Post by Steven Brody, CEO on Oct 4, 2018 8:07:34 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.
Reynolds: "Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, children of all ages! New Frontier Wrestling, PROUDLY brings to you---"
Hanson: "Jim, you're gonna get us hit with a copyright."
Reynolds: "The hell you talking about?"
Hanson: "Just trust me. This is why I handle the greeting part of our job."
Reynolds: "Whatever...asshole."
Hanson: "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen! Welcome, once more, to the Vlad Blackheart Memorial Tournament! We're just about halfway through and man have we had a wild ride thus far!"
Reynolds: "I think this tournament gets better and better each night, Nicky."
Hanson: "I have to agree with you, Jim. Just when it seems we've had the best card of matches, the next day rolls around and it gets even better."
Reynolds: "Yesterday was crazy, wasn't it?"
Hanson: "To put it lightly. Crazy is an understatement for everything we saw yesterday. But, the best part is? We're just barely halfway done! We've still got another ten days to go plus the finals!"
Reynolds: "Can't wait!"
Hanson: "Neither can I, Jim! With that, let's get ready for our first match-up!"
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[10/3/2018 - DAY 7 - A BLOCK]
Following yesterday's brutal scene where Doomsday attacked William Mannheim after Ultra-Violence's match with the Army of Darkness, Doomsday leads the way for he and Belphegor through the curtain, coming into the backstage area. A reporter stops them as they pass.
"Doomsday! Doomsday, a word please?"
Doomsday stops and looks towards the reporters. He says nothing, at first.
"We just would like to know, what was the motivation behind your attack on William Mannheim, following the match?"
Doomsday silently looks back and forth between the several offscreen reporters. His chest rising and falling as he breathes under his mask. "Why don't you ask his son?" He responds, and turns, walking down the hallway with Belphegor, leaving the reporters stumped....
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[10/3/2018 - DAY 7 - A BLOCK]
*Rick Dickulous winces in pain in front of the Vlad Blackheart Memorial Tournament backdrop, catching his breath he flashes a smile and a quick thumbs up at the camera*
"I don't have much to say about that last match, eh? Chris-guy, good work, buddy! Now we get to have another match!"
"What I really want to talk about though is Doomsday, eh? Guy, do you really, honestly think I'm gonna back down? You and your bullying? That doesn't scare me, at all guy."
*Rick points into the camera*
"If you want a piece of me, Doomsday-guy? Come get the whole fucking package. YOU started this, and I intend to finish it, buddy...and whether Brody likes it or not, it's gonna come down to you and I and a world of pain for whoever gets between us, eh?"
"You keep questioning why I can't just leave it alone, friend? Why I can't just roll over and pretend nothing happened? Because if I do that, buddy, I become a doormat. Rick don't play that - lesson taught by my father, guy."
"So, you want me, Doomsday? You know where to find me, guy. Who knows, maybe I'll find you first...and if so? Sorry, not sorry...Brody's gonna have a mess to clean up."
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In the opening match of the night, Ultra-Violence defeated the Killer Elite Squad, by pinfall in 10:05, when Doomsday pinned Lance Archer after he and Belphegor delivered a double chokeslam.
Seconds into Ultra-Violence's post-match celebration, the crowd gave a pop as Rick Dickulous and Pitt came rushing down the ramp, towards the ring.
Reynolds: "WHAT THE HELL, JIM, WATCH OUT!!"
Hanson: "RICK DICKULOUS AND PITT, FROM THE GREAT WHITE NORTH!! WHAT ARE THEY DOING DOWN HERE?!"
Immediately after sliding into the ring, the two from GWN went right at Ultra-Violence; the four men breaking off into two separate brawls with Doomsday and Belphegor fighting back, on the defense this time. Security immediately rushed the ring, trying to break the four men apart. They had an easier time separating Pitt and Belphegor, as enough men got in between them after a moment to make the two back off, from each other.
Trying to separate Rick and Doomsday, however, proved a near impossible task, as both men began taking shots at the security staff that tried to pull them apart, only to go right back at each other with their brawl taking them outside of the ring and at ringside.
Hanson: "Someone's gotta stop these two!"
Reynolds: "These guys are laying out security left and right just to get at each other! Where the hell are the rest of their team mates?! They need to be broken up!"
"ENOUGH!!! ENOUGH!!!!" A voice SHOUTED throughout the speakers. "GODDAMN IT, ENOUGH!!!!!"
Doomsday and Rick continued to trade shots as Commissioner Steven Brody came storming out onto the stage, clutching a microphone with a white knuckled grip.
"I SAID THAT'S ENOUGH!!!! BOTH OF YOU!!!!"
Finally, security managed to come in between the two as they ceased their fighting and both looked up the ramp at the furious Commissioner.
"YOU TWO -- RICK...DOOMSDAY -- YOU ARE MAKING A MOCKERY OF THIS TOURNAMENT, AND I AM SICK OF IT!!!!"
Crowd: "LET THEM FIGHT! LET THEM FIGHT! LET THEM FIGHT!"
