Post by Jman2k3 on Nov 20, 2017 6:31:58 GMT
Skylar Montgomery vs. Scott Stevens
The lights in the arena go pitch black, as red lasers and spotlights light up the stage. The video screen lights up, a Texas flag flashes across the screen with the words “Texas Born, Texas Bred, Texas Forever.” branded into the flag. The crowd reaction is mixed, but there are more cheers than boos, as the opening guitar riffs and Hellraiser by Motorhead begins to play throughout the PA system.
Williams: Stevens is looking to rebound here in tonight's main event, after losing a well contested match up against Lisil Jackson at the last Proving Ground.
Fury: Well if one is in need of a rebound, this Montgomery is the perfect guy to be across the ring from.
The cheers intensify as the chorus hits the speakers, drawing out the man from Texas.
Announcer: Introducing at this time, coming to us from the Great State of Texas, by way of Houston, Texas.
Walking down the aisle, he fists bumps some of his fans while raising a fist at a few of the more vocal bashers.
Announcer: Standing at six feet, six inches, and weighing in at two hundred and fifty-six pounds...
As he finally gets to the ring, he climbs the nearest turnbuckle and stares out into the audience.
Announcer: This...is....SCOTTTTTTTTTTTTT STEEEEEEEEEEEVENSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!
An icy glare and the throat slash gesture are his only actions, as he steps down onto the mat, turning back to face the stage.
Williams: Stevens opponent, Skylar Montgomery is making his return to UTA, with hopes of this time sustaining a run in the company.
Fury: I hope he is one and done...
The infectious opening cry of Papa Roach's Last Resort serenades the arena as ‘Suicidal’ Skylar Montgomery steps out onto the stage, pushing a shopping cart filled with various items. The fans in attendance immediately erupt with hatred upon the sight of SkyMont.
Williams: Why in the world does he have a shopping cart full of potential weapons?
Fury: Oh, Dick doesn’t know. Maybe it’s because this guy CAN’T wrestle?
SkyMont walks down the ramp, pushing the cart that looks like he just raided a hardware store. The fans begin to toss whatever trash they can get their hands on,most of it being food scraps and drinks, but Montgomery seems to embrace the hatred. That is, until a soda explodes across his face, causing him to freak out.
Announcer: Hailing from London, England, Standing at 6 foot 1 inches and weighing in at 190 pounds...
Skylar keeps moving down the ramp, wiping away the excess syrupy liquid from his face. He continues to shout back at the crowd, who really love to hate this guy.
Announcer: SUICIDAL SKY-LAR MONT-GOM-ER-RRRRYYYYY!
As Last Resort cuts out, the referee is leaning against the ropes, shouting at Skylar that this isn't a ‘No DQ’ match. Ignoring the ref's instructions, he proceeds to remove the weapons from his shopping cart, tossing them one by one into the ring.
Williams: What is he doing?
Fury: Dick’s not sure HE knows what he is doing, Jennifer?
As the referee does his best to remove the weapons as they enter the ring, an amused Stevens stops the ref from removing the foreign objects. After a brief exchange, the ref shrugs his shoulders, before making his way over to the announcer.
Announcer: Ladies and Gentlemen, I've just been informed that tonight's main event, as requested and agreed upon by both competitors, has been made a no disqualification match!
The crowd erupts as the announcement is made, the idea of SkyMount possibly being throttled with weapons music to their ears.
Williams: Stevens with the 'ah screw it' moment, telling the ref to just go with it.
Fury: Dick's actually excited now! Maybe Stevens can do everyone a favor here...
The announcement is met with excitement from SkyMont. Eagerly sliding into the ring, he doesn't notice that Stevens already has one of the steel chairs he tossed into the ring. As soon as Montgomery is to his feet…
CRACK!
Williams: Oh my lord! What a vicious chair shot to the head.
Fury: YES!
DING! DING! DING!
Williams: The match is officially underway, as SkyMont, well…
Fury: Could possibly unconscious in the middle of the ring.
The fans erupt with enthusiasm as Stevens raises both arms in the air.
