Chaos 30

[Jman2k3]

Chaos 030
Event Date: April 30, 2023

Back to ringside here in the American Airlines Center in Dallas, Texas. The fans are rowdy and ready for more action tonight as we pan over to the announcer’s table. Hall of Famers Joe Hoffman and Benny Newell stand by to call the action.

Joe Hoffman: It’s time for our second match of the evening here on Chaos 030 and it’s tag team action!

Benny Newell: Tag team action implies that the other two men in this match even stand a chance. The Final Alliance is going to do to Conor Fuse and Scott Stevens what the NFL does to the Broncos every single year.

Joe Hoffman: Dont you mean the Cowboys since we are in Dallas?

Benny Newell: Come on Joe…that fruit cant get any lower…I am talking about the DENVER BRONCOS…..HOLEE FUCK they suck.

Joe shakes his head as Benny chuckles and taunts some of the fans in attendance.

Joe Hoffman: Let’s send it to the ring where Bryan McVay is ready to make the introductions.

The camera pans to the center of the ring where Bryan McVay stands alongside senior referee Matt Boettcher. McVay clears his throat and lifts the microphone up to his lips.

Bryan McVay: Our next contest is a tag team match and it’s scheduled for one fall.

The crowd here in Dallas pops knowing they are about to get more action inside the ring.

Bryan McVay: Introducing first…

The lights go black as the sound of bells is heard throughout the arena. The High Octane Vision comes to life as images begin to appear.



Shattered murals.

An abandoned church falling apart.

A field of tombstones.

The Book of Best with the Cross of Best being driven through it with blood pouring down it.



The blood pours down to form the words…



THE… DEMI… GOD… OF… H… O…W



The crowd knows who is about to walk out and they are letting him know it by chanting his favorite chant as the video screen goes black.



“FUCK YOU, STEVENS!” Clap x5



The wait is finally over as a spotlight shines toward the top of the entrance ramp as “O FORTUNA EXCALIBUR REMIX” by Apotheosis begins to play. Scott Stevens appears from behind the curtain wearing a black duster trench coat, a black Stetson hat, and his trademark 97red colored circular sunglasses.

Bryan McVay: Introducing! From The Great State of Texas!!!

Massive pop from the fans here tonight.

Bryan McVay: Weighing in at 256 lbs. He is the “Demi-God of HOW!” SCOTT! STEEEEEEEVEEEEEEEENS!

Joe Hoffman: Did you just hear that crowd reaction for Scott Stevens?!

Benny Newell: Those fans are cheering because McVay said the word Texas. It has absolutely fuck all to do with Stevens. Don’t get it twisted.

Stevens’ 97red circular sunglasses glisten in the light and his usual devilish grin is replaced by a look of pure joy about being back in his home start. Stevens gets the crowd hyped up before he begins to slowly walk toward the ring.

Joe Hoffman: Last week, Scott Stevens and Michael Lee Best were both attacked by the 4th Wahl before being thrown into the HOFC cage. Stevens fought valiantly but ended up losing to the ten-time former HOW World Champion.

Benny Newell: Stevens has been eating knees, tampons, and L’s from the moment he ever stepped foot into HOW. Yet, this delusional NERD thinks he’s the leader of the team at War Games and that being here in Dallas is going to help him achieve anything other than embarrassment.

Once he reaches the nearest set of ring steps, he climbs up and wipes his feet on the apron. Once inside, Stevens plays to the crowd one more time before throwing up the Longhorns. The Demi-God takes off his coat and tosses it outside. He begins to slowly take off his Stetson, before taking off his sunglasses to reveal that red eye. Stevens places the glasses and hands that outside also.

Bryan McVay: And his tag team partner…

BLOODY TEARS from Castlevania II begins to play. A purple mist floods the entranceway as “The Vintage” Conor Fuse emerges from behind the apron 23-seconds into the theme. He stands at the top of the rampway, head down, sporting a dark purple jacket with its high-collar raised. The jacket is open, showing his vintage SNES tights as he slowly raises his head. The fog continues to pump from the stage as Fuse methodically makes his way down the ramp.

Bryan McVay: From Toronto, Ontario, Canada. Weighing in tonight at 210 lbs. He is “The Vintage” CONOR! FUSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSEEEEEEEE!

The crowd starts a “!RANK” chant, pointing in Conor’s direction as he marches towards ringside. Once in front of the squared circle, The Vintage leaps onto the apron and then with ease clears the ropes by jumping over them and somersaulting into the middle of the ring.

Joe Hoffman: Conor Fuse hasn’t held Championship gold here in HOW since last year’s War Games match. The former HOW World Champion has another chance to break through the armor that is The Final Alliance in Mexico and perhaps walk away as the new HOW World Champion.

Benny Newell: Even this Canadian NERD knows that shit ain’t happening. Conor admitted he isn’t motivated for this tag team match. Well fucking duh. You’re about to get your ass handed to you by STRONK Daddy and the #1 Wrestler in HOW. All Fuse has in the form of help is Scott Stevens, which is basically like bringing a rubber knife to a gunfight.

Fuse tilts his head back and Zen cries into the rafters while the fans in attendance continue to cheer him on. Stevens loosens up in the corner as Conor removes his trench coat, revealing his trademarked light purple arm sleeve on his left arm. Fuse and Stevens bump fists as McVay speaks into the microphone.

Bryan McVay: And their opponents…

The lights in the arena go down as “STRONKER” by FLAV RILLE begins to play. Michael Oliver Best walks out on stage with his cane in one hand and a handkerchief in the other. MOB uses the cloth to cover his nose and mouth, already disgusted with the foul odor that only Texas can produce. STRONK GODSON walks out onto the stage behind him carrying his barbed wire ladder over his shoulder.

Bryan McVay: Introducing first… currently residing in his ‘Sky House’ in Chicago, Illinois. Weighing in tonight at 290 lbs. Representing The Final Alliance. He is “The King of Stallions” STRONK! GODDDDDDSSSSSSSSONNNNNN!

The fans pop for his arrival—promiscuous women and drunk and disorderly men, especially. MOB points down to the ring and gives STRONK a few orders through the cloth. STRONK nods his head before he walks down to the ring. MOB follows behind the mountain of muscle looking judgingly at the so-called fans in attendance.

Joe Hoffman: The last time we saw STRONK Godson in action he was defeating Scott Stevens in the middle of the ring. He went after Stevens’ red eye but the LSD Champion came to save Stevens. Or rather, reason with STRONK but that only lead to him having the life squeeze out of him. Courtesy of the Body Dysmorphia hold, where STRONK had barbed wire wrapped around his arms.

Benny Newell: Stop it, Joe. I can only get so erect. It was one of the most glorious things I’ve ever witnessed. STRONK was just moments away from popping that Pirate King NERD like a zip. I can’t wait until Godson wins his company back. But for now? I’m going to enjoy watching him beat Scott Stevens for what feels like the billionth time.

STRONK places his ladder at ringside and just before stomping up the ring steps, grabs ahold of his ‘STRONK AF’ sleeveless tee shirt and rips it from his body with startling ease. STRONK enters the ring, while MOB takes his place at in Godson’s corner at ringside.

Bryan McVay: And his partner…

The beginning of “THIS MEANS WAR” by Avenged Sevenfold thumps from the sound system as the crowd explodes into a fury of boos and hisses. A montage of Steve Solex plays on the HOV, flashing on and off in rhythm with the music. As the music stalls, the HOV goes black and the lights throughout the arena go dark.

Bryan McVay: From Huntington Beach, California. Weighing in tonight at 275 lbs. Representing The Final Alliance, The #1 ranked wrestler in HOW. He is “The MERCDAD” STEVE! SOOOOOOOLEXXXXXXXX!!!

A bomb-like explosion blasts at the top of the entryway sending a plume of smoke up and in front of the HOV in the shape of a mushroom cloud. At that moment the music returns and Steve Solex makes his way out from behind the curtain. The montage continues to play on the HOV as Solex stops atop the entrance ramp and pounds his chest twice with a white-knuckled fist before throwing his hands high up into the air.

Joe Hoffman: Steve Solex is a Captain of his own War Games team this year thanks to being the #1 ranked wrestler in HOW here in 2023. Solex and STRONK make a lethal combination, both here tonight and at War Games. However, I’m not sure how well Solex will be able to Captain a team that also has Joe Bergman, Darin Zion, and possibly Brian Hollywood.

Benny Newell: Steve Solex is a man of discipline and action. He’s the only person on the roster that will be able to whip NERDS into fighting shape for War Games. Just like he and STRONK Daddy are going to steamroll through Scott Stevens and Conor Fuse here in a few moments.

He soaks in the boos from the crowd before marching down to the ring. No glitz, no high fives, just a fast-paced march and the look of a cold-blooded killer. He slides under the bottom rope and stares down the referee before finding his corner next to STRONK. McVay exits the ring as Boettcher checks with both teams. Once everyone is ready, he calls for the bell to officially start this match.

DING DING DING

Conor decides to start the match for his team. Solex convinces STRONK to let him start out for The Final Alliance team. Both Fuse and Solex circle each other in the center of the ring before locking up. At 275 lbs. Solex uses his clear strength advantage to shove Fuse down onto his ass. Solex points and laughs at Fuse before screaming the word NERD at him. The crowd boos loudly but Fuse gets back up to his feet. Solex raises his arm into the air and challenges Fuse to a test of strength which brings more hatred from the crowd. Conor slowly raises his arm into the air and closes the distance between him and Solex. Just when it looks like the two will lock fingers, Fuse fires a boot to the midsection. Solex catches Conor’s boot but Fuse leaps and hits Solex with an enzigiuri kick to the back of the head that floors him.

Joe Hoffman: Solex tried to embarrass Conor by showing off his strength but Fuse regained himself and rocked the #1 ranked wrestler in HOW with that kick to the back of the head.

Benny Newell: No way a single kick from Fuse NERD floored Solex. Bittcher needs to check his boots for foreign objects!

Joe Hoffman: There is nothing in his boots but his feet.

Benny Newell: He’s Canadian, those are still considered foreign objects. Disqualify him!

Solex gets back up to his feet and charges at Fuse but Conor catches him and hits him with a sit-down hip toss. Solex angrily gets back up to his feet again but Conor is quicker than him. As Solex turns around Fuse hits him with a combination of superkicks that sends Solex reeling back into the opponent’s corner. Conor comes over and starts to lay in Doom Stomps to Solex in the corner as the fans cheer wildly. Boettcher makes Fuse back away from the corner but with the referee’s back turned, Stevens sneaks in a shot of his own on Solex. Slowly, Solex uses the ropes to pull himself back up to his feet. Conor charges and then slides under Solex and the bottom rope hitting the MERCDAD with a running release German suplex down to the canvas. The crowd is loving it as Conor leaps back up to the ring apron. Conor turns and looks at his partner before slapping him across the back.

WEAPON GET!!!

The crowd explodes as Conor leaps over the top rope into the ring. He stalks around Solex as he pulls himself back up to a vertical base. Solex tries to steady himself but Fuse charges. Conor leaps into the air and then brings Solex down to the canvas hard.

Joe Hoffman: TOXIC STING BY CONOR FUSE TO STEVE SOLEX!

Benny Newell: HE PICKED SCOTT STEVENS OF ALL PEOPLE TO STEAL A MOVE FROM?!?!

The cutter brings Solex down to the canvas but Conor doesn’t make the cover. He pulls himself back up to his feet before leaping into the air once again. Conor hits Solex with a standing sky twister press across the chest. Fuse hooks the leg and makes the cover on Solex as Boettcher slides in for the count.

