Xero Gravity

One step closer began with a match devoid of any real backstory. It was merely a chance to give a few guys some much needed in ring time. The lucky two, just so happened to be members of the “ones to watch” albeit for different reasons. On the one hand was Prince Adam with his size, power, and amazing look. On the other was Frankie Perez, who made up for his lack of size with a great all round game. There was only one thing known for sure as both men made their way down the aisle, and that this was going to be a modern David versus Goliath.

That’s exactly what it was, as Perez spent the opening minute or two simply dodging the onslaught Adam threw at him. What little time for offence he had, he took without hesitation. A series of stiff kicks that would make Hell Monkey cringe, connected with the massive left thigh of Prince Adam, slowing the big man mobility to a snail’s pace. With the leg now a prime target, Frankie kept up his hit and run tactics as he’d fire off a few shots before retreating to safety. Despite the positives to this approach, it was also serving to frustrate Adam as he found himself incapable of the dominance he usually showed during his matches.

There was no denying that Frankie’s all round game was very impressive, but it would also bring about the end of his advantage in the match. Having spent the past several minutes wearing down Adam’s left leg; he looked set to switch from his stiff striking to aiming for a submission victory. However getting up close and personal was exactly what the prince needed, as he levelled Perez with a monstrous lariat! It took him a while to hobble back to his feet, but Frankie had been knocked silly by the impact and was in no position to escape. With only one leg, Adam’s limited offence was crippled even further as he resorted to simply tossing Perez around the ring with a series of slow, methodical slams. It may not have been the most exciting portion of the match, but it was highly effective nonetheless. Things almost looked up for Perez a moment or two later, as he was able to free himself from Adam’s clutches and somehow make it to the top rope. It was all or nothing as he leapt off, and on this occasion it would be nothing. Adam caught him in midair, and flipped him impressively into The Rack (Torture Rack). It was too much for Frankie to withstand, and he duly tapped out a few seconds later!

2 - Devine Like A Foxx

We cut to the small screens, where Brent Hill is pacing back and forth down a hall way.

Hill: I’ve been wrestling for a long time, and I’ve taken my fair share of beatings. Hell, I’ve even dished out one or two myself. Two months ago, I beat Darryl Devine and paid the price as he tried to cave my skull in with a ring bell. Last month, I got a little revenge when I returned the favour. Tonight, I get a chance to take one step closer to ending this and getting on with my career. With my partner, I’ll…

????: Ha! You really think you can beat me old man?

The camera pans around, to Darryl Devine with a cocky grin on his face. His appearance naturally causes Brent to go into a defensive stance.

Devine: Whoa, whoa, whoa…calm down there tiger. I ain’t here to fight you, I mean look at this shirt…it cost more than you’ve made in the several hundred years you’ve been wrestling! I just stopped by to wish you luck…and to tell you to turn around…

It’s too late for him to react, as he turns and takes a kendo stick shot to the head by Flying Jimmy Foxx! Devine can be heard laughing as Foxx smacks the stick off Hill’s head three more times before being satisfied with his work. As Jimmy backs off a bit, Darryl drops to his knees and gets up close to Brent’s face.

Devine: One step closer to ending this? The only way this is going to end, is when say so, you got that?

He pats Brent on the face, before rising back to his feet and casually walking off with Foxx.

We returned to the in ring action with our first of two of the evening’s title matches. Since joining forces in December, The Patriots have quickly gained a fan base, and become one of the most entertaining aspects of CZCW. With a debut victory last month, they now find themselves with a chance to win the tag titles in only their second match together. Word had clearly spread about them, as despite the bigger crowd they were still getting a mostly positive reaction. This is only compounded by the rampant xenophobia towards the Canadian tag team champions. Having been around long enough, The Gilberts know just how to use this to their advantage and make The Patriots look like a pair of Tommy Cornell’s by comparison.

The hot crowd bleeds over into the opening of the match, as the champs try to take the quick way out with a pair of hockey stick shots, but get ducked and sent over the top rope with stereo dropkicks! The Patriots nod to each other as they both ascend the nearest turnbuckles. As the Gilberts stagger to their feet on the outside, Elemental and Valiant come off the top with a pair of moonsaults, wiping themselves out in the process! It takes them until a count of eight from Pee Wee before there’s any sign of this not ending in a draw. Luckily for them, Valiant is able to roll in and out forcing the restart, giving him enough time to throw Jesse into the ring and get things started officially. He tries for a quick pinfall, but only gets a one count as Jesse forces out of it with ease. Attention is drawn to the outside for a moment, as Joe and Elemental get into a scuffle that sees Gilbert ram the masked superstar headfirst into the ring post! Fighting the urge to help his partner, Valiant remains focused on the task at hand and after a few strong forearms to the back of the head, flips Jesse down into rear chin lock. Every few seconds he checks on Elemental, who by now is slowly making his way back to their corner. This however, leaves him wide open to a running boot to the face from the illegal Gilbert! Germaine forces him back out onto the apron, but it’s a waste of time as Jesse is straight over to tag him into the match legally.

With American Elemental in no fit state to get involved, the tag champs take full advantage of Valiant’s vulnerable position. Despite neither being anything other than average in the ring, their teamwork is flawless as they’re able to make even the simplest of tandem offence look more devastating than it really is. A trifecta of double suplexes almost steals the win, but the young American is somehow able to summon enough strength to kick out and keep The Patriots in the match! Even with the threat of disqualification looming over their heads, The Gilberts both remain in the ring taking turns in beating down Valiant. Things don’t look much better for him a few seconds later, as the champs call for a Five Minute Major (Dropkick Assisted Powerbomb). Jesse gets into position, hooking Valiant into a powerbomb. Hoisting him up, he waits for the dropkick that never comes, as Joe gets planted on his head with a huge backdrop driver by American Elemental! This gives Val the chance to reverse Jesse into a hurricanrana and hooks the leg…but only gets a two! Elemental quickly gets out onto the apron, as the crowd urges Valiant to make it over to their corner and get the tag. Jesse does his best to stop it, holding onto one of his legs, but a burst of energy gives him the momentum to get American Elemental into the match! The masked superstar bursts into the ring, and straight away plants the legal Gilbert with a huge dropkick to the face. Joe staggers to his feet, but gets a dropkick of his own and is sent right back down to the canvas. He turns his attention back to Jesse, dragging him up and whipping him across the ring. Gilbert doesn’t have a chance to react on the rebound, and gets taken down courtesy of a running leg lariat! On the outside, Valiant is calling for a tag as he already has his cape in hand. A little hesitation causes both men to see Joe sliding one of their hockey sticks in to Jesse. As Elemental makes the tag, the illegal Gilbert is quickly in the ring and quickly takes both American Elemental and himself out of the ring with a spear through the middle rope! Valiant quickly attaches the cape to his neck and climbs to the top. He still hasn’t seen the hockey stick, and neither has Pee-Wee Germaine. As the young rookie leaps off the top, Jesse turns AND SMASHES THE STICK OFF VALIANT’S SKULL!

Pee-Wee calls for the bell instantly, as Jesse bails out of the ring and snatches the tag titles away from the time keeper. He calls out to Joe, who leaves Elemental to climb back into the ring and check on Valiant. They may have lost the match, but The Gilberts hold the titles high in the air as though they’d just won a clean victory!

4 - Divided They Fall?

We return backstage, to see Remmy Skye casually relaxing backstage. His girlfriend Bunnie is by his side, making her first appearance on screen. A knock on the door is followed a few seconds later by both Erik Strong and Stuart Ferdinand walking into shot. Neither seem to be as calm as Remmy is, and he's not about to let it get to him.

Remmy: Now what can ah do for ya'll?

Despite being the junior of the two, Erik seems keen to make his voice heard first.

Erik: What can you do for us? How about acting as though you give a damn about our match?

Remmy: Why, do ah look like ah don' care?

Erik: You're damn right you do! You think Stuart and I have just been lounging around doing nothing all night? No! We've been together, going over a game plan…something that YOU should have been involved in!

Ferdinand steps in, as Strong looks as though he could blow a fuse at any minute.

Ferdinand: Easy kid...look, we all know what's at stake in this match. Just because the winner gets a shot at Plague next month, doesn't mean that we shouldn't try to work together. If I'm being honest, the title shot doesn't really appeal to me. I'm no spring chicken, and all that high flying stuff has never really been my forte. But you two are young, talented guys, who are perfect for this opportunity. Do ya’ think Plague as his cronies aren’t gonna try and take advantage of even the slightest hint of dissension between us?

Remmy still doesn’t look at all concerned about what’s been said, but Carlos has obviously been paying more attention.

Bunnie: He’s right, you know?

Skye looks up at her, cocking his eyebrow.

Bunnie: Look, I may not be the most experienced when it comes to what goes on in the ring, but even I know a three man team has the advantage over three individuals. If any of you even want to consider a title shot, you’re gonna have to work together.

Ferdinand looks mightily impressed, as she shrugs her shoulders.

Bunnie: …or at least that’s my opinion.

Tossing his magazine to one side, Skye gets to his feet and wraps an arm around Bunnie.

Remmy: Okay fellas, if ya’ll think that’s for tha’ best then count me in. But make no mistake, if ah see a chance ta get tha win, ah’m takin’ it!

Erik, who had been pacing back and forth behind Ferdinand, stops and looks Remmy dead in the eye.

Erik: Not if I get there first, you don’t.

Skye smiles at him, looking forward to the challenge.

Remmy: Well then, shall we?

He and Bunnie head past the duo, leading the way towards the ring.

Despite the uneasiness of the previous segment, the three individuals do indeed make their way down to the ring together as Remmy Skye's music plays in the background. This seems to annoy Erik Strong a little, but Ferdinand looks to have words with him just before they get into the ring. Bunnie remains on the outside, as the three men have a less than organised huddle in their corner. The building then fades into the grip a dark red strobe light, as the haunting music of the Xtreme champion begins to play through the sound system. Plague makes his way out front and center, flanked at each side by The Nightmares. Despite the stipulation placed on this match, there’s no sign of any cracks in the trio’s foundations as they march down the aisle.

