Post by EmbodimentOfFear on Mar 23, 2019 22:18:32 GMT -5
A ring, smaller than the ones used by UGWC this one measuring around 15 feet on each side to UGWC's standard 20, is set up in the middle of a small theatre. A number of nondescript ring crew are busy tightening the ropes and tying the canvas down, both of which are faded and have seen better days. The ring itself is surrounded by a metal guard rail, and then rows of seats, that are also present on the theatre stage either side of a flimsy entrance rig that resembles a metal clothes-dryer after a storm than the Globa-Tron's UGWC fans are used to at their events.
Stalls with merchandise, including action figures, posters and t-shirts from the bigger promotions, including UGWC, line the outer perimeter of the theater, and to the sides of the stage are two elevated boxes with seats for those willing to spend a few extra dollars. In one of these boxes sit Wrestley McWrestleface, Holden Orson and Phrixus Deimos. Holden and Wrestley are both wearing their trademark masks, but Phrixus has positioned his chair in such a way our camera's cannot capture his face due to glare from the productions lights.
Wrestley: Didn't I tell you I'd gotten us primo seats!
Fear: When you said you had great seats for an NJPW show, this was not what I was expecting.
Holden: It's fantastic! I was dreading sitting through three hours of mainstream boredom. And before anyone tries to argue with me you are no longer a hipster brand when your shirts are sold in Hot Topic.
Fear: It is evident that I was brought along under false pretences. The rate at which you have established yourself as a disappointment is beyond remarkable, McWrestleface.
Wrestley: C'mon, what better way for the three of us to get to know one another, than a boys night out? We can sit back and let other people put their bodies at risk for our benefit, we can eat junk food, make stupid jokes, shout at the guys we don't like, and all with a nice beer! It's the perfect bonding experience!
Holden: If you got this with one of this gift experience vouchers, I'm out.
Wrestley: Nah, I used to work with these guy's, good bunch, sorted us out these seats away from the fans so we could watch without distracting.
Fear: You expect that I will drink alcoholic beverages on this excursion?
Wrestley: Isn't that what most people do to relax and cut loose on a night out.
Fear: I do not require release at this time.
Wrestley: Come on! Kick back, forget about your worries and tomorrow, just enjoy the moment. Not to mention, it's a boys night out, what happens on one, stays on one, it's the bro code.
Fear: Hmm.
Before they can continue the conversation their attention is drawn to the ring when a young man, likely no older than 20 or so years of age, clambers as gracefully as a pug with three legs into the ring. He is wearing an ill fitting suit and bow tie and he holds a microphone.
Ring Announcer: Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls, are you ready for New Jersey Pro Wrestling’s ‘March Forward Fall Back’!!!
A handful of the audience clap, and a few children scream.
Ring Announcer: I think we can do better than that, can’t we? I said, ARE...YOU...READY!?!?!?!?!?
Another handful of people join the original in half hearted claps and cheers.
Ring Announcer: I STILL can’t hear you, ARE YOU READY FOR MARCH FORWARD FALL BACK!!!!
At this point around forty of the crowd members indulge the young man in his pantomime, more out of sympathy and embarrassment than any genuine excitement. Having said that the younger members of the crowd are authentic in their enthusiasm, jumping around between the seats.
Coming to terms with the fact that this is likely the best reaction he is going to get he forges on.
Ring Announcer: What a show we have in store for you tonight folks! Every NJPW Title will be defended in this very ring. We will be starting with Ne...ey’s ver...n….erry-Jo….
He looks at the faulty mic and then back towards the curtain on the stage, after a few moments he nods backstage and raises the mic to his mouth once more.
Ring Announcer: As I was saying, our first match will pit New Jersey’s ver----SQQQQQQQUEEEEEEEEEE…
He withdraws the mic from his face urgently and the feedback stops. He looks back stage again, motioning at the faulty microphone with a shrug. A moment later a young lady runs out from behind the curtain with a back up mic, and he tries again.
Ring Announcer: Jerry-Joe Floyd wi...ce...Do…
He scowls at the mic, and tries again, now not a single word transmits, he looks back towards the curtain once more and after a few moments he realizes no more help is coming, and with a deep breath he bellows across the theatre without the aid of a microphone.
Ring Announcer: Apologies for the technical difficulties, we hope to have them resolved pretty soon. As I was saying we have an exciting night lined up for you, Jersey’s Own Jerry-Joe Floyd will get his first title opportunity, ‘Wrestlemon Orange’ will defend their crowns against the ‘Two Brother Army’, Bobo Baggins is here! You’ll see a brutal Falls Count Anywhere match, and the NJPW Heavyweight Championship will be defended!
Fans react relatively well to the announced matches but people are still settling into their seats and the young man’s voice does not carry across the noise of the crowd awfully well.
Ring Announcer: The show will be starting in about 5 minutes so you still have plenty of time to grab your official NJPW Merchandise, you can buy photoshoots with your favorite NJPW stars at the end of the night, and also get your tickets for the Raffle!
An ironic cheer goes up in the audience.
Ring Announcer: Prizes include signed photos, official merchandise goody bags, and tickets to the our next event here in Teaneck on May 4th. The draw will take place during the interval. Please get comfortable as the show will be starting in approximately 5 minutes.
Fear: You held employment with this operation?
Wrestley: Yes, quite a lot actually, you’d probably call them my ‘home’ fed.
We can just about make out Fear cocking his head to the side.
Fear: And you were paid?
Wrestley: It would be volunteering, not work, if I wasn’t.
Fear: And you were paid in real currency?
Wrestley: For the most part, yes.
Fear: The most part?
Wrestley: They do a fair amount of Charity shows, for kids hospitals and school programmes , y’know? The only payment I needed for those were the smiles of the children at ringside when I somersaulted over Thanos dressed as Captain McAmericaFace.
Fear: I see.
Wrestley: Why do you ask?
Fear: There are at least 11 performers scheduled to appear tonight, I counted at least 12 members of ring crew and general backstage helpers, 6 security guards and at least two people who seem to be sharing the role of promoters. It would be safe to assume that at least one of the promoters is also a performer, that may bring the numbers down a little. That is a total crew of 30 individuals.
General admission for the event was $8 for an adult, and $4 per child, with family tickets available for $20 for two adults and two children. For the sake of this exercise let us assume no family tickets were purchased, which would be very irregular but suits our needs. Looking at the crowd tonight, it would be safe to say no more than 80 people are in attendance, with around 25 of them being children.
If we assume that each and every member of the audience has paid full price, which is again doubtful, the gate for this particular event would be no more than $640 dollars. I observed before coming that the rates to hire this venue for a Saturday night are a reasonable $200, but they also take all revenue made from food and drink.
So even if every non wrestling member of tonight's show was doing this for free that leaves $440 to be split eleven ways. That is an average payout of $40 per competitor and these are grossly inflated numbers as we have not accounted for the numerous overheads.
Is this a particularly bad crowd?
Wrestley: Not by any means, this is one of the better drawing crowds I’ve seen them pull. Obviously they will advertise they have drawn more than they have, but who doesn’t?
Fear: Yet they managed to pay you in cash. Was it more than $40?
Wrestley: Sometimes, but for a crowd like this, I’d usually receive about $60 and whatever I made at the merch table and during photo shoots, but I wasn’t one of the top earners. Guys at the top probably get $150 for a night like this, and the special guests who used to wrestle in the big leagues tend to get at least $500 dollars.
Fear: Do these guests tend to draw a lot more fans?
Wrestley: Most I’ve seen was about 150 when former GIW star Brandon Brown made an appearance. But they do have other revenue streams, the merch stands bring in a good amount of revenue, you’d be surprised.
Fear: Hmm.
Wrestley: Where did Holden get to?
Fear: He is engaging in the purchase of...Raffle tickets.
Wrestley: See! I almost forgot about the raffle, that makes them a good amount of money, and the prizes generally cost them next to nothing! As I said, different revenue streams.
Fear: Hmm.
Wrestley: What is it? You can’t keep stuff to yourself on a boys night out, it’s in the bro code, you gotta spill!
Fear tilts his head to the side ever so slightly.
Fear: You used to work for money launderers.
Wrestley: What? No!
The silhouette of Deimos’ head nods.
Fear: I am not wrong. Your compensation was subsidized by drugs, prostitution, racketeering, probably some human trafficking.
What little color we can see behind the mask of El Flippy Loco drains from his face.
Wrestley: Oh.
At this point Holden hops into the box clutching 4 strips of Raffle Tickets.
Holden: They’ve got an authentic, signed, Michael ‘Fade’ Gordy framed photo available to win in the raffle! Do you guys know how rare that is? C’Mon Blue 70-89!
He kisses the tickets and places them on the shelf in front of their chairs.He then notices the glum expression on Wrestley’s face.
Holden: What did I miss?
Before he gets a response the theater lights are dimmed and the 6 colored disco lights strapped to the metal Curtain Pole entrance start to flash as the Ring Announcer bounds out to what must be the New Jersey Pro Wrestling theme tune.
Ring Announcer: Please all rise for the National Anthem.
Patriotic formalities completed an overweight referee sprints to the ring and the our host raises the microphone to his lips.
Ring Announcer: The following match is for the…
Wrestley: Things are starting with a bang! That is the NJPW Heavyweight Champion, Phobos Timore’s music.
Fear: Phobos Timore?
The crowd turns to the curtain as the orchestral music amps up, and then at it’s crescendo the NJPW Heavyweight Champion emerges from behind the curtain.
Fear: Is that a dressing gown...and face paint?
Wrestley: That’s right!
Holden: I dig it! A mix between The Dude from The Big Lebowski and Gene Simmons, not a combination you see often.
Fear: Hmm.
As he makes his way to the ring Timore takes the time to scare as many children ringside as possible before climbing into the ring and snatching the microphone from the Ring Announcer and scowling dramatically at him.