Matt Boettcher: ONE

Matt Boettcher: TWO

Matt Boettcher: THR–

KICK OUT BY SOLEX!

Joe Hoffman: That was nearly an upset in record time. Fuse used Weapon Get to hit Solex with Stevens’ Toxic Sting followed by a standing sky twister press. However, Solex was too big and too strong to stay down for the three.

Benny Newell: Did you really think that Swolex would allow himself to be beaten by a move used by NERD Stevens? Fuse is going to try and throw the kitchen sink at these guys from the jump hoping to walk away with a cheap win but it’s not going to happen.

Conor gets back up to his feet as Solex rolls out of the ring to the outside. Solex gets to his feet and shakes his head from the assault he just suffered. Conor gets a running start inside the ring and then leaps into the ropes. Fuse hits Solex with a reckless suicide dive that knocks him off of his feet. Conor gets up to his feet and then grabs a hold of Solex before rolling him back into the ring. Conor slides back in and gets up to his feet but Stevens reaches and tags himself into the match.

Joe Hoffman: Conor was on a roll but Stevens just tagged himself into the match.

Benny Newell: Stevens gonna Stevens.

Stevens steps into the ring and says something about being a good Captain of his team. Conor just smiles and steps to the outside of the ring. Stevens charges at Solex but Solex cuts him with a stiff knee to the midsection that doubles him over. Solex grabs a hold of Stevens by the waist and then hits him with a gut-wrench powerbomb down to the canvas. Solex staggers back to his corner and makes the tag into STRONK.

Benny Newell: Now we’re talking!

Joe Hoffman: Godson has been tagged into this match and that means Scott Stevens is in trouble.

Godson steps through the ropes and enters the ring as Stevens pulls himself back up to his feet. STRONK stands there and looks curiously at Scott Stevens who uses the time to begin to recover. Godson takes a step closer to Stevens while still having a confused expression on his face. Stevens puts up to his feet ready for whatever Godson has to throw at him but STRONK offers his hand out to Stevens.

STRONK: ME STRONK, STRONK IS NEARLY 300 LBS. AGAIN. WHO ARE YOU?

Stevens raises his eyebrow as on the outside of the ring Michael Oliver Best has a conniption fit. He begins stomping and yelling at STRONK as Solex can’t believe what he’s thinking.

Joe Hoffman: Godson just offered his hand to Stevens. He doesn’t remember who Scott Stevens is!

Benny Newell: That’s because Scott Stevens is very forgettable! Someone really needs to reboot STRONK Daddy’s brain, it’s still running Windows dare I say….97?

Stevens shakes STRONK’s hand but then plants a boot to the midsection of Godson that doubles him over. Stevens grabs a hold of Godson and hits him with a snap DDT down to the canvas hard. Stevens gets back to his feet and then whips Godson hit into a neutral corner. Stevens gets a running start and then hits STRONK with a Stinger Splash in the corner. Stevens grabs a hold of the top rope and begins stomping a mudhole in STRONK and walking it dry as the crowd goes wild for the Texas native. Stevens continues to stomp away until Solex enters the ring and clobbers him from behind. Stevens hits the canvas hard as Boettcher forces Solex back to his corner. STRONK pulls himself back up to his feet and grabs a hold of Stevens. STRONK lifts Stevens into the air and drops him with a backdrop driver down to the canvas. STRONK gets up to his feet and then makes the tag into Solex.

Joe Hoffman: Tag and now Solex is the legal man once again.

Solex enters the ring as Steven uses the ropes to pull himself back up to his feet. Stevens tries to go to his corner but Solex hits him with a side Russian leg sweep that takes him down to the canvas. Solex gets up to his feet and begins stomping Stevens right in the face. Solex grabs Stevens by the hair and then shoves his head between his legs. Solex lifts Stevens into the air and then spikes him with a piledriver. Solex pulls himself back up to his feet and yells for Stevens to get up to his feet. The Texas crowd boos loudly at Solex disrespecting one of their own. Stevens begins to pull himself up to his feet but Solex plants a boot to the midsection. Solex grabs a hold of Stevens and…

Benny Newell: SOLEXECUTION! And that’s all she wrote, The Final Alliance wins again!

Solex connects with the stunner that causes Stevens to fold down the canvas. Solex rolls Stevens onto his back and then makes the cover as Boettcher slides in.

Matt Boettcher: ONE

Matt Boettcher: TWO

Matt Boettcher: THRE–

NO!

Joe Hoffman: Conor Fuse broke up the count before the three!

Benny Newell: That NERD just doesn’t know when to give up!

Boettcher forces Conor back up to his corner as Solex gets back up to his feet. Solex points and barks at Fuse as Stevens begins to stir. Solex turns around and then grabs hold of Stevens. He pulls him back up a vertical base before whipping him into the ropes but Stevens reverses the whip. Solex bounces off the ropes but Stevens catches him and connects with the Double S Spinebuster. The crowd pops as the ring shakes from impact. Both Stevens and Solex are down as Boettcher begins a ten count.

Joe Hoffman: Stevens brought himself some precious recovery time with that spinebuster. However, he needs to make it to the corner and tag in Conor.

Benny Newell: I can believe these stupid Dallas fans are actually cheering for Scott Stevens. Being fans of the Cowboys is bad enough but I guess they just are fond of things that suck.

Stevens begins to move towards his corner but Solex starts to do the same thing. Stevens leaps and makes the tag into Conor. Fuse leaps over the top rope and goes after Solex who is still crawling toward his corner. Solex reaches out but Conor is fast and cuts Solex off before he can reach STRONK. Fuse gives Solex a kick to the side of the head that sends him rolling back toward the center of the ring. STRONK takes a swipe at Conor but Fuse moves far too quickly. Conor moves forward and then hits Solex with a rolling thunder splash down across the sternum. Conor gets back up to his feet and then races toward the ropes. Fuse leaps to the middle rope and goes for a Lionsault but Solex gets his knees up. Conor crashes and burns, completely stopping his momentum. Solex gets back up to his feet and then grabs Fuse by the hair. Solex shoves Conor’s head between his legs and then motions to the crowd.

Benny Newell: Solex is done playing games with these fools. It’s time to put an end to this once and for all!

Joe Hoffman: Solex has Conor has a compromising position but I wouldn’t count out the resiliency of the former HOW World Champion!

Solex grabs a hold of Conor by the waist and then hoists him into the air. However, Conor begins laying in stiff forearm shots to the head of Solex who begins to stagger from the shots. Fuse twists his body around and then hits Solex with a poisonrana down to the canvas. Conor gets back up to his feet as Solex begins to grab a hold of the ropes. Solex pulls himself up and turns but Conor charges and hits Solex with a spinning slingblade down to the canvas. Fuse gets back up to his feet and then climbs to the middle rope in the corner. Conor stands there as Solex fights his way up off the canvas. Fuse leaps and then spikes Solex down to the canvas with a Canadian Destroyer. The crowd pops as Conor hooks the leg and makes the cover on Solex.

Matt Boettcher: ONE

Matt Boettcher: TWO

Matt Boettcher: THREE!!!

NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! SOLEX GOT HIS SHOULDER OFF THE CANVAS BEFORE THE THREE!!!

Joe Hoffman: I think that might have seen Conor Fuse do a Canadian Destroyer from the second rope but it was almost enough to defeat the #1 ranked wrestler in HOW!

Benny Newell: Of course, the Maple Syrup-sucking NERD resorts to foreign flippy shit to try and take down the last man in wrestling. No way a proud American like Solex will ever lose to something Canadian!

Conor gets up to his feet then goes to his corner and makes the tag into Scott Stevens. Conor races across the ring as Stevens steps through the ropes. Fuse leaps to the top rope in one motion and then hits STRONK with a missile dropkick to the face that knocks him off the ring apron down to the floor. The crowd goes nuts for the insane move as Solex gets back up to his feet. Stevens grabs a hold of Solex then takes him down to the canvas and locks in Total Submission To The Demi-God Of HOW. The crowd is electric as Stevens cranks back on the crossface submission. Boettcher drops down and asks Solex if he wants to submit but Solex refuses.

Joe Hoffman: Can you imagine the ovation from this crowd if Scott Stevens manages to make Steve Solex right here in Texas?!

Benny Newell: Someone that has served this great country would never submit! Stevens will find a way to Stevens!

On the outside of the ring, Conor rushes at STRONK and leaps but Godson catches Fuse in his massive arms. STRONK runs Conor spine first into the edge of the ring apron. Fuse falls to the arena floor in pain as STRONK flexes. Inside of the ring, Solex slowly begins to crawl toward the ropes but Stevens keeps yanking back on the hold. Stevens yells for Solex to tap but the MERCDAD would rather die than tap out to Scott Stevens. On the outside of the ring, Conor begins to crawl on his hands and knees toward the barbed wire-wrapped ladder. Fuse grabs a hold of it and starts to pull himself up to his feet. STRONK charges with a full head of steam looking to crush Fuse but Conor sidesteps and Godson collides with the barbed wire ladder hard. STRONK hits the arena floor like a ton of bricks as Fuse begins to set up the ladder.

Joe Hoffman: STRONK just collided with that monstrosity of a ladder hard. Solex is moments away from tapping out and Fuse is climbing to the top of that ladder!

Benny Newell: Solex will never tap out! But this is sheer madness. It’s like NERD Bizzaro world! Get it together! You can’t let Papa Best down like this just weeks before War Games!!!

Fuse makes it to the top of the ladder as STRONK slowly begins to pull himself back to his feet. Inside the ring, Solex raises his hand into the air looking like he’s about to tap out from the pain but he begins punching himself in the head repeatedly. Once he’s forced the pain out of his mind, Solex continues to crawl for the ropes. On the outside, Conor leaps off the top of the ladder and takes STRONK down with a modified Phoenix Splash. The building comes unglued.

HOLEE SHIT!!! HOLEE SHIT!!! HOLEE SHIT!!!

Joe Hoffman: Conor Fuse just threw his body around like a lethal weapon and took out Godson on the outside of the ring! Michael Oliver Best is beside himself right now!!!

The roar from the crowd makes Stevens pulls back even harder on the submission hold. However, with a last-ditch effort, Steve Solex manages to grab a hold of the bottom rope with his free hand. Boettcher gets to his feet and begins a five count for Stevens to release the hold.

Benny Newell: OH THANK LEE, SOLEX DIDN’T TAP! HE MADE IT TO THE ROPES, GET STEVENS OFF OF HIM, BITTCHER!!!

Stevens releases the hold at 4.999997 and then pulls himself up to his feet. Stevens takes a moment to access what has happened on the outside of the ring before turning his attention back to Solex. Stevens grabs Solex by his glorious beard and pulls him off the canvas. Stevens shoves Solex’s head between his legs and then throws up the Longhorns once again for the fans here in Texas. Stevens grabs a hold of Solex by the waist and then goes to lift him into the air.

Joe Hoffman: Stevens is going for Game Changer. If he hits this, then it’s all over!

Benny Newell: No, absolutely fucking not! I refuse to believe we’re about to witness a Texas miracle!

Stevens gets Solex halfway up but Solex kicks his feet and drops his center of gravity. Solex’s feet hit the canvas but Stevens tries to muscle him up once again. Solex manages to counter by hitting Stevens with a big back body drop down to the canvas. With both men down, Boettcher starts another ten count. On the outside of the ring, Conor Fuse pulls himself back up to his feet. Conor sees both Stevens and Solex down inside the ring and heads toward it. But out of nowhere, MOB cuts him off. Lee Best’s brother begins to verbally assault Conor Fuse as Boettcher continues to count. Conor rears back like he’s going to punch MOB but something or rather someone grabs his arm.

