[And we return once more to “Rio”, with the ten men involved in our second big elimination match all milling about in their respective corners, waiting final instructions from Lorne Davis and for the bell to ring.]
RC: I have a quick question, Skip.
SS: Absolutely!
RC: What’s the name of the arena we’re in again? I’m having a friend pick me up here in Rio, but I need to tell him the name of the place.
SS: [Stammering nervously] Well, I, er, that is…
RC: Or even just the name of the street we’re on, that would do. Or the neighbourhood of Rio we’re in. Any information would be helpful.
SS: [With a clipped pace, so as to cut off any possibility of response.] I’d love to tell you right now, but we have to see the Tale of the Tape!
TALE OF THE TAPE | |
---|---|
European Money | Villanova’s Villains |
1307 lbs | 1342 lbs |
Fairplay | Aggression |
SS: As you can see, Villanova’s Villains have a slight weight advantage, but that all comes down to Twinkletoes Tiwilliger.
RC: Yes, very interesting. But about the civic address of this arena…
SS: [interrupting hurriedly] There’s the bell, we’re off!
[The bell has indeed rung, a bit earlier than we might expect as the two men chosen to start the match from each team have only just entered the ring. It’s almost as if someone in production wanted to cut off Randolph’s line of questioning, for some reason. Anyway, let’s ignore all that address business and get down to the action! Luis Sanchez is in first for the Villains, up against “Big” Johann Wanz for European Money. Sanchez is bouncing around the ring, trying to stay as quick as possible and use his speed advantage against the much larger and more powerful Wanz. Johann tries to move towards him, but he’s just a tad too slow and Sanchez reacts by throwing defensive kicks, committing just enough to keep Wanz from closing the distance.]
RC: This is exactly what Sanchez needs to do – use his speed to keep the big man at a distance, and wait for an opening.
[Luis changes his plan slightly the next time Wanz moves towards him, running in rather than kicking, which surprises the Austrian weightlifter. He gets in close enough to hit a quick chop to his massive upper chest, which very briefly stuns the big man. This is all Sanchez takes, bailing back out of range rather than following up. A bit annoyed, Wanz rushes onwards again, but Sanchez backpedals while throwing a quick jab that catches Wanz without seriously hurting him. Sanchez continues to dance away just out of reach of Wanz, his hit and run tactics drawing the jeers of our fans but approving nods from all three of his teammates in the corner.
Hold on a second, all three?
That number is right, as Jakob Aitkins isn’t on the ring apron watching the action and waiting to get involved. Instead, he’s seated at ringside next to Jennifer Trigby-Williams, chatting pleasantly with our ring announcer as he keeps one eye on the ring.]
SS: Do you see that, Randolph? Jakob Aitkins is sitting right next to our ring announcer.
RC: That must be what he was speaking to her, and to the Visconte about before the match. He’s helping Villanova stay focused on the match by ensuring no harm comes to his lady love! What a useful, thoughtful young lad!
SS: Lady love? I assure you, the only harm Jennifer fears is from the advances of Nico! Still, she seems to be getting along with Jakob well enough for the time being.
[Back in the ring, the Human Hand Grenade continues to float like a butterfly, ducking a big haymaker and then slowing down Wanz with a quick kick to the side, near the ribs, before once again dancing just out of range. After all these little successes, though, he gets a bit too cocky, ducking his head just close enough to entice another punch attempt – but he judges slightly wrong, and Wanz actually clips him with his “Big” right hand, knocking Sanchez to the mat. Luis scrambles up as fast as he can, but he’s given Wanz enough time to close the distance – and this is very bad for Luis, as Wanz drives him back down to the mat with a headbutt. Sanchez tries to get up again as quickly, but he’s a bit more scrambled after that and Johann is able to control him easily, hitting a sidewalk slam that very definitely plants Sanchez into the mat – and keeps him down.]
SS: You can’t hit and run forever, not when Wanz is completely fresh!
RC: Get up, Luis! You’ve got to get out of there!
[No one gets up that quickly when Johann Wanz slams them, so Sanchez is still done when Wanz takes the time to reach over to his corner and tag in his regular partner, Till Bromme. The two move into position fluidly, showing the experience they have working together as they whip Sanchez to the ropes. As he comes back, they each grab a hold of him from either side and lift him harshly into the air, bringing him down with a big tandem spinebuster! After hitting the big double-team, the two share a quick “high ten”, with the more excitable Bromme particularly pumped up, before Wanz turns to leave as per the referee’s five count.]
SS: There’s the advantage of a tag team being together! The Austrians have a big advantage here, and we’re seeing exactly why.
RC: Luis Sanchez is feeling why, and I can assure you he doesn’t care for the feeling.
[Bromme grabs a hold of both Sanchez’s legs, tucking them under his armpits, turning a bit so that his back is facing towards a corner of the ring. Sanchez starts to wave his arms, aware of what’s about to happen to him, but he doesn’t have time or the proper position to counter, and Bromme is able to lean back, sending Luis flying towards the corner to take a wicked slingshot bump into the buckles! He tries to stay to his feet, and ends up staggering backwards blindly as Bromme gets back up. Till sees him coming and is able to set him up easily for a big atomic drop, Sanchez again flying forward into the corner after the move!]
SS: Luis Sanchez is in a very bad way here, courtesy of the Austrian powerhouses.
RC: And if they can keep him away from his teammates and eliminate him first, that’s a big loss to Villanova’s Villains. Not insurmountable, but it’s a rotten spot to be in down 5 to 4.
SS: In fact, the team that drew first blood in our opening match, Blitzkrieg Bop, did go on to win – although just by the skin of their teeth.
[Till charges into the corner after Sanchez, who this time is holding onto the ropes for support, and smushes him into the post with a huge running splash! That impact, plus the last two moves, has Luis collapsing to the mat – which Bromme follows up by dropping his massive chest over Sanchez’s for a lateral press.
1…
2…
…and a shoulder up from Sanchez!]
RC: Bromme didn’t think to hook the leg there, and it cost him. Even if Sanchez wasn’t ready to be eliminated, hooking the leg forces him to spend more energy kicking out.
[Till isn’t put off by not getting the cover, quickly scooping up Sanchez before he can turn the momentum and carefully placing him where he wants with him with a slam to the mat. This then leads to the suplex machine heading to the corner and, somewhat surprisingly, going up to the top and measuring the distance to Sanchez. He then takes to the air, theatrically rotating his arms to extend the elbow out, showing a surprising if not quite total proficiency with the flying elbowdrop… except for the landing, which he misses completely when Sanchez rolls away at the very last second.]
SS: I’ve never seen Bromme try to soar and score from the top like that!
RC: And he missed, so now you know why.
[Sanchez, tired of being pummeled about by two giant Austrians, scrambles towards his own corner with the brief window of opportunity he’s created, and lunges forward to tag in his own giant partner – the King of the Cruiserweights himself, Twinkletoes Tiwilliger. Twinkletoes soars into the ring gracefully – by which of course I mean he lumbers over the top rope one foot at a time, swaying like a drunken ox. Bromme gets back up during this time, and stares at the much larger man he now faces, the two walking slowly towards each other as their eyes narrow and the tension in the building grows.]
RC: I just had a great promotional idea, Skip.
SS: Oh?
RC: Bromme loves America, right? Wears the red, white, and blue? And he’s a powerful man?
SS: That’s all true.
RC: So, we have him face off against Twinkletoes here in a body slam challenge. Hold it somewhere patriotic… a military base, perhaps? No, the deck of an aircraft carrier. And then, if Till can slam him, we have him do a promotional tour across the country. Put him in his own luxury bus. Since he’s a body builder, we could play on that, call it, say, the Flexpress. Or something like that.
SS: Randolph, that’s… that’s the worst idea I’ve ever heard.
[I’m pretty sure we’re never going to see that in Fighting Spirit. What we are seeing is the Austrian staring down the biggest opponent he’s ever faced in the ring, as a confident – if deluded – Tiwilliger stares back, both trash talking the other, Tiwilliger telling Bromme he’s not afraid even though he’s a “much bigger man”. The tension is finally broken when Till throws a punch – and the two are trading right hands as the crowd breaks out in applause at seeing the mammoth showdown! Bromme punches about as hard as anyone in the promotion, but even his big fists are having little effect on the massive Twinkletoes, whose own punches start to tell on Till. The pace of Bromme’s punches starts to lag, and this allows Tiwilliger to definitively take the advantage with a big headbutt. Bromme’s head shakes at the impact, and he’s momentarily stunned, which Tiwilliger follows up on with a thunderous earclap to keep Mr. America off his game. At that, the big man turns to the crowd and begins gesturing for the support of his “Twinkies”, earning only boos (despite, or perhaps egged on by, the gyrations of Elbitz on the outside in support of his man). Still, Tiwilliger reacts as if he’s receiving unanimous cheers and smiles, giving the crowd a big thumbs up. The time it takes for all this showmanship is enough for Bromme to somewhat recover, and much like Randolph suggested he’s actually going for a body slam! He has it hooked, has one of Twinkletoes’ feet a bit off the mat… but that’s it, as the weight is just a bit too much, and he has to drop him again, his back not up to the challenge.]
SS: Till Bromme is a power wrestler, but I’m not sure what his backup plan is against a 500 pounder! Tossing men around the ring won’t work here!
RC: If he could have got Twinkletoes off his, er, toes, that would have been a big accomplishment and it would have made the big man vulnerable. But he needs to try something else, and soon.
[I’m not sure he’ll get the chance, given the way the massive Twinkletoes gets over to him as quickly as his huge frame will allow and hoists the man up over his head – almost effortlessly, which given that Bromme weighs 271 pounds is one heck of a feat – and starts to carry him around the ring, held above his head in a gorilla press. Bromme is trying to work his way free, but he really has nowhere to go as, after three or four steps, Tiwilliger drops him with a huge press slam! He again tries to work the crowd after hitting a move, again getting no support and acting like he’s wrestling’s biggest fan favourite of all time, before he turns back to where Bromme still hasn’t stirred after that press slam. Men from both teams look on at the action with mouths agape, wondering how if Twinkletoes can manhandle Bromme so easily, they’d ever stop him. He doesn’t notice the attention, just going back to Bromme and drilling a kick into the back of his head as he first starts to move.]