It comes as no surprise that Plague makes sure he gets the first taste of action for his team. It also comes as no surprise that the other side engages in a heated argument about who should start. In the end, Stuart Ferdinand settles it by forcing both Strong and Skye onto the apron and taking on Plague himself. Plague doesn’t seem too concerned by the man eleven years his senior walking towards him, until he sprang into action and caught him with a double leg takedown! Before Plague knew what had hit him, he was already trapped in a vice like side headlock and struggling to find a way off his stomach. He’s clearly underestimated the wily veteran, as he scrambles to his feet and desperately breaks the headlock before making it to the safety of his corner. Ferdinand simply stands in the middle of the ring adjusting his wrist tape, with the slightest hint of a grin creeping in on his face. That fades however, once Plague tags out to Primal Rage. The stocky brawler climbs into the ring, as Stuart looks over his shoulder to where Strong is now calling for the tag. He seems reluctant to let the rookie get involved, but Erik is insistent and forces him to relent. Even with the size difference, Strong gets into the ring full of fire as Primal Rage merely laughs it up across the ring from him. A few seconds later, he may wish he hadn’t have done that as Strong with a rapid, albeit fairly tame, series of right hands to the face! It’s enough to stun him, but not for long enough as Erik soon finds out when he attempts a drop kick. Catching the cruiserweight in midair, Rage simply spikes him down onto the canvas with crushing force! He may have got the pin right there, if not for Remmy Skye hopping in to break it up before the three. There’s no time to rest as Rage tags in Machine and drags Strong back to his feet. The tag team specialists show no signs of inner fighting as they plant Erik with a double suplex, and Rage leaves Machine to get a close two count. Again, it’s down to Remmy Skye making the save as he gives Machine a few choice words before leaving the ring.

For the next minute or so, Insane Machine proved that despite being a dick, he was also a highly underrated flier between the ropes. A series of rope assisted splashes kept the crowd warmed up as Strong tried desperately to tag out. Both Ferdinand and Skye were eager to get in, but Machine had done well to keep the ring divided in two. Plague calls for the tag, sensing an easy win on the weakened Shooting Star. Machine looks at him, before hitting a huge piledriver on Erik and heading for the corners. Leaping onto the top rope, he looks to be going for an Insanity Tsunami (Phoenix Splash)…BUT PLAGUE SHOVES HIM OFF THE TOP AND SENDS HIM CRASHING TO THE CONCRETE BELOW! Primal Rage doesn’t know how to react as the fans break out in a huge ‘Holy Shit!’ chant at the sight of Machine’s body bouncing several inches back into the air upon impact with the floor! In the commotion, Strong is able to reluctantly tag out to Remmy Skye who make s a beeline for Plague and hurls him into the ring by his hair. This causes a chain reaction, as both Primal Rage and Stuart Ferdinand both climb into the ring sending the bout into an even deeper feeling of chaos. While a lot of it is a mass of disorganised brawling there’s a few notable happenings, one of which is Skye catching Plague with a face buster and almost stealing the win until Erik Strong pulls him off the cover! This causes the partners to get into a shoving match, which the Xtreme champ takes full advantage of by shoving Remmy into Strong, which in turn sends the rookie bailing through the middle rope. On the other side of the ring, Ferdinand is somehow able to suppress the raw power of Primal Rage with his superior mat wrestling, before dumping him over the top rope with a huge dropkick! With Plague’s attention drawn to Skye, Stuart sneaks up behind him and begins the sequence of his Chimera-Plex with a huge german suplex into the middle of the ring. Holding onto the waist, he rolls back to his feet and quickly transitions into a perfect dragon suplex. It takes a few moments longer, but both men finally make it back to their feet where Ferdinand locks in the tiger suplex, driving Plague neck first into the canvas. Rolling over, he throws his body onto the champion for the one, two, BUT REMMY SKYE LEAPS OFF THE TOP ROPE WITH A HUGE SKYE DIVER (Corkscrew Moonsault) ONTO BOTH MEN! Shoving his partner off Plague, Remmy hooks the leg and gets the three to secure himself a rematch for the Xtreme title!

6 – A Different Kind Of Animal

As the ring is slowly cleared of the previous match’s participants, the fans are treated to Fox Mask’s music. He made his entrance to a huge reaction from the 750 strong crowd, slapping hands with as many people in the front rows as he could. After making his way round the ring twice, he finally slides in with a mic and calls for the music to be cut.

Mask: I've been wrestling here in CZCW now for four years. In that time, I’d like to think I’ve become a pretty big part of the company’s history. I’ve won the belt more times than anyone else since I debuted back in 2001. Some of you might think I’m just out here to blow my own horn, but there is a point to this so just bear with me. Way back when I debuted, I had to go through a tournament to capture my first title. I’ve stepped into the ring with the best to have stepped through the front door, and beaten them all. Sure, winning the title four times means I’ve lost it three times as well…but it also means I’ve got experience when it comes to a big match environment. Two months ago I stepped into the ring with two men for the first time, and I got sloppy. I expected my experience to coast me through the match and bring me my fifth CZCW title reign. Being pinned in that match was like being slapped in the face and being made to wake up.

It’s 2006, and there’s a new era pushing it’s way through the company. Hell Monkey proved that when he pinned me to claim the title for himself. He proved it again last month, when he showed a complete disregard for another human’s well being when he broke Puerto Rican Power’s jaw. But ever since the turn of the month, I’ve been nothing but excited about getting back into the ring with the champion. It would seems like career suicide to go one on one with an animal…no pun intended…like Hell Monkey. I’ve got all the respect in the world for Puerto Rican Power, but I refuse to end up on the shelf like he is. He may have had the strength and size advantage, but he didn’t have one thing that I do…and that’s speed. If Hell Monkey wants to try and kick me into a bloodied pulp, he’s more than welcome to try. He’ll just have to catch me first. If it’s my destiny to lose tonight, then so be it…but I’m damn sure gonna make that bastard work for the satisfaction that brutality seems to bring him.

The clock is ticking champ, I know I’m ready…are you?

His music hits again as he raises his hands into the air. The crowd pops again as he takes another trip around the ring to shake hands with them.

As it was revealed earlier in the evening, Darryl Devine makes his way out first being accompanied by his partner Flying Jimmy Foxx. Devine tries to ignore the idiotic dancing of Foxx, as he prances round him in circles to boos from the crowd. The two take turns climbing into the ring, where Darryl finally gets sick of the dancing and grabs Jimmy by the shoulders and shoves him into their corner. Ripping the bandana and glasses off his head, Mighty Fine reminds him sternly about what’s at stake in this match. There's a few tense moments after his music fades, leaving nothing but silence over the Pa system. Devine can be seen with a Cheshire cat grin as he watches the entrance way, but his face drops like a stone when Brent Hill's music begins to play! With a bandage, and crusted blood on his face Hill marches out through the curtain with Jack Giedroyc in tow. As they get to the mid way point in the aisle both men pick up speed and slide straight into a brawl as Devine and Foxx are ready for them!

They quickly separate into two separate brawls with, as you’d expect, Hill trying to take some measure of revenge on Devine for setting him up earlier in the evening. The back and forth between Jack and Jimmy ends up on the outside, and after each have gotten a fair amount of shots in on the other, it dissolves into both men taking their respective corners. In the ring it’s a different story however, as Brent has become a man possessed, raining down right hands into the forehead of a defenceless Darryl Devine in one of the neutral corners. Several attempts by Pee-Wee to break it up are shrugged off, as Hill refuses to relent. If it wasn’t for a desperate low blow, he may very well have beaten Devine’s skull into a pulp. But thanks to his bending of the rules, he was able to crawl across the ring and tag out to Foxx. Hopping in through the ropes he let out a loud ‘YEAH BABY!’ before charging at Brent, but got spiked into the canvas with a huge overhead belly to belly suplex! If he couldn’t get his hands on Devine, Hill look determined to substitute Jimmy in his place. Dragging him up to his feet, he once again planted him into the canvas with another belly to belly. This time he went for a cover but was fairly apathetic towards only getting a two count. Instead, he pulled Foxx over to his corner and tagged in Giedroyc. There was an open leg waiting for him, which he wasted no time in twisting into a step over toe hold. It was criminally basic move, and that’s why it worked so well until Jimmy was able to pull himself over to a rope and break it. Jack naturally released it immediately, but not without a cheeky stomp on the leg straight afterwards. On the opposite side of the ring, a now fairly refreshed Danny Devine was shouting obscenities across the ring, mostly directed at the incompetence of his partner. That was all about to change as Giedroyc brought Foxx back to his feet and whipped him across the ring. With his concentration on his next move, he missed the blind tag and ducked under an oncoming clothesline. Jimmy span back around giving Jack the chance to almost hit the Crashing On (Diamond Cutter), but he ended up being pushed straight into the path of an oncoming superkick!

Devine made sure to shoot a cocky smile in Hill’s direction as he casually placed a foot on Jack’s chest. Everyone knew what was coming, but still popped as Giedroyc kicked out at two. Darryl, feigning shock, simply laid a few boots into his head before pulling him off the canvas. Jack, still seeing stars after being kicked in the face, offers up no resistance to the onslaught of rights and lefts that Devine pummels into him. All the while he makes sure to look over at Brent, as though to let him know this is payback for earlier. As quickly as he settled into pounding Giedroyc senseless, Devine pulls him down to the canvas and cinches in a Crossface. The pain running down his neck wakes Jack up from his stupor as he starts writhing around trying desperately to escape. After a good half minute in the hold, he starts to have the opposite effect from the one he should be having. Instead of fading away, his movement becomes more focused as he fights through the pain and makes it onto his knees. A moment later he’s on his feet and drills Devine into the canvas with a huge backdrop! Both men hit the canvas hard, with both their partners looking to motivate them into making a tag. Devine starts moving first, but Jack is soon following suit. The fans are heavily behind the Englishman as he crawls towards the out stretched hand of Brent Hill. Darryl however is closer to Foxx, and gets the tag first. Jimmy leaps in, but stops in his tracks as Jack gets the tag too! Brent flies into the ring, ducking a clothesline attempt from Foxx and tosses him over the top rope.

Jimmy was supposed to skin the cat and get clotheslined back over for his troubles. However, the speed of which he went over the top rope was faster than expected. Hitting the side of the ring, he immediately released his grip on the ropes and hit the floor howling in pain. Pee-Wee immediately dove out of the ring to check on him, and after a few seconds threw up an X as he helped Jimmy, who was now clutching his left arm, to his feet. While the fans were concentrating on what was going on at ringside, an improvised ending began to take place inside of it. Devine slid outside and relieved the timekeeper of his chair. Quietly re-entering the ring he was challenged by a charging Jack Giedroyc, but easily wrapped the chair around his head! The sound alarmed Hill, who turned a second too late and also took a sickening shot to the skull! Before Pee Wee got back to the action, Devine dropped the chair and hit the floor as though he’d taken a chair shot too! With all three men looking to be out, Germaine had no idea as to what had happened. All he saw was Devine ‘coming to’ and draping his arm over Hill for the slow three count! The fans started booing heavily as the moment Pee Wee’s hand counted the three, Darryl hopped to his feet and began an over the top celebration!

