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Force Twelve Wrestling

ClaRK! Kent

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Part 1

How do you think Vince McMahon got rich? By writing lots of cheques? Wrong answer, my friend, wrong answer. Whilst the man’s PR team would have you believe that he is a self-made man, a billionaire off of his own back, and the benevolent owner of the world’s largest grossing wrestling promotion, one of the more successful entertainment companies in the world, the grim reality is just about as far from the story peddled to the masses. I mean, come on, it’s an ‘American Dream comes true’ story, and how often are they what they look to be?

In truth, Vince McMahon learned early on in his career what it took to be successful. The old adage of ‘to make money, you’ve got to spend money’ only goes so far, and in the world of wrestling it’ll only give you cult exposure before you start treading water. That’s where McMahon found himself in the mid-80s, a cult following with little hope of breaking that elusive barrier to national television exposure. The historians would have you believe that WrestleMania, and everything it entailed, was what broke that barrier, but they’re all on the payroll, so how can you trust them? WrestleMania, television, global dominance - none of that could have happened without the deal done one night in New York city, ironically enough in one of those same smoke-filled bars the business would soon leave behind, in late 1983.

There’s always been an underworld connection to wrestling, even when it was a ‘real’ sport covered by the print media and not scorned by the uninitiated. Back in the old days, double-crosses were rife, screwjobs weren’t just a fancy term thrown around by colour commentators, and the underworld ruled everything. A lot of money is made betting on sports, and the Mafia could make a sweet buck fiddling the odds on a man they knew would win, or ‘arranging’ the result to their own ends by any means necessary. What nobody really expected was for this ugly dark side to the business to resurface in the middle of the eighties. But, then again, the decade was ruled by greed, ambition, and the dollar, so perhaps we’re naïve to be surprised - judge for yourself. One of New York’s biggest Mafia families at the time, the DiFrancos, financed McMahon’s drive for the top, influenced the Pay-Per-View deal that saw WrestleMania become the biggest event in the world, and in almost every refitted the World Wrestling Federation. With McMahon’s drive and vision, and the DiFranco family’s money, the company soon sat atop the wrestling world.

Of course, things are never that simple. In return, the Mafia wanted a stake in the business, and a say in how things were run. For a while, McMahon put up with this, but by the end of the decade his ambition was burning, and being the lapdog to the DiFrancos no longer suited his objective. Nobody really knows what happened, but one night in October 1989, most of the DiFranco family was slaughtered in their sleep, and Vince McMahon emerged, rather suspiciously, as the sole inheritor of the family estate. It seems pretty clear that McMahon arranged the incident to free himself from the shackles of the family’s hold on his business, something that has always been vehemently denied, almost as vehemently as the suppression of the details and the link between McMahon and the DiFrancos itself. Over the next decade or so, the WWF went from strength to strength, crushing any opposition in its path, leaving Vince McMahon one of the wealthiest men on Earth.

These days, Vince McMahon is amongst the most powerful men in America, even the world. He has a finger firmly placed into almost every underworld pie you can name, and his Mafia connections are stronger than ever - only now, he’s running the show. I guess you can take the man out of the Mafia, but you can never take the Mafia out of the man, or words to that effect. If a politician wants to win a campaign, Vince McMahon can make it happen. How do you think those ‘Swiftboat Veterans for Truth’ guys showed up out of the blue this year? And, rigged polls aren’t a Florida specialty, you know, McMahon can make it happen in any polling station in America, for the right price. In return, those politicians turn a blind eye to what goes on behind closed doors at Titan Towers, and are always on hand to sort out any problems with the law that McMahon finds himself in, or arrange generous out-of-court settlements for even the most persistent of opponents. In terms of the wrestling world, the power wielded by the WWE is absolute. If you’ve got a good idea or a catchy gimmick, or anything like potential, and you get off of the ground, you’ve done well. The list of promotions that Vince McMahon has had bumped off reads like a who’s who of broken dreams and good ideas wasted - WWA, XWF, MLW, ECW… the list goes on and on. WCW is pretty much the only wrestling company that has legitimately gone out of business in the last ten years, everybody else seems to be scared off or mysteriously run out of the funds that they could have sworn they had weeks before. ECW was destroyed by a combination of smear campaigns, intimidation, and fiddled bank balances, and Paul Heyman’s only hope was to suffer the humiliation of signing onto the McMahon payroll and seeing his creation gutted like a cheap fish. Rob Feinstein’s run-in with the law was almost entirely pre-arranged by people within McMahon’s organisation, Cort Bauer’s monetary problems and history of ‘card subject to change’ bluffs stink of McMahon’s work… you get the picture. Of course, over twenty years with the mob, he’s become incredibly clever, and not a single incident can be traced back to Titan Towers. The FBI has a file on McMahon that has to be kept in its own filing cabinet, but it’s filled with empty threads, wasted lines of enquiry, witnesses that have met grisly accidents, and nothing resembling a lead that can be taken to court. All in all - Vince McMahon is the most powerful man in wrestling, and he’s totally untouchable.

How do I know all of this? My late brother was an investigative journalist who first noticed the suspicious circumstances of the WWF’s rise to power and the tenuous links between McMahon and the mob about six years ago. He went undercover, into the midst of the organisation, and over the next four years he uncovered as much as he could, trying to piece it all together. The trouble was, he got too close. I don’t know exactly what set off the panic button inside the organisation, what my brother found or who betrayed him, all I know is that about two years ago now I received a package from him containing some money, an address in New Jersey, a sealed letter to his girlfriend, and a note reading ‘They’ve found out, I’m done - John.’ The next day, the local news was splashed with pictures of my brother’s apartment, and John being carted away in a body bag - shot dead. The police had found drugs in the house, and it was put down to drug-related murder. That’s bullshit, and I know it. My brother never touched drugs in his life, he was straight-edge and practically hit the roof back in high school when he learned I’d tried dope with my friends. McMahon had him killed, and he had those drugs planted.

The address in New Jersey was a lock-up, a storage facility that John had used to keep all of his files and cuttings before he died. He’d transported the last load down to the lock-up the night he was killed, and I travelled down that morning to check it out. As it turns out, I made it just in time. I got a call that night from the guy who owned the place - just an hour or so after I’d left with the contents, the lock-up had been burned down. That was what sealed it for me - McMahon was trying to destroy anything that linked him to the murder of my brother. But, for once, his thoroughness let him down. He didn’t know that I’d emptied the lock-up, his goons didn’t check, and everything that John found was in my possession. There’s nothing concrete, of course, but enough to prove in my mind, beyond a shadow of a doubt, every last accusation.

Why am I telling you this? Because it’s important you know the truth. For two years I’ve saved every penny I own, living on leftovers and canned beans to get by, throwing everything into my savings account. When I left Yale, I got a job working for an IT firm as it was getting off of the ground. We’re now one of the biggest IT companies on the East Coast, and I don’t want to be modest but I’d like to think a large part of that is down to me. Five years of hard work has paid off with a multi-million dollar company, but even that is going to be a walk in the park compared to what I have planned now.

$750,000. That’s what I have in my possession, from savings and what John left me, that’s what I’m going to use to pull this off. Vince McMahon took my older brother from me - the guy I confided in when I had problems, the guy I watched wrestling on TV with as a kid, the guy who became a fanatic with me, the guy who tried to uncover the truth and paid for it with his life. I can never take away from McMahon what he’s taken from me, but I can come close. I can’t do it through the legal system, and I sure as Hell can’t go all Kill Bill and try to kill my way through the organisation - that's a surefire way to a gruesome death. That only leaves one option - I take him down on the wrestling circuit, I knock his company off of the top spot and I don’t stop until it’s dead, just like John. Now you know why I’m telling you this - I’m signing my own death warrant, it’s important that there’s a record left behind, some truth in this world of lies and cover-ups. It’s suicide, of course, but what do I have to lose? McMahon has already taken my brother away from me. Kris Kristofferson once said that freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose - I’m free, and I’m going to take Vince McMahon down…

End of Part 1

-- I'm acutely aware that the backstory for this is slightly or more similar to the legendary backstory to LAW. I wasn't aware of this until I proof-read it, I just wrote what came to my head and noted the links. I promise you this is no rip-off, just to deflect any criticism of that sort before it begins. Any feedback on the backstory would be welcome at this stage.

-- Anybody who remembers me from the last time I was at EWB might like to PM me and say hello/shill their diary. I've missed you crazy lot whilst I've been without a PC.

Raven's Kid!


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Part 2...

It’s been a long, hard slog, but here we are. Force Twelve Wrestling opened just a few hours ago, and I’m now sitting in my office - which also doubles as the front room of my one-bedroom apartment in Manhattan - with a hard month of work ahead of me if I want to get this show on the road. My old secretary from work, Sophie, has agreed to come on board with this venture for pretty minimal pay. I think she hated it where we used to work anyway, and she’s a wrestling fan so she basically jumped at the chance, although technically she’s on my payroll and not the promotion’s at this time.

We’ve been trawling through the East Coast indies since I pitched her this idea about a month ago, trying to find talented workers on the cheap, people we can hopefully make stars out of. It’s been one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do, in fact, but on February 1st we have something which resembles a roster…

Alicia Webb (face)

Alicia is a manager, probably one of the most charismatic talkers in the business, all told. She’s working for us because this ability doesn’t seem to have translated into draw, and the big promotions haven’t really picked up on her. Their loss. She’ll be playing a babyface in FTW, playing a sexy secretary more than slightly moulded on Sophie, not that I’d tell either of them that.

Ash Parker (face)

Ash is a veteran of the East Coast indies, and a skilled technical wrestler who can also work with high-fliers as well. In FTW, he’ll be tugging on our fans’ xenophobic tendencies and government-inspired patriotism, going by the moniker ‘All American’ Ash Parker, finishing with a rocker-dropper called the Patriot Drop.

Chance Beckett (heel)

Also working for ECCW, although he assures me he can juggle the dates, Chance Beckett is a good, solid high flier who can work the mat game as well. His gimmick is that of a guy who never had a chance in life, has been let down by everyone and everything, and is set to take out his frustration on anybody who gets in his way. He finishes with either the Chance Encounter or the Fat Chance submission hold.

Colt Cabana (heel)

As one of the renowned Second City Saints in ROH, Colt is one of our biggest names. He’ll be working in our main event bracket as a heel, using the ‘Straight Edge’ routine. For those who are unaware, Colt is charismatic, a fantastic technical wrestler, and more than passable as a brawler and high-flier - the complete main event package.

Damien Steele (heel)

The most established name on the FTW roster, and a former XPW man. He’s now traded West for East Coast, and is a great addition to our main event. He’s a technical wrestler and a brawler, and he’ll be playing his ‘Real Deal’ gimmick from XPW, best described to the uninitiated as ‘arrogant.’ He finishes, as ever, with the Dealbreaker.

Greg Pawluk (face)

Pawluk is probably the most gifted wrestler on our roster in terms of a single style - nobody does technical wrestling like he does. In the mould of Chris Benoit, Greg has no gimmick to speak of, but will be pushed according to what he does in the ring. He finishes with a truly painful version of the Stretch Muffler, and has also been known to employ a T-Bone Suplex to put opponents away.

