E-Wrestling Channel

Best Face
Talon- Hostility
Scarlett Willis- Simcoe County
Sebastian Cross- Totally Fictional Wrestling Federation

Suave: “Our next presenter comes to us from High Octane Wrestling.  She also manages in Dream Wrestling Federation and Political Championship Wrestling and is one half of the tag team the Mercenaries.  She’s the Demolition Machine in a Short Skirt- Dawn McGill!”

McGill walks out to the podium.

McGill: “The next two awards represent the yin and yang in e-wrestling- Best Face and Best Heel.  Because one literally cannot exist without the other.  They are interconnected.  A great face can make a heel great.  A great heel can make a face great.  In professional wrestling, a face or babyface is a character who is portrayed as heroic in comparison to the heel wrestlers aka the villains.  Not everything a face wrestler does has to be heroic.  All faces need is to only be cheered by the audience in order to be effective characters. The vast majority of wrestling storylines place a heel against a face.  The following three exhibit the attributes that make a great face character.  Here are your two finalists…”

 

Talon – Hostility Wrestling Federation

(Source: Hostility)

“Through the Fire and Flames” blasts through the arena as thousands of people stand on their feet, heads turning toward the entrance arena as they wait for the lights to drop… but they never do. Instead, their hero steps out, wearing some new duds… brilliant blue, white, and black ring gear with a sweet new coat… but he doesn’t step into the darkness. No, Talon, for the first time in months, walks out into the light with a smile on his face. He pauses for a moment on top of the ramp, stretching his arms wide as blue and white pyro blasts off to each side, giving everyone close to it a nice heat bath, but Talon doesn’t seem to even notice as he basks in the glory of his return to the light, slapping high fives with every fan he can on his way down the ramp. He grabs a microphone from someone at ringside before stepping into the ring.

Talon: Hello, Hostility! Man oh man, is it good to be back in action, right in front of my people!

The fans go wild as he pauses for just a second.

Talon: And I’ll tell you what, nothing beats this feeling, right here… to be here, before your very own eyes, and to be alive! To be alive, and to be feeling every bit of it!

More pops from the fans. Man, it’s like he never took any time off at all.

Talon: Things got a little rough for a while, Hostilites… and they turned against me… my best friend turned against me… a girl I thought I loved turned against me… and I turned against myself. But I’ll tell you who never lost faith in me… you people! Each and every one of you out there in the stands, yes even you, the guy with the poster saying that Dark Avenger Talon = Low Ratings. I’ll just let you know… I agree one hundred percent! Every one of you fans in the audience here tonight… everyone watching at home, sitting on the edge of the seat waiting to see what happens next… thank you. Thank you, for my career… for my livelihood… for all that is good in the world!

A lot of nods. Dark Avenger Talon made for high ratings at first because he was back, but this right here is how the people like their boy.

Talon: I came back from the depths of depression… and I wasn’t the hero I should have been when I came back. I was so focused on my goal of revenge and healing my own personal pain… I lost sight of what was really important… and that is pulling Hostility from the darkness and keeping what is good and honorable at the forefront of this business! But I am back, Hostilites… Talon is back. And come hell or high water, I’m going to reclaim what is rightfully mine… I am going to right a few wrongs, correct a few mistakes… let them know from the lowest basements of the arenas to the highest rafters… we’re not going to take it anymore!

As if on cue (not like anyone wants him here), nobody’s favorite World Heavyweight Champion decides to blast his music through the arena and make his entrance. Bond walks out, cocky as always, dressed in an “Aggravated Assault” t-shirt & tights, ready to compete later on… World Title draped over his shoulder. Into the ring he goes, glaring at Talon as he walks by and gets a mic. He centers himself in the ring, face to face with Talon.

Bond: T-Bag, you’re looking mighty chipper. You’ve got the same look I had on my face after I slept with Paige for the first time…”

The fans boo this, just on principal. They really don’t like him, you know.

Talon: Chris, you’re looking like six weeks with Jack Daniels, angst and self-degradation… glad to see nothing’s changed.

Bond: Well you know, in between depression and searching for revenge, and ultimately sleeping with my former best friend’s fiance, I can see you’re still the same jaded individual everyone calls their hero.

Talon: I’m gonna stop you right there, Chris… because I’m not depressed anymore. I’m not depressed, I’m not looking for revenge. And you can try to drag Paige Johnson’s name through the mud all you want… but people can change, Chris. I mean, look at you. You used to be my best friend. A man I would go to hell and back for. A man who would fight honorably, not attack his opponent with cheap shots. This isn’t about revenge, Chris. This isn’t about healing myself. This is about that World Heavyweight Championship.

Bond: Oh, you mean MY World Heavyweight Championship? You know, the one you betrayed me for about a year ago? The one you lusted for, and finally snatched from my grasp, without ever pinning me? *boo*Without ever making me tap out? *boo*Is that the World Heavyweight Championship you’re referring to? The one draped over my shoulder?

This last one gets a huge boo. They don’t want that on his shoulder. Although he’s been doing better lately, when compared to his Industrial cohorts. Not nearly as much douchebaggery as when he first started the Industry.

Talon: I’m talking about the World Heavyweight Championship that I won by making Ozric Mortimer tap out. *big pop* The same one that I pinned Mike Polowy two weeks later to hold onto. *big pop* And then two months after that Steppen Scuragrec. *big pop* The same championship that YOU, Chris Bond, superkicked me in the face at South of Heaven and lost for me! *boo* I’m referring, Chris, to that championship belt that won’t be draped over your shoulder after Aggravated Assault!

Huge final pop. Man, there are gonna be a lot of hoarse voices tomorrow morning.

Bond: You know, I think I might recall something along those lines… but didn’t I also climb a ladder to grab the damned thing at Misery III, while you were laying down staring up at me as I did so?

Bond: You know, I do believe that’s the same damned championship belt I have draped over my shoulder. The same one that I’ll walk out tonight with. The same one I’ll walk into Aggravated Assault with. And the same one that I’ll be holding high above my head one week from tonight.

Talon pauses. Everyone can tell he’s trying to keep calm and collected, only six days before the PPV. Getting pissed off and attacking the World Champion isn’t going to solve anything. He might’ve done that a couple weeks ago though. It’s obvious we’re not going to agree, Chris… and it’s obvious that we’re going to have to wait til Aggravated Assault to see who the World Champion is. But I need to know one thing, Chris… just for me. Just one thing, I’ve been itching to ask for months, that you could answer now, here, in front of all these people…

Bond: If you want my autograph, I’d be happy to sign after the show…

Talon: No, Chris… that’s not what I want. What I want… what everyone here wants… is more having to do with… oh… South of Heaven.

Bond: You shut your mouth!

Talon: No Chris, because I want to know. I want to know why…

Bond: Stop it T. Just stop it now.

Talon: Why did you do it, Chris? Why? Why did you superkick me? Why did you throw our friendship into the toilet? Why?

Bond: Why? You want to know why? I’ll tell you why!

You. You were the problem. You didn’t care about me. You were supposed to be my best friend! You were never there for me.

Where were you when Ozric attacked me? You weren’t there to help me. You were too busy dealing with Steven Steele.

You didn’t care about our friendship, Talon. You prided yourself on being the Hero, but you couldn’t even save your best friend! So yeah, I may have become the villain. I may have done some things I’m not proud of. But I got your attention didn’t I?

Talon raises the microphone to respond, but Bond decides that he’s had the last word and fires off a Reality Check aimed right for Talon’s chin. Talon, however, knowing that move inside and out, simply ducks and lets it sail over his head. He then lets Bond regain his stance and simply holds his arms out… daring Bond to hit him. Bond steps closer to him, barely restraining himself as he holds the World Heavyweight Championship belt high, taunting Talon with it as he forces a cocky grin.

Chris Bond… Talon… the Hostility World Heavyweight Championship… inside the Legacy Mountain… who will survive when these two enter the confines of that great triple-tiered cage? Who will walk out of Aggravated Assault on Sunday alive and with the World Heavyweight Championship belt?

The last thing we see before we cut to commercial is the sight of Chris Bond and Talon, standing there nose-to-nose. These two men went to hell and back alongside each other in the past… this time, they’re going to go to hell and back to destroy each other!

Sebastian Cross- Totally Fictional Wrestling Federation
(Source: TFWF)
’AENEMA’ – TOOL PLAYS*

(SUPER MASSIVE MONSTER CROWD POP!! ALLOWING THE HEAVY BREATHING EFFECT OF THE SONG TO PLAY. CROSS STANDS WITH HIS BACK TO THE CROWD IN A MESSIAH STANCE. HE SPINS AROUND AS THE SONG KICKS IN WITH A BLUE PYROS FALLING DOWN ALL AROUND HIM.)  

SC: Listen to these fans go insane for Sebastian Cross!! What a reaction!

SJ: He looks a little lopsided though, I wonder what it is? Oh that’s right there’s twelve pounds of platinum and gold missing from his right shoulder!

(THE CROWD ARE GOING WILD FOR CROSS WHO STEPS THROUGH THE ROPES AND INTO THE RING. HE IS DRESSED IN HIS STREET CLOTHES AND LOOKS EXTREMELY FOCUSED AS HE IS HANDED A MIC BY A RINGSIDE TECH.)  

SC: Last week Dorian Wong sent a message to me that I heard loud and clear. He is jealous of the connection I have with you people and the family life that I have built away from this sport. I have never asked to be accepted by you people. I don’t pander to you or perform tricks to get your attention. I think you people respect me because you know I am real. You know I am one of you and I fight the same battles each and every day that you all I do. We all wrestle with life and the challenges it throws up, but we keep our respect for other people and our integrity. Right?

(THE CROWD CHEER BIG IN THE AFFIRMATIVE AS CROSS NODS HIS HEAD.)  

SC: I don’t think of myself as a role model and I don’t preach to you people on how to act. All I do is come out here and fight with all my heart and soul to put food on the table for my family. I just can’t understand why Dorian Wong can so envious of something so normal. Then again there is a lot I don’t understand about the so called Philosopher King.

(THE DISTAIN FROM CROSS TOWARDS WONG IS OBVIOUS AS HE LOOKS OUT AT THE CROWD FOR A MOMENT BEFORE RISING THE MIC UP AGAIN.)

SC: You know what I think about Dorian Wong and his persona? I think it’s BULLSHIT!

(MASSIVE CROWD POP AS CROSS STARTS TO GET MORE FIRED UP.)

SC: I think the way he acts and the things he does are just a way for him to get attention because he can’t get it done inside the ring. He isn’t different or special, he just acts the polar opposite way of all of us to psyche people out. He just doesn’t understand that there is nothing he can do to me to get what he wants. He needs to realise that this act, this facade that he puts on does nothing but bring him misery and jealousy that is going to destroy him.

(CROSS SMIRKS AS HE LOOKS TO THE BACK AND RAISES THE MIC UP.)

SC: Still, if he wants me, he knows where he can find me. That’s Wong, you and me, one on one at Death or Glory!

