MAIN EVENT
Tommy Angel on Guest Commentary
Frankie Cocheese & Chris Williams vs The Shades Of Destruction
Suddenly the familiar sound of coins clanging together accompanied by a cash register ding of Pink Floyd's “Money (Instrumental)” hit the PA system. The crowd boos mercilessly as Tommy Angel slowly emerges from the back wearing a slick armani suit with the MSW Championship fit snuggly around his waist. He slowly begins to walk down the ramp, enjoying the hostile reaction from this MSW crowd.
Gavin Grey: The Following match is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, he is the special guest commentator for this match, he is YOUR MSW Heavyweight Champion... TOMMY ANGEL!
Smith: Shoot me now.
Bradford: I would Old Yeller but that'd be considered animal cruelty! You should feel excited, the Champ is going to grace us with his presence! He is the standard bearer of this company and a fantastic human being to boot.
Smith: Would a fantastic person bully a referee? Would a fantastic person cheat his ass off because he's afraid to be exposed as a fraud? Would a fantastic person go out of his way to laugh at the plight of the downtrodden? No. I know you buy into and say whatever IC3 tells you to but you can't really sit there with a straight face and believe any of this.
Bradford: I can and I do! Money talks Smith!
Tommy Angel makes his way around the ring, stopping as he sees CM and Javen in the front row. Going to a nearby fan he takes their bucket of popcorn and throws handfuls as the two brothers before dumping the bucket right on CM's head to a chorus of booes. Tommy Angel finally makes his way to announce table as he unbuckles the championship and throws it over his shoulder. Bradford gets out of his seat to shake his hand before Tommy Angel takes a seat right next to him, picking up his headset.
Bradford: Pleasure to have you aboard.
Angel: It's good to be here. Thanks for having a seat for me away from Smith.
Smith: Well it's sooo good to see you too.
Angel: You better watch your mouth before I slap your dentures out of your mouth and send you to retirement, Grandpa. You don't think I hear all the trash you say about me, about Mr. Cornelius and First Class? You're lucky I'm a gentleman and don't yank you out of your seat for that; you don't want to be Thunderstruck.
“I See Demons” by Book of Black Earth starts playing. Smoke and red lights cover the arena as the kickass song plays. At 1:20 of the song, The Shades of Destruction come out to the ramp. The crowd starts booing out of fear and hatred, but the Shades of Destruction ignore it as they walk down the ramp. The Shades climb to the apron like Kane and get inside the ring, doing simultaneous Kane taunts inside the ring, causing fire to come out of the ring posts.
Gavin Grey: Introducing first, from the Realm of Shades weighing in at a combined weight of 754lbs, accompanied by The Queen of the Shades they are... THE SHADES OF DESTRUCTION!
Angel: I think these guys are the real deal. Not like Red and Purple, they're too soft; they've become a parody. Red and Purple lack that killer instinct, that eye of the tiger.
Bradford: They do have that killer instinct, I'll agree with that I still think they're usurpers but the Champ has got a point.
Angel: Of course they're usurpers; they want to be the Kings of that Mountain only so they can destroy it. Of course... they'll never succeed with me around but I admire their guts and fortitude.
Smith: Well at least you're not going on about “wrestling miracles” for once.
Angel: The only miracle I see here is the fact I haven't reached over and slapped you silly yet.
Over and Under by Egypt Central hits the PA system as Chris Williams walks out from the back. He slaps several fans hands as he heads to the ring before stopping halfway down the ramp
Gavin Grey: And their opponents, introducing first from Detroit, Michigan, weighing 235lbs... Chris Williams!
The music suddenly cuts off as Chris Williams turns his head as Shook Ones Pt 1 by Mobb Deep blares through the arena. Frankie Cocheese steps out with the black bandanna around his face and he makes his way halfway down the ramp, stopping to look at Chris Williams.
Gavin Grey: And his tag team partner, from The Drama City, Washington D.C. weighing Fat Stacks of Kilos... Young Cochedda the Don... Frankie Cocheese!