Jamie Koeppe (heel)

As opposed to Alicia Webb, Koeppe is the other side of the female manager spectrum - she basically plays a bitch, who will use any and every means necessary to help the men in her corner win, and to attract new clients. She’s a great talker to boot, and really brings the gimmick to life.

Jay Lethal (heel)

At the age of only 22, Lethal has already worked for some of the biggest indy promotions on the East Coast, and is a regular with ROH today. He has fantastic charisma, and is a great all-round wrestler, definitely one of the most talented men on the FTW roster. He’ll be playing a rude, abrasive degenerate, and he’ll be finishing with his patented Lethal Injection.

Lance Silva (heel)

Silva is another common face on the East Coast scene, although not a very famous one. He’s a great high flier, though, one of the best in FTW. He plays a cocky ladies’ man, who women love and men hate, and he’s got the charisma and the look to make it work. He finishes with a maneuver called Save The Last Dance.

Lizzy Borden (heel)

What do you do when your husband’s porn empire crumbles and you lose everything? You move to New York and find work with FTW, in Lizzy’s case. Fans of XPW will know her gimmick - some have called it ‘slut’ but we here prefer to refer to it as ‘seductive.’ Lizzy will be managing her former XPW comrade Damien Steele.

Navy Seal (face)

At 32, Navy Seal is the oldest man on the FTW roster, and hopefully a voice of experience backstage. He’s a solid old-school brawler who can also mix it up in the air, and talk when he needs to. As his name suggests, he uses an armed forces gimmick, once again pandering to the blind patriotism of the crowd, and he finishes with a top-rope flipping neck breaker known as the Elite Force.

Ricky Marvin (face)

Marvin is an incredibly-talented luchadore who also works for CMLL in Mexico, although he too promises me he can manage both sets of dates. He’s a luchadore in both gimmick and style, playing the typical Mexican wrestler and exhibiting the lucha libre style in the ring. He finishes with a flying hurricanrana called the Ricky Rana.

Roderick Strong (heel)

Strong is the total package - a great brawler, solid technical wrestler, and credible aerial artiste. He’s got a good look to him and he’s only 20 years of age, which means he’s got a bright future ahead of him. We’ll be pushing Strong on his abilities and not his gimmick, although his tendency to break rules and annihilate opponents leaves him as a clear heel. He finishes with the CX 03’.

Ryan Wing (face)

Wing calls himself ‘Sure Thing’, largely because of his amazing aerial skills and all-round high-flying ability. He’s a good talker as well, for this level, and he plays the typical cruiserweight ‘highlight reel,’ performing daring stunts and crazy spots to win over the crowds. He finishes with the Sureshot, and also uses a corkscrew moonsault known as the Suresault.

Sean Casey (face)

‘Sexy’ Sean Casey is a well-known name on the independent scene, and our most well-known babyface. He’s an all-rounder, working well with both high-flying and technical styles, and he’s got a great look that really justifies his nickname. He’ll be playing the typical cocky-yet-adored face role, managed by Alicia Webb. Casey’s finishing maneuvers are a flying elbow and a Blockbuster.

The Foreigner (heel)

In the most ironically-original gimmick on the roster, The Foreigner plays on the typical ‘evil foreigner’ gimmick by playing a menacing foreign heel of unknown origin, who is announced as hailing from a different country every show. Bizarre, yes, but he’s got the charisma to pull it off, and is a solid brawler and a great high-flier in the ring. Foreigner finishes with a modified-tazzplex that takes the name of whichever country he hails from at the time.

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Part 3...

It’s February 7th, it’s cold outside, and I’m stuck indoors. I hate being inside for long periods of time, it reminds me of when my parents used to punish me for being bad, I guess. The kids in the neighbourhood played baseball outside in the summer, and if me and John had been ‘fighting’ then we’d be grounded indoors so we couldn’t play. John and I never fought, really, we just wrestled, but my parents didn’t know the difference. I’ve always been more of an outdoor type, so it’s probably some divine joke that I ended up wasting my early twenties in some desk job at a computer firm. Somebody up there doesn’t like me, I’m sure of it, and it annoys the Hell out of me. I don’t like being disliked, I suppose, the idea that somebody out there harbours bad feelings towards me freaks me out, unsettles me… but, as it is, fate or chance or whatever it is that rules the universe seems to thoroughly hate me, and it’s out to have a great time screwing me over…

“Hello? Helloooooo?

“Yes, Sophie?”

Sophie’s voice snaps me out of my daydream, sitting on the armchair and staring out of the window at the rain. She’s all but moved in now, she spends her waking hours here and we’ve fallen asleep the last three nights watching old re-runs of Seinfeld on cable. Somehow, she’s managed to get a clean outfit on for each of those three days, despite having only left the building to pick up a new packet of cornflakes.

“I’ve been trying to get your attention for ages, y’know.”

“Sorry, Sophie, I was miles away. What’s up?”

“D’you ever think about the future?”

Now, there’s a question. Most people would probably spout off some spiel or other, but for me the answer is pretty simple, really.


I don’t have time to think about the future, I don’t think I ever have. As a kid I was always into something new every ten minutes, never really sticking with anything apart from wrestling and the guitar. For a while it was thought that I might have ADD - well, I thought it anyway - but in retrospect it’s just a personality quirk. I’m like a magpie or something, shiny new things interest me. When my old firm started up, we lived only for the moment, trying to stay afloat and make money. And now? Now I can’t afford to think into the future… not beyond the 13th, anyway.

“Not even a little bit? Like, where will you be in five years’ time?”

Dead, probably.

“Nope, not even a little bit. Live for the moment, that’s me.”

Please, spare me the rebel-without-a-cause act, it’s not becoming of you. You don’t think about what’s going to happen for you in the next few years? For FTW?”

“Sophie, we’re an indy promotion six days shy of our opening show, I hardly think it’s right for us to be harbouring delusions of toppling the WWE right now. I’d settle for staying afloat into the summer. Besides, right now I’m more concerned about our title belt - I placed the order a month back, they said it’d be delivered by now. Don’t they care that I have to use that belt in a show in less than a week?”

“Did you tell them that?”

“No - there wasn’t a box on the form entitled ‘tick if you need to award to wrestler in 4-6 weeks.’ We’re screwed if we don’t get that belt soon, the posters are looking pretty bare without a match card and we can’t do that until we know if we’ll have a title. Ugh, this is the last time I use a company recommended to me by a guy online with the username ‘Idiot Jeb.’ I shoulda known that guy was trouble.”

“Chill out, I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation. Maybe it just got held up in delivery or something? I mean, it’s hardly like they’re down the street, is it? You said they were in Texas. Besides, you didn’t even answer my question - do you think about the future of FTW?”

What future? The realistic future, or my dream? Realistically, we’re screwed. If, by some miracle, we stay alive, eventually McMahon will slap us down like a petulant child and I’ll be carted off to jail on some form of sex-related offence I didn’t commit, like Feinstein or Black. But, in my dreams, we make it. FTW climbs to the top of the world and deposes Vince McMahon, and I get revenge for my brother. It’s not about the money, it’s more real than that, it’s about blood.

“I guess I do, sometimes. Y’know, dreams of world domination, Pay-Per-View and TV deals, the works. Becoming a billionaire, that sort of thing. Nothing really specific, this is just something I’ve always wanted to do, and now I finally have the chance.”

What a lie. I feel awful, lying to her like this, but what else am I supposed to do? Tell her the truth? Yeah, right. If she didn’t laugh at me and dismiss my admittedly wild conspiracy theory out of hand, she’d either freak out and bolt or stick around, knowing. I don’t know which is worse, but either way I’d be putting her life in danger if I let her in on the reality of the situation. She’s better off not knowing, but it still sucks.

“Fine, don’t tell me the truth. I don’t mind - you’re better with a little mystery to you, anyway.”

“That’s me, Sophie, mystery all over. Total question mark.”

“Yeah, right. D’you want some lunch? I can cook, uh, pasta.”

“Pasta sounds good.”

Off she goes, clattering around in the kitchen looking for pots and pans. Six days until the big night, and we’re still without a title belt, a match card, and a hope in Hell…

End of Part 3

Part 4...

Thank God for that. The post arrived this morning, and along with the bills and junk mail promising me millions of dollars if I just sign over my house as collateral, the title belt arrived. In the nick of time, too, there’s only four days until the event. Posters have already been circulated advertising the company and the date, but now we can actually get some form of match card put up too. Tony Dylan, the writer, came over this morning, and after a few hours of discussion and cheap beer we’ve managed to come up with a card, which has now been transferred onto the posters, which are now being distributed by our road agent Steve. The card looks something like this…


February 13th, 2005

Force Twelve Wrestling, the newest force on the East Coast wrestling circuit, comes to you just twenty-four hours before the most romantic day of the year and promises you the most exciting night of the year! We’ve got some of the biggest names on the East Coast circuit, and a Triple Threat Challenge Tournament to crown the first-ever Force Twelve Wrestling International champion, featuring nine of FTW’s biggest and best names, including Jay Lethal, Sean Casey, Colt Cabana, and ‘The Real Deal’ Damien Steele!

We’re also set to see a technical wrestling clinic, as the grappling abilities of Greg Pawluk and Roderick Strong are put to the test, and the pride of the US armed forces put on the line against opression and tyranny as the Navy Seal meets The Foreigner!

For all of this and more, make sure you’re at the Manhattan Civic Hall on Sunday, February 13th! Doors open at 7:30, so arrive early to avoid disappointment. Tickets are priced at $20, with a complimentary medium soda and fries from Hardee’s burgers thrown into the price if you keep your ticket stub and display it on your next visit!

Confirmed Matches…

•  Navy Seal vs. The Foreigner

•  Roderick Strong vs. Greg Pawluk

•  ‘The Real Deal’ Damien Steele vs. ‘All American’ Ash Parker vs. Lance Silva - Triple Threat Challenge Tournament match

•  ‘Sexy’ Sean Casey vs. Ricky Marvin vs. Chance Beckett - Triple Threat Challenge Tournament match

•  Colt Cabana vs. Jay Lethal vs. ‘Sure Thing’ Ryan Wing - Triple Threat Challenge Tournament match

•  The Triple Threat Challenge Tournament final, with the winner taking away the FTW International championship!

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• Navy Seal vs. The Foreigner

• Roderick Strong vs. Greg Pawluk

• ‘The Real Deal’ Damien Steele vs. ‘All American’ Ash Parker vs. Lance Silva - Triple Threat Challenge Tournament match

‘Sexy’ Sean Casey vs. Ricky Marvin vs. Chance Beckett - Triple Threat Challenge Tournament match

Colt Cabana vs. Jay Lethal vs. ‘Sure Thing’ Ryan Wing - Triple Threat Challenge Tournament match

• The Triple Threat Challenge Tournament final, with the winner taking away the FTW International championship!

Push Pawluk to the moon!