(SUPER MONSTER CROWD POP! THE FANS ARE IN RAPTURES FOR THIS BLOCKBUSTER MATCH!)

SC: All you had to do was ask Wong. But I’m not going to end my challenge there. You see it’s time someone turned the tables on you Wong. It’s time you had to put up or shut up. If you want me at Death or Glory all you’ve got to do is put your CAREER ON THE LINE!!

(ANOTHER MASSIVE CROWD POP.)

SC: That’s right Wong. That’s my challenge. You want me at Death or Glory? You’ve got it! But on the condition that if I beat you, you have to retire from the TFWF forever! That sound like a good deal folks?

McGill: “Which means the 2009 Best Face of the Year Award goes to…Scarlett Willis from Simcoe County Championship Wrestling!”

Replay: Scarlett Willis vs. Galactix © for the Simcoe County Heavyweight Title – SCCW Atonement PPV, December 2009
[Scarlett drags him up, and once more goes behind, looking for the Blurred Vision, but Galactix swerves it and lifts Scarlett for the Galactic Slam, only for her to counter with a huge DDT! Cover... ONE... TWO... NO! Galactix ones more saves his title as the fans are on their feet, stamping and clapping louder than ever before. Scarlett screams out as she's desperate to win the big one, and she sends a wild kick down onto Galactix before dragging him up and she goes for a swinging neckbreaker, only for G-Funk to spin it through and he hits the gut kick before putting her in the standing head scissors and lifting her – SITOUT POWERBOMB FROM THE CHAMPION, STRAIGHT INTO A SITOUT PIN... ONE... TWO... SCARLETT'S STILL IN IT WITH A MASSIVE KICKOUT! Galactix can't believe it as he hauls her up and tosses her into the corner, slamming a kick into her gut and she falls out in front of the turnbuckles. Once more he notices the opportunity and climbs to the top before leaping off – GALACTIC SPLASH! THIS TIME IT CONNECTS...ONE... TWO... THREE!!!!!! The fans boo the house down as Galactix gets to his feet and is handed the title, BUT NO! The referee pulls the title out of his grasp and points down at Scarlett.]

Johnny Wilkins – Look! Her boot’s on the bottom rope! She’d kicked out!

Ryan Antonelli – And the referee’s re-started the match! NO! G-Funk won it!

Johnny Wilkins – But he didn’t! Scarlett knew exactly where she was and what to do to save the match!

[Galactix stares at the referee in disbelief, screaming at him to not re-start the match; but his protests fall on deaf ears as this one continues! He throws the title to one side, and get straight back onto stalking Scarlett as she makes it to her feet and stands – GALACTIC SLAM! BUT WHAT?! SHE'S RIGHT BACK UP STANDING, THE CROWD GO MAD FOR HER AS SCARLETT GETS STRAIGHT UP AFTER GALACTIX'S TRADEMARK MORE! GALACTIX WASTES NOT TIME AND HOOKS HER – SECOND GALACTIX SLAM! HE COVERS.... ONE...

…

… TWO...

…

...KICKOUT FROM SCARLETT! WHAT?! The fans go mad as Scarlett's still in it, and Galactix is in pure shock. He drags Scarlett out in front of the corner and ascends to the top before leaping off for another Galactic Splash – SCARLETT GETS THE BOOTS INTO HIS FACE! GALACTIX IS STUNNED AS SHE STUMBLES BACK AND SCARLETT STANDS, HOOKING HIS HEAD FOR A REVERSE FACELOCK – BLURRED VISION! COVER... ONE...

…

… TWO...

…

NO! GALACTIX THROWS A SHOULDER UP AT THE LAST SECOND! The arena near enough explodes as nobody can believe how far these two have pushed one another! Scarlett shoots up to her feet, tearing at her hair with her eyes bulging as she pleads with the referee that it was a three, and Galactix slowly makes his way up. Scarlett falls face-first into the corner, despairing that she hasn't won and as she turns a few tears are streaming; desperately she tries to think of what could put Galactix to bed and allow her to take the SCCW Heavyweight Championship, but all hope looks gone for her. Once more she slams a kick into Galactix and hooks his head – A SECOND BLURRED VISION! COVER...

ONE...

…

TWO...

…

GALACTIX GETS A BOOT ON THE ROPES! Scarlett is almost on the verge of a breakdown as she resorts to thumping wildly at Galactix's chest, screaming at him to stay down!]

Johnny Wilkins – I’m lost for words at this… how the hell can Scarlett keep G-Funk down?!

[Galactix rolls over and uses the corner to get him to his feet, and as Scarlett approaches him he nails her with a huge right hand! Scarlett drops down, and he climbs out onto the apron, beginning to ascend the ropes to the top. As he does so, Scarlett comes round and she too heads to the corner and begins to climb to the top inside the ring. Eventually both wrestlers find themselves on the top rope, and they stare down, with both mutual respect and mutual hatred.]

Ryan Antonelli – Perilous ground here…

[Galactix manages to hit a hard shot tot he face, however Scarlett responds with a chop to his chest. Both are exhausted and slow in their movements as Galactix slams an uppercut into Scarlett, and she looks like she's going to fall, which would position her perfectly for the Galactic Splash, but she keeps her balance and headbutts Galactix! He stumbles, but responds with a hard gut punch before he hooks Scarlett for the Galactic Slam! Scarlett throws a wild elbow, and the hold is released before she tries to twist Galactix for the Blurred Vision, only he punches his way out and goes to shove Scarlett, only she dodges it and uses Galactix's own momentum to spin him round into the reverse front facelock on the top rope!]

Johnny Wilkins – Surely not…

Ryan Antonelli – She can’t…

[Everyone in the arena holds their breath collectively as Scarlett screams out and falls back BLURRED VISION OFF THE TOP ROPE! THEY LAND IN THE CENTRE OF THE RING! SCARLETT HOOKS THE LEG AND THE CROWD COUNT ALONG WITH THE REFEREE!]

ONE

TWO

THREE!!!!……..

……..[The referee hands a crying Scarlett the championship belt and she falls to her knees, raising it above her head as 'Jerk It Out' blasts over the speakers! The crowd are cheering like crazy for Scarlett as her hand is raised, and she holds her new title aloft, climbing to the top rope to celebrate a massive victory.]

Johnny Wilkins – WHAT a way to end the show, crowning a brand new Heavyweight Champion in Scarlett!

Ryan Antonelli – Oh. My. God. This is a travesty if I have ever seen one, and he is shaking her hand! What is Galactix thinking?!

2009 BEST FACE OF THE YEAR
SCARLETT WILLIS- SIMCOE COUNTY CHAMPIONSHIP WRESTLING

————————-

McGill: “And now, the bad guys.”

Best Heel
Mike Logan- Championship Wrestling Organization
Lee Best- High Octane Wrestling
Mike Polowy- Hostility and Dream Wrestling Federation 

McGill: “One way you know you’ve caught the wrestling fan’s imagination is by the applause you receive.  Another way to know just how well you’re doing your job is by the amount of and fervor of boos you can generate with your actions.  Being a heel is one thing.  Being a top heel is totally different.  You have to believe in your heart that what you’re doing is right even though it’s not.  These three have taken being a heel to a different level…”

Lee Best- High Octane Wrestling

Lee Best in the ring with the Hellcat Kirsta Lewis and Mark “Explosive” O’Neal.   Best gives Aceldama thirty seconds to come out and grovel for his place back in the Best Alliance. 

*The crowd begins to do the final countdown from ten to zero for Lee as he stops his pacing and simply stands staring at the ramp. It gets to two and all of a sudden, without any entrance music or nothing, Aceldama approaches the ramp, dressed in a suit, his hair slicked back. Lee smiles as he sees Aceldama approaching the ramp and standing, rather hesitant. He goes to turn around, as if he does not know if this is a trap or not, but then Sektor and his EPU come out and stand by the exit to backstage, smiling at him, he turns around again to see Lee, then sighs and slowly walks on*

So, here he is.  HOW’s World Champion.  Ranked #12 in the latest WWR Rankings.  No way in hell would he grovel…would he?

Lee Best: Wait, something is not right here. I don’t want you to APOLOGISE, I want you GROVEL. Get on your knees. Like the nothing that you are, kneel before the person who made you who you are in this federation!

*Aceldama with no delay gets down on both his knees and looks up at Lee, no smile, no emotion on his face. Lee is almost like a Cheshire cat, his grin is so large! He goes to speak once more*

Lee Best: That is much better. Now, you were saying?

*Lee points the microphone down at a kneeling Aceldama*

Aceldama: I am sorry.

Lee Best: Sorry? What on earth have you to be sorry for Ace?

Aceldama: For putting my hands on you and siding with Shane.

Lee Best: Oh yes, you do have to be sorry for that, and why are you sorry for that?

Aceldama: Because you were the one who made me what I am today, Shane simply stood in my shadow sharing my glories, he did not help me. You did.

Lee Best: So obviously you seen the error of your ways? You know now why I had to let Shane go?

Aceldama: I did and I know why he had to go. He was a parasite within the Best Alliance.

Lee Best: Good. You are starting to see things a lot clearly now. Consider your groveling apology accepted. Oh, but Ace, just remember one thing……

*Out of nowhere Lee lunges forward and grabs Aceldama by the tie and pushes him in his direction, his face directly in front of his, a sheer blood red look upon his eyes, one of sheer anger. Aceldama simply refuses to resist Lee*

Lee Best: If you EVER try to put your hands on me again, I will make sure that the remaining days you have on this earth will one, be short and two, and be extremely painful.

Ultimately, Lee decided against leaving out the painful part.  Darth Sektor’s Stormtroopers of Death bring out a large metal barrel containing a cattle prod. 

*He places the searing hot prod onto the skin of Aceldama who lets out a massive scream, that projected through the microphone, roars out through the arena. Lee holds it on for a considerable length of time. As he pulls away he admires his handy work and the camera zooms in to see what the engraving says:

‘Property of Lee Best’

The EPU guards let go of Aceldama as he falls to the floor in pain*

Mike Logan- Championship Wrestling Organization
(Source: cWo)
[The lights go out and turn a cherry shade of red as we hear "The Stroke" by Billy Squire play over the P.A. system.]

Nelson: Wait a minute…Do we have time for this?

Hart: The suits better make time for Mike Logan!

Nelson: Well folks we’re gonna stick with this as well as we can, but we’re pushing our scheduled broadcast time here.

[Mike Logan comes strutting out to the ring with his old Hamilton Tiger-Cats #55 jersey and a pair of faded blue jeans as the crowd immediately boos and pelts him with garbage as he saunters down the ramp.]

Nelson: Mike Logan just HAD to grace us with his presence tonight…

Tiger: I’ll alert the F.C.C. again.

Hart: This is no way for these fans to treat a Canadian Football League star!