RC: The Twinkling Wizard!
SS: Excuse me? That’s no Shining Wizard, that was just a kick to the head. A particularly hard kick, I’ll grant you…
RC: That’s what he calls it, Skip, the Twinkling Wizard. And I think, in his mind, he really is hitting a proper Japanese style Shining Wizard when he does it.
[After hitting the Wizard, Tiwilliger takes off running as fast as he can – which is not sprinter speed, it should be said – for the ropes, lifting himself into the air as he comes back just enough to drop a thunderous legdrop into Bromme!]
RC: The Twinkling Triple Flip Corkscrew Moonsault!
SS: But that was just a running legdr… oh, I think I’m starting to get this.
[A running legdrop from a man that size is no laughing matter, so when Twinkletoes follows the Triple Flip Corkscrew Moonsault with a cover, our fans here in “Rio” hold their breath in concern for Mr. America.
1…
2…
…and 3!]
JTW: TILL BROMME HAS BEEN ELIMINATED!
SS: We’ve seen Till Bromme perform at the top of his game for months here in Fighting Spirit, and Twinkletoes Tiwilliger just ran through him like a knife through hot butter! What does that mean for European Money?
RC: To quote Clubber Lang, when asked for his prediction on a fight, I’ll answer with one word… “Pain”.
[Matt Carter gets into the ring, looking up resolutely at Tiwilliger as he celebrates the first elimination of the match. Deciding that he might as well be hung for a sheep as for a lamb he runs right at Twinkletoes, catching him by surprise and quickly grabbing both his thighs in an attempt at a double leg takedown. The thought is good, the element of surprise works, but even with solid technique there’s just too much of Tiwilliger to be taken down that way, and Carter’s drive stalls out, leaving him vulnerable to a huge forearm to the back that knocks him to the ground. Carter tries to get up and away quickly enough to avoid being trapped in Twinkletoes’ striking range, but to no avail – he’s grabbed by the arm and drawn in for a short-arm clothesline that drills him to the ground. Matt’s up a bit slower after that, and again he’s controlled easily, as Tiwilliger slams him right back down. Carter rolls away on hitting the ground, managing to get close to his corner where he sits to rest for a moment, looking up at Twinkletoes with shock in his eyes at how easily he was tossed around. Player 1 leans out from the corner and slaps him on the shoulder, wanting to try his own luck to see if the big man can be moved.]
SS: Matt Carter had no success trying to take Tiwilliger off his feet, and I’m surprised Player 1 wants in there!
RC: He’s a moron, Skip! He probably thinks this is a video game and he just needs to figure out the secret combo that will knock Twinkletoes down!
[That may be true, as Player 1 is all amped up on entering the ring, waving his arms to get the crowd on his side – which seems to encourage Tiwilliger as well, as he assumes all those cheers are for him. P1 is certainly aggressive, running right at Tiwilliger and drilling him with a thunderous clothesline…
…to absolutely no effect! A second time, P1 runs to the ropes and leans forward, putting as much mustard on a lariat as he can…
…and a second time, the massive Twinkletoes doesn’t move, completely no-selling the strike! Player 1 shakes his head in disbelief, all while Tiwilliger just smiles and seems very satisfied with his own resilience as a luchadore. P1, at a loss for what else to do, takes off running a third time. But this time, instead of trying for another clothesline, he smashes Tiwilliger in the chest with a Yakuza kick!]
SS: That’s a modified version of Player 1’s 1-Up… normally, he’d hit the kick on an opponent running off the ropes, not when he’s coming off the ropes himself. And finally, finally, something seems to have affected Tiwilliger!
[It’s true, as the 1-Up has the big man rocking on his feet, teetering dangerously close to falling, waving his arms to try to keep his balance. Player 1 gets back up, sees the effect his kick has had, and decides to go for another one to try and take the King of the Cruiserweights off his feet. He doesn’t get the chance, as Tiwilliger recovers his balance just enough, and at just the right time, to intercept by moving forward to hit a massive lariat of his own, almost taking P1’s head off!]
RC: Well, so much for that plan.
[Tiwilliger picks up P1, who’s been knocked silly by that lariat, and whips him hard into a neutral corner. He follows behind him with a massive avalanche, which is then followed up by a stiff elbow to the head, the impact of both causing P1 to flop lifelessly to the mat. Tiwilliger follows up this Twinkling Elbow with a cover, rubbing his forearm roughly in the masked face of Player 1 as he does.
1…
2…
…and Player 1 is out for the count!]
JTW: PLAYER 1 HAS BEEN ELIMINATED!
SS: Talk about the immovable object! Twinkletoes Tiwilliger, as odd as he may be, is absolutely dominating this match! No one can take him off his feet, and no one can withstand his offense!
RC: He could take out that whole team, one-by-one, just by himself. He’s been that dominant, Skip.
[Liam Cassidy is the ring, and even that stubborn scrapper is looking at Twinkletoes with a mixture of awe and concern. Tiwilliger doesn’t go right to lock up with Cassidy, instead running around the ring to celebrate his success so far. Okay, by “running”, we really mean slowly jogging, but he’s still doing it, pumping his fists as he goes. That’s when suddenly, to the dismay of Villanova and Sanchez on the apron, to the surprise of Jakob Aitkins from his seat next to our ring announcer, and to the absolute disgust of the dominant King of the Cruiserweights, an overexcited Hencho #2 leans in to slap him on the back as he passes for a blind tag. The Hencho climbs into the ring, excited and clearly assuming that this will be an easy team to beat given the performance of his partner, while Tiwilliger very reluctantly begins to leave as Lorne Davis instructs him he has to get out of the ring.]
SS: Hencho #2 is prancing around in there… I don’t think he realizes how much he’s changed the momentum of this match!
RC: I think it’s cute, Skip. He thinks he’s people!
[Hencho stands right up to Cassidy, mocking him by doing a succession of fast jabs at the air in front of him, all while dancing on his heels in a passable imitation of a boxer or a would-be street fighter. Cassidy looks on, bemused, as the Hencho goes through with his warmup, or taunt, or whatever it is, letting the henchman tire himself out before he even starts wrestling. Hencho #2 continues to prance, ignoring the calls of his captain to just do something and then tag back out. At one point, he comes just a bit too close to Cassidy, who lashes out with a sudden right hand that catches the Hencho flush on the jaw and drops him like a sack of potatoes.]
SS: The One Punch Machine Gun!
[Hencho #2 looks like he’s been on the wrong end of an actual machine gun, as he just lies lifeless on the mat while Cassidy goes to cover him, and gets the easiest three count you’ll ever see.]
JTW: HENCHO NUMBER 2 HAS BEEN ELIMINATED!
RC: Thanks for coming out, kid.
[Cassidy doesn’t repeat the mistake of his opponent, taking the pin in stride and keeping his focus as a new opponent steps in to face him. By unanimous consent of the Villains, its the same as the old opponent – seeing how well Tiwilliger had been running before, he’s tapped to come back in and try to pick up where he left off. Liam, the veteran of many a brutal fight, instinctively knows what he has to do against a much bigger foe and rushes him while he’s still stepping through the ropes and thus less able to defend himself, peppering Twinkletoes with jabs and chops to keep him off balance. It’s working, too, as he’s stuck with one foot in and one foot out of the ring getting hit by a man who earns his money by hitting hard, and he can’t break free to respond. However, he’s had to get over into the Villains’ corner to do this, and that means he’s within easy outside interference range, which Nico tries to provide by swatting at him. He only catches a little bit, but it’s enough to annoy Liam and capture his attention. He turns to swing a big haymaker at the Italian noble, but Nico was already starting to drop back from contact. The punch does connect, but not with full force, as Villanova is knocked off the apron but manages to land on his feet, clutching his jaw. He’s done his job, though, as Cassidy continues to look back in anger at him long enough for Tiwilliger to get free of the ropes and assert himself with a headbutt to the back of Liam’s head.]
SS: It’s bad enough that he has to try to take down a five hundred pounder with grand delusions of fitness, but he has to worry about three men on the outside as well?
RC: These elimination matches are all about the numbers game, Skip. Always have been. A four to three advantage, when you have a man like Tiwilliger on your side, might as well be four hundred to three.
[Cassidy is, quite understandably, stunned by the massive headbutt from behind. Tiwilliger keeps the advantage, grabbing his head and rubbing it across the top ring ropes until the very end of a five count from our referee. Cassidy stumbles away, momentarily blinded, and Tiwilliger keeps up the offensive with a body punch into the side of the ribs that forces Liam to put his guard down. A whip to the corner follows, and then Twinkletoes is running into that corner after Liam, turning late in the bull rush to leap into him with a huge (and rather disgusting) butt splash, making a point to rub his posterior back and forth after hitting the splash. Tiwilliger then walks forward, giving Cassidy the room he needs to fall flat on his face.]
SS: How do you stop this man, Randolph? How do you slow down the King of the Cruiserweights?
RC: I don’t know if anything short of the 1st Armored Division could do it.
[Twinkletoes isn’t done punishing the Jersey Drifter by a long shot. He grabs an arm and hauls him back to his feet, all so he can whip him at top speed into the corner opposite, where Liam’s back hits the post hard. Tiwilliger is again running after him for a butt splash, turning and leaping to use his gluteus maximus to maximum effect. But Cassidy is able to duck away at the last second, to a large pop, and Tiwilliger ends up splashing his butt right into the buckles instead! Stunned by the impact, he stays in place long enough for Cassidy to leap up and mount him, holding a fist in the air for a second to get the crowd counting along with him as he fires in a series of punches.
