Refueled 011

Refueled 011

The HOTv logo gives way to the HOW logo and then finally we cut, not to inside the arena, but instead to the parking lot directly outside.

A white van pulls up to the arena. It stops in front of the back doors and out walks Dr. Michaels of the Langley Porter Psychiatric Hospital. He smiles as he takes a few steps towards the doors. Then two large men in white polos step out of the van and open the sliding door.

Dr. Michaels: Gentlemen, please escort the patient.

The men grab an individual by the upper arms and escort him out of the van. It’s Brenton Cross. He’s in patient garb, and his wrists are restrained.

Dr. Michaels: You know our deal, Brenton. We allow you to have your match, and then tomorrow we begin our evaluations… if that works with “the timeline”.

Brenton stares at him, sighs, and nods his head.

Dr. Michaels: Good, because we have a lot of ground to cover. Gentlemen, please escort Brenton to the locker room area.

Dr. Michaels whispers into one of the orderly’s ears.

Dr. Michaels: Don’t let him out of your sight.

Dr. Michaels extends his arm in the direction of the arena, and the men escort Brenton into the arena as we cut live inside the famous All State Arena.


We cut directly to the Hall of Fame announcers desk where we have a direct shot on Hall of Famers Joe Hoffman and Big Buff Benny Newell……and we see Newell is sporting his customary Santa’s hat.

Joe Hoffman: Welcome everyone to FRIDAY NIGHT CHAOS!!!! I am Joe Hoffman and as always I am joined by my Hall of Fame cohort….Big Buff Benny Newell….and I gotta say Benny….its nice to see that FINALLY that silly hat of yours is finally in season.

Benny Newell: When you ho ho ho as much as I do Joe…….its ALWAYS in season….and speaking of being in season….what do you put on the top of the High Octane Christmas Tree……huh huh?

Joe just rolls his eyes before playing along…

Joe Hoffman: I do not know Benny. What do you put on the top of a—-

Benny Newell: A MOTHERFUCKING STAR……AND TONIGHT THE MAN THAT IS AT THE TOP OF ALL THINGS HIGH OCTANE IS FUCKING HERE……..JATT MOTHERFUCKING STARR!!!!!!

Joe is taken aback by Benny’s enthusiasm but there is nothing he can do but be the pro that he is and continue on…

Joe Hoffman: Well that is what the website reported earlier…..we have heard that song and dance before…..so…..

Benny Newell: SCROOGE……FUUUUUUUUUCK YOU SCROOOGE!!!

Benny flips off Joe as we cut away as its time for our first match of the evening…


Joe Hoffman: Alright folks…..lets get this show going and our first match tonight is Jace Savage up against relative newcomer Brenton Cross who is probably one of the most unique talents here in High Octane Wrestling. We just saw from Brenton Cross arriving at the arena earlier, he looks motivated and ready.

Benny Newell: But how can we know he’s new?! Maybe he’s been here for years, Hoffman, but his time travel keeps breaking our time line and making us feel like he;s brand new?! What if he is Splinter???

Joe Hoffman: I.. I think you might be overthinking this.

Benny Newell: I might have taken some Shrooms before we started this show…….or its because JATT FUCKING STARR IS HERE!!!!

Joe Hoffman:… Great. Anyway..

Down in the ring Jace Savage is already standing in the ring along with Bryan McVay as the fans excitedly murmur.

Bryan McVay: Ladies and Gentlemen this is the following contest is for ONE FALL. Introducing first, already in the ring, JACE SAVAGE!

Savage doesn’t look overly energetic in the ring as he holds his hands up in his corner to a mild response from the audience. In the middle of his posing the lights die down bathing the stage in light while the rest of the arena is darkened. 

“CHOCHISE” by Audioslave rumbles over the P.A. system as smoke fills up the entrance way. The crowd begins to get loud as they cheer the smoke and the dark figure that slowly wanders up through it. Brenton Cross finally appears on the ramp as the smoke swirls around him giving him a mythic appearance.

Bryan McVay: And introducing his opponent. From A Time Unknown.. BRENTON CROSS!

The reaction from the crowd as he is announced is far better than it is for Jace Savage though Brenton more or less ignores them. He makes his way to the ring with one eye fixed on the ring as his face is hardened into a determined grimace. He makes his way to the ring at a steady pace before sliding under the bottom room, rolling up onto his feet quickly before taking up a position in the center of the ring. McVay exits as Brenton poses in the center of the ring offering the fans a lovely photo op before the music stops and the lights in the arena rise.

Joe Hoffman: Brenton Cross coming off a loss to the LSD Champion Maximillian Kael last week and looking to push past that with a win tonight against Jace Savage.

Benny Newell: Good luck, Savage is literally Jace’s last name! That’s gotta count for something right?! DRINK!

The sound of Benny sucking on a bottle can be heard just before the sound of the bell ringing DING DING DING! 

Looking to gain the advantage Jace charges Brenton from his corner of the ring with a wicked looking lariat!

 

CRACK!

 

As though he had eyes in the back of his head Brenton fires a brutal looking super kick into Jace’s jaw taking him off his feet as he falls flush onto his back. Brenton doesn’t waste any time as he spins and jumps to the top turnbuckle..

Joe Hoffman: TIME TRAVEL!!

Benny Newell: Oh God, Joe I think he did something in the past! My Vodka turned into Whiskey! WHAT THE HELL?!

Brenton fells from the top rope smashing into Jace, all of Cross’s weight crashing down across Savage’s chest! Joe Hortega drops down to check for a pinfall but Savage rolls over and once again runs for the top turnbuckle..

Joe Hoffman: QUANTUM MECHANICS!!

Benny Newell: IT’S VODKA AGAIN! AAAHHHHHH!

A picture perfect 450 splash crushes Jace Savage as his body goes limp. Brenton Cross hooks both legs as Hortega drops down to check the pinfall.

 

Uno..

 

Dos!

 

TRES!!

 

Bryan McVay: The winner of the match in 1 Minute and 26 Seconds….BRENTON CROSS!!!!

Joe Hoffman: Brenton Cross picks up a neat and clean win over Jace Savage!

Benny Newell: And it turns out his matches last longer than than Lee being logged into Twitter!!

Joe Hoffman: I am NOT touching that one….We’re getting word that Blaire Moise is about to uncover some major news for all our HOW viewers.

The action cuts away as we see a final shot of Hortega holding Brenton’s arm high in the air


The scene cuts to the backstage area where a camera man is seen running behind Blaire Moise who is also running.

Blair Moise: I just got word that Lee Best is currently in his office and is signing someone to join HOW and we’re rushing to hopefully catch that person leaving Lee’s office.

They continue running until they find the door to Lee Best’s Office. At that moment the door opens and out walks Austin Reeves. Blaire Moise suddenly stops as her jaw drops from shock. They stare at each other as Blaire tries to get words to come out of her jaw that continues to keep dropping and closing from the shock.

Blair Moise:  Austin Reeves! I thought you were dead!

Reeves looks down and stares at her with a straight face.

Blair Moise: Are you back in HOW?

Reeves puts his hands on his waist then turns his head left and right to crack his neck.

Blair Moise: Why were you in Lee Best’s office? Did you just sign a HOW contract?

Reeves turns back to look into Lee’s office then looks down forward then back down at Blaire Moise.

Blair Moise:  Do you have anything to say?

Reeves smirks while shaking his head and walks away. Blaire Moise turns to look at the cameraman infront of her with a shocked look stuck on her face.

Blair Moise:  What just happened now???

Scene cuts to the crowd in the arena cheering and showing their signs as everyone wonders if Michael Lee Best actually ever killed anyone………is this stuff F—….as we cut to our first commercial break


Has Austin Reeves returned from the dead to cut a deal with the Devil……or is he here about the SON….or???


Noah makes his way to the ring and just slides under the bottom rope and goes to a corner to wait. Nothing flashy just business…

Bryan McVay:  Making his way to the ring, representing the Order….NOOOOOOAH Hanson

Noah stands in the ring patiently as Dan Ryan’s music queues up on the PA System.

Bryan McVay: Hailing from Houston, Texas, and weighing in at 305 pounds!! He… is… DAAAAANNNN… RYYYYYYAAAANNNNN!!!

The lights go out and a dual-spotlight makes an encircling pattern on the entrance area as the opening riff of the song plays. When the riff audio kicks it up a notch, Dan Ryan steps out and pauses, looking into the audience, then heads down the aisle as pyro blasts behind him. The video shows clips from his career: powerbombing Mark Windham, superkicking Craig Miles, taking Impulse’s head off with a clothesline, hitting Eli Flair with the Headliner, countering a Castor Strife dive into a vicious powerslam, smirking as he pins Bronson Box.

♫ My reflection, dirty mirror♫

♫ There’s no connection to myself ♫

♫ I’m your lover, I’m your zero ♫

♫ I’m the face in your dreams of glass ♫

♫ So save your prayers ♫

♫ For when we’re really gonna need ’em ♫

♫ Throw out your cares and fly ♫

♫ Wanna go for a ride? ♫

 

Ryan walks directly to the ring, rolls in under the bottom rope and climbs the nearest turnbuckle, keeping his arms down and smirking into the crowd as the music plays.

Benny Newell:  Over under on this match?