"NO! SHUT UP!" Steven Brody snapped angrily before looking back down the ramp at the two big men. "I want both of you to listen up, and listen very goddamn carefully! I am more than one hundred percent serious! This?" He motions between Rick and Doomsday. "This shit, right here? The mind games, the antics, the pranks, the brawling like a couple of wild dogs? It stops right here...RIGHT NOW!! For the rest of the duration of this tournament...if either one of you so much as lays a FINGER on one another, outside of a booked match, then Rick -- I will strip your ass of that championship and terminate your contract with this company! Doomsday? I'll see to it you never get booked at an NFW event AGAIN!! You can take your ass and wreak havoc at some other promotion, but I will NOT have you SHITTING on this tournament nor this company, any longer!! DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?!"
Rick, as might have been expected, responded with a big grin and a thumbs up to Brody, while Doomsday pushed his hair out of his face and motioned for Belphegor to join him and the Ultra-Violence duo made their exit up the ramp with Doomsday brushing right passed Brody on their way backstage....
Reynolds: "Wow, Nicky."
Hanson: "Welp! I said it before, I had faith in Commissioner Brody bringing this matter to a close!"
Reynolds: "And he certainly did! These guys are fired from NFW if they so much as spit on each other! Might be best if they just avoid one another, all together, Nicky."
Hanson: "You might be right, Jim."
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In the eight-woman, preliminary tag team match, Merlex and The Unwanted defeated The Iron Maidens, Lara Blackheart and Shelley Silver, by pinfall in 16:39 when Mia Hayashi hit Marissa Payne with the Supreme Thunder to make the cover.
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In the final preliminary tag match, despite several hearty efforts to distract them by the gorgeous Pieter, The Renegades defeated The Bullet Club Elite, by pinfall in 12:03, when Tyson Law hit Chase Owens with the Lawbreaker and made the cover. All was well, despite the loss as Pieter buttered the Elite team up with sympathy, leaving them with comical, lovestruck looks on their faces as they took the walk down the crowd aisle. Yujiro Takahashi threw the camera an 'A-Ok' and a 'too sweet' while pointing at Pieter's backside as they made their exit.
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Reynolds: "Nicky, I hate to see Pieter go, but I love to watch her leave, if ya get my meaning."
Hanson: "Aren't you married?"
Reynolds: "Unfortunately...."
Hanson: "Wow, Jim, you---"
Reynolds: "Anyway! It's time for B Block, right?"
Hanson: "...Yeah, sure. You wanna do the honors, this time?"
Reynolds: "I suck at math. Have at it, buddy."
Hanson: *clearing his throat* "Ahem, alright then. Kenny Omega and EVIL lead the block with six points, each. William Mannheim and Judas Lasher come in behind them with four points, each. Then there's Scott Leroux, Big Daddy Payne, Tama Tonga, Andrew Payne and Minoru Suzuki, all with two points. Curry Man is still at zero."
Reynolds: "Well, I guess each block is gonna have that guy who's struggling to make their mark."
Hanson: "I guess you could put it that way. But, no time for dwelling on it. It's time for more tournament competition, folks. Let's take it to Sam Bedlam in the ring!"
The camera cuts to inside the ring, as announcer Sam Bedlam begins by announcing the start of tonight's B Block.
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"The Punisher" Andrew Payne defeated EVIL in their block match, by pinfall in 13:32, when he twisted out of the setup for Everything Is Evil, hoisted EVIL up and drove him down to the canvas with the 11th Hour.
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[10/3/2018 - DAY 7 - A BLOCK]
"Come And Get It" by I Prevail is heard out in the arena as Nico Salvatore returns backstage from his match with Zack Sabre Jr. Smirking a little arrogantly at the camera, he proceeds to dusts his hands off as he walks right up to the camera itself...and raises up one hand with three fingers - his index, middle and pinky - extended while his ring finger is tucked down. Nico winks and clicks his tongue before stepping out of frame.
A few seconds pass before, suddenly we hear....
"Nah, y'know what? I'm not done!" Suddenly, Nico comes stepping back into the frame as he's unwrapping the tape off of his fists. He pauses for a moment to finish unwrapping his hands as he thinks for a moment. "Zack...." Nico looks up, balling up the wads of tape and tosses them over the camera man's shoulder, never breaking his gaze from the camera. "You did some shit that I didn't think you could do. You took me to my limit. You weren't the first. And who knows? Maybe you won't be the last. But I have to give you props. I didn't think you could do it. Who knows? Maybe I'm getting too full of myself. I beat one of Japan's best in my first block match, and then in my second, I beat one of the biggest, meanest motherfuckers in this business in under ten minutes. So yeah, maybe it went to my head. But ya know what? I'm not gonna regret that. I said I was the greatest son of a bitch alive and I firmly believe it. Buzzsaw beat me on a technicality. He squeezed the oxygen out of me until I passed out, but I have yet to be pinned in this tournament! And that's something I plan on maintaining. But, I'll give kudos where kudos are due. For a stringy little vegan f'nuc, you know how to put the hurt on someone."