It was now time for the main event, with no hype video after the lesson learned last month. Much like he did earlier in the evening, Fox Mask made his way down the aisle making sure to interact with as many fans as he could. With the injury to Jimmy Fox cutting the previous match short, he took a little extra time with his entrance to make up for it. Once in the ring he posed on each of the turnbuckles, back flipping off all of them to four cheap pops. The mood quickly changed as the sound of howling monkeys echoed through the arena and the heavy riffs of Hell Moneky’s music blared through the PA system. The champion calmly walked through the curtain with the CZCW title strapped around his waist. His eyes, under his mask, were locked firmly on the challenger as he marched down the aisle. In a moment of stupidity, one of the fans in the front row reaches out and pats Monkey on the shoulder. This stops the masked man in his tracks, and he slowly turns towards him. The guy nervously smiles, displaying his ‘King Of The Jungle’ Hell Monkey t-shirt. It however has no positive effect on the champ, as he stares a hole right through him before continuing down the aisle and into the ring.

Pee Wee cautiously advanced towards the champ, and takes the CZCW title from him. He lifts it into the air, and is almost knocked to the ground as an orange blur whizzes past him at high speed! Luckily for Fox Mask, he’s more than ready and sidesteps the attack sending Monkey crashing into the turnbuckles. Before he can turn round, the challenger drives several kicks into his back. They don’t do a great deal of damage, but they do serve to piss the champ off. Sensing this, Fox bails out of the ring and lures him into following. The second his feet hit the floor, Hell Monkey is peppered with a series of rights before he’s able to shove Mask down to the floor. Unperturbed by this, Fox is quickly back to his feet and right back to hammering away on Monkey’s head. The champ staggers around one corner and finds himself being backed up the aisle. It is however, merely a trap as he steamrolls Fox Mask down with a huge clothesline! Cracking his neck, he spots the fan from earlier and approaches him. Looking down at his t-shirt, MONKEY BEGINS TO FORCIBLY PULL IT OFF HIM! The now bare chested fan looks embarrassed as Monkey turns to Fox Mask and starts choking him with the shirt! Pee Wee looks reluctant to call for the bell, so does his best to try and convince Monkey to take it back to the ring. After a good half minute, he finally stops choking Mask and tosses the shirt into the face of the fan he stole it off. As he pulls Fox back to his feet, he doesn’t seem to want to waste much time returning to the ring, so he whips the challenger straight at the ring apron. He sets off running himself, BUT FOX JUMPS ONTO THE APRON AND SPRINGS BACK WITH A HUGE CLOTHESLINE! Both men hit the concrete as the crowd pops for the move. Slowly Fox Mask begins to make it to his feet first and rolls back into the ring. Looking around, and then down at the champion, he takes a run at the opposite rope and vaults through the middle rope hitting a huge rolling senton on Hell Monkey!

The crowd pops again as Fox rolls to his feet and drags Monkey into the ring. He tries to end the match then and there, but the champ kicks out just before three. Instead of getting angry, Fox rolls him into the middle of the ring and hops out onto the apron. Springboarding onto the top rope, he dives half way across the ring and hits a massive frog splash! Hooking the leg he covers again, but for the second time Monkey kicks out before the three. Still showing a great deal of calm, Mask simply gets to his feet and heads over to a corner. The fans wonder what he’s up to, until he cartwheels towards Hell monkey and uses the momentum to hit a standing phoenix splash! The reaction from the crowd is deafening at this point, as Mask covers for a third time…but Monkey’s leg drapes over the bottom rope just in time! By now, the challenger is starting to show signs of concern as he pulls the champion over to a corner. Patting the top turnbuckle, he begins to climb up clearly looking for the Fox Hunter (Shooting Star Leg Drop). The fans were fully behind him as he leapt off the top…BUT HE HIT NOTHING BUT CANVAS! Hell Monkey rolled out of the way at the last possible second, ensuring the match didn’t end. Pulling himself up the ropes, he took one look at the seated challenger and hit a stiff kick straight in the chest! Staggering around for a moment, he tried to shrug off the beating he’d taken before dragging Fox into the corner. Propping him up he then ran across the ring, and rebounded straight into a huge face wash! He nearly kicked Fox’s mask straight off his head, but wasn’t satisfied. Heading into the opposite corner, he ran at him again and this time landed a dropkick right in his face! Fox looked to be on dream street as he was pulled out of the corner and pinned, but somehow managed to kick out! It was admirable of him, but didn’t do Hell Monkey’s mood any favours. Dragging Fox Mask up to his feet, the champ spiked him into the middle of the ring with a brainbuster! It seemed as good as over, as he began stalking him looking for a Hell Fire Kick (Super Kick). Fox could barely move, yet somehow found the strength to make it back to a vertical base. He turned, giving Monkey the opening he needed to strike…BUT FOX MASK CAUGHT HIS FOOT! A brief surge of adrenaline allowed him to spin the champion round and catch him with a desperation Fox Flip Off DDT (Asai DDT)!

The crowd urged the challenger to pull himself the foot or so over to Hell Monkey, and claim his fifth CZCW title. Finally he was able to throw an arm over the champ, allowing Pee Wee to make the count once, twice, and three…AND HELL MONKEY KICKED OUT! Everyone in the arena thought that was it, as Germaine holds up two fingers and the match continues. Barely able to move, both men drag themselves around the canvas, trying to reach the ropes for support. It becomes a race to see who can get the advantage first, with 90% of the crowd firmly behind Fox Mask. He’s able to turn around first, and grabs Hell Monkey by the head…BUT TAKES A KICK TO THE GROIN! Pee Wee looks confused as Fox staggers backwards into the middle of the ring. As he raises his head again, Hell Monkey launches forward with a devastating Hell Fire Kick right in the jaw! Both men hit the canvas, the match having taken a huge toll on their bodies. Hell Monkey starts to pull himself ever closer to the challenger as the crowd begins to boo madly. Draping his body over Fox Mask, he wearily hooks the leg and Pee Wee drops to the ground and counts the one, two, three!

The champion’s music hits the PA system, as Germaine retrieves the title from ringside. Neither competitor moves as Monkey is announced as the winner, and Pee Wee returns with the belt. Raising one of Hell Monkey’s arms in victory, he drapes the belt over his chest and leaves him to get to his feet. With the belt still him his possession, Monkey raises it high above his head to another round of boos from the crowd, before rolling out of the ring and heading for the back. Fox Mask remains in the ring, slowly making it to his feet. Even in defeat, the fans give him a round of applause as he staggers towards the ropes. The show officially ends with the challenger heading up the aisle to cheers from the 750 fans in attendance.

I'll start by saying yes, you should really drop Nitro down to two hours. It helps reduce what you're having to write, and makes the ppvs seem a little more special when they're not next to regular tv shows of equal time length.

...now onto the show...

What I Liked

The Hosemen promo was a great way to kick things off. Other than Bret's quest for the title, the whole Horsemen Vs. Flair storyline is the best thing you're running right now. Everyone pretty much sounded like you'd expect them to, and really got across their reasonings behind their actions. Plus, you explained why Benoit seemingly jumped DDP randomly ast Slamboree. I'm also interested in what happened at the end, and if there's anything major stemming from the promo being cut short.

Raven's promo was also good for what it was, as I'm really getting into this feud with Goldberg. I just hope it all doesn't come to nothing and Raven gets jobbed out for the sake of Bill's streak. Although saying that, I think the triple threat is a great idea as you can get the belt of Goldberg without sacrificing a loss on his record.

I must continue to profess my liking of Hennig/Karagias. You keep throwing in these little bits and pieces to keep building it up. I'm still looking forward to the ending, as I know that at least Hennig would move onto better things, and hopefully Evan would become a fixture in the cruiserweight division.

The cruiserweight title match, after a few weeks of waiting, didn't disappoint at all. I'm no big fan of Juvi's as you probably know, but I thought you did a great job of getting both guys over in the match. Jericho's run continues, but I've got to wonder how long it'll last before you try and push him up to a better title.

The Cage promo got over his personality straight away, although this whole deal with Juvi makes him look like he's trying to be Jericho mark 2. Especially when he called Guerrera Quasi-Juice. Still, with a few months under his belt he could turn into a great character in the midcard title hunts.

Bret Hart continues to be the best character (and rightfully so) in the diary, and another promo proves just why. I loved how after Saveage bitched about being screwed, Hart pointed out that he still bore the letters nWo on his shirt. It's great to see him blurring the face/heel lines with his 'you may be a good guy to the fans, but to me you're as bad as Hogan' stance.

Despite being 3/4 of bad wrestler, I did enjoy the main event. The star power, and ending, more than made up for the lack of talent. Savage laying the other three out with a chair got his craziness over, and the repercussions will be something to see.

What I Didn't Like

Not a lot here this show, just the few filler matches/feuds that seemed to only be there because you had to fill three hours. Things like Kidman/Saturn, Adams/Konnan, and the MK stuff could all be better served on the 'B' show. The only thing was the Sting/Giant segments. For some reason, I still can't seem to get myself interested in what's going on between them. It's just 'there' during shows, while other angles find ways of grabbing attention easier.

Over all, another thumbs way up from me (Y)

Like there's a chance I'm not gonna sign up for this.

Not being a huge fan of WCW at all I usually shy away from diaries based on it. This just happened to come along as I was looking to rectify that, and I'm glad I did. What you've done so far has been an enjoyable read, and I really like you choice in laying everything out. You've done a lot to put across the diminished roster, and how this is affecting the relaunch. I like some of the potential ECW signings, as with the lack of high end guys availible there's a lot of room for some of them to be more than just part of the midcard pack. RVD, Tajiri, and Corino are really at the top of the list, and any combination of those would be a great addition to the roster. However, I do hope we eventually see some of the Time Warner guys come back, as like you've mentioned in updates the Jarrett/Booker/DDP trio is not exactly the star studded main event that a company can survive on.