Angel: You know they're lucky that either one of them is in consideration for my championship and that Mr. Cornelius is in a giving mood. I mean take Chris Williams for example; I offered him one last chance to join First Class. I even offered to go to bat for him to Mr. Cornelius to get him a PURE 15 Championship match instead and instead he decided to act like the classless neanderthal he is and he practically spit at my generous offer! And Frankie Cocheese? He's admitted to being a thug! Neither of these men represent what the new MSW is all about. Neither man carries themselves like a champion.
Bradford: I completely agree Mr. Angel!
Angel: Please Bradford, call me Tommy. I consider you a friend. I'd call you Alex but I remembered Smith stole your name.
Smith: Get a room you two! The ass kissing is real! Look, you don't have to agree with Frankie's lifestyle but his record speaks for itself and he leaves everything in the ring. Chris Williams is rediscovering himself and he's trying to atone for his past. You know what this makes the two of them? Actual people, with actual flaws who live in reality. Not everyone has Scrooge McDuck money and gets to live a pampered life of luxury and those that do are out of touch with what the rest of us go through!
Angel: Oh Smith, you're the only one to blame for the fact that as a 40 year veteran making minimum wage. You speak out of line week after week and the fines just keep racking up. Before you know it you're going to be paying to work here instead of being paid to do your job.
Williams and Cocheese after looking at each other rush to the ring. They begin brawling with the Shades as Derek Lay quickly calls for the bell.
DING DING
The first two minutes of the match are just uncontrolled brawling and chaos, Williams, Cocheese, Yellow, and Green all just going after each other. Derek Lay attempts to enforce order but comically gets shoved away by each of the competitors whenever he tries to get in close. Cocheese and Williams manage to whip Green and Yellow into opposite corners and they take turns launching themselves at the Shades. First Williams whips Cocheese into Green, then Cocheese whips Williams into Yellow. Then Williams whips Cocheese into Yellow and Cocheese responds in kind by whipping Williams into Green. Finally Williams whips Green towards the center as Cocheese simultaneously whips Yellow to the center as the Shades collide into one another!
Smith: Surprising teamwork being displayed by Chris Williams and Frankie Cocheese right now. They're working together as a well oiled machine and so far appear to be on the same page.
Angel: This isn't going to last. Bottom line is they're both fighting for the same thing, which is only one vacant spot in the Main Event of WAR. Sooner or later they're going to realize that and this whole thing is going to fall apart.
Bradford: Very astute observation, Champ. I mean why would they want to work as a team for any undetermined length of time? They have almost nothing in common and they're certainly not friends nor are they part of an elite brotherhood. They're selfish to the core.
Lay once again insists on restoring order but Cocheese and Williams ignore the ref and Lay remains powerless as no legal man has yet been established for either team. Williams and Cocheese appear to have caught onto this fact and decide that it'd be in their best interests to work together for now to deny giving Tommy Angel the opportunity to pick a worn out challenger. Cocheese and Williams decide to work on the slightly slimmer Yellow Shade first as they pick him up off the mat and they try to lift him up for a double suplex but halfway through Yellow shifts his body weight as he lands back on the ground and plants them both with a double DDT. Green sits up ominously as the Shades look at each other briefly before turning to Williams as they each lift him up off the mat with a hand around his throat before swiftly slamming him back down and kicking him out from under the bottom rope and onto the outside. They then turn to Cocheese as Lay again attempts to establish order as he points out that Cocheese has been established as the legal man and that the Shades should quickly do the same. With a menacing glare from the destructive duo Lay quickly throws up his hands and backs up. The Shades eerily glare at the refereee as they grab each other's hand like they were getting ready to arm wrestle before both dropping down to the mat as they connect with a double elbow drop. Yellow then ducks out to his team's corner.
Smith: And finally after nearly 5 minutes the legal men have finally been established in this match. Derek Lay didn't even know who to order out of the ring.
Bradford: Isn't it obvious? Derek Lay is scared of The Shades and Frankie Cocheese so he's pretty much just letting them go at it and letting multiple rule infractions slide.
