WrestleStock '11 Day One

[Red Bull Icon]

Before the bustling background of New Orleans City Park stands a smug disinterested visage unknown to most UGWC fans. It is clear that Wrestlestock ’11 is already in full swing by the sheer level of noise as the man brings a microphone to his lips.

?: So, you don’t know me I bet. That’s fine. I don’t know any of you. Can’t really seem to give two craps about ya, either, but I got the god damned mic so there. Allow me, like yous got a choice, to introduce myself. Name’s Bjorn Lamphead. Some of you recognize the name. Truth is truth I almost saved that shit hole LWF. Signed, saw, and bailed. Fuck that place. They say I got scared, and I did. *pft* Scared I might cripple someone.

So what are doing here now than Mr. Lamphead? Yeah that’s what you should be thinking. Don’t ask though cause I aint talking to any of you little never was’. But to answer the question. Fucking service contract or some shit. I don’t know, but my attorney said I gotta do it or be sued. Fucking lawsuits in wrestling! Anyway, pay checks a pay check right? And this pay check’s gonna keep that cheating bitch off my ass for a good three months. And what a hooker and blow filled three months it’s gonna be. That’s a fact!

But let’s cut the crap, eh? You all seem to dig this UGWC shit so let me be the first to say fuck off! How could you support any product that tries to pass itself off without Bjorn! *pft* What evers. Listen up so this is Wrestlestock. There’s a bunch of feds with three or four letter initials that I don’t know because I don’t, wont, work there on site. They’re gonna be showcasing their unique brand of what they call talent. There’s sideshows and attractions. Without Bjorn so you know they’ll suck, but I gotta, by contract, say they’re gonna, gonna… fucking film nerd… gonna be off, da, chizzle, yo.

But just like Bjorn here I don’t think any of you all out there surrounded by your spankerchief mountain give a sweet diapered Jesus shit about any of that. UGWC fans I heard are rabid. Or have rabies. Fuck it. You all want your stars like Bjorn wants a god damned all natural big tittied red head. So here’s Medos.

The camera pans out enough to see Bjorn joined by Medos who’s wearing the UGWC Chaos Championship over his shoulder. Medos seems a bit distracted by the crowd and the group of screaming frat boys as they pass by the camera. Medos shakes his head before his attention is reined in by Bjorn.

Bjorn: Medos over here, ah, bloke. Glad you could make it.

Medos smiles and nods before looking off in the distance at the spectacle cause by the largest gathering of wrestling fans in history.

Bjorn: Whatever. Let’s make this fast. I heard Chris Austin Productions is holding a wet t-shirt contest, and I figure with enough coke I can one of those porn girls to pretend she’s into it. Medos, you’re the Chaos Champ.

Medos: Yeah, proudly. Through hard work and determin…

Bjorn: Fascinating. You’re aware this is the Chaos day of Wrestlestock? You know the more I say that I thought it’d start to sound natural, but who ever names this shit for the UGWC needs a new day job.

Medos: OK?

Bjorn: Fuck it. The consortium, see?, figured they wanted some chaos. So they didn’t book any UGWC matches. Sounds lazy not so much chaotic. Not like last month in Medford at all.

Medos: What?

Bjorn: Fucker pay attention. The consortium, fuck that’s horrible, the consortium says whoever has that Chaos belt at the end of today’s ‘official’, read not dropping acid in the back of pedobear’s van, happenings is gonna keep it.

Medos: So I have to defend against all the other five guys featured today? I’m fine with that.

Bjorn: No bitch, and I’m say it quite to give you a head start. You have to defend against everyone here. That’s how I read it, well it was read to me, anyway.

Medos: What!

Bjorn: Yeah, only reason Bjorn hasn’t already laid you out is the superstar that is Bjorn is a big enough target for all these no bodies. Don’t need another assault charge. There ya go. I’ma go check out that titty show. Hey there’s your ref.

Bjorn walks off as the camera stays on Medos. His eyes widening as he looks around at sea of potential opponents. Then his mouth closes, his eyes narrow, he adjusts the belt on his shoulder, and he proudly walks around in the crowd followed closely by Hazel East.