Phobos: Get out of my ring.
The crowd react as anticipated and start to boo and hurl abuse at the NJPW Heavyweight Champion.
Phobos: I am Phri...Phoib…Phobos...Timore show me some respect!
The crowd continue to hurl abuse at the dressing gown adorned individual.
Phobos: I am here to address my opponent...X-Box 450…
He then reaches into his dressing gown and rummages about before pulling out an A4 sized red ring binder brandishing it aloft above his head.
Phobos: I will now read from the Almanac of Agony.
Fear: ...
Timore opens the ring binder and shuffles through some papers before reading from one.
Phobos: “X-Bro 420, he used to be my servant, Bro-Zilla, he used to do what I said. Now he is just a fat man, now all he does is play Nintendo. He is what is wrong with this generation, what is wrong with these fans. I am more important to this company, he is not as important as me. He has done little, I have done much more. I will hurt him, I will make him beg. He will wish he did what I said still, he will wish he was the Right Hand of Terror once more.”
He receives more boos but significantly less than had he delivered the promo in a less monotone manner.
Wrestley: It’s X-Bro 420! He’s not just going to sit backstage and listen to this.
Fear: It is better than listening to it from the front of the stage, I can assure you.
The crowd cheer as the large framed man walks through the curtain and stops on the stage glaring at his opponent later in the evening, it’s clear some recognise him and are fans, and others just appreciate the role he is playing against the antagonist tonight.
X-Bro 420: Yo! Bro! You need to stop running your mouth, bro! That mouth of yours is gonna get you into more trouble than you can handle, bro. You hear me, bro?
Phobos: If you do not forfeit your opportunity, you will have to face me in a match of my choosing.
X-Bro 420: Bring it on, bro! I ain’t afraid of nothing, bro!
Phobos: MWUAHAHAHA!!!!
The Heavyweight Champion throws his head back and his hood falls off as he laughs maniacally.
Phobos: Tonight…”Bro”...You will face me in my signature match..
Wrestley: He can’t be serious!
Some members of the crowd inhale their breath sharply, and even X-bro looks uncertain for a moment.
Phobos: The Wall of Mirrors Match!
Fear: I have reconsidered your suggestion of the alcoholic beverage.
Wrestley: I don’t blame you! It’s going to be a wild night! I can’t believe they didn’t advertise a Wall of Mirrors match, it’s legendary in NJPW!
Holden: Hey, Phrix, I smuggled in a couple of hip flasks of contraband if you don’t want to waste your money on overpriced Brandweiser or whatever shit they are calling beer here. One flask is Papua New Guinea Sepik Blue Orchid Gin and the other doesn’t really have a name other than Batch 3971, it’s distilled by a bunch of hermits in Venezuela from whatever organic material they find growing in local landfills, no one batch is ever the same!
Wrestley: That sounds like as bad an idea as attempting a Piercing Media Network reunion in 2019.
Deimos gets to his feet.
Wrestley: Where are you going?
Fear: I am going to the imitation speakeasy, I am sure they will have something to wash the bad taste from my mouth.
He turns and leaves.
Wrestley: I am sure he will be disappointed.
Holden chuckles and takes a swig from one of the hip flasks and smiles.
Holden: Best gin in the world, bar none.
During this time the opening segment has ended and the performers have cleared from ringside. The ring announcer has climbed back in the ring.
Ring Announcer: the following contest is scheduled for one fall and is for the New Jersey Pro Wrestling Inter-Municipal Championship!
Ring Announcer: Introducing first the challenger...JERRY-JOE FLOYD!
A polite smattering of applause greats Jerry-Joe as he bounces onto the stage, running to the ring slapping hands with the young fans who rush to the entranceway.
Wrestley: This kid has a future if what I’ve seen is anything to go by. I was on the card last year when he won the Hyper Junior’s cup, he was a heel back then, Deidre was his valet that night.
Holden: Your Deidre?!?
Wrestley: Yeah, I know, right? But he has this whole liking the older ladies ‘gimmick’, bunny ears, wink wink,, and his original valet dropped out when her husband found out about her ‘extra practice’ with Jerry, this being the indies we don’t have a lot of choice when it comes to the more mature woman.
Ring Announcer: Introducing the current Inter-Municipal Champion...DOS TEQUILA JUNIOR!!!
At this point Fear sits back down.
Wrestley: How’d that work out for you?
Fear: They did not have Cabernet Sauvignon.
Wrestley: I’m shocked!
Fear: So I selected a bottle of whiskey, this is appropriate for a ‘male companion night out’, yes?
Wrestley snaps his fingers above his head.
Wrestley: Yeah BOI! This night is getting real!
Phrixus looks out towards the ring to see Dos Tequila Jnr making his stumbling entrance.
Fear: That individual is making tremendous life decisions.
Wrestley: That’s the kind of insight someone who had been watching his career from the start would say. He hasn’t ever been able to escape his father’s shadow, and in recent times he has spiralled down a moral rabbit hole. Yet despite his increasingly dishevelled appearance and attitude,he seems to have flourished since abandoning his desperate quest to live up to his father’s legacy, and is in the midst of his most successful run to date.
Fear: Hmm. I can relate to unburdening oneself of bothersome principles. Other members of our own roster might take note of the success he has achieved since abandoning societies insistence on glorifying institutions such as family and marriage. I dare say Kenzi Grey might benefit from losing herself entirely down a ‘moral rabbit hole’ as you put it, rather than the hole she finds herself so preoccupied with so much of the time.
Holden coughs.
Holden: Did you just make a dirty joke?
Fear: I find this beverage to be agreeable.
Holden: I’ll drink to that!
He raises his hip flask to his lips and takes a swig. He then slaps his thigh, splutters and wheezes. He then wipes his brow and widens his eyes.
Holden: Those hermits missed the flavor mark on this batch, but it’s certainly got a kick!
The match before them is underway and the two competitors clumsily engage in a display of chain wrestling that makes a Donovan Hastings chat up line look smooth as silk, and furthermore does nothing to raise the spirits of the crowd.
Wrestley: These guys are just getting a feel for one another now, they have crossed paths a number of times before, but the stakes are higher than ever before.
Fear: Intriguing.
Wrestley: What is?
Fear: You consider this to be high stakes.
Wrestley: The Inter-Municipal Championship has a prestigious heritage, it’s past holders are legends of the New Jersey scene.
Holden: You are one of them, aren’t you?
Wrestley: I may have held it once or six times in the past, but that’s not the point.
Fear: The point is the current holder looks like an undercooked chicken thigh and his opponent looks like he’s 20 going on 45.
Holden: The ladies here in attendance seem quite taken with him.
Fear: If he is considered an eligible bachelor in these parts, that says a great deal about Teaneck, New Jersey.
In the ring Dos Tequila Jnr has elicited a response from the crowd by poking his opponent in the eyes and then taking a swift kick to his groin behind the referee’s back. To enforce Holden’s point it is mainly the women in the crowd who are in uproar at the events unfolding in the ring as the Champion starts to take control of his opponent.
Fear: This truly is a curious reaction, I can see no reason for the ladyfolk to take to this individual in such a manner.
Wrestley: That’s because you’ve never shared a locker room with him, and nor were you in attendance at last years ‘All Hallows Beatings’ event to witness the wardrobe malfunction that turned him face with the ladies in a flash, pardon the phrase.
Holden: Really? What we talkin’ here?
Wrestley: Let’s just say the video on Youtube was well on it’s way to 4,000 hits in the hour before it was removed for indecency.
Holden: Wow.
Wrestley: Yeah, this is kind of his side business now, a good way to advertise some of his other, more discreet, services.
Fear: Pitiful. Yet another entitled millennial decaying the fabric of our industry from the inside. Like Grey and Malone. Like Lacklan and Vaughn. No respect for that which gives them so much, merely looking on it as a stepping stone, a side gig, a singular chapter in their story, as they set their eyes on something bigger.
Wrestley: in Jessy-Joe’s case it’s not his eyes searching for something bigger that’s the issue.
The fans start to get louder as Floyd starts to mount an energetic comeback, despite his timing being slightly off, the crowd begin to chant ‘Jerry Wrestling! Jerry Wrestling!’, but they are quickly brought down to earth when the Champion cuts him off with a drop toe hold, of sorts, awkwardly transitioning into armbar. When the youngster edges close to the ropes the Drunken Matador breaks the hold and drags him to the the middle of the ring by his legs and then unloads a barrage of stomps directly to his groin. A heavyset woman in the audience stands up bellows at the Dos Tequila Jnr.
Female Fan: YOU SON OF A BITCH! I PAID GOOD MONEY FOR THAT AFTER THE SHOW!
Fear coughs.
Wrestley: I GET IT.
Holden: Well somebody has to now that he won’t.
Dos Tequilas drops the legs of his opponent and walks to the ropes, leaning over to berate the woman, the referee trying to pull him away. All the while Jerry-Joe has rolled onto his stomach and slowly starts raising himself by his arms. When the Champion finally turns round he pounces.
Wrestley: COUGAR DROP!
One...Two...Three!
A tape of a ring being run sounds across the theatre PA and the females in the audience erupt in cheers as Jerry-Joe clambers to his feet and is presented with the title belt.
Holden: Wasn’t that the Virus of Life, Rydell’s move.
Wrestley: You think he invented it?
Holden: No, you’re right, it was probably gifted to him by a former tag team partner.
Ring Announcer: Here is your winner, and New New Jersey Pro Wrestling Inter-Municipal Champion...JERRY-JOE FLOYD!
Fear: Well that certainly resembled something approaching wrestling.
Ring Announcer: What a great first match, and a popular new Champion. Let’s hear it once more for Jerry-Joe Floyd.
‘Jersey Jerry’ salutes the crowd once more before departing back behind the curtain.