Joe Hoffman: HOW IS HE STANDING SO SOON?!

Benny Newell: YOU THOUGHT FLIPPY SHIT WAS ENOUGH TO TAKE OUT A NEAR 300 POUNDER?!

Conor turns his head and sees STRONK behind him. Before Fuse can react, STRONK flings him sideways into the barricade hard. MOB points up to the ring where Solex and Stevens are struggling to get to their feet. STRONK marches up the steel ring steps and stands in his corner as Stevens gets to his feet first. Stevens stalks around Solex who isn’t far behind him. As Solex turns around Stevens leaps into the air.

Joe Hoffman: TOXIC STING!

Benny Newell: NO! HE COUNTERED IT!

Having been hit with it by Fuse earlier in the match, it allows Solex to see it coming and shove Stevens into the ropes. Stevens bounces off the ropes but Solex nearly decapitates him with The Clothesline From Heck. Stevens gets turned inside out before crashing down to the canvas. Solex staggers over to his corner and makes the tag into STRONK.

Joe Hoffman: Solex could have pinned Stevens right there but he’s decided to tag in Godson.

Benny Newell: Those that oppose The Final Alliance must suffer, Hoffhole.

STRONK steps through the ropes and stomps his way over toward Stevens. Godson grabs a hold of Stevens and pulls him up to a vertical base before locking in The Loop Hold. Conor pulls himself up and sees Stevens in trouble. Fuse dashes toward the ring but once again someone stops him.

Joe Hoffman: THE LSD CHAMPION IS HERE IN DALLAS! HE’S HOPPED THE BARRICADE AND STOPPED CONOR FUSE FROM GETTING BACK INTO THE RING!!!

Benny Newell: NERDS! NERDS every Lee-damn where! Fucking Texas, fucking NERDS!

Davidson spins Fuse around and begins telling him something. Conor is completely confused as to what Jace is saying and why he is here. Conor shakes his head and then turns back toward the ring. Conor slides halfway under the bottom rope but it’s too late. Scott Stevens is tapping out.

DING DING DING!!!

Bryan McVay: Here are your winners… the team of STEEEEEVEEE SOOOOLEXXXXXX & STRONKKKKKK GODSONNNNNNNNN!!!

Solex enters the ring and celebrates with Godson. Stevens lays almost lifeless on the canvas. Jace grabs a hold of Fuse and continues talking to him. The LSD Champion points into the ring and begins to speak with a lot more emphasis to Fuse. Jace slaps his hand down on Conor’s shoulder and then points his index finger at the former HOW World Champion. Jace lets go of Fuse and then hops back over the barricade and disappears into the audience.

Joe Hoffman: Of all the things that could happen here tonight, I didn’t expect Jace Parker Davidson to show up here during this match and start to plead with Conor Fuse. I have no idea what he was saying to Conor but it definitely left Fuse confused and distracted.

Benny Newell: Jace inserting himself into a match…HOLEE SHIT…color me surprised. Fuse looks like a weak ass NERD by not punching Jace right in the fucking eye. In the end the only thing that matters as STRONK Daddy made The Lonesome Loser NERD tap out and The Final Alliance is victorious. I told you that Steve Solex makes a great Captain!

Conor looks on at both Solex and STRONK inside of the ring. He runs his fingers through his hair but then heads back up to the ramp mumbling to himself as we cut away from ringside.
A Sad Encounter

We cut backstage where we see Clay Byrd walking through a hallway in the back of the American Airlines Center. He has jeans on and a loose fitting shirt, with a duffle bag slung over his shoulder that he holds in place with his right hand on the strap. Clay ignores the people he passes, not giving them any of his attention as they stare at the big Texan walking by.

After a few moments he approaches a door. His name is on a temporary faceplate, which he looks at briefly, then opens the door with his free hand.

Walking in, he stops in his tracks.

Sitting on the bench in front of a wide locker space is Dan Ryan. He’s sitting still, hands clasped in front of him and stares at Clay.

Dan Ryan: You’re not an easy guy to get some face time with.

Clay steps fully in the room, shutting the door behind him, but doesn’t respond. Dan frowns slightly, finally standing up as Clay takes a few more steps into the room.

Dan Ryan: At ease, man. I’m not here to fight or cause any trouble. But I do think we at least need to come to an understanding.

Dan turns slightly, sitting back down and gestures to a spot toward the other end of the bench. Clay narrows his eyes, not impressed or particularly interested. Dan sneers back at him.

Dan Ryan: For God’s sake, Clay, take a seat. Jesus.

Clay looks up, somewhat exasperated, then tosses his bag to the floor and sits down, shaking his head, not buying it.

Dan Ryan: Our first real interaction at ICONIC… I’m sorry about that. It wasn’t personal. I know everyone always says that, but I promise you, it wasn’t.

Clay Byrd: I’m sure Dan, I’m sure it wasn’t personal… Nothin’ ‘bout takin’ the greatest moment in a man’s life away from him, just screams ‘it wasn’t fuckin’ personal.’

Dan Ryan: You don’t have to trust me, man. I would be surprised if you did. But I’ll tell you one thing right now. I don’t like losing. I’m not stupid. I know what you can do out there, but we’ve got to be on the same page. We’re up against people that will rip us to shreds if we’re not working together. That bit you in the ass with the Highwaymen. I’m not gonna let that happen to us. We might be on opposing sides when this is over, but right now, we have to get this done.

Clay Byrd: Ya don’t think I know already? Ya don’t think I know that we have ta work together. That I have to trust you, and fucking Jatt?

Clay scoots over closer to Dan, snarling.

Clay Byrd: Just go tell yer little friend Evan Ward ta get ready, this time I ain’t walkin’ away when Lee’s little foot clan comes runnin’. Gonna put that boy into a coma.

Dan stands up, slowly walking toward the door, then stops there and turns around.

Dan Ryan: Just think about it. I’ve got a match to prepare for. Oh and uh… welcome home.

Clay Byrd: Ya can thank me when we get ta War Games.

Without another word he opens the door and leaves as we cut elsewhere.
HOW's the Neck?

The show cuts backstage to find the Hall of Famer and Ward Games team captain, Evan Ward, striding into his dressing room to prepare for his upcoming match against Clay Byrd. He throws his duffle bag onto the bench and then closes the door behind him. For some reason it doesn’t close properly. This annoys Evan so he slams it but that doesn’t seem to help.

Evan Ward: WHY. WON’T. YOU. CLOSE. YOU. BASTARD!

Every punctuation point is a slam or kick to the door or shoulder barge to try to close the mischievous door. Frustrated, Evan finally decides to open the door and see what the problem was. It turned out to be less of a what and more of a who.

Evan Ward: Oh, hey, Scott, how’s the foot…better yet…how is the fucking neck? Saw STRONK made your bitch ass tap out.

Scott Stevens shoves his way into the room now grabbing his neck instinctively at the mere mention of STRONK and his LOOP HOLD finisher.

Scott Stevens: Fuck off, Ward.

Evan Ward: Me fuck off? I know you’ve only got one eye, but you know this is my locker room, right? Are you sure you put your patch on the right eye today? Look, I’ve got a match with Clyd to get ready for but I’m sure, after I humiliate him in the ring tonight, he’ll let you go cry with him and share the saddest Texas handjob in the world.

Scott Stevens: Har. Har. Har. Keep making jokes while you can, kid.

Evan Ward: Oh, I will. All the way to Ward Games. You know I’m a captain, right? Top dog, big cheese, guy calling the shots. You… not so much, what with being a last round pick. I’d ask how it feels being a peon for once, but I bet you’re used to it by now.

Scott Stevens: Ward Games?

Stevens lets out a loud sigh.

Scott Stevens: The most unoriginal fucking thing. Tell me Ward, how long did it take you to come up with that? I’m sure it came to you when you were taking a shit because it’s full of shit just like you.

Ward and Scott get face to face.

Scott Stevens: Besides, you’re a captain of nothing, Ward. Aceldama doesn’t trust you, he’ll sooner kill you than follow your orders after what you did to him last week… And America? He hates all you foreign scum and he knows you’ve got your eyes on his World Championship, he knows you’re going to stab him in the back. And who the fuck is Charles de Lacy?

Evan shakes his head and sighs, putting a hand on Scott’s shoulder.

Evan Ward: You’re right, Scott, you’re so right, thank you. I never thought of it like that before… Who even is Charlie der Lucy? What even is Chunky de Lazy? I mean, really, why is Luke de Chasey? WHEN IS HE GOING TO DO SOMETHING, SCOTT?!

Stevens angrily shrugs Evan’s hand off his shoulder and shoves him out of this face. Ward giggles to himself.

Evan Ward: Dude, seriously, spend less time wagging that jaw of yours and spend more time worrying about your own team. I mean, apart from beating the snot out of you guys, what even is Mike doing, huh? You gotta make sure Scottywood’s stitches stay in, you don’t want his leg falling off mid match, that would suck. Hey, and what about Fuse, when’s he going to stop snacking on the cheetos and put that controller down to train a little? Dude fucking needs it. I’m sure you’ll get on with Jace in the match, though, you could do this double team move where you take Clyd’s double-ended dildo and stick it in both your eye sockets to hit a super gross clothesline.

Stevens starts to get chuckle at Ward’s irreverent mocking.

Scott Stevens: Me? Worry about my team?

Scott Stevens: My team hates the Final Alliance and we hate you the most Evan. You see, Mr. “Third Generation Superstar” when you get in that cage you’ll be on your own, none of your team members will have your back. Hell, I bet most of them will take the chance to knock that smirk off your ugly face, you annoying little shit. I know your Alliance fuckbuddies on Byrd and Solex’ teams will be jumping at the chance to break you in two. Everyone hates you, Ward.

Ward bursts into laughter.

Evan Ward: They hate me? Haha, good one, Scotty, why would any of those cunty motherfuckers hate me?

Scott Stevens: I don’t know…..maybe it’s because you’re a gutless douchebag?

Stevens shrugs before continuing.

Scott Stevens: Maybe it’s because you took a shit on the things you used to believe in and sold your soul to a man that will replace you at the drop of a dime.

Stevens bends down so he’s eye level with Ward.

Scott Stevens: Tell me, how’s Rhys these days?

Ward looks at the Texan confused.

Evan Ward: Fuck knows, I haven’t talked to him in years, why? Are you looking for a job on his Taco stand?

Scott Stevens: No reason, I’m sure he’ll be getting a phone call eventually because a best alliance always needs a member of Ground Zero to complete it, and we all know he’s the preferred choice and you’re the duff of the group.

Ward glares at him.

Scott Stevens: Looks like I touched a nerve.

Stevens begins to chuckle while Ward continues to glare, before seeming to snap out of it.

Evan Ward: Sorry, I was lost just trying to figure out if you were deluded into actually believing that or just projecting because you’re always remembered as a worse member than Hollywood. You were worse than Christopher Diamond, Scott, Christopher fucking Diamond!

Stevens sneers at Ward.

Scott Stevens: Dick. Anyway, you must be a fool to think Aceldama will even let you get to the ring after what you pulled?

Evan frowns in concentration.

Evan Ward: Hmm, ya know, I have no idea. Why don’t we ask him? Hey, Ace, how’s it hanging?

The camera moves around to see Aceldama standing in the doorway behind Scott Stevens, looking very angry as he stared a hole through the back of the Texan’s head.