1!
2!
3!
4!
5!
…and six never comes, because Tiwilliger just roughly shoves him off, sending Cassidy tumbling to the mat where he executes a surprisingly gracefully roll to end up near his own corner. Tiwilliger shakes his head in the corner, getting his bearings again, while Liam makes the quick decision that his punches haven’t been doing enough to keep Twinkletoes down, so he reaches out to tag in the one man on his team who might be big enough to make an impact.]
SS: Oh my, here comes “Big” Johann Wanz! It’s the irresistible force and the immoveable object!
RC: Wanz is a weight lifter and a former Strong Man competitor… but is even he powerful enough to derail the runaway freight train that is Twinkletoes Tiwilliger?
[A collective “ooh” of anticipation ripples through the crowd as Wanz steps into the ring and steps towards Tiwilliger, the two coming nose to nose for the almost obligatory staredown. For the first time in this match, and thus in his Fighting Spirit tenure, Twinkletoes is forced to look up at an opponent – if just barely, as Wanz has a single inch on him. We all get a moment of seeing the two behemoths stand next to each other, the mass of humanity, the power and potential for brutality almost staggering the mind… and then it starts. Tiwilliger, feeling intimidated in looking up at the “much bigger man” (he’s deluded, just go with it), responds with a big shove to the chest. Wanz does what no one else in this match would have done, would have been able to do in response to such a shove… he stays on his feet. An intense look in his eyes, he swings a right hand that not only connects with Twinkletoes but actually has a visible effect on him for a second, seeming to hurt the King of the Cruiserweights. Angered and surprised, Tiwilliger fights back with a punch of his own – and the slugfest is on!]
RC: Look at those haymakers from both men! Those punches would knock out a normal man!
SS: Wanz and Tiwilliger are throwing fists, toe to toe… and Wanz is winning!
[We all knew Johann Wanz was strong, and an incredibly gifted brawler, but seeing him out slug the massive Tiwilliger is beyond impressive. Tiwilliger, on the defensive for a change, responds with the classic equalizer – he sticks his hand out, thumb up, and gouges at Wanz’s unprotected left eye. Lorne Davis is right up next to him, warning him not to try an illegal trick like that again, but Tiwilliger completely ignores the ref and makes use of the ill-gotten turn in momentum. A massive headbutt to the top of Wanz’s skull rattles even the big man’s brains, and gives Twinkletoes time to stay on a methodical offensive, grabbing him in a standing side headlock and putting pressure on Wanz’s neck with his huge, flabby forearm.]
SS: All it took was one illegal eye poke, and Tiwilliger is right back in command. He’s going to be a very difficult man to eliminate, and near impossible if he can cheat whenever he gets into trouble.
RC: He can even make basic moves like the side headlock deadly, just because of how much weight he can put behind it.
[Wanz shakes his arms to pump up the crowd as he continues to struggle in the headlock. Tiwilliger makes a point of cranking his arm again to work the hold in a bit tighter, and one of Wanz’s knees begins to buckle… but he’s still circling his arms, pumping his fists, looking for a chance to strike in an attempt to escape. Just as it looks like Wanz is about to drop down from his standing position, he drives an elbow into the King’s stomach. That slightly loosens the grip, so Wanz tries it again, and with a bit more freedom to move he’s able to plant an even harder elbow. The second one gets him almost free, and a third one then forces Tiwilliger to let go of the headlock as it drives the air out of his ample gut. Wanz looks up to see Tiwilliger knocked back a step, and he leans back towards the near set of ropes to add some momentum as he leans forward into a modified sort of diving lariat! The impact rocks Twinkletoes, but it hits too high on his chest to affect his center of gravity and he just stands there, feeling the effect of a hard straight-arm. Wanz decides to go to the ropes again, to add velocity to a running forearm smash to the head that again rocks the big man, but is in no danger of knocking him off his feet.]
RC: Player 1 tried this strategy of running attacks earlier, and he wasn’t able to put it together enough to take Tiwilliger off his feet.
SS: Wanz is even bigger and stronger than Player 1, though, so it might work for him.
[Wanz heads to the ropes another time, comes back with a running lariat attempt, and he has Tiwilliger starting to waver, wobbling on the balls of his feet and arms swinging at his sides to try to regain his balance. This seems like a great opportunity for Wanz to run to the ropes one more time… almost suspiciously great, as Wanz evidently decides when he stops his run before hitting the ropes and just stands there, waving his hands at Tiwilliger to invite him to come forward instead. Annoyed that his ploy didn’t sucker in Wanz for a counter, he charges like a bull right at the Austrian – but Johann is now the one setting a trap, moving aside and pushing at Tiwilliger’s back as he goes to toss him into the corner, where his head makes contact with a turnbuckle! Stunned for just a few seconds, he turns and wanders back out of the corner, not entirely sure on his feet. This is perfect posture for Wanz, who reaches in to grab hold of one leg and begin trying to pick him up.]
SS: Wanz is going to… I don’t believe it! He slammed the five hundred pounder!
[Though it was quick, slightly sloppy, and perhaps not textbook form, Johann Wanz did what no one else on his team had been able to yet – get Twinkletoes Tiwilliger on the mat, courtesy of a body slam! The crowd, the referee, even the other men on the match all look on in amazement, while Tiwilliger instinctively rolls away from the incredible strongman who just slammed him, escaping under the bottom rope to look for comfort and a timeout on the floor below. But Wanz, feeling his oats, is in no mood to give Tiwilliger a timeout and he heads right out as well to press his advantage. Still feeling the effects of the slam, Tiwilliger is propping himself up by leaning against the ring (good thing it’s reinforced!) when Wanz gets to him with a surprising speed and pops him right in the jaw with a punch. He’s not giving Twinkletoes a moment to rest, as the punch just ensures he’s still in control so he can grab as close to a bearhug as he can get on the girth of Tiwilliger, pull him a step or two forwards, and then run at full speed to drive his back into the side of the ring! Tiwilliger is hunched over in pain, and a grim and determined Wanz is right there to keep controlling him, trying to get him into position for something else.]
SS: Johann Wanz has the big man in trouble, for the first time tonight, and he’s staying on the offensive!
RC: He has to do this, Skip, if he wants an elimination… but he also has to somehow get that big mass back into the ring.
[It turns out Wanz’s plan is to whip Tiwilliger into the turnbuckle, letting the steel continue his work of wearing him down. We find this out, however, when Twinkletoes is able to reverse at the last possible instant, and instead it’s “Big” Johann who goes running into the steel unprotected, almost knocking himself out! He tries to stay on his feet, stumbling backwards blindly, but Tiwilliger doesn’t show him any more mercy than he got, booting him hard in the gut to set him up for a huge vertical suplex onto the thin mats over a concrete floor!]
SS: A deeply unfortunate turn of events for Wanz and for European Money here… Wanz is out, understandably, after hitting the steel and then the floor, and it looks like Tiwilliger is just going to leave him there and take the countout elimination.
RC: And there goes the last obstacle to Twinkletoes eliminating that whole team by himself.
[Lorne Davis is up to a count of seven, and Wanz is showing no sign of moving, so Tiwilliger is indeed just lumbering his way to the ring to get back in and wait for another man to dismantle. That is, until, as he grabs the bottom rope to start the laborious process of pulling himself up, Nico Villanova from his nearby corner gives a meaningful nod to both Luis Sanchez and his occasional partner sitting over by the ring announcer, Jakob Aitkins. Suddenly, both Villanova and Sanchez drop down quickly into position around Tiwilliger and grab one of his tree trunk legs, holding him down and keeping him from getting back into the ring. Elbitz cries out for… something, but in his usual incomprehensible way it does no one any good, and a surprised Tiwilliger finds himself unable to move, until with a start he shakes both legs and frees himself just as Davis reaches a count of nine. But that’s not the last obstacle, as Aitkins has got up from his seat near Jennifer Trigby-Williams and leaps onto the back of Tiwilliger, latching on a sleeper from behind. Tiwilliger turns frantically, finally getting his hands onto Aitkins and tossing the much smaller man off without too much trouble… but by the time he has, Lorne Davis has already counted him out.]
JTW: BY COUNTOUT, JOHANN WANZ AND TWINKLETOES TIWILLIGER HAVE BEEN ELIMINATED!
SS: What the Hell? Why would Twinkletoes’ teammates all turn on him like that?
RC: It’s elementary strategy, my dear Sampson. Whoever wins this match faces only one man, and an injured man at that in Alex Martinez. The other members of the Villains all know they don’t need Twinkletoes help to beat Martinez. But, if he survives this match, they’ll have to deal with him in the finals after getting rid of Martinez, and you saw how he ran through everyone in this match. None of them wanted to face Twinkletoes later.
SS: So, you let him do the dirty work to get you an advantage in this match, and then you eliminate him yourselves?
RC: Precisely.
SS: (sighing) I’ll never understand the Spirit of Aggression.
RC: Evil will always triumph, Skip… because good is dumb.
[On figuring out that he’s been eliminated – and more to the point, screwed over by his teammates – Tiwilliger isn’t sure what to do. However, he soon hears the cheering of his “Twinkies” to lift his spirits (despite the fact no one is cheering for him at all), and he decides to collect Elbitz and live to fight another day. Just to be sure, though, all three of his partners have scattered to give him as wide a berth as possible, lest they feel his righteous vengeance. However, Tiwilliger actually accepts the instructions of Lorne Davis to leave, and he heads up the ramp slowly, shaking his head at what might have been.]
RC: He’s an odd duck, but we saw how effective Twinkletoes can be in the ring. Put him in a situation where he isn’t the target of everyone else, and he’ll be damned near impossible to stop.
SS: We’re down to three on two now, and the referee is calling for new men in the match… looks like we’ll get Nico Villanova and Liam Cassidy!