Ring Announcer: Hold onto your seats, because the following contest is a Falls Count Anywhere match.
Ring Announcer: Introducing first, making his second appearance for New Jersey Pro Wrestling, The Jersey Enigma...BILL WILDERMENT!
Fear: What a colorful individual, I am sure his edgy look is by no means an attempt to distract from a distinct lack of personality.
Wrestley: How did you know Bill was an accountant?
Fear: Intuition.
Wrestley: Bill has been handling NJPW finances for years.
Fear: Has he now?
Wrestey: Yeah, I was kinda shocked when I heard he had stepped into the ring, I had no inkling that he had previously been interested in it, he never came to training. And the makeover is somewhat drastic also, Bill did NOT look like THIS when I explained to him I was joining UGWC full time.
Holden: I bet he was shocked.
Wrestley: He did go quite pale now that you mention it. He should have had some inkling, I emailed him.about the audition but apparently he'd mistakenly deleted it. He seemed quite put out by it. But we were all shocked, no one who made their name in NJPW has ever reached these heights.
Fear: Or got that much exposure.
Wrestley: Yeah, I guess it was kind of a big deal. A few other guys got close, one guy got into a car accident on the way to his try out, another was arrested the night before his Carnage debut.
Ring Announcer: Introducing his opponent, The Fighting Irishman...FINTAN O'CONNELL!
Fear: Tell me, is this Irishman also the company booker, perchance?
Wrestley: You are good at this.
Holden: Observation is kinda his ‘thing’.
Wrestley: Fintan is one of the bookers, there are a few because…
Fear: It is a family business.
Wrestley: That's right!
Fear: Bill missed an email, a few months later he is in a Falls Count Anywhere match with his boss in only his second match?
Wrestley: You don't think?
Fear: I do.
Wrestley: Well…goddamn.
Holden: SWEET JAN WNEK'S CHISEL!
Wrestley: I know, it's a tremendous revelation.
Holden: What? I wasn't listening to you guys, I just took another swig from the hermit flask.
The tape recording of a ring bell plays once more and the match is underway.
Wrestley: I’m not sure we should be watching this?
Holden: I am sure it won’t be that bad, I know hardcore matches like this are usually used to hide the weaknesses of the competitors, but the intensity on the Irish guy’s face tells me he is quite experienced in the art.
Wrestley: Gulp.
The intensity Holden speaks of manifests itself at first with a torrent of foul mouthed abuse from O’Connell to his colorful foe. Wilderment however just stands in the corner, frozen like the proverbial deer. Fintan walks right up to him, screaming in his face, accusing him of a great number of sins and immoral acts, questioning his manhood and integrity. He then insultingly delivers an open hand slap to The Jersey Enigma, who still does not respond, so he unloads another and another and another.
Holden: Is it just me, or does this feel a little uncomfortable and quite humiliating?
Fear: That, I suspect, is the point.
Holden: I don’t understand why the man with the mohawk is just standing there taking it?
And take it the man does, another torrent of slaps turn his face red, but still he does nothing to try and stem the tide. Fintan finally stops his assault on the cheeks of his opponent, and grabs him by his mohawk and tosses him to the canvas over his leg. He then starts to relentlessly put the boots into him as he falls into a ball on the floor.
Holden: Is the Irishman meant to be the hero? Why are the fans cheering these actions? Did the punk kill his dog or something? I feel like I am missing a key piece of the puzzle.
Wrestley: You don’t want to know. If I were you I’d take another hit from the flask...in fact throw me one.
Holden: You sure?
Wrestley: I am.
Holden tosses Wrestley a flask and they both raise them and take a swig.
Holden: Ah, the sweetness of the gin.
He looks over at Wrestley anticipating his disgusted reaction, but El Flippy Loco is looking back at the ring where Fintan stomps on Wilderements head.
Wrestley: I feel sick.
Holden: Sorry about that, it was a 50/50 chance you got Hermit Homebrew.
Wrestley: It’s not the drink.
The Holden’s horror The Slenderweight Sensation absentmindedly takes another swig before passing the flask back to the hipster who looks on at him in a mixture of admiration and disgust.
In the ring Bill Wilderment still shows no signs of even attempting to fight back as Fintan tosses him out of the ring to the theater floor, he then drags him over to the guard rail and throws his head face first onto the top, and repeats the action a number of times while a young boy watches on inches from the rail with tears running down his eyes.
Fintan: LOOK AT DADDY NOW!
The Irishman screams in the youngsters face before then spitting directly in the face of The Jersey Enigma. This ultimately elicits a response from the mohawked punchbag, and he swings wildly at O’Connell, connects with a few light rights, but for the most part missing his target by some distance, but he does connect by returning the saliva missile he received moments before.
Holden: Finally!
Wrestley: Why did he have to go and do that?
Holden: Because he’s a pro-wrestler, and pro-wrestlers fight back!
Wrestley: That will probably hold up in court, unfortunately.
Back on the theater floor Fintan wipes the spit from his face, and slowly raises his eyebrows and shakes his head, he blows a kiss to the mother of the weeping child, before smashing his knuckles into the side of Wilderments skull, and then clotheslining him over the guardrail into the audience.
Jumping over the rail the Fighting Irishman drags his opponent by his legs to the back of the room, and opens one of the two large and ornate oak doors that leads to the lobby. He drives Bill’s head into the closed door and then throws him to the ground and hooks hi leg around the bottom of the closed door.
Wrestley: I can’t believe this is taking place in a public venue...pass me the flask.
Fintan reaches up and unhooks the fire safety mechanism from the top of the heavy oak door, and then swings it closed with all his might, crushing The Jersey Enigma’s leg between the two doors. He cocks his head, unsatisfied and swings the door open and closed once more, he shakes his head and then hefts the door a third time. On this occasion when it impacts Wilderments knee, a loud pop and crackle followed by a scream of agony from Bill tell him his job is done.
He then makes an academic cover, and the referee makes the three count.
Ring Announcer: Here is your winner….FINTAN O’CONNELL.
The crowd are not stunned into silence like McWrestleface, and cheer the result loudly, and pop even harder when O’Connell picks his beaten opponent up and tosses him through the doors into the Lobby.
Fintan: YOU BETTER DISAPPEAR!
Ring Announcer: I don’t think we’ll be seeing Bill Wilderment in New Jersey Pro Wrestling again any time soon.
Wrestley: Or anywhere near the Tri-State area.
Ring Announcer: Now that has been dealt with, it’s time to move swiftly along to our next contest, the New Jersey Pro Wrestling Tag Team Championship Match!!!
Ring Announcers: Introducing the challengers…’Ice Hard’ Barry Harris...and Paul ‘Crusher’ Harris...THE TWO BROTHER ARMY!
The crowd erupts in a chorus of boos as the two men emerge from the curtain, they saunter down to the ring flipping of the fans indiscriminately and engaging in unprovoked verbal tirades. When they enter the ring, Paul ‘Crusher’ Harris grabs the microphone from the hapless announcer and scowls at the crowd before speaking.
Paul ‘Crusher Harris: It sucks to be here in Teaneck! But you know what sucks even more than this cesspit and you people? The fact that the Tag Team Championships we worked so hard to make mean something in this company are currently held by two freaks!
‘Ice Hard’ Barry Harris stands to the side of his brother, arms crossed, nodding.
Paul ‘Crusher’ Harris: It’s an embarrassment that we have to be here, it’s humiliating that we have to step foot in a ring with freaks like that!
At this point both men turn, and they look directly up at the box the UGWC Entertainment Professionals inhabit.
Paul ‘Crusher’ Harris: speaking of freaks, we hear our old friend Wrestley McWrestleface is in attendance tonight.
The crowd lets out a cheer.
Paul ‘Crusher’ Harris: Oh shut up! Do you think he gives two shits about any of you? He’s up there in a box with his new friends from Chicago, lording it over the rest of us before he flys out to some exotic location. You think he wanted to be associated with any of you? He specifically requested to be seated away from you all!
The fans don’t believe him and start chanting for Wrestley, who obliges them by sticking his head out and waving to the largest pop of the night.
Paul ‘Crusher’ Harris: Why don’t you give them what they want McWrestlefuck? Why don’t you come down here and I’ll beat your ass before my brother and I win the tag Championships! You can even bring your friends.
Fear: I do not believe that would be a wise course of action.
Fear motions to the crowd where Fintan O’Connell remains lurking close to ringside, staring daggers up at the box.
Wrestley: I’m not a complete idiot.
Paul ‘Crusher’ Harris: See, he’s a worthless coward, he’s never beaten me before, and never can. What does that say about all those frauds over in Chicago? Now bring out those two other freaks so me and my brother can prove yet more of your precious heroes are nothing more than walking sacks of garbage. Just like each and everyone of you.[/color]
The crowd start to hurl garbage in the ring, but they turn to cheers the moment the next music is played.
The crowd erupts with a cheer that McWrestleface’s own only slightly dwarfed.
Ring Announcer: And their opponents, The New Jersey pro Wrestling Tag Team Champions….The Camden Carrot….Peekatyou….WRESTLEMON ORANGE!!!
The colorful duo sprint around the ring, hi-fiving fans and posing for selfies.
Fear: What am I looking at?
Holden: Well the chunky yellow one is a homage to a popular computer game and cartoon franchise, and the orange one is a Carrot.
Fear: I see.
Holden: I am more of a Magi-Nation man, myself.
Wrestley: Of course you are.
The match gets underway and almost immediately the Two Man Army isolate the Camden carrot and cut the ring in half, making successive tags to keep him grounded and away from his opponent.
Wrestley: Two Man Army are the most successful tag team in NJPW history, and Paul is one of the most successful performers in the companies history.
Holden: You never beat him, huh?
Wrestley: That is beside the point.