Aceldama: Everything ok here, boss?

Stevens mouths the words boss before shaking his head.

Evan Ward: All good, here, Ace. Right, Stevens?

The Texan looks towards Ace and then back to Ward and leans in for Ward’s ears only.

Scott Stevens: You won’t be able to hide behind your whipping boy at War Games.

Scott pats Ward on the shoulder before turning to leave but stops by Aceldama, who is carrying the dragon statue which was left by him when he was beaten down a few weeks ago.

Scott Stevens: Since when did you start taking orders and become Ward’s little bitch?

Aceldama just smiles angrily and shoves the dragon into Stevens’ chest.

Aceldama: You can have this back. I know what you did to me, you better watch your back.

Stevens smirks.

Scott Stevens: And make sure Dan Ryan is available to have yours.

Stevens pushes his way out of the locker room, smashing the dragon statue on the hall’s wall as he goes leaving the two Ward Games team members who are seemingly back on the same page to discuss strategy as we head to a commercial break.

Epic Sadness

Back live and The Behemoth steps out of his locker room, right into a HOTv camera. The crowd in the American Airlines Center once again erupts into cheers. Clay, in full ring gear, snarls and walks down the hallway. Brian Bare follows at a generous distance, making sure to keep the cameraman between him and Clay.

Brian Bare: Clay, why did you attack Evan Ward!?

The Monster from Plainview gives no answer as he continues his

Brian Bare: Clay, why were you talking to Dan Ryan earlier?

Bare and the camera crew continue to follow Byrd through the bowels of the American Airlines Center, he continues onwards, picking up a small group of backstage personnel and EPU following him.

Brian Bare: Clay, do you have anything you want to say to Evan Ward before you walk through the curtain!?

The Behemoth stops. He turns towards Bare, his snarl slowly becoming a twisted, devious smile.

Clay Byrd: Yeah, tell that son of a bitch and these wonderful Texan’s that I’m sorry I never got to make it out there tonight. I beat a cokehead, junkie, reporter to death with my hands and never made it out there…

Bare takes another five or six steps backwards as Clay stares a hole through him. Finally, satisfied he turns to continue his march to the gorilla position. As he turns, The Behemoth is startled.

Nettie: Creeper!

Nettie shouts at The Behemoth as he almost stepped right through her.

Clay Byrd: I think yer meanin’ ‘sorry sir.’

Nettie, raises an eyebrow looking at Byrd.

Nettie: In your delusional cowboy dreams.

Nettie scoffs.

Nettie: Hometown and not in the Main Event. Not surprising… captain.

Nettie smirks.

Clay Byrd: Who the fuck cares, I get what I want. I’m going to smear Evan Ward all over the canvas out there in about a minute…

Nettie looks over at her nails picking at the dirt on it, ignoring most of Clay’s words.

Nettie: That’s the type of attitude that doesn’t win War Games.

Clay smirks back.

Clay Byrd: But ‘nough ‘bout me, ol’ Danny came ta see me ta try ta get me on the same page before his match. And I ain’t no friend of Dan’s. So, take that title, but make sure ya leave ‘nough of him ta drag himself out there in Mexico City.

Nettie: One thing I don’t need is someone telling other me how to get the job done. I’ve won War Games before and the main belt. Taking your own advice may work. As for leaving any of him left? I’m not a fan of charity work. Whatever happens to him isn’t my concern.

Clay smiles.

Clay Byrd: Well ya do yer own thing, and I’ll do mine. Gotta run, got a War Games Cap’n to leave in a fuckin’ crater.

Clay tips his cowboy hat, while maneuvering around Nettie and starting his walk to the ring.

Nettie: Weird ass giants great…

Nettie just shakes her head as we cut back to ringside.
#10 Clay Byrd vs. #NR Evan Ward

Joe Hoffman: Welcome back ladies and gentlemen where we have a powder keg waiting to explode. We have the 2022 Wrestler of the Year, and one of the War Games captains, Clay Byrd…..

Benny Newell: Clydmydia.

Joe Hoffman: Taking on Hall of Famer, and another captain of War Games…..

Benny Newell: (coughs)

Joe Hoffman: (sigh) correction, the captain of Ward Games.

Benny Newell: Put some respect on Ward’s name Hoffman.

Joe Hoffman: These two individuals have had a war of words since Evan Ward has returned and the Monster of Plainview hasn’t been fond of Ward’s comments about his dedication or lack of it to competing in HOW.

Benny Newell: Who the fuck cares what crybaby Clyd thinks Hoffman? The truth hurts and Evan is just speaking it. Not his fault the Vagina from Plainview got Brokeback Booty Hurt by wrestling three matches in 2023.

Joe Hoffman: I think it’s more than that Benny.

Benny Newell: I’ve fucked more whores this week than Clyd Byrd has been on HOTv.

Guitar and harmonica begin to blare through the arena, the start of “Gunning For You” by Nick Nolan sends a silence across the crowd as Nick Nolan’s lyrics echo through the arena.

My Gun is loaded its getting time

Two shots of whiskey i’m takin’ what’s mine

Ain’t what you’re sayin it’s what you do

Your time has come boy i’m Gunnin for You

When hell is rainin down you’ll see my face won’t hear a sound

You’ll feel that bullet burnin through

Take your last breath boy

I’m Gunnin for You

Red letters slash across the screen as “BYRD” is spelled out. Clay appears through fog on the entrance ramp, cowboy hat low over his eyes, a long black duster on and a rope in his hand.

Bryan McVay: Introducing, from Plainview, TX and weighing in at 295 lbs….he is THE MONSTER OF PLAINVIEW! CLAY! BYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYRDDDDDDDDDDD!!!

There’s desperation deep in your eyes

No turnin back now no compromise

Cause only one of us walks out that door

The other bleedin out on the floor

Clay begins his slow walk down the ramp.

Joe Hoffman: Listen to this crowd for the hometown hero.

Crowd: CLAY! CLAY! CLAY!

Benny Newell: God, I hate Texas. You know there is only two things from Texas.

Joe Hoffman: Don’t start…..

Benny Newell: Idiots and more idiots!

Clay’s eyes are fixed on the ring, and he trudges on. Not paying any notice to any of the fans in attendance. Clay walks up the steps, and climbs into the ring before making his way to his corner and stretching out on the ropes waiting for his opponent as the lights fade out.

Benny Newell: WARD GAMES TIME HOFFMAN!

Strobes hit the stage as “Collective Consciousness” builds up over the speakers. Evan Ward walks out onto stage and raises his hands, slowly turning around to let the booing crowd soak in his awesomeness. The HOV lights up with an effect laden video package of the most high impact and extreme moments from Evan‘s classic matches. As the lyrics hit, he strides down the ramp.

The unenlightened masses
They cannot make the judgment call
Give up free will forever
Their voices won’t be heard at all

Bryan McVay: And his opponent, making his way to the ring, hailing from Hay-on-Wye, Wales, weighing in at 215lbs… He is a HOW Hall Of Famer, the self-proclaimed most awesome athlete to ever step into the ring, and the lead captain for Ward Games…..he is EVAN WAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRD!

Crowd: FUCK YOU WARD! FUCK YOU WARD! FUCK YOU WARD!

Joe Hoffman: Evan Ward not winning many fans here in the Lonestar State.

Benny Newell: Texas Nerds are the fucking worse. All that come from this cesspool should drink bleach and play in traffic.

Joe Hoffman: So what about Dan Ryan?

Benny Newell: What?

Joe Hoffman: He’s a Texan?

Benny Newell: He’s an adopted Texan because he’s the only winner they can claim but we all know he resides in Parts Unknown.

Display obedience
While never stepping out of line
And blindly swear allegiance
Let your country control your mind

As Evan walks around the ring, he welcomes the negative attention from the crowd and riles them up even further with his smug attitude. He hops onto the apron and faces the crowd, throwing a fist in the air.

Live in ignorance
And purchase your happiness
When blood and sweat is the real cost
Thinking ceases, the truth is lost
Don’t you worry
You’ll be told exactly what to do
I give my people the lives they need
The righteous will succeed

Evan slingshots himself over the top rope with a twisting flip, landing on his feet in time with the lyrics shouting “The righteous will succeed!” as he throws his arms up powerfully. He poses in the ring for a moment before taking to his corner while the music fades away as Hortega calls for the bell.

Ding. Ding. Ding.

Joe Hoffman: And here we go…….

Ward and Clay come out of their respective corners and make their way towards center ring.

Joe Hoffman: You can tell the size difference between the two as Clay is the taller and larger athlete.

Benny Newell: Oh yeah?!?!?!? Clyd may be bigger, but Ward is quicker and smarter. Flippy shit for life Hoffman. FOR LIFE!

Ward and Byrd don’t move and stare daggers into one another as you can cut the tension between the two War Games captains with a knife.

Crowd: CLAY’S GONNA KILL YOU! CLAY’S GONNA KILL YOU! CLAY’S GONNA KILL YOU!

Benny Newell: These idiots need to kill themselves. Ward is a third-generation superstar so that means he’s three times better than Clyd.

The two break the stare down as they look to the opposite as the noise from the Dallas crowd is deafening.

Joe Hoffman: This is a dream match as we have one of the very best in HOW today taking on one of the greats from the “Modern Era” of HOW.

Benny Newell: Clyd? Great? Please Hoffman. I get that Clyd is a hungry young lion looking to knock off the older and established lion of the pride, but every time Clyd steps up he gets smacked down and reminded his place in the order.

The two begin to circle one another and lock up. Ward showing some power as he starts to make Byrd walk slowly backwards, but is suddenly stopped when Clay brings Ward forward a bit and shoves him backward to the mat with enough force to cause Evan to somersault backwards.

Joe Hoffman: What a show of power by Byrd!

Benny Newell: Hortega needs to test Clyd because he’s obviously on the juice.

A wide-eyed Ward looks up at Clay as the Texan motions for him to bring it.

Crowd: BYRD! BYRD! BYRD!

Joe Hoffman: This crowd is fired up for Byrd and we have only just started the match.

Benny Newell: Well, when a whole state is used to failures, they got to cheer for the one that has failed the least number of times.

Ward kips up and makes his way over to Hortega and motions to the official by grabbing his hair and makes a yanking motion before pointing to Clay.

Joe Hoffman: Is Ward actually trying to tell Hortega he was yanked down by his hair.

Benny Newell: I knew Clyd would try and do anything to win.

Hortega makes his way over to Byrd and repeats Ward’s claims and the Texan shakes his head no.

Benny Newell: Look at that man trying to lie to our official with a straight face.

Hortega issues a warning to Clay and Byrd lumbers forward and the two once again lock up and Byrd tosses Ward back to the ground. This time Byrd attempts to pick up Ward, but Evan scrambles to the ropes and ducks between them as Clay puts his hands on him drawing boos from the crowd.

Evan Ward: OYE! OYE! GET HIS ASS BACK!

Hortega uses all of his strength to pry Clay away from the ropes and Ward tries to cautiously come back in only to hide between the ropes again when Byrd barrels towards him.

Crowd: EVAN SUCKS! EVAN SUCKS! EVAN SUCKS!

Ward turns to the crowd.

Evan Ward: YOUR MOTHER SUCKS!

The boos grow louder as Evan Ward tries to slither back into the ring, but hides amongst the ropes once more when Clay gets nearby.

Joe Hoffman: The fans can boo all they want, but Evan Ward is wrestling within the rules.

Benny Newell: Smartest thing you’ve said your entire career Hoffman. I’ll buy you a Red Bull later tonight.

