DT: We have word that there’s an altercation backstage.
[Cut to directly backstage with Fusenshoff walking off and Stalker chasing behind him.]
Stalker: Where the hell do you get the nerve to pull this sh*t?! I’m sick and damn tired of it! The original contract strictly states that you cannot lay a finger on me- that you must do exactly as I say- and yet you’ve broken it consistently for months now.
[Stalker stops, looking for some kind of explanation from Fusenshoff, but gets nothing but a blank stare.]
Stalker: Damnit, ANSWER ME! Where’s my latest contract? I want to know your answer NOW!
Fusenshoff: Kinda sucks huh, waiting to find out what’s coming? I’m glad you’ve experienced even an iota of what I’ve been through for over a year now. I’m not one to relish in revenge, but I’m learning from the best.
Stalker: You’ve never had anyone to seek revenge upon until now. After all, when you killed your kid sister it was your own damn fault. And you’ve certainly made your own life miserable. SO I guess you could say that you acted a certain revenge upon yourself.
[Stalker is smiling evilly as he watches Fusenshoff fume, using all his strength to keep from losing his composure.]
Stalker: C’mon you son of a b*tch. Hit me… you know you want to. Quit pretending you’re sitting on some high horse when we all know you’re nothing but boozed up gutter trash.
[Fusenshoff slows his breathing and somehow turns his back to Stalker, walking toward his locker room. Stalker is raising hell as he walks around him, barking in Fuse’s ear.]
Stalker: I WANT my ANSWER!! Sign the damn contract or throw it away! I’m NOT waiting any longer!
[Stalker turns around and smacks Fusenshoff in the face.]
DM: Wow! Did you see that?! Stalker just SMACKED Fusenshoff right in the mouth! He’s pissed!
DT: And Fusenshoff wastes no time coming right back at Stalker! The crowd goes crazy as these two exchange fists back and forth like a couple of amateur boxers.
MN: Now we’re talking!
DM: It looks like Fuse’s finally had enough and we all know this is exactly what Stalker wants. This one’s gonna end bloody.
DT: Stalker had Fusenshoff in a side headlock now as this one’s turning into a backstage brawl. He lands a few close shots to Fusenshoff’s face as he drags him around backstage. Now he’s in a full sprint, carrying Fuse with him by the neck. He’s running at the door to the janitor’s closet.
DM: OOOOHHHHH!!!!
MN: HAHAHAAA!!!!
DT: Stalker just SMASHED Fuse’s head against the janitor’s door! He falls in a heap as Stalker looks at all the different weapons at his disposal. Fuse looks knocked out as Stalker rubs his palms together. Searching the closet, he starts with a broom handle, holding it like a baseball player. Reeves turns toward his assailant from earlier and starts pummeling him with the broomstick.
[CRRACKKK!!]
[CRRACKKK!!]
[CRRACKKK!!]
[CRRACKKK!!]
MN: That’s what I like to see. Stalker is taking out his aggression on Fusenshoff and loving every second of it. There’s nothing I enjoy more than a good beating.
DM: Just ask his dominatrix.
MN: HAHA exactly!
DM: Aww Mike, I was joking man. We don’t wanna know about that.
MN: What?! Just because I’m brave enough to pursue my fantasies. I can express myself however I want.
DT: Aaaand back to the brawl. Fusenshoff is on his back now as Stalker pulls out yet another instrument in his new arsenal. He picks up an industrial sized shop-vac from the closet and lifts it over his head. In one smooth motion he drops the equipment on Fuse’s midsection. Fuse doubles over in pain, holding his stomach and rolling over onto his side.
DM: I’m not sure this is a fight Fusenshoff can win.
MN: He’s gonna have to fight fire with a flamethrower if he wants to beat Stalker in this game. Since that probably won’t happen, he’ll just have to take his beating. It’s not like he’s a stranger to the hospital anyway. He’s been there almost as much as he’s been in the drunk tank.
DT: These two have been through some bloody battles over the last year or so. Between their malicious cage match and multiple TV title matches they have quite a history. Now we see it coming to a head here as Fusenshoff finally looks to be recovering. As Stalker turns around with a trash can Fuse throws a shoulder into it and the receptacle smashes Stalker in the face. The can goes flying along with Stalker, who loses his balance and crashes into a bunch of mops and a mop bucket in the back of the closet.
DM: It’s about time. That was starting to get ugly.
MN: Damnit! That was a cheap shot!
DM: How was that a cheap shot?! Are you watching this or thinking about what you had to drink at the bar last night?
MN: He used a trash can! Fusenshoff used a weapon!
DT: It looked to me like Stalker just got caught in a mistake there. Fuse has him by the hair immediately as he tosses him across the hallway into the wall. His face is bloodied and it doesn’t even look like he can see. Still he bashes Stalker’s forehead into the brick wall a couple of times. Stalker stumbles and Fuse lays a few backhands to his chest.
[WHOOOO!!!!]
[WHOOOO!!!!]
[WHOOOO!!!!]
[WHOOOO!!!!]
[WHOOOO!!!!]
MN: Wait wait.. what.... what is he doing?
DM: Looks like he's grabbing the camera?!
MN: NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!
[As Neely screams the camera comes crashing down onto Stalker's face cutting the feed immediately.]