The Harris’ start to use time honored heel traditions to distract the ref and get some cheap shots in on The orange Hero as the fans levels of distaste rise, their boo’s getting louder by the minute.
Wrestley: Interesting fact, while The Harris Brothers are two of the most reviled wrestlers on the East Coast, when they perform in California and the West Coast they are huge fan favourites, going under the name of Paul and Barry Chuckle, The Chuckle Brothers. They mix stiff wrestling with slapstick hijinx to great reactions.
Fear: Curiouser and curiouser.
In the ring the Camden Carrot manages a brief comeback and looks for the hot tag, but at the very last moment ‘Ice Hard’ Barry Harris grabs him by the leg and drags him back to their corner to the displeasure of the fans.
Holden: I will admit, at first these brothers looked like nothing more than the sort of guys that beg change from me when I am buying my weekly edition of Antiquing Tales magazine from the newstand, but they are proving to be a formidable unit.
Wrestley: Sometimes appearances can be deceiving. We’ve seen that in UGWC recently, if they weren’t do you think Alan Wallace would have ever dreamed of teaming with Konrad Raab? It was the latter surpassing the formers expectations that changed his mind. But those expectations were only low because Wallace did not look past the impression of a bedraggled 50 year old man with signs of acute brain damage.
Holden: How do you explain him teaming with the Natural Born killer, then? You get exactly what your first impression of that guy is, a box full of crazy.
Wrestley: Even the most successful and confident amongst us get desperate at times. Beggars can’t be choosers, after all.
Holden: Did you just call Vain a beggar?
Wrestley: If the shoe fits.
Holden: I’m beginning to warm to you, kid.
Their attention is drawn back to the ring as the crowd yells in approval as the hot tag is finally made and Peekatyou barrels into the ring, laying out Barry with a lariat and then the onrushing Paul with a knee to the midsection that flips him 180 degrees onto the canvas.
The stunned brothers roll out of the ring to regroup, but as they stand to their feet they look up to see Peekatyou in flight, attempting a plancha, however his foot gets caught and he comes down short, Barry managing to move forward in just time to be struck slightly by the boot of the Wrestlemon, falling sidewards and taking his brother down with him..
Holden: JUMPING JEHOVAH’S!
Wrestley: Impressed
Holden: Nope. Hermit Homebrew.
Back in the ring Peekatyou is building up a head of steam, sending Paul ‘Crusher’ harris down to his knees, but as he runs the ropes Barry emerges from the arena floor and slams a chair into the Wrestlemon’s back as he collides with the ropes. He stumbles towards ‘The Hoboken Hardman’ who kicks him in the gut and then lifts him up and slams him down with a Jackknife Powerbomb, as his brother pulls the Carrot down from the Canvas.
Wrestley: DREAM CRUSHER!
The referee makes the three count to a crescendo of boos from the audience. The Two brother Army grab the titles and roll from the ring, laughing and patting each other on the back as the Camden carrot slides into the ring to console his partner.
Ring Announcer: Here are your winners, and NEW NJPW Tag Team Champions...THE TWO BROTHER ARMY!!!
Paul grabs the microphone from the announcers hands.
Paul ‘Crusher’ Harris: Play our music!
Paul ‘Crusher’ Harris: GODDAMN IT KAREN! NOT THAT ONE!
Paul and Barry scuttle off sheepishly with their belts and the ring crew emerge from backstage to sweep the garbage that has been thrown into the ring.
Ring Announcer: That’s the end of the first part of our show, we will now take a short break. Remember you still have time to buy photoshoots with your favourite NJPW stars at the merchandise tables, and you have five minutes left to purchase your raffle tickets.
The UGWC Entertainment Professionals take the opportunity to one by one use the boxes private bathroom, but we will not go into detail about that here, if you want that there are other forums for you.
When they return the raffle is being drawn.
Ring Announcer: The Third prize is 4 tickets to our very next show here in teaneck on may 4th...and the ticket is….Yellow 872.
A man stands up brandishing a ticket.
Ring Announcer: Just give your details to Karen at the desk and she’ll sort you out...Second Prize, Any item of merchandise from the stalls and a photoshoot with your favourite Wrestler...and the ticket is...Orange 4274….that’s Orange 42...74….
A young child screams in joy.
Ring Announcer: Just show the ticket at the table young man. And finally, the grand prize, 4 Tickets to May’s show, a choice of two pieces of merchandise AND an authentic signed photo of Michael ‘Fade’ Gordy....and the winner is…[/color]
Holden: C’mon Blue 70 to 89...C’mon…
Ring Announcer: Blue 79...Blue 79…
Holden jumps a little in his chair and then looks through his tickets, he stares at them for a moment and shuffles through them…
Holden: I got four strips...where’s the other? This can’t be happening to me!
Holden drops to the floor and looks under the seats, as he scrambles around he hears the Ring Announcer speak.
Ring Announcer: Ah, Sir, if you’d just like to present your ticket at the desk.
Holden slowly gets to his feet and looks down to see Phrixus Deimos walking to the merchandise table and handing over a blue ticket.
Holden: He stole my ticket? Of course he did.
Ring Announcer: It is now time for the second part of our show!
Ring Announcer: The Following Match is scheduled for One Fall, introducing first, making his NJPW debut...BART RAMSBOTTOM!
The fans are largely indifferent to the entrance of Ramsbottom, despite his strange appearance and mannerisms.
Holden: Well I thought I’d seen it all when I saw a Wrestling Pokemon…
Wrestley: I hear he had a tryout with UGWC last year, but got rejected.
Holden: Maybe he should have waited for the Global Challenge, they were taking anyone back then, weren’t they?
Wrestley: Screw you.
Ring Announcer: And his opponent, BOBO BAGGINS!!!!
The crowd react warmly to the short rotund individual who appears from beneath the curtain.
Wrestley: Bobo is a good friend of mine.
Holden: You keep interesting company.
Baggins immediately goes right after Bart, connecting with numerous forearm shots to his jaw. He doubles him over with a kick to the stomach, before heading towards the opposite ropes. Bouncing off, he runs towards him at full speed, but he runs his over with a shoulder block. Elbow drop attempt from Bart, but Bobo rolls out of the way and quickly returns to his feet. Spinning heel kick finds its mark, taking Bart off his feet. Bobo bounces back up and springboards off the middle rope, hitting a leg drop.
At this point Fear returns to the booth with a bag of prizes.
Holden:Oh here he is, the great and might raffle swiper!
Fear removes a framed picture from the bag.
Fear: You may have this.
He hands it to Holden.
Holden: Damn right I can, it was my ticket.
Fear: It is as I suspected, all the memorabilia on display are poor forgeries.
Holden: No!
Fear: yes. That picture is signed ‘Mitchell ‘Face’ Gorrby’
Holden looks closely and sighs.
Fear: Would you like the ticket?
Holden: On principle, yes.
Fear: It is in the compost bin on the left over there.
Fear looks into the ring as the action continues.
Bobo rolls over and gets up to his hands and knees, dodging a punt kick that came extremely close to putting his lights out. Scurrying back to his feet, he throws a superkick out as Bart turns back around, but he sees it and drops to the mat, rolling under the bottom rope and out to the floor.
Fear: I have observed many of moves implemented by Bobo are the same as our own Roxy Cotton.
Wrestley: Well…
Holden: And for a guy of his stature he pulls them off incredibly well.
Wrestley: I’m told he had the very best teacher for a while.
Bobo back to his feet and connects with a few kicks, before bending down and grabbing the arm of Bart Ramsbottom. Using all of his strength, he pulls him to his feet and attempts to Irish whip him across the ring into the corner. He then launches at him and hits a bronco buster followed by a bansai drop.
Wrestley: TEA BAGGINS!
He rolls over and gets the cover and the three count to the joy of the fans.
Ring Announcer: Here is your winner….BOBO BAGGINS!
Fear looks across the theatre and sees some commotion behind the merchandise stalls as they start to hurriedly pack away.
Fear: Hmm. I think we ought to leave.
Wrestley: And miss the Wall of Mirrors?
Fear: I enjoy gimmick infringement as much as the next man, but this match will not last long.
He looks back down and can see that the merchandise stands have already nearly been stripped bare.
Fear: Trust me. We must leave now.
Ring Announcer: It is now time for our Main Event and The Wall of Mirrors Match.
A sharp look from Phrixus encourages both Holden and Wrestley to stand and leave the box and head for the exits as on the stage a row of 5 full length mirrors tied together with rope are revealed next to the entrance curtain.
Ring Announcer: to Win the Match you must put your opponent through the Wall of Mirrors!
The crowd ooh and ahh and are distracted as our trio snake their way through the audience. As they do Fintan o’Connell runs out of from behind the curtain in his street clothes, clutching a large duffel bag. He slides in the ring and whispers something to the ring announcer who goes pale as his boss slides out of the ring, and darts over the barricade.
Ring Announcer: Introducing first the Challenger...X-Bro 420…
X-Bro walks through the curtain and spreads his arms, Wrestley turns back to look, just as The Two Man Army burst out from behind the curtain and pound on X-Bro 420, as they do Phobos Timore emerges and points to the Wall of Mirrors, and they raise the large frame of ‘The Gargantuan Gamer’ into the air, and deliver a double chokeslam through the
Mirrors.
Fear: I told you it would be short. Now move.
Phobos grabs a microphone as the Harris Brothers continue to beat on X Bro-420.
Phobos: I warned him, but he did not heed my words…
X-Bro 420 lies in a bloody puddle as Barry and Paul each take a knee either side of The Manifestation of Panic as the crowd begin to pelt them with garbage.
Phobos: They are the disciples of my doctrine of despair….
Just before they exit into the lobby Fear turns back and looks at the scene as Phobos Timore flanked by the Two Brother Army raises the NJPW Heavyweight Championship above his head.