That being said, this is a great start and I'm looking forward to the first show (Y)

Sure (Y)

We were still a week or so away from One Step Closer, and with a day of I’d decided to take Cliff on a trip downtown. Despite lying my ass off during our last talk, I’d actually went out and looked for a better venue to run our upcoming shows in. The fruit of my labour was The Snake Pit, a building that specialised in hosting a variety of fighting events. Wrestling, boxing, MMA, you name it and it’s probably been seen in The Snake Pit. Not only was it notorious for being a fighting establishment…

Cliff: Jesus, this place is a fuckin’ dump!

…it was also known for being a run-down shit hole with no air conditioning.

Me: That it may be, but it’s a big dump. Look at it this way, if you’re serious about expansion, we’re gonna need to start thinking about a bigger building to run in. The Simmons Center is fine, but a three hundred person limit on the place is really hindering us. I spoke to the guy who owns the place earlier, and he said that there’d be no problem in fitting at least a thousand people in here, even with the ring in place.

I was doing my best to try and hype the place up, but no matter what you dress a piece of shit up in, beneath it all it’s still a piece of shit.

Cliff: How much are they expecting us to fork out for the pleasure of our business?

Me: …a grand…

Cliff: Excuse me?

Me: I said a grand. I know it’s a lot more than what we’d pay out for using the SC, but think about it. With the right hyping, we could easily get enough people buying tickets to more than make up for the rental cost.

Cliff: …a grand is a hell of a lot to throw away on a risk.

Me: Hey, look who you’re talking to…I live for big risks.

I let out a nervous chuckle, hoping he wouldn’t throw another fit.

Cliff: I must be getting fuckin’ crazy in my old age. Okay, talk to the manager and see if you can get this place booked for Sunday. But remember, I’m still watching you…

Yeah, yeah, yeah…some times I wish he’d change the record for once.

I'd barely been back in my office for more than two minutes, when I got a call from Remmy Skye. To be honest, "call" is a fairly deceptive description of what I got. It was more or less just a slurred jumble of random words and long pauses. It didn't take a rocket scientist to realise where he was. With no time to rest, I was back out the door and down the street to the bar I'd become all too familiar with over the last three months.

Remmy: JAAAY...TEEEE!

It was good to see heavy drinking hadn't impaired his vision at all. The small spattering of bar patrons all looked over as I embarrassingly hurried over to where he was barely propping himself up against a stool.

Me: Jesus Remmy, how many have you had?

I glanced over at the stack of empty bottle, too afraid to count them myself.

Remmy: One…two…two…three…eleven.

Me: What the hell brought all this on?

Remmy: That bi..bitsh, Bunnie.

Me: Bunnie? What happened, has she left you?

Remmy: Naaaaah, shesh bin hangin’ round with some guy…Jimmy, Johnny, ah forgot.

Me: …and?

Remmy: He’sh tryin’ ta shteal her from me!

By this time he’d taken to accentuating his plight with rapid arm movements, and all I could focus on was the half empty bottle in his hand threatening to fly across the room without a moment’s notice.

Remmy: I love…love her, she shouldn’t do thish to me!

Me: Oh come on Remmy, you’re clearly overreacting. You need to get sobered up, I’m sure it’ll look better once you’re thinking clearly.

Remmy: Ah think…ah think…ah think ah’m gonna be sick.

…and sick he was, all over the bar room floor. I buried my head into my hands, trying to find out where people get the impression that I was their personal counsellor from. As Remmy looked set to hurl more of his lunch onto the floor, I quickly grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him as quickly as I could out of the building. The last thing I saw, was the pissed off look on the barman’s face as he examined what, up until a few moments ago, resided in Remmy Skye’s stomach.

Needless to say, I wouldn’t be drinking there again any time soon.

Me: I know, I know…I fucked up. But what the hell do you expect? You’ve been putting pressure on me since day one. I was trying to do something that would make people stand up and take notice of us.

By now, I’d lost track of time. It had to have been an hour since the argument started, and it didn’t look like it was going to stop any time soon.

Cliff: Well congratulations…not only did the fans shit all over it, you made Carlos (PRP) look like a joke in the process!

Me: But…

Cliff: …and to top it all of, he’s got a broken fuckin’ jaw to boot! I’d suspend Deacon (Hell Monkey) for being a reckless son of a bitch, but you know too well that I can’t seeing as he’s the champ.

Me: Look, just…

Cliff: Shut up. I’m beginning to think that hiring you wasn’t such a good idea. After hiring all those new guys, giving one of them the title off the bat, and now getting one of them put on the shelf? I may not be able to fire Deacon, but I can sure as hell fire you…

It’s amazing how quickly a problem or two changed his tune dramatically…

Me: Well go on then.

…calling his bluff wasn’t the smartest idea, but if it paid off I’d have a lot less to worry about.

Cliff: ……

Me: You seem to have forgotten that it was you who came to me, not the other way around. Desperation drove you to take a chance and bring in someone with no practical experience. What the hell do you expect from me? Just because I was a part of the SWF doesn’t mean I can turn this place into something similar over night. If you want to fire me, then go ahead and fucking do it. If not, just back the fuck off and let me try to do the job you seem to think I’m an expert at. I need to make these mistakes if I’m ever going to improve, and you jumping on my case every time isn’t doing either of us any favours!

He didn’t say anything, so I took the opportunity to push it a little further.

Me: Look, I can understand that you’re concerned. I’ve just waltzed in here and started making some big changes. But the fact is, for the first time in a few years CZCW is making money. The people I brought in are helping to shift merchandise faster than at any other time in the company’s history. We’re doing so well, that I spent the last few days going over some proposals. That is, before you started to rant about “how badly” a job I was doing. I’ve got them here, so if you’ve calmed down a little I’d like to go over them with you.

He paced back and forth for a few moments, I made sure never to lose eye contact with him. After what felt like hours, he sat down at his desk and looked up at me.

Cliff: …let’s hear it then…

I smiled nervously as I took a seat opposite him. In the heat of the moment I’d told a small lie. While it was true I’d been working on some ideas for the future, I hadn’t actually spent hours on it. In reality, twenty minutes in a bar and some notes scribbled on a paper napkin were all the work I’d put into it.

Me: Okay, if we’re ever gonna get any bigger, we need to start expanding. Building ourselves up here in California is good for a start, but I’ve been looking around Portland…

Just another little white lie of mine.

Me: …and I think we should really consider trying to expand up the west coast in the coming months. Farrah has a lot of familiarity with the area thanks to her work with AAA, and I’m sure she could be a big help in getting us exposure in the area. Gradually running a few shows there throughout the year should really help us in the long run, and shouldn’t cost a great deal more than running here in California.

Cliff: …Is that all?

Me: No, actually. My other idea, revolves around a few double shot shows. Right now, we’re just running small shows in the same building month after month. If we took a few of those shows, and spread them out over two night, and cranked up the budget a little, we could start having events that stand out from the pack. The earliest I think we could do this is April, that would leave plenty of time to work out the kinks.

Now all that was left was to settle his paranoia somewhat.

Me: …that is, if you think it’s in the best interests of CZCW.

After being read the riot act earlier, I needed to make him realise that he was still the boss. If he liked the ideas, and okayed them, he could feel like it was all his doing. I didn’t really care to be honest, he could have all the accolades. I just wanted to a chance to help the company grow. After a good minute, he rested his hand on his desk.

Cliff: …so be it. But be warned, I’m keeping an eye on you. The second I see something that could damage my company, you’re out on your ass…got it?

That was fine by me…

Okay, I'm still half asleep so I'll try and do this an easy way...

What I Liked

Raven Evenflowing Saturn and Kidman. I've never really been a fan of either man, so it was nice to see him lay them out. Whether or not a great deal comes of this, I guess we'll just have to wait and see.

The Kanyon/Golberg match also, as Corino mentioned was great booking as it kept Raven's problems with both men going in one match.

Jericho and Malenko's promo. While I agree with JStarr and felt something was a little off, there's no denying it was a solid promo leading into the match.

The match between Finlay and Meng...stiffness galore, and just an awesome pairing to throw into the ring.

Cage's debut should be fun to see.

I'm still the only person who likes the Hennig/Karagias storyline.

The Rising Sons winning the main event. Right now they're the best tag team in the diary, and should go over The Wolfpac to take the straps.

What I Didn't Like

The Duggan/Scorpion match didn't grab any interest at all, luckily it only lasted a few minutes.

In fact, this whole Blood Runs Cold angle is still a little hard to accept as anything but an OTT mess.

I didn't much care for Bagwell/Steiner, or Bagwell being the champ for that matter.

So over all, it's definitely a thumbs up from me.

1 - Valiant...Wrestler, Patriot, Tailor?

Instead of starting with a match, the second straight sell out crowd's attention is drawn to the two small screens on either side of the entrance way. American Elemental is standing alone, looking hesitant towards starting as Valiant is nowhere to be seen.

Elemental: Tonight...

That's the only word that leaves his lips, as Valiant leaps into shot wearing a mask much like the one Elemental is wearing.

Valiant: Never fear, Valiant is here!

Elemental simply stands there for a few seconds, staring at Valiant's cheesy grin poking out from under the mask

Elemental: What the hell are you doing?!

Valiant: We're a tag team, all the greatest tag teams have matching attires.

Elemental: You're...joking, right?

Valiant: Why would I joke about something like this?

Elemental shakes his head, before spotting another addition to Valiant's new costume.

Elemental: Is that...is that a cape?

He spins around, showing off the sequined cape in the form of an American flag.

Valiant: I spent all night making it, do you like it?

Elemental: ...what the hell made you think wearing a cape would be a good idea?

Valiant: Think about it, we're in the middle of a match. I get the hot tag, and the crowd goes wild! I grab my cape, and climb to the top rope before, BAM! Patriot Missile and the three count! I think I'd look like a super hero as I leapt off the top rope...

Elemental: ...I think you'd look like an idiot...

Valiant: But...but...

Elemental: Look, we're supposed to be talking about our match and not about your choice of wardrobe. So can we get back to business?

Valiant: ...fine.

Elemental: Okay then, tonight we...DAMMIT! I forgot what I was gonna say now thanks to you! Forget it, let's just get out of here before we miss the match...

Valiant: Can I still...

Elemental: ...no.

American Elemental walks off camera, leaving a dejected Valiant alone on screen.

Valiant: ...but I like the mask.