Angel: Let's call it what it is Bradford; Derek Lay isn't doing his job. He's calling this match far too loosely and as you saw from the very beginning it quickly devolved into chaos. Normally I'd file a report with IC3 about this but considering Derek Lay isn't Mike Maddix and that he doesn't have an established agenda against me I think it's best to let it slide. Well that and the longer The Shades beat on the Thug and the Ingrate the more I benefit.
Smith: Talk about double standards. It was only two weeks ago that you were bullying Mike Maddix and trying to inflict bodily harm on him over a perceived slight in an attempt to abdicate responsibility for your own actions and you have the nerve to pull that card tonight?
Angel: Do you see that belt on our desk right now? That means I can say whatever I damn please. It means I am the best wrestler in MSW, hell the World for that matter. If the Boss tells you to officiate a match a certain way? You do it; you don't ask questions, you do it. Tell me Grandpa, why do you enjoy making far less than someone with your impressive resume would command? If you kept your mouth shut and called the matches as corporate tells you to you'd be one of the highest paid men in this company, you could have even had a spot in First Class as a Senior Consultant. Instead you keep going against the script and guidelines laid out before you and you're getting fined so hard that your grandchild is going to be in debt before too long.
Smith: You leave him out of this you son of a bitch! I have integrity, unlike the stooge sitting next to me!
Angel: Apologize! Apologize to that man right now!
Smith: NO! I have something called pride and integrity, I have morals and I'm not asking you to agree with them but you damn well better respect them! What happened to you? You went from being a man trying to make a name for himself the right way to some corporate sellout! You didn't earn that championship, you haven't earned anything, IC3 has handed you everything because he thinks you're a puppet he can control!
Angel: I opened my eyes, I woke up. I don't expect you to grasp such a basic concept. I decided I was going to start doing what was best for me, I decided that I was going to stop being what other clueless suits told me to be and I found my self-respect. Look at the results, look at that belt! That validates every single decision I've made since returning to MSW. Look me up when you win one of those.
Green goes for a pinfall with his hand placed on Cocheese's chest. The ref drops down to count 1, 2/KICKOUT! Cocheese shoots the arm up just shortly after the count of 2. Green wraps his hands around his throat and begin strangling him as his feet kick up and down the mat as his struggles for air. The Queen Shade looks extraordinary pleased by these turn of events as she watches her engines of destruction reek havoc. Lay shouts for a clean break which causes Green to again glare eerily at him, causing a brief moment of hesitation.
1!
2!
3!
4!
FIV-
Green lets go before Lay could finish the number, narrowly avoiding disqualification. Green grabs Cocheese by the legs as Yellow slaps him on the back for a blind tag. Green then begins to spin around, faster and faster as Cocheese appears to be trapped in some sort of cyclone hold by Green!
Bradford: I can't believe I'm seeing this with my own two eyes! The rarely seen Cyclone of Destruction; I thought it was just a rumor!
Angel: There you go Green, make him puke!
Smith: That takes a lot of balance and self control to pull off. Rotating your opponent in such a circular motion often can be a doubled edged sword as you're disorienting yourself just as much as your opponent. The human body isn't meant to be spun around like that.
Round and around Green spins, the referee caught in awe of the move.
1!
2!
3!
4!
5!
6!
7!
8!
9!
10!
11!
12!
13!
13 rotations before Green released him and flung him across the mat. As this was going on Yellow had sneakily ascended to the second rope and he came flying off with a diving legdrop on Cocheese. Yellow quickly goes for the pin. 1, 2, THRE- Williams had darted into the ring and with a desperate dive managed to break up the pin just in time! The Queen Shade was outraged as she pointed and yelled at Williams and the crowd quickly booed as Lay began arguing with Williams and trying to usher him back to his corner. Yellow seized the opportunity and began to choke Cocheese with his boot as Green darted back in and proceeded to stomp a mudhole into him with the ref's back turned. As Lay turns back around Yellow releases the choke and goes onto the apron as he slaps his hands together to imitate the sound of a tag being made. At the beckoning of the Queen Shade, Green puts Cocheese resting on the second rope before running off and rebounding off the opposing ropes looking to guillotine Cocheese between the ropes and his body but Cocheese just manages to roll to his right to escape a grisly fate. Green catches nothing but the middle rope and infact actually gets caught by his momentum taking him a little too far as he was now painfully straddling the middle rope where the sun or the shades don't shine.