A rumbling begins in the crowd that soon becomes very clear…
THANK YOU STEVENS! CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP! THANK YOU STEVENS! CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP!
Stevens picks up the chair he dropped, and looks at the head sized dent in the seat of it. He raises it to the audience, who are still serenading him. He lays it back down onto the mat, walking over to SkyMont.
Williams: What is he doing? Why isn’t he pinning him?
Fury: Cockroaches don’t die that easy, Jennifer.
Stevens drags Montgomery over towards the mangled chair, who struggles to make it to his knees. Stevens shoves his head between his legs, grabbing onto the back of SkyMont’s pants, pulling him to his feet.
Williams: It looks like he is going for the Spike Piledriver finish on the steel chair!
Fury: Again, Dick says YES!
Williams: Hold on a minute…
Skylar drops down to one knee, simultaneously thrusting his right arm upwards between Stevens legs.
Williams: Low blow!
Fury: Dick felt that one.
Skymont scurries over to his pile of toys while Stevens is bent over, clutching his precious privates. Montgomery pounces to his feet, with a light tube in hand.
One swift thrust downwards and…
POP!
The mercury filled light tube explodes upon impact with Stevens back, who winces in obvious discomfort. Little shards are embedding into his flesh, as blood droplets begin to formulate.
Fury: Damnit Stevens!
SkyMont already has another fluorescent tube in his hand, lining Stevens up. As he stands more vertical, a sideways swing brings the tube crashing into Stevens rib cage.
POP!
Williams: Montgomery is thriving under the lack of rules.
Fury: It’s the only real shot he has inside a ring, to be honest.
More shards are embedded into Stevens flesh, more blood droplets emerge. Upon the explosion of the second tube, this time he lets out a small shout of pain. The fans who are moments removed from cheering, now boo loudly in unison.
Williams: Not again!
Fury: Dick wants to know why Stevens is just standing there?
A third in hand, SkyMont appears as if he could do this all day. He swings violently for a third time, and as the white glass is about to make contact with Stevens bare flesh yet again, he dodges the tube, avoiding the pop of it’s explosion.
Fury: Swing and a miss!
Montgomery’s momentum takes him spinning on spot in a three sixty, and upon finishing his full rotation, is taken off his feet with a clothesline across the throat. The light tube in hand flies across the ring, breaking as it hits the canvas.
Williams: Look at the look in Stevens eyes.
Fury: Hopefully he will pull the rag out now and get going with doing Dick and everyone else a solid.
Reaching down and grabbing onto the back waist of SkyMont’s pants, the angry Texan pulls him up with ease. As he reaches both feet, Stevens clutches his arms around Montgomery’s thin waist, and quickly snaps back onto the glass littered canvas.
Williams: Belly to back suplex onto all that broken glass!
SkyMont seems to oddly enjoy the glass pieces stuck in his back, while at the same time seeming to be slightly bothered by it. Stevens back to his feet, stalks his crawling opponent. As he starts to get up, Stevens quickly locks his arms up, again hoisting him up with ease.
Fury: Double underhook suplex!
Williams: Stevens looks hell bent on making SkyMont regret stepping into the ring with him.
Fury: That is all Dick wanted from Stevens.
Stevens stands tall and proud, as Skylar tries to get back to his feet. Finally getting up, he stumbles about, trying to shake the cobwebs free, before backing into Stevens. A quick club to the back of the head sends him leaning forward, and The Scorpion is quick to pull SkyMont’s right arm between his legs, followed by hooking the left.
Williams: Pumphandle slam! My goodness, Stevens is turning this into a suplex exhibition.
Fury: And every time Montgomery’s body hits the mat, even more glass makes it’s way inside him.
After three consecutive, hard hitting suplex variations, Stevens decides to drape himself over the battered hardcore wrestler. The referee drops down for the count.
1
.
.
2
.
.
KICKOUT!
At the last possible millisecond, Skylar is able to get a shoulder barely off the canvas. Stevens sheds the slightest smile, almost as if to welcome the idea of inflicting more punishment on this unusual opponent.