"Toss me a water." Nico pauses, reaching out and catches a water from a reporter before taking a moment to notice them offscreen. In a nearly comedic fashion, his eyebrows raise some. "Fuck me, you're gorgeous. The hell are you doin' working this job?" He twists the bottle open and takes a long sip before pouring some into his hand and runs it over his face and neck. "Anyway, where was I? Oh, yeah. So next week...." He looks down, thoughtfully, sipping his water. "Day 9...we'll be in the Bronx. Fuckin' love it there. Chris Wolfe." He raises his eyes to the camera. "I'm gonna be straight with you, brother. You ran with my sister in the Circle of Snakes. That pezzo di merda, Abaddon, got what was comin' to him. You and your boy Tyler, though, you played it straight and always had Adrianna's back. For that, I'm grateful." He extends the index finger of his hand that holds his water bottle. "But...make no mistake...I came here to win. I know *you* came here to win. Unfortunately, we can't both go to the finals. I'm thankful for how you've been to my blood, but I'm sure you know I didn't come here to make friends. Friendships ain't gonna win any of us that trophy, and it damn sure ain't gonna win any of us that contract. So, I just wanna make sure you know that when we square up in that ring, and it comes down to knuckles, it ain't personal. Not with you, at least. I'm coming at you with every ounce of my being and, brother, you sure as shit better come at me with all of yours." Sipping his water, he spreads both arms as his expression softens a little. "Hey. We're both from Brooklyn, right? Let's show everyone how Brooklyn boys handle their fuckin' business, a'right? I'll catch ya in the Bronx, Wolfman."
Clicking his tongue at the camera, Nico immediately turns in the direction of the reporter he briefly flirted with a moment ago. "Hey, hold up a sec. What's your name, beautiful?"
"Um...Maria."
"Maria?" Nico's voice says offscreen. "That's beautiful. You Italian?"
The shot cuts to black and back to ringside on the present day.
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Scott Leroux defeated William Mannheim in their block match, by pinfall in 16:20, after somehow managing to get the much bigger man up in order to deliver a Corkscrew Nailbomb.
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Curry Man shocked the entire arena, defeating Kenny Omega in their block match, by pinfall in 17:12, when he slipped off of Omega's shoulders during an attempt at the One Winged Angel and scooped him up onto his shoulders and drove him onto his neck with the Spicy Drop.
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[10/3/2018 - DAY 7 - A BLOCK]
The camera shot opens on the backdrop as the sound of "Top Of The World" by Five Finger Death Punch can be heard out in the arena. A moment passes before we hear slow, labored breathing and a familiar hand in a black and red glove with a "DAREDEVIL" bicep guard comes into frame, bracing against the backdrop.
Slowly, Max LeBrun comes into frame with his other arm over the shoulder of Candi Broduer. "I'm fine, right here." He exchanges a look with Candi and nods silently to her, reassuringly. The welts and bruises are already forming across his chest. He takes the ice pack from Candi and keeps it pressed against his head where he was lacerated. Max back against the backdrop and slides down into a sitting position on the floor. A pair of legs in pants that we can only assume is Julian Morrison steps into frame long enough for the person to hand the Heavyweight Championship down to Max, who sets it in his lap. Max leans his head against the backdrop and closes his eyes, sighing with relief.
"Max LeBrun; congratulations on your win, tonight." A reporter finally says, breaking the silence.
This gives Max a second, albeit short wind as the remark earns an amused laugh from him, even though doing so causes him to wince slightly. "Ugh...'congratulations on my win'. Hell, that wasn't just a win. That was a fucking victory." He takes a bottle of water from someone and sips on it. "A victory that I've been waiting for, for over thirteen goddamn years...."
"What did you feel going into that match, tonight?"
"What did I feel...?" Max looks down at his lap, thoughtfully. "Honestly? I can't truthfully say that I've ever felt pure hatred for anyone before tonight...." He sips his water again. "I spent all day keeping a cool head. I never let my emotions get the better of me. Even watching his other matches from this tournament, on a screen, I managed to stay level headed. But that all changed when I heard that music and saw that big, red motherfucker coming down the walkway. My blood boiled over instantly and I couldn't control myself, anymore."
"That's why you kicked off the match the way you did." A reporter said, asking for confirmation.
Max nods. "That's why I instantly reminded that son of a bitch who I am." Max begins pushing himself up, accepting help from Candi and Julian until he's standing with his water bottle in one hand and the championship in the other. "That's why I showed his old ass that -- even after what happened in our last meeting -- I'm not afraid of him! I proved to Kane and I proved to the entire world tonight, that I'm the real fucking deal! The whole fucking show! He says he came here because he wanted another round with me?" Max looks directly into the camera. "Well, you got your round, Kane! What did it get you? Not a damn thing! Except the proof that you just don't fucking have it anymore! Just like the rest of these washed up bastards that me and the others came here to knock off their pedestals! You need to hang up your boots, take off the mask -- actually keep the mask on, you look a lot better with it. Without it, you look like Dr. Frankenstein spliced DNA from Sloth and Uncle Fester. But anyway! Hang up your boots, and step aside for the men and women that are gonna take this business forward into the new era! Because if you don't step aside -- I'll tell you just like I've been telling the 'veterans' and 'legends' here in NFW - that's where we come in. That's where The Renegades come in." He jabs his finger towards the camera. "We will run your ass down, and the deserving stars will use your broken mass as a ladder to get where they wanna be. Where they *need* to be!"