Phobos: And this is The Second Tenure of Terror.
Fear looks from the trio on the stage to Wrestley and Holden as they head through the Lobby.
Fear: Hmm.
He then joins them as they cross the lobby and open the doors to the street, just as the sirens and the lights start to get closer.
Stalls with merchandise, including action figures, posters and t-shirts from the bigger promotions, including UGWC, line the outer perimeter of the theater, and to the sides of the stage are two elevated boxes with seats for those willing to spend a few extra dollars. In one of these boxes sit Wrestley McWrestleface, Holden Orson and Phrixus Deimos. Holden and Wrestley are both wearing their trademark masks, but Phrixus has positioned his chair in such a way our camera's cannot capture his face due to glare from the productions lights.
Wrestley: Didn't I tell you I'd gotten us primo seats!
Fear: When you said you had great seats for an NJPW show, this was not what I was expecting.
Holden: It's fantastic! I was dreading sitting through three hours of mainstream boredom. And before anyone tries to argue with me you are no longer a hipster brand when your shirts are sold in Hot Topic.
Fear: It is evident that I was brought along under false pretences. The rate at which you have established yourself as a disappointment is beyond remarkable, McWrestleface.
Wrestley: C'mon, what better way for the three of us to get to know one another, than a boys night out? We can sit back and let other people put their bodies at risk for our benefit, we can eat junk food, make stupid jokes, shout at the guys we don't like, and all with a nice beer! It's the perfect bonding experience!
Holden: If you got this with one of this gift experience vouchers, I'm out.
Wrestley: Nah, I used to work with these guy's, good bunch, sorted us out these seats away from the fans so we could watch without distracting.
Fear: You expect that I will drink alcoholic beverages on this excursion?
Wrestley: Isn't that what most people do to relax and cut loose on a night out.
Fear: I do not require release at this time.
Wrestley: Come on! Kick back, forget about your worries and tomorrow, just enjoy the moment. Not to mention, it's a boys night out, what happens on one, stays on one, it's the bro code.
Fear: Hmm.
Before they can continue the conversation their attention is drawn to the ring when a young man, likely no older than 20 or so years of age, clambers as gracefully as a pug with three legs into the ring. He is wearing an ill fitting suit and bow tie and he holds a microphone.
Ring Announcer: Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls, are you ready for New Jersey Pro Wrestling’s ‘March Forward Fall Back’!!!
A handful of the audience clap, and a few children scream.
Ring Announcer: I think we can do better than that, can’t we? I said, ARE...YOU...READY!?!?!?!?!?
Another handful of people join the original in half hearted claps and cheers.
Ring Announcer: I STILL can’t hear you, ARE YOU READY FOR MARCH FORWARD FALL BACK!!!!
At this point around forty of the crowd members indulge the young man in his pantomime, more out of sympathy and embarrassment than any genuine excitement. Having said that the younger members of the crowd are authentic in their enthusiasm, jumping around between the seats.
Coming to terms with the fact that this is likely the best reaction he is going to get he forges on.
Ring Announcer: What a show we have in store for you tonight folks! Every NJPW Title will be defended in this very ring. We will be starting with Ne...ey’s ver...n….erry-Jo….
He looks at the faulty mic and then back towards the curtain on the stage, after a few moments he nods backstage and raises the mic to his mouth once more.
Ring Announcer: As I was saying, our first match will pit New Jersey’s ver----SQQQQQQQUEEEEEEEEEE…
He withdraws the mic from his face urgently and the feedback stops. He looks back stage again, motioning at the faulty microphone with a shrug. A moment later a young lady runs out from behind the curtain with a back up mic, and he tries again.
Ring Announcer: Jerry-Joe Floyd wi...ce...Do…
He scowls at the mic, and tries again, now not a single word transmits, he looks back towards the curtain once more and after a few moments he realizes no more help is coming, and with a deep breath he bellows across the theatre without the aid of a microphone.
Ring Announcer: Apologies for the technical difficulties, we hope to have them resolved pretty soon. As I was saying we have an exciting night lined up for you, Jersey’s Own Jerry-Joe Floyd will get his first title opportunity, ‘Wrestlemon Orange’ will defend their crowns against the ‘Two Brother Army’, Bobo Baggins is here! You’ll see a brutal Falls Count Anywhere match, and the NJPW Heavyweight Championship will be defended!
Fans react relatively well to the announced matches but people are still settling into their seats and the young man’s voice does not carry across the noise of the crowd awfully well.
Ring Announcer: The show will be starting in about 5 minutes so you still have plenty of time to grab your official NJPW Merchandise, you can buy photoshoots with your favorite NJPW stars at the end of the night, and also get your tickets for the Raffle!
An ironic cheer goes up in the audience.
Ring Announcer: Prizes include signed photos, official merchandise goody bags, and tickets to the our next event here in Teaneck on May 4th. The draw will take place during the interval. Please get comfortable as the show will be starting in approximately 5 minutes.
Fear: You held employment with this operation?
Wrestley: Yes, quite a lot actually, you’d probably call them my ‘home’ fed.
We can just about make out Fear cocking his head to the side.
Fear: And you were paid?
Wrestley: It would be volunteering, not work, if I wasn’t.
Fear: And you were paid in real currency?
Wrestley: For the most part, yes.
Fear: The most part?
Wrestley: They do a fair amount of Charity shows, for kids hospitals and school programmes , y’know? The only payment I needed for those were the smiles of the children at ringside when I somersaulted over Thanos dressed as Captain McAmericaFace.
Fear: I see.
Wrestley: Why do you ask?
Fear: There are at least 11 performers scheduled to appear tonight, I counted at least 12 members of ring crew and general backstage helpers, 6 security guards and at least two people who seem to be sharing the role of promoters. It would be safe to assume that at least one of the promoters is also a performer, that may bring the numbers down a little. That is a total crew of 30 individuals.
General admission for the event was $8 for an adult, and $4 per child, with family tickets available for $20 for two adults and two children. For the sake of this exercise let us assume no family tickets were purchased, which would be very irregular but suits our needs. Looking at the crowd tonight, it would be safe to say no more than 80 people are in attendance, with around 25 of them being children.
If we assume that each and every member of the audience has paid full price, which is again doubtful, the gate for this particular event would be no more than $640 dollars. I observed before coming that the rates to hire this venue for a Saturday night are a reasonable $200, but they also take all revenue made from food and drink.
So even if every non wrestling member of tonight's show was doing this for free that leaves $440 to be split eleven ways. That is an average payout of $40 per competitor and these are grossly inflated numbers as we have not accounted for the numerous overheads.
Is this a particularly bad crowd?
Wrestley: Not by any means, this is one of the better drawing crowds I’ve seen them pull. Obviously they will advertise they have drawn more than they have, but who doesn’t?
Fear: Yet they managed to pay you in cash. Was it more than $40?
Wrestley: Sometimes, but for a crowd like this, I’d usually receive about $60 and whatever I made at the merch table and during photo shoots, but I wasn’t one of the top earners. Guys at the top probably get $150 for a night like this, and the special guests who used to wrestle in the big leagues tend to get at least $500 dollars.
Fear: Do these guests tend to draw a lot more fans?
Wrestley: Most I’ve seen was about 150 when former GIW star Brandon Brown made an appearance. But they do have other revenue streams, the merch stands bring in a good amount of revenue, you’d be surprised.
Fear: Hmm.
Wrestley: Where did Holden get to?
Fear: He is engaging in the purchase of...Raffle tickets.
Wrestley: See! I almost forgot about the raffle, that makes them a good amount of money, and the prizes generally cost them next to nothing! As I said, different revenue streams.
Fear: Hmm.
Wrestley: What is it? You can’t keep stuff to yourself on a boys night out, it’s in the bro code, you gotta spill!
Fear tilts his head to the side ever so slightly.
Fear: You used to work for money launderers.
Wrestley: What? No!
The silhouette of Deimos’ head nods.
Fear: I am not wrong. Your compensation was subsidized by drugs, prostitution, racketeering, probably some human trafficking.
What little color we can see behind the mask of El Flippy Loco drains from his face.
Wrestley: Oh.
At this point Holden hops into the box clutching 4 strips of Raffle Tickets.
Holden: They’ve got an authentic, signed, Michael ‘Fade’ Gordy framed photo available to win in the raffle! Do you guys know how rare that is? C’Mon Blue 70-89!
He kisses the tickets and places them on the shelf in front of their chairs.He then notices the glum expression on Wrestley’s face.
Holden: What did I miss?
Before he gets a response the theater lights are dimmed and the 6 colored disco lights strapped to the metal Curtain Pole entrance start to flash as the Ring Announcer bounds out to what must be the New Jersey Pro Wrestling theme tune.
Ring Announcer: Please all rise for the National Anthem.
Patriotic formalities completed an overweight referee sprints to the ring and the our host raises the microphone to his lips.
Ring Announcer: The following match is for the…
Wrestley: Things are starting with a bang! That is the NJPW Heavyweight Champion, Phobos Timore’s music.
Fear: Phobos Timore?
The crowd turns to the curtain as the orchestral music amps up, and then at it’s crescendo the NJPW Heavyweight Champion emerges from behind the curtain.
Fear: Is that a dressing gown...and face paint?
Wrestley: That’s right!
Holden: I dig it! A mix between The Dude from The Big Lebowski and Gene Simmons, not a combination you see often.
Fear: Hmm.
As he makes his way to the ring Timore takes the time to scare as many children ringside as possible before climbing into the ring and snatching the microphone from the Ring Announcer and scowling dramatically at him.
Phobos: Get out of my ring.
The crowd react as anticipated and start to boo and hurl abuse at the NJPW Heavyweight Champion.
Phobos: I am Phri...Phoib…Phobos...Timore show me some respect!