[The Visconte furrows his brow as he looks at the Jersey Drifter, a man from a rather different upbringing and class background than himself. He’s not sure what to make of Cassidy as he throws air punches to warm himself back up, so he goes to his default impression of an American… condescension. He walks over and puts a hand up just above his head, inviting Cassidy with a rather relaxed attitude to lock up in a collar and elbow tieup. Cassidy looks at the offer uncertainly, as the crowd implores him not to play into the technical strength of Villanova… but Nico’s big “friendly” smile convinces Liam, and he goes into the tieup. Though it would seem Nico would quickly control out of the grappling position, it’s actually Cassidy, not a technical wizard at all, who is starting to gain some leverage and push Nico back a step or two. Maybe that’s because the Visconte isn’t concentrating on wrestling at all, and instead has used the tieup just to sucker Cassidy in so he can drive a knee into his lower abdomen.]
SS: Talk about a cheap shot!
RC: Call it a cheap shot, call it whatever you like. I call it damned effective.
[Cassidy doubles over in pain, quickly letting go of his controlling grip on Nico, while our referee looks suspiciously at the scene. He must not have seen exactly where the knee landed, though, as he doesn’t do anything except look. Nico leans down slightly and drives an open palm strike into the throat of Cassidy, drawing a warning from the ref which doesn’t bother him in the least. Cassidy clutches at his throat, but he also gives Villanova a knowing look as he staggers back – though Cassidy has never been a dirty fighter, he’s been in enough scraps to know when someone else has broken the code and will continue to if you let them. For now, Villanova feels he’s done enough cheating to set up his other speciality – actual wrestling. He hooks Cassidy’s leg and lifts him into the air, only to drop him head first with a fisherman buster! After hitting the move, Nico briefly looks over to the timekeeper’s table, where one of his partners in Jakob Aitkins sits… but he’s not looking to Aitkins, rather the woman he’s minding for her, our ring announcer Jennifer. Clearly pleased with himself, he smiles right at her and mimes hooking the leg again to show off the admittedly great technical move he just hit. Apparently, he intends to show the move is dedicated to her. And then, he puts the cherry on his sundae of creepy attention…]
SS: That pig just blew a kiss to our ring announcer!
RC: It’s a game they play, Skip. He dedicates moves to her, then tonight after the show, she’ll introduce him to her special moves.
SS: She will not!
[His showboating done, Nico then turns and goes into an extremely lackadaisical cover over Cassidy, just barely deigning to put an arm over his chest. With the combination of the wasted time and the weak cover, Cassidy kicks out easily just after the one count, but Nico isn’t disturbed by it. He grabs hold of his head and hauls him up, using a chancery to maneuver him where he wants him, which is standing but with his head doubled over. He then lets go, but only so he can give Liam whiplash with a furious European uppercut! Then there’s a second, and a third, and a fourth, until finally even the extra tough Cassidy is knocked off his feet. This gives Nico another chance to preen for his would be conquest, Jennifer, telling her to watch out for this next move he’s planning to use to put Cassidy away.]
SS: Villanova showboating again… will it cost him?
RC: In a word, no. He’s tying Cassidy in knots with an abdominal stretch here, and there’s not a thing that stumblebum can do about it!
[Villanova does have Liam tied up with an abdominal stretch, and he’s torquing it as much as he can to put pressure on several points of Cassidy’s torso. Lorne Davis is right there, watching both to see that the hold is legal and in case Cassidy wants to submit to it, but on the outside Matt Carter is pounding the top turnbuckle, riling up the crowd into a rhythmic clapping to encourage Cassidy to fight through the pain. Jakob Aitkins, taking a moment off from chatting with the ring announcer, has stood up to wave his arms in the classic “quiet down” motion, which of course is having the opposite effect on the crowd, while Luis Sanchez just watches what’s happening with interest. And what happens is that Cassidy grits his teeth, plants his feet, and escapes by catching Villanova with a hip toss!]
SS: How about that, some counter wrestling from Cassidy!
[Villanova gets back to his feet quickly, but not quickly enough, as he eats a punch from Liam. This starts a pattern, where Nico just keeps feeding right into strikes from Cassidy, getting hit by jabs, slaps, chops, and finally a huge knife-edge to the upper chest that knocks him down and keeps him down. As Nico struggles to gather himself, Cassidy stands just a bit in front of him, winding his arm up to get his second knockout of the night with the One Punch Machine Gun, just waiting for Nico to stand up and get into range. Nico starts to get up, unaware, and sees too late what’s coming for him. With the knockout punch coming in and no time to dodge, Villanova tries for a desperation ploy, reaching behind him to find something, anything to get in the way, hoping that one of his partners has come into the ring to help out and that he can pull him into the way of the punch.
In fairness to Nico, his plan works. He had heard someone’s footsteps behind him, so he was right in assuming there was a warm body to sacrifice to the One Punch Machine Gun in his place. He was wrong about the identity of the man, though. It wasn’t either Sanchez or Aitkins come in to break up a bad streak for the team… it was referee Lorne Davis, who takes the full force of Cassidy’s punch and who goes down like a heap of bricks.]
RC: Referee down! This is where the Spirit of Aggression gets to shine, Skip!
SS: That coward should be disqualified on the spot!
RC: I agree, Cassidy should be booted out of the building for striking an official. But there’s no one to call for a disqualification, sadly.
[The tone of Chalmers’ voice suggest he isn’t at all sad that no ref is present to enforce the rules. Cassidy, genuinely sorry that the ref got caught in the crossfire, drops what he’s doing to look in and see if Davis is okay, and to offer an apology. Matt Carter, knowing that his partner can’t afford to take his eyes off the heels in this situation, bolts into the ring to try to protect him, but he’s cut off at the pass by a charging Luis Sanchez. Villanova, meanwhile, waves with his hand to call Aitkins into the ring – clearly, it’s a good time for some double teaming. Aitkins bolts up, briefly saying goodbye to Jennifer before he leaps up to the apron, while Nico buys time for him to get there by attacking the inattentive Cassidy from behind and incapacitating him with his second low blow in as many minutes.]
SS: This is very bad news for Liam Cassidy… and can we get another ref out here?!
RC: There’s no rush.
[Villanova picks Cassidy up and sets him up for a backbreaker rack… but this is, of course, just a prelude to dropping him in a cutter, aka Mi Destro! As soon as he hits the mat, Aitkins is leaping into the ring to hit his somersault kneedrop, the Nervous Breakdown! He rolls through after hitting to elegantly get back up, and Nico quickly orders him to the outside to help fend off Carter, seeing some rustling of the entrance curtains. As always, Nico’s sense of timing in heel shenanigans is impeccable, as Aitkins is just barely out of the ring when Suzanne Marchese emerges to run down the aisle and take over the officiating duties for this match. She thus misses all of the cheating to set it up, but sees Villanova picking up a limp Cassidy and carefully hitting him with a trademark implant DDT.]
RC: Vero Corragio means goodnight for Mister Cassidy!
SS: How does he keep getting away with all this?
[However he did it he got away with this one, as Marchese just heads in to make a count as Villanova makes another lazy cover, and gets…
1!
2!
…and 3!]
JTW: LIAM CASSIDY HAS BEEN ELIMINATED!
[Matt Carter is being double-teamed on the outside, while his last remaining partner is being helped to the side of the ring to leave once he recovers enough to walk off. On hearing that he’s now on his own, Sanchez and Aitkins quickly decide to throw him back into the ring so Nico can finish him off, and give all three of them a trip to the next round. Villanova is quick to take advantage, stomping away at Carter as soon as he’s rolled in. He then drops down to start choking Carter, driving his forearm into the throat to cut off the air, which forces Marchese to start a five count. Villanova breaks the choke at four and a half… only to start it right again!]
SS: “Money” Matt Carter is down three to one here… but we saw Ryan Martinez beat the odds in our earlier match!
RC: He used up all the luck in the building doing that, there’s none left for Carter.
[Nico breaks the choke for the second time, again getting damn near the full five seconds out of it. Nico gets back up and once again turns to face Jennifer, smirking at all the liberties he’s taken with the rules and utterly ignoring the looks of distaste she shoots him as he elegantly bows to her. As is usual for a wrestling crowd, when reminded that their villain is noble and a bit effete the fans boo loudly for that little flourish. He turns back to Carter, and is surprised to see the Money man already getting back up, so he grabs an arm and whips him to the ropes, setting up a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker. Carter is able to pull off an acrobatic reversal, slipping over Nico’s back during the spin to set up the would-be backbreaker and then take him down with a modified bulldog. With Villanova suddenly and unexpectedly at his mercy on the mat, Carter moves as fast as he can to lock on a crossface, trying to clasp his hands around the lower part of Villanova’s head. Nico immediately realizes everything has gone wrong and he’s in a bad spot, so he scrambles with equal urgency to shift himself towards the ropes, touching one with his free arm just as Carter gets the crossface locked in. This forces a break, which Carter gives cleanly. He’s smiling as both men get back to their feet, holding his thumb and forefinger a quarter inch apart to show just how close he was to getting Nico hooked.]
SS: Both these men are great technical wrestlers… we have to keep in mind that at any time, either could be just a few seconds away from latching on an inescapable submission!
RC: Everyone on Villanova’s team needs to be careful. They’re so close to the finals and an easy draw against an injured Ryan Martinez, it would be easy to lose focus for just a moment and get eliminated by Carter here.
[Villanova’s focus has returned after his near brush with the crossface – it’s back to where it is normally, a focus on self-advancement at all costs. He calls out to Jakob Aitkins, who still hasn’t officially been in the match and is back standing on the floor near where Jennifer is.
NV: Signore Giacopo! Deal with this man!