[Red Bull Icon]

Medos continues his walk amongst the crowd. Signing autographs and posing for pictures as he does. He passes the slowly but surely growing lines at the port-a-potty ally. He passes a family staking out a place in the grass to sit down and eat their seven dollar nachos while fending off mosquitoes that are bigger than the tiny broken chips they planned to eat.

Medos stops at a tent proudly displaying the artifacts of extreme wrestling. Dented and bloodied chairs. Rows upon rows of lost teeth. Fingers and ears preserved in formaldehyde jars. Ripped and torn masks. Pictures of bloody and beaten men and women. The barbwire that sliced into Gabby’s underboob. Broken canes and shards of shattered glass.

He can’t help but gush like the rest of the fans as the memories flood back while looking at the memorabilia of his favorite stars of yesterday. A little kid, six or seven years old, finally gets his picture standing in front of a life sized cutout of a giant French wrestler from the 70’s with a huge afro. Medos walks towards the cut out, looks up that huge tiny toothed smile, and the kid asks him for a picture.

The kids father squints behind his camera as Medos kneels beside the child placing the Chaos Championship over the boys shoulder. As the camera flashes into the tent the crack of a well rested but worn chair rings out. Medos falls forward the kid scrambling to his daddy as the Natural Born Killer walks into the frame.

Medos gets to his feet in time to get knocked back down by the chair swinging NBK. The Killer kicks Medos in the ribs before he can get back up causing Medos to roll out into the walkway. The fans instantly recognize the commotion being caused by two of UGWC’s Entertainment Professionals and clear a circle for them to duke it out in.

Medos charges NBK taking him down. NBK rolled through and ending in side control raining elbows into the nose of Medos. NBK stands up pulling Medos with him. Before he can attack Medos locks in a waist lock, overhead belly to belly suplex dumping NBK on the grass. Medos goes for a pin, East starts a count, and NBK kicks out.

Medos stomps on the masked man before helping him to his feet so he can throw him through the crowd and into the exhibit of extreme. NBK launches back out of the tent with a crushed trash can. Medos evades. NBK swings, Medos side steps, NBK swings, Medos dodges, NBK feigns attack, Medos ducks, and when he stands up NBK places the can under the champs chin, and smashes them both into the ground.

Medos falls back. The aluminum can sunken into the ground stands on its own. NBK covers. East counts the three. NBK shoots up to his feet, searches frantically for the belt, and sees the kid still has it. The Killer quickly snatches it from the child and his frightened father before meandering off with East in tow.

[Red Bull Icon]

Alone, as his habit of finding solitude prevails, NBK leans against the wheel well of an RV parked in the center of hundreds or thousands of other cars. He holds the Chaos Title in his lap as his head shakes violently.

NBK: Never… never again… dances will be danced… all will line up… The Screams… The Screams will… I won’t be ignored… They’ll have their pick of partner… menu for every occasion… Charleston of Chaos…

Without warning a shovel invades the screen and smacks into NBK’s face pinning him between the shovel and the RV. NBK falls forward as the asymmetric blood splatter begins to fill his mask. There’s a cover, there’s a three, and a skinny long haired man in tasseled neon tights and hot pink sleeveless shirt covering his less than impressive physique stands up jumping. He grabs the belt, shakes his fists in self congratulation, and runs away as NBK starts to stir.

[Red Bull Icon]

A montage follows of long lines waiting to buy over priced bottles of water. Patient vendors on frayed nerves as they look for that last cone of pink cotton candy. A policeman takes a report from a woman as she uses her boyfriend to act out the groping she had apparently fallen victim of. Smiling children, aching feet parents, and sun burnt teens.

Then finally a woman with freakishly huge breasts and a comically small bikini under a white but dry shirt stands on a stage looking slightly bored and highly annoyed.

Bjorn: It’s just tame is all, Chris. I’ve seen your video tape DVD mpeg library your company’s put out. I was expecting more is all I’m saying.

Former GIW Hardcore Champion turned pornographer stands on the stage with a mic in hand next to a row of buckets of water.

Chris Austin: Tame? How far do you want Bell to go here in front of all the kids in the crowd.