Bradford: OH NO! What a tragedy! Nobody, man nor Shade should have to suffer such a cruel fate!
Angel: He got lucky, Bradford. He has to be acting on instinct after being spun around like a top and repeatedly choked. He doesn't even know where he is right now and I'm a little surprised he isn't vomiting.
Smith: For maybe the first and only time I actually have to agree with you. You have a point there.
Angel: Of course I have a point, I'm the MSW Heavyweight Champion and that's not by accident.
Cocheese quickly uses the rope as a guide as he clotheslines Yellow off the apron before being caught by a throat thrust by Green who while moving a bit slowly had enough awareness to land the strike. Cocheese staggers back as Green lunges forward to grab him around the neck for a Chokeslam, lifting him high into the air. Cocheese manages to slip out of his grasp midair, as he bounces back against the ropes and connects with a desperation Toe Tagger (crooked arm lariat). Both men are down on the ground now, as Cocheese is too exhausted to take full advantage to go for the cover. Williams starts clapping and stomping his foot on the apron as he holds onto the tag rope and stretches his arm as far as he could.
1!
2!
3!
4!
Both men start crawling towards their corners, Cocheese making the most progress out of the two.
5!
6!
The Queen Shade yells at her minions to “STOP HIM!” as Green begins to get up to a knee upon hearing his liege's beckoning.
7!
8!
Green gets up and grabs Cocheese by his boot just barely a fingertip's length away from his partner. Green starts to drag him back as the ref stops his count but Cocheese shifts his weight and momentum backwards for an enziguri to stun the big man in his tracks! Cocheese gets to his feet and makes one last heroic lunge as he just barely manages to slap Chris's hand as Lay claps his hands up to acknowledge the tag. Yellow reaches over and with his impressive reach slaps the downed Shade to tag himself in as well!
Angel: Here we go. Green may be down but Yellow is fresh and he looks like he's been chomping at the bit to get in the ring.
Smith: But so is Chris Williams and he looks fired up as well.
Bradford: Chris Williams should have just hopped off the apron and preserved himself. Why is he wasting his time with this?
Angel: You know, there's a good chance I would've actually chosen him as my opponent right here and now if he did that. That would've been the correct move to preserve yourself and look out for your own interests.
Smith: I don't buy that for a minute.
Angel: You don't have to; it's my choice at the end of the day.
Smith: You would've probably waited for the fall out between the two before you picked an opponent; that's how First Class operates isn't it? Take the easy way out?
Angel: Work smarter, not harder. You're starting to catch on.
Smith: Disgusting.
Bradford: And that's why your the Champ, Tommy!
Williams comes out firing on all cylinders off the hot tag as he knocks Yellow down with a clothesline. Yellow quickly gets back up only to be slammed back down with an armdrag. Green gets up and tries to bail out his fellow Shade but eats a belly-to-belly suplex for his troubles. Yellow thinks he has Williams in a blind spot but the veteran ducks his onslaught and quickly follows up with another belly-to-belly suplex, using his momentum to take the big man down. Green gets back up again and tries to catch him with a Stinger Splash into the corner but he wisely moves out of the way before lifting him and and hitting a very quick Boiling Point (Emerald Flosion).
Smith: BOILING POINT! BOILING POINT! Chris Williams somehow found the strength to lift him with that Boiling Point, that's close to 400lbs!
Bradford: Green had something in his eye, that's why he missed! The referee should've called for a pause in action for that based on medical grounds!
Smith: I wonder what Tommy has to say about what we're watching right now? Do I detect distress coming from the First Class Camp?
Angel: ...
Yellow doesn't appear to be much better off as he struggles to get off the mat and Williams goes to snuff out any attempts of a comeback with a swift double armed DDT to plant him into the mat. Williams drags yellow over the corner and tags Frankie Cocheese who during the surge from Williams managed to regroup himself and recover a bit as he begins to climb up onto the top rope. Yellow gets up as Williams in a great show of might manages to scoop him up on his shoulders in an electric chair hold.