Joe Hoffman:  What are you talking about?  I don’t bet on matches

Benny Newell:  Over and under on how much I drink after watching the bloodbath Dan Ryan will cause on Noah Hanson.

Joe Hoffman:  Don’t count Hanson out, Benny.  He’s a veteran around the business.  He might represent the Order, but Hanson’s a talent you don’t sleep on.

Matt Boettcher rings the bell and Noah charges towards Dan Ryan with a massive headbutt.  Hanson then turns around and tries to punch at Dan Ryan, but Ryan grabs Hanson by his jaw.  He tosses Hanson on the outside with force. Ryan jumps out and attempts to go for the clothesline, but Hanson ducks.   Hanson tries to DDT Ryan on the concrete outside, but Ryan inverts it into a headlock. Hanson proceeds to try and bite Ryan while Boettcher’s count goes up to 7.  Ryan gets exceedingly pissed off and grabs Hanson by his lower jaw and smashes his entire jaw line into the steel steps before dragging him inside the ring.

Joe Hoffman:  By God!  Ryan just smashed Hanson’s jaw line hard.  How will he be able to eat after that?

Benny Newell:  Maybe if he took some lessons from Darin Zion and LEARNED HOW TO KEEP HIS MOUTH SHUT…

Ryan picks Noah up for a Gorilla Press and slams him hard onto the canvas.  He keeps hammering Hanson with an onslaught of kicks to his ribs, before Hanson grabs the ropes and Boettcher pulls Ryan off to the crowd’s displeasure.  As Boettcher checks on Hanson, Ryan tries to charge straight into him. Hanson grabs Boettcher’s shirt and tosses him directly into Ryan’s path an Boettcher eats a spear.

Joe Hoffman:  That dastardly Hanson!  He’s outhinking Ryan. Ryan’s showing concern for the referee.

Benny Newell:  Maybe Ryan should keep his eye on the prize.  He’s a Tag Team Champion for Christ sakes. Look at Hanson now.

WHAM!

Hanson lands a running knee straight into Ryan’s jaw.  Ryan rubs his jaw, before leaping back up to his feet looking rather pissed.  He tries charging directly for Dan Ryan when Hanson ducks and goes for a blatant low blow on Ryan.

Joe Hoffman:  SOMEONE CALL FOR THE GOD DAMN BELL!   That’s just wrong!

Benny Newell:  God are you blind too?  It’s like someone transported you into someone else’s head and you’re missing critical details of the match.  BOETTCHER IS DEAD! We need to drink in that man’s hour.

Joe Hoffman:  It just disgusts me to see Hanson using these tactics.

Hanson locks on a single leg crab.  Ryan struggles over towards the ropes and lands a rope break, but Boettcher is still down.  The crowd claps for Ryan to try to make it back to his feet. Ryan channels the love from the Rosemont fans and pulls himself back to a standing base with Hanson trying to invert the hold into an ankle lock.  Finally Ryan lays one stiff stomp to Hanson’s head and he releases the hold. Hanson gets frustrated and gears up to go for a Rolling Elbow, but Ryan picks him up and hits a Powerslam stiff towards the mat. Boettcher awakens from his coma and makes a fast count.

 

ONE

 

TWO

 

THR

 

NO!  Hanson’s kicked out.

Benny Newell:  Boettcher LIVES!  Give that man a drink.

Joe Hoffman:  He’s trained for this.  Keep your eyes on the action.  Ryan’s getting fired up right now.  He’s going for a DDT….

Benny Newell:  Looks like Hanson just hit a Fisherman Suplex on him.

Hanson gets the best of Ryan, who slowly tries to get back to his feet.  Hanson then attempts to climb to the top rope. Ryan leaps back up to his feet, completely unphased from the massive drop.  His adrenaline kicks in. He attempts to hit a Suplex on Hanson, but Hanson rakes him in the eyes. Hanson jumps off the ropes and lands the elbow drop…

Joe Hoffman:  HANSON CONNECTS WITH THE MAT!

Benny Newell:  Just because Ryan’s blind doesn’t mean he can’t hear what’s going on here!  He knew Hanson’s strategy, almost like he could see it coming.

Ryan gets back up to his feet.  Ryan charges towards Hanson and Hanson hits a drop toe hold on Ryan causing him to land face first in the corner.    Hanson charges with a missle drop kick with his legs high to Ryan’s jaw. As Hanson crawls a way to get another one off, Ryan’s had enough and grabs Hanson and launches him into the air like a missle.  He stiffly grabs Hanson’s Legs and nails a Humility Bomb, causing Hanson’s back to fly a few centimeters off the ground due to the impact. Boettcher makes the cover.

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THREE!

 

Bryan McVay:  Here is your winner:   DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN RYAAAAAAN!

Boettcher raises Ryan’s hand to the delight of the crowd.

Joe Hoffman:  Stiff Humility Bomb ends it for Hanson.  He’s out like a light after Ryan’s brute force went into that bomb.

Benny Newell:  He’s showing he’s determined to win that Championship off Cecilworth with that showing tonight.  The pure dominance of Dan Ryan….I could drink to that.

Newell raises his glass as Ryan celebrates his win as we cut elsewhere….


The scene cuts backstage.  Steve Solex is show sitting on a bench in front of a row of lockers.  His head is down, as he finishes lacing his boots.  He looks up and into the camera and gives a smarmy smirk.

Steve Solex:  This isn’t the first time that Mike and I have found ourselves across the ring from one another, and I’m nearly positive it won’t be the last.  Win or lose tonight, I’m going to leave it all in the ring.

Solex laughs a bit before continuing.

Steve Solex:  Seven years ago Mike and I went head to head.  That night we weren’t in a HOW ring, but in a ring with a past wrestling company called LPW.  I was the World’s Heavyweight Champion at the time, and Mike was invited in for a match in some sort of crossover promotion.

Solex’s smirk turns to a look of disgust.

Steve Solex: Mike beat me down that night.  It was an embarrassing moment for me, as LPW’s Champion and representative.  For seven years I’ve lived with the regret of losing that match.  For seven years I’ve watched that match over and over, and I’ve yet to figure out what went wrong.

Solex stands up from the bench and looks down into the camera.

Steve Solex:  Tonight that changes.  Tonight, I fight for redemption.  I fight to rewrite history, and change the record books.  Hell, I fight to become the unsanctioned HOFC Champion.  Tonight, I will beat Mike Best.  I will rewrite history, and I will leave here with the HOFC Championship belt – sanctioned or not.

Solex turns to walk away, but pauses and returns to the camera.

Steve Solex:  And after I lay waste to Mike Best tonight.  I might just look up an old friend and see what he’s got planned for ICONIC.

Solex turns and walks away as the scene cuts back to ringside..


Joe Hoffman: Strong words from Steve Solex there, Benny, as we’re about ready to kick off the match between him and Mike Best.

Benny Newell: Hey, Hoffhole, you need to start showing Mike the respect he deserves. The man is a champion and should be recognized as such.

Joe Hoffman: You know good and well the HOFC Championship is not a sanctioned belt, Benny. It wasn’t sanctioned for his match against Noah Hanson at Refueled IX and it isn’t sanctioned for his match this week against Steve Solex. And given what went down during the ICON Championship match two weeks ago between Cecilworth Farthington and Lindsay Troy, I can’t say he’s made any kind of case for getting that decision reversed. 

Benny Newell: Think again, pal. Our Son of God’s out here making statements to get what he wants. So what that he wanted to get a closer view of the ICON title match and support his eMpire teammate and HOW’s Best Boy? Good friends support each other. If Lindsay Troy had better friends, they would’ve been out there sooner, don’t you think?

Joe Hoffman: What? No! And Mike didn’t just get a “closer view of the ICON title match,” Benny, and you know it. He nearly destroyed Lindsay Troy’s arm with the HOFC title belt!

Benny Newell: You wanna make an omelette, you gotta crack a few elbows.

Joe Hoffman: That’s…not how the saying goes.

Benny Newell: It does tonight! DRINK!

Joe Hoffman: (sighing) Let’s just go to Brian McVay for the intros.

The camera cuts to ring announcer Brian McVay, all spiffed up in a suit and tie. He lifts a microphone to his mouth, but before he can get a word out the opening clap-stomp beats of “Watch Me” by The Phantoms hit the speakers as the fans live in Chicago jump to their feet. They roar their approval as soon when the lyrics kick in, bringing Lindsay Troy out through the curtain.

Under normal circumstances, she is a picture of composure; not one to show her feathers have been ruffled. She’s worked hard over the years to temper her hotheadedness; the fly-off-at-the-handle, run-headlong-into-danger Lindsay Troy. Action first, consequences later Lindsay Troy. She grew up, learned to scheme a little more, planned a little better, took a few more breaths.

It paid off for her.

But the events of Refueled IX ignited a little bit of that old Lindsay Troy, and the angry look on her face in the Windy City tonight is a surefire sign of it. Sporting a short-sleeved “Industry Professional” t-shirt, jeans, boots, and a futuristic-looking elbow brace, the Queen of the Ring storms down the aisle, not bothering to bask in the ovation and the pyro on the stage like she normally does.

Joe Hoffman: Looks like we’ll be putting Mike Best vs. Steve Solex on hold for the moment as Lindsay Troy is here in Chicago!