Frustration has grown on the part of Clay Byrd has he shoves his way forward passed Hortega and lunges at Ward who ducks. Ward quickly springs up headbutting Byrd under his chin before coming back down and grabbing Clay’s head and slingshotting his neck on the top rope.

Joe Hoffman: Clay’s overzealousness to get his hands on Ward cost him there.

Ward slingshots his way back into the ring by delivering an elbow drop to the downed Texan.

Cover.

Uno.

Dos.

No.

Clay powers out and Evan rolls out of the ring.

Benny Newell: Smart strategy there. That is why he’s a Ward Games captain.

Ward throws up a “T” sign with his hand drawing immediate boos from the crowd and anger from his opponent.

Joe Hoffman: There’s no timeouts in wrestling.

Benny Newell: When you’re a Final Alliance member the regular rules don’t apply.

Ward begins to slowly walk around the ring.

Benny Newell: Ward looks parched Hoffman. We need to get him some Powerade to help him regain some electrolytes.

Ward cautiously crawls onto the apron before slowly rising to his feet. He drops down immediately when Byrd comes towards him.

Benny Newell: HA! FUCK YOU CLYD! YOU WRESTLE WHEN WARD SAYS SO!

Clay growing tired of Ward’s shenanigans rolls out of the ring and Ward immediately takes off. When Ward puts some distance between himself and Clay he immediately rolls into the ring and Clay feigns diving in causing Ward to hit the canvas with an elbow drop.

Joe Hoffman: Looks like Ward was caught napping there.

Benny Newell: Fuck you!

Byrd grabs both of Ward’s arms and a sadistic smile forms over his face as Evan’s eyes grow wide and he begins to shake his head and begins to plead, but Clay’s not listening as he uses his monstrous strength to pull Ward out of the ring and slam him into the security barrier.

Joe Hoffman: What an incredible display of strength by Clay Byrd.

Benny Newell: Roid rage at its finest.

Byrd pulls the dazed Ward to his feet and lays him against the barrier before looking out towards his home crowd and bringing a finger to his lips.

Clay Byrd: SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

The arena goes silent to hear the sickening thud of an open hand slaps to the bare chest of Evan Ward echo throughout the American Airlines Center.

Benny Newell: I think I saw Evan’s heart suddenly stop.

Evan rolls on the floor gasping for air as the menacing Clay Byrd stares down at him prompting Ward to try and crawl away. Byrd saunters behind Ward before stopping him with a stiff kick to the Hall of Famer’s ribs. Byrd pulls Ward up to his feet and throws him back into the ring. Clay pulls himself up onto the apron as Ward is center ring on all fours. Clay climbs through the ropes and makes his way to Ward who leaps straight up and collides his knee into Clay’s face.

Joe Hoffman: Second Generation Flying Knee has Clay stunned.

Benny Newell: Ward channeling his father proving that the Wards are better than Byrd brains.

Clay stumbles backwards and hits the ropes and uses the momentum to launch himself forward looking for the homerun shot.

Joe Hoffman: Clay missed with the Texas Lariat!

Ward uses his speed to evade the attack Matrix style by ducking underneath. Ward bridges back into a handstand and when Clay turns Ward hits him with a handstand dropkick.

Benny Newell: LONG LIVE FLIPPY SHIT!

Ward pops back to his feet and rushes at Clay before leaving his feet.

Joe Hoffman: Head scissors takedown!

Ward continues the assault by stomping onto Byrd before leaping into the air and hitting a knee drop to Clay’s sternum.

Cover.

Uno.

Dos.

No.

Clay kicks out.

Ward pulls Byrd up to a seated position so he can begin to cave in the Texan’s chest with some soccer style kicks.

Benny Newell: Look at those kicks Hoffman! Manchester United should sign him as their new striker.

Joe Hoffman: You’ve got to be kidding.

Benny Newell: Absolutely not, if I was, I would’ve said FC Dallas should sign him.

Ward continues to kick Byrd in the chest but the pain looks to be fueling him as he grits his teeth and begins to block out the pain causing Ward to strike harder.

Joe Hoffman: Those kicks apparently are having no effect on Byrd.

Benny Newell: Who does he think he is, Tim Howard?

Evan Ward: Oye! Oye! You’ll take these kicks Clyd and like it!

Ward rears back and looks to bend Clay’s head like Beckham, but the Texan grabs Ward’s foot.

Joe Hoffman: Ward got caught.

Benny Newell: No shit Captain Obvious.

Clay slowly gets to his feet as Ward hops up and down trying to maintain his balance.

Joe Hoffman: Clay has evil intentions in mind.

Ward pleads Clay to let him go, but the Texan shakes his head no and Ward tries to cheap shot Clay with a quick enzuiguri, but Clay anticipates this and ducks the cheap shot. Ward immediately fires a mule kick surprising Clay causing him to stumble back. Ward sees this and drills Byrd in the face with a superkick.

Benny Newell: That superkick was executed so beautifully that the fifth and sixth generation of Wards will be studying that.

Clay starts to fall backwards only for the corner to break his fall. Ward immediately makes his way over and jumps to the middle ropes. Ward looks out toward the rabid crowd and slowly balls up his fist before colliding it to the side of Clay’s face. When the punch count of nine is reached, Ward looks out to the crowd again before flipping all them off and delivering the tenth punch causing Byrd to slump down in the corner.

Benny Newell: These idiots in Dallas should be cheering Ward since he is going to become their new hometown hero.

Ward slaps Clay across the face before running across the ring to the opposite corner and jumping onto the bottom pad and turning around and running full speed leaping into the air looking to break some ribs with knees to the chest.

Joe Hoffman: Clay caught him!

Benny Newell: Fuck!

Clay catches Ward midair and Ward tries to get loose, but the Texan drops down and Ward’s face hits the top turnbuckle.

Joe Hoffman: Modified snake eyes.

Clay pulls Ward from the corner and makes a cover.

Uno.

Dos.

No.

Ward kicks out and Byrd quickly locks in a reverse chinlock. Hortega slides into position and sees if Ward wants to quit, but the official signals no.

Benny Newell: Ward isn’t going to quit that easily you idiot.

Clay begins to pry at Ward’s eyes causing Hortega to make his count.

Uno.

Dos.

Tres.

Cuatro.

Cin…..

Clay goes back to the chinlock.

Benny Newell: Come on Hortega! Disqualify his cheating ass!

Byrd puts his fingers into Ward’s mouth and fish hooks the Hall of Famer.

Uno.

Dos.

Tres.

Cuatro.

Cinco.

Clay reapplies the chinlock.

Joe Hoffman: Clay pushing the limits there.

Benny Newell: Where the fuck is Bitcher at Hoffman? He wouldn’t have let that happen.

Clay releases the chinlock unexpectedly and rings Ward’s bells with a duo open hand slaps to the ears.

Joe Hoffman: Deacon Jones ear slaps by Byrd and Ward’s bell is rung.

Clay then drives his elbows into the shoulder and neck area of Ward. Byrd continues to do this until Evan falls onto his stomach and Byrd mounts Ward and drives his forearm into the back of his head.

Benny Newell: Get the fuck in there Hortega and stops this!

With each clubbing blow the crowd chants for Byrd. Clay acknowledges the crowd as he winds up his hand before delivering a final blow to the back of Evan’s head. Byrd pushes Ward onto his back and makes a cover.

Uno.

Dos.

Tre….

NO!

Ward pops the shoulder up.

Clay hooks both legs and puts all of his weight onto the shoulders of Ward.

Uno.



Dos.



Tres…..



NO!

Ward slips out before the count of tres.

Joe Hoffman: Clay almost came away with the victory there.

Benny Newell: Looked like a fast count to me Hoffman.

Byrd turns towards Hortega and holds up three fingers, but the official says it was a count of dos. Clay shrugs and gets to his feet and grabs Ward by the arm. Clay yanks Ward up and knocks him back down with a short arm clothesline. Clay repeats the process and Ward’s body goes limp.

Joe Hoffman: Clay Byrd is trying to crack Evan Ward open like a pinata with those clotheslines.

Crowd: ONE MORE TIME! ONE MORE TIME! ONE MORE TIME!

A sadistic smile begins to form over the Texan’s face as he holds a finger up. Byrd begins to pull Ward to his feet but the Hall of Famer drops to a knee.

Joe Hoffman: Ward may be out of it.

Clay tries to pull Ward up again, but he falls back down to the canvas.

Benny Newell: You may be right Hoffman.

Clay lets out a primal scream as he yanks Ward up, but the Third Generation Superstar was playing opossum and grabs ahold of Byrd’s wrist and uses the momentum to bring him down to the canvas as he ducks under the clothesline.

Benny Newell: HA! I TOLD YOU WERE WRONG HOFFMAN! THAT’S FIFTY BUCKS YOU OWE ME!

Joe Hoffman: I never bet you.

Benny Newell: Cheap ass mother fucker!

Ward transitions over and locks in a deep arm bar.

Joe Hoffman: A variation of the First Generation Spinning Armbreaker.

Benny Newell: Ward showing Byrd his grandpa wrestled better than his.

Hortega slides into position and asks if he quits.

Clay Byrd: FUCK YOU!

The crowd roars with cheers.

Joe Hoffman: Seems that is the typical Texan response to anything.

Evan Ward: Oye! Oye! Hortega that was Texanese for he quits!

Ward shouts towards the official, but Hortega isn’t having none of it.

Joe Hoffman: Ward must think Hortega is dumb.

Benny Newell: He can’t count passed three Hoffman so you be the judge.

Hoffman gives Benny a what the fuck look as Ward begins to lift up with his legs putting more pressure on the elbow and shoulder area.

Joe Hoffman: Clay may want to tap or risk having his arm broken.

The Monster from Plainview tries using his free arm to alleviate the pressure by pushing up, but Ward quickly drops down before returning to the position he was previously in.

Joe Hoffman: A whiplash effect by Ward.

Byrd puts his fist into his mouth so he doesn’t accidently verbally quits.

Benny Newell: That’s it. Only a matter of time until Byrd taps like that bitch Shayla.

Joe Hoffman: Who?

Benny Newell: Shayla?

Hoffman throws his hands up confused.

Benny Newell: The whore I fucked last night! Keep up Hoffhole!

Joe simply shakes his head as Byrd scream out in pain and holds out his free arm as if he is signaling he is ready to tap.

Benny Newell: Tap Shayla!

Ward sensing the end may be near stands up a little bit more, but makes the mistake of shifting his weight off of Byrd’s arm and Clay is able to roll him up.

Joe Hoffman: CRUCIFIX!

Uno.





Dos.





Tres.





NO!

Benny Newell: Thank Lee!

Ward kicks out and as he gets to his feet he is quickly sent back to the canvas.

Joe Hoffman: Big boot from Byrd sends Ward crashing to the mat.

Clay grabs Ward and pulls him to his feet and the Texan uses every bit of strength he can muster to whip Evan towards the nearest corner. As Ward slumps in the corner, Byrd backs into the opposite corner and kneels down.

Benny Newell: Uh oh.

Byrd points towards Ward before running full speed at his opponent looking to cut him in half.

CLANG!

Bone meets steel post and steel remains undefeated as Clay Byrd’s weakened shoulder collides with the ring post. Ward pulls himself up to his feet and takes a few moments to catch his breath before flipping on top of Clay.

Joe Hoffman: OH MY! WARD CONNECTS WITH A RING SHAKING FIRST GENERATION PRIZE WINNING PILEDRIVER!