[We see a fan in the front row throw an unopened beer can at Mike, who catches it with his bare hand and lunges toward the fan who threw it before spitting at him and hitting a teenage girl instead. The girl's mother slaps Mike Logan as Logan grabs her wrist and spits at her too before walking into the ring with the fans chanting "F**K YOU LO-GAN!" as loud as they possibly can as Logan takes the microphone he waits for a moment and just sneers at the crowd before starting his speech.]

Mike Logan: Good to see they let the mentally retarded breed here in this God-forsaken s**t-hole! Now, if you don’t mind… can you people kindly sit down and SHUT. THE F**K. UP?

Nelson: This is already starting off ugly…

Mike Logan: You people can boo me, pelt me with batteries, garbage, lit firecrackers, or whatever the hell you autistic morons do for fun, but the fact is at “Summertime Bruise”, once I stand in the ring victorious over that poster-child for abortion Johnny Serious, you morons won’t have a damn choice but to recognize that finally, “The Reflection Of Perfection”, “The Number One Selection”, “The Sexual Intellectual”, Mike… “I’ve been across this country, up and down, with women that were white, black, yellow, and brown, and if it wasn’t for the miracle of contraception, I’d have forty-seven bastard children in this town…”… LOGAN… is the best god damned wrestler to ever grace a wrestling ring.

[The fans erupt into another "F**K YOU LO-GAN!" chant at this point.]

Mike Logan: You know something? I’m feeling up for kicking some white-trash ass tonight and since you people hate me so damn much, why don’t all you closet homosexuals that chant this crap at me come on down here? That is, if any of you have the balls to!

[Fans all over the place are trying to jump over the railing at that remark as security is going nuts. Mike Logan has his attention diverted toward a fan wearing a World of Warcraft shirt mouthing off at Logan.]

Mike Logan: Why don’t you try your luck, you pathetic virgin? Maybe for the only time in your life, you might get some p***y by taking down the baddest dog in this yard! Come on, you dorky mother-fu-

[Just then, a fan in a hooded sweatshirt jumps over the railing and cracks Logan in between the shoulder-blades with a lead pipe. As the man lifts up his hooded sweatshirt, it's revealed to be Johnny Serious as the fans erupt louder than ever before.]

McGill: “Which means the clear winner this year is someone who took the concept of being a heel and totally embraced it and took it to a totally different level.  Mike Polowy started at Hostility  and joined up with The Industry to terrorize the good guys at Hostility.  But it was at Dream Wrestling that Mike made his mark this year. 

Mike Polowy’s first appearance in DWF
The fans in the arena are rabid, ready for what could go down as one of the most historic world title matches in Dream history. The lights begin to dim, however, instead of the ominous, Criss Angel-esque candlelight and brain-draining Korn anthem that usually forebodes Eric Payne’s journey to the ring, the vibrating rock riff to Muse’s “Yes Please” begins to billow over the sound system of the Allstate Arena. There is an unpleasant buzzing throughout the cheap seats as the fans in attendance contemplate what kind of new arrival they should expect, but the buzz quickly turns to a raucous mixture of cheers and boos as infamous HOSTILITY superstar, and newest Dream Wrestling tour signee, Michael Polowy steps out from behind the curtain and onto the ramp, a microphone already in hand. The arrogant smirk plastered over his face is one he is quite well known for, and it compliments the form fitting black suit and red tie ensemble covering the rest of his well muscled frame. He takes a brief look around the arena, shaking his head and letting out a small chuckle.

“Well now…” he begins, his gaze leaving the crowd and centering towards the ring. “It’s fitting that you find yourselves in the Allstate Arena tonight, ladies and gentlemen… because you are officially in good hands.”

There is an audible groan from the crowd in attendance, as the sting of the almost nauseating pun sets in. Polowy seems pleased at his own joke, even if the rest of the audience isn’t quite amused. He clears his throat before continuing.

“That being said, I’d like to take this opportunity to welcome myself to Dream Wrestling with open arms. I have been giving myself such a warm reception all day, and I really have to say that everyone must be very excited to have an athlete of my caliber and reputation in their midst. You fans in attendance, the… tens… watching at home. And especially the other ‘wrestlers’ sitting in the back right now, watching me on the monitors. This must be a pretty big deal for you guys, having an established star like me amongst you. Especially coming from a company like HOSTILITY…”

The fans are no longer groaning, or if they are, an inkling of it cannot even be heard over the chorus of boos echoing across the arena. A distinct “GO HOME GO HOME” chant can be heard beginning near the back of the auditorium.

“See, this is what I’m talking about. This ‘Dream Wrestling’ locale… it’s lowbrow. Bush league. Amateur talent. Amateur production values. And most of all, amateur fans. I don’t wanna hear your pandering and your booing, because you know damn well that the sales on MPlow merchandise tonight alone is going to triple whatever Dork and Eric Painful have been pulling in since this place opened it’s doors back up. I know you’re all looking forward to your little world title match tonight and all, and I’m sure that it’s going to be epic and historic in an autistic, amusing sort of way… so I won’t take up too much more of my own very valuable time. Before I leave, though, I’d just like to issue a little challenge… call it a friendly wager. I will put up FIFTY THOUSAND DOLLARS of my own hard earned money to any Dream wannabe who thinks he has the muscle to take on a real superstar… a HOSTILITY superstar. If, of course, he can win. I know that seems like a lot of money to people like you, but I assure you, there isn’t a single guy in the back who will survive long enough to spend it all in one place. Enjoy your main event, cats and kittens… and thanks again for the… HOSTILE… welcome.”

He throws out a wink, taking in the wave of boos and jeers from the crowd like he was breathing it in through a steam bath. After soaking it all in for a moment, he takes a little half bow and turns around, heading back out through the curtain as the main event is set to begin.

Mike offers Miss USA a deal: pictures for the Women’s Title
(Source: DWF)
At ringside, following the women’s triple threat match that just took place, Stevie Swing and Kelly Evans have managed to go their separate ways, leaving only Miss USA standing in the ring, collecting herself after the short lived match. She approaches the ropes, ready to likewise make her way up the ramp, when suddenly she is stopped dead in her tracks.

“Hold on… hold on just one moment.” the voice comes almost from nowhere, emanating through the PA system of the Richmond Coliseum. Miss USA freezes in place, looking around the arena as the fans in attendance try to identify the source of the order. Along with her loyal following, however, she quickly finds that the voice belongs to HWF superstar and tour signee Michael Polowy, who steps out through the back curtain holding a microphone. He shakes his head, looking up and down at the Women’s Champion as she stares back at him, more than a little confusion in her voice.

“That’s right, sweetheart. I wouldn’t go leaving that ring just yet.” MPlow continues, a Grinch-like smirk covering his face like he’d just finished pillaging Who-ville. “I’m afraid that believe it or not, you and I have some business to discuss.”

He begins to saunter down the ramp, rolling up the sleeves on his pressed black dress shirt. In the ring, the timekeeper is kind enough to present Miss USA with a microphone of her own, which she opts to use immediately.

 

“I don’t understand what…” she begins, only to be promptly cut off in mid sentence.

“Just wait right there, darling.” he interrupts, a chuckle escaping from the back of his throat. “All in due time.”

He rolls under the ropes, sliding into the ring with relative ease. For a moment, MPlow circles around the Women’s Champion, sizing her up in a way that seems to make her physically ill and quite uncomfortable. He feigns slapping her once on the rear end, but he stops short as she flinches in disgust.

“Now you…” Polowy continues, his smile widening and a quality of sleaze in his voice. “Youuuu are a fine specimen of athlete. YOU are exactly the type of champion this federation deserves.”

She snorts, an unpleasant look coming over her face as she takes a step away from him.

“Look, I don’t know what kind of girl you think I am, exactly….” she begins, shaking her head and backing away. “But…”

“Oh, no, no.” he laughs, right out loud, as he cuts her off rudely yet again. “You misunderstand me, Ms. Martin. I assure you that the only proposition I bring to you tonight is one of business. I collect models like they’re trading cards, honey, so excuse me if I’m not exactly rising in my slacks over butter-faces wearing masquerade masks.”

The smallest hint of a sneer comes over her face, but he continues on unfazed.

“No, Amy, the reason I’m down here tonight is a bit more innocent.” He drops the smirk from his face temporarily, growing a bit more serious. “I’m out here tonight because you can help me with a bit of a… contractual… problem I’m experiencing. You see, in a MAN’S world, you have to know who’s palms to grease. You have to know where the money lies, and how to go about getting a hold of it. Professional wrestling is kind of like a beauty pageant… you can say it’s all about the personality and the intelligence, but in the end, it’s all about one thing… who’s got the best face and the biggest tits? It’s the same way in this business. It’s not about your wins and losses, it’s not about the prestige or the legacy. They might tell you that when you get started, and they might play it off like that on television, but it’s all about one thing: business sense. Me? I had the business sense to negotiate a good contract. When I signed on the dotted line at DREAM, I had a special provision put in. Actually, I had a FEW provisions written in… but the most important is this. I was personally guaranteed a title match in the six weeks that I am with this company. Thus far, unsurprisingly, this little promotion-that-couldn’t has not made good on their promise… on their contractual obligation.”

He begins a slow pace around the ring again, circling Miss USA like a shark.

“Now, I’ve been looking over the divisions here in DREAM and altogether, I’m not that impressed. What this company calls a “World Title Division”, Hostility calls a ring crew. I’m barely exaggerating. Do you have any idea how many wannabe big leaguers walk down the ramp at Hostile Violence every week not to wrestle a match, or cut a promo, but to set up a ring and drive one hundred miles back home? It’s pathetic. Derek Payne, Dork, Simon Greer…”

The crowd lets out a low chorus of displeasure at his purposeful ruining of DREAM’s main eventer’s names.

“These guys would barely pass as referees at Hostility.” he continues, ignoring the crowd. “But in all the searching I’ve done since I arrived at this pathetic little organization a few weeks ago, one division has stood out. One title retains a certain prestige. And see, I’ve been a World Champion. I’ve been a Tag Team Champion. It’s old hat, been there done that. Especially for a Bush league independent set-up like this. But the Women’s Division… now THERE is a place that holds some value in their championship. Think about it… you fought for your right to own property. You fought for your right to vote. Working outside the home, becoming single mothers, all these things are accomplishments that we as men never saw for you women when this country came into fruition. And yet now, you have your own division. Your own title. It’s admirable.”

There is an astounding cheer from the crowd, despite the chauvinistic remarks. Miss USA stands proud in the ring, holding her title aloft to show the fans.

“But it’s also sexist.” he sneers, staring daggers at the Women’s Champion as he says this. The booing returns from the audience in attendance. “See, I checked the rulebooks, and I spoke with my attorney. It seems that the “Men’s Heavyweight Division” doesn’t exist. The “Heavyweight Division”exists, alright, but technically speaking there are no genders tied to the World Championship. That being said, assuming you, Miss USA, can make weight, you can compete for the World Championship. However, that glaring word “Women’s” is holding me back from competing in yours. I’m here tonight to rectify that situation and challenge you to a one on one Women’s Title match, right here tonight!”