Bradford: Williams can't possibly keep the big man up like that for long, he was barely able to hit that Boiling Point. His leg is going to give way, his back is going to go out... there's no way he can pull this off.
Smith: We haven't seen a move like this in a very long time, a move made famous by a very decorated tag team. Frankie Cocheese isn't known for going to the top rope but if he's about to do what I think he's going to do it's going to spell Doomsday for The Shades!
Angel: ...
Before the answer to the Bradford's question would be answered one way or another Cocheese lept off the to rope, connecting with a Flying Toe Tagger to put a modern twist on the classic Doomsday Device as Yellow tumbles all the way down to the mat with authority. Cocheese rolls over and hooks both legs as the crowd counts with the pin. 1, 2, 3!
Gavin Grey: Here are your winners... the team of Chris Williams and Frankie Cocheese!
Tommy Angel throws off his headset as he grabs a mic off the announce table. Holding his championship on his shoulder he raises the mic up to his lips.
Tommy Angel: Congratulations, the two of you. You really busted your asses out there tonight, just like the working man. No wonder these hicks love you.
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Tommy Angel: Oh shut it, you know it's true. I see a few lil Frankies in the crowd with there bandannas up and a rap sheet that probably includes vandalism and various other mischief. You're going to be in prison by the time you drop out of high school Junior.
Tommy says this as he points to a kid in the crowd wearing Captial Crew gear, couldn't be any older than 12 or 13.
Tommy Angel: Instead of striving for class you're diving for the gutters of society. As much as I don't want to choose you Chris, you're not a self-admitted thug and I think that by choosing some dunce who couldn't even pass his GED because he was too busy selling dope on the yard I'd set a bad precedent. We can't have people think that you should get rewarded for living that kind of life style so I'm sorry Bandanna Man, you're out of the running.
Frankie chuckles as he picked up a mic from the ring announcer as he stood in the ring with Chris Williams, their celebration cut short before it could even begin. Williams watched on with a vested interest as well as everyone else watching in person and at home.
Frankie Cocheese: You see, I had a feeling you'd duck me. You know, I'm starting to think Chris Williams was right, you don't have the balls to put your money where your mouth is and make it a triple threat. You want to take the easy way out of everything. But that's OK Chief, you have the right to choose your opponent...
Frankie's voice trails off as a sly grin shoots across his face.
Frankie Cocheese: But... I wonder what your girlfriend has to say about that? Does she think you made the right choice?
Tommy Angel goes to raise his mic up but before could speak Barrel was on the screen as the big screen started airing a feed from backstage, and he wasn't alone. Izzy, the pride and joy of IC3 was sitting nervously in a chair, her eyes darting around out of panic as Barrel rested his hand on her shoulder.
Barrel: You sure about that Champ? Are you sure you don't want to rethink that choice? See your girlfriend and I were watching this match backstage and well... I think she'd want you to think this over long and hard. She doesn't look very comfortable with your current choice, do you Izzy?
Izzy doesn't say a word, absolutely terrified by this bald tattoo'd man. IC3 could be heard shouting frantically in the background, a frantic tinge of fear in his voice.
IC3: Do what he says! Do what he says! Don't let him hurt Izzy! Do what he says Thomas! Just pick Frankie... please!
Tommy looks absolutely flustered as he looks at the ring, his belt, the screen and back again. Finally after what felt like eternity but no more than 5 seconds he raises the mic up as if his brain was running on autopilot.
Tommy Angel: You got your match! You got your match you son of a bitch! I.. I'll just kick both your asses! Just let her go!
Tommy Angel slams the mic down like a football player spiking a football before the reality of the situation finally dawns on him. His face turns pale as if he just saw a ghost when he realizes exactly what he just agreed to.
Smith: I can't say I agree with his methods but that's one way to back the champ into a corner!
Bradford: Where's Varano? This can't count, it can't! Tommy and IC3 didn't have a choice! This is blackmail and coercion, this is a felony!
Smith: Like it or not Tommy Angel just locked himself into a Triple Threat at WAR! That's all the time we have for tonight, we'll see you in 2 weeks in San Francisco!