Aitkins, who’s had a pretty good run of avoiding elimination by not being in the match at all, can hardly turn down his friend’s request without looking bad, so he relents and steps up to his team’s corner while Nico walks there himself, keeping a safe distance from Carter lest he be unable to tag out. Carter, for his part, decides to let the switch happen, knowing he’ll have to beat all three men anyway. So Nico gets to his corner, makes the tag by slapping Jakob’s hand, and Carter turns his attention to the man who robbed him of a win last month. He waits for Aitkins to enter the ring…
…and waits…
…and waits. Aitkins just stands in his corner, despite having already made the tag, taunting and stalling in a pretty passable imitation of our own Adrian Cuisine’s favourite strategy. And just like if Cuisine were doing it, the point is to distract Carter from something else he ought to be noticing – in this case, that Villanova has ignored the referee’s decision to leave the ring, has circled behind him, and suddenly strikes with a chop block to the back of the knee.]
SS: Get some control in there, ref! Get Villanova out of the ring!
RC: He has a reasonable amount of time, and he’s going to use it, Skip!
[He’s using his time, and then some, setting up Carter in a camel clutch! Once he’s got the hold applied and is cranking on Carter’s neck and upper back, Aitkins decides now it’s time to finally enter the match. He climbs up to the top rope to set up a missile dropkick as Villanova continues to stay in the ring and hold on the clutch and referee Suzanne Marchese begins counting to try to get him to release, before getting more proactive and tapping his hands to indicate he should let go.
Whether it’s the distraction from the ref or just Carter’s ability at counter wrestling isn’t clear, but Matt is able to roll his body forward as Aitkins launches himself. He doesn’t escape the hold, but he brings his head and torso low enough to the mat that Aitkins flies over him… and more importantly, he brings Nico down just enough that his head is where Carter’s was a second before, meaning Aitkins accidentally drills his own partner in the face with the dropkick!]
SS: A costly mistake, and Villanova goes flying!
[That certainly causes a release on the camel clutch, and Villanova does a back roll to end up halfway across the ring. Aitkins is able to get up quickly, but he’s flustered at his mistake and doesn’t take advantage of Carter being down. Matt, for his part, pops up quickly with an adrenaline rush anyway, with flusters Aitkins even more. He swings wildly while running at Carter, which allows Matt to duck under the arm to set up the crazy flipping legsweep into a cradle known as a ranhei! It ends in a cover, which referee Marchese reacts quickly to get into position to count.
1…
2…
…and Aitkins JUST kicks out!]
SS: What a fantastic move there by Carter!
[Aitkins is clearly shook up by this sudden run of momentum against him, as he’s still reacting a bit slowly. An attempt at a roundhouse kick misses, which leaves him open to be grappled in by Carter and hoisted into the air for his version of the Michinoku Driver, the Chump Change Driver! Carter, knowing how the odds are stacked against him, follows up quickly to try and get his first of three necessary eliminations, and he quickly drops down to trap Aitkins’ head and one arm in a jiu jitsu style triangle choke!]
SS: The Six Dollar Vice! That could be lights out for Aitkins!
RC: A Six Dollar Vice is bad news, Skip. I could tell you about a young lass from New Orleans a few years back who left me with a souvenir it took three courses of antibiotics to clear up.
SS: Randolph, focus!
[Carter sits right beside Aitkins, leaning his weight over his chest and into the Vice, leaving him only one free arm, and that with only enough range of motion to do the inevitable.
Tap out.]
JTW: BY SUBMISSION, JAKOB AITKINS HAS BEEN ELIMINATED!
[Carter is up quickly, not prematurely celebrating as he knows only one third of the task he needs to accomplish is done. Marchese starts helping Aitkins roll to the ropes to get out of the ring, and Carter looks over to the part of the ring where Villanova had rolled moments ago. The Visconte basically just stayed there during the action in the ring, getting to the ropes so he’d be out of the way and deciding discretion would be the better part of valour while his partner was getting pummeled. Carter looks at the wily Venetian carefully, waiting for him to make his move or pull whatever trick he has up his sleeve.
Sadly, while he’s locating one threat, he’s momentarily forgotten the second – and either can become the new legal man just by entering the ring. Luis Sanchez enters in style, slingshotting in over the top rope and leaping clear over Carter, who turns at just the last second to face this new threat. Sanchez catches him with both arms in a waistlock as he comes over and rolls him up in a beautiful sunset flip flash pin.]
SS: Sanchez out of nowhere with the pin!
[Marchese in for the count as Sanchez holds onto both legs for all he’s worth.
1…
2…
…and…
…3! Carter kicks out one hundredth of a second too late!]
JTW: MATT CARTER HAS BEEN ELIMINATED! YOUR WINNERS ARE VILLANOVA’S VILLAINS, WITH LUIS SANCHEZ AND NICO VILLANOVA SURVIVING!
[Carter pounds the mat in frustration – clearly, it was the surprise of suddenly being pinned from a man he barely even saw that prevented him from kicking out in time – while Sanchez gets up to celebrate, running to a corner and climbing the ropes to raise his arms in victory. Nico Villanova shoots him a mixed look… he’s clearly pleased to be advancing, but he seems to have no love lost for the Human Hand Grenade, and is annoyed that it’s Sanchez’s music and not his suddenly playing to herald their victory.]
SS: A great effort there by Matt Carter, but a small mistake costs him two on one.
RC: Yes, and it means Sanchez and Villanova move on to face Ryan Martinez. Now if his shoulder hasn’t healed, that only means good things for the survivors of Villanova’s Villains.
[Sanchez continues to celebrate, and Villanova to glower, as Suzanne Marchese walks over first to Nico, and then Luis to advise them to stick around ringside.]
SS: I understand that because both elimination matches have been rather lengthy, we’re heading right onto the next round within a matter of minutes. Certainly, that has to benefit Ryan Martinez.
RC: It’s a small benefit, but keep in mind he needed as much time as possible to ice his shoulder and get the swelling down. I think it’s a wash, to be honest.
SS: We are just moments away from finding it all out for sure, as the two men at ringside take on the man who is backstage right now with Abigail Adams. Abigail?
[Cut to backstage where Abigail Adams stands with Ryan Martinez. Martinez is wearing his wrestling trunks, and is holding an icepack against his clearly injured shoulder. Martinez’ face shows bruises, and sweat pours down his body. Nevertheless, young Ryan remains as intense as ever.]
AA: Ryan, we’ve seen you emerge as the sole survivor of Team Blitzkrieg Bop. But that was only your first challenge tonight. In just a few minutes, you’ll be going in against the final two survivors of Villanova’s Villains. Nico Villanova and Luis Sanchez. Your thoughts?
RM: My thoughts? Well, Abigail. I’m banged up. My shoulder hurts. And I’ve got to find some way to beat two men. What am I thinking about? Do you even need to ask?
I’m thinking about how much I’m dying to get in that ring.
AA: But what about your shoulder?
RM: Like I said, it hurts. But these are the moments when a man shows what he’s made of. This is what defines me as a wrestler, and as a human being. I said it before, but I’ll say it again. I’ll _never_ stop fighting. I am going to go in there, and I’m taking that Cup.
AA: And your opponents? You face two very tough men.
RM: I do, and honestly? They’re the two I want to face. See, I’ve heard Luis Sanchez and his partner talk. And I’ll have heard from them is complaints. Far as I’m concerned, your little revolution is just a bunch of noise. You’re not a revolutionary Sanchez, you’re a pathetic, whining crybaby.
I can’t wait to shut you up.
AA: And Nico Villanova? Every Fighting Spirit fan knows you and he have had plenty of problems in the past.
RM: Villanova? As much as I hurt, I’m going to enjoy getting my hands on you. See? You like to talk about how you’re royalty. You like to put on airs and complain about the “peasants.” But here in wrestling? Well, the way I see it, I got the bigger claim to royal lineage. Let’s face it, if we’re looking at bloodlines… I got a better claim to the throne than you.
But see, Nico, in this dynasty? Its not about inheriting things. Its not about me getting handed things just because of who my father was. There’s only one way to get the title in this business. And that’s by winning.
So tonight, once and for all, I’m shutting you up. I’m taking the crown, and I’m taking the title. That Cup is mine. And going through you to get it? Well, that just makes me think Christmas got moved up to spring.
AA: Any final thoughts before your match?
RM: Just this. When I came here, to Fighting Spirit, I made a promise to the fans. I promised them that if they believed in me and stood behind me, that I would prove myself worthy of their support. They’ve held up their end of the bargain.
So tonight, I’m doing my part.
Stand behind me. Give me your support. Lend me your strength. I may be hurt, but I’m far from finished. If you believe in me, then I promise you, I will take that Cup, and I’ll hold it for every single one of you that cheered for me.
Count on it.
[With that, Martinez walks away, and Abigail sends it back to ringside.]
RC: Dead man walking!
SS: I’ll admit that Ryan Martinez is an underdog, perhaps even a big underdog, going into this match. But he won’t complain about it, as we saw, and he won’t quit. The man has not an ounce of quit in him.
RC: He should find some, and quick. If he doesn’t quit, he’s about to receive well more than an ounce of beating from Sanchez and the Visconte. Something more like a ton.
[Skip just shrugs, uncomfortable in his feeling that Randolph may well be right. That doubt remains unspoken for the moment, as our bell rings three times, solemnly, and all the house lights focus on Jennifer in the center of the ring.]
JTW: Ladies and gentlemen, this next contest, featuring the survivors of both first round matches, is your second round match in the Continental Cup Tournament! The match will continue until one team has no members remaining, or until each team has only one, at which point all remaining participants will proceed immediately to the finals!
[There’s a big, wall-shaking, main event about to start pop for that!]
JTW: Introducing first, already at ringside, they are the survivors from Villanova’s Villains! From Tampa, Florida, “The Human Hand Grenade” Luis Sanchez!
[Pitbull’s “The Anthem” begins for the third time tonight, and Luis Sanchez raises an arm in acknowledgement, bouncing his head to the beat as he gets focused. He ignores the boos, ignores everything but himself, his song, and the ring, as he amps himself up before he takes off running the ropes. As Jennifer again raises the mic, he’s already tested out each of the four sides, unable to stand still with excitement for the match to come.]