Fury: Dick is happy he kicked out. Dick isn’t ready to see this beating end yet.
Williams: Say what you will about SkyMont, you have to give him credit for his resiliency here.
Rolling over onto his stomach, Skylar pushes himself up to his hands and knees while Stevens has rolled through, bouncing up. While reaching down to grab onto Skylar’s mop, Skylar swipes his hand across the mat, collecting what glass he can palm. As he stands up, he pushes off Stevens to create distance, followed by tossing the glass into his face.
Williams: Stevens is down to a knee, violently trying to wipe away the shards near his eyes.
While Stevens struggles to avoid getting the glass in his eyes, SkyMont is already outside the ring, the apron lifted up and his head shoved underneath. After a few moments of rummaging about, he backs out with a table in tow, shoving it into the ring.
Williams: Things just keep escalating in this match.
Fury: How Stevens keeps letting Montgomery get back into this match baffles me.
Stevens is positioned into a corner, his eyes red, but he appears to have safely protected his vision. SkyMont pops up onto the apron, and as he pokes his head through the middle and top rope to try and enter, Stevens sprints forward….
THWACK!
Fury: Knee Trembler!
Williams: SkyMont crashes hard to the outside.
Skylar flies backwards off the apron, landing on top of his near empty shopping cart, tipping it over in the process. Stevens is quick to grab onto the table now in the ring, wedging it vertically in the corner.
As he rolls out of the ring, the crowd has begun another chant.
WE WANT TABLES! CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP! WE WANT TABLES! CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP!
Williams: The crowd is really getting into this.
Fury: They want tables, Dick wants SkyMont to never show his face again.
Williams: Well you're going to have to get used to him Dick, after all, he was drafted to Victory.
Fury: WHAT!?
Stevens rolls SkyMont into the ring, and pops up onto the apron. As he splits the ropes and enters the ring, he is quickly met with a hard forearm smash from Montgomery. As Stevens staggers backwards into the ropes, he rebounds forward with…
Fury: Clothesline!
Williams: He ducked out of the way.
SkyMont flows through behind Stevens, and like a parasite, attaches himself onto Stevens back, locking in an illegal, but now legal, chokehold.
Williams: Stevens is struggling.
Fury: DAMNIT STEVENS!
SkyMont wraps his legs around Stevens waist, and puts everything he has into choking Stevens. His face going red, out of desperation Stevens stumbles backwards, slamming Montgomery into the corner turnbuckles.
Williams: SkyMont is not letting go!
Stevens walks forward to the center of the ring, and glances over to his right, noticing the table he has wedged in its corner. The light bulb turns bright, and Stevens runs backwards as fast as he can with intention of driving himself and Montgomery through the table.
CRASH!
Williams: SkyMont bailed out at the last second! Stevens crashes hard through the table.
Fury: How is this match still going on!?
Laying on top of the shattered pieces of lumber that once was a table, Stevens is positioned uncomfortable in the corner. SkyMont is quick begin stomping on Stevens chest, every thrust downward sucking what air Stevens has in his lungs out. Abandoning the onslaught, Montgomery pulls Stevens out by his right leg, quickly pouncing on the fallen Texan.
1
.
.
2
.
.
KICKOUT!
Williams: Stevens gets the shoulder up!
Fury: Dick isn’t a fan of SkyMont, but Dick is slightly impressed he is still alive in this match…
Skylar is quick to his feet, and is just as quick to the corner. Climbing up top, he turns himself around, facing Stevens, who is slowly making his way vertical.
Williams: SkyMont is known for his high risk, high reward maneuvers.
Fury: There usually is very little reward to such moves…
Stevens to his feet now, turns around to a 190 pounder flying in his direction. With cat like reflexes, Stevens snatches him out of the air, firmly locking his grip on a now flailing SkyMont.
Williams: What strength by Stevens!
Fury: Dick told you so…
The fans cheer as an intense Stevens marches around the ring with SkyMont gripped horizontally across his chest. The dented chair that lay in the center of the ring catches his attention, and he points down to it as the fans cheers grow.
Williams: I wonder what he has in mind here?