Benny Newell: What did I tell you about omelettes and elbows, Joe Joe?

Joe Hoffman: You’d better not let her hear you say that, because she could still kick your ass, elbow brace or no.

Benny Newell: Shit, that thing looks like something out of the Westworld. I bet it could make an omelette for me.

Troy isn’t even doing her flippy-doo-over-the-top-rope-into-the-ring bit. She ascends the steps instead and eases her way between the top and middle ropes. McVay hands her his microphone and concedes the floor. Troy gives him a little nod of appreciation; that’s about as cordial as she’s going to be tonight.

The crowd buzzes as “Watch Me” trails off. Troy gives them about five seconds before she starts.

Lindsay Troy: Some people might’ve been wondering about my condition after the horseshit ending to the ICON title match two weeks ago, but as you can see: I might be a little battered but I’m not taken out.

She extends her arms, albeit it takes a little more effort to hold the arm out that the brace is on, and it’s not outstretched as far as her good one. Chicago’s Faithful cheer in response to this gesture.

Joe Hoffman: Lindsay Troy sending a message to the eMpire: they didn’t quite get the job done!

Benny Newell: They kept the ICON title around Cecilworth Farthington’s waist, though. That was the number one goal, Hoffy!

Lindsay Troy: (begins pacing) And as disappointed as I am that I didn’t prevent Farthington’s from breaking Sektor’s streak and claim the ICON title for myself, I know that’s not gonna be the last he hears from me. I know that’s not gonna be the last title shot I get in High Octane Wrestling. He couldn’t get by without a little help from his friends; he couldn’t beat me clean and decisively. Just like he hasn’t beaten Dan clean and decisively yet either.

But hey…I’m willing to put all that on hold, Cess. You got your ICON title holder record… <i>congrats</i> to you.

Benny Newell: I don’t think she really meant that.

Joe Hoffman: At one point she might have. Given what the eMpire did, I don’t blame her for having a change of tune.

Lindsay Troy: I’ve got my eyes on another child of the eMpire now. And as much as I’d like to see just how much mettle and metal Max is <i>really</i> made of, I’m afraid he’s not the one I want to dance with.

Joe Hoffman: Uh oh.

Lindsay Troy: <i><b>Michael.</i></b>

Crowd: ZOMGPOPSPLOSION~!

Lindsay Troy: You simpering little shit…

Joe Hoffman: Like I said earlier, Mike Best waylaid Lindsay Troy with the HOFC title belt and stomped on her arm with the title belt underneath it. He is a <b>big reason</b> why she’s out here with a brace on tonight.

Benny Newell: Nevermind that; she said his name in <i>the mom voice,</i> Hoffhole. THE MOM VOICE.

Lindsay Troy: Don’t think I’m gonna let you skate through your newfound wrestling freedom without accounting for your unwanted presence in my match against your bestie. Or without answering for this. (points to her brace). I may not be cleared to wrestle yet…

Crowd: BOOOOOOOO~!

Lindsay Troy: Yeah. I’m not happy about it either. Rest assured though, Mike, that when I am, I’ll see to it that you’ll relive the same pain you put me through. Your bee eff eff isn’t the only one around here who knows how to break an arm. So why don’t you come down here and tell me it was all “just business” so that I can tell you that I don’t care, and I wanna kick your ass.

The roar of the crowd is astounding, but short lived.

Almost on cue, as seems to happen in professional wrestling for some reason, “Personal Yeezus” by Depeche Mode ft. Kayne West begins to blast over the speakers in The Rosemont, heralding a fairly mixed reaction for Michael Lee Best, even so close to his hometown of Chicago. Michael makes his way out onto the stage wearing two championships– the unsanctioned HOFC Championship, and the CWF World Championship granted to him at CWF Genesis earlier this very week.

Already dressed in his ring gear, he smirks as he wanders down the ramp, microphone already in hand.

Joe Hoffman: The self-proclaimed double champion is here, Benny, and he doesn’t look too remorseful for what he did to Lindsay Troy on the last episode of Refueled.

Benny Newell: Why should he? Remorse is for the week, and that was <i>two</i> weeks ago. The statute of limitations is up, he’s a free man! No Remorse like Chris Kostoff, baby!

Joe Hoffman: For the <i>weak</i>, Benny. It’s for the <i>weak</i>.

Benny Newell: Yeah, that’s what I said. If this is a wordplay joke, it isn’t gonna work on TV, dickhead.

Shaking his head, the Unsanctioned Champ stops about midway up the ramp, taking a moment to admire the two technically insignificant championships adorned upon his shoulders.

Mike Best: Great to see ya, LT. I’d come shake your hand, but… you know. Still waiting on that doctor’s note, aren’t we?

He snickers at his own joke, because he’s the absolute worst.

Mike Best: Look, Lindz, I’m gonna be straight with you. I’m not gonna come down here and prattle off cliches about how it wasn’t personal. Because you know what? It was. It was personal, Lindsay.

The crowd begins to quiet. This wasn’t anticipated— the potential for violence coupled with the sheer dickishness of his approach have the crowd at a deadlock.

Mike Best: It’s personal because I don’t like you, Lindsay. I respect the shit out of you, and everything that you’ve done for this business. I respect your work ethic, and your talent. I respect that you’re standing in that ring, hurt, and still all that you can do is think about getting cleared and stepping into the ring with me. I respect that a lot, LT. But I don’t like you. I never have.

He lowers his head, shaking it toward the ground as the boos start slowly from the back. They aren’t “fuck you, kill yourself” level boos— the crowd clearly just doesn’t like the idea that anyone could dislike Lindsay Troy.

Mike Best: For ten years, I listened to my father drool over the prospect of signing Lindsay Troy. His “big get”. His dream signing. I win War Games, and on High Octane Radio all Lee can talk about is Lindsay Troy. I win Solitary, and Lee’s Tweeting at Lindsay Troy. I win my eighth HOW World Championship, and it’s like a FUCKING EPISODE OF THE BRADY BUNCH. Lindz, Lindz, Lindz, Lindz, Lindsay GODDAMNED TROY.

He takes a few steps closer to the ring now, sauntering at a slow pace. Lindsay stares back at him, the slightest hint of a delicious smirk on her face as she listens to his mindless diatribe– though she’s smart enough to keep an eye on her peripherals for the inevitable sneak attack.

Lindsay Troy: Mike Best has daddy issues? We had <i>no idea</i>.

The crowd explodes into cheers and laughter, which only heightens the irritation on Michael’s face. The slightest laugh escapes him, as he smirks back at her. There is no delight in his eyes.

Mike Best: Aren’t we all such grand cliches? Daddy Issues versus Tough Girl Fighter #17. You’re so, so clever, but I’m the one standing here with two championships, and you’re the one standing there with your arm in a brace, so why don’t you show some <i>fucking respect</i> around here for the first time since you walked in the door?

He reaches the end of the ramp, staring into the ring at Lindsay. The grin plastered on his face a moment ago is gone, and all semblance of taking this lightly has left his eyes.

Mike Best: I did what I had to do at Refueled nine, Lindsay, but don’t think that I didn’t enjoy every last second of it. Don’t think that I didn’t enjoy hurting you. Watching your chance at glory wash down the drain like the load that Lee Best blew the day he finally signed you. You wanted your big moment, and I got to take that away from you, and that is a memory that I will cherish for the rest of my life.

Michael climbs up the ring steps, ducking between the ropes as he steps into the ring. Lindsay Troy takes a step forward, ready for a fight, but Michael walks right past her, instead handing his belts away to referee Rick Stevens. He sneers at her as he walks past, before taking his corner for the upcoming match.

Mike Best: Now if you’ll kindly get the FUCK out of the ring, some of us have a job to do here tonight. Good luck with your boo boo, <i>booboo</i>.

Against all better judgment and, let’s be honest, good sense and reason, Lindsay Troy chuckles and shoots back with…

Lindsay Troy: Why don’t you come over here and make me leave, <i>snookums.</i>

LT tosses her mic away and steps forward with fire in her eyes, not particularly looking like she cares about her medical clearance as she approaches the corner and gets ready to give Michael a receipt for what he did two weeks ago in San Jose. Immediately, however, the boos begin to fill the arena as lackeys begins charging their way down the ramp.

And it isn’t the eMpire.

HOW security briskly fills the ring, as Michael smirks one last time at Lindsay Troy, flipping her a little salute against his forehead with his middle finger extended— the Hall of Fame finger.

Mike Best: I wish you could stay, Lindz. But that pesky little injury of yours is a liability, and my close, personal friend Scott Woodson and I know Lee Best would just be DEVASTATED if I ended the career of his little dream girl. So <i>for your own protection</i>, it might be better if you leave. Have a great night, though!

Lindsay Troy shoots forward to attack, but it’s too late– security grabs her by the good arm, pulling her back as the squad forcibly begins to drag her out of the ring. She’s thrashing against them, trying bitterly not to be pulled away from the fray as Refueled cuts to a commercial break.



Joe Hoffman: Welcome back to Refueled X. Moments ago, Lindsay Troy was escorted away from the ring by HOW security after a heated confrontation with Michael Best, who was coming down to the ring for our third match of the evening.