JTW: And his partner… he makes his hometown in Venice, Italy. Here is the “Visconte”, Nico Villanova!
[Full points for professionalism to Jennifer, who gets through the name without betraying her negative feelings for the arrogant aristocrat. The Latin infused rap rhythms of Pitbull give way to the foreboding “O Fortuna”. Nico, uncharacteristically, makes no showy gestures, makes no attempt to impress us with his refinement and style, and makes no notice of the crowd at all. He just stands on the ring apron, head down, centering himself for the 2nd round match – in stark contrast to his hyperkinetic partner, Sanchez.]
RC: We’re looking at the two men who have a chance at the Continental Cup, Skip. One of these two will take home the gold.
SS: Aren’t you forgetting about someone?
RC: Martinez is done, Skip. Finished. Kaput. With his shoulder, he has no chance to beat both of these men.
[After an appropriate pause to set the scene and let the crowd settle down from their continued booing of the two Spirit of Aggression members, Jennifer rises for her last introduction of the night.]
JTW: And their opponent, the sole survivor of Blitzkrieg Bop! Hailing from Los Angeles, California, please welcome Ryan Martinez!
[Martinez’s entrance song begins, and before anything else happens the fans are out of their seats as one, applauding the fight and courage of the second generation star.
#A revolution never come with a warning.#
#A revolution never send you an omen.#
A spotlight hits the top of the entrance, and a hooded man can be seen highlighted by it, standing solemnly, head down. At six foot five, he could be only one man.
#A revolution just arrived like the morning#
#Ring the alarm, we come to wake up the snoring#
The hood is thrown back, and Ryan Martinez raises his head, an intense thousand yard stare in his eyes as he looks right through everything to the two men in the ring, locked in on the task in front of him. The whole building is trying to capture his attention, cheering, chanting his name, small children rushing down as close to the aisle as they can get to try to reach out and touch him, but Ryan sees none of it and hears none as he walks slowly towards the ring.]
SS: What a match we’re about to see, Randolph! Ryan Martinez will bring the fight, even against two-on-one odds, for as long as he can!
RC: And he can still do some damage, of that there can be no doubt. But it’s a hopeless cause if he wants to win the Cup, and if he weren’t such a goody-two-shoes he’d see that.
[Martinez walks solemnly into the ring, where he gets into a brief discussion with Fighting Spirit’s senior official, Leslie Ingraham about last minute match instructions. Ingraham then turns to the two men left from Villanova’s Villains, looking to have the same chat on the rules with whichever one of them is going to start the match… but he can’t, as the two are arguing – loudly – that it should be the other who has that honour. Both are being quite demonstrative, and not the least bit respectful to each other, as they jockey to sit out the early parts of the match.]
SS: This is odd… I thought these two would be raring to pick over the bones of Martinez, so to speak. But neither wants to be the legal man to start the match.
RC: It’s simple, Skip. If this were just about beating Martinez, they’d be fighting to start, not to avoid it. But eliminating Martinez is pretty much a foregone conclusion, so Sanchez and Villanova know they’ll face each other at the end. Neither one wants to be in there with Martinez, even a badly hurt Martinez, and risk that he could pull off a few big moves and weaken them for the finals.
SS: I suppose that makes sense, in a totally self-centered sort of way… Hold on, it looks like Martinez doesn’t want to wait for an opponent!
[While the two Villains are distracted in arguing with each other, Ryan has stolen a march on both. He reaches out and grabs the back of both men’s heads with one hand and brings them together in a crowd-pleasing double noggin-knocker! Both men fall to the mat, with Villanova having the blind luck to fall towards the ropes and fall out to the floor below, while Sanchez falls further into the ring. Leslie Ingraham decides that makes the Human Hand Grenade the legal man, and he calls for the bell.]
SS: Talk about a meeting of the minds!
[Martinez, knowing he needs to take advantage of any momentum he generates up against two men, goes right after Sanchez and catches him with a knife edge chop to stop him from trying to escape. He whips him to the ropes, maneuvering to the side slightly so he can drill him with a back elbow to the face! The setup seems a bit unusual for him, though, as he moves to the opposite side of the running Sanchez that he normally would and lashes out with his left, not his right elbow.]
SS: A big back elbow there from Martinez!
RC: But he’s only using the left arm, Skip. You can’t protect an injured arm for long against two men the quality of Sanchez and the Visconte. He might as well have a target painted on that right shoulder, or for that matter, that whole arm!
[For the time being, he’s doing fine. He quickly directs a couple of stomps into the prone Sanchez’s body, and then quickly peeks over his shoulder to be sure Nico isn’t up to any shenanigans. Villanova, though, is nowhere near, keeping well away from his team’s corner to avoid any chance of even an inadvertent tag. He’s content to watch the two other men in the match wear each other down, grinning from ear to ear at the sight as he slowly tries to sidle towards where Jennifer Trigby-Williams is seated. She, in turn, keeps shifting her chair a few inches away each team he takes a stutter step towards her. With his mind eased that he can focus solely on Sanchez, Ryan bends over to turn him onto his stomach. He then takes a bit of space so he can get a short running start and drops a knee right into the back of Luis’ neck!]
SS: Martinez is not wasting time here, he’s going right to softening up the neck and upper back in anticipation of trying for his brainbuster finish.
RC: It’s his only chance, to try to eliminate Luis as quickly as possible. But can he even execute the brainbuster with effectively only one good arm?
[Ryan’s sure as heck going to try, as he drives a second knee into the back of Sanchez’s neck for good measure to continue the setup to the brainbuster. He then picks Sanchez up to continue the onslaught, again whipping him to the ropes. Even with a sore neck and having been on the wrong end of things since the second match started, Luis relies on his great instincts and clutches the ropes as he hits them, preventing himself from running back towards Martinez, who was setting up for a big boot. Ryan puts his foot back down and measures Sanchez, who is sort of slumped by the ropes, and decides to charge him. Luis was playing possum, though, as he is prepared for the rush by Martinez and pulls the ropes down, low bridging Martinez to send him flying out to the mats below! In an interesting twist of fate, he ends up falling pretty much right at the feet of Nico Villanova, in fact.]
SS: This ought to be interesting!
[Villanova looks down at his rival, and quickly Les Ingraham is running to that side of the ring to warn off any outside attacks. But Villanova does nothing of the sort, instead just picking up Martinez and rolling him right back into the ring.]
SS: What was that? I expected Nico to take advantage and get in a cheap shot or two, but he just rolls him right back in?
RC: The Visconte is too smart to act the way you expect. He doesn’t want to help Luis eliminate Martinez… he doesn’t want to get into it with either man. He wants the two of them to soften each other up, and leave the winner easy pickings for himself.
[Still, even his very limited intervention has worked out to the benefit of Sanchez, who is right on top of Martinez when he’s rolled back in, stomping away at him. After a few stomps, he’s dropping quick elbows into the ribs and guts of Martinez, just trying to hit him as many times as possible while he’s down. Finally, referee Ingraham interjects and shoves Sanchez away, ordering him to give Martinez enough time to get back to his feet on returning to the ring. Luis argues the point, so Ingraham points to his Fighting Spirit crest as the source of his authority, and Sanchez reluctantly complies… sort of. The very millisecond Martinez is standing again, Sanchez runs right over and grabs a side headlock, turning Martinez a bit to the side so he can’t keep a solid footing, before he shows impressive strength and technique with a spinning headlock takedown. He grinds on the side headlock even after Martinez hits the mat, before suddenly switching position to try to grab an armbar, which Martinez frantically scrambles and is just barely able to block, getting enough separation that both men are out of range of the other.]
SS: We’re used to seeing Luis Sanchez bounce around the ring in a high-octane style, but he’s also very technically skilled, and it almost paid off in spades for him there!
[Martinez and Sanchez both get up quickly, and Ryan once again is thinking offense first, charging right in to a quicker than a hiccup standing dropkick from Luis! The surprise of the move has Martinez down long enough for Sanchez, who never needs a lot of time to set up an aerial attack, running to the corner and leaping quickly to the second rope, where he sits in wait. Martinez gets up and walks towards that corner, a bit dazed, allowing Sanchez to come off and catch him around the head, flipping him onto his back with a tornado DDT! A cover quickly follows, and our fans hold their breath…
1…
2…
…and Leslie Ingraham’s hand…
…DOES NOT come down a third time!]
SS: That was so close! That was within a hair of being three!
RC: Martinez is running on fumes… and Sanchez can sense it. If he hits one more move, he puts him away and gets to the finals.
[That is clearly Sanchez’s thinking, as he locks yet another headlock onto Martinez and uses it to move him into position for a swinging neckbreaker, once again leaving him laying on the mat. This buys him time to again ascend the ropes, this time going all the way to the top and quickly getting his cat-like balance as he measures out the distance he’ll need to fly. Then, as flash bulbs pop… er, as smartphone screens flicker, I should say… he takes to the air for Silent Death, his aptly-named and quite deadly finisher. His rotations complete, and perfectly done, he comes crashing right down…
…onto Martinez’s just raised knees!]
SS: A big miss on the Silent Death… but can Martinez capitalize?
[He’s up as Sanchez holds onto his stomach, and the crowd is cheering loudly to try and power him on to answer that question in the affirmative. He picks up Luis and easily brings him into position. Position for what, you may ask? Well, to the very loud approval of the crowd, and the interest of Nico Villanova on the outside, he’s setting Sanchez up for the brainbuster. The front facelock is applied, the leg is hooked, and the lift begins… but we can see that even getting Luis into the air is putting incredible strain on the damaged right arm, as Martinez struggles mightly to first get him close to vertical, and then to hold him there.]
SS: Can he do it? Can Martinez hit the brainbuster?
[Sanchez is up, then starting to droop, then lifted back up, then wiggling to try and get his way back down…
…and then he’s dropped hard to the ground with the brainbuster! But it takes a toll on Martinez as well, who falls off to the side clutching at his shoulder and upper arm!]