"Max, if you don't mind, how about your next match coming up next week?"
Max looks at the reporter and frowns with disinterest. "What about it?"
"Well, you're facing off against Rick Dickulous."
"Pfft! Fuck him!" Max makes a face that says 'as if I'm supposed to care?'
"Well, he's said before that he's looking forward to---"
"Looking forward to what? Getting his ass kicked?" Max nonchalantly shrugs one shoulder. "Getting his fucking teeth kicked in? Getting his jaw broke? He likes to study up on where people grew up, where they came from and try to use it against them like some cute little elementary school zinger." Max makes a mocking face and wiggles his fingers at the camera. "'Ooooh, hey guy! Max LeBrun's from fuckin' Missisauga, buddy! He's the Missisauga Menace, eh?!'" Max drops the mockery and turns serious as he looks at the camera. "I seriously don't get you, Rick. And maybe that's what annoys me the most, about you. Yeah, I am from Missisauga, Ontario. You know what we have there? Google it. We have fucking *civilization*! You? I seem to recall your old man telling Brody that getting a hold of you might be a little difficult, because you don't get good reception in the rockies. The rockies, Rick! You live in the mountains like a fucking hermit from an R.L Stein book and you wanna shit on people from the city. And to make matters worse, you're the poster boy as to why other shitbag countries like to mock us because you perpetuate every--fucking--stereotype for Canadian people! To be honest, motherfuckers like you make me sick and I'm looking forward to kicking that mongloid smile right off of your fucking face next week!" He turns to Candi and Julian, offscreen and motions that it's time to leave. "Let's get outta here." He says, shoving a reporter aside, roughly. "Get the fuck out of my way!" The camera captures the three walking down the hall, Max still needing support from his stable mates, as the shot fades out.
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Judas Lasher defeated Tama Tonga in their block match, by pinfall in 11:58 when Tonga went for the Gun Stun, only to be shoved forward, causing him to bounce off of the ropes and right into Lucifer's Halo. As the referee raised Lasher's arm in the ring, while Tama Tonga started to get back up to his feet, Judas Lasher sprung into action and snapped him down to the mat again with another Lucifer's Halo before finally letting him be.
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In the main event of the evening, Minoru Suzuki defeated Big Daddy Payne in their block match, by submission in 14:01. From the start of the bell, after the initial rush of blows being traded back and forth, Suzuki went right for BDP's knee and proceeded to work it over for the majority of the match and finally locking in an Inverted Indian Deathlock.
*After the match, Suzuki is given the mic from Paul Heyman as both Heyman and Taka Michinoku join Suzuki in the ring. Suzuki looks at the crowd with disdain before looking down at BDP being helped out of the ring and into the back by ring attendants.*
"Sōda, sono gomi o torinozoku. Kare o watashi no me no mae kara dete, watashi no ringu kara hanashite kudasai. Watashi wa anata ga subete no bakananode, hai man ga watashi no tame ni hanasu koto o kyoka shimasen, anata wa watashi ga eigo ni iu koto o hon'yaku suru ni ataisuru monode wa arimasen. Anata wa sono baka omega ga anata no tame ni sore o suru koto ga dekimasu," Suzuki says with a chuckle as he and Heyman exchange glances and Heyman smiles and nods approvingly as they are all joined by K.E.S., Havok, Shingo Takagi, Zack Sabre, Jr., T-Hawk, and Taichi, wearing their matching Suzuki-gun black and white track suits.
"Ima, watashi o kashō hyōka shitai hito wa imasu ka? Senaka ni darekaga imasu ka? Moshi sōnara, anata no jikan wa sugu ni kurudeshou. Anata wa kon'ya senaka ni okura reta futotta shiroi buta no yō ni, hontō no itami ga don'na kanji ka wakarimasu. Kare no ashikubi to ashi ga hibiware shi tari, jintai ga nobite sake tari suru no o dono yō ni kanjiru ka o kiite mite kudasai. BDP, anata wa bakadesu. Dono yō ni anata no yōna dare mo chanpiondatta watashi wa sore o haaku suru koto wa arimasen. Soshite, anata no fan wa, kare o ōen shi, kon'ya watashi no shōri no tame ni watashi o ōen suru tame no sarani ōkina baka no settodesu. Subete no koto ga owaru to, naze watashi wa puroresu ringu no ōda, soshite naze Suzuki-gun ICHIBAN!!!" Suzuki says defiantly as both he, Heyman, and the other members of Suzuki-gun all hold up one finger while Taka Michinoku crouches in front and unfurls the Suzuki-gun flag as 'Kaze Ni Nare" starts to play.
Reynolds: "Did you get any of that, Nicky?"
Hanson: "My Japanese isn't too up to par, Jim, but I can guess none of what he said was all too nice."
Reynolds: "Fair enough."
Hanson: "Well folks, we hope you enjoyed tonight's set of matches and we look forward to having you join us next week in the Bronx as the Vlad Blackheart Memorial Tournament continues! Good night, everyone!"