The crowd continue to hurl abuse at the dressing gown adorned individual.
Phobos: I am here to address my opponent...X-Box 450…
He then reaches into his dressing gown and rummages about before pulling out an A4 sized red ring binder brandishing it aloft above his head.
Phobos: I will now read from the Almanac of Agony.
Fear: ...
Timore opens the ring binder and shuffles through some papers before reading from one.
Phobos: “X-Bro 420, he used to be my servant, Bro-Zilla, he used to do what I said. Now he is just a fat man, now all he does is play Nintendo. He is what is wrong with this generation, what is wrong with these fans. I am more important to this company, he is not as important as me. He has done little, I have done much more. I will hurt him, I will make him beg. He will wish he did what I said still, he will wish he was the Right Hand of Terror once more.”
He receives more boos but significantly less than had he delivered the promo in a less monotone manner.
Wrestley: It’s X-Bro 420! He’s not just going to sit backstage and listen to this.
Fear: It is better than listening to it from the front of the stage, I can assure you.
The crowd cheer as the large framed man walks through the curtain and stops on the stage glaring at his opponent later in the evening, it’s clear some recognise him and are fans, and others just appreciate the role he is playing against the antagonist tonight.
X-Bro 420: Yo! Bro! You need to stop running your mouth, bro! That mouth of yours is gonna get you into more trouble than you can handle, bro. You hear me, bro?
Phobos: If you do not forfeit your opportunity, you will have to face me in a match of my choosing.
X-Bro 420: Bring it on, bro! I ain’t afraid of nothing, bro!
Phobos: MWUAHAHAHA!!!!
The Heavyweight Champion throws his head back and his hood falls off as he laughs maniacally.
Phobos: Tonight…”Bro”...You will face me in my signature match..
Wrestley: He can’t be serious!
Some members of the crowd inhale their breath sharply, and even X-bro looks uncertain for a moment.
Phobos: The Wall of Mirrors Match!
Fear: I have reconsidered your suggestion of the alcoholic beverage.
Wrestley: I don’t blame you! It’s going to be a wild night! I can’t believe they didn’t advertise a Wall of Mirrors match, it’s legendary in NJPW!
Holden: Hey, Phrix, I smuggled in a couple of hip flasks of contraband if you don’t want to waste your money on overpriced Brandweiser or whatever shit they are calling beer here. One flask is Papua New Guinea Sepik Blue Orchid Gin and the other doesn’t really have a name other than Batch 3971, it’s distilled by a bunch of hermits in Venezuela from whatever organic material they find growing in local landfills, no one batch is ever the same!
Wrestley: That sounds like as bad an idea as attempting a Piercing Media Network reunion in 2019.
Deimos gets to his feet.
Wrestley: Where are you going?
Fear: I am going to the imitation speakeasy, I am sure they will have something to wash the bad taste from my mouth.
He turns and leaves.
Wrestley: I am sure he will be disappointed.
Holden chuckles and takes a swig from one of the hip flasks and smiles.
Holden: Best gin in the world, bar none.
During this time the opening segment has ended and the performers have cleared from ringside. The ring announcer has climbed back in the ring.
Ring Announcer: the following contest is scheduled for one fall and is for the New Jersey Pro Wrestling Inter-Municipal Championship!
Ring Announcer: Introducing first the challenger...JERRY-JOE FLOYD!
A polite smattering of applause greats Jerry-Joe as he bounces onto the stage, running to the ring slapping hands with the young fans who rush to the entranceway.
Wrestley: This kid has a future if what I’ve seen is anything to go by. I was on the card last year when he won the Hyper Junior’s cup, he was a heel back then, Deidre was his valet that night.
Holden: Your Deidre?!?
Wrestley: Yeah, I know, right? But he has this whole liking the older ladies ‘gimmick’, bunny ears, wink wink,, and his original valet dropped out when her husband found out about her ‘extra practice’ with Jerry, this being the indies we don’t have a lot of choice when it comes to the more mature woman.
Ring Announcer: Introducing the current Inter-Municipal Champion...DOS TEQUILA JUNIOR!!!
At this point Fear sits back down.
Wrestley: How’d that work out for you?
Fear: They did not have Cabernet Sauvignon.
Wrestley: I’m shocked!
Fear: So I selected a bottle of whiskey, this is appropriate for a ‘male companion night out’, yes?
Wrestley snaps his fingers above his head.
Wrestley: Yeah BOI! This night is getting real!
Phrixus looks out towards the ring to see Dos Tequila Jnr making his stumbling entrance.
Fear: That individual is making tremendous life decisions.
Wrestley: That’s the kind of insight someone who had been watching his career from the start would say. He hasn’t ever been able to escape his father’s shadow, and in recent times he has spiralled down a moral rabbit hole. Yet despite his increasingly dishevelled appearance and attitude,he seems to have flourished since abandoning his desperate quest to live up to his father’s legacy, and is in the midst of his most successful run to date.
Fear: Hmm. I can relate to unburdening oneself of bothersome principles. Other members of our own roster might take note of the success he has achieved since abandoning societies insistence on glorifying institutions such as family and marriage. I dare say Kenzi Grey might benefit from losing herself entirely down a ‘moral rabbit hole’ as you put it, rather than the hole she finds herself so preoccupied with so much of the time.
Holden coughs.
Holden: Did you just make a dirty joke?
Fear: I find this beverage to be agreeable.
Holden: I’ll drink to that!
He raises his hip flask to his lips and takes a swig. He then slaps his thigh, splutters and wheezes. He then wipes his brow and widens his eyes.
Holden: Those hermits missed the flavor mark on this batch, but it’s certainly got a kick!
The match before them is underway and the two competitors clumsily engage in a display of chain wrestling that makes a Donovan Hastings chat up line look smooth as silk, and furthermore does nothing to raise the spirits of the crowd.
Wrestley: These guys are just getting a feel for one another now, they have crossed paths a number of times before, but the stakes are higher than ever before.
Fear: Intriguing.
Wrestley: What is?
Fear: You consider this to be high stakes.
Wrestley: The Inter-Municipal Championship has a prestigious heritage, it’s past holders are legends of the New Jersey scene.
Holden: You are one of them, aren’t you?
Wrestley: I may have held it once or six times in the past, but that’s not the point.
Fear: The point is the current holder looks like an undercooked chicken thigh and his opponent looks like he’s 20 going on 45.
Holden: The ladies here in attendance seem quite taken with him.
Fear: If he is considered an eligible bachelor in these parts, that says a great deal about Teaneck, New Jersey.
In the ring Dos Tequila Jnr has elicited a response from the crowd by poking his opponent in the eyes and then taking a swift kick to his groin behind the referee’s back. To enforce Holden’s point it is mainly the women in the crowd who are in uproar at the events unfolding in the ring as the Champion starts to take control of his opponent.
Fear: This truly is a curious reaction, I can see no reason for the ladyfolk to take to this individual in such a manner.
Wrestley: That’s because you’ve never shared a locker room with him, and nor were you in attendance at last years ‘All Hallows Beatings’ event to witness the wardrobe malfunction that turned him face with the ladies in a flash, pardon the phrase.
Holden: Really? What we talkin’ here?
Wrestley: Let’s just say the video on Youtube was well on it’s way to 4,000 hits in the hour before it was removed for indecency.
Holden: Wow.
Wrestley: Yeah, this is kind of his side business now, a good way to advertise some of his other, more discreet, services.
Fear: Pitiful. Yet another entitled millennial decaying the fabric of our industry from the inside. Like Grey and Malone. Like Lacklan and Vaughn. No respect for that which gives them so much, merely looking on it as a stepping stone, a side gig, a singular chapter in their story, as they set their eyes on something bigger.
Wrestley: in Jessy-Joe’s case it’s not his eyes searching for something bigger that’s the issue.
The fans start to get louder as Floyd starts to mount an energetic comeback, despite his timing being slightly off, the crowd begin to chant ‘Jerry Wrestling! Jerry Wrestling!’, but they are quickly brought down to earth when the Champion cuts him off with a drop toe hold, of sorts, awkwardly transitioning into armbar. When the youngster edges close to the ropes the Drunken Matador breaks the hold and drags him to the the middle of the ring by his legs and then unloads a barrage of stomps directly to his groin. A heavyset woman in the audience stands up bellows at the Dos Tequila Jnr.
Female Fan: YOU SON OF A BITCH! I PAID GOOD MONEY FOR THAT AFTER THE SHOW!
Fear coughs.
Wrestley: I GET IT.
Holden: Well somebody has to now that he won’t.
Dos Tequilas drops the legs of his opponent and walks to the ropes, leaning over to berate the woman, the referee trying to pull him away. All the while Jerry-Joe has rolled onto his stomach and slowly starts raising himself by his arms. When the Champion finally turns round he pounces.
Wrestley: COUGAR DROP!
One...Two...Three!
A tape of a ring being run sounds across the theatre PA and the females in the audience erupt in cheers as Jerry-Joe clambers to his feet and is presented with the title belt.
Holden: Wasn’t that the Virus of Life, Rydell’s move.
Wrestley: You think he invented it?
Holden: No, you’re right, it was probably gifted to him by a former tag team partner.
Ring Announcer: Here is your winner, and New New Jersey Pro Wrestling Inter-Municipal Champion...JERRY-JOE FLOYD!
Fear: Well that certainly resembled something approaching wrestling.
Ring Announcer: What a great first match, and a popular new Champion. Let’s hear it once more for Jerry-Joe Floyd.
‘Jersey Jerry’ salutes the crowd once more before departing back behind the curtain.
Ring Announcer: Hold onto your seats, because the following contest is a Falls Count Anywhere match.
Ring Announcer: Introducing first, making his second appearance for New Jersey Pro Wrestling, The Jersey Enigma...BILL WILDERMENT!