Benny Newell: Serves her fucking right for messing with the UNSANCTIONED CHAMP, Joe!

Joe Hoffman: I thought we established at Rumble at the Rock that you were super anti-Mike Best now? Since, you know, he fired us both?

Benny Newell: Eh, I’m allegedly over it.

Joe Hoffman: Well this match is finally slated to begin, with Steve Solex taking on Michael Lee Best. And, according to the Bastard Son himself, this match is being contested for the HOW HOFC Championship… unsanctioned.

“The Means War” by Avenged Sevenfold plays through the arena as we see Steve Solex make his way out onto the stage, ignoring the crowd for the most part as he makes his way down the ramp to the ring.

Bryan McVay: The following match is scheduled for one fall, for the UNSANCTIONED HOW HOFC CHAMPIONSHIPPPPP… making his way to the ring, the unnoficial challenger, from Huntington Beach, California and weighing in at 269 pounds… Steve Solex!!!!

Joe Hoffman: Good to see Solex back here in HOW… though I’m sure he would rather it under different terms than facing off against Mike Best.

Benny Newell: He’s getting a shot at the HOFC Title in his return match Joe!  Because Mike is a fighting champion. Totally equal to his brother Max Kael and only slightly inferior to beautiful boy Cecilworth M. J. Farthington!

Solex, a former rival of Mike Best, stares a hole through his opponent until Rick Stevens calls for the bell to start the match.  Mike Goes to lock up with Solex but he’s caught off guard by a quick drop kick that sends Mike reeling back. He tries to shake it off but before he can Solex drives Mike hard into the corner.  Solex unloads with a combo of body and face shots as Mike tries to cover up as much as he can.

Rick pulls on Solex, trying to get him off Mike which gives just enough of an opening for Mike to counter with a shot of his own.  But Solex ducks the punch and it lands square on Rick’s jaw. Mike has no cares for the referee as he tries to throw another shot at Mike but instead catches a spinning back elbow from Solex that sends Mike thew the ropes and to the outside.

Benny Newell: Solex should be DQed!  He let Mike punch the referee!

Joe Hoffman: That logic is fallible on so many levels… but Mike is now crumpled outside the ring and Solex going right back after the unsanctioned HOFC champion.

Throwing the ring apron up we see Solex pull out a trash can with a couple kendo sticks in it.  He takes a kendo stick out and hits it hard on the apron to make sure it’s the real deal before swinging for the back of Mike Best.

 

CRACK!

 

CRACK!

 

CRACK!

 

Joe Hoffman: This may not be a No DQ match… but with Rick Stevens out cold… I guess anything goes.

Benny Newell: Welcome to wrestling Joe.

The welts start forming instantly as Mike winces in pain from each shot as Mike tries to stagger away from Solex.  But Solex grabs Mike by the arm and spins him around as Mike throws a wild punch which again Solex ducks and whacks Mike in the abs with the stick before tossing it away.

Joe Hoffman: Front face lock up Solex… SolexPlex?

That is exactly what Solex has on his mind as he hooks MIke leg and hits the finisher…

Joe Hoffman: On the trash can!  SolexPlex on the trash can!!! Could that be it?

Benny Newell: They aren’t in the ring and Stevens is out colder than a Cosby date.

Joe Hoffman: Geez Benny…

Solex knows all this though as he doesn’t even try for a pin and instead sets his sights on Mike’s titles at ringside.  He grabs the HOFC Title as he stares at the dried blood on the glistening gold and smiles as stalks Mike who starts to pull himself up from the mangled mess of the trash can.

Joe Hoffman: Solex looking to give Mike Best a dish of his medicine…

Benny Newell: Come on Rick! Get your glass jaw ass up!

Using the ring apron to get back up to one knee, Solex rounds the corner of the ring and goes to blast Mike in the head with the unsanctioned HOFC title….

 

CRACK!!!

 

Solex didn’t see Mike picking up the kendo stick and cracks it across his skull as Solex drops the HOFC title on the floor as blood starts to run down the forehead of Solex.  Then not slacking on the change of momentum, Mike grabs Solex’s head and snaps a DDT off straight down onto the fallen LSD Title. Mike rolls over onto his back, clearly having just used a lot to counter Solex there as we finally see Rick Stevens start to stir in the ring.

Joe Hoffman: Solex went to take Mike’s head off and…

Benny Newell: He was strucken down by the fucking all mighty ChristPlow!

Using the ring apron to pull himself back to his feet, Mike pulls what is left of Solex up to his feet and rolls him in the ring as Rick tries to shake the cobwebs outta his head as Mike goes for the cover.

 

ONE………

 

TWO……………..

 

THREE………………….

 

Benny Newell: And still your…

Joe Hoffman: Shoulder up by Solex!  Unlike Hanson’s last week this one wasn’t late!

Mike grabs his head as he thought that was it, but he gets back to his feet, pulling Solex up with him and whipping him into the corner.

Benny Newell: I think someone needs a hero Joe!

Mike hits his knee before taking off toward the corner and looking for the big knee strike but Solex comes out of the corner and  catches Mike, driving him back to the ring canvas with a thunderous spinebuster.

Joe Hoffman: I Kneed A Hero reversed!  Solex back on the offensive.

Solex back to his feet starts stomping away at the head of Mike Best, over and over as he yells out and drops a knee across the throat of Mike Best.

Benny Newell: He can’t do that!  He can’t silence Mike Best!

Joe Hoffman: The man still has ten fingers Benny… I doubt that will happen.

Solex pulls Mike back up to his feet and throws him into the ropes and Solex hits a hard clothesline as Mike stumbles back up to his feet outta instinct and right into a boot to the gut from Solex and…

Joe Hoffman: Solexecution!  Solex with the stunner and now the cover…

Benny Newell: We can’t have a new HOFC champion!!!!

 

ONE……………

 

TWO…………………….

 

THREE……………………….

 

Joe Hoffman: Late shoulder up by…

Benny Newell: FUCK NO!

Rick Stevens throws up two fingers as the crowd gasps and Solex pounds the mat.

Joe Hoffman: How Mike Best beat the three I have no idea… but this match continues!

Solex goes to pull Mike back up to his feet but Mike reaches out and grabs Solex head and pulls him down and rolls up him for a cover as he hooks the leg.

Joe Hoffman: Roll up by Mike!

ONE……

 

TWO……………….

 

THREE…………………………..

 

DING DING DING!!!!

 

Solex just power out of the cover as the bell ring and Mike out of the ring, collapsing to one knee as he reaches out for his titles belts while his music starts to play.

Bryan McVay: The winner of this match and still the unsanctioned HOFC Champion… Mike Best!!!!

Benny Newell: MIke retains!!! Mike retains!!!

Joe Hoffman: By the skin of his teeth, but yes Benny, Mike wins and he still can claim to be the HOFC Champion.  Solex put up a hell of a fight… more than most expected… and that will certainly open some eyes here in HOW.

Solex remains in the ring, shaking his head as he came so close as he watches Mike Best stumble back up the ramp, keeping his eyes on Solex as he raises the HOFC and CWF Championships in the air as we cut away to the HOV as it comes to life.


The graphic gives way to a closeup of a nice oak desk with a name plate sitting on it that says Mike Best.  It is quickly grabbed by one of the production crew members and it is replaced with a new one.

SCOTT WOODSON

The camera zooms out and we see the new 49% Owner of HOW sitting behind said desk.  His iconic red dreads are pulled back and he is wearing a black sports jacket with a small anarchy symbol on the breast pocket.  His hands taped up from his “wounds” two weeks ago.

Scott Woodson: Two weeks ago at the Rumble at the Rock 9 bonus match on Refueled Nine… Scott Stevens was then better man as The Scorpion beat The Hardcore Artist.  It was everything I hoped the match would be as I saw The Scorpion that I knew was still deep down inside of Scott Stevens. For his huge victory… I have something very special in store for Scott Stevens when he returns next week.

Reaching out he grabs a glass sitting on a coaster and takes a drink of water as you can tell, even with the Best medical treatment in California over the past two week, Mr. Woodson is still in pain.

Scott Woodson: As for this new era of HOW, there are many things that need to be addressed in the coming weeks leading to ICONIC.  Such as who will be competing for the LSD Title… and the gimmick that will go with that match that will not cause my office a headache with paperwork.  Paperwork that will be handled by a man who has been given a promotion here in HOW from his starting job of cameraman… my son… Franklin Woodson.

Walking into the shot we see Scott’s son, Franklin with his dreads also pulled back and wearing a bright yellow suit which we can still see some of the bandages on his neck from the attack by Scott Stevens weeks ago.

Franklin Woodson: That you Scott, yes I will handle all the paperwork that comes through the office for both HOW and HOTv such as allowing The eMpire to appear over on CWF’s HOTv debut, their Genesis pay per view.  Or dealing with sponsors and our insurance companies after Mike Best tries to murder another HOW wrestler in a match.

Scott Woodson: Speaking of Mike, he did a great job with this job when he held it… but as he said, his heart wasn’t in it.  He belongs in that ring and over the past few weeks I can see it was one hundred percent the right decision for all parties involved.  But my office will be run very differently from how Mike ran it… and I will ensure that people from within like Max Kael… or those outside can never kill The Machine.

