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Avarice vs Daemon Curtis (c) Conarri: Well, here we go folks; the moment that we've waited for. We've seen carnage, we've seen violence, and we've seen bloodshed. Styles: But no other bloodshed will be as important as that which we are about to see - one of two men - Avarice or Daemon Curtis will bleed. Stanton: Whichever does first will carry great repercussions, I'm more than sure, for both those two men and OLW as a whole. Conarri: Absolutely right, Leslie. Here it is - Avarice, "Destroyer of Worlds," holder of ten championships in his former life - as he calls it - including one half of the World Heavyweight Tag Team Championship - now facing his greatest challenge to date. Although possessing a nearly unblemished record for over a year, he is confronting a man who does not know the meaning of "back down," and will go to any lengths himself. Styles: We're talking about Daemon Curtis. The man with the pimp cane and leader of his faction has skill nearly unparalleled with an ego to match. He's held many championships and this is the jewel in his crown, and he will not give it up short of being broken in two. Stanton: Whoever wants it the most will be the winner. These two have taken each other to hell and back; we've seen a house knocked down, we've seen heads smashed into cars, we've already seen blood spilled. I don't know about you guys, but I think the time for talk is over. Conarri: [nodding] I couldn't agree more. Ladies and gentlemen - the main event. [The scene fades away and zooms in slowly to the vivacious Tracie Ferraro, who takes center stage once more. Her tone and tempo is foremost in her mind knowing the magnitude of what is to come. The fans assembled buzz in a quiet, monotone fashion.] [The bell rings three times, prior to her speaking.] Ferraro: Ladies and gentlemen - this is the MAIN EVENT, of OLW LINE TWO!!! RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! Ferraro: It is a FIRST BLOOD MATCH: whosoever bleeds first will be declared the loser, and the other will be declared the winner. There is no time limit, NO disqualification, and it is for, the undisputed Old Line Wrestling CHAMPIONSHIP! RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! Ferraro: Introducing first, the challenger. [The lights vanquish and a somber, bass voice of unknown origin sounds out.] Voice: Thus sayeth Mussolini: [a picture of "Il Duce" appears on the giant screen above the ring entrance, posturing and giving speech to the crowd ]"Blood alone moves the wheels of history." Tonight - the wheels of history [the image on the screen turns to one of Mussolini, defeated, dead, hanged by his feet with his mistress dead beside him] shall move once more. [Nine Inch Nails' "Dead Souls" begins. The slow drumbeat which pulsates onwards and onwards allows for introductions to continue, as the darkness is replaced by the deep knowing hue that all recognize as the mark of Avarice.] Ferraro: Introducing first. To be escorted to the ring by Her Grace the Duchess of Wessex, Marissah Whitely-Lancaster, PhD; from Wessex, England, now residing in Manhattan. Weighing 270 pounds - he is a member of the Unforgiven II…and he is the number one contender to the OLW Championship - he is the "Destroyer of Worlds"…AVARICE. [A mixed reaction from those who have bought into Avarice as "Evolution of Essence" and those who loath his aspirations to dictatorship at the expense of OLW and her fans.] [Emerging first is the Duchess, radiant, her hair flowing down in straight brunette strands, standing in the single red-beam spot light which shines on the entrance area. She is wearing a crimson red Nicole Miller taffeta dress: sleeveless, v-line neck, with banded bust tie bow on the back. The blood amulet hangs ominously around her neck as she stands with her hands on her hips and looks around. She steps away into the shadows with her black high heels and allows her man to emerge.] Styles: Gorgeous. Conarri: But evil. Stanton: The perfect mix. # Someone take these dreams away # [Avarice steps out into the red spotlight as the fans echo their sentiments louder than before. Behind him, a cascade of gold pyro sparks flood across the stage and rain down relentlessly. As it does, his head hangs low, and as always: there is about a day or so growth on his face. He wears black wrestling trunks, the upper hilt of a gold sword on the back, a single chain of mail link hanging on his waist. He keeps his long black leather gloves, studded with steel bolts, and his long black leather boots, fastened with three belts on each side. His pure silver Chain of Nobility remains: one of the only remnants of his past self. There is one stark difference: around his torso is a leather strap, and hanging within it, a long English broad sword.] # They keep calling me # Conarri: Look at what he's wearing… Styles: A symbol of his determination, I guess. Stanton: The man's going to war. # The figures from the past stand tall # [Avarice lifts his head and lets his piercing red eyes glare out to the world, as he stalks down the ringside area, leaving the showers of gold pyro to continually fall. No emotion, no expression. Sheer silence crosses his face as he enters the ring with the Duchess. Red spotlights begin to strobe in the ring as Avarice just examines the faces and signs that permeate the masses of people assembled to view the historic event at hand. He removes the sword and strap from his body and hands off his Chain of Nobility to his wife, who exits the ring.] # They keep calling me # [The lighting of the arena returns to normal as Avarice stands still, his eyes are focused on the entrance ramp.] Conarri: A look of intensity across the challenger's face. The impetus is on him tonight; the weight of the world is on his shoulders. Styles: Question is: can he carry it? Stanton: We're about to find out. Ferraro: AND his opponent. RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! # Okay, here we go # Conarri: Here comes the CHAMPION. [The arena lights dim to almost nothing as "The Whole World" by Outkast begins to play. Lights along the aisle light up enough to illuminate the image of Daemon Curtis walking from backstage wearing a pimp suit, tiger striped entirely. His robe is open, showing his bare muscular chest. His pimp hat also matches the suit, with a black feather in the side (to match his black wrestling boots).] Ferraro: Coming to the ring escorted by Amy Remington, from Buffalo, New York, he weighs in at 264 pounds. He is the leader of Minority Uprising. And he is, the UNDISPUTED OLD LINE WRESTLING CHAMPION…DAEMONNN CURTISSSSSSSS! # Yeah I'm afraid, like I'm scared as a dog # [A gold cane, which in actuality is steel with nice gold paint and a palm-sized Stallion’s head handle of solid steel, wields around as Daemon struts down the aisle. He stops after a few steps. Now coming from the back is Amy, dressed in a woman’s business-like outfit, black skirt halfway to her knees, dark nylons and high heels. Her black business coat is open, showing a white blouse buttoned just enough to not show everything, but almost.] Styles: I'd hate to have to choose between Amy and Marissah. Stanton: Lucky for them you don't have a choice. Conarri: In any case, the champion looking majestic and confident; cocky as ever. # See this is the way that we walk on a sunny, day # [Daemon starts to step slowly with the beat in sort of an odd way, smiling and using his cane a little sporadically before spinning around, almost hitting a couple of fans leaning on the grid-barrier. Amy carries a briefcase and seems like she’s strictly business, ignoring cat calls and boos.] # Cause the whole, world, loves it when you don't get down # [Daemon walks around the ring toward the announce table, Amy follows him. He then drops his robe, getting a cheap pop from any of his fans (mostly ghetto booty and thug wanna-be’s). He holds the middle rope down for Amy to enter the ring.] # Take a little trip, hater pack up yo' mind # Conarri: Daemon will not and has never backed down from a match, no matter what the circumstances. He's pushed greats to the limit and has beaten several of them; tonight will be no different. He's brash, he's young, he's got everything he's ever dreamed of, and he is one of the toughest sons of bitches in wrestling. [Daemon takes the OLW Championship into the ring and holds it in the air, looking over the crowd until his music cuts out, then going over to hold the ropes for her to leave the ring.] Conarri: Head referee Charlie Strembatel is going to have his hands full with this one tonight. Styles: His eyes will be the most important in the whole of the OLW tonight: whenever he sees blood, whoever he sees it from first, will be decisive. Stanton: I'd look for a lot of guile from either of these two men, especially if one gets busted open first. [Referee Strembatel motions for both men to step into the center of the ring for instructions. They lock eyes as Charlie motions his hands about explaining the rules of the match. The fans' buzz grows louder with anxiousness as Daemon Curtis hands off his championship belt to the referee. Strembatel holds the title aloft as camera flashes explode to capture a picture of the most coveted title in the former CAL.] [The bell sounds three times as the referee hands the title off to the time keeper.] Conarri: The war begins. FIRST BLOOD! Styles: Calm down Ceet you sound like a pirate…or some other blood thirsty individual. Stanton: *sigh* This is going to be a LONG match in more ways than one. [The two men walk up to each other and begin to exchange some words - heated ones at that. The fans are