Fear: What a colorful individual, I am sure his edgy look is by no means an attempt to distract from a distinct lack of personality.
Wrestley: How did you know Bill was an accountant?
Fear: Intuition.
Wrestley: Bill has been handling NJPW finances for years.
Fear: Has he now?
Wrestey: Yeah, I was kinda shocked when I heard he had stepped into the ring, I had no inkling that he had previously been interested in it, he never came to training. And the makeover is somewhat drastic also, Bill did NOT look like THIS when I explained to him I was joining UGWC full time.
Holden: I bet he was shocked.
Wrestley: He did go quite pale now that you mention it. He should have had some inkling, I emailed him.about the audition but apparently he'd mistakenly deleted it. He seemed quite put out by it. But we were all shocked, no one who made their name in NJPW has ever reached these heights.
Fear: Or got that much exposure.
Wrestley: Yeah, I guess it was kind of a big deal. A few other guys got close, one guy got into a car accident on the way to his try out, another was arrested the night before his Carnage debut.
Ring Announcer: Introducing his opponent, The Fighting Irishman...FINTAN O'CONNELL!
Fear: Tell me, is this Irishman also the company booker, perchance?
Wrestley: You are good at this.
Holden: Observation is kinda his ‘thing’.
Wrestley: Fintan is one of the bookers, there are a few because…
Fear: It is a family business.
Wrestley: That's right!
Fear: Bill missed an email, a few months later he is in a Falls Count Anywhere match with his boss in only his second match?
Wrestley: You don't think?
Fear: I do.
Wrestley: Well…goddamn.
Holden: SWEET JAN WNEK'S CHISEL!
Wrestley: I know, it's a tremendous revelation.
Holden: What? I wasn't listening to you guys, I just took another swig from the hermit flask.
The tape recording of a ring bell plays once more and the match is underway.
Wrestley: I’m not sure we should be watching this?
Holden: I am sure it won’t be that bad, I know hardcore matches like this are usually used to hide the weaknesses of the competitors, but the intensity on the Irish guy’s face tells me he is quite experienced in the art.
Wrestley: Gulp.
The intensity Holden speaks of manifests itself at first with a torrent of foul mouthed abuse from O’Connell to his colorful foe. Wilderment however just stands in the corner, frozen like the proverbial deer. Fintan walks right up to him, screaming in his face, accusing him of a great number of sins and immoral acts, questioning his manhood and integrity. He then insultingly delivers an open hand slap to The Jersey Enigma, who still does not respond, so he unloads another and another and another.
Holden: Is it just me, or does this feel a little uncomfortable and quite humiliating?
Fear: That, I suspect, is the point.
Holden: I don’t understand why the man with the mohawk is just standing there taking it?
And take it the man does, another torrent of slaps turn his face red, but still he does nothing to try and stem the tide. Fintan finally stops his assault on the cheeks of his opponent, and grabs him by his mohawk and tosses him to the canvas over his leg. He then starts to relentlessly put the boots into him as he falls into a ball on the floor.
Holden: Is the Irishman meant to be the hero? Why are the fans cheering these actions? Did the punk kill his dog or something? I feel like I am missing a key piece of the puzzle.
Wrestley: You don’t want to know. If I were you I’d take another hit from the flask...in fact throw me one.
Holden: You sure?
Wrestley: I am.
Holden tosses Wrestley a flask and they both raise them and take a swig.
Holden: Ah, the sweetness of the gin.
He looks over at Wrestley anticipating his disgusted reaction, but El Flippy Loco is looking back at the ring where Fintan stomps on Wilderements head.
Wrestley: I feel sick.
Holden: Sorry about that, it was a 50/50 chance you got Hermit Homebrew.
Wrestley: It’s not the drink.
The Holden’s horror The Slenderweight Sensation absentmindedly takes another swig before passing the flask back to the hipster who looks on at him in a mixture of admiration and disgust.
In the ring Bill Wilderment still shows no signs of even attempting to fight back as Fintan tosses him out of the ring to the theater floor, he then drags him over to the guard rail and throws his head face first onto the top, and repeats the action a number of times while a young boy watches on inches from the rail with tears running down his eyes.
Fintan: LOOK AT DADDY NOW!
The Irishman screams in the youngsters face before then spitting directly in the face of The Jersey Enigma. This ultimately elicits a response from the mohawked punchbag, and he swings wildly at O’Connell, connects with a few light rights, but for the most part missing his target by some distance, but he does connect by returning the saliva missile he received moments before.
Holden: Finally!
Wrestley: Why did he have to go and do that?
Holden: Because he’s a pro-wrestler, and pro-wrestlers fight back!
Wrestley: That will probably hold up in court, unfortunately.
Back on the theater floor Fintan wipes the spit from his face, and slowly raises his eyebrows and shakes his head, he blows a kiss to the mother of the weeping child, before smashing his knuckles into the side of Wilderments skull, and then clotheslining him over the guardrail into the audience.
Jumping over the rail the Fighting Irishman drags his opponent by his legs to the back of the room, and opens one of the two large and ornate oak doors that leads to the lobby. He drives Bill’s head into the closed door and then throws him to the ground and hooks hi leg around the bottom of the closed door.
Wrestley: I can’t believe this is taking place in a public venue...pass me the flask.
Fintan reaches up and unhooks the fire safety mechanism from the top of the heavy oak door, and then swings it closed with all his might, crushing The Jersey Enigma’s leg between the two doors. He cocks his head, unsatisfied and swings the door open and closed once more, he shakes his head and then hefts the door a third time. On this occasion when it impacts Wilderments knee, a loud pop and crackle followed by a scream of agony from Bill tell him his job is done.
He then makes an academic cover, and the referee makes the three count.
Ring Announcer: Here is your winner….FINTAN O’CONNELL.
The crowd are not stunned into silence like McWrestleface, and cheer the result loudly, and pop even harder when O’Connell picks his beaten opponent up and tosses him through the doors into the Lobby.
Fintan: YOU BETTER DISAPPEAR!
Ring Announcer: I don’t think we’ll be seeing Bill Wilderment in New Jersey Pro Wrestling again any time soon.
Wrestley: Or anywhere near the Tri-State area.
Ring Announcer: Now that has been dealt with, it’s time to move swiftly along to our next contest, the New Jersey Pro Wrestling Tag Team Championship Match!!!
Ring Announcers: Introducing the challengers…’Ice Hard’ Barry Harris...and Paul ‘Crusher’ Harris...THE TWO BROTHER ARMY!
The crowd erupts in a chorus of boos as the two men emerge from the curtain, they saunter down to the ring flipping of the fans indiscriminately and engaging in unprovoked verbal tirades. When they enter the ring, Paul ‘Crusher’ Harris grabs the microphone from the hapless announcer and scowls at the crowd before speaking.
Paul ‘Crusher Harris: It sucks to be here in Teaneck! But you know what sucks even more than this cesspit and you people? The fact that the Tag Team Championships we worked so hard to make mean something in this company are currently held by two freaks!
‘Ice Hard’ Barry Harris stands to the side of his brother, arms crossed, nodding.
Paul ‘Crusher’ Harris: It’s an embarrassment that we have to be here, it’s humiliating that we have to step foot in a ring with freaks like that!
At this point both men turn, and they look directly up at the box the UGWC Entertainment Professionals inhabit.
Paul ‘Crusher’ Harris: speaking of freaks, we hear our old friend Wrestley McWrestleface is in attendance tonight.
The crowd lets out a cheer.
Paul ‘Crusher’ Harris: Oh shut up! Do you think he gives two shits about any of you? He’s up there in a box with his new friends from Chicago, lording it over the rest of us before he flys out to some exotic location. You think he wanted to be associated with any of you? He specifically requested to be seated away from you all!
The fans don’t believe him and start chanting for Wrestley, who obliges them by sticking his head out and waving to the largest pop of the night.
Paul ‘Crusher’ Harris: Why don’t you give them what they want McWrestlefuck? Why don’t you come down here and I’ll beat your ass before my brother and I win the tag Championships! You can even bring your friends.
Fear: I do not believe that would be a wise course of action.
Fear motions to the crowd where Fintan O’Connell remains lurking close to ringside, staring daggers up at the box.
Wrestley: I’m not a complete idiot.
Paul ‘Crusher’ Harris: See, he’s a worthless coward, he’s never beaten me before, and never can. What does that say about all those frauds over in Chicago? Now bring out those two other freaks so me and my brother can prove yet more of your precious heroes are nothing more than walking sacks of garbage. Just like each and everyone of you.[/color]
The crowd start to hurl garbage in the ring, but they turn to cheers the moment the next music is played.
The crowd erupts with a cheer that McWrestleface’s own only slightly dwarfed.
Ring Announcer: And their opponents, The New Jersey pro Wrestling Tag Team Champions….The Camden Carrot….Peekatyou….WRESTLEMON ORANGE!!!
The colorful duo sprint around the ring, hi-fiving fans and posing for selfies.
Fear: What am I looking at?
Holden: Well the chunky yellow one is a homage to a popular computer game and cartoon franchise, and the orange one is a Carrot.
Fear: I see.
Holden: I am more of a Magi-Nation man, myself.
Wrestley: Of course you are.
The match gets underway and almost immediately the Two Man Army isolate the Camden carrot and cut the ring in half, making successive tags to keep him grounded and away from his opponent.
Wrestley: Two Man Army are the most successful tag team in NJPW history, and Paul is one of the most successful performers in the companies history.
Holden: You never beat him, huh?
Wrestley: That is beside the point.
The Harris’ start to use time honored heel traditions to distract the ref and get some cheap shots in on The orange Hero as the fans levels of distaste rise, their boo’s getting louder by the minute.