Bjorn: KIDS! Who the fuck brings kids to shit like this. Do they want their daughters scouted for future projects. You’d probably put’em to work wouldn’t you you sick fuck. Find a cute one when their twelve, train them up nice and slutty, a little surgery, and you finally get your Cara. That’s the trouble with parents these days nothing but…

A man in a headset runs up and kneels beside Bjorn whispering something in his ear that stops the hosts speech.

Bjorn: No, I don’t know who that is. Don’t give a sweet masked Jesus or a fuck either. So some 80’s indy cum stain beat some masked deranged skid mark for a belt in the parking lot. I’m not announcing that, that’s to be expected isn’t it? Chris just let ya tits on legs…

The man interrupts Bjorn again as Austin looks on whimsically.

Austin: Folks, the Chaos or Hardcore as I knew it division’s always held a special place in my heart. When I was competing it was the belt that dictated who was the man to beat. While other belts were passed around like Bjorn’ings mother on a Tuesday morning the Hardcore title was fiercely defended, and if you won it it was because you damn near had to beat a man to death for it. This is the Chaos day of Wrestlestock, and I’m not going to let some piece of work pussy who was to afraid to mix it up with real wrestlers ruin my day. Am I right? So, I’m sure you’re all enjoying the show so far as much as I am. Let’s get back to it. Hit the music. Bell, if you will.

The music ‘Porn Star Dancing’ picks up and Bell begins shimming across the stage towards a dozen other women as Austin starts the hose.

Bjorn: What, WHat, WHAT! No, I wasn’t ready! Start over! Do Over, I demand a DO OVER!

The music doesn’t stop, the dancing continues, Austin hops off the stage and is joined by the entirety of the audience in escorting Bjorn away from the stage. Bjorn looks to the guy in the headset who tells him something off camera.

Bjorn: Not my job to look at boobies!? I’m Bjorn, guy. I don’t job for nothing never! But fine, sense you got me kicked out by Chris Autism’s with his high moral code’s show fine I’ll say it. Folks at home, in your underwear, blowing sharts all over your couch or bean bag chair with Dorito crumbs on your gas station uniform shirt that you’re too lazy to take off after work that smells like a mix of B.O., stale Mountain Dew, and Right Guard if you missed it some retard thought anyone could win the Chaos title. And another window licker was foolish enough to let himself get knocked out and loose the Chaos title. Wait, I thought anyone could win the retard title.

The camera shows who is obviously a producer now shake his head, and thanks to not being mic’ed say something.

Bjorn: Chaos title, whatever. And that’s how it was read to me by YO MOMMA! Hey anyone know where I can get some X? I’m saving my booze for the drinking contest, but my chill is wearing off.

Bjorn wanders off as the camera refocuses on the producer who’s listening intently to his headset. The producer gestures for the camera to get moving in the opposite direction.

[Red Bull Icon]

The shot cuts to a second cameraman’s frame in a full sprint trying his best to keep up with Hazel East who is trying her hardest to catch up to Enigma who is at full stride chasing after the current as of yet unnamed Chaos Championship holder. The guy with the belt though has a huge lead as the weaves in and out of the crowd. Passing a family in a state of panic as they look for the lost child. Zipping by a couple after the man was caught checking out another female fan. Hurdling over a souvenir counter before knocking boxes of forty dollar shirts to the ground to slow Enigma’s progess.

Then falling hard on this face and tumbling forward after Paul Cockatoo trips him up. Paul covers hooking both legs, the man in the pink shirt can’t kick out, East isn’t there yet, finally one, two, and Enigma tackles JK as Ezekiel stomps on Cockatoo breaking the pin. Enigma sitting on JK’s chest begins to pummel Jordan King as the Cyclone does his best to cover up.

Zeke snatches the camera from the cameraman just as the first cameraman finishes his sprint across the grounds as the crowd is forming another circle around the action. Pax slams the camera into the back of Enigmas head sending him to the ground and off the other have of The Vicious Kind before hurling it at Cockatoo still on the ground. Zeke helps JK up as they survey the damage and watch as the tasseled turd runs off still carrying the belt.

Ezekiel: You wanna…

JK: Nah, not really worth it is it?

Zeke: Nope you’re above that, bro.

