Reynolds: "Aw, c'mon. Run 'em through it, Nicky!"
Hanson: *laughing* "We'll be seeing Matt Klazzic trying to pick up his first win against the Buzzsaw; a man who's been like a man on a war path against...well...everyone! We've got the Urban Gladiator versus the Submission Artist - Nico Salvatore and Zack Sabre Jr. Max LeBrun takes on Kane, Chris Wolfe takes on Rick Dickulous and in our main event, two of the all time greats from either end of the Pacific, Shelton Benjamin takes on "The Golden Star" Kota Ibushi. Tomorrow's gonna be wild!"
Reynolds: "I can't wait!"
Hanson: "Me neither, Jim! Say, real quick, what happened with you and Eric from booking, earlier?"
Reynolds: "Oh yeah! I stabbed him in the face with a soldering iron!" *Jim says, back to his Christopher Walken impersonation*
Hanson: "...Seriously?"
Reynolds: "Good night, folks!"