Wrestley: Interesting fact, while The Harris Brothers are two of the most reviled wrestlers on the East Coast, when they perform in California and the West Coast they are huge fan favourites, going under the name of Paul and Barry Chuckle, The Chuckle Brothers. They mix stiff wrestling with slapstick hijinx to great reactions.
Fear: Curiouser and curiouser.
In the ring the Camden Carrot manages a brief comeback and looks for the hot tag, but at the very last moment ‘Ice Hard’ Barry Harris grabs him by the leg and drags him back to their corner to the displeasure of the fans.
Holden: I will admit, at first these brothers looked like nothing more than the sort of guys that beg change from me when I am buying my weekly edition of Antiquing Tales magazine from the newstand, but they are proving to be a formidable unit.
Wrestley: Sometimes appearances can be deceiving. We’ve seen that in UGWC recently, if they weren’t do you think Alan Wallace would have ever dreamed of teaming with Konrad Raab? It was the latter surpassing the formers expectations that changed his mind. But those expectations were only low because Wallace did not look past the impression of a bedraggled 50 year old man with signs of acute brain damage.
Holden: How do you explain him teaming with the Natural Born killer, then? You get exactly what your first impression of that guy is, a box full of crazy.
Wrestley: Even the most successful and confident amongst us get desperate at times. Beggars can’t be choosers, after all.
Holden: Did you just call Vain a beggar?
Wrestley: If the shoe fits.
Holden: I’m beginning to warm to you, kid.
Their attention is drawn back to the ring as the crowd yells in approval as the hot tag is finally made and Peekatyou barrels into the ring, laying out Barry with a lariat and then the onrushing Paul with a knee to the midsection that flips him 180 degrees onto the canvas.
The stunned brothers roll out of the ring to regroup, but as they stand to their feet they look up to see Peekatyou in flight, attempting a plancha, however his foot gets caught and he comes down short, Barry managing to move forward in just time to be struck slightly by the boot of the Wrestlemon, falling sidewards and taking his brother down with him..
Holden: JUMPING JEHOVAH’S!
Wrestley: Impressed
Holden: Nope. Hermit Homebrew.
Back in the ring Peekatyou is building up a head of steam, sending Paul ‘Crusher’ harris down to his knees, but as he runs the ropes Barry emerges from the arena floor and slams a chair into the Wrestlemon’s back as he collides with the ropes. He stumbles towards ‘The Hoboken Hardman’ who kicks him in the gut and then lifts him up and slams him down with a Jackknife Powerbomb, as his brother pulls the Carrot down from the Canvas.
Wrestley: DREAM CRUSHER!
The referee makes the three count to a crescendo of boos from the audience. The Two brother Army grab the titles and roll from the ring, laughing and patting each other on the back as the Camden carrot slides into the ring to console his partner.
Ring Announcer: Here are your winners, and NEW NJPW Tag Team Champions...THE TWO BROTHER ARMY!!!
Paul grabs the microphone from the announcers hands.
Paul ‘Crusher’ Harris: Play our music!
Paul ‘Crusher’ Harris: GODDAMN IT KAREN! NOT THAT ONE!
Paul and Barry scuttle off sheepishly with their belts and the ring crew emerge from backstage to sweep the garbage that has been thrown into the ring.
Ring Announcer: That’s the end of the first part of our show, we will now take a short break. Remember you still have time to buy photoshoots with your favourite NJPW stars at the merchandise tables, and you have five minutes left to purchase your raffle tickets.
The UGWC Entertainment Professionals take the opportunity to one by one use the boxes private bathroom, but we will not go into detail about that here, if you want that there are other forums for you.
When they return the raffle is being drawn.
Ring Announcer: The Third prize is 4 tickets to our very next show here in teaneck on may 4th...and the ticket is….Yellow 872.
A man stands up brandishing a ticket.
Ring Announcer: Just give your details to Karen at the desk and she’ll sort you out...Second Prize, Any item of merchandise from the stalls and a photoshoot with your favourite Wrestler...and the ticket is...Orange 4274….that’s Orange 42...74….
A young child screams in joy.
Ring Announcer: Just show the ticket at the table young man. And finally, the grand prize, 4 Tickets to May’s show, a choice of two pieces of merchandise AND an authentic signed photo of Michael ‘Fade’ Gordy....and the winner is…[/color]
Holden: C’mon Blue 70 to 89...C’mon…
Ring Announcer: Blue 79...Blue 79…
Holden jumps a little in his chair and then looks through his tickets, he stares at them for a moment and shuffles through them…
Holden: I got four strips...where’s the other? This can’t be happening to me!
Holden drops to the floor and looks under the seats, as he scrambles around he hears the Ring Announcer speak.
Ring Announcer: Ah, Sir, if you’d just like to present your ticket at the desk.
Holden slowly gets to his feet and looks down to see Phrixus Deimos walking to the merchandise table and handing over a blue ticket.
Holden: He stole my ticket? Of course he did.
Ring Announcer: It is now time for the second part of our show!
Ring Announcer: The Following Match is scheduled for One Fall, introducing first, making his NJPW debut...BART RAMSBOTTOM!
The fans are largely indifferent to the entrance of Ramsbottom, despite his strange appearance and mannerisms.
Holden: Well I thought I’d seen it all when I saw a Wrestling Pokemon…
Wrestley: I hear he had a tryout with UGWC last year, but got rejected.
Holden: Maybe he should have waited for the Global Challenge, they were taking anyone back then, weren’t they?
Wrestley: Screw you.
Ring Announcer: And his opponent, BOBO BAGGINS!!!!
The crowd react warmly to the short rotund individual who appears from beneath the curtain.
Wrestley: Bobo is a good friend of mine.
Holden: You keep interesting company.
Baggins immediately goes right after Bart, connecting with numerous forearm shots to his jaw. He doubles him over with a kick to the stomach, before heading towards the opposite ropes. Bouncing off, he runs towards him at full speed, but he runs his over with a shoulder block. Elbow drop attempt from Bart, but Bobo rolls out of the way and quickly returns to his feet. Spinning heel kick finds its mark, taking Bart off his feet. Bobo bounces back up and springboards off the middle rope, hitting a leg drop.
At this point Fear returns to the booth with a bag of prizes.
Holden:Oh here he is, the great and might raffle swiper!
Fear removes a framed picture from the bag.
Fear: You may have this.
He hands it to Holden.
Holden: Damn right I can, it was my ticket.
Fear: It is as I suspected, all the memorabilia on display are poor forgeries.
Holden: No!
Fear: yes. That picture is signed ‘Mitchell ‘Face’ Gorrby’
Holden looks closely and sighs.
Fear: Would you like the ticket?
Holden: On principle, yes.
Fear: It is in the compost bin on the left over there.
Fear looks into the ring as the action continues.
Bobo rolls over and gets up to his hands and knees, dodging a punt kick that came extremely close to putting his lights out. Scurrying back to his feet, he throws a superkick out as Bart turns back around, but he sees it and drops to the mat, rolling under the bottom rope and out to the floor.
Fear: I have observed many of moves implemented by Bobo are the same as our own Roxy Cotton.
Wrestley: Well…
Holden: And for a guy of his stature he pulls them off incredibly well.
Wrestley: I’m told he had the very best teacher for a while.
Bobo back to his feet and connects with a few kicks, before bending down and grabbing the arm of Bart Ramsbottom. Using all of his strength, he pulls him to his feet and attempts to Irish whip him across the ring into the corner. He then launches at him and hits a bronco buster followed by a bansai drop.
Wrestley: TEA BAGGINS!
He rolls over and gets the cover and the three count to the joy of the fans.
Ring Announcer: Here is your winner….BOBO BAGGINS!
Fear looks across the theatre and sees some commotion behind the merchandise stalls as they start to hurriedly pack away.
Fear: Hmm. I think we ought to leave.
Wrestley: And miss the Wall of Mirrors?
Fear: I enjoy gimmick infringement as much as the next man, but this match will not last long.
He looks back down and can see that the merchandise stands have already nearly been stripped bare.
Fear: Trust me. We must leave now.
Ring Announcer: It is now time for our Main Event and The Wall of Mirrors Match.
A sharp look from Phrixus encourages both Holden and Wrestley to stand and leave the box and head for the exits as on the stage a row of 5 full length mirrors tied together with rope are revealed next to the entrance curtain.
Ring Announcer: to Win the Match you must put your opponent through the Wall of Mirrors!
The crowd ooh and ahh and are distracted as our trio snake their way through the audience. As they do Fintan o’Connell runs out of from behind the curtain in his street clothes, clutching a large duffel bag. He slides in the ring and whispers something to the ring announcer who goes pale as his boss slides out of the ring, and darts over the barricade.
Ring Announcer: Introducing first the Challenger...X-Bro 420…
X-Bro walks through the curtain and spreads his arms, Wrestley turns back to look, just as The Two Man Army burst out from behind the curtain and pound on X-Bro 420, as they do Phobos Timore emerges and points to the Wall of Mirrors, and they raise the large frame of ‘The Gargantuan Gamer’ into the air, and deliver a double chokeslam through the
Mirrors.
Fear: I told you it would be short. Now move.
Phobos grabs a microphone as the Harris Brothers continue to beat on X Bro-420.
Phobos: I warned him, but he did not heed my words…
X-Bro 420 lies in a bloody puddle as Barry and Paul each take a knee either side of The Manifestation of Panic as the crowd begin to pelt them with garbage.
Phobos: They are the disciples of my doctrine of despair….
Just before they exit into the lobby Fear turns back and looks at the scene as Phobos Timore flanked by the Two Brother Army raises the NJPW Heavyweight Championship above his head.
Phobos: And this is The Second Tenure of Terror.
Fear looks from the trio on the stage to Wrestley and Holden as they head through the Lobby.
Fear: Hmm.
He then joins them as they cross the lobby and open the doors to the street, just as the sirens and the lights start to get closer.
2013, '18, '23 
2013 