The Vicious Kind to round of jeers start to walk away through the crowd before they’re both tackled by Enigma and Cockatoo setting off a chorus to cheers. Ezekiel on the ground as Enigma jumps back to his feet, grabs a baby stroller, and whips it callously onto Zeke as the mother barely manages to get her child out in time as Enigma continues the assault.

Paul delivers shot after shot to JK until JK sees his opening to poke his thumb in Cockatoo's eye before sending a fist into his former partners doodle. The Cyclone gets behind Enigma, starts up a chaos theory belly to back suplex, lets go allowing both men to roll out to their feet, and then nails a picture perfect Pele. A now bloodied Zeke stands up beside JK. Cockatoo and Enigma square off against the Vicious Kind...

Boss P: DON'T KICK DA BOSS! DON'T KICK DA BOSS! DA BOSS DIDN'T TOUCH YA HO!

The sight of a terrified Boss P waddling full bore away from the lumbering chase of the Jackal of Jwar Isle is enough of a distraction for JK to nob at Zeke before both high tail it through the crowd. Paul and Enigma can't do much besides shrug and show a confused look before Enigma takes the first step to chase. Cockatoo grabs his arm while shaking his head.

Cockatoo: We'll get them.

[Red Bull Icon]

Another montage flashes across the screen. It's getting dark out but the heat hasn't subsided. A fat in crotch torn jeans holds up his bloody blubbery hands in victory inside one of the rings, the lights go out, screen begins to flicker, almost like a lightning storm. As it flashes, you can see a hooded figure standing inside of a room. The more it flashes, the closer the figure gets to the camera. The figure holds its hands up and a sign flickers in his hands. It appears blank until the number 3 appears on the card. As everything comes into focus, the video is replaced with still framed pictures. Pictures of grown men standing by idly as their women shop. They're hands to full to even hand their head. Pictures of a darkened set with couch and desk that's roped off to keep the masses at bay.

Past photo ops of fans with wrestlers most probably don't even know. Autograph booths, some with lines, some without. Past the bright toxic halogen lights of a dart toss, ring toss, bottle toss, and test of strength hammer games. The same generic prizes litter every stall. A framed picture of Gabrielle in bed being felt up by Boss P, huge inflatable toys in the shape of hammers and bats, plush bears highlighting the most distinct aspect of some of the UGWC roster or simply the ring gear of others.

Then the dude that thinks his the Chaos Champion standing in front of Moss Edwards and Dexter Vines. A smaller balding man in a cheap suit to his right.

Pinky: ...And I want 3 million a year, a private jet, a personal training session with Katie Piper...

Suit: Yeah, yeah, he wants 3 million a year and to bang Katie Piper...

Pinky: ...I want my own action figure with super articulation, a guaranteed stop in some kind of hall of fame, I want...

Suit: Hall of fame! Big plaque of him with Piper bent over. But oh knows, I aint letting him outta his contract boys!

Pinky: ... or so help me I swear to god I'll toss this belt in the trash. I'll find a camera and no no no I'll through it the gulf! Katrina got shit on me! Sign me or get disgraced!...

Suit: Yeah, but you can't, cause I got him locked in. Iron clad contract, he aint getting out. Shit only way you can employ him is to buy me out. Purchase my fed, but it's not for sale losers!

Pinky: ... Yeah 3 million a year, a jet, Katie's bean, a toy, and some heroin. Lots and lots of heroin, but you gotta get me outta my... contract... first.

Suit: 12 mill...ion.

Old Bob has taken a spot next to Vines and Edwards who have stood patiently listening to the ramblings of these two small time extortionists. Old Bob however, unlike the other 2/3's of the Consortium, doesn't break eye contact with either man unless it's to stare down the other. A scowl on his face and now silence in the air he reaches out and the loser in frayed tights hands over the Chaos Championship before the camera almost misses his head forcefully removed from the frame with a disgustingly wet thud.

Johnny Blake rests the hammer from the ring the bell game on Pinky's chest and East counts a fast 3 before looking at Ooley and waiting for a response. Old Bob hands the belt to Blake who spits down on the fallen would be superstar and walks off. East holds her hands out almost begging Ol' Bob for a reaction. Then finally holding up her hands in the classic 'X' again urging the Director of Human Resources to do something. And he does. Walks away as the suit falls over his friend.