He raises his arms in the air, as if he was making an announcement the crowd should be cheering for. Unsurprisingly, they do not. Miss USA thinks for a moment, still not putting the pieces together. Finally, as if a light bulb lit inside her skull, everything begins to make sense.

“You don’t…” she begins, slowly. “You don’t actually expect me to wrestle you for the WOMEN’S title, do you? Are you insane?”

“I thought you might see things that way.” MPlow sighs, shaking his head. “And you’re right, there is no logical way I can force you to fight me here tonight, especially since it’s barely been five minutes since your last match ended. However, I think I have something in my possession here tonight that might just change your mind. A counter offer, if you will.”

He snaps his fingers, pointing back toward the entrance way. From the back, three men attired in sharp looking business suits, obviously lawyers, make their way from behind the curtain and down the ramp towards the ring. Meanwhile, on the Tron…

[THE NUDE PHOTOS OF MISS USA APPEAR ON THE SCREEN]

A raucous cheering comes from the crowd, mostly from it’s male majority. The cheers quickly turn to boos, however, as in the ring Miss USA looks more than horrified. She runs a hand through her hair, the beginning of tears forming in her eyes as she holds back a sniffle.

“What in the hell do you want from me?” She practically whimpers. “Where did you even get…”

“That’s not important, sweetie.” He practically whispers, mockingly motioning for her to give him a hug. “All that’s important is that we do our best to preserve your dignity. See, I got a hold of this pictures a few weeks ago… you never know when it’s going to come in handy to have a little blackmail on hand. And I thought to myself… what can I do with these? At first I considered the obvious… masturbation and 4Chan original content. But then it occurred to me. Then, the Grinch had an idea… a terrible, horrible, wonderful idea. I bought the rights. The photographer, Gary? You remember him, right? Turns out money really can buy everything, and the bad news is that you are now looking at the sole owner of the pictures you have just seen. That’s the bad news. The good news is, though, that I’m more than willing to hand you the envelope in my pocket, a signed agreement to transfer ownership to you. MORE than willing…”

She looks at him eagerly, the look in her eyes reflecting the true naivety of a good person. She doesn’t expect the words the world is already expecting to hear.

“Assuming, of course…” he continues, evil in his eyes. “That you, in return, present me with that Women’s Championship. You turn it over to me, in all it’s glory, and forfeit your claim to the division’s number one prize. I think it’s a pretty even trade… dignity for dignity.”

He turns away, ducking under the ropes as he drops back to the arena floor.

“Don’t make a decision just yet, darling.” He muses, almost giggling. “Think it over. You have until the end of the show. And sweetheart? Before you go crying too many tears, remember this: You call yourself Miss USA? Well this is capitalism at it’s finest. THIS is the country you glorify and wrestle in the name of. Business. Commerce. Getting ahead by any means necessary. Think hard… I’d hate to see what happens when FOX News gets a hold of these…”

He steps behind the curtain, leaving Miss USA in tears as the show cuts to commercial.

LATER ON IN THE SHOW

Miss USA accepts Polowy’s offer
As we return from commercial break, the arena is still coming down from an awesome bout between Jak Nemesis and Pierce. The camera pans over the crowd, getting a good look at some fan signs and the general reaction of the crowd to the event so far, but the panning abruptly changes as “Yes Please” by Muse begins to pump over the speakers of the Richmond Coliseum. The cheering and general excitement turns quickly to a flurry of boos and screams as ‘The Mike Effect’ himself steps through the curtain, changed back out of his wrestling attire and wearing a sharp looking suit. He isn’t alone, this time, as the three legal sharks from earlier in the night accompany him, one of them holding a manila envelope in his hands, presumably holding something important.

MPlow strolls to the ring with his usual cocky swagger, the lawyers in close proximity as he walks up the ring steps and ducks under the ropes.

“Well, I’ll keep this short and sweet.” he begins, though the fans in attendance assume he’ll do anything but that. “It’s decision time, Miss USA. I’ve given you all night to think about my proposition, and it’s time to find out once and for all what you value more… your dignity, or your championship. Either way, why don’t you come on down here and give me the answer the world is oh-so-eagerly waiting to hear?”

He smirks, running a hand over his close shaved head as he stares towards the entrance way. Miss USA does not disappoint, and the arena is up in arms screaming as the opening riffs to “Born In The USA” begins to blare over the PA system. Anti-climatically, Lady Liberty herself emerges from the entrance way looking sullen and tired. Her eyes are a blotchy red, and she carries with her the championship she so rightfully earned on her own. Slowly, Miss USA descends down the ramp, nodding curtly as one of the lawyers holds the ropes for her, allowing her easy entrance into the ring.

“Well, you’re here.” Polowy says flatly. “What’ll it be? I can make this all go away.”

She grunts, grabbing the microphone from his hands abruptly. The crowd pops just a little bit for her as she does this, but she barely seems to notice.

“Mike, you are possibly the most disgusting human being I have ever seen in my life.” She says this less in an insulting manner, and more as if it was a fact. The crowd explodes into cheers, but her face doesn’t show the slightest bit of amusement. “You think you can just push everyone around. Since you arrived in this company, you have insulted it’s accommodations, you have insulted it’s employees, and you have insulted it’s fans. And we’ve all stood by, every single one of us, and we’ve done nothing. We’ve watched as you tore us down, piece by piece, and made us feel like garbage. You, and your Hostility. You, and your shiny sunglasses and wallet that’s probably stuffed with Monopoly money. And tonight, when you walked down to the ramp and BLACKMAILED me. Openly BLACKMAILED me, I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to react. You’re asking me to turn over a title to you that you didn’t earn. You didn’t fight for this. You didn’t sweat, or cry, or bleed for this. And yet you think because you have a couple of measly pictures of me that are less than flattering that I’m just going to hand it over to you? That I’m just going to make you the Women’s Champion?”

The crowd is in a frenzy, as she stares coldly into the eyes of the man attacking her character. For a moment, she says nothing, until…

“Well you know what?” She continues, the fans gripping to her every word. “You’re right.”

The cheering in the crowd quickly stifles, becoming almost a deafening silence. No one is sure how to react to the words they have just heard.

“You’re right, Mike.” She continues, her eyes growing sad. “Because we’re not all like you. We’re not all monsters. What you’re doing is hurting my feelings, hurting my dignity, and making me sick to my damned stomach. But I can’t dig as deep as you can to hurt another human being. I can’t forget conscience, and morals, and will to be a good person. So I don’t know what else to do. I’m accepting your offer. Give me the pictures, take the Women’s Championship, and for all I’m concerned, I hope that it all comes back to get you in the end.”

Michael Polowy nods, his face widening into a grin as he reaches into his suit jacket, producing a pen. One of the lawyers opens the manila envelope, pulling out an official looking document.

“This is a big step in promoting equal rights, Amy.” MPlow muses, looking pleased with himself. “Just sign on the dotted line.”

He hands her the pen, her hands trembling as she grips onto it. After a moment of hesitation, she finally puts the ink to the the paper, signing her name at the bottom. Polowy drops to one knee, motioning for her to hand him the title. She thrusts it forward, angrily, but Polowy quickly shakes his head no, motioning for her to place it upon his shoulder. With a look of pure hatred in her eyes, Miss USA drapes the belt over his waiting shoulder, as he gets back to his feet.

“Pleasure doing business with you, Ms. Martin.” Polowy smiles, handing her the envelope containing the photo negatives. “They belong to you now. I don’t know what I’d do with them, but if I were you, I’d start by getting them pulled from the major news casts tonight, and find an attorney. It’s awful difficult to get pictures stripped off of message boards and torrent sites. I may have had a little fun with them while they still belonged to me… they WERE mine, after all. Good day, Miss USA. Best of luck to you.”

He chuckles, but as he goes to leave the ring, something in Miss USA snaps. Tears in her eyes, she rushes forward, laying a hard slap across the chiseled jawline of her antagonizer, but he quickly bails out of the ring along with his attorneys. The show cuts to commercial break with a close up shot of a weeping Miss USA, possibly her last appearance on DWF television.

2009 BEST HEEL OF THE YEAR

MIKE POLOWY- HOSTILITY AND DREAM WRESTLING FEDERATION

—————————

Best Fed-Head
Garvin- Wrestling Midwest
Ian Monks- Totally Fictional Wrestling Federation
Lee Best- High Octane Wrestling

Suave: “Being a head of an e-federation is almost like being The Warden at Siberian Wrestling.  It’s hard sometimes to reign in the inmates.  All of the original nominees in this category are deserving.  Cory Wilson brought Simcoe County back to life and into prominence.  Ben Halkum did the same with Dream Wrestling Federation.  Matt/Fame and Fortune at Global Division of Wrestling presides over one of the hottest angles going on in wrestling.  Tommy Tompkins at Xtreme World Wrestling has an up and coming federation that deserves a look-see.  And Seth Lerch is slowly building something special over at Wrestling Championship Federation. 

“Our final three nominees preside over thriving, vibrant federations.  You could make a strong case for each one for Best Fed-Head of the year.  But as they say- there can be only one.  Our two finalists are…”

Ian Monks- Totally Fictional Wrestling Federation
Monks has lead TFWF from a simple RP board 12 years ago to one of the premier e-wrestling federations today.  Featuring former True Expert Champion Sandy ‘The Dice’ Makel, Joel Bryant aka Crazyman, Aaron Roberts, Sebastian Cross, Phenom, Chester Addison, and Jonnah Street among others, TFWF features one of the strongest rosters you’ll see in wrestling.  Under Monk’s leadership, TFWF is a prominent member of The Experts Inter-Fed and affiliated with the E-Fed Knights.

In the e-wrestling realm, you could say that Monks and TFWF are the WWE of e-wrestling.

Lee Best- High Octane Wrestling
Best presides over the high flying, three-ring circus known as High Octane Wrestling.  Speaking of the warden controlling the inmates, when you have Max Kael, Aceldama, Graystone, Scottywood, Frankie the Cameraman and Kirsta Lewis among your stable of wrestlers, you more than have your hands full.

Or as Mitch ‘The Deuce’ Duesner said in one of his reviews:

“You know, if NFW, FWO, ACW, TFWF, etc… are the elites, the Mercedes Benz, the Porsche, the Cadillacs of pro wrestling, what is HOW?  Your father’s hand me down station wagon you drive out to Inspiration Point to score with your girlfriend?

Tell you what, what would you rather ride?  Your girlfriend or some fancy dancy Corinthian leather covered cushion asking people to give you some Grey Poupon?  That’s a no-brainer….”

But for all the chaos inside the ring, it’s clear that Best is focused on putting out the best product possible.  He in many ways has a lot of Paul Heyman-ish qualities without the lousy business sense.  It’s no wonder that Duesner called HOW the ECW of e-wrestling.

Suave: “That means our choice for best Fed-Head of the year is…Garvin from Wrestling Midwest.