Scott pats his son on the back as Franklin drops off what seems to be a new HOW contract that is signed in crayon before walking back out of the shot.

Scott Woodson: Which speaking of my office… I have officially fired those running my Twitter the past two week and I will be taking back control of it as of tonight.  I will bring respect and honor back to the Twittersphere that has… been a mess to say the least over the past few months in HOW. Plus we need a balance on there with Mike back to… well doing what Mike does on Twitter.

Scotty chuckles and shakes his head as if to say “Oh that Mike Best” before he takes another sip of his water.

Scott Woodson: But anyhow, enjoy the rest of the show everyone, I have been Scott Woodson, your new 49% Owner of HOW and we’ll see you in two weeks for Refueled Eleven.  I can’t wait!

A large smile consume the face of Scott Woodson as the camera fades out to a HOW logo as we cut to commercial.


Back live and HOTv slips into darkness as the sound of marching and booming patriotic music of a North Korean variety take over the audio. Slowly the image melts into what appears to be the back of the bald Maximillian Wilhelm Kael while wearing his North Kaelrean uniform flanked on either side by what appear to be soldiers. The LSD title is slung over his back so the camera can see the jovial face of Kim Il-sung, first Dear Leader of North Korea.

Max Kael: This message was recorded using the technology I have stolen from Brenton Cross. I traveled here at the beginning of the show to cut this promo so I could get ready for my LSD Championship Match against my stupid faced puppet Darin Zion.. but when I am isn’t as important as.. Where.. I am.

He snaps his fingers as the soldiers charge ahead of him as he saunters slowly forward. The camera pans up slowly as we see the Best Arena over in Chicago. A large semi-truck charges forward as the soldiers quickly move to it while the camera angle turns to the front of Max whose face is stretched into a jovial grin. The LSD Championship is pulled down over his shoulder where he wraps his arms around it as his blue eye stares down into the camera.

Max Kael: I know things must be very exciting over there in Arlington.. Or.. Bismarck or where-ever we’re at.. But here? The invasion begins here in Chicago.. Even now my men are constructing my forward base camp, claiming this small piece of the parking lot!

Max begins to stroll through the soldiers who have begun constructing what looks to be a camp in the back corner lot of the Best Arena. The pavement there seems duller than the rest of the lot with strange markings over it like a foundation of some sort had to have been there before. The Lord Supreme Dictator turns to stare at the Best Arena.

Max Kael: High Octane Wrestling is going to die.. And when it does I’ll return to North Korea never to be seen again..

His expression darkens slightly, not out of a grim determination or in any chilling manner, more a stark realization that he will NEVER return if HOW Dies. 

Max Kael: Never be seen again.. So.. So it’s a good thing that HOW is very strong and I am very patient. It won’t be tonight.. It won’t been next week. But I will destroy HOW and this camp is the front line in that quest!.. See in High Octane Wrestling.. They won’t let me sit in the ring and tell you all the truth! So..heh-heh..

He turns as the framework of a ring, one that looks menacing and with a chrome metallic sheen. The ropes are the colors of the North Korean flag at the mat a #97 Red with Max’s grinning, metal toothed face in the center. 

Max Kael: ..I’ll make my own. Prepare for the final battle High Octane Wrestling.. Your Lord Supreme Dictator is coming.. Also a reminder I am using stolen Brenton Cross time travel technology, I’m also still out there in Luxembourg or.. Rosemont? Anyway..

Max flashes another shark toothed smile at the camera and winks, or also potentially blinks.

Max Kael: I’m Maximillian Wilhelm Kael, First of my Name!

The soldiers diligently working all answer in unison like well trained devotees.

Soldiers: LONG MAY HE MAIM!

With that we cut back live to the arena as its time for our next match…


As we cut back to ringside we see the Hall of Fame duo of Joe Hoffman and Benny Newell ready to call the action.

Joe Hoffman: Up next ladies and gentlemen, Max Kael will…..

Benny Newell: LORD SUPREME DICTATOR!

Joe Hoffman: (sigh) Lord Supreme Dictator, Max Kael, will defend his LSD Championship against number one contender, Darin Zion.

Benny Newell: You mean that coward, Darin Pussy?

The lights in the arena turn off as the opening to “Bow Down” by I Prevail blares across the speakers. After a few seconds the name “Darin Zion” flashes across the screen, and usually this is where Zion would normally come out, but he doesn’t.

Benny Newell: Where the fuck is this Hoffman?

Joe Hoffman: No clue Benny.

Benny Newell: This idiot had the balls to sneak attack our Lord Supreme Dictator, but he can’t show up here tonight?!?!?!?

“Bow Down” by I Prevail begins to play again, but still nothing.

Joe Hoffman: Looks like something may have happened to Darin Zion.

Benny Newell: Hope he slipped and broke his leg.

Joe Hoffman: Well, the show must go on.

V/O: HAIL KAEL!

V/O: HAIL KAEL!

V/O: FIRST OF HIS NAME! LONG MAY HE MAIM!

Is heard throughout the arena as “Witch Doctor” De Staat begins while the lights dim in the arena. Lights above the ring shine down to create a #970000 twisted, one eyed smiley face. The stage flashes with alternating red and blue lights as Max Kael is carried out upon his steel chair throne by only the purest and buffest of North Kaelreans to the stage.

Benny Newell: HAIL KAEL! DRINK!

Max is immediately flanked by a series of small North Kaelrean dancers who waves banners with Max Kael’s face on it while #970000 red glitter falls from the ceiling. Max drinks in his own hype as he lifts his arms, smiling widely as he slowly is brought towards the ring. As he does so he sticks as close to the center of his throne as possible to avoid being touched by the fans that line the ramp. The Mighty North Kaelreans slowly place the throne of Kael, first of his name, on top of the ring steps and Max wipes his feet off on the edge of the ring, his smile never leaving his face before entering. Slinking toward the center of the ring Max, bathed in the red smiley face, lifts his hands high into the air as he is bathed in the sinister red light of the smiley face. The music dies as the house lights return signaling Max to his corner to prepare for his match.

Benny Newell: Max is going to win by forfeit.

Max heads over to Bryan McVay and tells him something causing the ring announcer to give the LSD champion a confused look, but he reassures him.

Bryan McVay: Ladies and gentlemen, Our Lord Supreme Dictator, Max Kael, FIRST of his Name……

Crowd: LONG MAY HE MAIM!

The crowd shouts.

Bryan McVay: Long may he maim has just informed me he wants everyone in this arena to turn they watches, cell phones, tablets, and any other electronic device back five minutes.

Joe Hoffman: What is that going to do?

Benny Newell: Shut the fuck up Hoffman and just do what your Lord Supreme says! If you had a clue you’d know what he’s doing.

Joe Hoffman: Which is?

Benny Newell: Conjuring up the power of Skynet!

“Bow Down” by I Prevail begins to play again and a sinister grin forms on the champion, but as Max is focused on the entrance ramp, Darin Zion hops over the barricade and slides into the with steel pipe in hand and attacks Kael from behind.

Benny Newell: What the fuck Hoffman?!?!?!?!?

Joe Hoffman: Looks like Zion outsmarted Max.

Benny Newell: Bullshit Hoffhole! He isn’t Scott Bakula quantum leaping himself backwards and forwards through time!

Zion drills Max with a few more shots of the steel pipe as Hortega calls for the bell.

Ding. Ding.

Joe Hoffman: We are underway ladies and gentlemen in this No Disqualification match for the HOW LSD championship.

Benny Newell: You think Max can let me use his time traveling power to place a bet on this match?

Zion takes the pipe and holds it downwards and drills Max in the face with it before tossing it aside and going for a cover.

 

Uno.

 

Dos.

 

Kickout.

 

Max powers out and before he can get to his feet Zion drills him in the ribs.

Joe Hoffman: Stiff kick to the ribs of the champion by Zion.

Benny Newell: Careful Hoffman.

Joe Hoffman: What?

Benny Newell: Zion has been staying silent because he has something stiff stuck in his throat.

Zion stares down at Max who is slowly spinning his fingers counter clockwise and as if on cue Zion goes for another kick to the ribs, but the Sultan of Quantum Leaping moves out of the way and as Zion turns around gets drilled with Max’s ocular implant.

Joe Hoffman: Brow Beater by Kael.

Benny Newell: LONG MAY HE MAIM!

The shot stumbles Zion back a bit as Max gets to his feet and shakes the cobwebs out. The Paragon of the Squared Circle goes for a spinning forearm smash, but Zion ducks under and as the champion turns gets drilled in his smiling mug with a spinning wheel kick.

Joe Hoffman: The Gaslighter missed it’s marked, but that spin kick didn’t.

The Elegant and Educated uses the momentum that sent him against the ropes to blast forward and nail Zion with a roaring elbow that sends Zion spiraling out of the ring.

Benny Newell: HAIL KAEL!

Benny shouts as he does a salute before taking a shot of Jack. Max slithers his way over to the ropes and looks down at the fallen Zion before sliding under the bottom rope to the outside. The Lovely and Lethal begins to stomp away on Zion’s head and neck before dropping that reinforced #97 red colored knee brace across the back of Zion’s head. The metal teeth of the champion begin to chatter as he slowly smiles as he reaches down to pick up Zion and drives him face first into the nearest ring post.