Fury: Hopefully something painful.
With much ease, Stevens pops SkyMont up onto his shoulder, not giving him any chance to break the strong grip he has on his midsection. Backing into the corner, Montgomery throws body blows that do nothing to deter Stevens intentions. Letting out a roar to the crowd, Stevens runs forward before snapping SkyMont through…
Williams: What a running bodyslam onto that chair!
Fury: Very painful! Dick approves!
Stevens is up, playing up the crowd who applaud in unanimous approval. SkyMont screams out in pain as his back is arched, his limbs locked up, pressing through the mat. Turning his attention back to SkyMont, Stevens stares down at his battered opponent.
Williams: I’m sensing Stevens could be looking to lock this one up now.
Fury: Not yet! More Stevens! MORE!
Like a lethal predator, Stevens circles his prey who slowly makes his way to his feet. As Montgomery stands up, his back arched as a result of the prior slam, his back is to Stevens. Stevens, uses his left foot to position the Steel chair in between them, as SkyMont slowly turns around…
Williams: TOXIC STING!
Fury: ON THE CHAIR! Thank You Stevens, Dick’s good now.
Stevens rolls Montgomery on his back, laying on top of him with a forearm resting across his jaw.
1
.
.
2
.
.
3!
DING! DING! DING!
The crowd erupts as the referees hand slaps the mat for the third time. The intensity of their cheers could be a love of Stevens, a hatred for Montgomery, or a combination of the two. Regardless, they are clearly happy with the outcome as Stevens stands in the middle of the ring, hands raised victorious.
Announcer: The winner of this match by way of pinfall, SCOTTTTTTTTTTTTT STEEEEEEEEEEEVENSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!
Williams: Stevens with a big victory tonight to close out Proving Ground.
Fury: I wouldn’t say big victory so much as, well, just a victory I suppose.
Williams: It wasn’t a technical showcase by any means, but it was a very entertaining, hard hitting contest.
Fury: And if it’s the last time Dick saw SkyMont, Dick would be happy to remember him this way.
As Scott Stevens celebrates the copyright comes up and we fade to black.
The lights in the arena go pitch black, as red lasers and spotlights light up the stage. The video screen lights up, a Texas flag flashes across the screen with the words “Texas Born, Texas Bred, Texas Forever.” branded into the flag. The crowd reaction is mixed, but there are more cheers than boos, as the opening guitar riffs and Hellraiser by Motorhead begins to play throughout the PA system.
Williams: Stevens is looking to rebound here in tonight's main event, after losing a well contested match up against Lisil Jackson at the last Proving Ground.
Fury: Well if one is in need of a rebound, this Montgomery is the perfect guy to be across the ring from.
The cheers intensify as the chorus hits the speakers, drawing out the man from Texas.
Announcer: Introducing at this time, coming to us from the Great State of Texas, by way of Houston, Texas.
Walking down the aisle, he fists bumps some of his fans while raising a fist at a few of the more vocal bashers.
Announcer: Standing at six feet, six inches, and weighing in at two hundred and fifty-six pounds...
As he finally gets to the ring, he climbs the nearest turnbuckle and stares out into the audience.
Announcer: This...is....SCOTTTTTTTTTTTTT STEEEEEEEEEEEVENSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!
An icy glare and the throat slash gesture are his only actions, as he steps down onto the mat, turning back to face the stage.
Williams: Stevens opponent, Skylar Montgomery is making his return to UTA, with hopes of this time sustaining a run in the company.
Fury: I hope he is one and done...
The infectious opening cry of Papa Roach's Last Resort serenades the arena as ‘Suicidal’ Skylar Montgomery steps out onto the stage, pushing a shopping cart filled with various items. The fans in attendance immediately erupt with hatred upon the sight of SkyMont.
Williams: Why in the world does he have a shopping cart full of potential weapons?
Fury: Oh, Dick doesn’t know. Maybe it’s because this guy CAN’T wrestle?