Garvin- Wrestling Midwest
‘The Best of the Midwest Since 2004’  Wrestling Midwest is the little wrestling company that can and Garvin is the chief engineer driving the train forward.  2009 has been a breakout year for WMW with the emergence of Valora Salinas as a major player and the federation’s announcement that they were joining the World Wrestling Alliance at the end of the year.  WMW does not have a huge roster compared to other feds.  But WMW also doesn’t have the usual turnover that goes along with having a large roster.  Sometimes the best things don’t necessary have to come in large packages.  As 2010 rolls in, Garvin has Wrestling Midwest positioned for bigger and better things to come.

If TFWF resembles the WWE, HOW – ECW, WMW = ROH.  

 2009 E-FED-HEAD OF THE YEAR
GARVIN- WRESTLING MIDWEST

—————————

Best Tag Team
Egg Bandits- Dream Wrestling Federation
Vox Nihili- Fans Wrestling Organization
Blitzkrieg Funk- Legacy of Champions, Fans Wrestling Organization

Suave: “And now, to announce the Best Tag Team of 2009, Political Championship Wrestling’s ‘No Frills’ Chris Escondido and ‘American Citizen’ Kevin Scott.”

Escondido and Scott walk out. 

Escondido: “To be a top tag team requires the ability to work seamlessly with your partner.” 

Scott: “These three tag teams were at the top of their game in 2009.  All three spent time at number one on the WWR Tag Team rankings at some point in the year.”

Escondido: “Two teams are old favorites.  One, an up and coming tag team that exploded on the scene in the second half of 2009.”

Scott: “So without any further adu, here are our two finalists…”

Blitzkrieg Funk- Legacy of Champions, Fans Wrestling Organization
(Source: FWO)
The Orlando fans grew restless as they eagerly awaited some of the fWo’s self-proclaimed “best wrestling” this side of the globe.

“Justice” by Genesis played and the TravTron switched from black to a German flag majestically waving in the air. The sights and sounds of Blitzkrieg Funk’s entrance did not remedy the fans; instead they resounded in a chorus of boos so loud that it would make Vince Russo blush. For a second it seemed as if the team had no showed as there was no sign of Bastian or Hans but as the tempo of the music picked up the curtains gave way to the two magnificent Germans and the pride of the fatherland. The entire Arena threw insults but Bastian and Hans ignored the ignorant American fans as they made their way down the entrance ramp……

The Germans chose Hans to begin the match and the Sunshine Cuddlebears, well they were having a difficult time deciding who exactly would start. Their conversation couldn’t be heard but due to the tone and body language, it didn’t leave much to the imagination.

Hans charged the Cuddlebears and sent them to the mat hard with a double clothesline. He picked up Legend and tossed him to the outside and just like that, One Eye was the legal man. A clever choice by Hans seeing as how only minutes ago was Legend wailing on One Eye and furthermore, Hans had seen Legend wrestle tag team matches before in Germany and knew better then to wrestle the veteran of their trade.

Hans pulled One Eye up and intended on sending him to his corner with an Irish whip but Taito reversed the manoeuvre and kicked the sternum of the Panzerfaust. Hans released his grip of Taito but just as he was about to be met with stunning roundhouse kick he ducked, strafed to his back and returned Taito to the mat with a thunderous Deutsch Suplex.

One Eye was reeling in pain, he’d never experienced such a well executed German Suplex but what did he except? Well his foray into a legitimate German Suplex was not over as Hans maintained his grip around his waist, brought him back up to his feet, and sent Taito into the air for yet another Deutsch Suplex.

Hans laid into One Eye with a few stomps before grabbing his wrist and pulling him towards the German corner, the Reichstag as they called it. Hans tagged Bastian who was quick to climb the ropes and gesture to the fans that he was ready for his patented shooting star press leg drop, the “Adlerangriff”. As BvB took the air his spectacular display of acrobatics seemed to suspend time, the fans snapped pictures, the announcers went quiet, and most important Bastian had time to realize that perhaps he hadn’t waited long enough to execute such a delayed move becau…

BAMN

Bastian nailed the mat with an incredible force due to One Eye rolling out of the way. The arena met in a collective gasp as Bastian was left in a crumpled mess, holding his back and screaming out German obscenities. The hope for the newly formed Sunshine Cuddlebears had looked dimmed but as One Eye crawled to his corner things began to look up, perhaps they had the potential to knock down the German giants. One Eye desperately stretched out his arm in order to find his partners tag but nothing… Legend was on the ring apron but he refused to tag into the match. Taito pleaded for the tag but Legend just shrugged his shoulders and dropped down the ringside mats.

“I can’t! I think I pulled something!” exclaimed Legend sarcastically.

In case you don’t know Germans don’t understand sarcasm, it is as foreign to them as inferiority and poor punctuality but Bastian did recognize an opportunity as he quickly proceeded across the ring with a diving leg drop onto the back of One Eye’s neck.

One Eye rose to his feet on his own strength but would regret his actions immediately as Bastian took advantage of his poor state and hit him with a well placed dropkick, the V2 Rocket. The referee hadn’t been paying attention to the action in the ring because he was trying to make sense of Johnny Legend’s actions on the outside, he wasn’t sure if he was feigning injury or had really pulled his pinkie finger.

Hans rushed at One Eye, clubbing him in the back, and sent him flying with a release german suplex. This time however One Eye landed on his feet, and was able to rebound… briefly. The massive forearm of Hans nearly decapitated the masked wonder with his clothesline.

Rolling through it, Tiato once more went to his corner where Legend stood clapping, applauding his effort so far. His hand was reached out and One Eye went for the tag, only to have it pulled away from him. ‘Too slow’. Legend turned his back but One Eye reached further and gripped his partner’s arm…

Dragonfist Uppercut. As Legend tipped backwards off the apron, One Eye having never released his arm, pulled him over the ropes and into the ring. Right in front of Hans.

Hans reached forward and pulled Legend closer to him by his skull. He raised his arm in the air and brought it down across Legend’s bare chest. A second one followed, but Legend dropped to his ass and scooted to his corner where One Eye was. He motioned his partner to come close to talk strategy.

One Eye and Legend conversed, came up with a great plan to which both agreed up on and nodded their heads in unison.Smack And then a highfive. The referee insisted to One Eye it was a tag, to which Legend apologized as he slunk through the ropes and sat on the ring steps, nursing his chest.

One Eye leaned over the ropes and yelled at Legend to get back in, to which he was ignored. He stepped through the ropes, completely oblivious to his german opponent standing behind him with a wide grin.

Hans noticed the distraction being caused ringside and entered the ring to help Bastian by whipping One Eye into the ropes with great force. As One Eye bounced off the ropes he was confronted with the German’s double spear…

BLITZKRIEG!!!

The impact was so substantial that it actually sent One Eye back in time to when their two peoples had been friends. Hans quickly made his way back to the corner and the wrestling gods conveniently turned the referee around to see Bastian sprawled across Taito for the pin.

1. 

2

3!!

The Funk’s music played once more to demonstrate their victory over the Sunshine Cuddlebears in their return to the fWo ring after nearly a month away.

Escondido: “Blitzkrieg Funk was the number one ranked tag team when they were deported back to Germany in the fall due to a passport issue.”

The Egg Bandits- Dream Wrestling Federation
 (Source: DWF)
We begin The Egg Bandits evening backstage. They arrived early for this Mondays Slaughter taping to better acquaint themselves with the arenas backstage surroundings. Why would they need to familiarize themselves… OH… I know why. Silly me.

CCJ and Doozy are the only visible Bandits in play. The two superstars are donning street clothes, as they mosey around the backstage area. Doozy, holding a piece of paper in his right hand, seems to the navigator on this backstage excursion. Wonder what’s on that piece of paper? Maybe a rematch clause to screw Mike out of the belt… nah, he’s not that gay. Mr. Cool, wielding the now customary carton of jumbo eggs leads in…

“I think I’m still hung over… what a bender. Damn double shots get me every time. Who we clowning again tonight?”

Doozer lets out a sigh, an unfocused Mr. Cool translates to most of the heavy lifting being done by The Old Man…

“Come on CCJ… snap to. We’re facing the Vegas Pirates of Poon. They seem like the kind of guys we should take seriously.”

“Poon…eh? Maybe if we take it easy on them… next time we’re in Vegas, they could hook it up with mad bitches and what not. This past week binge really put a dent in my wallet.”

“You’re the one who demanded top shelf everything, this time it’s all your fault Mr. Cool, DEAL WITH IT!”

Is that CPZ? Nah, just Doozer stealing lines again.

“Ok, right here is where Maxy Pad’s locker room is… mark it.”

CCJ pops open the carton of yolky-ness and attempts to fire an egg against Mel Gibson’s 9th alter egos’ locker room door.

“Is he really staying in a cardboard box?”

Doozer looks down at the piece of paper…

“Says right here… unless this is wrong, that he is. So yeah, he is a bum, not to far fetched I guess.”

Cancer, then marks the Bandits first target.

“Done, whose next?”

Doozer runs his finger down the piece of paper…

“Ok… Jak’s locker room is down the hall. Let’s mark his next.”

The two men head down the hall a bit; once again, Mr. Cool reaches into the carton…

“Take this Poo-Bear!”

This time firing FOUR eggs at the door.

“Easy Jiles, we got two more rooms to mark. Polowy‘s locker-room is three door‘s down.”

The men take a few steps… Cancer then asks…

“The ladies bathroom?”

Doozer laughs…

“Nah, but it should be… egg it anyway. You can never be to sure with The Dyke Effect.”

A lone egg crashes into the door of the ladies room. Then the Bandits continue on their journey.

“Hey, this is 501’s room… mark it.”

CCJ looks over at the Dooze, and says before cocking his arm back…

“You sure you want to…”

Too late, Doozer reaches into the open carton, plucking the jumbo egg that most caught his eye. Then of course, eggs 501’s door. He then says to CJ…

“Not like he is going to remember us egging him anyway.”

Cancer nods his head in agreement.

“Is that it? We got Maxy Pad, Jak-Attack, Polowinsky, and ehhh, NEGATIVE 501. Anyone else you feel like egging tonight?”

 

Doozer pauses and begins to rub his chin, the faces consisting of the Slaughter roster run through his mind like a rolodex…

“Maybe one more… but there is no need to mark his door. I know where to find him.”

The Egg Bandits are ready. I guess that leaves us with…

Who’s up first?

Escondido: “Welcome to the wacky world of the Egg Bandits.  No one was immune to their habit of throwing eggs at people they didn’t like.  Of course, sometimes the tables were turned…”

Doozer and CCJ resume chasing Jak around the backstage area. It seems to me, that The Egg Bandits have been doing an awful lot of running this show, running to people, running from people. Speaking of fro…

Witty Jak.

“Oh shit… RUN!”

Seems like the madman, the King Kong of Dream has pulled a fast one of his own. Turns out, as Jak was ‘running’ from the Bandits, he was really leading them into a trap… a trap of 15 disgruntled security guards and janitors… Guys who are really starting to get sick and tired of cleaning up the frequent Egg Disasters the Bandits constantly leave behind.