chomping at the bit and are already yelling loudly as Daemon Curtis lashes out with a vicious slap to Avarice's face.] OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH. Styles: That must be for destroying his child hood home. Stanton: I still think Avarice was doing him a favour. [Avarice keeps his head down momentarily, thinking of how to react but isn't given the courtesy as Curtis slaps him again, and then catching Avarice off guard, lays a knee into the Englishman's midsection, and then shoves him forward onto his backside, eliciting a huge reaction from the fans. Outside Marissah angrily pounds on the canvas, cursing out at Curtis; the latter simply turns and blows her a kiss.] Conarri: The Champion trying to play some mind games with Avarice. Stanton: Remington's going to get jealous. [The challenger shrugs it off and gets to his feet and the two go face-to-face once more. More words, more gesturing, until Avarice spits in Curtis' face.] OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH. Styles: Ew. [Curtis grins and wipes his cheek, but it is Avarice who takes the impetus and launches himself with a standing dropkick to Curtis' head. The Champion scrambles back up and is greeted with an arm drag, sending him across the ring. Curtis is quick to his feet once more and stands, breathing heavily, as does Avarice. He nods his head, the grin still on his face.] Conarri: This is going to get nasty, real quick. Stanton: Nastier perhaps. [With emotions running high the two finally enter a collar-elbow tie-up. The taller Curtis gets the advantage and wrenches in a standing arm-bar, rolling it tightly. Avarice tries to work his way out of it, but is hit with a stiff crescent kick to the chin.] Conarri: STIFF shot to Avarice's face, he has to really be careful. Stanton: You're right Ceet, the face is probably the most vulnerable part of the body to spill blood. Styles: I was just going to say that. [The Champion must have overheard as he immediately pounces on the downed challenger and begins working him over with stiff lefts and rights to the face; Curtis finally gets off realizing the limited effectiveness of this strategy.] Conarri: Curtis getting off top of Avarice, and now…he's got Avarice by the head, and he…tosses him outside!! Stanton: Thankfully Avarice has no hair; it'll make things more difficult. [The self-declared "Destroyer of Worlds" hits the outside hard, as Marissah runs over to check on her man. Daemon makes his way out however and wants to capitalize on the situation. Avarice pulls himself up with the ring barrier and is nailed with a stiff chop to the chest, followed by another. A fast right hand and Daemon turns to ram Avarice's head into the metal barrier. Avarice however anticipates and grabs the railing, before slamming Curtis' midsection with two hard elbows, following it up with a knee lift.] Conarri: Avarice escaping a potentially fatal situation with that series of moves, and he's back into the ring. Stanton: Smart thinking by Avarice, he's got to rebound from these early set backs. Styles: And Daemon's gotta lay into him more. [Avarice turns to see Curtis sliding back under the bottom rope, and swiftly attacks him with a double ax-handle to the head, catching Curtis off guard. The Champion moves himself along the bottom of the ropes but Avarice is still on him, now on his feet, sending hard boots to the back of his head, his ribs - anywhere he can slip his foot in. Curtis slows down enough for Avarice to reach down and pummel his foe with forearm shots.] Conarri: The challenger has Curtis dazed, Irish whip in - NICE high knee right to Curtis' face! [The referee immediately gets into position to check for crimson flowing - but finds none. Avarice reaches down and locks in an arm underneath the head of Curtis, as a small "Daemon" chant begins.] Conarri: Both men are hated by the crowd but Curtis may seem to be the lesser of two evils tonight. Stanton: And for tonight only. Styles: Avarice meanwhile trying to wear down Curtis with that hold; wear down holds in a First Blood match? Conarri: The men are wrestlers Styles. [The Englishman strains and puts all his weight forward, trying to exhaust Curtis' neck and cut off the circulation to his head and labour his breathing. Curtis moves his arm trying to shake it off, and slowly but surely gets to his feet. Avarice strains to keep the hold on but knows it is futile, and throws Curtis off; he rebounds off the ropes and is captured into a German suplex.] Conarri: Now that was smart. Avarice felt the hold was being lost and let it go without giving Curtis the chance to retaliate. [Avarice finds the ropes closest to him and sends himself off, and executes a knee drop, only to hit bare canvas. Marissah is displeased as Amy Remington looks on intently only to see Curtis back in form.] Conarri: Avarice with a missed knee drop…SPEAR from Curtis!! WHAT A MOVE! [Daemon yells and charges straight at Avarice, taking him down and knocking the wind out of him. Curtis grabs onto the leg which missed the knee drop and sinks in a half crab, turning the Englishman over.] Stanton: Another wear down move but this is a critical one and smartly done by Curtis; take the man's legs from out of him and you disable him. Styles: Avarice trying to reach the ropes but he's a few inches away from them. Marissah's really on his case. [Indeed, the Duchess of Wessex is almost leaning into the ring and yelling instructions at her husband who winces in pain due to the strength of Curtis' half crab. Avarice begins to move his leg violently in an attempt to send the Champion off - he eventually succeeds.] Conarri: Avarice with a mighty shout as Curtis loses his grip. He's charging back in! Styles: LOOK OUT! [Avarice deftly grabs the second rope and pulls it down, causing Curtis to tumble out and take a hard hit himself now on the back of his head. The fans front row stand to their feet to peer down at Curtis holding the back of his cranium.] Stanton: AVARICE get him! Conarri: You're supposed to be IMPARTIAL. Styles: I don't think she knows the meaning. [smack] OW. [The challenger does seek to capitalize as he gingerly places some weight on his leg, and goes towards the turnbuckles. He deftly climbs them and stands perched upon the top rope. The fans get to their feet.] Conarri: HIGH RISK TERRITORY…could be disastrous. Styles: Or it could pay off handsomely. Like me. [smack again] STOP THAT. [The fans are loudly chattering as Curtis does get to his feet, decidedly woozy. Amy Remington yells out warnings but Curtis is smashed head-first once more by another double ax handle, squarely to the forehead. Both men collapse onto the ground in a heap of destruction.] Conarri: IT CONNECTS!! RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! Styles: Is Curtis BLEEDING? [The camera crew hurries over to see Curtis grasping his head, but still, as he pulls his hands away, not one drop of blood yet.] Stanton: The match goes on. Come on, someone get a chair. Conarri: Les... Styles: And besides that's not as fun; I want to anticipate that first blood being spilled… [Fans at ringside encourage both men to get to their feet but both men definitely are feeling the impact from the top rope manoeuvre executed by Avarice. Avarice is first to stir as he grabs Curtis and throws him back in the ring. Avarice stalks back in, himself still a bit dazed and lurches forward to attack Curtis' leg, but is kicked off by the Champion.] Conarri: The Champion still having the presence of mind to defend himself. [Avarice hits the canvas back and charges in, but is tripped up by Curtis who seems to have recovered from the ax handle. Avarice back up again and is nailed with a kick to the midsection, then another one, sending the challenger back.] Conarri: Curtis reaches down and nails a perfectly executed suplex! Styles: Tempo of this match is starting to change. [Curtis breathing heavily pulls up Avarice and throws him into the ropes, and hits a superbly timed powerslam.] Stanton: BIG powerslam by Daemon Curtis; wearing him down before the blood flows. [The crowd starts to get behind Curtis somewhat as he drops a leg across Avarice's throat and begins to punch furiously at his face and particularly his nose as from earlier - however no blood spilled yet. Curtis is relentless as he hauls Avarice into the corner with a hard thud. Curtis catches him coming out with a stiff clothesline. Avarice slowly gets up now and is again thrown into the ropes.] Conarri: Samoan drop and Curtis is dominating Avarice again! [The Champion takes a breather and shakes his body a bit and points down at Avarice, taunting him to get to his feet.] RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! Conarri: What do you call that. Stanton: Arrogance. Styles: OR confidence. I prefer it that way. The man is the finest Champion in the CAL for a reason. [Curtis waltzes back in as Avarice has gotten to his knees - the latter of which reaches in with a low blow - the expression on Curtis' face instantly changes from one of glee to utter pain.] Conarri: CHEAP shot by the challenger, he must have been desperate for an exit there. Stanton: Little pay back I'd say for that taunt. Styles: I feel Curtis' pain. [Avarice winces as he swings Curtis around and connects with a swinging neck breaker. Marissah pounds on the outside and encourages Avarice on.] Avarice: SANGUINANS! Conarri: What's that mean? [Avarice reaches down and with sweat profusely coming from his brow, hits Curtis hard with two stiff European uppercuts. An Irish whip in lands Avarice a perfectly timed jumping calf kick squarely to Curtis' cranium. Both men hit the canvas and get up