DT: Wow the crowd is into it big time. This is definitely borderline for Fusenshoff. Typically he’s all about keeping things clean and in the ring, but he’s using his surroundings to his advantage right now. We have to cut to more action, but we'll get the cameras back to this one later.
[CUTTO: The back, where we see The First, back to the camera, standing in front of Green Machine, who looks nervous as he hands The First a clipboard and a pen.]
GREENIE: Uh…Yeah, this is all the paperwork you requested…You sure you want to be doing this? You do know this could end up getting you suspended, perhaps even terminated from EPW…
FIRST: I know what I’m doing…And this is something I have to do.
GREENIE: Well, just sign the last page, and it’s all taken care of…Everything will be as you have requested.
FIRST: Excellent…
GREENIE: You look really screwed up…
FIRST: Thank you…
[CUTTO: The Broadcast table]
Bruce "the Beast" Richards vs. "Simply Sensational" Sean Edmunds
DT: Who knows what that was all about…
DM: Perhaps some last minute stipulations with his match with Felix Red tonight?
[MUSIC UP: “Brain Stew” by Green Day, Sean Edmunds, in red trunks with matching knee pads and ring boots, makes his way to the ring, drawing jeers from the crowd.]
TF: The following contest is set for one fall…Making his way to the ring from Boston, Massachusetts weighing in at 225 pounds…Representing Anthology…”Simply Sensational!” SEAN! EDMUNDS!!!
DT: And our first Anthology sighting of the night as Sean Edmunds makes his way out to the ring, Edmunds clearly seeking to spoil the debut of Bruce “The Beast” Richards tonight.
MN: I have no idea on this Richards cat, but he’s up against Anthology so clearly EPW hasn’t done him any favors.
[MUSIC UP: “Knights of Cydonia” by Muse. The crowd buzzes as Bruce Richards, wearing black leather pants, black boots, black fingerless gloves, and a white wife beater.]
TF: And his opponent, from St. Albert, Alberta, Canada, weighing in at 273 pounds…BRUCE! “THE BEAST!” RICHARDS! [Richards gets a mixed, but loud response from the crowd as he enters the ring, the bell rings right afterwards and the match is underway!]
DT: Richards charges out of the corner and nearly BEHEADS Edmunds with a huge BOOT TO THE HEAD! Edmunds dropped hard to the mat. Edmunds back to his feet…ONLY TO BE FLOORED BY A CLOTHESLINE…He gets back up…SENT BACK DOWN WITH ANOTHER CLOTHESLINE! Edmunds rolls to the floor to get his wits about him.
DM: Edmunds clearly wasn’t expecting that onslaught to hit right as the bell rang, and now he’s really had his bell rung!
MN: Yeah, this Richards looked good for about 45 seconds, let’s see how he handles Edmunds the whole match before we start building shrines to worship this guy.
DT: Edmunds telling the ref to back off Richards and now he gets back into the ring…They lock up, Edmunds with a quick go-behind and gets a waist lock on Richards…Richards with a couple back elbows breaks the hold and now Richards just HAMMERING Edmunds with a series of huge right hands, Edmunds send to the ropes…SKY HIGH BACKBODY DROP!
DM: Edmunds just can’t get anything going at all here, as Richards has dominated with pure smash mouth wrestling here.
MN: Exactly, I haven’t seen anything special out of this Canadian bonehead with a ‘Beast’ nickname…He’s kind of like the other Beast before he changed his name…
DT: Richards grabs Edmunds and hooks him in a Cobra Clutch…Edmunds trying to fight out of it…COBRA CLUTCH BOMB BY RICHARDS! He covers!
ONE!
TWO!
NO!
DT: Edmunds kicks out of what was a kind of lazy cover by Richards, Richards quickly back on top of Edmunds with kicks to the back of the head. Richards pulls him up and whips him into the corner…Richards charges…NOBODY HOME…Richards staggers out of the corner and gets BULLDOGGED into the mat by Edmunds, Edmunds with a quick cover!
ONE!
TWO!
NO!
DT: Richards EXPLODES out of the pin! Edmunds quickly slaps on a rear chinlock and trying to keep Richards down…Richards powering to his feet and he elevates Edmunds…BACK SUPLEX!
DM: It seems like nothing Edmunds does is working, Richards is just out muscling Edmunds at every turn.
DT: Richards now gets Edmunds up and gets a waistlock…BELLY TO BELLY SUPLEX! CRUSHING IMPACT FROM RICHARDS! Richards now pops to his feet and tells the crowd it’s over…He’s waiting on Edmunds, Edmunds staggering to his feet, Richards lifts him up…CHART ATTACK!!! HE PLANTED HIM WITH THAT F5!! THE COVER
ONE!!
TWO!!
THREE!!
[Bell rings. Music up: “Knights off Cydonia” by Muse. The crowd pops loud for Richards who stands in the ring arms raised looking pumped over the victory.]
TF: Here is your winner…BRUCE! “THE BEAST!” RICH!!! ARRRRRDSSSS!!!!
DT: What a dominating and impressive win by Bruce Richards here in his debut. He just manhandled Sean Edmunds.
MN: I’m kinda stunned honestly, I mean really, nobody in Anthology is an easy out, yet this guy just mowed through Edmunds.
DT: Richards putting the EPW locker room on notice that he’s going to be a force to be reckoned with.
NEXT