Jiles and Dooze toss a couple of random eggs at the awaiting mob. The random egg shower has little, to no little effect as both men were to more focused on saving their own asses. Once again, the Brotherhood of the Egg partakes in what can be dubbed as tonight’s unofficial Slaughter theme… running away. Mr. Cool calls out to Jak, who stays behind, arms crossed and laughing at the fleeing Egg Bandits.

“This isn’t over Nemetard! You’re now number two!!!!”

Mr. Cool yells out as he barely escapes the clutches of the vigilant mob. Doozer… not sure where he snuck off to. Hopefully he is safe…

Scott: “Inside the ring, the Bandits were all business.”

Egg Bandits vs. Company Policy © for the DWF Tag Team Title
“Doozer quickly turns Travis Williams over. He goes for the pin, denied at two as Williams is able to kick out.”

Doozer rises to his feet, lifting Travis up with him.

“Hard chop to the chest of Travis Williams by Doozer, followed by another.”

Travis takes a step back then comes foreword with his own hard chop.

“Another big chop from the big man, he now follows up with a big right. Doozer returns the favor. We have an all out battle as both champions are exchanging fist.”

Travis Williams grabs Doozer’s arm and whips him into the ropes.

“Williams ready as Doozer is on the return. Wait… The Dooze leaps, shoulder block takes the big man down!”

Williams quickly to his feet, as is Doozer who runs and hits the ropes as he returns, he leaps again.

“Another big shoulder block! The Superman Can Fly!”

Both men to their feet, they turn to face each other.

“Doozer with a big boot to the gut of the World Champion.”

He tries to lift him, but is unable to.

“Chris Bladez runs in the ring again, so does Jiles. Bladez denied reaching Doozer as Jiles shoots forward, TERMINAL CANCER!”

Cancer joins Doozer, and helps him lift.

“It takes two men but they do it, SUPLEX!”

Doozer quickly covers Travis and the referee counts.

“THREE! THREE! THREE! THE EGG BANDITS WIN!”

The bell sounds and Doozer’s face is one of shock and amazement. Cancer helps him up and they embrace as Williams rolls out of the ring along side of Chris Bladez.

 

Escondido: “But the Best Tag Team of 2009 is…”

Vox Nihili (Alias and Karina Wolfenden)- Fans Wrestling Organization

“PUGNA, ERGO SUM.”

Scott: “Those three words really are the only introduction Vox Nihili needs.  Two time FWO Tag Team Champions in 2009, Vox sat near the top of the WWR Tag Team rankings from June on with regularity.”

Black Sabotage by Beastie Boys vs. Led Zeppelin.

As the screens flashed back on, swirling with a dense blizzard of Vox Nihili’s trademark static, Robert Plant took his cue. 

“Hey, hey, Mama, said the way you move,
Gonna make you sweat, gonna make you groove…”

Bathed in the swirling light of the stage screens, Alias strode out onto the stage, scarred, tattooed body swelling as he heaved in two smoker’s lungfuls of the supercharged arena air. As the Pulp Hero’s fists clenched and shoulders loosened, Karina Wolfenden weaved through the scaffolding above the stage and dropped down by his side, patchwork leather coat flapping behind her as she plummeted. Big Bad and the Wolf bumped fists with a shared, determined nod before they strode down the aisle, each energetically slapping the sea of outstretched, vying palms with a tightly gloved or heavily taped hand.

“Introducing first, the challengers,” boomed an on-form Stevie. “They are ALIAS and KARINA WOLFENDEN… VOX NIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIHILI!!!“

The K-Wolf sprung onto the top tope, showcasing her supreme balance as she perched on tip toes and thrust two gloved fists aloft to the faithful crowd before dropping down into the ring. Dragging himself up onto the apron, Alias’ good eye sought out the ringside camera, an ominous hint of a smile breaking across his lips.

“It’s time,” he mouthed with intimidation dripping off each word.

Vox Nihili reunited in the ring with another bump of their fists, both barely able to keep still long enough for the referee to remind them of the rules, such was the build-up of eager, violent energy rippling through them.

Escondido: “Every Vox Nihili match seemed to read like an epic novel, slowly building up to a crescendo, to the climatic final scene.”

Scott: “Just like in this match against the Legion of Dairy.”

Replay: Vox Nihili vs. Legion of Dairy © for the FWO Tag Team Title
……..His wrist tape now too sodden to wipe any more blood from his lacerated forehead, the Pulp Hero instead ripped a shred of zebra-stripe from the referee’s shirt to swab his crimson mask. Every breath heavy, every movement strained, Alias grabbed each of the Legion of Dairy by the hair and dragged them up. Click! Despite the gaping hole, Sheffield thrust his forehead into the face of cHEESE. Click! A knee then drove into the ribs of egg NOG. BOOM! Sheffield then went to deliver an elbow down into the crown of each champion’s skull… only for cHEESE to rake his eyes to the fury of the Chicago crowd.

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!“

Before Sheffield’s vision could clear, the Legion hoisted him up… then brought the Pulp Hero crashing down into the canvas with the Sellout.

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!“

The crowd fell silent as cHEESE grabbed the groggy official’s arm and yanked him closer.

“ONE!

.

.

.

.

TWO!

.

.

.

.

THRE-NO!!!”

Just as the referee’s hand was mere millimetres away from keeping the Legion of Dairy installed as FWO tag team champions, Karina Wolfenden hurled herself onto the pin, breaking the count.

“YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!“

Faces masked in anger, the LoD punished the K-Wolf’s last-gasp interference with a short but brutal flurry of stomps. Each grabbing a handful of multicoloured hair, the tag champions dragged the stunned Wolfenden to the corner and slammed her head back against the buckle to further subdue her. Then, they began to climb the ropes, dragging their struggling challenger up after them.

Each sneering back at the hostile ringside fans, egg NOG and cHEESE hooked the K-Wolf for a top-rope Sellout… only for Alias to make the save, smashing an oblivious cHEESE’s jaw out of alignment with a furious forearm which sent him flying off the top rope and down to the floor, where he face made an unscheduled appointment with the announce desk to the delight of the ringside fans.

“YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!“

As Alias stepped up onto the middle rope, egg NOG found himself sandwiched between Big Bad and the Wolf, who each stabbed a back elbow into his temple, then… Deadlights. As adrenaline gave their bodies one final turbo-charge, K-Wolf and Alias sprung up off the middle ropes and sandwiched the unfortunate NOGzilla’s skull with brutal a enziguri kick to each temple, sending his eyes rolling back into his skull.

Big Bad and the Wolf crashed down into the ring, and after a few seconds of swaying, egg NOG followed, collapsing forward and face-planting into the canvas.

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!!!“

His face now painted with tacky blood, the unrelenting Alias rolled egg NOG over and doubled him up for the pin.

The crowd hushed for the count.

“ONE!

.

.

.

.

TWO!

.

.

.

.

THRE-NO!!!”

As the fans gasped in shock at NOGzilla again kicking out, Sheffield seized upon his victim and dragged him flailing back into Anarchy’s Lullaby. With the desperate, fading champion clawing back at Alias’ face, the K-Wolf sprung off the middle rope and connected with Goodnight Moon to NOG’s chest.

“YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!“

Feeling the Legionnaire’s resistance cease, Sheffield released him from the torturous hold and again hooked his legs tightly for the pin.

“ONE!

.

.

.

.

TWO!

.

.

.

.

THREE!!!”

Despite cHEESE’s last-ditch attempt to break up the pin, the referee’s hand slapped the canvas for a third time, detonating a rapturous roar around the arena.

“YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!“

Ding, ding!

cHEESE looked on agasp as the referee signalled the result to Stevie Roberts, the now dethroned champ shaking his head in denial and reaching a tired, longing hand out towards the belts as they were delivered to the official

“The winners of this match…” declared Stevie as a wailing cHEESE began slapping the canvas, “… and NEEEEEEEEEEEEEW F-W-O WOOOORLD TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS… VOX NIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIHILI!!!“

As Black Sabotage by Beastie Boys vs. Led Zeppelin began blaring out, a bloodied, beaten but victorious Original Pulp Hero rose, fist held triumphantly aloft as the K-Wolf latched onto him, helping to keep her partner upright. After a near three month gruelling, career-shortening chase, Big Bad and the Wolf were finally reunited with the belts that the Legionnaires had taunted them with, week-in and week-out.

2009 BEST TAG TEAM OF THE YEAR
VOX NIHILI: ALIAS AND KARINA WOLFENDEN- FANS WRESTLING ORGANIZATION

——————————–

Best Female E-Wrestler
Georgie Nickles- Totally Fictional Wrestling Federation, Sin City Wrestling, Phoenix Wrestling Revolution, The Experts
Miss USA- Dream Wrestling Federation, Missouri Valley Wrestling
Valora Salinas- Wrestling Midwest

Suave: “And now, it’s time to recognize the lovely ladies who go out week after week and lay it all on the line.  Sometimes, they seem to get lost in the shuffle it seems.  But all three ladies up for Best Female E-Wrestler of the Year can stand with the big boys any time.  Georgie Nickles is the Experts ‘True Expert’ Title holder.  Valora Salinas just won the top title in Wrestling Midwest last week.  And Miss USA?  She came back from a humiliating scandal at DWF to win the MVW title in August.  Let’s look at our two finalists…”

Miss USA- Dream Wrestling Federation, Missouri Valley Wrestling
As noted earlier, Miss USA was a key player in the Mike Polowy/DWF Women’s title angle.  She left DWF and not on the best terms to go to High Octane Wrestling.  However, her career at HOW never got off the ground and Lee Best sold her contract to PCW.  It was there where Miss USA began to put the pieces of her career back together.

Suave: “Ironically, after winning the Missouri Valley title and unifying the PCW Women’s title, Miss USA went to DWF’s Golden Dreams PPV with a chance of unifying the DWF Women’s title with the MVW title.”

Missouri Valley Wrestling Champion Miss USA vs.
Dream Wrestling Federation Women’s Champion Jill Berg from DWF’s Golden Dreams PPV
(Source: DWF/MVW)
…Tessa: “This is just a mess. We’ve got multiple battles going on all over the arena between the Missouri Valley Wrestlers and Jill-Berg’s bodyguards. Berg is slowly making her way back to the ring. Security and medical staff attended to both men who went over the railings. And there…there she is.

Miss USA gingerly steps down the stairwell leading back to the floor.

Berg hits the ring first and demands Referee Davey Keels start the count. He does (.1) Miss USA chants start as she walks between sections 1 and 2 on the floor. (..2) (…3) Berg flops back into a ring turnbuckle to catch her breath. (….4) (…..5) Miss USA now at the corner of the ring. Berg runs over and leaps through the ropes. Miss USA gets hit with a diving elbow smash. Berg takes her by the hair and flings her back into the ring.