Benny Newell: KLANG!

Joe Hoffman: I’m surprised Zion isn’t busted open from that.

Benny Newell: Hopefully that ring post improved his looks because he looks uglier that my dog.

The Wise and Wily lets out a cackle as he stalks his prey.

Joe Hoffman: Max smells blood in the water.

Benny Newell: That’s probably remnants of the hooker from last night.

The Righteous and Relentless picks up Zion and whips him into the ring steps.

Benny Newell: HAIL KAEL!

Max begins to salivate as his teeth begin to chatter uncontrollably.

Joe Hoffman: Max Kael showing demonstrating his audition tape for the Chatterer in the next Hellraiser.

Benny Newell: I’d pay to see that.

Max picks up Zion and rolls him inside the ring as he places the bottom ring step on the floor in the center of the entrance ramp before rolling inside the ring himself. The Wise and Wily picks up Zion and brings him towards the ropes. Kael leans Zion against the ropes and steps onto the apron.

Joe Hoffman: What does Kael have in mind here Benny?

Benny Newell: If it involves hurting Zion I don’t care what it is.

Max points towards the ring step behind him and cackles before hooking Zion.

Joe Hoffman: He’s going to suplex him onto that ring step.

Benny Newell: HAIL KAEL!

Max goes to pick up Zion, but he blocks the attempt. Max tries again, but Zion throws a kick to the side of Kael knocking the wind out of him, but it’s only a temporary setback as Max bites the nose of Zion to allow him to pick him into the air and out of the ring.

Joe Hoffman: ZION WITH THE REVERSAL!

Benny Newell: LOOK OUT MAX!

Zion was able to slide down Kael’s back and deliver a powerbomb to the champion onto the ring steps. Zion goes for a cover, but there is no referee.

Benny Newell: This isn’t a falls count anywhere match!!

Zion immediately sees his error and quickly locks in the Rings of Saturn submission.

Joe Hoffman: The Last Laugh by Zion adding more pain to an already hurting Max Kael.

Benny Newell: It’s ironic you called it the Last Laugh Hoffman because it seems Max isn’t fazed by it.

It doesn’t matter how much pressure or how much he wrenches the arm, Max continues to cackle like a hyena instead of yell out in pain.

Joe Hoffman: Max has a tremendous pain tolerance.

Benny Newell: Well when you graduate from the University of North Kaelrea at the top of your class the first thing you learn is Pain and Torture 101.

Joe Hoffman: Was that a class of one Benny?

Benny Newell: Fuck you!

Zion lets go of the submission and heads over to the barricade and shoves a fan out of the way as he steals their seat.

Benny Newell: Zion trying to bring us a lawsuit?!?!?

Zion assaults the body of Max Kael with thunderous shots. The sickening sound of steel against bone echoes throughout the arena. Zion delivers one final blow before tossing the chair into the ring and picking up Max and doing the same. Zion hops onto the apron and motions for Max to get up.

Joe Hoffman: Zion looking for a high impact maneuver to finish of Max once and for all.

Benny Newell: If Halitosis’ breath couldn’t do it Zion has no chance.

Max gets to all fours and reaches into his pocket unbeknown to Zion. Kael pulls himself up and Zion launches himself looking for a flying forearm with determination on his face that he’s going to become the new LSD champion until he sees light glistening off of something golden in the champion’s hand.

Joe Hoffman: THE BEST PUNCH! THE BEST PUNCH!

Benny Newell: HA! I THINK I SAW A TOOTH FLY OUT!

Max drills Zion with a right hand that has been upgraded with brass knuckles. The champion quickly grabs Zion and lifts him slightly into the air before dumping him on his head.

Joe Hoffman: MAXIMUM KAELNAGE! THAT’S GOTTA BE IT!

 

Uno.

 

Dos.

 

Tres.

 

Benny Newell: GET FUCKED ZION!

Hortega signals for the bell.

Bryan McVay: And winner by pinfall, AND STILL! L-S-D CHAMPION! Our Lord Supreme Dictator, MAX! KAAAAAAAAAAEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLL!, FIRST of HIS NAME……

Crowd: LONG MAY HE MAIM!

The crowd shouts.

Hortega goes to hand Max his title, but he snatches it from the official and hugs it tightly.

Joe Hoffman: Hard fought victory by Max here tonight.

Benny Newell: Hard fought?!?!?! Please, he hardly broke a sweat.

As Max continues to clutch his championship the screen slowly shifts to the HOV which comes to life….


The arena goes to a complete blackout. The sound.. the sound of a radio trying to find its frequency. In doing so, the channel skipping picks up other frequencies in the process.

FEMALE REPORT: Another young female body found..

Frequency break.

MALE REPORTER: The village of Diwan..

Frequency break.

FEMALE REPORT: Bound by her wrists and ankles..

Frequency break.

FEMALE: Please Sophie, come home. We’re all so worried..

Frequency break.

MALE REPORTER: Reports suggest, also a necrophiliac..

Increasingly loud screeching. It cuts right through you.

And then…………… nothing. Only the crowd popping as they are truly bewildered as to what is happening here.

The sound of softened banjo’s filtrates the speakers softly. Over and over. What the hell is going on here?!

VOICE: Up here you numskulls.

And there he is.. “The Diwan Forest Killer” himself, Buck Yates, up on High Octane Vision.

BUCK YATES: I mean, who were you expecting HOW.. fackin’ Rudolf?

Buck looks deep into the souls of everyone viewing High Octane Vision. From the capacity crowd in the arena to the fans watching at home. It’s a little bizarre as Buck remains unflinching.

He lets out a socially awkward laugh.

The lights in the All State Arena immediately crash back on and the view of Buck Yates disappears from High Octane Vision as we cut elsewhere…


The camera pans out into the crowd zooms in on Section 102 of the Allstate Arena and in particular Row A.  There’s a familiar blonde face occupying Seat 14- HOW’s intrepid backstage interviewer Blaire Moise.

Blaire Moise: Blaire Moise here with the former, two time, High Octane Wrestling champion Halitosis – aka…’Ordinary’ Joe Bergman.

The camera moves back to bring Bergman – sitting in Seat 15 – into the shot.

Joe Bergman: You can just call me Joe, Blaire.

Blaire Moise: Okay.  Joe Bergman.

Joe Bergman: Hi Blaire.  Welcome back.

Blaire Moise: It’s good to be back Joe.  Welcome back to you.

Joe Bergman: Thank you Blaire.

Blaire Moise: This is the first time you’ve been back in HOW since the War Games match.

Joe Bergman: Right.  Yeah, I got beat up pretty good in the Infirmary match so I took some time off after War Games to rest up and heal a little bit.

Blaire Moise: So what brings you up here tonight?

Joe Bergman: Because Blaire, these are the people I relate to.  Ordinary people living their ordinary lives and doing whatever they do for a living coming to this building to watch us perform tonight.  My occupation just happens to be a professional wrestler.  Stan over here, he’s a factory worker here with a bunch of friends tonight-

Stan and friends, who are occupying a significant part of the Section 102, raise their beers/drinks/et al… in the air and make a lot of noise.

Joe Bergman: Larry back behind us.  He and a bunch of his friends drove up here all the way from Southern Illinois to see the show.

Larry and friends all stand up and make lots of noise.

Joe Bergman: And these knuckleheads over there.

Joe points to the college age group to his right.  They are partying hard after finals week and one of them has snuck in a bottle of Jack Daniels into the arena.  That is, until the bottle slips out of one of the college student’s hands and smashes on the floor.

Somewhere, Benny Newell is shocked and aghast at the waste of a perfectly good bottle of Jack.

Joe Bergman: These are the people I wrestled for and will continue to wrestle for.  I don’t wrestle for an Industry nor do I have an entire industry behind me.  I don’t wrestle for an empire and I sure as hell don’t have an empire backing me up.  I wrestle for the people.  I know they’ve got my back.  We gave it our best shot at War Games.   I gave it everything I had.  Unfortunately, we didn’t get the job done.

Blaire Moise: As you reflect back on your title reign, do you have any regrets at all?

Joe Bergman: Nope.  Some people said I lucked my way into the title…twice.   They may be right.  I say I was lucky and privileged to win the High Octane Wrestling World Championship not once, but two times and be the World Champion for a total of two months.  I knew going into the match at War Games with Dan Ryan and Cecilworth that I was the two star wrestler trying to compete with a couple of superstars in the biggest match on the show and…

Bergman shrugs.

Joe Bergman: …again, I just couldn’t get the job done.  Ryan and Farthington are that good and I would have had to wrestle out of my mind to pull off the huge upset.  So, it’s done and in the past.  I’m not going to dwell on it.  I’m not going to wonder what went wrong.  I’m just going to move on – start over – and work my way back up from the bottom again and see where it takes me.

Blaire Moise: Will E.J. Flack also return as your manager?

Joe Bergman: No.  Um…E.J.’s first priority is always going to be working for the Missouri Valley Wrestling Women’s Champion Sheline Carrigan.  His involvement at War Games was to get me ready for the match.

Blaire Moise: And Halitosis and the whole bad breath gimmick.

Joe Bergman: Done.  Benny Newell can put his Haz-Mat suit back in storage.  I will be wrestling as ‘Ordinary’ Joe Bergman going forward.