We kick things off in the ring tonight, with the most unpredictable match on the card. Three tandems, none of which have teamed together before, are looking to establish themselves as contenders for the titles. The most bizarre team enters first, as Jeremiah Moose shows very little emotion whatsoever. That is a stark contrast to his partner, Jimmy Foxx, who annoyingly dances his way down to the ring. Jack Giedroyc and Stuart Ferdinand enter together next, as Jack begins his search of a replacement for Joey Poison. Lastly The Patriots, the clear crowd favourites, enter and despite the protests Valiant is still wearing his cape with pride.

Anyone expecting a calm opening to this match was quickly disappointed. The second the bell rang, all six men hit the middle of the ring and a chaotic brawl ensued! It was enough to pump the crowd up a bit, as bodies went flying out of the ring one after another. With the number dwindling down, it was Ferdinand and Foxx who found themselves lucky enough to remain in the ring. This seemed to be enough for Jimmy to break out into a little dance, until getting the taste slapped out of his mouth by his veteran opponent! As the other four men fought into their respective corners, Ferdinand was free to teach the cocky youngster a thing or two about the fine art of wrestling. There was no flashiness, no showboating, only a solid all round display from the forty one year old that kept Foxx on the back foot until he was able to sneak in a thumb to the eye!

Tagging into Moose, the pair showed some surprising team work as they laid out the blinded Ferdinand and started putting the boots to him. Stuart sold the beating like a pro until Giedroyc got into the ring and cleaned house with a series of clotheslines! With the playing field level again, Jack hopped back onto the apron and called for the tag. However, still feeling the effects of having a thumb jammed into his eye, Stuart staggered into the wrong corner and tagged in American Elemental! The masked superstar leapt into the ring and used a rising Jimmy Foxx’s back to hit a beautiful Shooting Star Press onto Jeremiah Moose! It may very well have been enough to win the match, if it wasn’t for Giedroyc making sure the fight continued.

The action slowed down for a while after that, as Elemental showed his improving technical skill by working over Moose with a series of submission holds. Despite constant calling from Valiant, Elemental remained focused on wearing down Jeremiah. His refusal to tag out would prove to be costly, as he attempted a springboard moonsault. As his feet hit the ropes, Foxx swung and blasted him in the side of the head with a huge right hand! As Elemental’s body was thrown into the middle of the ring, Moose dragged himself over and tagged out. Much to the chagrin of the crowd, Jimmy climbed to the top rope and began a little impromptu gyration. It would come back to haunt him moments later, as he tried for a Flying Foxx (Frog Splash) but Elemental moved out of the way!

This was the moment Valiant had been waiting for. Both Foxx and Elemental slowly began moving towards their respective corners. The crowd was firmly behind Valiant as he reached out for the tag. Foxx made it to Moose, who jumped into the ring...and Valiant got the tag! He dove into the ring and knocked Jeremiah on his ass with a huge right hand! Giedroyc and Ferdinand both got into the ring, but they suffered the same fate with a series of right hands themselves! The young patriot was on fire as he threw both Jack and Stewart out of the ring, before dropkicking Jimmy Foxx off the apron! He then pointed to the corner where his cape was lying to a pop from the crowd. Fastening it around his neck, he ascended the turnbuckles. By this time Moose was slowly getting to his feet, oblivious to what was going on behind him. In fact, he didn't even see it coming as Valiant flew off the top rope and connected with a huge Patriot Missle (Top Rope Spinning Heel Kick) to the back of his head! Elemental returned to the ring to stand guard as Valiant covered the motionless Moose for the three count!

Our next match came about thanks to Strong’s victory over Sammy The Shark in last month’s opener. While it may not have set the world on fire, it was enough to secure him a shot at Plague’s Xtreme title. It was clear that he still had a long way to go though, as only a spattering of fans were more than lukewarm to his entrance. Even Plague, a certified heel was getting more of a face reaction than Strong was. But unlike last month, Erik didn’t seem to let it bother him too much, as he knew he had a chance to change their perception of him in this match.

The contest began with a short feeling out process, as the two quickly found out that there were fairly evenly matched. With both men packing a more than adequate aerial game under their belts, the pace naturally found itself picking up significantly in the following moments. Despite the youth and inexperience, it was Strong who took the lead, landing a few quick hurricanranas and a standing moonsault for a close two count. Plague bailed to the outside shortly after this, giving him the opening he needed to cheap shot Erik when he followed. Using what little leeway the ref would allow, a few shots into the ring post was enough to soften the youngster up. The brainbuster onto the floor that he delivered straight after it, was simply to add insult to injury. The champion’s decision to make do with a count out win didn’t sit well with the fans, to which he replied in less than flattering manner by flipping them off. That wouldn’t be the only flipping he did, as the second Strong looked to make it to his feet Plague vaulted over the top rope and wiped him out with a moonsault press!

It was hard not to applaud Plague’s athleticism, but it was more than easy to turn on his abrasive attitude towards he showed. All the while, Pee-Wee remained in the ring counting them out. The champ barely broke it by hauling Erik’s body back into the ring. He then tried to end it then and there with a quick cover, but Strong kicked out at the last second to a surprising pop from the crowd! This obviously wasn’t the outcome Plague was expecting, as he signalled for the New Jersey Turnpike (Shining Wizard). A few stomps to the head were more or less a precursor to what was coming, as the champ looked to take a good run at his dazed challenger. Erik naturally had no idea what was happening as he pulled himself up to one knee giving Plague the cue to charge full speed towards him…but Strong caught his leg! He may not be the most powerful wrestler alive, but no one could deny the force of which he sent Plague crashing into the canvas with from a desperation spinebuster!

They were back on a level pegging once again, both dazed and confused as they tried to pull themselves back to a vertical base. Thanks to his performance up to this point, the fans were gradually getting behind Erik. The pop he got when he made it to his feet was a thunderous ovation when compared to the whimper that accompanied his arrival. Plague wasn’t too far behind him, as the two staggered into the middle of the ring and drew upon their most base instincts with a series of stinging right hands to the other’s face! The slugfest continued for a good forty five seconds, with each punch taking slightly longer than the one before. In the end, it would be the challenger who prevailed as he ducked a swing and hit Plague with a huge Enziguiri! Dragging himself over the champion, he hooked the leg…but only got a two! He may not have got the win, but it did instil a second wind in him as he called out for the Strong Arm. Locking it in tightly, he took a moment to catch his breath…which was all Plague needed. The experienced wrestler got himself into a position to blast Erik right between the legs with a low blow! Strong crumpled down to his knees, clutching his crotch in pain. The ref, none the wiser, was forced to watch as Plague hit an easy New Jersey Turnpike to score yet another tainted title defence!

We follow one title match with another, as the Gilberts look set to successfully defend their titles for the first time. There was no doubt that this match would suffer in the long run, thanks to a distinct lack of someone to cheer. That didn’t stop both teams trying to heel it up as much as they could during their entrances. But when push came to shove, it was the champs that came off as the least heel like thanks to their more normal appearance as opposed to their freakish opponents.

Unlike last month, Insane Machine was more than happy to do his fair share of the leg work, knowing that The Gilberts had a lot of experience working together. Despite the lack of professionalism he showed, there’s no denying he’s a vastly underrated high flyer. Anyone who didn’t know that was getting a first hand look at it in the opening moments of the match, as he ran circles round Joe Gilbert hitting him hard and fast from every angle imaginable. He even managed to get a few near falls, and it was only thanks to the quick wits of Jesse that kept the champions in the match. Machine tagged out to Primal Rage, before racing across the ring and blasting Jesse off the apron!

This gave The Nightmares free reign over Joe, and they took full advantage. While they weren’t as experienced as their opponents in the art of tag team wrestling, they showed that they had a surprising array of tandem moves under their belt. Being the power of the team, it was Rage’s job to set up the moves. The most impressive of which, was a spinebuster/dropkick combo that saw Joe's head bounce off the canvas like a rubber ball! It was no surprises then, when Gilbert didn’t move for a good ten seconds. It was up to Jesse to give his brother time to get his bearings, as he jumped into the ring and tries to take on both Nightmares by himself. They did a good job of improvising a two on one situation until Joe started showing signs of life.

Drawing close to the ten minute mark, Joe finally began to get his bearings and make it back to his feet. This gave Primal Rage a cue to gorilla press Jesse over his head and toss him out to the floor! He then joined Insane Machine as they whipped Joe across the ring and planted him with a double flapjack. It wasn't enough, as Machine motioned for Rage to pick him up off the floor. He duly dragged Joe onto his feet, and held him in position as Machine left the ring and collected a chair. Pee-Wee tried to stop him, but was shoved to the ground as Machine swung...and connected with Primal Rage's head! Without batting an eyelid, Insane swung the chair again and laid out Gilbert too! Germaine, who missed both chair shots, took the opportunity to try and disarm Insane Machine. As the two argued over the chair, Jesse slid into the ring and switched placed with his brother! With the chair removed from play, Machine went for what he thought would be an easy win and ended up being rolled up for the three count!

5 - The CZCW Title Is His Devine Right

As the ring clears of the previous match's participants, "Mighty Fine" Darryl Devine's music starts to play. The arrogant young man saunters out through the curtain to a healthy dose of dislike from the crowd. In his left hand, he holds the ring bell he used last month. A fan in the crowd reaches out to touch him, stopping Devine in his tracks. With an angered look he turns to the fan, and fakes attempting to hit him with the bell! As the young man backs off from a blow that never came, the familiar cocky grin appears on Darryl's face. He finally makes his way into the ring, taking control of the mic and motioning for them to cut the music.

Devine: Last month, I made a point. That point being when you step into the ring with Darryl Devine it doesn’t matter whether you win or you lose. Because you’ll always end up staring at the lights when it’s all said and done. Brent Hill learned that the hard way. Sure, he beat me cleanly in the middle of the ring. But who was standing tall at the end? That’s right…Darryl Devine. Where was the victor in all of this? Lying flat on his back in a pool of his own blood courtesy of this *he lifts up the blood stained bell* right here. I got a lot of shit for what I did to him, but look at it this way. Did I get punished for my actions? No. Management knows that they’re onto a good thing with me, and handing out a suspension would only come back to haunt them. So despite my “horrendous” actions, here I am standing before you with a chance to fight for the CZCW title.

Which brings me to you Fox Mask. Last month, you were fighting for the title in the main event. You not only failed to win the belt, but you got your sorry ass pinned to boot. This month, well let’s just say history is gonna repeat itself. If you think you’ve got a chance of beating me, you better think again. Nothing, and I mean nothing is going to stop me from going to Over The Edge and facing the CZCW champion. This puissant promotion needs a superstar like me as it’s figurehead, not some pansy ass who hides behind a monkey mask. This is professional wrestling, and world titles deserve better than being held jokes pretending to be animals! That is why it’s my job to put things right. Tonight I put down the fox, and next month I put down the chimp. Then and only then, can CZCW start to rise to the top under my...