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Guest Captain Planet

• Navy Seal vs. The Foreigner

Roderick Strong vs. Greg Pawluk

‘The Real Deal’ Damien Steele vs. ‘All American’ Ash Parker vs. Lance Silva - Triple Threat Challenge Tournament match

‘Sexy’ Sean Casey vs. Ricky Marvin vs. Chance Beckett - Triple Threat Challenge Tournament match

• Colt Cabana vs. Jay Lethal vs. ‘Sure Thing’ Ryan Wing - Triple Threat Challenge Tournament match

• The Triple Threat Challenge Tournament final, with the winner taking away the FTW International championship! 'Sexy' Sean Casey

I'll be reading this, Sean Casey all the way*marks out*!!1!!!111!!

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Guest mroniimusha

• Navy Seal vs. The Foreigner

Roderick Strong vs. Greg Pawluk

‘The Real Deal’ Damien Steele vs. ‘All American’ Ash Parker vs. Lance Silva - Triple Threat Challenge Tournament match

• ‘Sexy’ Sean Casey vs. Ricky Marvin vs. Chance Beckett - Triple Threat Challenge Tournament match

Colt Cabana vs. Jay Lethal vs. ‘Sure Thing’ Ryan Wing - Triple Threat Challenge Tournament match

• The Triple Threat Challenge Tournament final, with the winner taking away the FTW International championship! Colt Cabana

Screw Sean Casey, I want to see how the Foreigner turns out!

*holds up 'Hail Foreigner' banner, and annoys everyone sitting behind me*

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February 13th 2005

Location: Manhattan Civic Hall, New York

Announcer: Daniel Cohen

Our show tonight is at the Manhattan Civic Hall in New York City, which is packed with 158 fairly interested fans. The ring is set up in the middle of the hall, with a black apron and the FTW name and logo splashed across it in white. The mat is plain white, and our ringposts are black and white. The curtain that is hanging over the door to the backstage area is also black, and scaffolds stand either side of it with strobe lights attached. Sitting off to the side of the ring, near to the security rail keeping the fans away, is the announce table, where Daniel Cohen is opening up the show…

Daniel Cohen: Welcome one and welcome all to Force Twelve Wrestling! You’re here at the very birth of a new dynasty in the wrestling world, Valentine’s Day Massacre, and what a show we have for you tonight! A Triple Threat Challenge Tournament, featuring some of the biggest names on the East Coast, and the winner will be taking away the FTW International championship, winning the right to call themselves the first ever champion! But right now, we’re opening up with what is sure to be an emotional contest for not only the competitors but every true American, as our armed forces take on foreign invaders!

As Cohen speaks, some typical military drill music plays over the speakers, and the Navy Seal heads out from behind the curtain. His khaki pants, army boots, and beret get the intended reaction from the fans, who give him a quick pop and the odd salute. Seal steps into the ring, salutes the crowd, and awaits his opponent. Next up, the Mexican national anthem booms out of the speakers, and the Foreigner steps out of the ring, waving the Mexican flag for all to see. He’s wearing black boots and blue tights, with the kind of thick black stubble on his face that just screams ‘foreign pig.’ Announced as hailing from Mexico City, Foreigner steps into the ring and locks up with Seal.

OPENER: Navy Seal vs. The Foreigner

The two men go into a test of strength from the lock-up, and Seal easily overpowers his foreign opponent, forcing him into the turnbuckle and beginning to chop away at his chest. Foreigner returns with a vicious poke to the eyes, and fires back a few chops of his own before bodyslamming Seal to the mat and following up with a moonsault splash. He attempts to keep up the advantage, but Navy Seal battles back with some punches and a suplex. The match swings back and forwards throughout, with both men getting in periods of offense and working the advantage, wearing each other down. Foreigner manages to carve out some momentum in the latter stages of the match with some underhanded tactics and technical wrestling, before Navy Seal comes back with a huge clothesline to knock him down and the predictable military press.

Daniel Cohen: They don’t teach that one in Mexico, folks! Just look at the elevation on that press!

Seal tosses Foreigner to the floor, but makes the mistake of showboating to the fans, allowing his sneaky opponent to grab the flag from the outside and waffle him with it, before hitting the Mexican Suplex for the 1-2-3!

Daniel Cohen: Oh come on, what an underhanded tactic! Is this how they do things in tequila-ville? I can’t believe the referee didn’t see that one! It’s a sad day for the military, folks, a say day indeed.

Unperturbed by the boos that he is getting from the crowd, The Foreigner grabs his flag once more and raises it high into the air, before making his way backstage, grinning from ear to ear.

(Match Quality 77%, Crowd Reaction 31%, Overall Rating 48%)

No sooner than Navy Seal has also made his way backstage, to a sympathetic round of applause from the crowd, some nu-metal music rips out of the speakers and Roderick Strong makes his way down to the ring to a slight pop from some of the fans, who recognise him from his ROH exploits. Jamie Koeppe follows him out to the ring, evidently his valet, and they quickly turn the crowd against them by telling them to shut their mouths. The cheek of some people. Greg Pawluk heads out next to some gritty, underground hip hop beats, and high-fives a few fans on his way down to win them over. The two men circle each other in the ring as the bell sounds.

MATCH 2: Roderick Strong vs. Greg Pawluk

Pawluk and Strong keep circling for a few moments, and tentatively lock up. Strong immediately knees Pawluk in the crotch and begins to manhandle him around the ring with some powerful-looking slams and suplexes, finally flooring him with a t-bone suplex and latching on an armbar. The work on the arm continues with a few stomps, an elbow drop, and a grounded wristlock, before Pawluk is able to roll through and grab the ropes. The two men put on a clinic in the ring throughout the match, Strong using his superior size and strength to continue putting pressure on the arm, whilst Pawluk begins to work on the back with some hard-hitting moves. After an STO, he locks on a longbow backbreaker, which gives Daniel Cohen time to reflect.

Daniel Cohen: You can see both men here, trying to wear down their opponents. Look at the leverage on that longbow backbreaker from Pawluk here, clearly trying to weaken up Strong’s spine and leave him prone to that Stretch Muffler submission. Hey, hang on, wait a minute!

Cohen’s outrage has been caused by Jamie Koeppe jumping onto the apron to distract our hapless official, which is useful as Strong has just begun to tap out of the backbreaker. Pawluk releases the hold, goes over to the apron, and gets a pop as he simply shoves Koeppe to the floor. Strong, however, has regained his footing, and catches Pawluk with the CX ’03 as he turns around! That’s it, 1-2-3 for the pinfall.

Daniel Cohen: Oh right, so that’s their game, is it? Use the bimbo as a distraction while you jump the guy from behind! That’s really honourable, Strong!

The fans share Cohen’s outlook, booing the young victor, who simply yells that they can screw themselves. What a nice man. Pawluk rolls out of the ring, and Koeppe enters, taking a microphone on her way in…

(Match Quality 79%, Crowd Reaction 27%, Overall Rating 47%)

First of Many…

With the fans booing over her first words, Koeppe begins to speak, with Strong standing behind her, arms folded, looking menacing…

Jamie Koeppe: You’ve just seen the… hey, shut up! Shut up, you ungrateful sons of bitches! You people have just seen the first in a long line of second-rate nobodies cut down to size by this man, Roderick Strong! This man is the next generation, you understand?

Daniel Cohen: Well, that’s certainly an original sentiment.

Jamie Koeppe: He’s the next generation of this business, and he’s the unquestioned ruler of this place! This is a message to whoever wins the title tonight - we’re not happy at being ignored, you hear? We’re coming for you, the first chance we get, and that title is as good as ours! This victory is just the first of many!

With those blunt words, Koeppe tosses the microphone to the floor, and signals for Strong to follow her as she leaves the ring. They head backstage amidst the boos of the crowd, and disappear behind the curtain.

Daniel Cohen: That was certainly an experience, folks! Up next, though, hold onto your hats, we’ve got the first of the three first-round matches in the Triple Threat Challenge Tournament! The rules are very simple - three triple threat matches, the winners go into a fourth triple threat match in tonight’s main event, and the winner walks out with the honour of being the first-ever FTW International champion!

(Segment quality 71%)

Sure enough, some dance music of sorts begins to play over the speakers, and Lance Silva heads out onto the ramp from behind the curtain, busting a few moves. On his way down to the ring, he stops to chat up a woman in the front row, and manages to exude enough obnoxiousness to draw boos from the male fans in attendance. As he climbs into the ring, the Star Spangled Banner plays, and the fans give the requisite pop and ‘USA, USA!’ chant as ‘All American’ Ash Parker heads out to the ring, wearing blue boots and Old Glory-themed tights. Parker heads into the ring as Silva bails out, but his music is abruptly cut off by “Damien” by Iced Earth as Damien Steele strides out onto the ramp, looking cocky and confident as ever, with his former XPW colleague Lizzy Borden just steps behind him. Steele strolls down the ramp and into the ring, and the bell rings.

MATCH 3: Damien Steele vs. Ash Parker vs. Lance Silva - Triple Threat Challenge Tournament

Immediately, Steele shows his dominance by flattening Parker with a stiff clothesline and a series of stomps, before shrugging off a sleeper hold attempt from Silva and hitting a tilt-a-whirl sideslam. Steele and Silva, kindred spirits as heels, now begin to team up on Parker, nailing several double-team moves and generally giving the feel of a handicap match for a few minutes. After a particularly effective two-man flapjack, Steele flattens a posing Silva from behind with an elbow to the skull, and locks on a headlock. The double-teaming theme continues for most of the bout, as Parker and Silva now start working on Steele, trying to take him out of the match with a series of maneuvers working on his head and back, although neither man can resist the opportunity to attack the other at times, allowing Steele back into the match. Following a suplex, Parker super kicks Lance Silva down, and begins to showboat, which gets some cheers from the crowd. But, he’s taken his eye off of the proverbial ball, and Steele is able to catch him off guard with a desperation Dealbreaker!

Daniel Cohen: There it is, that’s the Dealbreaker! That move has put so many people away, and if Steele can capitalise with a pinfall, he’s wrapped this one up!

Sure enough, the Real Deal manages to drape an arm over Parker, and picks up the 3-count to become the first man in the Triple Threat Challenge Tournament final! Lizzy Borden steps into the ring to congratulate her client, who shoves the referee away as his arm is raised.

Daniel Cohen: We’ve got our first finalist, ladies and gentlemen, and I don’t think he’d have it any other way! Damien Steele is in with a shot of taking away the International title, but who will his opponents be? Let’s find out!

Steele makes his way backstage with Borden now, still displaying enough arrogance to draw some boos, whilst Parker and Silva both make their way backstage to considerably less fanfare.

(Match Quality 76%, Crowd Reaction 33%, Overall Rating 48%)

Just after the ring is cleared, some typically-Mexican sounding music plays over the speakers, sounding as if it’s been taken from a Cheech and Chong movie, and Ricky Marvin heads out onto the ramp, showboating and dancing along to the music. It’s good to see we live in a stereotype-free age. As he heads into the ring, high-fiving a few fans on the way, his music fades and Radiohead’s “Creep” replaces it. Chance Beckett heads out, wearing black tights, black boots, and a plaid shirt, looking around him with distaste. He steps into the ring with little showmanship, instantly putting him in opposition to Marvin, and waits for the third man. Sean Casey is out next, to the sounds of “Nobody Does It Better” by Carly Simon, instantly gaining the affections of the women in the crowd for his looks and his posing. Casey steps into the ring, and the match begins.