~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: "Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, children of all ages! New Frontier Wrestling, PROUDLY brings to you---"
Hanson: "Jim, you're gonna get us hit with a copyright."
Reynolds: "The hell you talking about?"
Hanson: "Just trust me. This is why I handle the greeting part of our job."
Reynolds: "Whatever...asshole."
Hanson: "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen! Welcome, once more, to the Vlad Blackheart Memorial Tournament! We're just about halfway through and man have we had a wild ride thus far!"
Reynolds: "I think this tournament gets better and better each night, Nicky."
Hanson: "I have to agree with you, Jim. Just when it seems we've had the best card of matches, the next day rolls around and it gets even better."
Reynolds: "Yesterday was crazy, wasn't it?"
Hanson: "To put it lightly. Crazy is an understatement for everything we saw yesterday. But, the best part is? We're just barely halfway done! We've still got another ten days to go plus the finals!"
Reynolds: "Can't wait!"
Hanson: "Neither can I, Jim! With that, let's get ready for our first match-up!"
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[10/3/2018 - DAY 7 - A BLOCK]
Following yesterday's brutal scene where Doomsday attacked William Mannheim after Ultra-Violence's match with the Army of Darkness, Doomsday leads the way for he and Belphegor through the curtain, coming into the backstage area. A reporter stops them as they pass.
"Doomsday! Doomsday, a word please?"
Doomsday stops and looks towards the reporters. He says nothing, at first.
"We just would like to know, what was the motivation behind your attack on William Mannheim, following the match?"
Doomsday silently looks back and forth between the several offscreen reporters. His chest rising and falling as he breathes under his mask. "Why don't you ask his son?" He responds, and turns, walking down the hallway with Belphegor, leaving the reporters stumped....
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[10/3/2018 - DAY 7 - A BLOCK]
*Rick Dickulous winces in pain in front of the Vlad Blackheart Memorial Tournament backdrop, catching his breath he flashes a smile and a quick thumbs up at the camera*
"I don't have much to say about that last match, eh? Chris-guy, good work, buddy! Now we get to have another match!"
"What I really want to talk about though is Doomsday, eh? Guy, do you really, honestly think I'm gonna back down? You and your bullying? That doesn't scare me, at all guy."
*Rick points into the camera*
"If you want a piece of me, Doomsday-guy? Come get the whole fucking package. YOU started this, and I intend to finish it, buddy...and whether Brody likes it or not, it's gonna come down to you and I and a world of pain for whoever gets between us, eh?"
"You keep questioning why I can't just leave it alone, friend? Why I can't just roll over and pretend nothing happened? Because if I do that, buddy, I become a doormat. Rick don't play that - lesson taught by my father, guy."
"So, you want me, Doomsday? You know where to find me, guy. Who knows, maybe I'll find you first...and if so? Sorry, not sorry...Brody's gonna have a mess to clean up."
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In the opening match of the night, Ultra-Violence defeated the Killer Elite Squad, by pinfall in 10:05, when Doomsday pinned Lance Archer after he and Belphegor delivered a double chokeslam.
Seconds into Ultra-Violence's post-match celebration, the crowd gave a pop as Rick Dickulous and Pitt came rushing down the ramp, towards the ring.
Reynolds: "WHAT THE HELL, JIM, WATCH OUT!!"
Hanson: "RICK DICKULOUS AND PITT, FROM THE GREAT WHITE NORTH!! WHAT ARE THEY DOING DOWN HERE?!"
Immediately after sliding into the ring, the two from GWN went right at Ultra-Violence; the four men breaking off into two separate brawls with Doomsday and Belphegor fighting back, on the defense this time. Security immediately rushed the ring, trying to break the four men apart. They had an easier time separating Pitt and Belphegor, as enough men got in between them after a moment to make the two back off, from each other.
Trying to separate Rick and Doomsday, however, proved a near impossible task, as both men began taking shots at the security staff that tried to pull them apart, only to go right back at each other with their brawl taking them outside of the ring and at ringside.
Hanson: "Someone's gotta stop these two!"
Reynolds: "These guys are laying out security left and right just to get at each other! Where the hell are the rest of their team mates?! They need to be broken up!"
"ENOUGH!!! ENOUGH!!!!" A voice SHOUTED throughout the speakers. "GODDAMN IT, ENOUGH!!!!!"
Doomsday and Rick continued to trade shots as Commissioner Steven Brody came storming out onto the stage, clutching a microphone with a white knuckled grip.
"I SAID THAT'S ENOUGH!!!! BOTH OF YOU!!!!"
Finally, security managed to come in between the two as they ceased their fighting and both looked up the ramp at the furious Commissioner.
"YOU TWO -- RICK...DOOMSDAY -- YOU ARE MAKING A MOCKERY OF THIS TOURNAMENT, AND I AM SICK OF IT!!!!"
Crowd: "LET THEM FIGHT! LET THEM FIGHT! LET THEM FIGHT!"