SS: The brainbuster hit, but it might have taken every last bit of gas in Martinez’s tank to do it!
RC: He needs to make a cover, Skip, and he needs to do it right now!
[Pain and fatigue battle for control over Ryan’s mind as he sits close to an insensate Sanchez, our fans imploring, screaming, nearly demanding he get over there and go for the pin. Finally, he rolls over and drapes his damaged arm as best he can over the body of Sanchez, not able to muster any more forceful form of cover. Leslie Ingraham, who’d been primed for some seconds to register a count, is ready to see if this is our penultimate elimination.
1…
2…
…aaaaaand…
]
SS: BY GOD, HE DID IT!
[The crowd bursts out in applause as Ingraham holds three fingers up, while both Martinez and Sanchez remain lying on the mat, neither able to move.]
JTW: LUIS SANCHEZ HAS BEEN ELIMINATED! YOUR FINALISTS FOR THE CONTINENTAL CUP ARE RYAN MARTINEZ AND NICO VILLANOVA!
[Villanova, until now reluctant in the extreme to be anywhere near the ring, has dived in as soon as the three count registered. He picks up the exhausted Martinez and gets right in his face, spitting out a taunt that the man has no chance before he slaps him, hard! This seems to wake the injured giant, as his eyes go wide with rage. Villanova is not intimidated, driving another vicious slap into the face of Martinez! That’s just too much disrespect to bear, and as Les Ingraham helps Luis Sanchez slowly roll out of the ring, Martinez begins to shake with rage, a second wind coursing through his body, as a disbelieving Villanova looks on. In short, Ryan is hulking up, and he clocks Villanova with a big left hand!]
SS: Unbelieveable! He’s still got fight in him!
RC: But the Visconte has more fight, Skip!
[The punch clearly hurts Nico, but he responds with one of his own, quickly turning this into a slugfest right in the middle of the ring. The two men stand toe to toe, trading fist for fist, sweat flying, until Martinez makes a critical mistake. His instincts kick in and override his situational awareness, leading him to try to block an incoming punch with his right arm. He succeeds in the block, but at great cost – as soon as that arm is struck, he crumples to the mat in pain, the shock running through his body too much for him to take in his state.]
RC: You have to give Ryan Martinez all the credit in the world. He took on three men in a row, and beat them all in do or die situations. He was standing toe to toe with a fourth. But he just ran out of miracles, Skip. And the Visconte knows it.
SS: Look at that sick grin on Nico’s face! He knows Ryan literally can’t use his right arm anymore, and he knows what that means for this match!
[Nico stalks Martinez, walking in slowly, a smile on his face like a cat moving to corner a scared and injured mouse. Martinez is too hurt, too much in shock to fend him off, offering just a small swat that Villanova just takes to get in closer. He grips Ryan’s right wrist with both hands, pulling hard to force him back up all the way to his feet and then pulling him in so he can drive a shoulder block right into Martinez, hitting shoulder to injured shoulder! Martinez drops to one knee, stifling a call of pain only at the last second and biting down hard on his lip. Villanova gives him no time to feel the hurt, though, yanking on the wrist again to pull him right back in and drive his upper arm into the shoulder yet again! Again Martinez drops to a knee in agony, and again Villanova gives him no time to deal with the pain, immediately pulling him up again just so he can punish him with a succession of arm wringers!]
RC: The Visconte is not going to make the same mistake others did. He’s not going to give Martinez even the slightest window of an opportunity at a miracle comeback. He’ll punish that shoulder, and punish it, and punish it some more, until Martinez has no choice but to beg for mercy.
SS: If he’s waiting for Ryan Martinez to beg for mercy, he’ll be waiting an awful long time.
[With Martinez completely at his mercy, whether he begs for it or not, Villanova continues to hold onto the damaged arm so he can hoist Martinez up on his shoulder. Even though Nico is a powerful man – and a rather unliked one – there is an appreciative fan reaction to the power he shows in lifting the big Martinez up. He then runs forward towards the turnbuckle, dropping/throwing Martinez so his head and, more importantly, that targeted shoulder hit the top buckles! Villanova is headed straight to the ropes for momentum as soon as he hits the move, timing it so that when a dazed and battered Martinez stumbles forward, looking for a place to fall, he walks right into “Il Virtu”, Villanova’s deadly bicycle kick!]
RC: Villanova rolled the dice… and they came up Snake Eyes! And then he destroyed whatever was left of Martinez with Il Virtu!
SS: But what’s he doing right now? Leave her alone, damn it, leave her alone!
[The “her” in question, of course, is Jennifer Trigby-Williams, to whom a triumphant Nico has turned his attention. He points over to the area beside the entrance, where the Continental Cup trophy sits on a pillar, but he never takes his attention off Jennifer, loudly proclaiming how all these moves, all these eliminations, the pin he’s about to score on Martinez, everything has all been… for her. Jennifer, simultaneously mortified at all the attention and terrified as to how forceful Nico would be in trying to make his predictions of the two of them leaving to celebrate together come true, tries to scrunch up into a ball in her seat and hide, covering her face with one hand and trying not to look.
Normally, this is where you’d expect me to tell you that all that wasted time has given Ryan Martinez time to recover, and he’s about to pounce on Villanova… but it wouldn’t be true. He’s lasted through two matches and uncountable punishing blows to his shoulder, but he’s done. He’s still down, blown up, arm turned into a useless hunk of meat, his heroic defiance doomed to go down as a beautiful but hopeless last stand. Villanova turns back to him as he’s just starting to try to crawl to… somewhere, anywhere. Nico has no trouble picking him up, kicking him in the stomach to bend him over, and then drilling him into the canvas with a sick implant DDT.]
RC: Vero Coraggio!
[His finisher hit, Villanova makes doubly sure by hooking a leg as he makes the cover that he hopes, and all our fans dread, will win him the Continental Cup. Leslie Ingraham leaps into a perfect position to see the cover, and his hand raises up dramatically to prepare to hit the mat.
1…
2…
…and….
…NO! Martinez gets a shoulder up!]
SS: NO! NO! I don’t believe it, but this match is NOT over!
[Randolph Chalmers is too stunned by the failure of even Vero Corragio to put away Martinez that he can’t even speak. Meanwhile, our fans – as well as Jennifer – let out a huge sigh of relief that almost inexplicably Martinez is still refusing to quit. Villanova is similarly stunned for a few seconds, pulling at the ends of his dark, slicked back hair, until suddenly an incandescent rage overtakes him, his whole body shaking with the fury of a man not used to being denied what he wants. And all that fury is directed right at Ryan Martinez, who despite getting that shoulder up is still barely mobile.
NV: WHY… WON’T… YOU… QUIT?!!?
He’s even more shocked, and more enraged, when Martinez draws on some previously unrevealed depths of energy to start slowly rising to his feet yet again. If the place was unglued at the kickout, it’s becoming positively unhinged now, the crowd so loud one can’t even hear themselves think. Martinez gets up, shaking, his right arm held limply at his side, clearly useless, but his own eyes consumed by a righteous fire of their own. Furious at the… the presumption of this man, the defiance, Nico shows him exactly what he thinks of his continued fight.
He spits right in his face.
And as soon as the spit hits Martinez, he leaps forward, tackling Villanova to the mat, landing on top of him, raining down vicious blows with his one good arm!]
SS: You can break his body, but you cannot break his spirit or his pride!
RC: I’d settle for the body at this point, Skip! Ryan Martinez is either having the night of his life, or he’s some kind of Terminator!
[Martinez continues to hammer his rival, no plan in mind, no greater strategy than just wanting to hurt him as badly as he can for as long as he can. Sadly for Ryan, the position of his body and Nico’s partly obscures Leslie Ingraham’s view, so when Nico lashes out desperately to try to free himself and drives his knee right into Martinez’s groin in a blatantly low blow, Ingraham doesn’t see it. The torrent of fists stops, and Martinez slumps a bit, allowing Villanova to roll to the side and toss him off. He’s bought himself a moment’s recovery time and he uses it, drawing in a couple of deep breaths and shaking off the momentary pummeling he just took. He then goes to sit right next to where Martinez lies on the mat, an evil grin coming over his face.]
SS: What’s Villanova going to try here? What could he have left to try to put Martinez away with?
[Nico forms Martinez’s damaged right arm into a triangle, allowing him to slip an arm in to apply a half nelson… but this is just the start, as he then uses his other arm to pull that right arm of Ryan’s across his face, then clasping his hand to his wrist to lock in a cobra clutch. It gets worse for Martinez, as just as soon as the hold is set up, Villanova goes into a bridge to add even more pressure to the clutch.]
SS: Oh no, Il Grande Gioco… the bridging cobra clutch! This is exactly what Martinez didn’t need!
RC: The Visconte seems to have it locked in perfectly… and it attacks Martinez in two specific ways. It cuts off blood flow to the brain, which can knock him out, and it uses his own injured shoulder to help apply pressure, which could force him to submit from the pain.
[Martinez, having burned through more second winds tonight than most men get in a lifetime, is too slow in reacting and gets well and thoroughly trapped by Il Grande Gioco, right in the middle of the ring. His left arm is still free, but Villanova has set up his bridge off slightly to the right of Ryan’s body to stay out of range of any possible attempt to get his free hand in to break up the hold. Plus, Ryan’s vision is obscured, so he’s reaching around with his left hand blindly, and finding nothing to get a hold of. Rather than worry about this attempt to free himself, Villanova puts on as much pressure as he can to the clutch, getting on his toes and bending his ankles to add as much leverage as humanly possible – and for a strong technical wrestler like Nico, a lot of leverage is possible.]
SS: Martinez is stuck dead in the middle of the ring. His shoulder is being torn apart, and he’s having trouble getting blood and oxygen to the brain… look at how red his face is getting!