MATCH 4: Sean Casey vs. Ricky Marvin vs. Chance Beckett - Triple Threat Challenge Tournament

Beckett holds off in the opening moments, content to let Casey and Marvin lock up in the middle of the ring and go into a wristlock reversal combination. Marvin eventually gains control of the hold, forcing Casey into the ropes and following up with a handspring to knock him to the outside. Beckett immediately sets to work, jumping the luchadore from behind and waffling him with a big lariat, before latching on a painful crossface hold. Marvin rolls backwards and nips up to his feet, dropkicking Beckett down, only to be hit with a missile dropkick from Sean Casey. The bout continues in this vein for some time, with all three men getting in periods of advantage but being unable to press this due to the numbers game. Casey uses his typical agile and educated style, switching between technical and high-flying styles as he works on Beckett and Marvin respectively, whilst the luchadore adopts a hit-and-run strategy with some great top-rope moves that wow the fans and our announcer, Daniel Cohen.

Daniel Cohen: Just look at this kid Marvin, people, as he lands another high impact maneuver, this time a corkscrew body block! This guy is definitely going to be one to watch in FTW… but wait a minute, Beckett just nailed the Chance Encounter!

Sure enough, Beckett has just taken Marvin over with his trademark move, and goes to make the cover. As he does, however, Sean Casey comes out of nowhere with his own finishing move, the Flying Elbow drop, landing on both men!

Daniel Cohen: Oh my! What an elbow from Casey, and now all three men are down in the middle of the ring! It’s pandemonium out there, people! And now, referee Tony Bryant begins to administer the ten-count!

The ten-count begins, and reaches five before Ricky Marvin begins to get to his feet. Chance Beckett is up next, stumbling backwards into the luchadore, who takes advantage and nails a hurricanrana! He tries to press the advantage, heading to the top rope and lining the fallen Beckett up for a flying attack, but as he straightens up, Sean Casey once again comes out of the blue to nail a super kick, catching Marvin in the stomach! He topples off of the turnbuckle, landing hard on the outside of the ring, leaving Casey clear to hit another Flying Elbow, this time connecting clean to Beckett’s stomach for the pinfall!

Daniel Cohen: There it is, Flying Elbow and the pinfall, ‘Sexy’ Sean Casey becomes the second man entered into the Triple Threat Challenge Tournament final! Who will join him and Damien Steele? Will it be Colt Cabana, Ryan Wing, or Jay Lethal? We’re set to find out now!

As Cohen speaks, Casey makes his backstage to a rapturous reception from the live crowd, whilst Beckett follows behind a few moments later, clearly irate with the outcome of things. The resident first-aider checks on Ricky Marvin, but the luchadore is able to get up and walk out on his own steam, getting a round of applause from the crowd.

(Match Quality 78%, Crowd Reaction 38%, Overall Rating 52%)

Straight Edge in the House…

Moments later, Barry Manilow’s “Copacabana” plays over the PA System, and Colt Cabana makes his way down to the ring, receiving some boos from those members of the crowd who know him from ROH and other promotions on the East Coast. Cabana struts down the ramp, dancing along to his music, before stepping into the ring and grabbing a microphone…

Colt Cabana: Y’know, I wish I could say I’m happy to be here, but I’m not. I look around me, at you people in the crowd, and I see filth. I see you drinking beer, smoking, pumping all of that filth into your bodies. Don’t you know what that does to you? Look at this guy at ringside, this guy who calls himself the announcer. How many shots of Jack Daniels have you had tonight, Cohen? I can practically smell the alcohol on your breath from here!

Daniel Cohen: Oh, that’s nice. You’re a real class act, Cabana.

Colt Cabana: You think I can’t see you badmouthing me? Shut up, now. I’m going to save you people the trouble of wondering who’s going to win this next match, and the FTW International title - it’s me. Why? Because I’m Straight Edge, and Straight Edge means I’m better than you! I’m crisp and clean with no caffeine, I’m free of alcohol and drugs, and that means I’m in better shape than any of the losers in this tournament. Bring them on!

With that, Cabana tosses the microphone down to the mat, and awaits his opponents.

(Segment quality 71%)

“One Step Closer” by Linkin Park is the next sound we hear, and Jay Lethal is out on the ramp, wearing patterned green tights, black boots, and a black wife-beater. He surveys Cabana, who is standing with his arms folded in the ring, and then strolls leisurely down the ramp. Waiting on the outside, Lethal circles the ring, and his music fades. Powerman 5000’s “The Way It Is” replaces his music, and ‘Sure Thing’ Ryan Wing steps out onto the ramp, wearing metallic blue boots and trunks, along with a metallic blue and silver vest. He runs down to the ring, eager to get into the action, and Colt Cabana takes advantage by setting upon him as soon as he rolls under the ropes.

MATCH 5: Colt Cabana vs. Ryan Wing vs. Jay Lethal - Triple Threat Challenge Tournament

Cabana’s assault begins with a double axe-handle as Wing rolls into the ring, followed up by a series of stomps and kicks, forcing the young high-flier into the corner. From there, Cabana drags him up to his feet and nails a few chops to the chest, before being caught from behind by Jay Lethal, who backdrops him to the mat and sets on Wing himself with a superplex, sending the youngster crashing down on top of Cabana! With both of his opponents down, Lethal takes the time to pose, drawing the boos of the crowd. Incensed, he steps outside and begins arguing with a fan, allowing Ryan Wing time to regain his footing and nail a beautiful topé suicida to take him down!

Daniel Cohen: Oh, what a maneuver! Ryan Wing showing Jay Lethal that pride is a costly enemy, taking him down from behind with that fantastic plancha!

Wing’s momentum takes him over the crowd barrier, and he follows up with a springboard legdrop from the barrier before rolling into the ring, where Cabana again takes control. Colt begins to suplex the high-flier around the ring, working on his back with the suplexes and a series of well-placed elbows and Irish whips into the turnbuckle. Wing manages to mount a comeback after being whipped towards the turnbuckle for the umpteenth time, springing back out of the corner with a cross-body that gets a 2-count before Jay Lethal makes the save.

Daniel Cohen: Close one there for Ryan Wing, just a second away from being in the final before Jay Lethal made the break!

Lethal goes to work on Wing now, using a combination of submission holds and hard-hitting grapples to continue Cabana’s earlier work on the high-flier’s back, and before long Wing is starting to feel the effects. Lethal is halfway through a suplex combination when a kick to the gut from Cabana floors him, allowing the Straight Edge follower to hit a back body drop on Lethal, sending him crashing to the outside! With Lethal down, and his other opponent hurting, Cabana signals for the end and hooks Wing’s arms, before lifting him up for a devastating Colt 45 and the academic pinfall!

Daniel Cohen: Whoa, what a match! That one had ‘classic’ written all over it, people, and in the end Colt Cabana came out on top with that amazing Colt 45! I tell you, people, he might be an arrogant little punk, but he sure can wrestle!

Cabana celebrates his victory by unceremoniously dumping Wing to the outside, and watching as the high-flier heads to the back. Jay Lethal follows, with a little help from the resident first-aider, leaving Cabana in the ring, waiting for the other two finalists.

(Match Quality 82%, Crowd Reaction 42%, Overall Rating 55%)

Bet the Farm…

When “Damien” by Iced Earth plays for the second time tonight, however, it is Lizzy Borden out first, carrying a microphone. Damien Steele is of course close behind, and for his earlier actions recieves a loud chorus of boos from the fans. Borden continues unabashed, however, and begins to speak…

Lizzy Borden: Congratulations, Colt, congratulations on your victory. It means nothing. You see this man, standing beside me? This is what it’s all about, Colt, this is what this business is all about. Damien Steele hasn’t had a title belt around his waist for some time now, and that’s a travesty! You and Sean Casey can bitch about it all you like, you can give your all, but it doesn’t matter, because tonight Damien Steele will right that wrong and walk out of here with the title!

Borden smirks at Cabana, and hands the microphone to Steele.

Damien Steele: You heard the lady, Cabana, you might as well walk away now. You might be Straight Edge, but you don’t stand a chance, because I’m the REAL FUCKIN’ DEAL!

Steele tosses the microphone down to floor to another round of booing from the crowd, and strolls down the ramp, flexing his muscles.

(Segment quality 64%)

Before he can step into the ring, however, “Nobody Does It Better” by Carly Simon plays again, and Sean Casey heads out to the biggest reaction of the night so far. He acknowledges the fans with a few high-fives and poses, and makes a few choice comments to Lizzy Borden on his way down to the ring. That is enough to infuriate Steele, who immediately comes from behind and smashes his head into the crowd barrier, and then the ring steps, before tossing him into the ring and following as the bell rings.

MAIN EVENT: Damien Steele vs. Sean Casey vs. Colt Cabana - Triple Threat Challenge Tournament final - FTW International title

Casey is placed at a disadvantage immediately, as the heels seem to put aside Steele’s cutting words and isolate the face, stomping him into the mat and giving him no opportunity to catch his breath in the opening moments. Eventually, however, Steele breaks off, firing off an elbow into Cabana’s face that sends him staggering backwards, and then forwards again into a powerslam. He follows up with a few stomps and an elbow drop to Cabana, before turning around to deal with Casey again, only to eat a super kick!

Daniel Cohen: Owch, that’ll leave a mark! Damien Steele just flattened by a perfect super kick there!

Casey follows the super kick with a couple of clotheslines as Steele gets back to his feet, before jumping up to the top rope and taking Cabana down with a cross-body as gets back up. Casey keeps the advantage up for some time now, using a combination of slick aerial moves, his lightning-fast speed, and clever technical wrestling to keep one step ahead of Steele and Cabana, who simply can’t catch him. After dropping both men with a top-rope dropkick, however, he takes the time to pause and show off to the crowd, allowing Cabana time to get up and plough him from behind with a bulldog.

Daniel Cohen: Whoa! What a bulldog from Cabana there! If you wanna win this one, Sean, you’re gonna have to be more on the ball than that! As they say, people, the price of victory is eternal vigilance!

Cabana keeps up the pressure with a couple of snap suplexes on Casey and a DDT, before Damien Steele locks him up from behind, ducks under an arm, and nails a DDT of his own to the Straight Edge follower. Yelling something to the crowd about being ‘the Real Deal’ now, Steele leaves the ring, goes over to ringside, and grabs the ring bell! The fans boo until they’re red in the face, but it doesn’t stop Steele from sliding into the ring, behind the official’s back, and cracking the bell hard over Cabana’s head! Colt hit’s the floor like a sack of hammers, and Steele is about to make the cover when Sean Casey comes from nowhere with a spear!

Daniel Cohen: Again, for what must be the fifth time already tonight, Sean Casey uses the element of surprise to his advantage! This guy should be wearing a bell or something, people, you just never know where he’s going to pop up next!