"NO! SHUT UP!" Steven Brody snapped angrily before looking back down the ramp at the two big men. "I want both of you to listen up, and listen very goddamn carefully! I am more than one hundred percent serious! This?" He motions between Rick and Doomsday. "This shit, right here? The mind games, the antics, the pranks, the brawling like a couple of wild dogs? It stops right here...RIGHT NOW!! For the rest of the duration of this tournament...if either one of you so much as lays a FINGER on one another, outside of a booked match, then Rick -- I will strip your ass of that championship and terminate your contract with this company! Doomsday? I'll see to it you never get booked at an NFW event AGAIN!! You can take your ass and wreak havoc at some other promotion, but I will NOT have you SHITTING on this tournament nor this company, any longer!! DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?!"
Rick, as might have been expected, responded with a big grin and a thumbs up to Brody, while Doomsday pushed his hair out of his face and motioned for Belphegor to join him and the Ultra-Violence duo made their exit up the ramp with Doomsday brushing right passed Brody on their way backstage....
Reynolds: "Wow, Nicky."
Hanson: "Welp! I said it before, I had faith in Commissioner Brody bringing this matter to a close!"
Reynolds: "And he certainly did! These guys are fired from NFW if they so much as spit on each other! Might be best if they just avoid one another, all together, Nicky."
Hanson: "You might be right, Jim."
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In the eight-woman, preliminary tag team match, Merlex and The Unwanted defeated The Iron Maidens, Lara Blackheart and Shelley Silver, by pinfall in 16:39 when Mia Hayashi hit Marissa Payne with the Supreme Thunder to make the cover.
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In the final preliminary tag match, despite several hearty efforts to distract them by the gorgeous Pieter, The Renegades defeated The Bullet Club Elite, by pinfall in 12:03, when Tyson Law hit Chase Owens with the Lawbreaker and made the cover. All was well, despite the loss as Pieter buttered the Elite team up with sympathy, leaving them with comical, lovestruck looks on their faces as they took the walk down the crowd aisle. Yujiro Takahashi threw the camera an 'A-Ok' and a 'too sweet' while pointing at Pieter's backside as they made their exit.
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Reynolds: "Nicky, I hate to see Pieter go, but I love to watch her leave, if ya get my meaning."
Hanson: "Aren't you married?"
Reynolds: "Unfortunately...."
Hanson: "Wow, Jim, you---"
Reynolds: "Anyway! It's time for B Block, right?"
Hanson: "...Yeah, sure. You wanna do the honors, this time?"
Reynolds: "I suck at math. Have at it, buddy."
Hanson: *clearing his throat* "Ahem, alright then. Kenny Omega and EVIL lead the block with six points, each. William Mannheim and Judas Lasher come in behind them with four points, each. Then there's Scott Leroux, Big Daddy Payne, Tama Tonga, Andrew Payne and Minoru Suzuki, all with two points. Curry Man is still at zero."
Reynolds: "Well, I guess each block is gonna have that guy who's struggling to make their mark."
Hanson: "I guess you could put it that way. But, no time for dwelling on it. It's time for more tournament competition, folks. Let's take it to Sam Bedlam in the ring!"
The camera cuts to inside the ring, as announcer Sam Bedlam begins by announcing the start of tonight's B Block.
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"The Punisher" Andrew Payne defeated EVIL in their block match, by pinfall in 13:32, when he twisted out of the setup for Everything Is Evil, hoisted EVIL up and drove him down to the canvas with the 11th Hour.
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[10/3/2018 - DAY 7 - A BLOCK]
"Come And Get It" by I Prevail is heard out in the arena as Nico Salvatore returns backstage from his match with Zack Sabre Jr. Smirking a little arrogantly at the camera, he proceeds to dusts his hands off as he walks right up to the camera itself...and raises up one hand with three fingers - his index, middle and pinky - extended while his ring finger is tucked down. Nico winks and clicks his tongue before stepping out of frame.
A few seconds pass before, suddenly we hear....
"Nah, y'know what? I'm not done!" Suddenly, Nico comes stepping back into the frame as he's unwrapping the tape off of his fists. He pauses for a moment to finish unwrapping his hands as he thinks for a moment. "Zack...." Nico looks up, balling up the wads of tape and tosses them over the camera man's shoulder, never breaking his gaze from the camera. "You did some shit that I didn't think you could do. You took me to my limit. You weren't the first. And who knows? Maybe you won't be the last. But I have to give you props. I didn't think you could do it. Who knows? Maybe I'm getting too full of myself. I beat one of Japan's best in my first block match, and then in my second, I beat one of the biggest, meanest motherfuckers in this business in under ten minutes. So yeah, maybe it went to my head. But ya know what? I'm not gonna regret that. I said I was the greatest son of a bitch alive and I firmly believe it. Buzzsaw beat me on a technicality. He squeezed the oxygen out of me until I passed out, but I have yet to be pinned in this tournament! And that's something I plan on maintaining. But, I'll give kudos where kudos are due. For a stringy little vegan f'nuc, you know how to put the hurt on someone."