SkyMont walks down the ramp, pushing the cart that looks like he just raided a hardware store. The fans begin to toss whatever trash they can get their hands on,most of it being food scraps and drinks, but Montgomery seems to embrace the hatred. That is, until a soda explodes across his face, causing him to freak out.
Announcer: Hailing from London, England, Standing at 6 foot 1 inches and weighing in at 190 pounds...
Skylar keeps moving down the ramp, wiping away the excess syrupy liquid from his face. He continues to shout back at the crowd, who really love to hate this guy.
Announcer: SUICIDAL SKY-LAR MONT-GOM-ER-RRRRYYYYY!
As Last Resort cuts out, the referee is leaning against the ropes, shouting at Skylar that this isn't a ‘No DQ’ match. Ignoring the ref's instructions, he proceeds to remove the weapons from his shopping cart, tossing them one by one into the ring.
Williams: What is he doing?
Fury: Dick’s not sure HE knows what he is doing, Jennifer?
As the referee does his best to remove the weapons as they enter the ring, an amused Stevens stops the ref from removing the foreign objects. After a brief exchange, the ref shrugs his shoulders, before making his way over to the announcer.
Announcer: Ladies and Gentlemen, I've just been informed that tonight's main event, as requested and agreed upon by both competitors, has been made a no disqualification match!
The crowd erupts as the announcement is made, the idea of SkyMount possibly being throttled with weapons music to their ears.
Williams: Stevens with the 'ah screw it' moment, telling the ref to just go with it.
Fury: Dick's actually excited now! Maybe Stevens can do everyone a favor here...
The announcement is met with excitement from SkyMont. Eagerly sliding into the ring, he doesn't notice that Stevens already has one of the steel chairs he tossed into the ring. As soon as Montgomery is to his feet…
CRACK!
Williams: Oh my lord! What a vicious chair shot to the head.
Fury: YES!
DING! DING! DING!
Williams: The match is officially underway, as SkyMont, well…
Fury: Could possibly unconscious in the middle of the ring.
The fans erupt with enthusiasm as Stevens raises both arms in the air.
A rumbling begins in the crowd that soon becomes very clear…
THANK YOU STEVENS! CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP! THANK YOU STEVENS! CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP!
Stevens picks up the chair he dropped, and looks at the head sized dent in the seat of it. He raises it to the audience, who are still serenading him. He lays it back down onto the mat, walking over to SkyMont.
Williams: What is he doing? Why isn’t he pinning him?
Fury: Cockroaches don’t die that easy, Jennifer.
Stevens drags Montgomery over towards the mangled chair, who struggles to make it to his knees. Stevens shoves his head between his legs, grabbing onto the back of SkyMont’s pants, pulling him to his feet.
Williams: It looks like he is going for the Spike Piledriver finish on the steel chair!
Fury: Again, Dick says YES!
Williams: Hold on a minute…
Skylar drops down to one knee, simultaneously thrusting his right arm upwards between Stevens legs.
Williams: Low blow!
Fury: Dick felt that one.
Skymont scurries over to his pile of toys while Stevens is bent over, clutching his precious privates. Montgomery pounces to his feet, with a light tube in hand.
One swift thrust downwards and…
POP!
The mercury filled light tube explodes upon impact with Stevens back, who winces in obvious discomfort. Little shards are embedding into his flesh, as blood droplets begin to formulate.
Fury: Damnit Stevens!
SkyMont already has another fluorescent tube in his hand, lining Stevens up. As he stands more vertical, a sideways swing brings the tube crashing into Stevens rib cage.
POP!
Williams: Montgomery is thriving under the lack of rules.
Fury: It’s the only real shot he has inside a ring, to be honest.
More shards are embedded into Stevens flesh, more blood droplets emerge. Upon the explosion of the second tube, this time he lets out a small shout of pain. The fans who are moments removed from cheering, now boo loudly in unison.
Williams: Not again!
Fury: Dick wants to know why Stevens is just standing there?
A third in hand, SkyMont appears as if he could do this all day. He swings violently for a third time, and as the white glass is about to make contact with Stevens bare flesh yet again, he dodges the tube, avoiding the pop of it’s explosion.
Fury: Swing and a miss!