He's cut off, as Fox Mask's music begins to play! The fans cheer not only for the arrival of one of their favourites, but also for the simple fact that Devine has finally shut his mouth.

Fox wasted no time in hitting the ring, and barely dodged the oncoming ring bell shot from Devine! A few quick right hands was enough to force him to drop the weapon, before dropkicking him over the top rope and to the outside! He wasn’t finished yet, waiting for Darryl to get back to his feet before vaulting over the ropes with a perfect diving cross body! Unlike some of the previous matches, the fans were into this from the start as Fox Mask did his best to keep them interested as he threw Devine back into the ring.

After a hot opening minute or so, the next few were somewhat of a letdown by comparison. Devine tried to force Fox Mask into an exchange of holds, knowing that it wasn’t his strong suit. It worked for a short while, as he clearly outclassed him and took the lead quickly. What he wasn’t expecting, was for Fox to use his speed and agility to counter a hip toss and land on his feet! The second of confusion was all he needed to hit a quick super kick and almost steal the win. Using that brief window, Fox turned up the tempo by hitting Devine with a standing moonsault and a standing shooting star press straight afterwards! Despite this, it was still not enough to get the win as Darryl kicked out with desperation in his eyes. A quick point to the corner made Mask’s intention clear as he whipped Devine into the turnbuckles, before lifting him into a seated position on the top. His agility was never in question, but those who may have still been sceptical were quickly put at ease as he effortlessly leaped up to the top, and snapped Devine off in one swift motion with a huge frankensteiner!

The crowd popped big time as the two bodies hit the canvas at the same time. Fox Mask crawled over to Devine, hooking the leg as the fans count the three! They go nuts as Fox gets to his feet in celebration…but he’s brought crashing back down to earth as Pee-Wee tells him Devine just kicked out! This clearly isn’t the call that the crowd wanted to see, and it doesn’t get any better as Darryl rolls up Mask! Pee-Wee drops down and counts the fall…and Fox just kicks out as well! A mixture of pain and anger washes over Devine as he screams at Pee-Wee for supposedly counting too slowly. He grabs Germaine by the shirt, berating him like a madman, giving Fox enough time to plant him in the middle of the ring with a high angle backdrop! Instead of going for the cover Mask locks Devine into a Boston Crab, looking for an uncharacteristic submission victory!

Pushing up with his arms to try and lessen the pain, Darryl desperately tries to drag himself over to the nearest rope he can. Several times he comes close, but each time Fox is smart enough to pull him back into the middle and synch in the hold just a little tighter. The attempts to escape become longer and longer, as Devine looks as though he’s fading. The crowd begging him to tap doesn’t do him any favours either, as it only motivates Fox to apply more and more pressure. While he may be an asshole, there’s no denying the fight Darryl Devine has deep within him. Long after most people would have tapped out, he’s still dragging himself over to the ropes…and after a good several minutes in the hold he makes it to the ropes! A mixture of dismayed boos and appreciative applause echoes out through the Simmons Center as Fox looks all but ready to end the match.

Dragging Devine into the middle of the ring, Mask begins to climb up the ropes. Pee-Wee does the right thing, and checks on Darryl to make sure he’s still able to compete. It’s this show of compassion that allows him to launch a counter as he kicks Germaine into the ropes, crotching Fox Mask on the top turnbuckle! It takes Devine a few moments to get to his feet, but he knows Fox isn’t going anywhere in a hurry. Stumbling over to the corner, he holds out Mask’s arm in a crucifix position before pulling him out into the middle of the ring. He wobbles a few times, as the damage to his back has been considerable up to this point. But despite that, he’s still able to drill the cruiserweight into the canvas with a sit out powerbomb! Fox bounces into the air, ending up on his stomach a foot away from Devine. The fans aren’t too happy, as Darryl staggers to his feet and calls for the Devine Dream Drop! Pulling Mask to his feet…he stops as Brent Hill is seen walking down the aisle!

The fans pop as ‘the complete package’ stares a hole right through the man who laid him out last month. Devine tries to concentrate on the match, lifting Fox Mask onto his shoulders. But the presence of Hill is too big a distraction, and he feels obligated to remove it. Dropping Mask onto the floor causes him to roll into Pee-Wee, who naturally makes a meal of it and drops to his knees. That’s of no concern to Devine however as he tries to grab Brent, who by now has his back turned to him, and ends up being pasted in the head with the same ring bell he used last month! The fans are going nuts as Darryl slumps back into the middle of the ring, and Hill casually backtracks up the aisle with a smile on his face. It could have taken Fox Mask an eon to reach him, but only a few seconds pass before he’s able to get the cover, and the win!

7 – How The Main Event Came About

In what proved to be a mistake, the two small screens light up once the ring has cleared. A brief, and fairly poor quality, video begins to play recapping the title match from last month. It focuses on how Hell Monkey worked over PRP’s leg, before using a chair on it to make sure he couldn’t break up the pin on Fox Mask. It ends with a crude cut away to still shots of the two men in the main event, and a large “Next!” at the bottom. The fans seemed fairly unresponsive to this, much preferring to either hear from one of the participants, or go straight into the match itself.

Despite the ill timed video breaking down some of the fire the crowd had, it’s quickly regained as Puerto Rican Power walks out through the curtain. The near six and a half foot wrecking machine has an air of humanity surrounding him, as his right leg is heavily taped up from the assault he took at the hands of his opponent. There’s a noticeable limp, making it all too clear that the tape is there for more than just a precautionary measure. He’s in the ring for less than five seconds before the music switches to that of the champion. Despite being masked, you can almost tell he has a confident grin as he walks out through the curtain. The CZCW title dangles freely by his side as he takes his time walking down the aisle, making sure to never lose eye contact with Puerto Rican Power. Climbing into the ring, he casually tosses the belt to Pee-Wee before taking his place in the corner opposite PRP. When the bell finally rings, he pulls himself out and shows no fear as he stands toe to toe with the big man in the center of the ring.

He may be giving up five inches and nearly one hundred pounds to his challenger, but that doesn’t stop Hell Monkey firing the first shot! It’s enough to rock the big man, allowing him to hit a series of stiff chops and strikes before taking his first crack at the bullseye on his right leg. He manages to hit three well placed kicks to PRP’s massive thigh, before being wiped out by a clubbing clothesline! It only keeps him down for a short while, but it’s long enough for Power to shake the feeling back into his leg. As Monkey got to his feet, he was met with two more clothesline before being whipped across the ring with great force. His travel back wasn’t any more pleasant, as he was soon introduced into the canvas with a thunderous flapjack! PRP quickly tries to end it, but Monkey is nowhere near beaten enough to be kept down for the three.

Not to be deterred, Power drags the champion back to his feet and whips him across the ring again. Only this time, Monkey ducks the oncoming attack and fires off a stiff kick to the taped up leg! PRP yelps in pain as shot after shot connects with his leg, until he crumples down to one knee. Ever the opportunist, Hell Monkey takes this moment to switch targets and snap of a kick square into the middle of his challenger’s back! The force drops Power down into a crawling position, as Monkey steps back and takes a running start at his head…but misses the kick! PRP gears up with a short burst of energy and turns the champion inside out with a devastating lariat! The fans are going nuts now, as the challenger tries to bring himself back to his feet, but his right leg is clearly hurting as he holds onto the ropes for support. Hell Monkey on the other hand, can use both his legs freely, but is practically seeing stars as he staggers to his feet. Seeing a wounded PRP however, snaps him back to reality as he charges in…and eats a left boot to the face! Power pulls him to his feet and throws Monkey straight into the nearest corner. Knowing he can’t run while his leg is hurting, he resorts to simply pummelling the crap out of the champion with a myriad of punches, chops, elbows, and even a few headbutts for good measure!

Taking a moment to breath, Power is quickly on the offensive again as he lifts Monkey up onto the top rope. He tries to follow, but meets the point of the champ’s elbow into the top of his skull! That’s followed by a few quick kicks, giving him the chance to hop off the ropes and press his advantage. Forcing PRP into the corner, Hell Monkey looks around for a second before unloading with a rapid fire series of chops and punches! It goes on for a good minute, as all PRP can do is brace himself and absorb the assault. As Monkey beings to tire, Power’s chest has turned a deep red from the relentless beating. Yet through it all, he’s still got enough fight in him to shove Monkey back into the middle of the ring. The champ charges, but meets the challenger head on and takes another stiff lariat! Bruised and beaten, PRP hobbles to his feet and signals for the Destornillador (Steiner Screwdriver). Pulling up practically dead weight, PRP hooks him into the suplex and lifts him up…but his leg gives way and he drops Hell Monkey! Dropping to one knee, Power doesn’t see Monkey slowly getting to his feet behind him. It only takes a second for him to fire off a stiff kick right to the back of his head! PRP crumples to the mat, looking completely spend…but Hell Monkey doesn’t go for the cover. Instead he grabs PRP’s head, and starts laying in kick after kick square into his face! The fans boo him unmercifully as he sadistically continues to kick Puerto Rican Power in the face without any signs of resistance! Eventually Pee-Wee steps in, and forcefully pulls Hell Monkey away, but the damage is beyond done. Rolling the challenger onto his back, Monkey casually places one foot on his bruised chest and gets the merciful three count!

The boos turn to silence as Hell Monkey snatches the CZCW title and raises it high into the air with his foot still pressed on the chest of Puerto Rican Power. His face is now a bloodied mess, as he still hasn't moved after being kicked no less than fifteen times without any kind of protection. EMT's try to make their way into the ring, but refuse to do anything until Hell Monkey finally takes his foot away and heads for the back.

After getting bypassed for every fucking loser they could find for Drinking Game Mafia, if you don't put me in this I will kill your family and your pets and your neighbours and your neighbours families and your neighbours pets and your employers and your teachers and then a few clowns.

Eh, if it's the only way to get in...

1) I (along with Kulex and Zaz) was part of the first town group to win a mafia as the town.

2) I also did it despite being outed as the investigator for most of the game.

3) I'd like to think I'm at least a decent player despite never really having a whole lot to prove it.

4) I've been fairly active in every mafia I've participated in...bar Alphabet Mafia.