Byrd is sprawled out in the middle of the ring following a Canadian Destroyer. Ward scrambles towards Byrd to make a cover.

Uno







Dos







Tres







NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Byrd kicks out.

Benny Newell: WHAT IN THE FUCKING FUCK?!?!?!?!?

Joe Hoffman: CLAY BYRD KICKED OUT ON INSTINCT THERE!

The crowd comes unglued and Evan Ward goes ballistic that Byrd kicked out. Ward gets in Hortega’s face.

Benny Newell: Calm down Ward. Focus on Byrd not that idiot.

Ward turns his attention back to Clay Byrd and goes over and pulls him up to a seated position. Ward looks out toward the crowd and begins to pat his knee causing the audience to boo.

Joe Hoffman: Ward looking to finish it here.

Ward hits the ropes and when he gets close to Byrd leaps forward with his knee.

Joe Hoffman: CLAY DUCKED!

Clay fell backwards as the knee approached and Ward spins around quickly to get another attack off, but Clay grabs him and tosses him into the air.

Joe Hoffman: POWERBOMB!

Clay hooks both legs as he rolls into a cover.

Uno.







Dos.







T.

R.

E.

S.









NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Benny Newell: FUCK YEAH!

Ward pops his shoulder up at the last inkling as the crowd begins to cheer and clap for both competitors who lay in the middle of the ring.

Joe Hoffman: Both men have given it there all here tonight.

Benny Newell: Don’t worry, Ward is seconds from winning this.

Hortega checks both men and begins his count as they both lay on the mat.

Uno.

Dos.

Tres.

Cuatro.

Clay and Ward begin to stir.

Cinco.

Seis.

Siete

Ocho.

Both men get to a knee.

Nueve.

Die….

Ward throws a punch.

Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Clay returns the favor with a punch of his own.

Crowd: CLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!

Ward begins to get to his feet as he throws another right.

Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Clay shakes off the effects and delivers a haymaker that rocks Ward.

Crowd: CLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!

Ward stumbles back, but springboard off of the ropes and delivers a wheel kick to Byrd.

Benny Newell: Step One.

Ward takes a moment to catches his breath as he rushes towards the opposite ropes and springboards once more and this time connects with a corkscrew senton on the down Byrd.

Benny Newell: Step Two.

Ward slashes his throat to signal that it’s over as he measures Byrd before running towards the nearest corner and hops all three ropes before flipping backwards.

Benny Newell: Step Three. Awesome Combo……..OH SHIT!

As Ward is in mid flip, Clay Byrd launches himself at Ward and turns the Hall of Famer inside out with a devastating lariat.

Joe Hoffman: TEXAS SIZE LARIAT!

An exhausted Byrd crawls towards Ward and drapes an arm over him.

Uno.







Benny Newell: Kick out!

Dos.







Benny Newell: Kick out! Kick out!

Tres.











Ding. Ding. Ding.

Benny Newell: FUCK!

Hortega signals for the bell and Clay can barely roll off of Evan Ward as the two are breathing heavily as Hortega points to Byrd as the victory.

Bryan McVay: And your winner by pinfall….THE MONSTER OF PLAINVIEW! CLAY! BYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYRDDDDDDDDDDD!!!

Joe Hoffman: Evan Ward made Clay Byrd earn this victory tonight, but with only one show left Clay has serious momentum heading into War Games.

Benny Newell: Fuck off Hoffman, the fix was in.

Clay begins to stir as he allows Hortega to help him to his feet as he throws the hook ‘em horns sign to his hometown crowd as they chant the Monster of Plainview’s name as we shift elsewhere in the American Airlines Center.
Deal With It

We cut backstage where Blaire Moise stands.

Blaire Moise: Blaire Moise here with Joe Bergman’s valet Sunny O’Callahan.

Sunny steps into the shot holding a cell phone in one hand and a bottle of Southern Comfort in the other.

Blaire Moise: Sunny, Joe Bergman has not returned to HOW… he has not returned to the country since March to Glory. Our fans would love to know what’s going on and why he hasn’t returned?

Sunny holds up the cell phone.

Sunny O’Callahan: I’ve got Joe on the phone right now from Wrexham, Wales. Let me ask him.

She listens to Joe for a second and responds.

Sunny O’Callahan: Blaire, the reason is simple. Joe is enjoying his time over in the UK not having to deal with Lee Best’s bullshit and, more importantly, watching Wrexham return to the Football League. What happened at last week’s chaos with Xander Azula getting royally screwed out of the World Title by Lee simply confirms every reason why he hasn’t returned to the States.

Blaire Moise: But, Joe will be at War Games?

Sunny takes a swig from the bottle of Southern Comfort and listens to Joe’s response.

Sunny O’Callahan: Yes. Even though Joe warned Steve Solex about drafting him, Joe does feel an obligation to the others on the team and will appear at War Games-

Steve Solex rushes out and stands face-to-face with Sunny.

Steve Solex: Are you kidding me? Watching Wrexham? What the fuck does that even mean?!

Sunny puts the phone closer to her ear and listens.

Sunny O’Callahan: He thinks that’s pretty self-explanatory.

Solex shakes his head and grits his teeth. He points at the phone in Sunny’s hand.

Steve Solex: You tell that shithead that we’ve got War Games to win and that he needs to get his ass back in the United States stat. Or else I’m gonna take my happy ass over to England and start another fuckin’ revolution in that bitch and the first thing I’m going to do is put my foot in Joe Bergman’s ass!

Sunny seems a bit taken aback, but not overly surprised, by Solex’s sudden hostility. She manages to maintain her composure and keep a solid poker face and responds in a cool, calm voice.

Sunny O’Callahan: He warned you about drafting him. In fact, he told you specifically not to pick him. But you did it anyways. Joe says he would love to come back sooner but there’s an open-top bus celebration and parade on Tuesday to celebrate Wrexham winning the title. So he’s afraid he’ll have to extend his stay in the UK just a little bit longer.

Solex seethes as his eyebrows narrow, pinching a wrinkle between them.

Steve Solex: I’m not surprised one fuckin’ bit, Sunny. Joe loves to celebrate mediocrity and this Wrexham thing reeks of it. You tell that nutless prick that this AWOL bullshit is about to get on my fuckin’ nerves!

Sunny listens to what Joe is saying.

Sunny O’Callahan: Are you referring to the Wrexham team that just won promotion to the Football League ddd has more heart in their little pinkies than you ever will?

Solex scoffs.

Steve Solex: Does he want to win War Games or does he want to drink beer with some mediocre soccer playing, unAmerican fucks across the pond?

Solex shakes his head in disbelief as Sunny takes in what Joe is telling her.

Sunny O’Callahan: Sure, Joe would love to win War Games. But not on your team.

Solex is about to erupt again but Sunny adds…

Sunny O’Callahan: Seriously Steve, like Joe’s really going to trust you after what you did to him at ICONIC. You burnt that bridge, not him.

Steve Solex: Holy shit, how much longer am I going to have to hear this guy cry about ICONIC? You’d think I killed his fuckin’ dog.

Sunny snickers.

Sunny O’Callahan: Well, you did cost him the LSD title and the tag title he’d worked hard to win back after you lost it the last time.

Solex places his hands on his hips and rolls his eyes so far back he almost knocks himself off balance.

Steve Solex: Sure, yeah…ok.

Solex relents with an overbearingly sarcastic tone.

Sunny O’Callahan: So, since Joe was ‘chosen’ to be on your team at War Games, Joe will be at War Games… not because he feels an obligation to you… because he feels he owes an obligation to Zion, Hollywood, and even STRONK to be there. He’ll be there, but it’s going to be on his terms.

Again, Solex is about to respond but Sunny cuts in.

Sunny O’Callahan: Let’s be clear here. Joe Bergman is done with you. He’s done with Lee. He’s done playing games. He’s done with putting up with the sports entertainment bullshit. He’s done with it all. If you want Joe to show up at War Games, my advice to you Steve is this… deal with it. Deal with it or else you’d better hope and pray Brian Hollywood wins the four-way so you won’t be a man down to start War Games.

Solex stares blankly at Sunny, his face cherry red. Solex throws his arms in the air.

Steve Solex: This fuckin’ guy…un-fuckin’-believable.

Solex storms off, cursing Joe Bergman under his breath as the camera centers back on Blaire and Sunny.

Sunny rolls her eyes and takes another drink from her Southern Comfort.

Blaire Moise: All right then, thank you Sunny O’Callahan and thank you… Steve Solex.

With that we cut to another commercial break.

I Cannot Tell a Lie

Back live from commercial and we open to another area backstage with Brian Bare.

Brian Bare: I’m standing outside Christopher America’s dressing room where I’m hoping to get some comments from the World Champion on the actions of Scott Stevens for the last few weeks.

Brian knocks twice before stepping back and composing himself.

The door opens and Christopher America looks at Bare, disgusted.

Brian Bare: Chris, apologies for the interruption. I was hoping to get some comments about the actions of Scott Stevens over the last few weeks.

A slow, almost creepy smile spreads across America’s face. He leaves the doorway of his dressing room and stands next to Brian. The HOW World Championship is quickly shifted from the shoulder near Brian to the one away from Brian.

Christopher America: My thoughts? Sure. Let me give my thoughts. Let me deconstruct Scott Stevens. Let me pull back that curtain and break down a man.

Scott Stevens for weeks or months, who really gives a shit at this point, dedicated himself to Lee Best. He called himself the Demi God of HOW. It was a moniker he gave himself. It wasn’t earned. It wasn’t bestowed upon him. It’s a title he hoped would right a ship that has been swirling the drain for years. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t. Because a silly title wasn’t going to fix what is wrong with Scott Stevens.

He was given an opportunity at EVERY HOW championship WEEK AFTER WEEK and Scott Stevens won only the tag team championships thanks to Jace Parker Davidson and myself. The two longest reigning champions struggled to carry that dead weight to a victory. You know who was to blame for all that failure? According to him, everyone else. Everybody, but Scott Stevens. What he doesn’t realize is that championship opportunities aren’t going to fix what is wrong with Scott Stevens.

And now, after all that failure, Stevens shed his dedication to Lee Best and decided to take on the Final Alliance. Just like a truly false prophet, his faith wavered the moment it became difficult. An apt parable for Stevens’ career. This is a man who failed continuously and miserably, only to then wonder why he wasn’t favored by Lee Best. He wonders why absolutely no one wants him on their War Games team. He wonders why no one wants to work with him against the interests of the Alliance. Oh! And my favorite part? When someone hands Stevens a lifeline… when Mike Best extended his hand in motivation, what did Stevens do? He resigned himself to his fate. He accepted a loss. He accepted a knee to the face. Not to move forward. But out of pure futility. So was his loss in HOFC a surprise? Nope. Because even with people helping him, they aren’t going to fix what is wrong with Scott Stevens.

Scott Stevens, as a man, as a human being, and as a wrestler, is a failure. Not respected as a former World Champion, not respected as a Hall of Famer, not respected by the wrestlers who came both before and after him. He throws so much spaghetti at the wall, that the wall is now nothing but spaghetti. It’s rotting. It smells. It reeks of decay and desperation. What he doesn’t realize is that no amount of new ideas are going to fix what is wrong with Scott Stevens.

Last week, probably because he couldn’t say something more off-color or offensive, Stevens chose to call me an abuser.

But in reality, Scott Stevens is the abuser. He’s the biggest abuser of this entire company.

He abuses this audience by continuing to roll out this sad, pathetic excuse of a wrestler that he is. He mistakes insanity for perseverance. He mistakes defeat for toughness. He mistakes irritation for credibility. He mistakes revulsion for interaction.