Old Bob: Sometimes you gotta take care of business boys. Other times you gotta protect it.

[Red Bull Icon]

It's now past dusk and completely dark save the artificial lighting. In the ring we're shown the highlights of a midget scaffold match. Two short little dwarfs teetering on the very top, trades shots, balancing as best they can, one falls. Crashes through numerous tables stacked high enough to know those to midgets didn't do it, and landing at the feet of Prince Rudo. Even through the mask it's clear Rudo's displeased with what is happening.

Further snippets of today's activities show us the closing moments of another match. The winner declared after strapping his opponent to a cross, and hoisting up for all to see. His roster mates taking turns hitting the loser with Singapore Canes. In the background Moss Edwards is seen with his hands on his head and a shocked look on his face as he turns to another suit who's beaming at the show his guys are putting on.

Then finally we settle on Bjorn seated in the beer tent eying the bar tender. Kim Tacker behind the bar as Kyle is standing in front of the last few remaining contestants of a drinking contest. Bjorn is once again interrupted by a producer.

Bjorn: So, ah, honey, wanna get Bjorn Again? Change your... huh?

Bjorn's distraction is more of an opening than Kim needed to replace his beer with a Shirley Temple.

Bjorn: They never said nothing about keeping a running tab on what was going on. I was told, no I told them, yeah no one but no one tells Bjorn he tells you! Yeah. Bjorn! I told them I'd show up, get my check, and hang out. I'm not 'hosting' shit. What do I look like some starving actor doing any little gay porn scene just to put food on the table because I can't put down the crack pipe so I let someone start piping my crack in-between commercial auditions for Valtrex that I need because of one dreadful night with your mother-sister?

A big man, trucker probably, keels over and hits the dirt hard. A skinny man, probably another trucker, stands up victorious before hitting the dirt himself. As Kim walks up to Kyle and whispers something in his ear.

Tacker: And there's your winner!

And Tacker steps down off the pedestal where the drink contest final two were 'competing'. Bjorn disgusted by the producer, repulsed by the contest, but grateful to find a place without children turns back to his beer without looking. Then spits it the non-alcoholic kids drink.

?: Oi!

Bjorn looks up making eye contact with a soaked Johnny Blake.

Bjorn: What want an autograph? You got any smack?

Johnny: Yeah, I got a lot of smack.

And he does. Repeatedly. Ballistic unloads a beating onto Bjorn of a degree that makes you question the existence of god. Then Riot saves the day with a bar stool to Blake's face. A cover and a one count. Both men up, both look for a spear, both knock into a biker type who'd not had the best day. It was hot, the lines were huge, there was no promised kissing booth with Gabby, just a bunch of random no names trying to wrestle, and not a single gang *CENSORED BY PROBOARDS OR TROBS FUCKING FILTER*. And 8 bucks for a fucking beer!

That was reason enough for him and quickly everyone else able to join in, and before to long the entire beer tent was embroiled in a brawl. Bjorn on the ground is trampled on by the brutality. Bottles and chairs and stools and tables and coolers and midgets and women and 2x4's and everything else not bolted down flies through the air as Blake and Tacker wrestle out of the tent.

An early twenties douche helps Tacker up while patting his back, and receives a right cross for his efforts. An older man, graying hair and a sweater on an 80 degree night, stands between Blake and Tacker asking for an autograph. He gets a head butt to the nose and thrown to the ground before Ballistic and Riot rip into each other again while the rest of the beer tent falls down forcing everyone out into the walk ways.

It's not long until like a wild fire the fight spreads. And then the fires. Spotted at first dotting the fare grounds. Tacker's sent face first into a falafel stand. Blake is sent head long into a frozen banana cart. Punches, kicks, elbows, blood, championships, and glory. Tacker pulls up an extension cord to choke Blake. Blake swings wildly with a tent post. Tacker ducks and hits a chain fist wrapped modified Shut Your Mouth! East with the count for Tacker's cover, and a three count.