5) Metal Gear Mafia was one of my favourites to read/participate in (even though I was killed right at the beginning).

Again, predictions are welcome...and also on a slight note, do people prefer the card to have the little descriptions or just to show the matches?

Me: I know…yeah…don’t worry about a thing…I’m serious Jack, just trust me…okay, I’ll talk to you later then.

It was understandable that he was concerned about his future. With Joey heading back to Canada to work with NOTBW, Jack’s tag team and accompanying storyline had both been killed off. I wasn’t going to give up on him yet, and his phone call had only pushed me harder towards a solution. Over an hour had passed since I’d started, and the only thing I’d managed to conclude was that both singles titles were out of his reach. He was nowhere near the level of the Heavyweight title, and he wouldn’t really fit the high flying style of the Xtreme title. That left me, unsurprisingly, with the tag team titles. There were a few guys who he could realistically team with, but I knew it was going to be a little tougher than just picking one guy. If his teaming with Joey taught me anything, it was that I needed to make sure the pairing had chemistry before putting them over established teams…

Maybe I would have managed to finalise some kind of plan, if not for the door to my office opening. Through it, strode the ever colourful Remmy Skye. For a split second, my body froze until he gave me a smile. There was no way this could be bad news…right?

Remmy: Yo there boss man, I was wonderin' if ah could grab your ear for a minute?

It was no surprise that Remmy shyed away from using a microphone, his Georgian accent really didn't complement the natural charisma he was famous for.

Me: Uhhh...sure, just gimme a sec to straighten out all of this crap.

The booking plans that lay scattered on my desk slid off into an open drawer with one fell swoop.

Me: So, what can I do for you Remmy?

Remmy: Between you an' me, I ain't all that good when it comes ta' interviews...so ah think ah may have a solution...Bunnie?

He turned to the door, with his arm outstretched, and in walked...well, just take a look.

Remmy: Boss man, meet mah girlfriend Bunnie Carlos...she's pretty, no?

Me: Heh, yeah she is.

This caused Bunnie to blush, as Remmy beamed with pride.

Me: So, you want her to come in as your manager then?

Remmy: That I do boss man, Bunnie's bin takin' actin' lessons for months. She can't be no worse than I am on tha' mic, no?

While he was openly admitting it, I didn't really feel to comfortable flat out agreeing with him.

Me: Well Bunnie, I guess if you know what you're getting yourself in for...welcome aboard.

She shook my hand as I scribbled down a note to get some kind of agreement sorted out for her in the next few days, and they left shortly afterwards. I wasn't really looking to hire anyone else, but Remmy was one of the guys on the roster that had the most potential to rise to the top. With someone to do his talking for him, there was a chance that could happen sooner rather than later. All this did however was distract me from the still unresolved matter of what to do with Jack Giedroyc. All I could think of though, was the one thing I'd been saying quite a bit since joining CZCW.

Me: ...I need a drink...

After the previous night's encounter with a six foot plant, I made it my mission to take it easy for a while. It was fairly quiet thanks to it being the middle of the day, so I was fre to sit and relax for a while. That is, until I saw an advert on a run down old tv sitting above the bar.

Me: ...what the hell?

Barman: You ain't seen that before? Some crazy shit, I tell ya'.

The barman notice my reaction, and took the cue to strike up a conversation. The 'it' he was referring to, was an advert for the "Babes Of Sin City". Attempting to cash in on the amount of perverts in the world, BoSC was little more than a bunch of scantilly clad women parading around with a little wrestling thrown into the mix. At first I wasn't too bothered about it, after all they were in Nevada and we were in California.

Barman: Seems like those chicks are kicking up a storm in Vegas.

Then again, he was right. Solely thanks to their main focus being giving guys something to letch over, they were already more nationally known than us. Still, I hoped that they would soon fizzle into the background by the time we'd outgrown the Simmons Center. Or at least I hoped they would...

After a few more beers, and a lengthy chat with the barman, I returned to the office with every intention of straightening out all the kinks for the next show. But as was the story of my life, I got interrupted before I had a chance to do anything significant. It appeared that my earlier phone call had done nothing to suppress Jack's doubts, as he showed up less than two minutes after I'd settled down behind my desk.

Jack: There you are! I showed up earlier, but you'd buggered off somewhere!

Me: I was just round the corner having a drink.

Jack: You're not even taking my situation seriously, are you?

I took a moment to pull out the wad of papers from my drawer, and spread them across the surface of my desk.

Me: Quite the opposite actually. In fact, it was your situation that prompted me to grab some fresh air in the first place.

Jack: Oh...

he slumped into the chair opposite me, a lot of his angst slowly disappeared.

Me: Look, when I said trust me...I meant it. Sure, I don't have a solid plan yet but I'm not going to give up on pushing you just because Joey's gone back to Canada. There's potential with you in the tag division, we've just got to find the perfect partner for you. It may not happen this month; it may not even happen next month. But eventually, we'll find the guy who's perfect to be your partner...okay?

Jack: Yeah...I guess so.

Me: I've already been lining up some guys for you to work matches with, so I'm gonna try and spread it out over the next few shows, and try to work a story around it. That way, you're not just being thrown into random matches for the sake of it. So do yourself a favour, and stop worrying about it. It's not gonna do you, or anyone else any favours if you're working under stress.

He didn’t bother saying anything else, he just nodded and quietly left the office. Just once, I wished I could get through a day without having someone freaking out or leaving me high and dry…

OOC: Just a little note, I found a Wrespi 2 scenario (I think) that was converted over to TEW2005. So I used that to import a few more feds/workers/etc, which is why I mentioned BoSC earlier in the update. It shouldn't really affect me much, but it's a little extra to work with in the coming months.

Me: Ugh, I need a drink…

????: Come on, it wasn’t that bad.

The voice belonged to Farrah Hesketh, CZCW's resident optimist.

Me: How can you possibly say that? Darryl and Marcus (Fox Mask) both managed to escape getting concussions, Jack and Joey managed to piss David (Insane Machine) off which nearly ruined the tag match, and the fans practically crapped all over the opening match!

Farrah: Well yeah, you can sit and point out all the negatives if you want. I prefer to look at the positives...the fans really enjoyed the main event, The Patriots could turn out to be a great tag team, and despite all off your negatives the fans still went home happy. I don't know why you would want to dwell on the downs instead of embracing the ups.

Me: Fine, the show wasn't that bad, but it doesn't change the fact that I really need a drink...care to join me?

I wasn't asking her out on a date, as much as I'd have liked to, I just wanted to make sure someone was there with me. After the accident and the months of drowning my sorrows, I thought I'd sworn off drinking for good. But here I was, not feeling 100% and all I could think about was getting plastered. There was a good chance I'd hit my limit and just keep on going; at least with Farrah there I'd have a reason to take it slow.

Farrah: You buying?

Me: I wouldn't have it any other way.

Farrah: So...what was working for the Eisen's like?

Not exactly the topic of conversation I wanted to pursue, but I guess a little reminiscing couldn't hurt.

Me: It’s probably exactly how you’d imagine it to be. When you’re part of SWF, you’re just a tiny cog in a machine that never stops running. You try to catch your breath, and the next thing you know everyone’s passed you by and you’re on your own.

Farrah: Is that what happened to you?

I was surprised she didn’t know. Most of the roster had heard about my accident thanks to Eric Eisen being involved. I didn’t bother saying anything; after all I didn’t need to. Showing her the two large scars running down my legs was enough of an explanation.

Me: The pace wasn’t the problem.

Farrah: …so what was?

I shook the half empty beer bottle in my hand.

Me: I just didn’t know when enough was enough. I’m actually surprised you haven’t heard the story. It’s not every day someone nearly kills one of the Eisen family…

Farrah: Well, obviously I had heard about what happened…I just didn’t know who was involved.

Me: Now you do…

I downed the last of the beer, and slid the bottle across the bar where it joined a small collection that had been building up over the evening.

Me: So…what now?

Farrah: I think we should call it a night. It’s getting late, and I’ve got a AAA show tomorrow evening.

Me: Well then, shall we…

The phone buzzed silently against my leg, cutting me off mid sentence. Taking it out of my pocket, I looked at the unknown number before flipping it open.

Me: Hello?

The Canadian accent on the other end could only belong to one person. Joey kept it brief, hanging up less than twenty seconds later.

Farrah: …who was that?

I slumped back onto the bar stool after stuffing the phone back in my pocket.

Me: Joey…he wants to see me in the morning, says he’s got something important to discuss. You should really get going, I think I’m gonna stick around here for a little while longer.

Farrah: Are you sure that’s a good idea?

Me: Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.

I don’t think she left brimming with confidence, but she left nonetheless. I sat there quietly for a few seconds, mulling over what it could be that he needed to see me about. Naturally the only thing I could think of was that he’d been signed away, especially after losing Snap Dragon, Frank, and Jenny earlier in the month. I was so wrapped up with my thoughts, I completely missed the barman standing in front of my waiting for my order. I pointed over to the pile of empty bottles by my side.

Me: …and keep em’ comin’.

I couldn’t remember when I managed to stagger back to my apartment, or even when I left the bar. But the burning question I was faced with, was where the hell I managed to get a near six foot potted plant from. When you don’t remember dragging something that big home, you know you were far too drunk. As much as I hated the idea, getting drunk had helped forget a lot of the problems from the night before. But yet I still remembered, and dreaded, meeting with Joey.

Me: …shit….

A meeting, which at the moment I was over half an hour late for.

Me: I’m sorry to keep you waiting so long, I had a really rough night…

I looked like I’d ran through a tornado to get to the office. Trying to blow through my morning routine with a terrible hangover in less than ten minutes…it wasn’t the most ideal way to start a day.

Me: …so what can I do for you.

Mid sip of piping hot coffee, I saw the look in his eyes as he reached into his jacket.

Joey: I got this in the mail this morning. North Of The Border are interested in bringing me in to work a program with Duane Stone. It’s not every day that a chance like this shows up, ya’ know?

Me: …yeah, I know.

Was it even worth bothering to get him to stay? Like he said, he’d be working with Duane Stone…we didn’t have anyone that could match that kind of talent.

Me: Well then, I guess this is goodbye Joey. Good luck with the Stones, you deserve it.