He abuses our interviewers, people like you, Brian. You’re forced to interview him not because Lee grants him time, but because he requests the time. He puts on this brave face, looks like a 6 year old trying to act tough, and tries to reach deep down in his destroyed ego, hoping to pull out whatever semblance of intimidation he thinks is left in there, but that well is beyond dried up. It’s an arid and barren wasteland.

He abuses the locker room, running around, begging people to talk or engage with him. “Help me! Tag with me! Work with me! Forget about everything I’ve done to make this work environment miserable! Change my diaper!” And when that doesn’t work, he forces himself into their locker rooms to talk about the steaming shits he creates.. Look what he did last week to Jace and I.

He abuses our championships. When he wins one, it’s not because the title chose him. It’s because he was carried to victory by someone more talented than he was. The singles championships in particular are abused verbally when he threatens to take them from their holders. Because they want fuck all to do with him.

Worst of all, Scott Stevens abuses himself. He deludes himself with dreams of accomplishments that will never come. He makes promises he never keeps. He resigns himself to constant and consistent failure. He believes he is owed and expected rewards for that failure. And then angers himself when those rewards never come.

And you know what’s sad about all of this? About all this abuse he puts us all through on a weekly basis? Me pointing out the truth ALSO isn’t going to fix Scott Stevens.

But fear not… I know what will fix Scott Stevens.

Do you, Brian?

Brian goes wide eyed and shakes his head.

Christopher America: Nothing.

Scott Stevens is nothing more than a leper to be pitied and ignored. When you see him, spit at him. Gouge out his eyes. Cut out his tongue. Deprive him of food and water. Avoid all contact and interaction. Leave him to die at the hands of the wild dogs.

If Stevens wants to scare people, if he wants his credibility back, if he wants to be taken seriously, he needs to win. Not a match once every other month. He needs to win consistently.

But he can’t do that.

Somehow, someway, he has to “Stevens” it up.

Instead of training and focusing on his shortcomings, he bought Clay Byrd an outfit.

Instead of building on his momentum after his victory over Scottywood, he continued to prance around in a red dress acting like a priest.

Instead of trying to build momentum for War Games or focusing on his HOFC match with Mike, he sends flowers and shoots shitty vignettes that make fun of abusers.

Think I’m being too harsh, Scott?

Then tell me what is Lee Best getting for the nearly $750,000 he’s paying you.

What’s his return on investment?

Tell me, in the ring, what’s he getting from you? And don’t spin it either. Don’t say shit like “competitive matches” or “entertaining vignettes” because we all know that both aren’t true.

For once in your life, tell the truth. Be honest about yourself… to yourself.

And when you manage to actually do that…

You’ll realize there is no place… in HOW… for Scott Stevens.

America smirks, nods at Bare, and ducks back into his locker room, whispering to his championship, as we cut elsewhere.
There are No Friends

The camera shifts to an undisclosed section of the backstage area in the American Airlines Center. The sound of footsteps can be heard going back and forth before the camera truly comes into view. The source of the footsteps is the HOW LSD Champion Jace Parker Davidson. He can be seen dressed in the same clothing he had on earlier tonight. His hand is upon his chin as he continues to walk a path across the concrete floor.

Davidson: There are no friends in HOW…

Jace mumbles, barely audible as he continues to walk back and forth across the dark and isolated area.

Davidson: …there are no friends in HOW.

He repeats it again as his fingers begin to dance along his chin. Suddenly, his pacing comes to a halt as he screams at the top of his lungs.

Davidson: THERE ARE NO FRIENDS IN HOW!!!

His body contorts in a flash of onset pain as he reaches up to cover his patched eye. He groans in agony for a while before straightening his posture. His breathing soon goes from heavy and labored to more calm and relaxed. He turns on his heel and then faces the camera.

Davidson: That’s what I believe, I believe it because it’s a fact of life. I’m not wrong about that in the slightest bit but yet here I am.

Jace pauses to sort through the many thoughts crashing against each other in his head.

Davidson: I don’t need friends, love is a burden, and people who trust easily are the ones that end up suffering the most.

He nods his head slowly at his own words.

Davidson: Conor Fuse. Conor… I…

The words get stuck in his throat, unable to pass through his lips. He grunts in frustration and begins a mini course of pacing once again. His lips move as if he’s in an argument with himself but the only sound is his footsteps along the floor. He turns to the camera once again and holds out his hands.

Davidson: I hope you listen. I hope the words I said to you sink in between the ears. Everyone out there is blinded by misconceptions and greed. They see only what they want to see. Even with one fucking eye, I can see the bigger picture.

A small chuckle escapes from within him.

Davidson: I want you to gaze upon it with me. I want you to see what I see. You just have to shut off all the other noise and look. Really, honestly, look at it and realize it’s the only answer. It’s beautiful in its sheer simplicity… But for you, only you!

Jace wages his index finger up and down as the pacing commences once again.

Davidson: Scott Stevens.

The name comes out of his mouth before he turns and focuses on the camera.

Davidson: Would you please… SHUT THE FUCK UP?! Noise… noise… noise! That’s all that ever comes out of you. Delusional fucking dribble that every single person on this roster is tired of hearing. You, seriously, think you’re the Captain of this War Games team? You think you’re going to lead us to victory. Stevens, you can’t even lead yourself to the win column on a regular basis.

Jace hands and fingers become very animated all of a sudden, moving in various directions without rhyme or reason. In an instant, the movement stops as a single index finger remains raised into the air.

Davidson: You have exactly one win as a singles competitor here in 2023. You’re not talented, Stevens. You’re a little boy sitting in his room, a fan of HOW that collects little trinkets and bobbles that no one else wants. You track things about this company like they were baseball cards. Sitting there, alone, looking over statics before locking the card for safe keeping in your flimsy little plastic holder.

Jace looks down at his hands as he continues speaking.

Davidson: You cling to these minuscule accomplishments like they were a life preserver in the open sea. No one gives a shit about your two hand-me-down World Championship reigns outside of yourself. You go around thinking you’re something special because you have a Hall of Fame ring. Blaire Moise, Joe Hoffman, Benny Newell, Joel Hortega, Matt Boettcher, and Bryan McVay all have Hall of Fame rings. And yet… you aren’t even a 1/4th as important as they are to HOW.

Jace rubs his hand down his face slowly.

Davidson: You’ve lost way more matches in your HOW career than you have won. This is a fact but your mind… your ego… looks at failure and sees nothing but success. You just tapped out earlier tonight in your home state but to you? You’ve just hit the winning homerun in Game 7 of the World Series. You’re like Darin Zion, only slightly smarter but without a filter. The only thing you need to lead, Stevens, is yourself to a much-needed retirement from professional wrestling.

Jace tosses his hands into the air as his eye widens.

Davidson: And then there is Scottywood. Holy fuck, Scottywood of all people. It was nice, it was quiet for months here. Scotty was dead and gone and Zion was busy running his mouth over in PRIME. And then like fucking magic, War Games comes around and Scottywood decides to crawl his way up out of his grave. Why? To accomplish what, exactly? Scottywood’s literal reason for being is to drink beer, talk about shitty Hockey, and collect L’s 24/7. Scottywood isn’t going to win War Games and walk out as HOW World Champion. Neither is Scott Stevens.

Jace presses his palm against his forehead.

Davidson: This isn’t a movie. It’s not some Hollywood underdog story where either of you is going to overcome the odds. You both are literal anchors to weigh me and Conor down. That is what you are, learn to fucking accept it.

Jace lets out a heavy sigh and then rolls his neck a bit.

Davidson: And that leaves me. The forever ICON, the current LSD Champion, and the King of Everything. Just what am I going to do? Am I going to conform and do the teamwork thing? Am I going to hold hands and ride high on the power of friendship?

Jace holds out one of his hands.

Davidson: Or will I rebel against everyone and everything? Will I march into that cage of horrors as a one-man army, taking out as many of you as I can on my obvious suicide mission?

Jace holds out his other hand. Both hands begin to move and down slowly before he laughs.

Davidson: That’s the thing I love about being a wildcard. No one knows what I am going to do, not even me!

The laughter becomes a bit more maniacal before he composes himself.

Davidson: However, before War Games, before Mexico, there is one more stop along this path. One that I’m sure will involve me. I mean, they’ve only been screaming it from the rooftops for weeks. Jace Parker Davidson vs. Michael Lee Best in a HOFC match.

Jace’s face gives off a deadpan expression as his voice is filled with sarcasm.

Davidson: …Joy.

Jace begins to pace around yet again before speaking.

Davidson: There are no friends in HOW.

He stops and turns his head toward the camera.

Davidson: Roommates… are a completely different story.

Jace walks out of camera range as we head to our final commercial break of the evening.

#13 Bobbinette Carey vs. #2 Dan Ryan

Back live from our last commercial break of the evening and we cut to our Hall of Fame announce team for the final time.

Joe Hoffman: It’s main event, title match time!

Benny Newell: I have Dan Ryan for the easy victory. EASY.

Joe Hoffman: Not so sure about that, with Bobbinette- I mean Nettie, as she wants to be called now, is sporting a new edge…

Benny Newell: She is?

Joe Hoffman: Well we kind of saw this backstage earlier tonight when she was attempting to tell Conor Fuse what Jatt Starr has been up to – which, in my opinion, is none of Carey’s business.

Benny Newell: I wasn’t paying attention.

Joe Hoffman: Of course you weren’t.

Benny Newell: Also, I thought her and Conor were friends? So maybe it is her business? Jesus Christ, I am not defending any of this. I’m going to fucking vomit in my mouth, so I’m moving on. Can we just get on with the match?

The scene switches to ringside.

Bryan McVay: This is the MAIN EVENT and it is for the HOTv Championship!

Cheers.

Bryan McVay: Introducing first… the challenger… from Parma Heights, Ohio… weighing two-hundred-thirty-five pounds… NETTIE CAREY!!!

Arena lights go black and then a magenta spot light shines down as Nettie Carey walks out. But this isn’t her normal disposition or pandering to the crowd. Instead, she power walks down the rampway as her theme song, “Enemy” by Anna blares on the PA. Magenta pyrotechnics explode from the turnbuckle as she enters the ring and takes a serious glare into the crowd.

Joe Hoffman: As stated earlier, I think Carey’s ready to go.

Benny Newell: Uh-huh.

Bryan McVay: And her opponent… from Houston, Texas… weighing two-hundred-ninety-five pounds… the HOTv Champion… DAN RYAN!!!

The camera pans over the Best Arena. There’s a buzz in the air as the High Octane faithful wait. Slowly, the lights in the arena start to dim, almost to black, but not quite.

A lightning effect flashes in the arena, followed by a thundering sound, and music begins to play.

“Daddy’s Home” by JT Music.

Somewhere beyond the sea

Something slumbers underneath

When she wakes up from her dreams

We’ll be reborn from the deep

The strobe lightning effect continues, and as the opening lines of the first verse start to play, a large figure steps out onto the stage. His appearance is met with another thundering sound, this time the sound of boos from all over the building.

Dan Ryan stands center stage, soaking it in. He’s been booed most of his career. This time, for a unique reason. But he soaks it all in, then starts to walk down the ramp.

Hold your noses cuz we’re going for another long dive

Some call me Father, others call me Johnny Topside

Long forgotten, I was swept up by the wrong tide

Thought my bed was made but I just woke up on the wrong side

Ryan makes it to the ring, then stops and looks out into the crowd once again, soaking in the reaction with no expression.