A far away shot shows the carnage as Tacker hoists the Chaos Championship high over his head. Standing out though is a single calm figure. A paragon of peace amidst the anarchy. Sauntering around. Aimlessly wandering. Back to a close up of Tacker's celebration cut short by Blake's Ballistic Buster. His covers broken by a great big fat fatty falling over backwards following a Kim Tacker's knee to the groin as the sirens blare in the background. Not phased Blake locks in the Muppet Breaker and a shovel breaks at it's handle over the back of his head. The Natural Born Killer moves loosely a strange mix of excited calm as Tacker pushes to his feet. Kyle turns in time to see a Rumor Has It coming his way, but not in time to do anything about it. Both men crash into a wall of riot shield wielding police officers. They surround both men as East scrambles to the floor in the middle and counts a three.

She hands NBK the belt she'd picked up, and the swat officers force both back to the ground locking in the zip tie cuffs as the first fire truck arrives on scene. We cut to a shot of Bjorn crawling out from under the toppled tent.

Bjorn: Fuck this place. Bunch of heathen bloodthirsty thugs is all they are. I haven't seen so much thoughtless destruction and disrespect for someone of Bjorn's caliber sense Thanksgiving at Grandma's. I guess that's gonna end the first day of Wrestlestock, maybe even the rest if the po po gets their way. Fuck it. My job's done, where's my check, and I guess that bloody masked guy is the winner.

Officer: Shut down the camera and get on the ground!

Bjorn: Bitch don't you know who I...

*KAKAKAKAKAKAK*

Bjorn: You didn't have to tazer Bjorn!

*KAKAKAKAKAKAK*

Officer: Shut your mouth and turn that camera off or you nex/

The feed abruptly shuts off filling the screen with static before black.

[Red Bull Icon]

Aight. Aint never done this before, aint ever doing it again. Hope I didn't fuck it up to bad. Here's your votes.

Votes

Medos - 15
Enigma - 41
Cockatoo - 44
Blake - 51
Tacker - 57
NBK - 74


Now yall gotta live wid it.

[princerudo]

That was crazy, good job putting that all together, all the little skits in the middle were very entertaining and helped lead towards that riot at the end. Congrats to NBK for the win.

[Jet Somers]

Well that was just about the only way that could have gone, and if it hadn't ended in a riot I'd be upset. Nice touch bringing in the riot cops to bring the Chaos Day to a close. Very impressive stipulation, and a hilarious bit of working in an upstart no name wrestler trying to parlay a contract. I also love how you worked in a lot of people's secondary characters AND Rudo. Just goes to show how I have said before that you have this grasp on people's characters and stories.

Totally thrilled by this, and it was a helluva way to kick off WrestleStock. And great job to NBK.

[EZRA]

Congrats to NBK. Definitely going places, bro. Well done.

Ty, this was awesome. It wasn't hard to follow and I think it all meshed together really well. I couldn't imagine doing this on my own. Fuckin awesome job, bro.

[Alex Kiseragi]

Awesome show. Felt different to any show done before, guess thats what the absence of any commentators would do but I liked it. The ending was great. The guy trying to get himself a contract was cool. May have to think of a way for Alex to put some hurting on him for disrespecting Katie, not how that will work or if Johnny did a good enough job of it.

[T-Robosaurus Rex]

Just superb dude, thanks so much for taking the day, I know how much work it is, but you've certainly set the bar real high, not sure I can match this on the World Title day as it flowed well, gave an awesome sense of the festival atmosphere, and was better than I could have hoped for.

Like I say you've set the bar high for Steve and I, great work.

[Orgabsmic]

Brilliant work, it was crazier, funnier and more entertaining than I had imaged Wrestlestock too be. Loved all the backstage moments, and the hopeful wrestler, Ty chasing Boss P, etc. and all without hurting the flow of what the day is.

[Lord Hastings]

A phenomenal start to WrestleStock, we couldn't have asked for anything more. This had a perfect feel and flow for "Chaos Day" and it will definitely contrast nicely with the next two days. We're going to end up with three very different days, each with its own style and flavor, I'm personally already very happy with how this event is going, I'm sure Rob is too.

You knocked it out of the park, man. Well done.