Montgomery’s momentum takes him spinning on spot in a three sixty, and upon finishing his full rotation, is taken off his feet with a clothesline across the throat. The light tube in hand flies across the ring, breaking as it hits the canvas.
Williams: Look at the look in Stevens eyes.
Fury: Hopefully he will pull the rag out now and get going with doing Dick and everyone else a solid.
Reaching down and grabbing onto the back waist of SkyMont’s pants, the angry Texan pulls him up with ease. As he reaches both feet, Stevens clutches his arms around Montgomery’s thin waist, and quickly snaps back onto the glass littered canvas.
Williams: Belly to back suplex onto all that broken glass!
SkyMont seems to oddly enjoy the glass pieces stuck in his back, while at the same time seeming to be slightly bothered by it. Stevens back to his feet, stalks his crawling opponent. As he starts to get up, Stevens quickly locks his arms up, again hoisting him up with ease.
Fury: Double underhook suplex!
Williams: Stevens looks hell bent on making SkyMont regret stepping into the ring with him.
Fury: That is all Dick wanted from Stevens.
Stevens stands tall and proud, as Skylar tries to get back to his feet. Finally getting up, he stumbles about, trying to shake the cobwebs free, before backing into Stevens. A quick club to the back of the head sends him leaning forward, and The Scorpion is quick to pull SkyMont’s right arm between his legs, followed by hooking the left.
Williams: Pumphandle slam! My goodness, Stevens is turning this into a suplex exhibition.
Fury: And every time Montgomery’s body hits the mat, even more glass makes it’s way inside him.
After three consecutive, hard hitting suplex variations, Stevens decides to drape himself over the battered hardcore wrestler. The referee drops down for the count.
1
.
.
2
.
.
KICKOUT!
At the last possible millisecond, Skylar is able to get a shoulder barely off the canvas. Stevens sheds the slightest smile, almost as if to welcome the idea of inflicting more punishment on this unusual opponent.
Fury: Dick is happy he kicked out. Dick isn’t ready to see this beating end yet.
Williams: Say what you will about SkyMont, you have to give him credit for his resiliency here.
Rolling over onto his stomach, Skylar pushes himself up to his hands and knees while Stevens has rolled through, bouncing up. While reaching down to grab onto Skylar’s mop, Skylar swipes his hand across the mat, collecting what glass he can palm. As he stands up, he pushes off Stevens to create distance, followed by tossing the glass into his face.
Williams: Stevens is down to a knee, violently trying to wipe away the shards near his eyes.
While Stevens struggles to avoid getting the glass in his eyes, SkyMont is already outside the ring, the apron lifted up and his head shoved underneath. After a few moments of rummaging about, he backs out with a table in tow, shoving it into the ring.
Williams: Things just keep escalating in this match.
Fury: How Stevens keeps letting Montgomery get back into this match baffles me.
Stevens is positioned into a corner, his eyes red, but he appears to have safely protected his vision. SkyMont pops up onto the apron, and as he pokes his head through the middle and top rope to try and enter, Stevens sprints forward….
THWACK!
Fury: Knee Trembler!
Williams: SkyMont crashes hard to the outside.
Skylar flies backwards off the apron, landing on top of his near empty shopping cart, tipping it over in the process. Stevens is quick to grab onto the table now in the ring, wedging it vertically in the corner.
As he rolls out of the ring, the crowd has begun another chant.
WE WANT TABLES! CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP! WE WANT TABLES! CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP!
Williams: The crowd is really getting into this.
Fury: They want tables, Dick wants SkyMont to never show his face again.
Williams: Well you're going to have to get used to him Dick, after all, he was drafted to Victory.
Fury: WHAT!?
Stevens rolls SkyMont into the ring, and pops up onto the apron. As he splits the ropes and enters the ring, he is quickly met with a hard forearm smash from Montgomery. As Stevens staggers backwards into the ropes, he rebounds forward with…
Fury: Clothesline!
Williams: He ducked out of the way.
SkyMont flows through behind Stevens, and like a parasite, attaches himself onto Stevens back, locking in an illegal, but now legal, chokehold.