I’m the heavyweight champ, you won’t even last a round

Too long you brutes abused the juice, now you get smacked around

Delta’s held the belt so many years here in Rapture now

Baddest motherfucker in the building, who’s your daddy now?

I’ll ask you nicely, would you kindly put your weapon down?

And cut the cameras cuz I’d rather not be ratted out

I’m on the path to power, I would’ve made Atlas proud

Hit you with the one two punch, zap and whack you out

Ryan cracks his neck, then climbs up onto the apron and climbs through the ropes. He dashes into the ropes, bounces off and sprints to a turnbuckle, step-climbing up and then roaring into the crowd and settling into a snarling stare out at the masses.

Ryan hops down, then circles the ring for a moment, letting the boos continue to rain down all over him, then finally backs into a corner and waits for the bell.

Boettcher does just that, he calls for it.

DING DING

Nettie shows a rather aggressive side immediately. She sprints at Dan Ryan and looks for a spear-

Ryan is barely able to move aside! He takes a partial spear from Nettie, as in Carey’s shoulder goes right into the edge of his hip and knocks the champion back. While he doesn’t fall over, he’s certainly stunned. Carey is quickly on her feet, kicks Ryan in the side of the hip she hit with her shoulder and then performs an olympic slam to the big man!

The crowd is stunned!

Joe Hoffman: Hell of an offensive move by Nettie!

Benny Newell: Yeah, surprised she lifted Ryan up with such ease but if she uses any hockey moves, I’m fucking out.

Carey kicks Ryan in the back as the champion is trying to get on his feet. The kicks are hard and stiff, it’s making Ryan struggle a lot more than he thought he would. Dan rolls into the ropes, places his hands on the second turnbuckle and then slings himself up, through the heavy boots Carey is applying. Ryan goes for a forearm smash but Nettie ducks, snatches Ryan by his trunks and hits a belly-to-side suplex!

Joe Hoffman: Carey throws Ryan directly on his hip!

And now Nettie has a body part to work on. She keeps kicking the hip of Ryan and then drops her elbow on it.

Joe Hoffman: It’s a smart move. Carey looks like she made her mark on that partial spear. It’s not a typical body part – like a leg or knee – but it’s still something that can keep Ryan on the mat.

Carey is dropping numerous elbows while Ryan works to the ropes and fights on his feet. Nettie with an Irish whip to Ryan, sending the big man into the ropes. Dan looks for a big boot in return but he grabs his hip the second he lifts his leg. This allows Carey to slide underneath the leg, pop up and hook her arms around Ryan’s waist. She lands a belly-to-back suplex this time.

Joe Hoffman: Incredible offense from Carey.

Benny Newell: I do like this a lot better than the Bobbinettewood bullshit.

Carey drops another elbow. Now she lowers her base and falls onto her knees, wrapping her arms around Ryan’s torso and working him into an abdominal stretch. Meanwhile, with her free hand, she begins punching the same spot in Ryan’s hip.

The champion obviously has a ton of strength. He is able to take a step back and then with his own arms, he takes hold of Carey and whips her forward, slamming the challenger down to the mat. The hold is broken, Ryan is into the ropes and he drops a leg across Carey’s neck.

Now it’s Ryan’s turn to inflict punishment. He reigns down elbows into the side of Carey’s temple, before launching her into the ropes and finally laying in that big boot of his. An elbow drop to Carey’s head follows… then a bounce off the ropes and a leg drop to the same location, Carey’s head.

Ryan won’t pin yet. Instead, he looks rather annoyed that his hip is still hurting and he was caught off guard in the beginning stages of the match. He reels Carey in and looks for a snap suplex, which he hits, and then he drops a high angle leg drop across Carey’s head once again.

The champion picks Carey up… this time he’s looking for a brainbuster slam when Nettie escapes! She bounces off the ropes, ducks a back elbow and hits the next set of ropes. She leaps across for an attempted crossbody block but Ryan catches her!

No! Dan ends up dropping Carey because he grabs his hip instead. Nettie shoots up with a European uppercut, clubbing Ryan under the jaw. She takes hold of the big man and pumps him in the face with a right fist. Then she kicks the hip and looks for a second olympic slam…

Ryan breaks free! He hits the ropes with Carey’s back towards him and performs a jumping bulldog. The Murder Daddy slowly gets to his feet, cracks his knuckles and then takes Carey along for the ride…

It’s a powerbomb attempt…

Joe Hoffman: Nettie is trying to anchor herself to the canvas…

Eventually, however, Ryan has Carey lifted up. But Nettie has no quit. She is drilling Ryan in the forehead before she is slammed to the mat, in the hopes Ryan will break the hold.

For a moment there, it looks like Dan might not connect with the powerbomb. Instead, he hurls Carey to the canvas… however, it’s not a 10/10 powerbomb. Maybe more like a 6/10.

He drops down and hooks a leg.

ONE.

TWO.

KICKOUT!

Ryan’s face looks rather impressed but also, it’s a chance to deliver more punishment. He doesn’t wait. He spins Carey to her feet and he hooks both arms around her neck/head. A full nelson slam…

It doesn’t connect because Carey slips free. She kicks Ryan in the hip, then she bounces off the ropes and looks for Royal Pain, her running lariat.

Dan ducks! Carey goes into the next set of ropes. She comes back to the center of the ring and this time Ryan goes for his spinning rolling elbow smash, the Hammer of God.

No!

Carey moves out of the way this time, and she runs into the next set of ropes.

WHAM!

But this time she IS met with a maneuver, in the form of a Dan Ryan spinebuster slam!

Joe Hoffman: Both wrestlers avoided the other’s signature set-up move. In the end, however, Ryan catches Carey with a spinebuster.

The ring shakes on impact. Most of the fans think it will be over and Dan goes for a cover…

ONE.

TWO.

SHOULDER UP!

Ryan rises from the canvas but he also rises with Carey in his mitts. He hurls the challenger into a corner and comes roaring in with a body splash so hard the referee Matt Boettcher is surprised one of the turnbuckles didn’t break off its hinges on impact.

Carey fumbles out of the corner, seemingly on roller skates. Ryan, to his credit, doesn’t waste a second other than to turn himself around and measure Nettie for his next move.

Ryan charges at her-

POWERSLAM BY CAREY!

The arena LEAPS out of their seats! The announcers are stunned!

Joe Hoffman: That was one hell of a powerslam! We might have a new champion!

Ryan isn’t moving. Carey, for good measure, can barely move herself but she ends up draping an arm over top of Ryan as Boettcher counts!

ONE.

TWO.

LAST SECOND KICKOUT!

A lot of the crowd thought it was over, so some cheer and most others boo, but Boettcher is a pro. He shoots to his feet and screams into the bleachers that it was only a two.

Nettie doesn’t look happy, nor does it seem like she agrees with the count. She narrows her focus on Ryan, propping him to a standing position before connecting with a belly-to-belly suplex but ensuring Ryan is dropped on his hip. She dusts off her hands… she has a serious, menacing look in her eyes. She shoots into the ropes and looks for the Epic Ending…

NO!

Ryan moves and Carey hits the mat!

However, the champion is SLOW to get up and Nettie is up first. She rifles a kick forward, hitting Ryan swiftly in the back of the head!

She sends another kick his way. Another. Another. A final blow!

Joe Hoffman: Ryan is OUT!

But the champ remains on his knees, even though no one looks to be home.

Joe Hoffman: What’s Carey doing!?

With a smirk on her face, Nettie smacks Dan across the shoulder blades.

Joe Hoffman: Is she… Weapon Getting him!?

Benny Newell: Fuck is this a Conor Fuse thing? I’m out.

Joe Hoffman: Perhaps she’s trying to show her loyalty to Conor.

Carey hits the ropes, bounces off them and leaps up in the air, hitting a modified Head Stomp to Dan Ryan!

Joe Hoffman: The lights are OFFICIALLY out now!

Carey drags Ryan away from the ropes and pushes him onto his back. She hooks a leg while Boettecher counts.

ONE.





TWO.





THREE-





NO!!!

KICKOUT AT THE LAST SECOND ONCE AGAIN!

The crowd is going wild! Once more, many of them thought it was a three. Carey pulls at her hair but she knows she’s VERY close to securing the victory. She rises, backtracks into the ropes and slowly bounces off them. It looks like she’s building up speed to go for her finisher again when Dan Ryan finds an incredible second wind, pops upright and lands an overhead belly-to-belly suplex!

The fans scream! Seeing Carey fly through the air like that is not something that happens often!

Joe Hoffman: Both wrestlers are down! No doubt that was a desperate move Dan Ryan was able to pull off!

Benny Newell: He’s got nothing left, Joe. Nothing.

Joe Hoffman: I would not be so sure… for either of their cases.

Carey is eventually on her feet but… once again with help from the ropes so is Dan Ryan. With a fury in her eyes, Nettie charges at Dan but the champion ducks and Carey goes into the ropes. On return, Ryan hits a German suplex, dropping Carey on her crown!

Ryan cracks his neck, lets out a bellow and waits for Carey to get on her feet. He’s cautious at first, just because he doesn’t want to be surprised but then he connects with the Hammer of God.

Nettie crashes into a corner of the ring. She stumbles out and eats a second Hammer of God, falling back into the corner again.

Joe Hoffman: I don’t know if Ryan can go for the Headliner. Carey worked on his hip for the majority of this match…

It doesn’t matter. Carey’s eyes have rolled back in her head. Although Nettie is draped across the corner of the ring, it looks like she’s out cold. Ryan pulls her into the center of the ring and for good measure he drills her in the temple once again.

Nettie falls to the mat.

Ryan hooks her leg.

ONE.







TWO.







THREE.







DING DING DING

Bryan McVay: The winner of this match… and STILL HOTv Champion… DAN RYAN!

Ryan’s theme plays as he rolls over and sits up, placing his right hand on his right hip. Boettcher collects the HOTv Title and hands it over to him.

Joe Hoffman: This is just my perception but I almost feel like Ryan walked into this match and let his guard down a little. Carey brought it but, ultimately, the power of Dan Ryan prevails.

Benny Newell: A win is a fucking win. All that fucking matters in the end….. The Weapon Get was stupidity, though.

Eventually, Ryan stands under his own power and raises the title. He retrieves his letterman’s jacket, putting it on after he straps the belt around his waist. He smiles at Carey as he pats the B on his jacket with one hand and pats the HOTv Championship with his other hand.

Benny Newell: I can only cringe at the thought of Ryan losing his Jacket and or Championship to Carey tonight. HOLEE FUCK would the GOD of HOW came down HARD on the Hammer of GOD.

Joe Hoffman: He almost did. He almost did. But nevertheless…..Big win for Ryan and more momentum rolling into War Games for The Final Alliance. That is all the time we have tonight folks…we will see you ALL next week in Houston for the penultimate show of this PPV period…..for Benny and all the crewmembers…..HAVE A NIGHT EVERYONE!!!!!

Chaos fades out as Dan Ryan marches up the rampway, content he survived as Chaos 30.
BONUS

Somewhere in the depths of the arena we cut to a man sitting on a bench………due to the lack of lighting and the overhead view from the camera…..it is tough to make out the identity of the man.

The camera tracks the man as he reaches inside of his bag and he pulls out what is clearly a mask of some sorts.

Slowly the man stands up as he slips the mask over his head.

With a slow turn the man starts for the door of the room and then pauses.

He turns and then stares up at the camera and then we see the man and his mask in all their glory before exiting the room and closing the door behind him.