Blaire Moise: When are you coming back?

Joe Bergman: Soon Blaire.  Real soon.

Blaire Moise: All right then.  Thanks Joe for your time.

Joe Bergman: Thank you Blaire.

Blaire turns to the camera.

Blaire Moise: I’ve been talking to ‘Ordinary’ Joe Bergman who’ll be returning to HOW soon.  From Section 102 of the Allstate Arena, I’m Blaire Moise.  We cut to our final commercial break.


World Championship Match
Cecilworth Farthington© vs. Dan Ryan

LSD Championship Match
Max Kael© vs. High Flyer


Joe Hoffman: Live from Refueled X, it’s time for the main event of the evening, where for the second match in a row, Cecilworth Farthington will defend one of his singles championships against a member of the Industry. Tonight, it’s Jack Harmen… and this match is for the HOW World Championship!

Benny Newell: This is a bunch of bullshit, Joe. My beautiful boy shouldn’t be forced to defend these fuckin’ belts week after week, especially with a goddamned ninety seven minute ironman match coming up next month. The fix is in! I blame Scottywood for this somehow.

Joe Hoffman: This is the life of a champion, Benny, and Cecilworth Farthington has to shoulder the responsibility of two championships if he wants to reap the rewards.

Benny Newell: Blah blah blah with great power comes great go fuck yourself, Uncle Ben. What the fuck has Jack Harmen done to deserve a shot at the World Title? He’s already got a shot at the LSD Championship coming at ICONIC! What does he want, a chance to hold TWO FUCKING BELTS? How greedy. How selfish. How… how…

Joe Hoffman: …are… are you baiting me right now? I can’t even tell…

“All Abooooooooooard! AH HA HA HA HA HA HA HA…”

A light fog rises up from the entrance way as the opening guitar riff kicks in. You know the riff. You’re listening to it in your head right now. Parting the smoke is High Flyer, who stands confidently at the top of the entrance ramp… wearing an actual fucking straightjacket. He’s forced to forgo his usual devil horn taunt, instead just smiling slyly to the camera. He stomps his way to the ring, paying very little attention to the crowd.

Joe Hoffman: Folks, Jack Harmen is here and I… I actually can’t believe it! The madman has actually done it! He’s worn an actual straightjacket to the ring!

Benny Newell: Say “actual” again, dickhead. What a moron Harmen is. He didn’t stand a chance against Cecilworth from the moment this was booked, and now he’s gonna literally handicap himself before the bell has even rung? Cecilworth is gonna break his fucking arm and I’m gonna laugh my ass off.

Once he reaches ringside, Jack slips in under the bottom rope, then rolls to his feet. As the announcer introduces High Flyer, he leaps using only his legs onto the second rope, showing off his athleticism as he looks out to the crowd.

Joe Hoffman: How, Benny? How is the champion supposed to break Jack Harmen’s arm here tonight? He’s in an actual straightjacket. Cecilworth Farthington has won his last three championship matches by injuring the arms of his opponents, and Jack Harmen’s offense is sustainable without the use of his arms. This… this might actually work, Benny.

Benny Newell: Hey wait a second. This is bullshit. That’s a foreign object. DISQUALIFY HIM, BOETTCHER, HE’S FUCKING CHEATING!

“Sledgehammer” by Peter Gabriel begins to blast its funky beats over the sound system, sassy horns and synth beckoning forth the arrival of the HOW World and ICON Champion, Cecilworth M. Jamelia Farthington. The man who would’ve been Lord Farthington steps confidently out from behind the curtain, looking absolutely ridiculous– while his eyes are cold and focused, he has a literal fucking sword strapped to his chest.

A literal sword.

Farthington unsheathes the sword from the scabbard on his chest, eyeing it closely as it glistens under the stage lights. He points to sword promptly toward the ring, making eye contact with Jack Harmen as he begins to slowly descend the ramp, one title over each shoulder.

Benny Newell: Look at this regal motherfucker, ladies and gentlemen. Cecilworth Motherfucking Jamelia Farthington– that’s what the goddamned M stands for tonight. This man is a champion. A blue blood. A hero to millions, and dare I say it, an actual fucking knight. Sir Cecilworth Farthington, and there’s his fucking sword!

Joe Hoffman: The champion has certainly been nearly unstoppable in 2019, Benny… but weren’t you just calling for Jack Harmen to be disqualified for wearing a straight jacket? How are you okay with a sword?

Benny Newell: It’s for SELF FUCKING DEFENSE, obviously. Jack Harmen threatened to stab him, multiple times, on social media. Actual stabbing, Joe. You love the word actual so much? ACTUAL REAL LIFE STABBING WITH A KNIFE. Well Cecilworth is smart– he brought a sword to a knife fight, and everyone knows that size matters.

Cecilworth sheathes the sword, quite intent on bringing it into the ring, but Matt Boettcher stops him at the apron and tells him to leave them behind. The champion gives some version of a protest, but quickly decides that this isn’t the hill he’s ready to die on. He drops the sword at ringside, climbing into the ring and handing his belts away to the senior HOW official.

Boettcher holds the World Championship aloft before handing both belts off to Bryan McVay.

Before the match as even started, Cecilworth steps to Jack Harmen and gets in his face, probably calling him poor or stupid or some variation of the two. Harmen responds with a swift headbutt to the World Champion, who staggers backward, holding his lip and wiping away at the faintest amount of blood! The crowd roars, as Boettcher gets between the two and struggles to pull them apart.

Joe Hoffman: WHOA! Jack Harmen has always been a wildcard, but he’s firing on all cylinders and this match hasn’t officially even begun yet! That was a nasty looking headbutt.

Benny Newell: What a cheap shot. What a vicious, vile, disgusting cheater. If I was Matt Boettcher, I’d call this thing off right now. Match cancelled. Cecilworth retains by referee stoppage due to headbutts agogo!

Joe Hoffman: …agogo?

Benny Newell: Agogo fuck yourself, Joe. I’m angry.

Farthington is seething, gesturing and yelling at Boettcher to check Harmen for knives and weapons hidden within his straight jacket. Boettcher realizes that this is a good point, and does a cursory check of the challenger for any contraband. Farthington is telling directions at him, now, loud enough for everyone to hear.

CMF: Check the straps! I have it on good authority that he’s hidden knives in the straps! I will not be murdered, Matthew! I am not a future murder victim!

Rolling his eyes, Boettcher pulls on the straps, checking to see that they are real. Cecilworth smiles as he realized that this is a totes legit straight jacket, which was ultimately the entire purpose in having it inspected in the first place.

In the interest of fairness, Boettcher checks over the trunks, pads and boots of the champion, ensuring that he hasn’t brought anything else with him to the ring. Once he’s sure that everything is on the up and up, he rings the bell and officially begins the main event.

DING DING DING

Cecilworth Farthington steps up to the center of the ring, still looking angry about having been butted in the head with an aptly named attack. Harmen steps up as well, not looking intimidated in the slightest– Farthington grins sarcastically, putting his arm up and inviting High Flyer to a test of strength.

The crowd, unsurprisingly, boos.

Joe Hoffman: I think the champion is trying to prove a point here, Benny, but I don’t know that it’s a point that will make a difference in this match.

Benny Newell: HERE IS YOUR WINNER BY TEST OF STRENGTH FORFEIT. Book it Boettcher, you goddamned clown, USE YOUR EYES.

Harmen looks up at CMF’s outstretched hand, his eyes nearly rolling out of his head, but it appears that this was nothing but a nefarious trick– Farthington takes his alternate open hand, and slaps Harmen directly in the side of the head, knocking him sideways.

The crowd, unsurprisingly, boos harder.

Harmen grits his teeth, shaking it off and charging into the champion, but Farthington sidesteps the attack and grabs a side headlock, grinning from ear to ear and tightening his grip around the head of the challenger.

Joe Hoffman: Headlocks don’t win matches, but they’ll tire a man out, and Jack Harmen is going to need a hell of a lot of stamina to sustain an offense tonight without the use of his arms.

Benny Newell: Then maybe he should take off that straightjacket and lose the use of his arms the old fashioned way– THE CECIOPATH WAY.

High Flyer, who has never had to escape a headlock before without use of an elbow, violently thrashes to get free, like a shark trapped in a net. Farthington answers by clamping the hold down harder, wrenching the neck and trying to further wear down his opponent before he can build up any steam.

Suddenly, Harmen lets his entire body go limp– it’s very dangerous, but his gambit works as it takes the champion by surprise! The sudden change in weight makes him lose his grip, and Harmen stumbles down onto his ass, popping back up to his feet and backing up into the ropes! CMF barely has time to turn around, and when he does, we walks right into a running cross body block from Jack Harmen!

He rolls off the champion, bouncing off the other rope as Farthington quickly scrambles back to his feet. But as fast as CMF can stand up, he eats another crossbody from the other direction! The house is on fire, motherfucker!

Joe Hoffman: WHOA! High Flyer living up to his name!

Benny Newell: Come on, it was like five feet off the ground. Wake me up when he gets some real height on–

Before Benny can even finish discrediting the athletic maneuvers, Jack Harmen runs toward the corner, blindly springboarding from the second rope to the top turnbuckle, and sails through the air with a no-look shooting star press toward the fallen body of Cecilworth Farthington! It’s fucking flawless, and the reaction in the arena couldn’t be louder!