Jill-Berg pops right back up, chops from Jill-Berg exchanged with leg kicks by Miss USA. Whip by Miss USA, she charges but Jill-Berg lifts her to the apron. Jill-Berg catches a kick from Miss USA and dragon screws the leg through the ropes! Miss USA goes to the floor and Jill-Berg follows, whipping Miss USA to the barricade and following up with a couple of chops.

Tessa: “Miss USA just got her second wind!”

Judith: “Both women have, Tess.”

Back inside Jill-Berg goes to work on the leg with a step over toehold. Leg grapevine applied now. Miss USA fights her way free so Jill-Berg drops a fist on the knee. Miss USA tries to go to the floor but Jill-Berg drags her back in and drops a knee to the inside of the leg. Cover…1…kickout. Jill-Berg then applies the Achilles lock. Keels checks for a tap-out. Miss USA makes it to the ropes after some wrenching. Jill-Berg wraps the leg around the ropes for a few seconds before elbowing Miss USA in the face. Scoop slam by Jill-Berg and now we have a chop battle. Miss USA hits a couple of kicks to the chest, selling the bad leg. she charges but Jill-Berg blocks and BACK SUPLEXES HER OVER THE TOP! Jill-Berg ties the leg of Miss USA in the barricade and hits a running knee strike into it. Shinbreaker by Jill-Berg, she puts Miss USA on the apron and tries a shinbreaker off the apron but Miss USA blocks. Kicks by Miss USA and she drops the arm of Jill-Berg over the edge of the apron! Miss USA whips Jill-Berg to the rail, ties up the arm and returns the favor from earlier, kicking Jill-Berg’s arm in the railing. Back inside now and Miss USA hits a hammerlock slam. Whip and a clothesline by Miss USA, who is still limping. Arm wringer and a series of chops by Miss USA followed by a kick to the chest and an armlock submission. Jill-Berg makes the ropes so Miss USA hits a snap mare and locks in a cloverleaf-Tequila sunrise combo! She nearly has Jill-Berg almost vertical. Berg slips out of it. Running forearm in the corner by Miss USA, a round kick and a snap suplex. Miss USA goes up top and HITS the diving headbutt. She hooks the legs…1…2…kickout again by Berg.

Tessa: “Incredible action, Judith. You were right. Both women have gotten their second wind.”

Miss USA goes for the cross armbreaker! Jill-Berg blocks by clasping her hands but Miss USA manages to lock it in! Jill-Berg makes it to the ropes immediately. Miss USA obliges but Jill-Berg is still shaking it off! Berg blocks a kick and catches the leg…ENZUIGIRI by Miss USA. Berg is staggered but catches Miss USA with a release German suplex! Berg with some stinging jabs and a Mongolian chop. she charges Miss USA and eats a boot but shrugs it off and clotheslines her in the corner. Whip into the corner by Berg. Miss USA responds with a series of round kicks that drive Berg back. Handspring spin kick. Cover. 1…2…Berg kicks out. Miss USA gets a couple of kicks to the elbow of Jill-Berg but runs into a Flatliner! Jill-Berg has her up for a vertical suplex…Miss USA lands on her feet! BUZZSAW KICK by Jill-Berg. She hooks the leg…1…2…2.887!

Tessa: “I don’t believe she kicked out of that. Unbelievable.”

Judith: “Tess, both ladies have really taken it to the next level. Very few people would have survived that kick.”

Scoop slam by Berg, she goes to the top. Miss USA also up with a stiff chop. Both women fighting up top. Miss USA gets some elbows and tries a sunset bomb. Jill-Berg manages to block it but Miss USA hits an enziguiri with Jill-Berg still on the top! Up goes Miss USA again, she jumps…SUPER RANA! Cover…1…2…Berg somehow kicks out. Miss USA calls for the DR Driver but Jill-Berg drops to a knee, then back drops out of it. Jill-Berg blocks a kick but Miss USA rolls into the cross armbreaker! Jill-Berg rolls into it so Miss USA transitions to a triangle choke! Jill-Berg is fading, the arm drops twice…NO! Jill-Berg stands up on the third check! she flips Miss USA across her shoulders and goes to the top turnbuckle. Berg hooks the leg and wrist and turns Miss USA upside down. She falls to the sitout position.

Tessa: “LAST FALCONRY? How in the hell did she pull that off!”

Judith: “Dangerous move! Very dangerous! Especially when she can barely see with all the blood on her face.”

Berg covers. 1…2…2.902!!!!! Berg can’t believe it. She pulls Miss USA back up. Hard forearms by Jill-Berg, she whips Miss USA in but Miss USA handsprings into a standing drop kick! Jill-Berg measures…LARIAT!!! Cover…1…2…2.955!!! Jill-Berg tries a hilo kick but Miss USA counters with a rollup! 1..2…no! Jill-Berg runs into a back kick. Miss USA locks her arms around Berg’s waist and lifts her up, flipping her over, and slamming her down to the mat back first.

Tessa: “DOCTOR DRIVER!!!”

Judith: “She didn’t get all of it though!”

Cover…1…2…NO! Miss USA tries for another Doctor Driver but Jill-Berg blocks, Miss USA with a series of short kicks to the head and another Doctor Driver attempt. AGAIN Jill-Berg counters, this time doing a 540 spin and delivering a kick on the button!!!! Berg covers. 1…2…2.988! Jill-Berg is stalking Miss USA, HUGE corner clothesline. Jill-Berg puts Miss USA up top, goes up on the outside behind her but Miss USA fights off. Miss USA looks for a superplex but is pushed down. She charges back in with a head kick and again goes up top and AGAIN is knocked down.

Jill-Berg lifts her up. Miss USA blocks and out of nowhere hits a back suplex! Berg retreats to the floor.

Tessa: “MISS USA!!! I don’t believe it! She flew between the ropes with a tope con hilo but WAY overshot it and only caught Jill-Berg a glancing blow on the shoulder before flying into the crowd!”

Judith: “Somehow Miss USA is alive.

Tessa: “She’s able to roll Jill-Berg back in. Berg charges. Miss USA moves! Jill-Berg hits the post shoulder-first!”

Miss USA gets up. A Frankensteiner by Miss USA tatoos Jill Berg’s forehead with the mat’s texture. Miss USA going up top. She moonsaults from the top rope and crushes Berg. Cover…1…2…2.9999. Miss USA stands up.

Tessa: “OH!!! Air Sabu by Miss USA hits its mark!”

Miss USA is up again. Miss USA leg drops Jill Berg thru a table! Patriot Missile dropkick from Miss USA off of the top rope. Jill Berg gets hit with the shooting star press from Miss USA. Referee Davey Keels makes the count. …1 …2 …3

Tessa: “That’s it! She’s done it. We’ve got ourselves a winner!”

Zenk: “The winner of this match, and the Missouri Valley Wrestling Champion, Miss USA!”

Tessa: “Judith, it’s hard to believe that five short months ago, Miss USA’s wrestling career was in question. Tonight, on her finest night as a professional, she came through with an epic performance that should erase any doubts. ”

Georgie Nickles- Totally Fictional Wrestling Federation, Sin City Wrestling, Phoenix Wrestling Revolution, The Experts

Georgie Nickles had a very busy 2009 as she appeared in not only TFWF, SCW, and PWR but also did cameos in Simcoe County as well.  The ‘Rebel Child’ hit it big in August when she made her way through the 64 wrestler field in the Expert’s Extreme Tournament to face Hannibal Cage in the finals for the True Expert title. 

Georgie Nickles vs. Hannibal Cage for the True Expert Title
(Source: The Experts)
……The fans go wild, a few booing as Cage bridges, going for a pin…1…

…2…

…NO! Nickles manages to push herself onto the ropes in time, and the fans cheer loudly as she stumbles up to her feet. Cage stalks her as she turns, and he goes for a second LKG, however Nickles just manages to push him away and as he turns she lifts him up and nails him with the Ride The Lightning (Psycho Driver) – the finisher of her good friend AC Thunder!!! The crowd cheer loudly, and a few begin to chant for AC as a desperate Nickles rolls him over and covers…1…

…2…

…THREE! THE CROWD GO WILD! Nickles suddenly gets an adrenaline rush as she leaps to her feet and rolls out of the ring, grabbing the True Expert Championship. She raises it above her head.

LS: And the third falls goes to Georgie Nickles! Therefore here is your winner and NEW True Expert Champion… Georgie Nickles!

The fans cheer loudly as Nickles leans on the announce table, raising the belt. She turns around, however as she does so the referee grabs her head and begins to whisper into her ear. The fans stay quiet for a bit as Nickles’ face suddenly turns to that of anger, as the referee speaks quickly to Larry Smith.

LS: Ladies and Gentlemen I’ve just been informed, that the referee failed to spot Hannibal Cage’s foot on the bottom rope during that pin, and that Georgie Nickles has in fact not won. The match is to continue…….

……..The fans go absolutely mad as Georgie herself looks as if she can’t believe she kicked out. She stumbles to her feet and turns as a furious Hannibal Cage kicks the top of the steel stairs off, revealing the metal bottom. He turns around and lifts Nickles onto the apron, climbing up with her, however before he can do anything Nickles slams a boot into his gut. She climbs back into the ring, and springboards off the top rope, corkscrewing, grabbing Cage’s head and driving him into the steel stairs with the Angelic Anarchy! Everyone in the building gets to their feet as Nickles collapses over Cage…ONE…

…TWO…

…THREE! With no ropes around for Cage to grab, and no way of contesting this pin, the referee signals for the bell and the arena buzzes madly as “Misery Business” plays. Nickles slumps back as the referee hands her the True Expert Championship belt.

JS: HERE IS YOUR WINNER AND NEW TRUE EXPERT CHAMPION; GEORGIE NICKLES!

Suave: “Georgie would face an even stiffer test in November when she faced Level-One, a former True Experts’ champion and #1 ranked wrestler in the world at the Expert’s Rival Factions show.”

Georgie Nickles © vs. Level-One for the True Experts Title
(Source: The Experts)
…..As Nickles and One continue to circle the fans clap loudly, each clap being joined by a chant for Georgie. An angered Level-One turns around and begins to scream at the fans; giving Georgie the perfect opportunity, which she takes! With One’s back to her, Nickles drops down and rolls One up…1…2…3!!! The roof nearly blows off of the arena as Georgie slides straight out of the ring and the referee follows, handing her the title. “Misery Business” begins to play and Level-One rests on his knees in the middle of the ring, a look of pure shock on his face as Nickles stands on the ramp with the title in the air. All of a sudden the music cuts, and Draeden Darksky appears on the plasma screens.