[An excellent second camera shot shows us a sliver of the left side of his face, all that is not covered by the extraordinarily tight hold from Villanova, and he is indeed turning beet red as he continues to swing his arm and feet tentatively, looking for any possible escape.]
RC: Every second that goes by, that hold becomes harder to break! If he was going to get out, he’d have done it already! His only chance now is to hold out as long as he can and hope Villanova gets tired and loses his grip – he’s not close enough to the ropes to sneak in a break, and he’s got no angle to try for a counter or an escape.
[Skip doesn’t respond, because on the evidence of it there doesn’t seem to be any way he can respond. Martinez is trapped, completely trapped, and though he’s still looking for a way out, it’s hard to see what it would be. Leslie Ingraham is right next to both men, looking carefully at the hold to be sure it’s not an illegal choke – but he finds nothing on that account. He’s also keeping a close eye on Martinez, waiting – expecting, really – for him to give up at any second. Villanova, clearly expecting the same thing, shouts out something near a demand to Ingraham.
NV: ASK HIM!
Dutifully, Ingraham leans in as close as he can and loudly questions Martinez.
LI: Do you want to quit, Ryan?
The answer, when it comes, is muffled by the arms of both Martinez and Villanova around his throat, is almost lost in the din of the crowd… but still, somehow, it comes through loud and clear.
RM: HELL NO!]
SS: Ryan Martinez, though he’s in a hopeless situation, won’t give up. Maybe he can’t give up.
RC: I may not like Martinez or any of the other Fairplay types, but I don’t want to see anyone suffer serious injury. Ingraham needs to step up and do his job, and call this match before Martinez’s stubborn pride earns him a one-way ticket to the long term disabled list.
SS: I’m not sure we’re at that point yet, Randolph.
RC: (in a leading tone) But…?
[There’s a moment’s silence as we focus back on the ring, Martinez still determined not to quit, but not able to do anything to free himself. Villanova still determined to squeeze the life out of Martinez until he gives. Stalemate continues.]
SS: (With obvious sadness.) But we might be close.
[You can hear a pin drop as everyone sits at the edge of their seats, hoping against hope that Martinez has one more miracle in him, that he can escape Il Grande Gioco, that he can just hold on long enough that something, anything will change to his advantage. Villanova is like a statue, showing his own impressive stamina at holding the bridge so long, continuing to squeeze for all he’s worth. Martinez still fights back with the only weapon he has left – his stubborn refusal to tap out, to say he quits. The movement of his free arm continues to become more and more feeble, as Villanova keeps demanding Ingraham ask him to quit every few seconds. Our referee doesn’t do that, but he’s right there to see everything develop, to watch as Martinez moves less and less, as his breath becomes more shallow, until finally when Ingraham asks out of concern if he’s ready to quit and hears nothing in response.
Ingraham reaches over and grabs Martinez’s left arm, feeling no resistance. He raises it up into the air, holding it there for a second, and the tense silence is broken by the cry of a child.
Child: COME ON RYAN! YOU CAN DO IT!
Ingraham lets go of the arm with both hands, forcing Martinez to demonstrate that he will, or even that he can, continue to resist.
And the arm drops to the mat like a stone.
Ingraham leaps to his feet, calling frantically to the timekeeper’s table to ring the bell – which they do, immediately – before he leaps over to Villanova and begins trying to get him to release the hold.]
RC: NICO DID IT! The Visconte wins, Skip! The Visconte always wins!
SS: (ignoring Randolph, and standing up to yell directly at Villanova.) It’s over! You won! Let him go, God damn you! Let him go!
[Nico is so caught up in bloodlust that he doesn’t realize at first he’s won, and he keeps squeezing on the cobra clutch. At length, as Ingraham claws away at his arms to try and break Martinez free, he finally realizes what’s happened and he immediately lets go of Il Grande Gioco, getting back to his feet with a massive smile on his face. He looks down at Martinez, who still isn’t moving, but before he can make any unfortunate decisions Ingraham intervenes, appealing to his vanity by offering to raise his hand in victory. Normally, Nico would have no interest in letting a commoner like Ingraham touch him, but under the circumstances he happily relents, as the crowd rains down boos – and at least one half-full cup of beer – on the scene.]
RC: Didn’t I tell you all that Villanova would win? Didn’t I predict just this very thing happening?
SS: I have to admit, you did. But we have to give all the credit to the world to Ryan Martinez for a gutsy performance.
RC: More guts than brains, I’m afraid. He still hasn’t moved in the ring.
[Ingraham is on top of that too, as he continues to distract the Visconte by allowing him the trappings of his victory to keep him from attacking Ryan again. He also sneaks a look over towards the entrance, nodding his head slightly to indicate someone should come out. When, a few seconds later, he gets a message over his earpiece (which we can tell as he puts his free hand over the ear), he suddenly turns Nico in another direction, which annoys the Visconte at first until Ingraham sells the idea that he wants Villanova to have his arm raised facing in the direction of all of his fans. While his back is turned, a couple of other referees, along with a pair of EMTs carrying an orange stretcher, run into the aisle at double time. Ingraham seems concerned Nico will turn to see this and object, but something else catches his attention… our ring announcer, Jennifer Trigby-Williams, who has yet to announce him as the winner.]
SS: Oh no. Oh no. This is not good.
[Villanova is trying his hardest to be charming, inviting Jennifer to join him in the ring, telling her that he did “all this for her, bellezza mia!”, telling her she could even get some free shots in on Martinez if she liked. Jennifer is frozen in place, deer in the headlights look, shaking with fear, completely at a loss for what to do. Thankfully, Leslie Ingraham is again thinking on his feet, and he suggests perhaps the only thing that could distract Nico from his amorous pursuits. He directs Nico’s attention to the dais where his trophy, his audience, and a fitting coronation await. The idea of being so honoured immediately appeals to Villanova, and after a word to Jennifer that he will be back soon for her, he allows himself to be led out of the ring by Ingraham, playing the part of the flunky to keep everything running smoothly. Jennifer breathes a huge sigh of relief, but still doesn’t move, as Nico heads out one end of the ring while the officials and EMTs are entering by the other side to look into the condition of Martinez.
One of the officials, unexpectedly, doesn’t join the rest in entering the ring, instead breaking off to head towards Jennifer. After a few steps, we notice it’s our Interim Junior Vice President Responsible for Live Events, Paul Esposito. He does look up to the ring as the medical techs are checking Martinez, and one of the referees looks down to give Esposito a quick thumbs up. Martinez is still not moving, but his eyes are now open and the EMTs are moving more thoroughly and with less urgency.]
SS: I don’t think Ryan Martinez is anywhere near a hundred percent, but it looks like he is at least regaining consciousness. It just goes to show that Les Ingraham made absolutely the right choice in calling the match when he did, and not waiting.
RC: It’s good to see Martinez is fine… because it means we can stop talking about him. He’s the loser, Skip! Let’s talk about the victorious Visconte! Let’s talk about the man who stands astride professional wrestling like a colossus! Let’s talk about the 2012 Continental Cup winner!
[We now have three stories all going on at once, which a cut between a single wide shot and close-ups of each tries to capture – Leslie Ingraham leading Villanova into position on the dais to receive his trophy… Ryan Martinez, battered and bruised, trying weakly to wave off medical assistance but prudently having his wishes ignored by the EMTs and assorted officials… and Paul Esposito, who we now see has a cordless mic in hands, walking over to speak to Jennifer Trigby-Williams.]
PE: Jennifer, we have a problem.
[Trigby-Williams blushes slightly, but doesn’t back down.]
JTW: I know, Paul, I know. I was supposed to announce Villanova as the winner, but… I just couldn’t do it. I’m sorry, Paul, I’ll do it now.
[Jennifer prepares to do so, setting her posture with shoulders thrown back to get her voice booming out from the diaphragm, all while Nico grins from his perch up on the dais, relishing the prospect. But Esposito puts a hand up quickly to stop her.]
PE: No, it’s not that. Or it’s not just that. You’re our representative out here, Jennifer. You’re the official front line representative of the Fighting Spirit promotion when you’re on the job as our ring announcer.
[Jennifer cocks her head sideways slightly, wondering what that self-evident statement means in practice, all while Ryan Martinez is carefully lowered from the ring to the aisle below, giving a thumbs up to the crowd so they know he’s going to be okay.]
PE: Jennifer, that entails certain official duties that you have to undertake, no matter whether you like the wrestlers you’re interacting with or not. That entails putting your personal feelings about some of your co-workers aside.
JTW: Look, I said I’d do it, and I will. I’ll announce Nico the winner. I’ll give him a big, professional, flowerly announcement. What’s the problem?
[Esposito pauses for just a moment, sensing he might get some resistance to what he’s about to say.]
PE: You need to do that, for sure. Then you need to get up to that dais, formally present him with the cup, and place a garland around his neck.
[There is a huge mixed pop at that, our fans not sure how to react! Nico is sure, though… his eyes light up with mischief, his mind instantly turning to what he can get up to with her hands so close to him, with how much he plans to enjoy her role in the presentation of his trophy. Jennifer, for her part, turns as white as a sheet at the prospect. And, without even thinking, she instantly responds with one word.]
JTW: No.
PE: I’m sorry?
[Nico, from up at the dais, is confused by her answer, and Leslie Ingraham standing off to the side – who’d just been trying to keep the peace the whole time and go along to get along – looks nervous. And Esposito has the look of a poker player who, whatever his cards, did not at all expect to be called.]
JTW: No. I won’t do it. I can’t. I just… I just can’t.
[Jennifer drops her microphone at the feet of Esposito and walks right past him, brushing him aside with one hand as he stands there, stunned. Nico Villanova is equally stunned, but the two thwarted men just stand and stare as Jennifer solemnly walks back up the aisle, looking at none of them, head held high as we fade to black.]
Finally, Akron sees the crowing of a REAL champion — unlike that pretender Lebron James… 😀