Casey chooses to forego the obvious option of pinning Cabana, instead pressing the advantage on Steele, dragging him to the middle of the ring and latching on a crossface chicken wing submission. With nowhere to go to break the hold, Steele instead tries to fight out, attempting to free himself from Casey’s grip, but to no avail as the ‘Sexy One’ only tightens his grip. Displaying incredible resiliency, however, Steele refuses to tap out, which allows a dazed Colt Cabana to get to his feet on the other side of the ring, regain his equilibrium, and break the hold with a well-placed stomp to Casey’s face. Steele rolls to the outside now, feeling the effects of the submission, allowing Cabana to go back to work on Sean Casey. After hitting a great hurricanrana, Cabana springs off of the ropes with a springboard elbow drop, and once more signals for the Colt 45. This time, however, Casey manages to use his momentum to escape, dropping down behind Cabana when he is hauled into the air. A surprised Cabana turns around, straight into a Blockbuster from Casey! Once more, Cabana is flat out on his back, but now Damien Steele chooses his moment to strike, jumping back into the ring at lightning-speed and catching Casey with a Dealbreaker! Dropping to his knees now, Steele makes the cover.

Daniel Cohen: That move put Ash Parker away earlier, people, and with Colt Cabana out this could be it! Do we have our first champion? One… two… three! We do have the first-ever International champion, and it’s ‘The Real Deal’ Damien Steele!

As “Damien” by Iced Earth plays once more, Steele rises to his feet and grabs the FTW International championship as it is presented to him by referee Tony Bryant. Lizzy Borden steps into the ring and raises his arm, and the fans are split between cheering the first-ever FTW champion and booing the man who has been victorious tonight. Colt Cabana and Sean Casey roll out of the ring, defeated, leaving the champion alone with his valet, celebrating in the ring, with his music booming over the speakers.

(Match Quality 77%, Crowd Reaction 47%, Overall Rating 55%)

Daniel Cohen: Well, there you have it! The Triple Threat Challenge Tournament was designed to find the best of the best and crown that man the FTW International champion, and you’re looking at him! ‘The Real Deal’ Damien Steele, in the ring with Lizzy Borden, is our champion! It’s been a great night, people, at the inception of Force Twelve Wrestling, we’ve seen some stars born and some fantastic wrestling across the board! I hope you’ll join us again, but for now we’re signing off, and may The Force be with you!

Overall Card Rating - 57%

Edited by Raven's Kid
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Part 5...

I don’t get paid enough for this. Of course, I don’t get paid anything at all, seeing as it’s my own money that I’ve sunk into this venture, but I’m exasperated right now and logic is out of the window. Sophie and I organised a photo shoot for the company this morning, February 25th, to get some snaps for our website and for any promotional posters and things like that. So, there we are at 9am in the freezing cold, outside the Manhattan Civic Hall, waiting for our photographer and our champion to show up, so we can get the thing started and get inside away from the gang of menacing-looking youths hanging around outside. Does Damien Steele show up? No, not a chance. It’s been almost an hour, and our photographer is getting annoyed. He’s not the only one.

“Is he gonna be much longer? I’ve got a wedding at 11:30, y’know.”

“Just chill out, he’ll be here.”

Sophie’s been trying to calm him down with that line since we first noticed that Steele was late, although every time she says it she sounds a little bit less convinced. This is so typical of his reputation, I really can’t believe that I thought I could keep him under control. What do I know about ‘people skills’ or any of that crap? I flunked the lecture in high school, and I flunked the 3-day training course at my old job.

“Can you get him on the phone?”

“What d’you think I’m trying to do?”

I’m dialling away, but there’s no answer on the other end of the line. For the love of God, when he picks up he’d better have a damn good excuse for this. Aha! There we are…


“Hey, it’s… wait, Lizzy?”


Why the Hell is Lizzy Borden answering Damien Steele’s cellphone?

“Do I have the right number, Lizzy? This is Damien’s phone?”

“Yeah, that’s right. What’s up?”

“Damien was supposed to be at that photoshoot we organised for him about an hour ago, Lizzy. He’s the champion, he’s got commitments to live up to.”

“Oh… right. Well, I don’t think he can make it in.”

“Why the Hell not? Put him on the phone!”

There’s a pause, a yawning sound, and when Borden speaks again she sounds noticeably bored.

“Can’t. He’s showering.”

“He’s blown off a photoshoot for personal hygiene? What the Hell are you doing on his phone anyway?”

“Y’know, I came over last night and…”

“Are you smoking a cigarette?”


Oh, that’s all I need - my champion no-showing so he can bang his valet. Stupid no-good hack, can’t keep his fuckin’ member in his pants… typical, just typical.

“Oh, for the love of God. Look, when he gets out of the shower, you tell him to call me, okay? I want an explanation from him.”

“Okay, sure.”

“And another thing, Lizzy… hello? Hello?”

Great, she hung up. This is all I need. My two most notorious troublemakers have now coupled up, turning what I had expected to be just an occasional annoyance into what is now going to be a never-ending battle of late appearances and blown dates.

“Who was that?”

“Lizzy Borden, Sophie.”

“So, they’re… no way!

“Well I’m glad you find the gossip so exciting, I’m a little more annoyed that our champion didn’t even show today. You? Photographer guy? You can go, sorry. Here’s your thirty bucks.”

The photographer leaves, muttering something about amateurs with no class. I’d say something to him, but at this moment I’m rather inclined to agree with him.

“So, are you gonna do something about him?”

“What can I do, Sophie? He’s the champion, I can’t suspend him or fire him or something like that, can I? My hands are tied. We’re just gonna have to make sure we keep an eye on him, I guess. Man, I could have really done without all of this.”

End of Part 5

-- Card and related whatnot for the second show coming soon, along with a recap of sorts of the month for the rest of the world in the game, just to note any amusing bits and bobs.

Raven's Kid!


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Part 6...

Once again, we’re circulating posters for the next show, with faithful road agent/dogsbody Steve Nickerson out hawking them and delivering them as we speak. I’m not too sure about his qualities as a road agent, based on his recent non-involvement in the Damien Steele incident, but then again there wasn’t much he could’ve done with a horny champion, and he’s too good an errand boy to fire outright. The card for the next show, FTW New York Minute, looks like this…


March 20th, 2005...

Once again, the Force is coming to you out of the Manhattan Civic Hall in New York city! If you want the hottest action on the East Coast independent circuit, don’t stay in and watch the ‘granddaddy of them all’ on Pay-Per-View, come and watch the next generation live and in the flesh, giving gramps a kick up the behind! We know that FTW International champion Damien Steele will be in the house, scheduled for an interview and a non-title bout with Ricky Marvin, and you can bet he’ll be crowing about his victory last month!

Not so happy after our inception show were Colt Cabana and Sean Casey, the losing finalists in the Triple Threat Challenge tournament, who have both been given an opportunity to vent their frustrations at this month’s show! The two men will face off in our main event, with the winner being named number one contender to the International championship!

In addition to this action, we’ll see aerial superiority in FTW on the line as the ladies’ man Lance Silva meets ‘Sure Thing’ Ryan Wing for a battle of the skies, whilst Roderick Strong hopes to make good on his manager’s claim “first of many” last month, looking to continue his winning ways against the Navy Seal. And, as if that wasn’t enough, The Foreigner will be meeting Greg Pawluk in the opening bout! Will Pawluk’s submissions reign supreme, or will Foreigner leave Pawluk tongue-tied and hung out to dry?

You know the drill - make sure you’re at the Manhattan Civic Hall on Sunday, February 13th! Doors are at 7:30, so arrive early to avoid disappointment. Tickets are priced at $20, with a complimentary medium soda and fries from Hardee’s burgers thrown into the price if you keep your ticket stub and display it on your next visit!

Confirmed Matches…

•  The Foreigner vs. Greg Pawluk

•  Roderick Strong vs. Navy Seal

•  ‘Sure Thing’ Ryan Wing vs. Lance Silva

•  ‘The Real Deal’ Damien Steele vs. Ricky Marvin - non-title FTW International champion showcase

•  Colt Cabana vs. Sean Casey - #1 contender’s match

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Definitely has echoes of LAW, but with a twist. I kinda' like that. It shows Vinnie Mac as sinister, and then blames his current domination of the wrestling universe on Vince being in with the Mob. Too bad you had to be the typical Italian mob. I think it would be kind of funny (yes, I'd laugh...I'm odd like that) if you did the Mexican mob (those guys are sick, from what I hear), and the whole reason for having Eddie as a champ was some pressure from the rest of the group...or stuff like that.

Still, good shows and backstory so far. I like it.

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Predictions Contest for New York Minute

The card for NYM is as follows...

• The Foreigner vs. Greg Pawluk

• Roderick Strong vs. Navy Seal

• ‘Sure Thing’ Ryan Wing vs. Lance Silva

• ‘The Real Deal’ Damien Steele vs. Ricky Marvin - non-title FTW International champion showcase

• Colt Cabana vs. Sean Casey - #1 contender’s match

Predictions are simple, select the winner, etc. The winner will get to select the name for my March show, which also helps me out of a bind because I can't think of one. I'll use whatever you suggest, with obvious exceptions ("[username] is F'N God!" etc) so get predicting to get involved!


To answer Nick's comment about the Mafia - the East Coast, especially New York, is traditionally Mafia territory, the Italian families rule the underworld there. The Mexicans tend to have their influence on the West Coast and in the South, but have almost no presence in NYC. I did my research!


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March 20th, 2005

Location: Manhattan Civic Hall, New York

Announcers: Daniel Cohen and Tom Giesen

FTW New York Minute opens with some rock music playing over the speakers, recognisable as “I Love New York” by the band Selfish C**t. 189 fans are packed into the Manhattan Civic Hall tonight, a sentence which says a lot more about the size of the venue than the crowd, but they’re excited and chanting nonetheless. At the ringside table is Daniel Cohen, who is sitting with an unintroduced figure…

Daniel Cohen: Welcome to New York Minute! Force Twelve Wrestling’s second-ever show, ladies and gentlemen, coming to you out of the city so good they named it twice. I’m Daniel Cohen, and next to me is my new partner…

Tom Giesen: Tom Giesen, Cohen, and let me tell you that you’re lucky to have me here! Talk about a hike in production values!

Daniel Cohen: Well, we’ll be the judge of that one, Tom, but nevertheless we’ve got a great show tonight! After walking out with the title at Valentine’s Day Massacre, Damien Steele is set to face Ricky Marvin tonight, and he’ll also be watching our main event - because the winner takes away a contract naming them the number one contender!

Tom Giesen: Damn right, but it doesn’t matter anyhow - Steele’s the Real Deal, Cohen, and he’s already defeated those two men! Those guys are nothing!

Daniel Cohen: Why would you say something like that, Tom?

Tom Giesen: Aren’t I supposed to? I’m the heel.