DD: What the hell was that?! No! No, no, no! I am NOT standing for that… re-start the match, NOW! My main event is not ending that quickly… in fact, as Miss Nickles appears to be so eager to finish this one, how about we change it up? Georgie, if you get disqualified or counted out, you lose that title. Oh, and to retain it? You’ve got to get a FOUR count! Now get back in the ring……

Suave:  “Later on in the match…”

……Nickles runs at the cornered One and leaps up, crashing a knee into his head before she raises a hand. She begins to land a series of punches into his head before jumping back and dropkicking his chest, using her momentum to backflip off. The fans cheer and Georgie responds by running to the opposite corner and raising her hands; however as she’s gaining support, she doesn’t see Level-One slyly remove the top turnbuckle pad, and replaces himself in front of the metal. Georgie drops down from the top rope and turns back to her challenger, running for another high knee, however One steps forward and lifts her up, dropping her face-first onto the metal with a flapjack! She stumbles back, clearly rocked by the impactful shot, and the fans boo Level-One’s underhanded tactics as he scoops Nickles up and slams her down with a massive clothesline, and covers…1…2…No! Kickout from Nickles, and a frustrated Level-One smashes the mat. He crawls over Nickles and grasps at her head, smashing a series for forearms and fists into it before he lifts her up and grasps around her waist, dead-lifting her for a german suplex! The crowd gasp and get to their feet as Nickles slumps, and falls out of the ring. Level-One, knowing full well he would gain the title should she lose via countout, remains in the ring as the referee counts. 1… Georgie lays motionless on the ground, and the fans begin to chant her name…2… Level-One begins to smirk, urging the referee to count faster…3… Nickles stirs a little, but looks well and truly broken…4… still minimal movement from the Rebel Child…5…

JR: The title’s just five seconds away from being around the waist of a proper wrestler!

EV: How is Georgie not a proper wrestler?!

JR: She’s a girl…

EV: I really hate you sometimes…..

…Georgie Nickles is near enough on the verge of tears as she realises she’s got One down and probably has the four-count, however there’s no match official! She drags the challenger into the middle of the ring and turns to the side where the referee’s out, however as she tries to bring him round a loud cheer goes up as another referee comes running out from the curtain! Clearly a quick replacement as the match official is just wearing a striped shirt over a hoodie, the hood still up even, Nickles’ face lights up regardless, realising she finally has a chance to win it. The referee slides in and points to the fallen challenger as Georgie hooks the far leg…ONE…

EV: SHE’S GOT IT!

…TWO…

JR: KICKOUT LEVEL ONE!

…THREE…

EV: YES COME ON!

…FO-

EV: WHAT?!

JR: THE REFEREE STOPPED THE COUNT!!!!

…A stunned silence sweeps across the entire arena as Georgie’s eyes bulge, tears actually beginning to leak out as she stares in horror at the referee, whose hand is a matter of millimetres from touching the mat. There’s no way in hell they could have thought Level-One kicked out, and slowly the referee reaches onto their hood and peels it back. Immediately Nickles stumbles back in absolute shock, screaming loudly as she realises what’s happened.

EV: THAT’S HANNIBAL CAGE!

The crowd boo loudly, and a few chant ‘fuck you’ at the new…referee… and Nickles falls to her knees, pleading for them to count. She once more lays on Level-One, hooking the leg, however Cage smirks widely as he shakes his head, shouting at Nickles that she’s pathetic. She stumbles to her feet, pushing on his chest with anger, and instantly he turns to disqualify her, however remembering that it would cost her the belt, he stops himself. Georgie looks up at him, and seeing and conniving look in his eyes, rapidly shakes her head. But it’s too late, and Cage leaps up, connecting with the LKG! Nickles hits the mat out cold, and Level-One begins to stir as boos reign down on the pair. One gets to his feet and he looks up at Cage, and down to Nickles, smiling widely. He holds out a hand for Cage to shake, thanking the Battle Royal Winner, however Cage shakes his head and leaps up, nailing One with the LKG! The fans go wild as One lays next to Nickles, out cold, and Cage notices the original referee getting to his feet. He stares down at the pair, before laughing to himself as he drags Nickles onto One!

Cage slides from the ring as the original ref climbs in, and wearily counts… ONE… TWO… THREE… FOUR! The crowd go nuts with cheers as “Misery Business” hits, however there’s no celebrating in the ring as Nickles and One are out cold, with Cage standing over them. He takes the title from the timekeeper, and kisses it before placing it on Nickles and kissing her cheek crudely. He smirks, and boos reign down on him as he exits the ring…

Suave: “With Hannibal Cage as the number one contender, Georgie will have to face him again at the end of January at the Expert’s Invitation V show. 

“Then, with that in mind, the Best Female E-Wrestler of the Year goes to…

Valora Salinas- Wrestling Midwest

Suave: “No one had a better year in e-wrestling than Valora Salinas.  No one.  She rose up to win WMW’s Hardcore title and then retired it and won the Ace Superior title.  In single’s action, Valora was nearly unbeatable in 2009, winning two epic matches with Adam Pyre and defeating her nemesis Druscilla.  She slowly climbed up the ladder in the WWR Women’s rankings and reached #1 late in the year.”

Valora Salinas © vs. Adam Pyre – WMW Hardcore Title Match from Burn 2009
……[In the ring, both wrestlers stare at each other for long moments, each one trying to figure out what they have to do to keep the other down long enough to escape the cage.  The camera zooms in on Valora's face, now totally covered in blood and then switches to Adam Pyre's face, also covered in blood as the two exchange words while on the outside of the ring, Trauma nurses arrive to back up the Paramedics, both groups actively campaigning Sault St. Marie to stop the match.  Sault St. Marie watches the ring intently, studying both of his wrestlers in the ring. As they stare at each other the two walk forward and lock up, jockeying for position.  Pyre tries to hit Valora with a knee to the midsection, but Valora blocks with her own leg, then counters with a knee to Pyre's midsection, slipping behind him and locking in the Tazzmision, locking it in tight as she screams out, tightening her arms around Adam Pyre's neck as she cuts off his oxygen supply, slowly taking him to the mat, locking her legs around his ribs to further drive the air out of him.  Adam Pyre flails around, trying desperately to escape but his movements quickly become slower, slower... slower until finally he stops moving.  Valora leaves the hold on for a few more seconds to be sure and then nods to herself as she starts to crawl across the ring, calling for the cage to be opened.  The door is opened and as Pyre lies unconscious in the ring, Valora slowly crawls under the ropes and through the door, falling face first into a heap on the floor outside the cage.  The bell rings as Pier and Law signal escape from the cage.]

Jack Gene – Valora did it!  She beat Adam Pyre in a match Pyre invented and made famous!  This woman is unbeatable!!!

Bill Hughes – That’s my girl!!!

Wayne Inkster – Ladies and Gentlemen, your winner and still WMW Hardcore Champion….VALORA SALINAS!!!!!

Locker Room before match with Ryven for the Ace Superior Title
…[The trainer opens his mouth to object then shakes his head and sighs, finishing the tape job and leaving the locker room.  After he's gone, Valora stares at the floor after finishing her third straight bottle of Gatorade and lets out a long sigh:]

Here it is.  The biggest moment in the biggest night of my life is right here.  My countrymen are gathered from all over to watch Ryven and I go to war, surprisingly for the second time tonight.  Gotta say Kronin surprised the hell out of me with that move.  Ryven won the first battle.  He helped Kronin keep the Tag Team titles, but now, comes the big battle.  Everything will change for me in just a few moments.  I will either climb the mountain, prove that I can beat Ryven one on one and become the Ace Superior Champion, or Ryven will claim his second victory over me, show the world that I am not unbeatable and force me back to face Druscilla and Father Nathan for another shot at the title.  I have worked too hard for this moment.  A loss in any other time and place would be acceptable, but not here.  I can not, will not lose to Ryven here in the capital of my country, the home of my ancestors.  I’ve said if Ryven plans to win, he better kill me.  I suspect only he, I and Hecate know just how accurate and true that statement was, which brings us to the question Ryven must answer:  Is he willing to go that far?  Just how much of a war does Ryven want?  How much blood can he live with on his hands? We’re about to find out.  It’s time.

[Valora stands up and takes a deep breath as she stands there a moment, lost in her thoughts.]

Valora – This is for my familia, gathered in the stadium, hoping for a bright spot, even if it’s watching one of their own win a wrestling match…  This is no longer about you and me, Ryven.  This just got bigger.

Valora Salinas vs. Ryven © for the Ace Superior Title at WMW’s El Dia de los Muertos PPV
……[Ryven smirks as he walks over to Azteca and drags her to her feet, but Valora counters by taking the point of her elbow and shoving it into Ryven's chest, following it up with two more blows and an uppercut to the jaw as she turns to face him.  She then grabs Ryven by the head and runs to the corner, running along it and the ropes before she jumps off, turning around in mid air so that she and Ryven are facing towards the middle of the ring as she brings him down into a cutter like move, bringing a loud cheer from the crowd, even as both her and Ryven lay on the mat not moving.  The humidity in the air is evident as a a hazy mist, which has been present all match, becomes even more noticeable now as both Azteca and Ryven crawl to the ropes and use the ropes to pull themselves to their feet, both leaning against the ropes heavily. Ryven pulls himself to his feet and wipes the blood and sweat from his face, raising his hands as Azteca advances towards him.  The two trade punches, Azteca getting the better of the exchange as she pelts his face and body with a flurry of punches but Ryven throws a punch, hitting Azteca in the throat again, stopping her attack as she drops to a knee before Ryven grabs Azteca and lifts her up, spinning around and throwing her to the ground with the Awakening.  He goes right into the cover and Luna Pier makes the count but at the last second, Azteca raises her foot and puts it on the ropes, causing Luna Pier to stop counting.  Ryven looks at the positioning in the ring and grits his teeth, dragging Azteca into the middle of the ring and lays her there before bending over her and slapping her in the face.

Ryven - You want a war!?  You want more?!

[Ryven goes and grabs Azteca's arm, preparing to lock in the Triangle Choke, but Azteca rolls Ryven up with an inside cradle.  Luna Pier counts but gets to a 2 and a half count before Ryven kicks out.  Another 'Azteca' chant rises from the crowd as Ryven pulls her to her feet but Azteca counters with a right hand left hand, right hand punch combo to the gut before jumping to her feet and throwing another uppercut that nails Ryven, dazing him for a moment before Azteca jumps into the air, and spins, hitting him with Trouble in Paradise, which brings a huge roar from the crowd as Azteca then runs to the turnbuckle, climbing up quickly and leaping off, getting higher then usual and as she comes out of the first corkscrew turn, she changes her move into a Frog Splash like move, landing hard on top of Ryven and going for the cover.  Luna Pier drops down and the crowd counts with her as her hand hits the mat "UNO! DOS!  TRES!!"  Luna Pier calls for the bell and the crowd goes nuts, exploding into thunderous cheers that once again have the stadium appear as if it is literally shaking.]

Jack Gene – She did it!  Azteca climbs the mountain top and is the new Ace Superior Champion!  She did it!  I can’t believe it but she found just enough gas in the tank to win the match!

 

2009 BEST FEMALE E-WRESTLER OF THE YEAR
VALORA SALINAS- WRESTLING MIDWEST