Williams: Stevens is struggling.
Fury: DAMNIT STEVENS!
SkyMont wraps his legs around Stevens waist, and puts everything he has into choking Stevens. His face going red, out of desperation Stevens stumbles backwards, slamming Montgomery into the corner turnbuckles.
Williams: SkyMont is not letting go!
Stevens walks forward to the center of the ring, and glances over to his right, noticing the table he has wedged in its corner. The light bulb turns bright, and Stevens runs backwards as fast as he can with intention of driving himself and Montgomery through the table.
CRASH!
Williams: SkyMont bailed out at the last second! Stevens crashes hard through the table.
Fury: How is this match still going on!?
Laying on top of the shattered pieces of lumber that once was a table, Stevens is positioned uncomfortable in the corner. SkyMont is quick begin stomping on Stevens chest, every thrust downward sucking what air Stevens has in his lungs out. Abandoning the onslaught, Montgomery pulls Stevens out by his right leg, quickly pouncing on the fallen Texan.
1
.
.
2
.
.
KICKOUT!
Williams: Stevens gets the shoulder up!
Fury: Dick isn’t a fan of SkyMont, but Dick is slightly impressed he is still alive in this match…
Skylar is quick to his feet, and is just as quick to the corner. Climbing up top, he turns himself around, facing Stevens, who is slowly making his way vertical.
Williams: SkyMont is known for his high risk, high reward maneuvers.
Fury: There usually is very little reward to such moves…
Stevens to his feet now, turns around to a 190 pounder flying in his direction. With cat like reflexes, Stevens snatches him out of the air, firmly locking his grip on a now flailing SkyMont.
Williams: What strength by Stevens!
Fury: Dick told you so…
The fans cheer as an intense Stevens marches around the ring with SkyMont gripped horizontally across his chest. The dented chair that lay in the center of the ring catches his attention, and he points down to it as the fans cheers grow.
Williams: I wonder what he has in mind here?
Fury: Hopefully something painful.
With much ease, Stevens pops SkyMont up onto his shoulder, not giving him any chance to break the strong grip he has on his midsection. Backing into the corner, Montgomery throws body blows that do nothing to deter Stevens intentions. Letting out a roar to the crowd, Stevens runs forward before snapping SkyMont through…
Williams: What a running bodyslam onto that chair!
Fury: Very painful! Dick approves!
Stevens is up, playing up the crowd who applaud in unanimous approval. SkyMont screams out in pain as his back is arched, his limbs locked up, pressing through the mat. Turning his attention back to SkyMont, Stevens stares down at his battered opponent.
Williams: I’m sensing Stevens could be looking to lock this one up now.
Fury: Not yet! More Stevens! MORE!
Like a lethal predator, Stevens circles his prey who slowly makes his way to his feet. As Montgomery stands up, his back arched as a result of the prior slam, his back is to Stevens. Stevens, uses his left foot to position the Steel chair in between them, as SkyMont slowly turns around…
Williams: TOXIC STING!
Fury: ON THE CHAIR! Thank You Stevens, Dick’s good now.
Stevens rolls Montgomery on his back, laying on top of him with a forearm resting across his jaw.
1
.
.
2
.
.
3!
DING! DING! DING!
The crowd erupts as the referees hand slaps the mat for the third time. The intensity of their cheers could be a love of Stevens, a hatred for Montgomery, or a combination of the two. Regardless, they are clearly happy with the outcome as Stevens stands in the middle of the ring, hands raised victorious.
Announcer: The winner of this match by way of pinfall, SCOTTTTTTTTTTTTT STEEEEEEEEEEEVENSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!
Williams: Stevens with a big victory tonight to close out Proving Ground.
Fury: I wouldn’t say big victory so much as, well, just a victory I suppose.
Williams: It wasn’t a technical showcase by any means, but it was a very entertaining, hard hitting contest.
Fury: And if it’s the last time Dick saw SkyMont, Dick would be happy to remember him this way.
As Scott Stevens celebrates the copyright comes up and we fade to black.