"Toss me a water." Nico pauses, reaching out and catches a water from a reporter before taking a moment to notice them offscreen. In a nearly comedic fashion, his eyebrows raise some. "Fuck me, you're gorgeous. The hell are you doin' working this job?" He twists the bottle open and takes a long sip before pouring some into his hand and runs it over his face and neck. "Anyway, where was I? Oh, yeah. So next week...." He looks down, thoughtfully, sipping his water. "Day 9...we'll be in the Bronx. Fuckin' love it there. Chris Wolfe." He raises his eyes to the camera. "I'm gonna be straight with you, brother. You ran with my sister in the Circle of Snakes. That pezzo di merda, Abaddon, got what was comin' to him. You and your boy Tyler, though, you played it straight and always had Adrianna's back. For that, I'm grateful." He extends the index finger of his hand that holds his water bottle. "But...make no mistake...I came here to win. I know *you* came here to win. Unfortunately, we can't both go to the finals. I'm thankful for how you've been to my blood, but I'm sure you know I didn't come here to make friends. Friendships ain't gonna win any of us that trophy, and it damn sure ain't gonna win any of us that contract. So, I just wanna make sure you know that when we square up in that ring, and it comes down to knuckles, it ain't personal. Not with you, at least. I'm coming at you with every ounce of my being and, brother, you sure as shit better come at me with all of yours." Sipping his water, he spreads both arms as his expression softens a little. "Hey. We're both from Brooklyn, right? Let's show everyone how Brooklyn boys handle their fuckin' business, a'right? I'll catch ya in the Bronx, Wolfman."
Clicking his tongue at the camera, Nico immediately turns in the direction of the reporter he briefly flirted with a moment ago. "Hey, hold up a sec. What's your name, beautiful?"
"Um...Maria."
"Maria?" Nico's voice says offscreen. "That's beautiful. You Italian?"
The shot cuts to black and back to ringside on the present day.
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Scott Leroux defeated William Mannheim in their block match, by pinfall in 16:20, after somehow managing to get the much bigger man up in order to deliver a Corkscrew Nailbomb.
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Curry Man shocked the entire arena, defeating Kenny Omega in their block match, by pinfall in 17:12, when he slipped off of Omega's shoulders during an attempt at the One Winged Angel and scooped him up onto his shoulders and drove him onto his neck with the Spicy Drop.
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[10/3/2018 - DAY 7 - A BLOCK]
The camera shot opens on the backdrop as the sound of "Top Of The World" by Five Finger Death Punch can be heard out in the arena. A moment passes before we hear slow, labored breathing and a familiar hand in a black and red glove with a "DAREDEVIL" bicep guard comes into frame, bracing against the backdrop.
Slowly, Max LeBrun comes into frame with his other arm over the shoulder of Candi Broduer. "I'm fine, right here." He exchanges a look with Candi and nods silently to her, reassuringly. The welts and bruises are already forming across his chest. He takes the ice pack from Candi and keeps it pressed against his head where he was lacerated. Max back against the backdrop and slides down into a sitting position on the floor. A pair of legs in pants that we can only assume is Julian Morrison steps into frame long enough for the person to hand the Heavyweight Championship down to Max, who sets it in his lap. Max leans his head against the backdrop and closes his eyes, sighing with relief.
"Max LeBrun; congratulations on your win, tonight." A reporter finally says, breaking the silence.
This gives Max a second, albeit short wind as the remark earns an amused laugh from him, even though doing so causes him to wince slightly. "Ugh...'congratulations on my win'. Hell, that wasn't just a win. That was a fucking victory." He takes a bottle of water from someone and sips on it. "A victory that I've been waiting for, for over thirteen goddamn years...."
"What did you feel going into that match, tonight?"
"What did I feel...?" Max looks down at his lap, thoughtfully. "Honestly? I can't truthfully say that I've ever felt pure hatred for anyone before tonight...." He sips his water again. "I spent all day keeping a cool head. I never let my emotions get the better of me. Even watching his other matches from this tournament, on a screen, I managed to stay level headed. But that all changed when I heard that music and saw that big, red motherfucker coming down the walkway. My blood boiled over instantly and I couldn't control myself, anymore."
"That's why you kicked off the match the way you did." A reporter said, asking for confirmation.
Max nods. "That's why I instantly reminded that son of a bitch who I am." Max begins pushing himself up, accepting help from Candi and Julian until he's standing with his water bottle in one hand and the championship in the other. "That's why I showed his old ass that -- even after what happened in our last meeting -- I'm not afraid of him! I proved to Kane and I proved to the entire world tonight, that I'm the real fucking deal! The whole fucking show! He says he came here because he wanted another round with me?" Max looks directly into the camera. "Well, you got your round, Kane! What did it get you? Not a damn thing! Except the proof that you just don't fucking have it anymore! Just like the rest of these washed up bastards that me and the others came here to knock off their pedestals! You need to hang up your boots, take off the mask -- actually keep the mask on, you look a lot better with it. Without it, you look like Dr. Frankenstein spliced DNA from Sloth and Uncle Fester. But anyway! Hang up your boots, and step aside for the men and women that are gonna take this business forward into the new era! Because if you don't step aside -- I'll tell you just like I've been telling the 'veterans' and 'legends' here in NFW - that's where we come in. That's where The Renegades come in." He jabs his finger towards the camera. "We will run your ass down, and the deserving stars will use your broken mass as a ladder to get where they wanna be. Where they *need* to be!"