with equal speed. Avarice grabs Curtis from behind in a waist lock, which Curtis quickly reverses.] Conarri: Curtis not out of this one yet. Good reversal. Styles: I don't think either of them is out of it yet but they've got to be getting tired. Stanton: And once exhaustion sets in, the defences go down and THEN the body is most vulnerable to being cut open. Mmmmm. Conarri: You're sounding like Marissah. Stanton: Thanks Ceet! [Meanwhile, Curtis reaches back and tosses Avarice behind him from the front waist lock - but Avarice lands on his feet in an amazing show of prowess. He shoves Curtis from behind - Curtis stops in his tracks and ducks an attempted clothesline, and peppers Avarice's kidneys with stiff punches, and pulling on Avarice's trunks, lays in a few more knees, before cinching in and executing the back release German suplex he was going for in the first place.] Conarri: We're seeing excellent wrestling here - these two men are the best for a reason. Styles: But only one will be the best in the world at the close of this match. Stanton: Wow, insightful of you almost. [Curtis pulls Avarice's leg over to the corner and quickly hops out of the ring, and pulling on it tight, slings it around the ring post once, and then once more. Avarice tries to hold in his yells of agony as his face turns deeply red.] Conarri: CURTIS pulling out the stops here, trying to bang up that already damaged leg more! Stanton: Avarice's knee can't take much more of this, if he does, it'll be all over. [The Champion of OLW goes over to the timekeeper's table and shoos Tracie Ferraro out of the way - who quickly obliges. Curtis grabs the steel folding chair and runs over, takes a big swing and CRACKS Avarice's knee.] OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!! Conarri: THE CHAMPION swinging for the fences and NAILS Avarice's knee! [In the ring Avarice pulls himself out of the corner and pounds on the mat, cradling his knee cap, before falling totally silent and motionless. Curtis with a big smile on his face blows another kiss at Marissah's way, infuriating the PhD holder immensely as he walks up the ring steps calmly, and enters the ring, seeing Avarice's still frame.] Conarri: I think Curtis is beginning to smell blood. Styles: He can do it too with that chair. [The fans packed in the arena begin to grow louder still as Curtis walks over to Avarice's frame and nails a kick to the head, and then again. Avarice still does not move.] Stanton: He didn't pass out from the pain, did he? Styles: Possibly. Or shock. Most bodies don't take THAT much pain that well. [Curtis then walks over and slips Avarice's damaged knee-cap between the folds of the steel chair and follows it up by walking over to the corner and mounting the top rope.] Conarri: The Champion is trying to disable Avarice once and for all! [Curtis launches himself off with a flying elbow towards the chair - Avarice stirs immediately and moves out of the way.] THUDDDDDDDDDDDD! [Partisan Avarice fans explode with cheers as others boo fervently.] Stanton: Possum. Should've guessed. [Indeed Avarice played as such and with great difficulty, pulls the chair from off his leg and gingerly rises, holding the chair in hand. He crawls over and uses the ring ropes to gain verticality again, watching for Curtis to arise.] Conarri: This could be a turning point in this match. [Avarice patiently waits and fighting the pain as much as he can, runs in and swings for Curtis' head and yet immediately drops the chair, having missed, turns around and…] Conarri: DESTROYER OF WORLDS!! HE NAILED IT! THIS IS IT!! Stanton: I can't BELIEVE IT it… Styles: …almost looked like he missed hitting with the chair on purpose? Stanton: …exactly. [The challenger still feeling tremendous pain, ignores the chair and pulls up Curtis by the head, and with a strenuous hobble, drives Curtis' head into the turnbuckles in the corner. Avarice strikes Curtis with a knife edge chop and then a back elbow underneath the jaw. Avarice manages to get Curtis perched on the top turnbuckle, and with a shout, Avarice performs a superplex.] Conarri: SUPERPLEX! That'll take whatever wind is out from probably BOTH their sails. Styles: That move punishes both men. Stanton: Have to question Avarice's strategy. USE THE CHAIR! [The Englishman himself goes back up the ropes slowly after the superplex, and throwing caution to the wind, attempts an elbow drop of his own, which connects. Curtis' body rattles as Avarice, looking exhausted, now takes Stanton's advice and grabs the steel chair.] Conarri: This could be it THIS COULD BE IT! Stanton: Do it and let's go home so a man with class can take the title. [Avarice takes a slight breather as he motions for Curtis to get to his knees. Looking ten miles away, Curtis gets to his knees and Avarice holds the chair up, about to