Without Breaking a Sweat…

As the announcers chit-chat and shill the card, “Damien” by Iced Earth plays and the fans rise to their feet with boos, some more quick off the mark than others, to greet ‘The Real Deal’ Damien Steele and Lizzy Borden as they head out from behind the curtain. Ignoring the fans, or rather baiting them, Steele struts down the ramp, showing off the FTW International championship on one arm and his valet on the other. The two step into the ring, where they engage in an embrace that draws more boos, and the disgust of our announcer…

Daniel Cohen: I’m usually all for public displays of affection, people, but I’m really not on board with this. They’re just deplorable!

Tom Giesen: Look, Cohen, nobody cares if you’re jealous. If you can’t get a girlfriend, fine, just don’t drag the rest of us down with you.

Daniel Cohen: …I don’t like you, y’know that?

Tom Giesen: My sentiments exactly.

Their lip-lock broken, Borden and Steele take microphones, and the champion lazily leans back against the ropes, admiring his gold, while Borden speaks…

Lizzy Borden: Feast your eyes on him, boys and girls… Damien Steele, the first-ever FTW International champion. Last month, this man defeated five other men across two matches to take home the gold, and let me tell you it looks great above the mantelpiece. So, why have we graced you with our presence tonight? Tonight, you people get to witness a non-title, FTW International champion’s showcase match, as this man defeats Ricky Marvin. And hey… he’ll do it without breaking a sweat.

Damien Steele: You got that right. Marvin, I hope you’re listenin’, because tonight you’re going down inside the five-minute mark, buddy boy, and I won’t even need to take a shower afterwards, because I’m the REAL FUCKIN’ DEAL!

With that, Steele tosses down his microphone and steps outside onto the apron, flexing and posing to the dislike of the fans. Borden follows a moment later, again infuriating the crowd by embracing with Steele as they head backstage, their presence already felt tonight.

(Segment quality 72%)

After the champion and Borden have made their way backstage, Greg Pawluk’s hip-hop music, “Fix Up Look Sharp” by British rap innovator Dizzee Rascal, plays over the speakers and the technical supreme heads out to the ring to a decent reaction. As he warms up, flexing his muscles and stretching, his music is replaced by the National Anthem of France, and The Foreigner heads out, waving the tricoleur flag and getting a shockingly hateful reaction from the live audience. Unperturbed, Foreigner steps into the ring, straightens out his tricoleur-themed tights, and locks up with Pawluk to begin the bout.

OPENER: The Foreigner vs. Greg Pawluk

Pawluk easily overpowers Foreigner from the original lock-up, slapping on a wristlock and forcing him into the ropes. Foreigner pushes himself back into the middle of the ring, but Pawluk floors him and re-applies the wristlock, this time in a grounded position. Continuing his work on the hand, he latches on a short-arm scissor hold, switching to an armbar and wrenching back on the wrist after a few seconds.

Daniel Cohen: This is what technical wrestling’s all about, folks, Greg Pawluk is totally centred in on that wrist!

Tom Giesen: Does he not realise that The Foreigner has another perfectly good hand on him? I mean, he’s going after the left hand, but this guy isn’t even left-handed! He’s not done his homework!

Eventually, Foreigner powers out, and manages to get back into the contest with some fiery chops, a right hand to the jaw, and a suplex. Using his size advantage and the power of France, Foreigner begins to carve out an advantage with some powerful suplexes and slams, before nailing an impressive modification on the emerald frosion to lay Pawluk out.

Tom Giesen: Owch, what a move! Did Pawluk’s wristlocks save him from that one? No, no they didn’t, Cohen!

Foreigner pauses now and retrieves his tricoleur. Tony Bryant, having learned from last month’s mistake, immediately begins remonstrating with him, but the referee’s worries are unfounded as Foreigner is merely taunting and showing off, to the hatred of the fans. Finally finishing, he turns around, straight into a lariat from Pawluk! Once again going after the arm, Pawluk drops a knee into the elbow and places on an armbar, but doesn’t cinch back enough and allows his opponent to escape. Dodging another lariat, Foreigner attempts the dreaded French Suplex, but cannot lift his opponent! Clutching his arm in pain, Foreigner casts around for another option, opting to kick Pawluk in the crotch before finally nailing the French Suplex on an opponent offering no resistance. With a nonchalant cover, The Foreigner picks up his second win!

Daniel Cohen: Two wins in two, and two underhanded moves to get there! This guy might be successful, but I don’t agree with his tactics!

Tom Giesen: D’you think he cares? Hell, where he’s from they probably love that sort of thing! He’s ignoring the US fans, Cohen, he’s playing to the hometown crowd!

Daniel Cohen: Have you ever been to France?

Tom Giesen: No. Have you?

Daniel Cohen: Yes I have, so just be quiet if you don’t know what you’re talking about.

Tom Giesen: Well, excuse me Monsieur Français. Don’t drop your baguette or anything.

Amidst all of this, Foreigner has seized a microphone…

(Match Quality 80%, Crowd Reaction 31%, Overall Rating 55%)

Foreign Invasion…

The most hated man in FTW, by merit of only his ever-changing nationality, begins to speak now, in an awful generic European accent, gravitating slightly towards a Parisian drawl…

The Foreigner: Silence, s’il vous plait! Shut up, you ungrateful dogs! Do you people not find it ironic zat you ’ate ze French so much, yet it was us who won your independence for you in 1776? Wizout ze French army, you people would still be under ze rule of ze British, and yet you boo us? Zis is typical of your country, of your pig-headed arrogance and idiocy. Well, ze era of your ignorance is over, vous comprende? Zis is ze beginning of ze Foreign Invasion, and you ’ave just seen ze second victim humiliated in front of ’is ’ome crowd. You fools, you bleat about your country as if you were ze greatest nation on ze planet, but you will always be second-string, always below ze might of ze Foreign Invasion! Maintenant, I am laying out a challenge for ze next show… Ash Parker! You claim to be ‘All American?’ Well, we will find out which is better, no? Ze ‘All American’ or ze Foreigner!

With that, he tosses down the microphone and leaves the ring, pausing to boot Greg Pawluk in the face one more time as he does so.

Daniel Cohen: Well, that was definitely something you don’t see every day. Thoughts, Tom?

Tom Giesen: He’s got a point about our mistreatment of the French, you know. I’m as patriotic as the next guy, Cohen, but only as far as the facts. I guess if Parker accepts then we’re in for a great match at the next show!

Daniel Cohen: You can say that again.

Tom Giesen: I guess if Parker accepts then we’re in for a great match at the next show!

Daniel Cohen: Why do I even bother?

Foreigner makes his way backstage now, waving the tricoleur, drawing the most vicious boo heard from this crowd yet, whilst a groggy Greg Pawluk stumbles backstage to a huge round of applause.

(Segment quality 57%)

Moments later, some nu-metal sounds recognisable as Limp Bizkit’s “Boiler” plays over the speakers, and Roderick Strong makes his way out to the ring with Jamie Koeppe at his side, looking at the fans in utter disgust as they boo his arrival. The disgust quickly turns to anger, and he manages to get into an argument with a fan on his ramp that almost turns violent before Koeppe intervenes. As Strong warms up, the sounds of military drill music are heard, and the Navy Seal jogs out to the ramp, once more wearing khaki and a beret for the mother of all cheap pops. He barrels down the ring to face Strong, who decapitates him with a lariat so quickly that the bell is still ringing as he hits the mat.

MATCH 2: Roderick Strong vs. Navy Seal

From that, Strong continues his dominance with a crushing elbow drop to the stomach and a knee drop. As the FTW’s very own armed forces representative makes his way back to his feet, Strong cuts him down with an STO, and locks on a reverse chinlock. From here, he grounds Seal and goes into a scissored sleeper hold, still working on the head and neck. Picking his opponent up, Strong lifts him into the air as if for a suplex, and deposits him over the top rope to the floor, where Jamie Koeppe sets about stomping as Strong himself complains about his boot lace to the official.

Daniel Cohen: Oh come on, this is hardly fair! Strong was doing fine on his own, why does he have to get the broad involved?

Tom Giesen: She’s got to do something to justify paying her, right? Besides, if you have an advantage in this game and you don’t use it, then you’re the idiot, and Strong’s no idiot!

Once her stomping and slapping duties have been fulfilled, Koeppe tosses Navy Seal back into the ring, where he stumbles to his feet and is blasted with a German suplex, followed up with a senton backsplash to the face. Feeling the effects by now, Seal tries to cover his head, but this only annoys Strong, who regains to rain forearm shots across his opponent’s skull and neck now. Sensing victory at hand, he drags the military man to his feet, and kills him dead with a cradle piledriver that gets the easy win.

With the match won, Strong continues the punishment with a post-match beat down, dragging Seal to his feet and hitting another series of painful lariats before ending the torture with the CX ’03. As Strong tosses Seal to the outside, where the resident first aiders help him backstage, Jamie Koeppe takes a microphone.

(MatchQuality 86%, Crowd Reaction 35%, Overall Rating 60%)

Getting Impatient…

The fans are booing the Hell out of the duo, but Koeppe can talk louder than any fan can boo, and proves it as she begins to speak…

Jamie Koeppe: We’re not amused, we’re not amused at all! We told you at Valentine’s Day Massacre, we told you we didn’t want to wait! We told you we wanted the title, we TOLD YOU! Shut up, you slobs, and let me speak!

Daniel Cohen: That’s a novel approach to crowd control.

Jamie Koeppe: Do you understand what we mean? You know who I mean, I’m talking to the powers-that-be… you hear us, DON’T YOU? We’re getting impatient… Roderick Strong won’t wait forever, and if you won’t listen to our pleas then we’ll be forced to MAKE you consider us! This is on YOUR heads!

Abrupt as ever, Koeppe tosses the microphone to the mat and leaves the strong, gesturing for Strong to follow. He does so, almost getting into a fight with the same fan again as he walks up the ramp. The duo finally disappear behind the curtain, amazingly without incident.

Daniel Cohen: ‘This is on your heads?’ What’s that supposed to mean?

Tom Giesen: It’s pretty obvious, Cohen. Did you flunk English or something?

Daniel Cohen: How I did in school is my own business, Tom.

Tom Giesen: Okay, I’ll go slowly… Koeppe… means… that… she… is… angry… with…

Daniel Cohen: Oh for God’s sake, I get it, just be quiet.

(Segment quality 64%)

Powerman 5000’s “The Way It Is” plays now, and ‘Sure Thing’ Ryan Wing heads out from behind the curtain, getting a decent reaction from the crowd. He plays to them, augmenting their response, and grins widely as he walks down the ramp and into the ring. Lance Silva’s music, “Slash dot com” by Fatboy Slim, plays next, and the self-proclaimed ladies’ man struts out onto the ramp, with a rose clenched between his teeth.

Daniel Cohen: Oh geez, what a cliché. Did he forget Valentine’s Day or something?

Tom Giesen: In all fairness, he probably spent Valentine’s Day concussed after the last show, Cohen.

Daniel Cohen: Well, quite. Anyway, folks, we’re expecting a barn-burner here, this match was made after great performances from both men in the Triple Threat Challenge Tournament last month, and they’ll both be out to impress!

Silva hands the rose to a young woman on the way down to the ring, his smarmy advance drawing boos from the male section of the crowd, before rolling into the ring as the bell sounds.