"Max, if you don't mind, how about your next match coming up next week?"
Max looks at the reporter and frowns with disinterest. "What about it?"
"Well, you're facing off against Rick Dickulous."
"Pfft! Fuck him!" Max makes a face that says 'as if I'm supposed to care?'
"Well, he's said before that he's looking forward to---"
"Looking forward to what? Getting his ass kicked?" Max nonchalantly shrugs one shoulder. "Getting his fucking teeth kicked in? Getting his jaw broke? He likes to study up on where people grew up, where they came from and try to use it against them like some cute little elementary school zinger." Max makes a mocking face and wiggles his fingers at the camera. "'Ooooh, hey guy! Max LeBrun's from fuckin' Missisauga, buddy! He's the Missisauga Menace, eh?!'" Max drops the mockery and turns serious as he looks at the camera. "I seriously don't get you, Rick. And maybe that's what annoys me the most, about you. Yeah, I am from Missisauga, Ontario. You know what we have there? Google it. We have fucking *civilization*! You? I seem to recall your old man telling Brody that getting a hold of you might be a little difficult, because you don't get good reception in the rockies. The rockies, Rick! You live in the mountains like a fucking hermit from an R.L Stein book and you wanna shit on people from the city. And to make matters worse, you're the poster boy as to why other shitbag countries like to mock us because you perpetuate every--fucking--stereotype for Canadian people! To be honest, motherfuckers like you make me sick and I'm looking forward to kicking that mongloid smile right off of your fucking face next week!" He turns to Candi and Julian, offscreen and motions that it's time to leave. "Let's get outta here." He says, shoving a reporter aside, roughly. "Get the fuck out of my way!" The camera captures the three walking down the hall, Max still needing support from his stable mates, as the shot fades out.
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Judas Lasher defeated Tama Tonga in their block match, by pinfall in 11:58 when Tonga went for the Gun Stun, only to be shoved forward, causing him to bounce off of the ropes and right into Lucifer's Halo. As the referee raised Lasher's arm in the ring, while Tama Tonga started to get back up to his feet, Judas Lasher sprung into action and snapped him down to the mat again with another Lucifer's Halo before finally letting him be.
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In the main event of the evening, Minoru Suzuki defeated Big Daddy Payne in their block match, by submission in 14:01. From the start of the bell, after the initial rush of blows being traded back and forth, Suzuki went right for BDP's knee and proceeded to work it over for the majority of the match and finally locking in an Inverted Indian Deathlock.
*After the match, Suzuki is given the mic from Paul Heyman as both Heyman and Taka Michinoku join Suzuki in the ring. Suzuki looks at the crowd with disdain before looking down at BDP being helped out of the ring and into the back by ring attendants.*
"Sōda, sono gomi o torinozoku. Kare o watashi no me no mae kara dete, watashi no ringu kara hanashite kudasai. Watashi wa anata ga subete no bakananode, hai man ga watashi no tame ni hanasu koto o kyoka shimasen, anata wa watashi ga eigo ni iu koto o hon'yaku suru ni ataisuru monode wa arimasen. Anata wa sono baka omega ga anata no tame ni sore o suru koto ga dekimasu," Suzuki says with a chuckle as he and Heyman exchange glances and Heyman smiles and nods approvingly as they are all joined by K.E.S., Havok, Shingo Takagi, Zack Sabre, Jr., T-Hawk, and Taichi, wearing their matching Suzuki-gun black and white track suits.
"Ima, watashi o kashō hyōka shitai hito wa imasu ka? Senaka ni darekaga imasu ka? Moshi sōnara, anata no jikan wa sugu ni kurudeshou. Anata wa kon'ya senaka ni okura reta futotta shiroi buta no yō ni, hontō no itami ga don'na kanji ka wakarimasu. Kare no ashikubi to ashi ga hibiware shi tari, jintai ga nobite sake tari suru no o dono yō ni kanjiru ka o kiite mite kudasai. BDP, anata wa bakadesu. Dono yō ni anata no yōna dare mo chanpiondatta watashi wa sore o haaku suru koto wa arimasen. Soshite, anata no fan wa, kare o ōen shi, kon'ya watashi no shōri no tame ni watashi o ōen suru tame no sarani ōkina baka no settodesu. Subete no koto ga owaru to, naze watashi wa puroresu ringu no ōda, soshite naze Suzuki-gun ICHIBAN!!!" Suzuki says defiantly as both he, Heyman, and the other members of Suzuki-gun all hold up one finger while Taka Michinoku crouches in front and unfurls the Suzuki-gun flag as 'Kaze Ni Nare" starts to play.
Reynolds: "Did you get any of that, Nicky?"
Hanson: "My Japanese isn't too up to par, Jim, but I can guess none of what he said was all too nice."
Reynolds: "Fair enough."
Hanson: "Well folks, we hope you enjoyed tonight's set of matches and we look forward to having you join us next week in the Bronx as the Vlad Blackheart Memorial Tournament continues! Good night, everyone!"