strike.] Marissah: LOOK! Conarri: Marissah screaming at him… Stanton: No wonder. Styles: Look at the stage. [The camera switches shots quickly to see Minority Uprising coming down the ramp - weapons in hand. The crowd begins to express their displeasure as Avarice turns to the ramp and walks to the edge of the ring, looking up at the encroaching threat.] Conarri: Minority Uprising isn't here to watch the match peaceably that's for damn sure. Stanton: Avarice isn't running though, he's motioning them to enter the ring. Styles: Brave…intelligent though? [The men exchange terse words when out of no where, three members of the Unforgiven II are seen pouring over the front railing surrounding the ring - Danny Vicious, YAZ, and Big D. They run over and confront Minority Uprising.] Styles: Tensions can't help but be spilled over sometimes, and this might just turn out to be an all out war! Stanton: I hope not I want to see which man will rule supreme. [Referees and officials however have no intention of letting the two factions go at it, much to the chagrin of the fans.] BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! [Avarice turns away and is met with a stiff kick to the midsection, followed by…] Conarri: WAIT! THE COFFIN SEALER!!! CURTIS OUT OF NOWHERE!! Styles: The damage is done even if there was no interference! Stanton: The pendulum swings back in Curtis' favour! [Curtis nails Avarice with his devastating manoeuvre, sending Avarice hard to the ground, but is near enough to the ropes that he rolls out of the ring and hits the outside. Curtis rolls out towards the time keeper's table again where his cane is kept.] Conarri: Weapons at play again it could seal Avarice's fate. Styles: That cane helped him defeat Freddy Phoenix. Avarice's name may be added to that list. Stanton: Both men have taken all they have…but I still fear the worst is yet to come. Conarri: Indeed Les, until one of them is bleeding, this match goes on. [Curtis stalks over to Avarice who is leaning tiredly against the steel ringside steps. The Champion charges over and aims squarely for Avarice's head.] Conarri: Curtis' cane EXPLODES into shatters as it smacked those steel steps! [The fans OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO collectively with gasps.] Styles: He almost OBLITERATED his skull! [Avarice slipped out of the path of the cane with a split second to spare. The Englishman reaches down and picks up one of the splinters of broken cane and swings at Curtis' stomach, which he dodges. Curtis lays a large boot to the head of Avarice and spins him around.] Conarri: CURTIS now grabbing Avarice up! [The fans get to their feet as Curtis backdrop suplexes Avarice into the steel ring steps; as he does Avarice takes the broken piece of cane in his hand and attempts to drive it into Curtis' head.] Conarri: IT CONNECTS!! Avarice's head just HIT the edge of the steps!! RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!! [Referee Charlie Strembatel calls for the bell as crimson begins to profusely pour out of…Curtis' forehead.] DING DING DING! Conarri: THAT'S IT! It's OVER! Styles: FIRST BLOOD!! Stanton: I can't believe it…Avarice was able to jam that shard DEEP into Curtis' skull - he's bleeding heavily into his eyes! Conarri: But look at Avarice's head, it too is split open from the impact of that backdrop suplex into the steel steps - but it's too late for Curtis! WE HAVE A NEW CHAMPION! [Strembatel hurries outside to grab the OLW Title as the two men lay stiff on the outside, and as Tracie Ferraro scurries into the ring, microphone in hand. Both managers also run over and tend to their respective men.] Ferraro: Ladies and gentlemen: FIRST BLOOD HAS BEEN STRUCK. The winner of this contest…and the NEW, UNDISPUTED OLD LINE WRESTLING CHAMPION…the "DESTROYER OF WORLDS," AVARICE! ["Dead Souls" explodes as the crowd celebrates and jeers the crowning of a new champion who has promised dictatorship, but give both men a standing ovation.] [Charlie Strembatel runs over to Avarice as Marissah motions for the title, which she is handed; she lets out a rapturous yell of joy as she holds it in the air, and tells her man to turn around. Avarice is nearly out of it and is on rubber legs as Marissah excitedly fastens the OLW Championship belt around his waist. He is still able to hold a single arm up in the air - with a clenched fist.] Conarri: Ladies and gentlemen, what a night! New Mid Atlantic Champion, new Trios Tag Team Champions, and Avarice is our new OLW Champion! The return of Catastrophic Chris Kline and Alex Constantine! Freddy Phoenix goes off the deep end! Fans, for Leslie Stanton and Steven Styles, I'm Cito Conarri, and we'll see you in two weeks, on OLW Outrage! Styles: PEACE BITCHES!
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CREDITS CSA vs Talent Enhancement - Matt |