MATCH 3: Ryan Wing vs. Lance Silva

Silva is still showboating as the bell rings, pleased with himself for having landed a possible date, and as such isn’t paying attention as Wing nails a spinning heel kick to his jaw, sending him reeling into the ropes and rebounding into a hurricanrana. The young high-flier continues his offense with some quick kicks and a series of take-overs and roll-throughs, finishing with a discus clothesline and followed up with a handspring moonsault splash.

Daniel Cohen: Whoa, check this kid out, Tom! This is promising stuff from Ryan Wing!

Wing heads up to the top rope, but telegraphs a moonsault as Silva dodges. The ladies’ man takes advantage with a dropkick to the face, sending Wing over, and a quick series of leg drops and elbows. He then heads to the top rope, and succeeds where Wing failed in connecting with a moonsault. Eschewing the pin attempt, Silva follows up with a few stomps, before hitting a great springboard dropkick to send his opponent toppling to the outside. Silva taunts now, before taking a run-up and clearing the ropes with a topé, only for Wing to dodge and throw him into the crowd barrier! The ‘Sure Thing’ jumps onto the ring apron now and springs off with a moonsault press, connecting with Silva and landing on the other side of the crowd barrier. The crowd pat him on the back, and his concentration is broken long enough for his opponent to recover and nail a jawbreaker, slamming Wing’s jaw into the metal barrier!

Tom Giesen: Well, that’s one alternative to dental work, Cohen!

Daniel Cohen: Lance Silva’s showing some good awareness there, using the arena around him to his advantage. This is turning into a great match!

From here, Silva pulls Wing back over the barrier and tosses him into the ring, jumping onto the apron and springing off with a leg drop for a 2-count. Signalling for the end now, Silva lines Wing up for his finishing maneuver, the Save The Last Dance, but Wing is able to drop down onto his chest and spring up behind Silva, knocking him down with a shuffle side kick and going to the top rope… Suresault! The ‘Sure Thing’ hooks Silva’s leg, and gets the pinfall to win the match.

Daniel Cohen: What a match, what a move, and what a competitor! Ryan Wing pulling out a big victory there, Tom, with that picture-perfect Suresault to end the match!

Tom Giesen: Yeah, we get it. Geez, if you want to ask him out, Cohen, just invite him out to dinner or something. There’s no need for this sycophantic ass-kissing.

Wing gets to his feet after the match, clutching his stomach slightly, and raises his arms into the air in celebration. He plays to the crowd for a few moments, turning his back on the curtain - which proves to be a costly error. Moments later, a figure comes barrelling down the ramp, so quickly that the announcers barely notice him before he has cracked Wing over the head with a baseball bat.

Daniel Cohen: You’ve got to admit, Tom, Wing pulled out all the stops and that was a great… hey, hold on a minute! That’s Jay Lethal, and he just took Wing out with that bat!

Tom Giesen: What a shot, Cohen! I think the Yankees may have found the answer to their problems!

Daniel Cohen: Will you just shut up for two seconds and do your job? Why the Hell is Lethal out here?

It looks as if we’ll get to find out, as Lethal quickly ejects Wing from the squared circle and grabs a microphone…

(Match Quality 81%, Crowd Reaction 31%, Overall Rating 56%)


Jay Lethal: Shut up and listen! This is what passes for entertainment these days, huh? This is what you people want to see? I say you’re all even more stupid than I first thought, and that goes for the powers that be as well. Why’re you giving these nobodies valuable spots on the show, while I’m left to rot backstage? Don’t you people know that I’m the best thing to ever grace FTW? THIS IS WHERE IT’S AT!

The fans begin to boo even louder now, and Lethal begins to get annoyed…

Daniel Cohen: He doesn’t look happy with this reaction, people.

Tom Giesen: Do you blame him? He’s got a point - he’s been overlooked for two glorified acrobats, Cohen, and these people have the nerve to boo him?

Jay Lethal: I’m sick and tired of being overlooked for so-called ‘athletes’ like Ryan Wing. So you’ve got a catchy ring name and you can break out 50 variations of a backflip in every match, what does that prove? It proves nothing! I’m one of the youngest, most talented men on the whole East Coast, and this little bitch gets MY spot? You’d better watch your back, Wing, because if the powers that be don’t give me MY spot, I’m going to take yours… by any means necessary.

Lethal leaves the ring now as “One Step Closer” by Linkin Park plays. On his way up the ramp, he stops to stick a boot in Wing’s face, and toss the microphone down next to him. After Lethal has disappeared behind the curtain, Wing is helped backstage by our resident first aid specialists.

(Segment quality 78%)

Moments later, Ricky Marvin’s oh-so-stereotypical music plays over the speakers, and the luchadore heads out onto the ramp, his arm raised in recognition of the reaction he is getting from the audience. He buddies up to a few fans on his way down to the ring, before stepping between the ropes and awaiting the FTW International champion. “Damien” by Iced Earth plays, and the champion heads out for the second time tonight, accompanied by Lizzy Borden. Steele strolls down to the ring, seemingly a little more focussed than earlier, and hands over the International championship to the official before locking up with Marvin.

MATCH 4: Damien Steele vs. Ricky Marvin - non-title FTW International champion showcase

Marvin quickly evades the initial lock-up and starts punching and chopping away at the champion, hoping to carve out an early advantage. His sound strategy continues with some spinning kicks and a dropkick which sends Steele into the ropes, but Marvin’s attempt at a cross-body fails as Steele grabs him and nails a spinning fall away slam. The champion begins to dominate from here on out, using his size advantage over the much smaller Marvin to keep the advantage with a series of powerful slams and strikes, quickly wearing the luchadore down. After a tilt-a-whirl sideslam, Steele lifts Marvin up for a vertical suplex. The luchadore tries to free himself, writhing and struggling, but this comes off worse for him as Steele almost drops him in the descent, drilling him right onto his head!

Daniel Cohen: Oh man, that was hellacious! Marvin’s attempt to escape backfired on him one hundred per cent there!

Tom Giesen: I think he’ll be taking the short bus to his English night-school classes from now on, Cohen!

Steele follows up with a headlock and some elbows, keeping the pressure on the cranium, before Irish whipping Marvin hard into the turnbuckle. He attempts a superplex, but Marvin is able to recover enough to shove him hard down to the mat. Signalling for his finishing maneuver with a raised arm, the luchadore attempts the Ricky Rana, but Steele has quickly regained his composure and catches him mid-air! Yelling out that he is the Real Deal, Steele nails a sick cradled piledriver on Marvin, which lays him out for the 1-2-3!

Daniel Cohen: Owch, I’m hurting just watching that move! Ricky Marvin gave his all against the champion, but Damien Steele was able to put him away with that crushing piledriver!

Tom Giesen: Oh, stop sugar-coating it, Cohen, these people are old enough to hear the truth - Damien Steele is the greatest thing to hit the East Coast in a long time, he’s the most talented man in FTW, and Ricky Marvin is just the next in a long line of losers that he’ll annihilate! He’s not good enough, he barely lasted five minutes!

Steele grabs his belt from the official once more, raising it into the air as Lizzy Borden joins him in the ring. FTW’s first couple share another embrace amidst the boos of the crowd, before Steele holds five fingers in the air and yells “I told you”, recalling his earlier promise to beat Ricky Marvin inside of five minutes. With “Damien” by Iced Earth playing, the duo head backstage, whilst Marvin stumbles to his feet and is helped backstage by our first aiders.

(Match Quality 75%, Crowd Reaction 43%, Overall Rating 59%)

Daniel Cohen: Well, people, we’ve seen some great action tonight at only our second-ever show here at Force Twelve Wrestling, but right now it’s time for the match we all came here to see - the main event, as Colt Cabana and Sean Casey meet to decide the number one contender to Damien Steele’s International championship!

Tom Giesen: Phht, like it matters anyway. Steele wasted both of those men last month.

Daniel Cohen: Is he paying you or something?

As the announcers argue, “Copacabana” by the ageless Barry Manilow plays over the speakers, and Colt Cabana struts out to the ring, largely oblivious to the negative reaction he is getting from the fans as he dances down the ramp and onto the apron, raising his arms into the air. Cabana ducks into the ring, still ignoring the boos, and awaits his opponent. “Nobody Does It Better” by Carly Simon plays over the speakers, and Sean Casey heads out to the ring to the pop of the night, revelling in the reaction he is getting and proceeding to chat up the same female fan that Lance Silva tried it on with earlier in the evening. Eventually, he strolls into the ring, and the bell rings to begin our main event match.

MAIN EVENT: Colt Cabana vs. Sean Casey - #1 contender’s match

Cabana makes a pretty big show of avoiding Casey for the first few moments, backing away into the ropes and then ducking through his legs, backing away again. Finally, Casey makes a lunge for his quick-footed opponent, who dodges and blasts him with a lowblow. Taking control of the bout now, much to the chagrin of the crowd, Cabana trips Casey and applies a buffalo sleeper hold, before releasing it and dropkicking him in the back. From there, the Straight Edge follower whips Casey into the ropes and guillotines him hard against the bottom rope, earning him a reprimanding from referee Tony Bryant.

Daniel Cohen: The referee doing a good job reading the riot act to Colt Cabana there, Tom.

Tom Giesen: Rules, schmules! He needs to let the match flow, let Cabana do his thing! This place would be so much more entertaining if he just let the guys entertain!

Amidst Giesen’s gospel on referee intervention, Casey nips up to his feet and levels Cabana with a super kick, following up with a leg grapevine hold. Cabana quickly reaches the ropes, and is dragged into the middle of the ring by the Sexy One, who goes back to the leg with some harsh stomps and a knee lock. As Casey cinches the hold in, Cabana yells and screams, but eventually pitches himself forwards and rolls through into a deathlock, which Casey quickly escapes from. The two men lock-up, and Cabana wins out with a big suplex, drilling Casey down onto his head. From here, the two men start to exchange the advantage as the match wears on, with Colt keeping up the pressure on Casey’s head and neck with some dangerously-spiked maneuvers and various holds, whilst Casey quickly zeroes in on Cabana’s left leg, working it over with various submissions and also some clever aerial moves. Following a missile dropkick to the knee that has Cabana yelping out loud, Casey signals for the finish, and goes to the top rope for what looks to be his trademark Flying Elbow.

Daniel Cohen: Here it comes, folks, it’s Elbow time!

Tom Giesen: I keep telling you - it doesn’t matter! If he wins, he’ll just be mown down by Steele next month!

Daniel Cohen: Just shut up about Steele for one minute, Tom, and pay attention to the damn… hey, wait a minute!

As Cohen speaks, we see a figure darting down the ramp to the ring - it’s Roderick Strong! Casey has not seen him, and comes diving off of the turnbuckle with a Flying Elbow, connecting painfully with Cabana. Moments later, however, Strong hauls him off of his opponent’s prone form and blasts him with the CX ’03, before picking up Cabana and treating him to the same fate. Tony Bryant has no choice, of course, but to call for the bell, signalling a No Contest.