AND HE CONNECTS!

The momentum has shifted, but the literal momentum of the move sends Harmen bouncing off his opponent and rolling to the side. It’s harder than he expects to make it to Cecilworth for the cover, but he throws his body onto the champion and makes the pin.

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

KICKOUT!

 

Joe Hoffman: We almost had a new champion!

Benny Newell: Yeah, and I ALMOST accidentally had sex with a man once, but I’m not gay and Harmen isn’t the champion.

High Flyer looks more than frustrated, clearly seeing the first opportunity missed due to his chosen attire. He shakes it off, though, and quickly kips up to his feet, getting another rise out of the crowd!

The champion rolls toward the ropes, tending to a scratch on his chest from the buckle of the straightjacket. A trickle of blood flows down his chest, and he immediately gets to his feet, showing it to Matt Boettcher and demanding street justice for what has been done to him.

Boettcher enters into the argument with Farthington, explaining that he doesn’t know what street justice is as Harmen stands in the corner wishing he could shrug his shoulders in frustration.

Benny Newell: You mess with the bull, you get the horns, Joe.

Joe Hoffman: What?

Benny Newell: I’m just saying. Somehow, this is a DQ. Farthington retains.

Finally losing his patience, Harmen yells “DUCK!” and instinctively, Matt Boettcher gets down on his hands and knees to get out of the way. In tandem, High Flyer rushes forward, literally stepping off the fucking back of the referee and nailing a flying Yakuza kick to the face of Cecilworth Farthington! THE CROWD IS ON THEIR FUCKING FEET!

Joe Hoffman: THE LOCOMOTIVE! OH MY FREAKING GOD THE LOCOMOTIVE!

Benny Newell: YOU CAN’T JUMP OFF THE REFEREE THAT IS CLEARLY A DQ WHAT IN THE ACTUAL FUCK DISQUALIFY HARMEN AND YOURSELF BOETTCHER YOU STUPID TIT!

Harmen lands on his feet, his eyes wide as he’s almost in shock that it worked. Immediately, he drops to make the cover, and the crowd counts along!!!

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

THREE!

 

THREE?

 

WHERE THE FUCK IS THE THREE?

 

The resounding cheers in the arena immediately turn to murder level boos, as Matt Boettcher is yanked out of the ring before his hand can slap the mat for a third time. His assailant should surprise no one.

Michael Lee Best.

The Unsanctioned HOFC Champion begins yelling at Boettcher, grabbing him by the front of the shirt. Boettcher starts yelling about a disqualification, which doesn’t seem to bother Michael Best one bit. He dares the senior referee to issue a disqualification, still holding him by the front of the shirt in direct defiance of orders to do otherwise.

Joe Hoffman: I can’t believe this. What an absolute travesty. Jack Harmen is the HOW World Champion.

Benny Newell: I’m literally watching live evidence that you’re wrong, but cool.

The booing only intensifies, as the exact expected thing happens next– Max Kael crawls out from under the ring on the other side, picking up Cecilworth’s sword and sliding into the ring with both the knightly weapon and the LSD Championship. Jack Harmen turns around and sees Max coming, charging after him… but alas, he has no arms.

*THWACK*

The LSD Championship makes solid collision with the unprotected skull of Jack Harmen, knocking him clean out cold in the center of the ring. Garbage begins to litter the canvas as Max picks up the sword, pulling it from the scabbard and using it to quickly, sloppily, but effectively begin to cut open the straight jacket and free the arms of High Flyer.

Joe Hoffman: Disgusting. How can they keep getting away with this? Won’t someone do something?

Benny Newell: What are you talking about? He’s cutting the straight jacket OFF! He’s HELPING!

Joe Hoffman: WAIT! HERE COMES THE INDUSTRY!

At the top of the ramp, Dan Ryan and Lindsay Troy begin making their way down to the ring, trying to put a stop to the screwjob before the fix is in. They sprint for the ring, before they can get inside, Michael Lee Best tries to cut them off at the pass!

Matt Boettcher gets between the Industry and Michael Best, trying to eject them all from ringside and end the madness. Unfortunately, his back is still to the ring as Max Kael wakes Cecilworth up, shaking him vigorously and pointing him toward the fallen High Flyer. The booing reaches a fever pitch.

Joe Hoffman: This is actual garbage. This match barely even got started.

Benny Newell: The champ finishes them quickly, what can I say?

Lindsay Troy is literally screaming at Boettcher to turn around, but by the time he listens, Max Kael has rolled out of the ring with the sword in hand. All that Boettcher sees is Cecilworth grabbing hold of the now exposed arm of Jack Harmen.

And locking in the Article 50.

Boettcher slides into the ring, realizing that Harmen is out cold. He checks on the challenger, not wanting to see his arm snapped as he calls for the bell.

DING DING DING

Garbage covers the ringside, as Michael Best slides into the ring on one end, and Max Kael on the other. The three champions celebrate as though Farthington has just won the SuperBowl, as he releases the hold and stands to be with his friends.

Nay, his brothers.

Bryan McVay: Here is your winner, and STILL HOW WORLD CHAMPION… Cecilworth… Emmm… Jayyyy…. FAAAAAAARTHINGTONNNNNN!!!!

The celebration is short lived. A meat fist connects with the side of Cecilworth Farthington’s head, sending the champion down like a sack of potatoes. Best and Kael turn around to see Dan Ryan and Lindsay Troy already in the ring, and it looks as though the brawl is finally on! Security rushes into the ring, trying to separate the chaos and keep it from happening, as the crowd boos louder and louder at the segregation occurring in the ring.

But then, the booing stops.

UNDEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAD.


The Chicago crowd stands as one as EVERYONE’s attention turns towards the entrance ramp where the unmistakable theme song for Lee Best has just kicked on thru the arena’s PA system.

The crowd erupts as the GOD of HOW makes his way out from the back and stops at the top of the ramp with microphone in hand.

The action around ringside comes to a stop as Ryan and Troy turn around in the ring to face the man that signed them to High Octane Wrestling.

Outside the ring, we see Max and Michael helping Farthington up to his feet while staring up at the HOV to get a better view of what is going on.

Lee Best: ENOUGH…….there will be none of this bullshit before ICONIC. The match is over and I swear to GOD that if anyone touches anyone outside the confines of a match…..I will strip that stable of ALL their belts and I will book your flights to Utah myself.

The camera zooms in to catch even the Son smirking after hearing what the Father just said.

Lee Best: Look I get it…….I am all about violence and settling some scores…….next week four of you will get that chance in a Tag Team Title match……..but again……any bullshit outside of the ring……..and BOOM……we will have some belts vacated.

Lee pauses as he calms himself down.

Back in the ring, we see Troy and Ryan helping Harmen to his feet, careful of his arm.

Lee Best: But that is not the main reason I am out here. No….no….no. You see tis the season to be giving and quite frankly it’s been awhile since I GAVE anything on air to the fine folks here in High Octane Wrestling and what better place to do it than in my hometown of Chicago………

The crowd pops for the hometown mention and chants of STARR STARR STARR begin.

Lee pauses and takes in the chants….smiling ear to ear….finally he lifts his hand in the air and the crowd quiets before he continues.

Lee Best: Look, since the last time I was out here, a TON of shit has happened and as great as a job as my Son and Scott Woodson have done…..let us be honest…..we lost quite a few people. When I got back to the office fully it was upon me to get the roster beefed back up and there is only ONE MAN that I reach out to first and foremost and this man that I am about to introduce will be not only coming back …..well shit let me just him tell you.

Benny Newell: LETS FUCKING GO!!!!!!

Lee turns towards the entrance and the HOV comes to life……..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

However, not with the entrance video and music of one Jatt Starr…..

Instead, the scene cuts to the parking lot. A limo pulls up and the door flies open to show Jatt Starr emerging. As he gets out to the roar of the crowd, a very large man flies into the scene and begins to assault Jatt. Rights and lefts fly as the big man takes Jatt down. He climbs on top of Jatt and begins to slam his head into the pavement.

He gets to his feet and pulls Jatt up. A vicious shot to Jatt’s stomach doubles him over as the man gets Jatt on his shoulders and drives him head and neck first onto the hood of the car……without any Remorse.

We cut to a quick look of absolute shock and awe on the face of Lee Best as he sees his longtime nemesis Chris Kostoff literally destroying the Hall of Famer Jatt Starr.

Back to the HOV and Kostoff pushes Jatt fully onto the car hood as he climbs onto the hood. Security, who flew from ringside and have been running towards the back since the initial footage started, come racing out as Kostoff begins to kick them back.

He laughs and gives them the finger as he gets Jatt up and drives both men down to the pavement with the No Remorse powerbomb. Jatt lays in a pool of blood as the security grab at Kostoff to pull him off of the assault.

He starts pushing his way through the group of security guards as a couple stop him

Security: Come on Big Man…….

Kostoff grins and pats the one on the shoulder.

Kostoff: Merry Christmas assholes…..and ya I will see you next week then Lee…….

He begins to laugh like maniac as he makes his way across the parking lot as the HOV goes black and we cut back live inside the arena where we see Lee Best army crawling off the side of the stage in fear as we fade to black.