Just like that, I’d lost yet another member of the roster. It really didn’t sink in straight away, but now I had a dilemma on my hands. He and Jack were set to run with the tag titles in a few months, and now I’d put them over The Nightmares for nothing. This was really going to piss Insane Machine off even more than he already was. Not only that, but Jack was now stuck with nothing to do. The only upside to all of this, was it happened early in the month. Sure it threw a wrench into the works, but at least we had time to work around it…

Yeah, they're pretty much the Cornellverse's indy darlings ¬_¬

Ugh, I was hoping to never have to get another PS2 game once I'd got FFXII...

As always, predictions are welcome, but seeing as it's only the first show there won't be a prize for the winner. I also apologise for what I feel has been pretty shoddy writing up until this point...it's proving to be a pain in the ass to get used to this again.

I was sitting in my office looking over the card for Christmas Chaos, all but ready to get it made official. Something inside me hesitated for a moment, but I couldn’t figure out why. The knock on my door a few moments later, would provide an answer.

Me: Come in…

The door opened, and in walked Jenny Playmate, Honest Frank, and our heavyweight champion. My stomach twisted uncomfortably as I dropped the card face down on my desk.

Me: What can I do for you three?

I didn’t need to ask, their faces said it all. Each one went to hand me a folded up collection of papers, but I just sighed.

Me: So when are you leaving?

Jenny: Straight away…

Frank: …me too…

Dragon: Not until the end of the week.

Frank and Jenny I wasn’t overly upset about. Neither had debuted yet, so it wouldn’t cause any problems to see them go. But Snap Dragon…

Me: Can’t you at least hold off until after Christmas Chaos?

Dragon: I tried to get them to let me stay, but Eisen was pretty insistent.

It didn’t surprise me to be honest. He probably caught wind of my new job, and decided to fuck with me just because he could

Me: I understand, a chance like this doesn’t come along every day. Make the most of it, okay?

He nodded, placing the title on the edge of my desk before following Jenny and Frank out of the office. I sat there in silence for a moment, soaking up what would only be the first in a long line of obstacles thrown in my path. I had to resist the back down and admit defeat, as the card was now useless and would need to be overhauled.

It took an extra day, and another lecture from Cliff but the new card was finished with a few weeks to spare. I sat down and poured myself a drink to celebrate, until my office door opened and Stuart Ferdinand hobbled in on a pair of crutches.

Me: Jesus, what the hell happened to you?

Stuart: It’s my hamstring. I was working out with some of the guys earlier today, and I pulled the damn thing. The doctor says I've got to take it easy for at least a week, so I should be fine again for the show.

I’d have preferred my drink to still be a celebratory one, but I downed it knowing that it was one of relief. Echoing the doctors, I told him to take it easy and stay at home until show time.

If these problems kept springing up like this, it was going to be a long two weeks…

Is this 2005 or 2007?

You have Donnie as Champion, and have owner goals, which suggests 2007.

But you called it Coastal Zone Combat Wrestling, only have $25k and have signed Brent Hill, Giedroyc and E.M.M. Moe, which points the finger at 2005.

When I agreed to take the job, I didn’t really know what I was letting myself in for. It quickly hit me like running head first into a brick wall. For a promotion tipped for big things in the future, the roster was pretty bare. Not only that, but so was the amount of money available. A barely workable budget of only $25,000 laughed in my face. With several workers demanding around $1,000 an appearance, it was clear that changes would have to be made…and quick. I sat with Cliff, and talked about exactly what my job entailed. The booking came up first and foremost, which I expected. He also gave me the responsibility of hiring and firing talent. On the one hand it was a good thing, as it let me fix the problems. On the other, telling some of these guys they were fired wasn’t something my bad legs were looking forward to.

Still, it had to be done. First on the list, was the former TCW duo of Jimmy P and Donnie J. While they were both decent wrestlers, their combined price tag wasn’t going to do our budget any favours. Surprisingly, they took the news well as they felt with their TCW experience they could get a more high profile job somewhere else. The other man on the list, E.M.M Moe, was another decent worker but little more than a go to guy in putting others over. He was a little less accepting of his new found unemployment, but thankfully didn’t resort to violence of any kind.

A day or so later, I handed over a list of people I wanted Anderson to get in touch with about coming in for some shows. After one look over it, his exact words were ‘Are you fuckin’ crazy?!” Apparently he didn’t understand the idea of firing three people, then going out to bring in over triple that. While CZCW had talent on the roster, they really lacked a group that were well recognised in the wrestling world. It took some convincing, but I eventually won Cliff around by satiating his desire to see the company expand beyond the California coast. The top four names on the list, were intended to transform the non-existent main event scene. Cobbled together from free agency and various indy promotions, we were able to arrange deals with Puerto Rican Power, Brent Hill, Darryl Devine, and the cult favourite Hell Monkey. I fully expected one, or even all of them, to be signed away at any given time, but until then I fully intended to take advantage of their popularity.

Once the contracts were finalised, I turned to the under card. The roster was filled with guys that were talented in one or two areas, but there were very few who could work with anyone at any given time. It was with that in mind that I brought in Jack Giedroyc, his cousin Joey Poison, Erik Strong, youngster Sammy The Shark, and veteran Stuart Ferdinand. Dropping three guys to bring in nine was starting to look crazy even to me, but I reassured myself that this was merely to provide a little variety on the shows. Cliff once again voiced his disapproval, but all it took was another ego stroking to get him off my back. It couldn't have come at a better time, because I wasn't quite done yet. With the competitive roster sorted, I still had to fill out the other areas. With no managers at all, the less charismatic workers were really going to suffer. Luckily, there were a few talented corner men (and women) floating around the smaller independents that readily accepted another pay day. Herb Stately and Honest Frank came in from NYCW, both experienced at being the mouthpiece of a heel, while Jenny Playmate was just happy to be finally working again after being dropped by CGC.

My last job was to secure a building for us to run shows in. Luckily, there was a small place called The Simmons Center not too far away from my new apartment. Because of it’s small size, it regularly ran wrestling shows for companies passing through the area. For someone with as little experience as me, I was quickly finding my feet as the days passed. With a show set to run only a few weeks later, everything seemed to settle down…at least for a day or two. In what was supposed to be one of my few days off, Cliff called me into his office and I knew it wasn’t going to be a good talk. It was as though he set out to throw everything at me to see if I could survive without sinking. After sorting a lot of things out with CZCW, he presented me with three goals. Increase the promotions standing in the wrestling world, ensure our image didn’t get any lower than it already was, and bring in as much money as I could without going below our initial $25,000. It seemed like a tough task considering my recent actions, but thankfully I was given just under a year in which to do it. Even for someone like me, these were doable…right?

Coastal Zone Combat Wrestling: Taking On The World

Tommy Cornell, Runaway Train, Jack Bruce, Christian Faith.

...just four names that even the most casual of wrestling fan will know instantly...

Supreme Wrestling Federation, Total Championship Wrestling.

...two of the biggest wrestling promotions in the world...

Coastal Zone Championship Wrestling.

...who?

Chances are, that unless you live in the South West of the United States the initials CZCW don't mean squat to you. Even then, you just might be aware of it's existence. A tiny blip on the wrestling map, CZCW is the very definition of "The Little Engine that Could". Despite not being the flashiest or the richest promotion in the US, Coastal Zone is still tipped to be one to watch out for in the future. With a core roster of talent including Plague, Remmy Skye, and Frankie Perez, the sky is the limit on what the company can achieve.

All they were lacking, was a leader...and that's where I come in.

Wrestling is my life, for as long as I can remember it's always been there. Growing up, my family was heavily involved in wrestling, and I idolised guys like Sam Strong and Rip Chord. To me it didn't get much better than that, and it was always clear as to what I was going to to do with my life. By the time I was twenty three, the passion was as strong as ever, and I easily got a place into the SWF Training Camp. Six months later, I graduated top of the class with a bright future ahead of me.

But apparently, it just wasn't meant to be.

I spent a lot of time with Eric Eisen during my time in the training camp, we were inseperable. On the days I wasn't training, we'd go out and party. Thanks to the Eisen name, it was easy for us to get into any club we wanted to. We always made sure one of us was sober enough to drive home when the night was over, but it only took one mistake. My graduation was the perfect reason to go out and celebrate, and I wasn't intending on being the designated driver...but neither was Eric. In no fit state to drive, I stupidly got behind the wheel...and well, you can guess what happened next. I was surprised I got so far without having an accident, especially seeing as I couldn't focus on the road for more than a few seconds. It took one blink for the oncoming car to appear out of nowhere, and then everything went quiet.

Luckily nobody died in the accident, my wrestling career however was DOA.

I spent months in hospital with two broken legs, Eric however was unharmed. He tried his best to calm down Richard, but to no avail. I was effectively blackballed from SWF on the spot for not only putting Eric in danger, but also forcing the writing team to scrap my first storyline. I was out of a job with two busted legs, and Eric was told if he ever came near me again he'd be disowned too. It came as no surprise to me when I didn't hear from him again. I left hospital shortly after, and sank into a depression of alcohol and pills. Life without wrestling wasn't one that I wanted to drag myself through. To the rest of the world, I was as good as dead...and I didn't care at all.

But somehow, someone managed to find me.

I'd heard of Cliff Anderson before, thanks to his well travelled independent career. I didn't however, know that he'd started up his own promotion. It was a matter that was soon rectified with a phone call, and an out of the blue offer. Why he wanted me, I didn't know. So it was the curiosity alone that caused me to pick myself up and travel down to meet him. The pokey surroundings of CZCW was a far cry from the heady heights I was looking at prior to my debut with SWF. Cliff talked to me for over an hour about how CZCW had been going now for fifteen year, and still hadn't made a great deal of progress. The fan base was there, but it needed the spark that would launch it further. He knew I couldn't work anymore thanks to my legs, but offered me the chance to help him backstage. My six months backstage with SWF seemed to be all that I needed to qualify. I had spent a lot of time hanging out with Eric at SWF shows, and had taken a shine to the booking process. Sure I never had any hands on experience, but I'd seen how the best worked. Everyone has to start somewhere, so why not give CZCW a shot?

A few days later, it was official. Cliff introduced me to the roster, and I dove head first into the task of trying to bring Coastal Zone out of the South West, and into the mainstream.

The last one was awesome, so sign me up again (Y)

This is a little unusual, but I'm going to call out the second string here.

LCS, Xero Gravity, crazedfan, MEG, myself, and maybe even Be.

If GoGo, oldskool, and/or TEOL get Mafia/serial killer roles, we're the best the town's got. So let's see NONE of us just sliding by without contributing, that's what the rest of the crew is for. Think logically, question everything.