Daniel Cohen: What in God’s name is this about, Tom? Why is Strong out here?

Tom Giesen: This is just… neat! You heard Jamie Koeppe earlier, Cohen, they said they’d make the powers that be regret their decision to overlook Roderick Strong, and they’re gonna have to take notice now!

Daniel Cohen: So he’s done this? He’s ruined our main event because he can’t take it when nobody pays attention to him? What is this guy, five years old?

Tom Giesen: You want to get into the ring and tell him that, Cohen?

With the bell ringing loudly around the arena to try and shake him out of his fury, Strong continues to manhandle the two fallen competitors, the referee’s pleas falling on deaf ears. Playing on the damage done in the match, he hits a sick piledriver on Sean Casey, before locking Colt Cabana in an excruciating Indian death lock, yelling out all the while that he will not be ignored. Eventually, he lets up on both men, standing over them with his arms raised in victory. Jamie Koeppe strolls out now, her man’s job done, all smiles and applause. The two of them celebrate in the ring, the boos of the fans only seeming to fuel their sick pleasure.

(Match Quality 88%, Crowd Reaction 47%, Overall Rating 67%)

Daniel Cohen: This is just heinous, Tom, how can you condone this? Roderick Strong wants recognition, he should earn it, not hide behind sneak attacks and that bitch who does the talking for him!

Tom Giesen: Oh for the love of God, why won’t you just understand that this isn’t 1985 anymore, Cohen? This is the modern world, and this is how you make an impact in FTW! This man is the future!

Daniel Cohen: Well, I for one hope not. We’re out of time, people, I’ve been Daniel Cohen and I’ve had the dubious honour of being accompanied by Tom Giesen tonight…

Tom Giesen: Don’t mention it!

Daniel Cohen: I won’t. Anyway, I hope you’ll join us again, and until next time - may The Force be with you!

Overall Show Rating - 62%

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Part 7...

I don’t deserve this. Our monthly bank statement came through today, April 1st, and sure enough we’ve lost a shedload of cash for the second month in a row. While I was sitting at the breakfast table, with the milk in my cornflakes slowly congealing as I sat open-mouthed, staring at the piece of paper which informs me that we somehow managed to lose $221,220 in a single month, leaving us with only $331,490 in the bank, it occurred to me that we’d have to start cutting some costs if we want to succeed. Such a thought must have occurred somewhat earlier to my bank manager, who telephoned a few moments later, called me a few curse words, yelled something about a vacation in the Bahamas to cool his nerves, and then hung up. Sophie’s just come over, to find me still staring at the bank statement in horror and disbelief, and my cornflakes thoroughly ruined. She’s making me toast as we speak…

“Any thoughts on how to rectify the problem?”

“Well, we’ve got to cut costs, Sophie, or we’re going to be in the red so fast it isn’t funny.”

“Okay, but where do you want to start cutting costs?”

The simple answers are advertising and production. I don’t want to lose the talent roster we’ve got for some cheaper, less talented individuals who will be easier on the wallet, so it looks as if we’ll be moving to smaller venues and spending less money on shilling our shows.

“Production, advertising, I suppose.”

“Right, my thoughts exactly. So, we’ll cut the advertising budget… in half?”

“That’s still $100,000 a month, Sophie.”

“Yeah, but it’s $100,000 extra in your pocket, and maybe this time next month your bank manager won’t be cursing you in just about every tongue on the planet. As for production… if we tell The Sound Guy to drop things a bit with the lights and the set, and try to get ourselves a spot in a high school gym or something, that’s going to be much cheaper.”

“The question is, though - can we get anywhere to give us a whole night in just 2 weeks’ time? We’ve got a show on the 17th, we’ve been advertising it.”

“So we do some scouting around. We’ll find something. How many high schools are there in this city? There’s bound to be something - what kind of school uses its gymnasium on a Sunday night, anyway?”

“Touché. We’ve also had a few calls from the boys in the last few days - they want their wages increased. Steele, Lethal, Strong, Borden…”

“Lizzy Borden? She wants a pay rise? What the Hell does she do to deserve a pay rise, screw Damien?”

“That’s pretty much her line of thinking, yeah. She made some pretty weak argument about struggling to make ends meet as well, and it’s unfair not to pay her for what she does. But, at the end of the day, we need Damien Steele happy, and if she’s happy, he’s happy. God, when did my life begin to revolve around the sex lives of a pro wrestler and a former porn queen?”

“You make it sound so glamorous.”

“Oh yeah, just look at the glitz. Is my toast ready yet?

Sophie nods, and skips off to the toaster to fetch my breakfast. What did I do to deserve such a hands-on secretary, I wonder?

“Here you are.”

I don’t like butter with the jam, but I don’t think I’m in much of a position to complain, except perhaps from the dubious financial perspective that using both butter and jam is wasting money. Then again, she’d be able to counter by saying that using the toaster at all is a waste of valuable electricity.

“Perhaps if you tried to, like, make friends with some of the boys, they might let up on the pay demands?”

“I don’t think it’s wise to make friends with them, they’re my employees.”

“Yeah, but didn’t you have friends where we used to work?

“I tended to keep my work and friends separate, I didn’t make too many friends there.”

“Ah, professional detachment. Very noble.”

“No, it wasn’t that. I just didn’t really have a knack for making friends. Anyway, I’d better get onto the phone with The Sound Guy, and try to talk Borden down from her high horse. Since when does she get to take the moral high ground on matters of pay? I’ve never been paid to have sex on camera.”

“Not yet, anyway. You wait ’til June, when we’re two hundred grand in debt.”

“Geez, you’re a real ray of sunshine.”

End of Part 7

-- Thanks for the feedback, youse two. As for the comment on everybody's favourite foreign dog, he's in an angle with a pro-American now, so he'll be taking on the nationality of countries with immediate problems with the US for the time being. Expect a rip-off of the WWE's Arab-American duo in the near future, although perhaps in poorer taste because I'm not that subtle.

-- Card for the abysmally-named Spring Fling will be up soonish (this is what happens when you don't predict!), along with another surely doomed predictions contest.

Raven's Kid!


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March recapped…

Another wild thirty days, another wealth of amusing and entertaining news titbits from the wacky world of pro wrestling…

-- Ric Flair and Randy Savage both went ahead with their retirements, with Savage deciding to finally go home after appearing on a few NWA:TNA shows in March, and Flair becoming a road agent for the WWE. Nobody noteworthy to add to that list this month.

-- The glut of indy workers signing to the WWE continues, as Simon Diamond has signed a lengthy written contract with the promotion. You poor thing, Simon, don’t you know you’ll be forced into a stereotypical gimmick and jobbing on HeAT for all eternity? I still smell a rat.

-- In other, less newsworthy information regarding workers being signed, Force Twelve Wrestling has agreed to an open deal with indy worker Danny Dominion. This deal was largely brought about by pressure from Sophie, who claims that a roster of 16 makes us look unprofessional, and 1 extra employee would rectify this totally. Hmm. Anyway, Dominion is talented an inexpensive, so he’s right up our street. Expect him to debut at the next show.

-- IWA: Puerto Rico has reached the dizzying heights of a Cult fan base this month, celebrating by signing Jerry Lynn, Vampiro, Doug Williams and Michael Modest to expensive deals, and announcing a drive to become a nationally-acclaimed federation by this time next year. Good luck to them, they aren’t McMahon so we’re happy.

-- In other news, WXW and NWA: Pro Wrestling Express have both dropped down to the small level, which leaves them on just about a par with us. Expect NWA: Wildside to join them this month, unless Bill Behrens begins to pull his finger out with the book over there.

-- The internet wrestling media has been screaming with potential bankruptcy stories all month, listing ECCW, ECWA, and UXW as the most likely promotions to go bankrupt in the coming weeks. No mention of FTW, but that’s probably more because nobody cares than because we’re financially secure.

-- In other web-based information, the ‘100% reliable’ rumour website WrestlingHeat.com has filed a very small story suggesting that Lizzy Borden has been secretly dating Ricky Marvin. It honestly wouldn’t surprise me, given her reputation, but I think there might be a language barrier on the path to true love for them. I’ve spoken to Ricky on several occassions, and I can tell you that the only words of English he understands are “job” and “pay.”

-- Once more, a gain in public standing for Force Twelve Wrestling this month, but hopefully we won’t be halted in terms of our climb up the ladder by our new cost-cutting measures.


April 17th, 2005...

The Force might have relocated, but you can bet your bottom dollar that we’re still giving you the action you’re used to! Spring Fling will be coming to you out of the Alfred P. Vance High School gymnasium on April 17th, because the Manhattan Civic Hall couldn’t stand the heat any longer! No worries, because have we got a show for you!

Damien Steele is set to meet Colt Cabana in non-title action, in a move that will surely infuriate ‘Sexy’ Sean Casey, who will argue that he had Cabana beaten until Roderick Strong’s interference at the end of New York Minute! Casey himself, meanwhile, will be able to take out his frustrations on the smooth-talking Lance Silva, who has requested a match with the Sexy One in order to prove his superior manhood. His words, not ours.

Fed up with being overlooked, or so they claim, by the powers that be in Force Twelve, Roderick Strong and Jay Lethal have demanded to be allowed to team up at Spring Fling, and the powers that be have agreed. Their opponents will be the team of Ricky Marvin and Ryan Wing, and you’d better believe that Lethal and Wing will be out to tear holes in each other after what went down at New York Minute!

Now that he is two-for-two in a strange, unfamiliar country, The Foreigner has gained enough confidence to challenge that bastion of American pride and patriotism, ‘All American’ Ash Parker. We heard Foreigner’s words last month, and at Spring Fling we’ll see nations collide as the two men meet in the ring!

In other action, Chance Beckett marks his return to Force Twelve with a match against the Navy Seal, whilst Greg Pawluk has put out an open challenge to anybody on the Force Twelve roster, clearly looking to make an impact and get his first win for the company.

So, remember the change in location - Alfred P. Vance High School gymnasium - but it’s otherwise business as usual! Doors are at 7:30pm on April 17th, so arrive early to avoid disappointment! As always, if you keep your ticket stub then you’re entitled to a free medium soda and fries on your next visit to Hardee’s burgers, so make sure you’ve got The Force!

Confirmed Matches…

•  Chance Beckett vs. Navy Seal

•  Greg Pawluk vs. ??? - Open Challenge

•  The Foreigner vs. ‘All American’ Ash Parker

•  ‘Sexy’ Sean Casey vs. Lance Silva

•  Jay Lethal/Roderick Strong vs. Ricky Marvin/‘Sure Thing’ Ryan Wing

•  ‘The Real Deal’ Damien Steele vs. Colt Cabana - non-title match

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Ask and yee shall receive.

Chance Beckett vs. Navy Seal

Greg Pawluk vs. ??? - Open Challenge

The Foreigner vs. ‘All American’ Ash Parker

‘Sexy’ Sean Casey vs. Lance Silva

Jay Lethal/Roderick Strong vs. Ricky Marvin/‘Sure Thing’ Ryan Wing

• ‘The Real Deal’ Damien Steele vs. Colt Cabana - non-title match

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